Several years ago, I lived in an old mining town in the southwest. The small town had an interesting history, a mining massacre nearby, Bat Masterson and Kit Carson had lived there at one time as well. So it’s expected that there might be a few ghosts here and there…and there were.
My husband and I moved to this small town because he took a teaching position. Rentals were hard to find but eventually we lucked out and found a small attic apartment in an old converted house. There were three apartments, two downstairs on the main level and then ours in the attic. It was quaint and cozy, each apartment had its own baseboard heat, no AC but plenty of windows.
At first, I didn’t feel anything strange about the little place. Moving in was easy and fast and in no time we were settled in and enjoying our new homestead. As time went on though, I would catch little things, a movement, a shadow, a sound but I played it off as getting use to a new place. The wind was always blowing in that area and it often created unusual whistling sounds.
One evening as we sat watching TV, my husband in his recliner across the small living room and I on the love seat near the kitchen, I noticed the very strong smell of fresh brewing coffee. It was rather late and thought it sort of strange that somebody would drink coffee so late. My husband didn’t smell a thing. It happened several times over the course of two weeks and as if by noticing out loud gave something or someone confirmation of their message, the smells increased. I would occasionally smell a woman’s perfume or other odd smells I could not identify. Then one evening as we watched TV, I smelled a freshly lit cigarette. It was if somebody had just fired one up next to me on the love seat. I sniffed the air and asked my husband if he could smell it. He told me it was probably the neighbor downstairs. I said we couldn’t possible smell that, the windows were shut against the wind and we had no interlocking vent system. He said, “well, you were just outside smoking”. I said, “THAT, was two hours ago”. Now he looked confused but shrugged this entire conversation off and went back to the program.
As we got closer to Spring, the homeowner was in town and wanted to show my husband how to turn on the underground sprinklers. We had to go through our neighbors apartment to get to the basement. The neighbor, John and I followed my husband and the homeowner to the basement but as those two men descended the stairs, John and I stopped inexplicably. I asked John if he always drinks coffee late at night and smokes in the apartment. He looked confused for a moment and then smiled but I also saw fear in his eyes.
He said, “I don’t own a coffee pot and I don’t smoke. Look around my kitchen if you like. I guess you are experiencing things too?”
I started to tell him everything I had seen, heard and smelled and all the while he nodded and gave me a sympathetic but knowing smile.
I heard my husband call me to the basement and as I descended the heavy stone stairs into the stone basement, I felt something I had not felt in years. The oppression in that basement was deafening, threatening and massive. It started to pressure my chest, I could not feel the air in my lungs and my husband saw the distress in my eyes and I could not speak to him either. He rushed over to me and guided me up the stairs and as soon as my feet were firm on the first floor, I could feel myself breath again. This is not the first time I had experienced something like this. Being empathic, I often sense and feel things that others do not. It can be terribly frightening and unsettling.
That evening, I called a friend who is a psychic medium. I asked her to remote read on our residence and she told me a woman is there who always had her friends over for coffee, she is lonely and misses them. I said I am ok with that, I don’t feel any dread off of that. I asked her if she picked up on anything else. She told me that she didn’t want to talk about it on the phone, that we should meet.
The next day, I met with her. I told her all that had happened, all the smells and sounds, the incident in the basement and lately, the feeling something was staring daggers at me from the bedroom door. She listened and then told me she had picked up something dark and warned me to leave as soon as possible.
That evening, as my husband and I slept side by side, our two dogs sleeping one on either side of the bed to protect us…I am not even sure how to describe this waking dream. In my dream, I could not breath. I felt a darkness on me and all around me, my chest being very heavy. But then I woke and it was happening to me. I could see this massive darkness on top of me, silhouetted by the street lights through the window. It was pressing down on me, my heart and chest were burning. I could see it, feel it, smell it and it wasn’t the old lady who’s ghost was yearning for one more afternoon coffee with friends. This thing was from the basement! It had followed me upstairs. I had to muster all my strength and will and I pushed myself up, I screamed out the name of Jesus and said, “you are not welcome here dark spirit. Get out of my house! In the name of Jesus!” As I screamed Jesus’ name, it lifted off of me and disappeared. My husband hit the ceiling, along with the dogs, and he grabbed his gun off the bedside table as his feet hit the floor.
He turned on the light and realized we were alone, he went through the entire apartment as I sat in bed crying and holding our dogs. As he returned to the room, he said, “I’ll look for a new place tomorrow”.
Submitted by ADM
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