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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Aggravating_Road2692 on 2024-10-08 00:56:39+00:00.

Yes, my landlord is a creep. This much is obvious, but that doesn’t mean I’m not above using his lustful impulses to my advantage. It’s been a few months since my arrangement with him started and it has been going splendidly; my bank account’s been getting chubby. But everything went downhill.  

Before I get ahead of myself, I should explain how our little agreement came about.  

I live in an apartment complex with dozens of other residents. The complex’s landlord lives just a few doors down from my apartment, so you can imagine how often I walk by every day. Anytime I walked by his apartment windows, Jerred, the landlord, would always walk up to the glass and eye me up and down, head to toe, but his eyes always seemed to linger when he got to my shoes. Frankly, it was creepy as hell, and I was growing sick of it. I was honestly ready to move out. But as I was coming home from the gym one day, the apartment doors swung open. In the frame stood Jerred, visibly salivating, his eyes clearly fixed on my sneakers. I gripped the little bottle of mace on my key chain, ready to spray his face if he tried anything.  

He suddenly darted to his pocket, I flinched and pointed the mace in his direction. Luckily for him, I stopped when I heard the sound of Benjamen’s crinkling in his hands.  

“Wowowo!” He announced. Showing me the money in his hand while his other palm faced me. He would look at my eyes and then return his gaze to my feet. Slowly bending over he places three-hundred-dollar bills on the ground between us, stepping back and giving me space as if I was some sort of caged animal. When he was far enough away, he pointed back at my feet.  

“I’ll trade you for those.” He said while slurping back his drool.  

“Um-- M-My shoes,” I questioned, confused.  

“No, your socks.” His eyes widened when he spoke the word ‘socks’. I felt this overwhelming feeling of disgust wash over me.  

“Eww, the fuck. no,” I responded with sassy conviction. Just as I turned to walk away, he made a counteroffer. 

"Wait, I’ll make it worth your while.’  He reached into his back pocket and pulled two more crisp one-hundred-dollar bills from his person. Five hundred dollars for a pair of dirty worn gym socks? I’d heard that some guys fetishized woman’s feet but damn, I never imagined that my nasty gnarled feet could garner this much compensation. 

While I was intrigued, I would be betraying my personal morals if I handed my socks over for him to do who knows what with them. He must’ve noticed my pensive expression because he continued to sweeten the deal further.  

“Tell you what, I’ll cover your rent every month if you just leave your worn socks on my door every time you walk by.” His eyes did not waver, this man was dead serious. My jaw dropped at his offer and a smile inched across his face as he realized he had me. Before anyone judges me, my rent is fifteen hundred dollars. As a broke college student, this man was offering something I couldn’t refuse.  

I bent down to unlace my sneakers, and I swear, I could hear his heart pounding out of his chest. Or was it mine? I’m not quite sure, I’d never done anything like this, so you could imagine the conflicting emotions I was feeling. I pulled my sweaty socks off my feet, and a twinkle formed in his eyes as my toes met the open air. His lust-filled stare caused me to scrunch my toes away, pressing my toenails against the hot mid-day concrete. I tossed my moist balled-up socks into his hands. He picked up the money and handed it over to me. I was slightly confused, he said he’d cover my rent but was also handing me the five hundred dollars? My face must’ve screamed confusion because he clarified.  

“Think of this as a tip.” I was shocked. When I didn’t take the money, he laid it back on the ground and slowly stepped back into the apartment door, shutting it closed. I hesitantly picked the cash off the ground. I was a few hundred dollars richer and free of the burden of my rent payment. This, however, did not free me from the mild guilt I felt. 

As the weeks drew on, I stayed true to our agreement. Every time I would walk by the office, I would stop to take my socks off, placing them at the foot of the office door. Jarred also abided by our agreement. In fact, he went above and beyond. Anytime I would lay sweaty gym socks at his door, I would end up finding an envelope wedged into the crack of my door, usually with some creepy message saying something like ‘Keep them coming.’ But behind his notes would always be a large tip. I don’t care who you are, if someone is throwing money at you for something so idiotic you’re going to do it.  

One day, I decided to wear a pair of flip-flops on a quick run to the grocery store, the first time since our agreement started that I did not wear socks. When I returned from my little escapade, I had nothing to lay at the door. I didn’t think it would matter much, I’d already given Jerred a few dozen pairs of socks, but I was wrong. When I didn’t stop at Jarred’s door, he rushed out in what I thought was fury.  

“What are you doing?! Where are the socks!” His outburst made me cower inside my hoodie, but as I looked into his eyes, I could see they were giving off fear rather than anger.  

“I-- I don’t wear, socks with flip-flops,” I said in a shaky tone. Jarred gripped two handfuls of his hair and produced a very guttural scream of frustration through his throat. 

“You don’t know what you’ve done! I–I’m going to have to pay for this.” From behind him wafted out the pungent reek of body odor, I surmised it was the weeks of dirty socks lying around the apartment, but as I glanced over Jarred’s shoulder I noticed a figure resting atop his couch, dressed in quilt-like garments. As my eyes adjusted, the figure started to become clearer. It was not an actual person, but a life-sized doll, stitched from the many socks I’d given him over the weeks. It was facing a little TV, and I could tell Jarred had just been snuggled up to the doll, because the couch cushion next to the doll had the distinct impression of Jarred’s backside. My ears began to ring at the creepy sight. 

Jarraed noted my gaze and moved to dispel any misconceptions about the situation.  

“It’s not what it looks like.” He said showing me his clean palms. When my gaze didn’t break connection with the doll, he tried breaking it with his body, stepping in front of my line of sight. The doll briefly disappeared behind Jarred’s frame, but as I craned to see the doll, it moved.  

The doll’s head slowly pivoted away from the TV and looked towards the door. A woman’s monotone voice came in the direction of the faceless figure. 

“Honey, did she bring some more?” My senses were overloaded. I instantly went into flight mode and darted off towards my apartment. As I ran away, I heard Jarred pleading for mercy.  

“NO! Please honey, I’ll-- I’ll make it up to you.” He begged. But as the door creaked closed, I heard several loud bangs and Jarred’s anguished screams.  

For the next week, I was too scared to walk by Jarred’s door. I opted to take the long way around to the parking lot whenever I needed to go somewhere. But as much as I tried avoiding Jarred, I had this strange feeling that he was watching me, a suspicion quickly confirmed when I ran some trash to the dumpster. As I tossed the garbage bags in the container, I had a feeling that someone was staring at me from around the far end of the apartment’s walls. I don’t know what got into me but as I walked around the opposite end of the apartment’s size I pressed my body against the masonry, waiting for whoever was spying on me to step out into the open, as if I already didn’t know.  

Jarraed scurried out of the shadows and made his way over to the dumpster. He didn’t hesitate to jump in, tossing out the garbage bags I had just disposed of. When they rested on the pavement, he ripped them open, presumably looking for old socks. I, however, knew that he wouldn’t find any. He already had all of my old worn-out socks; I won’t be tossing out any old pair for some time. But as Jarred pulled out the contents of my bathroom’s disposables, I saw his eyes gleam with excitement, he had found my toenail clippings. My skin crawled when he pressed them against his face, caressing them as if they were a Godsend.  

I couldn’t hold back my gasp, and he cocked his head in my direction. When his face met mine, I saw his left eye was swollen and bruised. Now I knew what punishment had befallen him when I had no socks to give him a week prior.  His eyes widened with surprise, and I made a run for it.  

“Wait! Stop! You don’t understand, if I don’t get her your socks, she’s-- she’s going to kill us both!” I paid no mind to his begging. When I reached my apartment, I slammed the door shut. Jarred, grunted in frustration from outside my window when he finally caught up. Through the muffled tone of the door, his voice slithered into my place.  

“If we don’t give her what she wants, she’ll come for you next. It may already be too late for me. Just give her what she wants.” His voice signaled genuine doom. He started walking away, his steps echoing in my head. I’ve been cowering in my apartment since yesterday, I’ve packed a bag and was ready to make my escape early this morning, but when I opened the door and looked down the corridor towards Jarred’s door, a familiar quilted stare met my face. I barricaded myself in my apartment. 

I am pretty sure Jarred is dead, and if I don’t give this thing what it wants, I think I’m next.