We’ve recently moved into what we consider our dream home. 4 bedrooms, 2 baths with a massive yard for the kids.
The kitchen is wide open with a dining nook which is great because we use the dining room as a playroom for our kids.
We have 3 kids, a 10 year old and twin 5 year olds. They are the wife and Is world.
Purchasing this house was for them really. We knew as the twins got older they would want separate rooms, and the large expansive yard was a huge selling point. Everyone has loved the house and everything about it….except George.
See there is something odd about this house. While it’s solid brick build, and open concept made it a hot commodity, the odd disclaimer about the bonus room attic….turned people away.
The listing for the house included something odd….”while the bonus room above the garage has its own AC unit, and bathroom, the attic resident, George, likes it cold.”
We initially thought this some odd flavor text, George being the previous owner and just enjoying a nice cold room. We ignored the text, set up a viewing and fell in love.
As we were shown around the first floor and imagined our life in this house, my wife made mention of the “joke.”
She asked the realtor why the old owner liked it cold. The realtor looked at us oddly, and with a chuckle said “oh George isn’t the old owner, he’s just the attic ghost”
Being the skeptics we are, the wife and I laughed it off and honestly put it out of our heads.
Two weeks into our move, George was very real. We didn’t use the upstairs much. It was a bonus room above the garage, we set it up as a spare room for family visits. There was a bathroom attached for the room, and a small door within the bathroom that opened to a walk in attic. Of course we had been in the attic, we looked at it when viewing the home. The space was perfect for storing old junk and decorations that we just couldn’t bring ourselves to get rid of.
Within our first week we setup the bonus room, stored stuff in the attic, and my wife even decorated the bathroom with a log cabin aesthetic. With that, we were done with the bonus room, after all it was just for visitors really.
Now I was raised being told “turn off the light when you’re not in the room!” “Don’t leave fans on!”” Why is the window open, the AC is running?!”
I was drilled to save on electricity. This carried over to my adult life.
With no one using the upstairs I cranked up the AC upstairs to 78, no sense in running it when it’s not being used right?
2 am the wailing began. I was shocked awake by a screeching wail, my wife jolting up thinking it was the kids. Their rooms were on the other side of the house, and both rooms ran sound machines with white noise (we had used it with them since birth and it really helped drown out excess noise). My wife ran to their rooms, but all 3 were still soundly sleeping.
As we made it to the far side of the house, I realized the wailing was coming from the other side…..upstairs. I made my way over to the stairs, motioning my wife to stay down at the bottom. As I made my way up to the spare room the wailing was almost unbearable. Covering my ears I pushed open the door and saw a grey figure seated on the bed. Before the shock could set in, the figure charged at me screeching into my face “keeeeep it coldddddddd” and forced me back against the wall. The wailing continued for a min with the strange figure pressing me into the wall, before it just evaporated and I slumped to the floor.
My wife came bursting in the room asking what happened. I told her. We are not superstitious people. I don’t believe in ghost.
It’s hard to deny something that physically assaults you. I adjusted the AC down to 65, “just for now” I told my wife, the fear of the encounter coming through in my trembling words. We decided to contact the realtor the next day. A sleepless night, and 4 cups of coffee later I reached out to him.
“Oooooh you met George!” He responded with a chuckle on the other line. “What are you talking about, who is George?” I demanded. He quickly reminded me about the listing and how George likes it cold.
“He’s never harmed a soul, 3 family’s lived in that home prior to you and have been fine! It’s as simple as keeping the upstairs cool for George, and he never messes with you. It usually takes an encounter or 2 for people to believe, but they always do!”
We spoke for another 30 mins. He told me how the family before the last, the Kinsley’s, had attempted a sequence, and exorcism, and ghost hunters. No one found anything. George wouldn’t appear for any outside people, and they quickly realized the best thing was to leave the room cold, and abandoned.
The wife and I discussed this that night. Financially we couldn’t afford a move, and this house was the perfect house. Location, design, layout, it was everything we wanted. It would take getting use to, but we could keep the room cold and love with a…ghost…right?
Unfortunately that was trueer than I realized. 3 blissful years in the house went by, all but forgetting about George. The AC stayed at 65, had 3 month maintenance set up on the unit, and we just rarely went upstairs. We had guest over that time, and we thought it best just not to tell them about George. We had a lock placed on the upstairs thermostat and just told anyone staying over that the room had to remain cold due to some tech equipment I had stored upstairs.
Most friends or family didn’t mind or argue over it, other than my dad’s daily grumbles when visiting about the cold. Things were going fine, even with George being a permanent resident.
They were going fine, until Danny. My oldest son was 13 now and had a group of friends in the neighborhood. They were all good kids, except Danny. He wasn’t too bad, but was the “troublemaker” of the group you could say.
We had decided to never tell our kids about George. He was non existent as long as the room stayed cold, and the AC controls were locked, as well as the door to the room. The kids never bothered with it.
But Danny. Danny had to be difficult. Danny questioned our son constantly about what was upstairs. I overheard this question several times and would chime in “it’s just a spare room for family and friends that stay over, and I store some old tech from when I was younger up there” hoping to deter the interest.
Danny wasn’t deterred. It all went to shit on july 15th, 2019. The wife and I had to go to a work dinner for her office, a summer pot luck of sorts. We had left our oldest in charge of the twins for the evening several times. Their grandmother was on speed dial and our neighbor Earl would check in for us. We weren’t gone more than 2 hours that evening…..2 hours to long.
Apparently, this is what happened. This is what I can piece together from my son in between his sobs and blank stares. We are waiting on the police now….I thought I’d record what I could before they got here.
Danny came over. Shit head Danny invited himself over, knowing we weren’t home. My son let him in, thinking they would play some Xbox and chill for a bit, but that’s not why Danny was there. Danny told him he wanted to see the tech stored upstairs. My son objected, and told him no…but he’s not the sterness of boys. He caved when Danny made it clear he was going to look anyway. I use an electronic lock on the bedroom door. Fingerprint scanner is really easy and simple, but I opted to hotwire it in, rather than a battery powered lock. At the time I installed it, shortly after seeing George, I thought for the best.
But Danny knew to much. He had been learning what he could, his busy brain obsessed with going somewhere off limits. I truly think he thought I was. Game developer or some inventor, and kept these amazing things hidden away. I wasn’t. I was a truck driver who enjoyed tech. I had old crtvs and record players and gamepads. Nothing exciting.
Danny convinced my son he could switch off the upstairs breaker, they could look through the stuff and be done in no time. My son let him, afraid of being ostracized from his friend group. Danny flipped the breaker and made his way upstairs. July gets hot in Georgia. The boys made it up to the room and looked around. They found the attic door, and the boxes of my old junk within. They must’ve gotten caught up in looking through old records, and video games and consoles, stuff I hadn’t yet shown my son. According to my son, 20 mins had passed before he heard his brothers calling up to him “I’ll be right back” he told Danny and ran down to check on them. He said he was gone maybe 5 mins, fixing a snack for his brothers, when he heard a screeching wail. He bolted upstairs and saw Danny flung from the attic….he said a grey shadowy figure came from the attic screaming “I told you I…..like…..IT…..COLD!!!”
He stood frozen in the doorway as the figure, George, shifted over to Danny, lifting him off the ground with both of his arms spread out wide.
He can’t remember who he heard scream, whether it was the figure, Danny, or himself. Blood coated his face as Danny’s arms were ripped from his body. My son panicky slammed the door, running downstairs and flipping the breaker…hoping to lock whoever it was in. The AC hummed back to life….I assume calming George.
We rushed home after the call, beating the police. Earl was there, but couldn’t open the door to see, and I think Danny’s parents will be here soon.
I don’t know what to do….how to explain this. How to explain a 13 year old boys lifeless body, arms ripped from their sockets….all because the room wasn’t cold…..