When I looked into his eyes, though, something was off. He became stiff and his coat started to bubble like thick slugs were trying to make their way out. His face contorted. His fur turned a sun-bleached brown and became matted and dirty. The whites of his eyes began to show. His face was becoming both more human and more beast at once. It resembled a dog, or a bat, with human eyes and dense fur. His mouth opened, revealing uneven yellow teeth, and then– he laughed. An absolutely nauseating laugh, deep and pure evil, conveying to me, “I tricked you.” It (no longer Cookie) was so very delighted by my intense fear and disgust.

In a panic, I began clawing at its face, as if trying to dig out my cat from this monster. It didn’t stop laughing. It seemed to enjoy my frenzy. As it laughed, its face began to lose structure in my hands. I was pulling off tuffs of fur and skin, and from every wound, thick black goo seeped out. So much. Too much to fit in the body of a cat. It continued to laugh as it fell apart, and I woke up.

I’ll never forget that dream. Many years later, I brought it up to my brother and father while reminiscing on “the old house.” My father reluctantly admitted that he had recurring dreams in that house. In his dreams, he was home alone but felt there was something there with him, something that wanted to hurt us. He would check every room, every dark corner, but never found it.

My brother would routinely sleepwalk there. Like my dad, he wandered the house alone in a dream state, though he doesn’t remember why. What he does remember is always waking up in the same spot—the basement. The sleepwalking stopped once we moved. I can’t help but wonder if my father and brother were both searching for the same something in the dead of night. 

Since then, I’ve brought up this up anytime a campfire story is in order. And I’ve heard of similar dreams from others— of something deeply evil luring us in (particularly kids) with a familiar face. The one element that repeatedly comes up is the black syrupy goo that follows the trickster.

My friend Ian recalls a childhood dream where he saw a very similar creature I did. He described it as “a talking bat with very human eyes, covered in syrup.” In his dream, the neighborhood kids excitingly brought him to a wooded area at the end of the street. They wanted to show him what they had found. They crowded around a tree, and the beast emerged from the hollow. It spoke to Ian with a simple request: bring me more kids.

Is this the product of a collective unconscious? Or could there be something with its own conscious lurking in our dreams, feasting on our fear? If you too dreamed of this creature, call (585) 432-0333 and tell us your story.