The Dark Somnium - The Crawlspace

Episode Date: September 15, 2021

This creepypasta scary story is one of the original ones from back in 2013, it was wrriten by Kaitie H--- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/darksomnium/message Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Hello there. I guess you could say I'm recording this as a cautionary tale to those who plan on studying abroad in the future. I don't mean to discourage you from going in the first place. It's more like I want you to be aware of this, so that something like this doesn't happen to you. I guess I should explain a little bit. Last summer I was selected to participate in the study abroad program that would be centered

in Rome for several months. anyone would be, I was elated. I had never been out of the States before, so this was going to be a real adventure for me. In the weeks that followed, I happily packed anything and everything I could fit in my suitcase. I will be the first to admit that I had definitely overpacked for this trip. I was nervous about leaving my parents for the first time, but I was also excited for the newfound freedom I would have while in Europe. Before I knew it, my parents were dropping me off at the airport, and I was boarding and 19-hour flight to Rome. Despite being long and tedious, the flight wasn't all that bad.

When I exited the airport, I was greeted by the program supervisor and several other students who would be studying with me. They were all about the same age as me. From there, we went to our mandatory orientation meeting, and afterwards we went to pick up our apartment keys. In the months that preceded the trip, we were responsible for getting to know our would-be roommates, as well as finding a place to stay that we could all afford. There were three girls I would be staying with. They were all nice enough and made an effort to make me feel welcome, though I will admit it's a bit hard to get close to a group of pre-formed friends.

But despite my slight alienation, it seemed that things were all going to work out well. All of us were on a similar budget plan, and by that I mean none of us really had much money to spend. Because of this, we were all on the same page while searching for the cheapest department we could find. After several days of searching, we stumbled across an ad for an ancient apartment located above the Campo di Fiore. That was a prime location, and we couldn't believe that it was still available, no less listed

for an unbelievably low price. This immediately set alarm bells off in my head. The place was enormous, yet the rent was cheaper than the much smaller apartment. apartments in far less desirable parts of town. However, reason never really wins out in a group of excited young women. They had already made up their minds, and if I would be staying with them, this was my only option. We each received our own set of keys as well as a map with walking directions. Because of its prime location, it really didn't take us long to get there.

The Campo was amazing. During the daytime, it was filled with vibrant market, while during the evening, it was filled with a vibrant market, while during the evening it was lined with lively street performers. All of the apartments surrounding it looked to be ancient, so ours really didn't stand out all that much. After circling the square three or four times, we finally noticed the number nailed to the front of the massive old door. This would be our home for the next three months.

I fought with my keys for a moment until there was an audible click of the heavy lock. The thick old door swung forward with a screech. We were then met with a long winding staircase. We all looked at one another and groaned. None of us had accounted for the fact that the building had been constructed before elevators were common, so three sets of stairs and countless complaints later, all four of us, with luggage in hand, stood outside of our new front door. Once again, I reached for my set of keys and fought with the stubborn lock.

As soon as the front door was opened, there was a stampede of young women trying to claim the best rooms. Being a three-bedroom apartment, it meant that two of us would have to share. I personally didn't really care, so I let the others battle it out. When the dust settled, I found that I would be sharing a room with a girl called Samantha. That was fine with me. Samantha was nice enough, and she was also very quiet, my ideal feature in a roommate. Over the course of the rest of the day, we ran around exploring our new home.

There were two bathrooms, a full kitchen, and a living room with an ancient TV. Once again, I began to feel uneasy. Just how was it that we were able to get all of this for such a low price? But before I could finish the thought, I was interrupted by a fit of loud squealing. My initial reaction was to panic. However, I soon learned that all the noise was from excitement. Down at the other end of the hall near the front door, apparently there had been another part of the flat we had missed.

I followed the noise until it led me to a long dark hallway. There, at the end, behind a group of squealing women, was a washing and drying machine. For those of you thinking, what's the big deal, I should explain that these are incredibly rare in Rome. Generally, exchange students have to wash their clothes by hand in the sink before hanging them up to dry. What was a luxury item like this doing in such a cheap apartment? As the screaming quelled, it picked right back up again as the girls noticed a door adjacent

to the washing machine. Beyond that door was a master bathroom. It had a balcony, a claw-foot tub, and even a bidet. The girls immediately starting over whose bathroom this was going to be. I didn't really see why we couldn't share, but apparently the others were dead set on having ownership. As it turned out, it ended up being my bathroom. Stephanie had made a logical argument that because she and I had not, she and I was not, it

and I had to share a bedroom, while the other two each got their own, it was only fair that she and I got to share the master bathroom. And I'll admit that at first I was actually kind of excited. It was, after all, a really nice room. However, over the course of the next several weeks, I began to grow more and more wary of the room. I didn't know how to put it into words. It was like every time I went into that room I could feel something's eyes on me.

the voyeuristic element wasn't really what had me so unnerved. It felt like whatever was watching me was angry, that it didn't want me there, and that it wanted to hurt me. I began doing everything in my power to avoid the room. I asked Alicia if she would mind if I were to use her restroom occasionally. I made up an excuse about how it was far more convenient, since her room was so close, while my bathroom was at the other end of the flat at the end of a very long hallway. She happily agreed, though, when I told her that she could use my bathroom any time she liked.

This worked well for a while. For about the first two months of my trip, I was able to completely avoid the eerie room. It wasn't until the final month that everything began to unravel. One night, as I prepared to brush my teeth, I found that Alicia was already occupying her bathroom. I could hear giggles coming from down the hallway. It was clear both Stephanie and our other roommate were both getting ready for bed in the master bath.

I decided that since there was strength in numbers, it would be all right just for tonight. So I made my way down to the large bathroom, where I joined the boisterous girls in brushing my teeth. They were in the midst of some conversation when Lindsay, our other roommate, had broken into such a furious fit of laughter that she had to lean on the wall for support, but suddenly she jolted upright as if she had been shocked. We all looked at what had caused her reaction. There, on the wall, about the same level as the bathtub was a tiny door.

None of us had noticed it because it was the same color as the walls. The landlord had even painted over it. Naturally, this made me a bit nervous. Whatever it was, the landlord clearly didn't want anyone opening it. But as usual, throwing all caution to the wind, Lindsay reached for the handle and began tugging with all her might. Stephanie clucked her tongue in disapproval before pulling out of her. a small pocket knife. She began delicately carving along the seam of the door. I wanted to beg

her to stop, but I really didn't have energy to argue that night, so within a few minutes, Lindsay had yanked the little door open with a loud crack. It was a crawl space. It was fairly large. My guess would have been you could fit at least three or four people in there. I was rather curious as to why the landlord would have sealed up an empty little room. While I thought about this, Stephanie and Lindsay began calling for Alicia to come see their new discovery. She was just as excited as they were when they first discovered it. However, as could be expected, this excitement waned over time, and eventually the crawl space was just turned into storage for a few towels and laundry baskets.

In the following days after the unsealing of the crawl space, things started to go from Erie to downright terrifying. Annoyingly, Alicia had changed her nightly routine so that I could no longer use her bathroom in the evenings. Once again, I was back in the large bathroom. All the while, the feeling that I was being watched growing worse and worse. I began to get so paranoid each time I went into that room that I would literally jump at the slightest noise of pipe settling, and as soon as I was finished, I would run at full speed down the hallway and close the door behind me. For some reason, I seemed to be the only one feeling this way. It's not like I could have told the girls either.

I was already enough of an outcast as it was, so I just kept myself and hoped it would go away eventually. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. One night, as I was getting ready for bed, I found myself alone in the bathroom. As I stood in front of the mirror brushing my teeth, something set the hairs on the back of my neck straight up. There was a faint rustling noise, not the kind that would have been caused by my roommates at the other end of the flat. Any noises caused by them would have had to have been quite loud to reach me all the way

at the end of the long hallway. No, this noise was very faint, the sound of someone gingerly shifting things around. I stood completely silent, terror filling me. The soft rustling noise was coming from inside the crawl space. I turned on my heels and ran down the hallway to grab the attention of my roommates. I tried to explain to them what happened, but all that came to the case. out were incoherent murmurs. Eventually I managed to stutter.

Something's in the crawl space. They looked at me with fear and confusion in their eyes. As a pack, we moved together down the hallway into the bathroom, and nearly fainted when I saw the tiny door hanging fully ajar. Though this discovery filled me with horror, Alicia immediately pointed to the balcony sliding door. Stephanie had left it open to air out the bathroom after having taken a shower a few hours ago. She peeked her head out the door and pointed to the slanted rooftop adjacent to ours.

There was a pigeon's nest occupied by a few birds. The girl surmised that a pigeon must have found its way in and was the cause of the disturbance. They all had a good laugh as we made our way back to the living room. I pretended to shake it off, but I knew it was not a pigeon that caused the rustling noise. First off, the tiny door had been shut all day. None of us really cared to leave it open because it smelled quite musty inside. And secondly, the door had been shut when I left the bathroom. I'm certain of this, yet there it was wide open when I returned.

You're not going to tell me that a pigeon knows how to and is capable of opening and closing a door all by itself. It was at this point that I began to suspect that something was terribly wrong with this apartment. When I got back to my room, I pulled out my laptop and called my best friend via Skype. She had always been the skeptical and methodical type. However, she also kept an open mind towards things that were hard to explain. I decided that out of anyone she was probably the best to talk to about my situation.

As I expected, she was initially quite doubtful, though she also agreed with me that a pigeon was quite likely not the source. She asked me if I had any photos of the crawl space. She said that if she could see it, that would help her understand a little more clearly, possibly help her to come up with a more logical explanation. Relieved at her willingness to at least hear me out, I reached from my camera and made my way back down the Erie hallway. When I arrived, I found, to my relief, that the door was still closed.

I stood in front of it for a moment, gathering my nerves before finally pulling the little door open. Despite the clutter left inside by my roommates, it was empty. I snapped a quick photo before closing the door once more and running back to my room. I immediately plugged my camera into my computer and uploaded the photo. When I finally opened the image, I was petrified by what I saw. There in the upper right corner was a face bearing its teeth at me.

My whole body began violently shaking. Dear God, that thing is in our home. I muttered to myself. Fear began to overtake me. Someone had sealed whatever it was inside of that crawl space and we had let it out. was so absorbed in my panic I didn't even notice when my roommate returned. She was so blissfully unaware of the imminent danger we were in, yet even if I tried to warn her, she would not believe me.

I was at a loss of what to do, and finally decided that I would deal with it in the morning. Though not by a large amount, I did feel braver in the sunlight. From there I attempted to get some sleep, though for the first time ever since being there, I closed and bolted my door before getting into bed. I'd me suspiciously while doing so, but I just told her jokingly that Lindsay had been sneaking into our room the previous night and had been stealing my Nutella. She laughed heartily, shaking her head before settling down for the night. I will admit that the only reason I was able to find any sleep that night was because

of her presence. Something about not being alone can give one a sense of false security. It was about two in the morning when the sound woke me. I'd always been a light sleeper, so the faint no one was a faint night. noise was enough to stir me. It sounded like a door being pushed open at the other end of the flat, followed by footsteps. But these weren't just normal footsteps. They were far too fast. It sounded like someone was running at full speed from the foyer to the living room and all about the apartment. But these weren't heavy footfalls like the kind you would expect

from a running person. They were light, almost unnaturally so. So I got up and stuck my ear to the wall behind me that separated Lindsay's room for mine. I could hear her faint but steady breathing. She was clearly asleep. It wasn't her. I then crossed to the other side of the room near the door and once again stuck my ear to the wall. Alicia's snoring was quite audible. There is no way it was her. I slowly began to grow fearful as I turned in a last resort to see if Stephanie had perhaps gotten up, but I could plainly see her resting form silently rising. up and down. A shiver went down my spine, and I nearly screamed when I realized that the footsteps had come to a stop outside my door. Despite all the lights being out, I could clearly

see the looming dark shadow of a form through the tiny crack at the foot of my door. I dared not move. Whatever it was, it was just standing there, waiting. Then, to my horror, my doorknob slowly began to jiggle. Gently at first, but then growing violently at the realization. of it being locked. The noise of it eventually woke my roommate. She sat up, blinking and confusion. That instant the jiggling of the doorknob stopped. She asked me what the hell I was doing, and if I knew what time it was. I told her that it wasn't me. I told her that it wasn't me. I told her that whatever had opened the door to the crawl space the previous day had come back, but she just furrowed her brow at me and said that I needed to get more sleep.

The next day, I made an appointment with my program supervisor. I made an appointment with my program supervisor. I told him that I just needed to go home. He tried to tell me that I was just homesick and that it would pass, but I insisted. He eventually gave up and let me call my parents. They were confused but understanding. They were able to change the day of my return flight to the following morning. I really wanted to get out of there that day, but understandably that was the soonest they could manage.

Unfortunately, this meant that I would have to stay one more night in that apartment. When I returned, I tried to tell the others of the other. of what had been going on. I knew I was going to be getting out of there and would be out of danger, but I was still immensely worried for their safety. But none of them took me seriously. They looked at me like I was crazy. They didn't say anything, but I was sure they all thought I was going home because of some

sort of mental breakdown. At that point, there was nothing I could say that would convince them. So that night I locked my door and hesitantly went to bed. And right on cue, once again around two o'clock in the morning. I was awoken by the rapid footsteps scampering around the apartment. I could hear the door to the bathroom begin to creak open, followed by the door at the end of the hallway. The footsteps grew louder and faster as they moved through the apartment, and finally, once more they came to a pause outside my door. I could hear breathing this time, slow and heavy.

I sat up in a panic, and to my horror, I saw that Stephanie had forgotten to lock the door behind her after getting up to use the restroom. It was right outside of my door, and I didn't know if I had time to jump up and try to lock it before the thing realized there was nothing blocking its way. I hesitated a moment too long, and by the time I had sat straight up in bed, the handle slowly began to turn. I froze in terror as the door creaked open, revealing my tormentor. It stood there ominously in the doorway, staring me down. Its eyes protruded slightly from its skull and gave off a very faint bluish light.

It didn't appear to have a nose, only slits where the nostrils should have been. It had the teeth of a man but had no lips, giving it the impression of an eternally toothless snarl. Its grayish-white skin was waxy and stretched tight over its bony face. The rest of its skeletal form was hard to make out as it was almost entirely enveloped in shadow. After pausing for a moment in the doorway, it began to head towards me. As it moved, its body let out sickening cracks.

I sat there, still petrified by fear, until it had made its way to the foot of my bed. Its heavy breaths were deafeningly loud. I don't know how Stephanie slept through it. The air had begun to smell sour and stagnant. With frightening speed, it jolted to the other end of the bed, mere feet from me. I gagged at the smell of it, like sulphur and rotting flesh. Slowly it unfurled one of its elongated and gnarly hands and proceeded to reach for me, Not until it was several inches away did I finally find my voice.

I screamed as loud as I possibly could and it halted in its tracks. Stephanie shot up from her bed, visibly frightened. The creature hunched over on all fours and fled from the room with unsettling movements that recalled those of a spider. A moment later, Stephanie switched the light on and looked at me furiously. She demanded to know what the fuss was all about. I told her exactly what had happened, but she just called me a nutcase. The taxi came to pick me up early the next morning.

The sun had not even risen by the time it arrived. None of the girls came to see me off, but I expected this. After loading my luggage into the trunk, I climbed into the back seat of the old cab. It had driven right through the square and was sitting at the base of my apartment. When I leaned to look out the window, I could see where my room had been. My face contorted into a mixture of panic and concern. There, looking out of my window, was the creature. It's unblinking eyes bore into me and its lipless mouth curled into a snarling grin.

Before I could say anything, the cab driver had taken off, leaving that hellhouse far behind. I tried to warn them. I really did. I did everything in my power to try to warn them of the danger they were in, but none of them listened to me. There was no way I could have stopped what happened after I returned home. You see, several weeks after returning to the United States, I received a phone call from the program director.

He informed me that a day after the program ended, all three of my past roommates had been reported missing. The authorities had no idea just how long they had actually been gone for, as they were only recently discovered to be missing when the program director went to check on them after none of them made it to the end of the program wrap-up meeting. They assumed it had been at least a week or two since all the food in the apartment was expired. There was no sign of forced entry and no valuables were missing. The only notable detail mentioned in the report was when they arrived on the scene, there

was a strange little door hanging a jar in the bathroom. When they approached it, they were met with a powerful odor coming from no visible source. The official report has them declared as missing, but I know that they're all dead. I know that I'm incredibly lucky to have made it out with my life. I think the only reason I'm still alive today is because I fled thousands of miles across the ocean. Despite their unwillingness to listen, I still feel an unimaginable amount of guilt over what happened to those girls.

That's why I'm recording this now. I may not be able to go back in time and save them, but maybe I can prevent this from happening to you. Please, please heed my warning. If you ever get the opportunity to study abroad, keep this in mind. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. And whatever you do, don't stay on the third floor of the ancient yellow apartment complex above the Campo di Fiore.

There's something there. Something evil.