10 Scariest TRUE Stories of 2025

Back in 2017, I had moved to a smaller town in rural Illinois, and I only knew one person in town. I'm a bit of an introvert, so I had a hard time making friends, especially being single and in my early 20s, living in a town filled with a population that was mostly retired. My friend, who I'll call Clara, introduced me to an older couple that were maybe in their early 50s and were Looking for a dog sitter. She thought it would be a good way for me to make some connections while living there. We had

made time to meet at their house so I could see the lay of the land and meet the dogs. The home was a ' 70s brick ranch style, severely outdated and slightly falling apart in some places. I explored abandoned houses for fun, so I didn't mind. The dogs were sweet, but as for the couple, they were odd. They were friendly enough, but while I'd be Speaking to them, instead of making eye contact, they'd be doing more of a full body scan as if sizing me up. They would also guide me to rooms and not really

say anything on the tour. Just open the doors and let me look and then close them. I should also mention they sell firearms out of their home as a side business, which I didn't really mind, but they had cameras everywhere, outside and in hallways, living room, kitchen, office, garage, backyard, driveway, Kitchen table, etc. They told me it was just for insurance purposes due to their business. It made me a little uncomfortable, but I was just really hoping to make some sort of connection in this town and some money. Then the time came for me to

come and watch the dogs. They'd been gone for a week and I'd been working from home, so I made myself comfortable. I set up my workspace in their office, which had a monitor that had cameras Outside displayed so I could see all around the house, which was kind of nice because I felt a little at ease being alone on a decentsized property in the middle of nowhere. I should also note the dogs had a doggy door so they could go outside 24/7 and the house backed up to the woods. First night was fine. Second night,

I noticed one of the cameras went offline that watched the driveway. I didn't think much of it as Wi-Fi out in rural Areas is finicky, but I still went and checked just in case maybe the camera fell or something. As I walked to the door, I heard the dogs get off the ground and scrambled frantically to run out the doggy door and start barking like crazy. Mind you, it's about 10 at night, so I got freaked out and wanted to get the dogs to come back inside. So, I made my way to the back door

and noticed the dogs were both barking like crazy at the same spot at the part of The fence that backs up to the woods. I didn't see anything, but I'd seen enough horror movies to where I was starting to psych myself out, and I had to find a way to calm down and get the dogs in. So, treats it was. I got them back in and blocked off the doggy door with a chair that weighed a decent amount and called it a night. Next morning, I woke up late and threw myself off and had to

start working before I could feed the dogs. But then I noticed they weren't at The front of the bed anymore. The house was quiet. I got up and called their names and they didn't respond. So, I walked to the back door and they were in the yard just doing their thing. Then it hit me. How did they get outside when I blocked the door? My heart sank and I felt all the blood rush from my head as I turned to my right to see the chair that I had pushed in front of the doggy door

now was sitting in the corner of the room. Panic set in immediately and I Called my friend Clara to explain the situation and that I needed her to come here ASAP to do a walkthrough of the house with me because I just knew there was no way the dogs could move that chair 5 plus feet. She came over about 20 minutes later and I made a beline for the front door and let her in. We both went room by room and couldn't find anything or [music] anyone. It just didn't make any sense. She tried to

reassure me that maybe I didn't have it Pushed over as much as I thought I did. I figured I just accept it for what it was and just pushed through on overly high alert for the next 4 days. Clara left and I went [music] back to work. The day was fine and quiet and I began to relax again. I finished making dinner and decided to get some work done. I sat down in the office and just happened to turn to look at the monitor with the camera views on it and noticed all of them were

offline. My stomach Dropped. I knew one going out was possible, but all four. That was just too coincidental. Due to the nature of the business the couple ran, I texted them to let them know their cameras were down, and if they wanted me to try and troubleshoot it for them, I'd be happy to. Also, because I didn't like not having eyes on the outside of this place. A couple hours went by and no response. They're on vacation after all, so I just figured I'd have to let it go And suck it up until they get

back to me. It was late, close to midnight, when I finally settled in and was watching TV to fill the void of silence that surrounded me when I heard the dogs get up and scramble to the doggy door again. I shot up and out of bed, my heart pounding out of my chest because I knew something was wrong. I grabbed the knife I had sitting next to the bed and walked to the back door, looking out into the yard and couldn't see anything. The dogs Had already stopped barking and were now just sniffing along the

fence. I did that whisper yell to get them to come back in when I heard a thump come from the other side of the house. Frozen, I had to make a decision fast. Try to get the dogs in or investigate whatever the hell just fell. I got the dogs in just in case it was some animal they were after. I didn't want them to get skunk sprayed or something. They wandered into the living room and hopped on the Couches and I slid the chair back in front of the door. I took a picture with my

phone this time just so I could reassure myself I did it. I made my way to the back room where I heard the thump noise and I immediately froze. I'm not sure if anyone else can understand, but when there's a presence in the room, there's almost this small difference in the atmosphere. There's a white noise, not breathing or movement, just a break in the stagnance [music] of The silence. Well, regardless if you don't, I felt it. I wasn't going to be that person that kept seeking out the exact area of where this was coming from.

So, I asked, "Who's there? What are you doing here?" Silence. I then called out the names of the couple that lived there to see if for some wild reason they were in their own home at midnight when they weren't supposed to be, but again met with silence. Clara has a kid and husband, so I didn't want To bother her. So, I figured the next thing I would do was call the police. But then I felt that wash of embarrassment in case it was nothing. They'd think I'm an idiot. I stepped back into the hallway that

led to the room and slowly closed the door as quiet as possible and locked the door. I went and sat in the living room with the dogs with my phone in one hand and knife in the other. I couldn't make a decision on what to do. About 20 minutes went by and I received a text from the wife saying, "Hi, don't worry about the cameras. You're safe." I was thrown off because they were in Florida and it was almost 2:00 in the morning there. And also, "What do you mean I'm safe?" I didn't even mention

safety being the issue. I was getting ready to give a general sounds good text when I got another text from the wife. It read, "Also, can you make sure that I didn't leave the garage door open to the inside? I don't want Anything getting in. The door she's mentioning is in that back room. I didn't want to go back in there for obvious reasons, so I just didn't respond and pretended like I was asleep and couldn't. 2 minutes later, she texted again. Hi, I know it's late, but can you please check on this for me

as I'm worried? My gut was screaming no, but maybe the noise was a wild animal that got in. I didn't respond, but got up to go check, knife and phone in hand Still. [music] As I approached the door, I heard a shuffle from the back room. I stopped and stood there silent to see if I heard anything else before I opened the door. My phone lit up and she texted me, "I see you're [music] up. Can you please go in and check?" I couldn't move. I forgot they had cameras in the hallway and in the

living room. Why were they pushing this at 1:00 in the morning? Now knowing I was being watched, reluctantly, I Slowly unlocked the door and [music] opened it with my arms stretched as far as I could to get an open view of the room from as far as possible. I didn't hear anything or see anything. So, I took a couple steps into the room and saw the door to the garage was in fact open. It was so damn dark in there, I didn't want to get any closer, but I had to do it and just get

this over with. I approached the door and a light appeared from my phone as I had gotten a Notification. and the faint light from my phone lit a portion of the garage doorway I was about two steps from when I noticed the outline of an arm pressed against the wall right next to the door. Fight or flight kicked in immediately. I turned and ran back through the doorway and slammed the door [music] to the back room shut and locked it. I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter and ran out the front door. I fumbled

with the keys as I was shaking and panting and I got The door unlocked when I noticed the garage door was opening and halfway up. I started my car and as the headlights lit up the now opened garage, I saw in the back corner a grown man in a jacket squatting behind a box right next to the door I was going to close. I didn't waste time and floored in reverse down the driveway and drove immediately to the police station. I was crying and explained what happened and they said they'd send a unit to check

out the House. I sat in my car at the police station texting the wife about what just happened, seeing as they had access to the cameras and could maybe see if someone was in there. No response. About a half hour later, the police officer came back to the station and let me know the garage door was open, but the house was clear and there was no signs of a break-in. They even checked around the perimeter of the yard and nothing was out of the ordinary. They Knew I was scared out of my mind, so they

offered to follow me back and do another check with me there. After it was done and I saw with my own eyes no one was there, they left. I couldn't sleep. It was going on almost 3:00 or 4 in the morning at this point. So, I just laid on the couch by the dogs, wide awake, gripping the kitchen knife. About 20 minutes after the officer left, I got a text from the wife. Hi, plans changed. We'll be home soon. You can go home now. The complete disregard for the situation that just unfolded that I texted

her about the letting me know you're coming home 4 days early and didn't mention it and will be here just hours after all of this. I didn't dwell on the moment. I grabbed my stuff and left. Their home is on a rural road, but only about a/4 mile from the main street. As I got halfway to the stop sign and looked in my rearview mirror, I saw a car with no headlights on pull into their driveway. I texted the wife and said, "Someone just pulled into your driveway as I was leaving." Almost instantly, I got

a text back that read, "I know." Chills ran down my spine. They were setting me up. They had been in the area that whole time. The dogs barking in the middle of the night were probably alerting me that they had been driving on the path behind the house. They shut the cameras off so I couldn't see their creeping movements on the property while I was right there inside, oblivious. I never heard from them again. My friend profusely apologized, saying she had no idea how weird they were and that she'd only known them as coming into

the local diner every now and then. She said after that incident, they never came in again. I'm 30 now and I still have trouble with the entire situation. I know I'm okay and I'm safe, but knowing I was just seconds away from god knows what is a feeling I can't seem to shake and not Sure if I ever will be able to. I work as a bartender at a bar and restaurant in a suburb just outside Baltimore. I'll do my best to explain the layout so the story makes sense. It's a busy place with a

unique setup. There are no waiters, just bartenders like me and the cooks in the back. If you want to find food or non-alcoholic drinks, you have to order them at the bar. And when everything's ready, you grab it from the counter. I'm not sure Why things are done that way, but I guess it had something to do with management being cheap and trying to avoid hiring waiters. Either way, it keeps things fast-paced, which I actually like. For whatever reason, the place is really popular, even though I personally don't think it's anything super special. The atmosphere

is lively most nights with great music, a buzzing crowd, and a standing area near the DJ booth where people gather to dance and Chat. The constant flow of customers and the high energy vibe make the job fly by. I love meeting and talking to new people, so the gig is perfect for me. I would probably lose my mind if I had to wait long periods of time between serving guests, but that's just me. I bet some people are the opposite. That particular night started off like any other. It was a weekend, so things were going

to be super busy. I was ready. After a certain time, the bar started Filling up with people. It looked like more of a younger college crowd that night, which meant more dancing, more spilling, and a rowdier environment in general. Oh, yeah, and worse tips, which kind of sucked for me. This one group of kids just kept on ordering round after round of tequila shots faster than I could line up the salt and limes. It's always chaos when they take over the bar. One of them was so plastered, he was the same pickup line on me

like Three times. I was running around doing my thing when I noticed an elderly couple walk in and sit down at the booth in the corner of the restaurant. At first glance, there was nothing strange about them. I just thought it was interesting that two people that age would want to come into a rowdy place like this. I didn't have too much time to think about it, though, so I went back to work. Fast forward maybe 30 minutes to an hour. I was halfway Through pouring a line of ginonics when I noticed the couple again.

My hands kept working, muscle memory taking over, but my brain was stuck on them for some reason. That's when it hit me. They were just sitting there motionlessly. They hadn't ordered anything either. No food and definitely not any drinks. I would have remembered. I looked a little closer and realized that they weren't even looking at each other. They were both fixated at the wall next to them. From what I could tell, it didn't look like they were talking either. It was the strangest thing. I was beyond curious, but the bar was slanted and I had

too much to do to spend time wondering about it. I figured they might be waiting for someone or didn't realize how the place worked. Maybe they were waiting for a waiter to take their order. When I finally had a break, I decided to check on them myself. I walked over to the table and put on my Most polite smile. As I approached, neither of them turned to face me. They were both still staring at the wall like statues. I cleared my throat and asked him if they wanted anything to eat or drink. The woman didn't

even flinch. She kept staring at the wall like I hadn't spoken at all. The man turned his head slowly like he was moving in slow motion. When his face came into view, I felt a chill run through me. His skin was pale and wrinkled, and his eyes were Almost sunken into his face completely. [music] He didn't speak, just stared at me and shook his head once, firmly but silently. Something about the way he looked at me made my stomach twist. I muttered something in response and quickly returned to the bar. I had the weirdest feeling

in my gut after that. Those people looked like they didn't even belong in this century, let alone this bar. I didn't look over at that booth for a long time. Eventually, things started to die down a little, and I remembered the couple. I glanced over impulsively, and I nearly dropped the glass I was holding. Both of them were staring directly at me. out. I made direct eye contact with the woman, but she never averted her gaze. I don't think I'd ever been more uncomfortable at my job than I was in that moment. I looked away

and pretended to be busy, trying not to Freak out completely. By the time I glanced back again, the booth was empty. I was relieved. I was just glad that they were gone, as mean as that sounds. By the end of the night, I was still thinking about the whole thing. As I wiped down the bar and closed up with my coworker Karen, I decided to ask her if she saw anything strange. She's, I guess, what you would call a vet. She's been working there for years and prides herself on noticing Everything and everyone that comes

through the doors. When I asked her about the couple, she gave me a confused look and said she didn't know what I was talking about. I looked at her blankly and told her I was talking about the elderly couple that was sitting in the corner booth. She shook her head and told me she didn't remember seeing anyone like that. She then jokingly asked me if I was hallucinating, which got a playful laugh out of me, but on The inside though, I was losing it. I knew what I had seen. I asked her if she was

sure, and she crossed her arms before listing at least 10 random people who had ordered food that night and what they were wearing. I laughed again and complimented her memory. But like I said before, I was dying on the inside. By the time we locked up, I started doubting myself. As I walked to my car, I noticed something that made me nearly drop my keys in fear. Across the street, There were two dark figures standing under a lone street light. I [music] knew it was them. I wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn't come. I

didn't wait another second. I jumped into my car, locked the doors, and sped out of the lot without another look. The drive home was awful. I was trying not to break down the whole time. I just kept repeating, "Oh my god," over and over. I had so many questions. Had Karen somehow missed them? Were those people Even real? Was I going insane? I couldn't explain it. I thought I was going crazy. I wish this story had a resolved ending, but it doesn't. I never saw those people again. I never got any kind of explanation. I

don't think I ever will. I apologize in advance if I mess up any details about the story I'm about to tell. This is something that my best friend told me multiple times several years ago now. It's one of those stories So unsettling you can't shake it even after hearing it more than once. My friend's dad was a logger, specifically a tree saw operator. For those who don't know, a tree saw is a massive machine capable of cutting down giant trees and slicing them to specific lengths. His job meant long, grueling hours, often alone in the

deep, secluded forests of the Pacific Northwest. The way his logging crew worked, he was paid based on the number of trees he cut down Rather than the hours he worked. So, he would often push himself to work 16 to 20our days to finish jobs as quickly as possible. After he and his coworker finished their part, the rest of the crew would come in to clear the felled trees and transport them to the mill. While he spent about half of his time working alone, the other half was spent with his friend Griffin, another tree saw operator.

They used radios to communicate, especially when they worked On opposite ends of the same job site. A number of years ago, my friend's dad and Griffin were assigned to a remote job site high up on a mountain. It took the company over 3 weeks just to clear a road wide enough for their trucks and equipment to make it to the site. By the time they began work, they were positioned in an extremely desolate part of the mountain. They were already 10 days in making good progress when they started hearing strange chatter over Their radios. At

first, the voices were muffled, just faint, static laden murmurs that didn't make sense. They tried switching channels, but no matter what they did, the chatter followed them. Anyone who's used a standard radio knows how strange that is. It should be impossible for anyone to follow you when you're switching channels. As they progressed farther up the mountain, the voices became more distinct. They couldn't hear Full conversations, but based on what they could hear, they both agreed that the tone of the conversation fragments felt off. My friend's dad said it sounded almost casual at times, but the

content was unintelligible. They also started finding strange signs that people had been there before them. Random containers, footprints in the dirt, and small makeshift campsites. Like I said before, they were in a place so remote it was practically Inaccessible. So, these discoveries were deeply unsettling. No one should have been up there. One day, Griffin came across a tent hidden just off a trail and called my friend's dad over. They decided to investigate. Inside, they found a single sleeping bag and a duffel bag filled with the most disturbing things imaginable. Multiple pairs of children's underwear, duct

tape, rope, and crude sketches of children being molested. There were even photos of a Fresh apple indicating whoever owned it had been there recently. Griffin wanted to pack up and leave immediately. My friend's dad, ever the workaholic, insisted they finish the job. They agreed to limit radio communication to emergencies only and decided to keep working. That night, they sat in the camper, unable to shake the dread that hung over them. The radio crackled to life again, and this time they could make out snippets of a conversation Between two men. They were talking about mundane things,

collecting water and firewood. But the realization that these men were likely connected to the tent freaked my friend's dad out. Griffin wasn't as phased, but my friend's dad was losing it. The next night, my friend's dad decided to confront them. When he heard the men talking about gathering bush for a fire, he grabbed the radio and demanded to know who they were and what they were doing there. The Radio went silent immediately, and the men didn't respond. That silence was almost more unnerving than the chatter. Griffin was upset that my friend's dad had announced their

presence, and the two of them got into a brief argument before deciding they'd escalate the situation the next day. Around midnight, Griffin shook my friend's dad awake, whispering that someone was outside the camper. The first thing he noticed was the soft sound of footsteps crunching on The gravel outside. Heart pounding, he fumbled for his gun, only to realize it wasn't loaded. He had no idea where his ammunition was. Griffin was unarmed and the idea of calling the police was laughable given their location. They both sat frozen as they heard the camper door handle jiggle. The

door creaked open but didn't fully swing inward. Their camper was high off the ground and there was no ladder or stool to climb up. Then came the Scratching. Long deliberate scratches along the outside of the door. Four agonizing minutes passed. Finally, my friend's dad nodded at Griffin, signaling he was going to check it out. He moved quietly toward the door, gripping a flashlight in his shaking hand. Just as he reached the door, it burst open and he was struck across the face with a knife. His pain was blinding. He fell out of the camper, hitting

the ground hard. Before He could recover, a man was on top of him, pressing the knife against his neck. Another man appeared, kicking him repeatedly in the head. Griffin without hesitation leapt out of the camper and tackled the man with a knife. The second man bolted into the darkness and the one Griffin had tackled scrambled to his feet and followed. They disappeared into the forest. Griffin helped my dad's friend back into the truck and they drove 2 hours to the nearest hospital. It was bad. His face was a bloody mess and there was a cut

across his eyes so severe it permanently damaged his vision. They reported the attack to the police, but nothing came of it. Two weeks later, as the rest of the logging crew finished the job, one of their co-workers was found bound, gagged, raped, and murdered in a ditch. No arrests were ever made. To this day, my friend's dad struggles with PTSD. His right eye, with its defigured pupil, Constantly reminds him of that night. I'm sure he hasn't had a full night of restful sleep since. I've been terrified of deep woods for a long time now, mostly

because of my friend's dad's experience. I haven't heard from my friend or his dad in years now, so I can only hope he's doing all right. This happened last summer. I was 20 years old. My name is Kevin. My friend James comes from a very wealthy family. His dad is like an IP lawyer who contracts with the US government or something. They've got a bunch of properties all over the country and a handful of international ones, too. That's the kind of wealth I'm talking about. One of their houses is on a relatively large, but overall

pretty secluded lake. The lake itself isn't so big that you can't see the houses on the other side of it, but it would be a workout and a half swimming across the Whole thing. James parents were never around, so he pretty much had unlimited access to that house, and he often invited friends over with permission, of course. There's something about being out on the lake that makes you feel invincible. It's a different feeling than the beach for sure. I'm not really sure how to explain it, but there's more of an exclusive vibe to it. Hopefully,

I can be successful enough to afford one one Day. Like I said, the lake itself is pretty secluded. Big fancy houses line the perimeter, but most of them would usually sit dark and empty. A lot of them were vacation homes for people who barely even used them. It's honestly kind of a shame thinking about it. There are upsides to that, though. James would throw the craziest parties there because there were usually no neighbors to call the police. This night was different, though. It was just the two of us, Having a more chill night. I won't

get into it, but I had just broken up with my girlfriend of 3 years, and I was in dire need of some bro time. We were having a few beers out on the dock when I noticed a light flicking across the lake. I can't remember exactly what time it was. At first, I thought it was just the sun perfectly reflecting off something into my eye. But even when I moved my head to the side, I could still see it. It was flashing like someone was Turning a light on and off repeatedly. I told James and

the two of us became fixed on it, trying to figure out what it could be. At some point, we realized the flashing wasn't random. It was following a pattern. Three short bursts followed by three longer ones followed by three short ones. I guess I'm dumb for not knowing this, but James snapped his fingers and said it was Morse code. I looked at him like he was crazy and asked him when in the world he had Learned Morse code. He told me he didn't actually know it, but he knew what three short, three long, three short

meant. SOS. I called BS and pulled out my phone, but to my surprise, he was actually right. Like I said, maybe I'm dumb for not knowing that, but I'm not really one for obscure knowledge anyway. The flashing continued for another minute or so, following that same pattern before stopping abruptly. The Two of us had just been staring at it the whole time. I really didn't know what to think. It could have been a joke, but there was always that chance that someone was actually in trouble. James immediately suggested calling the cops, but I reminded him

that we'd been drinking and we weren't legal yet. I was honestly fighting a DUI charge at the time, so the last thing I needed was another run-in with the police. He wasn't thrilled about that answer, and I Could tell he was torn about the situation. The two of us couldn't really think of a rational explanation besides a kidnapping or something along those lines. We thought it might have been someone who had fallen and needed help, but that didn't make any sense because they probably would have just called the police. We've always been those adventurous, delinquent

type guys, so we decided it was worth checking out ourselves. If it turned out to be Serious, we'd call the police. Then we went back inside. James brother had a bunch of switchblades lying around his room. He was kind of a weird kid, so we grabbed a few of them just for peace of mind. James said he was good to drive and that we should drive around the lake to that house, but I told him I really wasn't comfortable with that for obvious reasons. He joked about my situation and I laughed it off. If we

weren't driving, there was only really one other option. The two of us walked back out to the yard and dragged James dad's kayak into the water. We were laughing at first, enjoying the adventure of it all, but the further out we got onto the lake, the quieter we got. I think both of us realized how dumb of an idea it was, but neither of us wanted to be the one to spoil the fun. The sun had almost fully set at that point, and it was getting harder to see. It wasn't pitch black or anything. We

had light from some of the Lakeouses to guide us, but it was still a bit unsettling. As we got closer, the house came into view. It was big like the others, but it was obviously not maintained very well. For starters, the dock was half collapsed, literally. Half of it was just sunken into the water. The flashing had also stopped, which was kind of a bad sign, too. We had planned on just tying the kayak to the dock, but we obviously couldn't do that anymore given how unstable it looked. Luckily, The yard wasn't too high up

above the water, so we beached the kayak on the yard instead. Careful not to slip on the rocks. I felt the adrenaline rush start coming on. I could tell James was feeling the same thing. We looked up toward the house. The light had been coming from the second floor. That much we knew. James was freaking out at that point and insisted that we just leave and call the police. I told him we'd have to kayak all the way back to his House to even do that as there was no service on the lake and that

we need to connect to Wi-Fi. I reminded him that we had explored a million abandoned buildings before and this wasn't too different. He wasn't thrilled with that logic, but agreed anyway. Believe me, I know how dumb this was. Everyone I talked to about this shares that same opinion, but I've never been one to make good decisions, and neither is James. We didn't walk to the front door. That Would have been suicide. Instead, we crept around the house until we found a window that was unlocked. The two of us silently slipped inside. The house was empty.

not just abandoned, but empty, like stripped. There was no furniture and no junk in there either. To be frank, there was no signs that anyone had ever even lived there. The floors and walls were completely bare. We moved cautiously through the rooms, looking for the stairs. There was no one in Sight, and all the rooms were just as empty as the first one had been. We finally found the stairs and slowly made our way up. I had made a mental note of where the window was and we slowly walked down one of the hallways until

we got to what I guessed was the room the light had been coming from. I pressed my ear against the door and heard nothing. I glanced over at James. He nodded and I carefully pushed the door open. The room was empty with the exception of one Thing by the window. I tiptoed over to it and realized what it was. It was one of those old projectors and it was facing the window. Alarm bells immediately started going off in my head. This was a trap. Someone had set this up deliberately. James must have realized the same

thing because I just heard him start sprinting back the way we had came, not even trying to be quiet. I turned without another thought and followed him. As we Were running down the stairs, I heard a door, presumably a closet door, swing open from the room I had just been in, followed by rapid thumping sounds. We bolted down the stairs and back through the house to that first window. James jumped through and I was next. As I was climbing through, I heard those footsteps from behind me again, bounding down the stairs. I didn't even look.

I just made it through the window and ran to catch up with James, who was already Down by the lakes's edge. As I was running to catch up to him, I heard him curse and I quickly realized why. The kayak was gone. I turned and from the side of the house, there was a person running toward us. I could barely process what I was seeing. He was fast. I couldn't get a good look at him, but he was big, definitely an adult. I pulled out my switchblade, ready to defend myself. I expected James to do

the same, but instead, he turned and Jumped straight into the lake. Sneakers, hoodie, everything. I didn't even think. I just followed. The water was freezing, but I didn't care. I swam as fast as I could, trying to fight the burning sensation in my arms and legs. We swam toward the light from James house, which looked like it was miles away. The swim felt endless, but on pure adrenaline, we made it. By the time we dragged ourselves onto James dock, I thought I had hypothermia. I don't think I've ever Been that cold in my life. We

ran straight inside, locked every door, and called the police. It took them almost an hour to show up. It was honestly kind of outrageous. When they finally did, they went straight across the lake to investigate. They were over there for a while, but when they came back, they told us exactly what I expected to hear, that there was no one. They confirmed this house had been abandoned for years. No signs of recent Occupancy, no footprints, no gear, no personal belongings, nothing. just an empty house. They weren't happy with us. They gave us the whole why

didn't you call first speech. James' parents were even more pissed when they found out. Let's just say I wasn't invited back to the lake house after that. James told me his parents were threatening to sue the town for allowing something like that to happen and the police for refusing to investigate further. As for me, I still Don't know what happened that night. I don't know who was in that house or why they set that trap or what they planned to do if we hadn't run. I don't think I want to. Most of my friends agree

that it was a trap and think that whoever was planning the whole thing got cold feet until the last minute. I really don't want to think about what would have happened if they had gone through with whatever they were planning on doing. When I moved into my new place, I was Just looking for a fresh start. I won't get into the details, but let's just say I had a bad situation with an ex that made staying in my old city impossible. I ran into some money early in life and made some bad decisions about the

kind of women I surrounded myself with. Lesson learned. The neighborhood I moved to is really nice, low crime, quiet, mostly families. The houses here are really spaced out, which was partially what drew me there. But for some reason, The property next to mine is much closer in proximity than most of the other properties are to each other. And by the way, that house next door is huge. When I first saw it, I thought I could easily fit a family of 10. That's honestly what I assumed at first, that a big family lived there, grandparents and

everything. But I could not have been more wrong. Even though I tried to be low-key, I wasn't going to be a rude neighbor. I took it upon myself to Introduce myself to everyone in the neighborhood. For whatever reason, I decided to introduce myself to my next door neighbors last. I couldn't tell you why. Everyone else I met seemed really sweet and genuine. I'd say 90% of them were parents of young children. And yes, they were all slightly intimidating purely based on how successful they seemed to be. I wasn't too sure how a younger guy like

myself would easily blend into a community like that, but That was more of a personal concern. When I got around to meeting my next door neighbor, my social battery was mostly drained from having spent the day making small talk with strangers. I knew if I just went back home, I was never going to be as motivated to meet them. So, I just sucked it up and walked up their driveway. I had gotten accustomed to being greeted by someone middle-aged. So, when a youngl looking dude in a mullet opened the door, I was a little Takenback.

Hell, he looked even younger than me, which was definitely a shock. I recovered quickly and went ahead with my new to the neighborhood spiel. As I went on, he flashed me this massive smile and actually cut me off before I could even finish talking. He said something along the lines of, "Oh, wow. Someone who was born in my decade. What a nice surprise." I laughed and told him the same thing, venting to him about how out of place I felt as a single guy in his Late 20s among so many families with kids. He told

me not to worry about that and that most of the people who lived here kept to themselves, which was kind of a relief for me. He introduced himself as Damon and told me I should come by for a drink sometime. I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Hell, why not right now?" To which I expected him to laugh and invite me in. Instead, though, he looked over his shoulder like he was scanning his living room. And then he Turned back to me, saying he wished he could, but he was busy working. I asked him what he

did for work because it just seems like a normal follow-up question to what he said and he dropped his smile a bit. After a weird stare, he laughed and just said finance, but didn't elaborate any more than that, which I thought was a bit strange. I told him fair enough and asked if he had any roommates. To my surprise, he told me he lived there alone, which was absolutely Insane to me given how big the house was. We chitchated for a few more minutes and he gave me his number before going back inside. I was

excited that someone my age lived here, especially because he seemed like a really chill guy. But I couldn't get over how odd it was for someone like that to live all alone. And yeah, I know I was essentially doing the same thing, but you have to keep in mind my house wasn't even half the size of his. Anyway, I Went back home and got on with my life. That was about 6 months ago. For a few weeks after that, nothing eventful really happened. I texted Damon a few days after he gave me his number to

try and set something up, but he'd always complain about how busy he was and how sorry he was that we couldn't hang out. Eventually, I gave up with him. Not in a hostile way, just in a you do you kind of way. I'm definitely not the type of person to bend over backwards for Someone who seems disinterested. I never saw anyone coming or going from Damon's place. No visitors, no parties, no girls, nothing. He never even got takeout delivered, which was strange to me because his car was always in the driveway. I genuinely didn't know

what he ate because I literally never saw him leave the house. The guy lived like a ghost. I work from home and the office in my house is on the third floor, which overlooks Damon's property if you're Wondering how I knew so much about his living habits. I know it sounds obsessive and a little creepy, but his house was also just a glance away from my monitor, so I couldn't help but look over from time to time. One night, it was a Wednesday night. I remember that distinctly. I woke up around 2:00 a.m. to the

sound of loud music. I sleep with my windows open, so that's probably how I woke up so easily. At first, I thought I was imagining it, or it was part of a Really vivid dream I was having, but I was wrong. I got out of bed and peeked out my window, and there they were, seven or so cars lined up in Damon's driveway. There was no mistaking it. He was having a party. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not the type to complain about some noise. I've been to my fair share of house parties, but

it was the middle of the week, and the volume was insane. I figured I'd just go over, knock, and ask him to turn it down. I Threw on a hoodie and walked over. It was a full-blown party. That much was clear from outside. I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I pulled out my phone to text Damon, but I decided against it, knowing he'd probably ignore me and give me some BS excuse the following morning. I knocked on the door again harder this time. Still nothing. I reached for the handle, half expecting it

to be locked, but to my surprise, the door swung open. Inside, the first thing I saw was a pile of shoes in the foyer, at least 10 pairs. But there was something off. There was literally no one in there. I moved further in, expecting to see people in the living room, maybe the kitchen, but it was completely empty. There weren't even any drinks left out. I could hear people over the music that was playing in the background, though, which I didn't understand. But then I really listened to it, and everything hit me all at Once.

It wasn't even music, really. It was a recording. A literal recording of people laughing, yelling, clinking glasses. The whole party was fake. All of it. But that didn't make sense to me. It still didn't explain the shoes or the cars. There were people in that house. That much was certain. I should have turned around right then, but I needed to know what was going on. I moved discreetly around the house until I saw a door that was slightly a jar. I gently Pushed it open and it led down to the basement. I'm not sure how

I knew, but [music] something told me what I was looking for was downstairs. It was dark down those stairs with the exception of a very faint light coming from somewhere I couldn't see. There was no reason to go down there. I knew that, but I did it anyway. I got to the bottom of the stairs and looked around. The light was coming from another door somewhere deeper in the Basement. I crept towards it and as I got closer, I started to pick up on another noise I hadn't been able to hear earlier over the music.

It sounded almost mechanical. It was this heavy rhythmic grinding like heavy machinery or a buzzsaw or something. I got a little closer, close enough to see through the crack. There were three people standing in [music] there looking across the room at something that was out of view. They were all older looking Guys significantly older than Damon. They were wearing heavy duty work clothes and had on these protective goggles and thick rubber gloves. I also realized they were wearing what looked like work boots, even though I had seen all those other shoes upstairs. Under different circumstances,

I would have assumed that they were construction workers. I really wanted to see what they were looking at, but it was too far out of view. After a few seconds of me Just standing there, I started to pick up on this awful bleach smell or some kind of cleaning solution. That's what did it for me. I started to feel this awful pit in my stomach, like my life was in danger. I can't explain it. I turned to leave, trying to be as quiet as possible. As I was finding my way back to the stairs, the

light from behind me suddenly dimmed like someone had shut the door behind me. I didn't actually hear the door over The music, but I felt it. I sprinted up the stairs as fast as I could. I ran through the house and burst out the front door. I didn't run directly to my house. I jumped my own fence and made it to the backyard. I slipped in through my side door, locking it behind me. My chest was pounding, but under no circumstances could I let Damon or any of those other guys know it was me who

had been snooping around. I gathered myself and went up to my office, making Sure all the lights up there were off. I crouched down below the window and peeked over at Damon's house. There was no one there. But then a few minutes later, the front door flew open and like eight guys poured out, scanning the yard, the driveway, the street, but Damon wasn't with them. I could tell because everyone looked older, like those first guys I had seen. A few of them looked like they were arguing about something, but I couldn't make out what They

were saying. One of the men actually shoved one of the other ones, and I thought they were about to start fighting in the street, but they didn't. Eventually, they all went back inside and the [music] music stopped soon after that. I stood at the window trying to make sense of what had just happened. I thought about calling the cops, but what would I even say? The music wasn't playing anymore, and there was no real crime I could actually report. The thing I couldn't understand was how none of my other neighbors had a problem with the

loud music, especially since most of them had children. I figured if they hadn't been able to hear it and I called the police, Damon would know it was me. And the shoes. I had no idea what that was about either. The people I had seen were all wearing boots. So, did they bring extra pairs of shoes just to leave in the foyer? I had too many questions and I didn't know what to do. So, I just Went to bed. The next morning, I woke up and looked out my bedroom window. Every single car was gone,

including Damon's. I went upstairs to try and get some work done, but I couldn't concentrate and found myself looking over at Damon's house every 5 seconds. After a few hours of his car not being there, I decided to go for a walk. Partly to clear my head, but mostly to take some low-key glances through his windows. Nothing, though. Days passed and Damon still didn't Return, or his car didn't, at least. I was baffled with every passing day. I still couldn't figure out how my other neighbors had been able to sleep through all the noises that

night, so I just straight up asked them. I went to a few houses and asked them if they had heard the party he had a few nights ago. No one knew what I was talking about, even after I told them which house it was coming from and how late it was. I thought I was going crazy. That was a Few months ago now. The crazy thing is Damon still hasn't returned and it's clear no one is maintaining his house as the grass is starting to get really long and there's an untouched pile of packages leaning

against his front door. I don't know what to make of this. It could be nothing, but I feel like no one would go to such lengths to disguise what they were doing with a fake party, unless it was something illegal. But would people going to such lengths Really forget something as important as locking the front door? Maybe that's what those guys had been arguing about. I really have no idea. And the fact that none of my other neighbors seemed bothered by it makes me think I'm involved in some huge conspiracy or something. I know I'm

just being paranoid, but I just have so many unanswered questions. When Damon [music] returns, if he ever does, I'm debating whether or not I should just go and Straight up ask him. My name is Evan. I'm 28 years old. After my divorce, I moved to a small town named Chadam in Alabama. Apart from my parents house, I didn't really have anywhere else to go, so I came to live in my grandfather's old house. He passed away a few years ago and left the place to us. It's about 10 minutes outside town, sitting on 10 acres

surrounded by woods. It's real quiet out there. I thought I'd enjoy that. The house is Old. Wood floors that creek, doors that stick, the kind of place that always feels a little cold, no matter how high the thermostat is. But it was free and I didn't have a better option. The first few nights were normal. I unpacked and cleaned. I spent the evening sitting on the porch with a beer. It was peaceful. No traffic, just the wind through the trees and the occasional owl. But then the noises started. The first time I heard it was

on the seventh night. I had Just gotten into bed around midnight. I was almost asleep when I heard whistling outside. It wasn't a song I recognized, just a slow, broken tune. Off key. It sounded like someone walking through the woods behind the house, whistling as they went. It creeped me out, but I figured it was some hunter or drunk neighbor. The next night, it happened again. Same time, same tune, but this time it sounded closer. I got out of bed and Turned on the porch light, but I didn't see anyone. I went outside with a

flashlight and checked around the yard. Nothing. No tracks, no sounds of someone running off. just the whistling fading deeper into the woods. I tried to ignore it. For a couple of nights, I just stayed in bed and tried to sleep through it, but every time the whistling would start around 117 a.m. I know that sounds like a random number, but I swear it was Always around 1:15 or 119 somewhere there. It was like clockwork. I started thinking maybe someone was messing with me on purpose, someone who knew I was out there alone. I called the

sheriff's office a few days later. An old deputy who I'll call deputy H came out. He'd been in the job a long time. When I told him what was happening, he got real quiet. He said, "Word for word, your granddaddy used to call us about the same thing. Said someone was whistling Around the property late at night, always in the spring. We never found anything. I figured he was just getting old, but now you're hearing it, too." That shook me. I had no idea my grandfather dealt with this. Deputy H told me to keep the

doors locked and stay inside after dark. I started doing that. Not like I wasn't already. I double checked every window. One night, I even put chairs under the door knobs, but the whistling kept coming closer Every night. One night, I heard it behind the shed. It was louder than usual, like the person was standing right outside. I grabbed my flashlight and looked through the blinds. I didn't see anyone, but I didn't dare go outside. The next night, I heard it from the front porch, right by the door. Three long whistles, then silence. The night after

that, it came from under the floorboards. I swear to God, it was Like someone was in the crawl space, whistling up through the vents. I didn't sleep at all that night. I started digging through the attic the next day, trying to find anything my grandfather left behind. I found a box of his journals. He wrote about the whistling. He said it happened every spring for over 10 years. He didn't know who it was, but he thought it was someone watching the house. He said he used to sit up with a rifle by the front Door

just in case. He said it only ever happened when he lived alone after my grandmother died. I called Deputy H again. He came by and read the journal and he looked nervous. He told me to be careful. He said, "Don't open the door if you don't know who it is." That night, I stayed up. I sat on the couch with a shotgun across my lap. A shotgun I barely knew how to load. I waited. At 1:17 a.m., the whistling started again, but this time it didn't Come from outside. It came from the hallway inside the

house. I froze. The hallway light was off. I could hear the whistling moving closer, [music] step by step. I stood up, aimed the shotgun, and shouted, "Who's there?" The whistling stopped. I flipped the hallway light on. Nothing was there. no one. I didn't sleep again after that. It was two nights since then and I hadn't heard it again. I was getting sick. I didn't know who this person was. I didn't know Why they picked me or my grandfather, but it was real and I knew it was. I don't believe in hallucinations to that degree, nor

do I believe in anything paranormal. [music] This was a real person. After that night, things went quiet for 2 days. No sounds, no movement, no sign of anything. I thought maybe it was finally over. On the third night, I went to bed just after midnight. I didn't stay up this time. I left the hallway light on just in case. At exactly 117 a.m., I woke up to a new sound. Not whistling, knocking. Slow, paced out knocks. Three of them. They were coming from inside the house, from the back door. Then silence. I didn't move. I

stayed in bed listening. A minute later, I heard a new sound. A creek from the floorboard in the hallway. Then another. Someone was walking. The hallway light went out. I grabbed my shotgun, heart pounding, and stepped out of the Bedroom. The hallway was dark, but at the end of it, I saw something. a person wearing black clothes, pale face. They were standing perfectly still, just watching me. I raised the shotgun, but my hands were shaking. I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry. I raised the shotgun, but my hands were shaking. I screamed, "Don't

move!" with my shaky voice. I saw in the dark the person slowly start lifting their leg and turning as if they were about to run. I Screamed, "Stop!" And at that moment, they darted out of the hallway out of my line of sight. I heard their surprisingly heavy footsteps stomping out the front door into the dark. I ran outside and fired a shot not into the air, but straight ahead into the darkness, low-key hoping I'd hit him in the dark. I screamed, "Don't come back." The shot hurt my ears, ricocheting off the walls of the

house and the deck. I locked up the house, got to my truck, And drove into town. I slept in my truck that night. The next morning, Deputy H drove out there, and the front door to the house was unlocked again. That confirmed whoever that person was had a key to my grandfather's house. Nothing was broken or missing, but Deputy H recommended I change the locks. And he also, off the record, suggested I move out of that old place because someone out in those woods hasn't taken kindly to either my grandfather or myself being In that

house. I drove out to the local home improvement store and switched the locks that day, that same hour. After that, I left that house to go to my parents house out of state for a while. I left it to my dad to eventually sell that house. Anything of sentimental value, we took out, and the rest was just left in there or sold. My father, of course, left out the fact that there's some creep who's been stalking the house for apparently decades now. How they potentially got a key, who they were, why my grandfather never said

anything, I don't know. It all disturbs me deeply. I personally think it was some disturbed creep living in a nearby house. I eventually moved to a more urban area. This experience left me honestly too unsettled to live in a remote location. What you're about to hear is an experience that nearly made me lose my mind. It's still something that I think About quite often if I'm being honest, but I've been able to recover a bit in the month since it's happened. The whole story is pretty quick, so I'll get right into it. I'm a single

guy in my mid30s. I live alone with no pets in a small one-story house. The house is really modest. One bedroom, one bathroom, a living room, kitchen, dining room, and a tiny garage. That's it. Life is fantastic. Because of my profession, I can work on my own time and don't have To answer to anyone, whether that be a girlfriend, a parents, or an [music] employer. Freedom has always been an imperative part of my life, so I've done my best to maximize it wherever possible. I know a lot of people are different, and a lot of

people might actually judge me for my quote immature lifestyle, but everyone has different priorities and preferences. So, as long as no one judges me, I won't judge them. The excess freedom is definitely Tethered to its own set of drawbacks, though. I've developed some bad habits that I'm sure some people would frown upon. One of them is my sleep schedule, which is god awful. For some reason, I'm most productive at late hours of the night. So, I often find myself staying up until dawn and sleeping into the afternoon. It's just how my body functions, and until

I'm absolutely forced to, I don't see a reason to change anything. I was up really late One night. I'm talking past 3:00 a.m. late. I was sitting at my desk getting some work done on my computer. I was in the zone, not even listening to music. Imagine yourself at peak hours. [music] That's the kind of groove I was in. The room was dead silent, and I was alone with my thoughts, the sound of my keyboard, and my work. And then, bam, [music] out of nowhere, the silence was interrupted by the sound of footsteps pounding down

the hallway towards my Bedroom, followed by three or four bangs on the bedroom door. Like deafening bangs, the type of bangs you'd expect the police trying to barge into a drug den would make. I shot up from my chair so fast I banged my knee on the desk and knocked my monitor over. I was just so shocked it caught me completely off guard. Just imagine being in your own house at 3:00 a.m. alone and complete silence just gets interrupted by banging on your door. It was and still is the Most terrifying thing that has ever

happened to me. Standing up was a pure reaction. I was completely frozen after that. I had my eyes fixated on the door, dreading the moment I knew was coming. The door bursting open and someone barging into my room. Me having to fight a complete stranger in pitch black darkness. But it never came. I didn't hear anything else. Not even the sounds of footsteps retreating from the door. It was like I had imagined it, but I was 100% positive I hadn't. I don't know how long I stood there, but I physically could not force myself to

move. It was like sleep paralysis except I hadn't been dreaming. And then finally, I heard the sounds of footsteps quickly walking back down the hall. So, someone had been there. I don't know why, but hearing those footsteps again unlocked my brain. Without thinking, I grabbed an empty beer bottle off my desk, ran to the door, and started chasing after whoever Had broken into my home. I didn't even try to be quiet. I screamed at the top of my lungs like a lunatic, hoping that would give me the extra adrenaline I needed. I ran through the

entire house screaming, but I never found anyone. My house isn't that big. There aren't many places someone could hide. But even after checking every room, there was no one there. All the doors and windows were locked, too, which was even more confusing. My bout of confidence was Completely drained after that, and I felt fear start flooding back in. I sprinted back to my room, locked the door, and called the police. In the time it took the police to arrive, I listened to my surroundings in complete silence, but never heard anything. When the police finally showed

up, we searched the house together, but found nothing. One of the officers tried to convince me that whoever had been there had left, but I insisted that everything had been Locked up. He told me I had probably overlooked something, and it took everything in me not to curse him out right there. I know for a fact that nothing had been unlocked, but that didn't explain how that person had gotten into and out of my house, unless I had imagined it, but I know I didn't. For the next week, I was a psychological mess. My brain

refused to accept that I had imagined something so vivid that I couldn't conceive of a possible way that That person had gotten into and out of my house. I'm much better now, but there was a time where I had trouble sleeping, eating, working, everything. Even now, the only explanation I can think of is that I somehow didn't notice an unlocked window or door in my house. Still though, why anyone would crash through my house just to run away is a complete mystery to me. I work for a property preservation company. Basically, we handle foreclosed Homes,

securing them, cleaning them out, winterizing them, sometimes even boarding them up if there's been vandalism. It's not glamorous work, but it pays well. And for the most part, it's quiet. You spend a lot of time alone in houses that used to belong to people who are long gone. Sometimes it's sad, sometimes it's just boring, but every once in a while, you get a house that feels unsettling. This happened in 2020 when I was assigned to clear out a property in a rural part of upstate New York. It was one of those dying places. [music] Only

one gas station, half the businesses shuttered, roads cracked and overgrown. The house itself was a small one-story place off a dirt road, surrounded by overgrown brush and woods on three sides. No other homes nearby, just trees and silence. According to the file, the house had been foreclosed after the Owner, an elderly woman, passed [music] away, and no hairs had stepped forward to claim the estate. The utilities had been shut off for over a year. Our job was to catalog any remaining property, empty it out, and secure it for winter. I drove up on a Monday

morning around 9:00 a.m. with a small box truck and all my gear. From the outside, the house looked intact. Windows closed, door locked, roof fine, just a lot of weeds and vines climbing up the porch. I had To shove the front door open because it had swollen in the frame. But once inside, everything looked pretty standard. It was dusty, stale air and faded furniture. Then my work phone rang. It startled me because I had no signal out there. I'd already checked and noticed I had no bars, but the phone buzzed anyway. There was no number

on the caller ID. It just said unknown caller. I answered and there was Nothing. Just a low crackling sound like static. I said hello twice, then hung up, chalked it up to a glitch. I got to work. I always start with photos documenting every room, every item. The living room was cluttered with old furniture. Lace curtains, some framed paintings. It reminded me of my grandma's house. Heavy furniture, doilies, porcelain figures. The hallway had a smell. Not rot, more like mildew and dust, and something faintly Metallic. There were three bedrooms. One had been stripped bare except

for a sagging mattress on the floor. Another was clearly a sewing room with thread spools everywhere and a dusty machine on the desk. I took a closer look and there was a corkboard filled with old newspaper clippings. They were mostly obituaries. Dozens of them all clipped out with scissors and pinned carefully to the board. No names I recognized. All local. I moved on. In the master Bedroom, there was a rotary phone on the nightstand. I remember stopping and staring at it for a second because I hadn't seen one in years. It was off-white, yellowed with

age, with a long coiled cord, the kind of phone that would never ring again because the line had been cut long ago. I moved on to the bathroom. That's when my phone rang again. It said unknown caller again. This time I hesitated. I picked it up, stepped out Into the hallway, and answered. Again, nothing. But this time, after about 5 seconds, I heard a whisper. Very soft. So quiet I could barely make it out. It said, "Don't answer the phone in the bedroom." Then the line went dead. I stood there frozen, heart pounding. The house

was dead silent. I checked the windows, all closed. Nobody was outside and there was no sign of forced entry. My first thought was that someone had pranked me. It's what anyone would think. Maybe one of the other crew guys was messing with me, but no one else knew I was there that early. And again, I had no signal. I checked my phone. One bar, then nothing. Like it flickered in and out of existence. I tried calling my supervisor, but the call failed. I decided to finish the job quickly. I started boxing up loose items in

the living room. Books, figurines, dusty glasswear. But the whole time I felt Off, like I was being watched. I kept glancing toward the hallway, half expecting to see someone standing down there. Then the phone rang a third time. But not my phone. The rotary phone in the bedroom. I heard it from across the house. A shrill mechanical ring that echoed through the rooms. That phone should have been dead. The line was disconnected. No dial tone and no service. But yet, it rang like an Old-fashioned bell. I walked slowly down the hallway toward the bedroom. Phone

still in my hand. It rang again and again. I stepped into the doorway. The phone sat on the nightstand, the receiver trembling slightly with each ring. There was no chance I was picking up that phone. The rings eventually stopped. I backed out of the room. I wanted to leave, but part of my job was securing the property, and I still had to check the basement. I almost said Screw it, but something made me keep going. Maybe it was pride. Maybe I just didn't want to admit how scared I was. The basement door was in the

kitchen. I opened it slowly. The stairs creaked as I stepped down, flashlight in hand. I smelled mold and something like rust. There were shelves along the wall filled with old paint cans and some broken furniture. In the back corner, there was a small table. On it, a cordless phone, a newer model. It was gray plastic and Covered in dust. and next to it, a stack of yellowed notebooks. I picked one up and flipped through it. Each page had a name and a date and a short sentence. Lena H. July 3rd, 2019. Rang once, didn't answer.

Carl M. September 12th, 2019. Picked up, warned him. It was more like this. Dozens of entries. I dropped the notebook and my heart felt like it completely dropped out of my body as I looked around the basement. Fearing I wasn't alone down there and that someone Was watching me from any corner in the darkness, I rushed back up the stairs, looking behind me the whole time, heart in my throat. I didn't finish the job. I drove straight back to the office and turned in my report. I didn't tell them everything. I just said the property

was unsafe and possibly had squatters or interference. They reassigned the job to another crew. 2 days later, I got a text from one of the other guys, Mark. He'd gone out there that morning to finish The job. I hadn't told him specifically what happened. His message said, "The phone in the bedroom with no service rang while I was in there. What the hell?" I called his work cell phone immediately, and he told me he didn't answer the phone in the house because he was too freaked out. The next day, Mark apparently quit without notice and

never returned to work. He's not dead or anything. I admittedly looked him up on Facebook eventually, and he posted stuff Since then, but I never spoke to him again. I don't know what else he saw in the house, but it must have been something bad enough for him to want to distance himself from this job. My boss did call the police to report the potential squatters after Mark quit, but they found nobody inside of the house. Everything about that house, from its location to its eerie, dilapidated interior to the phone calls to my cell phone

and that voice on that line and That damn house phone ringing. It's like I found myself in a legitimate horror movie. I swear it had to be one of two things. An elaborate sick prank or an equally elaborate trap. When I was 10 years old, my family moved into a bigger house because my mom had just gotten remarried and we needed more space. The house was nice, newer than the one we lived in before, and it was in a quiet neighborhood with a lot of trees. I thought I would be happy there. At first, everything

seemed normal, but then little things started happening that made me feel like the house wasn't right. My bedroom was at the end of the hall. It had two big windows that faced the backyard and a closet that was deeper than the one I had before. I liked it until the first night I slept there. I woke up around midnight because I heard something moving in the closet. It wasn't loud, just soft shuffling like Clothes being brushed against. I stared at the closet and told myself it was just the house settling. I know it sounds cliche,

but most people, even as children, would assume small sounds coming from here and there in a house are just typical house noises that you hear every day. But then I saw the door move. It didn't swing open, but it shivered like someone had lightly pressed on it from the inside. I wanted to run to my mom's room, but I was Frozen. I stayed that way until I fell back asleep, still staring at the closet. The next morning, the closet door was cracked open just a little, even though I had shut it tight. I asked my

mom if she had gone in there, and she said no. She said maybe the air vents pushed it, but I knew it wasn't the air vents. The nights after that got worse. I started hearing tapping on the window glass. At first, I thought it was tree branches, but when I looked, there were No branches near the window. The tapping would go on for minutes, and when I pulled the blanket over my head, it would stop. I tried to ignore it until one night I finally peeked out. I saw a pale hand pressed against the window.

It was on the outside, but the window was on the second floor, way too high for anyone to reach without a ladder. The hand stayed there for a long time, just pressed without moving. Then it slid down slowly and disappeared. I didn't Sleep at all that night. I told my mom and she started cracking up laughing when I told her. She didn't believe me for a second. When she saw that I wasn't just saying it as a prank or a joke, she leaned more into trying to convince me that I was probably in a half

asleep state and seeing things from my dream, but I knew that was a load of horseshit. My stepdad didn't [music] believe me either. He said I was making it up for attention, and he also got a laugh out Of it. But I started noticing he kept the hallway light on at night. So maybe he didn't feel as safe as he pretended. A month later, my little brother, who was four, started talking about the white lady. He would say she came into his room and sat on his bed. My mom thought it was just his imagination.

But one night, I heard him screaming. I ran in and saw him curled up under his blanket crying. When he finally calmed down, he said the white lady had been Standing by his door just staring at him. He said her eyes were all black. I believed him because of what I had seen at my window. I started sleeping with the blanket over my head every night. But that didn't stop the dreams. I began to dream of the white lady, too. She would stand in the corner of my room and whisper my name. Her voice was

dry, like leaves rubbing together. Sometimes I would wake up and still hear it, faint, but definitely real. One night, I woke Up and saw her standing at the foot of my bed. She was taller than anyone I had ever seen. Her head almost touched the ceiling. She wore a long white dress that moved even though the air was still. Her hair was black and stringy, and her face was pale like chalk. Her eyes were like empty black holes. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I shut my eyes, and when I opened them again,

she was gone. But my closet door was wide open. After that, I couldn't go In my closet anymore. I begged my mom to let me sleep in her room, but she said I need to learn how to be brave. I think she didn't want to admit she was scared, too. The worst night came during a storm. Heavy rain and loud wind. I woke up to the sound of my window creaking. When I looked, the window was slowly sliding open. Even though it was locked, I could see the lock turning by itself. The window opened all

the way and I saw the white lady climb in. She didn't move Like a person. She floated. Her feet never touched the floor. She drifted toward my bed and leaned down until her face was right in front of mine. I felt her cold breath on my skin. She whispered my name again, and this time I screamed as loud as I could. My mom and stepdad came running in, but when they turned on the light, the window was closed and locked, and no one else was there. They yelled at me for scaring everyone, but I could

see in their faces That they were worried. The weird thing about that part of the story is that I don't vividly remember what happened between the moment I saw that lady floating towards me and my screaming. The best I can explain it is that I sort of blacked out for a moment before remembering screaming and having my parents rush into the room. My window was closed again, which would suggest to people that it was just a night terror. That's what my parents believed it was. I think my mom started taking me to therapy for a

while because they were worried about me. We lived in that house for three more years and I never got used to it. My brother stopped talking about the white lady, but I think it was because he was too scared, not because she stopped visiting. Sometimes I would hear him crying at night and saying, "Go away." I think he just also didn't want to be forced into going to therapy. Sometimes when it storms at night, I Still get scared to even get up to go to the bathroom or get water. I'll glance over at corners of

the room, making sure I don't see something tall lurking there. It goes to show how these kinds of things stick with you into adulthood. I'd be more open to believing [music] it was simply night terrors if it weren't for the fact that I saw that hand on my window before my little brother even first mentioned the white lady. I guess this is just one of those freakish Experiences that cannot be explained. This happened in early December 2 years ago when I drove up into the mountains to visit an old friend I had not seen in

a long time. His fictional name for the story is Scott [music] and my real name is Jeremy. We had been friends since middle school, but after graduation, he moved out to a small mountain town with his family. Over the years, we slowly drifted apart. I stayed in New York City for work, and he stayed up in the Mountains. We never fought or anything. We just stopped keeping up with each other's lives. So, when he reached out to me out of nowhere and said I should come visit for a weekend, it made me feel kind of

nostalgic and excited. He said it was the best time to come up because the snow added to the rustic rural vibe. I figured it would be fun to catch up. The drive up the mountain was extra long because I drove a bit slower due to icy conditions. There were barely Any other cars on the road and the sun went down around 400 p.m. since it was December. And by the time I reached the area where he was living, it was already pitch black. He lived in one of those older wooden houses on the side of

the mountain. There were only a few scattered houses nearby, all spaced out far from each other. He lives in a good area for skiing. if only I could ski. When I pulled into his driveway and he came outside to greet me, the first Thing I noticed was that something about him felt off or just different. I hadn't seen him in years, so I figured maybe I just forgot what he looked like and acted like, but the way he talked was different, slower than he used to talk, and he kept pausing between sentences like he forgot

what he was saying. He helped carry my bag inside, and the inside of the house was warm, but pretty empty. not much furniture except for a couch, a table, a couple chairs, and Some antique looking wall decor. [music] He told me I could sleep on the couch for the weekend since it folded into a pullout bed. I told him that was fine. The house had a long, dark hallway across from the couch that led to a bathroom and two empty guest rooms, which he explained were empty because this used to be his grandparents house, and

they recently passed away. He told me he lived alone here now. The hallway had no light at the end and the doors Were all open. So from the couch, all I could see was this pitch black rectangle stretching into the back of the house. For some reason, it made me uncomfortable, even though there was nothing obviously scary about it. That first night, we talked a little bit about old times, but it felt strange. His general demeanor and mannerisms were more socially awkward now, but I chocked it up to the fact that living alone in the

mountains for years could make Anyone a bit weird. He barely made eye contact and I did feel like he kept looking in the direction of the hallway. When [music] it was time to sleep, he went upstairs to his bedroom and I got the couch set up. [music] I left a light near the hallway on because the dark made me nervous. I felt stupid about it, but the hallway really bothered me. I fell asleep, but at around 2:00 in the morning, I woke up to a thumping sound from upstairs. [music] I quickly realized they were fast

footsteps running across the floor above me. It sounded like someone sprinting from one end of the room to the other, then stopping and then sprinting again. The footsteps went on for about 20 seconds before just stopping completely. I waited to hear a door open or close or anything, but there was complete silence after that. I eventually fell back asleep, even though I was pretty creeped The [ __ ] out after that. The second day was even weirder. Scott acted distracted the entire day. Barely talking, barely eating, and whenever I asked if he was feeling okay,

he would just nod without saying anything. I didn't understand why he was acting this way, being that he invited me here for the weekend for what I assumed was to catch up and rekindle our friendship. I also counted him going down that hallway at least five times throughout the day, and I never bothered To check what he was looking at. Since there was a bathroom at the end of the hall, I just presumed he was going in there, even though I never heard it flush. That night, the weather got worse and a snowstorm rolled through.

Wind slammed against the house hard enough to make the walls shake a little. It was awesome. Honestly, I love the vibe of being snowed in in a cozy place. I went to the couch and scrolled on my phone For like an hour, then went to sleep. Around 2:00 in the morning, I woke up again. This time I heard soft scraping sounds. They were coming from downstairs somewhere in the hallway. It sounded like something dragging across the wooden floor. Then it just stopped. But then there was a sudden tap on the wall behind me, like someone

had flicked it with their finger. I turned and looked down the hallway. I didn't leave that light on that night, so it was completely dark. I didn't want to get up. I did my best to just roll to the other side and block the noises out. Old house, I kept telling myself. I did fall back asleep and the next thing I remember is waking up in the morning. The third night was the worst. By this time, I felt uneasy in the house in general and I kept catching Scott staring at me for too long without

Saying anything, like he was checking if I noticed something. I almost thought about leaving early, but the snowstorm was supposed to last until morning. After dinner, Scott went upstairs early and I stayed up on my phone, starting to question the point of this visit entirely. Eventually, I set up the couch and laid down. I shut my eyes and tried to sleep, but sometime around 2:00 in the morning again, I woke up without knowing why. My Eyes opened, but the rest of my body refused [music] to move. I had heard of sleep paralysis before, but I

had never experienced it. It was like being awake inside a dead body. I could only move my eyes. I couldn't even move my fingers. I started to panic, but then something made it even worse. I noticed movement at the far end of the hallway. At first, it was so dark that I couldn't tell if it was real or not. But after a few seconds, I realized what I was seeing. Scott was standing at the very end of the hallway. I could only see his outline because his face was completely hidden in the darkness. His arms

hung at his sides and he was standing perfectly still like he'd been there for a long time just watching me. It was like a scene from Paranormal Activity. I tried to speak to him, but no sound came out. I tried to move or twitch or anything, but my body stayed frozen. I didn't even feel like I Was breathing to be honest. I could only stare. He stood there for what felt like an entire minute, not moving at all. Then without warning, he slowly turned to his right and walked into the guest room at the end

of the hall. He disappeared into the darkness without a sound. My body slowly started to regain control. First my fingers, then my arms, then my ability to sit up. Once I fully snapped out of it, I sat up shaking and sweating. I kept telling myself it might Have just been a dream or a hallucination since sleep paralysis can cause that. But something in my gut said it wasn't. I whispered his name to see if he would answer. Nothing. Against everything in me, I got up and forced myself to walk down the hallway toward the room

he had gone into. When I stepped inside, the room looked empty, but in the far corner by the window, someone was standing. I could see the shape of a person facing the window Looking outside. I couldn't tell if it was Scott. Either way, the sight was horrifying. I slowly backed out and then ran upstairs to his bedroom. I found Scott asleep in his bed, completely knocked out. I shook him awake and he looked confused and irritated like he had no idea why I was waking him up. When I tried to tell him what I saw,

he refused to go downstairs. I begged him to believe me that someone else was in the house. He would not even look toward The stairs. He didn't say anything, but his expression changed in a way that scared me even more. He looked like he already knew what I had seen. [music] I then asked him firmly, "Scott, who is that downstairs, and he just looked at me and shrugged his shoulders." At that point, I decided I was done. [music] I didn't care about the snow or the time. I ran downstairs and grabbed my bag to pack

my stuff. I kept glancing toward the hallway, half expecting to See that person standing there again. Genuinely, I just wanted to teleport out of that house immediately. When I got outside, the cold air almost relieved me. I brushed snow off my car and got inside as fast as possible. As I backed out of the driveway, I made the mistake of looking up at the house one last time. In that window of the room at the end of the hallway, I saw a silhouette. Surely that same person I saw standing in that room just before. That

was the Last thing I ever saw of Scott's house. After that weekend, he stopped responding to texts. I threatened to call in a wellness check when I got worried that he got murdered or something. And finally, he responded saying, "I'm fine." That's it, though. He didn't respond to any further texts, so I stopped bothering. That was not the same Scott I knew from school. Whatever happened to him and whoever that was in his house, it's not My problem. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't terrify the [ __ ] out of me, though.