(Sorry for any spelling/grammar problems, I tired my best.)
For context, I live in Virginia, the south western side near the Appalachian mountainous near a small, historical town called Abingdon. We have our fair share here of haunting, between the Martha Washing Inn, to the Barter Theater, and the supposed ghost hours outside on the grounds of the Martha. I still have yet to take the haunted tour they do here every October, but I digress. This story is about my home, a small barn house on a back road going form Abingdon to Glade Springs. This is the place I used to live.
I’m going to be vague, as I prefer to stay Anonymous and have a grandmother who loves being on the internet. She was very… expressive in stating our house wasn’t haunted. However, the encounters I had at this place stick with me as being a very creepy experiences, more so than when we caught a ghost on our camera at the St. Augustine Lighthouse.
Background first on the house, as I said it was an old farm house, used to be a log cabin before the owner added more onto the place. When we rented it from the landlord, they had recently painted it and were cleaning up the place. It sat near a small here where this old concrete barn was that was already being rented out to some people who had cattle. The drive way wasn’t long, but about a good 10 to 15 feet, on flat road that surround the two pastures before you pulled around the first small curve to the large elder oak that black half the house. Our yard was about the size of a normal trailer long ways in the front, and along the sides about half the size of a trailer long ways. The back yard was the size of two men arms apart to the electric fence that kept the cattle in their side. On the right side of the house, facing the road, was where the cars parked, on the left was where the fence started for the pasture that had this old iron and wood building hidden by bramble and honey suckle. This the side that also had this large, toddler shaped flat rock that was four feet from the small kitchen and washroom window.
The house was big, two stories and had an attic, that we sealed off due to birds and bees making nests in it. The living room was on the left side of the house from the middle entrance hall that had the stairs going up, from there you walked into the kitchen, to the bathroom on the far side, this side also led the covered back porch. On the right was my grandparents room, upsides of that was on the left mine and my sisters rooms and the right my parents room.
Now that you have the layout of the place in mind, a short history of the house. The landlord used to own the land that stretched from the end of the road from the train tracks all the way to the turn off to the road that lead back into town. So a good 7 to 10 miles I’d say. Used to be a dairy farm as far as we know, and the house we lived in used to belong to his mother before she died at the hospital. He sold off parts of the land or rented some of them out.
Now that that’s out the way, on to the story. So, I did share a room with my sisters on the left side of the house when they moved in when I was ten years old or so. Before then I lived with my grandparents, we fund this place rented out for cheap and it was a good place to live with and extra bedroom. From day one however, I always noticed the place was… off.
The house had an foreboding feeling when the sun went down. Inside was fine, when you were off the back or front porch at night, it felt like a normal home. Inside was warm and inviting, outside after dark was uneasy and sickening. That feeling you get when you being watched but you can’t pinpoint where the eyes are from. I honestly hated as a kid and teen to go outside after dark. At my new house, when not listening to scary internet stories, I feel fine going out onto the porch at night.
It was because of this feeling I avoid the back porch and front porch at night, by myself, like the plague. Also I avoided windows at night, even with all the lights on, it felt like something was glaring at you. Not a comforting feeling to say the least. I also hated, with emphasis on ‘hate’, camping outside during family reunions. Mostly on the left side of the house.
That rock I mentioned early on the left side of the house, there was something off about it. This was the side of the house were my grandfather often found little things, glass bottles and other items buried in the dirt. Nothing scary like bone,s but just items that were strange to say the least, but it was always on the left side of the house that made it odd to me. The rock, as I stated, was on the side also, and it was uneasy to be around even during the day. Standing on it made like electric shivers go up your spine and made you want to get off immediately. I hated sitting on it alone, and often avoided that side of the house alot without a friend over.
One day when a friend was over, we were sitting on this rock talking about a friend of hers that went to another school when crows started to gather on the trees around us. We left and they followed us all around the house and drive way. We joked about it, but it was uneasy enough that we went inside the house. Could just be a weird coincidence, however this next thing spooked me.
As I said I lived with my parents once I turned ten, reasons was my mom at the time couldn’t support me so she left me with my grandparents until she came back to live with us. After we moved, I talked to my step dad about the place, and he confirmed to me that place didn’t feel friendly at night. He told me a story of when he was on the front porch and heard a low, humanoid growl from that side of the house when he was smoking. Now my dad is a military guy, not much scares him, so he ran to check with the flashlight nearby, but found nothing. He always told me that place gave him the creeps.
And I say I believe him, to shorten it up, at night when I had to go the back porch for a soda or water I felt like something was glaring and watching me from the darkness. When I woke up at night to have to head downstairs to the bathroom I had to pass over four windows, and it felt like something followed me form window to window. The mail hall windows were square/spectacular, and from around the door from your waist up. This lead to the front porch, this was the area that when you headed up the stairs, you wanted to bolt as it felt like something stared at your from these windows, my sisters said they hated getting up at night for the bathroom because of it.
My bedroom with my sisters had two windows, one looked down at the rock on the left side of the house the other the front yard. I hated sleeping near either, as when you woke up you often felt someone or thing might be standing outside staring up at your window.
All of these stories might just be us teens and kids too paranoid, but this last thing chills me to this day. It was spring nearing fall time, dark outside. My middle sister was in the kitchen, I was on the section couch we had in the corner chair as we call it, as it was curved and made for the corner, on my laptop. My little sister was on the other couch near the door to the kitchen I think on her tablet. My dad was a seat away from me watching TV and my grandmother was near the TV on the right hand side on her computer playing games. My grandfather was in his room as was my mom.
I remember typing out a reply to a friend of mine online and getting up to get something to snack on from the kitchen. When my grandmother, I think, got up to use the bathroom when she yelped out when I just passed by the window. “Someone is outside!”. My dad spring into action, and my grandfather must have heard the yelling after my dad went out with his pistol.
A black, shadowy person, as my grandmother and dad put it, was in the yard. At the time we had a large overhead light screwed onto the telephone pole outside casting a bright white light in the yard. Whatever this thing was was black, humaniod, and crouched behind the picnic table my grandfather made, which was near the large bushes and silver maple tree, and also a few feet from the light. No details could be made out of the person, I think my dad said he was just a black figure.
When my grandmother yelled and my dad saw him, they said he darted over the fence. Keep in mind, the pastures, while on a small slope, weren’t thick at all, the grass was short and you could easily see down the hill and into the neighbors yard. When my dad and grandfather got guns and ran to check, they found no one. No one running down the hill or trying to hide. As in the time it took them to get their one would have heard them trying to run to the old shed to hide or seen them at least. And also that fence was up to my neck and I was 5 foot at the time,and it was barbed wired with an electric fence that started at my thighs, so to jump over it they’d have to have been fast and very limber. Much less to make it over in one go and still keep going, as as soon as you jumped it you’d hit the small slope at about a 40 angle going down and would have tripped tumbling down instead, even for someone my grandfather size, about 6 foot 8!
Had they got the other way we would have easily seen them running up the incline to the barn or even down our drive way! They searched for half an hour or so, but found no one. This also happened a second time, and still we found no one. My grandmother chalked it up to some kids from our neighbors playing a prank or something, or maybe the crazy X of my landlords niece playing a prank.
However, given what I told you, I find that hard to believe. What human could do a jump like that, land perfectly, and be a be able to run without us seeing him. Even if he had managed to use the small hole in the fence, he still would have been caught or scraped or tripped by the barbed wire. I know as I tired getting through their fast and it caught my short hair and my clothing and scraped my neck up and finding your footing isn’t easy either. What with the ground hog/rabbit holes and all.
My dad proclaims to me, when I asked him about it after the move, that he thinks that place might have been on native land. That something dark and evil was around it, as all I mentioned above he’s felt also, but never told me or my sisters. I’m not even sure if this is speculation on his side or not, but all my encounters at the house have made me paranoid to go outside after sundown. It’s also why I sleep with black out curtains always closed at night.
If there are any other things I happen to hear from my family who has been there very year and outside at night, I’ll share them with you guys. This all is true, as unbelievable as it sounds even to me. For now, I’m glad to have moved, that place just didn’t feel right at all.