True Scary Stories Told to the Sound of Rain | Relax and Fall Asleep Quickly Vol. 121 l Black Screen

hello everyone I am the Storyteller and I am here to help you today I know you use this video to fall asleep so before that like the video and subscribe to the channel also where are you from and what time are you watching now get comfortable and relax Jenny's words cut through my sleep like a knife don't please don't touch me her voice was small desperate my eyes snapped open in the darkness of our bedroom I lay still listening to my wife's breathing next to me she was still asleep but her face was twisted in

distress the bedroom was quiet except for the soft were of the ceiling fan then I noticed the blankets at the foot of our bed they lifted slightly like someone was gently pulling them up but there was nothing there my heart started pounding against my ribs the movement wasn't from the fan it was too deliberate too focused in one spot I watched as a depression formed in the mattress at the foot of the bed like someone was sitting there the weight made the whole bed shift slightly no stay back Jenny mumbled turning her head on the

pillow her eyes were still closed but her fingers clutched at the sheets I wanted to wake her but my body wouldn't move my throat felt tight like I was being choked the depression in the mattress deepened whatever was sitting there was getting heavier a car drove past outside its headlight sweeping across the room through the blinds for just a second I thought I saw a shadow where nothing should be a darker patch of Darkness at the foot of our bed but when the light faded there was nothing visible there just the blankets still pulled up

in that unnatural way my hands were shaking as I reached for the bedside lamp I had to see what was happening but before I could turn it on Jenny's whole body went rigid beside me get out she said in her sleep her voice was different now angry instead of afraid this isn't your place you need to leave the depression in the mattress vanished the blanket settled back into place but the temperature in the room dropped so fast I could see my breath clouding in front of my face Jenny's eyes flew open and she sat up

with a gasp what's wrong she asked looking at my face your wife is a sheet I told her what had happened watching her expression change from confusion to fear as she remembered fragments of her dream she said she'd been dreaming about her grandmother not her real grandmother who died when Jenny was in college but a twisted version that kept trying to climb into bed with us we didn't sleep the rest of that night we sat up with all the lights on drinking coffee and trying to convince ourselves it had just been a dream affecting us

both somehow but we knew it wasn't true something had been in our room the next few nights were quiet too quiet like something was holding its breath waiting Jenny started taking sleeping pills to avoid the dreams but I could tell they weren't working completely she would twitch and mutter in her sleep her face drawn with tension I installed a motion activated camera at the foot of our bed the first two nights nothing showed up on the footage but on the third night at exactly 3:47 a.m. the camera's infrared light turned on detecting movement the video

showed the blankets moving on their own rising and falling like someone was breathing under them the temperature reading in the corner of the frame dropped from 72° to 45 and less than a minute I didn't show Jenny the footage she was already having trouble sleeping and I didn't want to make it worse instead I started researching I read everything I could find about sleep paralysis shared dreams and Supernatural en counters most of it was useless just stories from people trying to explain away their fears but one account caught my attention a woman in Oregon described

almost exactly what we were experiencing she said it started after her mother died and the presence would sit on her bed every night at the same time it never hurt her but it seemed to be waiting for something she finally got rid of it by having her house blessed by a local priest I'm not religious but I was desperate enough to try anything I called several churches in our area finally finding an elderly priest who listened to my story without judgment father Martinez came to our house the next day he walked through each room slowly

sprinkling holy water and reciting prayers in Latin when he reached our bedroom he stopped at the foot of the bed his hands were trembling as he made the sign of the cross there was something here he said quietly something old but it's not evil just lost sometimes Spirits get confused especially if they had a strong connection to a place or person in life that night Jenny had another dream but this time when she talked in her sleep her voice was calm it's okay she said I understand now you can go home the temperature dropped again

but not as severely as before I felt a breeze pass through the room like someone walking quickly past me then Jenny sighed in her sleep and rolled over peaceful for the first time in weeks we never felt the presence again after that night Jenny remembered more of her dream the next morning she said her grandmother her real grandmother this time had come to explain the spirit wasn't trying to harm us it was another woman who had lived in our house decades ago she had dementia near the end of her life and would often get confused

walking into the wrong bedroom thinking it was her own even after death she kept coming back to what she thought was her room not understanding why strangers were sleeping in her bed Jenny's grandmother helped her remember who she was and guided her away I still have the video footage from that last night if you watch carefully you can see two sets of footprints formed briefly in the carpet before fading away one shuffling and uncertain the other steady and sure leading the first toward the door we kept the house but we rearranged our bedroom the bed

is against a different wall now and we painted the room a new color not to keep Spirits away we're not afraid anymore but to make the space truly ours sometimes on quiet nights I think about that confused spirit and feel grateful for Jenny's grandmother helping her find peace it would be easy to tell this story as a ghost story to focus on the fear and uncertainty we felt but in the end it wasn't about fear at all it was is about compassion about helping a lost soul find its way home Jenny doesn't have nightmares anymore

she sleeps peacefully through the night and the foot of our bed stays undisturbed but every now and then when I wake up at 3:47 a.m. I whisper a quiet thank you to both grandmothers the one who helped and the one who needed helping then I roll over and go back to sleep knowing our room belongs to us alone we still live in that house the motion sent censor camera is still running but it hasn't picked up anything unusual in months the temperature stays steady through the night the only movements in our bedroom are the normal

ones cats walking across the floor Shadows from passing cars the gentle rise and fall of blankets as we breathe life has returned to normal or as normal as it can be after an experience like that we don't talk about it much anymore but we haven't forgotten how could we some experiences change you forever even if the change is subtle I still wake up sometimes in the middle of the night my heart racing from half-remembered dreams but now instead of fear I feel a strange sense of Peace the foot of our bed is just the foot

of our bed no depressions in the mattress no mysterious movements in the blankets Jenny says she sometimes dreams of her grandmother but they're good dreams now they sit together in a sunny kitchen drinking tea and talking about nothing in particular when she wakes up she smiles and squeezes my hand we've learned to live with the memory of those strange nights we've made peace with the idea that there are things in this world we can't fully understand but we're not looking for answers anymore sometimes it's enough just to know that even in the darkest moments there's

always a way back to the light the motion sensor camera is still running its red light blinking steadily in the corner of our room sometimes I think about taking it down but I leave it up not because I think we'll need it again but because it reminds me that even in our most rational moments we should stay open to the inexplicable our bedroom is different now we've made it our own space filled with our own Memories the old spirit's confusion is gone replaced by the comfortable familiarity of our life together and if sometimes late at

night I think I hear Footsteps in the hallway or feel asleep light chill in the air I don't panic anymore instead I listen to Jenny's steady breathing beside me watch The Moonlight make patterns on our walls and remember that every story even the strangest ones eventually Finds Its end our ghost story ended not with Terror or tragedy but with understanding and peace the digital clock still glows in the darkness marking the hours as they pass but 3:47 a.m. is just another time now no more significant than any other and that perhaps is the greatest piece

of all knowing that even the most haunting moments can fade into memory leaving us changed but not broken life goes on in our house we wake up each morning make coffee go to work come home and sleep in our bed without fear the only presence in our room now is our own and that's exactly how it should be sometimes late at night when I can't sleep I think about writing down this story but then I realize that some experiences don't need to be preserved in writing they live on in The Quiet Moments in the peaceful

nights in the understanding that sometimes the scariest things aren't scary at all they're just lost looking for their way home and so our life continues marked not by the strange events of those few weeks but by the ordinary moments that make up our days we've found our peace with what happened and that peace is stronger than any fear we felt during those Dark Nights the foot of our bed is just the foot of our bed now and that's enough the first time I heard the laughter I was cleaning out the kitchen cabinets on a Tuesday

afternoon it wasn't funny laughter it was wrong the sound hit me like ice water down my spine deep guttural and somehow wet no one should have been in my garage I live alone in a small house on the outskirts of Portland Maine my nearest neighbor is a quarter mile down the road I'd moved here 6 months ago after my divorce wanting the isolation the garage sits detached from the house connected by a covered walkway the previous owner had used it as a workshop that afternoon I was going through the motions of my usual cleaning routine

Martha my ex-wife used to say I was obsessive about keeping things organized maybe she was right but the routine helped keep my mind off things the empty house the silence the memories I had just finished wiping down the inside of the upper cabinets when I heard it a low chuckle at first then building into that wet gurgling laugh it seemed to Echo off the garage walls carrying through the thin door that connected to the kitchen my hands froze on the cabinet door the laugh came again longer this time it sounded like someone choking while trying

to laugh a horrible liquid sound that made my stomach turn I grabbed the baseball bat I keep next to the refrigerator the weight of it felt good in my hands as I moved toward the garage door my heart pounded against my ribs who's there I called out trying to keep my voice steady I'm armed and I've called the police I hadn't called anyone but they didn't need to know that the laughter stopped I waited counting my breaths 1 2 3 nothing but silence my hand shook slightly as I reached for the door knob I turned

it slowly then yanked the door open bat raised the garage was empty sunlight filtered through the dusty Windows Illuminating my workbench tools hanging neatly on their hooks boxes of holiday decorations stacked in the corner nothing was disturbed no footprints in the dust on the concrete floor no sign anyone had been there I checked behind every box under the workbench in the small storage closet nothing the side door was still locked from the inside the windows sealed shut must be hearing things I muttered lowering the bat working too hard I went back inside double-checking the locks

but I couldn't shake the sound from my mind that horrible wet laughter the rest of the day passed normally I finished cleaning the kitchen made dinner watched some TV by bedtime I had almost convinced myself I'd imagined the whole thing almost I went through my nighttime routine mechanically brush teeth wash face take medications check all the doors and windows set the alarm the same things I'd done every night since moving in sleep came eventually but it didn't last the sound jerked me awake at 2:07 a.m. the same laugh but closer now much closer it was

coming from the hallway right outside my bedroom door my body went rigid under the covers sweat broke out across my forehead despite the cool air from the ceiling fan the laugh came again wet and gurgling like someone drowning in their own Amusement I couldn't move couldn't breathe my eyes fixed on the thin strip of Darkness visible under the door a shadow passed through that strip of darkness something was out there the floor doorboards creaked another laugh right at my door now the door knob began to turn slowly so slowly I lunged for the bedside lamp

fingers fumbling with the switch light flooded the room the doorknob stopped moving the laughter cut off abruptly my heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat I grabbed my phone with shaking hands pulled up the flashlight app and climbed out of bed the baseball bat was downstairs in the kitchen stupid I should have brought it up I stood there for what felt like hours staring at the door phone gripped tight in my sweating Palm the silence stretched out broken only by my ragged breathing finally I gathered my courage and yanked the door

open the hallway was empty the motion activated NightLight cast a pale glow over the hardwood floor nothing moved in the shadows I checked every room upstairs then went down to the first floor everything was locked the alarm system showed no signs of Entry but I knew what I'd heard I spent the rest of the night in the living room with every light on bad across my lap jumping at every Creek and groan of the old house settling morning came eventually in the harsh light of day I felt foolish stress and isolation Playing Tricks on my

mind that's all it was I needed to get out more maybe start dating again I called in sick to work and spent the day installing more security cameras adding motion sensors replacing the old locks with heavyduty deadbolts the hardware store clerk gave me odd looks as he rang up my purchases but I didn't care that night I double checked every lock tested every camera and went to bed with the bat propped against my nightstand I left the bedside lamp on sleep came in fits and starts every sound jolted me awake the furnace kicking on branches

scratching against the windows the ice maker dropping Cubes at 2:07 a.m. the laughter started again this time it came from inside my closet the sound was different now still wet and gurgling but with a new Edge to it almost hungry I lay Frozen in bed staring at the closet door it was closed but I could see movement in the Gap underneath something shifting in the darkness beyond the laughter grew louder more insistent the door began to vibrate slightly in its frame I grabbed the bat and phone backing toward my bedroom door my hands shook so

badly I nearly dropped both the closet door started to open I ran down the hallway taking the stairs two at a time nearly falling in my Panic the laughter followed echoing off the walls seeming to come from everywhere at once I made it to the kitchen fumbling with my car keys I had to get out had to the laughter stopped in the sudden silence I heard something something wet hitting the floor behind me slow heavy drops drip drip drip I turned around the kitchen was empty but there on the floor dark glistening spots leading from

the doorway To Where I Stood I touched one with trembling fingers it was warm and sticky the laughter erupted again right next to my ear hot wet breath on my neck I ran out of the house in my pajamas jumped in my car and drove I didn't stop until I reached the 24-hour diner on the edge of town the fluorescent lights and smell of coffee helped calm my racing heart the elderly waitress didn't bat an eye at my appearance just poured me a cup of coffee and left me alone in my booth I spent the

rest of the night there planning my next move I couldn't go back to the house not alone but who would believe me when Dawn broke I called Mike my oldest friend from college who lived a few hours away he was a contractor who'd helped me fix up the house when I first moved in I need your help I said when he answered something's wrong with the house Mike arrived that afternoon he listened to my story without interrupting then helped me do a thorough inspection of the house we checked every corner crawl space and vent found

nothing could be raccoons in the walls he suggested they can make some weird noises I didn't bother arguing how could I explain the wet footprints that the breath on my neck Mike agreed to stay a few days to help figure things out we set up camping CS in the living room safety and numbers the first night passed quietly so did the second on the third night at 2:07 a.m. the laughter started again it woke us both Mike sat up on his cot eyes wide what the hell is that the sound came from the kitchen that

horrible wet gurgling laugh you hear it too I whispered Mike nodded slowly that's not raccoons we grabbed our phones in the bat moving toward the kitchen the laughter grew louder with each step the kitchen was dark the motion sensor light should have activated when we entered but it remained dead the laughter seemed to fill the room now bouncing off the walls making it impossible to tell where it was coming from Mike fumbled for the light switch nothing happened power's out he said voice tight our phone lights carved weak circles in the darkness the beams caught

something moving near the ceiling a darker Shadow against the Shadows the laughter stopped in the sudden silence we heard something moving across the ceiling not footsteps more like something dragging itself overhead leaving wet Trails behind a drop of warm liquid hit my shoulder run Mike said we bolted Ed for the front door behind us the laughter erupted again closer now pursuing us into the night we didn't stop running until we reached Mike's truck the engine roared to life and we peeled out of the driveway gravel spraying behind us in the rearview mirror I saw something

standing in my doorway a darker shape against the darkness it raised one long Twisted arm in farewell then it laughed we drove straight to Mike's house his wife Sarah didn't ask questions when we showed up at 3:00 a.m. just made up the guest room and poured us both stiff drinks the next day Mike called in some favors a priest came to bless the house a Paranormal Investigator set up cameras and recording equipment an old woman who claimed to sense Spirits walked through every room burning sage and muttering prayers none of them found anything concrete the

cameras showed nothing but ordinary Shadows the recordings picked up no ghostly voices the spirit sensitive woman just shook her head and said the house felt heavy but they all agreed on one thing whatever was in that house wasn't natural I put the house up for sale the next day let someone else deal with it I moved in with Mike and Sarah temporarily while looking for a new place closer to Town the realtor called a week later no one was interested the house had a reputation now stories about strange noises wet Footprints mysterious laughter in the

night so here I am stuck with a house I can't sell and can't live in I drive by sometimes always during daylight hours it looks perfectly normal from the outside just another aging New England home needing some paint and minor repairs but sometimes when I drive past at night I see lights moving inside even though the power's been shut off and once just once I heard that familiar wet laugh floating on the night air I keep driving now I don't slow down anymore to look but some times in my dreams I'm back in that kitchen

watching Dark Drops Fall from the ceiling listening to that horrible laughter getting closer and closer and sometimes on very quiet nights I wake at exactly 2:07 a.m. straining my ears half expecting to hear that sound again so far it hasn't found me but I keep the baseball bat next to my bed just in case and I never ever laugh at night anymore the first time I felt it I was scraping old wallpaper off the wall next to the attic stairs a wave of heat pressed against my back like standing too close to a space heater

I turned around nothing was there just the empty hallway and the worn wooden steps leading up to the attic I went back to work the heat returned stronger this time along with a pressure between my shoulder blades like someone standing right behind me breathing down my neck that was 3 weeks ago now I'm sitting at my kitchen table at 3:00 a.m. staring at a stack of old family photos I found in the attic and my hands won't stop shaking I inherited this house from my great aunt Martha 6 months ago I never knew her well

she was the family recluse the odd sister who never married and rarely left the property when her lawyer called to tell me I was her sole Heir I I was shocked I'd only visited the house twice as a kid and the memories were vague creaky floors musty rooms and Martha shuffling around in her slippers muttering to herself the house needed work a lot of work the wiring was ancient the plumbing leaked and every surface was covered in decades of grime and peeling wallpaper but property values in the area were rising and I figured I could

fix it up and sell it for a decent profit I took a Le of absence from my it job and moved in with just the essentials my tools a mattress and my laptop the first two weeks were normal I stripped wallpaper patched holes and updated the electrical system the work was tedious but straightforward then came that day by the attic stairs after the second time I felt the heat and pressure I convinced myself it was just a draft or my imagination old houses make weird air currents right but it kept happening every time I worked

near those stairs the same sensation would creep up on me the heat would start gradually then build until sweat ran down my back the pressure would increase until I could barely stand it like someone pressing their full weight against me I started avoiding that section of the hallway I'd take the long way around to reach the other rooms I told myself I was being ridiculous but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching me from those stairs last night I finally forced myself to climb up to the attic I needed to check the insulation

anyway and I was sick of letting this weird fear control me I grabbed my flashlight and toolbox and started up the steps the Heat hit me halfway up my shirt stuck to my back instantly the pressure came next so strong I had to grab the railing to keep from stumbling backward my flashlight beam bounced off Dusty boxes and old furniture the air was thick with Decades of accumulated dust I pushed through the sensation and made it to the top the attic was huge running the full length of the house boxes and Trunks were stacked everywhere

along with sheet covered furniture and piles of yellowing newspapers I spotted a box labeled photos and grabbed it thinking maybe I'd find some old pictures of the house to guide my renovation the box was full of albums and loose photographs spanning at least 50 years I brought them downstairs to the kitchen where the light was better most were typical family photos picnics holidays birthdays but then I found one that made my blood run cold it was a photo of the attic stairs taken from the hallway below the image was faded and slightly blurry probably from

the 1970s based on the wood paneling visible on the walls but what caught my eye was the dark figure standing halfway up the steps at first I thought it was just a shadow or a problem with the photo but the more I looked the more distinct it became it was definitely human-shaped but completely black like a Silhouette cut from dark paper the figure appeared to be facing down toward the camera my hands started shaking I dug through the rest of the photos there were more many more different years different times of day different angles but

in every photo of those stairs that dark figure was there always in the same spot always facing down I found found a photo dated 1962 that showed a family gathering the stairs were visible in the background and there was the figure 1975 Martha's birthday party the figure stood on the stairs behind the celebrating group 1989 a Christmas morning photo the figure lurked in the shadows of the stairwell while children opened presents in the foreground some of the photos had notes on the back most were just dates and names but one caught my eye it was

another shot of the stairs this one from 1983 Martha's handwriting on the back read it never leaves that spot I've learned to live with it I spent the next few hours spreading photos across the kitchen table arranging them chronologically the figure first appeared in photos from 1960 right after Martha moved into the house it was in every single photo of the stairs taken after that date always the same position always watching my rational mind tried to find explanations a trick of light and Shadow A Fault In the camera Martha playing some kind of decades long

prank but I knew what I'd felt on those stairs the heat the pressure the sensation of being watched I pulled out my phone and opened my photo gallery two weeks ago I'd taken some before pictures to document the renovation I scrolled to the ones I'd taken of the hallway and stairs my hand hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone there it was the same dark figure in my photos in my digital 21st century photos the sound of creaking wood made me jump it came from upstairs from the direction of the attic stairs

I sat absolutely still barely breathing another Creek like someone shifting their weight on Old boards the kitchen suddenly felt too exposed I grabbed the photos in my phone and retreated to my bedroom locking the door behind me I pushed a chair under the handle for good measure that was 4 hours ago I haven't heard any more noises but I can't sleep I keep staring at the photos spread across my bed trying to make sense of them trying to understand what's been watching me from those stairs the oldest photos show the house when it was first

built in the 1920s no figure on the stairs nothing unusual at all but something changed in 1960 what happened that year what brought that thing here I pull up my laptop and start searching through property records and old newspaper archives in 1960 Martha bought the house from the original owners the Henderson Family they'd lived here for 40 years without any reports of strange occurrences so what changed when Martha moved in I dig deeper into Martha's history she was a nurse at the local hospital from 1955 to 1985 never married lived alone kept to herself nothing

unusual stands out until I find an art I from 1960 it describes a fire at the hospital where Martha worked three people died including a patient named James Sullivan who was trapped in his room on the third floor my heart starts pounding as I read more Sullivan had been a long-term patient paralyzed from a car accident he was under Martha's care according to the article she tried to reach him during the fire but was pushed back by the Heat and smoke she watched from the stairs as his room burned the stairs she watched from the

stairs I think about the figure on my attic steps the way it always faces down watching the heat I feel whenever I get close the crushing pressure like someone desperately trying to move to push through an invisible barrier the sun is coming up now in a few hours I need to call a contractor about the electrical work in the upstairs hallway part of me wants to sell the house immediately to run from whatever entity has attached itself to those stairs but I keep thinking about Martha's note I've learned to live with it she stayed in

this house for over 50 years sharing it with whatever stands on those stairs did she feel guilty about not saving Sullivan did she understand that his presence wasn't meant to be threatening but watching waiting remembering I look at the most recent photo I took the one on my phone the figure is there as clear as ever but in the Morning Light it doesn't seem as menacing it looks patient like it's been standing guard all these years keeping vigil on those steps I get up and walk to my bedroom door I can hear the house settling

the normal creeks and groans of old wood but now there's something else a feeling I hadn't noticed before not fear exactly more like awareness acknowledgement I unlock the door and step into the hallway the attic stairs are visible at the end of the corridor I take a deep breath and walk toward them the heat starts immediately but I don't fight it this time the pressure builds between my shoulder blades and I let it come I stop at the bottom of the stairs and look up I can't see anything unusual but I know it's there watching

waiting maybe that's all it's ever done good morning I say quietly feeling slightly ridiculous talking to an empty staircase I'm going to be working on the wiring today I hope that's okay the pressure on my back eases slightly the heat Fades to a gentle warmth like sunlight through a window I take that as a yes I've been in this house for 6 months now the renovation is almost complete but I'm not sure I want to sell anymore there's something about this place about the presence that shares it with me Martha that maybe that's why she

left it to me I head to the kitchen to make coffee already planning my work for the day the stairs Creek behind me but I don't turn around some things I'm learning are better left unobserved some presences are meant to be felt not seen the figure will be there when I pass the stairs again standing its Eternal watch the Heat will come and the pressure and I'll know I'm not alone in this house it's not exactly Comfort but it's something close to it a shared vigil a quiet understanding I pour my coffee and look out

the kitchen window at the Rising Sun in a few hours the contractor will arrive and I'll have to explain why we need to work around the attic stairs why that section of the hallway needs to stay exactly as it is I'm not sure what I'll say how do you explain sharing your house with a shadow but that's a problem for later for now I sit with my coffee and listen to the old house wakeup around me somewhere above on the attic stairs my unusual housemate keeps its watch The Morning Light streams Through the Windows and

I feel the familiar warmth on my back constant as a heartbeat Steady As Time itself my hands are still shaking as I type this I need to get it down while it's fresh in my mind while I can still remember every detail it happened 3 hours ago on Route 23 that long stretch of road that cuts through Morrison County I've driven it hundreds of times but never like this never seen anything like this I was heading home from a late shift at the factory it was 2:47 a.m. I remember checking my phone at a stop

sign wondering if Sarah would still be awake when I got home the radio was playing some old country song Turned Down Low my headlights cut through the darkness illumin ating the yellow lines that seemed to stretch endlessly into the night the road was empty it always is at that hour just me my old Ford pickup and miles of corn fields on either side the Harvest was weeks ago leaving only dry stalks that rustled in the wind the moon hung full and bright overhead casting everything in that weird silver light that makes familiar things look strange

I first noticed something was off when my truck's temperature gauge started dropping it had been a cool night maybe 45° but suddenly the digital readout showed 38 then 35 then 32 my breath started fogging in front of my face the heater was still running full blast but it felt like someone had opened all the windows that's when I saw it in my peripheral vision something moving alongside the road keeping Pace with my truck I was doing about 50 math but whatever it was it matched my speed exactly at first I thought it was just Shadows

playing tricks on me or maybe a deer running parallel to the road but deer don't run that fast and they definitely don't run like that I slowed down to get a better look the figure slowed too staying perfectly aligned with my passenger side window it was running on two legs but the movement was all wrong the stride was too long too fluid like watching someone move under water except at highway speeds my headlights caught it full on when I turned slightly to the right the figure was tall maybe 7 ft but thin impossibly thin its

skin looked gray in the headlights but not like human skin more like wet clay or rubber no clothes no hair just that smooth uniform surface its arms were too long hanging down past where knees should be and they didn't swing as it ran they just trailed behind it like ribbons in the wind the head was the worst part it was elongated stretched back like it was being pulled by some invisible force where a face should have been there was just smooth featureless gray no eyes no mouth no nose just that blank stretched surface turned toward

me as it ran I hit the gas hard the engine roared and my truck lurched forward 60 MAF 70 75 the figure kept pace its legs moving in that impossible fluid motion at 80 MEF it started to fall behind but only lightly that's when it did something I'll never forget it turned its head that smooth featureless head a full 18 180° to face me while still running forward and then it changed Direction in one Instant without slowing down or turning its body it veered sharply right and disappeared into the woods that lined that stretch of

road I slammed on the brakes I don't know why maybe some primitive part of my brain needed to know what I'd just seen was real the truck screeched to a halt leaving long black marks on the asphalt I sat there engine idling hands gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles were white the temperature gauge started climbing back up 33 35 38 my breath stopped fogging the night seemed normal again except for one thing where the figure had turned into the woods there were marks on the road not Footprints exactly but depressions in the asphalt

like someone had taken a hot iron and pressed it into the surface leaving perfect oval shapes in a line leading into the trees I got out of the truck I had to see them up close the marks were about 18 in long and 8 in wide they were deep maybe 2 in into the solid asphalt and the edges were smooth like they'd been molded I touched one it was cold colder than the air around it my fingertips went n almost instantly the trail of marks LED Straight Into the Woods the trees were thick there Old

Oaks and Maples with heavy branches that blocked out the Moonlight I could see maybe 20 ft in where the marks continued in that straight line ignoring trees and undergrowth just pressing through everything in their path I took out my phone and started taking pictures they came out clear the marks were definitely there perfectly visible in the flash I took video to walking along the line of Impressions that's when I heard it a sound from deep in the woods like someone dragging something heavy through fallen leaves but fast too fast for anything natural I ran back

to my truck my hands were shaking so bad I dropped my keys twice before getting them in the ignition as I pulled away I kept checking my mirrors but the road behind me was empty just those marks in the asphalt getting smaller and smaller until they disappeared in the darkness I drove straight to the police station in Morrison officer Jenkins was on duty I've known him for years our kids go to the same school I showed him the pictures and videos he listened to my story without interrupting then made some calls by Sunrise there were

State Police and some other officials at the site they took samples of the marks measurements photographs asked me the same questions over and over that was 6 hours ago they're still out there from what I hear some kind of scientists showed up from the State University they're analyzing the marks running tests officer Jenkins called an hour ago to tell me they found something strange in the woods a trail of those same marks running for Miles straight as an arrow ignoring all obstacles trees rocks even a small stream nothing deflected the path I'm sitting at my

kitchen table now trying to make sense of it all Sarah's asleep upstairs I told her I got held up at work I haven't decided if I'm going to tell her what really happened how do you tell someone you saw something that shouldn't exist the local news is already picking up the story they're calling it a mysterious vandalism case or suggesting it might be some kind of elaborate prank but I know what I saw that figure running alongside my truck wasn't human the way it moved the impossible speed that blank face it was something else entirely

I've called in sick to work I can't face that drive home again not yet not while I keep seeing that smooth gray head turning to face me in my mind not while I remember the way it just changed Direction defying physics and everything I thought I knew about how things move in this world the police want me to come in later today to make a formal statement they're bringing in some experts from out of state they say people who deal with unusual phenomena I I don't know what to tell them how do you describe something

that shouldn't be possible I keep checking my phone looking at the pictures and videos I took they're still there still clear as day the marks in the asphalt the straight line disappearing into the woods proof that it wasn't just my imagination that something really did run alongside my truck last night at impossible speeds but there's something else bothering me something I noticed when I was reviewing the videos earlier in one of them when I was filming the marks leading into the woods there's a frame just one frame where something moves in the background it's blurry

and dark but I can make out that same elongated head turned at an impossible angle facing directly at the camera from between two trees I've tried to convince myself it's just a shadow or a trick of the light but I know what I saw and I Know It saw me too whatever that thing was it was aware it knew I was watching it and for some reason it wanted me to see it turn into those woods the temperature in my kitchen just dropped 10° the coffee in my mug is starting to frost over outside through

my window I can see the wind has picked up making the trees sway but the leaves are moving in the wrong direction like they're being pulled toward something I'm going to stop writing now I need to check all the doors and windows make sure everything's locked the Sun is up but somehow that doesn't make me feel any safer not when I know what's out there running faster than any human could leaving those impossible marks in its wake if you're driving on Route 23 late at night keep your eyes on the road don't look to the

side if you see movement in your peripheral vision and whatever you do don't stop if you see something running alongside your car just keep driving as fast as you can until you're somewhere with lights and people and normal things that move the way they're supposed to because now I know we're not alone out here in the dark there are things that share our world things that can run alongside our cars on empty rural roads things that leave marks in solid asphalt like its soft clay things that watch us with faces that aren't faces moving in

ways that shouldn't be possible I don't know what it was that I saw on Route 23 I don't know if I'll ever know but I do know one thing I'm never driving that road at night again some questions are better left unanswered answered some Mysteries should stay Mysteries the temperature is dropping again I need to go check the locks one more time and maybe just maybe I'll catch a glimpse of something tall and gray moving through my backyard its head turned at an impossible angle watching me with a face that isn't a face but this

time I won't stop to take pictures this time I'll do what I should have done on that dark Road keep moving keep going and try to forget what I saw because some things in this world aren't meant to be seen aren't meant to be understood some things should stay in the shadows running alongside empty roads in the dead of night leaving their impossible marks in their wake the first thump hit at 3:17 a.m. a heavy footstep on old wood followed by another and another someone was walking down the basement stairs in my brother Dave's house

except Dave was away on business in Seattle and I was alone in the house I sat up in the guest bed my t-shirt sticking to my back the steps continued their slow descent Thump Thump Thump my phone showed seven missed calls from my ex-wife and a 12% battery I'd forgotten to plug it in again the footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs a pause then they started again from the top I'd arrived at Dave's Place 3 days ago after Karen kicked me out third time this year she'd found the empty whiskey bottles I'd hidden in

the garage behind the Christmas decorations just until I get back on my feet I'd told Dave over the phone he'd sighed but said yes he always did the footsteps kept their Rhythm down pause start again from the top down pause start again my hands shook as I pulled on my jeans the guest room was on the second floor directly above the kitchen the basement door was in the kitchen I knew the layout well I'd helped Dave renovate the place 5 years ago before the drinking got bad before Karen started finding bottles Thump Thump Thump I

grabbed my phone's flashlight and the baseball bat from beside the bed Dave had left it there just in case when he showed me the room the steps creaked under my feet as I moved toward the hallway each sound felt too loud like they were competing with the footsteps below the kitchen was dark Moonlight cut through the windows casting Long Shadows across the lenium floor the basement door stood closed its outline barely visible in the darkness the footsteps continued their pattern behind it my throat was dry I needed a drink the thought came automatically followed by

the usual wave of Shame Focus the footsteps were the problem now focus on the footsteps I pressed my ear against the door the sounds were clearer now heavy boots on wooden stairs moving with mechanical Precision down pause start again from the top the wood didn't Creak like it should under that weight the steps sounded wrong my phone buzzed Karen's name lit up the screen not now I declined the call and my battery dropped to 11% the door handle was cold against my palm I tightened my grip on the bat thumb finding the worn spot where

the tape had peeled away the footsteps continued their Rhythm oblivious or uncaring about my presence I pulled the door open the hinges wind I should have oiled them when Dave asked last year the basement gaped below a mouth M of absolute darkness that swallowed my phone's weak light the footsteps stopped the silence pressed against my ears I could hear my own breathing too fast and shallow sweat rolled down my back the air from the basement carried the smell of old wood and Concrete dust then the footsteps started again from the top but I could see

the stairs now illuminated by my phone they were empty my light traced the steps 14 of them I remembered that from the renovation each one bare wood unfinished because Dave kept talking about carpeting them someday nothing moved on them but the footsteps descended Thump Thump Thump the sound reached the bottom paused and began again from the top my light showed nothing the stairs were empty but someone was walking down them over and over and over I stepped onto the first stair the wood creeped under my weight a different sound from The Phantom footsteps those were

heavier more final my phone battery dropped to 10% another step down the footsteps continued their pattern passing through the space Where I Stood no temperature change no brush of movement just the sound of boots on wood three steps down four the basement Darkness pressed closer my phone light caught the edges of Dave's workbench at the bottom of the St stairs his tools hanging in neat rows on the wall everything exactly where it should be halfway down now the footsteps kept their Pace walking through me as they descended my hands were slick with sweat on the

bat and phone nine steps down 10 the battery warning flashed 9% the footsteps reached the bottom again paused and started their descent once more I reached the basement floor concrete cold through my socks I'd forgotten shoes my light swept the space Dave's Workshop took up half the basement tables lined with projects in various stages of completion the other half was storage boxes of holiday decorations old furniture Karen's craft supplies from when she used to visit the footsteps continued above me now down pause reset down pause reset my phone caught something on Dave's workbench a paper

held down by a hammer Dave's handwriting rushed but readable John had to leave for Seattle early business emergency make yourself at home but don't go in the basement really important I mean it we'll explain when I get back Dave the footsteps kept their Rhythm my phone dimmed to save power 8% battery I should have gone back upstairs should have called Dave should have left the house should have done anything except what I did next but I'd spent 3 years making bad decisions Why Stop Now I moved deeper into the basement the footsteps continued their pattern

on the stairs behind me a metronomic rhythm of boots on wood my light caught more of Dave's Workshop the tools hung perfectly aligned on their hooks level measured Dave had always been the methodical one something was different about the tools I stepped closer each tool was secured to its outline on the wall but the outlines were wrong they didn't match the tools a hammer hung where a saw was outlined a wrench occupied the space marked for a drill I reached for the Hammer as my fingers touched the handle the footsteps stopped the silence hit like

a physical thing my breath sounded too loud in the sudden quiet the hammer felt wrong in my hand too light like it was Hollow behind me a new sound started not footsteps this time the scrape of metal on metal coming from deep in the storage area my phone flashed another warning 7% the light dimmed further the scraping grew louder something caught my light at the edge of the storage area a reflection where there shouldn't be one metal where Dave stored cardboard boxes I moved closer the boxes were wrong the they looked like cardboard from a

distance but up close I could see the truth metal painted to look like cardboard perfect replicas of moving boxes holiday decoration containers and storage bins the scraping sound came from behind them regular rhythmic like the footsteps had been my phone light showed gaps between the metal boxes spaces just wide enough to see through 6% battery I leaned forward pressing my eye to one of the gaps my light revealed more metal Beyond walls of it spanning the space where the storage room should be the scraping grew louder something moved in the darkness beyond the metal walls

something big my phone died the darkness was complete the scraping stopped then behind me the footsteps began again from the top of the stairs down pause reset I dropped the bat it hit the concrete with a clang that echoed off the metal walls not concrete more metal painted to look like concrete the storage boxes scraped against each other as something pushed them aside heavy steps approached not from the stairs this time but from the darkness beyond the false storage area I ran my feet found the stairs in the darkness muscle memory from helping install them

the Phantom footsteps continued their path pattern passing through me as I climbed my shoulder hit the wall real wood this time I could feel the difference 13 steps up 14 I slammed the basement door behind me and turned the lock for a moment nothing but my own gasping breath and the pounding of my heart then the footsteps started again down pause reset and beneath them a new sound metal scraping against metal growing louder I didn't pack didn't change didn't even put on shoes I grabbed my keys and ran the sun was Rising when I pulled

into the gas station 50 Mi away my hand shook as I plugged in my phone and dialed Dave's number he answered on the first ring John are you okay Dave I said what the hell is in your basement a long pause the footsteps echoed In My Memory down pause reset I can't tell you he said finally but you need to tell me exactly what you saw and you need to tell me if it saw you behind his voice I heard something a familiar sound muffled by distance and phone static footsteps walking downstairs I hung up

and started driving again I haven't stopped since the bottles stay in the trunk now untouched I need to stay sharp stay focused because sometimes when I let my guard down I hear them footsteps walking downstairs over and over and over and underneath them growing louder the sound of metal scraping against metal Karen keeps calling Dave too but I can't answer can't risk stopping can't risk sleeping too long in one place because the sound follows me now down pause reset always the same pattern always getting closer my car's been running fine handling the endless driving well

though lately the engine's been making an odd sound not the usual mechanical noises it sounds like footsteps walking downstairs the splintered door hung off its hinges when I pushed it the creek echoed through the empty Field behind my old family home 25 years since I'd last set foot in this barn but the musty smell hit me exactly the same hay rust and something else I couldn't Place something darker I stood in the doorway letting my eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through gaps in the wooden slats dust particles floated in the air the barn

looked smaller than I remembered but no less imposing my real estate agent had insisted i' check every structure on the property before listing it and this was the last one just a quick walk through I told myself then I could get back to Chicago and forget about this place again the floorboards groaned under my feet as I stepped inside broken farm equipment lay scattered around an old tractor with missing Wheels rusted tools I couldn't name empty feed bags rotting in Corners standard abandoned Barn stuff but something made the hair on my neck stand up a

feeling of being watched maybe or remembered I pulled out my phone's flashlight and swept the beam across the walls that's when I saw the first name carved deep into a wooden post about chest height Michael P below it Sarah K more names sprawled across the beam some so old they'd almost worn away my hand trembled slightly as I moved the light higher following the trail of carved letters then I froze there it was unmistakable David RNs my name in my own 12-year-old handwriting but I had no memory of carving it none at all a flutter

of movement caught my eye something had fallen from the ha Loft above drifting down in the shaft of light from a hole in the roof I walked over and picked it up a photograph old and creased the image showed a man standing in front of this very barn but his face had been scratched out with what looked like knife marks deep an angry scratches my throat went dry I remembered my Aunt Clara's warnings when I was a kid how she'd grab my arm if I wandered too close to the barn that place is cursed she'd

whisper has been since before you were born we all thought she was just being dramatic but now I heard a soft thump from above my pulse quickened probably just a bird I thought but I swept the flashlight beam up toward the ha Loft anyway more photographs were scattered across the wooden floor up there dozens of them the ladder to The Loft looked barely stable half the rungs missing or rotted through but I had to know I tested my weight on the first solid looking rung it held slowly I began to climb the Loft smelled worse

than below mold and decay in that same unidentifiable darkness my flashlight revealed more names carved everywhere covering every surface and photographs so many photographs spread out like some Twisted art installation all of different people all with their faces violently scratched out I picked up another photo this one was newer than the first maybe from the80s based on the clothes a family posing by a car their faces obliterated another showed what looked like a high school graduation another a wedding all to face the same way my foot hit something solid a metal box old old but

not rusted padlocked shut I grabbed it and nearly dropped it when I heard another sound from below like footsteps but dragging scraping I swung the flashlight toward the ladder nothing there but the sound came again closer my heart hammered against my ribs the temperature seemed to drop 10° in an instant I shoved the box under my arm and scrambled down the ladder not caring about the creaking wood my foot went through one rotten rung but I yanked it free and kept going the dragging sound followed but I refused to look back I burst out of

the barn into the late afternoon sun gasping the door slammed behind me with a bang that echoed across the empty Fields I stood there for several minutes just breathing the metal box heavy under my arm back in my rental car I examined the Box more closely the padlock was old but good quality I'd need tools to open it I glanced at the the barn in my rearview mirror as I drove away just weathered wood and broken windows but something shifted in one of those windows a shadow moving when it shouldn't have I called my Aunt

Clara that night from my hotel room she answered on the first ring like she'd been waiting you went in the barn she said not a question how did you I told you to sell that place without looking back some things need to stay buried David I I found my name carved in there Aunt Clara and photographs and this box what the hell happened in that Barn she was quiet for so long I thought the call had dropped then it started before you were born people would go missing not from our town but Travelers Drifters no

bodies ever found but sometimes their cars would turn up on the old road behind the farm my mouth went dry what are you saying your grandfather he he wasn't well David after the war something in him broke he'd have these episodes where he wouldn't remember things days would just disappear your grandmother tried to protect him protect all of us she locked up the barn but he always found a way back in I thought of all those scratched out faces my hands started shaking the police never proved anything Clara continued but people knew they stopped coming

around your father moved us all away when you were 13 told everyone it was for work but really the box I said did you know about a metal box another long silence don't open it David please some doors shouldn't be opened I hung up and stared at the Box sitting on the hotel desk the padlock gleamed in the Lamplight I could drive back to Chicago tomorrow throw the Box in Lake Michigan pretend I never found it list the property as is and let some developer tear it all down but I knew I wouldn't I needed

to know maybe not tonight but soon that was 3 days ago I'm still in the hotel staring at the box I bought bolt cutters this morning they're sitting next to it waiting every time I reach for them I hear my aunt's voice some doors shouldn't be opened but I keep thinking about my name carved in that beam when did I write it why don't I remember what else don't I remember the padlock feels cold under my fingers like it's been storing up Decades of Secrets waiting for someone to finally set them free maybe that someone

is Me Maybe it has to be me I pick up the bolt cutters their weight is reassuring solid real whatever's in this box I tell myself it's just paper just old photographs or letters or documents nothing that can hurt me now now the padlock breaks with a sharp snap inside I find a stack of notebooks my grandfather's journals dated from 1946 to 1981 the handwriting starts neat but grows increasingly erratic newspaper clippings about missing persons more photographs these ones unmarked and at the bottom a single envelope addressed to me and my grandmother's handwriting the letter

inside is short dear David if you're reading this you found your way back to the barn I'm sorry I tried to protect you from the truth but maybe that was wrong your grandfather wasn't evil the war changed him broke something inside that couldn't be fixed the barn it Amplified whatever was broken made him see things that weren't there made him do things he'd never do otherwise you were so young when it started affecting you too the nightmares the sleep walking finding you in the barn carving names you couldn't remember carving that's when your father and

I knew we had to get you away the barn feeds on Darkness David not evil just the regular Darkness we all carry inside us the regrets the anger the fear it takes those feelings and twists them makes them grow until they're not yours anymore I should have burned it down years ago but I couldn't because some small part of me still hoped your grandfather would come back to us that whatever the Barn took from him could be returned I was wrong burn it all David the barn the photographs these journals burn it and don't look

back don't let it take from you what it took from him with love Grandma Marie I set the letter down with shaking hands through my hotel window I can see the distant shape of the barn silhouetted against the Setting Sun even from here it seems to watch me to wait my phone rings making me jump it's Aunt Clara again did you open it she asks without Preamble yes she sigh heavily then you know what needs to be done I look at the journal spread across the hotel bed so many secrets so many answers but my

grandmother was right some answers aren't worth the cost I'll take care of it tonight I tell Clara be careful she says that place it doesn't like to let go easily I hang up and start Gathering the journals and photographs the sun has almost set painting the sky blood red in a few hours it will be dark enough I have the gasoline in my car bought it this morning along with the bolt cutters 5 gallons should be enough more than enough the barn can keep its Darkness tonight I'm giving it back to the light but first

I need to make one last trip inside one last climb up to that Hay Loft I need to find my name among all those carvings and do what I should have done 25 years ago cut it out remove all Trace that I was ever there that any of us were ever there some chains need to be broken some curses need to end and sometimes the only way forward is to burn the past to ashes and start again I check my pocket for the matchbox it's there waiting in a few hours that Barn will be nothing

nothing but memories and smoke but for now I sit in my hotel room watching the sun sink behind it watching shadows gather in its broken windows wondering if somewhere in those Twisted beams and rotting boards my grandfather's Darkness still lingers still Waits night is falling it's almost time I stand and gather my supplies flashlight knife gasoline matches the barn has taken enough from my family tonight I take something back peace closure a clean slate the sun slips below the Horizon Darkness Falls I grab my car keys it's time to end this three people died in

this apartment in 1954 I know this now I wish I didn't I found the listing online a steel for a one-bedroom in downtown Boston the building dated back to the 1920s all brick and ornate moldings the real estate agent mentioned its historic charm at least five times during the showing what she didn't mention was why the rent was so low or why the previous tenant had left all their Furniture behind I moved in on a Tuesday the first night was fine the second night too on the third night I woke up at 3 17 a.m.

to the sound of whispering at first I thought it was coming from the walls maybe the pipes or the ventilation system in this old building but as I lay there in bed The Whispers got clearer they weren't forming words exactly but they had a rhythm to them like multiple people having a conversation just below the threshold of comprehension I got up and walked through the apartment The Whispers stopped the living room felt like a freezer compared to my bedroom my breath came out invisible Puffs I checked the thermostat 72° but my hands were shaking from

the cold the next morning I ran into my neighbor in the hallway Mrs Chen from 4B she was taking out her trash moving slowly with her cane how are you liking the apartment she asked it's good though the heating seems a bit uneven she gave me a long look how long have you been here 3 days she nodded slowly that's about right they usually don't make it past a week what do you mean the cold spots The Whispers you've noticed them haven't you my stomach dropped how did you I've lived here 30 years seen a

lot of people come and go from that unit they all leave within 7 days something about that apartment isn't right I wanted to laugh it off but my mouth was dry what happened there murder suicide 1954 a man killed his wife and daughter then himself the police found them all in the bathtub that night I couldn't sleep every Creek of the old building made me jump around 2:00 a.m. the temperature dropped again the cold spot had moved to my bedroom this time The Whispers started closer than before I turned on all the lights and sat

in the living room with the TV on around 4:00 a.m. the screen started flickering the whisper ERS got louder a dark shape moved in my peripheral vision when the sun came up I called the real estate agent she didn't sound surprised when I said I wanted to break my lease just sighed and said she'd email me the paperwork I started packing that afternoon as I was taking down clothes from the closet a child's laugh echoed through the apartment high and clear then a woman's scream cut short I ran out with just my backpack and laptop

left everything else behind Mrs Chen was in the hallway again 4 days she said longer than most I slept at a hotel that night when I went back the next day with some friends to get my stuff the apartment was empty not just of my things all the furniture from the previous tenant was gone too the rooms were completely bare like no one had ever lived there the real estate agent denied there had ever been Furniture in the apartment said I must be confused but I have photos on my phone from movein day showing the

old couch the dining table the bed I tried researching the 1954 murders found nothing in newspaper archives asked Mrs Chen about it again but her daughter said she'd moved to Florida months ago the current tenant in 4B had never heard of her sometimes I drive by the building late at night the windows of my old apartment are always dark but sometimes when I look up at just the right moment I see shapes moving behind the glass and even from the street I swear I can hear Whispers The for rent sign has been up for six

months now the price keeps dropping I wonder how many people have tried to live there since me how many have lasted the full week I have a new apartment now in a different part of the city Modern building concrete and steel no history no charm no cold spots I keep the heat on even in summer and I never look at apartment listings in historic buildings anymore but sometimes late at night I still hear those Whispers not from the walls or the pipes from my own memory and I know that somewhere in that old brick building

downtown in that apartment with the ornate moldings and the low rent someone else is hearing them too for the first time for what will probably be their last week there because no one ever makes it past 7even days the ghosts make sure of that the first scream came at 11:42 p.m. I checked my watch because I wanted to note exactly when everything went wrong I was stacking boxes of Auto Parts in Isle e47 of the Morgan and Sun's Warehouse when I heard it a muffled cry that sounded like someone had their mouth covered I froze

with a timing belt box in my hands the fluorescent lights buzzed over head casting harsh Shadows between the tall metal shelves that stretched up toward the ceiling on the night shift I was used to being alone with just the hum of the ventilation system and the beeping of the occasional forklift backing up but this sound was different human wrong my first thought was that Jimmy from receiving had hurt himself again last month he dropped a transmission on his foot and screamed so loud security came running but Jimmy's shift ended at 10 and besides this sound

was too desperate I set the box down slowly trying not to make any noise the concrete floor felt hard through my steel toed boots as I stood completely still listening for 10 seconds nothing but the usual Warehouse sounds then movement caught my eye a shadow sliding between the shelves three aisles over visible through gaps in the Stacked inventory hello I called out my voice echoed off the metal shelving no response I should have called security right then should have pulled out my phone and dialed the front desk where Mark sat watching his Netflix shows but

something held me back maybe the fear of looking stupid if it turned out to be nothing or maybe just plain old curiosity instead I started walking toward where I'd seen the movement the wheels of my pallet jack squeaked as I pushed it aside each step echoed slightly in the cavernous space I passed Isle e48 then e49 moving as quietly as I could while scanning between the shelves the white labels on the boxes seemed to Glow in the fluorescent light brake pads fuel pumps alternators everything in its assigned place except for whatever was moving in the

shadows another scream pierced the silence closer this time and clearly female it was followed by the sound of boxes falling in a man's voice saying shut up the words were harsh angry my heart started pounding against my ribs I pulled my phone out finger hovering over the keypad but before I could dial I heard running footsteps coming toward me I ducked behind a pallet of oil filters just as two figures sprinted past the end of my aisle the first was a woman in a torn blouse her dark hair wilded around her face blood ran from

her nose and her eyes were wide with Terror close behind her was a man in dark clothes reaching for her with gloved hands they disappeared around the corner toward the loading Ducks my hands shook as I tried to dial security I fumbled and dropped the phone it clattered on the concrete floor the sound impossibly loud in the quiet Warehouse I heard the running footsteps stop what was that the man's voice growled check it out new footsteps approached slower deliberate I pressed myself against the boxes hardly daring to breathe a shadow fell across the floor at

the end of my aisle I could either stay hidden and hope they didn't find me or run neither option seemed good the footsteps came closer I saw the toe of a black boot Edge into view my muscles tensed ready to Sprint then a crash echoed from the direction of the loading docks followed by another Scream the boot disappeared as its owner ran toward the sound I snatched up my phone and finally managed to dial security it rang four times before Mark answered front desk he said sounding bored Mark there's someone in the warehouse two people

a woman I think she's hurt call the police whoa slow down what another crash interrupted him followed by the sound of shattering glass it came from the shipping office just call the police I hung up and started running toward the noise looking back I can't explain why I ran toward danger instead of away from it maybe I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to that woman while I hid maybe I was just stupid the shipping office was a small room with Windows looking out over the loading dock as I approached I saw that one

of the windows was broken glass crunched under my boots the woman was backed into a corner holding a pair of scissors in front of her like a knife the man in dark clothes stood between her and the door just come quietly and this will be easier he said his voice eerily calm now you're only making it worse stay back the woman's voice shook took but her hands were steady on the scissors I looked around frantically for a weapon there was a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall near me I grabbed it just as the man

lunged for the woman she slashed with the scissors catching his arm he cursed and stumbled back I burst through the door and swung the fire extinguisher at his head he must have heard me coming he spun and caught the extinguisher yanking it from my hands his face was covered by a black ski mask cold blue eyes locked onto mine bad choice he said his fist slammed into my stomach the air rushed out of my lungs and I doubled over he brought his knee up into my face pain exploded through my nose I tasted blood the

woman screamed and charged forward with the scissors the man turned to face her giving me a chance to tackle him from behind we crashed into a desk sending papers and a computer monitor flying I tried to get my arm around his throat but he was stronger than me me his elbow smashed into my ribs once twice three times my grip loosened he twisted free and threw me off I hit the ground hard through blurry vision I saw him pull something from his jacket a gun enough he shouted pointing it at me then the woman both

of you on the ground now I lay there gasping blood running down my face the woman slowly lowered herself to her knees still gripping the scissors drop them the man ordered she let the scissors clatter to the floor tears ran down her cheeks but her eyes burned with hatred you should have just given me what I wanted the man said now red and blue light suddenly strobed through the broken window a police siren wailed in the parking lot freeze police a voice boomed over a loudspeaker the man's head snapped toward the window in that moment

of distraction the woman do for the scissors he turned back and fired the gun was deafening in the small office but she'd already rolled behind a filing cabinet the bullet punched through metal I launched myself at his legs we went down together wrestling for the gun his mask was a skew revealing part of a pale stubble jaw he slammed the butt of the gun into my temple Stars burst across my vision then the woman was there driving the scissors into his shoulder he screamed and the gun went off again the bullet hitting the ceiling I

managed to knock the weapon from his hand it skittered across the floor the man threw me off and stumbled to his feet blood spread across his jacket from the scissors still embedded in his shoulder he yanked them out with a grunt of pain and ran for the loading dock stop police officers were streaming in through the rear entrance guns drawn the man V vaulted over a stack of pallets and disappeared into the Maze of shelves gunshots echoed through the warehouse I lay on the office floor everything spinning around me the woman knelt beside me are

you okay her hands fluttered over my injuries I think so I managed you she nodded then burst into tears I sat up slowly and put an arm around her shoulders as police officers rushed past us in pursuit of the man they caught him trying to climb the security fence behind the building later I learned the full story the woman Sarah Chen was an accountant who had discovered evidence of money laundering at her firm the man was hired muscle scent to silence her she'd fled when he tried to grab her outside her home eventually taking refuge

in what she thought was an empty Warehouse I spent the night in the hospital getting stitches and x-rays broken nose two cracked ribs mild concussion could have been worse Sarah visited me the next day with coffee and donuts she had a black black eye and her arm was in a sling but she was alive thank you she said for helping a complete stranger I Shrugged then winced at the pain in my ribs couldn't just hide while something bad happened she squeezed my hand most people would have maybe she was right but sitting there in that

hospital room battered but alive I knew I'd do it again not because I'm brave or heroic I'm not I was terrified the whole time but sometimes you have to act despite the fear sometimes hiding isn't an option I still work the night shift at the warehouse the shipping office window is fixed and the blood stains are cleaned up everything looks normal but sometimes when I'm alone among the Towering shelves I remember the sound of those screams the flash of scissors the weight of the fire extinguisher in my hands I remember the choice I made the

official incident report lists it as an attempted kidnapping interrupted by Warehouse employee Michael Torres just another crime statistic but I know the truth of what happened that night how close it came to ending differently how thin the line is between life and death between acting and hiding Sarah and I still meet for coffee sometimes we don't talk much about that night we don't need to we both carry the memories the scars the knowledge of what humans are capable of both the evil and the good and late at night when I hear unexpected sounds in the

warehouse I don't hesitate anymore I call security immediately but I keep the fire extinguisher close just in case some lessons you only need to learn once something was moving outside my window at 3:47 a.m. I know the exact time because I checked my phone when the noise woke me up it wasn't like any animal sound I'd heard before not a deer not a raccoon not even a bear the noise came again a wet clicking sound followed by something heavy dragging across the ground I sat up in bed my heart already beating faster the rental cabin

creaked around me I'd picked this place specifically because it was isolated 2 miles down a dirt road from the nearest neighbor surrounded by dense forest on all sides perfect for a weekend of writing and clearing my head after the divorce now that isolation felt like a mistake the sound came closer to my window click click drag click click drag my mouth went dry I could hear breathing now deep raspy breaths that seemed to rattle in a chest much larger than any local Wildlife should have I reached for the flashlight on the nightstand knocking over an

empty water glass in the process the glass hit the wooden floor with a loud thunk the breathing and clicking outside stopped immediately I whispered the silence stretched out heavy and expectant my own breathing sounded too loud in my ears after 30 seconds of complete quiet I heard it moving again but now it was heading around to the front of the cabin the wooden porch boards groaned under its weight based on the sound whatever was out there had to be at least as heavy as a full-grown man I stood up slowly trying to avoid making the

floorboards Creak the flashlight felt slick in my sweaty Palm I was wearing just boxers and a T-shirt and the cool air raised Goosebumps on my legs my phone showed no signal of course not that's why I'd chosen this place the thing outside moved across the porch with slow deliberate steps each footfall made the old boards groan it stopped in front of the cabin's front door I heard that wet clicking sound again closer now followed by what sounded like claws scraping against wood I had two choices I could stay in the bedroom and hope it went

away or I could try to get a look at whatever was out there the rational part of my brain said to stay put but there was another part the part that made me stop to look at car accidents the part that made me read about True Crime before bed that needed to know I crept to my bedroom door and eased it open wincing at the slight squeak of of the hinges the cabin's main room was dark except for a slice of moonlight coming through the front windows the scratching at the door had stopped my bare

feet made no sound on the floor as I moved forward I could see the door now a solid piece of Oak with a small window at head height the Moonlight was bright enough that I should be able to see anything large moving out there I was 10 ft from the door when a shadow passed across the window my heart slammed against my ribs the shadow had been too tall too wrong in its proportions to be human I raised the flashlight but kept it off not sure if I really wanted to illuminate whatever was on the

other side of that door the door handle rattled not like something was trying to turn it more like something was testing it exploring what it was the rattling stopped and I heard that clicking sound right on the other side of the door followed by what could have been sniffing my curiosity finally overcame my fear I thumbed the flashlight switch and aimed it at the window two eyes reflected the beam back at me but they were all wrong they were huge the size of soft balls and they glowed a pale green like a cat's eyes in

headlights but these weren't Cat's Eyes they were set too wide apart and they were looking down at me from at least 7 ft off the ground I stumbled backward the flashlight beam jerking away from the window when I got it aimed back the eyes were gone but now I could hear movement on the porch lots of movement like something big was pacing back and forth the clicking sound came again but this time I could see what was making it a long pale appendage something between an arm and a tentacle snaked into view through the window

it was a sickly white color and jointed in all the wrong places the clicking came from what looked like hard ridges or plates running along its length the appendage probed at the window frame testing it my back hit the kitchen counter I fumbled behind me without taking my eyes off the window and my hand closed around a knife handle in the dish drain it wasn't much but it was better than nothing the appendage withdrew from the window for a moment everything was quiet then the whole door shuttered in its frame as something slammed against it

from outside I nearly dropped the flashlight the door held but another impact made the hinges Creak whatever was out there was trying to get in and based on the force of those hits the door wouldn't hold for long I ran back to the bedroom my feet slapping against the floor I grabbed my phone and car keys pulled on the first pair of pants I could find and shoved my feet into my boots without bothering with socks another crash from the front door louder this time the bedroom window it was my only way out I could

hear the front door splintering as I wrestled with the window's old paint stuck frame it finally came loose with a screech of wood on wood the cool night air hit my face as as I stuck my head out and looked down the bedroom window was about 6 ft off the ground a hard Landing but survivable behind me I heard the front door finally give way with a crack of breaking wood I didn't hesitate I dove through the window head first tucking my shoulder like I remembered from high school sports I hit the ground and rolled

the impact knocking the wind out of me the flashlight went flying into the darkness as I struggled to my feet gasping for air I heard something large moving through the cabin the sound of furniture being knocked over of claws or talons scraping across wood it knew I'd been there moments ago I ran the rental car was parked 30 yards away just visible in the Moonlight behind me I heard the creature moving fast through the cabin the window frame splintered as something much too big shoved its way through it I fumbled with the key fob pressing

the unlock button repeatedly the car's lights flashed and I heard the locks click almost there 10 more yards something hit the ground behind me with a heavy thud the clicking sound was faster now excited I could hear it moving its strange gate covering ground quickly 5 yards to the car I reached for the door handle a pale shape rose up in my peripheral vision something wrapped around my ankle one of those wrong jointed appendages its surface rough like sandpaper I was yanked off my feet the key file Bob flying from my hand I hit the

ground hard the thing started dragging me backward toward the darkness beyond the car I kicked out with my free leg and connected with something solid the grip on my ankle loosened for a moment I rolled onto my back pulling the knife from my pocket in the Moonlight I finally got a clear look at what had me it was huge 9 ft tall at least its body a pale white that seemed to Glow faintly in the darkness the main mass of its body was vaguely humanoid but that's where any resemblance to anything normal ended four of

those jointed appendages extended from its torso each one at least 8 ft long they moved independently weaving through the air like snakes its head was the worst part it was too wide with no real face to speak of just those huge green eyes and what looked like a mass of smaller tentacles where a mouth should be the tentacles wed and twisted and that clicking sound came from from small hard plates running along their length the creature pulled me closer I slashed out with the knife catching one of the appendages a clear fluid leaked from the

cut and the creature made a sound a high-pitched keing that made my teeth hurt it released my ankle I scrambled backward got my feet under me and ran not for the car I'd lost the keys in the scuffle and looking for them would take too long instead I ran for the trees I could hear it pursuing in me its strange Locomotion covering ground fast the forest was dark but the Moonlight provided enough illumination to avoid running straight into trees branches whipped at my face as I ran the thing behind me moved through the underbrush like

it wasn't there that clicking sound getting closer I lost track of how long I ran my lungs burned and my legs felt like lead but I could still hear it behind me never more than 20 yard back sometimes it would get closer and I'd feel one of those appendages swish through the air just behind my head the ground started to slope upward I was running uphill now my already burning legs protesting the extra effort but I knew this area from hiking earlier there was an old fire tower at the top of this hill if I

could reach it maybe I could I didn't get to finish that thought my foot caught on an exposed route and I went down hard before I could get up something wrapped around my waist and lifted me into the air I was turned around to face the creature those giant green eyes stared at me and the mass of tentacles around its mouth region writhed faster up close I could smell it a strange chemical smell like ozone and rotting vegetation more of those appendages wrapped around my arms and legs holding me spread eagle in the air the

knife was still in my hand but I couldn't move my arm enough to use it the creature brought my face close to its own those mouth tentacles reaching toward me that's when I heard the helicopter the sound was distant at first but growing louder quickly the creature's head snapped up those big eyes reflecting Moonlight as it looked toward the sound the grip on my limbs loosened slightly a bright light suddenly swept over us as the helicopter crested the hill the creature made that Keening sound again and dropped me I hit the ground hard but managed

to roll away the helicopter was military I could see that now a spotlight mounted on its side illuminated the creature which was backing away from the light more helicopters appeared over the hill all training spotlights on the creature men were fast roping down from the helicopters now dressed in what looked like hazmat suits They Carried strange-looking weapons that hummed with electricity the creature keened again and tried to retreat but it was surrounded blue white lightning arked from the weapons striking the creature it convulsed those long appendages thrashing wildly more bolts hit it until it finally

collapsed someone grabbed my arm I spun around knife raised but it was another person in a hazmat suit Mr Peterson a voice said through the suit speaker I'm agent Sarah Chen Department of special containment we need you to come with us I looked back at the creature men in suits were approaching it cautiously weapons ready one of them was unfolding what looked like a large metallic net what what is that thing I asked that's classified agent Chen said but you're not the first person to encounter one come on we need to get you debriefed and

you'll need to sign some paperwork she led me toward one of the helicopters that had landed in a small clearing as we walked I could hear the creature being loaded into some kind of container there are more of them I asked agent Chen was quiet for a moment Mr Peterson the best thing you can do right now is try to forget this ever happened trust me on that I looked back one last time the creature was almost completely covered by the metallic net now one of those long pale appendages twitched once then went still the

helicopter lifted off a few minutes later through the window I could see more helicopters arriving carrying what looked like large pieces of equipment agent Chen handed me a thick stack of papers and a pen start with the non-disclosure agreement she said and Mr Peterson welcome to a much bigger world than you knew existed I started signing papers as the helicopter turned South leaving behind my rental cabin and the thing that had been waiting in the darkness but even as we flew away I couldn't shake the feeling that there were more of the them out there

hiding in remote places waiting to be found or maybe I thought as I signed another form waiting to find us I never should have bought this house that's what I keep telling myself as I sit here in my bedroom back pressed against the headboard listening to the heavy footsteps downstairs they're moving through my kitchen right now I can tell because the old lenium floor squeaks in that specific way the same way it does when I walk across it but I'm not walking across it I'm up here gripping my phone trying to decide if I should

call the police again the thing is they've already been here twice both times they found nothing no signs of forced entry no evidence of an intruder just those damn muddy bootprints that keep appearing every morning it started 3 weeks ago right after I closed on the house I got it for a steal foreclosure needed work but the bones were good that's what my realtor kept saying the bones are good Mark yeah the bones might be good but something else isn't right here the first morning after I moved in I found them muddy bootprints on the

front porch size 12 or 13 work boots from the Treads they LED right up to my front door then disappeared at first I thought maybe it was the previous owner coming back to check on the place out out of habit but when I asked around I learned he died 6 months ago heart attack in the upstairs bathroom I cleaned the prce off the porch that morning the mud was thick reddish brown like clay but it hadn't rained in weeks and the ground around the house was bone dry I checked the whole property no matching Footprints

anywhere else no source for that particular type of mud the next morning they were back same size same mud same pattern leading to the door I cleaned them again and again the next day and the next for 2 weeks straight every single morning those bootprints would appear overnight I installed security cameras nothing showed up on the footage the prince would just be there in the morning like they materialized out of thin air I called the police the first time after reviewing that footage they came out took a report found nothing called them again 3 days

later say same result the neighbors haven't seen anything unusual Mrs Rodriguez next door has one of those ring doorbells nothing on her footage either I even put down flower on the porch one night thinking I'd catch other prints or signs of tampering in the morning the bootprints were there in the flower but they hadn't Disturbed the rest of it like someone just stepped down from above I started sleeping badly every little noise would jerk me awake I'd lie there in the dark straining to hear anything out of place but there was never anything definitive just

the normal settling sounds of an old house at least that's what I told myself until tonight I went to bed around 11:00 same as usual checked all the doors and windows locked security system armed cameras running I just started to drift off when I heard it a distinct footstep on the front porch that Hollow wooden sound of a boot on Old boards my eyes snapped open I lay perfectly still barely breathing listening another step then another they crossed the porch slowly deliberately when they reached the door I heard something that made my skin crawl the

sound of a key turning in the lock but that was impossible I'd had all the locks changed when I moved in I had the only Keys the door opened the hinges didn't even Creak they never do I'd oiled them myself last weekend the footsteps entered my house that's when I grabbed my phone and retreated to my bedroom I wanted to run to get out of the house but the footsteps were in the foyer between me and the front door the back door was downstairs too I was trapped up here they're in the living room now

the footsteps are slow methodical like they're searching for something or someone my phone shows no signal of course it doesn't it never has good reception in this house one of the many quirks I was planning to fix the footsteps are moving to the stairs the first step Creeks it always does another thing on my to-do list Second Step third they're coming up I press myself harder against the headboard my heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat fourth step fifth the footsteps reach the landing they pause I'm holding my breath in

the darkness I can see a shadow pass across the crack under my door the handle starts to turn the door opens nothing just empty darkness in the hallway but the footsteps I hear them in my room now on my hardwood floors getting closer to my bed the weight of something heavy sits on the edge of my mattress I feel the Springs compress I squeeze my eyes shut this isn't real it can't be real you bought my house the voice is deep grally like someone who smoked two packs a day for 40 years I force my

eyes open there's no one there but the weight on my mattress remains you your house my voice comes out as a whisper lived here 43 years died here here too upstairs bathroom Hart gave out while I was fixing the leaky shower head the voice comes from the empty space at the foot of my bed still needs fixing by the way my mind races to the disclosure documents the previous owner Harold Mitchell died in the house 6 months ago his kid sold it to the bank the bank sold it to me Mr Mitchell a low chuckle

call me Harry everyone did why why are you here this is my house the weight shifts on the mattress spent my whole life fixing it up never quite finished always something else to do but you're dead yeah doesn't mean I'm done here though I swallow hard my throat is dry the bootprints had to check on the place make sure you're taking care of it another shift in the mattress you've been doing okay oiled those hinges now nice but that shower head's still dripping furnace filter needs changing too this is insane I'm talking to an empty

room maybe I'm Dreaming maybe I finally cracked under the stress not dreaming son not crazy either just having a conversation with the previous owner The Voice moves closer look I'm not here to scare you well not anymore had my fun with the boots I'll admit but really I just want to make sure my house is in good hands so you're not going to hurt me a snort what for you seem like a decent guy taking care of the place making improvements That's All I Ever Wanted Someone to Love This Old House like I did the

weight lifts from my mattress footsteps move toward my door I'll stop with the bootprints was getting tired of that anyway but I'll be around keeping an eye on things the footsteps pause at the door way oh and check that furnace filter tomorrow trust me on that one the footsteps move down the hallway down the stairs through the living room the front door opens and closes then silence I sit there for hours waiting for Sunrise when the first light finally creeps through my window I force myself to get up my legs are shaky but I make

myself walk downstairs there are bootprints on my floor big ones size 12 or 133 made of reddish brown mud they lead from my front door through the house up the stairs into my room and back out again I follow them to my basement door something compels me to go down and check the furnace the filter is black with dust completely clogged I change it right then and there when I come back upstairs the bootprints are gone every last one of them that was 2 months ago I haven't seen any more bootprints since then but sometimes

when I'm working on the house I hear a grunt of approval or a muttered suggestion about what tool would work better once when I was about to cut a pipe without turning off the water man a Gruff voice said wouldn't do that if I were you I've stopped being afraid now when I hear those heavy footsteps at night I just smile and say evening Harry sometimes he answers sometimes he doesn't but I know he's watching making sure his house is in good hands I check the furnace filter regularly now haven't gotten around to fixing that

showerhead yet though but I will after all I've got a very persistent previous owner making sure I keep up with the maintenance you might think I'm crazy maybe I am but here's the thing I've never felt safer in a house how many people can say they have a ghost as their home inspector oh and if you're wondering about those security cameras I installed they're still running still don't show anything but every once in a while when I review the footage I catch a weird static Flicker and if I pause it just right sometimes I can

make out what looks like a tall figure in work boots carrying a tool belt I guess some people never really leave their homes and sometimes if you're lucky they stick around to help you make it your home too the shower's dripping again I should probably fix that I think I hear footsteps heading toward the bathroom sounds like Harry's getting impatient better get my tools I shouldn't have gone back to that Creek Looking Back Now every rational part of me knows that but I did go back again and again until I found out what those Whispers

meant I wish I hadn't it started 3 weeks ago on what should have been a normal hiking trip with my friends Mike and Sarah we'd done this Trail dozens of times before it was our go-to weekend escape from Boston a 4-Hour drive into the White Mountains of New Hampshire the Lancaster Trail wasn't on any tourist Maps Mike had discovered it years ago during his Forest Service days and we liked it that way no crowds no selfie taking tourists just pure Wilderness the morning started like any other we parked Mike Subaru at the unmarked trail head

at 7:00 a.m. sharp the air was crisp early October in New England when the leaves are just starting to turn but haven't peaked yet Sarah handed out the trail mix she always made heavy on the M&M's light on the raisins she knew my preferences Mike did his usual equipment check making sure we had enough water and our emergency gear was in order we'd been hiking for about 2 hours when I first noticed something was off the trail had been winding steadily uphill following an Old Logging Road before veering off into denser Forest that's when I

heard it a sound so faint I almost convinced myself it was just the wind in the trees almost hold up I said stopping in my tracks Mike and Sarah continued a few steps before turning back what's up Dan Mike asked adjusting his pack you guys hear that they both went quiet listening the forest sounds continued wind in the branches a woodpecker somewhere in the distance the crunch of leaves under our boots here what Sarah asked after a moment I held up my hand for silence again there it was a whisper like someone talking very quietly

just at the edge of hearing it seemed to be coming from off Trail down toward where I could hear running water there's someone down there I said pointing toward the sound of the creek Mike shook his head we're 8 mil from the nearest Road Dan nobody comes out here I'm telling you I hear voices like Whispers Sarah gave me that look she gets when she thinks I'm being dramatic it's probably just the water sound carries weird in the mountains I wanted to believe her it would have been easier but I knew what I heard wasn't

water water doesn't form words even if you can't quite make them out I'm going to check it out I said already stepping off the trail Dan come on Mike called after me we've got four more miles to the camping spot 5 minutes just let me look the slope down to the creek was Steep and slippery with wet leaves I had to grab onto saplings to keep from sliding The Whispers got clearer as I descended definitely voices definitely more than one Speaking In Low urgent tones but I still couldn't make out the words the creek came

into view through the trees it wasn't much more than a stream really maybe 6 ft across tumbling over moss covered rocks The Whispers were loud now seeming to come from just around a bend in the creek bed hello I called out the Whispers stopped instantly I moved forward carefully scanning the area there was nobody there no camping gear no footprints in the mud by the water's edge no signs anyone had been there at all the only sound was the running water Dan Mike's voice came from up on the trail you okay down there yeah I

called back still looking around I'll be right up I stood there for another minute trying to understand what I'd heard The Whispers didn't return eventually I made my way back up to my friends find your mystery people Sarah asked with a slight smirk no I admitted but I swear I heard something probably just tired Mike said clapping me on the shoulder come on let's make some miles we continued hiking but but I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling every few minutes I'd catch myself straining to hear The Whispers again they didn't return but the memory of

them stayed with me we made it to our camping spot just before Sunset it was a small clearing on a ridge with a fire pit previous hikers had built as Mike and Sarah set up their tent I gathered firewood trying to stay busy to keep my mind off what had happened that night around the campfire I almost brought it up again but I could already imagine their reactions more concerned looks more gentle suggestions that I was just tired or imagining things so I kept quiet roasting marshmallows and listening to Mike's story about the bear he'd

encountered last summer we hiked out the next morning without incident The Whispers didn't return and by the time we reached the car I'd almost convinced myself Sarah was right just water sounds Playing Tricks on my ears that should have been the end of it a weird experience to tell at parties nothing more but 3 days later I couldn't stop thinking about it I was sitting at my desk at work supposedly reviewing quarterly reports but really just staring at my computer screen replaying those Whispers in my head I opened Google and started searching at first I

just looked up the general area Lancaster Trail White Mountains hiking reports nothing unusual came up then I tried adding terms like strange sounds and Whispers still nothing I was about to give up when I found an old Forum post from 2012 someone hiking in the same area had reported hearing voices in the woods near a stream the post didn't have many details but it was enough to make my skin crawl that night I dug deeper I found local newspaper archives going back to the 1950s most of it was usual small town news county fairs Town

meetings lost dogs but in 1978 there was a story that caught my eye a search and rescue operation for a missing hiker had focused on an area near Lancaster Trail they never found him but one of the rescue team members reported hearing strange voices during the search I had to know more I called in sick to work on Friday and drove back up to New Hampshire I told myself I was being ridiculous but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something there something important this time I came prepared I brought a digital voice recorder

a better flashlight and a more detailed map of the area I also brought my GPS to Mark exactly where I'd heard The Whispers the trail felt different alone every snapping twig made me jump the forest seemed darker more closed in it took me longer to reach the spot without Mike setting the pace but around noon I recognized the section of Trail where we'd stopped before I marked my location on the GPS and started down toward the creek again the slope seemed steeper than I remembered halfway down I turned on the voice recorder the creek was

running higher than last time we'd had rain earlier in the week I stood there for a long time just listening nothing but water sounds and bird calls hello I called out feeling foolish is anyone there no response I walked along the creek Bank careful not to slip on the wet rocks after about 10 minutes I was ready to give up then I heard it The Whispers started so quietly I almost missed them but they were there clearer than before multiple voices speaking quickly urgently they seemed to be coming from the other side of the creek

I fumbled with the voice recorder making sure it was still running carefully I stepped onto the first rock to cross the creek The Whispers got louder I could almost make out words now halfway across the creek my foot slipped I caught myself before falling but the voice recorder wasn't so lucky it flew from my hand and hit a rock before falling into the water I watched helplessly as the current carried it Downstream The Whispers stopped again I stood there on that rock in the middle of the creek heart pounding wondering what to do next that's

when I noticed something strange about the opposite Bank there was a small opening in the Rocks I hadn't seen before partially hidden by ferns it looked like the entrance to a cave or tunnel The Whispers started again definitely coming from that direction I knew I should leave everything I'd learned about Wilderness safety told me not to enter unknown caves alone but I'd come too far to turn back now I finished crossing the creek and approached the opening it was larger than it had looked from the creek about 4 ft high and 3 ft wide The

Whispers were clearer now but I still couldn't make out the words they seemed to be coming from deep inside I took out my flashlight and shined it into the opening the beam revealed a narrow tunnel sloping downward the walls were smooth almost too smooth to be natural water trickled down one side and the air coming from inside was cold I had to crouch to enter the tunnel extended about 20 ft before making a sharp turn to the right The Whispers echoed off the walls making it impossible to tell how far away they were after the

turn the tunnel widened into a small chamber my flashlight beam showed more tunnel openings leading off in different directions The Whispers seemed to be coming from all of them now overlapping and echoing until they were just a constant suser of unintelligible voices I took another step forward my foot hit something that clattered across the rocky floor I swung my flashlight down it was a camera an old one covered in dust but otherwise intact I picked it up with Trembling Hands the brand name had worn off but it looked like it it was from the 1970s

The Whispers got louder I could almost understand them now almost make out what they were saying I took another step forward my flashlight flickered I froze the light flickered again then went out completely the darkness was absolute The Whispers surrounded me now and for the first time I could understand the words they were saying my name I ran I don't remember dropping the camera I don't remember finding my way back through the tunnel my next clear memory is breaking out into daylight gasping for air my clothes soaked with Creek Water and Cave mud I didn't

stop running until I reached the trail my hands were bleeding from grabbing rocks and trees but I barely felt it I made it back to my car in half the time it had taken me to hike in that night in my apartment back in Boston I finally looked up the news story about the missing hiker from 1978 his name was Daniel Morris he was carrying a camera when he disappeared I haven't been back to Lancaster Trail Mike and Sarah have invited me hiking several times but I always find an excuse not to go they wouldn't

understand sometimes at night when everything is quiet I think I can hear Whispers again they're probably just the pipes in my building or traffic from the street below probably but I keep thinking about that camera lying there in the darkness and I wonder if someone found it now now would the film inside still be intact would it show what happened to Daniel Morrison would it show what's really down there in those tunnels I don't want to know the answers but sometimes in my dreams The Whispers tell me anyway last week I got a letter no

return address just my name and address typed on a plain envelope inside was a single photograph badly damaged by water and time most of that was too faded to make out but in one corner I could clearly see a tunnel entrance in a rocky Bank partially hidden by ferns I burned the photograph then I changed my phone number and deleted my social media accounts I'm moving next month to Arizona somewhere dry somewhere far from forests and mountains and hidden streams but part of me knows it won't matter because the Whispers aren't coming from that cave

not really they're coming from somewhere else somewhere much closer and they know my name now they know my name and they're getting louder the first message appeared 3 days after I moved in I was brushing my teeth when I noticed it forming in the condensation on the mirror get out while you can the letters were backwards like someone had written them from inside the glass I wiped it away immediately but my hand was shaking so badly I dropped my toothbrush in the sink I'd taken the room because it was cheap and close to downtown Seattle

the Craigslist ad had mentioned two other roommates but I hadn't met them yet our schedules didn't align I heard them sometimes moving around in their rooms or in the kitchen but we were like ships passing in the night the apartment itself was nothing special beige walls War carpet furniture that had seen better days but it was a roof over my head while I got back on my feet after my divorce that first morning I convinced myself it was just my imagination playing tricks on me sleep deprivation from the move stress from the separation whatever I

went to work at the accounting firm like nothing had happened but when I came home and took my evening shower there it was again the others didn't listen the Steam from the hot water made the letters appear slowly one by one like invisible fingers dragging through the condensation I cleaned the mirror thoroughly with Windex making sure to get every corner the next morning a new message they never leave my hands were sweating as I wiped it away I started taking photos with my phone to prove to myself I wasn't losing it after a week I

began documenting everything in a notebook the messages appeared twice daily always when I showered or when the mirror fogged up from sink steam they never repeated exactly but they all carried the same warning tone watch your back don't sleep too deeply check the locks they're always watching I installed a small security camera in the bathroom pointing it at the mirror the footage showed nothing the messages just appeared in the condensation as if by themselves No Hands no movement nothing unusual except the words forming letter by letter in reverse the sound of my roommates became more

noticeable Footsteps in the hall at odd hours cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen at 3:00 a.m. sometimes I'd wake up to find things in my room slightly moved my laptop shifted an inch to the left my shoes arranged differently by the door my coffee mug on the opposite side of the desk I tried leaving notes for my roommates under their doors hey would love to meet up and chat sometime no response I knocked on their doors during reasonable hours but no one ever answered the rent was automatically deducted from my account each month so

I had no reason to contact the landlord the messages grew more urgent check Behind the Walls listen for the scratching count the Shadows they move at night I started sleeping with my bedroom door locked and a chair wedged under the handle I bought a high-powered flashlight and kept it by my bed during the day I'd press press my ear against the walls trying to hear what was happening in the other rooms sometimes I caught fragments of conversations but they were too muffled to make out the words one night I woke up to use the bathroom

and found all the kitchen cabinets standing open every single one the refrigerator door was a jar too casting a pale light across the lenium I knew I hadn't left them that way I barely cooked just heated up microwave meals and made coffee I started taking pictures of everything before I left for work and comparing them when I got home small things were always different the angle of the couch cushions the position of magazines on the coffee table the arrangement of dishes in the drain rack nothing major nothing I could definitively prove wasn't just my own

forgetfulness but enough to keep me constantly on edge the messages continued they're getting closer don't turn your back watch the corners time is running out I tried to record The Sounds at night my phone picked up footsteps Whispers The Sound of furniture being dragged across carpet but when I checked the apartment in the morning nothing was out of place at least not obviously I started spending more time at work coming home as late as possible and leaving early in the morning my co-workers noticed the changes in me the dark circles under my eyes my jumpiness

how I'd zone out during meetings my boss suggested I take some time off to rest I couldn't tell him that my apartment was the last place I wanted to be 2 months in I was sitting on my bed one night trying to read a book but really just listening to the sounds of the apartment when I heard something new a scratching noise coming from inside the wall behind my headboard not mice the sound was too deliberate too rhythmic like someone dragging their fingernails across the drywall in a pattern I pressed my my ear against the

wall the scratching stopped immediately then I heard what sounded like breathing slow raspy inhales and exhales just on the other side of the wall I jerked away so fast I knocked my lamp off the nightstand the next morning's message was different they know you heard I started researching the apartment building's history it was built in the 1970s nothing remarkable no reported deaths no mysterious disappearances nothing that would explain what was happening I tried to find previous tenants online but came up empty the messages grew more specific check the air vents what's behind the mirror count

your steps at night they use the pipes I unscrewed the air vent cover in my room and shown the flashlight inside the beam revealed nothing but dust and cobwebs but I swore I could hear movement further down the shaft a sliding shuffling sound that stopped as soon as I noticed it the mirror became an obsession I examined it from every angle looking for hidden mechanisms or signs of tampering it was a normal bathroom mirror mounted flush against the wall but when I tapped it The Sound was Hollow like there was space behind it one evening

I decided to remove the mirror entirely I waited until I heard no movement in the apartment then grabbed my tools the mirror was heavier than I expected and it took some effort to work it free from the wall behind it was a rectangular opening about 2 feet wide and 3T High the space beyond was dark but my flashlight beam revealed a narrow passage that seemed to extend further than it should have given the building's layout the walls of the passage were covered in writing thousands of backwards letters scratched into the surface overlapping and intertwining some

looked fresh others were old enough to have gathered dust I heard movement in the passage a quick scuttling sound like something retreating deeper in into the darkness the beam of my flashlight caught nothing but Shadow my hands shaking I quickly remounted the mirror that night I slept in my car the next morning I had to go back for my work clothes the message on the mirror was waiting now you know where we live I started plotting my Escape I couldn't break the lease without losing my security deposit and I couldn't afford to pay rent on

two places but the messages were getting more frequent appearing even when the mirror wasn't fogged we see you planning you can't escape us we're in the walls we're in the pipes we're in the vents we're everywhere The Sounds at night grew louder scratching in the walls Whispers in the vents Footsteps in the hallway that stopped right outside my door I barricaded myself in my room only leaving for work and essential trips to the bathroom 3 months after moving in I woke at 3:00 a.m. to complete silence the usual ambient sounds of the apartment the hum

of the refrigerator the were of the heating system the creaks and groans of the building were gone the silence was absolute pressing against my eard drums like a physical Force I lay perfectly still barely breathing straining to hear something anything then I heard it a soft scratching sound coming from the other side of my bedroom door not at the bottom where a mouse might Scrabble but at eye level like someone or something was riding on the wood I turned on my flashlight and aimed it at the door in the beam I could see letters appearing

on the surface carved into the wood from the outside appearing Stroke by stroke in real time we want to meet you I didn't sleep the rest of the night when morning came I went straight to work and started searching for a new apartment during my lunch break I found a a studio across town that I could move into immediately if I paid two months rent up front it would drain my savings but I didn't care I went back to the apartment that evening with empty boxes planning to pack as quickly as possible the message on

the mirror was longer than usual you can leave but we'll follow we always follow ask the others as I was throwing clothes into boxes I heard a door open somewhere in the apartment then another Footsteps in the hallway multiple sets approaching from both directions I grabbed my prepacked emergency bag and yanked open my bedroom window the fire escape was right there just as I'd planned I climbed out just as my bedroom door began to open I didn't look back I ran down the fire escape metal clanging under my feet and didn't stop running until I

reached my car as I pulled away from the curb I glanced in my rearview mirror my bedroom window was dark but I swore I could see faces pressed against the glass faces that weren't quite right faces that seemed to be made of Shadow and fog I stayed in a hotel that night and hired movers the next day to get my remaining belongings they reported nothing unusual about the apartment my roommate's doors were closed as always I moved into the studio apartment and tried to put the experience behind me for a week everything was normal then

one morning I was brushing my teeth when I noticed condensation forming on my new bathroom mirror letters began to appear backward as always welcome home I immediately called my landlord and asked about the previous tenants he sounded confused the apartment had been empty for 6 months before I moved in no one would rent it because of the strange noises in the walls that night I heard the first scratch from inside the heating vent I broke my lease the next day and moved in with a friend in Portland I sleep on his couch and contribute to

rent but I don't care at least here the mirrors stay clear and the wall don't whisper sometimes though when I'm alone in the bathroom I find myself staring at the mirror waiting for words to appear and sometimes just sometimes I think I see letters starting to form in the steam but I always wipe them away before I can read what they say I don't want to know if they followed me here I don't want to know what they want and most of all I don't want to know what happened to my old roommates the ones

whose doors were always closed the ones I never saw the ones who might not have been there at all some questions are better left unanswered some Mysteries should stay buried in the walls behind the mirrors in the spaces we pretend don't exist but every now and then when I hear an unexpected sound in the night or catch a movement in my peripheral vision I remember those backwards letters forming in the steam they always follow and I wonder how far I'll have to run before they stop the first thing I noticed when I took over my

father's Furniture Company wasn't the outdated accounting software or the stack of unpaid invoices on his desk or even the ancient coffee maker that probably hadn't been cleaned since the Reagan Administration it was the heavy padlock on that storage unit door in the basement its brass surface dulled by Decades of dust I found the key buried in the bottom drawer of dad's desk underneath warranties for equipment we didn't even own anymore the metal was cold against my palm as I stood in front of that door listening to water drip somewhere in the darkness of the basement

the lock clicked open with a sound that echoed off the concrete walls the storage unit smelled like old wood and mothballs I pulled the chain for the single bulb hanging from the ceiling and yellow light spilled across what looked like my grandmother's entire estate sale collection antique furniture was crammed into every corner Victorian chairs with cracked leather upholstery end tables with water rings on their surfaces a massive wardrobe that barely fit through the door but it was the dolls that caught my eye dozens of them arranged on shelves that lined the walls porcelain faces with

painted on smiles and glass eyes that reflected the dim light I recognized some of them from my grandmother's house she'd been a collector always dragging home new finds from estate sales and an antique shops dad had inherited everything when she passed away 5 years ago I guess he couldn't bring himself to sell any of it I was checking the condition of a queen an chair when I heard it a soft scraping sound like something being dragged across wood I turned around nothing seemed different but I could have sworn one of the dolls on the middle

shelf had been facing the other direction I blamed it on the bad lighting in my exhausted brain I'd been working 16-hour days trying to get the company's finan was in order since dad's stroke 3 weeks ago the doctor said he'd recover but the business couldn't wait someone had to take charge I locked up the storage unit and went back to my office that night I dreamed about glass eyes watching me in the dark the next morning I found the chair I'd been examining pushed into the center of the storage room I distinctly remembered leaving it

against the wall my first thought was that one of the employees must have come down here but the padlock had been secure when I arrived I approached the chair slowly the leather was cracked and peeling showing the yellowed padding underneath as I reached out to touch it I heard that scraping sound again louder this time coming from behind me I spun around one of the Dolls had fallen face down on the Shelf I picked it up noting its weight and the intricate lace detail on its dress when I set it upright I noticed something odd

there was dust on the Shelf everywhere except for a long streak leading to where I'd found the doll my phone rang making me jump it was our biggest client threatening to pull their account I spent the rest of the day in damage control mode but I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right in that basement that night I stayed late at the office going through old contracts around midnight I heard Footsteps in the hallway hello I called out no response this security system was armed nobody else should have been in the building I grabbed

my phone's flashlight and walked down the hall empty but as I passed the basement door I heard that scraping sound again clearer than ever it was followed by a soft thump my hand shook as I unlocked the basement door the storage unit was still secured but now I could hear movement inside like something being slowly dragged across the floor I stood there for what felt like hours key in hand and trying to convince myself there had to be a rational explanation maybe rats had gotten in somehow maybe the old building was just settling the scraping

stopped then I heard something that made my blood run cold the sound of porcelain fingers tapping against wood I unlocked the padlock the chain clinked as I pulled it free heart pounding I opened the door the chair had moved again now positioned directly in front of the entrance sitting in it was one of the the larger dolls a Victorian style figure in a blue dress that I definitely remembered seeing on the top shelf earlier its head was tilted slightly to one side glass eyes reflecting the beam of my flashlight I backed away slowly but before

I could reach the door I heard movement behind me I turned to see another doll walking actually walking across a shelf on unsteady porcelain legs its tiny boots made clicking sounds against the wood more movement caught my eye all around the room dolls were beginning to stir small heads turned jointed arms began to reach out I ran I slammed the door shut and fumbled with the padlock my hands shaking so badly I could barely work the key from inside I heard the scraping sound getting louder accompanied by the click of dozens of tiny feet on

the floor the lock finally caught I stumbled backward breathing hard something hit the other side of the door with a solid thunk then another impact and another I made it up the stairs somehow and didn't stop running until I reached my car I spent the rest of the night in a hotel telling myself I was having some kind of breakdown from stress and exhaustion things like this didn't happen in real life they couldn't but when I arrived at work the next morning I found the storage unit door standing wide open the padlock lay on the

floor still locked its hasp somehow Twisted completely off its mounting inside every single piece of furniture had been arranged in a perfect circle around that chair and every single doll was sitting exactly where it had been 2 days ago posed primly on their shelves with painted on smiles and glass eyes that seemed to follow my movement I spent that morning researching the building's history looking for anything that might explain what was happening the company had been in the family for three generations operating out of the same converted Warehouse since my grandfather's time before before that

the records showed it had been a Furniture Factory in the early 1900s nothing unusual stood out then I found an old newspaper article about a fire in 1912 the factory had burned killing several workers according to the article they'd been trapped in the basement storage area the paper mentioned that one of the victims had been a young woman who made dolls in her Spare Time selling them to supplement her income I printed the article and took it down to the basement my hands were steady this time as I unlocked the storage unit the furniture was

still arranged in that Perfect Circle I walked to the center and sat down in the chair I know you're here I said out loud feeling slightly ridiculous I know what happened to you I'm sorry nothing moved the only sound was my own breathing and that Eternal drip of water somewhere in the darkness then I heard it that familiar scraping sound one of the dolls on the middle shelf turned its head to look at me then another and another soon every glass eye in the room was fixed on my face the largest doll the one in

the blue dress stood up its porcelain feet clicked against the wood as it walked to the edge of the Shelf it stopped there looking down at me this was your place I said you worked here you made dolls here the doll's head tilted slightly behind it I could see others starting to move climbing down from their shelves with jerky movements they gathered around the blue dressed doll like children around a teacher I don't want to take this space from you I continued but I need to run this business my father's sick the company will fail

if someone doesn't take charge the blue dressed doll took another step forward then another it walked right off the edge of the Shelf I started to Lunge forward but before it could fall it stopped floating in midair the other dolls followed drifting down from their shelves like leaves in autumn they formed a circle around my chair looking up at me with their glass eyes the blue dressed doll floated up until it was at eye level with me this close I could see the fine cracks in its porcelain skin the way its painted lips were slightly

faded at the corners it reached out one tiny hand and pointed at the newspaper article I was still clutching then it pointed at the furniture around us and finally at me understanding dawned you want to help the doll nodded a bar L perceptible movement you know this building you worked here you you want to see it succeed another nod around us the other dolls had begun to move straightening the furniture dusting off surfaces with their tiny hands one of them picked up a fallen Table leg I hadn't even noticed and began trying to reattach it

I let out a laugh that was half relief half hysteria okay okay we can work something out you can stay here this can still be your space just maybe we can figure out a way to do this that doesn't involve giving me a heart attack the blue dressed doll's painted lips seemed to curve up slightly at the corners it extended its hand again this time Palm up like it was offering to shake on our deal I reached out with one finger and it wrapped its tiny porcelain hand around it its touch was cold but not

unpleasant that was 6 months ago the company's doing better now I've modernized most of our systems brought in new clients and even hired some additional staff but I've kept the basement storage unit exactly as it was though I did install Better lighting and brought in some tools and materials for repairs every morning when I arrive I unlock the basement door and say good morning to my unusual colleagues they never move when anyone else is around but sometimes I'll come down to find a piece of furniture perfectly restored overnight or discover that the they've reorganized the

storage space in a way that makes more sense the blue dressed doll I call her Sarah now after the name I found in that old newspaper article seems to have appointed herself as my assistant manager she has excellent taste in furniture and an eye for detail that comes from Decades of watching this business operate dad's recovering slowly I haven't told him about our new helpers yet I'm not sure how to explain that his mother's doll collection has become an integral part of our restoration Department but the other day when he visited the workshop he commented

on how good everything looked just like the old days he said smiling like there's still real pride in the craftsmanship I caught a glimpse of movement from the basement door just a flash of a blue dress disappearing into the Shadows I could have sworn I heard the faintest sound of porcelain hands clapping sometimes late at night when I'm working late I'll hear music drifting up from the basement the tinkling notes of an old music box playing Melody I don't recognize I'll go down to find the dolls having what looks like a party dancing in circles

around that old chair they always invite me to join them though I mostly just watch it's still a bit unsettling if I'm honest but there's something oddly comforting about it too I've learned to accept that some things in life don't need rational explanations sometimes you just need to trust that the past has its own way of taking care of the present and sometimes the best business partners are the ones who been there all along silently watching and waiting for someone to finally notice them the company's ledgers show a mysterious new expense category now restoration supplies

special projects every month I make sure to order new ribbons lace and Tiny spare parts I leave them on the shelves at night and find them transformed into perfect Repairs by morning it's an unconventional Arrangement but it works for us and if clients sometimes comment that our restored pieces seem to have a certain life to them a certain warmth that modern furniture lacks well that's just part of the family business's Special Touch though I do make sure to warn new employees about the basement don't mind any noises you might hear down there I tell them

it's just the old building settling and maybe maybe a few other things that have settled here too they usually laugh at off but they also don't question why the basement door always stays locked or why I'm the only one who goes down there after hours some things in a family business after all are best kept in the family even if that family now includes a collection of antique dolls with glass eyes and secrets of their [Music] own the first bang made me jump in my chair it was 11:42 p.m. and I was alone in the

converted Factory building trying to finish the quarterly reports the sound came from the old machine shop section A sharp metallic clang that shouldn't have been there at all my fingers froze over the keyboard as I listened for more the renovation company had done a decent job turning the abandoned manufacturing plant into modern office space they'd kept the industrial charm exposed brick walls steel beams and massive Windows while adding all the necessary modern amenities but they'd left the old machine shop area most ly untouched it sat empty behind the glass partition wall full of Shadows and

Silent Machinery waiting for phase two of the renovation that never came due to budget cuts another clang echoed through the building followed by a scraping sound my heart rate picked up I minimized the spreadsheet on my screen and checked the security system status on my second monitor all doors showed locked no motion sensors had been triggered the building was Secure I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight the overhead lights in my section cast a warm glow over the rows of empty desks but beyond the glass partition the Machine Shop was dark except for

the dim emergency lights required by code as I stood up my chair squeaked against the floor the sound seemed too loud in the quiet building the scraping noise came again closer this time my Palms started to sweat I wiped my right hand on my pants and gripped the phone tighter the rational part of my brain said it was probably just the old building settling or maybe mice in the walls but Another Part Of Me remembered all the stories the previous tenants had told about strange sounds and movements in the shadows after hours I walked slowly

toward the glass partition my dress shoes clicking against the polished concrete floor the Machine Shop lay before me a forest of Silent Industrial Equipment covered in dust cloths drill presses lathes and mechanical arms stood like sleeping Giants in the Gloom the emergency lights cast a faint red glow that didn't reach the dark Corners my phone flashlight beam cut through the darkness as I scanned the room nothing moved but as I swept the light back and forth I caught glimpses of Shifting Shadows between the machines they seemed to Flicker and dance just at the edge of

the light always disappearing when I tried to focus on them directly the smart thing would have been to leave right then pack up my laptop and finish the reports from home but curiosity and stubbornness got the better of me I had to know what was causing those sounds I pulled out my key card and swiped it through the reader by the glass door the lock clicked open the air in the Machine Shop felt colder than the office area my breath came out in small visible Puffs the smell of old metal and machine oil filled my

nostrils my footsteps echoed off the high ceiling as I moved between the covered shapes another metallic sound rang out a distinct tapping like someone gently striking a pipe with a wrench it came from the far corner of the room I turned toward it heart pounding in my chest the beam of my flashlight illuminated a massive old conveyor system partially hidden behind a sheet of dirty plastic as I got closer I noticed marks in the dust on the floor fresh scuff marks that hadn't been there earlier in the day they LED behind the conveyor my throat

felt dry I swallowed hard and kept walking the tapping came again followed by a sound like grinding gears it was definitely coming from behind the conveyor I reached out and grabbed the edge of the plastic sheet my hand was shaking I took a deep breath and yanked the sheet aside nothing just more machinery and tools covered in years of dust but as I stood there I felt a cold draft brush against the back of my neck the hairs on my arms stood up slowly I turned around a shadow moved between two covered lathes about 20

ft away this wasn't the trick of light and darkness I'd seen earlier this was a distinct shape personized gliding smoothly across the floor my flashlight beam caught it for just a second before it disappeared behind a drill press my heart hammered against my ribs sweat ran down my back despite the cold I opened my mouth to call out but no sound came the rational explanations were gone now this was something else I backed away slowly trying to keep my eyes on the spot where the shadow had vanished another metallic tap echoed through the room this

time from a different direction then another and another The Sounds began to multiply and overlap clangs scrapes and grinding noises coming from all around me the Shadows started moving faster now I caught glimpses of them darting between machines always just at the edge of my vision my flashlight beam couldn't keep up the temperature seemed to drop even further my breath came in quick gasps that fogged in front of my face I bumped into something hard and cold one of the lathes the impact sent a tool clattering to the floor the sound was like a gunshot

in the darkness the metallic noises stopped abruptly the Shadows froze for a moment everything was absolutely still then I heard footsteps heavy boots on concrete moving slowly and deliberately they were coming from the direction of the glass partition between me and the exit my flashlight beam darted to the sound but caught only empty space the footsteps continued getting closer my legs felt weak I pressed my back against the lathe trying to make myself as small as possible the beam of my flashlight started to flicker I shook it but the light kept fading in and out

the footsteps stopped about 10 ft away in the dying beam of my flashlight I saw a dark figure standing motionless between two covered machines it was roughly human-shaped but somehow wrong Too Tall too thin with proportions that didn't quite make sense as my light flickered one last time I thought I saw it start to turn towards me the flashlight went out completely the emergency light seemed dimmer than before I couldn't see the figure anymore but I could feel it there in the darkness the air grew so cold it hurt to breathe a sound came from

where the figure had been standing a low grinding noise like rusted gears trying to turn it grew louder mixed with the Screech of metal on metal the shadow started moving again whirling faster and faster around me tools began to Rattle on the workbenches the whole room seemed to vibrate with mechanical energy my paralysis broke I pushed off from the lathe and ran I didn't care about being quiet anymore I sprinted through the Maze of Machinery bouncing off covered shapes and knocking tools to the floor the glass partition glowed ahead of me like a beacon The

Sounds chased me clanging scraping and those heavy footsteps pounding on the concrete the shadow swept past me on both sides moving impossibly fast the cold air burned in in my lungs something brushed against my shoulder and I jerked away stumbling but keeping my feet I slammed into the glass door with my shoulder fumbling for my key card my hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold it behind me the footsteps got closer the card reader seemed to take forever to recognize the swipe finally the lock clicked I yanked the door open and Dove through

pulling it shut behind me the sound stopped instantly the Shadows disappeared through the glass I could see the Machine Shop lit only by the dim Red emergency lights nothing moved the dust cloths covering the Machinery hung still and undisturbed I backed away from the partition gasping for breath my shirt was soaked with sweat as my breathing slowed I noticed my phone was still clutched in my right hand dark and dead I pressed the power button but nothing happened the battery had been fully charged when I'd used it as a flashlight I walked quickly back to

my desk grabbed my laptop and bag and headed for the exit I didn't look back at the Machine Shop the main office lights flickered once as I passed beneath them but stayed on I punched in the security code with trembling fingers and practically ran to my car as I drove home I tried to make sense of what had happened the rational explanations came creeping back old buildings make strange noises Shadows play tricks on your eyes when you're alone and scared an overactive imagination can make you see things that aren't there but I knew what I'd

seen and felt in that room the cold the Shadows the figure I called in sick the next day when I finally went back to work I made sure to leave well Before Sunset the Machine Shop stood silent behind its glass wall looking perfectly normal in the daylight but sometimes when I'm working late and the office is quiet I hear faint metallic sounds echoing from that direction I don't investigate anymore I pack up my things and leave they're renovating the machine shop next month finally doing the phase 2 conversion into more office space the construction Crews

will tear out all the old equipment and strip the room down to Bare walls part of me wonders if they'll find anything unusual in there a bigger part of me hopes they don't I still work late sometimes but never alone and never in that building I took a transfer to our downtown office as soon as one opened up the commute is longer but I don't mind sometimes a longer Drive is worth it to avoid the things that move in the shadows of old machines keeping their own time following their own mechanical rhythms in the darkness

the quarterly reports they got done eventually but not that night some deadlines aren't worth the risk of meeting some rooms are better left unexplored and some sounds in the night should would serve as a warning rather than an invitation to investigate I learned that lesson in the Machine Shop surrounded by shadows and cold air and the echo of footsteps that shouldn't have been there I don't know what I encountered that night I don't want to know but sometimes I dream about it about the figure standing in the darkness about the wrongness of its proportions about

the grinding sound it made as it started to turn toward me in the dreams my flashlight doesn't Flicker and die in the dreams I see its face those are the nights I wake up gasping my sheets soaked with sweat grateful for the warm yellow light of my bedside lamp those are the nights I lie awake until dawn listening to the normal sounds of my apartment building telling myself that not all mechanical noises in the dark mean something is wrong most of the time I almost believe it but I'll never work in an old factory building

again some spaces keep their history in more ways than one some machines remember their purpose even after they've stopped running and sometimes in the places where people once shaped metal into useful things other things take shape in the darkness following patterns we were never meant to understand the company moved out of that building 6 months ago the old factory is empty now waiting for new tenants sometimes I drive past it late at night the windows are dark but I always think I see movement behind them Shadows shifting in the Machine Shop keeping their own time

waiting for someone else to investigate a strange sound in the night I never stop I never slow down I keep driving until the old factory disappears in my rearview mirror but I know it's still there its empty rooms filled with silence and shadows and the echo of footsteps that shouldn't exist and sometimes when the night is very quiet and very dark I think I hear the faint sound of metal striking metal carried on the wind like a distant Bell calling out to anyone who might be listening I don't listen anymore some calls are better left

unanswered I should have left it alone that's what any rational person would say but after 23 years working at the milbrook public library you notice when something's off and that pale man with his blank book wasn't just off he was wrong in a way that made my skin crawl I'm writing this down now because I need someone else to know what happened maybe then I'll stop seeing those empty pages every time I close my eyes it started 3 months ago during one of our quiet Wednesday nights the library stays open until 9 p.m. on weekdays

though hardly anyone comes in after 700 I was doing my usual evening rounds reshelving books in the reference section when I first noticed him he sat in the far corner of the reading room hunched over over a large book nothing unusual about that we get plenty of regular readers especially in winter when people want somewhere warm to spend their evenings but something made me pause between the shelves maybe it was how still he sat or how his pale skin seemed to Glow under the fluorescent lights I continued my work but kept glancing his way he

never moved not once just sat there slowly turning Pages the sound carried across the empty room that soft Whisper of paper against paper the clock hit 8:45 and I started my closing routine straightening chairs checking the bathrooms making sure no one had fallen asleep in the study carols when I reached the reading room he was gone no sign anyone had been there at all I walked over to his table curious what he'd been reading nothing no book Left Behind no chair pulled out just the clean polished surface of the oak table table the next night

same thing there he was at 7:30 sitting in that same Corner chair this time I paid more attention he wore a gray suit clean but outdated the kind with wide lapels you might see in an old photograph his skin was so pale it looked almost translucent under the harsh lighting his fingers moved mechanically as he turned each page I decided to approach him it's part of my job after all helping patrons find what they need but as soon as I took a step in his Direction he stood up the movement was too smooth too quick

before I could say anything he walked between two tall shelves and vanished I ran to follow him those shelves led to a dead end just the wall with our old local history collection but he was gone I checked every aisle every corner nothing that's when I noticed the temperature the whole section felt ice cold like opening a freezer door my breath came out invisible Puffs I hurried back to the front desk trying to convince myself I was just tired seeing things in the bad lighting but he came back night after night always at 7:30 always

in that corner always reading that same book if you could call it reading because on my fourth night of watching him I finally saw what was on those pages nothing absolutely nothing blank white paper page after page but he stared at each one like it contained the secrets of the universe his pale fingers trembling as they turned each sheet I started documenting everything the temperature always dropped when he appeared the lights would flicker just slightly and the sound that Whisper of turning pages that seemed to Echo in my skull even after he vanished I tried

setting up my phone to record him one night the video showed nothing but an empty chair the security cameras static and interference whenever he appeared I researched the library's history looking for any deaths or accidents that might explain whatever this was the building dated back to 1892 but I found nothing unusual no tragic stories no mysterious disappearances just Decades of ordinary small town Life After 2 weeks of this I couldn't take it anymore I had to know what he wanted what he was looking for in those blank pages so I made a plan that Wednesday

I pretended to work in the far Stacks keeping my distance until he settled into his routine then I approached from behind moving as quietly as possible 3 ft away 2T close enough to see the yellowed edges of that mysterious book excuse me sir can I help you find something he stopped turning Pages his hands went completely still the temperature plummeted so fast my teeth started chattering slowly so slowly he began to turn his head toward me I saw his profile first the sharp angle of his jaw the sunken cheek his eye when it came into

view was milky white no pupil no Iris just a pale orb that somehow still managed to focus directly on me my legs wouldn't move my voice died in my throat he stood up that same unnaturally smooth smooth motion and the book fell open on the table the pages were blank but wrong the longer I stared the more they seemed to shift and ripple like water disturbed by an invisible Stone he took a step toward me I stumbled backward knocking into a chair the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed and flickered in that brief moment of darkness he

vanished just disappeared between one blink and the next I ran to the lights switch and flooded the whole library with brightness my hands shook as I searched every aisle every corner nothing no sign of him or the book even the chair he always sat in was perfectly pushed in I called in sick the next day spent the whole time researching ghost stories local Legends anything that might explain what I'd seen I found nothing when I returned to work on Friday I half expected him to be there waiting but the read room stayed empty all night

a week passed then two no sign of him I started to relax to convinced myself I'd imagined the whole thing maybe stress maybe too many late nights alone in the building I almost had myself believing it then yesterday I found something in the local History Section a thin folder I'd never seen before tucked between two larger volumes inside was a single photograph yellowed with age a group of people standing in front of the library dated 1937 and there he was standing at the edge of the frame same pale skin same outdated suit same blank expression

the caption listed everyone in the photo his name was William Cooper head Librarian from 1935 to 1938 he disappeared one night after closing leaving nothing behind but an empty desk and a book with no writing in side I should have left the folder where I found it should have walked away and never looked back but I took it home needed proof that I wasn't going crazy that someone else had seen him too the photo sits on my desk now as I write this sometimes out of the corner of my eye I think I see his

figure shift slightly in the frame and every night since I brought it home I've dreamed of blank pages turning endlessly in the dark I'm going back tonight the library closed an hour ago but I still have my keys I need to return the folder before before something happens I don't know what he's looking for in those empty pages but I know now he's been searching for almost 90 years maybe that's all he is just a man who lost something important something written in a book that no longer exists or maybe there's more to it maybe

those blank pages aren't really blank at all if you know how to read them I keep thinking about his eyes not just their emptiness but the desperate way they scanned each page like someone searching for a single word in an infinite void of white space like someone who knows exactly what they're looking for but can never quite find it the photo seems different now darker his figure less distinct I need to get it back where it belongs before the sun sets before 7:30 comes around again but part of me wants to wait to go back

during his regular hours and try one more time to talk to him to help him find whatever he's looking for in those blank pages because that's what Librarians do right we help people find what they need even if what they need doesn't technically exist anymore I know it's stupid dangerous even but I can't stop thinking about those empty pages about how long he's been searching about what could be so important that it would keep someone looking for almost a century the Sun is setting now I have a choice to make return the photo and walk

away try to forget everything I've seen or go back tonight walk into that cold corner of the reading room and finally ask William Cooper what he's been trying to find all these years I know what I should do but I also know what I'm going to do because some questions once asked don't go away until you find the answer even if that answer is written in a book with no words read by a man with no eyes in a corner of the light Library where the lights never seem to reach I'm going back if you're

reading this and I haven't updated it by tomorrow well check the reading room corner table around 7:30 look for a man with pale skin and empty eyes turning blank pages in an endless search for something that may not exist anymore just don't get too close don't ask what he's reading and whatever you do don't look too long at those empty pages because sometimes in the right light at the right angle they don't look quite so empty anymore sometimes just for a second you might catch a glimpse of what he's been searching for all these years

and once you see it you can't unsee it trust me on this some books are better left unread some questions are better left unasked and some corners of the library should stay dark and quiet Disturbed only by the endless Whisper of blank pages turning in the night but I'm still going back God help me I have to know maybe I'll see you there in the reading room just if you hear Pages turning in the dark walk the other way some stories don't have endings some searches never end and some books are blank for a reason

I'll update this tomorrow if I can if not well there's always another empty chair at that corner table always another set of eyes to search those blank pages always another reader looking for words that vanished long ago the sun just set it's time wish me luck the smell hit me first fresh coffee rich and strong wafting through the office at 11:43 p.m. I stopped typing mid-sentence my fingers frozen over the keyboard something wasn't right I worked on the 14th floor of the Riverside Business Center and I was the only one here I'd been the only

one here for hours my desk lamp cast a yellow circle on the scattered papers and empty energy drink cans outside my office window the city lights sparkled against the black Sky the cleaning crew had left around 8:00 p.m. security did their rounds at 10 I'd wave to Jerry as he passed by clipboard in hand burning the night oil again Mark he'd asked I'd nodded gesturing at the stack of reports I needed to finish before the morning meeting but now coffee not the stale drgs from the breakroom pot that had been sitting there since afternoon this

was fresh the kind of Aroma that only comes from coffee just brewed minutes ago I pushed back from my desk my chair squeaking in the silence the sound seemed too loud my heart thumped harder than it should have it was probably probably nothing maybe someone from the cleaning crew had come back for something they forgot maybe another workaholic from another department had snuck in but I knew that wasn't true I had to badge in through security to get to this floor after hours I would have heard the elevator the smell was coming from the conference

room next door light spilled from under the closed door but I hadn't seen it turn on I'd been sitting here for hours and that room had been dark my mouth went dry I stood up slowly my legs stiff from sitting too long the carpet muffled my footsteps as I moved toward the conference room door I pressed my ear against it nothing no voices no movement just silence my hand shook slightly as I reached for the door handle the metal felt Cold against my palm I twisted it slowly wincing at the small click it made then

I pushed the door open just a crack at first the conference room lights were on full brightness harsh fluorescent white that made me squint as my eyes adjusted I saw it a coffee mug sat in the middle of the long table steam rising from the dark liquid inside and one of the black leather chairs was rotating slowly deliberately as if someone had just been sitting in it and had gotten up moments ago I shoved the door the rest of the way open my pulse pounding in my ears hello my voice cracked I cleared my throat

and tried again is someone here the chair continued its lazy spin the coffee mug sat there innocent and ordinary one of the generic white ones from the break room with the company logo on the side steam curled up from the surface I stepped into the room the air felt different cooler than the rest of the office my skin prickled with goosebumps I moved closer to the table my footsteps echoing in the empty room the chair gradually slowed its rotation until it stopped facing me the coffee smelled incredible fresh expensive beans perfectly brewed not the cheap

stuff from the breakroom I leaned over the mug the liquid was black as ink with tiny bubbles around the edges showing how recently it had been poured this isn't funny I said to the empty room my voice sounded thin and unconvincing whoever's doing this just come out silence answered me the vent ation system hummed overhead outside the windows a police siren wailed in the distance I pulled out my phone and called security it rang four times before Jerry picked up front desk this is Jerry Jerry it's Mark up on 14 has anyone else badged into

this floor in the last few hours let me check the logs I heard keyboard clicking nope just you and the cleaning crew earlier everything okay up there my throat tightened someone's been in the conference room there's fresh coffee and hold on Jerry interrupted the systems showing some weird readings from up there power fluctuations or something I'm going to come check it out thanks I'll the call cut off I pulled the phone away from my ear no signal the lights flickered once twice the coffee mug rattled against the table a low vibration hummed through the floor

making the windows buzz in their frames the temperature dropped another 10° I could see my breath misting in the air the chair started spinning again faster this time the ceiling light strobed casting weird shadows that seemed to move on their own my teeth chattered partly from cold and partly from Fear I backed toward the door the coffee mug slid across the table's smooth surface leaving a trail of liquid that steamed in the cold air it moved like someone was pushing it but there was no one there just empty space and that spinning chair my back

hit the door frame the lights went out completely plunging the room into darkness broken only by the city glow from outside in that dim light I saw something impossible the chair stopped spinning and there was a depression in the leather seat like someone was sitting there someone I couldn't see I ran I slammed the conf conference room door behind me and sprinted to my office my hands shook so badly I could barely grab my laptop and jacket I didn't bother shutting down the computer or organizing the papers I just shoved everything into my bag and

ran for the elevator the button light didn't come on when I pressed it I jabbed it again and again Panic rising in my chest nothing the elevator wasn't working I turned to the emergency stairs pushed through the heavy fire door and took the steps two at a time my my dress shoeses slapping against the concrete 14 floors down my legs burned my lungs achd but I didn't slow down I hit the lobby at full speed almost crashing into Jerry as he came out of the security office whoa there he caught my arm to steady me

what's going on the cameras on 14 are all showing static and the elevators we need to check the security footage I gasped still trying to catch my breath from the last hour the conference room Jerry nodded looking concerned we went into the security office a small room lined with monitors showing feeds from around the building he pulled up the footage from the 14th floor conference room at 11:40 p.m. the room was dark and empty at 11:41 the lights came on there was no one visible in the frame at 11:42 one of the chairs moved on

its own spinning slowly at 11:43 a coffee mug appeared on the on the table steam rising from it that's impossible Jerry muttered rewinding and playing it again must be a glitch in the system but we both knew it wasn't a glitch we watched the footage three more times same thing empty room lights spinning chair coffee mug materializing out of nowhere I'm calling this in Jerry said reaching for his phone we need to document this and get it investigated corporate's going to want the Security Office lights flickered the monitors went dark then lit up with static

that same low vibration from upstairs thrummed through the floor and then impossibly the smell of fresh coffee filled the small room Jerry and I looked at each other without a word we both moved toward the door behind us one of the office chairs squeaked as it began to spin we left the building I called a taxi and waited with Jerry until his relief showed up for the next shift neither of us mentioned what we'd seen what do you say about something like that I didn't go back to the office for 3 days when I finally

returned everything was normal the conference room was exactly as it always had been no coffee mug no spinning chair the security footage from that night was corrupted nothing but static but sometimes working late I catch a whiff of fresh coffee when I know the breakroom pot is empty and sometimes out of the corner of my eye I see one of the conference room chairs moving slightly as if someone has just gotten up I don't work late anymore and I switch to tea that was 2 years ago I still work in the same building same office

nothing like that has happened since but I've noticed things small things the way certain chairs seem to stay slightly warm even when no one's been sitting in them the coffee maker in the break room turning on by itself sometimes footsteps and empty hallways the cleaning crew refuses to work on the 14th floor after dark now three different people have quit After experiencing what they called strange things security does abbreviated rounds up here just a quick walkr instead of the thorough check they do on other floors I've done research lots of it the building's history is

mostly boring standard corporate stuff but there are gaps missing records unexplained resignations and and stories whispered by longtime employees about people working impossible hours about dedication to the job that went beyond normal human limits I've started talking to other late workers people who like me sometimes stay well past normal hours they all have stories a computer that types by itself phones that ring with no one on the other end the elevator stopping on the 14th floor when no one pressed the button last week I finally got access to some old old employee records buried in

a Dusty file room in the basement I found something interesting 30 years ago there was an employee named James Carter he worked in accounting on the 14th floor according to his file he routinely worked 8100 hour weeks his performance reviews were Stellar his dedication was legendary then one day he just stopped coming in no resignation letter no explanation his desk was found exactly as he'd left it computer still on papers spread out half full coffee mug on the desk the official story was that he'd had some kind of breakdown burned out from too many hours

too much stress but his security badge was never turned in and in the weeks after his disappearance people reported strange things on the 14th floor the smell of coffee late at night chairs that moved on their own the feeling of being watched I found his picture in the file he's sitting at a desk surrounding by papers and files there's a coffee mug by his hand a white one with the company logo he's smiling at the camera but his eyes look tired so tired sometimes on quiet evenings when I'm working later than I should I think

I hear typing from the empty cubicles and sometimes just sometimes I catch a glimpse of someone in the reflection of my computer screen someone sitting at a desk surrounded by papers drinking coffee from a white mug with the company logo I've never seen his face clearly but I know it's him James Carter still working late still dedicated to the job still here 30 years after he disappeared I'm writing this down because people should know not about ghosts or Supernatural things I'm still not sure I believe in those but about dedication about what happens when work

becomes everything when you give so much of yourself to a job that maybe just maybe part of you never leaves the coffee maker just turned on in the break room I can smell it from here Rich fresh perfect the kind of coffee that only gets made after midnight on the 14th floor I'm going home now the work can wait until morning some things are more important than deadlines and reports some prices are too high to pay but before I go I'll pour out a cup of that perfectly brewed coffee and leave it in the conference

room old habits die hard they say even after you do the first photo showed a gray shape behind my left shoulder I deleted it assuming it was just a smudge on my phone's lens the second photo had the same blur now Closer by the fifth photo the shape had defined edges shoulders a head arms hanging at its sides that's when my hands started shaking so bad I dropped the phone on my kitchen table let me back up this all started 3 days ago when I decided to visit the old North Cemetery on the outskirts of

Boston I'm Robert Blackwood and I've lived in Massachusetts my whole life but I'd never explored this particular historical graveyard my interest wasn't purely academic I'd been researching my family genealogy for months trying to trace the Blackwood line back before my great-grandfather immigrated here from Scotland the cemetery dated to the 1700s perfect timing for finding some answers the October weather was crisp but sunny when I parked my car outside the rod iron gates Dead Leaves crunched under my boots as I walked the paths between the weathered headstones many were so old the inscriptions had worn away

completely I pulled out my phone to take reference photos of any interesting Graves the light was good and I wanted clear shots of dates and names my breath fogged in the cold air as I worked my way through the rows scanning for familiar names an hour in I found the first Blackwood grave Sarah Blackwood died 1783 my heart rate picked up this was exactly what I'd been hoping to find I crouched down to brush away some dirt and Moss from the stone the surface was rough under my fingertips I snapped several photos from different angles

to capture the f paint inscription that's when the temperature seemed to drop about 10° the sun was still bright overhead but Goosebumps rose on my arms I rubbed them blaming the weather and moved deeper into the cemetery the next Blackwood grave appeared just two rows over Thomas Blackwood 1756 1801 then another William Blackwood died 1792 and another Mary Blackwood died 1788 soon I documented eight different Blackwood Graves all from the same time period my excitement grew with each Discovery this had to be more than coincidence the whole time I was photographing the graves I kept

getting hit with random cold spots the air would suddenly chill around me for a few seconds then warm up again the hair on the back of my neck stood up more than once but I was too focused on my research to pay much attention I did notice an odd smell that seemed to follow me as I moved between the graves like damp Earth and something metallic it would come and go always strongest when I was examining a Blackwood headstone I figured it was just the Autumn decay of leaves and grass after about 3 hours my

phone battery was getting low and the sun was starting to set I had dozens of photos to examine later as I walked back to my car a strong gust of wind hit me from behind almost making me stumble dry leaves swirled around my feet the metallic smell was overwhelming for a moment I drove home feeling satisfied with my discoveries already planning to dig deeper into these potential ancestors my apartment was dark when I got back I flipped on the lights and settled at my kitchen table with my laptop and phone ready to start analyzing the

photos the first few shots were fine just clear images of the gravestones I'd found but then I noticed something odd in the background of one photo a gray Misty shape hovering just behind where I'd been crouching I zoomed in but the shape just got more pixelated probably just a lens flare or dirty camera lens I deleted that photo and moved on but the shape appeared again in the next image and the next each time it was slightly more distinct slightly closer to where I was standing in the frame my hands started trembling as I flipped

through photo after photo the shape developed definition it looked vague L hum sized with what appeared to be a head and shoulders no clear facial features just darkness where a face should be but the form was unmistakable someone or something had been standing behind me as I photographed those Graves I slammed my laptop shut and paced my apartment trying to calm my racing heart my Palms were sweating I told myself there had to be a logical explanation maybe someone else had been in the cemetery and I just hadn't noticed them maybe it was a trick

of the light or a problem with my phone's camera but I knew I'd been alone out there I would have noticed another person following me around for 3 hours and the shape wasn't consistent with a living person it was too blurry too insubstantial in some photos it seemed to be partially transparent I forced myself to sit back down and look through the rest of the images the figure appeared in every single photo I'd taken of a Blackwood grave always behind me slightly closer than in the previous shot in the final photo I'd taken before leaving

it was standing directly behind my right shoulder one gray arm slightly raised as if reaching toward me my phone buzzed suddenly on the table and I nearly jumped out of my skin just a text from my sister asking about weekend plans my hands shook as I typed a reply I needed to think about this rationally I opened my laptop again and started researching the names from the gravestones County record showed that a large group of blackwoods had indeed lived in the area in the late 1700s they'd come over from Scotland in 1755 settling in Massachusetts

but the records were spotty I couldn't find death certificates or clear family connections the smell of damp Earth and metal filled my nostrils suddenly my apartment was warm but Goosebumps rose on my arms the lights flickered once twice I sat perfectly still barely breathing something moved in my peripheral vision just a quick Shadow passing by the kitchen doorway I whipped my head around but saw nothing my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat I spent the rest of the night with every light in the apartment blazing jumping at every little

sound sleep was impossible around Dawn I finally dozed off on the couch laptop still open on my chest I woke to gray Morning Light and a stiff neck nothing seemed out of place in my apartment I almost convinced myself I'd overreacted to some bad photos then I checked my phone somehow new photos had appeared in my camera roll overnight photos I definitely hadn't taken they showed my apartment my kitchen my bedroom my living room all dark and grainy as if shot in low light and in every single one that same gray figure stood in the

background watching I deleted them all with shaking fingers grabbed my jacket and keys and practically ran out to my car I needed coffee and time to think somewhere that wasn't my apartment the local cafe was crowded with morning commuters the normaly helped calm my nerves I found a corner table and pulled out my phone again determined to figure out what was happening the new photos were gone but the cemetery ones remained I studied them more carefully now the figure seemed to be wearing old-fashioned clothes what looked like a long coat or jacket its form was

masculine in shape and Tall maybe 6 ft or more something about the pose was familiar I scrolled back through the county records I'd found there a faded deera type from 1801 Thomas Blackwood the same one whose grave I'd photographed stood stiffly in a long coat one arm slightly raised the exact same pose as the figure in my final Cemetery photo my coffee went cold as I dug deeper into the rec Rec s the blackwoods had been a prominent family in the area but they'd fallen into hard times in the early 1800s a series of failed

businesses suspicious accidents unexplained deaths the family line had dwindled until only a few scattered branches remained my great-grandfather had been one of those branches he'd changed the spelling of our name slightly when he immigrated which is why I hadn't made the connection before but there was no doubt I was descended from those original Massachusetts blackwoods the cafe had emptied out while I was researching I looked up to find the Barista giving me concerned glances I'd been sitting there for hours barely touching my drink time to head home and face whatever was waiting for me my

apartment felt different when I walked in colder somehow darker despite the afternoon sun streaming through the windows that earthy metallic smell hung in the air I did a quick walk through checking all the rooms everything looked normal then I saw my laptop screen I knew I'd closed it before leaving but now it was open a document was pulled up Parish records from 1801 I definitely hadn't been looking at these earlier the document detailed Thomas blackwood's death and burial he died suddenly at age 45 found in his study one morning the cause was listed as natural

causes but but a note from the examining doctor mentioned unusual circumstances the body had been cold as expected but showed no signs of riger mortise and dark soil had been found under his fingernails and embedded in his clothes though he hadn't been outside in days I slammed the laptop shut again my hands were trembling so badly I could barely type as I searched for more information about Thomas Blackwood news clippings from 1801 painted an interesting picture he'd been researching his own family history in the weeks before his death trying to trace the Blackwood line back

to Scotland the same thing I'd been doing my phone buzzed another text from my sister she was worried because I hadn't answered her earlier message I tried to type a response but my fingers wouldn't cooperate the smell of Earth and metal was overwhelming now the temperature in my apartment plunged my breath fogged in front of my face something moved behind me I could feel it a present presence hovering just over my shoulder slowly forcing myself to stay calm I opened my phone's camera and switched to selfie mode the screen showed my face pale and frightened

and behind me perfectly clear now stood Thomas Blackwood his clothes were dark with grave dirt his face was gray and sunken but his eyes were sharp and aware one hand reached toward my shoulder I dropped the phone and ran grabbed my keys and bolted out the door down the stairs out to my car I drove straight to my sister's house in the suburbs hands white knuckled on the steering wheel the whole way she took one look at my face and pulled me inside I told her everything showed her the photos she believed me she's good

like that said I could stay with her as long as I needed but I knew it wouldn't help Thomas Blackwood wasn't tied to my apartment he was tied to me to our shared blood he'd followed me here I could smell the grave dirt feel the cold spots moving through my sister's warm house I'm writing this all down now so there's a record I don't think Thomas means to harm me I think he's trying to tell me something about our family something he discovered in his own research 200 years ago something important enough that he's broken

through death itself to pass it on tonight I'm going back to that Cemetery back to his grave he's been trying to lead me there all along I realize that now whatever Secrets the Blackwood family holds whatever Thomas discovered that was worth dying for the answers are waiting for me there I just hope I'm ready to learn them my sister's trying to talk me out of it says it's crazy to go back there especially at night she's probably right but the pull is too strong to resist now Thomas is waiting by the door patient but insistent

time to go face my family history whatever it might be I'll update this account when I can if I can if you're reading this and you've got family research of your own to do maybe think twice before digging too deep into the past some things are buried for a reason the smell of grave dirt is stronger now Thomas is getting impatient time to go the first time I heard the footsteps I blamed it on new apartment jitters everyone knows that buildings make weird noises at night but by the third night I couldn't ignore them anymore

they were too regular too deliberate and always in the exact same spot above my bedroom I had just moved into unit 3B of the Oakwood Apartments a red brick building from the 1960s on the edge of downtown the rent was surprisingly affordable for the location and the realtor had emphasized the Vintage charm of the worn hardwood floors and dated kitchen cabinets what sealed the deal was the bedroom spacious with large Windows Facing East perfect for my work from home setup the footsteps always started around 11:30 p.m. not the random Creeks of settling wood or the

muffled thuds of neighbors going about their business these were clear measured steps back and forth in a precise pattern five steps One Way pause five steps back over and over after a week of disturbed sleep I finally worked up the nerve to ask my my nextdoor neighbor Mrs Rodriguez about the noise oh honey she said adjusting her thick rimmed glasses forb has been empty for months the owner's been trying to renovate it but there's some issue with the permits I frowned empty are you sure positive I've lived here 15 years I know everything that happens

in this building she leaned in closer her voice dropping the Last Tenant moved out suddenly just packed up and left one day that night I lay in bed with my eyes fixed on the ceiling waiting at exactly 11:32 p.m. it started step step step step step pause step step step step step the sound was clearer now that I was paying attention heavy boots on hardwood floors I grabbed my phone and recorded the noise playing it back the footsteps were perfectly audible this wasn't my imagination the next morning I cornered the building superintend attendant Mike in

the lobby he was replacing a light bulb balanced precariously on a step ladder hey quick question about 4B I said trying to sound casual any chance someone's been working up there at night Mike shook his head climbing down no way haven't touched that unit in weeks why I played him the recording his face scrunched up in confusion that's weird he said want me to check it out we walked up to the fourth floor together the hallway was darker than mine with flickering fluorescent lights that needed replacing 4 B's door had a prominent no trespassing sign

and a heavy padlock Mike unlocked it and we stepped inside the apartment was completely gutted bare concrete floors exposed wiring hanging from the ceiling half demolished walls a thick layer of dust covered everything see Mike said gesturing around nobody's been in here look at the dust it's undisturbed he was right there were no Footprints no signs of recent activity mind if I look around Mike Shrugged go ahead just don't touch any wiring I walked through the space my footsteps echoing in The Emptiness when I reached the area above my bedroom I stopped the floor was

solid concrete here no wood to Creek I jumped up and down a few times the sound was nothing like what I heard at night that evening I installed a security camera in my bedroom pointing it at the ceiling I also bought a deciel meter app for my phone if something was up there I was going to document it the footsteps started right on schedule the deciel meter registered clear spikes with each step the camera showed nothing unusual just my white ceiling I spent hours online researching the building's history the Oakwood was built in 1964 converted

to condos in the 1990s no deaths reported on the premises no Major Crimes the property record showed a string of short-term owners for 4B over the past 5 years none staying longer than 8 months two weeks into my investigation I met Alice from 2B in the laundry room she was sorting her darks when I mentioned the footsteps oh God she said dropping a sock you hear them too my heart rate jumped what do you mean to the previous tenant in your unit Jim something he used to complain about noises from upstairs said it was driving

him crazy that's why he broke his lease and moved out I swallowed hard did he ever figure out what it was Alice shook her head he tried everything called the cops twice but they never found anything he even set up cameras and motion detectors nothing ever showed up on the recordings but I have recordings I said pulling out my phone listen I played the footsteps Alice's face went pale that's exactly what he described she whispered I started keeping a detailed log the footsteps always began between 11:30 and 11:35 p.m. they continued for exactly 47 minutes

the pattern never varied five steps forward pause for 3 seconds five steps back pause for 3 seconds repeat I mapped out the path of the steps on my ceiling they formed a perfect line about 8 ft long when I checked the demolished apartment above this path crossed directly over a spot where the concrete floor changed color slightly as if something had once stood there my sleep suffered even with earplugs and a white noise machine I couldn't ignore the rhythmic thuing overhead I started sleeping on my couch but I could still hear them slightly muffled one

night after a particularly stressful day at work I'd had enough when the footsteps started I grabbed a broom and banged on the ceiling hey I shouted stop it the footsteps paused for a full minute then they resumed louder than before I banged again harder this time this isn't funny I know someone's up there another pause then the steps continued unchanged my hands shaking I grabbed my phone and called the police two officers arrived 20 minutes later they looked skeptical as I played them my recordings and showed them my logs sir the older officer said we've

been to this building before about noise complaints there's nothing up there then come see for yourself I insisted they agreed to check the apartment Mike arrived with the keys looking annoyed at being woken up we all went upstairs together the apartment was exactly as before Dusty empty undisturbed the officers swept their flashlights across the bare floors and wall walls no signs of Entry the younger officer reported windows are sealed shut no footprints in the dust and yet as we stood there I could still hear the footsteps through the floor clear as day the officers exchanged

glances one of them wrote down a non-emergency number and suggested I call if the disturbance continued after they left I sat in my living room wide awake listening to the steady Rhythm overhead I needed answers the next day I started interviewing everyone in the building most residents brushed me off or said they never noticed anything unusual but Mr Chen from 5B mentioned something interesting before they gutted 4B he said that apartment had a weird layout there was this long narrow room right in the middle like a hallway but it didn't lead anywhere just a windowless

space with a door at each end I dug deeper into to the building records at the city archives the original floor plans showed that 4B had indeed been different from the other units the strange Corridor Mr Chen mentioned was marked as a storage area on the blueprints I also found something else in 1965 just a year after the building opened there was a police report about a resident of 4B who had reported similar noises the report was frustratingly vague mentioning only unexplained disturbance and possible trespassing weeks passed the footsteps continued every night unchanging I learned

to live with them sort of I bought better earplugs installed soundproofing panels on my ceiling and started taking sleeping pills but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something important the precise timing the exact repetition of the pattern it felt almost mechanical then one day while helping Mrs Rodriguez carry her groceries she mentioned that her l husband had been the building superintendent in the 1960s oh that was before all the renovations she said the building was very different then they had this old pneumatic message system like they used to have in Office Buildings

little tubes that would carry messages between floors where were the tubes I asked suddenly alert all over but the main system ran through the center of the building they sealed it all up when they converted to condos that night I couldn't sleep I kept thinking about the mysterious Corridor in 4B right above my bedroom about the discolored patch on the concrete floor about the rhythmic mechanical nature of the footsteps I contacted a friend who worked in historical building preservation she explained that pneumatic tube systems often had mechanical pumps that would cycle at regular intervals creating

a distinctive pattern of sounds as the air pressure built and released the next day I convinced Mike to let me exam examine the walls around my bedroom more closely after an hour of careful inspection I found it a small metal panel painted over so many times it was barely visible when I pressed my ear against it I could hear a faint whooshing sound an old pump sealed Behind the Walls during renovation still cycling every night the sound traveled up through the remnants of the tube system Amplified by the empty space above creating the illusion of

footsteps I hired an engineer to confirm my theory he found the ancient pump mechanism still running on its original timer moving back and forth on its track every night at 11:30 the building's electrical system had somehow kept it powered all these years Mike had the pump removed the following week the footsteps stopped I still live in 3B sometimes at night I catch myself listening for those familiar steps the silence feels strange now almost too quiet but I sleep better knowing that the mystery above my bedroom wasn't something Supernatural or Sinister just a forgotten piece of

the building's history marking time in its own steady Rhythm Mrs Rodriguez told me recently that other residents over the years had reported similar noises but no one had ever Tracked Down the cause they'd all either learned to live with it or moved out I kept all my recordings and logs sometimes I play them back just to remind myself that it was real five steps forward pause five steps back the ghost in the machine finally laid to rest the buzzing wouldn't stop not the usual kind from fluorescent tubes but a deep persistent hum that seemed to

come from inside the walls themselves I noticed it my first day at Hamilton and Associates Law Firm standing in my new office on the third floor of the Blackwood building the source a plain desk lamp in the corner its light cutting through the darkness even though I hadn't touched the switch I'm John Marshall and after 15 years of grinding away at corporate law firms in Chicago I'd finally landed a partner position at this smaller firm in Portland Maine the salary wasn't as impressive but neither was the cost of living plus I needed the change divorce

has a way of making thinking you want to start fresh the morning started normally enough Sandra from HR showed me around handed me the keys and left me to settle in the office was bigger than I expected corner unit with Windows on two sides and enough space for a meeting table besides my desk previous tenant had good taste in furniture too solid oak desk leather chair and that lamp brass base with a green glass shade classic lawyer office stuff I tried the lamp switch nothing happened the light stayed on steady and bright I checked underneath

no switch there either following the cord to the wall I unplugged it the light didn't even flicker weird I muttered plugging it back in must be some kind of backup battery system made a mental note to ask maintenance about it later that first day passed in the usual new job chaos setting up my computer meeting colleagues reviewing Case Files by the time I looked up it was past 8 and the office had emptied out the cleaning crew had already come and gone through my window I could see other buildings going dark as businesses closed for

the night I gathered my things ready to head home that's when I heard it a voice soft but clear coming from the corner where the lamp stood and then the judge said I froze the voice was female elderly Maybe speaking as if in the middle of a conversation I walked closer to the lamp and the voice got clearer objections sustained of course Thompson nearly fell out of his chair my heart pounded I'm not usually the jumpy type but something about this wasn't right the voice seemed to be coming directly from the lamp itself or maybe

from the wall behind it I reached for the base planning to move it away from the wall the moment my fingers touched the brass The Voice stopped the metal felt warm warmer than it should have been from just a light bulb I quickly pulled my hand back the next morning I asked Sandra about the previous tenant her usual cheerful expression faltered Oh you mean Mrs abery sweet lady excellent attorney she was here for almost 30 years before retiring last spring did she mention anything unusual about the office the lamp maybe Sandra's smile disappeared completely I

think you should talk to Mr Hamilton about that James Hamilton the founding partner was an imposing man in his 60s with steel gray hair and perfect posture when I brought up the lamp he leaned back in his chair and studied me for a long moment Margaret Abernathy was one of the finest attorneys I've ever known he said finally brilliant mind for contract law she used to work late always had that lamp on said it helped her think did she ever mention here hearing anything strange Hamilton's expression hardened John let me be direct that office has

some quirks the previous two attorneys we tried to place there after Margaret left requested transfers within a week claimed they heard voices at night said the lamp wouldn't turn off nonsense of course but if you'd prefer a different office no I said quickly maybe too quickly no the office is fine I was just curious about about the lamps unusual wiring that night I stayed late again this time on purpose the cleaning crew came and went one by one the other offices went dark I sat at my desk pretending to work while watching the lamp from

the corner of my eye at exactly 9:47 p.m. it started the witness was clearly lying anyone could see that the same elderly female voice from before telling what seemed to be a story about an old case I sat perfectly still barely breathing and listened but you see I had the documentation right there all those receipts he' tried to hide the look on his face when I pulled them out the voice chuckled warm and satisfied it wasn't threatening or ghostly it sounded exactly like an experienced lawyer sharing War stories with colleagues I grabbed my phone and

started recording The Voice continued for exactly 17 minutes describing in deta detail how she'd caught a witness in a lie during a corporate fraud case when I played back the recording there was nothing but static over the next few weeks I developed a routine I'd stay late wait for the voice to start and listen to the stories they were always about cases some fascinating some mundane but all told with the same warm enthusiasm sometimes there were other voices too asking questions or laughing at the punchlines I never heard them as clearly as the main voice

though during the day I did some digging Margaret Abernathy had indeed been a legend in Portland legal circles specialized in contract law never lost a major case she'd retired to Florida 6 months ago but the interesting part was why her doctor had diagnosed early stage dementia she'd wanted to step down while she could still handle her cases competently the lamp stories continued every night always starting at exactly 947 sometimes they'd go on for hours I started taking notes writing down names and case details most of them checked out in public records the woman telling these

stories definitely knew her stuff one night about 2 months in something changed I was listening to a particularly interesting story about a contract dispute between fishing companies when suddenly The Voice stopped mid-sentence the lamp flickered the first time I'd ever seen it do that hello the voice said different now confused is someone there my throat went dry until now it had been like listening to recordings this was different yes I said my voice shaking slightly I'm here silence for a long moment then you're in my office it's my office now Mrs Abernathy I'm John Marshall

I took over your cases another long pause oh yes of course I retired didn't I sometimes I forget my hands were trembling your stories I've been listening to them they're fascinating the heram and fishing case oh she sounded delighted that was a tricky one did I tell you about the claws in section 7 that changed everything not yet well then let me start from the beginning and just like that we started talking really talking not just me listening to old stories we discussed cases legal strategy judges we both knew her mind was sharp as ever

when it came to the law even if she sometimes seemed confused about other things this went on for months every night at 9:47 the lamp would come alive with Misses Abernathy's voice and weed Talk Shop she was an incredible Mentor teaching me tricks about contract law that you'd never learn in law school my case success rate soared I never told anyone else about our conversations how could I but I did track down her address in Florida and send her a letter thanking her for her indirect mentorship and letting her know how her old cases were

doing her daughter wrote back saying her mother was too ill to respond but had smiled when the letter was read to her the next night Mrs Abernathy's voice was quieter than usual I got your letter she said my daughter read it to me I I don't remember our conversations John the doctors say I'm losing more memory each day but I'm glad I could help even if I don't remember how you've helped more than you know I told her the lamp she said suddenly I bought it my first day here 40 years ago always helped me

think when I started having trouble remembering things I'd work late talking through old cases to keep them fresh in my mind the lamp was always there listening after that night the voices changed they became less frequent more fragmented sometimes Mrs abery would start a story only to Trail off confused other voices I'd heard in the background began to fade 6 months later I received another letter from her daughter Mrs Abernathy had been moved to a Specialized Care Facility she no longer recognized family members and rarely spoke that night I sat in my office watching the

lamp 9947 came and went in Silence the lamp stayed on as always but there were no more voices no more stories it's been 2 years now the lamp still won't turn off but it's just a lamp now sometimes when I'm working late I could swear I hear a faint whisper like someone trying to remember a story but maybe that's just my imagination I won't ever move the lamp it stands in its Corner shining steadily a testament to 40 Years of legal Brilliance sometimes new clients ask about it wondering why I keep such an old lamp

that I never turn off good light for thinking I tell them and it is that's the thing about law it's all about preserving things contracts precedents memories sometimes they're preserved in documents sometimes in court records and sometimes just maybe in the warm glow of an old desk lamp that never stops Shining I still work late most nights and sometimes when the office is quiet and the lamp's glow fills the corner I tell my own stories to it just in case someone someday needs to hear them the first call came at 3:47 a.m. I know because

I checked the time on the old Nokia phone my uncle had given me the day before the screen screen lit up the darkness of my bedroom with its pale blue glow unknown number I almost declined it but something made me press the green button static crackled in my ear then voices muffled and distant like people talking through thick glass I pressed the phone harder against my ear straining to hear the storage unit on Marshall Street a man's voice broke through the static check the back corner my stomach tightened I had a St storage unit on

Marshall Street Unit 217 where I kept boxes of stuff from my divorce that I couldn't fit in my apartment I'd never told anyone about it hello I said who is this the line went dead I sat up in bed my t-shirt sticking to my back with sweat despite the Cool October air coming through the window the phone screen showed the call had lasted 42 seconds my Uncle Dave had given me the phone yesterday when I visited him at his repair shop found this while cleaning out the back room he'd said still works fine could be

a good backup phone I tossed it in my jacket pocket without much thought now I turned it over in my hand studying the scratched silver case and worn keypad sleep was impossible after that I made coffee and sat at my kitchen counter watching the sun rise through the window the phone sat silent on the counter like a dead thing at 9:15 a.m. it rang again same unknown number needs to be moved tonight different voice this time a woman Jack's old place on Cedar Lake Road my coffee mug slipped from my hand and shattered on the

floor jack was my best friend in high school he died in a car crash 10 years ago his parents still lived in the same house on Cedar Lake Road who are you I demanded how do you know about Jack more static than he'll be there at midnight click my hands shook as I cleaned up the spilled coffee this had to be some kind of prank but who would know about both my storage unit and Jack and why use this old phone to contact me I drove to my uncle's repair shop weaving through morning traffic the

closed sign hung in the window Dave always took Wednesdays off to go fishing back in my apartment I paced the phone stayed silent all day I tried calling the unknown number back multiple times but got only an automated message saying the number wasn't in service at 6:23 p.m. another call combination is 14278 a man's voice through the static the same numbers as my gym locker I'd never written them down anywhere listen I said gripping the phone so hard my Knuckles turned white I don't know who you are or how you know these things about me

but you need to stop this right now everything in place more voices in the background overlapping time running out the call ended I threw the phone across the room it bounced off the wall and landed on the carpet undamaged at 11:30 p.m. I got in my car I told myself I was crazy for doing this but I had to know the streets were almost empty as I drove to Marshall Street Storage the security gate was locked but I had the code yellow lights cast Long Shadows between the rows of identical metal doors unit 2117 looked

exactly as I'd left it 2 months ago I unlocked the padlock and rolled up the door the beam of my flashlight revealed stacked boxes old furniture framed photos still wrapped in bubble wrap in the back corner partially hidden behind a bookshelf was a black duffel bag I'd never seen before my hands trembled as I unzipped it inside was nothing but an old rotary phone its cord coiled like a snake the Nokia in my pocket rang making me jump unknown number now you understand the woman's voice was clearer now almost familiar we've been trying to reach

you reach me about what my voice echoed in the storage unit the signals crossed sometimes static crackled different times different places what does that mean who are you careful who you trust then the man's voice broke in in they're watching the phones the call ended I stared at the rotary phone in the duffel bag the metal felt cold under my fingers as I lifted it out that's when I noticed the manufacturer's label on the bottom the production date October 2nd 2024 tomorrow's date my Nokia rang again this time when I answered there was no static

just a clear voice that sounded exactly like my own don't answer the next call I drove to Cedar Lake Road with both phones on the passenger seat the Nokia stayed silent Jack's old house was dark except for a single window upstairs as I watched a shadow moved across the light the rotary phone in the duffel bag started ringing an actual physical ring that shouldn't have been possible without it being connected to anything I let it ring after five rings it stopped the light in Jack's house went out the noia lit up with a teex message

from the unknown number smart choice I spent the rest of the night driving aimlessly around the city afraid to go home the phone stayed quiet as the sun rose I pulled into a diner parking lot and tried to make sense of it all the waitress brought me coffee I didn't remember ordering rough night she asked I nodded not trusting myself to speak those old phones she said gesturing at the noia on the table they pick up all sorts of strange signals My grandmother used to say they could catch calls from different times I looked up

sharply but she was already walking away the Nokia's screen lit up with a final message time to let go I drove to the lake and threw both phones into the deep water they disappeared without a splash that was 3 months ago I've moved to a new apartment changed my phone number but sometimes late at night I still hear Phantom ringing and when I check my call log there's always one missed call from an unknown number lasting exactly 0 seconds I never answer unknown calls anymore some signals are better left uncrossed some voices should stay unheard

and sometimes the only way to escape the past or the future is to cut the line completely but I can't stop wondering about those voices those fragments of conversations that seem to know everything about me were they warnings threats messages from another timeline trying to break through I keep thinking about what the woman's voice said about signals Crossing between different times and places about the rotary phone with tomorrow's date about my own voice telling me not to answer last week I saw my Uncle Dave at a family dinner he asked what happened to that old

Nokia he gave me lost it I said he gave me an odd look what Nokia the one you found in your shop the backup phone phone you gave me 3 months ago never gave you any phone he said haven't cleaned out the shop in years I went home and checked my calendar October 2nd 2024 the date on the rotary phone was circled in red ink I don't remember marking it the circle is getting bigger every day sometimes I wake up at 3:47 a.m. exactly when that first call came my apartment is silent but I can

feel something listening waiting the air hums with unspoken words and crossed signals I've started writing everything down times dates names places everything The Voice has mentioned there are patterns I can almost see connections just beyond my grasp the storage unit Jack's house my gym locker combination how did they know yesterday I found an old phone bill from 3 months ago the unknown number appears in my call log but when I try to read it the digits seem to shift and blur each time I look they're different I bought a new phone last week latest model

all the security features but sometimes the screen flickers just for a second and shows that pale blue Nokia interface when that happens I can hear static building in the background like a wave about to break I've stopped keeping phones in my bedroom they migrate there anyway no matter where I leave them every morning I find them on my nightstand arranged in A Perfect Circle The Wait from the diner works there every morning except Wednesdays I've gone back a few times tried to ask her about what she said regarding her grandmother and phones catching signals from

different times but she always seems to disappear right when I'm about to bring it up the last time I was there I saw her talking on a silver noia identical to the one I threw in the lake I haven't been back to the storage unit haven't driven down Cedar Lake Road some doors are better left closed some calls are better left left unanswered but the signals are still crossing the lines are still open and somewhere in some time a phone is ringing with my number on the screen I've started carrying a watch instead of checking

my phone for the time it's an old analog model that doesn't need batteries it runs perfectly except it always stops for exactly 42 seconds at 3:47 a.m. the duration of that first call the phone company says my current number has been in service for exactly 3 months since the day I threw the phones in the lake but they can't tell me who had it before me the records show it's never been assigned to anyone else I dream about rotary dials spinning on their own about voices Crossing through static like ships passing in fog about phones

ringing underwater maybe someday I'll answer again maybe someday I'll understand what they were trying to tell me or warn me about until then I keep my phones on on silent and my doors locked at night I avoid antique shops and repair stores I've learned to live with the Phantom ringing the migrating phones the circles that keep getting bigger but sometimes when I'm alone and the world is quiet I think about sending a message back through time about being the voice on the other end of the line trying to warn myself about something I still don't

understand the signals are still crossing the lines are still open and somewhere a phone is ringing for for for for