This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/EllieRaineFreed on 2024-09-11 18:02:10+00:00.
I’m not sure where to start with this, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I work as a security guard in a mid-sized office building. Nothing fancy, just a regular office complex where I do the night shift. It’s usually dead quiet. I do rounds, check the cameras, and spend most of the time staring at my phone. But last night, something happened, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s really wrong.
The night started like any other. I clocked in at 10 PM, took over from the day guard, and settled into my routine. The building’s empty after 8 PM, except for the cleaning crew that comes in for a couple of hours. They were just finishing up when I started. By 11:30, they were gone, and it was just me and the cameras.
I usually do a walk-through around midnight, just to stretch my legs and make sure everything’s locked up. The building’s got six floors, but only the first two floors are actively used by tenants. The rest are under renovation. I don’t like going up to those upper floors. They’re dark and full of half-finished walls, exposed wiring, and debris. I’ve always had a weird feeling about them, but part of the job is making sure no one’s up there doing something they shouldn’t.
I left the security office and started my round. Everything was normal—first floor was quiet, the doors locked, the lights dim. I made my way to the second floor. It’s a bit creepier at night because the motion lights only come on as you walk through, so you’re always stepping into a pitch-black corridor until the lights flicker on. But it was empty, as always.
I was about to head back downstairs when I thought I heard something. Just a faint, rhythmic tapping. I stopped, straining to listen, but it was gone. Figuring it was probably just some pipes settling or construction equipment, I shrugged it off and started down the stairs.
But there it was again. Tap-tap-tap. Faint, but persistent. Coming from above me.
I stood there, looking up the dark stairwell toward the upper floors. No one was supposed to be up there. I debated whether to go check or just ignore it. It wasn’t my first time hearing weird noises in this building. Renovations make things creak and shift. Still, the sound bugged me.
Eventually, I grabbed my flashlight and made my way up the stairs, the tapping growing louder with each step. The third floor was pitch black. My flashlight beam cut through the dust hanging in the air as I stepped off the landing. The floor was mostly unfinished—bare drywall, tools left scattered around by the construction crew. It was eerily silent except for the sound of my footsteps.
Then I heard it. A faint creak. Like someone shifting their weight on the floorboards ahead.
“Hello?” I called out. No answer.
I walked deeper into the floor, my flashlight bouncing off empty walls and exposed wiring. That’s when I saw it. A door at the end of the hall. One that shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t part of the renovation plans—I knew the layout of the building by heart. This door was old, with peeling paint and a tarnished brass handle.
I stopped, staring at it, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. No way was that part of the renovations. It was out of place. Like it had been there longer than the building itself.
I’m not proud of this, but I didn’t want to open it. Something about it felt wrong, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I turned to leave, and that’s when the tapping started again—this time from behind the door.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I froze. My heart was racing, and my mouth went dry. There was no mistaking it now. It wasn’t a construction noise. It was deliberate.
I took a step forward, then stopped. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to open that door. I backed away slowly, my flashlight flickering as the tapping grew louder. Closer.
I bolted. I turned and ran back down the stairs, nearly tripping over my own feet. I could hear it now, that tapping echoing behind me, faster, like something was coming down the stairs after me.
I didn’t stop running until I was back in the security office. I slammed the door shut, locking it behind me, and checked the cameras. Nothing. Every floor was empty, just like always. But I knew what I heard. That door wasn’t supposed to be there, and whatever was behind it... it wasn’t supposed to follow me.
I spent the rest of the shift glued to the camera feed, watching the stairwell, waiting for something to show up. Nothing ever did. When morning came, I left as soon as my relief arrived. I didn’t say anything. What could I even say?
I went back tonight, but I didn’t do the walk-through. I can’t bring myself to go near the upper floors anymore. Not after that.
I don’t know what to do. I need this job, but I don’t know if I can handle it if whatever was behind that door decides to come back.