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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/bread_ley on 2023-06-27 02:05:35+00:00.
After seeing the story recently posted on this subreddit titled “The Haunting”, I have decided to share my own encounter with it.
My encounter began a few months ago, three or four, I cant remember exactly. I had decided to take a few buddies along with me to the Algerian Mountains (Djebel Chélia specifically.) I will not disclose their actual names out of respect for their privacy, so I will call them John, Mike, and Dave.
We had parked not too far away from the site, and began our hike. A couple hours later, night began to fall, so Dave suggested we set up a tent. Fires are not permitted at Djebel Chélia, so we had to settle with a few chairs by lamp-light. What was permitted however, was alcohol.
Loaded up on vodka, me and my buddies began to tell stories to each other. Mike started with a load of nonsense about an ancient Greek myth he claimed to have seen just a few days ago. Everyone found it hilarious.
Until, John opened up about some graves he vandalized a bit down the trail.
We had passed an old dilapidated cemetery a few hundred feet back, and apparently he had stayed behind a few minutes and spray painted profanity on several of the tombstones.
Despite our blatant drunkenness, we all bashed on him for being so disrespectful. We never would have thought our buddy John would do something so vile. Eventually, he got fed up with us, and headed into the tent, where he presumably laid to rest.
Just minutes later, we heard branches cracking from behind the tent, and a chill passed through me.
John let loose a blood curdling scream as the tent shook from his desperate attempt to free himself from The Haunting. Me and the others looked at each other in sheer terror as we heard a multitude of squelching noises emerge from the tent, and the shaking stopped.
As we argued whether to book it to the car or check out if John was still alive, the majority won and we began to head to the car.
Finally, after what felt like weeks, we sat inside my car, a wave of relief washed over us. I turned the key as I announced that we are going to the Mosque, the only source of help I could think of at the time.
After about an hour, I cant recall but it sure felt like it, we arrived.
I asked if the guys were alright, considering the possible loss of our dear friend John, and turned to find Mike in the passenger seat, rotting alive. His skin was decaying in seconds, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to speak. I stared in horror, fighting the urge to vomit, as he turned his head towards me, his teeth slowly falling loose as he struggled to move his jaw to form words.
The Haunting got to him.
Dave and I pushed open our doors and ran inside the Mosque, looking for help.
Upon entering, we were greeted by the muezzin. He desperately tried to calm us down, as tears streamed from Dave’s eyes. We told him of the encounter, and he chalked it up to a sort of demon, though I believe him to be incorrect. Dave, (fluent in Arabic,) translated what I was saying to him.
Just as he beckoned for us to sit down and fetch us some tea, Mike’s rotting corpse burst through the front doors of the mosque, crumbling them to pieces. He then pounced on top of the muezzin, tearing flesh off of his face. I couldn’t tell if it was The Haunting satisfying it’s bloodlust, or Mike trying to replace the rapidly falling skin that was decaying from him. Dave and I bolted out the destroyed entrance and to our vehicle, and I slammed the gas to the floor.
It has been a little over a month now, and we have returned to our respective homes, and we hope to never see The Haunting again.
Though every now and then despite my desperate attempts to forget, I see what looks like a shadowy figure in the corner of my eye…