The ghost Dog

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This story is not from me but my mother. She lived in a decent sized house in the middle of Illinois. She also lived on a farm to so House were rather spread out. She lived with 2 brothers, a sister, her and parents. I’m going to put this in her point of view.

I am about 16 and going through high school. My house was buried tombs that we do not know from who and we have Native American tribe that was lived in the area. We always see a man walk from our shed to the pasture and disappear. It frightens ya but we try to put faith in God as we are very religious. My great grandparents lived about a half a mile away so we would go there and help out. They were never the nicest and were quit mean so we never liked going up there. Once they died, we had to take out the furniture and all, and we blocked off the stairs to the dogs. We had only 1 dog and it was a mutt. Brown in color and nice, but it never came with us to the house. My brothers were upstairs cleaning and find a big black dog, dead… they rushed out of the house screaming. My one brother did wrestling so he was decently strong. We didn’t know what was happening so we ran out to from force of nature. We asked and he said like I said earlier.

My grandma lived in the opposite of my great grandparents and I loved her. I loved going to her house and eating her sugar cookies. Her husband, my grandpa, had passed before her and it was sad to see her so lonely. He always had a rocking chair that he would sit in. Once he passed, we(my family) would always see it rocking and smell a cigar, which he always had. Until my grandma passed, that chair and cigar smell went away. We always thought he was waiting for her. That was in 2001 and it is currently 2019 while writing this. My niece and her family lived in a trailer just across the road. She is a medium and is very spiritual. She had her house burn down and she moved into my grandparents old house. When she moved in, she says she always sensed a little girl and something demonic. She had the house blessed but it still does not seem right.

This the end of my mother’s storys.
I only have one paranormal story but it was the old jail house in Charleston South Carolina. It was a big shadow overpowering me. I was only 10-12 at the time and was not as informed about Lucifer and his beings at the time.

Also I love your criptid and demon stories. The skin walker, wendigo, and demon stories are my favorite. Thank you for keeping me intertained.

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