My sister called me to pick her up from a party
My sister called me to pick her up from a party
It had been one of those lazy nights—the kind where no one really had a plan but didn’t want to call it quits, either. The four of us were...
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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Ok-Counter-9441 on 2024-11-19 13:02:46+00:00.
It had been one of those lazy nights—the kind where no one really had a plan but didn’t want to call it quits, either. The four of us were packed into Greg’s basement, sprawled across old beanbags and couch cushions that smelled faintly of dust and cheap cologne. Someone had dug out a pack of old marlboros, and Greg had tossed on some album that was mostly static and ghostly guitar riffs. Tommy was doing his best impression of our principal, using a deep, absurd voice, much to everyone’s amusement.
I leaned back against the wall, watching my friends goof around and trying to tune out a low-grade sense of restlessness. It was rare these days that we got to just hang out like this, With everyone busy—part-time jobs, classes, family stuff—we were lucky to get a few hours together, let alone a whole evening. I was grateful for it, even if it was just hanging out in a musty basement, swapping bad jokes.
We had spent the last hour eating stale chips and debating whether it was worth going out for food, but every time we got close to agreeing, someone would start up another conversation, and we would all settle back down. Kev was in the middle of a story about some disastrous date he’d had last week when my phone buzzed, the sound cutting through the quiet laughter and casual hum of the night.
I didn’t think much of it at first—probably my mom asking when I’d be home, or some random group text lighting up. But when i glanced at the screen, I saw my sister’s name, glowing urgently in the dim light. It was rare for her to call this late, even rarer for her to call me at all. We got along fine, but our lives don’t exactly overlap. She was younger, more into her own scene, and she usually kept me out of her business.
“Hang on a sec,” i mumbled, stepping away from the group to answer the call. I could tell right away something was off; I didn’t even have to say hello. Her voice was rushed, almost a whisper, and there was noise in the background—music, people arguing, someone yelling like they were way too drunk.
“Casey?” she said, her voice almost swallowed up by the noise. “Hey, can you…can you come pick me up?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” i replied, thrown off by the tension in her voice. “You okay?”
There was a pause, the sound of her moving away from the crowd. “Not really,” she admitted, a strain in her voice. “The party’s getting weird. We have a…situation. I don’t know how to explain it, but can you just get here fast?”
That was all it took. I glanced back at the guys, all of whom had gone silent, listening in as I finished the call. “We gotta go,” I said, feeling a prickle of worry. I didn’t explain, but they didn’t ask. They all just stood, shaking off the comfort of the night and grabbing their jackets, feeling a shared sense of urgency settle over them.
“Guess we’re going for a drive,” Kev said, trying to keep it light as we all piled into Greg’s car. But even he was quieter than usual, and I could feel my own tension spreading to the others.
Greg’s car rattled as it picked up speed, the low hum of the engine filling the silence that had settled over us. I sat in the passenger seat, my fingers drumming nervously against my thigh as I tried to explain where we are headed. We all knew the city well, but even I wasn’t exactly sure where this party was, and every turn we took seemed to make the streets feel less familiar.
“So, she told me it was somewhere off East Monroe,” I said, staring out the windshield. “It’s this big old house at the end of the block. She said it’s the one with the porch lights that flicker.”
Greg nodded, his eyes fixed on the road, though his shoulders were tense, hands gripped a little too tightly around the wheel. “East Monroe? There’s nothing but old houses down there, right? People usually don’t throw parties there.”
“That’s what I thought,” I replied, glancing at Greg. “But I guess some college kid’s renting it now. Or maybe they just snuck in. Either way, she said it was packed.”
Tommy leaned forward from the backseat, his voice a low murmur. “Did she say why she wanted to leave so bad?”
I shook my head. “Not really. She just sounded…different. Said there was some situation.”
“Situation?” Kev asked, his voice filled with forced lightness, trying to break the tension. “You think there's something shady going on?”
I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know how to put it into words, but her voice had sounded wrong. Like there was something she was afraid to say, something she didn’t even want to put into words over the phone.
“Nah, nothing like that,” I finally said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “Probably just some people got too drunk or whatever. But let’s just get there quick, alright?”
The streetlights threw long, uneven shadows as we drove, and I felt the weight of those shadows settling around us. The houses passed by, silent and dark, like they were holding secrets. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the city was different tonight—emptier, darker, like something was crouched just beyond the glow of the headlights, watching.
Tommy, sensing the mood, let out a shaky laugh. “Man, you guys are acting like we’re about to walk into some horror movie,” he said, though his voice was a little too loud, a little too forced. “It’s just a party. We pick her up, and we’re out of there in five minutes.”
“Right,” Greg muttered, glancing at me. “Five minutes. In and out.”
We pulled up a few houses down, parking under a half-dead tree that cast warped shadows across the hood of Greg’s car. The house we were looking at, the one my sister had described, was at the end of the block, its dim porch light flickering in a slow, irregular pattern. But everything else about it seemed…off.
Greg cut the engine, and the silence hit us like a weight. No bass thumping from inside the house, no laughter drifting out into the night, no sounds of people spilling onto the porch for a smoke or some air. The place looked abandoned, except for the dim yellow light over the door, swaying slightly in the breeze. It was a big house, three stories tall, the kind of place that felt like it had its own ghost stories. The windows were dark, and the yard was overgrown, as if no one had cared for it in years.
“You sure this is the right spot, man?” Kev asked from the back, leaning forward to get a better look. He squinted, peering through the darkness like he could will the place to look more lively.
“This should be it,” I said, pulling out my phone and trying to call my sister. I waited, listening to the ringing, but it went to voicemail.
“Maybe they all went somewhere else?” Tommy offered, though even he sounded unconvinced. “Or it ended early. I mean, it’s almost one in the morning.”
I shook my head, staring hard at the house. “She’d have texted me if she was leaving. Or if she needed a ride somewhere else.” But she hadn’t texted, hadn’t left me any clue except her tense, hurried call.
Greg took a deep breath, glancing nervously at all of us before nodding toward the house. “Maybe we should just…go up, check it out. If she’s not there, we’ll head out. But at least we’ll know.”
None of us moved at first, as if the idea of actually going up to the house had caught us all off-guard. But then I opened the door, breaking the spell, and one by one, the rest followed, stepping out onto the quiet, empty street.
We walked slowly, each step echoing a little too loudly in the silence, as if we were the only people left in the city. The street was lined with darkened houses, every window empty and watching, giving me the eerie sense that something was waiting. I led the way, my hands shoved deep in my pockets, with Greg right behind me, my gaze fixed on the house, as if I was hoping my sister would step onto the porch.
As we reached the sidewalk, Kev glanced at us and whispered, “This place looks like it hasn’t seen a party in decades. Are we sure this isn’t, like, someone’s grandma’s house?”
Tommy chuckled, a nervous sound that broke too soon. “If she’s waiting for us inside that place, I’m not going in without a weapon.”
“Relax,” I muttered. I wasn’t sure why the house felt so wrong, but it did, and I couldn’t shake it.
We climbed the creaky steps to the porch, and I tried to call my sister one more time, letting it ring as we started at the cracked, peeling front door. It felt like the night was holding its breath, waiting for us to make the next move.
When all of a sudden, the door started to creak
It swung open slowly, as if someone—or something—inside had been watching us the whole time, waiting for us to come close. The hinges moaned, loud in the night, and the door opened just enough to reveal pitch-black darkness inside. It was so dark it seemed to swallow the light from the street, an unnatural kind of dark, as if it didn’t want us to see what lays within.
Greg swallowed, his hand hovering just inches from the door, and my heart was racing, each beat louder than the last.
And then, finally, my sister picked up her phone.
“Casey?” Her voice was low, urgent, barely more than a whisper. “Casey, listen to me. I’m…I’m not in the house anymore. I don’t know how to explain it, but you need to leave. Now. Don’t ask questions. Just get out of there. Please.”
Her words hit me like ice water, sending a shiver down my spine. I looked around at my friends, who were watching me with tense, anxious expressions.
“But—” i started to say, but she cut me off.
“Casey, pleas...
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