A Creepy Halloween

12 October 2018 | Your True Encounters

My wife and I live in a small central Oklahoma oil town. It’s nearly crime-free, but not quite Mayberry. The nest has been empty for years.

The past few years someone(s) have rung our doorbell late at night, 9:30 – 10:30. The first couple of times this happened I opened the door. Finding no one on the front porch I walked around the outside of our house looking for a prankster. Didn’t see anything, but half expecting to hear a giggle from our shrubs. Nothing.

Those doorbell events never prepared my wife and me for our creepiest Halloween night ever.

On Halloween night it has became inconvenient for us to buy expensive candy, then get up and down for Trick-or-Treaters every time the doorbell rings.

Typically, we go into our bedroom in back of our house, close the blinds and keep all lights turned off. But we can still watch a movie. Too old for much else. Last Halloween night we changed that pattern and sat in our front room.

All the lights were off and the shutters were closed tight, as my wife sat in her recliner getting her classroom lesson ready for the next day, and I sat in my recliner, buried under my laptop, papers, and books. By 10:00 all the kids would be home so we Expected no one at the door. From where I sat it was possible to see the front door.

Suddenly, there was a very loud bang on the door, and the entire wall seemed to shake violently. It was as though someone gave the center of the heavy wooden entry door a tremendous power kick.

We both looked at each other, as if to say, “Who would kick our door like that?”

I couldn’t jump up and run outside to investigate this mischievous person(s), nor be able to catch anybody if I could make it outside quickly.

I told my wife “In the morning I’ll look at the footprint left behind to see if it could’ve been” a neighbor kid.

The strange thing about it, there were no sounds of footsteps, or laughing before or after the episode.

The next morning my wife and I both looked at the door. Not so much as a smudge was on the door. Who, or what, could have quietly approached our front door, making no noises of footsteps, no talking; then after kicking said door with all their might, leaving no mark, and just as silently gone away – no laughs, no sounds of running, no talking?

This event still creeps me out whenever I think about it.

Submitted by Ken Murrell to Weird Darkness and My Haunted Life Too

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