Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - The New Smart Home We Moved into Keeps Locking the Doors—From the Inside

Episode Date: September 24, 2025

Get the full horror experience without interruptions — ad-free, all the time: ⁠patreon.com/drnosleep Wake up or stay up with NoSleep Coffee! Check out ⁠NoSleepCoffee.com⁠ to get 20% off fresh roasted coffee delivered straight to your door. Just use promo code NOSLEEP20 at checkout for 20% off your first order! Author: Jake Bible Check out the author's latest release: Blood Cruise! https://jakebible.com/novels/blood-cruise/ * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 17. Listener discretion is advised.  #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The tech crouches at the inlet to the control panel's power conduit. I avert my eyes, since apparently you don't have to be a plumber to show your ass crack. I am sorry, sir, the text says, standing and shaking his head. I cannot for the life of me find any issues with the CPU, the software, or the power supply. Are you sure? I checked the name tag on his work shirt. Brian? I mean, it's not normal for it to go off every single night. I've read the entire manual front to back at least three times.

I've googled and checked subredits, and everyone and everything agrees with me. Oh, I agree with you too, Mr. Flint. The tech, Brian replies. Once the house is put into sleep mode, locks down right then and there. Unless there's an attempt at break-in, you shouldn't hear a peep. Yeah, well, that's not happening. The no-peep thing. We've only lived here a month, and except for the first two nights,

the house tells us at 2.37 a.m. every night that the doors are locked. And that's what it's saying? And that's what it's saying? Doors are locked? Exactly those words. Doors are locked. Huh, that's not a standard phrase. Our houses are programmed to say,

all doors and windows secured. Have a pleasant night. Are you sure it's saying, yes, I'm sure? I snap. I hold up a hand in apology and rub my face. Sorry, sorry. Hard to get a good night's sleep

when I'm waiting for an electronic voice to wake me up at 2.37 a.m. every damn night. I understand, sir. and I'll escalate this immediately. Brian grabs his tablet from where it hangs on his utility belt and types quickly. You don't happen to have a recording of this, do you? I stare at him, ready to explode, but he's just a tech doing his job. Taking it out on him isn't fair.

So I smile the best I can and repeat what I've already told, the whole home customer service rep, the online repair request form, and even Brian when he first arrived. No, I don't have a recording. because the house's cameras turn to static at 2.35 a.m. and don't reboot until later. All that's on the video logs is static. Oh, right. You said that. Sorry. Well, and a voice, I think.

A voice? What kind of voice? Whispering. Like the house is... No, this sounds crazy. Sir, I have heard it all. It sounds like the house is talking to someone. Talking to someone? Interesting. That shouldn't happen.

He's scrolling on his tablet when he stops and frowns. Um, you said you bought the house how long ago? It'll be exactly one month tomorrow. We bought it on August 22nd. His frown deepens. And you told this to customer service when you called? Yeah, and I put it in the online form they made me fill out, August 22nd. And did you buy the secondary house warranty when you purchased the house from the previous owners?

The what? The secondary house warranty. This isn't a secondary house. It's our primary and only house. No, no. I mean a secondary owner. That's because you purchased it from the original primary owner. No. I didn't purchase a secondary home warranty.

We were told the original warranty was still applicable. Well, I kinda have bad news. He flips his tablet around. It's not. That warranty only transfers coverage on structural issues. on structural issues. This isn't structural. So without the secondary house warranty, I'm afraid diagnosing and repairing the problem is going to cost you. Are you saying you have diagnosed the problem, but just won't fix it? What? Oh, definitely not. As far as I can see, there is no problem.

I can try to go deeper, but without the secondary warranty, it'll be a minimum of 400 for the diagnostic house call, and then extra for labor in parts. Parts includes any software, upgrades or reformatting of the main personality. Main personality? Your whole home house is equipped with the latest AI persona options. Unfortunately, since you are not subscribed to the Elite Plan and don't have the secondary house warranty, your AI persona is a weaker, stripped-down model.

I don't care about personas. I just want the damn thing to stop telling us the doors are locked in the middle of the night. Technically, it's early morning. I glare at Brian, but he seems immune. So I suck back my anger and decide to go another route. Did you say the house call alone will cost $400? I ask him after taking a moment. Yes, sir, but I won't charge you for today's visit.

I can classify this as a routine software version check, which is no charge. We can do those remotely, but I'll log that you have connectivity issues. Do we have connectivity issues? Not at all. I'm just doing you a favor. Gee, thanks. No problem, Mr. Flint. One option is that you can purchase a secondary house warranty directly for me if you want.

Then everything will be covered. Okay, how much will that run me? Let's see. He scrolls on his tablet. You missed the first week discount purchase window, and you missed the second week second chance purchase window. He keeps scrolling. Ah, here we are.

First month purchase price is $18,647. not including tax. I have no words. Sir? Mr. Flint? Do you want the secondary house warranty? I can ring you up straight for my tablet here. No, I say flatly. How much would it have been if I'd been told about the secondary warranty when we bought the house?

Oh, you were told. We can't resell a whole home house without you either purchasing or declining the warranty. I didn't decline it. You had to. Or the contract wouldn't have gone through. I didn't decline it because I wasn't shown it. Yeah, that's not true, he taps, he scrolls. See, is this your signature?

He turns the tablet around and shows me an electronic signature that may or may not be mine. I don't know if that's my signature. That could be anyone's random scribble. Who signs their name perfectly on these things? I don't know. Brian shrugs and returns his attention to the tablet. But this is your contract, and it has a signature in the decline section of the secondary house warranty notice.

Donnie! My wife shouts from the front room. Donnie? Back here, hon. I shout. In the utility room with the repair tech. Whole home diagnostics technician. Brian corrects me.

Oh, hey, here you are. Evie, my wife, says when she steps into the cramped utility room with us. So, what's the problem? Are we getting closer to not having a voice wake us up every single night? No. What about that whispering? The house shouldn't whisper. should it? No, ma'am, Brian says. I really wish I could take care of this for you. Uh, why aren't you?

Evie asks, then looks at me. Why isn't he? We declined the secondary house warranty, I say. We did? What's that? It's what we need to have repairs like this paid for. Otherwise, it's a minimum of 400 for just the visit. Christ on a cracker, how much would the actual repair be? Anywhere from six to eight thousand would be my guess. Brian says, as if if he's the most helpful human on the planet. Dollars? Evie exclaims. Are you fucking shitting me?

That's bullshit! Evie is never at a loss for words. I don't remember even being offered a second warranty. A secondary house warrant. You shut up! She snaps and jams a finger under Brian's nose. You are a tool of late stage capitalism. And I'm not going to listen to anything else you have to say,

unless it's, sorry, of course whole home will cover all costs. Is that what you were going to say? Brian, obviously not stupid, doesn't say another word and only shakes his head. I didn't fucking think so. Evie looks at me, looks at Brian, looks at the control panel, then looks back at Brian. I think we're done here. Are you sure? He asks timidly.

Oh, I'm fucking sure. Okay, but I am going to need a signature on this line right here, stating I presented the secondary house warranty and you declined to purchase it. He spins his tablet back around and points at the sign here line. Brian, right? Evie asks. Evie. I warn. I know that tone. Yes, ma'am. If one of you could just sign here, please.

Brian, do you like having your balls still attached to your body? Okay, okay, thanks for coming, Brian. I hurry him past my wife and out of the utility room. You weren't exactly helpful, but at least we know the system itself is working fine, even if you couldn't diagnose the actual problem. Yeah, of course, Mr. Flint. Brian stammeres as I hurry him to the front door. But I still need a signature.

Yeah, I think we'll skip that step today, Brian. I pull open the front door and gently shove the tech out onto the stoop. You have a great day. I slammed the door in his face. For a brief second, I have an image of an angry Brian standing out on our porch, tablet in hand, as he performs some trick and destroys our smart houses software. But then I hear the door to his work van slam shut

and his engine turn over. I bring up the house's driveway camera on my phone and watch him pull out and drive off. Evie! I yell when the van is no longer in sight. I'm calling our realtor! Evie says as I catch a glimpse of her striding past the living room and down the hallway to our bedroom.

I hurry after her and pick up her work clothes as I go. By the time I'm in our bedroom, Evie is already in sweats and a t-shirt and washing her face in the unsweet bathroom. Not what I wanted to come home to. She dries her cheeks with a washcloth, then grabs up one of a hundred bottles of whatever from her side of the two-sync vanity. We were never told about that stupid extra fucking warranty. I know.

That's how they get you. All the add-ons and fine print. I know. That's why I work for a non-profit. I spend my day figuring out ways to help people, not gouge them. I know. The nerve of these fucking tech companies! She shouts and slams her fist down on the vanity,

making the half dozen bottles sitting by the sink, wiggle and almost topple over. I know, I know. But what can we do? Like I said, I'm calling a realtor. She looks herself over in her mirror, then dries her hand as she yanks off the headband, holding her hair away from her face.

And that bitch better have answers. That bitch is your cousin. Yeah, that's how I knew she's a bitch. Babe, take a couple of deep breath. This sucks, but it's not the end of the world. Really? We haven't been able to sleep through the night since we moved in. You told him it's every night at 2.37 a.m., right?

I told him everything. Even the messed up camera footage. Yup, told him that. And the whispering, right? You mentioned that our fucking house is whispering to someone, right? I mentioned it all. He looked, but didn't find anything. That's when the whole warranty crap came up.

Bait and switch. I don't think that's it. Brian was just doing his job. And I bet he gets a commission off every secondary warranty he sells. Secondary house warranty, I say and smile. Oh, right, can't forget the house part. She rolls her eyes. I need wine.

What's for dinner? Breakfast for dinner. Steak and eggs? With an arugula and tomato salad. Salad isn't for breakfast. Brunch for dinner then. She shrugs. That'll work.

2.37 a.m. Doors are locked. The electronic voice. rips me from my sleep, and I sit bolt upright. Lie back down. Evie's hand slaps at me. Stupid house. Yeah, okay.

Sure. I rub my eyes, then lie back down. Stupid house. Doors are locked. I sit up again. Evie? Mm-hmm. It's set it again.

Mm-hmm. I know. No. I mean it's set it a second time in one night. It's never done that before. She cracks open one eye. Then go check if you want. You're not worried?

If it said, doors unlocked, then I'd be worried. Her eye closes, and she settles deeper under the covers. Yeah, I'm gonna check it out. I say as much to myself as to her. Go for it. I slip out of bed and grab my phone and t-shirt. As I pulled the shirt on, I sleep, stumble out of our bedroom and down the hallway. I bring up the whole home app and scroll through the camera angles.

Nothing but static. Except, there's still that damn whispering. I crank up the volume on my phone, but the static is too loud, and I can't make out any of the... Doors are locked. Jesus Christ! I jump and drop my phone. Stupid house!

Scare the living shit out of me, why don't you? I pick up my phone and check it again. Still static, but the whispering is gone. Gotta do this the old-fashioned way, I guess. I shuffle to the front door. I place my phone on the magnet holder set at eye level. and the view on my phone switches from static to our front porch. Okay, so maybe it's not exactly old-fashioned peephole way.

Why is this working? I wonder out loud. Different interface? I scream and spin around. Evie, right behind me, screams too. Damn it, Donnie! She yells. You scared the crap out of me! Me? I thought you were still in bed. Had to pee. She looks past me, her eyes narrow. Is someone out there?

Doors are locked. Fuck! I cry. Shit! Evie shouts. We both stare at my phone screen. There is. Evie points at a shadow, just off to the side of the screen.

Someone is hiding behind that post. See the shadow? I see it. I look closer. But I don't know if that's a person. Could just be the angle of the street light casting shadows onto our porch. It just fucking moved! Evie screams and grabs onto me.

Donnie! Call the police! Picture this. It's late at night. You're scrolling, and suddenly you find exactly what you've been looking for. You add it to your cart, maybe browse a little more than head to checkout, only to realize you don't have your wallet. But then you see it, that purple shop pay button.

And just like that, you're done in seconds. That's the power of Shopify. It supports millions of businesses and drives 10% of all e-commerce in the U.S. From major brands like Mattel and Jimshark to entrepreneurs just getting started. With Shopify, everything you need is in one. one place, from customizable store templates to built-in AI tools that help write product descriptions and enhance your images. It also makes marketing easy with integrated email and social campaigns. And if you get stuck, Shopify's award-winning customer support is there for you 24-7.

See less carts go abandoned and more sales go with Shopify and their shop pay button. Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com slash dns. Go to shop. Go to shopify. Shopify.com slash DNS. That's Shopify.com slash D&S. 4.15 a.m. No one is out there, ma'am. The officer says to Evie is me and the officer's partner walked to the front door.

Nothing on the camera recordings, the partner says. Just static. But I swear someone was out there. Evie says in a tone that I know will probably get us in trouble. We did see someone, but they must have run off.

I wrap my arm around Evie's waist. She tries to shove me off, but I gripped tighter. I wish we'd gotten a recording. Same, the first officer says. These smart houses are glitchy as hell, the partner says. We get calls all the time. Just be glad it's locking your doors and not unlocking them. The first officer adds.

That's what I thought, but seeing someone actually out there doesn't exactly bring me a lot of comfort. Evie snaps. Ma'am, there's not much we can do. The first officer sighs. Next time, try record. with your phone, see if it'll screen grab the video instead of relying on your system to record it. Good idea. Thank you, officers. I opened the front door to see them out. The first officer hands me as card.

If you do get something solid, shoot me a text. If we have something concrete, we might be able to help more. Yes, thank you. You folks have a good evening. The partner salutes as they walk down the steps and cross our lawn to their cruiser. That's two strikes. Evie turns to me when I close the door. The third one better not be us getting murdered in our sleep. Not likely. You don't know that? I do know it, because we can't be killed in our sleep if the damn house keeps waking us up.

Cute. We look at each other, look around the house, then sigh and walk back to our bedroom. Alarm goes off in an hour, Evie says as she gets back in bed. Great. From the app, I double check that the house is secured. scroll through the camera feeds, which are working now, then close the app and lay down next to Evie. I'll take whatever little sleep I can get. I get comfy next to her.

In seconds, we're both asleep. 2.37 a.m. Doors are locked. Motherfucker! Evie shouts and jumps out of bed. She doesn't bother grabbing her pajama pants and marches out of her room in her t-shirt and underwear. I swear to God I'm going to beat a shadow to death tonight. Hold on!

I shout, scrambling after. her. Doors are locked. Oh, are they? Evie yells. I catch up to her, just as she's about to pull the front door open. Hold up! I grab her arm. Let's look first. This time we'll record it on my phone like the cop suggested. Her body is stiff and shivering with anger. I put my phone in the holder, and the screen shows our front porch. Oh shit! I gasp. Call that officer. Now! Evie runs to our bedroom to get her phone. I start recording as I stare at the person standing on our porch with their back to the front door. Tall and wearing a long cloak, the person stands perfectly still. Doors are locked. The person's shoulders twitch like they are laughing.

Then they step off the porch, they're back to me the whole time, and walk across our lawn. By the time they get to the street, the resolution is so poor that I can't tell what they look like. Or if they are a man or woman, when they turn right and walk slowly out of frame. Where'd they go? Did you record it? Evie asks, breathing hard as she races up next to me. Yeah. I grab my phone to check. The video is saved in the photos album.

Whoever it is, they walked away. They're gone now. Okay, I didn't talk to the same officer, but they said they'd send someone out to check around the house. We can go into the precinct in the morning and fill out a report and give them a copy of the video. They'll look into it. She smiles at me, and I purse my lips. You mean I get to go into the precinct? Donnie, babe. I have meetings all day today today.

If I don't secure next year's funding now, we'll be shut down by Christmas. I know, I know. Just text me afterward and let me know how it goes. She kisses me on the cheek, then strips off her t-shirt and heads to our room. I'm going to go ahead and shower and head in early. Okay, I'll shower after and then go straight to the precinct. Good idea. After she's gone, I stand and listen for a while.

No whispers from the house. 2.30 a.m. Evie and I stand at the front door, my phone already in place and recording. Our porch is empty. They said they sent a patrol around, right? Evie asks. That's what the desk sergeant said. She was really nice about it.

Apparently, they've had more than a few problems with smart houses. That's what the officer said. No, she said it like it's becoming a major issue. What do you mean? I mean, she hinted that maybe they've seen some weird things with houses like ours. What does houses like ours mean? Smart houses in general or whole-home smart houses? Um, whole-home smart houses.

Okay, screw my cousin. She was useless when I called her anyway. I'm talking to a lawyer tomorrow. Might not be a bad idea. What time is it? Uh, 235. Okay, here we go. Evie checks the app and the regular video feeds

while I stare at the recording on my phone. Doors are locked. Static. She shows me her phone. I'm not looking at her, though. I'm staring at the person walking up onto our porch. Jesus! What's wrong with his face?

Evie asks. The person's skin is so pale, it's almost bright white on my phone screen. Their eyes are the opposite, nothing but pitch black. Junkie, I say. See how wide open his pupils are? The person mouths something, and we can just barely hear. Then the whispering begins. Did the house just say no?

I ask Evie. The stranger says, and he smiles like he's looking directly at us. My stomach drops, and so does Evie's phone as it slips from a grasp. Doors are locked. We jump, scream, and scream again when the person gets up close to the front door camera and grins even wider. Their teeth, Evie whispers. Through the door, I hear the squawk-squawk of a police siren.

A police officer calls from the cruiser that now idols in front of our house. Now! The person's nasty-toothed smile grows wider, impossibly wide, and I almost think they're going to swallow the door camera, or the entire door. The police cruiser squawks again, and the smile falters, then drops, and the person steps back from the door. Where'd they go? Evie whispers. All I see is an empty porch and a police cruiser out by the curb.

Evie's phone rings, and she shrieks. Instead of picking it up and answering it, she grabs herself and runs down. down the hallway. Get that! I think I just peed myself. Okay, I say and pick up her phone. Hello? Oh yes. Thank you, officer. Have you been awake and watching, sir? We have, yeah. I did, and I recorded it. Us too. What now, officer? Are you going to look around our house? We, um, are going to drive around the block a few times, then parked down the street and problem is. Partner saw which way the person went after they left your porch. I hear his partner in the background. say something about, poof and gone. But I don't catch the whole statement. My email was on the card I gave

you. If you could send that video file to us, I'll make sure it gets logged and looked over. Yeah, sure, I'll do it right away. Good. Sorry we weren't able to question them. Odds are they'll be back tomorrow night. Well, we'll be here. Don't you worry. Thanks, officer. You have a good night. You too, Mr. Flint. I hang up Evie's phone and grab my phone. Doors are locked. Son of a bitch. 2.20 a.m. Scary looking or not, this asshole needs to stop. Evie says as we are once again standing at our front door in the middle of the night.

Evie holds a baseball bat in her right hand. She stopped on the way home to grab one for the both of us. I will break this fucker's skull right on her porch if it means I can get some uninterrupted sleep again. Evie, let's have the police handle any skull breaking, okay? We don't have a clue who this guy is or what he's capable of. Junkies are unpredictable and, well, on drugs, so confronting them isn't the best idea. Okay, Donnie, fine. She holds up her bat and smacks her left palm with it.

But if the cops can't take care of this, then I will. And if he has a gun, then you take care of him. Cute, I reply as she smiles at me. Her phone rings, and she answers it immediately. Hello? Oh, hi, officer. Doors are locked. We jump, even though we've been waiting for the announcement. for the announcement.

They're parking and walking toward our house now. Evie relays to me. Good, because he's back! I exclaim and point at my phone. The same pale stranger is walking up our steps. Then he pauses and tilts his head. After a second, he turns around and walks back into our yard. There's the cops!

Evie points at their shadows entering the screen from out on the street. They both stop and reach for their sidearms. We barely see their mouths move, but we can faintly hear through the door. Police, get on your knees, hands behind your head. The stranger keeps walking toward them. Donnie? Evie says, and I hear the worry in her voice. They're armed professionals.

I mean, what else can I say? The stranger doesn't stop or get down on their knees. We hear the cops shout the same order, but a lot louder. The stranger continues walking toward them. Then he isn't. Where'd he go? Evie asks. The police officers look around, confused.

Then one of them cries out and drops to a woman. a knee, his hand to the side of his neck. The hand is coated in something dark. Is he bleeding? I get closer to my phone. Holy shit! I think the guy's been attacked! The other officer is stuck between wanting to help his partner, looking for the stranger, and calling it all in. His indecision gets him the same fate. We watch in horror as his sidearm is knocked from his hand with enough force for it to go clattering down the street for a good 20 yards or so. Then he's down on his knees, both hands to his throat. Darkness spills out from between his fingers.

He collapses onto his face. His partner slouches and falls on top of him. We need to call 911, Evie says, but she doesn't dial. She's too stunned, as both of the officer's bodies are dragged by something unseen down the middle of the street and out of view. We stand there in shock until I'm finally able to say, Yes, we should call 911. Doors are locked. We cry out and hug each other tight, as the stranger's face appears on my phone screen.

pressed so close to the front door camera that we can see the deep pores on their nose and the cracks in their skin on their lips. And Wood has to be an insane amount of blood smeared all over and around their mouth, he says, and the house starts to whisper, You will soon. Doors are locked. The stranger laughs, turns, and walks away. Then, he simply stops being on the screen.

He just disappears. All Evie and I can do is stand there and stare at my phone. 6.45 a.m. About a dozen officers stand out on our lawn as the sun rises behind the house across the street from us. Neighbors are out on their porches watching the drama, while police dogs and their handlers race about, hurrying up and down the street. The detective sitting across from us in our living room watches the video I sent him. He's watched it over 20 times without saying a word. Finally, he sets his phone down on the coffee table and looks at both of us. And you've never seen this guy before, correct?

He asks. Correct, I say, he mutters in size. A police tech hurries into the living room, leans down, and whispers in the detective's ear. All of it? He asks, the tech nods. The detective looks at us, then back up at the tech. Can you tell how? No idea.

We'll need forensics to go through the system. They're on the way. Okay, thank you. The tech leaves, and the detective focuses on us again. Your story checks out. Nothing but static on every feed. He glances at his phone. Makes you wonder how you were able to record through the front door camera, doesn't it? Yeah, I'm wondering about that and a few other fucking things.

Evie snaps. She's exhausted. So I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her in tight. She rests her head on my shoulder. Sorry. No apologies needed. The detective looks around to make sure no one is listening. To be honest, this is all so fucked up. I don't think any of us can wrap our heads around it.

No shit, Evie says. I also wish I could hear that whispering clearly. Maybe we can have a tech filter out the noise. That'd be great, I say. But until then, what do we do now? Now? Well, on our end, we're doing everything we can to find our missing officers. On your end, we'll post two officers inside that.

house tonight and a whole lot more outside. You're going to catch this asshole right? Evie asks. That's the plan. Do we have to be here? I ask. As opposed to where. I'm not leaving our house, Donnie, Evie says. I don't give a shit how fucked up at all is. That motherfucker isn't running me off. The detective grins at Evie's language. Ideally, we'd like to have you here with the officers. We want the situation to remain as normal as possible, so we have a better chance of him returning. While we don't think he's watching now. We can't be 100% certain of that. Plus, if you leave, we won't be able to assign officers to you at a new location. We're stretched thin as it is. So we're kind of like bait, I say. Not happy about having to spend even one more night in the house.

I wouldn't say that, but yes, you're kind of like bait. Great, so what do we do? Nothing. Just be normal. Evie scoffs. The detective smiles. I know, I know. There's nothing normal about any of this. You think? Evie, come on. This is messed up all around, I say. She sighs and nods. Okay. So we'll have the officers come by this evening and introduce themselves. They'll arrive around 10.

The rest, including myself, we'll post up around midnight. But you won't see any of us. We'll be well hidden. Sounds like a plan, I say. Evie nods and sighs again. 2.30 a.m. You don't need to stand. and watch. One of the officers tells us. My phone is back in place on the front door, and both Evie and I stare at the screen, while the two officers assigned to stay inside our house

stand a few feet behind us. Really, folks, you should go sit down, the other officer says. Not moving until this is over, Evie states. There's no arguing with her tone of voice, and the officers must realize that, because they stop pushing. We watch, we wait. Doors are locked, Holy Christ! One officer exclaims, Evie snickers. And right on time, the stranger appears on our front lawn. His black eyes aimed straight at us. He's not moving, Evie whispers.

The stranger cocks his head like he heard her. But that is impossible. He's here. One of the officers calls quietly into his radio. Roger that, we see him. The detective replies. Moving in now. Our entire street lights up like a nighttime carnival.

Floodlights, police cruiser lights, handheld flashlights under pistols, or strapped to rifles, illuminate the stranger. He grins. A swarm of police officers surrounds the guy and shouts multiple orders at him, but he doesn't move. When they converge to take him down, he tilts his head slightly and says something. What do you say? One of our officers asks. I don't know, I say. I can't hear him from here.

I can hear all the shouting from the officers, though. Or I could. What's going on? The second officer asks. What are they? Are they lowering their weapons? Shit! The first officer says.

He shoves me and Evie out of the way. Why are they doing that? Several of the officers outside sling their rifles over their shoulders and walk away. Then we see the detectives come sprinting onto the scene. His sidearm down, his mouth wide open as he shouts orders. Everyone ignores him and walks off. The detective rounds on the stranger, screaming for him to get down on his knees. sneeze. The stranger grins wider and speaks to the detective. The man's gun arm goes slack,

and after a moment, he holsters his pistol. Then he does like the rest of the officers and simply walks away, leaving the stranger alone on our lawn. What the hell is going on? One of our officers barks into the radio. Does anyone copy? Hello? Someone answer me. What the actual fuck? The other officer says. A phone rings, and the first officer puts his radio away and answers his This is officer. He stops talking and stiffens up. Yes, sir. No, sir.

I understand. He waits a moment. I'm not sure I agree with the assessment of the situation. But if you say the subject is harmless and everything is secure, then... He shares a look with his confused partner. No, no, sir. We'll be right out. He says and hangs up.

We're shut down. Detective Lewis says the subject isn't breaking any laws and is free to go. Not breaking laws? Not breaking laws? Evie shouts. He's standing on our lawn. That's trespassing. Ma'am, I agree with you.

But we've been ordered to leave. The officer says. Come on, Jack. Sorry. The second officer says. They open the front door. Look back at us. Look out at the stranger standing on our lawn.

Then leave, closing the door behind them. Doors are locked. Fuck off. Evie shouts. We watch the officers give the stranger a wide berth. Once they are out of safe, sight, the stranger casually walks across our lawn and up onto our porch. Then he knocks. Doors are locked. The stranger says, and I can hear him clear as day as if he's standing right

next to me. You know me. Doors are locked. Did he say tut-tut? Evie asks quietly. Doors are locked. What is going on? I say out loud. Why they all leave? What does he want? I summon all my courage and scream. What do you want? The stranger replies. A man. A weird thought crosses my mind. Why don't you come in on your own? You could have when the officers left. His grin spreads. Invite me in, he says. Ready, please.

Jesus Christ! Evie says. Is he a... No, no. I don't know. Maybe? Nah. No. It's impossible. They don't exist. The house whispers. The stranger says again. Doors are locked.

The stranger says, You can unlock the doors. You know me. We're old friends. Check your logs house. I have been here every night for weeks. We've had long, heartfelt conversations house. What did he say? Evie asks, what does that mean? Doors are locked. Oh, house, house, house, house, I'm your friend. You don't leave friends standing outside, do you? Where's your hospitality? Doors are... Why didn't it say locked? Evie asks, her voice rising. I feel the same fear and can only shake my head. House, please, unlock the doors and invite me in. The stranger says,

House, do not let this man in. I yell. Doors. You know you want to invite me in, House. Just say the words. Donnie, what is happening? Is he? Is he convincing the AI to actually let him in?

No, no, that's not possible. I mean, if he's a, you know what, he has to be invited in by the owners of the house, right? Dear God, Evie says and falls to her knees. The fine print. There must be something in the fine print. A loophole. A loophole? What kind of loophole? I don't fucking know what kind of loophole, Donnie. House, I'm hungry, and I could use a place to rest my head when the sun rises. Please let me in.

Doors. Do not let him in, House. I shout. Don't you dare. We are the owners. Until the mortgage is paid in full, Whole Home Incorporated owns all rights to all whole home houses. I fucking knew it! Evie cries. House? The stranger says. He leans in close, so all we can see on my phone are his sharp teeth. This is insane. It can't be happening.

Evie mutters as the house whispers. Then there's only silence. Oh, thank God. I say. I think it's doors are unlocked. Thank you, the stranger says. Please come in, count. The house says.

Be our welcome, gasp. Evie and I scream and scream as the doorknob turns. We should have bought the secondary. house warranty.