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I can't get it out of my head.
I recently moved to a nice house. It was far from the rest of the houses, secluded if you will, and right in front of a cove. "I really have gotten myself a nice house" I thought.
An ironic statement, looking back. I went in, the place was neat. I had guessed they cleaned it for me, because when I checked out the house it was pretty dirty. I had to clean I guessed. I guessed they did the job for me. I thought "such nice people".
I unloaded everything and set in. I didn't have much stuff, I had guessed I would just buy the rest.
I watched a few movies, called a few friends and let them know how everything went, and I was set to sleep, ready to see the light shine through my window and into my face, to smell the breeze of the morning, to get ready to meet new people, but my thoughts were interrupted by a faint scratching coming from above my head.
"Damn it! The house is rodent infested" I said, frowning. I stood up and started poking the ceiling curiously. I didn't find it to be weak, it was pretty firm in fact, I could've kicked it and it would've held.
I went back to bed. I would call somebody to come check the house tomorrow, in case it was infested... As soon as I sat down, the scratching sound came back.
This time it was a little louder, like it was a pretty big rat. It really pissed me off, I couldn't go to sleep because of it. Somehow, that scratching sound made me anxious. I started banging on the ceiling in hope of scaring away whatever was making the sound. To my surprise, something from the other side started banging on the ceiling as well.
I got really scared, and fell down to the floor. I looked up, I was scared that someone or something may be living up there, after all, the house was unoccupied for a pretty long time. I couldn't sleep anymore, not with something big enough to bang on my ceiling up there. I had a gun, a .33 caliber. It was in my dresser, in case of any break-ins. It was ironic because here, I was the intruder.
I made my way to the attic stairs and lowered them. It took all of my courage, but I finally climbed up. It was dark, but luckily I had a flash-light. I illuminated the entire attic, searched the perimeter, and found nothing. I was still scared, uneasy, as if I could feel someone was there.
When I was making my way down the stairs, I felt eyes watching me, like they were burning little holes on my back from how concentrated they were on me. I turned around and I found a doll, sitting there, in the nothingness of the attic. It was plain brown, it had little strings sticking out of its head which I had guessed was it's hair, and two bubbly eyes, staring at me, like it was alive. Curiosity made me go over there and check it out.
I lifted it up. It was pretty heavy, maybe 40 pounds or so, like it had something inside of it. I didn't really pay much attention to it and made my way back to my room, still feeling uneasy.
A thought came over me "What if that doll was causing everything?" I chuckled and thought I sounded like an idiot. I closed my eyes but then I heard banging on the ceiling and the stairs hit the floor like something had thrown them. I heard footsteps running to the restroom, I literally almost shat myself.
I panicked, I could not move. I took all my courage and stood up, pressing the gun against my hand like I've never gripped before. I went to the restroom and I found a little piece of paper folded up, like it had something inside it. I picked it up and closed the door behind me.
I opened it, it had a bunch of nails and inside it was another piece of paper that read "stop". I felt like it was all a vivid dream, why in the hell would there be somebody that kept nails and eerie writings in my fucking house? I thought over and over, "This is not happening" but I just couldn't wake up.
I then saw two tiny shadows beneath the door, like somebody was standing outside. I yelled "Look son of a bitch, I have a gun, I will blow your head off, just step in here and you'll see!". Then I heard scratching outside of the door, and someone's faint voice whispering "Stop". My legs were shaking.
Then I heard the door being opened and I saw a man, with dirty clothes and a jagged knife on his hand. He looked up at me and I saw his face, the man had taken out all his teeth and replaced them with human nails, his eyes were like a bottomless pit, jet black, like he had no soul.
He had no expression in his face, he was like a mannequin. He walked slowly, limping towards me. I fired my gun at him, shot him right through the forehead. He fell down and began laughing, "It stopped, it stopp-"
Then he let out agonizing tears, his eyes looked human now. He looked relieved. I called the police and they inspected my house, they searched for any remaining pieces of evidence and eventually found the doll. They ripped it open; it had fresh velvet human organs inside. Insulation was also forced into the doll, which is why the smell went unnoticed. I felt empty after killing another human being, numb. I will never forget the look in his eyes before he passed.
I killed a man, and he looked relieved. The police concluded the investigation, and my house was left alone. After that night, I always felt uneasy, in fact, I had to sleep in motels from time to time just to be able to fall asleep. After a while, the anxiety seemed dumb, and so I came back to the house. That first night I heard something, something unpleasant. I heard scratching above me. The first idea that bolted into my brain was that the guy somehow survived and was back for revenge, but then I figured it out. The scratching was coming from the inside of my head.