Have you ever had an experience that is so visceral and surreal that it follows you every day for the rest of your life? One that makes you second guess or hesitate to do anything that may put you in the same situation? If you haven’t already guessed, I have.
I was very down on my luck at the time, no job, no family, and subsequently, no home. My days consisted of moving around, being as I was homeless at the time, I didn’t stay in one spot for very long. I’d had a nasty break up with my then-girlfriend and left with nothing more than a backpack with some clothes and a blanket. I didn’t even have a phone.
One particular day I decided to move on to yet another town, yet I had no specific destination. I simply picked a direction and carried on my way. I found myself walking along some back roads that took me further and further into bum fucked nowhere, with only the occasional wooded areas ever couple of miles on either side of the road. I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been walking, but night fell and the road in front of me was getting dark.
Any source of light was obstructed by thick storm clouds that made it difficult to navigate. There was no telling how far the nearest civilization was, and if that wasn’t bad enough it soon started pouring rain. I pulled my hood over my head and trudged through it. I’d begun to worry that I’d be walking for several hours before reaching any semblance of shelter. I hadn’t seen a car pass for I don’t know how long.
I kept pace as fast as possible until I came across what looked to be a house that I spotted through a clearing of thick trees. I contemplated for a moment, not sure what to do. Eventually I decided it would be best if I tried to see if I could hunker down, at least until the rain dissipated. The house was pretty far back into the trees down a narrow dirt road. As I approached, I saw that the one-story house seemed old and run down. I noticed the shutters on the windows were closed.
I reached the porch and knocked, to be honest I was a little nervous about who I might encounter out in the middle of nowhere, where basically anything could happen. There was no answer, so I knocked again. I waited for a couple minutes before hesitantly turning the knob.
As I entered, I was met with the smell of stale air and it was pitch black. “Hello?” I called out. “Anyone home?” Silence… I felt along the wall until I found a light switch, though nothing happened when I flipped it. I shut the door to keep the rain out and let my eyes adjust to the room. I squinted through the darkness, surveying the living room, it was rectangular in structure.
To the far left sat a small couch with an armchair across from it, separated by a coffee table. Across from me was a doorway leading to what I presumed to be the kitchen, and directly to my right was a coat rack. Aside from the furniture, the rest of the living room only consisted of a bookcase, and photos that hung loosely from the walls.
Hoping that maybe the electricity was only briefly knocked out by the storm I searched for a breaker box. In the kitchen was a door that led to a basement. The only other door was the back door, which was boarded up as well. “Great.” I thought. “The breaker box would be in a creepy basement of a house that was tailor made for horror movies.”
I cautiously descended the creaky stairs as I struggled to find my footing in the darkness. The basement was filled with random boxes as far as I could see, along with a few baskets full of clothes. I spotted the breaker box and tried to flip it. To my disappointment nothing happened. I sighed, gathering that no one has lived here for a while. I found it odd, however, that it seemed as though most of the occupants’ belongings were left behind.
I climbed the stairs once more returning to the living room. The storm outside raged on as I contemplated where to sleep. I found one of the bedrooms and peered in. Everything appeared normal, save for the fact that it seemed like nobody had slept here for some time. The bed was made, and family photos decorated the walls.
The open closet revealed clothes still hanging up. It was so difficult to see because even the windows in this room were boarded up from the inside. I felt a bit strange about sleeping in someone else’s bed so I decided to sleep on the couch. I laid down listening to the rain until I eventually drifted off.
Do you ever have times in which something wakes you up but it takes you a while to realize what it was? Well that’s what happened to me, not to mention forgetting where I was. I looked around, again waiting for my eyes to adjust. I noticed the rain had mellowed out some but that wasn’t it. As I squinted around the room I noticed something out of place. I couldn’t tell you why I even noticed. The coat rack.
That’s when I noticed the breathing. My eyes scanned their way to the chair across from me. My blood turned to ice. I could see the form of what I initially believed to be that of a coat rack sitting directly across from me, leaning forward in the chair, only mere feet from my face. He wore an old hat, though I couldn’t make out any details of his face.
I was paralyzed with fear. My breathing was shaky despite my attempt to keep calm, his own raspy breathing stopped as he must have noticed my awareness. His head slowly turned to the side. That was all it took. I jumped up and scrambled for the door, nearly falling. I pulled on the door to no avail, looking closely I saw padlocks on the door that I hadn’t noticed before.
In my current state of panic I made a break for the basement, being that all other windows and doors were boarded up. I nearly tumbled down the stairs after slamming the door behind me. I stood with my hands clasped tightly around the doorknob, holding it closed. I listened for any movement and soon heard footsteps creeping slowly toward the door.
The floor creaked beneath his feet as he stopped at the door. The only sound I could hear over my own breathing was that of the man on the other side of the door. His breathing was slow and raspy, and almost animalistic. I stood holding the door for what seemed like forever, listening to the breathing. I was waiting for the moment that whoever was on the other side would force his way in. I thought he’d never leave until I heard the footsteps of the man as he walked away.
Moments later I heard the sound of a lock being undone, and the sound of the front door opening and closing. After a few minutes of silence I let go of the door, I hadn’t realized I’d been gripping the doorknob so tightly my hand was sore. I was still to paranoid to open the door, so I decided I needed to find something, anything that I could defend myself with.
I made my way back down the steps and started rummaging through the basement, I listened carefully for any movement upstairs. I’d just about given up when my foot had hit something. I reached down, fumbling in the darkness until I found a flashlight. I thought I would feel some relief when I turned it on, but once I scanned the basement with it I found something that made me sick.
At first, when the light illuminated the laundry baskets, I had no clue what I was looking at. I approached slowly, and what I saw, my eyes refused to believe. Flesh, all of which was treated, as if it were leather. I tried to convince myself it was that of animals as I took a closer look, until I noticed the faces. Human faces, several of them amidst various other skins from who knows how many people. That wasn’t all, I found something else, rested on a metal chair next to the baskets was a yellow notepad.
My mind was racing, it told me I should just focus on a way out and never look back but my curiosity got the best of me given the circumstances. I picked up the notepad and read the first page.
“We ask only to be reassured about the noises in the cellar and the window that should not have been open.” It read.
I flipped to the next page.
“One need not be a chamber to be haunted. One need not be a house. The brain has corridors surpassing material place.”
I kept flipping pages.
“Stare at the dark too long and you will eventually see what isn’t there.”
“Maybe all the schemes of the devil were nothing compared to what man could think up.”
“I don’t live in darkness, darkness lives in me.”
On and on it went, each page containing macabre phrases, most of which stained with smears of what seemed to be dried blood. I decided then that I had to get the fuck out of this God-forsaken house by any means necessary.
I still hadn’t heard anything since the man left the house, so I put the notepad aside and crept back up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. Slowly I opened the basement door and peeked out. Although I saw nothing moving, I was still cautious to say the least. I made my way through the kitchen and into the living room. Without hesitating I pulled the door open. My stomach dropped.
As I aimed the flashlight directly in front of me I saw a face I would never forget. His skin was withered and pale. His wild eyes were grey and almost unnaturally wide. He was sickly thin, wearing clothes much too big for him that were stained with what was most likely blood. His hair was tangled and matted. The man’s mouth hung open revealing rotted teeth. For a moment I couldn’t move, the cold, emotionless expression he wore was paralyzing. The eyes were so distant and yet I felt as if they were digging their way into my soul.
I slowly started to back up, and as I did so I saw the man’s open mouth turn into a frown, and his blank expression turned into an angry grimace, as if he were disgusted beyond measure. I turned and ran to the first door I saw. As I reached the bedroom once u I heard the footsteps of the man behind me, his breath turning into a desperate growl.
I barreled into the room and was barely able to shut the door behind me before he slammed into it. I quickly reached for the knob and locked it. I kept my back to the door as I listened to his raspy breathing, after a few attempts at opening the door, he stopped. Then suddenly he broke out into a maniacal laughter, rambling incomprehensible gibberish. I had to find a way out as soon as possible.
As I turned the light toward the window that was boarded up, something caught my eye. The pictures. The families in the photos, and I mean different families in each picture that adorned the wall, were all mutilated and made to pose in different ways. Faces were forced into bloody, toothless smiles with hooks through their cheeks. Eyes were removed. Bodies were sewn together in a horrific embrace resembling a hug. Mouths were sewn to one another as if they were kissing.
Then as I moved the light toward the closet, I made yet another horrific discovery. Like the laundry hampers in the basement, in which were what I assumed to be nothing more than clothes, I found even more human flesh. Entire torsos of people were hanging from the rack, also seemingly treated as if it were leather. I felt sick. The whole situation was beyond anything I’d ever expect to experience. All the while the man continued to laugh and ramble unintelligibly.
“What do you want?” I shouted breathlessly. The laughter stopped suddenly. I listened intently, hearing only the raspy breathing of the man. “Just a happy family, I love to see a happy family.” he said in a low, animated voice. Then suddenly he proceeded to kick at the door, every loud bang was accompanied by a screeching bellow.
I knew if I didn’t act quickly, I’d be killed, and likely turned into the casual apparel of a fucking sadist. To the left of the door was an armoire, with a surge of adrenaline i strained to push it in front of the door, tipping it over in the process. The scenery before me was almost too gruesome for my mind to make sense of it as one of the armoire doors swung open upon hitting the doorknob. Multiple severed human heads cascaded out onto the floor, all of them were maimed, and disfigured.
It was only the will to survive that drove me into a frenzy. I scrambled to the barricaded bedroom window and began driving my foot into it as the man continued to do the same to the door. I kicked and kicked with everything I had until the wood finally gave way. I tore away at the boards until I had full access to the window. To my dismay I found that it was also nailed shut. The crazed lunatic on the other side of the bedroom door seemed to be growing more frantic, and his shouting grew more hysterical.
Without thinking twice I grabbed the end table next to the bed and heaved it at the window. After two tries the window gave way with a satisfying shatter. Adrenaline still rushed through my veins as I climbed out and wasted no time sprinting into the direction of the trees. Moments after I took off running I heard the sound of the man bursting from the front door, and the maniacal laughter as I ran. I could only assume he didn’t give chase as the chaotic sounds faded behind me.
I ran until my legs were on fire, until my blood turned to acid, and then I ran some more. I don’t know how long I’d been running until I finally reached a road. Almost out of pure luck I spotted a car traveling by. I stepped into the middle of the road waving both hands like a lunatic as the car approached. I breathlessly told the driver that I needed the police. “Call… Police… People… Murdered…” Was all I could choke out. Luckily he obliged.
I did my best to explain to the cops exactly what happened in detail. Of course they were a bit skeptical, a sweaty, homeless drifter giving them a story about a murder situation undreamed of by even the most seasoned of homicide detectives. I was taken to the nearby police department to give a formal statement. I told them of the notepad, the human leather garments, and gave the description of the man I’d seen.
Then the unthinkable happened. I was told that not only was the man nowhere to be found, but that the house itself was empty save for the furniture. The hampers were gone, the closets were empty, the armoire contained nothing at all, nor were there any disfigured family photos or severed heads. It was assumed by the police that the occupants that lived there had simply picked up and moved, leaving most of their belongings behind.
I tried to convince them, but I was told that if I didn’t want to be charged with falsifying a police report and destruction of property that I’d better just leave immediately. As discouraged as I was I didn’t want to push my luck, since I was especially lucky to make it out of there.
Months went by and I’d actually started to find a foothold in my life again despite the psychological trauma I’d faced. In fact it seemed to give me a fresh outlook on life. I actually reconnected with my ex, and eventually rekindled our relationship. I started a decent paying job, and proposed, and was surprised soon after to find out that my wife was pregnant. With our newfound stability, we decided it was time to move being that she was going to pop any day, and we needed a bigger house. We found a house out in the country that was a perfect fit, closer to my job, and far away from the shit that haunted me. Things were going great.
After we were completely moved, we had a little housewarming party and invited some friends. I spent most of the time at the grill, having a few beers and laughs with the guys. My wife stayed inside with the woman doing the things that woman do when they congregate. I caught myself spacing out for a moment, thinking of my experience, I never talked about it to anyone except my wife.
“Hey babe, do you know where the photo album is?” Sabrina asked, bringing me back to the present.
“Umm… Not sure love, honestly the last time I’ve seen it was at the apartment, didn’t you pack it?” I responded.
“No… I thought you did.” She said curtly. I shook my head with a sigh. “Last I saw it was a couple weeks before we moved.”
“Damn.” She grumbled. “They wanted to see the ultrasound. And it gives me an excuse to show them your baby pictures and stuff.” She gave me a devious grin.
” Well God forbid that would be missing. “ I laughed. “Anyways, it might turn up somewhere.”
The guests stayed around for a couple more hours before it was time to wrap it up and go home. The rest of the night was spent relaxing in front of the tv until Sabrina fell asleep in my arms, so I shut the lights off and headed for bed. I felt like things were going perfectly, which isn’t something I’m accustomed to. It seemed as though I was starting to adapt since the incident, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t fuck with me from time to time, especially in my dreams.
The next day I woke up relatively early and couldn’t fall back asleep. I had a few hours before work so I sat on the couch in front of the tv, drinking my morning coffee. I didn’t like sitting idly. Once the memories creep in I become restless and try to occupy my mind with anything. I noticed the sound of rain as I sat fixated on nothing in particular, and it brought me back to that night.
I stood and made my way to the front door and stepped out, taking in the scenery of the grey sky, reliving that night in my mind. Above all else I felt like I was at the point that maybe I could move on from my experience one step at a time. That was until I turned around to go back inside. I noticed something resting against the house next to the front door.
It was a backpack… A very familiar one. I reached out a shaky hand with trepidation, picking up the bag. Walking slowly, I carried it inside I dropped it on the couch. I could only stare at it for several moments before I finally gathered the nerve to look inside. As I slowly unzipped the bag, I don’t know what I expected to find, I just felt it was going to bring me back to the panic I felt in that hellhole of a house.
As I peered in, to my surprise I only found the clothes I had packed in it when I was traveling. That was until I spotted something else. I pulled out a very familiar large binder, that was formed into a photo album. I felt bile rise up in my throat as I opened it, each and every page displayed all of the family photos that it had always contained, only every one of them had what seemed to be blood smeared in the form of a smiley face covering them. Parents, grandparents, siblings, nephews, nieces, cousins, aunts, and uncles.
I kept flipping, and flipping pages, until I came to the last and final photo. My heart lurched in my chest. The ultrasound. Blood was stained upon it in a smile like the rest. On the page to the right of it was a ripped-out page from a yellow notepad. In unmistakable handwriting it read “Planning on adding to the family? So am I.”
And beneath that it read “Everyone wants a happy family.”