Haunted House - 5/12

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby lrwpublication » Tue Jul 21, 2009 4:06 pm

I finally lay down to sleep in my brand new house. Who knew I would get such a great deal. It's been rough trying to get the down payment but with God's help I did. Everyone thought I would regret buying my first house whith the economy the way it is, but I put my faith in God and...
"What's that?" turning my head toward the noise.
Nothing. Silence. I close my eyes, thinking, "a piece of wood must have hit the roof. A lot of trees are around this house."
Again, I hear the noise.

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby dschmitt » Sat Aug 01, 2009 10:27 pm

The floor is covered with boxes, the still and reticent observers that they are. I wish that these quiet cardboard harbors of my life possessed screams capable of ricocheting off of the dusty piano keys in the corner of the room. I swear I heard that old worn-out piece, heard it only twenty seconds ago. Has it really only been twenty seconds? That run that hesitantly starts at D sharp and reverberates off of its end at E. Chopin was my mother’s favorite composer. As the pinpricks of thin dull needles reaches from the skin on my clavicle around to the hair beneath my ponytail, I find it ironic that the song I heard just twenty seconds ago in my empty apartment at the agile hands of my late mother was a posthumous Nocturne.
Is my book still in bed? I faintly remember reading for my philosophy lecture, something about Kant or whatever—probably why I dozed off in the first place. As the faint light from the standalone lamp at the far end of the living room creates no superfluous shadows I can only conclude that the music, however strikingly nostalgic, was probably imagined. The aged wood beneath my feet creaks and moans as I extinguish the light in the near-empty den and head back to the welcome comfort that is my bedroom with the security in toe that is my wear for worn bear Muffin, always sans his irreparable left eye.
I clear away my notes and lay myself against the small opening that neglectfully separates the edge of the bed from the wall until my lower back reaches the cool and hard surface beneath my window. Still unnerved by my recent hallucinations, I hug Muffin, feeling the cotton from his missing eye hole soft against the apple of my right cheek. Though I leave my lamp lighted on my nightstand, I shut my eyes tight in hopes of an imminent darkness deplete of unusual noises. Placing my safety in the hands, or paws, of a plush semi-blind bear watchman, I drift off to the pleasant tranquility between sleep and consciousness. I feel dizzy as I spin and fall further away from my body. I see movement beyond my eyelids. We learned this in psychology senior year, how the eyes and the inner ear coordinate balance and that discordance between the two results in dizziness and nausea. I do not know how to explain this, but I am almost certain that the nausea is not a result of this occurrence. A perturbing and pressing dull thud shakes my memory as I squeeze one eye open at its minimum. I regurgitate stomach acid as I see the shadow of my deceased mother hanging limply from an invisible sheet that was her self-made noose.

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RE: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby missab5 » Tue Sep 08, 2009 4:02 pm

It was my first night in my new house. It took me years to be able to get to a place in my life where I could buy a house. I was so excited. My dog, a rottweiler and chow mix named Bubba, loved having his own yard. I had taken the week off from work to get moved in. I managed to get my bedroom set up and my necessities for the kitchen and bathroom unboxed. After a long day of unpacking I decided to settle into my bed to watch a movie. It was a scary movie, my favorite genre.
Popcorn in hand I got into bed and started the movie. Bubba lay at the foot of the bed and started to nod off. About half way through the movie I had the strangest feeling. Someone was watching me. At the same time Bubba’s ears perked up and he slowly lifted his head. I paused the movie. The house was quiet. It didn’t last long. Just as we were about to get comfy again we heard it. Two loud thumps. It was like a ball had fallen down the stairs. Only it was louder and heavier then a ball should be.
Bubba jumped off the bed and ran to the top of the stairs. He looked into the darkness and seemed to shake his head. He ran back into my room and jumped back onto the bed. My brave coward. I got up and turned on the light for the stairs. Both the stairs and the floor below were empty. I turned the light off and went back to bed. After resuming my place I hit play and finished watching the movie. My eyes kept wandering to the top of the stairs, as did Bubba’s. When the movie was over I turned off the TV and went to sleep. My sleep was restless and filled with dreams I forgot when I woke up.
The next morning I took Bubba out for a nice long walk. It was a chance to clear my mind and forget the strangeness of the night before. Once back in the house I continued unpacking and getting the house in order. While I was in the kitchen making lunch I heard a thud. Bubba started barking from upstairs. I went to see what happened, but didn’t make it far.
At the bottom of the stairs was a head. Barks turned to growls. I had to get upstairs. Half way to the second floor the stairs turn and there’s a landing. A body lay crumpled in the corner. I looked up to the top of the stairs and saw what Bubba was growling at. A shadow figure holding a machete dripping blood just stood there looking down at the body. He seemed to notice me then. If he had a face I’d say he smiled at me. He lifted his blade, took a step down the stairs and vanished. The body and head also disappeared.
I ran up the stairs to Bubba. Something bad had happened in this house. Something they neglected to tell me when I bought it. I went online immediately. It didn’t take me long to find it. The original owner had the house built for his wife and young son. Everything was good until he caught her with the gardener. He ambushed them with the gardeners’ own blade. Just as he left the bedroom the husband swung the blade and decapitated him. The head flew to the bottom floor while his body slammed into the wall and came to rest on the landing. The wife screamed and cried and begged for her life. The husband just walked down the stairs and out the front door. He was never to be seen again. She took her son and never looked back.
Information like that would be nice to have when buying a house. I guess it’s ok if it’s just residual. As long as it can’t hurt me I should be fine. I just need to claim this space. That night I woke from a sound sleep to find the shadow man standing over my bed. Moonlight coming through the window winked off his blade as he raised it. I screamed as…

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby Im back acre1964 » Sun Dec 13, 2009 6:46 am

You've recently purchased a new house. Upon your first full night there, you begin to hear noises but think nothing of it—until you see something that convinces you the house is haunted.

When buying a house on 617 Main Street in Middleville Michigan. I had a bad reatailor and seller so I decied to enjoy the Ghost. I like it so much I sent the Ghost to the people and Spirits who were holding me down.
I let them take care of the evil people who were haunting me and my real family and friends our whole life. I know something but what do I know? By the way this house was bought on Friday the 13 June 2008. Is scary and true or not? Got to love this?
Thanks to bad love and and the evil spirits that came with them!!! May they take them away like the Hope Diamond.
From Shawn Acre

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RE: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby perditechno » Sat Apr 24, 2010 8:29 pm

New homes come new excitements, but mine comes with a quirk. Since moving in yesterday, the TV has changed the channel on its own twice. Just now, I was watching the news, and went into the kitchen for some orange juice, I heard the TV switched to the song Bleeding Love.

Then while taking a shower, I hear the TV going crazy, flipping the channels in fast speed. Bleeding Love is playing again.

It's 3 am, and I wake up to the blazing sound of once again Bleeding Love. Too lazy to get up, I stuff pillows against my ears. When the song ends, the TV turns off, but before I know it, I'm dreaming. A lady in her white nightgown is trying to tell me something, but her voice is drowned out by loud ringing noises in the background. She's wearing a beautiful red locket in the shape of a bleeding heart flower.

The dream reoccurs every night after that, more frequent and more intense each time. The noise becomes louder, more frantic as if more and more phones were ringing at the same time. After a week, the noise becomes unbearable, but tonight, the dream only occurs once, with no background noise. The lady smiles at me and says, "Bleeding heart, bleeding love!" I don't know what she meant, but I have found bleeding hearts carved onto the walls throughout the house.

Saturday comes; I'm glad to be out and about. As I walk down Penn. Ave, I notice a lady wearing a white jacket bearing a bleeding heart flower on the back. Then her phone rings, and it's the tune of Bleeding Love.

"You're not coming?" she asks, "I have to spend the day alone?"

She hangs up and seems a bit upset. She glances at me.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help but notice the bleeding heart. Where did you get the jacket?"
"It's custom made. My mom loved bleeding heart."

She walks off and gets into a limousine.

I walk half a block when the limousine pulls over, and she rolls down the window.

"I'm new in town. Would you consider showing me around?"

I smile, and so we spend a wonderful day together. In the evening, I make her dinner.

"You live here?" she asks.

She's surprised to see me living in such a great house, since the way I look doesn't scream rich, and she's right. The house just happened to be foreclosed for half of its value.

After dinner, we dance to the song Bleeding Love.

"Oh, I love this song," she says.
"I noticed."

I turn it louder, and the lights flicker, then the power goes out.

"Oh, great! I'm new here. I don't even know where the fusebox is," I say.
"It's in the basement, three steps to the right."
"Oh, OK. I'll be right back. Wait! How do you know?"

In darkness, I hear her giggle softly.

"Oops, sorry, I'm not really new in town. This's my childhood home. We moved when my mom passed away."

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby PaperDoll » Sat Apr 24, 2010 10:48 pm

All houses have their quirks. Noises that rumble or creak or groan through the arthritic skeleton of a hundred year old house are even more unusual, mysterious... sometimes, petrifying.

My husband didn't want this house at first. He said that too many things can go wrong with a house this old. Too many things have happened here. I laughed. I always loved these old brownstones and he acquiesed. Now, he works nights, and thinks the house is just fine. He sees it in the light of day, sleeps amid the muted sounds of traffic, the neighbor children playing hide-and-seek, the rustle of daytime chores.

At midnight, I huddle alone in the dark under mountains of blankets, even though the house is too warm, and I listen. The hardwood floor is an ocean around me and my bed is an island. I listen to sounds that I know are not quite right. For what could make those sounds? They scratch, they pound, they whisper in the walls. I know it is just a matter of time.

Tonight there's no one home but me. I hear the faint tapping of footfalls, too light even for a child. Floorboards creak. The sound of a breeze whips about, while the stagnant feel of the room closes in around me. My heart thunders in my ears, but I stay as motionless as a rabbit under the watchful eye of a predator. And there it is. Hot breath upon my face. Inches away, even though my eyes see just blackness. There is nothing to do. I close my eyes and let come what may.

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby Trissa » Sun Jan 30, 2011 7:50 pm

True story, peeps.

I snore when I sleep on my back. My jaw relaxes, I throw my arm over my head and...ZZZZZ. This has been the norm since childhood. A childhood where I was raised in the very house my father was born in Christmas Eve 1912. Every Christmas Eve, dad would point towards the dining room and proclaim, "I was born in that corner."

Not only was my father born in my childhood home...my grandfather died in an upstairs bedroom and was laid out in his casket in the living room in 1952.
For all intents and purposes, a perfect stage for hauntings.

As a child I slept in an infant bed in my parent's bedroom. My three sisters slept in a bedroom on the other side of the wall of that bedroom. My bed was placed to an adjoining door complete with a transome window.

One night I was awakened from a sound sleep to a strange sound. An eerie "wooooo" filled the room. I opened my eyes to find a white shape bobbing up-and-down over my head. I can only imagine how large my eyes became at the sight. Screaming, I ran to my sisters' room, only wondering what they were facing there. Imagine my surprise when I found my sister Nancy rapidly reeling in a white spool of thread from the overhead transome, My other two sisters stared at me in amazement.

Maybe they were actually staring at mom. Upon hearing my scream, she was hot on my heels. What I remember next was mom shouting at my three older sisters. Nancy stood on her bed holding a spool of thread covered with one of our dad's white hankies.

I was too young at the time to grasp what had happened, but now... Sibling rivalry can haunt your memories forever.

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby Bridgetoo » Sat Dec 17, 2011 5:34 pm

The house was on Cherry street, a wonderful neighborhood, someplace that would never be haunted. It was three stories and an old Victorian home that was over one hundred years old.

"This home is beautiful, your going to love it! It suffered earthquake damage but that has all been fixed." The real estate agent said.

I nodded my head and signed the bottom of the page without reading it. The agent snatched the clip board away.

"It's all yours!" The real estate guy exclaimed. He quickly walked out of the house which was odd. I walked through the house and felt someone watching me but using my knowledge of EMFs I decided I would check out the bad eletrical later. The house itself had wood flooring and banisters.

After one month, I drove home and in the third story window someone stared back at me. A little girl, her hair in braids and a lonesome expression in her eyes. I rushed inside and up the stairs and saw nothing. I hoped it was my imagination and continued on my way.

That night, I saw the little girl in a dream. She played outside my house and her room was my room. Then the earthquake came. She was on the third floor and a shelf holding paint cans fell down on top of her, crushing her.

I awoke. The little girl stoof in front of me. Oddly, I wasn't scared, she was harmless and lonely.

"Can you tell me your name?" I asked. The little girl stared back at me and her mouth didn't move but I heard,

"Helen." Sadly, I moved out of that house but the new owners are paranormal investigators who have contacted her and have friended her. Now, once a day, I drive passed and she waits for me in the third story window and I always hear,
"Hi Alyce, this is Helen." And I say aloud,
"Hello Helen."

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby Hannah-Lynn » Wed Jan 02, 2013 5:29 pm

He had trouble sleeping. It wasn't the new house but those noises didn't help any, surely. Undiagnosed insomniac tendencies - he'd looked it up. He had the time to, every night. He'd even collected quotes on the topic in the freed up time. One of his favorites? "Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.' " He had no idea who Charles M. Schulz was but the line rang too damn true.

But sometimes. Oh, my, sometimes he got to rest. For a bit. On occasion. Brokenly.

And in those times, it was heavenly. His bed was so damned comfortable he had no excuse for not being about to catch some real shuteye on it. Like a cloud, it was! However, bachelor that he was he saw no need for anything as ridiculous sounding as a duvet or as unnecessary as a bed frame. His mattress was a cloud but it was stacked on box springs sitting flat on the floor in the corner of his bedroom. This set his bed at the height of his window, a nice window, a good sized window that he left open on cool and colder nights. It had a screen - he knew enough to have that. Bugs were a potential problem and he wasn't a fan in the least. And the blinds were good. They were the crappy cheap white blinds that a cat can bend too easily by playing in but hey, they were enough to keep from over-informing his neighbors when he got lazy with pants.

A problem, not the problem, but a problem was that he was tall. Taller than the size of mattress he had - but it was so comfortable. His feet always hung over the end unless he laid diagonally and just as a person habitually chooses one side of a big bed to sleep in he'd long since chosen a corner for his head. His corner was between one wall and the next, where the open, screened, blinded window sat and when he laid down accordingly the bottom of that window was on eye level. And when he laid just so with his head turned toward the window, usually lying on his stomach, he could see out of the very slight corner that the blinds left just a tad open. When the lovely occasion came where he slept, he'd sometimes drift in and out - never a full on unconscious sleep but rather a fading in and out for a durable few hours. He didn't know he started it and had no idea how it'd become habit but all at once it was and in the parts of his sleep where he drifted awake a bit he'd open one eye, look out that crack of window, survey the quiet night, and an odd sort of satisfaction he'd drift right off again.
Every few nights he had the opportunity for this and he never really thought much of it. The empty front yard always defeated the odd noises. Those he'd long stopped investigating. It was an old house. Just an old house. A classic, an antique. It was well kept, besides, but had so much of its original moldings, it was a great house. The noises weren't anything to worry about.
Last night, though, last night when he got to sleep he drifted in then out, then in again. He came to, looked out, found peace, and slept. He came to, looked out, and froze. His brown eye was on perfect level with a big blue eye. Then it blinked at him and all hell broke loose.

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Re: Haunted House - 5/12

Postby mokingjay » Wed Mar 26, 2014 11:28 am

Haunted house.

The house was dark, cold and wet. My brother and I waved our flashlights slowly over the old wooden walls.
“Why did I agree to this?” I asked him. “Why did you take that bet? Why did you drag me along?” I said clutching my sleeping bag. My brother scowled and me and started up the stairs. I Ran after him sending a cloud of dust every place I put my foot. The dust danced upwards behind me swirled in whispering patterns and meandered down the hallway. I Hurried after my brother. Flicking on broken light switches as I went, each bulb flashed and popped sending bright blue sparks into the air.
“Will you stop that?” He hissed at me. I Backed against a wall. The noise coming from the room at the end of the hall sent shivers down my spine. It was a whimpering, moaning coughing sound.
“Jack.” I said my throat catching my breath and holding it there. “Jack what is that?” I asked pointing my flashlight on the door. It creaked and opened a little, something white lay on the floor just visible from the light of my flashlight.
“Probably a bird, or a cat, or someones idea of a joke.” He said acting cool and brave. I Saw the unmistakable whiteness around his mouth, and knew he wanted to leave.
“Can we go now?” I asked quietly watching the silvery shape on the floor.
“No, come with me.” He walked a little ways down the hall way. I Started to follow him but the same door opened a little more and the shape on the floor shifted.
“Jack!” I moaned. “Jack come here1.” I pleaded. The shape stood up, the shapeless shape floated towards the door.
“Jack.” I said. The moaning coming from the room turned to a loud high wail. I Screamed. Jack Screamed, the shape reached out what may have been a hand and grabbed the door frame. I Tried to move. My feet were rooted to th spot. Jack grabbed my arm and pulled me backwards. I Watched the shape rearing, ready to come out into th hall.
The form of a tall woman was barely visible in the mass of shifting light. She reached out her foot, she moved into the hall way. My breathing came in loud gasps. Jack had stopped tugging on me. We were staring transfixed. The woman put out her hand towards us. Jack reached out to her. I screamed. A rush of wind blew my hair forwards. Blew the shape back wards, slammed the door shut. I ran, Jack ran. We tumbled out side into the night and watched as the entirety of the house, flickered for a moment, the scream of the woman followed us out side, the house flickered again, she scream sounded again and then both were gone.
"We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruit. Who knows upon which soil they fed their hungry thirsty roots." `Christina Rosetti


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