Inside my boyfriend’s house, there’s an indistinct, unpleasant, constant laughing originating from upstairs inside the attic. Whenever I was visiting his house, over that weekend, apparently we were the only people inside the house. That’s what we believed, until the laughter started. After playing online multiplayer video games together, sitting with each other in the basement on his gaming console, we decided on making lunch because it was already after one o’clock and I started feeling extremely hungry because I had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning.
His house is average sized for the neighborhood it was in, there’s three levels, basement, ground floor, the top floor and then the attic, which is directly above his bedroom and only accessed through his bedroom. He always complains about people needing to go into his bedroom to access the attic therefore people seldom use the attic.
The basement is primarily used for his gaming consoles, the ground floor the living room, powder room(ground floor bathroom), kitchen, closets and office room and the top floor is full of bedrooms. There isn’t anything in particular that sets his house apart from any other household in terms of visuality or functionality within the suburbs of Canada.
There’s a lot of open space inside of his house for sound to travel throughout the house because there aren’t doors between the living room, kitchen and family room, nor are there any barriers between the open space of the bottom floor to the hallway upstairs plus the walls are extremely thin therefore sound travels around his house easily. You could converse with someone across the house without yelling as long as you’re on the same floor there’s so much open space, even converse with people through walls easily, especially with sound echoing tremendously easily inside his house.
The only space within the household where sound didn’t get around easily was the basement because there were noise absorbing pads on the walls, mainly near the speakers connected to the gaming consoles. There was no carpet whatsoever, increasing the reverberation causing massive amounts of echoing whenever something loudly produces noise.
During lunchtime I started hearing an unusual, indistinct noise from up above. I was initially unsure about what the noise was, so I decided to ignore it, thinking whatever it was, was something to do with the pipes or something, until my boyfriend, Michael, looked at me apprehensively because Michael noticed the unusual noise also. Michael never scares, whatsoever, so seeing him visibly terrified was evidently extremely frightening. I put two and two together quickly and realized that the sound from upstairs was not normal, stopped chewing so I could listen and realized it couldn’t have been coming from the house. He inquired, “Joseph, do you hear that also?”, responding wordlessly, I nodded in reassurance I also was hearing the same particular sound from above us.
My vocal cords weren’t cooperating and refused to make any sound whatsoever, I wanted to express how frightened I am by his clear panicking, but I simply couldn’t, whatsoever, no matter how much I tried to produce sound or language. The fact that he was visibly frightened was an odd thing to see, but unsettling, I started thinking he was pranking me, but it also seemed his fear was genuine so I wasn’t completely sure.
We headed towards the staircase, got to the top floor almost silently, leaving the half eaten food behind. My heartrate rocketed, my heartbeat pounded inside my head, I heard each distinct beat, every heartbeat extremely clear, it was laughter coming from upstairs, but nobody else was home. Then, on top of the staircase, the top floor I could hear the laughter clearly and it was unsettling, malevolent, maniacal, muffled but unambiguous, obvious. It was coming from above originating in the attic, above his bedroom.
Michael vigorously shaking, extremely frightened by this novel revelation, couldn’t do anything. His fear was rubbing off onto me increasingly, the fact that someone that never shows the slightest bit of fear now is clearly terrified, I knew then, it couldn’t be anywhere near good whatsoever. We didn’t understand what was happening, who was up there in the attic, how’d they’d get up there, how we didn’t notice until now.
We weren’t alone like we originally thought and planned on being, both terrified of the unknown. We simply stared at each other extremely horrified by this supposid intruder, so many thoughts flashed between Michael’s eyes until he put on a metaphorical mask of bravery and went to the attic to investigate whatever was happening. He wanted, correction, *needed* to investigate this equally intensely as a dog’s, despite his obvious foreboding about this terrifying situation.
He climbed into the attic carrying a flashlight usually stored inside his nightstand, ontop french language literature, his favorite being Les Miserables. I crawled behind Michael into the attic, curious about whoever had gotten inside the attic, despite how terrifying this situation was. I felt the panic radiating from him, even when he was pretending not to be frightened from this maniacal, deranged laughing, loudest from the attic, showing the laughter was coming from inside of the attic.
The attic is cramped, small enough to see from the other side of the attic, even on the longest side, the attic so short we had to crouch to even fit, barely any boxes were there, mainly boxes filled with memorial objects like photographs and heirlooms, too important to get rid of but not important enough to be put in the main portion of the house.
He directed me to watch the exit outside the attic, he searched the whole attic, not finding anyone. My back tired, I sat, but still exceptionally alert from the adrenaline rush flowing throughout my bloodstream. After he double checked before we swapped places, he sat by the exit/entrance of the attic. When I was crawling around the attic searching where the laughing was originating from, the laughter wasn’t getting any louder or softer, implying the laughing was coming from the whole attic, not one specific spot from the attic.
I was confused but also increasingly terrified. We were becoming more aware of how much we didn’t know the more we figured out more facts about the crazed laughter of the attic. Cobwebs laid in the corners, near the east facing window. By the time I crawled over there, I realized how little light was being admitted into the attic. I turned around, Michael struggling to turn on the flashlight, looking out of the window I saw the moon, the stars, darkness shrouding the east side of the neighborhood.
We hastily crawled out, the laughter never ending, only growing increasingly loudly, malevolent, threatening. When we got out, it sounded even mocking by our short lasting confusion. It sounded genuine, like how we were frightened, amused whatever or whoever was laughing. I sat down, and realized, it wasn’t who was laughing, it was what was laughing, the attic must’ve been laughing somehow.
Michael’s immediate reaction was to look for his parent’s cars inside the garage, only realizing the garage is vacant. I found salt, white candles and a lighter. I made a ring of salt around the ladder going to the attic, lit the candles on the ladder, next to the ladder, made a pentagram made of salt, candles at each tip of the star outside the circle. *“Praesidium, di nos tueantur, quaeso”.* (god protect us please). Fine beer, pepper, vanilla beans and honey from my bag in front of the ladder, as offerings to Heimall, the norse god of protection.
Michael watched me as if I was crazy, but telling the way this was a supernatural entity making the attic laugh, witchcraft would’ve been the best form of protection. After giving me a look like I’m crazy, but not saying anything because he had no other form of protection against this, he informed me about the vacancy of the garage.
“My parents aren’t home. The cars aren’t there, I tried texting and calling my parents and they calls and texts couldn’t go through to their phones. They haven’t texted or called me since before they left. They would’ve been home from work, they would’ve texted me if they stayed at work for extra hours and would’ve informed me about going somewhere if they got home. I don’t know where they are”. He recalled to me, phone in hand, visibly shaking vigorously.
I’ve known him for years, since we’ve been in preschool, basically our whole entire lives up until then. I don’t even think he’s felt scared, ever, he’s always been interested in the horror genre, so his fear added to my already existing horror.
When I looked at my phone, the same percentage it was when I arrived, 73%, I had no texts, or calls from my parents whatsoever, which was extremely outside my parent’s behavior, we didn’t agree to me being in his house until night. I tried texting my parents to at least reach them, none of my texts went through, which was weird, since I had all 3 bars of wifi and at least one of my parents had access to wifi, they’re always searching for wifi and always made sure that they had access to data if they couldn’t find free wifi. They’re hypervigilant about keeping tabs on me and my siblings, enough where safe, but not too much where it’s toxic, where it’s not helicopter parenting, where it’s not harmful to us.
I decided to grab Michael’s arm and run, when I realized that the protection was broken when I was trying to contact my parents, I would’ve heard him and saw him mess around with my supernatural protection. He was borderline paralized by fear at this point, I had the opposite reaction, my fear made me hyperactive, protective, so I ran outside, tripping over myself. I ran home, adrenaline pumping into my bloodstream allowing me to push myself past my body’s limit. On the road, no cars passed us, all the cars vacant, some running but parked, others moving slowly, others out of gasoline. Pets were gone, bugs appropriate for night in summer, disappeared. All the animal life disappeared, other than my own and my boyfriend’s, or that’s how it felt whilst running home.
I prayed, prayed the whole way home that my mom, dad, little brothers and pets were still alive, despite knowing they probably weren’t there, no other animal life was there, not even the corpses, just gone. Tears pouring out of our eyes, dread, distress, horror, panic built inside my chest, I sprinted the rest of the way home. When I got inside through the window, panting, as expected no one was there, not even my dog. My chest burned, my legs ached, feat forming calluses because I didn’t even think about putting on shoes.
But, a quiet indistinct chuckling was coming from upstairs, from the attic. Michael stood there, frozen, tears falling down his face, we couldn’t escape this thing, this monster, torturing us. It was faster than us, knew how to mess with witchcraft without being seen, but we knew, it wasn’t stronger, we would’ve been injured long ago. We knew we weren’t alone in the dark, in the middle of the night, where it seemed we really weren’t alone, we didn’t know what this thing was, or how to protect ourselves from this thing, but we had a sliver of hope because it didn’t hurt us physically, and hopefully never hurting us physically.
We sat down, on the couch in the living room, calming down, catching our breaths, my chest burning, not overwhelmingly terrified anymore, most of the “terrified energy” for lack of better words used from the run. But we were still on edge, allert, adrenaline keeping us alert, even despite the run, despite being up so long. We looked at eachother, it looked like Michael had a clever plan against this creature, how to get out of this situation. We finally figured out how this thing works, and thought it was benign, until we heard tiles creaking behind the couch, a door squeaking open, footsteps. Knives scratching against the walls in such a large quantity it sounded like long, sharp, metallic fingernails. We jumped, startled, looking back, wide eyed, I felt Michael’s heartbeat in his hand, I then realized we were squeezing each other’s hands for comfort, him trembling.
The thing started back its stare creepy and scary, was short and skinny, yet wasn’t scrawny or weak looking, skin was peeling off from its body, the skin on the face sagging down, smile cut into its face from ear to ear from the corners of the mouth, still bleeding, laughing, skin pal and an unnatural orange color, holes where the skin ripped from the strain from sagging so far down for so long, the intact skin around the tears were irritated. The muscle, visible through the holes, some parts, is stringy and barely holding onto the skeleton. The malevolent laughter surrounded us, it didn’t sound like it came from it, but behind us, above, next to us, every possible direction, every possible source.
The next thing I knew, I was unconscious, blackness surrounding me and silence. I slowly woke up, I heard beeping to the side of me, I was cold. When I was fully conscious, I opened my eyes, I was in the hospital, the clock next to me saying 1:30 PM, the calendar on the wall indicating that it was the same day and year that I was visiting my boyfriend. It was impossible, all that had happened within thirty minutes, experiencing all that plus an ambulance trip, it seemed to me, it took two hours. The laughter still echoed inside my head, unable to stop thinking about what that thing was, where Michael was, if he was safe or not, if he even survived in the first place. My mother was sobbing, on a chair next to my hospital bed, my little brothers staring at me, confused, scared and curious about what was wrong, about what was happening.
My mother, clearly concerned about me, asked if I was alright, I said I was okay, despite processing what just happened. I asked why I was inside the hospital, and the doctors explained to me how I was found unconscious and unable to be woken up in the middle of the family room. This was the first time my brothers were in a hospital, well outside the first week they were alive. The doctors asked me what happened, when I was describing what had happened, the doctors looked at eachother, with a serious expression, they looked like they knew something about this I had no idea about.
It seemed like they were thinking the same thing as each other, like their minds were melting for a moment. They tried explaining how it was a mix of delusions and hallucinations, how I passed from fear because of these delusions and hallucinations. I didn’t fully understand what they were saying since Iwas still barely conscious, and shaken up by these set of events.
They ran more tests on me, seeing how I was fine after the next 2 days, how I didn’t have another episode of the delusions and hallucinations they discharged me, letting me get home, getting me therapy. Only, when I tried reaching Michael, he didn’t exist, when I looked at the yearbook, where he would’ve been the kid to the right of where his picture was, was in his place.
When I saw my therapist for the first time, she seemed normal, a bit boring, but maybe her rules for this job restricted her from being entertaining to being boring. My therapist was a bit boring to me honestly, but I didn’t care, as long as I was “getting better” by my parent’s standards. My first appointment with my therapist was as I expected, boring, my therapist somehow both formal and informal somehow at the same time. After my first session I attempted to see Michael in his house after my parents went to work again. I memorized the way to his house from my own, so I was able to bicycle to his house with ease, but whenever I went to his house, it was vacant, not even his parents were there in his house.
When I got into the house, everything was how it was before the monster showed itself, even the food we left on the table to discover the laughing was there. The same indistinct, weird noise was audible from the kitchen when I got into the kitchen, knowing what was going to be happening if I stayed, I tried leaving through the front door, it was locked, but from the outside so I couldn’t get out, I tried leaving through the back door, the same.
I tried using a window to escape, the window slamming closed whenever I opened it, when I tried smashing the window to escape, it shattered but immediately came back together. Knowing I was stuck, and how going into the attic triggered the previously explained events, I went into the basement, the farthest point from the attic I could physically get to.
When I decided to snoop around Michael’s gaming consoles, there was still evidence of his existence, his online accounts existing, having his face on them, having his online persona on them.
After living in the vacant house, seemingly for days, I lived off the food still inside the refrigerator and freezer. The sun never set, never rose, my phone always showed the same date and time. Whenever I tried setting a stopwatch, I sat there, watching it for 2 minutes, 3:45, July 3rd, 5 minutes on the stopwatch, 3:45, july 3rd, ten minutes, 3:45 July third.
The clock’s second hands ticked as expected. The dates on all the devices around his house never changed dates. Time flowed inside the house, but not outside, objects accessing the outside world, including the electrical devices never changed dates or times, but the clocks only accessed the time inside the house ticked. Devices such as computers are fine tuned by machines in buildings, separate from the house, that’s why devices in the same timezone show the same time.
I decided to do what I knew was inevitable, go up into the attic, facing this thing, it’s what let us escape the house the first time I was up there. These past few nights, I’ve slept in his bedroom, listening to the laughter whilst falling into a light sleep. I climbed into the attic and sat, listening to the laughter, this time, appearing calm. I was frightened, knowing the horrors of whatever malevolent, all powerful being I was dealing against, I tried my best to keep my heartrate down, my body threatening me to hyperventilate, I fought against hyperventilating.
I escaped the attic, scared it was going to jump out at me, and kill me. The laughter became louder, angry and maniacal. Not letting the constant laughter terrify me into running out of his house, I stayed inside of the house, in the bedroom, waiting for it to come out, like the last time we went into the attic. I heard it crawling out of the attic, its loud labored breathing,the ladder scratching where the knives of fingernails it has.
The laughing stopped, the thing spoke, its voice was deep, loud and raspy, it slurred each syllable as if human language was foreign to it, like it was some sort of entity beyond earth itself. Taunting me, it walked around me, its fingernails scraping the floor, far too fast for me to catch it, for me to stop it, for me to reach the door out of the bedroom let alone out of the house. It moved at inhuman speeds.
I managed to distract it for long enough to attempt to escape through the window in the attic. I know, it sounds stupid, the windows couldn’t break or open and the doors wouldn’t open either. But honestly, it sounded genius in my fear stricken mind, it seemed to be a portal to other dimensions. The first time I jumped dimensions, I looked outside that specific window. Only it worked, against the odds, against my expectations. When I pulled it open, there was a crawl space, and I crawled, and I crawled and I crawled. It didn’t seem as if I was going anywhere whatsoever.
I could see the end, so close to me, I could see my room, so close to me. The crawl space was cramped, dark, cold and musty. After a while to crawl a good amount, I managed to turn around. When I did, his house was an equal distance away. When I tried calling the police, for help, the call didn’t go through. When I finally made it to my house, I was sweaty and panting. Partially from fear, partially from crawling rapidly. Crawling rapidly to my house, needing away from my biggest fear.
Only when I got there, I was unrecognized. Nobody knew who I was, not even my dog. My dog is naturally clingy and always needs my attention. She would’ve recognized me. This is my last chance at some sort of semblance of life. Please, help me. I don’t know what I should do. The horrors are overwhelming and I’m alone. I don’t know what will happen next, where that creature is, what it is. The more I learn the more terrified I am. I feel that it’s watching, and I’m terrified.