THE DEAD HERE STILL WALK The story I'm about to tell scares the hell out of me just trying to recall it up from my memories, some things are best left dead and buried. After having read the stories on this site, I think it might help me rest easier having let others know of the terror I have experienced at the hand of the supernatural. It all began in 1992 when I moved into a house in Ironton Ohio, a small town in the southern tip of the state. I moved into an old house that was over a hundred years old. At first things were normal, considering getting used to the creeks and moans an older home emits when settling after the sun sets. About two weeks after I experienced my first encounter, I had just finished watching David Letterman, and proceeded with shutting up the house for the night. It was early October and the night air was beginning to get chilly, so I shut the windows I had opened and went into the kitchen to shut the lights off. The kitchen had a basement door in it, and as I reached for the light switch I heard distinctive footsteps climbing the old wooden steps ascending up from the musty damp basement. I froze and listened as the footsteps continued to slowly walk up to the kitchen. Up until this moment I had never felt so scared in my life, I knew it couldn't have been a burglar or anything like that for there were no windows or doors in the basement save for the one in my kitchen. Finally the footsteps stopped at the landing at the top of the steps, and I watched in disbelief as the door knob turned and the old wooden door slowly opened and slammed shut with an ear shattering slam! I was there long enough that night to notice that no one stepped through the doorway, I quickly grabbed my jacket and left to go stay with a relative for the remainder of the night. As time went on I heard the footsteps and the door open and shut on several occasions it still bothered me, but I was determined not to let this drive me out of this beautiful old house. As you will see this was just the tip of the iceberg as far as the haunting goes. I did some research on the history of the house, and to my surprise I discovered in 1956 a murder/suicide took place there. As told to me by several of the long time residents of the community what had happened was a couple by the name of Gilbert had lived there in the fifties, and the husband had caught his wife cheating on him and in a crime of passion he slit his wife's throat as she slept and right afterward went to the basement and hung himself. The official record stated that he was found hanging from the basement beams covered in his wife's blood and the knife used in the murder lay on the floor below his dangling corpse. After learning of these events it was difficult, to say the least not to think about the hideous deeds that this house harbored. About a month after the encounter at the basement door, I had friends from out of town over for the weekend. It was an extended weekend due to the Memorial Day holiday. This was their first visit to my new home and due to the circumstances I purposely held back any information on what I had learned and encountered for fear of scaring them away and it also gave me the chance to get feedback from an unbias source. Joe and Sheila arrived late Friday night. We drank coffee and chatted until around 1:00 a.m. and then turned in for the night. Around 3:30 a.m. I was awakened by a scream. Joe and I found Sheila in the hallway shaking uncontrollably. After getting her calmed down, we found that on her way to the bathroom she saw a woman in white coming towards her in the hallway and in her own words "her throat had looked as if it had been torn away!". That was the last night they stayed in my home, I can't say I blame them. The final event which drove me from this house happened late one night before going to bed. I went through my usual routine of showering and shaving. I stood shaving peering into the foggy mirror a figure appeared behind me. It was the woman's husband. I saw an almost blank look in his eyes as if he was looking past me and his mouth was ag ape as if moaning a silent cry. I never ran so hard in my life I gathered a few necessities and fled the house for the final time. I came back about a week later with friends and gathered my belongings never to return again. I have been fortunate not to experience any strange occurrence like that in my present home and I hope to never again.
Crown.Net Inc. Samuel K. Spitzner Comments to maintainer: sks@crown.net All contents copyright © 1996. David Carroll All rights reserved. Revised: Wednesday, 20-Oct-1999 07:39:15 CDT URL: /X/Stories/DeadStillWalk.html
