The Gurgling
I live in a small apartment by myself, on the fifth floor. One night, a while back, I heard strange noises coming from down the hall. They weren’t shouts and they weren’t banging noises and they weren’t people fucking. They were weird. They sounded like gurgling. Loud gurgling. Normally I don’t give a damn about what goes on in the rooms around me; my stance changes when whatever is going on pisses me off. These gurgling noises were doing just that. So, I left my apartment and headed towards the door at the end of the hallway, which seemed to be the source of the sound. I banged on the door and shouted at whoever happened to be in there to shut the hell up. I stayed in front of the door for a little while to see if the noises would stop. They didn’t. I banged again and shouted again. I heard a door open behind me, but I didn’t turn around. I knew it was some other stupid tenant who was pissed at me for shouting. Well, I was pissed at the gurgling noises.
ENTER
I kept banging and banging on the door. I had given up shouting because if I hadn’t, I would be hoarse for a week. Ten minutes, at least, after I had left my room, the noises were still coming from the room. By now, a few other doors had been opened. I could feel the people around me. I don’t know if they wanted the noises to stop as well or if they wanted the noises I was making to stop. Nothing was working, and my hand was starting to get numb. I rested for a minute to let my hand get some blood flow. During that time, someone behind me started talking. “Sir,” the person said (I wasn’t paying attention to the voice, so I don’t know if it was a man or a woman), “I think-” “I don’t care what you think!” I shouted at the person. The commentator sent me over the edge. I stepped back a bit, nerved myself, and kicked the door as hard as I could. The door burst open, and I walked inside.
ENTER
There was nothing. It was a bare room, completely devoid of furniture, curtains, pictures. Everything. I ran all over the apartment, looking in all the rooms for something, ANYTHING, that could be causing the gurgling noises. All the rooms were the same, with nothing at all inside. I checked the sinks in the bathroom and kitchen, figuring some water problem could be making the noises, but I found nothing. Both sinks ran fine, and the noises didn’t seem to be louder around either sink. In fact, the noises weren’t louder anywhere in the apartment. The noises were the same volume all over the apartment. I ran out of the room, planning to get on the elevator and check the apartments above and below the one I had just checked, figuring something could be in the ceiling or floor.
ENTER
I was stopped by the owner of the building as I ran out of the apartment. Two guys grabbed ahold of me and held me, keeping me from moving. “What’s going, [name removed]?” the owner asked, a very worried look on his face. I explained the noises to him, as well as how the entire apartment was empty. The owner shook his head and turned around. I asked him what was wrong. One of the people who had gathered in the hallway while I was beating against the door said, “What noises are you talking about? There are no noises.”
ENTER
My mother and father came to get me a couple of hours later. I was tied to a chair when they came. The other tenants had tied me up so I wouldn’t hurt myself anymore trying to find the “noises.” It turned out that my hand was badly broken from banging against the door so much. I apparently hadn’t registered the pain. I got started on electro-shock again shortly afterwards. It seemed to be working. I didn’t think of the noises for the longest time. Recently, however, I am hearing them again. I know that they aren’t real. I remember the incident at the apartment (which I have just told you), and I remember a similar incident which had occurred years before that one. My brain is simply wired wrong. There are no noises. I can’t get them out of my head though. They are driving me mad. I have to figure out where they’re coming from. I have to stop them. The goddamned things are driving me nuts. Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.