 I've always been able to sense things when it's going to storm, when a car on the highway is about to lose a tire, when a distant family member is sick, or even the most mundane things like a cup of water about to be spilled. People think I'm just an observant person, but I can sense other things too, things that humans should never be aware of. The earliest example of this that can be remembered was when I was three. Like most children, I wasn't keen on going to bed, so there I laid, staring at the plastic glow stars on the ceiling. When a sensation I'd never felt before consumed me, someone, or rather something, was in my doorway. It starts the same every time, like you're falling, about to crash onto the pavement. But the pavement never comes, you just start falling faster, and you're beginning to get nauseous, but there's something demanding you look at it, and you're unsure if acknowledging its existence will make it better or worse. In that instance, acknowledging it made everything worse. What I saw poking its misshapen head in my doorway has been burned into my mind. I like to describe him as hamburger meat personified, though that doesn't really do him justice. But I really don't want to make anyone sick with the gory details. That's not what this story is about. I've learned in my short life that most of these entities are relatively harmless, and that if you suppress that feeling, do nothing to acknowledge them. They'll leave on their own. Sometimes curiosity will get the best of me and I'll look at them with their inhuman shapes while they slip out of reality. That's really all they want. Just to be seen. And then there's the entities that demand acknowledgement. No amount of ignorance or suppression will send them away. You have to play by their rules or you'll be nauseous and falling forever. And I truly do mean forever. Thankfully, I've only had two such encounters like this. It was around sunset in El Rido. I'd rented a room to stay in that night as I was just passing through town. I don't know if you've ever been to New Mexico, but the landscape is otherworldly. You can seemingly see for miles and I make no exaggeration when I tell you there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. No buildings, no people, not even a single tree. I was already uneasy. The place wall nice was extremely hard to find and there'd been no cell service for miles. The sun was cast in a way that covered the land in a blood red light. Someone else might have found it beautiful. I fumbled with a lock code to the door when the familiar nauseous feeling started to take hold. I wasn't in the mood for these anomalies, so I ignored it and hurried inside. The windows had all been left with the curtains drawn, presumably to let in soft natural light. Unfortunately, the softness was lost as the setting sun cast stark red lines all over the place, only adding to my nausea. Moving the place over, I found that there was no television, no Wi-Fi, and still no cell service. Falling faster, I stumbled onto the red leather couch, holding my eyes shut, waiting for whatever wanted my attention to get bored and leave me alone. You can probably guess by now that wasn't going to happen. Hours seemed to pass by and still I was falling. The sun had not set and the room was still bathed in blood. I studied my breathing and turned a peek out of the window trying to catch a glimpse of this persistent anomaly. Truth be told, I was expecting some Lovecraftian horror to be hovering out there in the desert. What was actually out there was worse. Just across the road, on the edge of the vast nothingness of the New Mexican Desert, was a solid white hair. If you're not familiar with hairs, they are not the cute rabbit you're thinking of. Imagine that small, cutesy little bunny stretched out over a skeleton far too big for its skin, with bulging wide eyes and so impossibly skinny. You wonder how it's even alive at all. And hairs are very rarely solid white in the desert. It was standing on its hind legs like hairs tend to do, staring right into the window as I looked in silent terror. Don't get me wrong, I'm by no means afraid of rabbits. But something about that stark whiteness on the Red Desert's scape was, for lack of a better word, wrong. I'd like to tell you that's all that happened, that it was just a strange encounter in the desert that I remember from time to time. And you know, I had to go across that road. There was no other way. I had to meet it. And it looked pleased as I nervously crossed the highway, its rabbit mouth twisting into an unsettling smile. I thought you'd never come. It spoke in many voices all mixed up together, yet separate at the same time. I said nothing. Do you know how hard it is to find observant people these days? Seems like everyone has their eyes glued to those little black boxes. You mean cell phones? Cell phones. It almost yelled. That's what they're called. Thank you. I can't keep up with the rate you humans come up with things. Again, I said nothing. Let's not waste time on meaningless small talk. You, my friend, opened a door that you shouldn't have, and now I'm here to offer you a deal. I knew about the door he spoke of, but as I've said before, that isn't what this story is about. What kind of deal? I couldn't help but ask. I didn't think it was possible, but this rabbit mouth smiled wider. I believe your kind call a Faustian bargain, the devil at the crossroads. You understand. You want my soul. Despite the dangerous situation, I couldn't help but laugh. That's a little cliche. We're not even at a crossroad, and I don't believe in that shit anyway. Its eyes briefly flashed with anger before going back to its unsettling, smiling self. If you don't believe in that shit, what's the harm then? I did say it was a bargain, so by your logic, you'd get something for absolutely nothing. You can't lose. He was right. What's a soul when you believe there's nothing in the end? And truth be told, I didn't have a lot going for me. Besides my gift of observance, I was average in every way. Say I accept your bargain. What do I get out of it? Its form seemed to grow larger and more grotesque with excitement. Anything you want. This became a more existential question for myself. What did I want? I was okay on money. I wasn't horribly unattractive, just average, just plain. I thought about what made my life truly interesting, what made me different. I think, I said in a weaker voice than intended, I think I want to be whatever it is you are. It grew larger still to where it was now standing almost at my height and took an exaggerated bow as you wish. His many voices sounded more sad than unsettling now. With no more than a simple blink, I was now alone in the middle of the highway. The sun had finally set, taking its otherworldly red glow with it. I walked in a trance back to the unfamiliar place I'd rented for the night. Just instinctively, I checked myself over in the bathroom mirror. To my surprise, I still looked like me, maybe a little older, but that could have just been my imagination. The only difference that I could see were my eyes. They've always been dark, but now they seemed impossibly black with no discernible reflection in them at all. Beyond that, nothing had changed. I was still me, still human, in the desolate desert of El Rito. I'm still average, still plain, or at least that's what I'd like you to believe. The truth, like always, is much worse. But like I've said too many times already, that's not what this story is about.