This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Deep_Warning_8086 on 2026-08-13 20:03:31+00:00.

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I live in a cul-de-sac that’s in the first stage of an entire neighborhood development. It’s out in the countryside surrounded by miles of dense, overgrown forest. Driving on the main road, you wouldn’t expect the random dirt path off to the shoulder to lead you to here.

My father and I moved here a month ago after he got a huge pay raise and could afford something a bit better than the duplex that we called home.

He’s always wanted to live near the woods too so at least he can enjoy it temporarily before it’s torn to shreds.

I, on the other hand, don’t prefer the surrounding nature one bit. It creeps me out but I don’t really have a say and once again it’s only temporary.

This house has everything I could‘ve ever wished for: a living room with a three-bay window, three bedrooms, a beautiful kitchen with a marble island and granite flooring, a two-car garage, and a decent-sized basement, which is where I stay.

There’s something about having my own sanctuary under the house that’s always appealed to me. Maybe it’s the aesthetic, old shows that I’d watched when I was younger, or maybe even the feeling that it’s my own little space away from everyone. Granted I only live with one other person who’s never home.

Our last basement was packed from floor to ceiling with old junk dating back to when I was born. A half-working freezer that smells of rotting meat,  polyester clothing with corny one-liners that I’d get every Christmas, or even a stack of random 2x4’s that my dad swears he’d use someday. Basically everything you wouldn’t want in plain sight around the house.

There are four houses, including ours, in the neighborhood. All of them are built the exact same, down to the smallest detail. They’re all even painted the same color, a pretty off-white shade.

We had the most stereotypical but diverse neighbors. I’ve never met them because I’m not the talkative type, but my father has and he says they’re all pretty normal people.

Well, most of them.

The people living in the home next to ours are a higher middle-class family that consists of a mother and a father with a son, daughter, and of course a toddler. The American dream. I don’t know any of their names but I know their last name is Chesterfield. They seem happy. A little too happy. Like some biochemically engineered “humans”.

Next to them is a younger guy who lives by himself. Around the 25-30-ish range, finance bro, the type of good-looking dude that you’d consider to be a jerk but is actually down to the core. Always outside for some reason. Despite all that he has a simple name, Bob. I aspire to be as successful as he is in a few years.

And last but not least, the one and only Edith and Harold Ultra. Yes Ultra. At least that’s what was printed on their packaging label for things like orgonite pyramids, EMF blocking paint, and concerning amounts of tin foil that accidentally got delivered to our doorstep on multiple occasions. I’ve never really seen them leave the house. They’re probably living off of their retirement or something like that. Very interesting people.

My eyes shot open and my body stiffened. It was pitch black.

I peeled the sleep mask off my face and shifted my gaze toward my nightstand. It was my dad calling at 4 a.m.

“Hello?”

“Hey Salem! Sorry to wake you but they let me off work early so I figured I could come home to catch some Z’s!”

“Hello? Salem?

“Sorry about that. Long night. Why’d you call?”

“Remember? Yesterday I asked if you could scavenge some new batteries from one of the moving boxes for the garage remote. I left it right on your nightstand before I left for work and you said you’d get to it ”

“Oh yeah. My bad. I was distracted. I’ll get to it.”

My eyes darted over to my nightstand, the top drawer left slightly ajar, the last 4 edible gummies staring right back at me.

“Be quick. I’m 5 minutes away.”

“Okay okay.”

I let out a heavy sigh and scooted myself off of the bed, my feet landing on the cool tile floor.

I pulled the attic cord down and climbed up the steps, fiberglass and dust filling my lungs.

At the end of the hall was a beautiful stained glass window which was blocked off by a stack of boxes piling up to the ceiling, most of them toppled over at this point, bringing in pretty thin streaks of light to fill the dark void that is my attic.

To the right of the entry, there was a torn-up box labeled ‘ELECTRONICS’ beneath a vintage coffee table that my grandparents gifted us as a housewarming gift. It was cluttered with old VHS tapes and DVDs dating that predated me.

Old phones. Old gaming consoles. A singular Polaroid photo?

“Salem? Are you done yet? I’ve been here for 5 minutes now and it's raining real bad.”

I looked down at my phone, realizing I hadn’t ended the call before I started rushing upstairs.

“Yes. Almost done.”

The high really started to hit me now. I knew 15 milligrams was too much for me.

I dropped the photo and scrambled through the box for the coin shaped batteries. The ones you use once every few years and forget all about the next day.

A growing tapping noise ran along the ceiling and the glass stained window in perfect harmony.

“Hello? Are you there?”

My eyes shot back at my phone. We’d been on the phone for 10 minutes at this point.

“Yeah. Sorry dad.”

I felt the cool, metallic touch of either a pair of loose batteries or spare change. Lifting them up to the light, a heavy-lidded grin plastered across my face and I lifted myself off of the floor.

On the way downstairs, I pressed the remote repeatedly and was met with silence. The batteries didn’t work at all.

On the other side of the garage door I could see my dad cupping his hands, scanning left and right, looking for me to emerge from the darkness. He looked to be relieved yet annoyed when he saw my silhouette emerging from the darkness.

“It won't work!” I shouted through the window pane.

“What do you mean? Did you search in the box that says-”

“Electronics? Yes I did. These are the only ones I found.”

“I bought those new. You must’ve put them in wrong. You know what? Just open the garage manually”

“How do I-”

“Are you serious? Go over there and pull the emergency release cord!” He pointed through the windowpane toward a huge red cord dangling in the center of the garage.

I gave it a pull and lifted the garage door.

My dad stood mere inches from my face and was soaked head to toe.

He took a step in the garage and looked down at me, his chest almost touching mine.

After a moment he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh before running back to the car, disappearing into the now even heavier rainfall.

He shifted the car in drive and pulled in, closing the garage door with a loud slam. As he walked over to me, a gut-wrenching feeling started to eat at my insides.

I should’ve eaten something before eating those gummies.

“I’m sorry for getting like that. It’s been a long night. May I please see the garage remote?” His demeanor did a whole 180.

I passed him the garage remote, not even saying a word. Hoping he wouldn’t be able to see the glossiness in my eyes.

“Thanks. Goodnight son.” He walked into the house before pausing and looking over his shoulder.

“I guess you ended up putting them in the right way.” He waved the remote at me with a sheepish grin splattered across his face.

“That’s on me. I’ll check out the motor in the morning before I leave for work. Goodnight”

I nodded my head and we split off in different directions. Him walking up the stairs towards the kitchen for a late-night snack before most likely falling asleep on the couch and me heading back down the hallway towards my room to forget all about tonight.

That’s when I noticed something as I turned to close the garage door.

My dad didn’t back in. He always backs in.

Maybe I’m overreacting. I mean it’s his first time back in days and the downpour was pretty bad.

He’s always been specific about his routine. Even with parking.

I turned back and thought about asking him about it but my body overpowered my mind and I was back to bed in seconds.

My alarm clock rang and I snoozed it once more.

Closing my eyes didn’t really do anything for me at this point.

I flipped on my back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about life as I always do in the morning.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

After a couple minutes of contemplation, I stood on my bed and pushed the hopper window shut, turning the hinge clockwise.

I put on some underwear and jogged up the stairs past the living room, straight to the kitchen. It feels like I haven’t eaten in days.

What met me on the fridge was a note written by no one other than my own dad:

“Good morning sleepy head, I tried working on the motor and ended up messing around with the electrical panel till I realized there’s no power. I saw Mr Chesterfield outside and asked him about his place and he said he was dealing with the same thing.

I guess some lightning hit a light pole last night so there won’t be any power for a couple days. I can’t even drive my own car to work because the construction crew is blocking off the path leading to our neighborhood.

Try to open the fridge as little as possible. I’ll try to bring you some lukewarm takeout from the food court if I can make it home tonight. Have a good day and please do something productive.”

Just how can I keep myself busy?

I’ve been inside for so long that I completely forgot that my router...

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