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For the past two weeks I have been hearing footsteps upstairs every single night at exactly 3:33 AM. The problem is I live alone and my apartment only has one floor. The first time it happened I thought I was dreaming. I woke up to the sound of slow heavy footsteps walking back and forth right above my bed. But when I opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling the noise stopped immediately. I checked my phone and it was 3:33 AM. I figured it was just the neighbors upstairs even though I had never heard them before. The next night it happened again. Same time. 3:33 AM. Same slow heavy footsteps pacing back and forth. This time I got up and went outside to check if anyone was awake upstairs. All the lights were off. No sound. Nothing. I went back to bed confused. By the fourth night I was starting to freak out. I decided to record it on my phone. At 3:33 AM the footsteps started right on cue. I held my phone up toward the ceiling and captured the sound. When I played it back the next morning I heard something that made my blood run cold. It wasn't just footsteps. There was a faint voice whispering my name over and over again. I checked with my landlord and found out that the previous tenant had died in this apartment. They found him at the bottom of the stairs after he fell in the middle of the night. The time of death was 3:33 AM.

Everyone knows the Bloody Mary legend. You stand in front of a mirror at midnight say her name three times and she's supposed to appear. I always thought it was just a stupid game that kids play at sleepovers. But last week I was bored and home alone so I decided to try it just for fun. I went into my bathroom turned off all the lights and lit a single candle. I stared into the mirror and said Bloody Mary three times. At first nothing happened. I laughed at myself for even trying. But then the candle started flickering even though there was no wind. The air in the bathroom suddenly felt ice cold. I looked back at the mirror and my reflection looked different. It was me but the expression on my face was wrong. My reflection was smiling but I wasn't smiling. Then it moved. My reflection raised its hand and pressed it against the glass from the inside like it was trying to push through. I screamed and ran out of the bathroom slamming the door behind me. I didn't go back in there for the rest of the night. The next morning I went to check and the mirror was covered in handprints. But they were on the inside of the glass. I moved out of that apartment two days later and I will never say her name in front of a mirror again.

Last year my husband and I bought a house for half the market price. The realtor kept saying it was a great deal and that nothing was wrong with it. We were so excited because we had been looking for a house for months and couldn't afford anything in our area. The first night we moved in everything seemed fine. We unpacked boxes set up furniture and went to bed exhausted. But around 2 AM I woke up to a scratching sound coming from inside the walls. It sounded like something was clawing at the drywall trying to get out. I woke up my husband and he said it was probably just mice. We went back to sleep. The second night the scratching was louder. And this time we heard footsteps in the hallway even though we were both in bed. My husband got up to check but nobody was there. All the doors were still locked. We convinced ourselves it was just the house settling. On the third night things escalated. We woke up to every single door in the house slamming open and shut over and over again. The scratching in the walls was so loud it sounded like something was about to break through. Then we heard a voice. A woman's voice whispering get out. We didn't wait. We grabbed our dog and left the house immediately. The next day we called a priest who agreed to come bless the house. He walked in took one look around and told us we needed to leave permanently. He said the house had a dark history and that we were in danger. We moved out that same week and never went back.