Macy Hilroy never believed in the legend of Peeping Tom. Never gave in to the relentless rumours spreading throughout town and all the ghost stories told at campfires by the neighbourhood kids. To her, it was nothing more than a rubbish story made up by some dumb teenagers trying to scare off the community. No matter how much "proof" or "evidence" of the legend, Macy knew that it was all talk and no show. She was determined to prove to herself and others that Peeping Tom was nothing more than a silly myth.
Down off 14th street, crossing over the river, there was a tunnel blown in the mountainside for the train to pass through. It was a very eerie, desolate area—a place where hardly anyone, other than the train itself, or edgy kids attempting to mess with the paranormal, would travel. But more importantly, it was home to Peeping Tom.
The story went that a homeless man named Tom in the 1900s got hit by the train and died, and now it was his spirit haunting the tunnel. But everyone had their own version of the tale.
To summon Peeping Tom, one would have to stare down the tunnel at exactly midnight for thirty seconds straight without blinking. Once completed, it was said that Peeping Tom would arise from the train tracks. From that day following, over the span of the next thirty days, he would then gradually and physically get closer to you, until he eventually bludgeoned you to death. Peeping Tom was said to be a black, shadowy figure with a top hat on his head, but again, everyone had their own version. Yet one thing was agreed upon, and that was to stay away from the tunnel and Peeping Tom.
Many years ago, it was also rumoured that a young girl around Macy's age, went to the tunnel at midnight and summoned Peeping Tom. And, just like the legend said, for the next thirty days, he ever so slowly got closer to her—until he forced her to take a pair of scissors and gouge her own eyes out, just so she wasn't forced to keep seeing him. She was found dead the next day, and police reports stated that she'd been in a state of shock at the time of death. Still, that wasn't enough to convince Macy.
So one cold, snowy night, she somehow convinced her friend Madeleine to come with her to the tunnel. They hurried down the train tracks in their puffy winter coats, only five minutes until midnight.
"Hurry up," Macy ordered. "We're going to miss him."
Madeleine trailed behind, gasping. "I don't think this is a good idea. I think we should turn back."
"No," Macy retorted. "You agreed to come with me."
"Yeah, but I've changed my mind. I don't think we should be messing around with this stuff."
Macy huffed. "You really buy into that crap? Come on, I'm going to show you it's not real."
So Madeleine followed along, refusing to trust her gut instinct.
It was 11:58 when the girls reached the tunnel. It was very dark and intimidating, to the point Madeleine couldn't even look down it, the fear of seeing Peeping Tom too deep. As for Macy, there was surprisingly little to no fear. She had managed to convince herself the legend wasn't real. She prepared herself by blinking numerous times, getting her eyelids wet. Madeleine stood beside her with a stopwatch in one hand to record the thirty seconds and her cell phone in the other.
"Ten more seconds until midnight," she informed Macy, the fear clear as day in her voice. "Three...two...one—"
Macy opened her eyes wide and stared straight down the tunnel. The cool, crisp air was already harsh on her lashes, but she refused to give in. Gradually, the urge to blink became greater and greater. Thirty seconds didn't sound like much, but it was more difficult than Macy had initially predicted.
"Okay," Madeleine eventually said, counting down in her petrified tone. "Five...four...three—"
Macy was tempted to give in, but pushed through.
"—two...one—"
Macy finally blinked, a rush of energy passing through her as she anticipated Peeping Tom to rise from the tracks.
But, just like all the times she had told herself in the past, nothing happened. The only thing she could see was the outline of snow falling from the opposite side of the tunnel.
What a joke, she triumphantly thought to herself. I knew it wasn't real.
Macy gazed over to Madeleine, who was trembling in horror.
"D-did you see him?" she asked, about to faint.
Macy smiled. "Nope. And here you all were trying to convince me about some dumb urban legend. I can't wait to spread the news that it's just a hoax."
"O-okay. Can we go now?" Madeleine asked. "I'm seriously freaked out."
Macy finally gave in, and the two left the tunnel.
. . . . .
The following day Macy awoke and went about her morning business—showering, brushing her hair and teeth, doing makeup.
Everything was going perfectly normal, and she had almost forgotten about the previous night, despite all her excited energy to spread the truth about Peeping Tom. She figured she'd first walk into town and let all the local people know that she'd exposed the truth—that everything they'd heard or been told was a complete and utter lie.
But just as Macy was about to enter the village, she noticed a strange figure staring at her from across the field. It was difficult to make out, but looked like some sort of shadow casting over a set of bushes. At first, Macy played it off as her imagination.
Yet when she saw the figure again minutes later, this time standing around the same distance in a corner, she began to feel anxious. Macy didn't want to do the impossible, but she felt the urge to ask herself, Is that Peeping Tom?
No...it couldn't be. The legend was fake. Macy had proved it last night when she didn't see him rise at the tracks, hadn't she?
But throughout the day, the more her thinking carried on, the more she continued to see the figure. And for that first day, it stayed a great distance away from her.
Though just like what had happened to the girl in the story, each and every day, over the span of thirty days, millimetre by millimetre, the figure gradually got closer to Macy. The realization of this sent her entire world into a full-blown panic attack. Knowing that her life would come to an end by those thirty days was an indescribable horror, and the regret of not listening to what everyone had said about avoiding Peeping Tom was too much to bear. It was the ultimate psychological torture. Every day, he would creep just one step closer. Macy began acting out in disturbing manners, going as far as locking herself in her room for days at a time.
"Please," she'd whisper under her breath, crying herself to sleep every single night. "Leave me alone! I didn't know you were real!"
But Peeping Tom showed no remorse, continuously making appearances each and every day, gradually getting closer.
Until one day he stood so close to Macy that she could practically hear his heart beating. Locked inside her room with the doors and windows boarded up, she curled into a ball, while Peeping Tom stood just inches away, ready to bludgeon her to death.
"GOD, PLEASE HELP ME!" she screamed hysterically. "I'M BEGGING YOU! PLEASE!"
"Macy, open the door!" her mother shouted from the other side, crying to herself. "Stop playing this game! You're scaring the shit out of your father and I!"
"HE'S GONNA KILL ME!" she shouted. "PLEASE! HE'S GONNA KILL ME!"
"Enough!" her dad yelled. "Open this door or we're calling the police!"
"PLEASE! I DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS REAL! HELP ME!"
Disturbed beyond recovery, her mother grabbed the phone and ordered an ambulance and police officers to the house.
But by the time they arrived, the frantic screaming of Macy had slowly come to a stop.
Because she had boarded up the doorway, it took the police an additional ten minutes to bust through, waiting for backup. Once they finally did, there they found Macy, deceased and hanging from her closet, with black markings and scribblings all over her walls about a so-called "Peeping Tom." It looked like something a crazy person would do in an asylum.
Yes, Macy had been warned, but she'd refused to listen.
Perhaps it was best to leave evil spirits and urban legends alone to rest.