The House Started Mimicking Us
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What is the story behind the 19th‑century Connecticut homestead?
G'day mates, it's Beebuster here, and before the episode begins, I would just like to let you know that Be Scared, which is produced along with Studio 71, features scary stories from around the globe on a weekly basis that aim to fuel your nightmares with a smile. And if you enjoy the podcast, it would be great if you could hit that subscribe button and drop a review. Thanks for listening guys, and without further ado, let's begin.
So I'm sharing this because, well, I'm genuinely starting to question my own sanity. My spouse and I purchased an old timber homestead in the rural backcountry of Connecticut roughly four years ago. It's one of those historical properties that has undergone just enough modernization to mask its age, but it still retains its original late 1800s framework. For the first few seasons, the place was pretty good too. There wasn't even a structural creak. and everything shifted about eight months ago when we brought our newborn son home from the hospital. Now, I'm well aware that chronic sleep deprivation can cause your mind to play really severe tricks on you, but the occurrences inside this house have become far too consistent to be just dismissed as a lack of rest.
It all began with vocal mimicry, So my partner spends a lot of time working out of the detached equipment shed and he recently came into the kitchen looking incredibly agitated asking why I had been shouting for assistance from the second floor landing. I had been downstairs with our child though the entire afternoon in absolute silence. Then a couple of weeks later I was in the midst of taking a shower when I distinctly heard him step into the bathroom space stating hey I'm running down to the gas station and click the door shut. When I stepped out into the hall his truck was gone but upon asking him later he had actually departed 20 minutes prior to that moment. The physical layout of the building seems to amplify this thing too.
There's a secondary narrow stairwell near the kitchen that was originally built for domestic stuff, and that specific quadrant of the house always carries a sort of heavy and suffocating pressure to it. Last month I was sitting on the rocking chair in the nursery, which is situated directly at the apex of those rear stairs, trying to get our son to drop off to sleep. It was during that dead frozen window right around 2 in the morning and our son was beginning to sort of drift off when his entire body went completely rigid. He didn't look toward the open hallway either, his eyes locked directly onto the floorboards in the absolute centre of the room. I followed his gaze and watched the woven rug that we have in the middle of the nursery visibly compress.
It wasn't an abrupt indentation or anything, exactly as if a heavy individual was slowly shifting their physical weight from one foot to the other while standing directly in front of the crib. I could hear the old pine joist groaning beneath the weight of this invisible mass too. I desperately tried to rationalize it as the framing settling due to the night drop in the temperature, but then our smart nursery monitor captured something that genuinely made me physically ill. It's a high-end unit equipped with automated motion tracking lenses, and while I was downstairs preparing a bottle, my phone buzzed with an alert, unusual activity detected in nursery. I opened the live feed. The motorized camera was slowly panning in a smooth arc.
It wasn't centering on our son, though. It was systematically tracking something invisible that was walking in a flawless but deliberate circle around the exact perimeter of the crib. The terrifying part wasn't just the mechanical movement of the lens though, it was the audio feed. The speaker picked up a wet and rapid clicking sound. It sounded just completely alien. The moment that the camera tracking path passed over the top of the crib, our son's fine hair visibly ruffled and shifted too, moved by… well, I don't know… The absolute peak of the activity though occurred three nights ago when I was standing at the kitchen counter and I heard my spouse's voice emanate from the other side of the basement door.
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Chapters
5 chapters
1
What is the story behind the 19th‑century Connecticut homestead?
0:00–9:45
2
How did bringing a newborn home change the house’s atmosphere?
9:45–12:24
3
What strange vocal mimicry did the family experience?
12:24–31:31
4
What did the smart nursery monitor capture that terrified the parents?
31:31–40:11
5
Why did a disembodied voice ask to turn a basement handle?
40:11–42:25