Footsteps Upstairs And The Amateur Typist

My wife and I were living in a tiny two bedroom apartment when we found out my wife was pregnant with our beautiful son. We were both in the Navy at the time, so it was hard to do extensive house shopping. I was always out to sea for a few weeks, then home for a few weeks and so on. We found a home, close to base, in Newport News, VA. It's located in a nice golf course community called Kiln Creek. We thought the home was beautiful. It had two stories and plenty of room for the little guy.

The first creepy thing that took place happened in broad day light. The bedroom closet on the first floor was not painted when we moved in, so I took it upon myself to paint it. We were still settling in, so the sound of foot steps upstairs was no cause for alarms, until I heard my wife yell from the kitchen, "What are you doing up there?" That's when I stopped painting and I walked out and looked at her. I startled her because she thought I was upstairs. I checked the house and nothing.

There would be other subtle things such as a bright flash coming from the second floor loft, as if a camera flash went off. Whispering could be heard upstairs as well. I never slept one complete night the entire 2 years we stayed there. My wife and I deduced that whatever was in the house, it was upstairs.

The final straw was when my wife woke me up at approximately 3am. She was trembling with fear, almost crying. I asked her what was wrong and she told me, "shhh, just listen." That's when I noticed that a light was on in the loft. It wasn't just any light it was the light of my computer monitor. The same computer I ALWAYS put on sleep, meaning the mouse must be moved or keys must be stroked to bring the screen up. Then I heard it typing. It sounded like an amateur typing one key at a time with his/her index fingers only. The sound took my breath away. It was distinct, the same sounds I hear as I type this experience. I mustered as much courage as I could, protecting my wife and child. I picked up my 22inch mag flashlight and crept to the loft. I figured my best move was to jump out and try to startle whoever was there. I jumped out from behind the wall and screamed! As soon as I turned that corner the typing stopped and my computer chair spun a 180 until it stopped facing me. I have never had goose bumps run down my legs but I sure did when I was standing there, frozen with fear, anticipating something terrible.

That was the last night we slept upstairs. We spent the last 7 months in that house, sleeping on a mattress on the floor of our living room with our son always between us. I do believe something attached itself to us. Everywhere we go there are always little things that happen. Voices, kids' toys turning on and playing by themselves.

I feel better now than I did then. I feel like my soul is in a healing process, and hopefully one day, I'll no longer be scared.