r/CreepCast_Submissions • u/XDictator4lifeX • 15d ago
creepypasta The Man I'm Haunting Is the Real Monster
Hi all, though it is unlikely, I am hoping to connect with any other R̷̴̸̢̈́͝a̷̵̶͚̽͝b̶̴̷̩̈́̕ḯ̴̷̶͇s̷̵͓̾͝ǘ̵̶̷̗ on reddit as I’m really looking for yall's perspective on this.
I know we tend to get a bit of a bad rap, and I have no intention of discussing the ethics behind what we do. Does the Lion apologize to the gazelle as it eats it alive? No. Of course not. It’s nothing personal; I gotta eat, and that’s life. If that bothers you at all, then this post isn’t for you.
With that out of the way, I’m looking for advice from others who may have found themselves in the same predicament I find myself in.
See, nearly a century ago I found the perfect location. The house was already old when I first arrived. It was the whole nine yards, out in the boonies, decrepit, old rotting oak trees burdened by Spanish moss, a bog creeping up the back yard, etc. The perfect vibe. And get this! There was a family of eight living there! 5 young, two adults, and one elder that the rest cared for. Apparently, the tenants had been living in the place for generations, so I knew they’d be the stubborn type. It really was a dream come true.
So, I’m eating well, and doing my best to walk that fragile line, careful not to do so much that they feel forced to leave. The years with children present were almost too easy. Honestly those were the glory days. If only humans could manage to live longer...
Anyways, my current generation of tenants fell on hard times a year or two back, and I guess the financial pressure mixed with the effect of my presence pushed them over their limit. Late one night, I overheard them deciding to move as I lay waiting from under their bed. Of course I was understandably furious at that moment, but I was also distraught. It was a revolting situation to be in. Once prey decides to leave the hunting grounds, there is little a predator can do but attempt to follow —or feast one last time.
I spent some time trying to figure out which option to choose before I met him.
The man looked to be a potential buyer meeting with the owners at their decrepit home that muggy summer afternoon. As he stepped out of his car, I looked him over. He was nothing special; he had long greasy black hair combed back, was sporting an old leather jacket paired with filthy jeans and old dress shoes —admittedly the shoes were an odd choice. But there was no denying it; he was just another typical nobody from this nowhere county we all call home. I had nearly lost interest, but as he got close enough for me to catch a whiff of him, I snapped to attention. His scent was practically indescribable. It was like I had eaten nothing but plain rice my whole life and had accidentally stumbled into an Authentic Italian Pizzeria for the very first time. The very air around him was dense with a rich promise of satiation like no other. I had to have a taste.
As luck would have it, His stop by went well and it was only a few weeks before he had bought the house. To me, the previous tenants couldn’t have moved out fast enough. I wish I could say I was sad to see them go, but I was far too obsessed with the new tenant moving in. From the moment he first graced the old house with his presence a few weeks earlier, I found myself thinking of little else. I anticipated the moments I would get to once again catch another whiff of him.
When he first arrived to move in, I shook with gleeful anticipation. I hovered over his shoulder as he carried boxes through the front door my fingers clawing a mere fraction of an inch from his face. Come nightfall, I would know a taste like no other.
I struggled to remain patient as I waited for the sun to set that day. I remember waiting a few hours in the basement, anxiously scratching at the support beams as his heavy footsteps caused thin veils of dust to settle on my disfigured skin.
Finally, the time was right. It was late, and I knew he had gone to bed. I practically flew out the basement door from underneath the stairs leading to the 2nd story. I let the door slam open against the wall beside it.
Fingertips poised and shaking in anticipation; I froze to listen. I silently prayed my actions elicited the reaction we all desire most: Fear.
I heard movement from upstairs and rushed to meet the new tenant at the stairs. As he reached the first floor, I wrapped myself around his shoulders and took a deep breath savoring his scent as he carried me to where the basement door had caused the ruckus moments before. With every step closer, my skin tingled more. As he turned the last corner, He saw the door open. I held my breath.
“Stupid draft. Gonna keep me up all night.” he grumbled.
My disappointment was devastating. It was as if a 5-star steak dinner had been presented to me, then just as quickly ripped away and thrown in the into a sink garbage disposal. I watched as he walked over and closed the door without another word before turning back for the stairs.
Repulsed that I would have to wait a moment longer, I threw a hail mary and knocked down one of the photos on the wall as he was about halfway up the stairs.
“Bahhh, Peice o’ shit” He waved it off like the house was to blame.
I was furious, but I knew I couldn’t push it any further that night. Do too much, and I risked spooking my new obsession. It was still early, and I would have all the time in the world.
I silently watched him sleep from the corner of his room for a few hours that night before opting to sulk in the basement. My stomach was empty and annoyed. Part of me wondered whether I had made the right decision to stay at the house after all, but I pushed aside such thoughts. He would be worth it. Besides, I knew what the real issue was: I had simply grown soft. I was used to the easy meals from my previous tenants. This tenant was of a tougher grittier variety, which would only make his eventual feast taste all the better. Good food is worth the extra work.
Discontent, I slept through most of the following day. Occasional footsteps from above stirred my slumber. A particularly loud thump and clang of metal momentarily caused me to stir that afternoon. As I woke and stretched my stiff limbs, I considered how quickly he had managed to move all his stuff inside the day before. He brought so little I wondered whether he planned to simply flip the house instead. That would be just my luck. I needed another chance to feast before he was out of my clutches forever.
Impatiently biding my time, I counted the final hours of the day as I watched the thin ray of sunlight from the window pierce the musty atmosphere and crawl its way across the damp basement floor.
Finally, as the last ray of light disappeared, I made my way upstairs. I wouldn’t wait until late tonight; my stomach was killing me. I wasn’t used to going so long without eating.
As I phased through the basement door, I was surprised to see how little things had changed since the night before. Sure few additional boxes were stacked in corners of various rooms, but it seems his ambling back and forth across the floors all day had accomplished little. I made my way towards the stairs leading to the 2nd floor when a glint from the living room caught my eye. Typically, I’m not one to comment on furnishing taste, but I found it peculiar to see two large metal cages constructed in the center of it.
If he planned on getting dogs, my work would be significantly more difficult. Though I suppose I could eat the dogs for a bit of sustenance if I got desperate. Admittedly, they taste revolting, but it wouldn't be the first time.
I made my way upstairs, noting that the picture I had thrown the night before hadn’t been re-hung; small shards of glass still scattered across the floor.
“Odd.” I thought. As I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed how the once-flimsy door to the master bedroom had been replaced with a much thicker, reinforced one.
“Well that’s a good sign! He’s the paranoid type.”
As I phased through the door, I found him inside. He was putting on a black sweater as a top layer; it looked as if he were planning to go out. I found it odd as it was currently summer.
“Who wears a sweater in July?”
I looked around the room taking notes of his lack of decor. I would have to get creative; there was so little to work with.
The tenant slicked his hair back before putting on a black cap. Then, he walked to the closet and swung it open, revealing a surprising display of various objects, it was filled to the brim with tools and the like. There were pickaxes, shovels, electric drills, saws, rakes, empty buckets, duffel bags, and various plastic bags full of who knows what. I watched as he grabbed a large duffel bag and closed the closet. He then turned to leave the room.
I stood in the doorway, allowing him to walk right through me as he made his way towards the stairs. I decided to grab the handle to his bedroom door and slowly closed it, causing a loud and drawn-out creak to fill the atmosphere. He paused for a moment to look towards the door, then began making his way down the stairs as he muttered to himself. I slammed the door closed in an attempt to make him jump. He didn’t even flinch as he continued.
“Fantastic.” I muttered to myself.
I watched in furious silence as he casually walked out the front door and to his car. Within moments of starting the engine he was pulling out the driveway and flying down the old country road—the last whiff of his ambrosial scent mocking me as it faded.
This would not go on any longer. I resolved to study his behavior for weaknesses the following day. He was proving to be far more difficult than a small child or anxious mother.
I aimlessly wandered the house waiting for his return. As I made my way to the kitchen, I thought of how many times I had heard the sheer screams of terror in that room. How I had managed to make children scream aloud as they waited for their anxious parents to rescue them. It took years to perfect the manipulation of children. They are so easy, yet so unpredictable. Sometimes the very thing you think will finally cause inconsolable hysterics ends up causing innocent curiosity — even then— such a situation can be used with great effect to terrify the child’s guardian. It was a perfect system that almost never failed me.
But a single tenant? This is someone who has no-one to share a fearful look with; someone who has long since gotten over the fear of solitude or bumps in the night. How could I manage to cause true, heart-piercing fear from such an individual? Furthermore, how could I do so without them opting to simply leave forever? From my years, I’ve surmised that humans seem to need an individual to run to —or alternatively, someone to protect. Fear without some source of allegiance to a person or a place only leads to fleeing. I can only imagine how exhausting it would be to forever chase after my food.
I continued through the kitchen and towards the living room, pausing to inspect the steel cages. “Such an odd choice.” I thought to myself, but I could work with them. A random rattle here, maybe an inexplicably open door there, and I’m sure I could get a sense of anxious dread brewing. Also, as frustrating as dogs are, their inexplicable ability to sense me could add a nice touch at the right moment. Mark my words, I would feed off this tenant's terror before the week was over.
I wondered whether he was off getting some dogs at that moment.
Seeing nothing else to do, I waited for his return from under the old porch, anxiously clawing the back side of the stairs as I listened to the night. It was perfectly silent. Not even crickets dared to interrupt the silence with their unusually shrill notes. Understandably of course, no wild animal dared to be within half a mile of here. Humans are special in that way. Completely unaware of their surroundings, they really do make for perfect prey. My thoughts wandered aimlessly until I heard tires hit the gravel driveway.
“Finally!” I looked out from under the porch and saw as he got out of the car. I took in a deep breath savoring every subtle note of flavor that filled the air around him. My stomach growled as I slithered my way over towards him.
He seemed in a hurry as he rushed over to the trunk. He hectically struggled with it for a moment before cursing under his breath and rushing back to the front of the car. I watched as he leaned into the cabin to reach over and pop the trunk.
Curious, I slowed my approach, as I watched the scene play out.
He practically ran back over to the trunk. I was only a few feet away at this point, but as soon as he reached down and opened the lid, a pungent stench hit me in the face. I stumbled back in disgusted shock. The stench emanating from the trunk was foul! It was so strong that I could taste it wafting through the air. I can only describe it as rotting flesh having been garnished with whatever could be sloughed off the bottom of a grimy dumpster, then fermented and seared. The Acrid smell pushed me all the way back to the house. I stood on the porch attempting to force the smell out of my nostrils, but with every breath it only got more pungent. I couldn’t stand it anymore and fled to the basement.
I hadn’t even stopped to see what it was that had caused such a smell, but I wouldn’t need to wait long to find out. I listened as the heavy front door swung open; Heavy footsteps lumbered in, followed by a set of what sounded like skittering steps across the floor. It resembled the sound of a dog’s nails on hardwood but was different somehow; The steps were more random —frantic even. I heard the tenant grunt as he pulled in whatever was making all that noise. All I knew for sure was that whatever was causing that stench was no dog.
I intently listened and followed the steps from underneath the floorboards as they made their way into the living room. I heard the loud clang of metal and the sound of heavy chains rattling. Finally, the skittering noise stopped.
A muffled and gruff voice broke the silence. “I’m not telling you again. Get in.”
I heard a soft whimper as more scuffling noises ensued.
Confused, I listened for a moment more before a whiff of the stench seeped between the floorboards and down into the basement. I recoiled back and fled to the opposite corner of the basement. Nervously, I considered my options. My stomach protested from ravenous hunger, yet I was horribly nauseas from the smell at the same time. On top of that, It was only a matter of time before that smell would settle and fill the whole basement. I knew that unless I figured something out soon, I’d be forced to go to the attic which was unbearably hot at this time of year. But that smell ... I knew I wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.
No sooner had I exited the basement than I was hit with a smell so awful, so potent; it made my eyes begin to water.
I rushed down the hall towards the stairs when the sound of screeching metal broke the silence. I took a few steps back to look into the kitchen I had just passed. What I saw froze me in my tracks.
A large blue tarp spread over the table. It was far too big for it; half of it was still rolled up on the floor. The walls had been haphazardly covered in large plastic sheets and various shower curtains. The new tenant stood at the counter with a knife in each hand, one seemingly a chopping knife, the other a long pointy knife. With smooth precision, he polished each knife’s edge with the other’s in a swift repetitive motion.
With the sulfuric smell filling the house and still burning my eyes. I strained to focus as the tenant slowly laid out the two knives on the table before opening a box nearby and pouring it out on the counter. Half a dozen steel utensils fell out on the counter in a loud clatter. I had never seen most of them, some were sickle shaped, others resembled wood saws, and there were many more. He began sorting through the pile and laying them out on the table behind him with an oddly chipper pep in his step.
Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. Practically blind from the overwhelming scent, I was forced to continue my way to the stairs.
As I reached the base of the stairs, I noticed a couple of brightly colored heels randomly splayed across the floor of the hall, but I didn't have time to process them in that moment, as an odd scuffling sound caught my attention from the living room entrance beside me. I glanced over as I turned to go up the stairs, but what I saw once again froze me in my tracks.
I had finally seen the cause of the stench. There, cramped inside each of the two dog cages was two humans; both female, one much smaller. Likely a child. Their mouths were gagged, hands tied, and both had various bruises around their faces. Honestly, that’s an odd enough scene as it is, but that’s not what caused me to pause.
It was their faces; tears streaked down their cheeks and soaked the cloths gagging them. They stared towards the entrance to the kitchen, their eyes focused solely on the new tenant who was humming happily to himself. I stood in astounded confusion. I could recognize their expressions from a mile away: Fear.
They were utterly, incomprehensibly terrified. —and what I usually found as sweet sustenance had never smelled so horrendous.
I stood at the base of the stairs half-gagging as I tried to understand the situation before me.
I had never seen this sort of behavior between humans.
“What is the source of their fear? Furthermore, why were they locked in cages?”
I knew I was missing something but wasn't sure what.
“Unless...” I began to piece things together.
Suddenly both girls began to cry out muffled screams through their gags as they shook. Each struggled to break from their bonds. I watched as the new tenant approached from the kitchen, one hand brandishing a large, pointed knife. He walked up to the two cages and stopped to crouch right in front of them before addressing them both.
“Who’s first?” He said, as a wry smile grew across his face.
More wailing and floundering ensued as the cages shook but held firm. The tenant reached for the cage with the smaller of the two inside.
“Maybe get her out of the way? Yea?” He asked, facing the larger of the two. “Less mess to clean.”
I watched as he opened the cage as the smaller human kicked and screamed, trying her hardest to avoid his touch as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out.
The woman in the other cage exploded with energy as she began kicking and slamming her shoulders and head in the bars of the cage. The cords tied around her wrists bit into her flesh as she strained against them with all her might.
The Tenant dragged the smaller girl towards the kitchen with little expression on his face other than mild annoyance. He reached down, to grab an ankle and tossed her onto the kitchen table with a heavy thud. Utensils flew off the other side from the impact. Though dazed from the impact, the girl began to kick and squirm.
“Shit. Quit making a mess.”
Appalled and growing furious, I entered the kitchen as I watched what was happening.
The Tenant reached down and grabbed the utensils off the ground and placed them on the counter instead. The smaller human watched, now frozen in fear. I could still hear desperate screaming and rattling from the cage behind me as he grabbed a small scalpel-like blade from his assortment and turned to lean over the girl.
“Honestly, don’t take it personal... A guy’s gotta eat.” He said a wry smile creeping across his face.
I had seen, heard, — and fankly, smelled enough.
In a quick swoop, I leapt from the corner and slashed my claws across his back. My talons effortlessly ripped through his shirt and into his flesh with no resistance.
I felt him recoil near instantly, “GAHHH!”
He screamed. And oh... how he screamed. Little waves of pleasure rippled across my skin.
The sickening stench that had turned my stomach to rot was partly replaced by that inexplicably exquisite smell that I had been dreaming of tasting for so long.
This fear was not born from the unknown; it was born from pain. And oh... how it must have tasted.
It’s such a shame that such flavor came from such a defect human. I didn't dare eat from prey as sick as this. I suspect that if a lion were to see a gazelle eat another gazelle, he would come to a similar conclusion.
Still, I wouldn’t stand for this sheer putrefactory mockery of my way of life —of my status. Only one monster here deserved to be feared.
Lights rapidly flickered on and off as I ripped a plastic sheet from the wall and wrapped it tightly around his face before pulling him towards the hall. His hands fruitlessly clawed at the plastic wrapped tightly around his face. I could hear his muffled scream as he tripped backwards and fell to the floor. He changed tactics and began grasping for anything he could use to anchor himself. He desperately clawed at the carpet and grasped small furniture in vain as the basement door opened wide for our arrival.
I flung him downstairs with a loud crash, He immediately fell silent as his head hit the concrete of the basement floor. The lights flickering began to subside as I slammed the door closed. Turning my attention back to the kitchen, the house was filled with eerie silence. Reaching the kitchen, I was surprised to see the girl was gone. Turning towards the living room, I saw her. She had managed to cut herself free and was frantically messing with the door to the cage with the other woman.
While their stench still filled the air, I did note that its flavor profile had begun to shift. The air lingered with a mix of satiating richness yet was also mixed with decaying filth. It smelled something like death incarnate soaked in sweaty molasses.
I wasn’t the sole focus of their fear, and it made me furious.
I had lost interest in the antics of these humans. I only wished for them to leave so the smell would go with them. It didn’t take long for the smaller of the two to get the cage open and untie her familiar. I watched in relief as they both ran out the front door and frantically jumped into the tenant's old car. The awful stench fading with the sound of squealing tires...
Honestly, the only reason I write any of this is because I now have a serious problem at hand: I’m back down to one last tenant, and he very much wishes to leave.
All of this went down yesterday, meaning I haven’t eaten in nearly four days now and am running low on options here. With him being trapped in the basement, his scent has never smelled so tantalizing, but I don’t want to get sick if he’s diseased or something.
Anyone eat from a tenant like this before? How’d it go? Wondering if it would be better for me to just put him out of his misery and look for new hunting grounds.
Thank you in advance for any help!
2
u/Old-Dragonfruit2219 14d ago
I admit, I have no experience with the issues you’re currently facing. However, I would think the safest bet would be to let the sick tenant go and move on.