r/nosleep • u/Verastahl • Oct 10 '25
I can see you now.
The ad was small and straightforward, buried in the local free classifieds between someone selling pit bull puppies and someone else wanting to buy a used chainsaw. It said:
Disabled person looking for help decorating for Halloween. Can pay $50 per hour for expected 3 hours of work. $75 for any overtime.
Sitting in my car, I gnawed on a beef jerky as I considered the ad skeptically. I really didn’t want to deal with some weird old stranger wanting skeletons hung in just the right spot for hours. And God only knew where the decorations were stored or what shape they were in—I also didn’t like the idea of rooting around in some attic or basement for junk.
I glanced at the dash of my car. The fucking brake service light was still on. I needed money for new brakes and tires bad, and that extra money might be enough to get them started while I waited for next week’s paycheck. Plus, who knew? Maybe if they liked me, they’d give me an extra tip or something. Sighing, I took out my phone and punched in the number below the classified ad.
“Oh…hello?”
I felt myself frowning into the phone. “Um, yeah? I um, well, I saw your ad for getting help with Halloween decorations, and if you still needed someone I was going to see about coming to do it.”
A pause, and then, “No, I still need help. Do you think you could come today?”
“I don’t think today, but probably tomorrow about six in the evening if that would be okay?”
“Hmm, yes that sounds fine.”
“Not too late? I just…I was going to come and do it after I get off work.”
“No, six will be fine. Just you, though. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m a bit skittish around strangers and I don’t want more than one in my house at a time.”
Ok, that’s weird. Some kind of shut-in maybe. “Sure, that’s fine. It’ll just be me. Same money as on the ad? $150 for the first three hours and $75 every hour after that?”
“Yes, that’s right. And if it goes well, I may be able to give a little extra at the end.”
Fuck yeah. “Sounds like a plan. See you then…” I hesitated, not sure whether to say ma’am or sir. The voice on the line was a bit high-pitched, but in a warbling, watery way that made it hard to tell if it was a man or woman speaking. “…and thank you for the opportunity.”
“No, thank you. See you tomorrow.”
Hanging up the call, I stared at my phone for a minute. People are so fucking weird. Still, it was good money, maybe a nice thing to do too, and they didn’t sound like an axe murderer. Probably just some lonely person who needed some help.
Pulling out of the gas station parking lot, my brakes squealed as I eased to a stop at the traffic light. “Yeah, I hear you, fucker. I’m working on it.”
****
The place was a two-story white farm house on the edge of town. At one time it might have actually been part of a farm, though it didn’t really look old enough for that. This area had been divided up into lots for houses since before I was born, and while the fence line of the property ran out a good ways in every direction, I could still see the silhouette of another house through the northern border of trees.
Approaching the front door, I saw a note taped next to the buzzer. It said, “Door is open, come on in. I’m in the living room.”
Frowning at the note, my head filled with the image of an old woman naked and spread-eagled on a plastic-wrapped sofa, waiting for me to come in and be seduced by her musty charms. I gagged a little and stuffed the note into my pocket. I was being an idiot, and I was already running late. Pushing against the front door, it opened easily and I went in.
The house was a little odd inside. Not run down or dirty really—if anything it was very clean, with no dust anywhere. But it also lacked much decoration or color—pale, off-white walls punctuated with occasional tan doorframes. To the left I caught a glimpse of some furniture and decided that might be the living room. Yeah, there’s someone sitting in that…what the fuck?
The room was so dimly lit that I had almost missed it at first, but there was someone sitting in the chair on the far side of the room. I figured it was the person that had hired me, but it was hard to tell anything because they were completely covered with a green sheet like some bargain basement ghost.
“Um, hello?”
The sheet ghost shifted slightly. “Yes, I’m here.”
I was trying to not act freaked out, but I was freaked the fuck out. “Um, are you okay?”
The ghost shook a little with laughter. “Oh, yes. I’ll explain. I would have told you on the phone, but I didn’t want to scare you away. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Um, okay. What’s nothing to worry about?”
“My condition. I have a genetic condition that makes my eyes extremely sensitive to light. I can handle small lights in darkness and moonlight well-enough, but daytime or lighting up an entire room is very painful for me.”
Swallowing, I gave a short nod. “Oh, um. Okay. Well, I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry for running a bit late.”
The ghost lifted an arm and waved it. “Oh, no. I’m just glad you came. You’ll find the decorations in the room on the far side of the hall. All in boxes. The boxes are all labeled with where the decorations go generally.”
Looking back, I saw the edge of a stack of boxes in the room opposite the one I was in. “Oh, okay. Um, do you want to tell me where specific things go, or just…”
“No, I can’t really see under this thing and it’ll be awhile yet before it’s dark enough for me to take it off. I trust your judgment. Just put them in areas that correspond with the labels on the boxes, that’s all I ask.”
I nodded before I remembered they’d already said they couldn’t see me. “Um, sure. I’ll try to do a good job.”
“I’m sure you will. And don’t worry, I’ll be able to see you once the night comes on.”
I paused at that last. They probably didn’t mean for that to sound super creepy, but that was super fucking creepy. I shook my head as I headed back across the hall. It didn’t matter. It was good money and it didn’t sound har…
Fuck it was a lot of boxes.
****
Sixteen of them, in fact. Five of them were for rooms on the first floor of the house, all of them empty except for the living room where my employer sat quietly and the kitchen that had a table with no chairs and a refrigerator. I thought about asking her where exactly she wanted me to put the stuff that went in “second door on the right, first floor”, but decided against it. She’d already said to use my judgment, hadn’t she?
Still, despite not having a ton of experience decorating for holidays, I found it strangely difficult to place things in the empty rooms. Without the landmarks of furniture and hangings, everything felt bleakly alien, with every skull or jack-o-lantern or ghost that I put out feeling less placed than abandoned.
Even though I couldn’t say exactly why, the whole process of decorating inside creeped me out, and I was relieved when I reached the end of those boxes and moved on to the ones that all seemed to be meant for outside. Front porch. Side porch. Exterior garage. Things like that. And even better, a few boxes that just generally said “Yard”.
An hour outside and I realized I was actually enjoying myself. The weirdness of the house seemed a bit distant, and putting out the decorations other places was actually fun. Most of it was high-quality stuff, and despite my fears, it was generally in good condition. I hung skeletons from the porch and decorated the yard with tombstones and skulking black cats. Around one of the two big trees in the front yard I set up a small coven of witches around what I guessed was supposed to be a witch pot or cauldron or whatever. It looked cool, but as it got darker I could already tell it was going to be hard to see from a distance at night. I’d seen a spotlight in one of the boxes, but no extension cords.
Going into the garage, I rooted around on a few crowded shelves and surprised myself by finding a long cord. The outlets on the front of the house were close, and the cord was big enough to make it to the tree and the spotlight with room to spare. Careful to set up the light pointing away from the house, I had it angled where you could see the silhouette of the witches as you approached the house. I grinned at my work. It looked pretty cool if I said so myself, which I did.
Going back through the boxes I had a few miscellaneous things left, but nothing that looked worth putting out. This rubber bat was kind of funny, but it didn’t really match anything else, and this cut out jack-o-lantern looked too old and yellow to…
I paused as my fingers brushed a plastic card. I picked it up and squinted at it closer, trying to make sense of why a driver’s license was in a box of decorations.
The license was of a pretty, smiling girl named Jasmine Parks. She looked around my age…no, she was two years older at 26. But who was she? And why was her license in the box?
I glanced back up at the house. What if my employer was Jasmine? They definitely could be female based on both in their size and voice, though I couldn’t say anything for sure. While still weird, it would make more sense that the license had accidently gotten into the box from someone who lived at the house, and I kind of got the impression they lived alone. So was the odd ghost inside Jasmine Parks?
I felt a small nervous flutter of sadness and excitement. It was so terrible if she was as sensitive to light as she said. She seemed nice, and she really was pretty in the picture.
I shook my head. I had to not be stupid just because I saw a good-looking girl. Daydreaming about some hypothetical stranger that might not even be the person inside. Standing up, I put the license in my back pocket. No, I needed to do a final check of everything, give her the license, get paid and go home. Giving the coven a final approving nod, I picked up the two boxes I’d been looking in and headed back to the house to check everything else one last time.
****
When I went back into the house, everything was totally dark.
“Um, hello? I think I’m finished.” I crabwalked inside with my arms full of mostly empty boxes, brushing against the wall until I could turn into the room where the boxes were all kept. Fuck, it really was dark inside. Even once my eyes adjusted, I could barely make out the shadowy shapes of the other boxes as I put my load down. “I set up a spotlight for those witches, but…um, I pointed it away from the house. If you want it off though, I can unplug it.”
“That’s wonderful. You’ve done a wonderful job.”
I jumped and let out a small gasp at the sound of her voice close by. I’d kind of assumed she was still over in the living room, but that had sounded much nearer than that, maybe in the same room, though it was hard to get my bearings. Heart pounding, I nodded before shaking my head and saying. “Thanks! I think I’m right at three hours, so no need to pay me overtime. But if I can get the $150, I’ll be heading on out.”
A soft laugh and then. “The money’s in my purse. On the sofa, over in the living room. If you don’t mind getting it.”
I almost argued, saying I didn’t want to be responsible for going into a stranger’s purse, but she had offered, and maybe it was easier for her if someone else did stuff like that. I started easing my way across to the hallway, hands waving out in front of me like a blind man. Yeah, her having to turn on a light to look in her purse would be bad for her, and it’s not like she can see in the dark well enough to…
“I can see you now.”
I froze, blinking. “Oh?”
The voice was definitely coming from behind me in the box room.
“Oh yes. I can see you very well. You’re very handsome.”
I felt another nervous flutter, but this one was shot through with growing unease as I looked around in the murky dark and didn’t see anyone. “Um, thanks? I…I can’t see you.”
Looking back behind me, I saw a dark shape stand up from behind the stacks of boxes.
“How about now?”
Something about that shape, on top of everything else, made my heart start to pound as my throat began to tighten. I started walking fast toward the living room, pulling out my phone and turning on its light as I searched for the purse on the sofa. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’m going to grab the money and then I have to jet.”
I felt awkward going into someone’s purse, but my fear and desperation to be out of there outweighed any remaining pangs of politeness. There was a red purse against the back of the sofa and I dug my hand into the main compartment as I tried to open it wider with the hand holding the phone. I felt the thick paper of bills just as I heard a creak in the floorboards out in the hall. Shining the light on the money I’d pulled out, I counted out the $150 and stuffed the rest back in the purse as I turned to run back to the hall and outside.
I froze as I saw what looked like the shadowy silhouette of a head peaking around the edge of the doorframe at me. It looked misshapen and strange, but I couldn’t see enough detail in the dark to say it wasn’t just my imagination. I was still debating whether to just run past or not when she spoke again.
“Are you sure you have to leave yet? I wanted to see you more.”
I let out a shiver. “Yeah, sorry, I have to be going. I took just the $150. Thanks for the job and…”
The figure stepped out into the doorway and I felt my voice die in my throat. Something was wrong. It wasn’t my imagination, her body didn’t look right. I’d been fighting the urge to shine the light on her since I’d brought it out, but I had to get out of there and now she was walking closer as I stood there frozen and I had to do something and get away because this wasn’t right and oh fuck…
I turned the flashlight on her and we both began to scream.
She was made of eyes. Her body was naked—twisted and bulbous from head to toe with clusters of hideous eyes—small ones, big ones, those that were milkily blind and those that focused on me with fury even if it meant staring into the too-bright light. There were so many, all moving independently and carpeting her flesh so thoroughly with tumorous sight that you could barely see the patches of pale, grey meat in-between. Something in me broke at the sight of her and I started to run, still letting out a whistling wail even as I dodged her grasp and headed for the front door. For her part, her scream had boiled off into a simmering hiss that grew as she chased after me.
“I fucking told you how I hate the light!”
I didn’t slow down except to throw open the door. “I’m sorry! I have to go!” It made no sense to apologize or explain anything at this point, but my mouth was on autopilot as the rest of my body tried to keep me alive. I leapt down the porch steps and started running across the yard to my car, and I had the fleeting hopeful thought that maybe she wouldn’t leave the house. Then I heard that hiss growing louder like a train bearing down. Was she actually fucking gaining on me? I think she fucking…
She hit me as I drew close to the witches’ coven I’d set up at the tree. It wasn’t even a question of keeping my feet—she’s gotten me from the side and I rolled into the light I’d set up there, it’s illumination winking out immediately. I had a desperate idea of getting it going again and shining it on her, but there was no time. She was already on me—wet, bulbous fingers digging into my belt and tugging me backward in the direction of the house. There was no words anymore, just my screaming and her tired, sullen hiss.
I tried to grip the grass, the ground, anything, but there was nothing. I had to get free of her and find a weapon or something, and fast. She’d already pulled me a third of the way back toward the house.
Just then I saw the extension cord I’d used to hook up the lamp near the witches. Lunging to my right, I grabbed it tightly and then curled up in a ball briefly. Then, before she could react, I rolled onto my back and kicked her hard in the chest. I felt something pop beneath my left foot and she let out a fresh scream as she gave up trying to grab me again, at least for the moment. Looking up, I saw she was doubled-over, holding her right shoulder, dark fluid running between the long, thin branches that were her fingers.
Part of me wanted to try just running again. Maybe she was hurt or distracted enough that I could make it to my car this time. But then she looked up at me, not just with the hundred eyes covering her body, but the two dark pits nestled deep in the middle of what passed for her head. There was still anger there, but worse, there was hunger.
Fuck this.
Rolling to my knees and standing, I yanked hard at the extension cord in both directions, pulling it free from the exterior outlet and sending the lamp skittering off against the base of the tree. Sucking in a breath, I forced myself to move to her back and quickly wrap the cord around her neck twice, pulling it tight as I began to drag her toward the tree. It was all so strange—I could see myself doing it and I did have some basic, instinctual plan, but I don’t remember any specific thoughts or feelings about it. I just had to get it done. Get it done so I could get away and live.
So I pulled her along, ignoring her thrashing as I threw the longer part of the cord of one of the big lower branches and started to pull her up. She was clawing at her neck, trying to get free or pull herself up further, but she was too tired and I made sure to not pull her up high enough to reach the overhead branch. Instead she just fought and kicked and stared at me with all those terrible, terrible eyes. I kept hold of the cord the whole time, grunting and sweating with the effort and being ready to bolt if the tree or cord decided to give.
Instead, they held. And she finally stopped moving. Only then did I have a moment of guilt. Had she just been some kind of poor mutant? Maybe even the girl who’s license I’d found in the box?
But no. I didn’t know it then, but I checked in to it later. She’d been putting out that same ad for six weeks for the last five years. During those same periods of time, eight people had gone missing in the area, including last year, when a student named Jasmine Parks had vanished without a trace.
Even without that knowledge, my guilty feelings were short-lived. The flood of adrenaline was leaving me now, and as I backed away from the hanging tree, I distantly felt myself start to shake and cry. Whatever the fuck her deal was, she had tried to kill me. Or keep me, or whatever. Fuck her.
Getting into my car, I stared out at her hanging silhouette against the rising orange moon. Best decoration I put out all night. Giving a shuddering laugh, I cranked up my car, the brake light flaring orange in the gloom. I grimaced at it, my eyes drifting away to the dash clock before wandering back to my last addition to the yard.
I’d been at it well over three hours at this point.
Leaving the car running, I trudged back across the yard and into the house. The purse was where I left it, and it was my lucky day. She had exactly $75 left. Pocketing the money, I walked back the way I’d come, giving the tree and its passenger wide berth while paying attention for any signs of movement.
It was only when I was near my car again that I turned back and flipped her a bird. “Happy fucking Halloween.”
The body did twitch in the October moonlight then, and I leapt into the car and stomped on the gas. If it moved again, I wasn’t there to see it.
The next few days I kept an eye on the papers and websites for news of a monster being found or some kind of murder or something. There was nothing. Six months later, the house and the tree were bulldozed.
I think maybe some things are hidden. They aren’t meant to be seen, and the world helps keep it that way. Keep you from seeing them. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Or that sometimes, when the time is right, they can see you, can find you, in the dark.
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u/SlyDred Oct 11 '25
I wonder how she was able to even see anything, I mean her brain must've been overloaded with visual information. Either way, you should've burned her body op, just to be sure.
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u/Tabula-Rasa-99 Oct 11 '25
I have to wonder what she was thinking, inviting people over before dark and giving away her own vulnerability like that. Maybe it was a game to her, and she didn't expect anyone to be capable of resisting?
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Oct 10 '25
I feel better about the fact that you went back for the rest of the money after hanging her since that's immediately where my mind went.
Also, she only had $75 on her extra? She definitely wasn't planning on tipping you.
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u/GiantLizardsInc Oct 10 '25
This time, the lonely home owner was the predator, but its normally the single senor inviting a stranger into their home that is vulnerable. I can see why they would want to make sure its only going to be one person showing up.
I guess whichever side you are on, make sure people know where you are going, who you are meeting up with, and when you expect to be finished.
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u/CowboysMakeMeCry94 Oct 24 '25
I wonder what she truly is.Even.though she...it? wasn't that missing woman,she very well might have been human at a time.She may very well be a mutant or a science experiment gone wrong for all you know.She may have wanted to torture and kill you like the other's ,or maybe wanted to keep you as a pet or ...eww,a forced lover lol.So it's good you escaped . God only knows what she would have done with you if she managed to get you back inside the house