05 September 2019 | Demons, Haunted houses, Your Stories, Your True Encounters
I’ve only started telling this story recently. My small-ish hometown of Spanish Fork, Utah has more strange things happen per capita than I realized. When I was a kid, I moved into the basement of the house my grandpa built, and thought life was perfect. I was the only one down there. There was a really cold, creepy spot at the base of the stairs, but I didn’t think much of it at first.
As time went on, it got worse. A lot worse. To the point that I was almost 19, and had to turn off the lights in a specific order so as to not be left in the dark while in the line of sight of that spot. The place had grown. It wasn’t just a place where you could stand anymore. It was pretty much the whole basement, especially during the night. If I could, I avoided going down there. It wasn’t so much a scary feeling as just not being welcome our wanted, and when I knew we’d been the only owners, I didn’t know how that was the case.
My parents (finally!) noticed the basement freaked me out, and my dad said it was probably the ghost of the furnace guy. Now, I can never tell when my dad is pulling my leg when he says this kind of stuff, but I know how I felt, and something was really wrong. So I did something stupid.
As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (many people use the pejorative term Mormon), I received priesthood authority and duties as part of the lay priesthood. One of the things we’re authorized to do is bless homes to sanctify them. So I tried this, and things seemed to calm down. I thought I’d done it, all by myself. But I soon realized you’re not supposed to do that kind of thing on your own.
I soon went on a mission, but while in the missionary training center, started having severe mental health issues. One night after lights out, I felt the familiar unsafe, unwelcome, coldness wash over me, along with a voice. It was deep and grating. It said “You’re mine,” and laughed for what seemed like hours. I didn’t sleep that night. The voice came twice more, saying that it’d always be there, and I belonged to it.
I’m 32 now, and my wife, kids and I have had a lot of troubles, to the point where I’ve felt cursed, and I’ve wondered if it has to do with my going into this situation unprepared. Whatever it is, I antagonized a malicious spirit in my basement as a kid, and now I worry that I’m still paying for that mistake.
Submitted to Weird Darkness and My Haunted Life Too by Jeff D.
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