Incoming Message

I started getting the texts last month. At first I just got the odd one here and there, maybe once a week or something like that. The flickering of the blue light of my phone forced its way into my life like some great, terrible beacon that I couldn’t ignore.

It’s cold in here.

I was pretty sure someone had the wrong number. I tossed my phone to one side and forgot about it.

A few days later my phone bleeped again.

When did it get so dark?

Where am I? 

I decided to text back, maybe it was a stupid idea but it seemed like the most logical thing to do at the time.

Who is this? 

I waited exaclty one minute before the screen lit up with an eager, sickly glow.

Did you forget about me?

My stomach flipped over.

Who is this? How are you using this number? 

I got no reply to that. I sat up nearly half the night next to the phone waiting for something; nothing happened.

It must have been about a week before I got the next one. I must say I was starting to miss the interaction, the flutter of exciement and fear in the pit of my stomach has grown into a stimulus I craved.

I miss you.

I felt the keen prick of tears at the back of my eyes, sharp, vivious little needles digging into my retina.

I miss you too. 

I’ll be home soon. 

I sucked in my breath, tears propelling themselves down my face now.

When?

Soon, Jack. 

How would they know my name? How would they know if it wasn’t her? Maybe It could be true. I waited. I sat, crossed legged on my bed until I lost all feeling in my feet, pins and needles giving way to a fat, nothing sensation.

I was excited, the messages had given me new hope. I wanted to believe it. It had been a comfort to me, receiving all these messages. It was just a shame that Grandma had been burried with her mobile phone.

Demon Housemate

Usually I don’t post this kind of thing. I’m strictly a straight up, fiction only sort of girl so putting up a true story is a bit out of the ordinary for me. It’s just that, I don’t know how to handle this situation. I’m hoping all you good folk out there can give me a bit of advice.

I’ve experienced the supernatural before, the odd tap on the shoulder here and there; probably the product of an overactive imagination and a healthy appetite for the weird. This is something else though and it’s not just me that’s experiencing it. I know I’m not crazy, and I know this is real.

A few weeks ago I moved into a shared house with a bunch of friends. Stuff hadn’t been going well at home and the prospect of a change of scenery was too enticing. I brought the bare necessities and set up camp in the spare room, living out of my suitcase. It was pretty blissful I can tell you.

Before I moved in I’d been jokingly warned of “The Demon” that was supposed to be haunting the place. Like anyone else I laughed it off; what’s a demon going to be doing hanging around a two up two down in a small English town? People had heard weird banging, whistling that kind of thing. I chalked it up to one too many late nights and alcohol messing with their heads.

So, I’d been there about a week when I get a text from one of my housemates asking me if I was in the house. I’d been bored out of my mind at work for the past few hours and told him so. I glanced over at the incoming message as the screen lit up.

I was just in the shower and I’m almost sure I heard someone cough. It sounded close, like just behind me. 

Picking up the phone I glanced around to make sure there was no manager lurking behind the cheap, grey shelving and quickly hashed out a reply.

It’s probably just one of the girls messing about or something. Why don’t you go check? 

There’s no one else here … 

I sat up in my chair a little and frowned. I was pretty sure he’d just heard the grumbling of the water pipes; the boiler or something and told him so. He seemed so sure of it and when I got home he did seem a little on edge. It shook my resolve a bit and I made double sure to check all the dark corners of the bathroom for a few days after that.

I forget exactly how long after that it was but sometime later we hosted a house party. Nothing major just small gathering with a few friends and some good alcohol. I’d brought my DSLR along and we took a bunch of pictures to remember the night by. I’m a huge Facebook addict so, naturally I had to upload them to my page. Sitting crossed legged on my bed in a comfy pair of jammies I went through the picture happily tagging away until something smacked me right in the gut. I lurched forward and grabbed the screen in both hands. Amidst all the smiling faces of my friends was a different face, a black and white face in a sea of colour images. It was the fifth row down, two in from the right. A woman stared out at me with whited out eyes and a sly looking grin on her face. Her curly hair rolled around her cheeks and down her shoulders; I’d never seen her before in my life.

“Shit.” I mumbled. I scrolled back rapidly through all the pictures, there were no other images in the background, nothing the tagging application could have accidentally picked up. I was stumped, I’ve still got no explanation for it. I studied it carefully as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end; it was sinister as hell.

Fumbling across the bed covers I snatched up my phone and opened up Whatsapp. The screen flashed as I snapped a picture. I dithered for a moment; I didn’t want everyone to freak out, I mean, we all still had to live there. Fuck it, I need a second opinion. I pushed send and waited for a response. I didn’t have to wait long.

What the hell is that?! 

I re-told the whole saga in detail.

What do you mean that came from the party pictures? I took those … 

I know, I can’t explain it either. There are no pictures on the wall, nothing on anyone’s clothing and we sure as hell don’t know anyone who looks like that. 

…. Great, just what I wanted, a demonic room mate. 

Needless to say, everyone was freaked. I showed the girls who lived with us what we had found and they were suitably bothered by it. Being close friends they often shared a bed in their moment of fear. I envied them, all I had to ward off what ever was lurking around was a stuffed toy that I clung to life a life jacket.

After our “sighting” things only got worse. Stuff started moving about, I lost keys, chargers, my phone, pens, paperwork all to find it in some obscure location a few hours later. The doors to cupboards stood ajar and doors creaked open. I know, there are a million explanations for this stuff; the wind, people leaving the door open, forgetfulness but it always felt wrong you know? Like something was messing with me.

I was left with no doubts at all when I was sitting in the living room enjoying a cup of tea and a chat with one of my house mates. It was casual, we’d had a good day and nothing horribly weird had happened for a couple of days. I could hear a little bit of thumping going on upstairs, someone being a bit heavy footed in one of the bedrooms, the girls were known for their heard of elephants impersonations. I was in mid sentence when one of them barrelled headlong down the stairs, cutting my conversation short.

“Jesus, can they get any louder?” I sighed aloud, frowning. “One day someone is going to go straight through the stairs.” My friend grinned at me and reached behind him to open the door for our companion. The room was silent.

We looked at each other confused. He stood and stuck his head around the door frame.

“What the …” I heard him mutter under his breath; he climbed the stairs two at a time.

I scrambled up off the sofa, heart hammering and stood at the bottom of the dark flight, arms crossed over my chest, my back to the wall. He reappeared after a few seconds, and slowly, almost thoughtfully made his way back down the stairs. He stood at the bottom for a  moment before looking me in the face.

“There’s no one there.”

“We definitely just heard someone coming down those stairs. There has to be someone there.”

“Go check for yourself if you want. I’m telling you there is no one in this house but us.” I wanted to speak but my brain just chewed the cogs. I gazed back up the stairs to the landing that now looked imposing and terrifying, I had to sleep up there, I had to go up there in the dark on my own.  Just as my brain was starting to catch up with what had happened when a bolt of light streaked across the top of the landing. I stuttered and took a step back, I could feel the blood drain from my face. There was no where a light like that could have come from, nothing to reflect off. I noped right out at that point and made up my mind to sleep on the sofa that night.

Whatever we were sharing our living space with was really upping the anti now. Growling, gurgling noises could be heard in some of the rooms, light coughing, prodding and the occasional shove were experienced by everyone, especially if you stayed here alone. Often, I’d stop people mid-flow in a conversation to ask if they had heard the creepy noises issuing from the gloomy upstairs.

I was starting to freak out, I could feel it, like a little knotted ball in the pit of my stomach. We’d had a few friends over the night before, just for a chat, nothing too heavy and we’d got to talking about our demonic friend.

“I’ve seen it.” One of the guys said. I was pretty sure he was winding me up, having a reputation for that kind of humour.

“What does it look like?” I quizzed, no one had seen the picture but my flatmate and I so I was totally expecting him to concoct something out of thin air.

“It’s a woman, young looking. She’s got curly hair to her shoulders, maybe blonde. Her clothes looked kind’a period. I’ve seen her a few times when I’ve slept over here, I can see her reflection in the mirror.” He pointed to the big wall mirror we had hanging in the living room. If you sat on the sofa you could see the doorway and out into the corridor. I imagined this ghostly woman standing in the doorway watching us and shuddered.

The silence was shattered by a sudden crash from the front bedroom. I jumped and my room mate leapt to his feet; it was his room the sound had come from. We all crept slowly forward, hoping that a cat or something had got in through an open window and made that noise. Nothing stirred, the room sat silently, perfectly in tact; all the windows remained fast shut.

It’s been unnervingly quiet for the last few days, we’ve had a few cupboard doors left open and lights spontaneously turning on and off but I guess things might be on the up. I’m still pretty nervous though, writing this up alone and in the dark probably isn’t helping me any. The blue glow of the screen is the only illumination in the claustrophobic darkness.

The front door has just opened and closed. The time on the laptop display says: 2:08 am. It must be one of the girls coming back from a night out, I can’t hear any footsteps on the stairs; nothing, Those stairs are always so loud I should be able to hear her, maybe she went to get a drink.

Fuck, the bedroom door just slammed itself shut, not mine one of the bedrooms down the corridor. I’m pretty sure mine’s locked … did I lock it? I think I did. Something it scuffling, rummaging around on the corridor, it’s fairly loud. I don’t know what to do.

I’ve just text everyone, just to make sure I’m alone.

I’m still out, why? 

Lol, I’m miles away, it’s not me! 

I’m still at work 0.o 

The door handle is moving, I swear to God the door handle is moving. I’ve got that tingling sensation, you know like when blood starts draining from your face? The doors on this floor are opening, I can hear them opening and shutting. Those doors I watched the girls lock are opening and shutting.

I’m one floor up, there’s no way out, no where to go. I’m here, alone in the dark, with it. It wants to come in.