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Sheep-headed Man Outside the Window
Sheep-headed Man Outside the Window

Sheep-headed Man Outside the Window

47 Chapters
Completed
In the chilling horror novel Sheep-headed Man Outside the Window, a quiet night turns into a nightmare. A grotesque, upright goat-headed figure appears at the window, staring at my wife. As I grab a knife, her sudden plea to spare it turns this mystery story into a terrifying struggle.

Sheep-headed Man Outside the Window Summary

An intimate night with my wife, Sophia, shattered the moment a strange sound echoed from our window. Drawing the curtains aside, I was confronted by a waking nightmare: a grotesque entity with a goat's head, standing upright like a human with its hooves resting on the sill. Its unsettling gaze was locked entirely on Sophia. Sensing an immediate, unnatural threat, I seized a knife to strike the creature down, only for my wife to cry out in its defense, pleading with me to spare its life.
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Chapter 1 of Sheep-headed Man Outside the Window

One night, I was being intimate with my wife, Sophia, in bed when we heard a noise by the window.

I drew aside the curtains to find a goat's head staring at us.

It stood upright like a human, its hooves resting on the windowsill, its eyes fixed on Sophia.

I sensed something was wrong and grabbed a knife to kill it, but Sophia said, "Don't kill it!"

——

That night, Sophia was unusually excited.

As we were entwined, I felt a chill on my back, as if someone was watching us.

Beer bottles by the window clinked together.

I froze, straining to listen.

Sophia wiped the sweat from her forehead and pouted, asking, "What's wrong?"

I asked, "Did you hear the sound?"

"What sound?" she said, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"I feel like someone's watching us," I said, turning towards the window.

I hadn't closed the curtains completely, leaving a small gap. Through it, I thought I saw a figure.

My mood vanished, and I put on my clothes and walked towards the window.

Sophia also sensed something was amiss and quickly grabbed the blanket to cover herself.

I tiptoed to the window and suddenly pulled back the curtains.

The goat's head appeared again, causing me to step back in fear, nearly falling to the ground.

Its hooves were on the windowsill, and its eyes were still fixed on Sophia, filled with a longing that should have belonged to a human, yet there was clearly a goat outside the window.

"Damn it, a goat ruined my night," I muttered, heading to the kitchen to grab a kitchen knife and went outside.

"What's outside the window?" Sophia asked.

"I think it's just our old goat that got out," I replied.

She let out a sigh of relief. "It's just a goat, right? It should be fine."

"I feel something's off. There's something wrong with its eyes."

"How could there be anything wrong with a goat? It understand nothing." Sophia was getting dressed in bed.

Reaching the door, I found the goat over the window had disappeared.

I walked out of the room to check the goat pen, where we kept several goats, including the old one that had been with us for ten years.

I found a flashlight, turned it on, and checked each goat in the pen.

They were all there, including the old one and the gate was locked.

The old goat, being the oldest in the pen, wouldn't have been able to jump over the 5.5-feet-high fence.

As I was about to open the gate with Sophia, she came out of the house and said, "Leo, we can't kill the old goat; the kids would be heartbroken."

I didn't respond and continued to shine the flashlight at the old goat, which was lying down, its head almost bald.

It looked dejected under the flashlight's beam.

Upon sensing the light, it slowly opened its eyes, glanced at me, then closed them again and went back to sleep.

This old goat was clearly different from the one I had seen at the window.

Sophia came over, draped a coat over me, and said, "Let's go back inside. It's just an old goat. It's fine."

I nodded and turned to head back inside, but I felt like someone was staring at me again.

I quickly turned my head and shone the flashlight at the old goat, which remained motionless, still asleep.

Back in the room, I sat on the bed and lit a cigarette.

"I still think there's something wrong with that old goat. Maybe we should kill it. We could sell its skin and meat," I suggested to Sophia.

"Let's wait," she said. "They say the older the goat, the more valuable its skin. I heard that someone in the neighboring village killed a 14-year-old goat and sold the skin for a good price. It was bought by a luxury goods store."

My eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yes," she said, taking off her coat and preparing for bed. "Samuel told me that the person made over ten thousand dollars."

"That's not bad at all. Then let's keep the old goat," I agreed.

The next day, Samuel came to our house uninvited.

"Leo, Leo!" he called out as soon as I got up, hearing him in the yard.

"Hold on, Samuel. I'm coming," I said, putting on my clothes and yawning as I walked outside.

"What's up, Samuel? Is there something urgent that you're here so early?"

Samuel pulled me to the door and whispered, "Leo, did something strange happen in your house last night?"

"Nothing that I know of," I replied, still groggy from sleep.

"No, last night my divination compass indicated that there was an evil presence in your home. Think carefully about it."

Samuel was a well-known diviner in the nearby villages, and many people believed his divinations were accurate.

His expression was serious, not like he was joking.

I scratched the back of my head and recounted the incident with the old goat peeking at us the previous night.

Samuel's eyes rolled as he asked, "How long have you raised that old goat?"

"It's been about ten years," I replied.

"Show me," he said, grabbing my hand and leading me to the goat pen.

The old goat was eating its fodder leisurely.

Samuel stared intently at the old goat. "You said that goat stood upright and was peeking at your window yesterday?"

I nodded.

"There's an old legend in our village that says a goat that walks upright must not be kept. And the older the goat, the more likely it is to become an evil spirit," Samuel said, stroking his beard and frowning.

"Really? But didn't you say the skin of an old goat is very valuable?" I asked.

"Even if the skin of an old goat is valuable, it's not as valuable as human life. I suggest you either kill it or sell it as soon as possible," Samuel sighed.

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