HOUSE OF MURDER AND SUICIDE
Out on the west side of town is a farm, over grown with pines and dense brush. It has been there since the late 1800's. A woman (I'll call Anna) and her husband built a large beautiful home, barn, garage and animal pens. Anna raised a family and her husband kept food on the table and a roof over their heads. In the mid 1900's Anna suddenly died of heart failure and soon after her husband followed in death, they say of a broken heart. Anna's eldest daughter kept the family business going with her husband and their son. Anna's daughter suffered from mental illness in her mid 30's. She began to abuse her son and husband. Her husband was so stressed by the abuse he too began to abuse their young son. Many years passed and their son grew into an angry, hate filled teenager. One night he had enough of her psychotic abuse and he hit her back, but he did not stop until the last breath escaped her body. His father came home to find his bloody, bludgeoned wife on the living room floor. His son awaited him in a darkened corner with a loaded shot gun. The young man let off many rounds into his father. The son drug their lifeless bodies to the cellar where he hid them. He then began to hear voices, it drove him to insanity. Six month's had passed and the bodies had begun to stink up the entire house the son could not handle it anymore. He went to the barn and hung himself. His body hung there for almost a week before the local authorities found him and his family's rotting corpses.
Many years have passed since the deaths and the house has fallen to ruin. The local homeless individuals inhabit the home, not knowing the history of the house. Some have left the city and some have never shown up in town again. I heard about the house from some locals downtown. So I decided to investigate. It was a warm July night when my friends and I adventured onto the land. We all said a prayer to keep us safe before investigating the house. At first things were just quiet and uneasy....until we got to the house entrance. The flash lights began acting up, we heard moaning and footsteps all around us. The house had recently been in a mysterious fire and still smelled of burnt wood and melted wires. The house still had all the original furniture and belongings from the family who had died there. There were intense cold spots in the living room and bloodstains still evident on the rug. Rats and field mice were everywhere. The moans grew louder and the cold spots colder. We got very scared and decided to investigate the barn where the young man had committed suicide. The barn was damp and smelled of rotting flesh. One of my friends was sickened by all of this. The rope he had used still hung from one of the cross beams. It swung like the body was still there, hanging dead. We saw an apparition, it was greenish in glow and stood on the loft above the beam. My best friend said aloud "We are not here to harm you, we only come to see and to leave everything as we found it". The apparition grew brighter and a sudden feeling of danger came over us. It was as if he hated our presence, so we left. We investigated the animal pens and found another house and an outhouse. They were barely standing and appeared to be impregnable. As we headed towards our cars we heard screams and footsteps. We began to run. The screams and pleas grew louder. I fell in the barn. As I arose I saw the ghost of a boy. He was crying and pointed to my car. "Go....Go.....Before my mommy sees you!" He said. Then the screams of a small boy "No mommy, please. I am not Jim (name changed), No mommy". I was truly saddened and frightened by this entire experience.
THE HOUSE CALLS TO ME
My Great Grandmere built her homestead about 20 miles south of town. She was a good business woman of her day. She passed away a long time ago. Her gravestone says 1928, but my Aunt remembers her clearly and my Aunt was born in 1929! She split her property up among her kids. They never did anything with the property and it was abandoned. The family cemetery is on the property and I went out there for the first time about 5 years ago. I wandered up to the house and the door was part way open. I felt the strongest urge to go inside even though the floor is not stable enough to support any kind of weight. I could almost hear the voice calling me inside. It was eerie. I continued looking around outside the house and came to the cellar door. I wanted to go down and check it out, but my cousin told me not to because there were probably rats and tarantulas down there in the dark. I went out there again a couple of years ago to bury my Uncle in the family cemetery; again I was compelled to go inside the house. The door swung open slightly as I was looking up the stairs into the house. It was really weird, like I was being invited in. I wonder if my Aunt actually met my Great grandmere, or if she saw a ghost. I haven't been back there since the burial, but I want to real bad, I just don't know why. The house is still in one piece, but certainly not livable.
THE NIGHT SHIFT
First, let me establish a few facts about myself: (1) I have a B.S. in Psychology - so human behavior, psychosis, and neurosis are not new or unknown to me. I have studied the sometimes bizarre side-effects of a mis-wired mind first hand. (2) I am an ex-law enforcement officer of many years, and am not prone to over exaggerating or scared-y-cat-syndrome. (3) I have a healthy respect for people’s beliefs in various unexplained phenomenon - but don’t put much weight in it myself.
Now these three facts being established… I work as a night-watchman in an older high rise building in a downtown area. Working at night gets lonely sometimes, and these old buildings make sounds that don’t always sound natural or normal. Being alone, these things sometimes feel disquieting and can seem, well...supernatural. However, as time passes you get used to hearing these things and come to an understanding with their peculiar moods. You also get to know what belongs and what doesn’t. The popping sounds as the air pressure changes in the building, the clank the side door makes when it’s windy, and those kinds of things.
Though this high-rise building is relatively new by most standards, it is rather old for this marvelous city (about thirty-six to be exact). The front desk (at which I spend much of the night) is situated so that I have full view of the front doors and camera systems, but my back is towards the lobby restrooms - where this story takes place. After several months, and after settling into the mood swings of this fine ol’ modern marvel of metal, some new sounds started. Abnormal sounds. These were not one of the old gal’s moods - it started with the sound of running water from the restrooms behind me.
Now being the night guy, I know who is in the building and where - by virtue of my position and the high-tech and elaborate camera system that is installed. With that being stated - I knew for a fact that I was the only one in the entire building of thirty-six floors - and there should not be anyone in the restrooms. Knowing this I thought perhaps it was simply a malfunction or mechanical failure, and so I set off to investigate and report the problem to the engineers in the morning. As I approached the restrooms I determined the water was running in the men’s room, but as I opened the door the water abruptly stopped.
The sudden lack of sound fairly startled me and I approached more cautiously, believing that perhaps someone had stayed late or some unknown person was going to pop out of one of the stalls and attack me; however, to my chagrin - the restroom was empty. I even reviewed the camera footage to confirm that nobody had stayed behind. Well chock that one up to weirdness and an overly excited imagination from reading horror novels in the middle of the wee hours.
However, the next week the same experience occurred. The water started running and did not stop until I opened the door. Not a soul to be found. I even had the engineers replace the faucet in question, but to no effect. I started asking my friend (the other night watchman) if he had any experiences with this as well and you know what? He has. He has worked here longer than I, and he too asked engineering to look into the problem. Just about every night the water runs and stops - this has become a fixture (no pun intended) of the night shift. Sometimes it will happen in the lady’s room too, but this is far less frequent.
One particular night we were both on duty for a special event. After a few hours at the desk my buddy decided he needed to use the restroom, and left me at the desk. I watched him go and a few minutes later heard the faucet start to run. Figuring he was simply doing the sanitary thing and washing his hands I thought nothing of it; however, when he came back out he was as white as a sheet. He told me that he had been urinating when the faucet turned itself on. Startled and disquieted by this he jokingly told the faucet, “knock it off,” and the faucet turned itself off. He doesn’t use that restroom anymore.
And to this day… The water keeps running. We know humorously refer to the incidents as Joe Bob, and whenever the faucets run we just yell out- “Knock it off Joe Bob!” and the water stops- for a little while at least.
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