I feel like one side of my family is ‘cursed’ to have to deal with ghosts and demons. This is all 100% true, but a lot may sound made up. I promise they are not. I feel like I’m late to the party and this will be buried. I’ll start as far back as I know. My great grandmother’s sister was born with a veil of skin over her face. It is believed by many that people born with veils over their face can see the future. One day my great grandmother and her were walking down the road. This was in a rural West Virginia town, so they were fairly alone. The sister tells my great grandmother, “Hester, that man on the horse is coming. He’s going to get us,” my great grandmother flips out, and they run home. That night they hear the galloping of a horse up and down their street.
Up until I was 6, our house was horribly haunted. Dangerously so at times. Eventually a ‘priest’ came in and blessed the house and sealed all our portals to stop the spirits from coming through.
We used to have this painting on our wall. It was a cabin with a path leading down from it. If you stayed up late you could see people walking down the path. We eventually got rid of it.
We had another painting. I hated this fucking painting. My mom hated this fucking painting. Everybody hated this fucking painting except for my dad. He found it in a dumpster at work and decided it would look nice on our wall. It was this old cabin with a large evil looking tree next to it. Just looking at it would creep the fuck out of everyone. Even thinking about it I’m getting chills. Seriously fuck that painting and whoever painted it. We were going to throw it away but my cousin wanted it. They took it and they started hearing things in their house. My cousin burned it and the noises stopped.
We recently moved from the formerly haunted house, and I always felt like I was being watched, as did everyone else in the house. We used to all see shadows dancing on the edges of our vision and everything. Sometimes while walking up the stairs I knew something was behind me. I just knew. Sometimes my legs would lock up from the fear and I’d have to call my mom the help me. How I ever slept in the basement of that fucking place I’ll never know.
This is one of the ones you might not be inclined to believe, but I promise this happened. My dad witnessed it and I saw the aftermath. One night my brother screams, “Wake the fuck up! I just saw Mary in the kitchen.” Mary was the real mother of my adopted sister. She died unexpectedly and her real dad went to prison. He had saw her going from the sink to the basement door. My dad and my brother go down there. I shit you not my brother was picked up and thrown across the basement over a workout bench. My dad and brother ran upstairs. My brother yells, “Wake the hell up! Something in this fucking house is trying to fucking kill me!” Everyone wakes up and we all move our beds to the living room so we could sleep together. My at the ripe old age of 5 sat on my mother’s lap while she helped my brother stop the bleeding. He had deep, nasty scratches all down his chest and stomach, and a few on his face. Scratches that could only be caused by human nails. He’s still got the scars, but most are hidden under his tats, but that’s another story. We stayed because my whole family is super stubborn and it was 4 in the morning. For a month straight everyone slept together in the living room.
Now onto the ones that I’ve only been told about or don’t remember.
We had a pool table in our basement for a while. You could see and hear the pool balls flying back and forth like the bastards were having a game.
Before we had any pets my mom heard a deep, guttural growl in the laundry room while doing laundry. Now this one could have been an animal, but that was a pretty loud growl according to my mom. Because of this that’s not very comforting.
Now this next one has to do with people I’ve never even met. My mom saw it happen though, and I trust her totally. I fully expect you to all call this bullshit, and I’m okay with that. It happened and it’s true.
My mom’s now dead cousin fought a demon or the devil. According to him it was the devil. He had always been a deeply religious man, but in the years leading up to this he had struggled with drug addictions. One day he’s down in his basement, and his dad and mom hear him screaming and a bunch of loud crashed. They run downstairs and the cousin is being whipped back and forth, sometimes being thrown into walls. Being lifted into the air and all. They try to hold him down, but he yells, “No, you’ve got to let me do this. If you don’t he’s going to win and take me.” So for the next twelve hours or so they watch their son fight the devil. They say that they could feel his presence. That it was deeply inhuman and wrong. They called a few members of their church and family and they all stand down there praying for him. After a while it just stops. Somehow he resisted the devil and won. He had to go the hospital and everything obviously.