12 May Do Not Go Outside
“Do Not Go Outside”
Written by Jordan B. Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
⏰ ESTIMATED READING TIME — 7 minutes
“Do not go outside! Ignore all cries for help, no matter how human they sound!” shouted Alex’s dad. He pulled the cellar door over and paused to look back. “And lock this door behind me.”
The door slammed shut. Alex locked it, walked down the stairs and stood alone in the darkness, moonlight shining through a crack under the door. The basement was freezing cold. She looked around the room. Nothing but junk. Toys from her childhood, broken furniture her dad had refused to throw away, stacks of books and newspapers, and her grandparents’ old possessions.
She rummaged around and found her grandfather’s recliner chair. Well, somewhere to sit, at least, she thought. Alex dragged an old bike out of the way and pushed the chair toward the middle of the floor. She searched through a chest of her grandmother’s belongings. Inside were a collection of porcelain figurines, some knitting needles and a hand mirror. Alex picked it up, wiped some dirt away and looked at her reflection. Over her right shoulder, she saw a blanket and some cushions stashed underneath an old photo album. They stank and were covered in dust. Everything was – but it was better than sitting there freezing. She reclined on the chair, wrapped the blanket around her and tried to sleep.
Alex was startled awake by something banging against the door. She pulled the blanket up towards her head and sat motionlessly. The banging stopped. As she was beginning to calm down there was a gentle knock. Maybe it’s just the wind, she told herself. Then came another knock, much louder than the first. There was a knot in the pit of her stomach. She tried to stay calm and told herself over and over that it was the wind, but was so unnerved she retreated toward the corner of the basement and took cover behind a nearby cabinet.
“Hello?” cried a voice opposite the door.
Alex’s eyes widened. She crouched even further behind the cabinet.
“Hello? Is… is there anybody there? Please… I… I really need somewhere to hide.”
The voice was faint and Alex could barely make it out. The knocking once again became a loud banging.
“Please, if anybody’s down there, I need help!”
Alex’s mind was racing. Who is this person? Why do they need help? Should I let them in? Her father’s warning echoed in her mind: ‘no matter how human they sound’. What did he mean by that? Alex noticed the moonlight shining through along the bottom of the door. Maybe if I get close enough I can see who it is, she thought.
She walked slowly to the middle of the room, past the chair and toward the stairs. Alex was so fixated on the door she tripped on a pile of books and crashed to the ground, knocking over the bike and a stack of newspapers.
The banging stopped. “He-hello? Is someone there? I can hear someone moving down there. Please, you have to let me in.”
The voice was much clearer now, but there was something peculiar about it. It sounded cold and emotionless. Neither male or female, nor young or old.
Alex moved to the bottom of the stairs, and eventually summoned the courage to speak.
“H-hello?”
“Please, yes. Hello, you have to help me! Can you let me in?”
Alex didn’t know what to do. The voice sounded desperate, but her dad’s warning was clear in her mind. She was too nervous to get any closer.
“Y-Yes. I’m here. But I’m not going to open the door for you.”
“What? Why? There’s something horrible running around out here. And if you don’t let me in it’ll get me. I’m in great danger. Please, open the door. Quickly!” cried the voice.
Alex felt a sense of dread overcome her. “What do you mean something horrible is out there? Who are you?”
“Look, there’s no time for that now! I’m in danger now! Why won’t you let me in? Won’t you help me?” The voice was getting angry.
“I – I won’t.”
“What? Why?”
“Because earlier my dad warned me not to open the door to anyone.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Please, just let me in.”
The banging against the door started again.
“What’s out there? Why are you in danger?”
“Open this damned door! Now!” the voice growled.
The banging stopped, and the gentle knocking started again. Alex was so scared she couldn’t speak – and she didn’t know what she would have said if she could. She didn’t want to antagonize whoever it was outside any further; it sounded like they were furious. She looked at the crack beneath the door and had an idea, that perhaps if she climbed the stairs and crouched down, she’d be able to look underneath. Maybe she’d be in a position to see the person outside and what they looked like.
She ascended the stairs quietly and crouched beside the door when the knocking stopped. She froze for a moment in uncertainty, before lying down and peering out. There was nothing. All she could see was the back garden. She let out a sigh of relief. Maybe they were gone? She had just turned to walk down the stairs when there was another loud bang against the door. Alex jumped in fright, forced to grab the railing to keep herself from falling.
“Please, I’m begging you! Let me in!”
The banging continued. Catching her breathe Alex crouched down to look outside again. She still couldn’t see anything. No feet, no legs, no… anything. She saw nobody under the door, yet someone was furiously banging against it, begging her to let them in. Alex fought the urge to cry.
“Please, I know you’re there. I’m in terrible danger! How can you just sit there and not let me in?”
Alex faced the door and tried to regain her composure. She had an idea. As the voice continued to plea for help, she crept down the stairs and opened her grandmother’s old chest. She grabbed the hand mirror and returned to the door.
“Please, please, please!” the voice begged, as the banging continued.
Alex lay flat on her stomach and nervously pushed the mirror toward the door. She tilted and slid it around, trying to see as much as possible. No matter what she did, Alex couldn’t see anyone. The pace of her breathing quickened and she began to feel a tightness in her chest.
“I am not opening this door. Before he left my dad warned me not to open it for anyone. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why you’re here. You shout about needing help and being in danger, but you won’t explain why–”
“But I told you, there’s n–”
“And besides, I can’t see you underneath the damn door. You’re hiding somewhere. I can see the back garden through that slit under the door with my mirror, but I can’t see you. If you just want help, then why are you hiding?”
She pulled the mirror back and stood up. The voice began to laugh.
“You’re smart to keep the door shut. Your dad was right to warn you.” The voice sounded calmer this time, nearly whispering.
“What do you mean? Who are you?”
“I wasn’t lying before… There is something horrible out here.”
“You’re just some maniac trying to scare me.” Alex turned to walk back down the stairs.
“Oh, really? Put your mirror back down and have another look.”
Reluctantly, with a hand on the rail, Alex crouched down and peered through the crack again. Nothing. Her hand was trembling.
“You’re still hiding. Why d–”
“Closer,” the voice said softly.
Alex got down on her front and slid toward the door, straining to see as much as she could in the mirror. She could barely keep her grip.
“Almost there.”
Pausing for a moment, Alex took a deep breath and pressed her head as close to the door as she could. Then, sounding as though it were mere inches in front of her, the voice whispered, “Hello.” Alex screamed in fright as the mirror was ripped from her hands and pulled away from her.
She screamed again, and the voice started laughing. This was followed by more banging, faster and with more force than ever. Alex raced back down the stairs. She crouched down behind the chair, stared at the door and burst into tears. The banging kept getting louder; the cellar door sounded as though it was breaking apart.
“I’m not letting you in! Go away! Go away!”
On the verge of hysteria, Alex collapsed behind the chair. After taking a moment to regain her composure, she stood over the chair and took a deep breath.
“Wh-what are you?”
The banging stopped.
“What difference does that make? You know I’m out here and you won’t let me in.” The voice sounded amused.
“Tell me what you are!”
“It would be much easier to show you. Why not open the door and I ca–”
“No!” she screamed. “Tell me what you are! Tell me why I can’t see you!”
The voice laughed and started banging on the door again. Alex climbed behind the cabinet, pulled the blanket over her head and covered her ears with her hands. She rocked back and forth until she was calm enough to lie down. The banging turned into a gentle knocking, and then grew fainter and fainter, until at last it stopped completely. She tried to calm herself down and steady her breathing. She lay in silence for what felt like minutes – or maybe it was hours – unsure whether she was awake or asleep. Then there was another knock at the door, less violent than before.
“Alex. Alex, are you there?”
It was her father’s voice. She crept out from behind the cabinet, looked at the door, and saw sunlight shining through.
“Alex, it’s Dad. Alex, are you there? Please, please, tell me you’re alright.”
She leapt out from behind the furniture and looked at the stairs. Under the door, she could see the shadow of her dad standing outside. Alex let out a sigh of relief and raced up the stairs.
“Dad! Where were you? There was something outside and it was trying to get me to open the door.”
“Alex, honey, thank God you’re safe. Come, open the door. We have to get out of here now.”
She undid the lock and burst through the door, ready to hug her dad and let out a cry of relief.
“Dad, I–”
Alex looked around in confusion. She couldn’t see her dad anywhere. The garden was empty.
“Dad? Dad?!”
She was overcome with terror. Alex ran back into the basement, slammed the door shut and bolted the lock. She shot back down the stairs and stood quivering in the middle of the room. She frantically looked around, making sure she was alone. Some books collapsed from the pile in front of her and she screamed. Just some books, she thought as she tried to catch her breath. Feeling a sense of unease, Alex climbed back beneath the cabinet and pulled the blanket over her head.
There was a gleeful whisper.
“So nice of you to let me in.”
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by Jordan B. Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/A🔔 More stories from author: Jordan B.
Publisher's Notes: N/A Author's Notes: N/AMore Stories from Author Jordan B.:
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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).