Things have started to act up again

March 1, 2025

by Einar

3 min read

Story Premise 3 min read (548 words)

"Hello everyone! I haven’t shared a story in a while because things had settled down a bit in our house. But recently, things have started to act up again, and we’ve had quite a few odd experiences. One late night, around 1:00 or 2:00, my mom and I were the only ones awake. My dad […]"

Hello everyone! I haven’t shared a story in a while because things had settled down a bit in our house. But recently, things have started to act up again, and we’ve had quite a few odd experiences.

One late night, around 1:00 or 2:00, my mom and I were the only ones awake. My dad was asleep since he had to work early in the morning. My mom decided to camp out in my room and watch movies with me. As we watched a series on my laptop, my mom suddenly jumped, startling me. She was staring at the bedsheets with a scared look on her face.

Worried, I asked her what was wrong. She said, “Oh my gosh, I swore I just saw blood!” She insisted there was blood splattered all over my sheets. I tried to reassure her, suggesting she might have mistaken the pink roses on the sheets for blood. But she was adamant that she had seen blood, which freaked me out as well.

My mom got so scared that she thought something might have happened to one of her family members. She checked her phone for messages but found none. She then walked downstairs to make sure all the doors were locked. I didn’t fully believe her at first, but her insistence made me realize she was genuinely terrified.

We decided to take showers to calm down. When we opened my bedroom door, our cat was sitting there, wide-eyed, staring at the top of the door. We checked for any insects or anything that could have caught his attention but found nothing. The cat’s behavior was peculiar, as if he had been spooked by something.

We both took our showers with the bathroom door open, still feeling uneasy. After our showers, we went back to my room and lay down on the bed. Soon, we heard creaking on the floor, and my mom asked, “What is that?” I tried to brush it off, but the creaking continued, this time in the hallway.

I had heard these creaking sounds before, but I never liked looking out into the dark hallway, so I always kept my door slightly closed. When I finally decided to investigate, I found that everyone was sound asleep, confirming my suspicion that something strange was going on.

One night, the nightlight in my room began to flicker and eventually came unplugged, leaving us in the dark. We plugged it back in, but it happened again. My mom went to use the restroom, and I followed her to avoid being alone. When we returned, the nightlight was unplugged again, even though I hadn’t touched the cords.

We were both pretty shaken up by these events. I ended up staying in my mom’s room for two days, feeling too creeped out to sleep in my own room. The night before I returned to my room, we were watching TV in her room when we heard my Alexa device in my room say, “Hmm, I’m not sure about that.” Someone or something must have triggered it, but we couldn’t explain how.

At this point, it’s clear that our house is haunted. By who or what, we’re not sure. The little things that happen continue to creep us out, but we’ve become more fascinated by the experiences.

Related Horror Movies to Watch

Bloody Bits: Shorts Compilation Vol. 2

2018

Nelle pieghe della carne

1970

Happy Hell Night

1990

One Frightened Night

1960

Leave a Comment Cancel reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.

The Dress by the Gate

In the autumn of my tenth year, I walked the familiar path to Maplewood Elementary, my younger brother Leo trailing behind me, dragging his backpack and complaining about the cold. We lived in a quiet town called Ashford, where the old mill stood like a skeletal finger against the sky and the river whispered secrets […]

The Floor Above

At fifty-one, I’d finally found a place I could call my own—a modest bungalow on the outskirts of Ashford, Maine, where the pines pressed close and the roads turned to gravel after a mile. I’d moved from the city after my wife died, seeking quiet, and this house offered it in spades. The first night, […]

The Ragged Man on the Staircase

I was eleven, maybe twelve, when the house on Parchman Lane started to feel wrong. It wasn’t the peeling wallpaper or the draft that smelled of apples and rot. It was the way the staircase creaked in the exact same rhythm each night, as if something was climbing them just to see if I would […]

The Cardboard Celestial

In the autumn of 1987, the Finch house sat at the end of a gravel lane, its peeling white paint and sagging porch a testament to better days. Inside, the musty smell of old books and mothballs clung to every corner. My brothers, Leo and Sam, were eight and six, and I, at thirteen, was […]

The Sunken Orchard

When I was nine, my mother’s new husband, Gerald, bought a decaying estate on the outskirts of Blackwood, a town known for its dying apple orchards and a history steeped in colonial violence. The house, a Victorian monstrosity with peeling paint and a sagging porch, had been vacant for three years, which explained its remarkably […]

The Bulb in the Root Cellar

In the autumn of 1987, my family moved into an old farmhouse on the edge of a sprawling soybean field, a place that had been vacant for years. The previous owners had left behind a root cellar, a dark pit beneath the kitchen, sealed with a heavy wooden trapdoor. We were a family of five: […]

The Gilded Swan

The first time I noticed the lamp, I was six. It stood in the corner of our parlor in the old Creighton house, a monstrosity of tarnished brass and a shade of yellowed silk that looked like a dead swan. My mother had inherited it from her grandmother, who had inherited it from the madwoman […]

The Last Breath of Room 37

It wasn’t the crumbling facade of the old Mercy Falls Sanatorium that unsettled me; it was the silence around it. The building squatted on a hill above the town of Ashford, its windows like empty eye sockets staring at the moss-covered trees that had long since reclaimed the grounds. My brother, his wife, my partner, […]

The Thing in the Static

I never liked the den. It was the one room in our old house that felt wrong, even on sunny afternoons. The TV there was ancient, a bulky box with a grainy picture, and the antenna always picked up a faint static that sometimes formed shapes if you stared too long. Mom called it ‘imagination.’ […]

The Pipal Knot

In the arid fields outside the village of Kalwadi, there stood a solitary pipal tree, its aerial roots dangling like frayed ropes. The elders warned that the tree was a threshold—a place where the veils between worlds thinned, and where restless spirits could slip through. Children were told to never touch its bark, to never […]

The Hollow Stones

On the last Saturday of August, through the heat-buckled back roads of rural Vermont, my family and I finally arrived at the site of the old Meridian Asylum. I’d begged my parents for months to visit, ever since I’d seen a grainy documentary about its forgotten patients and the rumors of the doctor who’d vanished […]

The Candle’s Hollow Flame

In the autumn of that year, I moved into the old Harlow house, a relic of a past century that clung to the hillside like a barnacle. The previous occupant, a reclusive botanist, had left behind a greenhouse filled with withered, unnamed plants and a journal filled with pressed flowers and cryptic annotations. I was […]