The Night I met death

When I was 15 years old, my life was in all kinds of turmoil. I won’t bore you with all of the little details, but I guess I could important to note that it was a tumultuous time in my life. My mom and her second husband were in the midst of a divorce, my younger two siblings were taken away by the state, and her and I were bouncing from couch to couch for months, using up all our good faith with family and friends.

Finally, my mother got approved for a mortgage, and she bought a little two bedroom house in town. After spending my entire life out in the sticks, I was a little disappointed at the fact that our closest neighbors went from miles away to meters away, but I was absolutely elated that I would finally have my own room again. I grew even more excited the day we moved in, when I saw it. My room was the entire upstairs! Though it was technically an attic, so the ceiling was a bit short, and I’d have to be careful not to hit my head on the rafters… It was still my teenage dream come true!

When I opened the door to my new room, I was greeted imediatly with a steep staircase leading up about 15 steps. Where the wall of the stairwell met my bedroom floor, there was a railing in place, for safety. I placed my foot on to the first step, and suddenly my excitement was replaced with a sudden urge to run. I complied to this urge, and booked it the whole way up the stairs.

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I used to live in a haunted house

The story I’m about to tell happened in a small village, on the Russian border. I was about 7 or 8 years old when my family moved to a house that was built by the previous owners. By the time we moved in, the house was about 70 years old or so. The house had a main floor, an attic and a basement, where the sauna was. I always hated going in the basement alone and didn’t enjoy going to the attic either.

I will start with my mom’s experience. I was 16 and we had already moved out of the old house when she told me about this. She said that she never felt welcome in the house, and she was slightly afraid every time she was inside alone.

One day, when she went to get something from the attic, she heard a box fall off onto the floor on its own. This obviously scared her, especially since she knew she was alone in the attic. The attic had 2 windows and only one light bulb, leaving a greater half of it completely dark at night and during the winter. Due to the darkness she couldn’t see which box fell down, or why it did that. I’m kind of happy she didn’t tell me this before we moved out, even though I was super interested in paranormal things as a child, and still am.

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The Wicker House

Of course everyone claiming residence in Arthur’s Wake knows tales associated with the Wicker House. It seems that every small province plays host to some structure of ill repute which, as if by supernatural magnetism, draws rumor of ghosts and bogies, wrapping the timber and stone of its foundation in a shroud of darkness and horror. In Arthur’s Wake, the Wicker House fills this odious task.

Scant days after arriving in town, while taking the time to familiarize myself with the local watering hole and its residents, I became introduced to the well known superstitions surrounding the Wicker House. As a man of science, I knew any truths to be found in these outlandish stories were likely embellished to points unrecognizable. Nothing was first hand; all experiences were from a friend who knew a fellow who may have seen something. It is the provincial mind which transforms wild dogs into wolves that walk like men and interprets astronomical phenomena as harbingers of certain doom. Still, my curiosity sufficiently piqued, I endeavored to better inform myself upon the subject through more objective means. To my great surprise, while failing to confirm the more supernatural claims of the tales, the town records in the basement of the local library did provide aspect to a most sinister reality all their own.

The house was built in 1920 by the millionaire Tomas Wicker who, in addition to being both a successful oil prospector and fishing magnate, was by all accounts completely insane. No one knows what first drew Wicker to Arthur’s Wake. Some speculate this as the first outward sign of his impending madness. What is known was that the foundations of the house which would come to assume his name were poured almost immediately upon his arrival.

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The Pedophile Attic Creepy Stalker

I was 11 years old when I moved to the Massachusetts area from the New Hampshire area. I was an awkward girl and didn’t make friends easily.

Everything in the house had carpet except for the attic. It took a pull down ladder to get up into and it gave off an unfinished creepy vibe off. Also, it was in my room so it creeped me out even more.

One day, I was left home alone on a Friday Night. My parents were out and my little brother to a friend’s house. I invited a friend over to my house because I was so bored.

Soon after, she came and we started making cookies and making popcorn to watch a movie. As we were watching the movie, I heard footsteps coming from upstairs. I dismissed them at first thinking it was just outside, but after the footsteps came back, it worried me.

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The Soldier in my Attic

This story is about what happened to my brother in the attic of my old house.

When I was 8 years old I lived in a long row of red brick terraced houses in the city of Manchester, UK. These houses were built during World War 2 and were one army barracks and home to soldiers and their families.

If you’ve ever watched the TV soap ‘Coronation Street’ you’ll know what type of houses I mean. The whole street looked like an L.S. Lowry painting.

The house was set over three floors, the living room, kitchen and bathroom on the first floor, my bedroom and my parents bedroom on the second, and the attic had been separated into two bedrooms for my brothers.

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