Come On In — Secret Tunnel Horror Beneath an Old House

0:00 Curtis thought the scariest thing in his house was the basement, the cold floor, the flickering bulb, the rotting little shed in the corner. But when he learns that shed hides a tunnel beneath the house, fear becomes curiosity, and curiosity becomes a mistake. What's that You want to be scared? Come with me. He will experience tales over our roam, ghosts, and death.

0:43 He does not recommended for the We get hard heart listeners in the dark. It's more fun at that way. This is weakly speaking. Hello, my spooky is It's Wednesday, and you know what that means. It's time for a little spooky in your weekly I'm your host and narrator, Enrique Kuto, and I'm recording this via battery power because my entire area of southeast Ohio is without power currently. It has been a very harrowing day. I recorded our story for tonight, and then as I was preparing it to post, we lost power and proceeded to not get it back for ten hours now, so bear with me. Although the recording will sound extra quiet with no distractions like HVAC or well anything that brings comfort. But let's get past that. We could all use a break. So I just want to remind you, if you love what we do here at Weekly Spooky, you can head to Weeklyspooky dot com slash join and for as little as one dollar a month,

2:15 support us directly and get two bonus episodes every month, as well as over five years of exclusive creepypasta readings and audiobooks at Weeklyspooky dot com slash Join. I really would appreciate it. Your support is what helps the program keep going and going and growing Weeklyspooky dot Com slash Join. But now, as for tonight, every old house has a few secrets, a creaking chair, a locked room, a smell in the walls that never quite goes away. But Curtis Tucker's new house has something even worse. A basement he can barely stay and to enter, and a hidden passageway buried beneath it. His father says, it's history, a tunnel from another time, a secret route once used by people running for their lives. But history doesn't always stay buried, and one rainy night, Curtis decides the only way to stop being afraid is to climb inside and see where that tunnel goes. So get cozy, my spookies, this is a creepy one. I know you'll like it. Come on in by Morgan more. Hey, Kurt Dog, you mind coming

3:50 down and helping your old dad out? A fatherly voice called up from the basement. Curtis Tucker stared down the stairs toward the place his father's voice had come from. Normally, he would jump at the chance to help his father with any project. Ever since moving into their new house, he had helped whenever his father asked. It was an old house and needed some TLC, so the opportunities were plentiful. More than that, they were chances to spend time together between his dad's long stretches on the road as a trucker. But this wasn't an opportunity he wanted to take. Basements were not something that Curtis liked. He could tolerate them when they were furnished, like a friend's house where there was a couch, a poll table, and a television with a game console hooked up. But your plain old Joe average basement, uh huh. Theirs wasn't finished and was nothing more than cold concrete floors, brick wall, creaky wooden stairs, cobwebs, and grime with the occasional visit from garden snakes and other critters. It wasn't fun and it scared Curtis immensely. Curtie, his father called. Curtis gulped and took a breath. He

5:21 really didn't want to go down there, but he couldn't leave his father hanging. He took another deep breath and started his descent into the basement. The damp odor immediately filled his nose as the wood creaked beneath his feet, teasing the idea of breaking and sending him falling. The house was old, so it wasn't impossible if one wasn't careful, Curtis remembered hearing the realtors say the house had been built in the eighteen hundreds, and while old homes could be sturdier than modern ones, they could also be weaker depending on how they had been kept. Their house needed some tender loving care. Stepping on to the basement floor in just his socks, Curtis felt the cool concrete penetrate the fabric. The basement was divided into two sections, the main room and a side room that held the furnace and water heater. Both areas were littered with old metal shelving rusted in spots, along with boxes of the family's belongings and remnants from previous tenants. Not seeing his dad in the main section, Curtis gulped and walked to the other room. To him, this was the worst part of the basement. It had one light bulb that always flickered,

6:56 even when a new one was screwed in. It always smelled of mildew, and his parents had put considerable time into cleaning mold from just that space. The room also featured an old, rotted wooden door, which Curtis had imagined being kicked in by anyone who wanted to do the family harm. More realistically, he figured it was how the critters kept getting in. But then there was the small shed in the back corner of the room that was what held his attention the most, as well as his imagination whenever he thought of the basement. It was wooden, aged and worn, though not quite as derelict as the basement door. There you are, kiddo, his father said. Curtis smiled at him. Sorry I took so long, his father returned the smile. No worries, just happy it leave me hangin' What do you need me to do. There's a spot on the furnace I need to get to so I can fix it, And I can't really hold the flashlight and reach it and fix it all at the same time. I'd holding it for me, sure thing, Dad.

8:16 Curtis took the flashlight from his father and held it where he could see with steady light. His father got to work on the furnace as Curtis held the light. His eyes eventually drifted over to the shed. From what he could recall, he hadn't heard anything about its purpose when the family toward the house, nor had he worked up the courage to look inside and find out. That would mean venturing into the basement, and with how much he already disliked the thought of being down there, he was more than happy not to scratch his curiosity. His father stood up from his crouched position and wiped his hands against his pants. That should do it for now.

9:08 Curtis stood up with him and turned off the flashlight. Thanks for all your help, Curtie, his father told him with a smile. Curtis smiled in return and gave his father a nod. His eyes shifted back to the shed. Wondering what that's all about, aren't you his dad asked, yeah. Curtis answered, I figured I've seen how you look at it whenever you come down with your mom or me to help out. Do you know what it's for? Mm hmm. The realtor told your mom and me when we first looked at the house, I don't think you were with us for that tour. If you were, you probably stayed upstairs.

9:55 So what's it for? The realtor said, it was actually part of the under ground railroad. Really, Curtis asked, surprised. Yep. The house used to be a school for girls back during the Civil War, and it was one of the stops along the route. Escaping slaves would enter a passageway nearby tunnels really from lord knows how long ago. Anyway, they would crawl through them, and at certain points there were places where they could get out of the tunnels and into buildings in the area. They could find shelter or just stay in the tunnels and wait out whoever was trying to catch them. As it turned out, the school and now our house was one of those buildings.

10:44 So there's a tunnel in the shed. Curtis asked, making sure he understood. You got it, kiddo. Well, More specifically, the tunnel leads to a little ledge, since the house sits on a hill. Inside there, there's a ladder that leads up to the ledge. People would climb down it to come in, or climb up it to get back into the tunnels. But why put a shed there to hide it? I imagine a lot of houses back then had similar little spaces that worked as pantries or storage. Most likely it was already there before the war and the owner discovered what was behind it then cleared everything else out. Or maybe the shed was built and the ladder put in specifically to help escaping slaves. Either way, it's a pretty interesting little historic touch to our home, don't you think. Curtis nodded. His father smiled and ruffled his hair before heading back upstairs alone. Curtis felt his skin begin to crawl. His eyes stayed fixed on the shed as he thought about what his dad had said.

12:00 Maybe that was how so many animals found their way into the basement. He wondered what people who didn't know about the passageway would have thought if a stranger suddenly appeared in their home. The information his father gave him answered the question of what the shed was for, but it also made his anxiety worse. It was strange knowing that anyone or anything could let itself into their house at any time of day from somewhere else entirely. His dad had said there were other entrances in the area, either inside other buildings or hidden outside. The shed had already creeped Curtis out. Now. He wasn't sure whether knowing the truth made him feel safer or even more afraid.

12:57 Are you coming, Curtie, His father called from the top of the basement stairs. Yeah, Dad, he answered. Curtis walked out of the room and back toward the stairs. Step by step, he climbed up, thinking about the unease the basement gave him, and now the shed as well. Before curiosity had been easier to ignore. Now that he knew what it was, the mystery felt worse. At the top of the stairs. He stepped into the kitchen and turned to look back down into the basement. A chill ran through him. He shook his head, trying to shake away the anxious thoughts. Curtis flicked the light switch, plunging the entire basement into darkness, then closed the door. He only prayed he could close the door on the shed inside of his head as well. Rain poured down on the Tucker house, creating what some would call peaceful white noise for anyone trying to fall asleep. That wasn't the case for Curtis. Aside from the small leak in his ceiling, which made a plipping sound each time a drop hit

14:28 the wooden floor, his sleep was restless. Thoughts of the basement ran wild through his dreams, again as they often had since the family moved in. The dreams usually involved Curtis being trapped in the basement, unable to get out through either the door leading up to the kitchen or the door leading outside. Sometimes he died of fright stranded in the damp. Sometimes an animal attacked him. The worst dreams combined both fears, only upping the terror by replacing the animal with a human intruder. Tonight was no different, except the shed took center stage. Curtis's mind conjured images of being trapped not in the shed, but inside the tunnel itself, with the earth collapsing around him and blocking the way back as well as the way forward. He dreamed of being chased through the tunnels by animals, each one more vicious than the last. He saw himself opening the shed and finding one, if not several, of those animals waiting inside, ready to leap out at him, but

15:59 the human threat and the possibilities of the tunnel scared him the most. Instead of animals leaping out, there were human threats of every kind. Thoughts of being chased through the tunnels by a person crept in every so often. In those dreams, Curtis was pursued by slave catchers, either because he had helped people escape or because he had somehow become one of the hunted himself. In every nightmare where the shed led to a human threat, Curtis didn't simply die of fright or wait helplessly in the dark.

16:41 He died horribly each time in a different macabre way. A raindrop fell from the ceiling and landed smack dab between his eyebrows, finally waking him fully all the same, but at least he wasn't drenched in cold sweat from the nightmares. Curtis wiped the wetness from his brow and stared out the window into the dark rain. He was tempted to look at the clock, but fought the urge. Why bother. He knew it was night, knew it was late, and knew he most likely wasn't falling asleep again anytime soon.

17:31 The problem was he didn't know what to do. The house was only one story save for the basement, and with its layout, trying to watch television or play a video game would most likely wake his mom and dad. He could read, but he didn't know if that was what he wanted, or even what he would want to read. That was the problem. Awake with plenty of possibilities but no clear choice that wouldn't disturb the rest of the house, Curtis sighed and stared up at the ceiling. He hated lying in bed without sleeping. The rain hadn't helped, but he had to admit it was probably better than the nightmares.

18:24 The basement still ate away at him, though, even while he was awake, all the anxiety, all the terrible things that could happen, all the possibilities of what the shed could lead to or what it could let in. Curtis remembered hearing in a movie that sometimes when you were afraid of something, all you could do was try to face it head on in movieland of course that was easy. In real life, it was easier said than done, depending on the fear. Curtis thought about the basement. He knew being afraid of it wasn't unusual for a kid, and his reasons were the sort of reasons anyone might give.

19:17 Then an idea popped into his head. He shrugged and got out of bed. I mean, what else am I doing? He asked himself. It was simple enough, take the movie's advice and face his fear head on. Curtis left his room and walked down the hall toward the back dining room, took a left and entered the kitchen, not wanting to look at the basement door right away. He got himself a cup of water and drank it, then another, and then another. Thirst sat satisfied, he put the cup in the kitchen sink and finally turned toward the basement. He stared at the door for a long time, trying to pump himself up. How exactly he was supposed to conquer his fear, He didn't know. He could stay down there for the rest of the night. With the lights on.

20:22 There were boxes of his and his parents' old belongings down there, so he wouldn't be short on things to play with or read. If the overhead light wasn't enough, he could bring a flashlight. He liked that idea, so he got one from a drawer near the sink. Armed with the flashlight, Curtis flicked the switch to turn on the basement lights, then opened the door with a push of his thumb. The flashlight came to life. Taking a deep breath, Curtis took the first step down into the basement.

21:09 It's only a basement, just a basement, he said aloud to calm his nerves. Taking it one step at a time, Curtis made his way to the bottom of the stairs and stood in the main room. He moved the flashlight beam across the space, letting it reveal the area in finer detail than the faint light from the overhead bulb. All he saw were things he had always known were there. Brick walls, dust and cobwebs, boxes of stuff leftover shelving, and random artifacts from previous owners. Normal things, things anyone might find in any basement. The only thing that made Curtis afraid was the old, bare bones, dank feel of the place. Standing there, taking it all in, he slowly eased into being down there. He turned off the flashlight and let his eyes adjust. The room still made his skin crawl, but the sensation began to lessen. That only left the other room with the basement door and the shed.

22:34 With a gulp, Curtis turned the flashlight back on and entered the adjoining room. Just like in the previous rooms, He swept the beam along the space and noted everything he knew had been there since the family moved in, as well as what had been left behind by others before them. Then his arm and the light came upon the shed. Curtis stood and stared at it with dreadful curiosity. The rest of the basement felt like something he could slowly learn to handle. The shed remained uncertain. It offered too many possibilities to his mind, most of them dreadful, if not outright macabre. There were two ways to conquer the fear of it. He could keep doing what he was doing, look at it from a distance, and hope that over time it lost its power, or he could give in to curiosity. After thinking it over, Curtis made his decision. He stepped up to the shed, and looked at it closer than he ever had before. He had always known it was old, but now up close he could see just how aged the wood was, with small

24:08 cracks running through it. Instead of a knob or handle, there was only a circular opening that acted as a grip. Reaching out with his free hand, Curtis slid his fingers into the opening and pulled the door outward. Inside, he found exactly what his father had said. Was there a ladder leading up to a ledge and an opening. Curtis looked at the ledge and what little of the opening he could see. The ladder was made of wood and looked to be in about the same condition as the door, except for the dust and dirt coating it. Curtis ran a hand along it and felt how cool the wood was.

24:59 When when he touched the brick wall, it was even colder, like stepping onto a porch in bare feet on a winter morning. Feeling the inside of the shed and looking at the entryway only a ladder climb away, Curtis had a thought. It was a stupid idea. Nobody in their right mind would do it, not a kid, not an adult. It could be dangerous and lead to who knew how much trouble, but Curtis thought it might be the one thing that could quiet every fear and curiosity he had, So he grasped both sides of the ladder and climbed up the ledge, Sitting hunched on his knees to avoid hitting his head. Curtis aimed the flashlight into the opening and saw the packed earth that shaped the tunnel. Despite knowing that escaping slaves had once used it to get around, Curtis didn't find it all that big. It smelled of old earth and rain. He wondered how much of it had always been there, shaped by the area itself, and how much had been dug by human hands before or during the war. Either way, Curtis was impressed that such a thing existed. Mine shafts were one thing, as were caves,

26:32 but this felt like either a strange natural oddity or a man made marvel. The bad idea stayed in his head, screaming at him to go through with it, careful not to hit his head or fall off the ledge. Curtis hunched over more and began to crawl into the tunnel on all fours, keeping the flashlight as steady as he could. He moved carefully, occasionally stopping to inspect the walls. As he followed the path, he tried to note any differences that might help him keep track of where he was and where he had been, though there were frustratingly few.

27:21 When he reached a fork, he thought about which way would be best. He tried to imagine where he was outside and guess what direction each path might lead. Curtis settled on the right, thinking that since his neighborhood was mostly old houses and even a few old churches, he might loop back either to his own house, one of the churches, or another nearby home. He just hoped he wouldn't crawl over a ledge fall and hurt himself. That was the last thing he knew. Continuing on, Curtis felt a little peace, not because crawling through the tunnel was pleasant, but because he now knew just how tight it was, the likelihood of some deranged maniac using it to burst into his home and hurt him and his parents. Seen next to none. Animals, maybe, but Curtis had yet to find any real signs of them. More and more it seemed like he was the first person to use the tunnel system in a very long time, Curtis made his way deeper into the system and came across more forks and branching paths. He kept to the rightmost path each time, hoping it would make the return trip simpler than if

28:54 he had changed direction randomly. As he crawled, he began to wonder if he would find an exit anytime soon. If he did, he hoped it would take him into a building and not outside. With it being night and with the rain falling, he wasn't sure he could find his way home if he emerged outdoors. At least, if he came out into a building, he might find someone who could help him. The idea of simply turning around and going back the way he came occurred to him, but Curtis figured one crawl through the tunnel was enough. Besides, he was beginning to feel tired. Soon the flashlight showed him he was close to getting his wish. In the distance, he saw a one way turn. Once he took it, Curtis found a curtain acting as a makeshift door. Crawling through it, he entered a space no bigger than a closet, and there was a door in front of him, which he noticed only when he crawled forward and bumped his head against it, rubbing his scalp with his free hand.

30:19 Curtis saw by the flashlight that it was a sliding metal door, like something in a garage. Standing carefully so he didn't hit his head again, he placed his free hand on the metal and slowly slid it open. Stepping out, he found himself in a basement not much different from his own, except this one had concrete walls. The flashlight revealed a bare bones room with only one other door on the opposite side. Curtis made his way to it and tried the knob. It wasn't locked, but it was stuck.

31:05 Curtis slammed his shoulder into it while turning the knob, but got no farther than he had by simply turning it. He walked back to where he had come from and stared at the door from across the room. Taking a deep breath, he rushed it and slammed his shoulder into it with his whole weight. Behind the impact, the door flew open. Curtis stumbled forward and fell onto a dirt covered floor. Sitting up, he noticed the room was dimly lit. The odor of aged earth hung heavy in the air, just as it had in the tunnels, but there was something else with it. Curtis couldn't identify the smell. The closest he could come was a mixture of pennies and stale trash. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the faint light, but he still swept the flashlight around the room to better see his surroundings. He very quickly wished he hadn't.

32:17 Across the floor and walls were red stains darkened by age. Against one wall stood a plastic folding table, the kind Curtis had always seen at picnics, but this one was covered in more red spots and cluttered with tools. Yet the most horrifying discovery was the small body lying face first in the dirt. The person was barely clothed, wearing only a tank top and underwear. From what Curtis could tell, it was a girl, and she was dead. Curtis didn't know much about what happened to a body after death, but he instinctively knew she had been there for a while, and that she was responsible for the smell. The number of stains and the strength of the odor told him there had been others. He wanted to vomit and The stench was starting to work on him, but he managed to hold it back until he saw the wall lined with drum barrels. He didn't want to look inside them.

33:38 He didn't have to. He knew exactly what he would find. Curtis stood he had seen enough. He desperately wanted to get out of wherever he was. He was about to turn around and run like hell back through the tunnels when he felt a hand clamp on too shoulder. Curtis turned his head to see who the hand belonged to, but instead of a face, he met a fist. It crashed into him and he fell onto his back. His vision blurred from the blow. The impact of hitting the ground sent the flashlight rolling out of his hand and across the floor. Well, well, well what do we have here?

34:32 Looks like somebody let himself in. Can't be too surprised if I found these passages only make sense somebody else would too. Problem is, now you know how to get here through them. You might not know where the house itself is, but well, can't be too careful with these things. Was going to finish the girly and then try another house connected to the passages, But it looks like you're next. Curtis, despite being young, had seen enough shows and movies to understand what was going to happen. He had been so afraid of someone or something using the tunnels to get into his basement and hurt him and his family that he had never stopped to wonder what might happen if the roles were reversed. Now he knew the tunnel had never been an escape, it had only been an invitation. Well, my spookies, I think we can all agree that sometimes facing your fears is healthy and important, and sometimes it gets you punched in the face by the worst possible person on earth in a basement you should have never crawled into. Poor Curtis wanted to conquer his fear of the dark, the damp, and the creepy, and instead discovered

36:06 that some old houses don't just have history, they have access. So tonight, maybe check your own basement door. Maybe make sure there aren't any mysterious sheds down there. And if your father says, oh, yeah, that's just an old tunnel system beneath the house, maybe do the sensible thing and move. I want to remind you this Friday, on cutting deep into horror, we're talking all about the cult favorite one Cut of the Dead. It's got zombies, filmmaking, chaos, horror, comedy, behind the scenes madness, and one of the most rewarding wait what am I watching exactly experiences in modern genre cinema.

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37:31 I need to post the show and finally go to sleep. I am doing the show by candlelight basically, so there's your there you have it. So thank you again for listening. For myself, for my executive producers Bobotopia dot Com and Rob Fields, for my producer Dan Wilder, and my creepy composer Ray Mattis. I'll talk at you next week. Thank you for listenings. Make sure to find your way back next week weekly, but for now you are safe. Trust me,