I have lived in my current apartment for about 9 months now. My husband was carjacked in our front yard at our old rental, so we needed to find a place fast to get out of there. We found this little apartment on Craigslist, and while not perfect, it was cheap and in a good location. We immediately signed a lease, and moved in the next day.
The building has its quirks. It's about 120 years old, an old warehouse in a little historic downtown in Florida. We're on the top floor of the walk up, and have big gorgeous windows and 13' ceilings. Everything in this place is really tall. I can only reach the first shelf on the cabinets, and we had to but a double extra long shower curtain. I can barely reach up to knock the cobwebs down with my Swiffer.
But it's a nice little apartment, especially for $700 a month. We don't have kids or pets, so the little one bedroom is plenty of space for my husband and I.
About a month after we moved in, the noises started. It sounded like renovations going on downstairs. Lots of banging, sometimes loud enough to shake the floor. Not too long after we moved in I lost my job, so I spent a bunch of time at home. Being stuck at my computer job hunting for nearly three weeks straight, I started to notice some weird things about these noises.
When you're hanging a picture, or building a wall, whatever, eventually you move on to another spot to hammer, right? On one day, the hammering went on for six straight hours in just one corner. Then it stopped, and picked up again for another few hours in a different corner. This multi-hour long banging was just something we got used to, and it maintained this pattern a few days a week for months.
I talked to my next door neighbor, who swore there was something odd there. My neighbor across the hall, who did not speak great English, communicated through elaborate hand gestures that she would not talk to them, and I shouldn't either.
At some point, my husband swears he saw my downstairs neighbors. A Hispanic family, mom and dad, with what looked like two teenage daughters. He was going up the stairs into our apartment, when he saw them filing almost perfectly single file into their front door.
I'm not sure when the banging changed. After I got a job, I was at home way less, especially during the day. I was sick back in November, and my boss sent me home early. I arrived home to find them banging on the ceiling this time. But it was rhythmic. THUMP. THUMP. THUMPTHUMPTHUMP. Pause. Repeat.
After quite a while, maybe a few hours, I started to get weirded out. What if it was someone who was hurt and needed help? Also, how long of a stick were they using to bang on such a high ceiling? I laid down on the floor and listened to the noises, and they seemed to increase in urgency. Grabbing my mace (just in case) and cell phone, I went out into the hallway to see if I could still hear the noises.
I was met at my downstairs neighbor's door by the boyfriend of my next door neighbor. Mike had always looked like an ex-cop. He was listening intently with his hand against the door frame.
"Have you heard the noises?" I asked. He laughed.
"Yeah, the girlfriend sent me down here to see if I could get them to shut up. But I'm sure it's worse for you guys."
"Yeah" I said, "I'm not sure if they're renovating or testing hammers in there."
Mike knocked on the door a few times. THUMP. THUMPTHUMP. THUMP. "If you guys don't keep it down, we're gonna call the landlord."
I listened intently. The banging had paused. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"Well, that's that then, huh?" Mike high fived me before taking the stairs back up to the third floor two at a time.
Hanging back for a few seconds, I stared at the door. What Mike had just done seemed almost too easy after dealing with them for so long.
I walked back up the steps to my apartment. The door closed behind me, and I clicked the deadbolt into place.
THUMP. THUMPTHUMP. THUMP. Right under my feet. So loud I could feel it.
I jumped a mile, retreating further into my living room, curling up on the couch. I hid there until my husband got home hours later. That was the last time I heard the bangs for several months, but they recently started back up. Which brings me to the reason why I'm posting.
Tonight, I was hauling in my groceries. Living in a three story walkup, I try not to shop too heavy, but we were out of a lot. I was wrangling my bags in front of my door, and heard the door to the building open. Grabbing half my groceries, I brought them inside and put them in front of the refrigerator. When I went out to grab the other half, I heard a shuffling noise. It sounded like skin on skin, but louder.
You can see straight down to the first floor stairs from my door. I leaned over the railing, trying to see what was going on. At first, I didn't think anything was weird. It looked like a teenage girl standing at the foot of the steps, fiddling with her cell phone. She looked Hispanic, with waist length black hair, jeans, and an orange tank top. I had never seen her before.
She pocketed her cellphone, and fell forward on the steps, breaking her fall with her arms. But her arms were suddenly all wrong. They were too long, and the fingers were too. She launched herself forward, scrambling up the long stairs, her legs now bending impossibly under her.
The "girl" stopped at the second floor landing, and suddenly she looked normal again. She stood up, wobbling a bit and leaning against the wall. I gasped, which seemed to startle her. She sprinted towards the door to the downstairs apartment, out of sight, and I heard a huge boom that shook the whole building. I'm still not sure if it was the door slamming, or her running into the door.
I'm in my apartment now, alone. I have to pass that door to get in and out of the building. I have idea WHAT lives downstairs. The banging is back, and it is right underneath me. It's following me.
What do I do?
Submitted April 21, 2015 at 08:45AM by angafeabeta http://ift.tt/1GcRxOw nosleep
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