A Haunted House Story

Some people think it "cool" to live in a haunted house. But it really depends on what's haunting it.
Waking up from a deep sleep with the feeling of a hand around your throat is never a good way to wake up. And not when a voice clearly states, "Don't make a sound or I'll kill you."  And it's especially not a good feeling when you bolt up to a sitting position and realize there is no one else in the room with you. At least not someone visible at the moment.

And not a dream. The memory of the face leaning down looking at you and hearing the words, the hand upon your throat. Definitely not dream material. And so the journey with this ghost began.

I never saw him again in the house. But I felt his presence. He was a young man, in his twenties, maybe early thirties. Light brown hair, average height. Thin. Not stocky. And I would have eventually chalked it up to indigestion and a bad dream if not for the story my neighbor, a good friend, told me after I finally revealed my nightmare.

I was not the first one to have seen this young man in that house. It seems all the women who rented the place had some sort of experience with him. One of the young ladies was walking through the Living room when she looked up to see a young man standing in her kitchen. She ran for the phone and had started to dial 911 when she realized he was no longer in the kitchen. She stepped towards the kitchen and peered in. No stranger. She looked in the entryway to the basement. No figure. And the basement door and the outside door were still locked. And there was no one in the bathroom. The kitchen door still locked and deadbolted from the inside.  When she told my friend the story, the description was the same as the man I saw.

Another woman drove home late at night, not feeling well. She finally got the car parked in the driveway and leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes. Feeling she was not alone, she opened her eyes to see a young man glaring in the driver's side window at her. Panicked, she screamed for her husband. She may have honked the horn. I don't remember for sure. Her husband came running out to see what was the problem. As she told him what had just happened, she realized he was looking around with a puzzled look on his face. That was when she realized that the only tracks in the snow were her tire tracks and the footprints from her husband as he came out of the house. And again, when my neighbor was told the story, the description was the same.

I don't know if the presence in the basement was the same young man or if it was a different "someone". I only know that I hated that basement. And the fact that if I wanted to do laundry, I had to walk the length of the basement to get to the machines. As the washer and dryer were in corners of the basement, I had to turn my back to the rest of the basement area to use them. I continually could feel someone or something walking up behind me and just standing there. Only a foot away from me.

The last straw was the day I realized one of my cats had somehow followed me down into the basement. When I turned from the washer, there he was, in the corner of the far end of the basement, standing on his back legs, looking like he was in front of someone either holding out a hand to pet him, or a treat for him to take, and listening to them talk. I was scared and mad. I ran for the cat and snatched him up and ran up the stairs. I put him down and headed back to the basement. I marched up to that corner and laid down the law. I informed whoever or whatever was there, that the area from the stairs over to the washer and dryer were mine. He [it] was not to trespass into it or follow me. He was never to interact with any of the cats. They were forbidden. And in return, he could have his end of the basement. I would never intrude or bother him there. It seemed to work. I kept the cats out of the basement and he didn't seem to bother me anymore.

Oh, yes. Did I forget to mention that this inside basement door had two locks on it? A regular lock, and a bolt.

Anyhow, not really sasquatch or bigfoot related. And not cryptid. But a paranormal tale in the spirit of  the Halloween season.

Happy Halloween everyone. Have a spooky time.

(Original post from October)

Nancy

This Post By TCC Team Member Nancy Marietta. Nancy has had a lifelong interest in the paranormal and cryptids. Nancy is also a published author and her book, The Price of war, has been met with great reviews.

[Please Note: Sadly Nancy passed away at the first of January, 2022. We will continue to honor her and her research by sharing her work. RIP Nancy. -Thomas]

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