When I was about 9 my parents had our house fumigated for termites. Since we had to stay out for a few days we got some clothes and rented a room in a motel on the edge of town. It was a two bed room, and my brother and I had one bed and my mom and dad had another.
It was summer, so our parents just dropped us off at our friend’s house during the day, then pick us up at night and we’d sleep in the motel. So the first night, right before I fall asleep, the bed shakes a few times. I think its my brother, so I kick him and tell him to knock it off. It happens a few more times and I keep telling my brother to knock it off, and he keeps saying that he isn’t doing anything.
So anyways, my parents drop us off to play again the next day, we come back, and its the same thing, every 30 minutes or so the bed shakes. The next morning I complain to my dad about the shaking, and to prove to me that there isn’t any monsters or anything he lifts the mattress up off of the box spring, and there’s a lady tied up with multiple stab wounds.
According to the coroner, she had died that night.