A Drum, A Vacuum Cleaner, And A Key

May 24, 2011

Alright, here’s mine. This happened about ten years ago, and I’m still completely creeped out by it:

Back in my rock star (I wish) days, I had band practice at the guitarist’s house a few nights a week. He and his wife had a cool, older (late 1800’s) home. The place had a stone foundation, blown-glass windows, those neat old wide-plank wood floors. It just plain cool, and that old foundation made it nearly soundproof in the basement. They loved the place–it was an awesome house–but he and his wife thought there was something “off” about it. He drove trucks for a living, so she was there by herself many times and had plenty of stories about weird noises, etc. I thought they were just clever stories to match the house, and sort of shrugged it off to the place being old and creaky.

I’d been practicing with them for years, and we were all good friends. I generally got out of work much earlier than they did, so I’d get there an hour or so before they home, let myself in with the spare key they kept out in the garage, and do a melt-your-face drum solo for a bit to warm up (the basement was cold).

So, just like any other day, I let myself in with the spare key, head down to the basement. I’m down there for a few minutes and get the urge to use the only bathroom, which was up on the second floor. I head up the basement stairs and while I’m passing through the kitchen, I put the key on the counter next to the range as a reminder to myself to put it back in the garage when I left, since it was right by the back door to the garage. I continue on through the living room, and notice the vacuum cleaner right in the middle of walkway between the couch and the wall. Being the nice friend I am, I scoot it over next to the wall to move it out of the way, and start up the stairs to the second floor.

I climb up a few steps and I hear the unmistakable, deep “thump” of the kick drum downstairs through the heater vent in the floor. It was loud, and it was definitely the drum. I felt it in the floor. I freeze on the step for a second…sort of doubting my own ears, and then uneasily shrug it off and head upstairs to do my thing.

The whole time I’m up in the bathroom I’m slowly getting more and more uneasy, like turning up the “weird” dial one click at a time. On the way back down the second floor stairs I started to get really on edge. It just felt strange–like I was walking into a tense situation. Something was just “off”, just like his wife had said. I can’t explain it with physical descriptions–it just felt heavy in the house. Being the practical guy I am, I’m already doubting and pondering whether this was all in my head–when I get the walkway and see the vacuum was back in the same place it had before: In the middle of the floor.

I’m fully fucked in the face scared as shit at this point and all I want to do is get out of the house. I slide it back to the wall, and quickly begin heading to the back door by the basement stairs. At this point I just want to get outside. The feeling in the house was just ominous now. I get to the kitchen to head out the back door and…


I ran out the back door and sat on the curb until they got home. When they got there I told them what had happened, being still all shaken up. His wife laughed at me and said: “told you”.

TL;DR: I got freaked out by a drum, a vacuum cleaner, and a key doing things they shouldn’t.

– Posted by tlf01111; Reddit


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