Scary Stories and CreepyPasta's!

The Pounding On The Door

I moved to a new town about a year ago. I was offered a job and was at a point in my life where I felt restless and eager all at once. A new job in a new town was exactly what I had been waiting for.

In two weeks time, after saying goodbye to my friends and family, I packed up and made the four hour drive to my new apartment.

Turns out, it's tough to make new friends once you're out of college. I settled into the job just fine, my co-workers and daily routine both to my liking. Meeting new people was difficult though. I didn't go to church, I didn't really go out much, and I wasn't part of any club.

After a couple weeks of maddening isolation, I forced myself to go to a bar, determined not to leave until I met a few locals. I'm glad I went because that's where I met Lydia. I happened to sit down next to her and, after I ordered my drink, she noticed me and smiled, commenting on my shirt.

That sparked our conversation and eventually, after a few drinks, I summoned the courage to ask her out to dinner. She said yes and my life was suddenly exciting again. I couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't spend enough time with her. She was amazing and our date turned into two, then three, until finally she came over to my place for the night. In the morning, there was no question of how we felt about each other.

As the weeks turned into months, our relationship only got better. We never fought, we never argued. Hell, we hardly frowned at one other. I knew that we hadn't been dating that long, but even so, everything was so perfect that I was convinced we would stay like this forever.

One thing that did strike me as odd though, was that she never wanted to spend the night at her place. We always ended up at my apartment, which was fine, but it struck me as kind of strange. I had seen her place only once and it seemed perfectly fine. Her apartment consisted of an entire top floor of a three story house, fairly old, but well kept.

I asked her about this once or twice, suggesting we end the evening in her bed, but she always wriggled out of it. I didn't press her too much, her excuses always mildly valid.

Well... All that has changed.

You see, we did end up at her place for the night.

And Christ, I wish I had listened to her.

We were fairly drunk, the energy in the bar slowly winding to a dull murmur. I heard the bartender make last call and I groggily looked at Lydia on the bar stool next to me. She gave me a tired, tipsy grin and I asked her if she was ready to go.

She said yes and as we made our way outside, I realized that I was in no condition to drive. My car was parked behind the bar and as we clung to each other for warmth, I voiced my concerns. She told me she was too drunk to drive as well and suggested we call an Uber.

As I thought this over, I realized where we were in correlation to her apartment. I told Lydia that we were only a couple blocks from her apartment, why don't we just crash there? She seemed to be waiting for this, knowing full well how close we were. I had only been there once so my slogged mind had taken some time for that fact to catch up with my brain.

After a long pause, she agreed, warily.

It wasn't a long walk, the streets around us empty except for a few late night stragglers. She lived pretty close to the center of town and as we walked the brick sidewalk, I asked her how long she had lived at her place. She said three years, but she was looking to move. She wanted to get a place a little quieter, a little more out in the country. I expected her to casually bring up moving in together, but she never did.

After a few blocks, we arrived at her place. It was a large three story house with each floor rented out individually. She keyed her way into the front door and I followed her up the flight of creaky stairs. At the very top was her door, and after glancing at me, she unlocked it and we went in.