This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Whatsinmyyardman on 2024-08-13 22:47:21+00:00.

Part 1: Does Anyone Know What’s Going On With the Grass in My Backyard?

Hey everyone, I wasn’t planning on posting another update so soon, but things have taken a turn, and I feel like I need to share what’s happening before I lose my nerve.

After I got out of the crawlspace yesterday, I went to a coffee shop to clear my head and type up what I’d seen and heard. But the longer I was away from my house, the more silly my fear seemed. Of course I thought I’d heard something, I was stuck in a cramped, dark crawlspace trying to solve a hundred year old mystery; my mind was primed to see and hear things that weren’t there. I convinced myself I’d just managed to freak myself out and that there was nothing to worry about. I got ready for bed that night feeling better about everything and actually excited to explore more the next day.

Then I started reading your comments.

A couple of you noticed that on the railroad enthusiast forum BNSFBoss had oddly commented “Don’t wake them.” at the end of one of his posts. To be honest I hadn’t noticed that when I copied and pasted the text of the forum posts over to share with you guys. That was definitely weird. Could it have something to do with the wooden sign I found in the crawlspace that said “They are sleeping”? How would anyone else know about that?

I pulled up the forum thread I’d created to have a look and maybe ask BNSFBoss what he meant by that. What I saw confused me. Remember that push notification I’d gotten in the crawlspace? Turns out that was a new reply alert for the thread, and it wasn’t the only one. I’d silenced my phone so I didn’t see that in the time I was down in the crawlspace I’d gotten nearly 30 more replies in rapid succession. I’ve pasted some here:

BNSFBoss

8/12/24

Stationmaster

warmer.

Frankie76

8/12/24

Conductor

BNSFBoss Huh? What are you talking about? you’re getting too close.

homebrewdad

8/12/24

Conductor

Definitely not street car tracks, they wouldn’t have wooden ties you’re going to wake them.

BNSFBoss

8/12/24

Stationmaster

nearly there.

Frankie76

8/12/24

Conductor

they can hear you while they sleep.

homebrewdad

8/12/24

Conductor

go no further.

BNSFBoss

8/12/24

Stationmaster

come closer.

BNSFBoss

8/12/24

Stationmaster

nearly there.

Frankie76

8/12/24

Conductor

you’re standing on top of them.

thomasthedankengine

8/12/24

Stationmaster

WTF has this thread devolved into? OP, got any updates run.

BNSFBoss

8/12/24

Stationmaster

they hear you.

thomasthedankengine

8/12/24

Stationmaster

run.

BNSFBoss

8/12/24

Stationmaster

they see you.

thomasthedankengine

8/12/24

Stationmaster

run.

BNSFBoss

8/12/24

Stationmaster

hello.

thomasthedankengine

8/12/24

Stationmaster

run.

thomasthedankengine

8/12/24

Stationmaster

run.

thomasthedankengine

8/12/24

Stationmaster

run.

And it just kept going. All 30+ comments were within a 7 minute span, compared to the 3-4 comments per day the thread was getting before. I’m seriously spooked now but I’m already covered up in bed and don’t know what to do. It’s late, I’m going to try to sleep and decide what to do in the morning.

...

I woke up with that familiar gnawing sense of dread hanging over me. I didn’t sleep well last night—how could I, after what I found in the crawlspace? I kept thinking about those words scratched into the beam, “They are sleeping.” and the corresponding forum posts. I can’t get any of it out of my head. Who or what are “they”? And why would someone go through the trouble of sealing off that tunnel?

I checked the thread again this morning. All those replies were gone.

I hoped that maybe they’d all just been part of my nightmares last night, but no, I had copied and pasted them directly into the draft of this post so I know they did exist, they just didn’t anymore for whatever reason.

I stood in the bathroom this morning, brushing my teeth and trying to decide whether I should just go to work and pretend none of this was happening or if I should call in sick and head back into the crawlspace to figure out what on earth was going on underneath my home.

The logical part of me was screaming to let it go, to just move on (and maybe move, period), but the other part—the part that’s been nagging at me ever since I found those damn tracks—wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t just leave it alone. I had to know more.

My brain was fighting a tug of war between fear and curiosity. I’ve always been curious to a fault, never able to look away or let things go. Yeah this was all weird and none of it felt right, but THERE ARE FREAKING SECRET MINE TRAIN TRACKS UNDER MY HOUSE! 10 year old me would think I was the luckiest man in the world and would punch me if he found out I’d just given up exploring them because I got scared of… something.

Who knows — maybe the noises, the voices, they’re just figments of my imagination, the result of too little sleep and too much excitement and anxiety, and maybe the thread replies were bots or something and that’s why they got deleted. In retrospect it sounds stupid, I know, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew I couldn’t just ignore what I’d found. There was something down there, something buried for over a hundred years, and it was calling to me.

So, I made the decision. I called in sick, threw on some old clothes, and headed to the hardware store. I picked up a better dust mask, a couple of heavy-duty work lights (those bright halogen ones on stands that can light up a whole room), extension cords, a headlamp, and a sledgehammer. I figured if I was going back down there, I wasn’t going to let the darkness mess with my head again. I needed to see everything clearly this time, no shadows, no dinky flashlight. Just the mundane, grounded reality of what’s beneath my house.

Back home, I set up the lights around the crawlspace, making sure every corner was lit up, especially the area near the tracks. It felt a little better being able to see the whole place lit up (even though there were still some areas in shadow due to all the support beams down there), but that oppressive feeling was still there, like the walls were closing in on me. Having everything lit up really revealed how cramped the space was, making it feel smaller and more claustrophobic. Also, halogen lights put out a LOT of heat, so with all of them turned on in that already stuffy crawlspace it was downright uncomfortable.

I slowly made my way to the far end of the crawlspace, following the tracks to where I found the sealed-off entrance yesterday. The plaster covering it looked old and brittle, like it had been hastily slapped on. I could see a sparse network of lath that had been used to support the plaster, but it was so old and poorly applied that I was sure my sledgehammer would make quick work of it.

I sat there for a few minutes, the sledgehammer in my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. Once again, every part of me started screaming to leave it alone, to walk away, but I couldn’t. I had come this far, and I needed to know what was behind that seal. So, I swung the sledgehammer and broke through.

The plaster crumbled easily and the lath splintered into tiny shards, falling away and tumbling down into the sloping hole beyond. I kept smashing the plaster, scraping the sledgehammer around the edges of the opening to knock off any sharp chunks and create a narrow opening just big enough to crawl through.

I stopped and waited for the sound of of the skittering pieces of plaster to die down until the whole crawlspace was dead silent. I hesitated, my heartbeat pounding loudly in my ears. I waited anxiously, sure that I at any moment I’d here a distant voice whispering, or the sound of someone crawling up the newly uncovered passage toward me. But there was nothing.

Everything was quiet.

I took a deep breath, clicked on my headlamp, and crawled inside the opening to the tunnel, the light’s beam cutting through the dust and darkness. The tunnel was narrower and rough-hewn, maybe 5 ft wide and 5 ft tall. I didn’t have to crawl, but I had to hunch to fit inside. The air was colder, damper, and smelled strange, metallic and burnt.

I could see old wooden support beams lining the walls, their surfaces pitted and splintered, and the tracks continued further down into the earth, disappearing into the darkness. Even as scared as I was, even as wrong as this all felt, the little boy inside me was squealing with excitement. This was without a doubt t...

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