Advertisement
Please wait...

The Sounds of Love



Estimated reading time — 4 minutes

Everyone hates addressing “the elephant in the room”. The elephant in my room was the loud creaking, shaking and obnoxious moaning above it. As a graduate of biology, I understand the importance of “getting off”. What I failed to understand is why the tenant living above my apartment had to “party hard” for what seemed to be every waking second of the night hours. The tenant and his wife never used to have sex this frequently, trust me with my cardboard ceiling I could hear spiders having a fun time. I would hear the creaking and moaning once every few weeks. But for reasons unknown, it suddenly turned to a love riot above me.

I met the tenant’s wife once. She was quiet and left me with the impression she kept to herself. She was everything I wanted to see in a woman: soft spoken, red haired, sculpted body. It pained me to see a gold ring on her finger. I would lie in my bed at night looking forward to hearing her moans and groans, I don’t enjoy admitting feelings for another man’s wife but we’re all human. I enjoyed telling myself she was becoming tired of her husband. She had not been moaning and groaning very much. I imagined I would too if a once a week thing became a “once every few hours thing”. It hadn’t had any effect on her husband though. I was able to hear his “sounds” louder than I could hear my own thoughts.

It was 4:21 A.M. I could hear the husband starting his engines. A part of me felt jealous that he was with such a beautiful woman. I would have liked to say that his sounds bothered me, but I would have been lying. What bothered me most were constant reminders of being single, and every moment of the night being reminded of what I was missing out on. I thought to myself “I have to put an end to this”. It was time for me to confront the elephant in the room.

I went up the stairs and knocked on his door. I must admit I expected to hear swearing and fuming. But the husband came to the door and calmly asked, “Is there a problem?” His face was plagued with an almost concerned look. There on the couch I could see his wife in a blanket, only her bright red hair showing. I felt so embarrassed; I didn’t know what to say. I had obviously humiliated this couple. “Why couldn’t I have just gone to bed a jealous bitter jerk?” I asked myself.

As I stared eye to eye with the tenant I noticed a look of sharp fear, a far cry from the anticipated embarrassment. At least five seconds of staring passed before I finally stomached the courage and said with a lop-sided grin, “It’s a little late at night for all this excitement, I’m sorry but I have to get up for work in two hours and am having trouble sleeping”. “My wife and I will keep it quiet”, the tenant abruptly assured. Before I could say “Have a good night” the tenant slammed the door in my face. The situation absurd as it may have been left me with an eerie chill in my spine. As a graduate of biology I noticed the man had a strange body odor, an odor that doesn’t occur on any animal unless…? What if the tenant was having an affair with his wife? Maybe they were divorced. I hadn’t seen his wife leave the room at all recently. That would explain a lot, except I’ve never seen another woman with hair that bright red.

Trying to forget my encounter I walked back into my room and fell asleep. The next morning I called my landlord and requested I be moved to a unit across the street. “Is there a problem? If so you should have notified me. May I ask what the problem is?” the landlord asked. His voice left an implication I was going to have to “deal with it”. Feeling slightly ashamed I finally told him “The tenant above my room has recently gotten into the habit of having sex, sorry for citing a cliché, but ‘ALL NIGHT LONG’. This has been cutting my sleep time in half and I have to wake up early in the mor…” “Jesus Christ, he’s already found another one? That was fast!” The landlord exclaimed. Confused I felt it an obligation to ask “Found another what? I went upstairs and asked him to keep the noise level down and saw his wife on the couch so I’m not sure what you mean by another one.”

The landlord had hung up on me mid-sentence. I tried to call back but got a busy signal. I wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. My landlord was acting funky. He usually behaved much more professionally than this. Suddenly I realized I was running late for work, so any questions I had for the landlord were put on hold.

Advertisements

When I got back to the apartment after work there were three police cars outside the complex. Assuming it was just a routine call I attempted to walk back inside only to realize a large African American policeman walking very swiftly my direction. I stopped and when he approached me he asked “Are you the occupant of room number 665?” I stood there and once again in my confused state answered “Umm, yes?” The officer nodded and asked “Can you explain to me your recent encounter with the man above your room?”

Memory clouded, I was finally able to retrieve the one true face to face encounter the man and I had ever exchanged and vehemently said “The only encounter he and I have ever had was when I went up and asked him and his wife to keep the noise level down we only spoke for 30 seconds. I called the landlord and complained about the noises I had requested to be moved to another room in the complex.”

Advertisements

The officer looked me in the eyes took a deep breath and said in an almost forced tone “Sir your landlord contacted us immediately after your complaint, he said you had seen the man’s wife.”

Advertisements

“Yes, I did. She was hiding underneath blankets, but I recognized some of the hair sticking out as hers.”

The police officer turned away from my face and muttered, “His wife died of a brain aneurysm, she was laid to rest one week ago.”

Credit To: Matt

Please wait...

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.

47 thoughts on “The Sounds of Love”

  1. The body makes me think necrophilia. The fact that they have record of her dying and being buried, and haven’t investigated his place or questioned him about a grave being dug up almost makes me think ghost.
    Too predictable. Too many holes.

  2. TheCreepyGamer

    Oh! subs are open? great! I have a story or two to submit. just need to figure out where you send them.

  3. MadameMoonMasquerade

    Kind expected it but to me it needed more….detail.. And more story. Sorry if anyone disagrees…….. But nice story-line , I guess?

  4. Necrophilia! Ick! I can’t say whether this story is predictable or not, because of my habit of reading the comments before the story. It ruined it! *sighs* But the story really was awesome other than that. Everybody who keeps saying it isn’t good is stupid. This story is freaking amazing! :D

  5. Thought it was all around good…didn’t expect that ending….nice, if not a bit creepy. Not predictable in the least.

  6. Omg someone pleas tell me why “A Little Piece of Heaven” by Avenged Sevenfold kept playing on my iPod while reading this

  7. Not terrible, but definitely not one of the better pastas. The ending was, to put it simply, disappointing and predictable. Everything leading up to it, however, was quite good, and it was rather upsetting to see all the hopes I had for a scary conclusion snuffed out by “…she was laid to rest one week ago.”

  8. the ending was very anticlimactic. and i didnt get a few things. the police officer said that his wife was laid to rest, but then he was having sex with her? and what did the landlord mean by “he found another one”?

    this pasta is bland.

    1. Nicola Marie Jackson

      His wife was buried and the landlord thought he had found a new girlfriend, but he had dug up the wife and was making sweet loud lurve with her corpse. Hope that helps xxx

  9. Also, I just thought of something. The landlord seemed to know the man’s wife was dead, and the police officer did too. How the hell did the man get his wife’s body back from the coroner? Might have touched upon that a bit…

  10. Your story annoyed me. I guessed that she was dead as soon as you said they had sex once every few weeks and then a few times a night. Interesting idea, sure. But I was annoyed by the way you rushed everything, used a lot of run-on sentences, and used bizarre adjectives that didn’t really match what you were describing. For example, why would he “vehemently” tell the police officer about the only conversation he had with the man? He had nothing to hide, so he could have said this quite normally. Don’t try to sound so diverse when you’re writing. Sometimes simple is better, and it won’t detract so much from the story.

    1. He told him vehemently because he thought he was in trouble for complaining. That the guy had made up some stuff about their interaction. So he was defensive.

  11. I got that it was necrophilia early on in the story, but I kept reading because it was interesting. I just thought she died, and the guy had told everyone she left him or something. At the end though, the cop said the guy’s wife was laid to rest. So he dug her back up?

  12. I think his wife just died, and he kept having sex with her. By “another one” the landlord thought he got another girl.

    1. I took it to mean that he thought he’d found another woman to sleep with so soon after his wife’s death.

      Thus the “that was fast” because one would expect the husband to still be in mourning over his dead wife, not bringing home other woman to have loud sex with.

      1. Ah good, thanks for the explanation. I was stuck thinking about that and went through the comments just to see if anyone else asked the same question.

  13. Necrophilia. Oh God. XD. Kinda predictable (I mean, it was obvious that his wife was dead under the blankets) but I liked the ending.

Leave a Reply to J Cancel Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top