I used to shower with my bathroom door open just a crack. For whatever dumb reason, the tiny, cramped apartment bathroom I’ve had to deal with for the last nine years or so loves to steam and fog up, even with the water on warm instead of hot. And, since my crappy as hell landlord refused to fix the ceiling mounted fan which would have ventilated the room, along with the fact it caused the ancient off white paint to sweat and start developing mold patches in any other case, something which he would’ve charged me to clean, I made the decision to leave the door open a bit to allow to steam to escape. For almost a decade, nothing out of the ordinary happened, and I went about my daily life, the habit becoming a routine in my mind.

That was, up until two months or so ago.

You see, I was alone that day. My roommate had gone out for the day to take part in some bowling tournament, and I had the run of the place for the next four to six hours. As it was my day off from work, I decided to start it off with a long, hot, relaxing shower. So, I grabbed a fresh set of towels from the small closet next to my bedroom door, stepped inside, and, after turning on the water to let it warm up, I hopped in. I’d just lathered the shampoo up in my hair when I heard a noise come from just outside the bathroom. It was almost masked by the sound of the water splashing down on me and the floor of the tub, but it was out of place enough that I caught it. Scrape. It was almost the sound you’d hear if you dragged long fingernails down the wall. I froze, the shampoo dripping down over my face making it difficult to see anything at all. The sound came again. Scrape. For a moment, the thought of someone breaking in flashed through my mind; after all, the neighborhood I live in has the nickname of “Methpire” for a reason. But, if someone had broken a window or forced the lock, I would’ve heard it. The place isn’t exactly big enough to miss those sounds.

Finally, I opened my mouth. “Tyler?” Instantly, the sound, which had begun to repeat itself for a third time, ceased, the entire place going silent, save for the water. I felt a small wave of annoyance zap through me. Tyler, this better not be another one of your games, I thought as I hurriedly washed the shampoo out of my hair. My roommate had a habit, being a horror junkie, in delighting in attempting to play pranks on me, knowing I had a tendency to be a little jumpy. Without shutting off the water, I reached out, grabbed a towel off the rack, and stepped out, wrapping it around my waist. “Tyler, I swear to God, if this is another attempt to scare me, I’m going to kick your ass!” I called, striding across the tiled floor and yanking the door all the way open. I looked around. There was nobody in the living room, or the kitchen which opened off of it. I glanced around, then, just to ease my own mind, I walked, first to my bedroom, then Tyler’s, looking in. Both were empty, and there wasn’t exactly any place for someone to quickly hide in either of them.

Huh. I must’ve just been hearing things. Shrugging my shoulders, I turned and jumped back into the shower to finish up. That evening, when Tyler came back home from celebrating with his team, apparently having blitzed the competition, I decide to question him as we sat at the kitchen table, eating Chinese takeout. “Hey, Ty?” I asked casually, glancing up from my chopsticks. “Yeah?” he mumbled out through a mouthful of his food, causing me to roll my eyes at his lack of manners. “You didn’t happen to come home earlier today for a moment, did you?” He looked up at me, a slightly perplexed expression on his face. “Nah, man. I was at the alley until three, and out drinking with the boys until five. Why?” I searched his face. The guy had a tendency to chew a little too much when he was bullshitting me; it was a tell I’d learned to spot of his, thanks to endless nights of playing poker against one another. “No reason. Just, thought I’d heard something while I was in the shower this morning” I looked at him, smirking slightly. “Thought you might’ve come back to grab something you needed, and decided to try and pull one over on me again”

He let out a huge burp in response, then reached forward and grabbed his bottle of Coke, tilting it back and taking a swig. “No, man” he said simply, using the back of his sleeve to wipe his lips, “Besides, if I’d come back and tried to scare you, you’d have known it” He let out a low laugh, one which, after a moment of studying him, I shared. He was clearly telling the truth. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, bro” I said, dropping my chopsticks into the empty container and hocking it over my shoulder into the trash can. He leaned back, and, using his own empty container, feigned being a basketball player and acted like he was making a free throw; the container bounced off the edge, making us both laugh. I pushed what had to be a trick of my mind out of my head, and the two of us spent the rest of the night playing video games and downing beer.

The next week went by without any other strange noises, and I almost completely forgot the strange incident. Ty had gone out for the evening on a date, and after binge watching all three Creature from the Black Lagoon movies, I flicked the television off and headed for the shower. Hopping in, I softly hummed some 50s tune stuck in my mind and lathered myself up with soap. I’d just put the shampoo in my hair, when I heard the scraping sound again. This time, it was a bit louder, and I knew it hadn’t been my imagination. I became still as a statue again, my head under the water and blurred between it and the shampoo slowly being rinsed out of it of its own accord. I almost held my breath, listening. The sound came again; this time, instead of on the wall, the scrape clearly came from the wooden doorway to the bathroom. I felt my heart thudding hard in my chest. Then, my eyes widened as I saw a shadow filter through the opaque shower curtain. It was the shadow of the bathroom door slowly opening.

I found my voice. “Who’s out there?!” I called, attempting to sound as tough and authoritative as I could. Just like last time, the moment I spoke up, all movement and sound ceased, the apartment going silent. This time, however, the air almost felt charged, as if the tension in it were palpable enough to be cut with by a knife. I reached out, wrapping my fingers around the edge of the curtain as I grabbed the closest thing I could find as a weapon: a full bottle of shampoo. It was a pathetic weapon which likely wouldn’t faze any intruder, but, it was still better than nothing. Taking a deep breath, I wrenched the curtain back, the sound of the hooks scraping on the metal pole almost sounding like a scream in the quiet. Just like last time, there was no sign of a soul. The only thing that gave away that anything had changed, was that the bathroom door was, indeed, standing wide open; the darkened outline of the living room beyond made me feel uneasy. I couldn’t place why, but it almost felt as if the gloom held a threatening atmosphere. Shutting off the water, I stepped out and wrapped the towel around my waist.

Stepping to the doorway, I reached out into the dark and felt around the edge of the door until my fingers found the light switch. Instantly, the dark was banished away by the bright white light overhead. I could see that nobody was in sight in the living room. This time, however, I wasn’t taking any chances. Water still dripping off me, I strode across the living room to where I’d dropped my belt I wore when out on the job as a plumber. I reached down and pulled a rather large pipe wrench from its place, gripping it with wet, and, admittedly, slightly shaky hands. The kitchen was clearly devoid of life, and I focused my vision on the two bedrooms, which lay dark. My door was wide open, but Ty’s was slightly closed. I glanced at the hook on the wall, noting that his car keys weren’t hanging from them next to mine. He’s not home, which means….shit. I felt my muscles tense up. I seriously didn’t want to deal with some homeless junkie who had someone gotten himself inside and was trying to find something to steal, or worse, attack me in some drug fueled rage.

I forced myself to speak loudly and tough as I could. “I’m warning you; if anyone is in here, I am armed!” I didn’t add the fact it was a wrench and not a gun. “If you come out and just leave, this’ll go a lot easier!” Silence. The only sound I could hear was a car passing by outside. I called again. “Look, I’m in no mood for this, so come out, and get the hell out of my place!” Still nothing. But, I felt an odd sensation, one which caused the hairs on my arms to stand up straight, even damp. It was the feeling of being watched. My eyes caught the flicker of movement. A shadow seemed to draw back away from my roommate’s half closed door. I knew right there and then I should’ve called the cops, but, some dumb sense of bravado had come over me, and I wanted to be like those tough guys in the older movies, taking care of things themselves. “This is your final warning!” I called to the bedroom. After about twenty seconds of more silence, I drew in a deep breath, raised the wrench as high over my head as I could, and, letting out a bellowing yell, dashed for the bedroom door as if I were simultaneously a football linebacker, and an Olympic torch carrier.

I burst into the room like a charging bull, the door smashing into the wall behind it with the sickening crunch of plaster breaking. I shot my free arm out and wrenched the light switch up. The room was empty. Ty’s scattered clothes, records and game cases lay strewn about the floor like always. I looked around. The closet. Each of us had a small, walk in style closet on the far wall of our respective rooms. Taking another deep breath, and still holding the wrench above my head like a caveman’s club, I strode to the sliding doors and grabbed the handle, yanking it open with a scream of protest from its track. I forced aside the clothes hanging on the rack. Nothing. As I stared at the back wall, the feeling of being stared at came again, this time from almost directly behind me. I swear I could actually feel someone – or something, breathing down my neck.

Moving on pure instinct, I pivoted around and swung the wrench with all the strength I had – at nothing. There was nothing and nobody behind me. What the actual hell is going on here? I wondered. As I stood there, feeling as though something had been behind me and had simply dematerialized out of existence when I turned and swung, I heard the sound of a key in the front door, then the laughs of Ty and what had to be his date as they stepped inside. “I’m telling you, you did great at darts, babe!” Ty exclaimed. Both of them stopped and stared at me when they reached his bedroom door. I know I must’ve looked weird, standing in his room wearing only a towel and holding a wrench. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “..Uh, Jimmy, boy, what the hell are you doing?” I blinked a few times, trying to find my voice. Finally, I spoke.

“I swear I heard someone in here, man” I said, my voice trailing off slightly. I saw the two of them exchange nervous looks. “What you mean, dude?” he asked, his eyes looking around. “I mean, I heard the exact same sound as last time, only the bathroom door swung open. I came out, thought I heard someone moving around in your room, and came in here” I replied, feeling only confusion and embarrassment sweep over me. I could tell he believed I had heard something, and to ease my worries, he had his date sit in the room, and together, we swept the place, looking in every closet and under both beds. But we found no trace of anyone. I shook my head as he prepared to go into his bedroom. “I don’t get it” I muttered softy. He patted me on the shoulder. “I think the bathroom door may just be a bit loose on its hinges, my dude” he said, trying to reassure me. “I’ll check it out in the morning. Go dry yourself off and get some sleep” He punched me lightly on the arm. “And hey, no scary movies late at night for you, okay? You’re starting to hear things go bump in the night for real!”

He let out a laugh, one which I mirrored, but didn’t feel. The feeling of eyes on me had vanished, but the apartment still held an uneasy feeling. It stayed as I dried off, dressed into a pair of pajama bottoms, and climbed into bed. I could hear Ty in the next room, doing exactly what I figured he’d be doing with his date, and rolled my eyes. Hearing that shit gets old after a while. Still, I reached out, grabbed the remote and flicked on the small TV on my bureau for background noise. It took a very long time to drift off to sleep that night, and when I did, my dreams – nightmares, actually, were of a dark, shadowy figure creeping slowly towards my ajar bathroom door, the sounds of the shower on spilling out from it. As it reached out to push open the door, I snapped awake, sitting straight up in bed with a sheen of sweat covering my face and body.

For the next two weeks, I tried as hard as possible not to stay alone in that place. I only showered when I could hear my friend moving around in his room, or out in the living room. Whenever I knew Ty was going out for any reason, I’d either find an excuse to join him, or just go out and do something in town. The sense of being watched hadn’t returned after that night, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Something about the place just, felt like it had changed. Something almost imperceptible, which I couldn’t place. But, it seemed to do the trick, as nothing weird or creepy happened.

Then, one day, as I was sitting in a café sipping on a coffee, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, and saw it was my boss calling me. Great, on my day off I thought exasperatedly, then hit the button to answer it. “Yeah?” Instantly, I heard the gruff voice of Rick, my boss on the other end, yelling to someone else. “No, no, no! Steven, how many times do I have to tell you, counter-clock ways!” His voice got louder as he must’ve put it back to his head. “James, you there?” he asked. “Yep” I replied simply. He let out a sigh. “Look, I know today’s your day off, but we’re over here at the Bannerman property, and two of the pipes burst” He let out a long groan of frustration. “One of them is real bad. I’m able to get one of them fixed, but, our new employee” his voice took on an undisguised tone of disgust, “decided to make it worse by fucking the pipe up worse” He finished, letting a moment of silence spread out before speaking again. “So, I apologize, but I need you to come in. You’ll get paid overtime, of course” I nodded, more to myself than anything, then let out a sigh of my own. “Yeah, I’ll be in. Just let me swing by my place and pick up my tools” I said.

“Don’t forget to quickly hit the shower before getting over here, James” he quickly added, “You know old man Bannerman gets pissy about anyone not being freshly clean coming in here, due to being a germophobe. So, I’ll expect you to be here in thirty minutes” And with that, he clicked off before I could say anything. Not that I could, anyways. At the mention of a shower, I felt a shiver run up my spine. I knew Ty was out; his bowling team was off in the next town on another tournament. Which would mean I’d have to shower in the empty apartment. And that’s something I really do not want to do. But, I had no choice. If I just grabbed my tools and slipped into my jumpsuit, I’d get chewed out, first by Old Man Bannerman, and then Rick for not following orders set down both by him, and the man we’d contracted to repair and replace the pipes of his huge sprawling mansion.

Sighing, I paid for my coffee and drove back to the apartment. When I opened the door, I had a flash of panic seize through me. I thought the feeling I’d had before would come back as soon as I stepped inside. But, the apartment felt normal, the cloudy light filtering in through the half open kitchen and living room window blinds. I looked around, then shook my head. Stop being such a baby, Jimmy. There’s nothing in here except you. You’ll be fine, just take the shower, and book it. Feeling more resolved, I strode across to my room, gathering my undershirt and jumpsuit. For peace of mind, I also grabbed the same pipe wrench I’d held that night from the belt hanging over the edge of the couch, and carried it into the bathroom with me, placing it on top of the pile of clothes sitting on the toilet lid. For a moment, I debated on just closing the bathroom door, but, like the previous feeling, shook it away and left it ajar. Ty should’ve fixed the hinges by now, anyways.

I reached into the shower and turned the water on, waiting for it to warm up. After I saw the steam begin to rise out from over the curtain, I stepped inside, grabbing the bar of soap and quickly beginning to scrub myself. I rinsed myself off with no problems, then grabbed the shampoo and lathered up my hair. As I scrubbed into my scalp, the soap began to drip down into my eyes, obscuring my vision. That’s when I heard the scraping sound come again. Only this time, it was much louder and more pronounced than any time I’d heard it before. I felt a chill run up my spine, despite the hot water flowing down over it. It came again, just outside the bathroom door. I took a deep breath. “Tyler?” I called out, thinking the sound would stop as it had both times before. But this time, it didn’t. Instead, I heard it scrape louder, almost on the bathroom door itself. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw the dark shape of the bathroom door swing open.

And then, the bathroom lights flicked off, plunging me into darkness. There was still a little light filtering in from the living room, but everything was now in gloom. What. The. Fuck. My heart was thundering in my chest as I slowly stepped back. I knew the distance from the edge of the tub to the toilet seat where my wrench lay was less than two feet. I could reach out and snatch it in a heartbeat. The scraping sound came again, loud as I’d ever heard it; it came from inside the bathroom somewhere, near the door. And then it stopped entirely. Aside from the sound of the water running, the apartment fell silent. Not a deadly silence, not a tension filled silence, just, silent. I stared for the longest time, what had to be only about fifteen seconds, but what felt like two hours, at the dim outline of the open door. I saw nothing. I turned to pull the curtain next to me back. And I screamed.

The dark outline of a figure, darker than any of the rest of the gloom, stood almost directly on the other side of the curtain, less than a foot from me. If it’d been any closer, it would’ve been pressing into the curtain itself. It stood completely motionless, though I could tell it was looking in my direction from the feeling washing over me in waves, sending a tsunami of chills through me. I couldn’t tell whether it was a man or woman, or hell, if it was even human. It was a human like figure; that was all I could tell. My breath came out in a ragged gasp, and I involuntarily let out a whisper. “Oh, fuck me…”

That was when it lunged at me. I let out a loud scream as the curtain pressed in against its weight, wrapping around it, and subsequently me as I saw arms reaching out to grab me. The momentum of it smashing into me caused me to slip on the wet shower floor, and I went flying backwards. My head smashed into the tub’s faucet, causing me to let out a cry of pain and stars to flash in my vision as I fell to the floor of the tub. It was still there, as I could feel it on top of me, but it never let out a single sound. Something sharp jabbed into my leg, and I let out another scream at the sudden explosion of pain come from my thigh. Another jammed into my shoulder, and I kicked out at the dark figure inches from my face through the curtain. I felt it impact something, but it seemed to have no effect. Another stab of pain came from my shoulder as whatever it was using, a weapon or…claws, jammed into the wound it had already made. I kept screaming as I thrashed around, trying to jam myself into a position where I could reach out.

I heard furious knocking coming from my front door, but it sounded like it was a mile away. “Help me!” I screamed as loudly as I could, still lashing out. Just as I began to feel woozy, I felt my hand brush the edge of the toilet seat, and with it, the cold metal handle of my wrench. Grabbing it as hard as I could, I swung out with all my remaining strength into what had to be the head of the thing. It seemed to stumble a bit at the blow, and I used that precious second to wrench myself out from underneath it, tumbling over the edge of the tub and onto the bathroom floor. I heard it thrashing about with the fallen shower curtain, furiously tearing at it in an attempt to get to me. But I was stumbling to my feet, noting as I did the amount of blood falling to the floor. I struggled to the front door as I heard it finally break free, crashing back onto the bathroom floor, but still remaining silent. I unlocked the door and tore it open, revealing the concerned face of my next door neighbor.

When he saw my condition, his face paled. Before I had a chance to say anything, I yelled. “I’m being attacked, it’s in there!” pointing back towards the bathroom. Grabbing me, he pulled me into his open apartment door, slamming it closed and locking it. He quickly brought me a bathrobe and called the police. As he did, I could hear the sounds of it tearing through the apartment, doing God only knows what. It stayed that way until I heard the wail of sirens coming down the road, at which point, I heard everything fall silent in my apartment. A few moments later, I heard the thundering of steps pound up the stairs to the second floor, followed by the yell of the officers. After a few minutes, my neighbor and I heard the hard knock at his door. “Police!”

I was helped to an ambulance, where I was taken to the hospital. In addition to splitting open my scalp on the faucet, I’d been cut up pretty badly, though by what, the doctors couldn’t tell me. They couldn’t even tell themselves. “It’s the damndest thing” one told me as they sewed the wounds closed, “If it hadn’t been for the fact you’d seen a person, I would’ve said you’d been attacked by an animal. These look like puncture wounds from claws!”

The police never found a trace of what had attacked me. I already knew they wouldn’t. It wasn’t a man who’d attacked me. It hadn’t even been human. The case is still open to this day, though I’ve long since stopped getting update calls from the detectives in charge of the case. Tyler and I moved out of the apartment as soon as I left the hospital; he chose to stay at his new girlfriend’s house while I recovered. He’s under the belief I was attacked by an intruder, as is everyone else I know. I just say that whenever anyone asks about it. It’s easier that way, then trying to explain what I know won’t be believed. That’s why I’m posting this here. I just, feel the need to have to tell someone what actually happened to me that day. This is a place I know I’ll be believed, or at least, won’t be called nuts for it. That figure simply appeared on the other side of the curtain. I never saw it cross the room, and I know, even in the dark, I would have. And even then. Nothing human could possibly be been that silent.

I also know someone else moved into that apartment since then, though I don’t know who they are. I pray they won’t ever end up receiving a visit from…whatever that thing was. The two of us are now renting a nice, relatively cheap two bedroom house miles away from that place. I’ve never felt the sensation of being watched again, and I’ve thankfully never heard the scraping sound. At least, in my waking hours. I still hear it in my dreams, though. I still see that shape standing just on the other side of the curtain in the dark. It will likely stay there until the day I’m on my deathbed. I always feel tense now when I step into the bathroom to wash myself, but, I’ve thankfully always felt safe in this house.

I don’t shower with my door ajar, though. Not anymore. I make sure it’s closed and firmly locked before I undress and hop in. I’ve always felt safe in my new place, but, I’m not taking any chances.

Because I don’t know if it’s trapped in that apartment. Or if it can leave whenever it wants.