Okay, this happened to me a few days ago and I can’t get it out of mind. I’d talk to a therapist about it but none would believe me, hell I barely believe myself. So who better to tell than a bunch of strangers?
Again, before I say anything, I’m taking breaks while typing this because this is fucking me up ridiculously bad at the present moment. Just need to get this off my chest. I will probably be joking throughout, that’s just how I cope with things like this. I’d love to be more serious about it, but every time I try to do that I end up on the verge of a panic attack. I’m also changing names of anyone I talked to. To prevent someone tracking me down I’m leaving out personal details, whoever reads it will get the idea.
Background: I (19M) moved out of my parent’s house about a year ago, now I rent a house I can comfortably pay for with my job. Mostly people my age live here, some older, some younger. There’s only one old person in the neighborhood, let’s call her Mrs. Hodges. Her husband had passed away a few years before I had moved in. This is a small neighborhood in a small town, so she is the type to host local events. She’s lived here longer than anyone else can remember, but that’s mostly due to the fact that most of us move out after a couple years. I also work the night shift, I normally sleep during daylight hours, so I don’t see most of my neighbors that often.
Now onto the real story: I had gotten home around 6am, fairly late. During the night shift there had been an incident leading to police getting involved.
I found out a panel was strangely left to the side next to one of the shelves. I went in to move it and wrote a note down on my phone to tell the boss we need to fix that wall. To my utter horror whenever I checked the wall where the panel went, there was a black tarp covering it up, with holes torn in it. Just enough to pull to the side for a full grown man to get into.
As I walked in, I remember doing a scared awkward laugh and letting out a quiet “What the fuck. What the actual fuck.”
Some hobo had been squatting in our work for at least a few months. To add to it, this guy had some strange obsession with me. He had notes upon notes about me, my hours, my appearance, my “personality”. God, this fucking guy had been stalking me. The only reason he was able to figure this out is because I stumbled into his nest. It was sick. There were drawings and shit of me that looked like they were drawn by a small child. There was also a lot of writing directly on the walls, probably written in some markers he took from the store. A lot of scribbles and writing was on the walls, his handwriting and drawing skills looked like what a kid would make. Oh and there were a lot of drawings of him killing me and burying my lifeless body. You know, normal kid stuff.
Forgot to say earlier, I work the nightshift at a local store, it’s a lot like Walmart. Just smaller, and owned by a nice family in the nice side of town. Most of my nightshift duties involve cleaning up the store for when it opens in the day and restocking shelves, standard fare. Normally I’m the only one there. I had caught muddy footprints several times and chocked it up to customers coming in during rainy days and not wiping their feet on the rug before I found this guy. Actually, CCTV footage showed him buying the absolute cheapest food he could get, he was a very common customer. I would feel bad for him if it weren’t for him trying to murder me. Here’s the kicker: I even found some of the cheap food on the floor of his nest. The scariest thing to me was the fact there were several unopened packages.
I had run into the guy a couple of times, he always came at 8am, when I was leaving. He had a smoker’s voice and was fairly scrawny, I’d only rung him a couple times when I had to stay later.
Despite the fact I always kept a pocket knife on myself during shifts, it was one of the most terrifying situations I had somehow managed to catch myself in.
I was the only one in the building so I noped the fuck out and made a 911 call outside the building. I wasn’t being paid enough for this. The officer on the phone told me to hold tight and to lock myself in the employees’ only area for the time being. I locked myself in there for around 15-20 minutes until the cops arrived. I’m not a religious person in any way, shape, or form, but I was praying they could catch that guy and put him in jail or some mental hospital, my head was spinning.
An officer knocked on my door, “Hello! Police! Anyone in there?!?” He said. His voice was firm, but definitely not wheezy like the homeless guy.
I was still scared shitless. “Yeah! I’m the guy who called 911!” I yelled back through the door.
“Alright son, can you unlock the door for me? We just need to know where to find the hiding space.”
I let out probably the heaviest sigh of relief and unlocked the door. “Did you bring anyone else?”
“My buddy’s surveying the store for any other signs of the squatter. We have another guy in case we need back-up, no one else though.”
“Alright, thank you sir.”
“What’s your name, kid?” The officer asked.
“It’s Josh,” I remember pausing to look down at his nametag, “Officer Steve.” (Steve isn’t his real name, I don’t want to reveal his real name either.)
I don’t remember quite what I said from here, my brain goes fuzzy at this point. It was something to the effect of “Okay, I’ll show you the guy’s large ass hole.”
The officer took a second to talk on his walkie talkie then followed me as I led him through the store. (The nest was on the other side of the store. The employee’s room is closer to the front.) When we reached the room I pulled away the tarp for Officer Steve and he stepped inside of it. Again, he said something over the walkie talkie like “Yeah we found the guy’s hidey hole. Over.”
When we stepped inside the officer stared at the collection with a face I haven’t seen a person use except on a cop show. It made the situation feel fake, like it was happening to someone else. I remember wondering why me of all people it had to be, why this guy had fixated on me specifically. I’m very boring to talk to in my real life, I don’t even have that many friends, who would seriously make a fucking shrine dedicated to me?
“What’s your full name, Josh?” The officer asked me, pulling out a pen and paper.
“Josh Lastname, sir.” (No, this isn’t my real name, don’t harass some guy actually named Josh Lastname over some story someone told on reddit. If someone’s last name is “Lastname” they already have enough problems in their life.)
The officer nodded. “Mr. Lastname, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me down to the station in a moment.”
My blood ran cold, I felt a deep pit in my throat when I asked him why. I didn’t realize how serious the situation was until he asked me that.
“The person who was living here seems to have been here for several months at the least, we’ll ask you questions about this first then we’re moving onto the rest of your coworkers.”
For the first time in a long time I felt like I was going to cry, like I was a kid again. It was fucking terrifying to feel so powerless to this situation. I couldn’t enter this store again, I’d have to quit in the morning. I still haven’t yet, my boss gave me a few days off to think about it.
The officer put a hand on my shoulder and led me out of the nest, when we were out of the room he put police tape over the door. “Josh, I know you’re very scared and confused right now, but we need to know if there is security footage from the last year stored somewhere.”
I nodded, saying nothing, I think I gestured for him to follow me.
On the long way back I think he called to tell his buddy where he was going, or what he found. I was in too much of a daze to make it out.
Once we got into the security room I looked for a few boxes. We still have fairly old cameras which are in black and white, but fairly reliable. I looked through the cabinet, which I had the key to (every employee does, sometimes we need to wipe old tapes.) I looked through the large cabinet for a box labeled from this year, I found a large one labeled for this year and the last, which I gave to the officer.
I remember laughing quietly and asking something like “I guess I finally get to be on the news, right?”
I heard a low sigh from the officer, “Don’t count on it.”
Nothing remarkable happened between that conversation and the police asking me what happened back at the station. They made me sign a few forms, asked me about my job, my background, all that. I didn’t know the guy’s name beforehand, I learned it was something like Bob, or John, or Joe, something generic like that. I learned they were suspecting him due to old records of similar shit like this he pulled. After a while they called Mr. Simmons (my boss) to come to the station for further questioning and let me go. I remembered I had left my fucking car at the store, so it would be a 30 minute walk to it so I could get home. It was maybe 6am at this point, so it was getting brighter. Fan-fucking-tastic, I had to walk to my car with the sunlight blinding me. At that point I kind of wished I had gotten murdered, the summer weather is the absolute worst.
After that it was also uneventful, I settled into my house for fifteen minutes until leaving to go to my next door neighbor’s house, Mrs. Hodges’. I couldn’t sleep at all, and the guy hadn’t been found yet. For all I knew the bastard could’ve followed me home! It was nearly 7 at this point, so I knew she was normally awake by then. I didn’t know her well, but enough to ask if I could stay to crash there for the day.
I stood at the porch thinking if I should call my parents or not. I decided against it, they would decide I wasn’t “allowed” to live on my own despite being a grown ass adult.
I didn’t bring much, I would only stay for the day, just a toothbrush, my glasses, a charger, and half a box of muffins I got from the store the other morning to make up for the trouble.
I knocked on the door and she welcomed me in. “Oh, good morning.” She said in her sweet voice, before she looked over at me. I probably looked horrible, I was sweaty and pale, my hair was probably a mess from trying to get to sleep as well. “Josh, are you alright?”
I wanted to say yes but all that came out of my mouth was a whimper and I nearly started crying on the spot.
She looked at me very worriedly. “Come on in dear, I’ll get you some tea and you can tell me about it.”
I nodded and gave her the muffins, which she set down on the table next to the door. “There’s a couple of blankets on the couch, once you feel better try to drink some tea.”
I nodded again and without a word I sat down on the couch and wrapped a blanket around myself. It was hot out, and the blanket was cold from disuse, which was convenient for me.
After she brewed tea for me, iced tea, she had figured out that’s the one type I liked a long time ago.
I told her the same story I told earlier, just about as well as someone who just got out of a traumatic event can. She listened to me carefully and said she would keep an eye out for the hobo and I could stay for the day.
I wasn’t going to sleep, so I just decided to watch some youtube videos with headphones on. Just anything to distract myself. This was a small house so she watched TV on the recliner on the other side of the room.
Keep in mind, this was a small neighborhood. Mrs. Hodges trusted everyone, a little too much actually, and left her doors unlocked. I only found out this when I stayed at hers because she locked all her doors when I came inside. It honestly made me feel uneasy, how had she lived so long in this neighborhood and never gotten broken into? This wasn’t the nice side of town, and she was old, so I imagined she wouldn’t be able to fight back.
After a while of being at her house we both heard loud knocking from the front door of the house. It scared the shit out of me. The knocking continued, erratic, it would pound several times then stop for a few seconds then go again.
I turned around and peaked through the blinds. I let out a decently loud, “shit” on immediate reaction, immediately regretting it. The hobo stared at me with this thousand yard stare, like he was looking through me. I cursed myself for forgetting how paper thin the walls were.
Mrs. Hodges got up and started to walk towards the door. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”
“It’s the guy- the guy!” I shouted at her. She was going to get herself killed. It reminded me of the stories I heard about old ladies checking the door, only to get the shit beaten out of them and robbed. I don’t know if those are true or not, I just know that’s the first thing I thought about.
“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.” She said calmly.
A million thoughts raced through my head as she opened the door, I braced myself, taking the pocket knife out of my pocket and opening it just in case. I was not winding up on a murder case if I had anything to say about.
A wheezy voice spoke through the door. “Josh. Where’s Josh.” He asked, more a command than a question.
“Safe. Get the hell out or I will make sure you don’t.” Mrs. Hodges said in a dark tone I had never heard from her before.
“You think you can threaten me?” The hobo let out a wheezy laugh, “Fucking bitch. Are you stupid? I need Josh. I know he’s here. Right now.”
I watched as she stared for a long moment. “Give me a good reason.” She said, fuck, I had never heard her sound as threatening as that before or since. It caught me off-guard, and made my blood go cold for the second time that day.
The homeless man pulled out a knife, “I’ll fucking cut you like a fish! Is that good enough for you?!?” The man cackled, his lungs seemed to push out as much air as they were capable of, he choked and laughed. It was the third most disturbing thing I had seen that day. He raised the knife up to Mrs. Hodges’ throat, before his hand paused mid-motion.
To my utter horror, I watched as one of Mrs. Hodges’ hands turned black, black tar-like flesh ran up to her upper arm. The homeless guy seemed stuck in place, he stared ahead with wide eyes. His pupils shrank as he seemed to struggle in place to get away.
I watched as my friendly neighbor’s arm stretched to inhuman proportions large and wrapped a few times around the homeless man’s neck. The man choked and tried to struggle in her grasp, the thing was I don’t think she was choking him like I did before. Thinking back to it, his face didn’t turn red, he didn’t seem to be struggling to breathe. It was more like something was caught in his throat.
The seconds seemed to stretch on to be hours as I watched Mrs. Hodges place her other (now tar hand) on his face. Some of the goop went into his nose and mouth. I watched in horror as he was reduced to dust within a matter of seconds.
I was frozen.
My nice unsuspecting neighbor had killed someone right in front of me. Fuck what the hobo was going to do to me, that was the most disturbing thing I had seen that day. I had never believed in the paranormal, this is the first time I even considered it. She killed someone so easily. She could kill me so easily!
I watched as she calmly took a dustpan and broom to sweep up the ashes of that man.
“Wh-what are you?” I asked, voice shaking.
Mrs. Hodges replied in her usual sickeningly sweet voice, “I’m what you humans refer to as an eldritch horror.”
“What?” I asked, half laughing. She was so calm, god. I felt like I was sweating again.
“I know you don’t live long to comprehend how long I’ve been around, but I can tell you as much as you’d like to know. Just don’t tell anyone else, sweetie.”
I nodded as she finished sweeping, throwing away the man’s ashes in a trashcan. She made me tea for me again.
She sat down in her recliner after she set tea on the table. She inhaled then looked over at me. “I understand how hard this is to understand. You creatures live too short to understand a being as old as I am.”
“How-how old are you?” I asked. My heart was beating so hard in my chest I could hear in my ears.
“Just a couple of centuries, fairly young actually.”
“What are you?”
“We don’t have a name, never needed one. My kind has lived around humans for millennium. How much do you know of Jesus Christ?” She asked me.
If it weren’t such a serious situation I would’ve laughed at the irony of that question. “My parents made me go to church every week before I moved out, I know a lot actually.”
She was the one who laughed. “Hun, I hate to tell you this but you know very little of him. He’s the first documented one of us. Though, his stories are widely different from the abilities most of us possess, I’m sure human myth has bled fiction into fact.”
I stared, choosing not to speak.
“It’s a shame, you humans do live so shortly, my husband was human. It’s a true shame. He was the only one I knew who could grasp what I am, if just barely.”
“You’ve.. killed people before?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s such a dreadful thing. I don’t do it often. Besides, I wanted to get rid of that problem.” Her eyes flicked to the trashcan, her eyes darkening before she returned to her normal and let out a chuckle. “I haven’t had to do it in nearly 70 years now.”
I nodded, my head was spinning again. “Why did you.. protect me if you can kill someone so easily?”
She stared at me seriously. “Josh, you know you’re a very young man, you don’t harm others enough for me to harm you. I only hurt bad people, okay?” She said in a voice similar to one which a parent would explain to their child. It hit me that despite being an adult, in her eyes I was a child.
“Okay, but why did you keep me safe? Me specifically? You’re.. a being from unknown origins, you don’t.. You’re not human, I don’t…”
“Josh, you’re far too young to have to contemplate that. When I heard of your plight I knew something had to be done, I know how scarring it must be but I’m still just Mrs. Hodges.” She stopped speaking and an awkward silence fell over the room. “If you want to, you can leave now, I don’t mind if you ask questions. Not many get to have a glimpse of beings like myself. I know you would like some time to reflect, this must be shocking to you. Just know, if you have any more trouble just give me a call.” She smiled at me, she was the same nice neighbor I knew. I couldn’t place it into the uncanny valley territory no matter how much I wanted to. It just felt so genuine.
“Thanks, Mrs. Hodges, I’d rather leave.” I said, or something to that effect.
“Alright, you have a nice sleep now you hear? You have nothing to worry about now.” She said as I was grabbing my stuff.
“I’ll try.” I said. Then I left her house.
When I was inside my living room, I checked all the locks, locking all of them, including the windows. Nobody could blame me for being paranoid after what I witnessed today, all of it. If I needed to I could just blame it on the hobo stalker.
I’ve been checking the locks every day these past few days. I don’t know how to understand any of this. It’s fucking crazy. Absolutely fucking crazy. She was right, I can’t comprehend this. As much as I try, nothing factors correctly in my brain.
Call me crazy, call me anything. But I know what happened that day and it is seared into my mind for as long as I live. I know what happened that day and nobody can make me believe I don’t.
So all I ask is please believe me. Believe my story. Believe there are others like Mrs. Hodges out there, living among us. Living their natural lives, maybe on your street, in your scripture, maybe even your family.
Just don’t tell anyone who told you.
EDIT: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/vc8kce/nonhuman_neighbor_update/
I wrote an update here, please read it.