I’ve lived in the same house my whole life. It’s a nice little ranch style house with just enough room for the family and pets. We’re a small family of four and I’m the youngest. My parents aren’t very strict. They let my brother and I stay out late and play with the other kids in our nice and safe neighborhood. There was only one thing I never understood.
Ever since I could even form memories my parents always told me something weird. They would say every night before bed “if you wake up past 1:37 am, go back to sleep. Ignore the cracking, and close your eyes. Don’t leave your room, and NEVER crack your knuckles. We will know if you do.” It was the only rule in the house that I could never forget and never break, but as I got older I just thought it was some dumb thing they told me to make me stop fidgeting at night. I had bad sleep apnea as a kid and never really got good sleep even as I got older. I have a lot of anxiety and paranoia.
Anyways I’m 17 now and I honestly never really think about it anymore. I used to be curious as a kid but my parents would get weird about it and just tell me to not do it, it’s all they’ve ever begged me not to do. It’s never been a big deal for me so I never made a big fuss about it. There have been a few occasions where I couldn’t sleep and I started fidgeting and accidentally pop a knuckle. Just one. But every time that happened I’d hear a strange noise. Like some weird cracking noise in the hallways. It’d scare me so bad as a kid, but as I got older I chalked it up to the house being old and worn down. I’ve never been so wrong in my life.
I feel so stupid. I’m 17, I practically never leave my room. So not leaving it past 1:37 was never an issue. I had just finished an essay for my class, my hands were sore and tired I wasn’t even thinking anything of it. God I wish I could go back. As soon as I cracked my knuckles I realized what time it was.
2:04.
I immediately felt a small jolt of electricity course through my body. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I got settled in my bed next to my cat and turned on Community, trying to settle the anxious thoughts racing through my mind. In the background I kept hearing weird cracking. I thought it might be the speaker on my old tv, so I listened carefully. It wasn’t coming from the speakers though. It was coming from the hallway. I paused the show to listen, and as I did I realized my cat was looking at my door with her ears down like she was about to start growling and hissing. But she didn’t make a noise. She just looked. The cracking got louder and I could hear that it was moving.
I checked my phone to text or call someone but it wouldn’t turn on. I turned off everything, and grabbed my laptop to see if that would work. It did but there was no service. I couldn’t text anyone. That’s when I realized the cracks had stopped. It was silent. No crickets. Nothing.
Suddenly there was the loudest crash I’ve ever heard in my parent’s room. It sounded like something was tearing the walls apart. My cat bounded out of my bed and ran away. I think she’s hiding in my room somewhere. She’s smarter than me. If I had ran at that moment maybe I wouldn’t be stuck in the bathtub writing this as that thing bangs on the door. But I was frozen. Staring at my locked door as a cold sweat dripped down my back. After what felt like 3 hours of loud cracking and things being thrown there was silence. I waited for what felt like forever. But there was nothing. I slowly got out of my bed and headed toward my door. I never thought I’d desperately beg for a window to suddenly appear in my room, but I found myself doing just that in the moment.
As I got to my bedroom door I slowly reached out to the knob. As my clammy hands touched the cold metal doorknob I shuddered at the thought of what could be out there. I shook the thoughts from my head and slowly turned the knob, pulling lightly, making sure the door wouldn’t creak. When it was open just enough for me to slither my way through I paused and looked at the pitch black hallway. My eyes weren’t very used to the dark yet, so fear enveloped my whole body thinking whatever is out there is likely watching me at that very moment. A metallic taste crept into my mouth and hit the back of my tongue as I held my breath. I had to move before it was too late. It already was too late, I just didn’t know it yet.
I slinked out into the hallway, finally allowing myself to exhale. I tried to look around, but it was no good. It was like looking into a void. As I passed my parent’s room I glanced in fear, wondering what horrors I’d see. I’m so glad they visited my grandparents today because as I squinted I saw the state of what used to be their room. The bed was quite literally torn apart. The stuffing was everywhere. Shattered glass glistened across the scratched surface of the hardwood floors. Deep scratches covered the beautiful sky blue walls. I could barely recognize the room. I swallowed the scream I felt creeping up my throat as I thought about what it would’ve been like if my parents were there. That’s when I saw it.
Under the bed. My eyes finally got adjusted to the complete lack of light and part of me wish they hadn’t. My paranoid thoughts couldn’t have even conjured up the absolutely horrific image. If god even exists even he would run from that treacherous thing. At first I thought it was a man hiding under the bed because he saw me in the hallway and didn’t want to be caught stealing. But oh my god. His fucking limbs. They were bent in every direction but the right fucking way. My held back vomit as I watched in utter horror. He was grinning so wide it wasn’t even physically possible. He- or it had blood dripping on the floor from the bones that protruded from different parts of him. How was he smiling? Fuck how was he even alive??
I watched, frozen as he slowly crawled out from under the bed, bones cracking as he bent in ways I didn’t know were fucking possible. I winced looking at the sharp white bone pop out of under his lifeless skin. I let out a small, short squeak as the fucker started doing only what I can describe as a demented crawl-run at me before I started sprinting myself.
I ran to the closest room. The bathroom. The only other room without a fucking window. In my horror I chose to do the dumbest shit. I slammed the door shut and locked it, then ran to the toilet to vomit. I shivered in fear as that thing started banging on the door. I don’t know what to do. Im writing this in the bathtub. At least I was smart enough to bring my laptop. I finally got connection to the internet, but it’s really slow. I texted everyone I know but it’s so late that nobody’s responding. I don’t know what that thing is. And I don’t know what to do if it breaks down the door. What’s worse is it’s not even saying anything. It’s just groaning outside the door. If the door doesn’t break I’m staying here until my parents get home. If anything happens I just hope my cat will be okay.