The Dark Corner in the Deceased Grandmother's Apartment

The Dark Corner

So listen, anon, the first and I hope the only TRUE creepy shit in my life, which I not only can't give a rational explanation for, but also shit my pants really seriously! I've been taking tranquilizers and a large amount of alcohol for a month now, but at the time of the creepy events I was completely sober. But let's take it from the top.
So, in the summer we buried grandma, and the inheritance was a three-room apartment in a khrushchyovka. The layout is in the pic. It was decided to do a light "cosmetic" renovation and rent it out, since I already live separately from my parents in a normal apartment. And since my parents work, the renovation became my responsibility. It's worth mentioning separately that I lived in this very apartment with my dead grandma and parents in early childhood, until I reached level 5 and we moved with the folks to a separate living space.
The renovation was no big deal, re-wallpaper a couple of spots and throw out all sorts of Soviet junk. So, until autumn I lived alone in this place and did the renovation. Honestly, being where my late grandma had lived quite recently (though she died not there, but in the hospital) was already uncomfortable, but that's not the point.
The point is that in this place my things went missing abnormally often. Too often even for such a slob as me. They just teleported to some pocket dimension. In about a week of staying there I lost a phone case, headphones, some snack bars I bought to eat, a comb, and other small stuff... Anyway, since I'm a nutjob and there was plenty of time between wallpapering, I searched the whole apartment and didn't find A SINGLE missing thing, so I started keeping an Excel table tracking the disappeared items. Here are just a few entries from it:
- 18.08, headphones, were on the armchair or nightstand in the bedroom
- 19.08, "3 korochki" croutons, were on the nightstand at the entrance to the bedroom
- 21.08, a bag of bags, fuck, was on the mezzanine in the bedroom
- 24.08, a cap, was on the sofa in the living room
- 27.08, a water bottle, was on the bed or on the nightstand in the bedroom
- 28.08, a vacuum cleaner attachment, was lying around somewhere in the living room
- 29.08, a pillowcase, was on the bed in the bedroom
So, as you can see, there was some pattern in the domovoi's rampage or the opening of a portal to a parallel world. Things disappeared that were a) small, b) NOT clearly fixed in memory, I only roughly remembered where they were, c) almost all things were lost in the BEDROOM or at its entrance.
(The bedroom in the layout is the room at the top. The living room is the walk-through room below it.)
And then, anon, bricks started slowly falling out of me.
First, this bedroom was doubly uncomfortable: the khrushchyovka was positioned so that light almost never reached its window even during the day, i.e., a shitty Soviet room with ugly gray wallpaper, always in semi-darkness, with a most picturesque view of an identical khrushchyovka standing 10 m away with ugly seams and gloomy windows. And I had to sleep there, since in the living room there was only an uncomfortable hard sofa, and in the 3rd small room everything was cluttered with wallpaper and other crap.
And in childhood I ALSO slept there with mom, dad in the living room, dead grandma in the small room.
And even then, as a little kid, I felt CREEPY in this room, especially alone in the evening or at night. Among other things, I was scared shitless of the so-called DARK CORNER, it's in the pic next to the window. If you lie on the bed and look straight up, you can see that very corner. Just a corner like any other, empty and seemingly nothing in it, but most of all in childhood I was scared shitless precisely of it. I remember that a couple of times, as it got dark, I imagined some ugly wrinkled face under the ceiling there, watching me. On the wallpaper in the corner there was some semicircular scratch resembling a crescent, it was visible even in the semi-darkness and also somehow made me uneasy. Actually, it wasn't me who dubbed this corner "dark", but grandma. I often misbehaved in childhood, scattered toys, etc., and one day grandma lost her temper and put me in the corner for an hour. Of course, damn it, exactly in that one. LUCKILY, I almost forgot that childhood episode. But I remember well grandma's story about how that day I ran to her room and started complaining that it was "very dark" and scary in the corner. In the end I finished my punishment in another corner in her room XD)
I said I "almost" forgot that evening. Some vague episodes still come to mind. Grandma even closed the room for severity, I'm standing, it's really somehow very dark in the corner, not enough light, and quite cold... I feel a gaze on me, as if something is sitting on the mezzanine and staring at me... Apparently after that I shit myself and ran away from there.
And I was recalling all this creepy shit while sitting alone in this cool gloomy place in a deserted neighborhood. That evening I went to sleep in the living room, having closed the bedroom door tightly. I woke up around 5 a.m. from a wild creak. The door opened, a fierce frosty draft came from the bedroom, though it was August and outside it was at least 20°C. Without thinking long, I quickly got dressed and fucked off outside, sat on a bench for a few hours like an idiot lol. I could only return when the sun was already bright.
And a day later I lost my phone. I don't remember how at all, must have fallen out of my pocket in that fucking bedroom when I was taking out the trash. And now, Antosha, if you've endured to the end of this fucking awesome story, the very PITH happened. The very zesty bit, fuck me.
I had a spare mobile, a button phone with a left SIM. And I decided, like, fuck you, poltergeist, I'll call now and you won't see my gayphone. So, around 10 p.m., already dark, I'm in the living room (thank God the door there was closed) dialing my number. And indeed I hear the melody, playing from somewhere in the bedroom. I'm happy, take a step forward.
And then someone picks up. I hear a rustling silence on the line.
And then I hear footsteps from the bedroom. In the receiver there's a nasty scraping, like when phones are too close to each other.
Then I'm not thinking logically anymore, in holey sweatpants half-naked I make a fucking LEAP like an Olympic athlete, THANK GOD the place is small, in 2 seconds I unlock the door, jump out into the stairwell and run the fuck away without even slamming the door. I came to my senses 2 blocks away on a bench, breathing as if near death, late passersby glanced at me like at a junkie but I didn't care. If I had hair, I'd be gray by now.
Also, when I already jumped out into the stairwell, I thought I heard again the creak of the door opening in the cursed bedroom, but that might have been imagined, my heart was pounding in my ears like a blacksmith's shop, fuck.

So that's the story. I never went back to the apartment, lied to my parents that urgent study matters came up, hired a crew with my own money to finish the renovation.
The very next day the crew leader called from there and in broken Russian said they had a "force majeure" and couldn't do the renovation. They even returned the money. I wonder what they didn't like about the apartment. Now my dad is doing the renovation there, I miraculously persuaded him not to stay there even overnight, because there are "harmful currents" and other psi-op radiation, luckily he's a fan of all those RenTV shows and easily falls for that.
I bought a new phone. Logged out of all sessions on the "lost" phone in Telegram and so on. I didn't see anything anomalous there, except, fuck, a chat with some chick. The message was "Are you crazy sending me that?" After thinking, I didn't even look at WHAT "I" had sent her, deleted the chat and blocked her.