Submitting my first story, "Was I Losing My Mind?" was something of a cathartic experience for me. It felt good to tell it to somebody, and it felt good to get reassurance back from everybody out there. Thanks again!
I would like to tell another experience that happened at about the same time as my first story, about July, 2007. We had just moved to Utah from Boise, ID, and we were renting a house in Roy, UT. During this time, my wife and I were really trying to decide what to do: should we purchase a house in Utah's inflated real estate market and just work full-time, or should we move down to Provo to rent and to finish my PhD while working part-time?
As we were looking at homes for sale in the city of Clearfield, we kept our eyes on a house that had been listed for a long time and was in our price range. This was a huge rarity because the Utah real estate market was RED HOT at this time, and homes that were $220K or less were usually on the market for less than a day. We convinced ourselves that something must be wrong with the house, and decided to ignore it. However, as we became more desperate in our search during the next couple of weeks, we decided to give the home a look.
We called the home owner, who was living in Arizona, and she seemed totally relieved that we wanted to look at the house. She told us where the spare key was hidden, and that we could go have a look at any time. My wife and I drove over to the house that afternoon, and we honestly couldn't figure out what was wrong with it! From the exterior, the house looked really good, and it was in a nice location. We found the spare key, and we went inside.
The owner had obviously spent a lot of money to upgrade the house. It looked very nice. It was probably about 15-20 years old, and had new everything on the inside. We went downstairs to the basement to check it out, and it was roomy and clean. However, we noticed a small door tucked away in a corner, and wanted to know what was behind it. We opened it up, and it was a very long and dark concrete-lined storage room or cellar.
That's when it all started. The second I opened that door, I felt anxious and threatened for some reason, and I didn't know why. Shaking off my emotions, I closed the door and just said to my wife, "Wow...it's a big food-storage room. Isn't that cool!" My wife nodded her head in agreement, but I noticed that her excitement about the house had suddenly vanished. We continued touring the rest of the house, but I couldn't shake this unsettling feeling that something didn't want us in that house anymore.
My wife and I finished touring the upstairs, and we met in the hallway to discuss what we thought. Logically, we couldn't find any reason why we didn't like the house, and we started talking about things like which room would go to which kid, and where we would put our furniture. In the middle of this conversation, it hit like a freight train! My wife suddenly started wretching, and had to run to the bathroom (...fortunately, the bathroom was just right there.) I was shocked by the sudden display of nausea on her part, but not half as shocked as I was when I looked in the mirror right then. My nose was gushing blood! This totally freaked me out, especially because I never get nose bleeds. Ever.
A really dark and foreboding feeling was on top of us at that point, and we literally RAN from the house. We were disoriented, and we just went looking for the nearest door we could find. That door led to the backyard. In the backyard, I noticed a sloppy paint job on the backyard fence that was poorly trying to hide large satanic-looking symbols on the fence. That was enough for us. We hopped into the car, and took off.
On the way home, we talked about our experience. I was shocked when I heard my wife say, "When you opened that door to the food-storage room, I just started to feel depressed or something. And it just went downhill from there!" I told her that I also started to feel anxious when I opened that door.
We never gave that house a second thought. Whatever was in it was pure EVIL, and there was no way that we were going to take our children into that environment. However, I can't help but wonder what happened in that storage room to create such a malevolent presence. I probably wouldn't want to know.
On a lighter note, I hope that evil ghosts know how to flush a toilet. My wife and I were in such a panic to get out of there, which we didn't even think to clean up the mess. Whoops! Oh well... It was the ghost's fault!