EVery night the same thing. The horses and chickens acting weird. The horses run and neigh wildly late at night,and my sheep seem so petrified that I cannot get near them anymore. I grabbed my shotgun and went out to investigate. Ever since we bought this house,I have been having strange sensations--sadness mixed with remorse,and the unfathomable dread which I cannot accredit to anything in particular. It`s starting to piss me off. The realtor said this was a good neighborhood,but obviously there are some youngsters prowling late at night and taking out their youthful aggressions on my livestock. It is 1:30 A.M. I hope it is just coyotes scattering my poor hens. I cannot find half of their eggs--they will not roost in the familiar places,and when I do find the eggs,they are broken or half rotten. What I do not understand are the 2 dogs,Mutt and Jeff. WHenever anybody comes to the house,they bark and growl like crazy. I had to post a "Beware of Dog" sign,because Jeff--the Aussie bitch- nips everybodys heels. I think she is trying to control the herd. But tonight she will not go outside. I worry that she will lose her bowels in the house,and I tried to knee her out the door,but she is splaying out her legs and holding onto the doorframe--so I just gave up. "QUit being such a pussy",I tell her in disgust. 3 nights ago my girlfriend heard a lot of banging and carrying on outside. I don`t want to hurt the kids,so I took the shot out of the shells,and reloaded them with the rock salt we use to thaw out the ice on our front doorstep. I thought the noises were coming from my haybarn,but apparently I did not get there soon enough. When I walked into the barn,the old boxes which were laying atop the rafters were scattered all over the floor in the holding area. Cursing,I put then all back into place. Last night my bay mare kicked apart a section of the corral,and I had to chase her down-rattling a bucket of oats to lure her to me. It took 3 hours and I was exhausted from the chase. Earlier today,the realtor called to ask how we were making out in the new home,and I told him about all the ruckus we have had since living here. I also told him about the bluish light I seen in the barn last week,and how I have had to pick up all the boxes on the barn holding area floor. I then asked him why the previous tenants left so much junk here. He told me that several years ago,the farmer who lived here caught his wife in bed with another man,and hung himself in the barn. Much of their belongings were not removed from the barn area,because the wife left with the pool hustler from Gig Harbor,and was never seen again. I decided not to tell my girlfriend,because I did not want to freak her out. So,today I have tied cowbells on the barn door,and laid flour on the entranceway to the barn. I am waiting by the door with the Mossburg 12 gauge in my hands. Of course nothing happens,so I go back to the house,undress,and when I go to get in bed with my girlfriend she screams at me. I ask her if she has had a bad dream,and she is only half asleep when she says no. I climb into bed. I lay there,slowly falling into sleep oblivion,when I hear the slamming and banging of things from the barn. I look up at the clock. It is 1:30 A.M. My girlfriend has woken up and hears the noises too. She says to me,"Don`t go out there,Blaine". I say,"Hell with that-I am going to catch those little fuckers this time". I rush out in my underwear. I swear I just seen that bluish light again through the cracks in the doorframe of the barn. I look for the thread I tied to the doorway. I cannot see it so I go back to the house for a flashlight. I come back to the barn,and see that my thread is still there,and there is no sign of disturbance in the flour I poured on the ground in front of the door. There are no other doors,and no windows. I break the thread and walk in the barn. Boxes and wooden cases,and various junk is strewn all over the place. I am getting the creeps,and decide not to clean up tonight. WHen I go back in the house,my girlfriend is crying. I ask her why,and she will not tell me. After the slamming and banging has gone on for months,and I have picked up all the debris numerous times,I know my barn is haunted,and this also explains why the animals all go berserk every night at 1:30 A.M. Years go by--I leave this house,and break up with the girlfriend. We are still friends,and sitting around on Halloween week--drinking beer and telling ghost stories. One of her friends says,"Tell Blaine your story!" SHe looks embarassed,and I push her for information,thinking she has a scare in the cornfield. She tells me."Well,that night you came back from the barn,I thought you threw a shirt at me while I was sitting up in bed. The closer the shirt became,the more I realized that it was not a shirt at all. It was an old man,who was on his knees as if praying,who wore a broken rope around his neck." I knew instantly that the man had broken the rope,and fallen to his knees in a praying posture. I then told her about the barn,the bluish light,the threads which went unbroken,and the story the realtor had told me. A true story! Happy Halloween!!! Blaine
Years ago, while married, I stayed up late one winter night, to watch a movie. My wife had gone to bed. When the movie was over I shut off the television and using only the light from outside streetlights, so as not to wake my wife, I approached the open bedroom door. It seemed my effort was for naught as she seemd to silently exit the bedroom and head for the kitchen for what I presumed was a glass of water. I walked not two feet behind her as she remained silent, which was typical behavior. I noticed her long nightgown sweep along the floor, but her hair seemed to be put pinned up on her head in a way I had never seen before.
This was an old house and the kitchen only had a single light switch which was located well within the kitchen near another door that was always kept latched in the winter. It was common for one of us to go into the kitchen and switch on the light - while the other paused (to avoid tripping on the first person) for a moment outside.
She walked through the kitchen door first as I took a pause, waiting for the litchen light to be turned on. It never came on. After a minute I went in to investigate and found the kitchen quite empty of anyone else. The other door remained latched with a hook.
I went back to the bedroom and discovered my wife was quite asleep in the bed, and later, when I asked her about the incident, she knew nothing of it.
We didn't own the house, we rented the upper flat. The house was owned by an elderly couple who lived downstairs. When I told them of the incident, they told me that the house had originally been built by a local butcher who's mother lived and eventually died in our flat.
They recalled that she wore long gowns that touched the floor, and in the picture they showed me, she wore her hair pinned up in the unusual way that I had seen that night.
We ruled out every other possible explanation. I believe she came back for a visit.