Welcome to Scary Story Podcast. Today's episode features stories about the dark entities that lurk in your home and about the strange case of a beloved bank customer.

My name is Edwin. Here is a Scary Story. Beware of the lurkers.

It's tough to describe what they sound like since they barely make a noise when they move. But I know when they're there. Many have tried to help, none have succeeded. Except for one.

Miss Ellie seemed far too young to be into this sort of thing. Yet something about her struck me as trustworthy.

She showed up with a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a bag about half her size over her shoulder, with corners of boxes about to poke out of the knitted brown cloth. Some sharp enough to stab her.

She could set it down, I reminded her. How she could hold such a sack on her back was beyond me. Yet she refused and instead tried to carve a path between myself and the doorframe.

I stepped aside as a light taps of her shoes met my wooden floors. She grunted softly as she walked inside and all I could see was the enormous bad disappearing into the near dark interior of my home.

Tap, tap, tap. Her shoes went all the way to the corner of the living room or so I assumed.

The lights were almost never on. They don't like that and they will let you know what those sounds I told you about. I think Miss Ellie knew that already since she did not seem the least bit concerned about the light situation.

She grunted again, accompanied this time by the sounds of metal objects, something that I imagine were jars of coins and kitchen utensils clanking together until they stopped when the sack hit the floor.

She came walking up to me, stretching out the white box of cigarettes toward me, quietly telling me that she doesn't smoke. I don't smoke either. What were these for? I should have asked.

Dark hair and brown eyes stared right at me, waiting for me to say something or maybe to ask my question. I hesitated but grabbed the box and then looked down on her shoes instead.

She was shining in black. She slowly started to fit the aesthetic now, though the yellow butterfly button on her long brown dress threw me off.

They're here all right, she said to me. We had spoken only on the phone up until that point and yet she didn't seem interested in finding out much more about me.

Rather she was entranced by the home just like I was when I first moved here. All wood construction was hard to find around here and the place offered plenty of light during the day.

But this time she arrived right at the time when the sun was about to set and even her own eyes looked golden.

I might have seen one around here, the bother you said, right? She asked.

They used to scare me, I replied. Not so much anymore, just that sound she finished a statement for me, I know.

She knew I could hear them, I told her over the phone. That may have been what convinced her to drive all the way down to my side of town.

The full hour or more, probably.

There were four other helpers who had visited my home before. Three women and one man. All arriving at different times with one of the women knocking on my door asking if I could use some of her services out of nowhere.

I thought she was offering to do housework or something like cleaning perhaps.

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