Midnight Home Horror Stories 1
I was house-sitting for my grandma one weekend while she went to Florida with some of her church friends. I was sleeping in the guest bedroom next to her room. The guest bedroom always had two twin beds inside of it that my brother and I would sleep in when we had sleepovers at her house. I took the bed next to the window, but before getting into bed, I checked all the doors, making sure they were locked. When I did get into bed, it was early, and I didn't actually go to sleep for a while. There wasn't much to do at my grandma's house. I was just on my phone for an hour, watching videos, texting people, whatever. That's when I thought I could start hearing someone's voice outside. It sounded like a woman's voice saying, "Hello."
I left the bedroom and inched my way closer to the front door, moving slow because I was trying to listen. It was a woman's voice just going, "Hello," like every ten seconds. As I got closer to the front door, I realized that's where it seemed to be coming from. My grandma's door doesn't have a peephole, but the windows in her dining room gave a clear view of the front porch, so I went over to that window to attempt to get a view of who was out there. I tried peeking my head in between the plastic blinds without making it obvious, but I guess I didn't do a good job of that because when I looked, I did see a woman on my grandma's stoop, and she was looking right at me as if she knew I was going to be looking through those blinds. Once again, she said, "Hello," with some freakish smile on her face. This woman was older, but don't picture her as some innocent-looking small old lady. She looked like she was maybe late 50s, early 60s, and something about her face just skeeved me out.
I moved away from the window and thought maybe it was one of my grandma's friends. It was midnight, though. Why would anyone come to the door thusly? Why wouldn't she knock or ring the bell? Why was she just standing out there going, "Hello," over and over? I was genuinely unsettled. I just went back to the guest bedroom and shut the door. Now with the door shut, as opposed to before, I couldn't hear that woman anymore. Maybe she just decided to leave. I started texting everyone about it, my sisters, my friends, telling them how bizarre it was. But a good amount of time passed in silence, and I was starting to calm down. My sisters were telling me to call grandma, but there was a 0% chance she was awake, and she barely ever even checked her cell phone anyway.
Just like that, something broke the silence: a banging at the window. Not a knocking or tapping, but banging. I felt that fierce pain in my chest area as my body entered that fight-or-flight mode. Shortly after the banging stops, I heard that familiar voice say, "Hello." With that boost of adrenaline, I guess I had the extra confidence to grab the blinds and push it up. There I was, face to face with this horrifying older lady with only a thin layer of glass between us. I screamed at her smiling, gross face, "I'm calling the cops!"
I pulled the blind back down and ran back outside to the living room. I looked around the house, then ran upstairs to box myself into the upstairs guest bedroom. I didn't want to actually call the cops. I don't know why. I wanted to just wait it out. I crawled into the bed in the upstairs guest bedroom and tucked myself under the covers. A couple of hours later, I was still awake, and I finally, only then, went back downstairs to look outside each window. That freaky old lady seemed to be gone.
The next morning, I called my grandma and told her what happened. She started yelling into the phone, clearly panicking and distressed. She told me how a few days earlier, she was being watched in the grocery store by some woman about 10 years younger than her who just kept smiling at her for no reason. I told her to calm down. I didn't entirely know whether to correlate the two or not, but when we eventually got off the phone with each other, I did have to give it a second thought. My grandma is 75. She has lost a bit of her wits, so I do have to take some of the things she says with a grain of salt. But the way she yelled into the phone about the woman in the store really gave me the chills.
I still wonder if it could have been the same person.
Midnight Home Horror Stories 2
"My name is Nicolas. I'm currently a freshman at Syracuse University, which doesn't exactly sit in the safest area. They just went through a breakup with my first girlfriend, so I started getting back into the online dating scene. I was using that Hinge when I found some blonde girl named Stephanie who I really connected with. She also went to Syracuse. We both like to read, go to the movies; we even had the same sense of humor. I suggested we go on a movie date, and she said she'd love to. She told me to meet her at some specific point near campus, and she'd pick me up.
So around 9 o'clock, I waited on some corner of a normal neighborhood block, waiting for Stephanie. She asked me to share my location with her, and so I did. A few minutes later, I saw a car turn down the street and start approaching me. Then it stopped in front of me, and the driver rolled down the window. It wasn't Stephanie though, but some old random guy.
'Yes, what I was doing alone out here?' which was insanely weird. First of all, that I said I was waiting for someone. He asked if I was waiting for Stephanie, and I said, 'Yeah, how'd you know?' He said he was Stephanie's father and told me to hop in so he could give me a ride to her. I took a good look at him, and he looked a little old to be her father, to be honest. I'm no idiot when it comes to sketchy situations, so I said in a firm voice, 'Why didn't you tell me you'd be picking me up?' He claimed he didn't trust a random guy meeting up with his daughter and wanted to meet me first. I took another good look at the man and didn't say anything. I simply started walking away in the opposite direction from where his car was facing. He started yelling, 'Hey, hey,' sounding surprised that I was just walking away like that. But I've heard way too many kidnapping stories to know where this could potentially go.
I heard the guy's car moving, and I turned to make sure he wasn't doing a U-turn to follow me. I breathed a sigh of relief when he drove straight and turned left out of sight. I continued walking down the block towards campus. I got to the corner of the block; I was just about to make a turn when I noticed what I was pretty sure to be the same car the man was driving, just parked on the side of the road with the lights shut off. I briefly tried looking into the window as I passed, but the glass was tinted. I tried not making it obvious that I was suspicious and continued walking. I got a text from the so-called Stephanie person saying, 'Why didn't you get in the car with my dad?' I ignored the text and continued walking. I kept looking back to see if the car would move. When he got to an intersection in the road, I turned right and then full-on booked it in the direction of campus. Surprisingly, I wasn't followed.
I made it back to campus, out of breath, started walking to my dorm building. I felt like I heard footsteps following you, though I thought maybe I was being paranoid when I heard a piece of broken glass being kicked by someone's shoe. I knew I was being tailed. I made a point of ducking down behind a van and stopping to give me time to listen for where the footsteps were coming. They were a few cars away from me, and I remembered I never stopped sharing my location with Stephanie, or should I say, that man.
I saw him, he was that old man. He was approaching from between two cars across from me. He yelled something that I didn't fully understand, but it sounded like he said, 'Come back, and I'll take you to her.' He had to be like 60 something; there's no way he would catch me if I sprinted. I lost him easily when I ran and made it back to my dorm room. My roommate wasn't there, so I had no one to talk to about it. But when I laid my bed, I got another text from that man, and it was shocking. It said, 'You're a little piece of [ __ ] [ __ ]. You're lucky you got away. I would have strangled your ugly ass.' I still have the screenshot. I replied saying, 'Thanks for the threat. It's going straight to the police,' and I blocked his number. I still have the conversation saved as evidence, and I plan on going to the police with it eventually. Hopefully, they are able to do something about it.
When I was 18, I had a side job as a part-time janitor at my high school. Over..."
Midnight Home Horror Stories 3
During the summer, I would work sometimes days and sometimes nights, anywhere from 9 a.m. to 12 a.m., depending on how much money I needed. Oftentimes, I would be left to lock up the building when the older janitors had left. This was a time before the high school had cameras installed in every single hallway. So, one night, one of my superiors, Tom, had to leave early, meaning I'd be finishing up the rest of my shift alone and I'd be locking up for the night. He told me to text him if I needed anything, as he always did, and then he left. I loved it when I was left alone because usually, I'd just do half an hour of work and then just hang around on my phone or leave early and still get paid for the whole shift. I definitely pushed it with the things I got away with at that place.
One of the things Tom asked me to do before leaving was to bring all the extra seats in the gymnasium from the assembly down to the basement storage room. So, I figured I'd do that and then just go home. I grabbed a stack of six chairs and started carrying it down to the basement. The lights in the storage room were very dim; they kind of sucked. The whole basement of that school wasn't exactly pretty; it felt more like a basement to a warehouse. Anyway, there were what appeared to be a bunch of art mannequins covered by paint cloths, you know, those big things that look like blankets. It seemed all the school's art supplies were stored down there.
I dropped the stack of chairs down where the rest of the chairs were stored and went back up to the gym to get more. When I came back down with more chairs, I noticed one of the mannequins was exposed. Now, the blanket was removed from on top of it. I know for sure it was covered minutes earlier because it was one of the front ones. I texted Tom saying, "I think someone's down in the basement." He said back, "What do you mean?" And I said, "One of the art cloths were moved." He took a minute to respond, saying no one else should be there. And I noticed something: the art cloth tucked in the corner of the storage room, sitting outside of the light that was produced at the center of the room. It was covering something, surely. I started to tiptoe over to it. When I was a few feet away from it, I realized whatever was under that cloth, it was moving just ever so slightly. There was undoubtedly someone hiding under there. I ran back upstairs and locked the basement door. I texted Tom saying, "Someone is hiding under a cloth in the basement." He said, "Call the cops," but I insisted he just come back since he only just left like 10 minutes ago. He didn't want to come back though. He told me to be a man and confront whoever was down there. So, I went back into the basement again. However, the cloth was now strewn flat on the floor, and whoever was hiding under there was gone.
But possibly the scariest thing was yet to happen. As I stood in the storage room, there were loud metallic thumps coming from above my head. I looked up and saw indents slowly forming in the large air vents above me. Someone was crawling through the main duct, then just stopped literally above me and that bangs, bangs like whoever was in there was trying to break open the floor of the air vents. And he know what was happening, but I was officially done with this. I ran up the stairs, locked up the school, and went home. I told Tom the partial truth the next day, but I said I thought I saw someone in the corner, and it was gone when I went back, and I claimed there was nothing else I could say.
They got it was my last week there, so it wasn't my concern anymore.
Midnight Home Horror Stories 4
In the stillness of the midnight hour, when the world was draped in shadows and the only sound was the gentle hum of the night, Clara found herself alone in her ancestral home. It was a sprawling mansion, filled with memories of generations past, yet tonight it felt more ominous than ever before.
As the clock struck twelve, Clara sat in the dimly lit living room, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat in the silence. She had always been fascinated by the old stories her grandmother used to tell her about the house—tales of ghosts wandering the halls and whispers echoing in the dead of night. But Clara had never believed in such things, until now.
A sudden chill swept through the room, causing Clara to shiver involuntarily. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled over her like a heavy blanket. But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that it was just her imagination, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was not alone.
Suddenly, she heard it—a faint scratching sound coming from somewhere in the house. Clara's breath caught in her throat as she strained to listen, her heart racing with fear. The scratching grew louder, closer, until it seemed to be right outside the door.
With trembling hands, Clara reached for her phone, her fingers fumbling over the screen as she tried to dial for help. But when she looked down, the screen was blank—no signal, no connection, nothing but darkness staring back at her.
Panic surged through Clara like a tidal wave as she realized she was truly alone, cut off from the outside world with no way to call for help. She stood frozen in fear, listening to the scratching growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment.
Then, without warning, the scratching stopped. Clara held her breath, her ears straining for any sound, any sign of what might be lurking outside. But all she heard was the pounding of her own heart, echoing in the silence like a drumbeat of dread.
Slowly, cautiously, Clara crept towards the door, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. She hesitated for a moment, then flung the door open with a sudden burst of courage.
But the hallway beyond was empty, bathed in darkness that seemed to swallow the feeble light from the living room. Clara peered into the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched for any sign of movement.
Then, just as she was about to retreat back into the safety of the living room, she saw it—a flicker of movement at the far end of the hallway, barely visible in the dim light.
Clara's blood ran cold as she watched, paralyzed with fear, as a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a woman, dressed in tattered rags that hung loosely from her emaciated frame. Her eyes were hollow pits of darkness, devoid of any spark of life, and her lips were twisted into a grotesque grin that sent shivers down Clara's spine.
For a moment, Clara could only stare in horror as the woman shuffled towards her, her movements jerky and unnatural. Then, with a sudden surge of adrenaline, Clara turned and fled back into the living room, slamming the door shut behind her with trembling hands.
But even as she barricaded herself inside, Clara knew that she was not safe. The woman was still out there, somewhere in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Hours passed in agonizing silence as Clara huddled in the corner of the living room, her eyes darting nervously around the room as she waited for the inevitable. But as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Clara dared to hope that she had imagined the whole thing—that it was nothing more than a trick of the mind, brought on by the eerie atmosphere of the old house.
Just as she was beginning to relax, Clara heard it—the sound of scratching, faint but unmistakable, coming from somewhere outside the room. Her blood turned to ice as she realized that the woman was still out there, still waiting for her, still hungry for her flesh.
With trembling hands, Clara reached for her phone once more, desperate to call for help. But when she looked down at the screen, she saw that it was no longer blank—instead, it was filled with a single message, written in blood-red letters that seemed to glow in the darkness.
"Come and find me," the message read, sending a chill down Clara's spine.
And then, without warning, the lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness. Clara screamed in terror as she felt something cold and clammy wrap itself around her ankle, dragging her towards the door with a strength that seemed inhuman.
Frantically, Clara clawed at the floor, trying to hold on to anything she could find as she was pulled inexorably towards the door. But it was no use—the thing had her in its grip, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
With one final desperate scream, Clara was dragged out of the room and into the darkness beyond, her voice echoing through the empty halls of the midnight house as she disappeared into the night.
And as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the old house stood silent and still once more, its secrets buried deep within its ancient walls, waiting for the next unsuspecting victim to wander into its grasp.