My boyfriend was in the army before I met him, this is by far the creepiest story he’s told me. It gave me goosebumps.
He lived in a two story townhouse (on-base housing) in Ft. Hood for about six months. Tenants always came and went because of deployments. Weird stuff would happen both at night and during the day; mainly thuds in his bedroom on the second floor and shuffling. He felt uneasy being in his room so he always slept on the living room couch on the first floor.
On the weekends he would be up late playing Xbox Live, being the achievement hunter he is and due to insomnia. he wouldn’t fall asleep until 5AM.
One night, he was up late on his Xbox dashboard, sitting on a sofa chair, smoking a cigarette. His Kinect was plugged in. As many of you know, there’s a screen on the bottom right corner that shows an infrared version of what the Kinect camera can see. This lets you know what its detecting. It’s really sensitive and although at times frustrating to use, surprisingly accurate.
This was when the hair behind his neck stood up. He noticed the infrared screen. Standing to the right of him, alongside him, was a solid female figure.
He wanted me to add that he has never EVER used his Kinect after this. Even after moving back home to Chicago. I can attest to that. Haha
My grandmother once lived in an old, three story house. It was set in the woods and slightly run down. It needed new paint, some of the floorboards would creak and the doorways were no longer straight from where the house had settled over the years.
The house itself always gave me a slightly uneasy feeling. However, I have an over-active imagination and at the time of this event I was heavily into my Stephen King horror phase (I was about ten).
The third floor of the house contained three bedrooms. One bedroom belonged to my aunt Beth, who was eight years older than me and wanted very little to do with my brother or myself. Since we stayed at Granny’s during the day while Mom and Dad worked, I think it was a jealousy thing. Beth was my Mom’s youngest sister and the baby of the family, while I was the first grandchild.
About three months after they moved into this house, Beth started complaining about noises coming from the walls in her room that kept her up at night. Granny and Papaw dismissed her complaints, but when my other aunt who lived there began to echo her concerns, they decided to investigate.
I was there when Granny took Beth upstairs and began searching her room, just to prove there was nothing there. The rat traps they’d sat hadn’t worked and they owned three cats, so mice were not likely the culprit. Anyway, while moving a big dresser away from the wall, they discovered a piece of plywood nailed to the wall. It wasn’t even painted. (I should mention the dresser had come with the house, as had a lot of the furniture). Granny, being Granny, immediately took a hammer and crowbar and tore off the plywood.
Behind it was a small door.
I’m not kidding when I say small. It was about three feet high and narrow. An adult man would have to really squeeze to get in there. The door was locked but Granny got it open anyhow.
Inside was a little hallway, very dusty, that opened into a tiny room. I could walk in the hallway if I hunkered over. An adult would have to crawl, and could only sit in the little room.
There was a small chair, doll sized, in that room. Nothing else. The walls had been covered in wallpaper that was now very yellowed with age. Dust and cobwebs everywhere, I sneezed for days after this little adventure.
What we finally noticed, and what still haunts me to this day, was the fresh looking scratches on the walls of the tiny room and the little hallway. Nt scratches, really…more like gouges in the wall. These gouges were in groups of three, as if whatever clawed hand responsible had only three fingers.
There was no dust in the gouges. They looked fresh.
We backtracked out of that little room, not saying a word. Granny nailed the plywood back in place and moved the dresser back against the wall. And that was that.
Two night later Beth moved into her sister’s room and they kept that room locked until they moved out a year later.
The house was eventually abandoned. I went back with a group of my friends in high school to show them the little room, but the stairs were in really bad shape and rotten. The house was torn down not long after.