Last year I and my wife Amy moved into our new home, in the hope of starting a new life together, after our wedding. It was an old house at a really good price. The house had a sagging roof and peeling paint, while the windows were covered with thick layers of dust. There were cobwebs in the corners and creaking floorboards. The garden was untended and overgrown, with dead leaves and weeds obscuring a path to the front door. Inside, the furniture was shabby, with outdated fixtures and worn carpets but it could be made up with a little work.
At first, it was all sunshine and roses. We settled into our new home and quickly got to work making it a place we could call our own. We worked together, day by day, to make our house a home – painting the walls, buying new furniture, and fixing up the garden. It was hard work but it was worth it – every hour spent improving our home brought us closer together as a couple.
But as time went on, we had a strange feeling that there was someone else with us too. As if someone had taken up residence in the old house besides us. Everywhere we went, we heard and felt a subtle but unmistakable presence, like a cool mist that settled in the air.
At night, we heard strange noises from the walls and the attic, indicating that there was something living in the house. We held long, whispers in the kitchen at two in the morning, when the odd sounds were at their loudest. Still, we refused to believe that there were any ghosts living in the old house, despite the warnings of the locals.
One evening, while we were sitting in the living room, we heard a loud thump coming from the attic. Amy and I exchanged worried glances before I decided to investigate. I made my way up to the attic, only to find that nothing was out of the ordinary.
The next morning, I went to the local library to do some research on this old house. I found a number of interesting documents detailing the history of the property and its previous occupants, including a family that lived there many years ago.
We began to experience more strange occurrences such as creaky doors opening on their own or objects being mysteriously moved around our house. We also noticed a heavy feeling of sadness throughout the house and an inexplicable coldness in certain rooms.
As for the history of the house, the estate agent did not tell us much about the previous owners of this house. He only said a family had lived there for three years when they suddenly moved out without no reason.
We wanted to try and contact the entity, so I bought an Ouija board and one night we started using it. We had been at it for a while when suddenly the room went cold and the entity began to move our hands around the board.
‘What’s your name?’ - we asked.
‘KAI’ - came the response.
‘What do you want?’ - followed.
‘YOU HELP ME.’ he said.
‘What happened to you?’ - we inquired.
We waited for his reply, getting only the word ‘FAMILY.’ in response.
‘What happened to you?’ I asked after a moment of hesitation.
‘LEFT ME.’
I pressed on:
‘Did they kill you?’
Before the pointer could have moved, Amy pushed my hands away.
‘Stop it! This child is obviously in shock! Do you really want to hurt him more?’
At that moment we heard crying in the air but we could not locate where the voices were coming from. But they were the desperate crying of a small boy.
‘Oh my God!’ Amy said and she jumped up, sending the Ouija board tumbling to the floor. Those voices just made us more sorrowful and we felt the urge to do something.
The following day in the kitchen, Amy and I discussed the tragedy that had befallen the boy.
“We must come forward with what we know,” Amy suggested. “Maybe we should contact the police.”
“Do we really want to get involved?” I countered.
“That poor soul won’t rest until his story is told and justice is served,” she replied.
I mulled over her words for a moment.
“Alright,” I conceded. “Let’s talk to the family first. Maybe we can do some digging around without the authorities.”
I took out my phone and called my friend Henry, who was a private detective.
“Hey Henry, can you do me a favour?” I asked him, without revealing any details about the boy.
Instead, I explained to Henry that Amy and I wanted to reach out to the previous owners of our house because we had some questions. Henry came back to me an hour later with a telephone number and address. Amy and I judged it best to give the people a call first.
My hand shook as I dialled each of the ten digits, my stomach fluttering in anticipation as the phone rang. After three long rings, a man answered in a low, neutral voice. “Hello?” he said.
‘Hello?’
‘Good day, Mr Jones. My name is Matt Watts and we are living in the house that you vacated some time ago. Might I ask you a few questions?’
Before I had finished my query, he hung up.
That was very strange and a red flag to me. Amy and I just could not get our heads around it and we kept mulling over what had happened all day. Later that day, I tried to call him again.
‘Listen to me very carefully Mr Watts, do not call me again or otherwise it won’t end well, I can promise you!’ he said and hung up.
The more we thought about it, the more worried we became. We tried to forget about it for the remainder of the night, but eventually, we decided that we had to tell Kai how his family made us feel unsafe and that we didn’t want to reach out to them again.
So we started using the Ouija board again and presented him with the above. At that moment, objects in the room started flying, so he seemed very angry.
We were all in shock, but I knew we had to get Kai some closure. I asked him “Did your family hurt you? Did they do something bad to you?”
Kai remained silent for a few moments before he slowly moved the pointer on the board. “Yes,” he indicated.
My heart broke for him as we realised what had happened and why he wanted us to help him. He wanted us to seek justice for his death and make sure that his parents were held accountable for their actions.
I immediately called Henry again and asked him if he could help us find out more about Kai’s family. I told him about our story as well, Although he did not believe in the paranormal, he was willing to help me as he was a close friend of mine. He agreed and promised to dig deep into their pasts, no matter how long it would take and he would pay a visit to his family.
I offered to go with Henry because I felt like I needed to be there if any evidence of wrongdoing was found. So, the next day, we started making our way towards the address provided by Henry - a small house on the outskirts of our town. It was a long drive, and a sombre mood hung in the air as we both thought about what could have happened to Kai.
‘Be careful, they may be dangerous!’ I advised Henry but I was sure he knew what to do as he was an experienced and well-trained private investigator.
He pressed the doorbell and after a few moments, a middle-aged woman opened the door. She had light hair and eyes that shone like bright sapphires. Her lips had an air of haughtiness as they curved into a thin, uninviting line.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked in a clipped voice. Henry introduced himself, mentioning that we were there about the house and had some questions, and the husband appeared behind her, his brow creased into an angry frown. He was clearly reluctant but eventually stepped aside to let them in.
The family’s home was designed with a modern, yet simplistic style, with some photos on the walls, they were photos of the parents and a little girl but I did not see any photos of the boy. The living area and kitchen are open-plan and the furniture is modern but understated. After taking a seat on the sofa, a small girl with blond hair and bright eyes entered the room. She has an air of curiosity as she looked around at her visitors. She was the girl from the photos.
‘What was it like living there?’ - I questioned. The little girl suddenly dashed away, sprinting up the stairs. The wife attempted to pursue after her, yet she couldn’t catch up.
The man sighed.
‘It was an old house, it needed continuous maintenance, which was not cheap. We got tired of it and we left,’ the husband said with exhaustion in his voice, his eyes shifting away.
Henry leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a serious expression. He adjusted his glasses and said, “Mr Jones. What was the real reason you were moving out?” His voice was low and heavy, and his brow was furrowed in concern.
‘Please leave.’ the husband said, standing up and clenching his fists.
‘You had better tell us what happened before the police do. Because if you did something to your son, you cannot get away with it.’ Henry noted.
Mr Jones’ eyes widened in surprise as he shook his head from side to side. His voice cracked as he spoke, “Son? We never had a son.” His confusion was evident on his face as he looked around the room for an explanation.
‘What do you mean you never had a son? Your son, Kai!’ - I said.
‘Oh…that! Now it says it’s a boy?’
My eyes widened in disbelief as I asked, “What are you talking about?” My mind was racing to comprehend what I had just heard, causing my confusion to swell.
‘What did he tell you?’
‘Just that his family hurt him and left him.’
‘I see, so it seems it tells the same story,’ he replied and went on:
‘So, when we lived there, our daughter started talking to someone. Or something. She said it was a girl, but we never saw her. Her name was Alice and she said the previous family hurt her and then left her. I only started to believe in her when objects flew around, drawers opened and books fell. That fucking thing was haunting the house and it didn’t leave us alone, we were terrified every night until we couldn’t last longer and moved out. Our daughter still visits a therapist. She still has nightmares. That’s why I told you to stay away from us! I think it was a mistake that we tried to communicate with it. Oh, and there was another family before us. They were also harassed by this entity and it wanted them to stay because it claimed everyone had left him, which hurt this thing very much. Did you talk to it? Are you still living there?’
‘Yes we are, but after this, I am not sure…Oh my God.’
At that moment, I realised I had left Amy in that house alone. I was frozen in shock, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. If that thing was not who he or she said it was, we were in danger. I quickly scrambled to my feet and hurried out of the room, Henry followed me.
The sun had set and Amy’s bedroom window was still illuminated by moonlight. I rushed up the stairs two at a time and burst into her room but she was nowhere to be found. My heart raced as I frantically searched the house, calling out her name while visions of all the horrible things that could have happened raced through my mind.
I quickly ran to the living room where Henry was waiting for me with a confused yet concerned look on his face. “She’s not here,” I said, my voice shaking with worry.
We both hesitantly glanced at the door that led to the basement, and Henry’s grip on the gun tightened. We descended the stairs slowly, the wooden planks creaking with each step, and Henry’s gun was drawn in front of him like a shield.
I pulled out my phone and used the flashlight function to light our way. The beam flickered against the damp stone walls as we made our way down. Even in the light, I could feel an icy chill settle over us with each step.
We cautiously climbed down the rickety stairs, gripping the handrail with white-knuckled fear. As our eyes adjusted, a chill swept through us as we noticed a piece of paper on a chair with a message written in crayons:
I HAVE FOUND MY NEW FAMILY.
I was trembling, standing in the hallway, muttering expletives under my breath while searching for Amy in desperation but we did not find her. My stomach sank when we made the 911 call, and soon enough blue and red flashing lights filled the house. The officer questioned me while other officers searched every corner of the house, overturning furniture and opening closets. But after all their efforts, Amy was never found.
I, of course, became a suspect and the police still believe I have something to do with my wife’s disappearance but nobody believes me besides the Jones family and Henry. But I am not so sure about him. As long as there her body is not found (God forgives), they cannot do anything.
I still live here, never intend to sell it and I am not afraid anymore. I am waiting and hoping for that fucking thing to return one day and bring back Amy, wherever he took her.