There’s Something In The Attic

May 9, 2011

This story isn’t from me but a psychology professor who was the local “ghost buster.” He’d investigate paranormal claims and help people “get rid of the ghosts” (which were usually easily identified as an overactive imagination or other simple explanations). He had a few great stories, but this one is my favorite.

One day, several years ago now, he got a call from a couple living in an old farmhouse outside the big city. They didn’t want to bother him–they didn’t mind the strange little things–but once the horrifying specter appeared, they decided it was time to get some help.

So one fall evening a few days later, he drove up to the century old farm house, bringing his basic tool kit: a notebook and tape recorder. Invited into the kitchen, he sat down, turned on his tape recorder to keep a record of everything, and heard the couple’s story. They were both visibly frightened, but the wife began; the husband seemed lost for words.

“There’s something in the attic. An evil spirit. It doesn’t want us here” she started. Well, the professor had heard this many times before. Being polite, he asked “Why do you say that?” “Because nothing works in the attic. Everything goes a bit crazy. And you feel very weird, scared, like something is watching you. And we hear noises, like something running around, though not any usual creature, more like a man. But last week, my husband went up to grab something and saw its face in the little window. I’ve never seen him so scared! He nearly had a heart attack! That’s when we decided to call you.”

The professor looked at the quiet husband, who seemed to have turned very pale in the last few minutes, clearly still terrified by his experience. Nothing out of the ordinary, he figured. Just people’s imaginations. After asking a few more simple questions to get the basic details, he asked to be shown the place where the horrifying figure had appeared. Very reluctantly, the husband led the professor to the attic stairs.

The professor brought along the tape recorder, keeping a running dialogue. “Okay, so we’re heading up the stairs now into the attic. Half way up, almost there… now we’re inside.”

The husband pointed to the window where the terrifying figure had appeared–“It looked almost like a werewolf. …the most evil face I have ever seen.” The professor looked to see what might have caused a reflection but found nothing. And with the snow that had fallen just before the incident, it was clear nothing had wandered outside the window either. So he headed back down stairs. “And now we’re coming back out of the attic. …halfway down, and we’re out.”

He left the couple an extra tape recorder to capture the noises in the attic, asking them to hold it up near the ceiling whenever they heard them. About a week went by and he hadn’t heard from them so he called to ask how things were. Had they not heard any more noises? “No, it’s happened several times. We checked the tape to make sure it got them okay, but it was always static. The recorder never worked, though it worked fine if we just talked to it.” Intrigued, he pulled out his own recording. It worked fine: the conversation in the kitchen, “we’re heading up the stairs. Half way up” –then several minutes of silence passed. “…and we’re out of the attic again.” His didn’t work either, but only in the attic.

He knew it was very unlikely for two tape recorders, that were working perfectly, to both stop working only when near the attic. So he called back to set up a time to return to the house and investigate further.

On the day he was to go back and visit again, this time with more sophisticated equipment, he called to check that the time was still good, but the phone promptly replied “this line is not in service.” Confused, he drove out at the appointed time only to find a smoldering ruin. He managed to track down the couple a week later and asked what had happened. The wife replied succinctly, “it didn’t want us there anymore. It knew what we were doing, and the day before you were coming back we were out running errands, and when we came back, the house was half burned down. They say it started in the attic.”

True story.

– Posted by Peit; Fark


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