“You’re going to move to Nevada?” My friend John asked me. He asked me a million times over a month if I was sure about moving. Each time he asked me I gave him the same answer, but he was very persistent.

I had found a house that was selling for dirt cheap. Three floors and an attic? How could I pass that up? John knew I needed a change of pace away. Saying goodbye to my friends and what remained of my family was hard. However, the excitement of starting my new job outweighed any doubt I was having.

I should’ve stayed home.

​

Week One

When I arrived at the house the first thing I did was walk around and see if anything needed to be replaced. I am not rich by any means but I made sure to set some money aside in case of repairs.

The mailbox was first on my list, it was dented all over. The outside of the house was in good condition, my plan was to power wash it: That was until I decided I did not want to be outside for a prolonged time.

The inside of the house looked freshly furnished. A beautiful mural wrapped around the living room. The mural consisted of mostly animals, nothing crazy. Although I liked it I figured I would cover it up.

After checking each of the floors I decided I was happy with the place. Who is going to complain about buying a fully furnished house?

My closest neighbor was about twenty minutes away and since I didn't feel like driving to introduce myself. I will be honest with all of you, moving all my belongings into the house by myself was a bitch. After getting everything into the house I did not want to bother trying to unpack and set up, so I went to bed.

That was one of the strangest nights of my life. My bed was extremely warm, even after kicking my blankets off. When I woke up it was like my bed was a sauna. The strangest part was the indent left on the sheets next to me.

For the rest of the week, nothing happened. I was able to move all of my items into the house, throw some older furniture away, and get as organized as possible.

It wasn't until that Friday that I found something disturbing in the house. I won’t dive into too much detail but I found a notebook inside a leftover nightstand. I still haven't gotten time to go through it all, but whoever was writing it was clearly in a bad mental space.

Present Day: Two Weeks Later

The first week was weird but nothing scary happened. The notebook was freaky so I put it aside. I don’t know why but I could not bring myself to throw it away. My bed was warm every night during that first week: But not a comforting warmth either. It was sweaty. A couple of times I checked the ceiling to make sure nothing was dripping on me in my sleep.

As the days went on I often woke up sweaty. For a couple of days in a row, I woke up drenched. It wasn't until yesterday that I felt what was making me so warm. I am not sure of the exact timeframe but I woke up to something…moist on my neck. It felt like someone was dragging a tongue behind my ears. I could feel the hairs on my body stand up, and I could smell its breath.

It was like I was paralyzed with fear. When I felt what I assume to be a hand slide down my stomach, my body tensed. I could hear what I thought was a person breathing into my ear. It must have known I was awake.

I jolted up from bed and spun around as quickly as possible. What was licking me was not a human. It was a flesh creature: A creature covered in pink, throbbing, sticky, “skin.” It had a mouth, the edges reached up to what I assume were its cheekbones. It did not have eyes.

I screamed as loud as my body would let me. I ran downstairs but something was compelling me to grab that damn notebook, and of course my cell phone. I took both from the kitchen and ripped the front door open. The creature wasn't chasing me though, it didn't even come downstairs.

I ran to my car and haven't been back to my house since. I have no idea what that creature was and I have not told the police. But I am telling all of you. I feel like I am going crazy. I’m going to call the man who sold me the house and see if I can get my money back or something.