18 church street.
This house was built in 1928. It was one level with a basement and attic. We moved into the house on my 9th birthday exactly, June 26th 2001. Upon entering the house, you could feel energy. Not dark energy, but it felt like there was a bunch of people in the house and they were having a party that you couldn't see.
There was no furniture except for my mattress that we put in my bedroom next to the kitchen. It was the farthest room from anything in the house. I remember when we first looked at the house, this had been the husbands study and I recall looking into his dresser and seeing his underwear. It was a funny thing when I was 9.
I slept in that room with the ugly blue wallpaper that was lined with some floral and lace pattern. There was wood paneling on the lower half of the walls. Two windows that seemed ancient and wondered if I could even open, but with some prying it unlatched. The glass was real glass. Not the manufactured stuff in the windows today.
And the screen was held on by metal latches, as was our front door screen. I liked the old feel to the house. It really had character.
My floors were wooden and had an old blue tasseled rug with more floral pattern. As small as it was, I loved it. The windows let in a magnificent amount of light. And from one window, I could see the backyard of this huge mansion in town. The Ambrosio mansion was built in 1873, always going from owner to owner.
I've been in there a few times and its absolutely beautiful. Next door to the mansion was a church that I could also see into the backyard. And on early Sunday mornings I would always wake to the sounds of church bells. I was never a religious person but it was kind of a peaceful way to wake up.
Attached to my bedroom was the kitchen. And in the kitchen was the door to the basement. There were three steps down to a landing, then there was the back door to the left and to the right were six more steps. Down there was the laundry machines, the boiler, and oil tank. I never once have felt comfortable down there.
I used to have my own “play room” but between the bugs and the way you were always being watched every moment down there, I couldn't stand it. Even until the age of 18 when I finally moved out, I never once spent more than 20 seconds down there.
I always refused to get the holiday decorations alone. I mean, nothing ever happened down there but it always felt like something was about to. But it wasn't until I was 19 that I learned what exactly went on in that basement prior to moving there.
The couple that lived in the house before us were the Leary’s. They were a very old couple. The wife had been kept in the basement because she was senile. There were even bars on the windows (which are still there to this day). How anyone could live down there is beyond me. There was no real flooring, no ceiling, and brick walls. It was freezing.
The couple had both died inside of the house.
As a 9 year old my parents obviously didn't tell me these things so the feelings I was having were true. My room, being in the back of the entire house, was very quiet. At night, I would have to leave my TV on just to have some background noise.
The only things I would hear besides that was the boiler kicking on and always creaking in the house. I knew at that age it was probably just because the house was old.
There was never a sighting or any happenings up until I was a teenager. My family wasn't close, at all. My parents fought constantly which led to mental and physical abuse displaced to me. I don’t know if our negative emotions and actions are what made this presence angrier or more malevolent but the more I think about it now, it seems logical.
The very first experience I had was when I was 13 or 14. After school I was home alone for 2 hours. I would watch TV or dance around to music. I distinctly remember sitting on the couch watching nickelodeon and eating ice cream. I was sitting all the way to the left, resting on the arm when I heard a burp come from the right cushion next to me.
It took me a few seconds to realize I was home alone and freaked out. I stared at the cushion for minutes. Nothing moved or made a noise, I just waited. And the only thing I could think to say was, “excuse you”.
When my dad came home I told him what had happened and he said “Don’t tell people things like that, they’ll think you’re crazy”. Other occurrences that were frequent were the orbs. You'd see them dancing when you’d turn all the lights off in the house. In pictures from birthdays you could see them clear as day surrounding me. Never anyone else, just me.
When I got older, about 15 or 16, I got braver and decided to leave recording devices around the house and I would say “If you have anything to ask or say, say it right here into the speaker.” Many times I've looked at the recording and seen sound waves where it should be silent. I've never had the courage to listen. I wish I had saved those.
The first experience I've had with the attic really shook me. While cleaning the house one spring, my mom found a box of really old books. One of them was about nutrition. It was small and blue. In the back cover was a map of this house we lived in, obviously drawn by a child.
In our living room there was a fireplace. The map showed a string starting from the attic above the fire place going down inside the wall to the bottom of the fireplace and it was attached to a box. Immediately I showed my dad who got as excited as I was. I imagined there were baseball cards, toys, maybe gum. What else would a child put in this box.
We dropped down the attic stairs and the feeling up there was pure dread. Evil. Not good. I hated it. I felt my skin trying to crawl off of me and hide. I was with my dad so I figured nothing bad would happen. We went over to the spot where the fireplace would be below us and there was a string. I’m not kidding.
We pulled the string slowly but we couldn't tell if something was on the other end. The string ended up breaking because of how old it was. We shined a flashlight down the wall and couldn't really see anything.
We always planned to bust a hole in the wall one day behind the fireplace but after my parents divorced, it was all forgotten.
We've found countless things in the house that were creepy and interesting. There was an old phone bill half eaten by moths that was for $0.29, a cannon ball we found while digging up the front yard for our deck. It actually held gunpowder. When tearing down the walls in my parents room we found tin toys standing on the wooden beams.
We renovated the house to be as up to date as possible. I feel that probably angered who or what was in there as well. The last experience I had and by far the scariest, was when I was 18. In my bedroom the foot of my bed lined up with the arch of my doorway. Someone could easily reach around and grab my foot from the kitchen.
To the right of my feet was the closet door. I always kept that closet door closed when I slept. It made me uncomfortable to keep it open, like I was being watched. One night I had a terrifying dream about my room.
I was laying on my back staring at the closet. The door opened and a stone beast stood there with a sword. It looked like a buffalo standing on two feet with red eyes and horns. It was something straight out of a demonic movie. It had the strange smell that I have luckily never smelled before or since. It came toward me, floating, and put its sword into my stomach.
I sat straight up, awake. It was daytime and my closet door was wide open. My dad was still asleep (my mom had moved out at this point). I knew I had to take care of whatever this was.
My friend came over that day with sage. My dad went out fishing with his friend.
We decided to start in the basement and work toward the attic, then do all corners of my yard. The basement wasn't a problem. We reached all corners and moved on to the main level. Also a breeze. We felt energy but didn't know whether it was good or bad. Just felt alive.
Then we reached the attic. Before we even let down the steps to the attic, we heard it. These loud, heavy hooves run across the ceiling. They were definitely not feet. It was the distinct sound of hooves on wood, running from the opening of the attic all the way to the right above the fireplace. Thinking about it now makes me nauseous and dizzy.
My friend and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes. We had to go up there, and we did. The only thing up there was a dresser. We lit the sage and stood in the middle. The attic was cathedral ceilings with one tiny window. Barely any light.
You couldn't see into the corners and I knew that’s where this thing was hiding. I feel sick thinking about what could have been there. We left lit sage on the dresser and finished the house and yard.
The house did feel lighter. I moved out the next day.
The only reason I know that we successfully removed the entity from that house, is because it followed me to my next residence.
Story Credit: Kaylynn, New Jersey.