My name is Ben, and this is my second story. The first, ” I Need Out Of This Haunted House ” was posted in December, and recounted the details of the first six horrifying months I spent in my new home. The events in that story took place between April and November of 2009. Things have gotten much worse in my house since then, and telling the story is quite therapeutic for me, so I will continue with this story pretty much where the last one left off. It may be beneficial to find and read that one first if you haven’t yet.
After waking one morning to a chilling message typed onto my laptop, it was the final straw. After months of eerie happenings around the house, my nerves finally broke. I dressed quickly, grabbed my computer, my car keys and ran out the door. I vowed never to step foot in that house again, I wanted to sell it and never look back. In a coffee shop later that day I posted my story online, and began searching for a realtor who could get rid of the place for me. I called a friend of mine, Ed, and hearing the fear in my voice, he offered up his spare room for a while. I jumped at the opportunity.
I drove over to his place, and once there, he asked me to tell the story from the beginning. After telling him, he began to laugh. Ed was a non-believer in ghosts and said, “You don’t need to sell your house. It’s obvious someone is just messing with you. Someone with a grudge maybe.” I couldn’t think of anybody I had pissed off enough to make them repeatedly break into my house and cause all the damage that had been done. “No,” I said, “I thought that at first, but my house has an alarm system, and I have the only set of keys for the new set of locks that were installed when I moved in.” He still wasn’t convinced. He said that if somebody wanted to get in badly enough, they’d find a way. His interest was piqued, and he suggested we both go back to my house to investigate. I tried to refuse but he reminded me that at this point I had only the clothes on my back, and my laptop. Surely I’d need to pick up some clean clothes, or at least grab my wallet. We’d play it by ear, and if I felt comfortable, we would spend the night there together, and we’d try to catch the person responsible.
We got to the house, and right away he told me to lock the doors behind us, and arm the security system. I did that and we started a complete sweep of the house, making sure we were the only ones there. In the daylight, and with a friend there, I began to relax. Maybe he was right. It probably was someone just out to scare me. We had some dinner and decided to jam in my music room. About twenty minutes in, we heard in the distance what sounded like a door quickly opening and then slamming shut. We stopped playing, I went white as a sheet, while he was still skeptical. He leaped up and ran out of the room towards the sound, and I followed. I was running behind him when he stopped at the door that led to the basement. He said, “I just saw this door slam shut. Whoever’s doing this has got to be down here.” He opened the door and looked down into the basement. My basement is pretty straight forward. It is a single unfinished room, with no windows, and we were standing at the only door at the top of the stairs leading down. The room was empty. “Explain that,” I said.
The evening turned into late night, and while he was still skeptical, Ed was clearly shaken up by the door incident, as well as the sporadic banging and thumping noises that would be heard every so often in other parts of the house. The bumps and thumps always seemed to come from a distant part of the house. We got up to investigate the first few, but found nothing every time. Eventually we stopped getting up, it was just a waste of time.
Bedtime came sooner than I wanted it to, but we were both exhausted at 2 AM. I had been dreading going back in that bedroom, but Ed reassured me that he’d be in the room right next door. I felt like a child, but asked that we leave our doors open and all of the lights on. He agreed and we got into bed. I was tired and had the hardest time falling asleep. The feeling of being watched was just too much. Eventually, I did fall asleep, but not for long.
I awoke to what felt like a hard shove. Maybe I dreamt it, because when I opened my eyes again, there was nothing in the room. That’s when I realized how dark my room was. My bedroom door was now closed, and I could see under the crack that the hallway lights had been turned off as well. I banged on the wall and called for Ed, no answer. I flicked on my lamp, and got out of bed. I opened the door, and saw that all the lights that we had left on were now off. The whole house was dark. I looked around the corner and saw that the door to Ed’s room was still open, so I called his name again. Still no answer. Flipping my bedroom light on, then the hallway light, I walked over to his room and saw that his bed was empty. I started to panic at this point.
I turned the light on in his room, poked my head in, and saw that he was nowhere to be found. I walked over to the bathroom to see if he was there, and it was also empty. Turning on every light as I went, I poked my head into each room to look for my missing friend. My nerves were about shot at this point. Where could he be? I headed downstairs to see if maybe he had left, or gone to the kitchen for food or something. I turned the lights on and there he was, lying face down in front of the front door. He had vomited, and was lying with his face in the mess. I ran over to him and flipped him over. His face was bleeding and covered in scratches that went down his neck. He was breathing, but unconscious. I called his name, and he jerked awake and let out a scream. Then he started to cry. He said, “The door wont open, we need to get out, we need to get out of here… NOW!” I stood up and tried the door, and sure enough, it wouldn’t budge. The deadbolt wouldn’t turn and neither would the knob.
We were both out of our minds scared at this point. He was crying, I was shaking and on the verge of tears myself, and I didn’t even know what had happened. I asked what had gone on and he managed to spit out, “In the closet… I woke up and heard slow breathing coming from in the closet. It was open just a crack and I could see something watching me from inside. This – this thing pushed open the door and started coming towards me. It looked like a boy… but he was dead or something. His eyes were gone, his nose wasn’t there either and his face was all rotted away. He had no lips, I could see his teeth… his sharp little teeth! He put his arms out and started towards the bed. I jumped out of bed and ran out of the room to come and get you, but your door was closed and wouldn’t open. Then the thing was behind me again in the hallway… arms out, reaching for me. I took off running for the front door, but every time I looked back he was never more than five feet back. As soon as I could see the front door, all of the lights turned off. I ran the last ten feet in the dark. When I got to the door it wouldn’t open. Then he was RIGHT behind me. I could see his rotten little hands opening and closing, reaching out for me as he got closer. I was cornered, my knees gave out on me, and I fell. I could smell him now, and thought I was going to be sick. He let out a gurgle that kinda sounded like laughter, then he… he touched my face, and put his face right up close to mine… and that’s when I passed out.” He started to cry again. Then he started to scream. All of a sudden, the house was filled with this horrible foul odor. I’ve never smelled a dead body before, but I’m sure that’s what I smelled that night. Ed could smell it too, “He’s coming!” he screamed. He quickly rose to his feet, grabbed a small wooden stool, threw it through my front window and jumped out through the broken glass. I didn’t even glance backward before following suit.
This happened about a month and a half ago, and since then I’ve been living at Ed’s. I have had to go back into the house for various reasons, but never alone, never at night, and never for more than a few minutes. The front window was repaired, and the house was put up for sale. Besides some minor cleanup, the house was left as it was the last time I was in it. No takers yet. I never mentioned the haunting, and my Realtor can’t figure out why nobody will bite. She says it’s a beautiful home, and I’m asking a fair price. She did suggest that I take down the creepy picture of the boy hanging next to the closet in the guest room. His eyes give potential buyers the creeps, she said. I wasn’t sure what she meant. Until I realized, there is no picture hanging in that room, only the small mirror that was already hung in there when I moved in.