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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/No-Original890 on 2024-09-06 10:51:33+00:00.

Hi everyone, not sure if this is the right sub as it came up when I searched about insomnia but I feel like I should tell this here because I don’t think anyone else would believe me if I posted it anywhere else.

Anyway, my posting this all started with my weird neighbour. He moved in next to me a couple of months ago and has mostly been a shut-in. I’ve only seen him a few times, and he creeps me out every time. The first time I ever met him was when he moved in- he looked relatively normal, albeit a little sweaty and dirty- and gave me this strange look as I walked up to greet him;

“Hi, welcome to (blank)! It’s really nice to meet you, I look forward to seeing you more!”

He turned around, smiling widely

“Have you heard of him?”

“Of who?”

He looked at me like I was speaking a different language, before bowing his head almost reverently and gasping the next words like a chant;

“Him. He who speaks the gruesome words in prayer, who gives dire sermons in the abhorrent. He shows us the way in the revolting and paints the horrific in unholy murals.”

He eyes twinkle with every word, body shaking with rising intensity as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close, whispering hoarsely into my ear

"He guides us in what is unnatural and teaches us to be his children. You’ll know him soon”

With this, he laughed huskily, shoulders shaking as he shuffled away into his house.

Ever since then, every night, I can hear him laughing and whispering through the walls. He thumps his hands against the walls and the floor and screams. I can hear someone else talking, it’s not as clear though- more like a deep murmur than the high-pitched warbling voice of my neighbour. I’ve tried to researched about whatever he was talking about when I met him but nothing has ever came up. In all of my searching, only one result had ever came up- writings and reports from someone called Detective W. I’ve skim read it, but one passage really stood out to me. It was someone else who W reported on someone who also obsessed over 'he who shows us in the way in the revolting’ Whatever that meant.

‘She kept chanting- over and over- about him. She has devolved into being locked into her room, stamping the floor, shouting about how he will ‘save her’. She has made a large dent into the walls of her room where she repeatedly smashes her head, and when eventually she started bleeding, she would rub the blood into strange sigils on the ground and roll around in them, while crying hysterically, as we saw in the final inspection into the room before she shut herself in completely. My team and I did manage to break the door down, but we were far too late. Whatever I could attempt to depict about the scene that was presented to us as we entered the room would not manage to emphasise the gravity and horror of her condition. She was too far gone. There was no saving her now.’

It just stuck in my mind. My neighbour had started down that same path as this mystery person who was ‘too far gone after a while’? I know it wasn’t my place, but I started to spy on him. Just to be safe.

For weeks, I would watch him through my window and try to catch him when he was rarely outside of the house. He had become more of a shut-in than usual, only coming out to pick up food orders and to check the coast was clear. I reasoned with myself, that I was just concerned for my neighbour, and worried for his safety, but I knew deep down I just wanted to see whatever ‘too far gone’ was like.

There was one night last week where I saw my neighbour open his door like usual, to pick up his takeout order- but there was nothing to pick up? He didn’t appear at the door either, just quickly unlocked the door and then ran out, leaving it swaying gently in the breeze of the night. I tried to fight my rising curiosity, but I felt my legs move to creep to his front door before I could reason with myself any further.

Opening his door slowly, I called out my neighbour’s name- with no response.

The stench of rotting food hit my nose in a damp waft; his house was in seeming disrepair. Dark stains on the floor and walls, rotten food smothered into the carpet and piled up high on the counters, and dishes and other decorations smashed into the walls, gathering into piles in the floor. It looked like he had been robbed. I began to think that he wasn’t home, but then I heard a shuddered, faint sob from one of the rooms upstairs. Moving up the stairs quietly, careful to dodge the piled-up trash and mysterious damp stains, I came to the hallway lime-lit in crimson. Red light seemed to be streaming through a sliver in the door frame of the room the sob came from. All I could hear was hushed breathing and uncontrollable sobs from whoever was in the room, followed by silence. I had to look closer.

Through a sliver in the doorframe, I saw- bathed in a reddish glow, there kneeled my neighbour. He had a video playing on his laptop that could only be described as a deep warbling audio of someone speaking, followed by the occasional laugh and another deep voice of someone replying. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but my neighbour’s shoulders shook as he weeped along to whatever was being said. Then, there was a reprieve.

Whatever was playing on the laptop, stopped- only faint static could be heard. Finally looking up, my neighbour reached around behind him. He had tears still streaming down his face. A shaking, apprehensive sigh and a solemn look on his face, he sawed a finger off.

I could feel my pulse roaring in my ears. I was unable to tear my eyes away from what was unfolding in front of me. With the finger now gushing blood, my neighbour cried out. He jabbed his finger on to the floor and drew something; an ornate and jagged sigil that read the letter ‘H’

His body began to writhe and shake in a crumpled heap on the floor. The blood from the sigil smeared on the floor and over his clothes as he wailed and screamed. It looked like something was moving around underneath his skin. His arms and legs bent in unnatural angles, rolling over before somehow getting to his knees like before. He screamed and screamed, over and over, horrific wailing filling the room- before finally- it all stopped. His body stayed there, in that kneel, until his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened to an unnatural degree.

Red, viscous liquid flooded from his eyes, nose and down his chin as a loud, booming voice came out of him like a speaker.

"HE IS HERE. HE WILL ACCEPT YOU INTO HIS DIRE LIGHT ONCE YOU GIVE YOURSELF AS A VESSEL FOR HIM. FOR HE SHOWS THE WAY IN THE REVOLTING AND PAINTS THE HORRIFIC IN UNHOLY MURALS."

My neighbour clamped his mouth shut before his neck bent into an unnatural angle to face me, looking me directly in the eyes. His bones creaked and moaned as they bent his legs and arms. He went from kneeling to galloping unsteadily towards me in a split second, leaving me no time to react. He jumped towards me, screeching as he managed to grab one of my ankles in my mad dash away from him, as he dragged me into his room.

I got a good look at his face up close as he loomed over me. The red liquid from earlier had dried on his cheeks and his chin but still dripped from his eyes. His eyes had completely clouded over, with the ‘H’ sigil being seemingly burned into his forehead now. He grabbed my shoulders with shaking hands as he raised what was left of his finger to my forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to move, frozen in fear. He drew the sigil on my forehead before bowing his head to whisper in my ear.

“He’ll be with you soon.”

He then passed out suddenly, landing suddenly on the floor next to me.

I ran out of that house as fast as my legs would allow.

Luckily, none of my other neighbours saw me in that state- I don’t care what happens to my neighbour at this point. I didn’t even close the door behind me as I ran to my bathroom to scrub the sigil off of my forehead. I had five showers in a row since then, and I shower twice daily and scrub my face until it’s red.

It’s been a few weeks since then, and I’ve been having crazy dreams every night ever since. It starts off normal, then morphs into this face- it looks so uncanny- it has black eyes far too big for it’s face and a wide smile with a few too many teeth that stretches it’s face so far the skin tears. I don’t sleep much now, and I haven’t been going to work recently because of these dreams. I’ve started to research if other people see this face as much as I do, but nothing. I think I’m going crazy.

Whenever it’s quiet in my house now, I feel like I can hear someone or something walking around downstairs and creeping up the stairs. Every time I open my door and check, there’s nothing there and the noise stops for a few hours before starting up again. It’s probably the sleep deprivation, but I can’t function properly anymore. One night, I let the noise go further and further up the stairs, coming across the hall, before clicking open the lock to my door with ease. I rolled over as fast as I can and pretended to sleep. It knew I was awake.

It makes this faint, deep, warbling murmur from the back of its throat before breathing heavily for what seemed like hours.

I can feel it move closer to me, putting its large head close to mine, looming close enough that I can hear the squeak as it grinds its teeth. It stays there, staring a hole in the back of my head for hours as I can see the outline of its head from the shadow on my wall…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1fac6pa/my_neighbour_is_a_creep/