When I was about 11 years old, and living in an Old Queenslander (Australian term for an old "traditional" house), I woke up in the late hours of the night. I was a little groggy, and I didn't know what woke me up.
Looking over to a corner of the room, diagonally in front of me, I made out a figure. It was wearing a long detective-style coat that covered its whole body, and a hat that was bent over its face. It looked like it was hunching, so I couldn't see its face, and only a triangle of darkness between the hat and closed coat.
I immediately was frightened by this figure, and hid my head under my pillow, as I felt too scared to call out. I stayed under my pillow for a couple of minutes, before deciding to look out directly to the right of my bed. The figure was there again, in a different spot, to the side of my bed.
I didn't feel menace, or an evil aura from it, but it still frightened me nonetheless, and I put my head under my pillow yet again. After a couple of minutes, I could feel some tension in the room, as if a collective breath was being held. I started to calm down, thinking that maybe I had imagined it and that I should go back to sleep.
That was when a hand roughly grabbed my thigh, and I froze. I could feel the hand on me, almost as if it was melting into my skin. Soon enough, I started to cry and call out to my mother in the next room. Nothing was found, and nothing similar has happened since.
Try tapping on one. Let us know how you feel about this article!