This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Middle-Monitor-5412 on 2024-11-16 04:31:48+00:00.
Hi Reddit, I’m posting my story here because of what is happening in my house. I need help, and I don’t know what to do.
I live in Minnesota. I moved here a year ago to start a master’s degree. The area I live in is beautiful, and I have already made a life here. I have great friends, an amazing girlfriend, and there are a lot of opportunities career-wise for when I graduate. This place is my home.
I live in a small rental house, just big enough for myself and my cat. It came at a cheap cost, especially considering the area I’m in. Of course, I knew it might be a paranormal red flag, but I took a chance anyways. Honestly, the idea of some activity was comforting in a way. You see, I have been having paranormal experiences since I was five years old. Every place I have ever lived in has had at least some activity, most of it harmless, some not so much. I didn’t get a weird vibe when I toured the place, and at that price, how could I say no?
It started off small, as these things tend to do. An object out of place here and there, and my hairbrush went missing only to return a few days later in the exact spot I had left it. Ok, harmless enough, so I left it be.
About a month after moving in, a friend I had made in one of my classes came to my place to eat some dinner and have a few drinks to wind down from a busy week. The red wine kept pouring, and soon enough, my friend had to use the restroom. She came back to the living room, laughing slightly. I asked what was funny, and she told me that I was the biggest neat freak she had ever met. I do like to keep things organized, but it’s not obsessive, and I’ve never been called a “neat freak” before. I gave her a quizzical look, and in response, she said, “Oh you know, the way you’ve organized your bathroom”. I kept things set up as most people do, so when I asked her what she meant by “neat freak”, she beckoned me to come look. As I walked into the bathroom, it looked nothing like it had before my friend had come over. Every single thing I kept in my bathroom was lined up in a perfect row, from the biggest item to the smallest. “Oh ha ha”, I said, clearly thinking she had done this as a joke. I didn’t know her all that well after all, so I thought maybe she just had a weird sense of humor. I stared at the formation for one more second, and after an awkward pause, we went back into the living room to finish dinner.
Things were quiet for about a week. Then one Saturday morning, I walked to my kitchen to start a cup of coffee. I stopped in my tracks as I saw the silverware. Every utensil I owned was sprawled out on my kitchen table, but not randomly. Every fork, spoon, and knife were in a perfect circle, all pointing inward. A chill crept down my neck. Somehow, this seemed more sinister than a missing hairbrush.
Two days after the silverware incident, I came home from class later than usual. I flicked on all the lights, said hello to my cat, and meandered into the living room. I froze. All the cans in my cupboards were stacked, one on top of the other. It looked impossibly tall and definitely not stable enough to hold itself up like it was. My breath caught in my throat as I looked further into my living room. Every piece of furniture downstairs had all been piled up, with one chair sitting on top. It looked like someone had broken in, built a Christmas tree out of furniture, and placed the smallest chair on top, like some fucked-up star. I had heard of these types of hauntings before, but in all my years of attracting entities, this was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Of course, I tried to think of anything logical that could explain this. Maybe someone had broken into my house and played the most insane trick on me, but there was no forced entry, and I had the only key. I took some deep breaths, and reminded myself that I wasn’t being harmed physically, and my cat seemed to be fine, so I took on the long task of undoing everything.
I was starting to feel really uneasy being home. Either my cat sensed it, or he was noticing things, too, as he started staring at random corners, tracking things with his eyes. Animals can sense things like that, and again, it wasn’t doing any real harm, so I reassured my cat, and we went to bed.
My cat always sleeps next to me, but when I woke up, he wasn’t in the room. Unlike him, but not unheard of. I got out of bed and felt the strong urge to check on my cat. I called his name, looking in every room, until the only room that was left was the kitchen. As I walked in, I screamed. There was my cat, covered in a red goo. My god, I thought, that can’t be blood, please don’t let that be blood. I approached him slowly, he looked at me nervously, but he didn’t seem to be hurt. I examined the substance, only to discover it was ketchup. I opened my fridge, and the ketchup bottle that had been nearly full was almost empty, with the cap still open. Up until now, this entity had only been interacting with inanimate things, but now, it was messing with my cat. I can handle a lot, but when something starts interacting with a living being, I knew that what I was dealing with was no normal entity. Fuck with me, sure, but leave the goddamn cat alone.
So I did what I always do with an unwanted visitor, I demanded that it leave and never come back. I told it it was not wanted here and was no longer allowed to be here. Somehow, this only made things worse.
I went to bed that night and made sure to lock my cat in my bedroom with me. Telling things to go away usually worked, but this was on a whole other realm. It was the most unrestful night of my life.
I woke up groggy the next day, running everything through my head that had happened so far. I needed help, but who could I turn to? As I was brainstorming who might be able to help me (a priest? A psychic?), I walked to my bathroom. I flicked the lights on, and almost screamed in horror. “Staying” was written all over the walls in various substances, from toothpaste to shampoo. I almost fell as I backed out of my bathroom. My eyes scanned every surface of the hallway, the living room walls, and all over the kitchen, only to be met with thousands of “staying” written over and over again. And balanced, perfectly upright on the kitchen table, was my biggest kitchen knife. But that’s not the worst part. Whatever this thing was had ripped a picture of some old friends and me off the wall. It had torn the picture up, leaving only my face intact. The picture of me was speared right through my eye with the tip of the knife.
Please Reddit, I don’t know what to do, I don’t even know what I’m dealing with. I don’t think moving out of this house will help. This thing will follow me. The house is not haunted, I am.