Latest / Weird Darkness:True crime & The unexplained / 3 Disturbing TRUE Stories Where Police Couldn't Help

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3 Disturbing TRUE Stories Where Police Couldn't Help · Weird Darkness:True crime & The unexplained

• 0:10
  Speaker 1: This happened in the fall of 2021, when I was
• 0:13
  Speaker 1: living alone in a rented townhouse in southern Illinois. It
• 0:16
  Speaker 1: was my first time ever living by myself, and even
• 0:19
  Speaker 1: though I was technically an adult, 27, with a full-time
• 0:23
  Speaker 1: job and a stable routine, I still had a lot
• 0:25
  Speaker 1: of nerves about the idea. I'd just gone through a
• 0:28
  Speaker 1: rough breakup, and I thought the silence and solitude might
• 0:31
  Speaker 1: help me process everything. The townhouse was part of a
• 0:34
  Speaker 1: small row of identical units, kind of plain but clean
• 0:38
  Speaker 1: and quiet, tucked away in a sleepy cul-de-sac just off
• 0:41
  Speaker 1: a rural highway. The neighborhood had that sterile suburban vibe.
• 0:46
  Speaker 1: Lots of beige vinyl siding, trimmed hedges, wind chimes, and
• 0:50
  Speaker 1: mailboxes with family names stenciled on them. Mostly older folk,
• 0:54
  Speaker 1: but a few young families. I didn't know any of
• 0:57
  Speaker 1: my neighbors well, but I liked it that way. I
• 1:00
  Speaker 1: kept to myself. But almost right away, I noticed one
• 1:03
  Speaker 1: person who stood out from the rest. He lived three
• 1:06
  Speaker 1: doors down. A tall, heavyset man, probably in his mid-forties,
• 1:10
  Speaker 1: with a scruffy beard and a weird habit of standing
• 1:13
  Speaker 1: outside his house at night, sometimes just pacing or smoking,
• 1:17
  Speaker 1: sometimes doing nothing at all, just staring. I'd pull into
• 1:21
  Speaker 1: my driveway after work around 9 or 10 p.m., and
• 1:24
  Speaker 1: there he'd be, leaning against his porch rail or just
• 1:27
  Speaker 1: standing at the edge of his driveway facing the street.
• 1:30
  Speaker 1: He never waved, never smiled. He just stared, even if
• 1:34
  Speaker 1: I looked directly at him. I tried to ignore it.
• 1:38
  Speaker 1: A couple of times I mentioned it to friends or
• 1:40
  Speaker 1: my mom, and they said maybe he was just a
• 1:43
  Speaker 1: night owl or had insomnia, but there was something unsettling
• 1:46
  Speaker 1: about him, like he was always watching but never participating.
• 1:50
  Speaker 1: It wasn't just that he was there, it was the stillness.
• 1:54
  Speaker 1: He didn't fidget or check his phone or shift his weight.
• 1:57
  Speaker 1: He just stood there like a statue. I told myself
• 2:00
  Speaker 1: not to be paranoid, but the more time passed, the
• 2:03
  Speaker 1: more that gnawing feeling in my gut grew. Then the
• 2:07
  Speaker 1: noises started. It was around mid-September when I first heard it.
• 2:11
  Speaker 1: I had just gotten home from work after a long shift.
• 2:15
  Speaker 1: I worked late hours managing inventory at a distribution center,
• 2:19
  Speaker 1: and I usually got in around 10.30pm, exhausted, grabbing a
• 2:22
  Speaker 1: bite to eat, and crashing. That night, I fell asleep
• 2:26
  Speaker 1: around midnight. At exactly 2.37 a.m., I woke up to
• 2:31
  Speaker 1: a sound I can only describe as metal scraping against wood.
• 2:37
  Speaker 1: At first, I thought I had dreamed it, but then
• 2:39
  Speaker 1: I heard it again. A long, slow creaking noise, like
• 2:44
  Speaker 1: an old gate opening. My bedroom was on the first floor,
• 2:47
  Speaker 1: at the back of the unit, and I had a
• 2:49
  Speaker 1: sliding glass door with vertical blinds that led to a small,
• 2:52
  Speaker 1: fenced-in backyard. I sat up in bed, heart racing, and listened.
• 2:58
  Speaker 1: There was a pause. Then I heard footsteps. Soft, crunching sounds,
• 3:03
  Speaker 1: like someone walking slowly across gravel. My entire backyard was
• 3:07
  Speaker 1: lined with decorative rock instead of grass, so you could
• 3:10
  Speaker 1: hear every footstep clearly. These weren't animal sounds. I grabbed
• 3:15
  Speaker 1: my phone and crept out of bed. I didn't have
• 3:18
  Speaker 1: a weapon, just a dull kitchen knife I kept in
• 3:20
  Speaker 1: my nightstand, just in case, which at the time felt
• 3:23
  Speaker 1: kind of ridiculous. I crouched by the edge of the
• 3:26
  Speaker 1: window and peeked through the blinds. I couldn't see anything.
• 3:30
  Speaker 1: The motion light wasn't on, which meant either they were
• 3:33
  Speaker 1: out of range or had come in a different way.
• 3:36
  Speaker 1: I dialed 911. The dispatcher was calm, asked for my address,
• 3:41
  Speaker 1: and told me officers were en route. I stayed crouched
• 3:44
  Speaker 1: in the dark, barely breathing. About ten minutes later, red
• 3:49
  Speaker 1: and blue lights flickered through my front window. I got up,
• 3:53
  Speaker 1: opened the door, and met the two officers outside. I
• 3:56
  Speaker 1: explained everything, what I heard, what time it started. One
• 4:00
  Speaker 1: of them walked around the back while the other stayed
• 4:02
  Speaker 1: with me and asked a few questions. The officer in
• 4:05
  Speaker 1: the yard came back and said the gate was closed
• 4:08
  Speaker 1: and there were no signs of tampering, but said he'd
• 4:10
  Speaker 1: write up a report just in case. They didn't see anyone.
• 4:15
  Speaker 1: No footprints or damage. Basically no crime. One of them
• 4:19
  Speaker 1: actually said, probably just a raccoon, and gave me a
• 4:21
  Speaker 1: look that clearly said, you're wasting our time. I didn't argue.
• 4:26
  Speaker 1: They left after about ten minutes. I didn't sleep the
• 4:29
  Speaker 1: rest of that night. The next morning, I went outside
• 4:32
  Speaker 1: to check the backyard myself. That's when I noticed something strange.
• 4:37
  Speaker 1: There was a flat stone about the size of a
• 4:39
  Speaker 1: paperback book, wedged under the bottom edge of the wooden
• 4:42
  Speaker 1: fence gate. I hadn't noticed it before. The gate had
• 4:46
  Speaker 1: a heavy spring that made it swing closed automatically, but
• 4:49
  Speaker 1: the stone looked like it had been placed there specifically
• 4:52
  Speaker 1: to stop it from closing all the way. It was subtle,
• 4:55
  Speaker 1: like something someone would do if they wanted to come
• 4:58
  Speaker 1: back later and slip in without making noise. I picked
• 5:01
  Speaker 1: up the rock and tossed it across the yard. I
• 5:04
  Speaker 1: called the police again and told them what I'd found.
• 5:07
  Speaker 1: They told me they'd note it in the report, but
• 5:09
  Speaker 1: again said there wasn't much they could do. I asked
• 5:12
  Speaker 1: if they could talk to any of the neighbors or
• 5:14
  Speaker 1: check for cameras. They said no, unless a crime was committed,
• 5:18
  Speaker 1: they couldn't investigate. I felt like I was losing my mind.
• 5:23
  Speaker 1: Two nights later, it escalated. At exactly 2.14am, I woke
• 5:27
  Speaker 1: up again, this time to the sound of my back
• 5:30
  Speaker 1: door handle turning. The handle rattled gently at first, like
• 5:34
  Speaker 1: someone testing it, then a harder jiggle, like someone trying
• 5:37
  Speaker 1: to open it. I sat up in bed, heart hammering.
• 5:43
  Speaker 1: I couldn't see anything through the blinds. but I could
• 5:45
  Speaker 1: feel someone standing on the other side. My mouth went dry.
• 5:50
  Speaker 1: I picked up my phone with shaking hands and called
• 5:52
  Speaker 1: the police again. While I waited, I crouched in the hallway,
• 5:56
  Speaker 1: out of view. I didn't have a gun or dog,
• 5:59
  Speaker 1: just that stupid kitchen knife. My motion light clicked on
• 6:03
  Speaker 1: and threw a tiny gap in the blinds. I saw
• 6:06
  Speaker 1: a shadow move across the window. It was a man.
• 6:09
  Speaker 1: He didn't run or try to hide. He just stood there.
• 6:13
  Speaker 1: The same two officers showed up again. This time, they
• 6:16
  Speaker 1: actually found footprints in the gravel, big ones, heading right
• 6:20
  Speaker 1: up to the door. But again, they said since no
• 6:23
  Speaker 1: entry had been made, there wasn't enough to go on.
• 6:26
  Speaker 1: They promised to patrol the area more often and told
• 6:28
  Speaker 1: me to keep my doors locked. The next day, I
• 6:32
  Speaker 1: installed a camera. It was one of those mid-range Wi-Fi
• 6:35
  Speaker 1: security cams. I set one up above the back door
• 6:39
  Speaker 1: and another above the front porch. That night, I didn't
• 6:42
  Speaker 1: go to bed. I sat in the living room with
• 6:45
  Speaker 1: the lights off, watching the live feed on my phone. 2.14 a.m.
• 6:49
  Speaker 1: came and went. Nothing happened. Then, at 2.23, the back
• 6:54
  Speaker 1: camera triggered. A man stepped into frame. He walked in
• 6:58
  Speaker 1: through the gate like he knew exactly how to move
• 7:01
  Speaker 1: to avoid the motion sensor until the last second. He
• 7:04
  Speaker 1: was tall and broad, wearing a black hoodie with the
• 7:06
  Speaker 1: hood up, jeans, and gloves. He walked up to the door,
• 7:10
  Speaker 1: looked up directly at the camera, and smiled. a slow,
• 7:14
  Speaker 1: stretched-out grin. Then he backed up, still staring, and disappeared
• 7:19
  Speaker 1: into the dark. I called the police again, and they
• 7:22
  Speaker 1: came back, watched the clip, and admitted that yes, it
• 7:25
  Speaker 1: was unsettling. But since he didn't break in, didn't damage property,
• 7:29
  Speaker 1: and didn't appear to be armed, there was still allegedly
• 7:32
  Speaker 1: nothing they could do. They wouldn't even ask the guy
• 7:35
  Speaker 1: down the street to check his doorbell cam. I begged them.
• 7:39
  Speaker 1: They said their hands were tied. That night, I packed
• 7:42
  Speaker 1: a bag and slept at a hotel. When I came
• 7:45
  Speaker 1: back the next day, I found four muddy handprints on
• 7:47
  Speaker 1: the glass door. Too high up and too low, like
• 7:51
  Speaker 1: someone had crouched down and just rested their hands there
• 7:54
  Speaker 1: for a while, staring in. I moved out a week later.
• 7:58
  Speaker 1: I broke my lease and forfeited my deposit. I didn't care.
• 8:02
  Speaker 1: I couldn't stay there another night. The final straw was
• 8:05
  Speaker 1: the note I found wedged in my mailbox the day
• 8:08
  Speaker 1: I left. It was handwritten in small cramped letters on
• 8:12
  Speaker 1: lined notebook paper. It said, the cops leave, but I don't.
• 8:18
  Speaker 1: I filed one last report. The officer I spoke to
• 8:21
  Speaker 1: that time looked genuinely disturbed by the note. He promised
• 8:25
  Speaker 1: they'd do a wellness check on the neighborhood. But it
• 8:28
  Speaker 1: was too late. I never went back. About a month later,
• 8:32
  Speaker 1: I got a message on Facebook from a girl named Kayla.
• 8:36
  Speaker 1: She said she was the new tenant who had moved
• 8:38
  Speaker 1: into the unit after me. Her message said, hi, sorry
• 8:42
  Speaker 1: to bother you. I think you used to live here.
• 8:45
  Speaker 1: Did you ever have someone in a black hoodie hanging
• 8:47
  Speaker 1: around the backyard? I keep hearing footsteps at night, and
• 8:50
  Speaker 1: last night, someone knocked on the glass door around 2am
• 8:53
  Speaker 1: and just stood there. I didn't reply. I didn't want
• 8:57
  Speaker 1: to know what happened next. I work for a property
• 9:09
  Speaker 1: preservation company. Basically, we handle foreclosed homes, securing them, cleaning
• 9:15
  Speaker 1: them out, winterizing them, sometimes even boarding them up if
• 9:18
  Speaker 1: there's been vandalism. It's not glamorous work, but it pays well,
• 9:23
  Speaker 1: and for the most part, it's quiet. You spend a
• 9:26
  Speaker 1: lot of time alone in houses that used to belong
• 9:28
  Speaker 1: to people who are long gone. Sometimes it's sad, sometimes
• 9:31
  Speaker 1: it's just boring, but every once in a while, you
• 9:34
  Speaker 1: get a house that feels unsettling. This happened in 2020.
• 9:39
  Speaker 1: when I was assigned to clear out a property in
• 9:40
  Speaker 1: a rural part of upstate New York. It was one
• 9:43
  Speaker 1: of those dying places, only one gas station, half the
• 9:47
  Speaker 1: businesses shuttered, roads cracked and overgrown. The house itself was
• 9:51
  Speaker 1: a small, one-story place off a dirt road, surrounded by
• 9:55
  Speaker 1: overgrown brush and woods on three sides. No other homes nearby,
• 9:59
  Speaker 1: just trees and silence. According to the file, the house
• 10:04
  Speaker 1: had been foreclosed after the owner, an elderly woman, passed away,
• 10:08
  Speaker 1: and no hares had stepped forward to claim the estate.
• 10:11
  Speaker 1: The utilities had been shut off for over a year.
• 10:14
  Speaker 1: Our job was to catalog any remaining property, empty it out,
• 10:17
  Speaker 1: and secure it for winter. I drove up on a
• 10:20
  Speaker 1: Monday morning around 9 a.m. with a small box truck
• 10:23
  Speaker 1: and all my gear. From the outside, the house looked intact.
• 10:28
  Speaker 1: Windows closed, door locked, roof fine. Just a lot of
• 10:31
  Speaker 1: weeds and vines climbing up the porch. I had to
• 10:35
  Speaker 1: shove the front door open because it had swollen in
• 10:37
  Speaker 1: the frame, but once inside, everything looked pretty standard. It
• 10:41
  Speaker 1: was dusty, stale air and faded furniture. Then my work
• 10:46
  Speaker 1: phone rang. It startled me because I had no signal
• 10:52
  Speaker 1: out there. I'd already checked and noticed I had no bars,
• 10:55
  Speaker 1: but the phone buzzed anyway. There was no number on
• 10:59
  Speaker 1: the caller ID, it just said unknown caller. I answered,
• 11:04
  Speaker 1: and there was nothing. Just a low crackling sound, like static.
• 11:09
  Speaker 1: I said hello twice, then hung up. Chalked it up
• 11:12
  Speaker 1: to a glitch. I got to work. I always start
• 11:16
  Speaker 1: with photos, documenting every room, every item. The living room
• 11:21
  Speaker 1: was cluttered with old furniture. Lace curtains, some framed paintings.
• 11:25
  Speaker 1: It reminded me of my grandma's house. Heavy furniture, doilies,
• 11:30
  Speaker 1: porcelain figures. The hallway had a smell. Not rot, more
• 11:35
  Speaker 1: like mildew and dust, and something faintly metallic. There were
• 11:39
  Speaker 1: three bedrooms. One had been stripped bare except for a
• 11:42
  Speaker 1: sagging mattress on the floor. Another was clearly a sewing room,
• 11:46
  Speaker 1: with thread spools everywhere and a dusty machine on the desk.
• 11:50
  Speaker 1: I took a closer look, and there was a cork
• 11:52
  Speaker 1: board filled with old newspaper clippings, and they were mostly obituaries.
• 11:57
  Speaker 1: Dozens of them, all clipped out with scissors and pinned
• 12:00
  Speaker 1: carefully to the board. No names I recognized, all local.
• 12:05
  Speaker 1: I moved on. In the master bedroom, there was a
• 12:09
  Speaker 1: rotary phone on the nightstand. I remember stopping and staring
• 12:13
  Speaker 1: at it for a second because I hadn't seen one
• 12:14
  Speaker 1: in years. It was off-white, yellowed with age, with a
• 12:19
  Speaker 1: long coiled cord. the kind of phone that would never
• 12:22
  Speaker 1: ring again because the line had been cut long ago.
• 12:25
  Speaker 1: I moved on to the bathroom. That's when my phone
• 12:28
  Speaker 1: rang again. It said unknown caller again. This time, I hesitated.
• 12:37
  Speaker 1: I picked it up, stepped out into the hallway, and answered. Again, nothing.
• 12:43
  Speaker 1: But this time, after about five seconds, I heard a whisper.
• 12:47
  Speaker 1: Very soft, so quiet I could barely make it out.
• 12:51
  Speaker 1: It said, don't answer the phone in the bedroom. Then
• 12:56
  Speaker 1: the line went dead. I stood there, frozen, heart pounding.
• 13:01
  Speaker 1: The house was dead silent. I checked the windows, all closed.
• 13:06
  Speaker 1: Nobody was outside and there was no sign of forced entry.
• 13:10
  Speaker 1: My first thought was that someone had pranked me. It's
• 13:12
  Speaker 1: what anyone would think. Maybe one of the other crew
• 13:15
  Speaker 1: guys was messing with me. But no one else knew
• 13:18
  Speaker 1: I was there that early. And again, I had no signal.
• 13:22
  Speaker 1: I checked my phone. One bar, then nothing. Like it
• 13:26
  Speaker 1: flickered in and out of existence. I tried calling my supervisor,
• 13:31
  Speaker 1: but the call failed. I decided to finish the job quickly.
• 13:35
  Speaker 1: I started boxing up loose items in the living room. Books, figurines,
• 13:39
  Speaker 1: dusty glassware. But the whole time, I felt off. Like
• 13:44
  Speaker 1: I was being watched. I kept glancing toward the hallway,
• 13:47
  Speaker 1: half expecting to see someone standing down there. Then the
• 13:51
  Speaker 1: phone rang a third time. But not my phone. The
• 13:56
  Speaker 1: rotary phone in the bedroom. I heard it from across
• 14:00
  Speaker 1: the house. A shrill, mechanical ring that echoed through the rooms.
• 14:05
  Speaker 1: That phone should have been dead. The line was disconnected.
• 14:09
  Speaker 1: No dial tone and no service. But yet it rang,
• 14:12
  Speaker 1: like an old-fashioned bell. I walked slowly down the hallway
• 14:16
  Speaker 1: toward the bedroom, phone still in my hand. ring again
• 14:20
  Speaker 1: and again. I stepped into the doorway. The phone sat
• 14:25
  Speaker 1: on the nightstand, the receiver trembling slightly with each ring.
• 14:30
  Speaker 1: There was no chance I was picking up that phone.
• 14:33
  Speaker 1: The rings eventually stopped. I backed out of the room.
• 14:37
  Speaker 1: I wanted to leave, but part of my job was
• 14:39
  Speaker 1: securing the property, and I still had to check the basement.
• 14:43
  Speaker 1: I almost said screw it, but something made me keep going.
• 14:47
  Speaker 1: Maybe it was pride. Maybe I just didn't want to
• 14:50
  Speaker 1: admit how scared I was. The basement door was in
• 14:53
  Speaker 1: the kitchen. I opened it slowly. The stairs creaked as
• 14:58
  Speaker 1: I stepped down, flashlight in hand. I smelled mold and
• 15:02
  Speaker 1: something like rust. There were shelves along the wall, filled
• 15:06
  Speaker 1: with old paint cans and some broken furniture. In the
• 15:09
  Speaker 1: back corner, there was a small table. On it, a
• 15:13
  Speaker 1: cordless phone, a newer model. It was gray plastic and
• 15:17
  Speaker 1: covered in dust. and next to it, a stack of
• 15:20
  Speaker 1: yellowed notebooks. I picked one up and flipped through it.
• 15:25
  Speaker 1: Each page had a name and a date and a
• 15:28
  Speaker 1: short sentence. Lena H., July 3rd, 2019, rang once, didn't answer.
• 15:35
  Speaker 1: Carl M., September 12th, 2019, picked up, warned him. It
• 15:41
  Speaker 1: was more like this, dozens of entries. I dropped the notebook,
• 15:45
  Speaker 1: and my heart felt like it completely dropped out of
• 15:47
  Speaker 1: my body. as I looked around the basement, fearing I
• 15:50
  Speaker 1: wasn't alone down there, and that someone was watching me
• 15:53
  Speaker 1: from any corner in the darkness. I rushed back up
• 15:56
  Speaker 1: the stairs, looking behind me the whole time, heart in
• 15:59
  Speaker 1: my throat. I didn't finish the job. I drove straight
• 16:03
  Speaker 1: back to the office and turned in my report. I
• 16:06
  Speaker 1: didn't tell them everything. I just said the property was
• 16:08
  Speaker 1: unsafe and possibly had squatters or interference. They reassigned the
• 16:13
  Speaker 1: job to another crew. Two days later... I got a
• 16:16
  Speaker 1: text from one of the other guys, Mark. He'd gone
• 16:19
  Speaker 1: out there that morning to finish the job. I hadn't
• 16:22
  Speaker 1: told him specifically what happened. His message said, The phone
• 16:27
  Speaker 1: in the bedroom with no service rang while I was
• 16:29
  Speaker 1: in there. What the hell? I called his work cell
• 16:32
  Speaker 1: phone immediately, and he told me he didn't answer the
• 16:35
  Speaker 1: phone in the house because he was too freaked out.
• 16:38
  Speaker 1: The next day, Mark apparently quit without notice and never
• 16:41
  Speaker 1: returned to work. He's not dead or anything. I admittedly
• 16:45
  Speaker 1: looked him up on Facebook eventually, and he'd posted stuff
• 16:48
  Speaker 1: since then, but I never spoke to him again. I
• 16:51
  Speaker 1: don't know what else he saw in the house, but
• 16:53
  Speaker 1: it must have been something bad enough for him to
• 16:55
  Speaker 1: want to distance himself from this job. My boss did
• 16:59
  Speaker 1: call the police to report the potential squatters after Mark quit,
• 17:02
  Speaker 1: but they found nobody inside of the house. Everything about
• 17:06
  Speaker 1: that house, from its location, to its eerie, dilapidated interior,
• 17:09
  Speaker 1: to the phone calls to my cell phone, And that
• 17:12
  Speaker 1: voice on that line, and that damn house phone ringing,
• 17:15
  Speaker 1: it's like I found myself in a legitimate horror movie.
• 17:18
  Speaker 1: I swear it had to be one of two things,
• 17:21
  Speaker 1: an elaborate sick prank, or an equally elaborate trap. This
• 17:35
  Speaker 1: happened in 2019. I was in my late 20s, living
• 17:39
  Speaker 1: alone in a rental house in a quiet neighborhood on
• 17:41
  Speaker 1: the edge of town. It wasn't a fancy place, just
• 17:45
  Speaker 1: an older one-story house with creaky floors, thin walls, and
• 17:48
  Speaker 1: a small backyard. But it was cheap, and it came
• 17:51
  Speaker 1: with a basement, which I used to store extra furniture
• 17:54
  Speaker 1: and tools and stuff. I moved in that spring, and
• 17:57
  Speaker 1: for the first few months, nothing strange happened. The house
• 18:01
  Speaker 1: had its quirks. Some pipes rattled when you turned on
• 18:04
  Speaker 1: the shower, and there was this one kitchen cabinet that
• 18:06
  Speaker 1: always swung open on its own, but nothing unusual for
• 18:09
  Speaker 1: a place that old. The only part I didn't like
• 18:12
  Speaker 1: was the basement. The door was in the hallway next
• 18:15
  Speaker 1: to the bathroom. It was heavy and stuck a little
• 18:18
  Speaker 1: when you opened it, and the light switch for the
• 18:20
  Speaker 1: basement was actually halfway down the stairs, which meant you
• 18:23
  Speaker 1: had to walk down a few steps in total darkness
• 18:25
  Speaker 1: before you could reach it. The first time I went
• 18:28
  Speaker 1: down there, I honestly felt weird. Not scared exactly, but uneasy.
• 18:34
  Speaker 1: The single bulb didn't do much to light the corners,
• 18:37
  Speaker 1: and the whole place smelt like old wood. But I
• 18:39
  Speaker 1: didn't have any reason to be down there for long,
• 18:42
  Speaker 1: so I stored my things, shut the door, and didn't
• 18:44
  Speaker 1: think much of it. That changed around late October. I
• 18:49
  Speaker 1: had just gotten home from work. I'm a night shift
• 18:52
  Speaker 1: security guard, so I usually get home around 3am, and
• 18:55
  Speaker 1: I was heading to the bathroom before bed when I
• 18:57
  Speaker 1: heard something. It sounded like a faint knock. Three soft taps.
• 19:05
  Speaker 1: It came from behind the basement door. I froze in place.
• 19:09
  Speaker 1: At first, I thought maybe I imagined it. Maybe it
• 19:12
  Speaker 1: was the pipes or the house settling. But as I
• 19:15
  Speaker 1: stood there, holding my breath, I heard it again. Three
• 19:19
  Speaker 1: distinct knocks. I backed up a few steps and stared
• 19:23
  Speaker 1: at the door, and then I waited. There was just
• 19:27
  Speaker 1: silence now. I remember whispering to myself, It's just the house,
• 19:32
  Speaker 1: even though I didn't really believe it. I didn't open
• 19:34
  Speaker 1: the door. I went to my bedroom, locked the door,
• 19:37
  Speaker 1: and stayed awake for the next two hours, listening. Eventually,
• 19:41
  Speaker 1: I fell asleep with the TV on. The next morning,
• 19:45
  Speaker 1: I checked the basement. I opened the door, went down
• 19:48
  Speaker 1: the stairs, and turned on the light. Everything was exactly
• 19:51
  Speaker 1: the way I left it. No signs of anyone having
• 19:54
  Speaker 1: been down there. No footprints in the dust, no broken windows.
• 19:59
  Speaker 1: I convinced myself it had to be the house shifting,
• 20:01
  Speaker 1: or maybe a small animal that got in somehow. I
• 20:04
  Speaker 1: moved on. But a few nights later, it happened again.
• 20:09
  Speaker 1: This time, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth
• 20:12
  Speaker 1: when I heard the knock. Not three taps this time,
• 20:17
  Speaker 1: just one, but it was loud, and it was close,
• 20:20
  Speaker 1: like someone had used their knuckles hard against the basement door.
• 20:24
  Speaker 1: I opened the bathroom door and looked. The basement door
• 20:27
  Speaker 1: was closed. Nothing moved. The hallway was quiet. I walked
• 20:33
  Speaker 1: over and put my ear against the wood. At first,
• 20:36
  Speaker 1: I heard nothing, but then... Very faint, I heard what
• 20:40
  Speaker 1: sounded like breathing. Slow, steady, as if someone was standing
• 20:49
  Speaker 1: on the other side, waiting. I backed away and went
• 20:52
  Speaker 1: to my room, again locking the door. I called my landlord.
• 20:57
  Speaker 1: I told him something strange was going on in the basement,
• 20:59
  Speaker 1: that I thought someone had maybe gotten into the house somehow.
• 21:02
  Speaker 1: He seemed skeptical, but said he'd come by to check
• 21:04
  Speaker 1: it out. When he arrived in the morning, We both
• 21:08
  Speaker 1: went down into the basement together. He looked around, checked
• 21:11
  Speaker 1: the windows, the walls, even the foundation. Nothing was damaged
• 21:15
  Speaker 1: or broken. No signs of a break-in or animals. I
• 21:20
  Speaker 1: didn't say anything. I couldn't explain what I was hearing
• 21:23
  Speaker 1: and I didn't want to sound crazy. For the next week,
• 21:26
  Speaker 1: things were quiet. I started to think that maybe I
• 21:29
  Speaker 1: was just overtired or imagining things. I was working too
• 21:32
  Speaker 1: much after all. But then, one night around 2am, I
• 21:37
  Speaker 1: was sitting on my couch watching TV when I heard
• 21:39
  Speaker 1: the basement door creak. Not a knock or slam, but
• 21:43
  Speaker 1: a creak, like it was slowly swinging open. I sat
• 21:47
  Speaker 1: up straight and turned off the volume. I could hear it.
• 21:51
  Speaker 1: A slow, grinding creak of the hinges moving. I got
• 21:55
  Speaker 1: up and peeked down the hallway, and the basement door
• 21:57
  Speaker 1: was wide open. I hadn't opened it in over a week.
• 22:02
  Speaker 1: I hadn't even touched it. I grabbed a flashlight and
• 22:05
  Speaker 1: slowly walked toward it I didn't have a weapon, but
• 22:08
  Speaker 1: I had no choice. I had to know what was
• 22:11
  Speaker 1: going on. I stood at the top of the stairs
• 22:14
  Speaker 1: and shined the light down. The basement was pitch black.
• 22:17
  Speaker 1: The bulb wasn't on. I reached around the corner and
• 22:20
  Speaker 1: flicked the switch. Nothing. It was dead. The bulb must
• 22:25
  Speaker 1: have burned out. That's when I heard footsteps coming up
• 22:28
  Speaker 1: the stairs. They weren't rushing. They were slow, but they
• 22:31
  Speaker 1: were 100% footsteps. I backed away. My hands were shaking.
• 22:37
  Speaker 1: I slammed the door shut and held the handle tight.
• 22:40
  Speaker 1: For a moment, I felt the pressure of something on
• 22:42
  Speaker 1: the other side, like it was leaning against the door.
• 22:46
  Speaker 1: Then it stopped. I locked the door and called the police.
• 22:50
  Speaker 1: I told them someone was in my basement. They showed
• 22:53
  Speaker 1: up about ten minutes later, and two officers cleared the
• 22:56
  Speaker 1: house and went down into the basement. I stood in
• 22:58
  Speaker 1: the front yard, waiting, and after what felt like forever,
• 23:02
  Speaker 1: they came back up. They said they didn't find anyone.
• 23:06
  Speaker 1: No signs of forced entry or anyone hiding. Nothing was
• 23:09
  Speaker 1: even disturbed. One of them even tried to laugh it off,
• 23:12
  Speaker 1: asking if I'd been watching scary movies. I knew what
• 23:15
  Speaker 1: I heard. After they left, I didn't go back inside
• 23:19
  Speaker 1: right away. I just stood there, staring at that house. Finally,
• 23:23
  Speaker 1: I went back in, locked every door and window, and
• 23:26
  Speaker 1: stayed up until the sun came up. That morning, I
• 23:30
  Speaker 1: bought a padlock and installed it on the basement door.
• 23:33
  Speaker 1: I didn't care if it was allowed or not. I
• 23:35
  Speaker 1: needed it. For the next month, the basement stayed quiet.
• 23:39
  Speaker 1: No sounds or knocks or anything. I almost let myself relax.
• 23:44
  Speaker 1: Then one night, I got home from work and noticed
• 23:47
  Speaker 1: the basement door was open. Not just unlocked, the padlock
• 23:52
  Speaker 1: was lying on the floor, broken. The door itself was
• 23:55
  Speaker 1: slightly ajar. I hadn't touched that door in weeks. I
• 23:59
  Speaker 1: stood there, staring at it, and for the first time,
• 24:02
  Speaker 1: I realized something. Every time this had happened, every noise
• 24:06
  Speaker 1: and every knock, it had always happened at night when
• 24:09
  Speaker 1: I was alone. I did not go down. I couldn't.
• 24:13
  Speaker 1: I packed a bag, left the house, and stayed at
• 24:15
  Speaker 1: a friend's place for a few days. When I came back,
• 24:19
  Speaker 1: I literally nailed the basement door shut. I even wedged
• 24:22
  Speaker 1: a chair against the door. I didn't care if the
• 24:24
  Speaker 1: landlord got mad. I just couldn't look at that door anymore.
• 24:28
  Speaker 1: A few nights later, around 3 a.m., I was laying
• 24:31
  Speaker 1: in bed when I heard a sound that I still
• 24:33
  Speaker 1: can't explain. It was a voice. It wasn't loud. It
• 24:38
  Speaker 1: wasn't even someone speaking, like the barely audible sound of
• 24:41
  Speaker 1: a rumble of someone's vocal cords. It came from somewhere
• 24:44
  Speaker 1: beneath the floorboards, directly under my bed. That was it.
• 24:49
  Speaker 1: I called the police again. They showed up, did their search,
• 24:53
  Speaker 1: and nothing turned up again. So I packed everything, minus
• 24:56
  Speaker 1: the stuff in the basement, and I left. I didn't
• 24:59
  Speaker 1: even wait for the lease to end. I don't know
• 25:02
  Speaker 1: what was in that basement. I don't want to know.
• 25:04
  Speaker 1: All I can say is that sometimes when I lie
• 25:06
  Speaker 1: awake at night in my new apartment, I think about
• 25:09
  Speaker 1: all of this, and I wonder if I'd waited just
• 25:11
  Speaker 1: a little longer, what would have come up those steps?