Recently, I began experiencing something quite unnatural. Each morning (until around 10 a.m.) an entity bearing naught but two black holes for eyes appears in my window. If I didn't know any better, I would have said it was a cheap trick or one of those weird window stickers. But I lived down a dead-end road where my neighbors were all far too old for childish games like that.

I couldn't imagine Sandy next door nor Larry across the street would suddenly commit to scaring me every morning anyway.

And yet, there it was as if condensation had become conscious and was plastered face-first against the glass. If I covered the window, it would still be there and would stay until roughly 10 a.m.

To satisfy my curiosity (and to check some things off my list of possibilities) I took to asking my elderly neighbors if they had seen anything.

Sandy said, "Oh! You live next door?"

To which I said, "Yes, Sandy, I've been here for over ten years now." I wouldn't get anywhere with her.

Larry on the other hand had a rather disturbing response.

Upon knocking on his door, he opened it and a groan immediately escaped his lips. "You, huh? About time you introduced yourself." Larry had moved in only recently and I hadn't gotten around to welcoming him but I overheard someone, perhaps a caretaker, calling him by that name.

"Yes, well, I'm sorry for that, but I haven't come knocking to exchange pleasantries. I've come to ask a question, one that might seem… odd." I said.

"Question? Well, spit it out!"

"... Okay. Well, I was curious about whether you've seen someone standing outside my window."

"Window? What window?"

"That one there." I pointed to the side of my house with the living room, "Maybe you've seen a kid or someone else traipsing down the road wearing a mask?"

"A mask?" He was almost as bad as Sandy.

"Yes, the person in the window must be wearing a mask because their face doesn't look human."

"Are you trying to fuck with me?" he asked in a cantankerous tone.

"No, no! Not at all, I'm being completely honest." I said, trying to remedy his skepticism.

"Hmm… Well, if you're not fucking with me, then I suppose there's no harm in telling you…” He sighed and continued, “Yeah, I do recall seeing someone near your window a couple of days ago."

"Really?! W-What were they doing?"

Larry closed his door a crack, as if he was poised to slam it in my face. "Well, they were standing, of course! What the fuck else would someone do in front of a window?"

"No, I mean, was there anything they seemed to want? Did you see what they were wearing?"

He scoffed, "What they wanted? No, I've got no idea. I only watched them until they walked away and that's that. As far as what they were wearing…"

"Yes?"

"I actually can't remember. Maybe one of those skin-suits you young people wear during halloween."

Skin-suits? I thought to myself.

"Was there anything else you can remember?"

"No, now leave. I've got an appointment to get to!" So much for friendly introductions.

"Thanks for your help." I said, swiftly leaving before he could shut me out.

The interaction really didn't get me anywhere other than a longer list of questions without proper answers. So I went back home, but before going inside, I checked the grass outside of my window and (to no surprise) there was a matted down spot right at the foot of it, though not much else.

I went inside and started doing some research, but found literally NOTHING about what was happening. After the third day, I called the police. They gave me a typical police response, telling me that it sounded like a joke and therefore wouldn't entertain the notion, go figure.

That following morning, I set my alarm for an earlier hour, let's say 5 a.m. and crept out into the living room. Sure enough, as expected, there it stood watching me through the window. No fog was being produced on the glass. Was it even breathing?

This time, I wasn't going to just stand idly by. I raced to the window and pounded against it; no reaction. I yelled through the glass, "Hey, fucker! Enough is enough, get off my property!" But again, nothing.

The sudden jolt of courage waned quickly and I became too afraid to do anything else after that. So I waited until around 9:30 a.m. before I couldn’t take it any longer. I summoned all the strength I had left (though I was actually terrified) and went outside. It didn't look at me, in fact, it didn't move at all. I approached it and pushed against its gray shoulder and nothing happened.

"Hey, can you hear me under that fucking mask? I told you to get the fuck off of my property! I'm sick of your games, go bother someone else with your bullshit!" It stayed staring through the window.

That's when I pushed it a little too hard.

I shoved my hand against its arm and suddenly (and strangely) it fell over, stiff as a board. My eyes darted to an on/off switch near the nape of its neck. An… animatronic? I wondered as I switched it off.

I ran inside and called the police again and told them that someone had been placing a Halloween decoration at the foot of my window every morning. They must have had my name on a list of "people not to entertain," because once again, they blew me off and I was pissed.

When I came back out, it was gone. To add even more confusion, the grass was covered in fresh dew, making it easy to notice the footprints on my lawn.

There was only one pair of footprints though.

So I did what any concerned neighbor would do, I went back over to Larry's.

But Larry wasn't home and so I went to Sandy's. I know what you're thinking, "Why would you go back to her house when she couldn't even remember who you were?" And while you're right, I really just needed to try again. You never know, those suffering from mental inhibition often have moments of lucidity.

However, as I approached her door, it was already ajar. It was easy to write off though because of her mental degeneration; even people with all of their faculties working up there forget to close the door, cupboards and at the worst of times, to turn the light off.

I called out, I didn't want to just enter unannounced, "Mrs. Stevens? It's Allen, your neighbor? Are you home?" I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and waited for a response, but none came.

What would you have done? Left and pretended everything was fine?

Yeah, I probably should have done that.

Instead, I slowly pushed the door open and immediately the repugnant scent of copper hit me like a fierce gale. Naturally, I assumed the worst. And naturally, I called out again, "Mrs… Stevens? Are… you in here?" Nothing, of course, because why would there be?

I reluctantly followed the odor, praying that nothing grotesque awaited me at its end.  

The smell led me to a back room down the hall. It had become a particularly warm day and Sandy must have forgotten to turn her air on; it felt like a hot box in her home and sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging them annoyingly.

I pushed the door open, "Mrs… Stevens?" I asked again, but as the door swung open the contents of the room were revealed to me.

True horror. An eviscerated torso, intestines and other viscera splattered the walls. Flies had already come to feast and the smell… oh, the smell, absolutely heinous. I wretched, there wasn't anything in my stomach to heave up though, so I turned and ran out of the house.

And as one does, I immediately called 911. But this time, they listened.

Five, count em' FIVE whole units showed up. Whoopee! I'm not trying to say that someone's death was on par with my watcher in the window, but why did it take a gruesome end to warrant a visit from the friendly neighborhood police?

An officer, I forget his name, asked me about what I saw. I explained that I saw nothing up until entering Sandy's home. He wanted to know why I was there and I told him the reason word for word.

I don't think he believed me, but I wasn't a suspect. So… that's good, I guess?

However, he did say something that struck me as odd. He said, “Keep away from your neighbors homes.” Anyone else think that’s odd?

Anyway, cut to two days later and my unwanted window watcher continued to visit. However, instead of being afraid, I was fucking angry. I mentioned my plight to a friend and you know what they said? "Allen dude, relax, it's getting near the holidays ya know? People can be crazy."

"It's fucking September." I said.

"Ever heard of early celebrators?" they asked.

"That's a bunch of bullshit." I said.

"Why'd you even call me then?"

"You know what? You're right." Then I hung up on them.

Am I an asshole? Maybe, but if my own friend wasn't going to at least offer even a modicum of concern, then I wasn't going to entertain their skepticism.

Nevertheless, on that second day the watcher did something different.

It tapped the window.

Not only that, but it left behind a bloody handprint that stained the glass terribly. And to further pour salt into that already festering wound, when I looked across the street, Larry's door was ajar.

Odd, I thought. Or was it?

As petrified as I was, my innate curiosity got the better of me. I walked across the street, my eyes darting all over the outside world. The first thing I noticed were the matted down footprints on his front lawn, they trailed from the road up to his living room window. Had they always been there?

When I approached his front door, I got a faint whiff of a putrid stench seeping through the crack. This time I wasn't going to go inside. Once is one thing, but stumbling upon TWO dead bodies? Two days apart? That's a bit too suspicious, even for negligent cops.

So I called them again and asked for a welfare check.

"What's the problem?" asked the dickhead operator on the other line.

"I'm worried about my neighbor." I said as calmly as could be.

"What about them? Weren’t you told not to bother them?"

"What? Listen, can you just send someone over here? I live next to Sandy Stevens, the woman who was found dead yesterday and I'm concerned that Larry across the street might be in danger."

They sighed, it must have been a bit too much work for them to lift a finger and press a couple of buttons, "Fine, an officer will be by shortly."

"Thanks." I said, and then they hung up. I'll never know what I did to piss them off so badly.

Anyway, I waited outside on my front step. When the officer finally arrived (two hours later) he came over to ME first. "You the one who called?" he asked, shining a flashlight in my face even though it was the middle of the day.

"Yeah, but I called about Larry, the man who lives across the street."

"What about him?"

"His door is ajar."

"That's it?" he asked; a slight chuckle forced its way through his lips.

"Well, I thought it was strange that it’s like that when Sandy's next door was the exact same way. And… it smells."

"Smells?"

"Yeah, man! It fucking smells over there, I got near the door and it reeks. Stop asking me questions and go check on him already!"

"Yeah, yeah. Calm down, it's protocol. I'll go check on him now." Then he turned around and spit on my lawn before crossing the street.

I watched intently as he approached the door and called out, "Ridgewood Police, is anyone inside? If so, make your presence known!" He peered between the crack of the door and brought his hand to his nose. Then he reached for his radio and said something I couldn't hear before slowly pushing the door open.

A chill ran up my spine.

The officer went inside and called out once more, "Ridgewood police! I'm coming in if no one responds to the sound of my voice!"

About thirty seconds later he comes rushing outside, nearly projectile vomiting all over Larry's lawn. He reached for his radio again and said more incoherent things before hopping into his cruiser and waiting.

There were a lot of police, and other emergency services on my road that day; they asked me many questions of which I had little answers. And every time I mentioned the watcher in the window, they mentally checked out. To them, there must have been NO correlation. But a man and a woman were dead and they had nothing to go on.

A few more teeth-clenching days passed before I realized I hadn't left home for more than a week. Mainly because I had been too afraid. Regardless, I decided to take a trip into town. It was about noon, which meant the watcher was absent and I could leave without that worry.

Larry's home was crossed over with caution tape, as was Sandy's, and the house next to hers, and the house next to theirs and the one across the street from that one, and…

Almost every home on my road was covered in that bright yellow tape and not ONE officer or paramedic mentioned it to me.

But then I realized something far worse. 

The first house on the right (near the start of the road) was untouched; there was no caution tape anywhere near it.

And the reason why? The watcher was standing in their front yard, NOT facing the window, but facing the road and I nearly wrecked when I caught it following my car with its head as I passed by.

Were the owners of that home the watcher's next victim? I couldn't be sure, so I pulled over further down the road and made one last phone call to the police and asked about the home.

In my mind, I thought they would give me the run-of-the-mill answer of, "none of your business," but instead they told me that the owners of the home had been found dead more than a week prior and that the tape had likely "blew away," in the wind.

They also said something quite strange about how, “I should return to my home.” Which was fucking weird. Then it hit me all at once as if the dome light above my head was one of those lightbulbs that represents a sudden idea. 

The watcher was systematically slaughtering every person, pet and family one by one on my dead-end road.

No, it was worse than that because as I looked around sitting there in my car on the side of the road, I realized that it WASN'T just my road.

It was everywhere. Every single home was covered in caution tape. And when I say that the call to the police was my last, what I really meant was that when I tried to call again, no one answered.

And yesterday, I came to the most terrifying realization imaginable.

My house was the last one on my road.

When I woke up this morning I checked my window to find that the watcher wasn't there and at first, I was elated but only until I caught movement out by the road.

Was it the watcher? That thing that had been haunting my life?

No. It was Sandy, shambling up the road with naught but two black eyes set in her face. Her features were unmistakable in the sense that if she was facing away from me, I would have been fooled.

I continued to watch, completely transfixed by her or… its movements. Wishful thinking had me hoping it would approach my window, and it looked like that was the case, but then it veered away from my lawn and sauntered up the driveway.

I ran down into my basement, locking the door at the top.

A nerve-rattling hum started emanating through the walls along with something I could only describe as gurgling; it was hard to imagine both being possible at the same time.

Tapping came from one of the two smaller windows letting light from the outside world into my cellar. I looked to see Larry, his face with naught but two black eyes pressed against the glass. Then tapping came from the other window, and there was Sandy. Both were smiling.

My doors were locked; they were always locked. So why then, as I’m writing this, did I just hear the clicking sound indicative of one being opened?

Whatever you do, DON’T come to Ridgewood! They’re here, and they're watching!

Help…