Misty on Nostr: I confirmed yesterday that the critters in my attic space are not human. ...
I confirmed yesterday that the critters in my attic space are not human.
Over the weekend, I had four small holes appear in my ceiling:
1. In the living room corner with a full view of my desk, laptop, etc.
2. In the dining room, with a full view of the kitchen, living room, and pantry.
3. In the bathroom with a full view of the bathroom.
4. In the corner of my bedroom, with a full view of the bedroom and bathroom.
Tuesday morning, I'd called the police as the 4th hole appeared. It was a strategic location. All the holes are only a few inches from each wall, literally in the four corners of the apartment.
But I didn't think about any of that until I heard a beam groan under weight above me.
It was a distinctive rafter groan, heavier than the critters I'd heard playing, scratching, and digging. It was like someone was stepping carefully and slowly on a beam.
I grabbed a sheet of paper and marked the locations of the holes in a rough mockup. I hadn't discovered the 4th hole yet. But based on that, I realized if something was "up" then the next hole would be placed in the NW corner of my apartment, right in the corner of the bedroom, and like the others, only a few inches from the wall.
I went into the bedroom and inspected the ceiling again. The day before, there were no holes. Tuesday morning, there was a hole right in that corner where I predicted.
An uncanny coincidence or something more?
I roped in the apartment management to see if maintenance could go up into the attic space. We have no maintenance that can right now. They told me to call the cops.
Cop arrives (you can imagine the conversation -- "Ma'am, it's probably just rats. Can't maintenance....")
Long story short, he pokes his head up through the crawl space. He does not do a 360 turn, but what he can see, he declares to be free of humans or human-like stuff.
The next day, I still wasn't satisfied.
Harbor Freight had what I needed: an endoscope camera, and a high-powered flashlight meant for inspecting tight places in HVAC, automotive stuff, and more. I was going to shove a camera up those holes and see for myself what's up there.
At the cash register, I proclaimed I was either going to scare a bunch of rats or catch a crook.
The young man asked the older supervisor, "What's a crook?"
The supervisor handed me my receipt, and I dawned a face full of revenge and glee. The supervisor laughed a little.
Arriving home and hell-bent on my misadventure, my plan was foiled by only having three AA batteries instead of four. I was low on AA batteries, a sin.
I put the camera away and accepted that I would have to do this the old-fashioned way, the dirty way, the way I've been trying to avoid.
I was going to have to crawl up there myself.
Much to Maverick's dismay, I opened a 50-gallon black contractor's trash back and made a hole in one end. Throwing it over my body and shoving my face through the hole, I poked holes for my arms. Maverick insisted on smelling my face to ensure I was safe.
After he was convinced, I put on black gloves and grabbed my cell phone and the high-powered flashlight. I opened the ladder, got ready to record, and climbed up.
Two deep breaths later, I carefully opened the hatch and listened.
Nothing.
I hit record and shoved up the phone and the flashlight at the same time.
Nothing.
Even Maverick was holding his breath.
I did a slow, 2-minute, 360-degree turn filming the entire time. When finished, I replaced the hatch.
Watching the footage confirmed there was no human or human-like stuff in any of the directions I saw. I saw no critters, no eyeballs staring back.
At that, I plugged the holes satisfied, that for now, the attic space was safe.
(AI almost got the picture correct. Hhahahaha.)
Over the weekend, I had four small holes appear in my ceiling:
1. In the living room corner with a full view of my desk, laptop, etc.
2. In the dining room, with a full view of the kitchen, living room, and pantry.
3. In the bathroom with a full view of the bathroom.
4. In the corner of my bedroom, with a full view of the bedroom and bathroom.
Tuesday morning, I'd called the police as the 4th hole appeared. It was a strategic location. All the holes are only a few inches from each wall, literally in the four corners of the apartment.
But I didn't think about any of that until I heard a beam groan under weight above me.
It was a distinctive rafter groan, heavier than the critters I'd heard playing, scratching, and digging. It was like someone was stepping carefully and slowly on a beam.
I grabbed a sheet of paper and marked the locations of the holes in a rough mockup. I hadn't discovered the 4th hole yet. But based on that, I realized if something was "up" then the next hole would be placed in the NW corner of my apartment, right in the corner of the bedroom, and like the others, only a few inches from the wall.
I went into the bedroom and inspected the ceiling again. The day before, there were no holes. Tuesday morning, there was a hole right in that corner where I predicted.
An uncanny coincidence or something more?
I roped in the apartment management to see if maintenance could go up into the attic space. We have no maintenance that can right now. They told me to call the cops.
Cop arrives (you can imagine the conversation -- "Ma'am, it's probably just rats. Can't maintenance....")
Long story short, he pokes his head up through the crawl space. He does not do a 360 turn, but what he can see, he declares to be free of humans or human-like stuff.
The next day, I still wasn't satisfied.
Harbor Freight had what I needed: an endoscope camera, and a high-powered flashlight meant for inspecting tight places in HVAC, automotive stuff, and more. I was going to shove a camera up those holes and see for myself what's up there.
At the cash register, I proclaimed I was either going to scare a bunch of rats or catch a crook.
The young man asked the older supervisor, "What's a crook?"
The supervisor handed me my receipt, and I dawned a face full of revenge and glee. The supervisor laughed a little.
Arriving home and hell-bent on my misadventure, my plan was foiled by only having three AA batteries instead of four. I was low on AA batteries, a sin.
I put the camera away and accepted that I would have to do this the old-fashioned way, the dirty way, the way I've been trying to avoid.
I was going to have to crawl up there myself.
Much to Maverick's dismay, I opened a 50-gallon black contractor's trash back and made a hole in one end. Throwing it over my body and shoving my face through the hole, I poked holes for my arms. Maverick insisted on smelling my face to ensure I was safe.
After he was convinced, I put on black gloves and grabbed my cell phone and the high-powered flashlight. I opened the ladder, got ready to record, and climbed up.
Two deep breaths later, I carefully opened the hatch and listened.
Nothing.
I hit record and shoved up the phone and the flashlight at the same time.
Nothing.
Even Maverick was holding his breath.
I did a slow, 2-minute, 360-degree turn filming the entire time. When finished, I replaced the hatch.
Watching the footage confirmed there was no human or human-like stuff in any of the directions I saw. I saw no critters, no eyeballs staring back.
At that, I plugged the holes satisfied, that for now, the attic space was safe.
(AI almost got the picture correct. Hhahahaha.)