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The Bad Man In The Basement


I suppose I should give the readers some insight into this. I will be constructing a series of the paranormal events that have taken place throughout my life. This is the first of them. These stories take place in various areas in Denmark and the United States. The stories that take place in Denmark, such as this one, will be about my experiences from since I was two to ten. Now, the story will begin. Keep in mind that this is a hand-me-down tale, and the only thing that I remember from this is the appearance of the entity and his mannerisms.

When I was younger, I had a wonderful imagination. I could take circles and turn them into balloons. I could take a string of yarn and turn it into a rabbit. But my imagination would not be the cause for the experience that I am about to share with you. Before I was born, my great grandparents had passed away, along with numerous other relatives, and when I was younger, I had no idea who these people had been in life. I can only give you a time period of 1998 to maybe 1999, so I was around two or three. We lived in a house that was a bit out of the way of everything else, but still close enough to town to be considered a part of Copenhagen.

I wasn't afraid of much during this time period, and the only thing that sent me running was The Bad Man. He appeared to me as a gruff, fisherman type. He wore a yellow rain slicker and a pair of back rubber boots. He had tan, leathery skin and had a plethora of scars on his hands and back. His hair was thick and black and he had a quite extraordinary beard. He wore a hat that matched his rain slicker and always had a cigar that he would smoke. Whenever I smelt the smoke, I would instantly begin to cry out or chant frantically, "Bad Man! Bad Man!" All while trembling, staring at a space in the basement where he inhabited, and pointing.

My mother was perplexed by all of this and one day, while my mother was talking with her cousin in one of the rooms of the bisected basement, I came bursting out of the other room screaming my little chant of 'Bad Man'. My mother and cousin looked at each other, my mother scooped me up, and they ran up the stairs. At some point, I remembered what scared me about the Bad Man and told my mother that he had laughed at me and attempted to put the cigar out on my flesh. He didn't get the chance, but I knew that he would have done so if he could.

Another point in time, my mother got a boyfriend three years after my father had been killed by a police officer whom was under the impression that he had a weapon on him. Her boyfriend, whom is now my stepfather, said that watching me peek back and forth to look at something only to scream and take off running was particularly unsettling. At some point, we moved from the house when I was five, and I haven't seen the Bad Man since.

To this day, it is still unclear to me on whether or not he was a deceased relative, a spirit, or a demonic entity.

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Comments about this paranormal experience

The following comments are submitted by users of this site and are not official positions by Please read our guidelines and the previous posts before posting. The author, Stoker, has the following expectation about your feedback: I will read the comments and participate in the discussion.

babygoatpuller (4 stories) (432 posts)
9 years ago (2015-08-19)
Great narration Stoker and welcome to YGS. I was going to ask the same thing Lady-glow asked but you cleared that up nicely.

I'm thinking maybe this was a former resident. Could he have been a fisherman? For some reason the yellow slicker and hat has me thinking of the guy on the Gorten's Fisherman frozen food package. 😆

I doubt he would have actually burned you but he rather enjoyed the fear he instilled in you. Just my two cents worth.

Looking forward to reading more from you. Thanks for sharing!
Stoker (2 stories) (2 posts)
9 years ago (2015-08-18)

But I might have missed an album and it could be a relative, but I highly doubt it since I have looked through them countless times. I know it wasn't a living relative if it was, in fact, a relative.
Stoker (2 stories) (2 posts)
9 years ago (2015-08-18)

I'm actually very sorry about that. I believe I meant "face", but my phone must have autocorrected me or it could have been an instance where I made a mistake. I probably would have died if he removed his slicker. His face (the portion I could see) was heavily scarred.

Also, since I have moved, I might not be able to research the house locally, but my parents or aunt and uncle might be able to provide me with a little insight.

Oh no. It couldn't have been a relative. I am in possession of the old photo albums and some of the pictures are yellowed or frayed or even black and white. But there is no relatives that are pictured that even closely resembles the man. I might have chalked it up to my imagination if it weren't for me going through life and having many more experiences.

Thank you so much. More is on the way. 😁

lady-glow (16 stories) (3158 posts)
9 years ago (2015-08-17)
Stoker: welcome to YGS.
I have a question about your story, when you say "...He had tan, leathery skin and had a plethora of scars on his hands and back..."
Do you mean the entity used to undress/take his rain slicker off? 😲

Is there a way you could research the history of that house? Do you know if your family has any photo albums in which to look if any of your relatives resembles the "bad man"?

I would think a relative would be that mean to a little kid, but you never know.

Looking forward to read more of your experiences.

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