I noticed it about 6 months ago; I was getting ready for bed one night and as I glanced over to my window I saw something imprinted on the wall right next to it. It was hard to see, barely illuminated by the reflections of the bright moon outside the window. It was the shape of a human hand, pressed into the wall like clay. It wasn’t there before, I would’ve noticed it at some point. Writing this down now I feel stupid for this but I ignored it and went to bed; I guess I just thought I must have done it in my sleep. But then it continued happening.
A few weeks later more hand prints started appearing, they all had the same reflective and I hate to say ghostly appearance. One day I would wake up and there would be a new handprint next to my door, the next day there’d be one by the kitchen cupboards. I paid attention to them now and I tested them. I placed my hands on them and they fit like a glove, these were my handprints, nothing to worry about. So again I labelled it as me sleepwalking and pushed the thought aside.
A month or so later there was another hand print, and a worse one at that, placed right on the handle to leave my apartment. It was considerably deeper than any of the other prints I’d seen and much more eye-catching. It seemed to have rusted the metal handle into the shape of a tightly clenched fist. I’m not a rust scientist or anything but I don’t think a normal hand does that to metal. So I got some help.
I called my friend over just so someone else could confirm what I was seeing. They couldn’t see it, and understandably thought I was going crazy. They couldn’t see any of the hands and no one else could either. I took photos and again, I could see them but no one else could. I’ve never seen things before, I’ve never had hallucinations and I knew I wasn’t crazy. These prints didn’t just look different they felt different, I felt the rust, I felt the slick reflective texture of the prints on my walls. So I bought some cameras and put them everywhere.
Every night from then on I would turn on the camera before I went to sleep, just so I could catch whoever was doing this to me. And every morning I’d check the footage and more prints would appear, but no one was making them, just handprints appearing out of nowhere. It wasn’t me sleepwalking, it wasn’t some stranger breaking into my flat and climbing on my walls. It was nothing, nothing was making these. I was going insane. They were getting deeper and harsher and I was afraid, I didn’t know what to do.
Then one night I was walking home and looked into my window. This time it wasn’t a handprint, it was a face. My face, and it was pushing against the glass trying to get out. I didn’t go back into my apartment that day, I couldn’t muster up the courage. Instead, I went home to live with my parents.
I spent a month with my parents and it all stopped, no more handprints, no more ghostly faces of myself. I could finally breathe. But it wasn’t that simple. When I’d look back at the footage and the photos, they were all still there. Taunting me. After a while I had to go back, I was paying rent on an apartment I wasn’t using and I was leeching off of my parents. So regardless of the creepy images of myself appearing in my window, I went back.
The second I opened my door I knew it was a mistake to return. The smell hit me first, the smell of rotten meat and burning hit me like a truck. An awful smell that almost made me vomit the second I stepped into my apartment. I did my best attempt at gathering myself and looked for where the burning was coming from. I looked and looked and there was nothing. It was always nothing, which at this point was worse than something. Until I felt a sickening crunch under my foot.
I looked down and the carpet below me was darker and crunchier than the rest and it was growing. It was getting larger and darker, and that foul stench was getting stronger to the point where my eyes started watering. It finally stopped growing and the shape it was now in made me freeze in fear. It was the shape of a body, my body, seared into the floor. I stared for I don’t know how long until I was ripped out of my paralysed state by the sound of screams.
From all around me I heard screams, the screams multiplied and grew louder, accompanied by warmth, smoke, and a different burning smell. The building was on fire. I looked to my door, the fire was coming from right behind it so I went to my window. I tried to open it but it was stuck, I pushed off the adjacent wall to get more leverage but it still wouldn’t budge, brute force wasn’t an option. I rushed for the door and went to put my hand on the handle to open it but then I saw it. The imprint of my clenched fist rusted into the handle and everything clicked. I needed to get out of here, or else I’d burn to a crisp.
My mind racked with ideas and came up empty. Until I looked down and saw the imprint of my burned body. I don’t know whether the adrenaline made this possible or what but I picked up my heavy brick of a TV and threw it as hard as I could at the floor and it collapsed as I came crashing down into my neighbour’s living room. I scanned the room for an exit and it turned out the neighbour had already climbed out of his window so I followed in his footsteps. I got out of his apartment with only a few scrapes and cuts from the fall, and also a broken ankle from jumping out of a window. At least it’s better than burning to death.