August 7, 2025 • 23 mins
Midnight Horror Stories by Prime.net is the ultimate podcast for fans of paranormal fiction and true crime. Join us every day as we explore chilling macabre events and scary creepy tales that will linger in your mind long after you've listened. Get ready for a petrifying experience!
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:08):
Moving into a new place always comes with a mix
of excitement and anxiety. There's the thrill of starting fresh,
of making a space your own, but there's also the
stress of unpacking, settling in, and adjusting to unfamiliar surroundings.
Speaker 2 (00:22):
For me, the move was supposed to be a new beginning.
Speaker 1 (00:25):
I was ready to leave the city behind, to trade
the noise and chaos for peace and quiet. The house
itself was charming in its way, with tall windows and
a large yard. It had been sitting empty for a while,
the previous owners having moved out suddenly, but that didn't
bother me. The rent was cheap and the neighborhood was quiet,
(00:45):
just what I needed. The first few days were a
whirlwind of unpacking and getting settled. I spent most of
my time arranging furniture, hanging pictures, and trying to make
the place feel like home. The house was drafty, with
the kind of chill that seeps into your bones. I
figured once I got the heater going, it would warm up.
(01:05):
The only part of the house I didn't like was
the basement. It was a typical old house basement, dark,
damp and musty, with low ceilings and crumbling concrete. Walls,
the stairs leading down were steep and narrow, and the
single light bulb that hung from the ceiling flickered ominously
whenever it was turned on.
Speaker 2 (01:24):
I had only gone down there once to check out the.
Speaker 1 (01:26):
Space, and I didn't plan on going back unless I
absolutely had to. It gave me the creeps, but I
tried not to think too much about it, After all,
basements were supposed to be creepy. Right that night, as
I sat in the living room, surrounded by half unpacked boxes, the.
Speaker 2 (01:43):
First storm rolled in.
Speaker 1 (01:45):
It was one of those sudden summer storms, the sky
darkening in an instant, the wind picking up, and then
the rain pouring down in sheets. I watched from the
window as lightning lit up the sky. I had always
loved storms, the power, the raw energy of them. They
were Nature's way of reminding us how small we really are.
Speaker 2 (02:04):
But there was something different about this one. Maybe it
was the new.
Speaker 1 (02:08):
House, the unfamiliar surroundings, or maybe it was just my nerves.
But as the storm raged on, a sense of unease
began to settle over me. It started with a noise,
a low, rhythmic thumping that seemed to echo through the house.
At first, I thought it was just the wind, or
maybe something outside being tossed.
Speaker 2 (02:27):
Around by the storm.
Speaker 1 (02:28):
But as I listened, I realized it was coming from
inside the house. I stood up, my heart beginning to
race as I tried to pinpoint the source of the sound.
It was coming from below, from the basement. I hesitated
a not a fear tightening in my stomach. I didn't
want to go down there, didn't want to face whatever
might be causing that noise.
Speaker 2 (02:49):
But I couldn't just ignore it.
Speaker 1 (02:51):
The rational part of my brain told me it was
probably just a loose pipe, or maybe the old furnace
acting up.
Speaker 2 (02:58):
I needed to check it out.
Speaker 1 (03:00):
I grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and made
my way to the basement door. It creaked open, revealing
the steep stairs descending into darkness. The thumping noise was louder, now,
echoing up from below like the steady.
Speaker 2 (03:14):
Beat of a drum.
Speaker 1 (03:15):
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves,
and started down the stairs, the flashlight beam cutting through
the darkness. The air grew colder with each step, the
musty smell of the basement wrapping around me like a shroud.
The noise grew louder, more insistent, as if something was
waiting for me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs,
I shone the flashlight around the room, trying to locate
(03:38):
the source of the sound.
Speaker 2 (03:39):
The basement was just as I remembered it.
Speaker 1 (03:42):
Dark, damp, and cluttered with old, forgotten junk left behind
by previous tenants. The walls were stained with age, the
concrete floor uneven and cracked. And there at the far
end of the room was a door I hadn't noticed before.
It was small, barely more than a crawl space, and
it was locked with a heavy, rusted padlock. The thumping
(04:03):
was coming from behind that door, a steady, relentless.
Speaker 2 (04:06):
Rhythm that sent chills down my spine.
Speaker 1 (04:09):
I stood there, frozen, the flashlight beam trembling in my hand,
But there was a part of me that couldn't bear
not knowing what was causing the noise, and that drove
me forward. I took a step closer to the door,
the sound of my own breathing loud in my ears.
The thumping continued, a slow, deliberate beat, like a heart,
pounding against the walls. I reached out, my hand, shaking
(04:32):
as I touched the cold metal of the padlock. It
was old, rusted, but solid, the kind of lock that
hadn't been opened in years. And then suddenly the thumping stopped.
I froze, the silence pressing in around me like a weight.
The only sound was the rain pounding against the ground outside,
the wind howling.
Speaker 2 (04:51):
Through the trees.
Speaker 1 (04:52):
My heart was racing, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
Speaker 2 (04:56):
I couldn't stay down there any longer. I turned and ran.
Speaker 1 (04:59):
Up the stairs, not stopping until I had slammed the
basement door shut behind me. I stood there, my back
against the door, trying to catch my breath, trying to
convince myself that it was just my imagination that there
was nothing down there, But deep down I knew that
wasn't true. The next day, I couldn't stop thinking about
(05:21):
the basement. The storm had passed, leaving behind a bright,
clear morning, but the unease lingered. I tried to go
about my day, focusing on unpacking and organizing.
Speaker 2 (05:30):
But the thought of that locked door, of whatever.
Speaker 1 (05:33):
Had been making that noise nagged at me. I knew
I had to go back down there. I had to
know what was behind that door. I waited until the afternoon,
when the sun was high in the sky and the
house was bathed in warm, comforting light. It was easier
to face the basement in the daylight, easier to convince myself.
Speaker 2 (05:53):
That there was nothing to be afraid of.
Speaker 1 (05:56):
I grabbed the flashlight again, along with a crowbar I
had found in.
Speaker 2 (05:59):
The garage, and made my way back to the basement.
Speaker 1 (06:02):
The stairs creaked under my weight, the air growing colder
with each step, but I forced myself to keep going.
When I reached the bottom, the basement was just as
dark and musty as before, but the thumping noise was gone.
Speaker 2 (06:16):
The silence was almost worse.
Speaker 1 (06:17):
Though thick and oppressive. I made my way to the
lock door, my heart pounding in my chest. The padlock
was still there, old and rusted, but I was determined
to get it open. I wedged the crowbar under the
lock and began to pry the metal, groaning. It took
longer than I expected, the old locks stubbornly refusing to
give way, but finally, with a loud snap, it broke free.
(06:40):
The door creaked open, revealing a narrow, dark passageway that
led deeper into the basement. I hesitated, shining the flashlight
into the darkness. The air was colder here, the musty
smell more intense. The passageway was barely wide enough for
me to squeeze through, the walls closing in around me.
As I stepped inside, I moved slowly, the flashlight beam
(07:01):
trembling in my hand.
Speaker 2 (07:03):
The passageway seemed to go on forever. I could feel my.
Speaker 1 (07:06):
Heart pounding in my chest, the fear building with each step.
And then at the end of the passageway I saw
it a small, dimly lit room, the walls lined with old,
decaying wood. In the center of the room was a
single chair, and sitting in that chair was a figure,
slumped over and still. I stopped, my breath catching in
my throat. The figure was small, almost childlike. Its head bowed,
(07:30):
its hands resting limply in its lap. The clothes were old, tattered,
and covered in dust, as if they had been there
for years. I stepped closer, my heart racing, the fear
clawing at my chest. I could see the figure more
clearly now, a young girl, no more than eight or
nine years old, her hair matted and tangled, her skin
pale and lifeless. I wanted to run, wanted to get
(07:52):
as far away from that room as possible, but.
Speaker 2 (07:54):
I couldn't move.
Speaker 1 (07:56):
I was rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on
the girl's face, on the hollow, empty eyes that stared
back at me, and then, to my horror, she moved,
her head, lifted, her eyes meeting mine, and a slow,
eerie smile spread across her face. Her lips parted, and
in a voice that was barely more than a whisper,
she spoke, why did you leave me? I stumbled back,
(08:19):
the flashlight slipping from my grasp and clattering to the floor.
The room was plunged into darkness, and I could feel
the cold, clammy air closing in around me, the sound
of her voice echoing in my ears. I turned and ran, blindly,
groping my way back through the passageway, my heart hounding
in my chest. I could hear her behind me, the
soft sound of footsteps, the whisper of her voice growing
(08:42):
louder closer.
Speaker 2 (08:43):
Why did you leave me?
Speaker 1 (08:45):
I burst out of the passageway and raced up the stairs,
slamming the basement door shut behind me. I didn't stop
until I was outside, the bright sunlight blinding me. As
I stumbled into the yard, I leaned against the side
of the house, gasping for breath, my mind reeling what
had I just seen?
Speaker 2 (09:02):
Was it real? Or was it some.
Speaker 1 (09:04):
Twisted figment of my imagination brought on by the fear
and the darkness of the basement. But deep down I
knew it was real. I knew that the girl in
the basement was real, and that she was still down there.
The days that followed were a blur of fear and confusion.
I couldn't stop thinking about the girl in the basement,
couldn't stop hearing her voice in my head, that haunting
(09:26):
question that echoed in my mind, Why did you leave me?
I couldn't stay in the house anymore. The fear was
too much, the sense of dread too overwhelming. I started
sleeping in my car, parked in the driveway, too afraid.
Speaker 2 (09:40):
To go back inside.
Speaker 1 (09:42):
But even then I couldn't escape her. The fear followed me,
gnawing at my mind, driving me to the brink of madness.
I knew I had to leave, had to get as
far away from that house as possible, but there.
Speaker 2 (09:55):
Was something that kept pulling me back, something that wouldn't
let me go.
Speaker 1 (09:59):
It was like the house itself had a hold on me,
like the girl in the basement was calling out to me,
begging me to stay. And then one night, as I
sat in my car, trying to will myself to drive away,
I heard it again, the thumping noise, faint but unmistakable,
coming from the basement.
Speaker 2 (10:16):
I couldn't ignore it any longer.
Speaker 1 (10:18):
I had to know what was going on, had to
confront whatever was down there once and for all. I
grabbed the flashlight and made my way back into the house,
my heart pounding in my chest. The basement door creaked
open and I descended into the darkness. The air was
colder than ever, the musty smell almost suffocating. The thumping
noise grew louder as I reached the bottom, echoing through
(10:41):
the room like the beating of a drum. I made
my way to the passageway, the flashlight beam trembling in
my hand. The door was still open, the darkness inside
beckoning me forward. I stepped into the passageway, my breath
catching in my throat as I made my way.
Speaker 2 (10:57):
To the room.
Speaker 1 (10:57):
At the end, the girl was still there, sitting in
the chair, her eyes fixed on me. The eerie smile
was gone, replaced by an expression of sadness, of longing.
Her voice was soft, almost pleading, as she spoke, why did.
Speaker 2 (11:11):
You leave me? I couldn't move, couldn't speak.
Speaker 1 (11:14):
The fear had taken hold, paralyzing me. As I stood
there staring at her. She slowly stood up. Why did
you leave me? She repeated, her voice growing louder, more insistent.
Why did you leave me? I wanted to scream, to run,
but I was rooted to the spot, unable to tear
my eyes away from her. She took a step forward,
then another, her hollow eyes locked on mine, and then,
(11:37):
with a desperate effort, I turned and ran, the sound
of her voice echoing in my ears, the darkness closing
in around me. I didn't stop until I was outside,
the cold night air biting at my skin, the fear
still gnawing at my mind. I knew I couldn't stay
there any longer. I had to leave, had to get
as far away from that house as possible. I grabbed
(11:58):
what little I could carry and drove away, the fear
still gripping me, the girl's voice still echoing in my mind.
Speaker 2 (12:05):
I never went back. I couldn't.
Speaker 1 (12:07):
The house was sold, and I moved on, trying to
put the past behind me. But no matter how far
I ran, I could never escape the memory of the
girl in the basement, the fear that still haunted me.
And sometimes late at night, when the world is quiet
and the darkness presses in, I can still hear her
voice calling out to me, why did you leave me?
(12:38):
Driving at night has always been something I've enjoyed. There's
something peaceful about it, the way the world quiets down,
the road's empty except for the occasional passing car. It's
like the darkness brings a sense of calm that daylight
never could. So when the storm started.
Speaker 2 (12:54):
That evening, I didn't think much of it. I'd driven
through worse.
Speaker 1 (13:00):
I was on my way home from my parents' place,
a trip I made at least once a month. The
route was familiar country roads, winding through miles of open
fields and dense woods, the kind of roads that felt
secluded even during the day. At night, especially with a
storm rolling in, they could feel downright desolate. The first
rain drops splattered against my windshield as I pulled onto
(13:21):
the main road, the sky a deep, bruised gray. I
turned on the wipers, listening to the rhythmic thump as
they swept the water away. The storm was picking up quickly,
the rain coming down harder, the wind buffeting the car.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, growing louder with each passing minute.
I drove on my headlights, illuminating the darkness ahead, the
(13:43):
road barely visible in the downpour.
Speaker 2 (13:46):
I knew these roads.
Speaker 1 (13:47):
Well, every curve, every bump, but the storm had a
way of making even the most familiar places feel strange,
almost menacing. It was about halfway home when I saw him.
The rain was coming down in sheets so thick it
was like driving through a waterfall. I was focused on
the road, trying to keep my car from sliding on
the slick pavement, when a flash of lightning lit up
(14:09):
the sky. In that brief, blinding moment, I saw him,
a man standing in the middle of the road, dressed
entirely in white. My heart leaped into my throat and
I slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as they
fought for traction. The car swerved, and for a terrifying second,
I thought I was going to lose control, But then miraculously,
(14:31):
the tires caught and the cars getted to a stop
just inches away from where the man had been standing.
I sat there, gripping the steering wheel, my breath coming
in short, panicked gasps. The rain was pounding on the roof,
the sound deafening, but all I could think about was
the man I had almost hit. I couldn't see him anymore.
The darkness and the rain had swallowed him up. Who
(14:55):
the hell would be out here in the middle of
a storm, wearing all white, just standing in the road.
The question echoed in my mind, but there was no answer,
just the relentless pounding of the rain. Slowly, I released
my grip on the steering wheel and peered through the windshield,
squinting into the darkness. The road ahead was empty, the
man in white nowhere to be seen. I should have
(15:17):
felt relieved, but instead a chill ran down my spine,
the kind of cold that settles.
Speaker 2 (15:22):
Deep in your bones. Maybe he had.
Speaker 1 (15:25):
Moved off the road, I thought, maybe he was just
some poor soul who got caught in the storm and
was trying to find shelter. But if that were true,
why hadn't I seen him move. It was like he
had just vanished into thin air. I shook my head,
trying to shake off the unease that had settled over me.
I couldn't just sit there all night. I needed to
(15:45):
get home. With one last glance at the empty road,
I put the car back in gear and slowly started
driving again, my hands still trembling on the wheel, but
I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. Seemed
louder now, the wind more insistent, like it was trying
to tell me something. I kept checking the rear view mirror,
(16:06):
half expecting to see the man in white standing behind me.
Speaker 2 (16:09):
But the road was empty, just the way it should be.
Speaker 1 (16:12):
But deep down I knew something wasn't right, and it
was about to get a lot worse.
Speaker 2 (16:18):
I was almost home, just a few miles to go
when it happened. The storm was at.
Speaker 1 (16:23):
Its peak now, the wind howling like a living thing,
the rain so heavy it was like driving through a
curtain of water. I had to slow down, the car
barely crawling along as I tried to see the road ahead.
Speaker 2 (16:35):
That's when I saw him again.
Speaker 1 (16:37):
It was just a flicker of movement at first, a
pale shape darting across the road, barely visible through the rain.
My heart skipped a beat, and I slammed on the
brakes again, my mind racing. I had seen him.
Speaker 2 (16:49):
Hadn't I?
Speaker 1 (16:51):
The man in white running across the road. I peered
through the windshield, my breath fogging up the glass. For
a moment, everything was still, the only the relentless drumming
of the rain. But then out of the corner of
my eye, I saw him, a flash of white, darting
on the side of the road. Hannocks surged through me,
and I yanked the wheel to the side, trying to
(17:12):
avoid him. The tires skidded on the wet pavement, and
the car spun out of control. I felt the world tilt,
the headlights sweeping across the trees in a dizzying blur,
and then, with a sickening crunch, the car slammed into
something solid. The impact knocked the breath out of me,
the seat belt cutting into.
Speaker 2 (17:31):
My chest as I was thrown forward.
Speaker 1 (17:34):
For a moment, everything went dark, the world reduced to
the sound of my own ragged breathing and the rain
hammering on the roof. When I opened my eyes, I
was slumped over the steering wheel, my head pounding, my
vision blurry. The car had come to a stop, half
on the road, half in the ditch, the front end
crumpled against a tree. I sat there for a moment,
(17:55):
trying to catch my breath, trying to make sense of
what had just happened. The man in white I had
seen him, hadn't I? But now, in the cold aftermath
of the crash, I wasn't so sure. Had I really
seen someone, or had the storm and the darkness played
tricks on me. Gingerly, I reached up and touched my forehead,
(18:15):
wincing as my fingers brushed a tender spot. I was bleeding,
just a small cut, but it added to the growing
sense of panic that was building inside me. I needed
to get out of the car, needed to see if
the man was still out there. I fumbled with the
seat belt, my hands shaking, and finally managed to unclip it.
The car door groaned as I pushed it open, the
(18:37):
rain immediately soaking me to the skin. I stepped out,
my legs unsteady beneath me, and looked around.
Speaker 2 (18:43):
The road was.
Speaker 1 (18:44):
Empty, no sign of the man in white, no sign
of anything really, just the trees looming on either side
of the road, their branches swaying in the wind. I
walked around the front of the car, the headlights casting
long shadows across the wet ground. The front bumper was smashed,
the hood crumpled from the impact, but it wasn't as
bad as it could have been. I'd been lucky. I
(19:06):
realized that I hadn't been going faster. Still, the car
was stuck half in the ditch, the tires spinning uselessly
in the mud.
Speaker 2 (19:14):
I pulled out my phone, hoping to call for help,
but of course there was no.
Speaker 1 (19:17):
Signal, not out here, in the middle of nowhere, in
the middle of a storm. I cursed under my breath,
shoving the phone back into my pocket. I stood there,
my mind reeling. Had I really seen him? Or was
I losing my mind? The rain was still pouring down,
the wind still howling, but I barely noticed. I was
too shaken, too confused to care about anything else. All
(19:41):
I knew was that I had to get out of there,
had to get away from whatever it was I had
just encountered. I stumbled back to the car, my hands
trembling as I fumbled for the door handle.
Speaker 2 (19:50):
I had to get out of here, had to get home.
But as I reached for the door, I heard.
Speaker 1 (19:55):
A sound close, like something was moving through the trees,
coming to toward me. I spun around, my heart leaping
into my throat. But it wasn't the man in white.
It was my father. I was so shaken that I
hadn't even noticed his car coming. Dad, I cried out,
relief flooding through me. He was soaked to the bone,
his clothes plastered to his body, but I didn't care.
(20:18):
He was here. I wasn't alone anymore. Are you okay,
he called back, hurrying over to me.
Speaker 2 (20:23):
What happened?
Speaker 1 (20:24):
I saw your car. I cut him off, my words
tumbling out in a rush.
Speaker 2 (20:29):
There was a man. He was in the road. I crashed.
He was here, Dad, He was right here.
Speaker 1 (20:35):
My father's brow furrowed as he looked around, his gaze
sweeping over the trees, the road, the empty space where
the man in white had been.
Speaker 2 (20:41):
I don't see anyone, he said, his voice calm but cautious.
Speaker 1 (20:45):
Are you sure. I'm sure, I insisted, my voice shaking.
He was right there, I swear. My father looked at
me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. Okay,
he said, his voice steady. Let's get you out of here.
We'll figure this out later. He helped me into his truck,
and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.
(21:07):
The storm was still raging outside, but inside the truck
it felt like a different world, warm and dry. I
kept looking out the window, half expecting to see the
man in white standing by the side of the road,
but he was gone, just like before. It was like
he had never been there. Maybe it was a spirit,
my father said quietly, after a long pause. You hear
(21:29):
stories out here in the country about things that walk
the roads at night, especially during storms, lost souls looking
for something or someone. I shivered, the thought, sending a
chill down my spine. I didn't want to believe it,
didn't want to think that what I had seen was
something other than human. But the more I thought about it,
the more it made sense. There was something otherworldly about
(21:53):
the man in white, something that didn't belong in this world.
That night, I couldn't sleep at all. When the morning came,
I got a call from the police. They had found
my car still stuck in the ditch where I had
left it. They asked me to come down to the station,
said they had some questions. When I arrived, the officer
in charge showed me a picture. It was of the
(22:13):
man in white, just as I had described him, pale, gaunt,
dressed in old fashioned clothes that looked like they belonged
in another century. Do you recognize this man, the officer asked.
I nodded, my throat dry. That's him, I said, that's
the man I saw. The officer exchanged a look with
his partner, then turned back to me. We've been getting
(22:36):
reports about him for years, he said, his voice low.
People see him on the road, usually during storms, but
no one's ever been able to find him. Not alive anyway,
What do you mean, I asked, a chill running down
my spine. The officer hesitated, then handed me a newspaper clipping,
yellowed with age. The headlines had a jolt of fear
through me. Local man found dead in storm, dressed in white,
(23:00):
missing for days. I stared at the clipping, my mind reeling.
The date was from over fifty years ago. The man
in the picture was the same one I had seen
on the road, the same one who had caused me
to crash, who had watched me with those cold, dark eyes.
We don't know what he wants, the officer said, quietly,
But people say he's looking for something or someone. I
(23:24):
left the station in a daze, the newspaper clipping clutched
in my hand. The storm had cleared the sky a bright,
cloudless blue.
Speaker 2 (23:31):
But I couldn't shake the cold that had settled over me.
Speaker 1 (23:34):
I still drive that road sometimes, but never at night,
never during a storm, And every time I passed the
spot where I crashed, I think about the man in white,
about what he might be looking for, and I pray
that I never find out
Moving into a new place always comes with a mix
of excitement and anxiety. There's the thrill of starting fresh,
of making a space your own, but there's also the
stress of unpacking, settling in, and adjusting to unfamiliar surroundings.
Speaker 2 (00:22):
For me, the move was supposed to be a new beginning.
Speaker 1 (00:25):
I was ready to leave the city behind, to trade
the noise and chaos for peace and quiet. The house
itself was charming in its way, with tall windows and
a large yard. It had been sitting empty for a while,
the previous owners having moved out suddenly, but that didn't
bother me. The rent was cheap and the neighborhood was quiet,
(00:45):
just what I needed. The first few days were a
whirlwind of unpacking and getting settled. I spent most of
my time arranging furniture, hanging pictures, and trying to make
the place feel like home. The house was drafty, with
the kind of chill that seeps into your bones. I
figured once I got the heater going, it would warm up.
(01:05):
The only part of the house I didn't like was
the basement. It was a typical old house basement, dark,
damp and musty, with low ceilings and crumbling concrete. Walls,
the stairs leading down were steep and narrow, and the
single light bulb that hung from the ceiling flickered ominously
whenever it was turned on.
Speaker 2 (01:24):
I had only gone down there once to check out the.
Speaker 1 (01:26):
Space, and I didn't plan on going back unless I
absolutely had to. It gave me the creeps, but I
tried not to think too much about it, After all,
basements were supposed to be creepy. Right that night, as
I sat in the living room, surrounded by half unpacked boxes, the.
Speaker 2 (01:43):
First storm rolled in.
Speaker 1 (01:45):
It was one of those sudden summer storms, the sky
darkening in an instant, the wind picking up, and then
the rain pouring down in sheets. I watched from the
window as lightning lit up the sky. I had always
loved storms, the power, the raw energy of them. They
were Nature's way of reminding us how small we really are.
Speaker 2 (02:04):
But there was something different about this one. Maybe it
was the new.
Speaker 1 (02:08):
House, the unfamiliar surroundings, or maybe it was just my nerves.
But as the storm raged on, a sense of unease
began to settle over me. It started with a noise,
a low, rhythmic thumping that seemed to echo through the house.
At first, I thought it was just the wind, or
maybe something outside being tossed.
Speaker 2 (02:27):
Around by the storm.
Speaker 1 (02:28):
But as I listened, I realized it was coming from
inside the house. I stood up, my heart beginning to
race as I tried to pinpoint the source of the sound.
It was coming from below, from the basement. I hesitated
a not a fear tightening in my stomach. I didn't
want to go down there, didn't want to face whatever
might be causing that noise.
Speaker 2 (02:49):
But I couldn't just ignore it.
Speaker 1 (02:51):
The rational part of my brain told me it was
probably just a loose pipe, or maybe the old furnace
acting up.
Speaker 2 (02:58):
I needed to check it out.
Speaker 1 (03:00):
I grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and made
my way to the basement door. It creaked open, revealing
the steep stairs descending into darkness. The thumping noise was louder, now,
echoing up from below like the steady.
Speaker 2 (03:14):
Beat of a drum.
Speaker 1 (03:15):
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves,
and started down the stairs, the flashlight beam cutting through
the darkness. The air grew colder with each step, the
musty smell of the basement wrapping around me like a shroud.
The noise grew louder, more insistent, as if something was
waiting for me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs,
I shone the flashlight around the room, trying to locate
(03:38):
the source of the sound.
Speaker 2 (03:39):
The basement was just as I remembered it.
Speaker 1 (03:42):
Dark, damp, and cluttered with old, forgotten junk left behind
by previous tenants. The walls were stained with age, the
concrete floor uneven and cracked. And there at the far
end of the room was a door I hadn't noticed before.
It was small, barely more than a crawl space, and
it was locked with a heavy, rusted padlock. The thumping
(04:03):
was coming from behind that door, a steady, relentless.
Speaker 2 (04:06):
Rhythm that sent chills down my spine.
Speaker 1 (04:09):
I stood there, frozen, the flashlight beam trembling in my hand,
But there was a part of me that couldn't bear
not knowing what was causing the noise, and that drove
me forward. I took a step closer to the door,
the sound of my own breathing loud in my ears.
The thumping continued, a slow, deliberate beat, like a heart,
pounding against the walls. I reached out, my hand, shaking
(04:32):
as I touched the cold metal of the padlock. It
was old, rusted, but solid, the kind of lock that
hadn't been opened in years. And then suddenly the thumping stopped.
I froze, the silence pressing in around me like a weight.
The only sound was the rain pounding against the ground outside,
the wind howling.
Speaker 2 (04:51):
Through the trees.
Speaker 1 (04:52):
My heart was racing, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
Speaker 2 (04:56):
I couldn't stay down there any longer. I turned and ran.
Speaker 1 (04:59):
Up the stairs, not stopping until I had slammed the
basement door shut behind me. I stood there, my back
against the door, trying to catch my breath, trying to
convince myself that it was just my imagination that there
was nothing down there, But deep down I knew that
wasn't true. The next day, I couldn't stop thinking about
(05:21):
the basement. The storm had passed, leaving behind a bright,
clear morning, but the unease lingered. I tried to go
about my day, focusing on unpacking and organizing.
Speaker 2 (05:30):
But the thought of that locked door, of whatever.
Speaker 1 (05:33):
Had been making that noise nagged at me. I knew
I had to go back down there. I had to
know what was behind that door. I waited until the afternoon,
when the sun was high in the sky and the
house was bathed in warm, comforting light. It was easier
to face the basement in the daylight, easier to convince myself.
Speaker 2 (05:53):
That there was nothing to be afraid of.
Speaker 1 (05:56):
I grabbed the flashlight again, along with a crowbar I
had found in.
Speaker 2 (05:59):
The garage, and made my way back to the basement.
Speaker 1 (06:02):
The stairs creaked under my weight, the air growing colder
with each step, but I forced myself to keep going.
When I reached the bottom, the basement was just as
dark and musty as before, but the thumping noise was gone.
Speaker 2 (06:16):
The silence was almost worse.
Speaker 1 (06:17):
Though thick and oppressive. I made my way to the
lock door, my heart pounding in my chest. The padlock
was still there, old and rusted, but I was determined
to get it open. I wedged the crowbar under the
lock and began to pry the metal, groaning. It took
longer than I expected, the old locks stubbornly refusing to
give way, but finally, with a loud snap, it broke free.
(06:40):
The door creaked open, revealing a narrow, dark passageway that
led deeper into the basement. I hesitated, shining the flashlight
into the darkness. The air was colder here, the musty
smell more intense. The passageway was barely wide enough for
me to squeeze through, the walls closing in around me.
As I stepped inside, I moved slowly, the flashlight beam
(07:01):
trembling in my hand.
Speaker 2 (07:03):
The passageway seemed to go on forever. I could feel my.
Speaker 1 (07:06):
Heart pounding in my chest, the fear building with each step.
And then at the end of the passageway I saw
it a small, dimly lit room, the walls lined with old,
decaying wood. In the center of the room was a
single chair, and sitting in that chair was a figure,
slumped over and still. I stopped, my breath catching in
my throat. The figure was small, almost childlike. Its head bowed,
(07:30):
its hands resting limply in its lap. The clothes were old, tattered,
and covered in dust, as if they had been there
for years. I stepped closer, my heart racing, the fear
clawing at my chest. I could see the figure more
clearly now, a young girl, no more than eight or
nine years old, her hair matted and tangled, her skin
pale and lifeless. I wanted to run, wanted to get
(07:52):
as far away from that room as possible, but.
Speaker 2 (07:54):
I couldn't move.
Speaker 1 (07:56):
I was rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on
the girl's face, on the hollow, empty eyes that stared
back at me, and then, to my horror, she moved,
her head, lifted, her eyes meeting mine, and a slow,
eerie smile spread across her face. Her lips parted, and
in a voice that was barely more than a whisper,
she spoke, why did you leave me? I stumbled back,
(08:19):
the flashlight slipping from my grasp and clattering to the floor.
The room was plunged into darkness, and I could feel
the cold, clammy air closing in around me, the sound
of her voice echoing in my ears. I turned and ran, blindly,
groping my way back through the passageway, my heart hounding
in my chest. I could hear her behind me, the
soft sound of footsteps, the whisper of her voice growing
(08:42):
louder closer.
Speaker 2 (08:43):
Why did you leave me?
Speaker 1 (08:45):
I burst out of the passageway and raced up the stairs,
slamming the basement door shut behind me. I didn't stop
until I was outside, the bright sunlight blinding me. As
I stumbled into the yard, I leaned against the side
of the house, gasping for breath, my mind reeling what
had I just seen?
Speaker 2 (09:02):
Was it real? Or was it some.
Speaker 1 (09:04):
Twisted figment of my imagination brought on by the fear
and the darkness of the basement. But deep down I
knew it was real. I knew that the girl in
the basement was real, and that she was still down there.
The days that followed were a blur of fear and confusion.
I couldn't stop thinking about the girl in the basement,
couldn't stop hearing her voice in my head, that haunting
(09:26):
question that echoed in my mind, Why did you leave me?
I couldn't stay in the house anymore. The fear was
too much, the sense of dread too overwhelming. I started
sleeping in my car, parked in the driveway, too afraid.
Speaker 2 (09:40):
To go back inside.
Speaker 1 (09:42):
But even then I couldn't escape her. The fear followed me,
gnawing at my mind, driving me to the brink of madness.
I knew I had to leave, had to get as
far away from that house as possible, but there.
Speaker 2 (09:55):
Was something that kept pulling me back, something that wouldn't
let me go.
Speaker 1 (09:59):
It was like the house itself had a hold on me,
like the girl in the basement was calling out to me,
begging me to stay. And then one night, as I
sat in my car, trying to will myself to drive away,
I heard it again, the thumping noise, faint but unmistakable,
coming from the basement.
Speaker 2 (10:16):
I couldn't ignore it any longer.
Speaker 1 (10:18):
I had to know what was going on, had to
confront whatever was down there once and for all. I
grabbed the flashlight and made my way back into the house,
my heart pounding in my chest. The basement door creaked
open and I descended into the darkness. The air was
colder than ever, the musty smell almost suffocating. The thumping
noise grew louder as I reached the bottom, echoing through
(10:41):
the room like the beating of a drum. I made
my way to the passageway, the flashlight beam trembling in
my hand. The door was still open, the darkness inside
beckoning me forward. I stepped into the passageway, my breath
catching in my throat as I made my way.
Speaker 2 (10:57):
To the room.
Speaker 1 (10:57):
At the end, the girl was still there, sitting in
the chair, her eyes fixed on me. The eerie smile
was gone, replaced by an expression of sadness, of longing.
Her voice was soft, almost pleading, as she spoke, why did.
Speaker 2 (11:11):
You leave me? I couldn't move, couldn't speak.
Speaker 1 (11:14):
The fear had taken hold, paralyzing me. As I stood
there staring at her. She slowly stood up. Why did
you leave me? She repeated, her voice growing louder, more insistent.
Why did you leave me? I wanted to scream, to run,
but I was rooted to the spot, unable to tear
my eyes away from her. She took a step forward,
then another, her hollow eyes locked on mine, and then,
(11:37):
with a desperate effort, I turned and ran, the sound
of her voice echoing in my ears, the darkness closing
in around me. I didn't stop until I was outside,
the cold night air biting at my skin, the fear
still gnawing at my mind. I knew I couldn't stay
there any longer. I had to leave, had to get
as far away from that house as possible. I grabbed
(11:58):
what little I could carry and drove away, the fear
still gripping me, the girl's voice still echoing in my mind.
Speaker 2 (12:05):
I never went back. I couldn't.
Speaker 1 (12:07):
The house was sold, and I moved on, trying to
put the past behind me. But no matter how far
I ran, I could never escape the memory of the
girl in the basement, the fear that still haunted me.
And sometimes late at night, when the world is quiet
and the darkness presses in, I can still hear her
voice calling out to me, why did you leave me?
(12:38):
Driving at night has always been something I've enjoyed. There's
something peaceful about it, the way the world quiets down,
the road's empty except for the occasional passing car. It's
like the darkness brings a sense of calm that daylight
never could. So when the storm started.
Speaker 2 (12:54):
That evening, I didn't think much of it. I'd driven
through worse.
Speaker 1 (13:00):
I was on my way home from my parents' place,
a trip I made at least once a month. The
route was familiar country roads, winding through miles of open
fields and dense woods, the kind of roads that felt
secluded even during the day. At night, especially with a
storm rolling in, they could feel downright desolate. The first
rain drops splattered against my windshield as I pulled onto
(13:21):
the main road, the sky a deep, bruised gray. I
turned on the wipers, listening to the rhythmic thump as
they swept the water away. The storm was picking up quickly,
the rain coming down harder, the wind buffeting the car.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, growing louder with each passing minute.
I drove on my headlights, illuminating the darkness ahead, the
(13:43):
road barely visible in the downpour.
Speaker 2 (13:46):
I knew these roads.
Speaker 1 (13:47):
Well, every curve, every bump, but the storm had a
way of making even the most familiar places feel strange,
almost menacing. It was about halfway home when I saw him.
The rain was coming down in sheets so thick it
was like driving through a waterfall. I was focused on
the road, trying to keep my car from sliding on
the slick pavement, when a flash of lightning lit up
(14:09):
the sky. In that brief, blinding moment, I saw him,
a man standing in the middle of the road, dressed
entirely in white. My heart leaped into my throat and
I slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as they
fought for traction. The car swerved, and for a terrifying second,
I thought I was going to lose control, But then miraculously,
(14:31):
the tires caught and the cars getted to a stop
just inches away from where the man had been standing.
I sat there, gripping the steering wheel, my breath coming
in short, panicked gasps. The rain was pounding on the roof,
the sound deafening, but all I could think about was
the man I had almost hit. I couldn't see him anymore.
The darkness and the rain had swallowed him up. Who
(14:55):
the hell would be out here in the middle of
a storm, wearing all white, just standing in the road.
The question echoed in my mind, but there was no answer,
just the relentless pounding of the rain. Slowly, I released
my grip on the steering wheel and peered through the windshield,
squinting into the darkness. The road ahead was empty, the
man in white nowhere to be seen. I should have
(15:17):
felt relieved, but instead a chill ran down my spine,
the kind of cold that settles.
Speaker 2 (15:22):
Deep in your bones. Maybe he had.
Speaker 1 (15:25):
Moved off the road, I thought, maybe he was just
some poor soul who got caught in the storm and
was trying to find shelter. But if that were true,
why hadn't I seen him move. It was like he
had just vanished into thin air. I shook my head,
trying to shake off the unease that had settled over me.
I couldn't just sit there all night. I needed to
(15:45):
get home. With one last glance at the empty road,
I put the car back in gear and slowly started
driving again, my hands still trembling on the wheel, but
I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. Seemed
louder now, the wind more insistent, like it was trying
to tell me something. I kept checking the rear view mirror,
(16:06):
half expecting to see the man in white standing behind me.
Speaker 2 (16:09):
But the road was empty, just the way it should be.
Speaker 1 (16:12):
But deep down I knew something wasn't right, and it
was about to get a lot worse.
Speaker 2 (16:18):
I was almost home, just a few miles to go
when it happened. The storm was at.
Speaker 1 (16:23):
Its peak now, the wind howling like a living thing,
the rain so heavy it was like driving through a
curtain of water. I had to slow down, the car
barely crawling along as I tried to see the road ahead.
Speaker 2 (16:35):
That's when I saw him again.
Speaker 1 (16:37):
It was just a flicker of movement at first, a
pale shape darting across the road, barely visible through the rain.
My heart skipped a beat, and I slammed on the
brakes again, my mind racing. I had seen him.
Speaker 2 (16:49):
Hadn't I?
Speaker 1 (16:51):
The man in white running across the road. I peered
through the windshield, my breath fogging up the glass. For
a moment, everything was still, the only the relentless drumming
of the rain. But then out of the corner of
my eye, I saw him, a flash of white, darting
on the side of the road. Hannocks surged through me,
and I yanked the wheel to the side, trying to
(17:12):
avoid him. The tires skidded on the wet pavement, and
the car spun out of control. I felt the world tilt,
the headlights sweeping across the trees in a dizzying blur,
and then, with a sickening crunch, the car slammed into
something solid. The impact knocked the breath out of me,
the seat belt cutting into.
Speaker 2 (17:31):
My chest as I was thrown forward.
Speaker 1 (17:34):
For a moment, everything went dark, the world reduced to
the sound of my own ragged breathing and the rain
hammering on the roof. When I opened my eyes, I
was slumped over the steering wheel, my head pounding, my
vision blurry. The car had come to a stop, half
on the road, half in the ditch, the front end
crumpled against a tree. I sat there for a moment,
(17:55):
trying to catch my breath, trying to make sense of
what had just happened. The man in white I had
seen him, hadn't I? But now, in the cold aftermath
of the crash, I wasn't so sure. Had I really
seen someone, or had the storm and the darkness played
tricks on me. Gingerly, I reached up and touched my forehead,
(18:15):
wincing as my fingers brushed a tender spot. I was bleeding,
just a small cut, but it added to the growing
sense of panic that was building inside me. I needed
to get out of the car, needed to see if
the man was still out there. I fumbled with the
seat belt, my hands shaking, and finally managed to unclip it.
The car door groaned as I pushed it open, the
(18:37):
rain immediately soaking me to the skin. I stepped out,
my legs unsteady beneath me, and looked around.
Speaker 2 (18:43):
The road was.
Speaker 1 (18:44):
Empty, no sign of the man in white, no sign
of anything really, just the trees looming on either side
of the road, their branches swaying in the wind. I
walked around the front of the car, the headlights casting
long shadows across the wet ground. The front bumper was smashed,
the hood crumpled from the impact, but it wasn't as
bad as it could have been. I'd been lucky. I
(19:06):
realized that I hadn't been going faster. Still, the car
was stuck half in the ditch, the tires spinning uselessly
in the mud.
Speaker 2 (19:14):
I pulled out my phone, hoping to call for help,
but of course there was no.
Speaker 1 (19:17):
Signal, not out here, in the middle of nowhere, in
the middle of a storm. I cursed under my breath,
shoving the phone back into my pocket. I stood there,
my mind reeling. Had I really seen him? Or was
I losing my mind? The rain was still pouring down,
the wind still howling, but I barely noticed. I was
too shaken, too confused to care about anything else. All
(19:41):
I knew was that I had to get out of there,
had to get away from whatever it was I had
just encountered. I stumbled back to the car, my hands
trembling as I fumbled for the door handle.
Speaker 2 (19:50):
I had to get out of here, had to get home.
But as I reached for the door, I heard.
Speaker 1 (19:55):
A sound close, like something was moving through the trees,
coming to toward me. I spun around, my heart leaping
into my throat. But it wasn't the man in white.
It was my father. I was so shaken that I
hadn't even noticed his car coming. Dad, I cried out,
relief flooding through me. He was soaked to the bone,
his clothes plastered to his body, but I didn't care.
(20:18):
He was here. I wasn't alone anymore. Are you okay,
he called back, hurrying over to me.
Speaker 2 (20:23):
What happened?
Speaker 1 (20:24):
I saw your car. I cut him off, my words
tumbling out in a rush.
Speaker 2 (20:29):
There was a man. He was in the road. I crashed.
He was here, Dad, He was right here.
Speaker 1 (20:35):
My father's brow furrowed as he looked around, his gaze
sweeping over the trees, the road, the empty space where
the man in white had been.
Speaker 2 (20:41):
I don't see anyone, he said, his voice calm but cautious.
Speaker 1 (20:45):
Are you sure. I'm sure, I insisted, my voice shaking.
He was right there, I swear. My father looked at
me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. Okay,
he said, his voice steady. Let's get you out of here.
We'll figure this out later. He helped me into his truck,
and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.
(21:07):
The storm was still raging outside, but inside the truck
it felt like a different world, warm and dry. I
kept looking out the window, half expecting to see the
man in white standing by the side of the road,
but he was gone, just like before. It was like
he had never been there. Maybe it was a spirit,
my father said quietly, after a long pause. You hear
(21:29):
stories out here in the country about things that walk
the roads at night, especially during storms, lost souls looking
for something or someone. I shivered, the thought, sending a
chill down my spine. I didn't want to believe it,
didn't want to think that what I had seen was
something other than human. But the more I thought about it,
the more it made sense. There was something otherworldly about
(21:53):
the man in white, something that didn't belong in this world.
That night, I couldn't sleep at all. When the morning came,
I got a call from the police. They had found
my car still stuck in the ditch where I had
left it. They asked me to come down to the station,
said they had some questions. When I arrived, the officer
in charge showed me a picture. It was of the
(22:13):
man in white, just as I had described him, pale, gaunt,
dressed in old fashioned clothes that looked like they belonged
in another century. Do you recognize this man, the officer asked.
I nodded, my throat dry. That's him, I said, that's
the man I saw. The officer exchanged a look with
his partner, then turned back to me. We've been getting
(22:36):
reports about him for years, he said, his voice low.
People see him on the road, usually during storms, but
no one's ever been able to find him. Not alive anyway,
What do you mean, I asked, a chill running down
my spine. The officer hesitated, then handed me a newspaper clipping,
yellowed with age. The headlines had a jolt of fear
through me. Local man found dead in storm, dressed in white,
(23:00):
missing for days. I stared at the clipping, my mind reeling.
The date was from over fifty years ago. The man
in the picture was the same one I had seen
on the road, the same one who had caused me
to crash, who had watched me with those cold, dark eyes.
We don't know what he wants, the officer said, quietly,
But people say he's looking for something or someone. I
(23:24):
left the station in a daze, the newspaper clipping clutched
in my hand. The storm had cleared the sky a bright,
cloudless blue.
Speaker 2 (23:31):
But I couldn't shake the cold that had settled over me.
Speaker 1 (23:34):
I still drive that road sometimes, but never at night,
never during a storm, And every time I passed the
spot where I crashed, I think about the man in white,
about what he might be looking for, and I pray
that I never find out
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