True Scary Stories Told to the Sound of Rain | Relax and Fall Asleep Quickly Vol. 108 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 I never believed in ghosts not until we moved into 1247 Maple Street what happened there in those first 3 weeks changed everything I thought I knew about reality I'm writing this down now because I need someone else to know maybe then they'll believe me maybe then I'll believe

it myself my wife Sarah and I bought the house in October 2023 the price was too good to pass up a 1920s Colonial with hardwood floors and original crown molding listed at 40% below market value the real estate agent said the previous owners had relocated suddenly for work should have known better we moved in on a Tuesday the first sign started that very night I woke up at 3:17 a.m. to the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside our bedroom clear deliberate steps on the wooden floor the kind made by someone wearing shoes Sarah was

asleep next to me no one else should have been in the house I lay there Frozen listening the steps moved slowly past our door heading toward the stairs then they stopped I waited 5 minutes bar barely breathing before I got up to check the hallway was empty I checked every room upstairs all clear went downstairs and checked every door and window all locked must have been the house settling I told myself old houses make weird noises the next morning over coffee Sarah asked if I'd been walking around in the middle of the night no I

said why I heard Footsteps in the hall around 3:00 a.m. thought it was you checking something I didn't tell her what I'd heard didn't want to worry her we had enough stress with the move that night I woke up again at 3:17 a.m. the digital clock's red numbers burned in the darkness this time it wasn't footsteps the TV downstairs had turned on I could hear the muffled sound of voices and music drifting up the stairs I went down to check the living room TV was on playing an infomercial for some kitchen gadget the remote sat

on touched on the coffee table I picked it up hit the power button nothing happened pressed it again still nothing I walked to the TV and held down the power button manually it finally turned off back in bed I lay awake until sunrise listening for any other sounds Sarah slept through it all the next few days were normal we unpacked boxes arranged Furniture started making the house feel like home but every night at 3:17 a.m. something would wake me one night it was all the kitchen cabinets standing open though I'd closed them before bed another

night the bathroom faucet running full blast always at exactly 3:17 a.m. I started taking pictures on my phone documentation of each incident the open cabinets water pooled on the bathroom floor the TV on different channels Sarah thought I was being paranoid old houses are quirky she said the plum probably needs work maybe there's an electrical issue with the TV I wanted to believe her but then came the doors it was day N9 in the house we'd gone to bed around 11:00 I woke to the sound of our bedroom door creaking open the hallway was dark

no one there I got up closed it laid back down it creaked open again I closed it three more times each time it opened on its own slow and deliberate the fourth time I wedged a chair on under the handle 5 minutes later the chair scraped across the floor and the door swung open Sarah woke up then she saw the door standing open the chair pushed aside what's going on she asked I don't know I said the door keeps opening by itself she got up checked the hinges maybe it's not level could be swinging open

from Gravity but when she tried to demonstrate the door stayed firmly shut we both stood there watching it after a minute it swung open again no draft no vibration nothing we could explain Sarah's face went pale that's not normal no I said it's not that was when things escalated the next night every door in the house opened simultaneously at 3:17 a.m. the sound of a dozen doors swinging open jolted us both awake we huddled in bed listening to footsteps moving from room to room downstairs I grabbed the basement ball bat from under the bed and

went to investigate Sarah followed close behind clutching my shirt the footsteps continued always staying just ahead of us leading us through the house into the kitchen the living room the dining room back to the foyer we never saw anyone the temperature dropped our breath came out invisible Puffs the footsteps circled us getting closer Sarah screamed the steps stopped all the doors slammed shut at once we spent the rest of the night in our car the next day I called a home inspector he found nothing wrong with the house electrical system normal Plumbing fine Foundation solid

no explanation for any of it I started researching The house's history the local library had newspaper archives going back to the 1920s I found the original story from 1924 a wealthy businessman named James Henderson had built the house for his his wife elanar 6 months after moving in elanar disappeared James claimed she'd run off with another man her body was found 2 years later James Henderson was arrested but died in jail before the trial the official cause was heart failure guards reported he'd been ranting about Eleanor's ghost in the days before his death saying she

appeared every night at 3:17 a.m. the time he'd killed her I didn't tell Sarah what I'd found but that night at dinner she brought it up herself I saw a woman today she said quietly in our bedroom mirror she was standing behind me wearing an old-fashioned dress when I turned around no one was there I showed her the newspaper articles then she read them silently her hand shaking we have to leave she said we can't I replied we put everything we had into this house we're stuck here that night we tried staying awake past 3:17

a.m. sat in the living room with all the lights on TV playing loudly at 3:16 the Lights Went Out TV shut off temperature dropped until we could see our breath the footsteps started upstairs this time slow deliberate steps moving toward the stairs we heard the creek of each stair as something descended Sarah gripped my hand so tight it hurt I tried to stand but couldn't move the foot footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs moved across the foyer into the living room the room got colder a shape formed in the darkness a woman in a

long dress her face pale and gaunt she moved toward us feet not quite touching the floor Sarah screamed I tried to but no sound came out the woman elanar stopped in front of us her mouth opened impossibly wide a horrible screaming filled the room like metal scraping metal we ran drove to a hotel and stayed there 3 days when we finally went back to check on the house all our furniture had been rearranged every piece was turned upside down balanced perfectly on its top Edge physics defying Impossible on the living room wall words were scratched

deep into the plaster get out we did left everything behind walked away from the mortgage ruined our credit didn't care some things are more important than money the house is still there on Maples Street still listed for sale price dropping every month sometimes I drive by late at night the lights are always on at 317 a.m. sometimes I see a woman's figure in the upstairs window watching I check the real estate listings occasionally four different families have bought the house since we left none stayed longer than a month the latest listing doesn't mention the upside

down furniture they found when they moved in or the scratches on the wall or the footsteps at at night but the price is amazing if you're interested just don't say I didn't warn you about what happens at 3:17 a.m. Sarah won't talk about those 3 weeks anymore she throws away any mail with Maple Street in the address refuses to drive down that road sleeps with the lights on I understand I have my own new habits I wake up every night at 3:16 a.m. now no matter where I am watch the clock tick over to 317

hold my breath until 3:18 listen for footsteps sometimes on really quiet nights I hear them even miles away from Maple Street getting closer the scratches showed up on our new apartment wall last week just three words found you again we're moving tomorrow leaving the State starting over somewhere Ellen's footsteps can't follow but deep down I know the truth some doors once opened can never really be closed again and it's always 3:17 a.m. somewhere where I wasn't always an insomniac it started gradually like most bad habits do first it was staying up late to finish work

projects then it was browsing my phone until 2 a.m. before I knew it my sleep schedule had completely derailed I lived alone in my third floor apartment so there was no one to judge my nocturnal life lifestyle no one except the old man who appeared outside my window every night at 3:00 a.m. I first noticed him on a Tuesday in October the street light cast a harsh orange glow on the sidewalk below my apartment building I was sitting at my desk mindlessly scrolling through social media when movement caught my eye an elderly man in a

gray sweater and dark pants stood perfectly still on the sidewalk he faced the empty lot across the street completely motionless just standing there at 3:00 a.m. my first thought was that he must be confused or lost maybe he had dementia and had wandered away from home but he didn't look distressed or disoriented he simply stood there hands in his pockets staring Straight Ahead at nothing after watching him for about 10 minutes I considered going down to check if he needed help but something held me back maybe it was the unusual hour or the way he

stood so perfectly still or just my natural reluctance to get involved in strange situations eventually he turned and walked away disappearing around the corner of my building the next night I found myself looking out my window at exactly 3:00 a.m. there he was again same spot same position same empty stare my heart rate picked up slightly once could be random but twice seemed deliberate I watched him for 15 minutes this time again he simply stood there then walked away this pattern continued for weeks every single night at 3:00 a.m. the old man would appear and

stand motionless for exactly 15 minutes before leaving I began taking notes documenting the time he arrived and left what he wore which direction he came from and went I never saw where he came from he would simply appear at the edge of my vision and walk to his spot I never saw where he went either he always disappeared around the same corner I started arranging my desk so I could watch more comfortably moved my monitor slightly to the left positioned my chair at an angle that let me see the street while still appearing to look

at my screen I told myself I was just curious just documenting an odd occurrence but deep down I knew I was becoming Obsessed the old man never did anything different never looked around never checked his phone never sat down or stretched or showed any signs of fatigue just stood perfectly still staring Straight Ahead at the empty lot some nights I'd to see what he was looking at but there was nothing there just weeds and gravel and bits of trash I started taking photos with my phone trying to zoom in on his face the images always

came out too grainy and dark to make out any details I considered going down to confront him but something always stopped me the whole situation felt wrong somehow unnatural after 2 months of this nightly ritual I noticed something new the old man man's hands were no longer in his pockets they hung at his sides fingers slightly curled still he maintained his rigid posture and forward stare a week later his head tilted slightly to the right just a few degrees barely noticeable if you hadn't been watching him every night for months but I had and the

change sent a chill down my spine the following week his head tilted further now at almost a 45° angle his arms remained at his sides but his fingers seemed more tense more claw-like still he never moved during his 15-minute vigil I started having trouble sleeping even after he left I'd lie in bed replaying the image of his tilted head and rigid posture in my mind my dreams were filled with him standing there head twisted at impossible angles fingers curled into claws One Night in January I dozed off at my desk around 2:30 a.m. I woke

with a start at 2:55 my neck stiff from the awkward position as I stretched and checked the time my stomach dropped for the first time in months I'd almost missed his arrival I looked out the window waiting for him to appear 3:00 a.m. came and went no sign of him I felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed maybe he'd finally stopped coming maybe the whole strange episode was over at 3:10 a.m. movement caught my eye but it wasn't coming from the street it was in the reflection of my window I spun around in my chair the old

man stood in the corner of my room his head was tilted at a right angle to his shoulders his neck grotesquely stretched his eyes were pure white no pupils or Iris his mouth hung open revealing rows of needlelike teeth I couldn't move couldn't breathe couldn't scream my body was frozen in Terror as he stood there just as motion less as he'd been on the street but now he was staring directly at me my hands gripped the arms of my chair so hard my Knuckles turned white sweat dripped down my back my heart pounded so loud

I could hear it in my ears still neither of us moved after what felt like hours but must have been minutes he took a step forward his movement was jerky unnatural like a marionette being pulled by invisible strings I managed to find my voice and let out a strangled whisper what do you want his mouth opened wider impossibly wide stretching far beyond what a human jaw should allow a sound emerged not a voice but a high-pitched whne like radiostatic my ears popped from the pressure of it I squeezed my eyes shut covering my ears with

my hands the wine grew louder more intense until I felt like my head would explode then suddenly silence when I opened my eyes he was gone my room was empty everything exactly as it had been only the lingering smell of ozone suggested anything had happened at all I immediately packed a bag and left my apartment spent the night in a hotel called my landlord the next day and broke my lease I didn't care about losing my security deposit or finding a new place I just knew I couldn't spend another night in that apartment I moved

across the city to a first floor apartment in a busy neighborhood forced myself to go to bed at normal hours started seeing a therapist though I never told her the whole story just said I was having trouble sleeping and experiencing anxiety for 6 months everything was normal I started to convince myself it had all been some kind of extended hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and isolation I was sleeping better eating better feeling more like myself then last week I was up late finishing a project just before 3:00 a.m. I glanced out my window out

of habit there was nothing there of course just the well-lit street and the shops across the way but in the reflection of my window I saw him standing in the corner of my new apartment head tilted white eyes staring mouth beginning to open I didn't wait to see what would happen next I ran out of my apartment in my pajamas got in my car and drove until sunrise now I'm in a motel two states away writing this all down while I still can my hands are shaking so bad I can barely type it's 2:57 a.m.

I can see my windows reflection in my laptop screen something's moving in the corner of the room I don't want to turn around but I know he's there I know he's been following me all along I know what's going to happen when the clock strikes 3:00 a.m. I know I can't run anymore I know I should never have watched him that first night because now he's watching me and he'll never stop the clock on my laptop changes to 3 eyes a.m. I hear movement behind me this will be my last entry if you're reading this

don't look out your window at 3:00 a.m. don't watch the Watchers don't catch their attention because once they notice you noticing them they'll never leave you alone I'm going to turn around now he's I shouldn't have stayed in that apartment that's what I keep telling myself now but how was I supposed to know when your best friend asks for help moving you help that's what friends do you don't expect to end up trapped in a nightmare you don't expect to spend 8 hours fighting to stay alive but that's exactly what happened to me last Tuesday

night it started when I was helping Mike move into his new place on Bradford Street the building was one of those old converted Victorian Mansions the kind with high ceilings and creaky wooden floors the rent was cheap now I know why we'd spent most of the afternoon carrying boxes up three flights of narrow stairs my back hurt my arms were sore and all I wanted was to finish the job that's when I first saw it I was coming down from the third floor half blinded by sweat dripping into my eyes the stairwell was dim even

in daylight just a single window on each Landing letting in Gray afternoon light I wiped my face with my shirt and there it was hanging on the wall between the second and first floors at first glance it looked like a person pressed flat against the wallpaper the shape was humanized darker than the faded Floral Pattern surrounding it but something was wrong with the proportions the arms were too long hanging down past where knees should be the head sat at an odd angle like a broken dolls I stopped dead on the stairs my hand gripping the

wooden banister Mike I called up not taking my eyes off the figure hey Mike come look at this weird Shadow thing on your wall his footsteps creaked above me what shadow thing right here on the I turned to point as he came down the stairs but the wall was empty just yellowed wallpaper peeling slightly ly at the corners it was right here like a person's Shadow but wrong somehow Mike squinted at the wall I don't see anything man maybe it was just the light playing tricks these old buildings can be weird with shadows I rubbed

my eyes yeah maybe must be more tired than I thought we finished moving the last few boxes as the sun started to set Mike's girlfriend was flying in from Boston the next morning so he was heading to the airport to pick her up you sure you're cool crashing here tonight he asked jingling his car keys the couch is pretty comfortable I nodded my own apartment was being fumigated and a free place to sleep was a free place to sleep no problem I've got my sleeping bag and everything go get Sarah I'll be fine thanks again

for all the help man there's beer in the fridge help yourself I'll be back around 9: tomorrow morning the door clicked shut behind him his footsteps echoed down the stairs then faded away I was alone in the apartment the silence hit me first in my own place there was always some ambient noise traffic Neighbors The Hum of the refrigerator here the thick walls seemed to swallow sound I could hear my own breathing unnaturally loud in the quiet I cracked open a beer and started setting up my sleeping bag on the old leather couch the apartment

was actually pretty nice once you got past the musty smell High ceilings hardwood floors big Windows looking out over the street the previous tenants had left behind some furniture a scratched coffee table a couple of mismatched chairs moving boxes were stacked against the walls waiting to be unpacked the beer was going straight to my head on an empty stomach I dug through my backpack for the sandwich I'd packed earlier unwrapped it and took a big bite turkey and swiss on rye going slightly soggy better than nothing that's when I heard it a soft scraping sound

like fingernails on wallpaper coming from the stairwell outside the apartment I froze mid chew scratch scratch scratch moving slowly up the stairs getting closer I sat down my sandwich and walked to the door the scraping stopped I pressed my ear against the wood straining to hear nothing but silence hello I called through the door no response my hand was on the door knob when I remembered the figure from earlier the wrongly proportioned shadow that Mike hadn't seen something cold settled in my stomach the scraping started again right outside the door now long slow scratches like

something dragging itself across the wall I backed away from the door my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat the the scratching continued moving in irregular patterns sometimes fast and frenzied sometimes slow and deliberate always just on the other side of the door I fumbled for my phone nearly dropping it no service of course these old buildings were like concrete bunkers for cell signals the scratching stopped abruptly I held my breath listening a soft thump against the door made me jump then another and another like something gently beating its head

against the wood I retreated to the center of the living room eyes fixed on the door the thumping continued for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes then silence again my legs were shaking I sank down onto the couch still watching the door nothing moved no sound maybe it was gone maybe I was imagining things the overhead light flickered once twice then went out Darkness flooded the apartment the street light outside cast weak yellow squares on the floor Through the Windows my eyes struggled to adjust something moved in the shadows near the door

a darker patch of Darkness person-shaped but wrong those impossibly long arms that crooked head I couldn't move couldn't breathe the figure stayed perfectly still a hole in the air where light couldn't reach then slowly its head began to turn not like a person turning their head like a door hinge creaking past its natural stopping point further and further until it had rotated completely backward a sound came from it then not a voice exactly more like the noise a drowning person might make trying to scream underwater wet and desperate and wrong my paralysis broke I scrambled

backward over the couch knocking over a stack of boxes the figure jerked toward me moving in sudden stops and darts like a malfunctioning machine those arms unfurled stretching longer than any human arms could possibly be I ran for the bedroom slammed the door and locked it my whole body was shaking I pressed my back against the door trying to control my breathing it sounded like hyperventilating harsh and fast in the darkness scratch scratch scratch coming down the hallway getting closer I fumbled for the light switch with trembling fingers clicked nothing clicked click click the power

was still out the scratching reached the bedroom door I could feel slight vibrations through the wood against my back it was right there right on the other side the door knob began to turn I threw my weight against the door but it was like trying to hold back a freight train the door creaked open an inch then another cold air rushed through the Gap carrying a smell like wet Earth and rotting leaves I braced my feet against the floor straining to keep the door closed my arm burned with the effort the thing on the other

side pushed steadily inexorably the Gap widened to 6 in a hand slipped through bone white and skeletal with fingers twice as long as they should be the nails were black and curved scraping against the wooden floor as they reached for my ankle I kicked at the hand my foot passed through it like smoke but I felt a deep cold where it should have connected the hand kept coming followed by another they grabbed my legs with impossible strength I screamed as they pulled my fingers lost their grip on the door it flew open and I tumbled

backward into the darkness of the bedroom the figure stood in the doorway a perfect silhouette of nothing against the Shadows its head was still backward face hidden those grotesque arms reached for me longer and longer crossing the room in impossible ways I scrambled across the floor on my hands and knees trying to get to the window my my hips slammed into a box pain shot through my leg the arms were getting closer my hands found the window frame I yanked it open cold night air rushing in three stories up too high to jump the arms

wrapped around my waist cold penetrated my clothes my skin straight to my bones the drowning scream filled my ears again as the figure began to pull me backward I thrashed and fought but it was like fighting smoke my my hands passed through the arms even as they dragged me across the floor the bedroom door slammed shut on its own the figure's head began to turn again rotating forward this time with that terrible creaking sound I didn't want to see its face God I didn't want to see its face the first gray light of dawn pierced

through the window the arms holding me dissolved like Mist the figure retreated to the corners of the room becoming less distinct less real I lay on the floor gasping for air as sunlight slowly filled the room when I finally found the strength to stand I was alone the bedroom door was open the apartment was silent Mike found me sitting on the front steps when he got back from the airport still shaking slightly I told him everything he listened without interrupting his face growing more serious with each detail Jesus he said when I finished that's I

don't even know what to say you really saw all that I nodded I know how it sounds but it was real every second of it was real he ran a hand through his hair I need to tell you something when I was looking at apartments the landl Lord mentioned something about the previous tenant he disappeared one night just vanished leaving all his stuff behind they found the apartment door locked from the inside but no sign of him the police never figured it out and you did didn't think to mention this before I thought it was

just a story you know to explain why the rent was so cheap old buildings always have stories I stood up my legs still unsteady well now you got your own story good luck with that place man I need to go home and sleep for about a week wait Mike called as I started walking away what should I do I just signed a year lease I turned back the morning sun was bright making the old Victorian house look almost cheerful almost normal get some Sage I said lots of sage and whatever you do don't stay there

alone at night Mike moved out 3 weeks later breaking his lease and losing his security deposit the apartment is empty again now sometimes when I drive past at night I think I see movement in the windows a darker Shadow against the darkness something waiting I don't drive down that street anymore the banging started 3 days after I moved in not the usual apartment noises pipes footsteps or doors closing this was different sharp deliberate thuds against the wall we shared that's when everything went to hell I should have known better than to rent apartment 4B at

Oakwood Heights the price was too good for Downtown Chicago and the building manager seemed too eager to get me to sign the the lease but after my divorce I needed a fresh start and this place seemed perfect or so I thought the first two nights were quiet I spent them unpacking boxes arranging furniture and trying to make the place feel like home the walls were a bland beige and the carpet had seen better days but the windows offered a decent view of the city and the kitchen was recently renovated it wasn't much but it was

mine on the third night as I was drifting off to sleep I heard it thud then again thud like someone was hitting the wall with their fist I checked my phone 11:42 p.m. too late for Home Improvements too rhythmic for random noise hey I shouted hitting the wall back the sound stopped immediately I lay in bed staring at the ceiling waiting nothing just as I was about to dismiss it as a one-time thing it started again thud thud thud I got up pulled on a t-shirt over my pajama pants and walked to the wall the

banging continued steady as a metronome I pressed my ear against the wall the sound was clearer now definitely coming from the other side cut it out I yelled louder this time no response just more banging I grabbed my phone and pulled up the building's tenant directory apartment 4C no name listed great the banging continued for another hour before stopping abruptly I barely slept that night waiting for it to start again the next day at work I could barely Focus my eyes kept closing during meetings and I must have drunk six cups of coffee before lunch

my co-worker Sarah noticed rough night Mike she asked leaning against my cubicle new neighbors a nightmare I said rubbing my eyes kept banging on the wall all night did you talk to them going to tonight if it happens again it did happen again same time same Rhythm thud thud thud I threw off my covers and stormed into the hallway the fluorescent lights hummed overhead as I stood in front of for's door my fist was raised to knock when I noticed something odd no light showed through the Gap under the door I knocked anyway the banging

inside continued hey I called out it's your neighbor from 4B we need to talk about the noise no answer just more banging I tried the handle it turned easily unlocked a chill ran down my spine but I was too angry to care I pushed the door open the apartment was empty completely empty no furniture no curtains nothing on the walls just bare floors and blank walls the banging stopped the moment I stepped inside my heart pounded in my chest as I flipped the light switch nothing happened I pulled out my phone and turned on the

flashlight the beam cut through the darkness revealing peeling wallpaper and dust covered floors no Footprints except my own I walked through each room living room kitchen bedroom bathroom all empty no signs anyone had lived there for months maybe years my hands shook as I dialed the building manager's number Mr Chen it's Mike Harrison in 4B who lives in 4C 4C nobody been vacant 6 months why I hung up without answering the banging started again but this time it came from behind me from my own apartment I ran back to 4B slamming the door behind me

the banging followed me from room to room in the bedroom in the kitchen in the bathroom always just on the other side of whatever wall I was nearest to I grabbed my laptop and searched for other rentals in the area the banging grew louder more insistent my hands trembled as I typed the sound moved to the ceiling then the floor surrounding me I threw some clothes in a bag and ran out I spent the night in my car in a Walmart parking lot engine running for heat the next morning I called in sick to work

and went to a coffee shop to figure out my next move my phone buzzed a text from the building manager tenants complained about noise from your unit last night please keep it down I didn't go back to the apartment for 2 days I stayed with Sarah from work sleeping on her couch and trying to convince myself I had imagined everything but I knew I hadn't when I finally returned to get more of my things the banging started the moment I opened the door but now it was different faster angrier I grabbed what I could and

left I broke my lease that day lost my security deposit and had to pay a penalty Mr Chen seemed unsurprised when I told him I was leaving though I didn't tell him why as I carried out my last box I heard the banging one final time not from inside the walls but from the empty apartment across the hall I didn't look back I found a new place on the other side of the city it costs more and the commute is worse but at least it's quiet sometimes at night though when everything is still I catch

myself listening for that sound thud thud thud last week I drove past Oakwood Heights there was a for rent sign in the window of 4B I wanted to warn the next tenant tell them what happened but who would believe me they'll find out soon enough I still check the buildings rental listings online sometimes 4B and 4C are always available no matter how many times they're rented the prices keep getting lower and every few months I see police reports about noise complaints from that floor always at night always described the same way thud thud thud I've

tried to research the buildings history looking for similar stories or past incidents but there's nothing unusual in the records no deaths no crimes nothing that would explain what I experienced just a steady stream of short-term tenants in those two apartments sometimes I wonder if I should have stayed tried to figure out what was happening but then I Remember The Empty Apartment the sound that followed me the feeling of being surrounded by something I couldn't see or understand some Mysteries are better left unsolved I've moved on with my life got a promotion at work started dating

again but I keep a bag packed by my door just in case and I always always check the adjacent units before signing a lease last month Sarah told me she was looking for a new apartment she metion mened a great deal she found at Oakwood Heights I talked her out of it without explaining why some places are best avoided even if you can't explain the reason the banging hasn't followed me to my new place but sometimes when I'm falling asleep I swear I can hear it in the distance that same steady Rhythm getting closer thud

thud thud I try to tell myself it's just my imagination just the lingering effects of those terrifying nights but deep down I know better whatever was in that building whatever caused those sounds it's still there waiting for the next tenant the next person desperate enough or unlucky enough to rent apartment 4B I've thought about calling the police the building inspector anyone who might investigate but what would I tell them that An Empty Apartment makes noise that the sounds follow you they'd think I was crazy maybe I am all I know is what I experienced the

empty rooms the endless banging the feeling of being pursued by something I couldn't see it's not the kind of story people believe unless they've lived it themselves sometimes I drive by Oakwood Heights late at night the windows of 4B and 4C are always dark but if you listen carefully if you park across the street and roll down your windows you might hear it that steady rhythmic sound echoing through the night thud thud thud I won't go back I can't but I watch the rental listings and I read the police reports and I wonder about the

others who've lived there since how many of them heard the sounds how many ran like I did how many stayed the building stands there still looking normal enough in daylight but at night when the city quiets down it has a different feel like it's waiting like it's hungry I'm writing this down because someone should know the truth about apartments 4B and 4C at Oakwood Heights someone should understand what happens there maybe it will help the next person who hears the banging who opens that Empty Apartment door who realizes too late that some places aren't meant

to be lived in if you're reading this because you're thinking of renting there don't no matter how good the price no matter how desperate you are find somewhere else anywhere else and if you're reading this because you already live there if you've heard the banging if you've seen The Empty Apartment run don't wait like I did don't try try to understand it just get out the sound will follow you for a while you'll hear it in your dreams in Quiet Moments in the spaces between thoughts but eventually it will fade eventually you'll be able to

sleep through the night again just don't look back don't check the empty apartment don't try to solve the mystery some questions are better left unanswered some doors are better left closed and if you ever hear that sound again that steady rhythmic banging don't investigate don't try to find the source just run run as far and as fast as you can because once you open that door once you see the empty rooms and feel the presence that lives in those walls you'll never be the same you'll always be listening always waiting always wondering when you'll hear

it again thud thud thud I need to tell you what happened to me last night my hands are still shaking while I type this the coffee in my cup ripples with each Tremor I haven't slept I can't sleep not after what I saw on Highway 16 I drive that stretch of road twice a month to visit my daughter in milbrook it's a 4-Hour trip through nothing but desert and scrub land yesterday's Drive started like any other I left Phoenix at at 8:00 p.m. after finishing my late shift at the warehouse the temperature had dropped to

72° my old Ford pickup hummed along at 65 maluu the radio only picked up static by 11:00 p.m. I hadn't seen another car for at least an hour the moon hung full and bright in a cloudless sky my headlights cut through the darkness Illuminating the empty road ahead and the occasional Cactus or tumble weed along the shoulder the air conditioning worked overtime against the lingering heat I checked my gas gauge just under half a tank enough to reach the next station still 90 M ahead I grabbed my lukewarm coffee from the cup holder and took

a swig the bitter liquid helped keep my eyes open that's when I first saw it in my rearview mirror at first I thought it was just a shadow or a trick of the Moonlight a dark shape moved across the road about 200 yd behind me it was too big to be a coyote too fast to be a person the shape seemed to Glide rather than run I blinked hard and looked again the shape was closer now maybe on 150 yards back my grip tightened on the steering wheel sweat Beed on my forehead despite the AC

in the mirror I could make out more details the thing stood at least 7 ft tall its body was thin unnaturally thin like a skeleton wrapped in black leather long arms hung down past its knees it moved in a jerky uneven way that made my stomach turn I pressed the accelerator the pickups engine roared as the speedometer climbed past 75 a quick glance in the mirror showed the creature keeping Pace its movements became more fluid at the higher speed more predatory my heart pounded against my ribs the steering wheel felt slick under my sweaty Palms

I pushed the truck faster 80 85 90 manikas the engine wind and protest the whole vehicle shuttered another look in the mirror the thing was closer maybe 100 yards now I could see its head hairless and elongated like a stretched out human skull no visible eyes just dark Hollows where eyes should be its mouth hung open revealing rows of needlelike teeth no no no no I muttered my foot pressed the accelerator to the floor the speedometer reached 95 empty coffee cups rattled in the cup holders the truck's frame groaned from The Strain the creature matched

my speed effortlessly its long limbs moved in impossible ways as it closed the distance between us 80 yards 60 yard 50 yards I swerved into the oncoming Lane then back again trying to shake it the pickup's tires squealed the thing followed my movements exactly staying directly behind me 40 yard now my chest felt tight each breath came in short gasps spots danced at the edges of my vision the road ahead blurred as tears of panic filled my eyes I wiped them away with a shaking hand when I looked in the mirror again the creature was

gone for a moment relief flooded through me then I heard it a sound like fingernails on metal coming from the bed of my truck it was on the pickup the entire vehicle lurched as something heavy landed in the truck bed the rear suspension groaned metal creaked and popped those long skeletal fingers appeared at the edges of my rear window they were bone white each ending in a sharp black claw the fingers tensed and I heard the Screech of claws dragging across glass I yanked the wheel hard to the left then right the pickup fish tailed

wildly the tires howled but the thing held on the rear window exploded inward glass shards rained down on my neck and shoulders cold air rushed in carrying a smell like rotting meat and burnt metal I heard its breathing behind me wet ragged sounds that made my skin crawl something sharp scraped against the back of my seat without thinking I slammed on the brakes the truck's tires locked up we skitted sideways across both lanes the creature tumbled forward over the cab with an inhuman shriek I saw it roll across the hood and hit the the pavement

as soon as the truck stopped sliding I threw it in reverse the tires spun for a moment before finding grip I backed up as fast as I dared aiming the front bumper at the thing as it got to its feet its movements were jerky again as it straightened up in the headlights I could see its skin not black leather like I'd thought but something rougher like burn scars stretched over bone I floored the accelerator the pickup shot backward the creature Dove to the side at the last second I yanked the wheel trying to clip it

with the bumper but missed throwing the truck into drive I spun the wheel hard the pickup swung around in a wide Arc tires screaming as soon as I faced forward again I punched the gas the thing was already running alongside the truck those long arms reached for my door claws scraped against metal I swerved toward it trying to force it off the road it leaped away easily then came right back we were doing at least 70 MTO PR my side mirror exploded as one of those arms smashed it I heard claws puncture the door panel

the whole truck shuttered as the creature tried to pull itself closer up ahead I spotted a guard rail where the road curved around a steep drop off an idea hit me probably suicide but better than letting this thing get me I kept the gas floored as we approached the curve the creature clung to my door trying to find purchase on the smooth metal those empty eye sockets stared directly at me through the window at the last possible second I cranked the wheel away from the curve the pickup's tires left the pavement we went Airborne for

a moment as we jumped the guard rail the creature lost its grip I caught a glimpse of it tumbling away into the darkness as the truck began to fall the impact knocked the wind out of me the pickup rolled once twice three times down the rocky slope metal crunched glass sh shattered my seat belt dug into my chest when the truck finally stopped rolling it was on its Wheels the engine was dead steam hissed from the crumpled Hood every part of my body hurt I fumbled with the seat belt release my fingers felt thick and

clumsy blood dripped into my eyes from a cut on my forehead a sound from above made me freeze rocks clattered down the slope something was moving in the darkness the seat belt finally came came loose I fell sideways against the door my whole body screaming in pain the door handle felt miles away more rocks tumbled down closer now I could hear that wet breathing again my trembling fingers found the handle I pushed the door open and fell out onto the ground sharp rocks dug into my Palms as I tried to crawl away from the truck

a thud behind me the creature had reached the bottom of the slope I forced myself to my feet pain shot through my left ankle probably sprained I stumbled forward anyway limping as fast as I could the Moonlight cast my shadow ahead of me on the rocky ground a second Shadow appeared stretching long and distorted beside mine I didn't look back I just ran each step sent daggers of pain up my leg my lungs burned blood and sweat stung my eyes something grabbed my jacket from behind claws scraped against my back as I tore free leaving

the jacket in the creature's grip up ahead I saw lights a highway different from the one I'd been on but a highway meant cars people safety the thing behind me shrieked a sound like metal grinding on metal it echoed off the rocks my ears rang 20 yards to the highway 15 10 headlights appeared around the bend and 18-wheeler I waved my arms frantically the truck's horn blared its brakes squealed I dove toward the shoulder as it roared past when I looked back the creature was gone I collapsed on the gravel gasping for air my whole

body shook the taste of blood and bile filled my mouth more Vehicles passed eventually someone stopped an older couple in an RV they called an ambulance the paramedics found me in sh babbling about the thing that chased me the police searched the area but found nothing no tracks no claw marks on my truck they blamed the crash on fatigue said I was lucky to survive but I know what I saw I know what chased me on that empty stretch of highway 16 I'm writing this from my daughter's house in milbrook she picked me up from

the hospital this morning the doctors say I have a concussion three broken ribs and a sprained ankle could have been much worse I'll never drive that road at night again during the day maybe when the sun is high and bright but not at night not with that thing out there sometimes I catch myself staring at the shadows in the corners of rooms looking for movement listening for that wet ragged breathing and every time I close my eyes I see those empty black sockets staring back at me through my truck window I see those long skeletal

fingers reaching I feel those claws scraping against metal getting closer and closer I know it's still out there waiting in the darkness hunting if you're ever driving on Highway 16 late at night and you see something strange in your rearview mirror something tall and thin moving too fast too smoothly don't slow down don't stop just drive drive as fast as you can and pray it isn't hungry I never should have gone running that Sunday that's what I keep telling myself now sitting here in my living room with all the lights on and my heart still

racing what happened today changed everything I need to write this down while it's fresh while I can still remember every detail maybe then someone will believe me it started at 6:45 a.m. I remember checking my watch before leaving the house the streets were empty like they always are early Sunday morning the air felt cool against my face as I joged down my driveway and headed toward Wilson Park I'd done this route hundreds of times before 3 miles through the park around the lake and back home standard stuff the first mile went normally my breath came

out in white Puffs in the morning air my shoes hit the pavement in a steady Rhythm left right left right The Familiar burn built up in my calves I passed the old oak tree at the park entrance its branches bare in the winter air the gravel crunched under my feet as I turned onto the trail that circles the lake that's when I first felt it a prickling sensation on the back of my neck you know that feeling when someone's watching you it was like that but stronger I glanced over my shoulder but saw nothing except

the empty path behind me I picked up my Pace slightly telling myself I was being paranoid the park was deserted I hadn't seen another Soul since leaving my house but the feeling didn't go away if anything it got stronger I heard it before I saw it a soft shuffling sound like something dragging across the gravel it was maybe 30 ft behind me I didn't want to look but I had to I turned my head slowly to the left still running my legs almost gave out there was something following me on the path at first glance

it looked like a large dog but dogs don't move like that this thing it walked on four legs but they were too long too jointed in the wrong places its body was dark almost black and seemed to shift and ripple as it moved like oil flowing over muscle I ran faster my heart hammered in my chest sweat ran down my back despite the cold the shuffling sound behind me sped up too I could hear it clearly now a wet sliding noise punctuated by the click of claws on gravel I made the mistake of looking back

again it was closer now maybe 20 ft behind me I could see its face Jesus Christ its face no eyes that I could see just smooth dark skin stretched tight over a skull that was too long to pointed its mouth hung slightly open showing rows of needle thin teeth I sprinted everything they tell you about proper running form went out the window I just ran arms pumping feet pounding the trail my lungs burned the thing behind me made a sound a high-pitched whne that made my teeth ache I reached the North End of the park

and burst out onto Cedar Street my house was still a mile away the shuffling got louder closer I could smell it now a musty rotting odor that made my stomach turn my legs felt like lead I couldn't maintain this pace much longer I risked another look back the creature had closed the distance to about 10 ft as I watched its mouth opened wider than any animal should be able to revealing a throat that seemed to go on forever lined with those horrible teeth I cut through the Anderson's yard jumping their fence in one desperate leap

my ankle Twisted as I landed but adrenaline kept me going behind me I heard wood splinter as the creature crashed through the fence like it was made of paper five blocks to go four three my vision started to blur at the edges my chest felt like it was going to explode the thing's breathing grew louder a wet raspy sound that seemed to fill my head I fumbled for my house keys as I ran nearly dropping them twice two blocks one my driveway never looked so good I could hear the creature's claws clicking on the asphalt

right behind me I reached my front door shoved the key in and practically fell inside I slammed the door shut and locked it then slid down to sit on the floor gasping for air through the small window in the door I saw it the creature stood at the bottom of my porch steps completely still its skin rippled and shifted in the morning light that pointed eyeless face tilted to one side like it was studying me its mouth opened again showing those endless rows of teeth we stayed like that for what felt like hours but was

probably only minutes me on the floor heart threatening to burst out of my chest the creature watching from the yard then slowly it lowered its head in what almost looked like a nod it turned and walked away movements still wrong still too fluid for anything with bones I watched until it disappeared around the corner then I got up locked every door and window in the house and closed all the blinds that was 6 hours ago I haven't moved from my living room chair since then the Sun is setting now Shadows are growing longer outside I

keep thinking I see movement in the yard through gaps in the blinds and something something is scratching at my back door I know it's out there waiting I know it followed me home and I know with a certainty that makes me want to scream that it's not going away my watch shows 7:13 p.m. the scratching is getting louder I think I think it's trying to get in the door hinges are creaking now metal groans against metal I should run I should call someone but my body won't move all I can do is sit here and

listen as the scratching gets louder and louder end note found on James Mitchell's laptop no trace of Mitchell was ever found in the house the back door was still locked from the inside but deep scratches marked the wood around the doorknob the investigation remains open I know what I saw that night at Dan's house the shadow under his study door wasn't cast by anything natural and what followed me home I still feel it some nights sitting there watching but let let me start from the beginning I need to get this down exactly as it happened

it was Tuesday October 12th I remember because I had just finished my quarterly sales report at work and Dan had invited me over to celebrate with a drink we'd been friends since College 20 years now the clock on my dashboard read 7:43 p.m. when I pulled into his driveway Dan lived in one of those old Victorian houses on Maple Street three stories white paint peeling around the the windows black shutters that needed replacing the porch light flickered as I walked up the cracked concrete steps a gust of cold wind hit my face when Dan opened

the door Mike come in come in got that bourbon I've been saving Dan's enthusiasm seemed forced dark circles hung under his eyes and his normally neat beard had grown patchy he'd lost weight since I'd last seen him two months ago I followed him through the narrow front hall into his living room Family Photos lined the walls Dan with his wife Sarah before the divorce their daughter Emma's graduation picture from last year the house felt colder than it should have even for October everything okay I asked settling into his worn leather armchair you look tired Dan's

hand shook slightly as he poured the bourbon yeah just work's been hell the merger is not going well he handed me a GL glass and sat heavily on the couch plus This Old House keeps making weird noises at night probably need to get the heating checked we talked about normal things for a while work Sports his daughter's college applications but Dan kept glancing toward the hallway that led to his study his eyes would Dart over then quickly back to me after the third time I noticed his fingers drumming rapidly on his knee need to use

the bathroom I at around 9:00 p.m. the bourbon had hit my bladder upstairs one's broken Ed the one past my study Dan said quickly too quickly the hallway was dark only a thin line of light showed under the study door about halfway down as I walked past the light disappeared completely blocked by something moving on the other side a shadow sliding by like someone walking but I hadn't heard any footsteps I stopped damn someone in your study what no no I'm right here his voice carried from the living room tighter than before I stood there

staring at the door the shadow had been solid black too dark for just someone walking past a lamp and now that I thought about it I hadn't seen any light fixtures on in that room when we'd arrived the bathroom suddenly seemed less urgent I walked quickly back to the living room Dan was standing now Empty Glass clenched in his hand think I should head home I said early meeting tomorrow Dan nodded too fast yeah yeah thanks for coming by he practically rushed me to the front door as I stepped outside he grabbed my arm his

fingers dug in hard enough to hurt Mike he swallowed just keep your lights on at night okay I drove home unsettled the conversation played over in my head Dan's nervous glances his jumpiness that weird warning and that shadow it hadn't moved like a normal Shadow more like Thick Smoke but completely black my house was dark when I pulled up I'd forgotten to leave the porch light on the key scraped against the lock three times before I got it in inside I flipped on every switch I passed the lights pushed the darkness into corners but they

couldn't touch the unease crawling up my spine I did my normal routine jacket on the hook Shoes by the door phone plugged in to charge mundane actions to convince myself everything was fine the bathroom mirror showed my face pale under the fluorescent lights I splashed cold water on my cheeks and got ready for bed sleep wouldn't come I lay there staring at the ceiling replaying that shadow sliding under Dan's study door the heating kicked on with a rattle that made me jump l 47 p.m. the bedside clock read in harsh red numbers that's when I

felt it a slight depression at the foot of my bed like someone sitting down the mattress dipped Springs creaking softly but there was nothing there my body went rigid the weight shifted slightly settling the room's temperature seemed to drop 10° I couldn't move couldn't breathe my heart slammed against my ribs as sweat broke out across my forehead I wanted to sit up to turn on the lamp to run but my muscles wouldn't respond The Invisible Presence sat there heavy and undeniable minutes stretched like hours the only sound was my shallow breathing and the blood rushing

in my ears finally I managed to whisper who's there the weight disappeared instantly but I felt something move through the darkness a brush of cold air across my face like someone walking past the bedroom door creaked softly I lay there until dawn rigid under the covers ears straining for any sound when sunlight finally crept Through the Windows I called in siik to work I needed to talk to Dan his house looked different in daylight just an old Victorian needing paint and repairs I knocked for 5 minutes no answer his car sat in the driveway but

the curtains were drawn I tried calling straight to voicemail I left three messages before driving home that night I put off going to bed as long as possible I watched mindless TV until my eyes burned but eventually exhaustion won I made sure every light in the house was on before climbing under the covers at 2: a.m. the weight returned this time I felt it sink into the mattress as soon as I lay down heavier than before the temperature plummeted until I could see my breath in the Lamplight I squeezed my eyes shut what do you

want no response just that crushing Presence at my feet my legs went numb from the cold radiating from the invisible visitor it stayed longer this time hours maybe I lost track when it finally left the sun was Rising my alarm showed 6:47 a.m. I called Dan again voicemail I drove past his house on the way to work his car hadn't moved the curtains remained drawn the pattern continued for days every night the presence would come sometimes it just sat there other times it would move around the room I'd feel it brush past me cold spots

tracking its movement small objects would shift position my keys on the dresser books on the nightstand clothes I'd laid out for the next day I stopped sleeping more than an hour or two at a time dark circles appeared under my eyes my hands shook constantly co-workers started asking if I was sick still no word from Dan after a week I called his daughter Emma her voice was tight with worry I haven't heard from him in days she said his work says he hasn't been in I was about to call the police I'll check on him

I said I have a spare key from when I watched his house last summer the key felt ice cold in my hand as I approached Dan's front door that evening the house loomed above me all sharp angles and shadows in the Setting Sun no lights showed through any Windows the door creaked open into darkness the air inside felt thick stale like no one had opened a window in days Dan my voice echoed in the empty hallway no response I found the light switch nothing happened the bulb must have burned out I used my phone flashlight

to navigate through the house the living room was exactly as I'd left it a week ago empty glasses still on the coffee table Dan's jacket draped over the couch a thin layer of dust covered everything my light beam reached the study door it stood slightly a jar now as I watched it slowly swung wider the darkness Beyond seemed to pulse to breathe I should have run every Instinct screamed to get out but I had to know what happened to to Dan the study air felt like ice my phone light showed Dan's desk papers scattered across

it a half empty coffee mug rings of mold floating on the surface and on the floor a piece of paper covered in Dan's frantic handwriting most was illegible but I made out a few phrases it followed me home can't sleep they're getting stronger more of them now should never have opened that door movement caught my eye a shadow darker than the darkness around it slid across the wall another joined it then another they moved like smoke but seemed solid enough to swallow my phone's light the temperature dropped further my breath came out in white clouds

the Shadows converged flowing together into a mass of absolute Blackness I ran through the hall past the living room out the front door I didn't stop until I reached my car that was 3 days ago go I haven't been back to Dan's house the police are looking for him now they found his car in the garage a half tank of gas no signs of Foul Play just an empty house and a missing man but I know what happened the Shadows took him the same ones that visit me every night now there are more of them

each time last night I counted five distinct weights on my bed they stay longer move more boldly I haven't slept in 48 hours the shadows in the corners of my Vision grow darker more solid they follow me during the day now I see them sliding along walls at work flowing underd doors gathering in empty rooms I'm writing this at my kitchen table it's 11:23 p.m. soon I'll have to go to bed I can already feel the temperature dropping the darkness beyond my light seems thicker than it should be they're waiting for me I know that

now whatever they did to Dan they're going to do to me maybe they already are each night the cold seeps deeper into my bones my thoughts move slower sometimes I catch myself staring into Shadows watching them pulse and shift I should run leave everything behind and drive until I find somewhere bright enough to keep them away but I know it wouldn't matter they followed Dan home that first time they'd follow me too the lights just flickered I can feel them Gathering the darkness breathes around me I have to go to bed now they're calling if

anyone finds this stay in the light and if you see a shadow move wrong run run before they notice you run before they follow you home run before they sit on your bed in the dark waiting but it's too late for me they're here I never wanted to write this down but I need to tell someone what happened maybe then I can sleep again without checking every corner of my bedroom or jumping at every Creek in the floorboards it started 3 months ago when I bought Charlie the African gray parrot looking back I should have

known something was wrong from the first day I live alone in a two-story house in Suburban Massachusetts after my divorce last year the silence started getting to me the empty room seemed to mock my solitude that's why I decided to get a pet dogs were too much work with my accounting job and cats made me sneeze a parrot seemed perfect intelligent company without the neediness of a dog I found Charlie on Craigslist the previous owner Mrs Henderson was moving into assisted living and couldn't keep him when I arrived at her house something felt off the

place smelled like moth balls in rotting wood and misses Henderson's hand hand shook as she handed me Charlie's cage she wouldn't look me in the eye he's a good bird she said her voice trembling just don't let him out at night and if he starts talking strange maybe it's best to she stopped herself and pushed the cage into my hands the fee is waved just take him I should have asked more questions but Charlie looked healthy slate gray feathers bright eyes and alert posture he even said hello in a perfect human voice when I approached

I figured Mrs Henderson was just a weird old lady I took Charlie home that afternoon the first week was normal Charlie learned my name quickly and picked up phrases I commonly used like time for work and want some coffee he was quiet at night and seemed well adjusted I started leaving his cage door open during the day so he could stretch his wings though he rarely flew around then the weird stuff started I woke up one night to the sound of a woman laughing not just any laugh a specific kind of laugh high-pitched and breathy

like someone trying to stifle their Amusement it came from downstairs my heart racing I grabbed the baseball bat I keep under my bed and crept down the stairs The Laughing stopped when I reached the living room only Charlie was there perched on top of his cage in the dark he cocked his head at me and said hello James in that same breathy feminine voice I'd heard laughing I nearly dropped the bat Charlie he ruffled his feathers and went back to sleep the next morning I convinced myself it was just a weird dream African grays are

known for their vocal abilities he must have picked up that laugh from TV or his previous owner but I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right the laugh had sounded so specific so personal like someone I should remember a few days later I was working from home when Charlie started speaking in what sounded like multiple voices having a conversation I recorded it on my phone don't go in there man's voice deep and urgent but I have to see woman's voice different from the laugh please no you'll wake it child's voice time to sleep now

elderly woman raspy each voice was distinct with different accents and emotions when I approached Charlie he stopped and started pining his feathers like nothing had happened I played the recording for my sister on the phone but she said it just sounded like normal parrot mimickry that's when things escalated I started finding objects moved around the house small things at first my coffee mug on the other side of the counter my keys in different drawers my shoes lined up differently than I'd left them I installed a security camera in the living room but the footage showed

nothing except Charlie occasionally flying from his cage to the window and back the night sounds got worse footsteps on the stairs when I was alone in bed whispered conversations I couldn't quite make out the sound of doors opening and closing every time I investigated I'd find Charlie awake in his cage watching me with those intelligent eyes one morning I came downstairs to find all my kitchen cabinet doors wide open Charlie sat on the counter picking at some spilled cereal did you do this I asked him he turned to me and said in Mrs Henderson's shaky

voice they come at night James they've always come at night I called Mrs Henderson's daughter and asked about Charlie's history she told me they'd bought him from a pet store 5 years ago but the store had no record of where he came from before that Mrs Henderson had started acting strange about 2 years after getting Charlie talking about voices in the house claiming objects moved on their own her daughter thought it was early dementia the final straw came last week I woke up at 3:00 a.m. to the sound of Charlie screeching not a normal parrot

Screech but a human Scream Of Terror I ran downstairs and found him flying in circles around the living room every single piece of furniture had been pushed against the walls creating a clear space in the center of the room Charlie landed on my shoulder his claws digging into my skin in my ear he whispered in a child's voice I'd never heard before they're dancing again I looked at the empty space face in the middle of the room for a split second I thought I saw movement like heat waves rising from hot pavement but in the

shape of people the temperature dropped so fast I could see my breath that's when Charlie spoke in a voice that made my blood freeze it was deep inhuman like gravel being crushed they were here before you James before the house before the town they dance every night and now they teach me their songs I broke out in a cold sweat who teaches you the ones who never left Charlie's head twisted 180° to look behind us the ones who watch you sleep I ran upstairs locked myself in my bedroom and spent the rest of the night

listening to footsteps and Whispers in the hallway the next morning I called every pet store in bird sanctuary within 100 miles finally a small rescue center Two Towns over agreed to take Charlie I drove him there that afternoon ignoring the way he kept repeating they'll follow you in different voices as I handed his cage to the rescue worker Charlie spoke one last time it wasn't in any of his usual voices it wasn't even in a human voice the sound came from deep in his throat like multiple voices speaking in harmony they're not attached to me

James I just learned their songs they've always lived in your house check the basement wall where the old door used to be they're waiting for you to find them I haven't been back to my house since I'm writing this from a hotel room trying to decide what to do the thing is I never told Charlie about the old door in the basement I found it 2 weeks after moving in a bricked up doorway behind some storage shelves I never mentioned it to anyone the rescue center called yesterday Charlie hasn't made a sound since I left

him there he just sits on his perch staring at the wall but they told me something else something that makes me question everything they did a DNA test as part of their intake process Charlie isn't an African gray parrot they don't know what he is I've been looking through historical records of my house three families have lived there before me each one moved out suddenly without explanation the records go back to 1887 when the house was built but here's the detail that keeps me awake at night the original basement extended beyond that bricked up doorway

it was sealed off in 1889 after all seven members of The First Family disappeared their bodies were never found I know I should sell the house and move on that would be the rational thing to do but Charlie's last words keep echoing in my head they're waiting for me to find them and sometimes late at night in this hotel room I hear that familiar high-pitched laugh coming from the darkness maybe they followed me after all or maybe they were never just in the house to begin with I keep thinking about what Mrs Henderson said when

she gave me Charlie if he starts talking strange maybe it's best to what was she going to say what did she know the rescue center called again this morning Charlie escaped during the night they say it's impossible his cage was locked the windows were closed and the security cameras showed nothing but he's gone I'm writing this in case something happens to me if you're reading this and you see a great gray parrot that speaks in multiple voices don't take him home don't listen to the voices he's learned and whatever you do don't let him tell

you about what he sees in the dark because now I know the truth Charlie wasn't haunted he wasn't possessed he was just the messenger and some messages are better left undelivered I'm going back to the house tonight I have to know what's behind that basement wall I have to know why they chose my house my pair at me I've bought a sledgehammer and a flashlight I'll update this if I make it back if I don't well just remember what I said about the parro and if you hear a woman's laugh in the dark don't assume

it's coming from a bird because Charlie taught me one thing some voices don't need a body to speak and some stories don't need to be told to be true I should have kept driving that's what I tell myself now months later when I wake up at 3:00 a.m. with my heart pounding and sweat soaking through my sheets I should have ignored my growling stomach the heavy pull of my eyelids and the warning light on my dashboard telling me I had 50 Mi of gas left but I didn't I stopped at that Diner and now I

can't stop thinking about what I found there the sign caught my eye first Betty's 24-hour diner in red neon on against the black Nevada Sky mile marker 237 on Route 50 about 4 hours East of Reno I'd been driving for 19 hours straight trying to make it from Seattle to Denver for my dad's funeral my sister had called yesterday morning heart attack sudden no warning I needed to be there by tomorrow afternoon I pulled into the gravel parking lot three other cars were there a blue Chevy pickup from the 9s a red Honda Civic and

a white Crown Victoria that looked like an old police car the lot's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead drawing Circles of moths the diner's Windows glowed yellow through the glass I saw the typical setup counter with red vinyl stools booths along the windows pictures of food on the walls a radio played something that sounded like old country music turned down low I couldn't make out the words I pushed open the glass door a bell jingled above my head the smell hit me first coffee grilled onions and something sweet like pie but no one came to greet me

hello I called out my voice echoed slightly against the lolium floor no answer I walked further in my boots squeaking anyone here the music played softly from a radio behind the counter paty Klein I realized crazy but it was scratchy like it was coming through bad reception a ceiling fan spun slowly overhead the air felt thick and warm despite the desert night outside my t-shirt stuck to my back I looked down the counter coffee pot sat on warmers steam Rising a plate of eggs and hash browns waited under a heat lamp a bell sat on

the counter with a sign that read ring for service I rang it The Sound cut through the music sharply nothing happened hello I tried again louder this time I I'd like to order something still nothing I walked behind the counter peering through the service window into the kitchen grills were on their surfaces gleaming a pot of soup bubbled on a back burner but no cook no waitress no bus boy that's when I noticed the booth in the corner two plates of food sat on the table a half-eaten burger with fries scattered across the plate and

a club sandwich with one bite taken out of it both had condensation beating on the lettuce like they'd been sitting there a while two glasses of ice water were nearly full the ice unmelted a purse hung on the coat Hook by the booth my hands felt cold something was wrong here people don't just walk away from their meals like this I pulled out my phone no signal of course I walked to the kitchen door and pushed it open anyone back here everything okay the kitchen was spotless except for a single pan on the stove still

sizzling with what looked like a burger patty burning black a knife lay on a cutting board next to a half sliced tomato the walk-in refrigerator hummed my heart started beating faster I walked to the refrigerator and pulled the handle cold air rushed out empty shelves stretched Back Into Darkness I let the door swing shut back in the dining room I noticed things I hadn't before a jacket draped over one of the counter stools ke sitting on a table a newspaper folded open to the crossword pencil resting across it the coffee pots began to make a

burning smell I turned them off I went to the front door and looked out at the parking lot the three cars sat exactly where they had been no movement no sound except the buzz of the lights and that scratchy radio behind me I should leave I thought get in my car and drive until I hit the next town but something held me there I needed to know what happened here I checked the office behind the register papers scattered across the desk including what looked like that day's receipts the time clock showed six employees had punched

in for the evening shift none had punched out the bathrooms were empty the storage room was locked I rattled the handle but couldn't get in back in the dining room I sat at the counter and stared at my reflection in the mirror behind it my face looked pale dark circles under my eyes from driving all day the music had changed to Johnny Cash now but still that strange static underneath I don't know how long I sat there maybe 5 minutes maybe 30 the burger in the kitchen had stopped sizzling the soup had stopped bubbling the

ceiling fan kept turning a sound made me jump just ice shifting in the untouched water glasses my heart pounded I stood up this wasn't right I needed to call someone the police the highway patrol somebody I walked to the door it wouldn't open I pushed harder nothing the lock hadn't engaged I could see it was still in the open position but the door wouldn't move I tried the other door same thing I went to the windows and pressed my face against them cupping my hands around my eyes to block the glare the parking lot looked

different the lights were dimmer or maybe they were off completely and I was seeing things the radio crackled louder for a moment through the static I heard what sounded like voices not singing but talking I couldn't make out the words I ran to the counter and grabbed the phone no dial tone I jabbed the buttons anyway nothing the ceiling fan was moving slower now I watched it turn counting the rotations one 2 3 it stopped the coffee pots I'd turned off started gurgling again again steam Rose from them in the silence that's when the lights

went out not all at once they flickered first humming and buzzing like they were struggling then Darkness slammed down like a door closing my eyes couldn't adjust it was pure black the kind you get in caves I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face the radio kept playing the static was louder now than the music I fumbled for my phone hands shaking the screen lit up casting a blue glow 2:37 a.m. still no signal I swept the phone's light around the diner everything looked wrong the walls seemed further away the counter seemed

longer the ceiling higher the booth with the abandoned meals was empty now clean like no one had ever sat there I turned toward the windows the parking lot was gone just dark Ness pressed against the glass my phone's light began to dim I knew the battery was nearly full I charged it at my last stop but the screen grew darker and darker until it went black the static on the radio grew louder the voices underneath became clearer they were calling out names times places numbers I backed away from the counter until I hit the wall

my hands touched wallpaper peeling and soft with age that's when I smelled it dust and mold the cooking smells were gone the air felt cold I slid along the wall until I found a window my fingers left trails in a thick layer of dust on the glass A light appeared outside distant at first then growing brighter headlights a car was coming I pounded on the window hey help in here the headlights grew closer through the filthy glass I could just make out a car slowing down pulling into the lot my car with me inside it

I watched myself Park saw myself look up at the glowing sign watched myself walk toward the door but there was no sign no lights the building I was in was dark abandoned falling apart I screamed pounded on the glass harder but the other me couldn't hear I saw myself push open the door which swung easily now and walk inside the radio static crescendoed the voices called out Clearly Now June 12th 1987 Betty's Diner mile marker 237 four customers two staff September 3rd 1999 Betty's Diner mile marker 237 One customer three staff April 15th 2010 Betty's

Diner mile marker 237 three customers four staff then a new voice November 17th 2024 Betty's Diner mile marker 237 1 One customer the static took over completely drowning out everything else I closed my eyes and pressed my hands over my ears when I opened them again I was sitting in my car in the parking lot of Betty's Diner the engine was running the clock on the dashboard read 239 a.m. the building in front of me was dark boarded up the sign was gone leaving only Rusty brackets on the wall weeds grew through cracks in the

parking lot no other cars were there I hit the gap pedal hard gravel sprayed as I accelerated back onto the highway 4 hours later I pulled into a gas station just outside of Denver the sun was Rising my hands had stopped shaking enough to hold a coffee cup the old man behind the counter looked at me strangely as I paid you okay son look like you've seen a ghost I'm fine I said just been driving all night hey you know anything about an old Diner out on Route 50 B he frowned Betty closed down decades

ago some kind of tragedy bunch of people disappeared one night never found them place has been abandoned ever since he peered at me why you asking I shook my head no reason just past it that's all but I knew what had happened to those people now they were still there in that other version of Betty's Diner still sitting in their booths still still waiting for their meals still listening to that radio I drove to my father's funeral sat through the service hugged my sister flew back to Seattle went back to my life but sometimes late

at night I hear static on the radio and underneath it voices calling out names and dates and I wonder is someone else pulling into that parking lot right now walking through that door joining all the others in that Endless Night at Betty's Diner I should have kept driving that's what I tell myself but I know it wouldn't have mattered because I was already there wasn't I I'm still there we all are mile marker 237 the lights are on but nobody's home I didn't believe in ghost until I bought the old Peterson Farmhouse now I know

better let me tell you exactly what happened during those 3 months and you can judge for yourself it started the day I signed the papers the realtor warned me about the work needed broken windows rotting floorboards outdated wiring but the price was right at 42 recently divorced and tired of apartment living I wanted a project something to keep my hands and mind busy The Farmhouse sat on 15 Acres of overgrown land planned an hour outside Portland Maine perfect for starting fresh the first week went normally I cleared brush repaired the front steps and started cataloging

everything that needed fixing the work felt good physical real each night I crashed on my air mattress in the living room too tired to think about Sarah or the divorce then came that first Shadow I was replacing baseboards in the dining room when movement caught my eye a dark shape sliding across the far wall my head snapped up but nothing was there just peeling wallpaper and cobwebs I figured it was a cloud passing over the Sun but it happened again the next day and the day after always in my peripheral vision always gone when I

turned to look the Shadows moved like someone walking past Windows except there were no windows on that side of the room The Whispers started next soft at first barely noticeable over my power tools in the old House's natural Creeks but soon I could hear them clearly muffled voices having conversations I couldn't quite make out they seemed to come from inside the walls hello I called out the first time is someone there silence I blamed it on lack of sleep on working too hard but then my tools began disappearing I sat down my hammer while measuring

a board turned to pick it up again and it was gone on found it hours later in the kitchen sink My Level vanished from the master bedroom and showed up in the hall closet my tape measure moved from my tool belt to the bathroom counter while I was showering my heart would race every time I discovered something moved sweat broke out on my forehead but I forced myself to find logical explanations old houses settle the floors aren't level things roll then came the day I lost my phone I'd been using it to photograph repair projects

document progress set it on the kitchen counter while making lunch when I reached for it gone I searched everywhere growing more frustrated by the minute checked every room twice finally I heard the faint Buzz of a notification coming from upstairs following the sound led me to the master bedroom the buzzing seemed to come from inside the wall I pressed my ear Against The Faded wallpaper and heard it clearly my phone was in there I ran my hands over the wall surface looking for seams or gaps found a slight Ridge near the baseboard pulled back the

wallpaper to reveal the edge of a door painted over and sealed shut decades ago my hands shook as I PRI it open with a crowbar the hidden space was small maybe 4T wide and deep dust coated everything my phone sat in the center of the floor screen glowing but what made my blood run cold were the photographs dozens of them scattered across the floor and tacked to the walls black and white images of the house and its former inhabitants a family of four parents two children posed stiffly in Sunday clothes the same family at dinner

at Christmas working in the garden the final photo showed just the mother she sat in a rocking chair by the dining room window staring directly at the camera with Dark Hollow eyes the date scrawled on the back June 15th 1954 something brushed against my neck a cold Whisper of touch I spun around but the doorway was empty yet I could feel a presence there watching waiting my legs went weak I grabbed my phone and scrambled out slamming the hidden door shut ran downstairs and didn't stop until I reached my truck I sat there engine running

heart pounding part of me wanted to drive away and never look back but as I stared at the house I felt a pull like invisible threads tugging at my chest the presence I'd sensed didn't feel threatening it felt lonely that night I forced myself to go back inside set up a voice recorder in the dining room and asked questions into the silence who are you what do you want playing back the recording between bursts of static I heard a woman's voice stay please stay I've been here 3 months now the Shadows still cross the walls

my tools still wander but I've grown used to it sometimes in the evening I sit in that dining room and talk to her Sarah Peterson I learned her name from County records tell her about my day my plans for fixing up her house she listens I know because the air grows thick and still like someone holding their breath sometimes I hear her whispered responses too faint to make out the words but the meaning is clear she's happy I'm here happy someone is caring for her home and she doesn't want me to leave I don't plan

to there's something comforting about not being alone in this big old house about having a purpose a connection to this place and its history Sarah and I we've reached an understanding I restore her home maintain her memories and in return well let's just say I always know where to find my tools these days the divorce papers came yesterday Sarah moved them from the mailbox to my bedside table I signed them this morning feeling lighter than I have in years sometimes the end of one story is just the beginning of another even now as I write

this I can sense her nearby a subtle pressure in the air a faint scent of lavender the Shadows still startle me sometimes The Whispers still make me jump but they're familiar now almost welcome some might call me crazy for staying maybe I am but I think Sarah and I both needed someone who understood what it means to be left behind to have your life upended your future erased we're healing this house together and maybe healing ourselves in the process tonight I'll open that hidden door again add my own photographs to her collection create new memories

alongside the old because this isn't just her home anymore it's mine too and neither of us is alone now the Sun is setting time to put away my tools in their proper places of course Sarah insists on order I've learned to appreciate her particular ways the routine of it the quiet companionship I hear the rocking chair creaking in the dining room she's waiting for our evening talk I'll tell her about fixing the back porch today about my plans to restore the garden come spring she'll listen and maybe whisper her own stories of this place of

the life she lived here and tomorrow we'll do it all again me with my hammer and nails her with her shadows and Whispers two broken Souls making something whole again some might call it haunted I call it home the security guard didn't show up for my 9:00 a.m. appointment at the Blackstone textile mill I waited in my car for 30 minutes watching early March snow collect on my windshield before using the key they' mailed me the lock was stiff from disuse inside my footsteps echoed through the empty Lobby stirring up dust that had settled over

Decades of Abandonment I needed to document everything before demolition started next month Machinery architecture anything of historical value that's what the preservation Society hired me to do I checked my watch 9:45 a.m. still no guard my breath came out invisible Puffs as I pulled out my camera and notepad the mill had been offline since 1989 and it showed water stains marked the ceiling paint peeled from the walls in Long strips the front desk varnish had bubbled and cracked I moved deeper into the building photographing everything the main production floor stretched out before me row after

row of looms and spin machines Frozen in Time cobwebs draped between the machines like dirty curtains my flash illuminated the Metal Frames catching glimpses of colored thread still loaded in some of the machines the deeper I went the darker it got my flashlight beam caught something unusual writing on one of the fabric rolls still mounted on a loom I stepped closer brushing aside cobwebs names were written in faded ink across the edge of the cloth Mary Sullivan 1985 Robert Chen 1987 Angela Martinez 1988 I frowned taking photos maybe the workers signed their finished products but

these dates were near the end of the Mills operation I moved to another Loom finding more names and dates some of the handwriting looked rushed almost frantic the dates jumped around 1983 1989 1986 a crash echoed from somewhere behind me I spun around heart pounding hello security my voice bounced off the walls no answer probably just something falling these old buildings settled all the time I kept documenting the names moving deeper into the production floor the dates got stranger 1990 1992 1995 but the mill closed in ' 89 made no sense the beam of my

flashlight caught something that made me freeze there written in clear Black Ink David Marshall 2024 my name my year I stared at it mind refusing to process what I was seeing it had to be another David Marshall but right below it was my birth date 4578 a low humming sound filled the air I Whirled around flashlight beam dancing across the machines the sound grew louder mechanical like gears starting to turn who's there I shouted my voice cracked the humming stopped complete silence fell again my hand shook as I photographed the fabric with my name the

flash seemed dimmer than before I checked my camera's screen the image was there proof I wasn't imagining things I needed to get out report this to someone but as I turned to leave I noticed more writing below my name two more dates death 31524 return 32024 today was March 14th the humming started again louder this time machines clicked and word in the darkness metal scraped against metal the sound came from all around me I ran my flashlight beam bounced wildly as I sprinted between the rows of Machinery The Sounds followed growing louder gears grinding shuttles

clacking spindles worring the whole floor seemed to be coming alive I slammed into something hard a loom had moved blocking my path that was impossible these machines hadn't worked in decades they weren't even connected to power The Sounds were deafening now in the strobing light of my flashlight I saw Shadows moving between the machines the air felt thick hard to breathe my chest burned I turned down another row trying to remember the way out more looms had moved the path Twisted differently than before I was lost in a maze of metal and darkness my flashlight

caught a figure standing at the end of the row a woman in Old work clothes face pale and gaunt she pointed at something behind me I spun around nothing there when I looked back she was gone the Machinery sound stopped abruptly in the sudden silence I heard footsteps multiple sets moving through the darkness getting closer I crouched behind a loom trying to control my breathing my flashlight flickered and died pitch Blackness pressed in around me the footsteps stopped nearby a voice whispered so close I felt breath on my ear you don't belong here yet I

ran blind desperate crashing into machines my hands found a wall I followed it stumbling over debris there a sliver of light the exit I burst out into the lobby lungs burning pale sunlight filtered through the dusty windows The Mill was silent again the security guard was waiting by the front desk sorry I'm late he said traffic was terrible just got here I stared at him trying to catch my breath how how long ago did you arrive he checked his watch about 2 minutes ago it's 10:15 that was impossible I'd been inside for hours hadn't I

sir are you all right you look like you've seen a ghost I walked out without answering in my car I checked my camera the photos were still there Machinery cobwebs rows of names written on fabric but the image of my name was gone just static where that photo should have been I drove home in a days my wife was in the kitchen when I walked in you're home early she said how was the mill I opened my mouth to tell her everything but how could I explain what happened I barely understood it myself fine I

said just Dusty and empty nothing interesting that night I couldn't sleep every time I closed my eyes I saw those dates written below my name March 15th tomorrow I got up around 3:00 a.m. and went to my home office my hands shook as I typed up my notes from the mill trying to make sense of it all the names the dates The Impossible sounds of Machinery coming to life a low humming started somewhere in the house I froze fingers hovering over the keyboard the sound grew louder familiar metal grinding against metal from downstairs I heard

the washing machine start up then the dishwasher the refrigerator motor kicked on with a grinding noise I'd never heard before the lights flickered my computer screen went black in the darkness I heard footsteps on the stairs I sat there unable to move as they came closer multiple sets like in the mill the door handle started to turn my phone lit up a text message tomorrow 2:47 p.m. corner of Oak and Maine Red pickup truck runs the light unless you're not there the footsteps retreated the house went silent my computer screen blinked back to life I

stared at the message until sunrise when my wife woke up I told her I was taking a sick day she said I looked terrible and should rest instead I drove to the corner of Oak main parked where I could see the intersection and waited at 2:46 p.m. a red pickup truck came speeding down Main Street the driver was looking at his phone I watched the truck run the red light at 2:47 p.m. watched it Miss a minivan by inches watched it continue down the street driver oblivious to how close he'd come to causing a tragedy

I sat there for a long time hands gripping the steering wheel if I'd been crossing the street at that moment that night I went back to the mill the security guard was gone but the door was unlocked the production floor was dark and silent I found the loom with my name again the dates had changed Ed death avoided return unnecessary below that new writing appeared as I watched Choose Wisely not everyone gets a warning I left the mill and never went back they found someone else to document it before demolition I read about it in

the paper they discovered extensive water damage had compromised the building structure several support beams were ready to collapse the whole place could have come down at any time sometimes I still hear Machinery at night the washing machine running when it's empty the dishwasher starting on its own but the sounds don't scare me anymore they're just reminders I've started visiting accident scenes hospitals places where people's lives hang in the balance I look for names written in unexpected places when I find them I leave warnings most people probably think they're crazy seeing their names and future dates

scrolled in odd corners but some of them listen some of them avoid their appointments with fate I don't know why I was chosen for this don't know who or what runs the Machinery in that Mill keeping their strange Ledger of life and death but I understand my role now the mill may be gone but its work continues and so does mine this morning I found new writing on my bathroom mirror through the steam David Marshall next assignment 32124 location St Mary's hospital room 412 subject Michael Chen age 8 I'll be there the machines have never

been wrong the headlights of my Chevy Impala cut through the darkness on Rural Route 16 Illuminating maybe 30 ft of cracked asphalt ahead it was 11:47 p.m. according to the green numbers glowing on my dashboard I hadn't seen another car for at least 40 minutes not since passing through milbrook the radio had gone to static 20 minutes ago and my phone showed no bars just me the rumble of the engine and endless corn fields on both sides of the road I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel fighting to keep my eyes open three more

hours to go before I'd reach mom's house in Cedar Rapids I hadn't planned on driving this late but a client meeting in Chicago ran long and I couldn't afford another night in a hotel the first time I saw the figure I almost missed it just a dark shape at the edge of my headlights walking along the shoulder as I got closer I could make out more details tall and thin wearing what looked like a dark coat that went down to their knees they were walking with their back to me Steady and unhurried I eased off

the gas dropping from 60 to 40 the figure kept walking showing no sign they heard my car approaching I moved toward the center line to give them plenty of room as I passed except when I looked again they were gone I blinked hard and leaned forward peering through the windshield the shoulder was empty no movement in the corn fields no one walking ahead or behind just empty roads stretching Into Darkness what the hell I muttered my hands tightened on the steering wheel I pressed the gas pedal eager to put whatever I'd seen behind me the

engine revved and the speedometer climbed back toward 60 that's when I saw it again the same figure same dark coat walking along the shoulder maybe 50 yards ahead my stomach clenched I hadn't passed them they'd been behind me and now they were in front of me again I slowed down once more heart pounding against my ribs the figure kept walking same steady Pace as before as I got closer I noticed their movement seemed off somehow too smooth like they were gliding instead of stepping 20 yards away now I could see the coat wasn't moving in

the wind 10 yards they still hadn't turned or acknowledged my car 5 yards I had my foot hovering over the break ready to stop if they suddenly stepped into the road the figure vanished one second they were there the next nothing Jesus Christ my voice came out as a horse whisper sweat Beed on my forehead despite the cool air coming through the vents I stomped on the gas pedal the Impala's engine roared as I accelerated to 70 then 80 my hands were shaking on the steering wheel whatever I'd seen I needed to get away from

it fast the engine coughed the car lurched losing speed I pressed harder on the gas but nothing happened the engine made a grinding sound then died completely no no no no I pumped the gas pedal frantically as the car coasted to a stop the headlights flickered and went dark plunging me into near total darkness only the faint Moonlight filtering through clouds provided any visibility I turned the key in the ignition the starter clicked weakly but the engine wouldn't catch I tried again nothing my breath came in short gasps I fumbled for my phone hoping maybe

I'd gotten a signal still no bars that's when I heard it a soft thump from the trunk I froze straining to listen another thump slightly louder than another something was in my trunk I didn't put anything in my trunk I never used the trunk it should be empty the thumping continued steady and rhythmic it reminded me of knocking like someone tapping to get attention but that was impossible no one could be in there I gripped the steering spring wheel so hard my Knuckles turned white maybe it was just the engine settling or something loose rattling

around had to be a mechanical issue the thumping got louder more insistent no longer just Taps now it sounded like someone hitting the inside of the trunk with their fist Thump Thump Thump my whole body was trembling sweat ran down my back soaking my dress shirt I needed to get out of here I tried the ignition again turning the key so hard I was afraid it might snap off the engine remained dead silent but the thumping from the trunk grew even louder Thump Thump crash the last impact was so forceful the whole car shook I

yelped and grabbed for the door handle before I could open it I caught movement in my rear viw mirror the trunk lid was slowly Rising I threw open the driver's door and practically fell out of the car my dress shoes slipped on the loose gravel of the shoulder as I stumped LED away from the vehicle I could hear the trunk continuing to open behind me with a long drawn out Creek don't look back don't look back don't look back I looked back the trunk was fully open now a black rectangle against the darker mass of

the car something was moving inside unfolding itself from the cramped space I caught glimpses of pale flesh and dark fabric my legs finally responded to the screaming signals from my brain I ran I sprinted down the middle of the road dress shoes slapping against the asphalt my breath came in ragged gasps the corn fields on either side were just dark walls in my peripheral vision after maybe 50 yards I risked another glance over my shoulder the figure from the trunk was standing upright now impossibly tall and thin it wore the same dark coat I'd seen

on The Walking figure earlier its head nearly reached the telephone lines alongside the road it wasn't moving just standing there watching me run I faced forward again and pushed myself to run faster my lungs burned sweat stung my eyes I had no idea how far the next town was or even which direction it lay all I knew was I had to get away from whatever was behind me a sound cut through my panicked breathing footsteps on the road not running footsteps slow deliberate steps like someone taking a casual evening stroll they were coming from ahead

of me I skitted to a stop shoes scraping on the asphalt there at the edge of visibility in the Moonlight was another figure same height same coat walking toward me with that unnaturally smooth gate I spun around the figure by my car hadn't moved it still stood there watching they had me trapped between them I looked left and right at the corn fields the stalks were packed tightly together but maybe I could push through them better than staying on the road before I could move more fig F stepped out from between the rows of corn

four five six of them all identical tall and thin wearing dark coats they formed a rough circle around me walking with that same steady Pace my legs gave out I collapsed to my knees on the road trembling uncontrollably the figures kept walking drawing closer with each step their faces were hidden in Shadow but I could feel them watching me 10 ft away now 8 ft 6 ft they stopped moving forming a perfect circle around me none of them spoke none of them moved they just stood there looming over me like dark pillars I couldn't look

up at them I stared at the asphalt watching my tears fall and create dark spots on the road surface my whole body shook with silent sobs a hand touched my shoulder long fingers ice cold even through my shirt I screamed the hand pulled away footsteps resumed but they were moving away now when I finally found the courage to look up the road was empty I was alone again no figures on the road or in the fields no sound except the Whisper Of Wind Through the cornstalks UN shaking legs I stood up my car sat where

I'd left it maybe 200 yards back the trunk was closed as I watched the headlights flickered on and I heard the Eng engine turn over and start running it took me 5 minutes to walk back to the car every few steps I spun around checking behind me beside me above me but nothing appeared the car was running smoothly when I reached it idling as if nothing had happened I opened the trunk with Trembling Hands it was empty no signs anyone or anything had ever been inside I got back in the driver's seat and put the

car in gear as I accelerated away I kept checking my mirrors expecting to see those tall figures standing in the road behind me but there was nothing there I drove the rest of the way to Cedar Rapids with all the lights on inside the car radio blasting even though it was still just static I didn't slow down for anything and I didn't stop until I reached my mom's driveway just before 3:00 a.m. mom was surprised to see me so early i' told her not to expect me until morning she asked why I look so pale

why my clothes were soaked with sweat why my hands wouldn't stop shaking I told her I'd had car trouble that was all just car trouble on a dark Road I've never driven Rural Route 16 again I take the interstate now even though it adds an hour to the trip sometimes when I'm driving at night I catch myself checking the shoulder of the road looking for tall figures in dark coats and every time I hear a noise from my trunk even just groceries shifting around my heart starts racing I don't know what I saw that night

I don't want to know but sometimes when I'm trying to fall asleep I remember those long cold fingers on my shoulder and I wonder what would have happened if they hadn't let me go 3 months after that night I was getting gas at a station just outside Chicago when I overheard two guys talking one was describing a drive he'd taken down a rural road seeing a strange figure walking along the shoulder that would disappear and reappear I didn't stay to hear the rest of his story I got in my car and drove away as fast

as I could but as I merged onto the highway I couldn't help wondering how many others have seen them how many others have felt those cold fingers on their shoulder and how many weren't allowed to walk away I still drive for work sometimes usually during daylight hours but every now and then my job requires a night drive those are the worst times when the sun sets and the roads empty out even on busy highways there are always dark stretches between cities where the only light comes from your headlights I keep telling myself I'm being paranoid

that I imagined everything that happened that night or maybe dreamed it during a moment of highway hypnosis the human mind can play tricks when you're tired and alone on a dark road but I know what I felt those fingers were real that cold touch on my shoulder wasn't something I imagined last week I had to drive to Milwaukee for a meeting it ran late and I found myself on the road well after dark about an hour into the drive my engine started making strange noises I pulled into the first gas station I saw and asked

the mechanic to check it out he couldn't find anything wrong but as he was closing the hood he paused and looked at me with an odd expression you ever drive Rural Route 16 he asked I felt my mouth go dry why he Shrugged and wiped his hands on a rag just wondering get a lot of folks through here who've had strange experiences on that road tall figures in dark coats they say car troubles noises from the trunk I got back in my car and drove away without answering him but I could feel his eyes on

me as I pulled out of the station and I wondered if he'd seen them too if he'd felt those cold fingers on his shoulder I wonder how many of us are out there the ones who've encountered them and live to tell about it how many people take longer roots to a void certain roads at night how many check their trunks compulsively before every Drive how many wake up in a cold sweat remembering impossibly tall figures surrounding them on a dark Road sometimes I think about going back to Rural Route 16 during the day just to

prove to myself that it's just another country road that there's nothing Supernatural about it but I know I never will because what if they're still there waiting in the corn fields what if they're not limited to the darkness what if next time those cold fingers don't let go so I stick to main roads now I keep my tank full so I never have to stop at Rural Gas Stations after dark and most importantly I never ever drive on empty Country Roads at night but sometimes when I'm alone in my car and the Sun is setting

I catch myself watching the shoulder of the road looking for tall thin figures in dark coats waiting for my engine to sputter and die and I wonder if somewhere out there on some empty stretch of road they're watching for me too the mechanic's words haunt me more than I'd like to admit how many others have seen them how many stories haven't been told because those cold fingers didn't let go how many cars have been found abandoned on Rural roads their drivers missing Without a Trace I could do research look up missing persons cases along Rural

Route 16 but I won't some questions are better left unanswered some Mysteries should stay Mysteries all I know is this if you're driving at night and you see a tall figure walking along the road ahead of you don't slow down don't stop and whatever you do don't look in your trunk just drive drive as fast and as far as you can and pray those cold Fingers Never Find Your Shoulder because next time they might not let go I shouldn't have taken that new route home that's what I keep telling myself but Max needed his evening

walk and I was tired of the same old path through the neighborhood that's how I found myself on Cedar Grove Street a newly developed area about half a mile from my house and that's where I saw something I can't explain something that keeps me awake at night staring at the ceiling and wondering if I really saw what I think I saw it was 8:45 p.m. last Tuesday I remember checking my phone just before it happened the street was empty lined with those cookie cutter suburban houses that pop up overnight these days max my three-year-old German

Shepherd trotted along beside me his leash slack in my hand the street lights cast orange pools on the fresh asphalt that's when I first noticed the church it sat back from the road about 50 yards a squat brick building with a bell tower that looked out of place among the modern homes weeds pushed through cracks in the concrete path leading to its front door the windows were dark some boarded up others just empty black squares in the brick walls Max's ears perked up he stopped walking and stared at the church his body going rigid I

tugged his leash but he wouldn't budge come come on boy I said giving the leash another pull it's just an old building that's when I saw the first flash a quick burst of light from the bell tower window like someone striking a match I blinked thinking it might be Reflection from a passing car but there wasn't any traffic as I stood there another flash came longer this time it looked like the beam of a flashlight sweeping across the inside of the tower my skin prickled the street suddenly felt colder emptier Max let out a low

growl something I rarely heard from him I stepped closer to the church's iron fence squinting up at the tower the light flashed again and this time I saw something else a dark shape moved past the window not just movement a distinct human silhouette someone was up there my heart started hammering against my ribs logic told me it was probably just some teenagers who'd broke in but something felt wrong the shape I'd seen was too tall too thin to be natural and it had moved in a way that made my stomach turn not walking but gliding

past the window Max barked suddenly the sound echoing off the surrounding houses I jumped nearly dropping his leash when I looked back up at the tower the shape was there again but this time it wasn't moving it stood in the window a black cutout against the darkness and I swear I swear to God it was looking right at me I couldn't make out any features it was just a solid black form darker than the night around it but I felt its gaze like ice water running down my spine my leg started shaking Max's barks turned

into whimpers and he pressed against my legs trying to back away the light flashed again brighter than before Illuminating the tower from within for a split second I saw the shape more clearly it was impossibly tall its head nearly touching the top of the window frame its proportions were wrong arms too long torso too thin then the light went out and the shape disappeared with it I ran I'm not ashamed to admit it I turned and ran dragging Max behind me he didn't need any encouragement we sprinted all the way back to the main road

our footsteps echoing in The Empty Street I didn't look back until we reached the corner and when I did the church sat dark and Silent showing no sign of what I'd just seen that night I barely slept every time I closed my eyes I saw that shape in the window I told myself I was being ridiculous that there had to be a logical explanation maybe it was just Shadows from trees moving in the wind maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me but deep down I knew what I'd seen the next morning I called in

sick to work I couldn't concentrate anyway I spent the morning pacing my house debating what to do finally around noon I decided I had to go back I had to know this time I left Max at home the walk to Cedar Grove Street felt longer in daylight the suburban houses looked ordinary and innocent their Windows reflecting the Autumn Sun but as I approached the church my steps slowed something was different the fence that had surrounded the property was now wrapped in yellow caution tape a large no trespassing sign had been bolted to the front gate

but that wasn't what stopped me in my tracks the church itself had changed every window including the tower window was sealed with fresh plywood heavy chains wrapped around the front doors secured with a padlock that looked brand new I stood there for several minutes staring there's no way someone had done all this overnight it would have taken a crew of workers hours to board up every window and yet I knew I knew those windows had been open just 12 hours ago a car slowed as it passed me and the driver gave me a strange look

I realized I was standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring at an abandoned building like a crazy person I forced myself to walk closer the weeds I'd seen pushing through the concrete were gone the path had been cleared and swept clean even even the brick walls looked different darker older somehow I approached the fence my hands shaking as I touched the caution tape I wouldn't do that if I were you the voice made me jump an old man stood on the sidewalk behind me walking a small white terrier he looked like he lived in

one of the nearby houses khakis polo shirt ball cap sorry I said stepping back from the fence I was just curious about the church the old man's face tightened that place has been condemned for years structural issues nobody's allowed inside years I shook my head but just last night I was walking by here and you must be thinking of a different church he cut me off his voice was firm but there was something else in it fear this one's been closed up since before they built these houses they're supposed to demolish it soon but I

saw lights in the tower I insisted and there was someone son the old man stepped closer his Terrier cowered behind his legs listen to me carefully that church has been sealed for a long time nobody goes in there nobody can go in there whatever you think you saw he glanced at the building and lowered his voice just stay away from it some places it's better not to ask questions about he turned and walked away before I could respond tugging his reluctant dog along with him I watched him go my mind spinning I pulled out my

phone and searched for information about the church nothing no historical records no news articles not even a mention in the neighborhood development plans I spent the next hour walking around the building's perimeter the boards covering the windows looked weathered up close like they'd been there for months or years the chains on the door were rusted even the caution tape had that faded Sun bleached look that comes with time but I knew what I'd seen the night before those windows had been open I'd seen lights movement that shapen the tower hadn't I I took pictures with

my phone documenting everything when I got home I compared them to Google street view the church looked exactly the same in the street view images boarded up chained condemned the images were dated 6 months ago that night I couldn't sleep again around 3:00 a.m. I got out of bed and opened my laptop I spent hours researching the history of Cedar Grove Street the church anything I could find I found old property records showing the church had been built in 1923 but nothing about when or why it was abandoned the newest Housing Development had started about

2 years ago building around the church like it was working around an obstacle nobody wanted to deal with I did find one thing thing a brief mention in a local newspaper from 1987 a small article about a missing person case a teenage boy had last been seen walking his dog near the church they never found him the article included a quote from his mother describing a phone call she'd received the night he disappeared her son had called frantic saying he'd seen lights in the church Tower the police dismissed it as unrelated for the next week

I avoided Cedar Grove Street I took Max on different routes staying in the well-lit populated parts of the neighborhood but I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd seen the shape in the window the way it had looked at me the impossible speed with which the church had been sealed up yesterday I went back one last time I had to know I wasn't crazy the church looked the same boarded up chained abandoned but as I stood there on the sidewalk something caught my eye a corner of one of the plywood sheets covering a ground floor window

had come loose behind it I could see the glass the window wasn't broken or boarded up on the inside it was just dark as I watched a flash of light came from behind that window quick like a match being struck then another my heart started racing I heard Max's growl In My Memory felt that icy gaze from the tower I turned and walked away quickly at first then running I'm not going back to Cedar Grove Street street but sometimes late at night I think I see flashes of light outside my bedroom window and sometimes when

I work up the courage to look I see a shape darker than the darkness impossibly tall and thin watching me from across the street I've started taking sleeping pills I've bought new curtains thicker ones that no light can penetrate I've even thought about moving because I know now that what I saw that night was real the church the lights the shape in the tow more it was all real and somehow that's worse than thinking I was crazy the old man was right some places it's better not to ask questions about some things once you've seen

them you can't unsee and sometimes when you look into the darkness something in the darkness looks back I keep telling myself I shouldn't have taken that new route home but deep down I know it wouldn't have mattered because now whatever I saw in that Tower knows where I live and every night as I lie in bed staring at my ceiling I wonder if tonight will be the night it decides to do more than just watch last night Max started growling at my bedroom window I didn't look I couldn't look I just pulled the covers over

my head like a child and pretended I couldn't hear the soft tapping on the glass like long thin fingers asking to be let in I'm writing this all down because I need someone to know what happened what's still happening maybe you've seen it too a flash of light in an abandoned building a shape that's darker than Darkness watching you when you think you're alone if you have then you know and if you haven't well maybe it's better that way just do yourself a favor if you're walking at night and you see an old church with

lights in the tower don't stop to look don't try to figure it out just keep walking because once it sees you it doesn't forget and once it knows you're watching it starts watching back the Sun is setting now soon it'll be dark again Max is already pacing by my bedroom door whining softly he knows what's coming we both do tonight like every night since I saw the church I'll close my curtains take my pills and try to sleep and somewhere in the darkness outside something impossibly tall and thin will stand and wait its patience as

endless as the night itself I shouldn't have taken that new route home but it's too late now far too late the camera smashed against my chest when I fell that was my first thought not about my bruised ribs or the 8-ft drop but my $3,000 Cannon hitting my sternum I lay there on the concrete tasting copper in my mouth staring staring up at the jagged hole in the rotting floorboards above the weak beam from my phone flashlight cut through dust clouds kicked up by my fall I hadn't seen the basement access door in the warehouse

floor probably because it had been covered by trash and that ancient wooden step ladder I'd been using to get shots of the wall murals the ladder was now in pieces around me chunks of termite eaten wood scattered across the cold floor my back hurt like hell but nothing felt broken I sat up slowly wincing and checked my camera the LCD screen was cracked but the body seemed intact thank God for professional gr equipment I switched on the camera's built-in flash for extra light and surveyed my surroundings the basement was huge way bigger than I'd expected

for an abandoned warehouse in this part of Detroit my light barely reached the walls but I could make out old shelving units metal drums and what looked like ancient Machinery covered in sheets the air felt thick and stale probably untouched for decades that's when I noticed the doors there were at least six of them that I could see spaced evenly along the walls heavy wooden doors with brass handles like you'd see in an old office building but something was off about them the placement didn't make sense these doors should have opened into the Earth outside

the warehouse Foundation they couldn't go anywhere I got to my feet groaning at the protest from my lower back the floor was solid concrete covered in a layer of undisturbed dust except for the area where I'd landed no Footprints besides my own I walked to the nearest door and tried the handle locked I tried the next one also locked the third door rattled but wouldn't budge I was about to try the fourth when I heard it the unmistakable sound of the warehouse's main entrance slamming shut above me I froze the noise echoed through the empty

building building followed by footsteps heavy boots on creaking floorboards someone else was here I killed my phone light and camera flash immediately the basement plunged into absolute Darkness I pressed myself against the wall trying to control my breathing which suddenly seemed far too loud the footsteps continued overhead slow and deliberate they weren't the random wandering of another Urban Explorer whoever was up there was searching for something or someone my heart pounded against my already bruised chest I hadn't told anyone where I was going today Urban exploration was technically trespassing so I usually worked alone now

that seemed like a massive mistake the footsteps stopped directly above me dust and small debris sprinkled down through the hole I'd fallen through I held my breath a bright beam of light shot down into the basement sweeping back and forth forth I pressed harder against the wall praying the darkness would hide me the light passed within feet of my position hello a deep voice called down anybody down there I stayed silent maybe they'd think the hole was old that no one had fallen through today the light beam continued its search for another 30 seconds then

withdrew the footsteps moved away but I didn't relax they could be trying to trick me into revealing myself I needed to find a way out the hole I'd fallen through was too high to climb back up even if I wasn't worried about whoever was up there there had to be proper basement stairs somewhere I waited 5 more minutes until I was sure the footsteps had moved to a different part of the warehouse then clicked my phone's flashlight back on at its lowest setting keeping close to the wall I began making my way around the basement's

perimeter the beam revealed more locked doors I counted 12 in total now all identical all impossibly placed I couldn't shake the feeling that they were watching me like the brass handles were eyes reflecting my light the basement stretched under the entire Warehouse easily 200 ft on each side I found old filing cabinets broken chairs more shrouded Machinery but no stairs that made no sense how did people access this space when the warehouse was active a scraping sound from above made me Jump Then another someone was moving furniture around on the first floor looking for the

entrance I'd fallen through I kept moving sweeping my light across the walls there had to be a way out my light caught something different a metal door not wooden like the others it was set into the far Corner painted the same gray as the concrete walls my pulse quickened this had to be it I hurried over trying to keep my footsteps silent the handle turned thank God I pulled it open carefully cringing at the slight squeal of rusty hinges Beyond was a narrow Corridor concrete walls stretching Into Darkness the air coming from it was even

colder than the basement I hesitated something about that black tunnel made my skin crawl but the sound of more furniture being dragged across the floor above decided for me I stepped through and eased the door shut behind me the corridor was barely wide enough for my shoulders my light showed it extending straight ahead for about 50 ft before turning left the walls were bare concrete the floor the same material no doors no markings nothing to indicate where this led I moved forward slowly one hand trailing along the wall the temperature dropped with every step my

breath started fogging in front of my face the silence was absolute except for my footsteps and breathing I reached the turn and paused listening nothing I peered around the corner another straight shot maybe 40 ft ending at what looked like an elevator door my heart leaped this must have been how they moved Goods in and out of the basement if the elevator still worked I could get back to the ground floor I started down the corridor faster now halfway to the elevator I heard it a click from behind me I spun around light darting back

the way I'd come the metal door I'd entered through was just visible at the far end of the corridor it was opening I killed my light instantly Footsteps in the corridor slow measured steps like the ones above but these sounded different wrong somehow too heavy too deliberate and they were getting closer I backed away toward the elevator moving as quietly as possible my back hit the metal doors I felt along them frantically finding the call button I pressed it repeatedly not caring about the slight clicking sounds it made nothing happened of course not power had

probably been cut to this building years ago the footsteps reached the corner I could hear breathing now raspy wet breathing that made my skin crawl I pressed myself into the corner beside the elevator trying to make myself as small as possible my own breath was coming in short short gasps that I couldn't control a light appeared at the corner not a flashlight beam more like a pale blue glow it illuminated the walls with weak Rippling patterns like light reflecting off water the footsteps continued forward the breathing got louder I wanted to run every Instinct screamed

at me to move but there was nowhere to go the corridor was too narrow to slip past whatever was coming I had to stay still had to hope the darkness would hide me like it had in the basement the glow got brighter I could see the thing's Shadow now stretching along the wall the shape was all wrong Too Tall too thin the head wasn't right the arms were too long it reached the halfway point of the corridor 20 ft away now the blue light showed more details of the walls than I wanted to see the

concrete wasn't smooth like I'd thought it was covered in scratch marks thousands of Deep groov mes like something with claws had tried to dig through to escape 15 ft the breathing was like a broken Bellows now in and out with wet sucking sounds I could smell something rot and stagnant water and something metallic like old blood 10 ft I saw its feet first they were bare gray white too big and twisted at wrong angles the ankles bent backwards 5 ft I pressed my hands over my mouth to hold in a screen dream I could see

it clearly now in its own light it had to be 9 ft tall hunched over to fit in the corridor the proportions were horrible limbs too long and jointed in extra places torso skeletally thin its head I couldn't look at its head my mind refused to process what I was seeing shapes and angles that shouldn't exist features that squirmed and shifted when I tried to focus on them it stopped 3 ft from me the blue light pulse gently casting my corner in Shadows and then Illuminating it again and again like a heartbeat it knew I

was there it had to but it didn't move we stayed like that for what felt like hours me pressed into my corner shaking uncontrollably hands clamped over my mouth the thing standing there swaying slightly that wet breathing filling the corridor the light pulsing then it spoke the sound was like rocks grinding together like breaking bones like screaming from very far away words in a language that hurt my ears and made my teeth ache I felt something warm trickling from my nose blood the thing took one step closer I could feel its cold radiating against my

skin its head turned toward me with a series of small pops and cracks in the blue light I saw its mouth open and open open and open the jaw distending like a snake's revealing rows of needle-like teeth stretching down its throat I broke I screamed and lunged forward trying to dive past it its arms shot out God they were so long and caught me the hands were huge fingers like ice cold metal cables wrapping around my arms it lifted me effortlessly until my feet dangled a foot off the ground I thrashed and kicked Ked but

it was like fighting a steel statue the thing pulled me closer to its face that horrible mouth was still opening wider and wider the teeth clicked and chittered the smell of rot was overwhelming a gunshot exploded in the confined space the thing's shoulder jerked back sprang black liquid across the wall it dropped me and wheeled around with impossible speed another shot and another muzzle flashes lit up the corridor like lightning I scrambled backward on hands and feet as the thing charged toward the shooter its movements were wrong like watching a film played backwards and forwards

at the same time more shots the thing screamed a sound that made my vision blur and my ears ring someone grabbed my arm I nearly swung at them before recognizing a human hand come on a woman's voice urgent but controlled she pulled me to my feet and shoved me back toward the elevator I heard more shooting behind us then running footsteps the woman caught up to me the elevator get it open my hands were shaking so badly I could barely grip the doors the woman reached past me and wedged her fingers into the gap between

them help me I grabbed one door and pulled while she pushed the other metal screeched against metal the doors slowly parted Beyond them was an elevator car stopped about 4 ft below us jump down the woman ordered I didn't hesitate I dropped into the car landing hard she followed immediately after spinning to fire more shots down the corridor the blue glow was getting brighter again the roof hatch she pointed up with her free hand open it there was an emergency hatch in the elevator ceiling I reached up and pushed it open then jumped to grab

the edges and pull myself up as soon as I was through I turned and reached back down give me your hand the woman fired twice more then grabbed my arm I pulled as she jumped we got her halfway up when something grabbed her legs she screamed but kept her grip on my arms I braced my feet and pulled harder the thing's head Rose into view that Twisted mouth opening impossibly wide the woman kicked it Square in the face with her free foot once twice three times black liquid sprayed from its nose the hands released her

I hauled her the rest of the way up she slammed the Hat shut and shot the lock mechanism sealing it we could hear the thing below that wet breathing and sounds of claws on metal the shaft the woman pointed up maintenance ladder move I saw the Ladder rung set into the shaft wall and started climbing the woman followed we climbed until my arms burned pasted two more elevator doors finally reaching the top of the shaft a ventilation Grill showed dim daylight the woman pulled out a multi- tool and quickly unscrewed the grill we squeezed through

onto the roof of of the warehouse the late afternoon sun was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen keep moving the woman said helping me to my feet fire escape other side don't stop until we're in my car we half ran half stumbled across the roof I heard more of those bone grinding words echoing up the Elevator Shaft behind us the fire escape was old but felt solid enough we clattered down to the alley where a black SUV waited get in the woman unlocked it with her key fob I dove into the passenger seat she

started the engine before her door was even closed and peeled out of the alley we drove in silence for several minutes putting distance between us and the warehouse finally at a red light she turned to me you're bleeding she reached into the console and handed me some tissues your nose I wiped my face hands still shaking what what was that thing who are you agent Sarah Chen FBI she accelerated through the green light and that thing that's classified but you're not the first photographer to find that basement just the first to survive it there are

more more of those things we've contained most of the access points but some slip through like that warehouse she glanced at me I'm going to need your camera I looked down at my Cannon still hanging around my neck the cracked screen showed the last photo I'd taken before falling a half finished shot of graffiti on the warehouse wall but looking closer now I could see something in the corner of the frame a tall thin shape just out of focus and that same pale blue light I handed her the camera what happens now I asked now

you sign some papers and we pretend none of this happened she turned onto the highway and you find a new hobby one that doesn't involve abandoned buildings I nodded staring out the window at the Setting Sun my hands wouldn't stop shaking I could still hear that wet breathing still smell that rotting stench still see that impossible mouth opening wider and wider the doors I said suddenly all those doors in the basement where did they go agent Chen was quiet for a long moment finally she said trust me you don't want to know I believed her

but I knew I'd spend the rest of my life wondering and checking behind every door I opened listening for wet breathing and watching for pale blue light some questions are better left unanswered some doors are better left locked the first drawing showed us standing right where we were in front of the old Crowley house on Milton Street every detail was perfect Dave's ripped jeans Mike's Red Sox cap Tom's leather jacket and my hesitant stance behind them the paper looked decades old but that was impossible we had never been here before I found it stuck to

the front door when we arrived 10 minutes ago Mike laughed it off as someone playing a prank but my stomach turned the house loomed over us its Windows like dead eyes three stories of rotting Victorian architecture that hadn't seen a living soul in 20 years according to the locals come on Jacob don't be such a baby Dave said yanking the drawing off the door and crumpling it some kid probably saw us walking up the street and did a quick sketch in perfect detail in the dark I asked but they were already pushing the door open

the hinges screamed like they were being murdered the beam from Mike's flashlight cut through the darkness dust particles danced in the light the foyer stank of mold and something else something sweet and rotten like meat left too long in the sun our footsteps echoed on the Warped hardwood floors check this out Tom called from the living room his voice bounced off the walls too loud in the dead air another piece of paper was pinned to the wall my hands started shaking before I even got close enough to see it clearly this one showed the four

of us standing exactly where we were now looking at the drawing on the wall the details were perfect again the way Mike held his flashlight The Sweat beating on Tom's forehead Dave's nervous smile okay this is getting weird Mike said his voice cracking slightly maybe someone's watching us I spun around scanning the Shadows the Moonlight filtering through the dirty Windows created strange patterns on the walls nothing moved except the dust we'd stirred up we should go I said but Dave was already heading for the stairs no way this is too cool someone's messing with us

let's find them the stairs protested under our weight each step sent vibrations through the whole structure I kept my hand on the railing feeling the rough wood under my palm splinters catching on my skin the second floor was worse than the first the wallpaper hung in moldy strips revealing the bare bones of the house underneath water damaged had warped the ceiling into grotesque shapes and there at the end of the hall was another drawing this one showed us on the stairs our faces turned up toward where the paper now hung the artist had captured the

fear in my eyes perfectly this is impossible Tom whispered these drawings they're happening in real time a floorboard creaked somewhere behind us we all jumped bumping into each other like scared kids Mike's Flash Light Beam danced wildly across the walls look at the details Dave said moving closer to the drawing the Shadows the Expressions it would take hours to draw something this good but it's showing exactly what just happened my heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat the air felt thicker up here harder to breathe that sweet rot smell was

Stronger too we found two more drawings in the bedrooms each one showed us discovering the previous drawing drawing in the last one I could see the sweat stains spreading under my arms the way my hands shook as I held my phone for light third floor Dave said but his voice had lost its earlier bravado are you crazy I grabbed his arm we need to get out of here don't you want to know who's doing this Mike asked his face was pale in the flashlight beam but curiosity burned in his eyes the third floor was just

one large room probably an old attic space the ceiling sloped down at the edges and the windows were boarded up our footsteps stirred up thick clouds of dust the air was so stagnant it felt like breathing through a wet blanket there was a drawing waiting for us here too bigger than the others it showed us entering this very room but something was different in this one we were running our faces were contorted in Terror and behind us in the shadows a sound like pencil on paper cut through the silence soft rhythmic scratching we turned slowly

our lights sweeping the room in the farthest corner where the ceiling met the floor something moved the scratching got louder Mike's flashlight caught it first a hand pale as milk fingers unnaturally long holding a pencil it was drawing on a piece of paper pinned to the wall the hand belonged to something something that unfolded itself from the Shadows rising up and up its proportion all wrong Tom screamed the sound snapped us out of our Frozen horror we ran the stairs were a blur under our feet I heard crashing behind us like something big moving fast

the scratching sound followed now more like claws on wood we burst out of the front door gasping the clean night air I looked back once through the doorway I could see a fresh piece of paper stuck to the wall even from here I could make out four figures running in Terror my legs gave out on the sidewalk we sat there gulping air unable to speak after a few minutes Dave started laughing that high shaky laugh people get when they're trying not to scream what Mike had to stop catch his breath what the hell was that

thing did you see how tall it was Tom's voice was barely a whisper those fingers I couldn't stop shaking the image of that pale hand drawing was burned into my mind the drawing showed everything that happened everything including us running at the end it knew what we were going to do before we did it Dave said we sat in silence for a while watching the house nothing moved in the windows no lights no sounds No scratching the drawings I said suddenly they're still in there proof you want to go back in Tom stared at me

like I was insane no but tomorrow in daylight we need to show someone Mike shook his head they won't be there you know they won't be there he was right when we came back the next day with two police officers the house was empty no drawings no evidence of our presence not even footprints in the dust the officers were patient but skeptical just another group of kids spooked by the old Crowley house but that night checking my mail I found an envelope with no return address inside was a single sheet of paper the drawing showed

us sitting on the sidewalk catching our breath staring up at the house in Terror every detail was perfect the sweat on our faces the tears in our clothes from running the way Dave's hands shook as he tried to light a cigarette in the bottom corner in handwriting so spidery it was barely legible were the words come back soon I burned the drawing that night in my kitchen sink as the paper curled and blackened I swore I could hear something scratching very faintly like a pencil on paper Dave Mike and Tom all got drawings too we

don't talk about that night anymore but sometimes when we run into each other around town I see them glance over their shoulders checking to see if someone or something is watching ready to capture our every move in perfect terrible detail I drive a different route home now avoiding Milton Street entirely but every night I check my mailbox with shaking hands dreading the arrival of another envelope and sometimes in my dreams I hear it that soft rhythmic scratching drawing scenes from a future I don't want to see the metal door groaned as I forced it open

dust and Decay hit my nose the beam of my flashlight cut through the darkness of Hamilton station revealing peeling paint and debris scattered across the floor I shouldn't have been there the no trespassing signs were clear enough but something about abandoned places always pulled me in and this station had been shut down since 1987 the front hall was exactly what you'd expect broken windows graffiti trash left by other trespassers my footsteps echoed off the tile floor water dripped somewhere in the distance I'd explored dozens of abandoned buildings before but something felt different here the air

was thicker colder I moved past the ticket counter swinging my flashlight across empty shelves and Scattered papers a stack of yellow documents caught my eye I picked up the top sheet it was a passenger manifest dated June 15th 1962 the paper was brittle torn at the edges names and destinations were typed in faded Ink My Hand hand started shaking when I saw it right there halfway down the page Michael Cooper Detroit my name my destination but that was impossible I was born in 1985 I dropped the paper like it had burned me last call for

Detroit the voice was faint distant like someone speaking through layers of static my heart jumped into my throat final boarding for Chicago a another voice female this time echoing from deeper in the station I spun around flashlight beam dancing across empty walls hello is someone there my voice cracked silence answered just the drip of water in my own breathing I was alone had to be alone the place had been abandoned for decades the Manifest still lay at my feet I picked it up again hands trembling the name was still there same spelling same destination I

shuffled through more papers passenger lists from different dates April 1962 March 1965 September 1973 Michael Cooper this time the voice was closer clearer a man's voice formal and professional your train is ready for boarding my chest tightened sweat ran down my back despite the cold I should have run should have dropped everything and gotten out but I kept reading there it was again my name different dates different destinations Cleveland Pittsburgh Chicago always the same name final boarding call for Michael Cooper multiple voices now overlapping getting louder they seemed to come from the platform entrance at

the far end of the hall the beam of my flashlight flickered I smacked it against my palm the light steadied then died completely Darkness pressed in around me footsteps echoed on tile not mine they were coming from multiple directions getting closer the sound of Wheels rolling luggage being dragged conversations in hushed tones sir your ticket please right behind me now close enough to feel breath on my neck I ran slammed into a wall in the Darkness found the hallway kept running my phone was in my pocket I pulled it out fingers fumbling with the screen

the flashlight app kicked on just as something brushed against my arm the hall was empty but I could still hear them dozens of voices now calling out destinations departure times passenger names always including mine I reached the main entrance the door wouldn't budge I threw my shoulder against it again and again the voices were getting closer Shadows moved at the edge of my phone's light sir you'll miss your train a hand touched my shoulder I screamed spun around nobody there but the voices kept coming Michael Cooper please proceed to platform 3 last call for Michael

Cooper your train is waiting sir the temperature dropped I could see my breath now the Shadows were moving closer taking shape forms in old-fashioned clothes carrying suitcases their faces were wrong blurred like photographs left in the rain my phone light flickered and died total darkness the shapes were all around me now I could feel them hear their breathing smell tobacco smoke and old perfume there you are Mr Cooper we've been waiting for you a hand gripped my arm ice cold through my jacket right this way please I jerked away crashed into something solid pain shot

through my hip my hands found metal a radiator mounted to the wall I followed it stumbling in the dark trying to remember the layout there had to be another way out the emergency exit maybe if I could just find it in the dark platform 3 Mr Cooper your usual seat is ready the voices were everywhere now pressing in more hands reaching touching pulling at my clothes each touch was like ice water on my skin I found a door handle yanked it open stale air rushed past the service Corridor it had to be I ran one

hand on the wall the other stretched out in front of me wrong way sir the train is waiting something grabbed my ankle I fell hard chin cracking against the floor copper taste of blood in my mouth the hands were all over me now dozens of them pulling me up turning me around can't keep the others waiting Mr Cooper time to board your seat is ready I fought thrashed but they were too strong the hands dragged me back down the hallway my feet scraped across the floor I could see them clearly now even in the darkness

men and women in clothes from different decades all with those blurred melted faces all smiling they pulled me toward the plat form entrance I could hear it now the rumble of an approaching train the Screech of brakes steam hissing but that was impossible the tracks had been torn up years ago here we are sir right on schedule the platform doors swung open light poured out not electric light but something older yellower the smell of coal smoke and hot metal filled my lungs I saw the train black steel gleaming in the strange light steam billowing from

the stack passengers boarding their faces all wrong their movements Jerky like old film footage your seat is in the third car Mr Cooper same as always the hands pushed me forward I tried to plant my feet but they slid across the smooth floor the train was impossibly real impossibly there through the windows I could see more passengers inside all turned to look at me as I was dragged past all smiling with their ruined faces Welcome Back Sir we've missed you they pushed me toward the open door of the third car the conductor Stood Beside it

uniform perfectly pressed face a smeared photograph he reached for my arm I threw myself backward Breaking Free of the hands ran for the platform exit made it three steps before they caught me again now now Mr Cooper you know the rules when your name is on the list you have to board they Lifted Me Up off my feet the conductor reached out again his hand was gray corpse-like All Aboard I kicked caught him in the chest he staggered Back the Hands loosened for just a moment I twisted free hit the ground running shouts behind me

the Screech of the train whistle impossibly loud I slammed through the platform doors ran blind through the darkness of the Station Final Call for Michael Cooper the voices were angry now footsteps pounding behind me the temperature dropping lower lower I hit something solid the front entrance threw all my weight against it the door burst open I fell through into the night air scraped my Palms on concrete behind me the whistle screamed one last time then silence I lay there gasping for a long time finally found the strength to look back the station was dark silent

no light no steam no impossible train just an abandoned building with broken windows my phone buzzed in my pocket making me jump the screen showed three missed calls from my wife the time was 11:47 p.m. I'd been in there for almost 2 hours I got to my feet legs shaking started walking to my car didn't look back again the passenger manifests were still scattered on the floor inside my name over and over on yellowed papers that had waited decades for me to find them I left them there but sometimes late at night I hear the

whistle and when my phone rings I'm afraid to answer afraid it will be that formal voice telling me my train is ready I check the news every day looking for stories about Hamilton station about other people who went exploring and never came back so far nothing but I know they're still there those passengers with their ruined faces still waiting and I know my name is still on those lists the train will come again the hands will reach and next time I might not be strong enough to run last week I got a letter no return

address inside was a train ticket dated June 15th 1962 the passenger name was Michael Cooper the destination was blank I burned it but I can still feel it in my pocket sometimes cold as a Corpse's hand still hear the conductor voice patient and professional your seat is waiting Mr Cooper it will always be waiting I don't explore abandoned places anymore don't take midnight walks don't even like to be alone in the dark because I know what's out there now no what's been waiting all these years checking names off lists collecting passengers decades after their trains

were scheduled to depart and I know that somewhere in that dead station's ruins a new list is being typed a new schedule being made my name is on it just like always the train is coming maybe not today maybe not tomorrow but it's coming and this time I might not have a choice about boarding I shouldn't have taken that shortcut that's what keeps running through my head as I sit here in my apartment with all the lights on door triple lock trying to make sense of what happened 3 hours ago my hands are still shaking

as I type this I need to get it down while it's fresh maybe someone else will see this and know to stay away from that place I work second shift at the Amazon warehouse on the east side of town usually I take Main Street home but tonight there was construction orange cones flashing lights the whole deal Google Maps suggested a detour through the old Industrial Park I figured why not it would save me 15 minutes the industrial park hadn't seen much action since the recession hit in '08 most of the buildings were empty shells now

broken windows graffiti chainlink fences with no trespassing signs hanging at odd angles the street lights worked sort of every third one was out creating pools of yellow light with long stretches of Darkness between them my phone said to turn left at the old Campbell manufacturing building the giant red brick structure loomed ahead four stories tall with rows of grimy Windows reflecting the few working street lights I slowed down looking for the street sign that's when I heard it footsteps echoing from somewhere inside the building I hit the brakes the sound stopped the engine idled I

rolled down my window and listened nothing but the tick tick tick of my cooling engine must be some homeless people I thought or teenagers looking for a place to drink I should just drive on but then I saw movement through one of the ground floor Windows just a quick Shadow there and gone the footsteps started again louder this time they seemed to be moving in sync with my breathing I turned off the engine the footsteps stopped hello I called out my voice bounced off the brick walls no answer I reached for my phone and turned

on the flashlight the beam cut through the darkness illuminated ating a loading duck with its rollup door half open the footsteps started again matching the sound of my shoes on the asphalt as I walked toward the building I'm not usually the type to investigate strange noises in abandoned buildings I've seen enough horror movies to know better but something about those footsteps drew me forward they weren't threatening they were precise almost mechanical like someone following a preset path the loading dock was about chest height I swept my flashlight beam across it empty bottles fast food wrappers

Dead Leaves normal abandoned building stuff the footsteps grew louder now coming from just inside I hoisted myself up onto the concrete platform the sound of my hands slapping against the surface was instantly echoed by similar sounds from within my shoes scraped on the rough concrete another scraping sound answered from the darkness if someone's in there come out now I said my voice sounded steady but my heart was pounding The Echoes of my words came back strange distorted like they were being played through a broken speaker I ducked under the rollup door the beam of my

flashlight revealed a vast open space the main production floor rows of empty metal tables stretched into the darkness thick electrical cables hung from the ceiling like dead Vines the air smelled of rust and mold my footsteps on the concrete floor rang out sharp and clear The Echoes followed perfectly matched but slightly louder I swung my flashlight left then right nothing moved except dust Moes in the beam I took another step forward the echo came back even louder than before another step another Echo growing in volume the sound bounced off the walls the ceiling the floor

multiplying with each reflection until it was like a dozen people were walking with me I stopped The Echoes continued for several seconds before fading away my breathing seemed unnaturally loud in the silence that followed a rustle of movement came from my left I spun flashlight beam cutting through the darkness for a split second I caught a glimpse of something ducking behind one of the metal tables something roughly human shaped but wrong somehow like a shadow that had peeled itself off the wall who's there I demanded The Echoes of my voice came back distorted almost like

words but not quite the hair on the back of my neck stood up I started walking toward the table where I'd seen the movement my footsteps echoed louder and louder with each step The Echoes seemed to be coming from all directions now surrounding me I could feel the vibrations through the soles of my shoes when I reached the table there was nothing there but the Echoes of my footsteps continued growing even louder they were out of sync now some faster some slower like a crowd of people walking at different speeds I turned in a slow

Circle flashlight beam probing the darkness The Echoes were so loud they hurt my ears they seemed to have a physical presence pressing against my skin like a cold wind movement caught my eye another Shadow shape flitting between tables this one larger than the first I swung my flashlight toward it but it was gone before the beam could catch it more movement to my right to my left behind me every time I turned the shapes vanished just beyond the reach of my light The Echoes were deafening now a thunderous Stampede of footsteps That Shook dust from

the ceiling I backed toward the loading dock the Shadows seemed to be getting Bolder lingering just at the edge of my flashlight beam I could almost make out details limbs that bent at impossible angles faces with too many features my heel hit something solid one of the metal tables I stumbled caught myself The Echoes of my stumble came back wrong the Screech of metal on concrete the sound of something heavy falling a noise that might have been laughter that's when my flashlight flickered just for a second but in that moment of darkness I saw them

clearly dozens of them maybe hundreds filling the space between me and the exit they were made of Shadows and silence negative spaces in the shape of people they moved like stop motion animation jerky and unnatural the flashlight came back on the shapes retreated to the edges of the beam but they didn't Disappear Completely they were watching me I could feel their attention like a physical weight I ran the Echoes of my footsteps became a roar that threatened to burst my eardrums I could see the shapes moving with me keeping Pace just outside my circle of

light my breath came in ragged gasps that echoed back as inhuman shrieks I reached the loading dock and vaulted over it not bothering with the steps I hit the asphalt hard rolled scrambled to my feet The Echoes followed me out of the building growing louder and louder until I thought my head would explode I sprinted to my car fumbling with the keys behind me The Echoes had become a single sustained note like a thousand voices screaming in perfect Unison I got the door open threw myself inside slam it shut the sound cut off instantly the

silence was so sudden it made my ears ring I started the engine and fled the tires squealed as I peeled out of the parking lot in my rearview mirror I saw movement in the windows of the Campbell building hundreds of Shadow shapes pressed against the glass watching me drive away I took the long way home staying on well-lit streets my hands didn't stop shaking until I was safely inside my apartment with the doors locked and every light turned on that was 3 hours ago I've been sitting here since then trying to convince myself that what

I saw wasn't real but I know it was the bruises from my fall are real the dust on my clothes is real and when I play back the voice memo app that was running on my phone the whole time I always record my walks through sketchy areas just in case I can hear the Echoes they get louder and louder as the recording goes on until they completely drown out my own footsteps I've attached the audio file to this post listen to it if you want but I don't recommend it and whatever you do stay away

from the Campbell building those things are still there I can feel them even now listening and waiting for the next person to investigate a strange sound in the darkness some Echoes it turns out Never Fade Away they just keep getting louder I don't take shortcuts anymore I shouldn't have gone to check out that cabin that's what I keep telling myself now 3 months have passed and I still wake up in cold sweats my heart racing when I hear any sound outside my window at night but I need to write this down maybe then someone will

understand what happened at Ceder Lake that weekend it started as a regular fishing trip with my buddies Mike and Steve we'd been planning it for months 3 days at Cedar Lake about 4 hours north of Seattle the lake was pretty remote and that's exactly what we wanted a chance to drink beer catch some fish and get away from our wives and kids for a weekend the first day went exactly as planned we set up our camp about 50 yards from the shore got our gear ready and spent the afternoon catching a decent Hall of trout

as the sun started to set we were sitting around the campfire drinking our thir third or fourth beer when Mike mentioned seeing what looked like an old structure through the trees while he was walking along the shoreline earlier probably just an old fishing cabin Steve said taking another pull from his beer these Lakes are full of them Rich guys built them decades ago and then just abandoned them when they got too old to make the trip anymore I don't know why but something about the way Mike described it caught my interest maybe it was the

beer or maybe I was just bored but I decided I wanted to check it out the next day I woke up early the next morning before Mike and Steve the air was crisp and a light fog hung over the lake I grabbed my flashlight and told the guys I was going to scout around the lake for better fishing spots I followed Mike's directions from the day before walking along the muddy Shoreline after about 20 minutes I saw it through the trees the cabin was small maybe 15 by 20 ft with weathered gray boards and a

sagging roof thick moss covered most of the North facing wall and the small porch had partially collapsed on one side the windows were intact but so dirty I couldn't see inside I stepped onto the porch testing each board before putting my full weight down the wood creaked but held the door was unlocked just an old brass handle that turned with a grinding sound I pushed it open and the hinges screamed like they hadn't moved in years the smell hit me first musty and damp with something else underneath that I couldn't identify something that made my

nose wrinkle the main room was small with a Rustic Kitchen area in one corner and what looked like a living space with an old couch and a potbellied stove in the other dust covered everything in a thick layer but it was the walls that made me stop cold they were covered in photographs dozens of them black and white photos in simple wooden frames I stepped closer my boots crunching on Fallen plaster and that's when I noticed what was wrong with them in every single photo where the people's faces should have been there was just nothing

not blurred or damaged just smooth blank spaces where features should have been like someone had carefully erased every face my hand started to sweat as I moved from photo to photo a family picnic four people Seated on a blanket all faceless a wedding photo bride and groom standing together blank ovals where their faces should be a class photo with rows of children every single one of them without a face I took out my phone to take pictures but the battery was dead that was strange I'd charged it fully the night before the air felt heavy

and the silence pressed against my ears that's when I noticed the marks on the walls long deep gouges in the wooden boards running in sets of four they looked like claw marks but they were too big to be from any animal I knew some of them were 8 in long and cut deep deep into the solid wood they were everywhere on the walls the door frame even scored into the floorboards I heard a board Creak behind me and spun around nothing was there but my heart was hammering in my chest the silence felt different now

watchful waiting I backed toward the door keeping my eyes on the room as I reached for the handle I noticed more claw marks on the inside of the door fresh ones the wood looked pale where it had been recent ly scratched not weathered and gray like the others I got out of there fast letting the door bang shut behind me the fog had gotten thicker while I was inside and I had to work to find my way back to Camp I didn't tell Mike and Steve what I'd found they would have wanted to go look

and I didn't want anyone going near that place again the rest of the day passed normally we fished we drank we bullshitted around the campfire but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched every time I looked toward the trees in the direction of the cabin my skin would break out in Goosebumps as night fell Mike and Steve turned in early I stayed up by the fire telling myself I was just enjoying the peace and quiet but really I was listening waiting around midnight I heard it footsteps heavy ones moving through the underbrush along the

shoreline they were slow and deliberate accompanied by the sound of branches snapping whatever it was it was big I clicked on my flashlight and pointed it toward the sounds but the beam couldn't penetrate more than a few feet into the darkness between the trees the footsteps stopped I heard breathing deep wet breathing like something with fluid in its lungs it was close maybe 30 ft away my light beam shook as my hand trembled a branch cracked directly in front of me and I saw something move in the Darkness something tall I scrambled backward knocking over

my chair the breathing got louder and with it came a smell the same strange odor I'd noticed in the cabin but stronger now rotting meat and stagnant water I backed up until I felt my tent behind me the breathing was closer now and I could hear something else a sound like nails dragging across tree bark my light beam caught movement again and for a split second I saw something that made my blood run cold a hand if you could call it that long pale fingers ending in curved claws that had to be 6 Ines long

it pulled back into the darkness as soon as my light hit it I dove into my tent and zipped it shut my hands shaking so bad I could barely grip the zipper I heard the footsteps moving around the campsite circling the breathing got closer to my tent something scraped against the outside of the fabric and I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming the scratching moved down the side of the tent and I could see the fabric pushing inward as whatever it was ran its claws along it the smell was overwhelming now and

I could hear it sniffing like a dog trying to catch a scent my light beam showed its shadow through the tent wall a huge hunched shape that had to be 8 ft tall I don't know how long I lay there barely breathing listening to it move around outside at some point I must have passed out from sheer Terror when I opened my eyes it was morning Mike was shaking me awake hey you okay you're white as a sheet man I sat up my clothes soaked with sweat the first thing I noticed were the tears in

my tent four parallel slices running down both sides Mike saw them too what the hell was there a bear in Camp last night I looked at the ground around my tent the dirt was churned up with tracks I'd never seen before huge elongated Impressions that looked almost like human footprints but wrong the toes were too long and there were deep puncture marks at the end of each toe where claws had dug into the soil we need to leave now Mike started to argue but something in my voice must have convinced him we packed up camp

in record time as we were loading the truck I looked back toward the lake through a gap in the trees I could see the cabin something was different even from this distance I could see that the door was wide open now and in one of the windows I saw movement just for a second a pale smooth face with no features no eyes no mouth no nose just blank white skin pulled tight over a skull it disappeared as soon as I saw it we broke our speed records getting out of there I haven't been fishing since

I tried to look up information about the cabin or any history of the area when I got home but I found nothing the only thing I did find was a local news article from 1963 about three hikers who disappeared near Cedar Lake they were never found but their camera was when the police developed the film every photo showed the same thing three men posing in various locations around the lake but their faces were completely blank in every shot I've thought about reporting what happened but who would believe me sometimes I think about going back with

a camera that works to get proof but then I remember those claw marks that blank face in the window and that horrible breathing in the dark and I know that some things should stay lost in the woods last week I got a letter in the mail no return address inside was a photograph black and white poorly focused it showed three men sitting around a campfire I recognized the clearing our tents in the background it was our campsite the photo showed Mike Steve and me our faces were completely blank I burned the photo immediately but that

night I heard something outside my house heavy Footsteps in my backyard and that familiar sound of claws scraping against wood I didn't look outside I didn't need to I know it followed me home and I know that sooner or later it's going to come for me just like it came for all the others in those photos because now I understand those weren't photos of its victims they were photos of its collection if you're reading this and you're ever up around Cedar Lake stay away from that cabin and if you hear Footsteps in the dark don't

look don't ever look because once it knows you've seen it it won't stop until your face is as blank as all the others I can hear the scratching at my door now I should have kept driving the sun was setting I was tired and that empty stretch of highway through Nebraska felt endless but I stopped I had to stop when you hear someone screaming for help you stop that's what normal people do right now I can't sleep without pills I wake up sweating my heart pounding even writing this down my hands are shaking but I

need to tell someone what happened on that train it was Tuesday October 3rd I was driving from Chicago to Denver for a job interview my phone showed 6:47 p.m. when I first saw the train the sky was turning orange casting Long Shadows across the corn fields I'd been on the road for 9 hours stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks my back hurt my eyes were tired I'd finished my last Red Bull 2 hours ago the train sat motionless on the tracks that ran parallel to the highway at first I barely noticed it just another

freight train in farm country but something felt wrong no lights no movement just a long line of cargo cars stretching into the distance covered in Rust and graffiti I slowed down my Honda Civic squinting through the passenger window the train looked like it had been sitting there for months maybe years weeds grew around the wheels paint peeled off in Long strips most of the cars were standard shipping containers but near the middle I spotted what looked like an old passenger car that's when I heard it a woman's voice high-pitched and desperate help please somebody help

me I hit the brakes hard my tires squealed on the asphalt the car fishtailed slightly before coming to a stop on the shoulder kicking up gravel and dust my hands gripped the steering wheel The Voice came again is someone there please help the rational part of my brain said to call 911 but out here my phone showed only one bar of service the nearest town was at least 30 m back I grabbed my flashlight from the glove compartment one of those heavy mag lights that could double as a weapon the metal felt cold and reassuring

in my hand I stepped out of the car leaving the engine running and the headlights on the temperature had dropped with the sun wind rustled through the corn making the stalks whisper my shoes crunched on gravel as I approached the tracks up close the train looked even more decrepit rust had eaten through the metal in places leaving ragged holes hello I called out where are you in here the passenger car please hurry the voice came from the old passenger car I'd spotted earlier it sat about 50 yards down the tracks I had to climb over

a coupling between two cargo containers to reach it the passenger car's windows were mostly broken just Jagged shards of glass clinging to rubber seals the door hung open warped on its hinges dark stains rust or something else streak the metal around the door frame I shined my flashlight inside the beam cut through Dusty air Illuminating rows of torn seats papers and debris littered the floor hello I called again my voice echoing I'm here to help where are you no answer my heart pounded against my ribs every instinct told me to turn around get back in

my car and drive away fast but what if someone really needed help what if they were hurt I took a deep breath and stepped inside the floor creaked up under my weight the air smelled wrong like old meat and something metallic my flashlight beam darted from seat to seat catching glimpses of torn Fabric and exposed Springs is anyone here my voice sounded small in the enclosed space a scraping sound came from the back of the car metal on metal I swung my flashlight toward the noise the beam caught something moving just a flash of pale

flesh disappearing behind a seat hey it's okay I said taking another step forward I'm here to help are you hurt more scraping then a low sound not quite a laugh not quite a growl I moved closer step by careful step my shoes crunched on broken glass sweat ran down my back despite the cold the thing rose up from behind the last row of seats my brain couldn't process what I was seeing at first it looked Almost Human the basic shape was there but the proportions were wrong the arms were too long hanging down past where

knees should be the skin was gray and seemed to hang loose in places like ill-fitting clothes its face Jesus its face the mouth opened far too wide revealing Rose of needle sharp teeth where eyes should have been there were just dark weeping holes I stood Frozen unable to move unable to breathe the beam of my flashlight trembled on that horrible face the thing's mouth stretched even wider in What Might Have Been a Smile then it screamed the same woman's voice I'd heard before perfect in every detail help please help me my paralysis broke I turned

and ran I slammed into a seat stumbled caught myself behind me something fast moved in the darkness I heard claws or Nails scraping on metal the door seemed miles away my legs fell felt like lead my lungs burned another scream this time a man's voice wait don't leave me here I reached the door practically falling through it my foot caught on something a tentacle a hand and I went down hard on the gravel beside the tracks the flashlight flew from my grip spinning away into the darkness pain shot through my Palms where they hit the

Rocks I scrambled to my feet and ran I didn't look back the thing in the train car made more sounds different voices now calling out in Terror begging for help then it laughed a wet gurgling sound that no human throat could make my car's headlights cut through the growing Darkness I sprinted toward them like a drowning man swimming for sure something moved in my peripheral vision a pale shape flowing along the side of the train keeping Pace with me I ran faster I reached the car yanked open the door and threw myself inside my Trembling

Hands found the keys in the ignition the engine roared to life I slammed the car into drive and floored the accelerator gravel sprayed from my tires as the car shot forward in my rear viw mirror I caught one last glimpse of the train a figure stood in the passenger car's doorway impossibly tall and thin its arms hanging down like dead things it raised one hand in what might have been a wave then I was around a curve and the train vanished from view I drove for 2 hours without stopping my hands locked on the steering

wheel my heart hammering every shadow by the road looked like reaching arms every sound the car made could have been claws on metal I finally stopped at a truck stop near the Colorado border my legs shook so badly I could barely walk I went into the bathroom and threw up everything in my stomach when I looked in the mirror my face was Ghost white blood trickled from my Palms where the gravel had cut them my jacket was torn at the shoulder I don't remember how that happened I bought coffee and sat in a bright Booth

watching trucks come and go around midnight I used the truck stops Wi-Fi to search for news about missing persons in Nebraska about abandoned trains about creatures that could mimic human voices I found nothing concrete just scattered Forum posts and conspiracy theories a few blurry photos that could have been anything stories from truckers about strange sounds in the night but I did find one thing that made my blood run cold a local news article from 1957 about a passenger train that disappeared somewhere in Nebraska all 47 passengers and crew vanished without a trace the train was

never found I called the police the next morning they took my report politely but didn't seem interested just another TI driver seeing things in the dark they probably thought I gave them the exact location but when they checked they found nothing no train no tracks just empty Fields stretching to the Horizon I made it to Denver eventually got the job moved into a nice apartment with a view of the mountains but I don't drive at night anymore if I can help it and I never take the train sometimes late at night I hear voices calling

for help different voices men men women children they sound so real so desperate but I know better now I know what makes those sounds I wonder how many others have stopped to help how many have walked into that dark train car following voices that seemed so human how many are still there their own voices added to its collection I should have kept driving but I stopped that's what normal people do right when you hear someone screaming for help you stop remember that next time you're driving alone at night remember that not all cries for help

come from people who need saving Sometimes they come from things that want you to stop things that want you to get out of your car things that want you to come inside I was lucky I got away but as I write this my hands still Shake because I know it's still out there somewhere in the darkness waiting in its rusted train car calling out and borrowed voices waiting for someone else to stop and help the lighthouse stood against the gray sky like a bone stuck in wet sand I hadn't planned to go inside when I

first saw it from the beach but sometimes the worst decisions don't feel like decisions at all they feel like curiosity I was in Port Haven for work another small coastal town that had seen better days the kind of place where empty storefronts outnumber the open ones and every third house has a for sale sign that's been there so long the text has started to fade I had 4 hours to kill before my evening meeting and walking along the beach seemed better than sitting in my motel room watching game shows the lighthouse caught my eye right

away unlike the trim White Towers you see on postcards this one was a mess paint peeling off in gray sheets Windows either broken or so dirty they might as well have been painted black a chainlink fence surrounded it but someone had cut a hole big enough to squeeze through probably local kids looking for a place to drink beer and spray paint their names the no trespassing sign was still readable even with the rust I stood there for a few minutes watching the waves hit the Rocks below the lighthouse the tide was going out leaving trails

of seaweed and foam on the wet sand no one else was around just SE gos picking at something dead further down the beach I don't know why I went through that fence maybe because it was there maybe because I was bored maybe because something about that Lighthouse pulled at me in a way I still can't explain the front door wasn't even locked the hinges screamed when I pushed it open and the sound echoed up the tower like someone screaming back the entry room smelled like mold and salt and something else something metallic like old pennies

dust covered everything my footprints showed clear in it as I walked around the circular room there was a desk against one wall drawers hanging open papers scattered across the floor so water damaged the words had bled into gray smudges a few chairs tipped over nothing special but then I saw the notebook it was sitting on a shelf partially hidden behind some old equipment manuals unlike everything else in the room it looked almost new the cover was black leather still glossy no dust on it at all I picked it up the pages were thick and cream

colored filled with neat handwriting and black ink the first entry was dated 6 months ago March 15th another quiet night sea calm no ships expected until morning keeping the light dark as ordered I flipped through more pages same handwriting same basic observations about weather and ship traffic but then I hit an entry from April that made me stop April 3rd saw lights again tonight third time this week called Harbor Master no ship scheduled lights moved in ways no boat could move like they were dancing started up by the Horizon around 2: a.m. then came closer

closer than any sane Captain would bring a ship logged it in the official record but Jackson says I'm seeing things maybe he's right haven't been sleeping well the entries got stranger after that the writer described more lights appearing almost every night sometimes just one or two sometimes dozens always when no ships were supposed to be in the area always moving in impossible ways April 15th they're getting closer I can see shapes in the fog now big shapes ship shapes but wrong somehow like drawings done by someone who'd only heard about ships but never seen one

called the Coast Guard again they say their radar shows nothing how can there be nothing when I can see them right there April 20th the light won't stay off I turn it off like I'm supposed to but it keeps coming back on change the bulb check the wiring nothing wrong I can find but every night around midnight it turns itself on shines right at those things out there like it's calling to them April 25th I hear singing sometimes from the water not like like whales like voices but not in any language I know when I

look out I see them ghost ships that's what they are I know how it sounds but I know what I'm seeing they're transparent sometimes I can see the waves through their hulls their Sails are rotten their lights are wrong green and blue and colors that don't have names God help me I think they're getting closer the last entry was from April 30th they're here right offshore dozens of them the light won't turn off no matter what I do I can see figures on the decks now they're not right they're not human I'm leaving I have

to leave if anyone finds this stay away they're coming for the entry ended mid-sentence a long black ink line trailed off the page like his hand had jerked away my hands were shaking as I put the notebook down the sun had started to set while I was reading orange light slanted through the broken windows making Long Shadows on the floor I needed to get out of there I turned toward the door and froze the lighthouse beam was on I could see it sweeping across the darkening Sky Through the Windows but that was impossible this place

had been abandoned for months there couldn't be any power I ran to the window and looked up the beam swept around again bright enough to leave spots in my vision then I looked down at the water the ocean was black in the growing dark but there were lights out there dozens of them green and blue and colors I couldn't name they moved in ways that made my eyes hurt weaving patterns that shouldn't have been possible and they were getting closer I could see shapes now ship shapes but wrong their proportions were off like they'd been

stretched or squashed their sails hung in tatters moving Against the Wind and they were transparent I could see the waves through their wooden hulls figures moved on their decks they looked human-shaped from this distance but something about their movements was wrong they jerked and swayed like puppets with tangled strings I ran for the door it wouldn't open the handle turned but the door stayed shut like something was holding it from the other side I slammed my shoulder against it nothing a sound came from outside singing but not like any singing I'd ever heard the notes

Twisted in ways that human voices couldn't make it made my teeth hurt and my vision blur the ghost ships were almost ashore now I could see the figures better they were human-shaped but only in the way that a child's drawing of a person is human- shaped their proportions were wrong their movements were wrong their heads weren't the right shape I ran up the spiral staircase taking the steps two at a time maybe there was another way out maybe I could signal for help somehow the singing got louder as I climbed the walls vibrated with it

my nose started bleeding I reached the top of the lighthouse the lamp mechanism filled most of the room spinning slowly sending its beam out into the darkness I tried to turn it off the switch did nothing I tried to unplug it there was no power cord I tried to break the bulb my hand went right through it the ghost ships had reached the shore they passed right through the Rocks like they weren't there the singing was so loud now I could barely think the Figures were leaving their ships they flowed onto the beach like oil

their movements all wrong their faces I could see their faces now I wish I couldn't see their faces they started climbing the lighthouse house not using the stairs inside climbing up the outside wall I could see them through the windows as they came up their hands weren't hands their eyes weren't eyes the singing filled everything now the air rippled with it blood ran from my ears they reached the top the windows exploded inward glass flew everywhere but passed right through them they flowed into the room like smoke I backed away until I hit the lamp

they surrounded me this close I could see that they weren't solid they flickered like bad TV reception switching between shapes that hurt to look at the one in front reached for me with something that wasn't a hand the singing built to a crescendo that made reality crack around the edges I blacked out I woke up on the beach the sun was Rising my phone said it was 6:30 a.m. almost 12 hours since I'd entered the lighthouse the lighthouse stood silent against the morning Sky the windows were intact the door hung open like it always had

no sign of any damage I walked back to my car on shaking legs I had dried blood under my nose and on my collar my ears were still ringing I drove straight out of Port Haven missed my meeting didn't care never went back but sometimes late at night I hear that singing and when I look out my window I see lights in the distance lights that move in ways no light should move they're getting closer I found the notebook in my jacket pocket later I tried to burn it it wouldn't Catch Fire I tried to

tear it up the pages wouldn't tear I tried to throw it away it showed up on my desk the next morning it sits there now waiting sometimes I see new entries appearing in it written in that same neat handwriting they describe lights in the distance lights that are getting closer I know they'll find me eventually the things that aren't ships carrying the things that aren't people I can hear their singing getting louder every night but maybe someone will find this story first maybe it will warn them to stay away from old lighthouses to not read

strange notebooks to run when they see lights moving in ways that lights shouldn't move or maybe you'll do what I did maybe curiosity will pull you in maybe you'll see the lights too they're beautiful in their terrible way beautiful and hungry and they're always getting closer last night I saw them from my window the ships that aren't ships the crew that isn't human they were clearer than ever before I know now why the lighthouse Keeper's last entry ended so abruptly I know what he saw in those final moments I hear singing now the walls are

vibrating with it my nose is bleeding again they're here don't look for me don't try to find out what happened just remember if you see lights moving strangely in the distance run run as fast and as far as you can but I don't think it will help they're patient they have all the time in the world and they're always always getting closer the buzzing started in my ears before I saw anything wrong a high-pitched wine that made my teeth ache like the sound of power tools but distant and warped I was 2 miles into the

mil Brook Trail when I first heard it and I should have turned back right then should have trusted that animal Instinct telling me something wasn't right but I didn't I kept walking and that's how I found the workshop I'd hiked this Trail dozens of times but never noticed the building before it sat in a small clearing about 50 yards off the main path half hidden behind a screen of pine trees the exterior was weathered gray wood the roof sagging in the middle like a broken spine a rusted metal sign hung crooked above the door its

text too faded to read my boots crunched through Dead Leaves as I approached the buzzing grew louder with each step transforming into a grinding sound that seemed to come from inside the building I told myself it was probably just some local kids messing around with old equipment or maybe a squatter who found a way to power up the tools the explanations felt Hollow even as I thought them the door hung partially open warped wood scraping against the frame I pushed it wider wincing at the Screech of rusted hinges the smell hit me first metal and

oil and something else underneath something thick and organic that made my nose wrinkle dust Moes swirled in the weak light filtering through grimy Windows the workshop was bigger than it looked from outside maybe 30 ft Square workbenches lined the walls their surfaces cluttered with tools in various states of Decay Rusty saws hammers with rotting handles pliers seized shut with corrosion a table saw dominated the center of the room its blade dulled by Decades of neglect dark stains spread across the wooden floor in irregular patterns they looked old soaked deep into the grain of the wood

I took a few few steps inside my footsteps echoing in the musty air the grinding sound had stopped leaving behind a silence that felt heavy and expectant a thin layer of dust covered everything undisturbed except for some strange marks that looked almost like tool tracks as if someone had been dragging the equipment across the surfaces the first movement caught me by surprise a screwdriver on one of the benches twitched then slowly began to rotate in place I Rose convinced I was seeing things but then a hammer lifted slightly Off the Bench and started sliding forward

leaving a clean Trail in the dust all around the room tools began to move a saw blade spun with a high wine pliers opened and closed their jaws with mechanical clicks chisels dragged themselves across the workbench carving shallow grooves in the wood each tool moved with purpose as if Guided by invisible hands performing tasks I couldn't comprehend my heart hammered against my ribs I backed toward the door eyes darting between the moving implements this wasn't possible tools didn't move on their own there had to be strings magnets something creating this illusion but I could see

no mechanism no explanation for the impossible scene before me a large wrench Rose from the bench nearest the door rotating to point its jaws at me like the head of a snake the grinding sound returned louder now seeming to come from everywhere at once more tools began to lift into the air screwdrivers hammers chisels all hovering at chest height and oriented toward Where I Stood I bolted for the door something whistled past my ear a screwdriver embedding itself in the door frame with a solid thunk I didn't stop to look back just ran Full Tilt

across the clearing toward the main trail behind me I heard the Screech of metal on metal and the heavy thud of tools hitting the ground my lungs burned as I sprinted down the trail branches whipping against my face I ran until I couldn't hear anything but my own ragged breathing and pounding footsteps when I finally slowed to a walk my legs trembling from exertion I was less than half a mile from the trail head I should have left it alone should have reported it to the park rangers or local police and let them investigate but

the questions noded at me what had I really seen was there a rational explanation I'd missed in my P panic I needed to know that's why I went back the next day this time prepared I brought a camera to document everything a powerful flashlight and a metal detector to search for hidden electrical systems or magnetic devices that might explain the movement I also brought my friend Mike both for backup and to verify I wasn't losing my mind we reached the spot where I'd turned off the main trail but something was wrong the Gap in the

trees wasn't there anymore we searched for over an hour an hour working in expanding circles from where I was certain the clearing had been we found nothing no building no clearing not even a foundation or ruins to suggest anything had ever been built there Mike was sympathetic but skeptical he suggested maybe I'd gotten turned around confused about the location or perhaps I'd been more dehydrated than I'd realized leading to a vivid hallucination I knew he was trying to help but I also knew what I'd seen I been back to that trail several times since then

always searching sometimes at night I dream about the workshop in the dreams I stay longer watch the tools move with their precise purposeful motions they're building something in those dreams something I can never quite see I wake up with the taste of metal in my mouth and the certainty that the workshop is still out there waiting to be found again but that's not the end of the story 3 months after my encounter I was hiking a different Trail about 10 mil from milbrook when I heard it again that distinctive buzzing grinding sound that made my

teeth ache this time it came from deeper in the woods far off any marked path I stood there for a long time listening to that sound and dealing with the war inside my head every rational thought told me to walk away but I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been given a second chance to solve the mystery this time I'd be smarter about it this time I discover the truth I checked my phone full battery good signal I opened my location sharing app and sent my position to three friends with a message if you don't

hear from me in two hours call Rangers following strange sound in woods then I stepped off the trail the undergrowth was thick here requiring careful navigation between thorny bushes and Fallen trees the sound grew stronger as I pushed forward accompanied Now by rhythmic thumping and the Screech of metal on metal after about 15 minutes of tough hiking I spotted it another Workshop similar in size and designed to the first but somehow even more decrepit this one's roof had partially collapsed leaving a jagged hole that led in streams of sunlight the walls leaned at precarious angles

Defying Gravity the door lay flat on the ground torn from its hinges by time or violence I approached more cautiously this time staying low and moving slowly The Sounds continued steadily clicking grinding scraping at the doorway I crouched behind the Fallen door and peered inside the layout was different from the first Workshop but the Essential Elements were the same workbenches tool racks heavy machinery covered in Rust and movement constant purposeful movement a circular saw blade spun in place suspended 3 ft above a bench hammers Rose and fell in perfect Rhythm pounding invisible nails in one

corner a large drill press operated on its own it's Chuck spinning and descending at regular intervals the air smelled of oil and rust and that same organic undertone I remembered from before I pulled out my phone and started recording the video was dark and shaky but it clearly showed the tools moving independently I slowly panned across the room documenting everything when I reached the Far corner I saw something that made me nearly dropped the phone a figure stood there or something like a figure it was roughly human-shaped but composed entirely of tools wrenches and hammers

formed crude limbs saw blades created a serrated spine and pliers snapped open and closed where a head should be the thing moved with jerky mechanical motions manipulating other tools with appendages made of screwdrivers and chisels my hands shook as I zoomed in on the figure through the phone's screen I watched it disassemble itself tools clattered to the ground one by one until nothing remained but a pile of inert metal the other tools continued their work ignoring both the dissolution of their companion and my presence the floor creaked under my feet instantly every tool in the

room stopped moving the silence hit like a physical Force slowly inevitably the tools began to turn toward me I kept recording as dozens of sharp Rusty implements oriented themselves in my direction the first Hammer launched itself at my head I ducked and it smashed into the door frame behind me sending splinters flying my phone kept recording as I scrambled backward capturing the swarm of tools that Rose into the air and began their attack a chisel sliced through my jacket sleeve drawing blood a wrench caught me in the ribs driving the air from my lungs I

stumbled and fell dropping the phone but somehow maintaining my grip onon ious the tools formed a whirling cloud above me glinting dully in the sunlight streaming through the broken roof what happened next is still hard to describe the tools stopped their assault and began to combine linking together like some kind of deranged Erector Set within seconds they had formed another humanoid figure larger than the first it loomed over me joints made of pliers creaking as it moved the thing reached down with a hand made of interlocked screwdrivers I rolled away and scrambled to my feet

snatching my phone from the ground as I ran behind me I heard the crash of the tool figure pursuing its movements accompanied by the Screech of metal on metal I ran blindly through the woods branches tearing at my face the sound of mechanical Pursuit grew fainter but I didn't slow down until I burst out onto the main trail startling a couple of hikers they looked at me with concern bleeding covered in dirt gasping for breath I babbled some something about falling down a Hillside and hurried past them my phone was still clutched in my hand

recording with trembling fingers I stopped the video and played it back the screen showed only static 2 hours of recording reduced to digital snow but the physical evidence remained the cut on my arm the bruise spreading across my ribs the tears in my jacket and I had something else something I didn't notice until I got home and emptied my pockets somehow a single SC screwdriver had made its way into my jacket it's old the handle made of wood rather than plastic the metal pitted with rust sometimes late at night I swear I can feel it

trying to move on its own I haven't been back to those Trails but I've been researching digging through local history and property records I found references to other workshops all following the same pattern appearing in disappearing always containing tools that move on their own some reports date back over for 100 years the screwdriver sits on my desk as I write this a constant reminder that I'm not crazy that what I experienced was real sometimes I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to find it in a slightly different position than where

I left it each time the urge to return to the woods grows stronger I know the workshop is out there waiting maybe this time I'll stay longer maybe this time I'll learn what the tools are trying to build May maybe this time I'll understand why they chose to let me live when so many others according to my research were never seen again after encountering similar buildings in other forests but for now I watch the screwdriver and wonder about the workshops hidden in the woods I wonder about the dark stains on those Workshop floors and the

organic smell beneath the rust and oil most of all I wonder if the tools are building something bigger than any of us can imagine one workshop at a time deep in the Forgotten corner corners of the forest the screwdriver just moved again I think it's trying to tell me something maybe it's time to go back for for for for for for for for for for for for for for e for for for for