This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/RodFredtwotwo on 2026-08-02 14:31:20+00:00.

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I used to be a criminal. Robbed anyone anywhere I could. Now I'm sure you likely think less of me already; I don't blame you for that. I could make amends for what I'd done all day, but none of it would make up for anything. You see, at one time, I was young and dumb and thought of robbing people as my way of rebellion. At least that's what I tell myself. Whether or not I believe it is another conversation, but that's not what this is about.

As I've said, those days are far behind me. However, one thing from back then has haunted my dreams every single night for the past six years. I'd likely have kept doing what I was doing if it hadn't been for what I experienced in that house.

It was sometime in the evening. My partner and I had staked out this store to rob for some time, and we knew exactly when no one would be around to witness us rob the place. It was a foolproof plan that, looking back, had no reasonable reason to work. And it didn't.

Before either of us knew it, we were hauling ass down multiple small-town streets with bags filled with whatever goods we could grab. The whole time we were running we were arguing over whose fault it was. By the way, it was his fault. He tried opening a sealed case with an alarm on it that we had agreed prior NOT to touch.

We ran until our legs had nearly given out, and that's when we spotted it. A house that had long been abandoned. It didn’t take long for us both to agree to try hiding out there.

“Hurry, dammit! Can't you pick that thing any faster?”

Elliot, my partner, continued to freak out as I finally got the door open and we rushed inside. We took a few minutes to catch our breaths as police sirens began to blare. I peeked out the window just enough to see multiple police vehicles barreling down the street looking for us. Looking back at Elliot, he was shaking his inhaler as he fought to breathe.

“Will you calm down already! They're not even in the neighborhood anymore.”

Elliot breathed in his inhaler, gasping still as he clutched his chest. He let his breathing stabilize before he finally uttered.

“Is that really how to talk to someone who was dying in front of you?”

I realize that my words may have sounded harsh, but the bastard was smiling as he said that.

“You weren't dying, moron.”

Looking back out the window, I listened for the sound of sirens but heard nothing. I was almost baffled at how quickly they gave up the chase.

“Dude.”

Elliot waved his hand to get my attention.

“Hush, dammit. I'm trying to listen.”

*Click*

“The hell was that?”

I could've sworn I heard a noise.

“Dude look!”

Elliot grabbed me by the shoulder to turn me towards the interior of the house. Though annoyed, I humored him by taking a look.

It was dark, but the setting sunlight that shone through the windows lit the place up just enough to see why Elliot was so intrigued. It was massive inside. Far larger than the outside had made it look. From the foyer, there was a rotted staircase and three doorways that led into different rooms downstairs. No furniture or anything in sight. Well, aside from the large patterned carpet we were standing on. It had the words "WELCOME HOME" in bold letters.

“This place is fucking awesome, man.”

Elliot walked towards the rotted staircase. I wasn't sure what had gotten into him; after all, he was just scared shitless and barely able to breathe. Now he's as mesmerized as a moth is to a porch light.

Before I could say something to him, my phone began to ring in my pocket. Picking it out of my pocket, I didn't recognize the number, but I answered anyway.

“Jeremy*?* Jeremy, please tell me that's you.”

I could kind of recognize the voice of Carlos. He's a friend and helps out with our heists. Probably. Definitely. Whatever.

"Yeah, it's me. What's up?”

I could hear the sound of things being thrown and smashed to the ground.

“They came here looking for you, man. They've goddamn ransacked the place looking for any info on you.”

My heart skipped a beat. Not really sure why.

“Who's they?”

I could only assume the cops had somehow tracked down our hideout.

“They want their money, Jeremy. And they aren't taking no for an answer.”

Money? I owed no one any money.

"Please, Jeremy! You have to get over—"

The call was suddenly disconnected. And worse, I could once again hear the faint sound of sirens.

“Fuck.”

I once more peeked outside; nothing. Thankfully.

“Elliot, we have to go.”

Letting go of the blinds, I realized I was alone in the foyer. Elliot had wandered off.

“Elliot.”

I tried calling him, but no one answered.

“Elliot! Dammit, we don't have time for this.”

I angrily walked to one of the doorways. Pitch black. Couldn't see shit.

“Elliot! We have to go now!”

Once more, nothing. Not so much as a whisper.

“Fuck it, I'm leaving without you.”

I turned to walk back to the front door, and that's when I suddenly heard the sound of footsteps scampering up the staircase. A faint shadow was cast from the now setting sun.

"Elli—"

I barely got his name out of my mouth again before something tapped me on my shoulder.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Gaghh!”

There behind me stood Elliot. He was shining a flashlight onto his face like he had just told a scary campfire story.

“Fuck! Where the hell have you been?”

Elliot chuckled; at least someone was having fun.

“Exploring, duh. Seriously, this place is the coolest abandoned house I've ever explored.”

I had forgotten that Elliot had a thing for urban exploration and potential haunted houses. Slipped my mind amongst everything else we had to deal with.

“Seriously though. You have to come check this out.”

Elliot started walking away again before I grabbed him by the arm.

“Look, Carlos called. Something's happening at the hideout. We have to go!”

Elliot's face instantly transformed from a giddy eagerness to an intense disappointment.

“Really, now? We've got our own fucking problems, don't we?”

Elliot is stubborn. Really stubborn.

“Look, we can always go back, okay. We can do a proper urban exploration thing. Hell, we can even put it on our YouTube channel or some shit.”

But not stubborn enough.

“Fine. Let's go once again and bail this idiot out. I swear to god if it's just those alley cats again.”

I would've told him then what I had heard over the phone, but I honestly didn't think he'd believe me.

Making our way to the front door to leave. I took hold of the handle, listening as hard as I could for the sirens. All was quiet. I glanced at Elliot, still sulking, and then I turned the handle.

“What's the matter now?"

Elliot pushed me aside and tried the handle himself.

“What the fuck? God damn thing is jammed.”

Jammed? No. Maybe we just locked it, right?

“Where the fuck are the locks? No deadbolt either? Not even a fucking keyhole?”

Okay, maybe it was jammed.

“Stand back; I'm going through it.”

I got myself ready, standing as far back from the door as I could before launching myself from my heels straight into the door like a linebacker.

*Wham!*

*SNAP!*

“Gagghhhhhhh!”

A sharp and intensely fiery pain shot through my arm. And then I couldn’t feel anything in my arm. And then my shoulder began to feel like a thousand knives had pierced it.

“Son of bitch, dude, hold on. Fuck!”

Elliot frantically dipped into another room. I sat with my back against the door, writhing in agony as I had completely dislocated my shoulder.

Elliot eventually ran back into the room holding something in his hand.

“Okay, all we have to do is relocate your shoulder, and then you'll put on this shoulder sling to keep it stable.”

I tried to stop him, but the pain was too severe for me to talk. He took hold of my arm; sweat dripped down his face as he readied himself.

“Okay, ready,”

I frantically shook my head.

“3!”

I tried to squirm away, but the pain kept me from moving.

“2!”

*CRACKLE!*

“Gaaaaghhhhhhh!”

Without even giving me enough time to process what had just happened. He began wrapping the sling over my shoulder, suspending my arm in it. My breaths had become wheezes. My whole arm felt numb. I'm not sure if he actually managed to relocate my shoulder, but it didn't sound like he fixed it.

"Alright, genius. Now you've gone and injured yourself. The goddamn door isn't budging. Carlos is probably being eaten by cats right now… I'm going to keep exploring.”

I struggled to get up on my feet. I couldn’t really argue with Elliot; there's not much to do now but maybe explore. Maybe take a look around.

“The fuck are you doing now?”

Through the darkness I tried to find something sturdy.

“I'm going to break the windows. I'm not staying in this shithole.”

Elliot rolled his eyes at me.

"Well, good luck with that. I'm going to go upstairs.”

I stopped for a second. Quick thoughts rushed through my head.

“Weren't you just up there?”

He was about halfway up the staircase.

“Uh, no. I'd been down here this whole time. Why?”

I could swear I heard something scurry up there. I thought maybe it had been him.

“Where'd you find this sling?”

He looked at me, puzzled, but I could tell he was putting it together.

“Storage closet in the laundry room. Empty apart from a box full of first aid stuff.”

Empty. This whole place was empty, not even furniture. Yet there's a single box? With first aid supplies no less. Either that's great convenience or…

“What the hell was that?”

From a room upstairs we heard the sudden sound of glass smashing against something. Elliot'...

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