For weeks now, I’ve heard something outside my house at night. Talking to neighbors, they’ve heard things too. It started as shuffling and scraping sounds, but soon turned into tapping and banging and now whimpers and moaning.
I first noticed it about 3 weeks ago, I was having a smoke in my garage at maybe 11 o’clock at night. I heard what sounded like someone stomping around on the leaves. Shortly before I heard the noises, my gut instinct flaired up. I felt like I was going into fight or flight, the hairs on the nape of my neck standing up. I wanted to investigate but I didn’t want to be that white girl in a cheesy horror movie so I decided to end my smoke and go inside. I couldn’t hear it from inside the house, so I wrote it off as an overactive imagination. I’m a big horror fan. I didnt hear anything for a few days.
When I heard it again, this time it wouldve been about midnight, again out for a smoke in my garage. It sounds like someone was walking on my back deck in heavy boots towards the side of the garage and then it turned into what I would describe as dragging feet. It seemed to be making it’s way to the front of the garage, I got up and threw the dead bolt. I also checked to make sure the back door to the garage was locked. After I threw the deadbolt, it went silent. I couldn’t hear anything, not the cows from the pasture down the road, no wind rustling of the tree right outside, nothing. There’s normally a lot of ambient nature sounds here, as you’d find in super small towns. On really quiet nights, you can even hear the river water from my house, it’s about half a mile down the road.
But I couldn’t hear anything after I threw the bolt. My instinct flared up again and I hustled into the house, absolutely terrified. Both of my roommates were still passed out on the couch when I came inside. I didn’t want to be dramatic or get Boone worked up, so I let them sleep. Grif is very level headed and probably wouldve rationalized it and helped me see reason, but Boone is very high strung and superstitious. He wouldve gotten worked up and scared and I didn’t want to do that to him.
As before, it was a few days before I heard anything again, but this time, it was worse. It started relatively the same as before, with the sound of someone dragging their feet on the back deck, around the side of the garage and to the front. I got up and checked the locks, starting to get worked up. But I heard whatever it was stop in front of the front door. I was starring at it, only standing a few steps away. And then the tapping started. It sounded like someone was tapping on the window on the side of the garage. Which would be about 15 feet from where I heard the dragging sound stop.
I looked at the window, but it was dark. Normally I can see the neighbors outside light through that window, but it seemed like something was blocking out the entire window. I rushed inside, that night I was home alone. This house has a weird amount of entrances, 4 doors leading outside in total. The garage is attached if that helps clear any confusion.
Once I made sure all entrances were locked, including windows, I tried to go to bed. I couldn’t fall asleep until my roommates got home, I heard them come in, laughing and not sounding worried, so I assumed everything was fine then. I like to go on walks, and I’ve become friendly with some of the neighbors that sit outside, talking to them occasionally. The day after the tapping, I went on a walk and saw one of my neighbors outside, I went up and talked to her. After some small talk, I brought up what was going on. She said she’s been having a similar experience, with it sounding like someone’s pacing her yard at night. She thought maybe it was large wildlife, a couple years ago, they found a cougar in the next town over. I asked her if she’s heard any tapping and she hasn’t.
Per the pattern, it was a few days before I heard it again. This time, I was in the dining room at about 3 in the morning I’d say. The dining room contains the formal front door, which leads to a large porch. The house was very quiet, both of the boys were asleep in their rooms, so no TV or other man made noise. I was reading a book, trying to relax enough to fall asleep, when I heard it.
It sounded like someone was stomping around on our front porch. It set off my instinct, again, but I didn’t connect it to the pattern since it was different. I moved the curtain slightly to try to get a peek outside, only noticing I couldn’t see anything. As if my outdoor light, my neighbors outdoor lights, and the street light were all out. I should’ve been able to see, as you can tell, there’s an abundance of light source in my little neighborhood. It must’ve been one moment between me moving the curtain and the banging starting.
It was on the front door. Like hard banging, like the way police knock but nonstop. They were banging so hard, it was shaking the door in it’s frame. It was enough to wake Boone, whose room is right off the dining room. He came out disheveled and confused. I didn’t want to look, as that would mean opening the door. It doesn’t have a window or a peep hole. I was scared, and I must’ve looked it because Boone asked me what was up. I couldn’t find the nerve to speak. He went for the door and as soon as he touched the handle, thats when the windows started.
It sounded like someone was open hand slapping on the windows, hard. I leaned on the wall for support, I was so scared it felt like my knees would give out. I could feel the vibrations from the banging on the wall. Boone was frozen, terrified like me. We didn’t know what to do. We just starred at each other for what felt like hours, but when the banging stopped, I saw the clock. It would’ve only been 3 minutes. We both slept in the living room that night. It felt safe because it doesn’t have any exterior entrances, the only room on the downstairs that doesn’t.
In the morning, we informed grif, but he rationalized something that wasn’t rationalizable. He tried to say it could’ve been the wind or a raccoon. A raccoon was banging on windows 5 feet off the ground while simultaneously was banging like the police on the door? I told Boone the rest of what I had heard and I was right, he did get worked up about it. But I didn’t laugh at him this time, as I was terrified too.
And just like usual, it was a few days before we heard anything again. I’d yet to talk to any of the neighbors about it when this happened. Then shots were fired. Somebody fired a gun off in McConnell, and plenty of people freaked out. We’re a small town, with under 200 people. Everyone knows everyone. Nobody knew or could figure out what was going on. Phone trees were activated with anybody who had somebody else number asking around trying to figure out who shot off the gun and why. But no one knew anything. Police were called and they patrolled the town, asking questions.
Boone was home alone that night. He said that roughly 30 minutes after the gun fire, he heard the kitchen door being banged on and the handle jiggling. He thought the gun man was trying to get in, so he hid. He was terrified. He hid in the crawl space in the basement, it’s the best place to hide in this house. Unless you know it’s there, you’ll never find it. He tried to reach out to anybody, but the service sucks in the basement. The wifi doesn’t reach that part of the basement and cellular service is spotty at best in town, nonexistent in our basement. He caught some luck and was able to send one text out, I was the only one out of the many he tried to call to receive anything until he came back upstairs. All I got was a ‘Break in. Don’t come home. Send help plz’.
And of course because in all actuality, I am that white girl in a bad horror movie, I rushed home. I tried and tried to call him, not realizing where he was hiding but the calls wouldn’t go through. I blew up his phone, his grandma’s phone(she lives right across the street) and his mom’s phone(she lives in town) to no avail. I got home and paused in my car for a moment, debating if I should go in. I have some survival instinct I guess.
When after 5 minutes of thinking, and no one responded to me, I decided to go in. I grabbed the bat I keep in my car and snuck in quietly through the garage door. To be undetectable to a potential burglar, I used the access from the garage to the basement and decide to patrol my house staring from the bottom. Both entrances to the basement are sort of hidden in a way.
The stairs in the garage are behind a half wall with tool boxes piled up againstt it, from the front, it blends into the wall behind it and you can’t really tell that’s it there, you only see the stairs if you enter from the back door in the garage. I checked the lock on the back door, still bolted shut. I went to the basement and crept along in the dark, able to avoid the junk because I know where it’s at. I was sneaking past the crawl space, barely lit up by the light coming in through the small window in that room, when I heard my name whispered.
I jumped and swung wildly around me. It was just Boone. He poked his head out of the crawl space and let me know it was him when I stopped swinging. He asked me if I called the police. Of course I didn’t because, well it’s me. We then both tried to call, but neither of our phones would put us through. We debated what to do for a bit, when we heard banging coming from upstairs. It still sounded like it was outside. I crept towards the stairs that led up into our pantry and Boone followed closely behind me. Basically using me as a shield, the little shit.
When we got to the top of the stairs, we could hear the door knob rattling, like someone was trying to turn it while it was locked. I peaked out of the pantry and could see it was coming from the door in the kitchen. I asked Boone, in a whisper, if he could get any service yet. He answered in affirmative, and I motioned to follow me. We went to the living room where he called the police and reported a potential break in. They showed up and investigated the house, seeing if anyone made it in.
This is where it gets weird. The kitchen door wasn’t locked. There were dirty hand prints on the outside of the door, where they would’ve been banging. And we heard the door knob, and I saw the door knob jiggling, but there were no prints or marks on the exterior knob. We use that door, there should have been something. It looked like it was wiped clean. It made absolutely zero sense and I still can’t wrap my mind around it.
A few days after that, I was expecting the banging. But that didn’t happen. It was different now. I was having a smoke in my garage, and I heard shuffling. The feet dragging sound. But there was also the quiet whimpering. I’d compare it to how I heard my mom crying at night when she thought we were asleep, that soul crushing cry but youre trying to suppress it. I felt devastated when I heard it, like I was the one making that sound. It was contagious. It made it was starting from the back to the side of the garage, but instead of moving to the front line before, it sounded like whatever it was was moving away from my house. The further it went away, the lighter I felt.
Once I was done being sad, fear gripped my heart again and I rushed inside. This time, like a child, I hid under my bed with a kitchen knife. I was exhausted at work the next day, the lack of sleep due to these things was finally catching up to me. And people have been commenting on how tired I look.
Then last night, it happened again. I was in the garage, again smoking, when I heard the shuffling of feet. I tried to keep calm, knowing what to expect now. I’ve been trying to figure out what this is, but I’m not getting anything. The crying started in tune to the shuffling. It worked it’s way from the back to the side of the garage and it sounded like whatever it was collapsed onto the leaves outside the window and started to heavily cry. It sounded like painful moaning and whimpering.
I couldn’t see anything out of the window again. No lights. I couldn’t hear anything other than the moaning. I felt that devastated feeling again. Like pure depression had a hold on me. It just seemed to get louder and louder and then it suddenly stopped. I have no idea what this is.
I’ve entertained the idea of it being a ghost, as I’ve got a graveyard practically in my backyard. But that wouldn’t explain my neighbor experiencing too. Boone thinks its a ghost or something too, but that answer just feels wrong. Im wondering if the shooting and my occurrences are related, but how? And what was up with that door knob?