I wasn’t sure where to share this story. I figured this sub was fitting. I haven’t told anyone I know in real life yet, so you all are pretty much the first people to hear about this.
For the past few weeks, my dog has been howling every time I let him outside. It’s starting to drive me up a wall, because it doesn’t seem like he’s howling at anything in particular except for the old shed, which I assure you, I’ve checked multiple times for ghosts, dead animals, and anything else I could think of. There’s nothing inside it but rakes and boxes.
I thought maybe there were some sort of critters around, but I was confused as to why he wouldn’t be barking at the fence or the tree. There’s plenty of bushes surrounding my backyard for any small animals to hide in, but it’s always the shed that he barks at. I got so tired of it I started taking him on walks whenever he needed to be let out. I couldn’t stand the incessant howling, and I’m sure the neighbors couldn’t either.
Somehow, that made things worse. He started to scratch on the door frantically, even after I took him on a walk. He would sometimes even howl or bark to be let out, which he rarely does. I ended up shutting myself in my room and blasting music to block out the noise. He had already gone to the bathroom, so he wouldn’t have an accident in the house. He was just being ridiculous at this point.
I called up my neighbor a few times to see if I could stay at his house, maybe bring my dog with me, but he didn’t answer. I tried knocking on his door, too. After the fourth day in a row with no response, I figured he was probably on a vacation with someone, even though his car was in the driveway. He must’ve been picked up, or something. I was a bit annoyed he couldn’t even answer my calls, though.
My dog only acted weirder as the days went by. He stayed by the door when he was asleep, and scratched at it when he was awake. He wouldn’t even step away from it to eat his food. It’s almost as if he was trying to show me something. Out of curiosity I opened the door again, to see if maybe something different would happen. He went to the exact same spot. Right next to the shed.
I scoffed and followed him, but stopped as soon as I got there, noticing that there was a pungent smell coming from the shed. A mix of rotten eggs and garbage, but worse. I covered my nose with my shirt, holding my breath, and slowly reached my hand toward the handle, opening it a crack, then halfway, then all the way.
It looked the same as it did every day before. I sifted through the few items inside for what seemed like the tenth time, but found nothing. What was even weirder is that the smell was gone. For a moment, at least. As soon as I stepped outside the shed, it came back. I nearly gagged. It was so strong. I couldn’t figure out the source of it, either. I assumed it could be a gas leak, so I quickly went back inside and motioned for my dog to follow me. He didn’t.
“God damnit,” I groaned. “Just stop.”
I grabbed him by the collar. He didn’t budge. I tried to pick him up, but he growled. That was the first time he’d shown any sign of aggression since he was a puppy. I stepped away. The rotten egg smell continued to fill my nostrils, so I decided to leave him there and go inside. As soon as I closed the door, the howling started again. I grabbed an old gas mask hanging up on my shelf, put it on, and went back outside, cursing under my breath.
I went inside the shed one last time. I noticed a sledgehammer leaning against the side, which gave me an idea. My dog couldn’t bark at the shed if I smashed it apart. It was made of plywood and was worn down from years of bad weather. I could easily destroy it.
I picked up the hammer, which took two tries after being thrown off by the weight of it, and started slamming it into the walls of the shed. The wood immediately splintered. This finally caused my dog to stop howling for a moment and back up a few feet. I continued to swing until a hole was formed, and then I ripped off the first wall, which was surprisingly easy. I went for the door next, aiming for the hinges. It nearly fell on top of me, and I had to collect myself for a moment. I was down to the last two walls. I hit the roof from underneath and quickly stumbled backwards as the remaining parts of the shed collapsed. Rats scampered out from random directions and I swatted houseflies out of my face. I felt every ounce of blood drain from my face as I saw what had been behind the shed.
On the ground there was a pair of garden shears, and above it was my missing neighbor, skewered like a rotisserie chicken on my metal fence. His skin was completely blue.
My sledgehammer clattered to the ground and I keeled over in shock and disgust. My dog ran towards my neighbor’s remains and howled until his voice cracked, only stopping to…
…bite a piece of…
…skin off of…
…his arm.
I let out a bloodcurdling scream, scrambled to my feet, grabbed my dog, and sprinted inside. I think he ate the chunk of…meat…before I entered the door. Jesus fucking Christ. I ripped off my gas mask and looked for my phone, pretty much hyperventilating all the while.
This all happened about a week ago. The cops cleaned everything up. I was questioned, but too stunned to speak, and they ruled it as an accident on my neighbor’s part. I covered the back door with a black cloth. I’m never going out there again. I’m moving out of this house. Or killing myself. Not sure which one. The image has been flashing in my mind ever since I saw it. I’ve only just now gained the courage to put my experience on paper.
My dog still howls at the door.