This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/StrangeWartOnMyD on 2024-11-27 04:44:34+00:00.
It started like any other storm warning. The weather alerts lit up our phones, and the city sirens wailed across town, signaling the approach of a severe tornado. Living in the Midwest, this was nothing new—just another Tuesday.
My roommate Jenny and I grabbed our emergency kit and headed to the basement, settling in for what we assumed would be a couple of hours of waiting. The storm outside sounded vicious—wind howling, thunder cracking like it was splitting the sky in half. But the strange thing was… the sirens didn’t stop.
Usually, they’d wail for a few minutes and then silence, but tonight, they kept going, droning on and on. I tried to ignore it, focusing on the text I was sending to my mom to let her know we were safe, but Jenny kept pacing.
“Something feels off,” she said, pressing her ear to the basement door.
She was right. The sirens sounded…wrong. The tone was slightly higher than normal, almost like they were struggling to keep the same pitch. And underneath the mechanical sound was something else—a low, guttural noise, barely audible but unmistakably there.
A rumble rolled through the ground beneath us, shaking the basement walls. That’s when we heard the first scream.
It came from outside, muffled but blood-curdling. Jenny froze, and my phone slipped from my hand. We stared at each other in silence, straining to hear more. Another scream followed, then another, until they blended into a chaotic chorus of panic.
I crept up the stairs to the small window near the front of the house. Rain streaked the glass, but through the flashes of lightning, I saw something that made my stomach drop.
The sky wasn’t green, like you’d expect before a tornado. It was red. Deep, swirling red, as though the clouds themselves were bleeding.
“Do you see anything?” Jenny whispered behind me, her voice trembling.
I was about to answer when the power cut out, plunging us into darkness. Then came the knocking.
It wasn’t at the door. It was on the basement walls.
Three sharp knocks, spaced evenly apart, like someone—or something—was outside, trying to get in. Jenny clutched my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “There’s no way anyone’s out there in this storm,” she said, her voice barely audible.
The knocks came again, louder this time, and closer. They didn’t move like a person would. It was as if whatever was knocking was circling the basement, faster than it should have been possible.
And then it spoke.
At first, it was just a garbled mess, like static on a radio. But then the words became clear, even though the voice was all wrong—too deep, too distorted to be human.
“Let us in.”
I stumbled back, dragging Jenny with me, and we huddled in the corner. The voice came again, this time from directly above us, as though it were inside the house.
“Let us in.”
The sirens outside shifted, their pitch rising until they sounded like screams themselves. The guttural noise underneath grew louder, more defined. It wasn’t just a rumble. It was breathing.
The storm never passed. Morning never came.
The last thing I remember was the basement door creaking open, a cold draft rushing in, and Jenny screaming as a figure stepped inside. I don’t know how to describe it except to say it wasn’t human.
Now I’m alone. Jenny’s gone. I don’t know where she is, or if she’s even alive. But there’s something worse.
I just heard my phone buzz. A weather alert.
The sirens are starting again.
And this time, I think they’re for me.