I think my neighbors AREN'T HUMAN

When’s the last time you looked at someone? I  mean, really looked at someone? Maybe you’ll meet someone with one eye that droops  slightly, or with an ear that looks a little off. But that’s normal right? But  what if you look closer and you find teeth that are too sharp and eyes with no pupils. Or  a face that looks more like a halloween mask. I lost my job recently and I decided to start  renting out parts of my house. There was enough room upstairs for at least a couple of college  kids. The

re was a basement big enough for a few more. It was just this large one-room space  that basically covered the entire underside of the building, supported by these thick concrete  beams. But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. As long as I was honest about what to expect. So I put out an ad on a couple of socials. I included a few pictures and hoped  for the best. The price was cheap too. Cheaper than it should be, I guess. It was early October when I had a knock at the door. I rushed to open it.

I was still  browsing job openings on my phone and chewing on some cold pizza from last night. It’s hard to  explain how surprised I was to see what I saw. Now most other applicants had been either young  guys or college girls. What was now standing in front of me was a family of four. A mother and  father, both in their mid-40’s, and two young boys. The mom had this autumn-colored cotton dress  with a little ribbon. The dad had this fancy black overcoat, a white shirt, and a red tie. Both  kid

s were dressed up in identical blue shirts. The dad stepped forward, offering  me a handshake. I accepted. “Hi there,” he said with a warm smile.  “We’re the Walters. We’re here about the ad.” “Oh, uh… hello,” I answered. “It might get a  bit crowded, but you’re free to have a look. Sorry about the, uh” I gestured to myself, but the dad just shook his head. “Not at all. Hope we’re not imposing.” he said. I invited them inside, and they went right  past the stairs. I figured they just missed it.

“Excuse me,” I said. “It’s right  up here.” I pointed at the stairs. “Oh, we know,” smiled the mom.  “We’re here about the basement.” So there’s this long wooden staircase that  spirals into the basement. It’s one of the main reasons I don’t like going down there or  furnishing the place. That spiral makes it almost impossible to bring down any proper furniture.  It’s infuriating. But all four members of this picture-perfect family stepped down, all composed.  They were courteous and respectful,

with just the polite amount of excitement. But I got the sense  that there was something just… off, about them. The dad brought out some measuring tape and  started checking the walls. They asked me about the lack of windows, the air quality, their  ability to bring down some furniture and put up some light fixtures. I agreed to all of it.  I still couldn’t believe they were actually considering it. This was clearly not a space  meant for a family of four. And they gave the impression that they

were pretty well-off. There  was no reason for them to rent a space like this. Still, as they finished their  questions, the mother approached me. “Would you mind stepping upstairs and just  walking around a bit?” she asked. “We’d like to see how much sound carries through.” A strange way to ask for soundproofing, but I did as she asked. I got up the stairs,  put on my heaviest boots, and just wandered around for a bit. After a couple of minutes, I  turned the corner only to see all four of the

m standing in the hallway. Picture perfect as  always. All with a big smile on their faces. “We’re very pleased,” the  mother said. “We’ll take it.” They signed a 6-month rent agreement, and I got  to know them a little better over the next few weeks as they sporadically dropped by. There was  Leila, the mother. Anders, the father. The kids were Aiden, and Alvin. Apparently, they were  in-between housing and wanted something small and cheap in the meantime. Despite all that,  I couldn’t shake th

e feeling that a basement was a strange choice for them. Still, I needed  the money, and they were eager to get it done. They even offered to pay a little extra since they  were bringing in more people than I’d anticipated. About a week later, they showed up for the  official move-in. Leila and Anders insisted on bringing everything in themselves. That I  shouldn’t be bothered with any heavy lifting. Apparently, just letting them stay there was  favor enough. They brought in about a dozen pieces

of furniture covered in blue tarp along  with a ton of cardboard boxes. None of them marked. They also put down several hand-woven  carpets. The kind you’d see in a large mansion. Leila was a stay-at-home mom, while Anders  worked as some kind of security manager for a nearby airport. He worked odd hours.  Anything from 12-hour shifts to all-nighters, and everything in-between. He was also on-call  for most hours of the day. Sometimes he even had to leave with short notice. It was strange  thou

gh. One might think a person like that would need someplace with good cell coverage. But that  basement barely had a single bar. There was wifi, but it was spotty at best. For some reason, none of this seemed to bother them. That first week living with the Walters wasn’t a problem. Most of the time I forgot  they were even there. I only saw them leave the basement a handful of times. And they didn’t  make any noise. At most I could hear them stomping up or down that creaky old staircase, but tha

t  was mostly Anders heading to work. In fact, I never saw Aiden and Alvin leave for school.  I figured they were being homeschooled. Still, they were hardly an issue. I was still  working hard on finding someone to rent the upstairs, but I was having no luck. I’d considered  lowering the price, but after the Walters moved in money was becoming less of an issue. Anders  even suggested that I apply for a job at the airport. He knew one of the HR people looking  for hires. Having been jobless for

5 months, I was willing to try pretty much anything. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t telling me the whole story.  I kept coming back to one thought. What the hell they were even doing down there? Once, I decided to get a better look at what they’d done with the place. At that point, I  hadn’t even seen how they’d decorated it. It was in the middle of the afternoon, and I had  no idea whether they were even down there or not. Their car was gone from the driveway.  I knocked

a couple of times. And when there was no response, I used my key to get down. As I turned the corner, it was deathly quiet and completely dark. I turned on the lights. They all slept in these basic single beds, all spaced out along the easternmost wall.  They had a small loveseat couch. A couple of basic plastic chairs faced a thick old TV  against the wall. There was an empty bookshelf, and a couple of scattered carpets along the  floor. I could see a few opened boxes. There was a bathroom next

to the staircase, but it  looked unused. No toothbrushes or anything. It took me a few moments to  realize that I wasn’t alone. The entire family was standing in a line along  the southernmost wall, furthest away from the staircase. They were standing in order of size  from tallest to smallest, remaining perfectly still. Just looking at me. It wasn’t until they  noticed me looking them that they reacted. They all looked up at me, putting on a friendly smile. “Can we help you?” asked Leila. “I h

ope we didn’t make too  much noise,” continued Anders. The kids just nodded, in unison.  I took a good look at them, but I couldn’t figure out what I was looking  at. I had no explanation for their behavior. “Sorry, uh… I was just gonna check the  water pressure,” I lied. “I tried knocking.” “That’s alright,” smiled Anders. “Go right ahead.” Walking back up the stairs, a thought hit me. If they were all down there, why was their car gone? Who’d taken it? I had a number of strange interactions wi

th  them over the next couple of weeks. For example, I once found Aiden, the younger of the two  brothers, standing in the kitchen. He wasn’t doing anything in particular. Just standing there,  staring at the spice rack. When I asked him about it, he just said he wasn’t doing anything.  After a while, he turned on his heel and ran back downstairs. I didn’t see it, but I heard his  little feet thump all the way down the staircase. Another time, I saw Leila standing in the open  doorway, leading t

o the basement. She was just standing there, hand on the doorknob,  looking right at me. I said ‘hello’, and she said it right back. But she wouldn’t let  me out of her sight. When I finally passed from her view, I could hear her running back  downstairs. Not just hurrying – running. Another time, I saw Anders in the car out on the  driveway. I saw him from the upstairs window. He was just sitting there, hands on the steering  wheel. He was there for a good fifteen minutes. No radio or nothing,

just him alone in his car. But the strangest interaction came one night when I was going to the kitchen to get a soda.  I spotted Leila standing in the kitchen. The fridge was wide open. I could see her silhouette  illuminated by the fridge bulb. Her long black hair was wet from a fresh shower. She was in a  hastily tied bathrobe and her feet were bare. At first I didn’t see anything strange. She  was just standing there. She wasn’t getting anything. It was more like she was bathing  in the ligh

t. I thought about calling out to her. But something about her made me want  to sneak back into my bedroom. Then I saw it. There was something wrong with her ear. Her left ear was about three inches higher up than her right one. Her scalp seemed  lightly tilted. And there was something about the way she moved her fingers that didn’t  look… natural. They pointed in different directions. Like her hand was fractured. I just stayed there for a while, looking at her from a distance. I watched  her sh

oulders rise and fall as she took deep breaths. Like she was inhaling the cold. When she turned my way, I only saw her for a moment. Her torso moved first, before her legs  followed. Like a stilted Claymation puppet. I managed to slip around the corner  and I heard her rush back towards the basement. Her feet tapped against the  hallway carpet in an uneven rhythm. When she got to the door, she stopped. I was  leaning against the wall, listening from the other room. I heard her step around for a 

bit. Then I heard a snap. It sounded like a popping limb. Something finding its way  back into a socket. Her steps then became more even as she hurried downstairs. I just stayed there for a while, trying to keep calm. For all intents and  purposes, I might’ve just been seeing her in a weird light. It was dark, and I was sleepy.  And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something unnatural about her. That  I’d seen something I wasn’t supposed to. From that day forward, I got more sus

picious. I  didn’t go into the hallway at night. And I did my best to avoid the basement door altogether. I  tried my best to just put them out of my head. I went back to focus on getting a job, and a  second tenant for the upstairs space. Both of which proved to be a challenge. But I  was making progress. The TSA was hiring, for example. Not the most glamorous  job, but it would be solid work. Finally, a couple of college students came by  to check the upstairs floor. A young couple who needed

a place to stay while they finished  up their master’s degrees. They seemed like nice enough people. We got along just fine.  They knew the place wasn’t the prettiest. But it was a neat short-term solution while  they finished up the upcoming semester. The only problem was the Walters family. I remember knocking on the basement door to introduce them. The young couple were standing  behind me. Alvin, the oldest of the brothers, chimed in with a cheerful ‘come in’. As we went downstairs, the fami

ly of four was standing in a picture perfect  two-by-two formation. Mom and dad in the back, two kids in the front. All dressed in their Sunday  best. A freshly printed smile across their faces. The whole scene was insane. It looked like  some kind of commercial from the 1950’s. “Hello!” giggled Leila. “Aren’t they  the most handsome couple, Anders?” “They sure are, Leila.” Anders  answered back, polite as ever. For the first twenty seconds or so, this  very uncomfortable silence grew between us

. The Walters just stood there, smiling.  Waiting for some kind of response. I wanted to say something. But I couldn’t help but to  feel that I was missing something obvious. Was Leila’s eye color a bit different? Was Alvin’s  face a bit lopsided? Was Anders missing a finger, or did he just stand in a weird angle? Maybe they’d been strange all along. Maybe it was only now that I was seeing it. When we finally parted ways, I followed the young couple outside. They both turned to me,  their faces

grim. One of them just stuttered. But the other managed to form a few words. They wanted to know about the blue box in the basement. They said they saw it move. The discussion died down after that, and they said their goodbyes. I got the  feeling that they wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. Still, their words lingered  in the back of my head. A box… that moved? Really? How’d I miss that? I decided to finally get some answers. I had to take a little risk  and figure this out, once and for all.

So one day I slipped a note under the door. It  said that I needed to clear out the basement for one afternoon while a plumber did some repairs. I  looked up a few plumbing things on Wikipedia and referenced a real company. I tried to make it look  all official and stuff. Later that day, Leila and Anders dropped by. They were holding hands, and  told me that they’d be sure to be out for the day. “Maybe we’ll go to the zoo,” smiled Anders. “Don’t you have work?” I asked. “It comes and goes,” he 

laughed. “We’re very fortunate.” “Very fortunate,” agreed  Leila. “So very fortunate.” At the designated time, the family was out of the  building. They went for a drive in Ander’s car. They promised they’d be back soon. I told them it  wouldn’t take the plumber more than an hour. They seemed a little suspicious when they hadn’t  seen the actual plumber show up yet. Finally, I just straight up lied. I gave them a fake  name and asked whether they wanted to call him. Leila didn’t call my bluff,

luckily.  But as they pulled out of the driveway, I was sweating. I didn’t even know what I was  so scared of. But my mind kept returning to that night when I saw her just standing in front  of the fridge. I had no idea what they were hiding. Or what they might do if I found  out about it. There was a part of me that just wanted to get into my car and drive away. Another part of me told me I was being an idiot. When they finally drove away, I wasted no  time. I ran downstairs, turned on the ligh

t, and started to go through their stuff. Yes, it  was an invasion of privacy. Probably illegal. But if I wanted to sleep again, I had to have  an idea about why they were being so damn weird. There were a lot of weird things about their  space. All their beds were perfectly made. Like no one had ever slept in them. Most  of the couches and surfaces were covered in dust. I could tell the TV hadn’t been  on in forever. It wasn’t even plugged in. There were no phones, or chargers. No laptops  or c

omputers. Just a bunch of boxes and unused furniture. I did find a polaroid camera  though. It was at least 30 years old I think. I started checking their boxes. Just clothes,  it seemed. All variations of what I’d already seen them wear. Identical sets of shirts, pants,  dresses, and shoes. At least four boxes’ worth. One box was just full of accessories. Like  earrings, necklaces, glasses, hair spray, and fake nails. Another was full of decorations  and knick-knacks. Porcelain dogs, family pho

tos, dried blue sunflowers and roses. I took my time, carefully placing everything back the way I found it. It was  weird. But there’s nothing incriminating or downright unnatural. Still, I remember what  that couple had said about a box that… moved. I couldn’t see anything like it. That is, until I turned to leave. Right by the side of the stairs, next to the  unused bathroom, was a large blue Styrofoam cooler. It was the kind of thing that kind of  blended into the background. Like it’d always

been there. Still, I could clearly remember  not owning one of those things. It looked old and torn. Like it’d been around for years. And maybe I was imagining things. But it looked like it was moving. Pulsing.  Something was pressing against the surface making little plastic squeals. There was a sound coming from it. Like a low guttural growl pushed through a thin  pipe. A sharp, rhythmic noise. It made the cooler rattle and shake ever so slightly.  I froze. I was hoping it would quiet down. I

held my breath and waited for it to settle. I slowly went back up the stairs. As I rounded the corner and lost sight of the cooler, I heard  the Styrofoam cover pop off. The sounds became clearer. I heard a loud growl, shifting in pitch  from high to low. Like a singer doing some kind of sick vocal warm-up trying to find the right pitch. Then something hit the floor with a painful yelp. I stopped dead in my tracks. I tried to figure out  what it was. It was like a cross between a dog and some k

ind of fox. A sharp, screeching tone. And then, it scrambled to its feet. I could hear claws scratching the floor. And then  something started coming my way. Fast. There was something primal in me that told me  to run. I ran up the stairs. I only looked back for a quick look as I shut the door behind me. I only saw it for a moment. Something black, with a single eye looking back at me. Its skin  was tight and misplaced across the skull. There were teeth was pointing in all directions, in  seemin

gly random sizes. Black drool dripped off a long elongated tongue. It was a thing wearing the cheap suit of a black dog. As I slammed the door shut, I could hear a car pull up on the driveway.  It’d been less than 30 minutes. Maybe they had planned to catch me in the act. I heard them come in and head straight for the basement. Meanwhile, I was in the other  room. I was packing a small bag with a change of clothes and a toothbrush. The moment I heard  the basement door shut, I headed for my car.

As soon as I got in, I saw them step  out of the house. They all stood there in the driveway, just looking at me. And right next to them was a beautiful black Labrador happily wagging its tail. I didn’t say a word. I just drove. I had to get away and figure out what the hell I wanted  to even do. I wanted to go to the police but there was no way to explain what I’d seen. What could  they even do? Kick them out for having a dog? There was a clause in the rental agreement  that let them have a pe

t. I had nothing. I decided to spend the night at a motel  just out of town. I needed time to think and sleep without having the threat  of something strange living under me. I couldn’t get that image out  of my head. That little thing, in the dog suit. Like something trying to  remember what a dog looked and sounded like. I checked in at the motel and got a room on the  first floor. I crawled into bed, put the TV on, and surfed a bit on my phone. I could feel  myself relax for the first time in

weeks. But every time I thought about that house, and  that family, I could feel my pulse go faster. I remember a tap on the door. I must’ve dozed  off. I hadn’t turned the TV off or brushed my teeth. I just woke up with this sour feeling in  my stomach. That something was terribly wrong. I had closed the curtains, so I couldn’t see  who it was. My thoughts raced. But I tried to think of more rational possibilities. Maybe it  was just housekeeping. Or a concerned manager. Then the knock came ag

ain.  This time, with a voice. It was Alvin Walters. Saying they just wanna talk. I didn’t answer. For a few seconds, I carefully stepped out of my bed. I  tried my best to not make any noise. There was no way they didn’t know I was in  there. They knew, and they wanted something. And whatever it was, I did not want to find out. I snuck over to the back of the room as the doorknob started to rattle. I could hear Alvin  again, telling me to open the door. This time, his voice sounded like the  mo

nstrous growl of an adult man. I pulled open the curtains to a window facing  the back of the building. I figured I could climb out there. But as soon as those  curtains opened, my heart skipped a beat. Right there, was Anders. The father  himself. Just inches from the window. Standing straight with his neatly tucked  shirt. A smile was cemented on his face. He tapped the window. “Would you mind opening up?” he asked. “It won’t take long.” Again, I looked a little closer. And again, I could see

little details that were just  off. A slight droop of the lip that hadn’t been there the day before. One eye pulled  lower than the other. I think his hairline was further forward than usual. Like he’d  rushed himself to look like a person. There was another knock at the door. Another  knock at the window. Voices from the front, and the back. Hell, maybe even room next door.  Little voices. Big voices. Broken voices. I had to make a break for it. I pulled the  front curtains aside to see how man

y of them were waiting up front. All five of them were standing there. Mom, dad, kids, and dog. I looked at the Anders by the back window. I was trying to convince myself I wasn’t insane. There  were two dads. And none of them looked right. Further down the street, in their car,  I spotted two more kids identical to Aiden and Alvin. Both looking like they  weren’t fully formed yet. A loose jaw, a strange eye. One of them had a wide bald spot. I saw another Leila stepping out of the motel manager

’s office. This one had a  deflated arm, and a paralyzed face. I was surrounded. I held  up my phone like a weapon. “I’m calling the police!” I said.  “Get the hell away from me!” “That’d be inconvenient,” said Anders. The doorknob rattled again. More forceful this time. I could feel my pulse rising. My  breath growing short. I looked back and forth, seeing the Anders at the back window trying to  figure out the lock. Only now did I see that one of his fingers was nothing but bone. “How about a

trade?” suggested Leilah. “Something for everyone.” “What the hell are you talking about?!” I said, backing into a corner. “Go inside that bathroom of yours. Grab a piece of tissue, and chew on it. Then drop it out  the window.” Leilah’s voice was as calm as ever. “What?” I couldn’t understand what I was  hearing. It’s like the words were there, but didn’t make any sense. “We’re gonna need a new suit,” said Leila. “You will do.” “You’re not wearing me.” I spat back. “Oh, we’ll leave you alone. A

nd you’ll leave us  alone.” Leila continued. “ Because if you don’t, people that look like you are gonna start  doing some terrible things. So that way, we can all walk away. You’ll never  see us again, and we’ll leave you be.” I tried to wrap my head around it. They were  gonna make suit out of me. Like they’d done with that dog, and with that family.  There would be someone looking like me, walking around out there. Something vile. But what choice did I have? I stepped into the bathroom and I

chewed  up a piece of tissue. I spat it out and moved to the window. The family stepped  back. I clicked the window open and flung the piece of tissue out with a flick of a  finger. Leila picked it up and met my eyes. With one clench of the fist, she grabbed the top  of her head and pulled. Her entire face lurched backwards. Her lower lip slid all the way to  her eyebrows. Underneath was just this black sludge. It covered a deformed skull. She was  like a walking oil spill. She pushed the piece

of tissue inside herself before pulling her  face back down. It took her a few seconds to realign. She just couldn’t get it to look right. She coughed a little. She waited. She nodded. And when she looked back at me, she did so with  my own eyes. She spoke with my own tongue. “Thank you,” I heard myself say. “I think  this will work out for all of us, don’t you?” I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t think. I just  closed the curtains, and scrambled backwards. I heard a car pull around. I heard rustling

  in the bushes out back. And from afar, I could hear my own voice a final time. “We’ll be gone by morning,” it said. “But we’re never far away.” I heard a car drive off, and I just stood there. The next morning, they were gone. The basement was  empty. They even left a thank-you note. Attached to it was a polaroid picture of a happy family.  A mom, a dad, two kids – and a funny uncle. One that looked exactly like me. Are they watching me? How many ‘suits’ do they have? I’ve wanted to just put t

his behind me and pretend it never happened, but it’s  getting harder and harder. Every now and then, I see someone that looks vaguely like them.  An Anders with a different haircut. A Leilah that’s slightly younger. School photos with  an Aiden or Alvin, but a different hair color. And a few weeks ago, I got a call from a friend,  mentioning how they’d seen me in the local newspaper. Only thing is, I’ve never been in it. I’ve considered moving somewhere far, far away. But first, I just need to

get this out. I need someone to believe me. The real me, and not the me  you might see in the papers.