The Terror Cellar - Real Paranormal Stories
Oct 8, 2026 · 36 min · 11 segments
A demolition worker in East London begins hearing a quiet male voice coming from beneath an old Victorian house. At first it sounds like an ordinary noise from the building, but then the voice becomes…
Andy CroftsHost
I worked in demolition for quite a few years, mostly around London and the home counters.
You got used to walking into places that other people had spent decades living in and reducing them to rubble in a matter of days.
Once you had the right equipment and the proper permissions, You didn't think too much about what a building had been.
They were the sort of narrow brick terraces you saw all over that part of London with small front gardens, bay windows and little yards at the back.
I'd been on the site for about a week, when I started noticing something strange.
Not anything dramatic, just a feeling that seemed to belong to the building rather than me.
The first time I noticed it, I was working inside one of the houses towards the end of the terrace.
We'd already stripped most of the interior, doors had been removed, fireplaces taken out, wiring pulled from the walls, the place looked almost skeletal.
We'd been told not to send anyone down there until the surveyor had checked it, so I left it alone.
One afternoon though, I was standing in the hallway waiting for one of the lads to bring a piece of equipment through, and I heard something from underneath me.
I worked in demolition for quite a few years, mostly around London and the home counters.
You got used to walking into places that other people had spent decades living in and reducing them to rubble in a matter of days.
Once you had the right equipment and the proper permissions, You didn't think too much about what a building had been.
They were the sort of narrow brick terraces you saw all over that part of London with small front gardens, bay windows and little yards at the back.
I'd been on the site for about a week, when I started noticing something strange.
Not anything dramatic, just a feeling that seemed to belong to the building rather than me.
The first time I noticed it, I was working inside one of the houses towards the end of the terrace.
We'd already stripped most of the interior, doors had been removed, fireplaces taken out, wiring pulled from the walls, the place looked almost skeletal.
We'd been told not to send anyone down there until the surveyor had checked it, so I left it alone.
One afternoon though, I was standing in the hallway waiting for one of the lads to bring a piece of equipment through, and I heard something from underneath me.
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