For all my life, I've lived in this average-size house out in the countryside. It's one of those places where nothing bad seems to happen, and the people all seem pretty normal. So, you can understand I don't share my story often. It started when I was young, around five to nine years old, and continued until last year.
When I was young, we had a dog. Always barking and making noise about the littlest of things, he was one of those knee-high dogs, a West Highland Terrier, and he tended to get up in the night for various reasons. The first incident, I think, occurred on a mild summer night. I was living upstairs at the time and just down the hall from my parents' room.
As I was laying on my back in bed, I heard the sound of footsteps around me and assumed it was the dog. I was wide awake at the time and listened to it walking from one side of the bed to the other. One side of the bed to the other. It must have lasted for almost five or so minutes. I told him to leave. The steps proceeded to go around me another time, stopping on my left, and I finally turned to look over the bed, telling him to get out of my room. There was nothing there. I got up looking around the sides of my bed, nothing.
My room was a small rectangle, so small that the bed was pressed up against my wall and I still smacked my knee on the corner. There's only one exit on my right side so there was no way for him to get out, and there were boxes under my bed. I thought I had just gone to sleep and imagined it. Then, about three years (I'm guessing because I'm bad with time) things got a little freakier with a few incidents in between that might help shed light on this stuff.
I was in middle school and had this nightmare. I awoke (in the dream) and heard my parents screaming for my help. I jumped up and ran out into the hallway. There, standing before me, were two things -- they were black shadows of a tall man and a dog. The dog looked like something that I would draw if I was five, and the man had grossly elongated limbs. Still creeps me out to this day.
Anyways, my parents kept screaming in agony, and I approached the figures. The dog walked up to me and past me in the hall. It seemed disinterested in me but the man stood there. I tried to run around him, and he reached down around my waist. The pain felt like something stabbing and cutting under my skin, and I woke up in the middle of the night... Eventually falling asleep, again. That morning, I went down stairs to take a shower and when I removed my heavy plaid pajamas, I saw a thin scratch that ran from under my tricep, down through my armpit and across my stomach. It was nearly unbroken and that's what scared me most. I guess that's why I pretended it never happened.
Maybe a year later (eighth grade?), the footsteps came back. With our basement recently finished, I was living downstairs and one morning during the week, I got up and started to play video games on my computer. I heard the footsteps start to walk around like they did before. It was like they were exploring my house. First off, we have no pipes over my room, and we have sound-proof tiled ceiling above. So, those footsteps had to be loud. Secondly, the dogs and cat were all out of the house and so was my family.
The footsteps continued and at first, I thought maybe someone had broken in or one of my friends was playing a joke. So I waited, they would go all around my house and stop just at the stairwell and then walk again. They repeated this for about five minutes. A little freaked out, I grabbed my putter and went upstairs - if someone broke in, I would whack 'em. If one of my friends broke in, I'd whack them, too. I went from room to room and, as you can guess, found nothing. When I went down stairs, I listened. Silence.
As soon as I sat down, the footsteps began again. Not faster or slower, just an even, steady pace. I sat there listening and it would walk to the stairwell and stay just out of sight. I decided I would ambush it at the stairs and grabbed my putter. As soon as it came back, I stormed the steps. The way our house is shaped, it'd be impossible to get to the back bedrooms before I got up there.
And, of course, there was nothing. I searched every room, every closet, under every bed before I descended back into the basement. I thought how pissed I would be if the footsteps returned because I always thought claims of physical events and the like were nonsense. Sure enough, I sat down and they came back. From 9:00am until noon, the footsteps kept going. Trying to pretend it wasn't happening, I ignored them and continued to play video games. When my father came home, they stopped all together. I have never heard them upstairs, again.
After that, I started looking into the paranormal more and more. I became interested in Tarot cards, crystal balls, and all that stuff. I made a few friends in high school and left for college and came back home to work.
About a year or so later, I started talking to this girl I had been friends with in HS. Let's call her Cass. Cass and I had fought and stopped talking to each other, mostly because she had feelings for me and I didn't have any for her. She's coming to my house all the time after I let her back and we have a few great times but I still can't shake the feeling that she still likes me. Anyways, I finally let spill I have Tarot cards and stuff.
She tells me that she has the ability to feel/see spirits, and I found that interesting. She was my friend so I had no real reason to doubt her, but I will admit it was pretty dumb just to blindly accept what she was saying.
It started one night after I had a crystal ball out and she was in a 'trance'. She pulled out her hair, pretending to be possessed, and then broke her trance. I started to get ill, my stomach just felt like it was churning, and I got up for the bathroom. As soon as I left the hallway, I felt better immediately and came back. As I turned the corner, the metal folding chair shifted and she seemed scared for a moment. It was dark and I thought she kicked the chair. I sat down in it and we talked for a moment, and then she left.
I say pretend to be possessed because I talked to her mom privately and found out she would rip her hair out all the time as a kid. Eventually, she started making threats about demons taking her, especially when her new boyfriend came into the picture. He was one of my best friends, and we used to tell ghost stories. Anyways, I told her his ghost story and she used it to make him believe her.
Her claims became much more wilder as we went on. On one particular claim, she stated that there had been a strange ceremony done in the basement and I went down with her boyfriend to 'investigate'. I didn't believe her at this point but it was kind of fun, so I kept with it. We were in the room and I touched the floor where her boyfriend claimed his father did some sort of ritual (I could believe it to be honest). There was no pentagram or anything strange at all. It was the same cracked blue floor when I first came over years prior. I double checked to make sure there wasn't a double coating of paint, and stood up.
I told him I couldn't see anything that would indicate what she said, and he told me it was true. At that moment, there was this growling sound and I thought it was from the vent above us or behind us. Then, he jumped and swore, pulling up his sleeve and a red mark started to appear. I'm not sure if this was faked (it would be fairly hard to time) or not, because I have always been skeptical by nature. Finally, the footsteps made their grand return after we started to part ways.
I was laying in bed one morning, sprawled out under a heavy blanket, and pulling back the covers. I saw something at the foot of my bed. Had to be five and a half feet tall or taller. Black streaks in grey fur and a distinctly canine face on a humanoid body. Being a twenty three year old man, I promptly covered my face desperately trying to convince myself that it was my blanket. The colors were very similar. Then, there were footsteps around my bed like when I was a kid. They got really quick, side-to-side. I finally decided to attack it.
Throwing back the covers when it was at the corner of my bed, I jumped forward, nearly off the bed but there was nothing there. On all fours, I was dazed and as I was trying to figure out what the hell had happened, there was this thunders slap, side to side down the hall, up the steps and the front door banged hard.
A few minutes later my father came in, and I was still in shock. I yelled up to him if he heard anything or did anything. He didn't and eventually, I got back to sleep. Later, I called "Cass" and her boyfriend telling them about the events and they called back later that night reporting the sounds of scratching all over the house.
There have been no events since then. Seeing as these incidents have been happening three or four years apart, I may be due for another visit this year or next. This story is similar to another and you can see my effort to make contact wasn't successful: http://www.yourghoststories.com/real-ghost-story.php?story=14167
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