The Evil My Neighbor Did With My Clothes Episode 1

My name is David, and I recently moved into a semi-advanced neighborhood, leaving behind the chaos of the city for a quieter, more tranquil life. It felt good to finally have my own space—a modest house, complete with a little front yard and a shiny black car that gleamed in the sunlight.

On the day I arrived, as I carried the last of my luggage into the house, I noticed a woman standing across the house. She was tall and slim, her face partially obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. She stood utterly still, her eyes fixed on me like I was some sort of specimen.

"Good afternoon," I called out, waving my hand.

She didn’t respond.

"Hello?" I tried again, my voice louder this time.

No reaction. She just stood there, staring at me with those unblinking eyes. A chill crept up my spine, but I forced a smile and muttered under my breath, “Weird,” before heading inside.

Later that evening, as I unpacked, I glanced out the window. She was still there, standing in the same spot, her gaze unwavering.

The next morning, I woke up early, eager to start my day. As the sun rose, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I opened the curtains to let in the light. And there she was again. This time, she was seated on a wooden bench near her house, still staring in my direction.

I sighed. Maybe she’s just curious, I thought.

For days, this behavior continued. Every morning when I opened my curtains, I would see her in the distance. Every evening, she would appear again, always staring.

One morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. I marched outside, determined to confront her.

"Excuse me!" I shouted as I approached her. "Do you need something? Why do you keep staring at me?"

She didn’t answer. Instead, she slowly raised her hand and pointed her finger at me. Her face was devoid of expression. Then, she snapped her fingers sharply, turned around, and walked away without a word.

I stood there, dumbfounded.

"Unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head as I went back inside.

That night, I had the strangest dream. I was standing in my bedroom, but it felt off somehow. The walls seemed to close in, and the air was heavy. Then, I saw her. She was in my room, her back turned to me.

"Who are you?!" I demanded.

She turned around slowly, and my breath caught in my throat. She was wearing my clothes. My favorite shirt, my jeans—everything I had left drying on the rope outside earlier that day.

"You have no right!" I shouted in the dream, but she simply smiled—a cold, eerie smile that sent shivers down my spine.

I woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. My heart was pounding as I sat up in bed, trying to calm myself.

"It was just a dream," I whispered to myself. But the unease lingered.

Feeling restless, I decided to check on my clothes. I grabbed a flashlight and stepped outside into the cool night air. My yard was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of crickets.

When I reached the rope where I had spread my clothes to dry, my blood ran cold. The clothes were gone—every single piece.

I frantically scanned the ground, hoping they had simply fallen, but they were nowhere to be found. Then, I noticed something that made my stomach churn. Drops of blood stained the ground near the rope, leading away into the darkness.

"What the…?" I whispered, stepping back. My mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting.

I hurried back inside, locking the door behind me. My heart was heavy with dread as I tried to make sense of everything. Who was this woman? Why was she behaving so strangely? And what had happened to my clothes?

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had crossed paths with something—or someone—far from ordinary.

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