One day while doing my laundry one of the lights blew out in my basement. My basement is set up so that the laundry room is split from the other side of the basement with a wall and a door. In order to get upstairs you have to exit the laundry room and go through the other part of the basement.
So the light blew in the other part, not the laundry room. As it was the only light on that side, it was pretty fucking dark. I finished the laundry I had to do while dreading the walk through the dark basement. I exit the laundry room, get half way through the basement, and I hear a loud cackle. Imagine a sound people make when they imitate a witch. Take that and imagine that the witch had been smoking for 50 years, making her voice deeper and hoarser. That is what I heard, clear as day, right behind me.
I did not look hesitate to bolt for the stairs. I waited until my father got home and then changed the bulb. I have yet to hear that cackle since, and I have not told a single person in the house about it.