I would like to start by saying that this experience has been burned into my mind. I feel like I could live to be 150 years old, and it will never leave.
My parents rented a house from my grandfather when I was about six years old. It was an old house in small town Wisconsin, but it always had a weird vibe to it. Downstairs was a small kitchen with an entrance to a basement, opposite of that, an open doorway that led to a smaller dinning room, with a landing that led upstairs or into the livingroom, and to the side of that was my parents room.
Going upstairs you would climb a staircase into my sisters room, with the stairs cutting into the side of her room, and next to the stairs opposite of the top of the stairs would be another open doorway to my room.
You could look through the railing from the stairs into my room and see my closet and my bed. On the opposite side of the closet was a door that led to a room, I can only describe it as the attic because it not only looked the part, but also felt it too.
The door to the attic was always locked by a bolt from the inside of my my room, therefore if you were in the attic and it was locked, you were in the attic and would need someone to let you out.
Now we hadn’t lived there particularly long when odd things began to happen. I don’t know if I’d call this small, but in comparison I guess it is, one day all of my mother’s glassware flew off the shelves in the basement, at her.
While eating dinner, we heard a loud thud from the basement, only to find my dads punching bag, which was previously suspended from the ceiling had unlatched itself and fallen to the ground.
Then it escalated, my sister playing in her room was violently thrown down the stairs. But then it became quiet for about a month. I started having vivid nightmares of a monster in my room, normally it would come from the attic, and sometimes would just be there.
The monster would do terrible things to me each night, hitting me, kicking me, scratching me, but the worst would be when he would stick his hand into my chest and squeeze whatever organ he was able to grab. The odd part about this is I know in my dreams I looked directly at this monster, I saw the monster, but I was never able to actually remember what it looked like.
As the month got quieter and quieter my dreams got worse and worse. Some nights I wouldn’t sleep, only for the nightmares to be more violent the next night. I grew more distant from my family each day. My parents relationship got worse, and both me and my sister could tell by the amount of arguing.
One day I tried to talk to my parents about my nightmares. I was on medication for my ADHD, but I had been on it for the past few years without anything like this happening before. I tried my best to get their attention, but they were busy arguing and ignored me. Sadly my sister overheard me.
“There’s probably a monster under your bed” she said trying to scare me.
Then an idea popped into my head, a terrible idea. I ran up the stairs through my sisters room, and into my room. I ordered the monster to come out. Ten seconds past and nothing happened. With a smirk I walked out of my room into my sisters room and started to go down the stairs. Then I had a new terrible idea, one that I would regret for the rest of my life. As I got down the stairs I poked my head over the door and looked into my room and counted out stomps so it sounded like I was down stairs. For a whole second I was proud of myself. I had convinced the monster I was gone and there was nothing there, so I deduced there was no monster.
Then it came out of my closet.
My closet never opened. The door knob never turned, and the hinges never creaked. But through the door came a man. He was completely white, even his clothing, I could almost see through him but at the same time I could not.
His face, torso, and arms were easily visible, but his legs slowly disappearing the farther they went down. He took two steps out of my closet and simply gazed at the attic door. His face was the worst part, it was twisted in agony and pain.
His mouth was a permanent grimace, and his clenched knuckles confirmed it.
I was frozen in fear. it was weird, the only way to describe it was if I was watching a movie. Then it dawned on me, I was actually here, I was the six year old on the staircase. That man was in my room. This was actually happening! The man took another step, then another, and another. My instincts kicked in and I ran down the stairs screaming.
I couldn’t speak, all that came out where sobs and high pitched wails.
Everything after that moment seemed surreal, after fussing over me for a bit my parents resumed arguing, my sister played with her toys in the livingroom, but I just sat there registering everything that happened, knowing later I would have to go to my room to sleep.
I didn’t sleep the night before and I was already tired. My parents must have noticed because my father picked me up and carried me to bed. I sat there in my bed, terrified to move. Then slowly my eyes felt heavy, my blankets warm, I fell asleep. That night in my dream the monster came out of my closet. It grabbed me by my leg and drug me out of the bed, it seemed angrier than normal, and I couldn’t get my body to move. I was drug across the floor. It’s hands reached up and unlocked the attic door. And drug me into the attic, and the door just seemed to close on its own. I was in the middle of the attic, the monster stood over me as if contemplating what to do to me.
Then suddenly I was awake. I looked around me, slowly the pieces started coming together, my googgy mind registering the boxes, my hand feeling the cold wooden floor. I was in the attic. I walked to the door as calmly as I could muster, the doorknob turned, but as I pulled my weight away from the door, there was no give. I was locked in the attic. I screamed. My parents rushed to my aid, and let me out. Looking back I don’t remember much after that night, I know I slept on the couch in the livingroom for a long time after that, and I know I never had another nightmare.
A few yeas ago, now 23, I told my mom what had happened, I drew her a sketch of the man I saw that day. We decided to do some research on people who lived in the house before us, lucky for us my grandfather keep all the info on past renters organised and I was able to find what I needed. The couple that rented the house before us was an older couple. The man passed away in the attic from a heart attack.
The lady moved to a nursing home and passed away a little after the last encounter with the monster. I’m not sure what to make of all of it, and I am not sure I want to know any more. But in the same folder as the renter info was a picture of the couple, and I swear the same man in the photo was the man I saw that day so long ago.
To whoever or whatever tormented me as a child, may we never meet again.