Tall Tom
A short horror story on obsession and social media
Urban legends are foolish and I never believed them. The mere thought of these kinds of myths is laughable to me, but some don’t even question it. That’s why it’s so odd that I’m telling you this story. You have to live it to believe it.
A few months ago, a rumor started going around about high school kids that went through an uncanny experience. They said that they found an old book in their school’s library which had something written on one of the pages — a small verse and a creepy sketch along with. There was no backstory or explanation. It simply said:
“When you’re feeling safe and sound in the comfort of your house, don’t pay attention to the smell of pepper and the weird sounds. The headache will start and your spine will shiver. Tall Tom is here and he will linger.
Don’t look back.”
The sketch was said to show a man in a painful expression, with an elongated figure embracing him from behind. Its hands were on the man’s neck, caressing it. The figure didn’t have a face, only an amorphous mass where a face should be. And a giant, teethed mouth gnawing on the top of the man’s head.
Not very long after those first rumors, the kids went on the internet to talk about the experience:
“When you hear about him, you get obsessed. Can’t stop thinking about it. You can’t let him enter your mind!”, said an agitated girl with curly hair.
“If you start thinking about him, he starts thinking about you too. And he will start coming to you”, whimpered a boy with big glasses. “The more you think, the faster he’ll come!”
“When you are alone or feeling alone, you can almost feel his presence. It’s like faint breathing above you”, deadpanned a girl with colored hair and a thick accent, staring straight at the camera.
The stories spread fast and in a matter of days, there were multiple posts on Reddit and Twitter threads. It was in one of those threads that the story came to me. At first, I scoffed and dismissed it as a bad creepypasta or a cheesy trend. But as time went on, more and more stories were turning up and I couldn’t ignore them. Tall Tom was growing in my mind. I kept repeating the dumb verse in my thoughts and hearing this voice, a low and calm voice, repeating it back to me.
It hooked me faster than I could imagine. A few days later I was one of those people — who I mocked at first — posting on threads, discussing theories, watching peoples’ reports and reactions. I was part of that new, buzzing community centered around those stories.
The discussion was vibrant however, no one knew what happened after some time. The ones who posted a lot about the subject stopped posting altogether on their social media. It was an eerie pattern.
But TT had a growing presence in peoples’ imaginations. There were loads of drawings and art picturing him, all coming from the reports of that first sketch. Whenever one of the most active posters stopped posting for longer than a week, the community went crazy.
“Tall Tom got another’’, they rejoicingly said and went on to wish a peaceful rest.
Some tried to go further, identify the missing ones, but it never went anywhere. Some tried to get to the bottom of the story, scoured the school’s library in search of more clues of TT’s origin, yet that one book remained as the sole mention.
Something peculiar happened after those first testimonies. People tried to take pictures of that page in the book, but later, when they looked at their phones or cameras it was only a dark picture. Even in a live feed, the book would appear distorted. The only way to share Tall Tom’s story was through words. A guy went as far as stealing the book. Only to find it missing the next day, back in its original location.
Even I tried to find something about the disappearances. I looked at newspapers for missing people and obituaries but without success. Ironically, the press never seemed to catch on to this. After a while, the first stories and videos vanished from the websites and that infuriated a lot of people. They accused the moderators of deleting the posts and stories. They accused the websites. They even accused the government. Lots of conspiracy theories emerged because of it.
“They created this to find enemies of the government”, some said. Others that it was to identify those pro-government and off them. Nobody knew. It all started to die down over time. People were talking less and less about TT.
I wasn’t done though. I was so invested in the story that I didn’t want it to end. I needed to get to the core of it all. I kept pushing to keep the discussion alive and it worked for a while. But as my engagement grew, it made me fail to notice that low, gentle voice getting stronger.
A recurrent rustling sound was behind me, almost imperceptible. Whenever I tried to find its source, there was nothing there. Paranoia? Rats? I stopped caring about it after a while, just tuned it out.
Keeping up with my real life was becoming an arduous task. I had to stay awake for longer, trying to cope with everything — my studies, my homework. Despite all that, my grades were still suffering. Getting up to go to work was tougher every day. This nagging headache all the damn time didn’t help, either.
It was too late when I realized what was happening. The damned verse was in my mind for so long that it lost its meaning. I was smelling pepper for days when it clicked. Whenever I heard faint breaths, the smell accompanied, and a tingling sensation on my nape.
There was nothing to do anymore. I felt completely overpowered, with no control of myself. I kept humming the verse and every time the sensations were getting stronger. The only thing I was able to resist was looking back but I knew that wasn’t going to last too long. I could feel my sanity dripping away with every repetition.
It was in one of those days, after several all-nighters fueled by energy drinks and cups of coffee that I decided to let it go. It became too much for me. I couldn’t rest, wasn’t hungry, had no desires. I only felt tired all the time. I sensed him above me, his breath as clear as the sky on a summer morning. A fierce shiver took over me when I at last felt the touch of his hands. Not cold hands, as one would expect, warm and caring. They made me feel like what was going to happen wasn’t a bad thing at all; it would be ok.
So I looked back.
And my heart froze.
There was almost no time to grasp what was happening to me. The size of the yellowish fangs, dripping with saliva, getting closer. He forced my face against his chest while choking my throat, so no scream came out when he pushed in my skull.
A brief moment of pain. Then nothing.
Darkness.
