Wierd 3: (The last night for ME in that bloody place!)
I'd spent several hours after work on my PC working on a software project for the college where I worked (American Rivver College, mind you). As usual, I went to bed reading Knuth. Around 2:30 in the morning, I woke up much in need of a visit to the littlest room in the house. As I went about my business, standing there, I was frozen in (sorry) mid-relief: I heard a quiet moaning coming up from directly beneath me, like it was someone moaning in the tv room on the ground floor. It only sounded once, so I thought it might just be a cat or something. I started and almost finished what I was doing (sorry again) when the moan came again, only a bit louder and a bit further along to the east of the house than before. Hair on neck standing on end, I dashed back into my room and closed the door. Once again came the moan, only now it sounded like it was at the base of the stairs. I sat down in the corner next to my bed and listened. I heard footsteps on the stairs like heavy workman's boots, followed by an even louder, even nearer moan. I was scared shitless, folks: I can't remember ever being this scared before in my life! Fourteen steps and three down the hall, two moans later. Now it was at my door. I was tightly wedged with my back to the wall, my hands and legs beginning to shake. I heard something brushing up against the door. And then the moan, this time so loud, so near. I felt cold. What do I do? What do I do? It moaned again, and I saw the handle on the door move clockwise, then counter, but the door remained closed. The moan zenithed into the most hideous screech, topped by a loud thudding at the door. Quiet: Then another terrible screech! I screamed - for the FIRST time in my life - for Jesus to help me. I screamed it again and again, all the while being accompanied by the painful moaning and screeching. All at once, the moaning stopped, as did the sounds at the door. I sat there frozen in absolute terror, eyes fixed on the door for nearly an hour. It was some time later, around 5:00, that my roomates car drove up. I heard the car shut off; door open, close; and heard him baby talk to his cats. I realized I was still sitting in the same place. I stood up, walked down stairs and called a friend who had a truck. My roomate say that I was just a tad distressed and asked me what was wrong. I appologised and said that I would be moving out immediately. That's what I did. I never went back into the house, nor do I have any intention of ever doing so in future.