Footprints On My Bedroom Ceiling

The ink wasnt even dry on the lease when I noticed them: four dark, jagged shadows in the corners of the bedroom ceiling.

I snapped a picture and threw it up on Reddit, captioning it with a heavy dose of sarcasm: Pro tip: Always tour the place in person before signing. Otherwise, you wont know about the leaks until you move in. My bedroom ceiling is basically a mold colony.

At 2:00 AM, insomnia kicked in. I unlocked my phone to scroll through the comments.

The top comment made my blood turn to ice water.

Thats not mold. Look closer. Those are footprints. If you dont believe me, look up right now. Tell me if you see four women hanging upside down from your ceiling.

The moment I read those words, the hair on my arms stood up like an agitated cat.

My hands shook so violently I could barely grip the phone. I yanked the duvet over my head, cocooning myself in darkness.

Because I was sleeping in that exact bedroom.

I had moved in that morning.

Sure, the location was in the middle of nowherea forgotten edge of the city where the streetlights flickered and diedbut I couldn't say no to the price. Six hundred dollars a month. In this economy, that wasn't just a deal; it was a miracle.

I hadnt even toured the place. Id wired the deposit and signed the digital contract faster than you could say "scam," terrified someone else would snatch it up.

When I first walked in, seeing the furniture draped in white dust sheets, the living room looked spacious. The sunlight hitting the hardwood floors felt clean, almost cinematic.

I won the lottery, Id whispered to myself, grinning like an idiot.

I was satisfied with everything. The square footage, the vintage furniture, the decent renovation.

Until I walked into the bedroom and saw those black stains in the corners. They looked like water damage, not too dark, just ugly enough to be annoying.

A leak? Id frowned.

But the ceiling was dry to the touch. I shrugged it off. Id hire a handyman to paint over it later.

After unpacking, I sat on the bed, doom-scrolling. Thats when I posted the photo, subtly bragging about the price under the guise of complaining.

And now, lying in the dark, I wasnt seeing envy in the comments. I was staring at a sentence that made my soul leave my body.

Thats not mold... tell me if you see four women hanging upside down.

I lay stiff as a board under the covers, heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

A single sentence had painted a picture I couldn't scrub from my brain. Four women. In the corners. If they had long hair, gravity would pull it down... like black curtains reaching for me.

I couldn't look.

I kept my head buried and typed a reply with trembling thumbs.

Dude, please stop. Its 1:00 AM and I live alone. Youre literally terrifying me rn.

The internet, being the internet, just wanted blood.

OP, take one for the team. Peek out and update us.

+1. We need to know.

Ill Venmo you zero dollars to check.

There were the skeptics, of course.

Lame. Quit trying to scare a girl living alone.

You feel big making people panic?

Dont listen to him, OP. Hes trolling. Ghosts arent real.

The thread turned against him, burying him in downvotes and insults. He didn't get angry. He just posted one more calm, chilling reply.

Real or fake... why don't you let her look for herself?

Within minutes, curiosity weaponized the comment section. Everyone wanted me to look.

I knew if I didn't check, Id never sleep again. My imagination was worse than any reality.

Driven by a mix of morbid curiosity and a desperate need to debunk the fear, I took a deep breath. I lowered the blanket, inch by inch, until my eyes cleared the fabric.

The room wasn't pitch black. Id left the curtains open, and the silver moonlight washed over the floorboards, casting long, pale shadows.

I held my breath and looked up.

Nothing.

The four corners were empty. Just shadows and plaster.

I let out a breath I felt like Id been holding for an hour. I sat up, leaned against the headboard, and typed back.

Nothing there! Just a false alarm. You guys got me good. lol.

The comment section seemed almost disappointed, the engagement dropping off.

Then, he replied again.

Nothing? Take a picture. Show me.

I gritted my teeth. Seriously?

If it werent for his creepy comment, Id be asleep right now. I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to humiliate him.

I exited the app, opened my camera, and aimed it at the ceiling.

My hand jerked. The phone tumbled from my grip and clattered onto the floor.

Before it fell, the facial recognition software had locked on. Four yellow squares. Four faces.

And in that split second on the screen, I saw them.

Four women with long, matted hair, hanging straight down from the four corners like human stalactites.

My scalp prickled with electricity. I dove back under the covers, pulling my knees to my chest, my body rigid as a brick.

It wasn't a hallucination. The phone saw them.

I was hiding under a duvet, and four dead women were hanging directly above me.

The silence in the room changed. It became heavy. Thick.

I felt it thena physical weight of being watched. Four pairs of eyes boring into the back of my neck. My throat was sandpaper. I swallowed hard, the sound deafening in my own ears.

I didn't move a muscle all night.

I waited until the morning sun hit the duvet before I dared to peek out. My eyes were swollen shut, my brain foggy with adrenaline fatigue.

I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand. I looked up.

The black stains in the corners... they weren't just shapeless blobs anymore. In the daylight, they looked exactly like footprints.

Like someone had been standing on the ceiling for a very, very long time.

Did they stand there and watch me sleep all night?

A shiver raked down my spine.

I scrambled out of bed, snatched my phone from the floor, grabbed my charger, and bolted. I didn't stop running until I hit the pavement outside.

I found a diner a few blocks away, ordered coffee and a bagel just to rent the table, and plugged in my phone.

The second the screen lit up, I opened the Reddit thread and DMd the user with the black profile picture.

Dude I saw them! I saw them on my camera! There are actually four women on my ceiling! Please help me! Im twenty-four, I dont want to die!

Radio silence.

I sat there charging my phone until I had to go to work. I walked into the office like a zombie.

I was late. My supervisor, a woman who thrived on passive-aggression, chewed me out for five minutes. I didn't hear a word she said.

All day, I stared at my phone, waiting for a notification.

Finally, during my lunch break, it buzzed.

I knew I wasnt seeing things. Now do you believe me?

I replied instantly: I believe you! Please help me. I signed the lease and the landlord is in Cabo or something, she wont text me back. Im broke. I cant afford a hotel. What do I do?

My face must have been ghost-white because I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I screamed. "AH!"

Sasha recoiled, looking at me like Id lost my mind. "Whoa, easy. Its just me."

Sasha smiled, holding out an iced latte. "You look like hell. Rough night?"

I didn't have the energy to lie. "My apartment is haunted. Like, actually haunted."

Sasha blinked, then burst out laughing. "No way. Really? Do we need to call a priest? Or maybe the Ghostbusters?"

I took a sip of the coffee, my hands still shaking. "Sasha, I'm not joking. There are things in there."

Sashas smile faded slightly. "You're serious?"

I nodded. "Dead serious."

She narrowed her eyes, then grinned again, tapping my shoulder. "Okay then. Im coming over tonight. Ive always wanted to see a ghost. This is gonna be content gold."

I shook my head violently. "No. Im not going back there."

I looked down at my phone. The netizen had finally replied.

Dont leave tonight. Stay in the house.

I typed back, tears stinging my eyes. I cant. Im terrified.

He sent a smiley face emoji. The creepy, passive-aggressive kind. Then: If you don't listen to me, I can't save you.

I couldn't hide forever. I had a twelve-month lease. If I didn't fix this, I was homeless.

I gritted my teeth. Okay. Ill do what you say.

He sent a wall of text.

Tonight, stay inside. Don't go anywhere. Find a hiding spot. At midnight, they will come looking for you. As long as they don't find you, you and the house will be clean. Don't worry, just hide anywhere. They aren't good at seeking.

Im not far from you. Send me the address. I can be there tonight.

I felt sick. I sent the location pin. What happens if they find me?

He just sent the smiley face again.

By 5:00 PM, I had begged Sasha to come with me.

She didn't mock me. In fact, she seemed thrilled.

I showed her the chat logs on the subway ride over. Sashas eyes went wide. "You're trusting a random stranger from Reddit? What if hes a serial killer?"

I rubbed my temples. "He knew about the footprints before I did, Sash. Hes the only one who knows what's going on."

"Maybe he's a medium," I speculated. "Or a psychic?"

Sasha didn't answer, just gave me a pitying smile, like I was a cute but dumb puppy.

Back at the apartment, I avoided the bedroom like it was radioactive. We sat in the living room. I was manic, rambling about hiding spots.

Sasha wasn't listening. She was looking around, impressed.

"Six hundred bucks? In this city? For this? Piper, Id live here even if Dracula was my roommate."

"I saw actual ghosts, Sasha," I snapped.

"Relax," she grinned. "I'm here, aren't I?"

We made fried rice for dinner. Having another human being there, laughing and talking, made the terror recede. The apartment felt normal.

By the time we finished washing up, it was 11:00 PM.

I pointed to the large wardrobe in the bedroom. "I'm hiding in there. You? Want to squeeze in?"

It was the only place that felt like a fortress.

Sasha looked at me, incredulous. "You're really doing the hide-and-seek thing? Because the Reddit guy said so?"

I slapped my forehead. Was she dense? Did she still think this was a bit?

"Sasha," I said, my voice dead level. "Yes. Whether you believe me or not, hide. Or leave. Right now. Because if you stay out here, something bad is going to happen."

The memory of the four faces flashed in my mind. I shivered.

Sasha pouted but nodded. I heard her mutter, "Uber surge pricing is insane right now anyway..."

At 11:30 PM, I cleared a space in the wardrobe, pushing my coats aside until there was a niche just big enough to crouch in.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and hissed at Sasha, who was taking her sweet time. "Hurry up! I don't want you getting hurt."

I pulled the wardrobe doors shut. Click.

Darkness and the smell of cedar chips swallowed me. I checked my phone. The blue light illuminated my terrified face.

I DMd the Reddit user: Are you here?

He replied: Almost.

I clutched the phone to my chest, burying my face in a wool sweater.

"Hehe, I'm hidden! This is kinda thrilling!" Sashas voice came from outside.

"Turn your brightness down!" I whispered aggressively. "Text me only. No talking!"

A WeChat notification pinged. Sasha sent an 'OK' sticker.

Silence descended. The apartment felt like it was holding its breath.

I watched the clock on my lock screen. 11:58. 11:59.

Midnight.

ThumpThump.

My heart was louder than the noise.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The second the clock turned, footsteps started.

In the dead silence, they were amplified.

I curled tighter into a ball.

The steps were light, leisurely. Like a stroll. But my hands shook uncontrollably.

Because the sound wasn't coming from the floor. It was coming from the ceiling.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

They were getting closer. I imagined the dry rasp of hair dragging against the top of the wardrobe.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, forgetting to breathe.

Mercifully, the footsteps passed over me. They moved away, a shuffling, chaotic rhythm, heading toward the living room.

The layout was simple. Bedroom opens to the living room. Off the living room is the bathroom and a kitchenette. Theres a spare room I used for storage next to the bedroom.

The idea of four dead women walking on the ceiling, hunting for me... I wanted to scream.

Tap. Tap.

The sound continued in the living room. ThenKnock. Knock.

A rhythmic, slow rapping. Not a human knock.

Who knocks on a door at midnight inside a locked apartment?

Then the realization hit me.

They weren't knocking on the front door. They were knocking on the internal doors.

I shrank into my coat collar. I pulled up Sashas chat.

You okay?

Sasha replied instantly: Im good. Do you hear the ceiling walking?

Yes. Theyre here. Be careful. Do not come out.

Holy shit its real! Im not going anywhere! Im literally shaking rn.

(Sticker: A yellow bean sweating and laughing nervously)

A moment later, I heard the bathroom door creak open.

I froze.

Wait.

They were on the ceiling.

I remembered the visual. Upside down. Arms hanging... but still feet from the floor. The bathroom door handle was waist-high.

How did they reach the handle?