A few years ago my wife and I moved into our dream house. We went to the absolute limit of our budget to get it, and have had to cut back on vacations and such until I start earning more at work, but it is the perfect house for us - an office for me to work from home, a huge yard for her to create her dream garden. A nice room for our young son and a spare room upstairs. A three-car garage for us to store all my crap, and plenty of room to expand if and when we want to. It’s at the end of a quiet, dead-end street, so no through traffic, but we love our neighbors.
A few months ago, while we were away for a few days, a pipe burst in the bathroom next to my office. It soaked fully through the wall and completely saturated the carpet. The restoration process was long and fighting with insurance was a pain, but last month, my office was finally restored and I could get back to work.
While the contractors were at it, we decided to have some additional work done. The office shares a wall with the garage, and I thought it would be nice to have a door there so that I could move freely into a workshop I’ve started setting up.
It was great, and I really enjoyed being able to step directly out to my 3d printer, laser cutter, work bench and so on.
Then, about a week after the restoration was finished, there came a few knocks at the door.
It was while I was working and our son was at preschool, so I assumed my wife wanted to come in through the garage, or maybe ask me a question while she was gardening. I was in the middle of an email, so I said “one minute” and finished writing before opening the door.
By the time I did, there was no one there. I meant to ask my wife what she wanted when I saw her later, but I’m pretty forgetful about things like that, so it didn’t come up.
A few days later, it happened again - three sharp knocks, exactly the same cadence as the first time. I had forgotten about the previous incident until then.
Again, there was no one there. I stepped into the garage and looked around. Nothing but a chill.
I thought of a few rational explanations. I had been listening to a Let’s Play video; maybe the knocking was actually from that. Or perhaps it was the neighbor hammering something and it just sounded closer than it was. It was a little weird, but I wasn’t alarmed, yet.
The next night, after I put our son to bed, I was gaming with some friends in the office, and it happened again. It was just a few seconds before I could step away and open the door.
It was dark, but the exterior door that led from the garage to the side yard was open, swinging slightly from what I thought was wind. But when it came to a stop all the way open, it fell still. I stepped into the door frame and looked around, and didn’t feel any breeze. Just the cold, still November air.
I had a moment of genuine fear, but then I felt incredibly stupid when I realized: my wife was screwing with me. We enjoy horror, and occasionally will try to scare each other. Remember that one story about the guy’s wife who wouldn’t stop smiling at him? I shared that with her back then, and for a while we pranked each other by hiding in weird places with big smiles. It was a good gag, but it had been a while since either of us had done something like this.
I went out to find her in the living room, pretending to watch Great British Bake Off or something but really just doom scrolling, and said: “nice one, you really had me there.” She played dumb, exactly as I expected, but I was confident I’d figured it out.
I decided the next time she did it, I would jump right up to catch her before she could get away.
Sure enough, around midday that Friday, I was finishing up my work for the week when it came again, louder this time. I leapt up, but I’d forgotten that I had it bolted, and kind of slammed face-first into it. Despite being dazed, I unlocked it and swung it back, but by then she had gotten away again. I looked out the office window expecting to see her racing around the side of the house to the back door, but to my surprise, she was kneeling in the fenced-in garden 50 yards away, halfway through digging a hole for an apple tree.
At that moment, a part of me just thought “wow, I didn’t know she was that fast.” But another part was doubting again. I don’t know if anyone is that fast, but… maybe I was dazed longer than I thought?
At this point, I decided to just leave the door open while I was in the room. And that worked - there was no more knocking for a week. I closed the door at night when I locked up the house for bed, and opened it when I went to work in the morning. I stopped thinking about it; it just became part of the routine.
That changed last night around 1:00 am.
I woke up suddenly, but wasn’t sure why until a minute later, when I heard it.. So loud I could hear it upstairs in bed. It sounded angry now, or maybe frantic. I laid there in disbelief for what felt like an hour, but probably only a few minutes.
BANG. I shook my wife awake and asked her to listen, but then, naturally, it stopped. Nothing for ten minutes, and she rolled over and went back to sleep. Eventually I drifted off too, but was woken back up again an hour or so later. BANG
I mustered up every ounce of “to hell with this” energy I could. I grabbed my pocket folding knife from my nightstand, just wanting something in my hand to give me some courage, and went downstairs.
I paused in the doorway of the office. BANG
I slowly crept up to the door, leaving the light off. Somehow I thought if whoever was there didn’t know I was coming, it couldn’t run away before I opened it.
I reached the door. BANG
I slowly put one hand on the deadbolt, and one on the handle, ready to turn them both, and waited.
BANG
I turned the bolt and knob and FLUNG the door back. It should have hit whatever was banging on it. I held the knife up in front of me, certain that my cheap 4” blade would scare off… whatever it was.
But it was only darkness. In my memory now, it was darker than normal nighttime darkness. It was windowless-room darkness. Bottom-of-the-ocean darkness. Thick, heavy. Stifling.
I locked it back up and returned to bed, but didn’t sleep.
I’ve been calling the contractors all morning, but I can’t reach them. I’m not sure what I would expect from them anyway.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s happening or how to make it stop. I don’t know who to even go to for help.
I just want to keep my family safe. And while nothing has happened yet… something tells me it’s only a matter of time.