The Sound Upstairs

A few years ago I got married. My entire family and a couple close friends flew across the country to be here, filling my new city with a collection of my favorite people. My wife (fiancée, at the time) and I lived downtown, and most of our guests rented Airbnbs in the city as well. We spent the week preparing for the big day, and any free moments walking the ten-block circuit from our apartment to the houses and apartments they had rented. It was an amazing week, truly unforgettable, and mostly I savor those memories. All except one, which I would pay anything to forget.My family rented a large apartment just a few blocks away from ours. It was a converted basement, beneath ground level, that had a separate entrance and exit around back. I picked them up from the airport at around ten p.m. and drove them there, so we all saw it for the first time together. There was a basket of goodies on the table, items local to the area, some sweets, some craft beers, a bottle of wine, I think. A little handwritten note wishing them an enjoyable stay. There were two rooms, one for my parents, one for my sisters, across the apartment from each other. Between was a bathroom with a clawfoot tub and a small living area with couch and tv.We noticed an empty nook in the room where the girls were going to stay; it had a small door that reached about three feet above the ground. Of course I opened it, hoping to creep them out, but ended up creeping myself out as well. It led to what must have been a crawlspace: it was dark, filled with cobwebs, and very narrow. We moved a chair in front of it after closing the door.My wife’s family was set to arrive later that same night, and their rental wasn’t available until a few days later. That meant they were spending the first few nights in our one-bedroom apartment. My wife was sleeping on the couch, and I was going to stay with my family.The first night went off without event. We heard the renters above, who lived in the main house, thumping around and doing laundry pretty late into the night, but we were all lively and awake anyway. There was a staircase that led up to what must have been their laundry room, based on the sounds, and it was locked from both sides. We had a deadbolt on our side, but something about the door and how it led into a stranger’s home left us all feeling a bit uncomfortable. Quickly it was forgotten as we were all absorbed in the joy of being together for the first time in almost a year.I slept on the couch that night and had nightmares that eluded me in the morning. I chalked it up to poor sleep because the people upstairs had been fucking tap dancing or something into the small hours of the morning. Every sound was clear through the thin ceiling. Just a steady pitter-patter of someone galloping around.We were busy the next day collecting more friends and relatives from the airport and shuttling them to their rentals. After that there was some decorative stuff to handle. I didn’t think of the night before until after the sun was down and I was back with my family. I asked if they’d heard anything, and everyone had a similar story. My little sister told me she heard scratching from the crawlspace. Probably a rat.That night went similarly: we were up late, talking, having a few drinks, the tv running. Occasionally we all looked up when a particularly loud bang came from above us. My dad was getting irritated. He didn’t have anywhere to be in the morning, but he felt that he’d paid too much money to have to listen to someone be so inconsiderate all night long. We resolved to text our Airbnb host the next day, and after another night of poor sleep, kept awake all night by the careless thumping of our upstairs neighbor, that’s exactly what we did.“I’m so sorry about that!” she said. “I’m actually out of town. My roommate is up there and he sometimes has friends over. They can be kind of loud. I’m always telling them to keep it down when I’m there. I’ll text him and ask if they can’t be more careful. So sorry again!”My parents, being older and less familiar with Airbnb, were disheartened to hear that their host was not around. My sisters and I tried to convince them that this was normal, and that her text should go a long way to solving our issue. But then another night came, and once more we all failed to sleep. I was laying on the couch, head under my pillow, when I heard the door of the room my parents were in slide open. It was past two a.m.“I’m gonna say something to that asshole,” my dad said. His eyes were red with sleep. It reminded me of being a kid and running down the hall when we’d hear him lumbering out of bed to yell at us for waking him.“Just text the lady again in the morning,” I said. I’m non-confrontational by nature, and was especially so during the week of my wedding. I didn’t need any extra stress.“This is fucking ridiculous!” he said. “It’s Tuesday night and almost three in the morning. These assholes don’t have jobs?”“I don’t know, man.”My dad went up the creaky stairs and put his ear to the door. Suddenly, the noise stopped. Silence from upstairs. I could hear the clock ticking on the wall. My dad kept his ear to the door a moment longer and then came back down. As soon as he was on the floor the noise resumed. He rushed back up the stairs and banged on the door.“Hey! We’re trying to sleep! A little courtesy please!”The noise picked up in intensity. It sounded like there were animals wrestling up there, too many feet banging and stomping and rolling around. My dad hit the door again.“Hey! It’s three in the fucking morning!”He came back down shaking his head.“This is insane. I want my money back.”He slammed the door to their room behind him. I heard him and my mother speaking softly. That’s the last I remember before falling asleep into the most lucid, horrible nightmare I’ve ever had. I dreamt that I was in the basement apartment, but all the doors had disappeared except for the one at the top of the stairs. The room my sisters were in, gone. Ditto for my parents. Even the bathroom was gone. I was in a white cinder block tomb. Above me, a multi-legged beast fiendishly galloped across the floor, panting loud enough for me to hear.I heard the sound of a lock turning. Then another. Then the door at the top of the stairs opened. I heard feet on the creaky stairs, coming down to me. Something blew air out of its nose like a horse. From around the corner it laughed. I woke up, covered in sweat.I was distracted all the next day. We had to go pick up our suits. My dad and I were both restless. We didn’t talk about it, but his face was gaunt and disturbed. I wondered what he dreamt about. But my (soon-to-be) father-in-law was there, and so was my best friend; they were happy and full of energy and managed to pull us out of our heads. After the suits we went and picked up some lawn games we’d rented—giant jenga, cornhole boards—and later that night we all went to my barber to get fresh cuts. I felt happy again, excited. My wife was finally beginning to relax a bit too now that most of the preparations were done. It was a good day, but as soon as we retired to their Airbnb, gloom fell over us. My family sat around quietly, all of us taking turns glancing up at the ceiling. It was quiet, but the noise didn’t normally start until close to midnight. I could see similar apprehension on the faces of my sisters and mother. No one spoke of nightmares and no one had to.We retired to our respective beds earlier than normal. To my surprise (and theirs too, surely), the clock struck midnight without a sound. My sister had reached out to our Airbnb host again that day, and with a little more tact than my dad could manage. She said they’d had a good conversation and the woman had even agreed to refund the charges for the first few nights because she felt so bad. I was hopeful that whatever she’d said to her roommate finally worked. I drifted off to sleep.A few hours later I woke up to a familiar sound. Not the thumping I’d grown accustomed to, but the sound of a lock turning. Then another. My heart started pounding. I looked across the room, expecting to find myself imprisoned again, but this time the other doors were there. I checked my phone and saw it was 2:43 in the morning. I wasn’t dreaming. There was no doubting this.Then the door at the top of the stairs slid open. I heard it, and saw the light that came out, illuminating the nearly pitch black apartment I was sleeping in. I should have yelled, should have roused the rest of my family, but I froze. The door closed and I heard feet descending the stairs. Everyone else was behind a closed door. I was on the couch in the black living room. I held my breath and tried not to move.Faintly, I saw a shape. It came around the corner from where the stairs were. It was short, the height of a child, and its head was perfectly round and hairless. There was one window in the front door letting in soft moonlight and my eyes were well adjusted. I watched whatever had just descended from the stairs creep past where I lay on the couch. It blew air from its nose, the sound so much like a horse or a bull. As it walked I heard the sound of multiple feet progressing. It was hunched over and its gait was irregular.I felt like a little kid hiding from a monster under the blankets, except my head was exposed and I didn’t dare move. I simply lay as I was, hoping it couldn’t see as well as I could. It advanced down the hall towards where my sisters slept. I told myself that no matter how scared I was, if it opened the door I would get up. I had to. But it didn’t. Instead it turned, ducked its head, and disappeared from my sight. It was crawling along the ground now, and the kitchen counter blocked my view. I closed my eyes and hoped for it to end.I could hear the sound of its many feet progressing across the tile. It was getting closer. Closer. The feet stopped somewhere in front of my couch. My face was tightly scrunched, my eyes pinched close, and I wasn’t breathing. But it was. I felt its warm breath on my face, inches away. It made another sound then, an animal sound, halfway between a growl and a laugh. Then it left quickly, ascending the stairs two at a time. The door closed. The locks slid. Somehow I fell asleep. I was too scared to do anything else.The next day I was too busy to dwell on what had happened the night before. We had our wedding rehearsal. I vowed to myself that it was the last night I’d let my family stay there, and debated whether I should tell them what had happened or not. They were all safe behind closed doors and I was set to be home that night, finally. I’d tell them to lock their doors, just in case, and hope for the best. The wedding was the next day and I didn’t see any other choice. Before we left for the rehearsal we heard a voice from above the first time. A guy’s voice, someone having a conversation.After the rehearsal my sister got a text from the host.“Hey, so I am going to refund you for the entirety of your stay and if you are uncomfortable staying another night I can refer you to someone in the area with vacancy. It turns out my roommate has been backpacking all week, hence why he never responded to my texts. I’d thought he was ignoring me, which truthfully isn’t uncommon for him. But he hasn’t been home all week. He says our house looks disheveled and asked if there’s any way you all might have found your way inside. But based on what you told me you were hearing, I’m guessing it must have been a break-in. Unfortunately there are a lot of homeless people in our neighborhood and other places have had break-ins the past few months. If you want to stay, you are more than welcome, but I certainly understand if you want to leave.”I never told them about what happened to me that night. Whatever came down those stairs was no person. Now whenever I walk past that house, I can’t even look at it. It makes me wonder what’s out there. It got inches away from me. It drew in my smell and it laughed. Does it remember me? Is it looking for me? I try to tell myself it was just another nightmare, and some days I can almost believe that. But at night, when my house is dark and quiet, I sometimes hear the sound of many feet approaching. I hear air rushing out of animal nostrils. I hear something laughing at me in the distance. And I wonder how long I have left. via /r/nosleep https://ift.tt/3kTyylA