I sat in my dark living room, laptop perched on my knees as I scrolled through the endless pages of a creepy pasta website. The stories were like a drug to me, sending shivers down my spine and making my heart race with each word. I couldn’t get enough, and the more I read, the more I craved.
One particular story had caught my eye - the title was simple, yet effective. “The House Next Door.” Intrigued, I clicked on it and began to read.
The author described a quiet suburban neighborhood, where nothing ever seemed to happen. That was, until the new family moved in next door. They were strange, he said, and there was something off about them. They never left the house, and their windows were always shuttered and always had a sign that read “For Sale”.
As the days went on, the author began to feel increasingly uneasy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and he knew it had something to do with the house next door.
One night, the author was awoken by a loud banging on his front door. He stumbled out of bed, heart pounding, and cautiously made his way to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by his neighbor’s daughter. She looked terrified, and her clothes were torn and muddy. She begged him for help, and when he asked her what had happened, she could only manage a single word: “Them.”
The author knew immediately what she was talking about. He followed her over to the house next door, heart in his throat. As they approached, they could hear the sounds of screaming and moaning coming from inside. The daughter fell to the ground, sobbing, and the author crept inside to investigate.
What he found inside was a scene straight out of his worst nightmares. The family that had moved in next door were not human at all, but some kind of monstrous creatures. They were feasting on the bodies of their victims, tearing them limb from limb with their razor-sharp teeth and claws.
As I read the final words of the story, I felt a wave of terror wash over me. It was so vivid, so visceral, that it felt like I was right there with the author, trapped in that hellish nightmare.
I closed my laptop and glanced around my dark, silent living room. Everything was still and quiet, but I knew that something was out there. Something was waiting for me.
The next day, I decided to go for a little “Sunday ride” to clear my thoughts.
As I drove back home, I came across this house I had never seen before. It had a dark faded sign that faintly made out “For Sale”.
A feeling of fear came over me.
I noticed that it had been a long time since anybody even took a look at the house. The old house was left to die, alone, with no one to care. The paint was peeling, the windows were broken and the shingles had been torn from the roof, probably by past storms. What caught my eye was that the unkempt yard, it looked like it hadn’t been cut since the house was abandoned, the grass was almost my height and there was nothing but weeds everywhere. I imagined this house would’ve probably been huge and gorgeous in its days. It had three full stories. The fourth floor had an attic where you could sit and see the sunset on the horizon. The house also had a huge porch with large white columns making a fence to support the balcony. The columns were full of dirt; they looked less white and more brownish-black.
I don’t know what possessed me to enter, but I did. I walked towards the house and notice that the back door did not have a lock, this made it easy for me to enter the house. The inside of the house was just as decrepit as the outside. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, the walls were peeling and the floors creaked with every step I took.
As I moved deeper into the house, I began to hear strange noises. A whisper here, a creak there. I brushed it off as just the wind. But then I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned around, but there was no one there. I decided it was time to leave.
But as I attempted to make my way back to the entrance, I found myself lost in an unfamiliar maze of hallways. The whispers grew louder and the footsteps followed me wherever I went.
Panic began to set in as I desperately searched for an exit. But the house seemed to have a life of its own, leading me deeper into its depths.
“Welcome to my home.”
As the eerie voice spoke, a cold sweat broke out all over my body, and my heart pounded in my chest. It grabbed me. I tried to struggle free, but the ghostly being’s grip was too strong.
“You’re never leaving this house,” it repeated, its voice filled with malice.
Panic surged through me as I realized that I might never make it out alive. But then, in a sudden burst of adrenaline-fueled courage, I summoned all my strength and managed to break free from its grasp.
I scrambled to my feet and raced towards the nearest exit, heart pounding and mind racing. The footsteps and whispers seemed to follow me, urging me to stay, but I refused to listen.
As I burst through the front door and stumbled out into the sunlight, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had made it out alive.
But the terror of that day stayed with me, haunting me like a nightmare that I could never fully escape. Every time I thought of the house next door or heard the sound of footsteps behind me, I felt that same chill of fear run down my spine.