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Post by Navitas on Tue Sep 22, 2009 5:33 am


I have submitted a few encounters before on your wonderful site, and was reminded of this one at a family reunion this year.
I had graduated from of high school and was soon to go into the Marine Corps, when my mom had a bit of bad luck and we had to move into the city of Harrisburg Pa. into a row home on S. 13th street. It was a three story home with basement in a row of 10 homes on the block, commonly known as a block burner, If one burns, they all burn!
The house was HUGE inside 13 foot ceilings on the 1st. floors and 10 ft. ceilings on the 2nd and third floors, with three bedrooms and a bath on the 2nd. floor and 2 bedrooms on the 3rd. floor. There was a staircase from the front of the living room to the second floor that ended at a landing on the second floor and approaching the other side of the landing went down again into the kitchen, so that if you chose to, you could walk up the front staircase to the second floor and then down the rear staircase to the kitchen, (which I Loved to do!).
We had moved from a small home, that we had moved to from the projects, so this Huge home was beyond my experience, and though it was in a semi- bad neighborhood, it wasn't any worse than the projects were, I just had to adjust to some new cultures, those being, Spanish, Vietnamese, and some others. I'm a people watcher and not introverted, so I got along with everyone within a few weeks.
The only thing I couldn't deal with was my pending date with basic training, and that house.
I had apparently had dealings with the 'other side' when I was younger and in typical all boy manner, had completely ignored these events. (I'm told now, another story.) I always have instinctively known and avoided 'bad' places and situations, It is always like a gentle 'pushing away' from a situation or person, and continues to this day. This house literally Shoved me away and didn't stop 'till I left for boot camp, and I left For Parris Island with relief!
I had not seen the house 'till we were moving in. I and my mom's boyfriend backed the truck up to the door and on first entry, I felt as if something was forcing me back out the door, like someone was pushing me out with a mattress, or flat foam, but nothing was there. I put it off as a strong breeze thru the house, (doors and windows closed and locked. Duh!), and back to work we got. Another load later we were done and setting up beds and stuff, We all decided to take a break for the day and start over in the morning. Once we sat back and ate and relaxed, I noticed that the place felt weird, kind of oppressive, but I was tired and I went up to my bedroom to get some sleep. I've always been a light sleeper, out of necessity (living in the projects), But that night I slept like the dead, and woke up at the top of the steps with my arm hanging over the top step and down the run. I got up and showered and when my mom came down and I told her where I woke up, she said that she didn't sleep well either but she didn't elaborate further.
We Never had any luck in that house. We fought with each other, My sister threw Knives at me when we always got along before. We all got rid of our Signifigant Others within a month of moving in, leaving us to vent on each other, all in all, a fun time was had by all.
The house had some quirks too. The basement only I could go into. The women physically could not pass what was at the top of the stairs to the basement. I watched my mother projectile vomit the one time she made it past the landing and halfway down the steps to come see what I was doing 'down there'. Whatever was there never bothered me. 'Till later on.
There was a bedroom on the third floor that was painted a very loud purple, and the floor black. I repainted this room with a primer known as Killz, that was to cover any stain or paint and seal it so there was no bleed through. I painted the room three times, all three times the next morning the room was the same shade of purple. I gave up. I took an old dresser up there to store it and scratched the floor. The paint was peeling off the floor so I got going with a scraper and peeled the Whole floor. This was the third floor, in june, in Pa., 80 degrees. and I don't remember taking a break till I was done. I didn't remember the pentagram that was painted on the floor, or the ouija board painted in the center of the pentagram either until my mom went up to see what I was doing all day and very loudly started cursing me out. My mom claimed I had done it (which I hadn't, it was under the black paint I guess, as there was NO black, blue or red paint in the house, only white), and when I told her it must have been there the whole time she went pale and said she had to go see Miss Margaret, a Good friend of my mom, whom was the most gifted 'seer' I have ever known. She refused to even walk in the door, and started to shake. At this point I started to worry something was wrong. This woman had stood off 4 armed thugs by herself with just her mouth and curses and absolutely had no fear of Anything I had ever seen, and here she was about to Pee herself in fear in the vestibule of the house I lived in.
She told us this house was Evil The spirits in the house were evil and were trying to get us to harm each other, and that we must move, now, now that we know that the spirits were attacking us, and that it will be a full on attack from now on. She even asked us to stay with her 'till we could get out, But Mom, who also never feared any man, woman or animal, Who would go toe to toe with any of her boyfriends or anyone that tried her, Decided nothing was going to chase her out of her house. So we stayed.
A few years later after I got out of the Marines, Miss Margaret told me that whatever was in the house Had called her by name and was trying to pull her IN the house, and was laughing at her the whole time, and the large Black man was standing at the top of the stairs on the landing, grinning at her.
I wish she had said something then!
After I peeled the paint off the floor upstairs, All Hell broke loose. I worked nights at that point and when I came in to the house it felt like I had 40 pounds of weight set on my shoulders and head. I saw black fog like areas on the stairways to the third floor and basement, to the point that I would check to see if the kitchen was on fire, but no smell, I was Moody to the point of violence, but only in the house, as was every one else. My sister tells me now that she used to see this large dark skinned black man in a dark purple three piece suit and red, bugging, bloodshot eyes standing at mom's bedroom door watching her sleep, and a frail looking young, light skinned lady in a bathrobe sitting on the side of the tub behind her in the bathroom
mirror in the mornings. When she turned around, she wasn't there. She said she got used to her. This about the time she took to throwing knives at me.
I had my own 'visit' with the man and until my sister spoke of him I didn't even remember seeing him. It was in the basement, I was working on a bicycle for a neighbor kid, and I turned to go to the back of the basement, where the boiler was,
and from around the back of the boiler stepped the man in the purple suit. Thinking he was a prowler, I immediately went into fight mode and charged him, (this was a Looong basement, at least 60 ft.), and as I got near him, he smiled and said ' Oh ya..You'll do" in a carribean accent.I ran right through him and bounced off of the oil tank and fell over the other junk in the basement skinning up my knuckles and arms.
For some reason I didn't remember this incident 'till my sister mentioned seeing the man. Weird.
We would smell candle wax, hear voices in the heater vents chanting, see flitting shadows dart around doors, bad, bad smells, we would go to the store and put the meat in the freezer and the meat was always rotten when we thawed it out. Even hotdogs!
My Mom had two preachers come over to bless the house one night when I was at work and When I came home my mom was pale, shaking, chain smoking and calling about apartments. I was leaving for basic in a week and I spent the last weekend of freedom I had moving my family out of that house into the projects. I never saw my mother happier. I was never happier to get on a bus either!
In the late 80's the house next door to our old place burned up and took the places next to it with it. A developer bought the end units including the burnt out buildings and rebuilt them to the corner and made apartments out of them.
the only information I ever got about the place was that no one lived there for more than 6 months at a time, and the place was empty when it burned. We stayed 2 months and it literally took years to mend the fences in our relationships after that place. Up 'till my mom died, she wouldn't talk about what happened to her in that house other than to say she should have burned the place down when we left. That's it . Contact me if you feel the need. Thanks for the forum, and keep up the great work......

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Post by Artemas on Thu Sep 24, 2009 11:19 pm

ahhhhhhh the old days........ hehe thanks for posting this navitas.. this reminded me of some awesome times........

by the way this story sounds like a case of Pacting with a dark spirit. the original owner of the house would have had to crave something so bad that a strong negative (rarely positive) energy would be released. a spirit would sense this energy and based on its wants and needs abuse (yet again rarely appease) the person releasing the energy..

in return the spirit would claim something from the person..

if you believe in a soul then that could be what it claimed.. but if you believe in the energies released by a person(by this i dont mean u have to belive in only one or any at all) the spirit may demand a bridge from which it would feed.. so like the house....

i would say the woman in the RR was probably the person that pacted and the black man was the spirit that abused.....

a prime story of negative necromancy gone wrong.... or right?

haha where did you get this from???

i used to be very into things like this........ used to.. haha

what do you guys think?


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Post by Navitas on Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:29 am

I forget which page on that website that the story came from but I love reading those stories.

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Read This Before Bed Empty Re: Read This Before Bed

Post by Navitas on Fri Sep 25, 2009 1:35 am

Building A House of Fire


When I was about 7 or 8, my family moved to North Carolina, an area famous

for ghosts. We moved into a modest 2-story house that appeared normal from

all aspects. Everything was great for the first couple of months, until I

started to realize that something about this place frightened me.

At the head of the stairs, my father's bedroom door was to the right and

mine to the left. Even in the hottest weather, my father's bedroom was

deathly cold. The first few events ocurred in my bedroom. My grandfather

worked at Duke University and would bring home tennis balls hit out of the

court for our dog to play with. Our dog would, most annoyingly, play with

these balls in my room late at night. As a means of stopping this, I would

lock the balls (3 of them) in my closet, which opened outward. The next

morning, I would awake to find my dog playing with her 3 tennis balls with

the closet STILL CLOSED.

These events continued for a while, but came to a rather startling climax.

One night I once again locked the 3 tennis balls away. The next morning I

awoke to find our dog laying in a pile of what must have been 50 tennis

balls. To this day, I still do not know where they came from.

That was the most sane event in the house. I have already said my father's

bedroom remained ungodly cold. In this bedroom, I could swear I heard

voices, doors opening, and music - but I was too afraid to check.

I asked some of our neighbors if they knew anything strange about our

house. I was told that the lot we lived on had seen many different houses.

Each one had burned to the ground a few years after it had been built. I

came to find out that the first house built on the lot was burned down by

the owner after his wife had died in childbirth.

The final event I ever saw in the house ocurred while my parents were at

work. I was watching TV when my dog started to go crazy. I then heard

what sounded like an agonizing scream and a loud thud coming from upstairs.

I gathered up enough nerve and walked upstairs. A faint odor of smoke was

coming from my dad's bedroom and I looked in. My father's bed was resting

on its headboard up against the wall. Once again, I smelled smoke. I

grabbed my dog and went outside. About 10 minutes later, our house was

burning to the ground. During the time it took for our house to burn down,

I continually heard a scream of "NO!"

To this day, my parents think I burned down the house - but I know


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