The old house had always been a bit creaky. John had gotten used to the settling sounds, the groans of the wood as the temperature changed. But last night was different. It wasn’t the familiar sigh of the house; it was something… else.

He was drifting off to sleep, the weight of the day finally releasing its grip, when he heard it. A distinct scratching sound, coming from inside the ceiling. Not on the roof, buffeted by wind, but inside.

John froze. At first, he tried to rationalize it. Maybe a squirrel? But squirrels didn’t usually nest inside ceilings. The scratching continued, a frantic, desperate sound, punctuated by what sounded like soft thumps.

A wave of icy fear washed over him. His mind raced, conjuring images from horror movies, tales of infestations, and urban legends. He grabbed his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face in the darkness. The scratching intensified, followed by a low, guttural growl that sent shivers down his spine.

He considered calling someone, but who? The police? “Hello, yes, there’s something growling in my ceiling?” They’d think he was crazy. Pest control? At this hour?

Suddenly, the scratching stopped. An unnerving silence descended upon the room, heavier and more oppressive than the sounds had been. John held his breath, every nerve on high alert. Then, a new sound: a slow, deliberate dragging, as if something heavy was being pulled across the attic floor directly above him.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He threw back the covers, grabbed a heavy flashlight from his nightstand, and crept towards the door. He had to know. He had to see what was up there. He reached for the attic hatch pull-down, steeling himself for whatever waited on the other side.

What do you think he found? Share your theories in the comments below!