This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Square-Eye-7777 on 2025-01-29 19:45:27+00:00.

I don't expect anyone to believe this story. I don't even believe it myself. I just need to get it out, I guess. I need someone to hear it, someone who might understand or who might have had a similar experience, because I can't shake the feeling that I'm losing my mind.

I'm a broke college student. I don't have much money, so when I saw this house for rent, I thought, perfect. It was so cheap, I couldn’t pass it up. I know it sounds like something out of a horror movie, like The Conjuring or something, right? A person rents a super cheap place in the middle of nowhere, and it’s haunted. But I don't believe in ghosts. Even if they exist, what does it matter? I just needed a place to live, somewhere quiet. So, I rented it.

The first two weeks were fine. I unpacked my stuff and settled in. The house was isolated, tucked away in the woods with no neighbors nearby, and that suited me just fine. I liked the peace and quiet. But then, there was a smell. At first, I thought maybe it was just a dead animal nearby—a raccoon or a squirrel or something—but it wasn’t that bad. It didn’t bother me too much . Couple of time I saw tiny handprints on my windows and mirror , as I said I don't believe in paranormal , but this did creepy me a bit .

But as the days passed, the smell got worse. It was so strong, it was almost unbearable. I sprayed perfume, I cleaned every inch of the house, but it didn’t go away.

I tried to ignore it. Finals were coming up, and I needed to focus. I didn’t have time to dwell on the smell. But then things got stranger. My keys. I’d set them down in one place, and the next time I went to grab them, they were somewhere else entirely. I live alone, there’s no one else around. I don’t have roommates, no one visits unannounced.

At first, I thought maybe I was just being forgetful. Maybe my friend had come over when I wasn’t home, moved them around, but that didn’t feel right either. And then, it started happening more often. My stuff kept disappearing, or it would be in a completely different place. But the weirdest thing was that I started seeing things. Shadows out of the corner of my eye, moving when nothing was there. It was subtle at first, so I told myself I was just tired, that I had a lot on my plate.

But then it escalated. I started hearing things—footsteps, whispers, soft knocking on the walls. I didn’t tell anyone. I figured I’d just let it pass. Maybe it was just my imagination, or maybe the house was old, creaky. That night, everything changed.

I was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when I heard a scream. A blood-curdling scream. It sounded like someone was in pain, or in danger. I shot out of bed, my heart hammering in my chest, and ran outside, thinking someone was hurt, but there was nothing. The yard was empty. Dead silence. I stood there for what felt like forever, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Was it a dream? But I knew I had heard it. It was real.

I went back inside, trying to shake off the fear. I told myself it was just a bad dream, that I was stressed out from school. But when I got to the stairs, that’s when I heard it again. My bedroom door slammed shut.

I froze. My breath caught in my throat. My bedroom door didn’t even have a lock, but now it was locked. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Panic surged through me, and I backed away slowly, unsure of what to do. I called the police. The whole situation felt unreal.

The police came, but they didn’t understand. They didn’t believe me. “It’s probably just an animal,” they said. There wasn't any avadance of forced entry , even thoe thay serchd the house several times. In few days scratching started. It was faint at first, almost like it was coming from inside the walls. I could hear it clearly, even though I knew no one else was there. The sound made my skin crawl. I couldn’t get away from it.

The next few days were even worse. I began to see more shadows. These weren’t just glimpses from the corner of my eye anymore. These were full figures—dark, human-shaped things lurking in the corners of my vision. I’d turn to look, and they’d vanish.

I felt watched. It felt like I was losing my mind.

The strangest part, though, was the noises. At night, when I was trying to sleep, I’d hear the whispers. It sounded like children. It sounded like they were crying for help. It was like they were inside my head, begging for me to do something, but I didn’t know what. I didn’t know how to help, I thought I was going crazy .

One night, I woke up to the sound of laughter—soft, high-pitched. Children’s laughter, echoing through the house. I ran to the living room, but no one was there. The room was empty. And yet, the laughter continued, as though it was coming from every direction.

That’s when I started to realize: this wasn’t just some old house. Something was very wrong.

That was it for me , I packed up and left. I didn’t tell anyone, didn’t explain to the landlord. I just grabbed my stuff and left. I stayed with my parents for a couple of weeks. I didn’t want to go back to that house, didn’t want to face whatever was there.

Then, one day, I drove by to grab some of my things I’d left behind. I wasn’t expecting much, but when I pulled up, I saw the police tape. Yellow caution tape surrounded the house, and a team of officers were there.

The house was gone. Just a pile of ashes.

And when I saw the news a few days later, I was horrified. The police had found remains—human remains—in the walls. The bones were tiny, so small they could have only been children. They’d been hidden inside the walls for who knows how long.

I didn’t say anything to anyone. I didn’t need to. They had no reason to suspect me. I had an alibi. But something inside me knew that the house was gone for a reason. Those spirits—those tortured souls—had never left.

every time I close my eyes, I can still hear those children whispering my name , I've told this story several times , I still think about this to this day .