u/Whole-General8777

Honestly idk anymore ive started to take up horror fiction stories as a hobby or when i get motivation just to have something to look forward too but every sub i post to like for example r/nosleep i got banned, r/nonsleep i got refered to a r/scarystories and now got banned there too

So what im asking is,is there any sub that allows horror fiction that isnt strict on formatting or has crazy rules,here i thought i can take up a new fun hobby and now it seems like i cant even write anything anymore because it breaks every rule.

A bit of backstory.

When I was little my dad moved away about a 2 hour flight away.

A few years later, he invited me to spend a weekend with him after he competed in a championship. My mom dropped me off, and I waited until around six o'clock for him to finish. After that, we drove to a overnight stay. The plan was simple: have a barbecue, catch up with his old high school friends, and stay the night.

When we got there, everyone was already setting up around the grill overlooking a dense stretch of bush. The lodge was surrounded by fences and electric fencing, so it felt isolated but safe.

There were five of us around the fire.

My dad.

Three of his old friends.

And one man I had never met before.

He looked... wrong.

Not in an obvious way. He just looked like someone who had been living on the streets for years. His beard was messy, his clothes were worn, and he never took off this faded greenish-gray beanie.

Nobody seemed bothered by him, so I figured he was just another one of Dad's old friends.

The night went on normally.

We laughed, ate far too much meat, and listened to stories about the stupid things they'd done back in high school.

Eventually people started heading to bed.

First my dad.

Then one of the other men.

Eventually it was just me, an older man everyone called "Uncle", and the guy in the green beanie.

The older man stretched and looked at his watch.

"That's me for the night," he said. "Goodnight."

I wished him goodnight, and he disappeared into his room.

That left me alone with the beanie guy.

A minute later, he quietly stood up and walked down a set of stairs leading toward the darkness beyond the barbecue area. I'd been down there earlier looking for the bathroom. It was pitch black once you left the lights.

He disappeared into it.

I sat on my phone for about five minutes.

Then I heard footsteps.

He came back up the stairs.

Something about him had changed.

He walked differently.

His posture was stiffer.

He sat directly across the fire from me without saying anything.

Then he looked at me.

Not at me...

Through me.

Like he was studying something behind my eyes.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

"Are you normally this human?"

I laughed nervously.

"What?"

He tilted his head.

"Are you normally this human?"

His voice never changed. No emotion. No curiosity. Just... flat.

Every instinct I had told me to leave.

I stood up.

"I'm heading to bed."

For the first time all night, he looked confused.

Almost like he didn't understand what sleeping was.

I turned and walked away as fast as I could without running.

I couldn't help myself.

I looked back.

He hadn't moved.

He was still staring at me.

I broke into a run.

I reached the room my dad and the older man were sharing, locked the sliding glass door behind me, and pulled the curtains shut.

Then I remembered something.

Earlier that evening I'd noticed another door inside the room. It connected to the rest of the lodge and the other rooms.

The lock didn't work properly.

I quietly stacked our bags in front of it so I'd hear if anyone opened it.

I climbed into bed.

Then...

A knock.

Soft.

Three slow taps on the glass door.

I froze.

Another knock.

Then a voice.

"Open the door, little one."

Silence.

Then...

"I know you're in there."

The handle moved.

Once.

Twice.

Then whoever it was stopped.

A few seconds later I heard footsteps walking away across the patio.

I grabbed my phone and tried calling the police.

No signal.

I sat there staring at the connecting door.

Minutes passed.

Then I heard it.

A slow creak.

The door moved.

Just enough to make the bags shift.

Something reached around the edge of the doorway.

The fingers were impossibly long.

Far longer than they should have been.

Then two dark, hollow eyes slowly peeked around the corner.

They never blinked.

Neither did I.

I don't remember how long we stared at each other.

Eventually the hallway was empty.

I don't remember falling asleep.

The next thing I knew, sunlight was pushing through the curtains.

The bags I'd stacked against the connecting door were exactly where I'd left them.

Untouched.

For a moment, I convinced myself I'd imagined everything.

Then I looked down.

There were muddy footprints on the floor.

They started at the locked sliding door.

They crossed the room.

And stopped beside my bed.

There were no footprints leading away.

I woke my dad immediately.

He thought I was joking until he saw them himself.

The beanie guy was gone.

His room was empty.

His bag had disappeared.

Nobody remembered seeing him leave.

When we asked the owner of Tyger Valley Lodge about him, she frowned.

"The man with the green beanie?" she asked.

We nodded.

She looked genuinely confused.

"I never saw anyone like that check in."

My dad insisted the man had been sitting with us around the fire all evening.

She simply shook her head.

We left not long afterward.

I tried convincing myself I'd misunderstood what happened.

Years passed.

Last weekend I visited my dad again.

We were looking through an old box of photographs from that trip when I found one someone had taken around the fire that night.

There was my dad.

His friends.

Me.

And one empty chair.

I checked another photo.

Then another.

Every single picture showed the exact same thing.

An empty chair where we all remembered the man in the green beanie sitting.

I called my dad immediately.

Before I could say a word, he interrupted me.

"Don't."

His voice was shaking.

"I had the dream again."

"What dream?"

"The one where something comes out of the trees wearing my friend's face."

I couldn't speak.

After several seconds, he whispered something I'll never forget.

"It wasn't pretending to be him."

"It was practicing."

Ever since then, I can't watch someone walk into the woods alone.

If they come back...

I wait for them to speak first.

Because if they look at me and ask,

"Am I still... human enough?"

I'm terrified they'll already know the answer.

A bit of backstory.

When I was little my dad moved away about a 2 hour flight away.

A few years later, he invited me to spend a weekend with him after he competed in a championship. My mom dropped me off, and I waited until around six o'clock for him to finish. After that, we drove to a overnight stay. The plan was simple: have a barbecue, catch up with his old high school friends, and stay the night.

When we got there, everyone was already setting up around the grill overlooking a dense stretch of bush. The lodge was surrounded by fences and electric fencing, so it felt isolated but safe.

There were five of us around the fire.

My dad.

Three of his old friends.

And one man I had never met before.

He looked... wrong.

Not in an obvious way. He just looked like someone who had been living on the streets for years. His beard was messy, his clothes were worn, and he never took off this faded greenish-gray beanie.

Nobody seemed bothered by him, so I figured he was just another one of Dad's old friends.

The night went on normally.

We laughed, ate far too much meat, and listened to stories about the stupid things they'd done back in high school.

Eventually people started heading to bed.

First my dad.

Then one of the other men.

Eventually it was just me, an older man everyone called "Uncle", and the guy in the green beanie.

The older man stretched and looked at his watch.

"That's me for the night," he said. "Goodnight."

I wished him goodnight, and he disappeared into his room.

That left me alone with the beanie guy.

A minute later, he quietly stood up and walked down a set of stairs leading toward the darkness beyond the barbecue area. I'd been down there earlier looking for the bathroom. It was pitch black once you left the lights.

He disappeared into it.

I sat on my phone for about five minutes.

Then I heard footsteps.

He came back up the stairs.

Something about him had changed.

He walked differently.

His posture was stiffer.

He sat directly across the fire from me without saying anything.

Then he looked at me.

Not at me...

Through me.

Like he was studying something behind my eyes.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

"Are you normally this human?"

I laughed nervously.

"What?"

He tilted his head.

"Are you normally this human?"

His voice never changed. No emotion. No curiosity. Just... flat.

Every instinct I had told me to leave.

I stood up.

"I'm heading to bed."

For the first time all night, he looked confused.

Almost like he didn't understand what sleeping was.

I turned and walked away as fast as I could without running.

I couldn't help myself.

I looked back.

He hadn't moved.

He was still staring at me.

I broke into a run.

I reached the room my dad and the older man were sharing, locked the sliding glass door behind me, and pulled the curtains shut.

Then I remembered something.

Earlier that evening I'd noticed another door inside the room. It connected to the rest of the lodge and the other rooms.

The lock didn't work properly.

I quietly stacked our bags in front of it so I'd hear if anyone opened it.

I climbed into bed.

Then...

A knock.

Soft.

Three slow taps on the glass door.

I froze.

Another knock.

Then a voice.

"Open the door, little one."

Silence.

Then...

"I know you're in there."

The handle moved.

Once.

Twice.

Then whoever it was stopped.

A few seconds later I heard footsteps walking away across the patio.

I grabbed my phone and tried calling the police.

No signal.

I sat there staring at the connecting door.

Minutes passed.

Then I heard it.

A slow creak.

The door moved.

Just enough to make the bags shift.

Something reached around the edge of the doorway.

The fingers were impossibly long.

Far longer than they should have been.

Then two dark, hollow eyes slowly peeked around the corner.

They never blinked.

Neither did I.

I don't remember how long we stared at each other.

Eventually the hallway was empty.

I don't remember falling asleep.

The next thing I knew, sunlight was pushing through the curtains.

The bags I'd stacked against the connecting door were exactly where I'd left them.

Untouched.

For a moment, I convinced myself I'd imagined everything.

Then I looked down.

There were muddy footprints on the floor.

They started at the locked sliding door.

They crossed the room.

And stopped beside my bed.

There were no footprints leading away.

I woke my dad immediately.

He thought I was joking until he saw them himself.

The beanie guy was gone.

His room was empty.

His bag had disappeared.

Nobody remembered seeing him leave.

When we asked the owner of Tyger Valley Lodge about him, she frowned.

"The man with the green beanie?" she asked.

We nodded.

She looked genuinely confused.

"I never saw anyone like that check in."

My dad insisted the man had been sitting with us around the fire all evening.

She simply shook her head.

We left not long afterward.

I tried convincing myself I'd misunderstood what happened.

Years passed.

Last weekend I visited my dad again.

We were looking through an old box of photographs from that trip when I found one someone had taken around the fire that night.

There was my dad.

His friends.

Me.

And one empty chair.

I checked another photo.

Then another.

Every single picture showed the exact same thing.

An empty chair where we all remembered the man in the green beanie sitting.

I called my dad immediately.

Before I could say a word, he interrupted me.

"Don't."

His voice was shaking.

"I had the dream again."

"What dream?"

"The one where something comes out of the trees wearing my friend's face."

I couldn't speak.

After several seconds, he whispered something I'll never forget.

"It wasn't pretending to be him."

"It was practicing."

Ever since then, I can't watch someone walk into the woods alone.

If they come back...

I wait for them to speak first.

Because if they look at me and ask,

"Am I still... human enough?"

I'm terrified they'll already know the answer.