That Demonic Presence

I grew up north of Orlando, Florida. Where I lived was kinda in the middle of nowhere. The nearest store was 20 minutes away, so yeah, middle of nowhere.

When I was around eight or nine I had a few strange things happen to me in our home. Nothing too bad but made me think.

The first thing was someone calling my name. I would always ask my parents or my sister if they had called me but they never did.

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The Twenty-Eleven house

As cliché and annoying as it is sometimes, I need to start this story with a little preface, a little background and an apology as it may be on the long side for this category compared to similar posts. I’m picking this particular experience out of a timeframe that lasted for a cumulative total of eight years. I say ‘cumulative’ because I actually lived in this house/apartment on two separate occasions, but purely by coincidence. Or at least I thought it was coincidence. I don’t live there any longer and, looking back, I am convinced that the house called me back as if it wasn’t done tormenting me, my family and my friends.  Every week of every year I lived in that house was terrifying, to say the least. This experience takes place during my second stint in the house. Also, a little apology if this story sounds like it’s ripped straight from a horror movie, but I can assure you that it’s all true. This experience, in total, spans roughly a year and involves myself, Jamie – my wife, George and Lilly – our upstairs neighbors and my best friends Travis and his wife, Julie.

The Twenty-Eleven house is a large farmhouse that is one of the oldest structures in town; roughly 120 years old. For the last couple decades, it has been used as two apartments; the first floor and the second floor. It’s in the middle of a bustling town with many popular places to eat, drink and has a nice music scene. It isn’t some backwoods, middle-of-nowhere shack; it’s only a seven minute drive from the downtown area of a major city. I won’t give you a detailed history on the place, but, needless to say, it has had a long, jaded, destructive and violent past that has it infected.

When this experience first started, I was living on the first floor with another good friend, Kevin, and it had been almost a year, and a half-dozen people moving in and out of the second floor apartment before our landlord finally found a nice, married couple that loved the place; George and Lilly. They were sweet enough and kind of kept to themselves whereas Kevin and I were night owls and loved to stay up late drinking, playing video games, etc. For the first six months they lived upstairs, we were convinced they hated us because Lilly was awake before sunrise to leave for work and we weren’t the quietest of drunks. We thought she had OCD because at least a few days every week, she would move all – and I mean ALL – of her furniture around and run the vacuum cleaner across their entire apartment. The house was old and there wasn’t hardly a lick of insulation in the place, especially between our ceilings/their floor, so we could hear everything. She walked very heavily and slid the furniture with determination. It was assumed that she was doing it to pay us back for being so loud at night. This routine went on for the next six months until Kevin moved into his girlfriend’s place. After that, my place wasn’t so loud and neither was theirs.

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Intergenerational Horror

When I was in high school there was a class you could take that was connected to local history. I’m Canadian, but because I’m from the smallest province in Canada, we don’t get mentioned a lot in regular Canadian history courses, so I thought it would be a cool class to take. Our teacher was alright, a bit of a new-age nut, but she gave good grades and it was a pretty good blow off class. You took it to get your marks up.

Anyway, as part of the class, you had to do these little projects related to local history throughout the year. One of which was to tell ghost stories and legends we had picked up to the class at Halloween. I’m a writer, and really into all that horror stuff, so everyone expected me to do this assignment really well which kinda put some pressure on me. I gathered a bunch of different ghost stories, not knowing which would be better, and hoped for the best.

Come Halloween, we left our regular class and went to the auditorium across the hall. Our teacher, really selling the Halloween thing, turned off all the lights except for a flashlight she’d brought and handed it to me to get the ball rolling. I told a common one to start things off, about a local pirate myth, and then handed it over to the girl sitting next to me.

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The Red Jacket

Hi, My name is Kai and this story took place in the backwoods of West Texas

It was about 7 years ago the most terrifying event happened to me and 30 other people. I was about 12 years old when my mom my sister my grandma and I where heading to my sistersfriends house located 12 miles outside of town deep in the heart of the woods. The only reason we where heading out that way was because that was the location for my sisters girl scouts meeting of the month.

All the family of the girls where together talking inside discussing work and sports while all the children including myself where outside playing. The only room they had to play in the backyard was about 20 yards from the edge of the forest. Me and my sister where about to go inside because darkness wa starting to swallow the sky.

And at that moment everyone outside heard a horrific scream coming from the woods followed by the words “help me”. All the kids rushed inside to tell the parents about what had happened. Obviously the parents where skeptical about our story so they went outside to check them selfsame. They also heard the loud cries for help coming from the woods. Then the most terrifying sight came into view. A human like figure was running threw the woods wearing a red jacket, we couldn’t make out if it was a human or something else.

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Thing in my Window

This is a short story, but it took place when I was around 10-11 and I will never forget it.

First, I’ll explain the layout of my room. When you walk in the door, there is a window directly across from the door. My bed was on the wall on the right, with the headboard where the window is, so when I slept I was facing my door.

On this night, being the weird child I am, I decided to sleep the opposite way in my bed, facing the window. I slept with my cat Emma every night, with the window slightly open so Emma could sit in the windowsill and enjoy the breeze.

In the middle of the night, I heard a soft, faint hissing sound, but in my sleepy state I chalked it up to the breeze passing through the window and making a sound.

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Haunted Barn

I’ve been listening to these stories on YouTube for quite some time, and I’m a big fan of them. This is also my first post. I didn’t think I had a story to share of my own, but I remembered this one from my childhood.

When I was young, I had a friend who was the same age as me – for the sake of anonymity, I’ll call her Jane. She had two older non-identical twin sisters, who I’ll call Eva and Evelyn. They were friends with my older sister, partly because they were the same age. We knew them through our elementary school. They were living with their mom at the time, as they were too young to have a place of their own. The mom was divorced at this point but still unmarried, so the family was all girls.

We all live in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area), in Ontario, Canada. So the mom bought a property that was about an hour and a half outside Toronto, in the country. The property came with a very old barn that looked like it had been neglected for at least half a century. (The family doesn’t own any farm animals, but either way, the barn was in no state to house anything …. alive, at least). The boards had a weather-worn look and was decaying slowly from the inside out. Let me quickly describe it – the foundation and first part of the wall was made of cobbled stone, then the walls switched to wood. The roof narrowed into a steeple, and moss covered practically everything on the walls.

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My Dream House

My name is Danielle, I’m nineteen, and I have a bizarre story that began with a dream. This was a dream I had a few months ago, so unfortunately it’s a bit vague, but the details that stuck with me are perplexing.

In this dream, I was in a house I’d never seen before. To be forthright, I wasn’t even sure if I was me; I sometimes have dreams where I am seeing from the perspective of someone else. I am seeing with their eyes as if I were them, so I only know which perspective I’m seeing from if I distinctly remember when I wake up, or if I did something in the dream or acted in a way that was out of character. Although, even if I was myself, I had a different life–I was surrounded by friends and family that looked vaguely familiar, but I remember thinking to myself as I was dreaming that I didn’t really know them. But my Dream Self acted as though all was normal.

I was in the kitchen, which was located at the back of the house, sitting at a table, having a friendly conversation with a guy around my age. I took in my surroundings as we talked, gazing upon white walls and cabinets and a black and white checkered floor. At one point I went to grab something from the living room, which was through an entryway to the left of the kitchen. 

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It Hated All of Us

First off I’d like to start off by saying I am one who believes in the paranormal and I also believe in witches, witchcraft, and all that good stuff. I just turned 19,  but this story takes place when I was maybe around the age of 14. This is when I lived in an apartment with my older half sister and older half brother along with my little brother who isn’t half and my mother.

I’d also like to note that in this apartment, my mom had this family picture of all four of us kids and her. She also had seperate pictures of each of us near the kitchen along a window sill. This is important to the story later on.

Me and my younger brother came back from school to find the house empty. I forget what happened but for some reason, me and my brother got into a fight at some point. Me, being mad, went to my room and closed the door trying to avoid my brother in the other room. I started watching a movie which I remember clearly as being ‘The Blind Side’ when suddenly my brother comes barging in my room.

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Is my House Haunted or is it the Piano?

Now this is just kind of short, but I have remembered this since it happened to me when I was about 5 or 6. I have told a few people about this, but not many. When I was younger I would have trouble sleeping because I had a hard time breathing until I got surgery and had my tonsils removed after this.

So one night, I had trouble falling asleep, suddenly just as I was about to fall asleep around [1:00] or [2:00] in the morning, I was startled to the sound of the piano that was downstairs. We had bought it a few years ago as kind of a filler for the parlor. It is extremely out of tune when we bought it and we still haven’t tuned it.

Anyhow I had started to wonder if my mom or dad were playing so I went in their room to see if either of them were missing from their bed. Nope, they were both still there and my dad was snoring as usual.

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It Comes at Night

This happened to me maybe a year ago

Here’s a little background about my neighborhood: My house, and others, all sit in a circle. A perfect circle where people just built on, not knowing what was ever there before. Turns out, it was a Native American burial ground. Of course they just kept building, and we’ve all seen our fair share of horror movies where building on them, are a HUGE mistake.

Sometimes my closest friend and I will walk around the neighborhood, usually at night because it’s the only time she wasn’t busy. We would talk about little things such as work, boys, books, TV shows. Anything that made us happy really, and that usually made us comfortable. We would always walk past a soccer field connected to the circle. A thick wall of trees surrounded us on all sides, but if you walked through the field, there would be a old dirt path. Michelle and I were really the only ones who would walk it, and knew where it was.

Once in a blue moon we would walk down the path at night, but we would get scared and run back due to the growing feeling of Anxiety and Danger. We couldn’t walk around the circle alone because you would constantly look behind you, because you could feel someone right behind you at all times.

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