The Government Pays Me to Watch a Door That Shouldn’t Exist

Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep

A man named Woodson is employed by a clandestine government agency to monitor a mysterious wooden door located deep underground. After years

Key takeaways

• The protagonist, Woodson, works in total isolation hundreds of feet below the earth's surface.
• His primary duty is to monitor a 1970s-style hollow wood veneer door for any anomalies.

Main topics

• Underground surveillance
• Psychological isolation

Notable quotes

I'm here to watch, not fix.

Conclusion

A chilling narrative that explores the loss of autonomy and the terrif

Transcript preview

Speaker 1 (0:00) In today's story, a man is paid by the government to sit hundreds of feet underground and watch a single wooden door. He has no idea what's behind it. His only job is to monitor and report anything unusual. Sometimes he hears scratching, sometimes whispering, sometimes crying. Then one night, his walkie-talkie crackles to life with a voice he doesn't recognize. The stranger asks him a question that makes his blood run cold. But before we get into it, if you enjoy scary stories like this, be sure to like and subscribe so you never miss any of our weekly uploads. Speaker 1 (0:39) My coffee has gone cold. I could make a fresh cup since there's the table behind me with the coffee maker and all the fixings, but I don't mind. I've gotten used to it. Used to cold coffee, cold lunches, cold dinners. You would think that with all the time I have, I'd be able to finish a meal or a cup of coffee without it getting cold. But you'd be wrong. Too much distraction. Or one single distraction, depending on how you look at it. At least I have a comfortable chair to sit in while I sip my cold coffee and watch. It. It being, well, a door. Just a door. It's a simple door, nothing fancy. One you'd find in any American ranch house from the 1970s or 80s. I remember doors like this in my grandparents' house. This one is a cheap, hollow door with wood veneer. Lightish brown. The knob is fake brass. and jiggles when you touch it. Part of me has always wanted to take a screwdriver to the screws and tighten it up, but that's not really allowed. I'm here to watch, not fix. And there's the fact that the screw heads are on the other side of the knob, the other side of the door. Those screw heads get to see whatever might be over there. In the three years I have had this job, the job of watching a door several hundred feet below the surface of the earth, inside a cave that no one knows about. Well, the most excitement I have had was actually finishing a full meal before I could be creeped out that someone, something was listening. Their ear pressed against the other side of the door. It's that stress, that anxiety of being observed, that has my meals and coffee going cold. I hear a noise in the cave, and my eyes lock onto the door. I sit, I wait, I watch. Then 30 minutes or more go by where absolutely nothing happens, and I've got zero to show for it except cold food and a cold drink. The pay and benefits are great, though. Government work, I think. Most likely contracted. But my supervisor, Lawrence, insists that we work for a clandestine agency within another clandestine agency within, well, you get the picture. Honestly, I could be working for Disney or Apple, for all I know. But, hey, I get 30 days of PTO each year, so I don't really ask many questions. I just watch the door and log any anomalies, like scratching or crying. or whispering or tapping, never knocking. Three years, and I have never heard a single knock, which is fine by me. I'm not sure what I'd do if someone, or again, something, knocked on that other side. Would I get up and run? Or would I grab the small walkie-talkie next to the coffee maker and call in my report, then run? Or would I die of fear, and they'd find me white as a ghost with my eyes wide open and my face in the rictus of a scream? to find me, because there are no cameras down here, no listening devices either. Lawrence says that there is some sort of signal, and a powerful one, that messes with electronic surveillance. I think it messes with the microwave and coffee maker sometimes too, but that could just be because the machines are cheap and old, not because some super signal is scrambling their operations. So, for all practical purposes, I am very much alone down here. But the thing is, I hear noises coming from the other side all the time. So how alone am I, really? I don't hear them all day, every day. But maybe a time or two each day. Sometimes only a couple of times a week. It's almost as if someone is trying to stay quiet over there, but can't help but make a noise now and again. Sort of like me. Speaker 1 (4:36) I'm on strict orders to be as quiet as humanly possible. Of course, being human, noises will happen. The scrape of my chair, the hiss and burble of the coffee maker, the microwave running, even though the bell has been removed. That motor still whirs, though. My footsteps echoing in the cave, the walkie-talkie crackling to life, sounding so loud, even though it's on the lowest volume setting. And my snores, since I have been known to nod off now and again. Who wouldn't when their job is to sit and stare at a door all day and night? I do get breaks. I do get to sleep for a couple of hours on a rotating schedule. But when I sleep, I have to set up a detection system that may or may not work because of that powerful signal coming from the other side. So, naps and snoring end up happening because I'm so paranoid about truly falling asleep during my breaks. Overall, I'm as quiet as a mouse on this side. quieter than the real mice that scurry about sometimes. They aren't here often, but they do show up. I think they get scared deeper into the cave system when storms rage by up above. Five months on, a month off, six months on. That's been my life, year after year. I honestly don't know who they have to take my position while I'm gone. Might just be my supervisor, Lawrence. Probably the best thing to do, since it lessens the number of folks in the know. The thought of which makes me laugh. In the know of what? A door? A cheap-ass door that I could probably punch through? No one will tell me what's on the other side. Lawrence says no one knows. That the door was detected decades ago. And that maybe a team went over there and was lost. But he isn't sure. Before his time, he always says. Definitely before my time. I sip my cold coffee and decide whether I'm going to read a book. or just stare at the wood veneer. Since I've been down here,