The only other things to happen in this house have been small stuff. My Grandma often told me about shadows she saw in the hallway of the house. The hall is tiny and the only one in the house, but I see the shadows too. So does my wife, and the dogs often look that way from time to time. It always looks as if someone had just walked by the door to the living room, which is impossible, really, because as I said, the hallway is tiny.
Another thing that has been happening here is, I’m seeing ghost dogs. We have two dogs, Angus, a black lab, and Redd, a min-pin. I got Angus while I was living here with my Grandmother and she loved that dog more than anybody or anything else. Including me. He was her baby. Right before she died, it tore her up knowing she’d never see him again.
After she died I moved out with my wife who was then my girlfriend, and we acquired another dog, Redd. We moved back into the house 8 months later, bringing both dogs with us. Angus was home, and Redd was in his new home. I know if my Grandmother had met Redd, she would have loved him just as much as Angus.
When we first moved back in, the main part of the house was being worked on, so we stayed in the back where I had lived for so long. We were trying to keep the door shut that went to the main part of the house so the dogs wouldn’t go up there and get dirty.
One of the first nights back, I was standing in the back kitchen heading to the door to close it when my wife started talking to me. I turned to face her, looking away from the door, and I watched Redd walk past her and me and into the kitchen. I turned around to stop him from going upstairs (the main part of the house is considered the upstairs, but only three steps separate the two levels). Once you get upstairs you’re in what we use as an office and that leads into the tiny hallway and the rest of the house. I could see the back end of Redd walking through the office and turning into the hallway, then I didn’t see him anymore. I called out to him to get him back with us so I could shut the door and I heard some clicking. I turned to look and saw him standing behind me, in the kitchen, nails clicking on the floor. What did I see in the office that looked just like him? I have no idea, but that wasn’t the only time I saw it.
Since there’s really only two things left to tell about this house for now, I’ll include them here. The first has to deal with my Grandfather’s first wife whom he was with when he built the house. She was a little nuts, from what I understand, and eventually she found herself addicted to drugs. I don’t know what kind, but she would sometimes leave the house and walk down the street to acquire these drugs while in her night gown.
One thing that she did while she was alive was, she joined a church down the road from the house. It turned out the church was one that was affiliated with Jim Jones and the Jonestown people. She believed in what they were doing and was funding the efforts via my Grandfather’s bank account. Overall he lost thousands to this church before he figured out what was going on and stopped it. But to my understanding, she allowed them to use this house as a meeting place for what eventually turned out to be the Jonestown incident. And their meeting place was the room in the back of the house where I had lived for so many years and is now my bedroom. Creepy. My Grandfather had forced her to leave the church right before she was to leave with them on their trip.
The other thing is really creepy as well, at least for me. When I was first living here, I had heard you could buy a copy of the Necronomicon at any book store, so I went out and got myself a copy. Being a huge fan of the Evil Dead series, I thought it would be cool to have the book and read it.
That night I laid in bed and decided to give it a try. I cracked it open and read the into to the book, started getting sleepy and decided to just leave it at that and start to read the book itself the next day. I laid the open book down on the bed to keep my place and I got up to find a book mark. As I started to walk away from the bed, something shoved me from behind. It actually felt as if someone punched me in my back rather hard, although I got more of a shove from it than a pain, even though there was a pain. It hit me so hard that I emitted an “Unh” that was more like a scream because of how it took me by surprise. When I turned around, shocked and scared that someone was about to jump me, nothing was there, except for the book. The shot I took came from the direction of the book.
I found a book mark and placed it in the book and set it off to the side. I turned a funny movie on (Dazed and Confused) and tried to watch it to get my mind off of what had just happened. The entire time I was watching the movie I could hear a heavy breathing coming from the kitchen. That was the only time I had ever heard that noise in this house. The following day I sold the book to a friend of mine who wanted to read it and I got it the hell out of this house. I never had either of those experiences again.