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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Snowglyphs on 2024-11-17 21:55:26+00:00.

I live in a reasonably safe suburban neighborhood in Connecticut, though I won’t disclose what town or area in particular. I get along well with all of my neighbors and it’s almost like the people on our street are part of one big family, as cliché as that may sound.

I’m currently by myself in what I’m sure most people would consider a nice house. Two stories, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a nicely furnished kitchen downstairs, a garage, you get the deal. I’ve done well for myself as a financial analyst, but I just haven’t had the time to find anybody else to share my success with. I guess most people would consider me lonely.

The only family I have (or, had, I suppose), my father, passed recently and I’m still trying to figure out how to grieve on my own. I’m seeing a therapist, and my current mental state hasn’t really been improving as much as I’d hoped for.

Anyways, my personal life isn’t what I came to this subreddit to write about.

The other night I was sitting at the couch and finalizing details for my dad’s funeral. This couch faces away from the entrance to the house. Sleep was starting to overtake me when I heard a sort of clicking noise behind me, coming from the door, so I got up and looked out the peephole to see who was there. I always keep my doors locked. I guess I just have a habit of keeping people out.

Anyways, I couldn’t see anybody at the front step, so I shrugged and returned to the sofa to keep doing paperwork. Right after, I checked the time, and it was eleven thirty at night. Around a half hour later, just when I was starting to fall asleep again, there was another click from the doorknob. I sighed and got up, checked the peephole, and saw nobody, yet again.

I turned around, yawned, rubbed my eyes, and as that happened, there was a third click behind me. Muttering a curse under my breath, I grabbed a baseball bat that I keep in a closet just down the hall. I’d say that took me about five seconds, tops, and when I pushed the door open, nobody was there.

Directly across the street, from behind her kitchen window, I saw old Mrs. Smith hold her hand up to wave at me. When her eyes glanced over the bat in my hands, her eyes widened slightly and she raised an eyebrow. I made an irritated shrugging motion and went back inside.

This went on for about a week before I got really pissed and called the police and explained to them that somebody was trying to open the door to my house at night. They told me, and I quote, “okay, what do you want us to do about it?” I (politely, I should add) suggested that, maybe, they should send a cop to watch my home for the night and catch whatever hoodlum is playing this prank.

The person I talked to pretty much laughed and said that wasn’t a possibility since they need every patrolman on duty for actual harmful crimes going on in other parts of the city. I’d figured they’d say something like that, but knowing the police couldn’t help until this person actually made a move on me seemed to make the situation feel more real, if that makes sense.

Last week was when things got worse. So much worse. At this point I’d gotten seriously tired of trying to do anything in the living room downstairs when whoever was outside kept trying to open my front door and get inside, so the entirety of my afternoons were now spent upstairs in my room, watching television or reading or, most of the time, looking out the window that looks directly over my porch.

I never see anything. When I would walk downstairs to get some food, there’d never be a sound from the door. So, I’d thought whoever was doing this must have gotten bored of their stupid game when I stopped going outside to figure out where they were.

Then, last week, while laying down on my bed and finishing a finance report, I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard a slow tap, tap, tap on my (thankfully locked) bedroom door, as if somebody was drumming on it with their fingernail. I grabbed my phone and dialed 911, and while I was on the phone with the dispatcher, whoever was outside the door continued to make that slow, rhythmic tapping noise.

The police arrived around twenty minutes later, and the tapping noise persisted the whole time I was waiting on the phone. I was sitting in my closet when I heard, in this order, a car pull up outside my house, a car door open and close, the tapping stop, and a knock on the door. The dispatcher confirmed that I was okay with them knocking down the door and I said it was fine.

Long story short, they found nobody in the house, no sign of a break-in, no sign that somebody had even been around the place except for me. The next day I had a meeting with my therapist, and he suggested the idea that I may be suffering from auditory hallucinations, which seems unlikely to me since my family doesn’t have a history of mental instability or anything like that as far as I’m aware.

Every night now, that tapping happens at my bedroom door. I called 911 the next two times and essentially the same thing as the first night happened. The police showed up. No sign of anybody except me even coming within fifteen feet of the house. I can’t sleep anymore. When I put my head down to the pillow I can hear footsteps downstairs, even while the tapping is happening at my door.

One time, I tried yelling as loud as I could for “whoever is in here to get the fuck out before I get my gun!” I don’t actually have a firearm. Laws in Connecticut regarding stuff like that are very strict and, though it sounds very dumb, I’d never thought something like this would happen to me. Anyways, after I yelled that one time, whatever was out there stopped tapping abruptly and then, almost smugly, continued its racket slightly louder and faster.

The sounds used to be slow, almost methodical, just loud enough to hear, and they’d always stop in the morning. Now, it’s constant, fast, loud, tapping and clicks and heavy footsteps downstairs, for hours at a time, morning or night. Even when the noise is gone, I’m still afraid to walk around in my house. What if it’s in the walls, or under the floor or some other crazy shit?

I ordered one of those Ring doorbells and put it on my bedroom door, about a month ago from the time of writing this post. Then I sat on my bed and watched the pitch-black hallway on the other side of the door through the Ring app on my phone. At around twelve, I heard the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. The doorbell camera didn’t show anything, but there was a hissing sound outside my bedroom that filled the whole house, like the biggest snake in the world was crammed into the upstairs hall. It was almost as if the walls themself were making the sound.

And then it changed from a hiss to a snarl, and whatever was outside was throwing itself into the door and shaking it on its frame. I shrieked in terror and dialed 911 for a fourth time, and the dispatcher gave no indication that she could hear the cacophony of banging and wild, desperate roars outside my room.

This time, it took about forty minutes for the cops to arrive, and just like the last few times, once they pulled up in their patrol car the noises ceased immediately. The police didn’t seem happy. The door was undamaged. Again, no sign that anybody (after this encounter I was pretty damn sure it was a “thing,” and not a “one”) or anything had been in or around the house.

Now they’ve slapped me with a court summons. It’s supposed to be tomorrow. I’ve been fired from my job because I’m too afraid to leave the house and I’ve used up all my PTO, sick leave, etcetera. There’s no food either for the same reason, so I’ve pretty much been starving for the last week and a half. Luckily, I pay for my internet yearly rather than monthly and I have enough money saved up to pay for the utility bills and house payments, at least for now.

What am I supposed to do here? The police want to throw me in jail or at least fine me for wasting their time, and I don’t have a job anymore. The neighbors think I’m crazy and none of them will testify on my behalf.