The landlord said it was “just the pipes.” The pipes started spelling words…
Hey night owl,
Welcome to Nightmare Nook Files.
Here’s how this works:
Most nights, I send you a short case file — part true account, part reconstructed detail — about something that doesn’t sit right in the daylight.
You read it.
You decide if it’s explainable… or if something’s wrong with the story.
CASE FILE 001: THE KNOCK FROM INSIDE THE WALL
The first night, Jenna thought it was the upstairs neighbor.
Three slow knocks, spaced out, right behind the living room wall.
thunk
…
thunk
…
thunk
She muted the TV and waited for a fourth. Nothing. Just the hum of the fridge and the faint traffic outside her Portland apartment.
Old building, old pipes. Easy enough to ignore.
Until the second night.
Same time — 11:37 p.m.
Same wall.
Same three knocks.
She walked over and pressed her palm flat against the paint. Cool plaster. No vibration, no rattling, no obvious source.
“Probably the radiators,” her landlord said over the phone. “They do that in winter. Don’t worry about it.”
It was October. The heat wasn’t on.
Night three, Jenna decided to test it.
When the first knock came, she knocked back.
Three times, matching the rhythm.
Silence.
She laughed at herself — a little too loud — and turned back toward the couch.
thunk… thunk… thunk… thunk
Four knocks this time.
Closer together. Impatient.
She moved the furniture the next day. Couch to the opposite wall. Bookshelves against the knocking side. If it was in her head, fine. If it wasn’t, at least she wouldn’t feel it over her shoulder.
Night four: 11:37 p.m.
The wall behind the new couch knocked.
Same pattern. Same stretch of plaster. Different side of the room.
That was the first night she didn’t sleep.
By the end of the week, it wasn’t just knocks.
She started hearing a faint scraping between the studs, like someone dragging a ring along the inside of the drywall. Whenever she pressed her ear to the wall, it stopped — like whatever was inside was listening back.
She called maintenance. A bored guy in a polo came out with a flashlight and a moisture meter.
“No leaks, no pests,” he said, tapping the meter. “It’s probably just expansion and contraction. These walls are basically cardboard.”
Jenna almost believed him… until he moved his hand.
Where he’d been leaning, the wall had picked up a faint pattern of grease and dust.
Four vertical lines.
One diagonal, slashing through them.
Not random streaks.
Tally marks.
That night, she didn’t wait for 11:37.
She was halfway down the stairwell with a suitcase when she heard it again, muffled through the floor:
thunk
…
thunk
…
thunk
Followed by a new sound she’d never heard before:
Her own phone vibrating in her pocket, with a text from an unknown number:
DON’T LEAVE ME IN HERE
And that’s where the official record stops.
She turned in her keys. The unit is listed as “currently vacant.”
No one at the building will talk about why the drywall in that apartment was replaced in the middle of the night.
The work order just says:
“Noise complaint. Wall opened. No source found.”
Your Turn
If this landed in your inbox, the shadows are listening.
Hit reply and tell me:
– What do you think was in the wall?
– Would you have opened it… or moved out like Jenna?
I’ll feature the best theories in a future case file.
Until then, don’t tap back if something knocks first.
— Jake
Nightmare Nook Files
P.S. Know someone who loves creepy, unexplained stories? Forward this email to them. When they’re ready, they can join the list at nightmarenookfiles.com.