It starts off innocently enough with a knock on the wall precisely at that very moment where the conscious mind is about to tip over into the unconscious world of dreams. The dull thud on the wall somewhere in the century old house startles you somewhat but not enough to make you leap out of bed. You strain your ears for a moment to listen for another knock or something else that could have made the sound, such as a mouse scurrying behind the wall but all is silent. There is no one else to ask if they heard the same thing because you are alone, in the dark, on the second floor of the bedroom with the two windows that face the street. The only light that keeps the room from being shrouded in complete darkness is the street light on the opposite corner across from the house. It has only been a week since you moved into your new place so you justify that what you are hearing is due to the fact that you are still being acclimated to all of the new noises that come with moving into a new home. However much you may believe this, you still can’t forget that eerie feeling you had when you came to see the house for the first time with the landlord a few weeks prior.
As he walked you through the house, something immediately came over you as if a cold damp blanket had been draped over your spirit and the house felt close, like the feeling you get when the clouds are low and the air so moist that your lungs feel heavy with too much condensation. Despite the large windows in the living room and dining room, which provided an adequate amount of sunlight that afternoon, you remember how the rooms still felt gloomy. Perhaps it was the dark greenish blue carpet that covered the floors in the main living area that left you with such a bleak impression. Your feet felt like they were walking across an old bony graveyard where the grass is always cut much to short. Going up the stairs to the second floor, you distinctly remember the ominous looking shadow being cast on the wall of the stairwell as though it were being thrown by someone standing in the living room with their back to the window. It was only you and the landlord, there was no one else there but something was watching you and you could feel its presence as its cold stare followed you up the stairs.
On the second floor, the ceilings were slanted in each of the the rooms and the length of the slope of the ceiling in the master bedroom made it look like a small chapel with it’s two double hung windows peering out into the pasty blue sky. It didn’t occur to you then but at night the room would transform into something quite different. The ceiling would slope just inches above the headboard of where the bed would be, making it feel similar to the mere inches from the inside lid of a coffin to the tip of the nose of the occupant buried inside of it. No, you didn’t think of that then. But it was the rope tied to the inside door handle on one end and knotted around the head of a nail tacked into the outside wall on the other end, that brought back memories of a similar old brass door handle from many years ago. It was this type of brass door handle that locked you into a room once before. It spun around and around and would not unlatch the door no matter which way you turned it. There was someone there that time to let you out but up here in that room alone, there would be no one to let you out. You subconsciously knew the reason why that door was being held open by a rope.
The last item you were shown on your tour was the trap door in the kitchen that led down to the cellar below. The landlord wanted to show you where the furnace was in the event that something ever went wrong with the heating. A gentle cool draft blew across your face as he opened the trap door and gingerly made his way down the steep steps to the dirt floor below. You followed him only out of politeness and watched from the bottom step as he proceeded to walk over to the furnace, hunched over to avoid hitting his head on a floor joist. You smiled and thanked him and knew that if you ever did end up renting the house, there was no way you were ever going down there alone because you were certain the trap door would slam shut just you as you reached the bottom step.
Despite all of the odd feelings you experienced during your visit to the house that day, you did end up renting the house because you were desperate and the rent was reasonable for a house of this size.
The days and weeks go by and as fall turns into winter, you begin to get used to the nuances of the old house. Some of the strange sounds it makes during the middle of the night no longer wake you up. Even the dull knock that you hear on the wall from time to time doesn’t rattle you as much anymore. It’s the two or three knocks in a row on the wall that are the ones that rattle you now. Every time you hear them, it always makes you wonder if someone is just knocking on the back door outside but you know in your heart of hearts that it isn’t and that the dread that fills your paralyzed mind every time it happens, always confirms that it is what you think it is. Your mysterious reality is filled with other anomalies such as the lights that randomly flicker and dim at night while you are relaxing on the living room couch or the lamp you leave switched on while you are away for the evening, is switched off when you return home. While these may just be some strange coincidences, what is not so easily passed off as a mere coincidence is the cutlery drawer in the kitchen cabinet opening and closing under its own force while you are upstairs lying in bed getting ready to turn in for the night. It is this heart pounding moment that leaves you utterly spooked, far beyond everything else you have experienced so far and you know, without question, that there is something living with you. You have suspected it all along.
Who then is the unwelcome stranger in the creepy old house? It surely can’t be you but there is nobody else.
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