With our house, some kind of devilry is going on. We live outside the city - parents, after they came together, sold one apartment and bought a private house. Not very new, he already has forty years old. Everything in the house is good, only the basement was scary, all the wiring there constantly burned out and shorted, so there was no light there. Constantly pulled out of him by some kind of mustiness, sometimes even rotten meat. We found a bunch of corpses of mice and sometimes even rats there, but we all attributed the fact that they fell there, could not get out and died of hunger. The basement was an ideal concrete “box” - all butt to butt, no holes, so if someone got there from the beast, then definitely without a chance to get out. We have a cat there somehow fell down there, so she howled with such a jerk until we got it - she obviously could not jump out.
In the basement, by the way, there are two entrances - a hatch in the kitchen under the table (we don’t use it, so there were no stairs from it) and another hatch in the hallway. We first started to store food and old clothes in the basement, but the food there quickly deteriorated, and things were damp and turned into trash. Mother believed that this was due to mold, which was there on the walls due to lack of ventilation, had bred. In general, when we changed the flooring, we decided that we did not need this basement. They didn’t fill it with concrete, they just laid a new floor in all rooms, without any hatches, so the basement was walled up tightly.
We arrived a week after the flooring, put the furniture back, went to bed in the evening. My parents slept on the second floor, and I on the first floor. And then I hear through a dream a scraping sound as if someone was driving something iron like a knife or a nail on a stone. A long, continuous sound. And somewhere far away (at first I even thought that it was on the street - we have enough drunk neighbors so that the devil knows how they have fun there), or else it’s very close. And then the dream fell: I realized that the sound was heard in my room. I got up on the bed, looking into the dark and at the same time scary as I want to close my eyes, cover myself with a blanket and cowardly pretend that nothing is happening ... And the sound is exactly in my room.
Only a couple of seconds later it dawned on me that he was coming from the basement. It is as if someone is driving something in the basement ceiling with iron. The height of the basement is about two meters, so you have to either have a very big height or something like a stick to scratch the ceiling like that. I felt terrible. The light turned on - the sound continues, only now at the other end of the house. The basement was almost continuous, with only supporting posts in two places. And until five in the morning, someone scraped there, and I sat and, as a little girl, was afraid to get out of bed or turn off the lights. The next morning he told his parents.
They laughed at first, but I was pretty convincing, so my father decided to spend the night in the living room on the couch on the first floor to prove that I just invented everything for myself. At half-past one the scraper-scraper returned. Now he was doing the figure skating on the ceiling there. And sometimes it was clearly heard how something iron pounded on concrete. His father was bolder, so he even laid his ear on the floor. Says: it’s like a sound from the basement.
They began to think: what is it? And how to get it? They even thought that maybe, in some unknown way, one of the drunken neighbors fell in there, we did not notice him, and now he suffers there. But we were absent a week after the completion of work, he would not have survived there. To open the floor - it will cost a lot of money. Yes, and ... I must admit, no one wanted to check that such a thing was scratched there. In general, I now try to go there less often, I prefer to live in an apartment in the city. And the father says that it is regularly every night ranging from below for the second month.
Moreover, when the father sleeps there alone (a brave man, seriously), then it doesn’t even start late at night, and sometimes at eight o’clock, it’s already impudent (or this is because it gets dark early). It also seems to his father that it is in one corner, which under a large old cupboard, somehow often scratches, as if gradually making its way upstairs ...