Real Horror Story Crawl Space – Submitted by: Rachel B. from Columbus, Ohio
“I never believed in horror stories… until one happened to me.”
Back in 2017, I had just moved into a small rental house in a quiet suburb of Columbus, Ohio. It was a cozy two-bedroom place with an old-school charm—creaky floors, wooden cabinets, and one of those old-fashioned crawl spaces under the house. I lived alone, and honestly, I loved the peace and quiet.
Until that November.
Unexplainable Noises from the Crawl Space
About two weeks after moving in, I started hearing noises beneath the floor. Scratching, soft banging, and what sounded like someone dragging something heavy. I assumed it was raccoons or maybe an opossum. I called pest control—they checked thoroughly but found nothing. No droppings, no entry points. Just cold dirt and unsettling silence.
But the noises didn’t stop.
They only came at night.
Whispering from Beneath the Bed
One night around 2:30 AM, I woke up suddenly. I could hear faint whispering—right under my bed. I froze, trying to rationalize it. The TV wasn’t on. I lived alone. My bedroom went completely silent… then I heard it again:
“She’s awake.”
I bolted out of bed and grabbed my phone, heart racing. I went into the living room and hovered over the emergency dial. But what would I even say? There was no break-in. No physical threat. Just terrifying sounds I couldn’t explain.
The Horrifying Discovery
By morning, I had made up my mind. I was going to check the crawl space—just to ease my mind.
The hatch was located in the hallway closet. My hands trembled as I lifted the old wooden panel. A wave of cold, earthy air hit my face.
What I saw still haunts me.
There was a mattress down there. A disgusting, stained mattress. Next to it, some empty food wrappers, a cheap flashlight… and a notebook.
The notebook was filled with shaky, obsessive handwriting. Page after page documenting my every move:
- “She washes dishes at 7 PM.”
- “She watched a horror movie alone tonight.”
- “She sleeps on the left side of the bed.”
Someone Was Living There. Watching Me.
I ran out of the house and immediately called the police. They came quickly and confirmed it—someone had been secretly living underneath my house, monitoring me. They had likely been there since before I moved in.
They never found him.
I moved out that very week. I’ve never set foot in that place again.
But sometimes… when I’m home alone… I still feel it.
Like someone’s watching.
Like he’s moved on to his next crawl space.
His next victim.
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