Scary Stories, Rituals, and Urban Legends

Footsteps outside my door

A few weeks ago, someone stood outside my bedroom door all night. I live alone.

I went to sleep that night as normal. I got a pretty good home security setup after a break-in years ago, so I never worry about burglars. I slept soundly until half three in the morning, when something woke me up.

It was the squeak of footsteps in the hallway outside, approaching slowly. I quickly ran through all the possible explanations for this--a dream; the house settling; my imagination--and arrived at the only one that made sense: someone was in my house, and they were rapidly approaching my bedroom door.

I sat straight up in bed, every nerve in my body thrumming, and listened as the footsteps reached my door...then stopped. I waited for the squeak of the handle, but it didn't come. I could hear the subtle shift and creak of the floorboards indicating that the person was standing right outside the door, but for some reason they didn't open it.

"Hello?" I said, my voice trembling. There was no reply. I very slowly and carefully stepped out of bed, then ran to the nearest piece of furniture--a heavy chest of drawers--and hauled it in front of the door, certain that it was going to fly open at any moment.

With the door secured, I turned on my bedroom light and peeked though the keyhole. I couldn't see anything; the hallway outside was too dark. I considered climbing out my window, but I didn't fancy being out in the night with two sprained ankles. So I sat on my bed in the dark, staring at the door, listening to the creaking of the floor as the person on the other side shifted their weight.

When dawn finally came (it seemed to take twice as long as normal), I looked through the keyhole again. There was nothing there.

There was no sign of the intruder anywhere else in the house, and the police found no evidence of a break-in. After a week of sleeping with my door barricaded and the lights on, I started to rest easy again. Then the footsteps came back.

This time, I decided I was going to just open the door and confront the asshole. I had my hand on the handle, tensing to push it and shove the door open, when I stopped.

I had heard a sound from the other side of the door: a sharp intake of breath. It was an excited, anticipatory sound, like someone who had just gotten a whiff of a delicious meal. I slowly let go of the handle and backed toward my bed, sick with fear.

It was waiting for me to open the door. Whatever it was, it couldn't--or wouldn't--enter my room, so it was waiting for me to come out.

That was the last straw. The next day I decamped to a hotel, resolving not to set foot in my house again until I figured out what was stalking me. I spent the day in my new room, researching supernatural and paranormal creatures--beings like vampires, who need to be invited across thresholds.

As night fell, I started to feel more and more nervous. Every time someone walked past my room, I sat up and listened intently, my heart pounding, until the footsteps passed my door. I had avoided going outside, fearful of being chased through the long hotel corridors by whatever was following me, and I was starting to get hungry.

I ordered room service, and went to the bathroom, anticipating my "gourmet" cheeseburger, delivered by a night-time visitor I wouldn't have to be afraid of this time.

That's when I heard the footsteps. Coming from inside my room.

They walked calmly to the bathroom door--a sliding door with no lock--and stopped. Now I was trapped in a space the size of a closet, surrounded by cold tiles and harsh fluorescent light. If my theory was correct, I was in for a long, uncomfortable night. If I was wrong, there was nothing to stop my stalker from wrenching the door open.

Then there was a knock at the door--the hotel room door--and I heard a voice. "Sir? Room service."

My blood ran cold. Should I say something? What would happen if the hotel staff entered the room.

Another knock. "Sir?"

"Don't come in!" I shouted.

"Is something wrong?"

The creature outside the door shifted.

"Everything is fine, stay out there!"

I must have sounded sufficiently panicked, because the next thing I heard was the hotel room door click open as the employee swiped his key-card.

"Sir? Is everything--" I heard a gasp of horror, then pounding footsteps as the creature sprinted at the employee.

The tray clattered to the floor. The employee screamed in terror, and then pain. I heard ripping flesh and the splash of blood.

I'll admit that I stayed where I was, listening to the employee's dying breaths. A small, guilty part of me wondered if my stalker would be satisfied now. Better him than me.

By the time I came out, the police were already on the scene. I only caught a glimpse of the employee's body as they hustled me down the hallway and to a staff room to get my statement, and that was more than enough. There was no sign of whatever had killed him.

There have been no more footsteps outside my door ever since. Now when a floorboard creaks or my house groans in the night, I pull the covers over my head and close my eyes. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.

Authors note:thanks to everyone who viewed my book we hit 1000 I remember when we only had 10 views so thanks

XOXO Jade