The water reached the basement window at 2:13 a.m. I knew because I was standing beside it. The storm had been getting worse for hours. Rain hit the roof so hard it sounded like gravel. Then the power went out. I grabbed a flashlight and went downstairs to check the sump pump. Water covered the basement floor. Not much. Maybe an inch. I stepped into it. Cold. I found the pump running. Then I heard another sound. Step. I froze. Another. Step. It came from the far end of the basement. I raised the flashlight. Nothing. Just boxes. The old furnace. The basement door. I told myself it was water dripping. Then the basement door slowly opened. I watched it move. An inch. Then two. There was no wind. I backed toward the stairs. My phone vibrated. A weather alert. FLASH FLOOD WARNING. Then another message appeared. From my neighbor. Are you downstairs? I typed back. Yes. Why? The reply came immediately. Don’t go near the water. I stared at it. Then my neighbor called. I answered. His voice was shaking. “Get upstairs.” “Why?” There was a pause. Then he whispered, “Because I saw someone in your basement.” I looked toward the far end. The flashlight flickered. For one second, I saw a pale hand resting on top of a cardboard box. Then the light came back. Nothing. I ran for the stairs. Behind me came three slow steps. Step. Step. Step. I reached the top and slammed the basement door. Something touched the other side. Not pounding. Just one long scrape. I locked it. Then every light in the house turned on. The basement light. The hallway light. The kitchen light. One after another. My phone vibrated again. It was a video from my neighbor. I opened it. The video showed my house from across the street. Floodwater covered the yard. My basement windows were completely underwater. Then I noticed something. The basement window was open. I looked down at the video. A figure was standing behind the glass. Tall. Too tall. Its head nearly touched the basement ceiling. Its arms hung past its knees. It wasn’t looking at the camera. It was looking directly at me. Through the phone. I dropped it. From downstairs came a soft sound. Water dripping. Then a whisper. My name. I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bedroom. The whisper came again. Closer. I called 911. The operator answered. I gave her my address. She went silent. Then she said, “Sir, we’ve already received a call from that address.” “What?” “Someone called five minutes ago.” “Who?” Another pause. Then she said, “You did.” I looked at my phone. My call timer showed zero seconds. Then something knocked on the bedroom door. Three times. I didn’t move. A pale hand slowly slid underneath the door. The fingers were impossibly long. Then my phone vibrated. A new message. From my own number. You shouldn’t have come upstairs. I looked at the bottom of the door. The hand was gone. Then I heard water running behind me. I turned. My bedroom window was closed. But water was pouring through it. Not rain. Floodwater. And something on the other side of the glass was pressing its face against the window. Smiling. The next morning, they found me sitting on the roof. Alive. The flood had gone down. The basement was completely dry. The police checked the security cameras. There was no figure. No broken window. No footprints. Nothing. Except one recording. At 2:13 a.m., the basement camera showed me walking downstairs. Then it showed me walking upstairs. Then, twelve seconds later, it showed me walking downstairs again. I watched the footage three times. On the fourth, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. The second version of me stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Turned toward the camera. And mouthed four words. I’m still in the water. #creepy #scarystories #scary #fyp #HorrorTok Thanks for reading. Follow for more horror stories. - @metaphysiko