Very early on I started to have strange feelings about the place, which caused me to avoid going upstairs alone. I also began to have disturbing dreams that got worse the longer we stayed here.
Frank was a long-haul trucker and he quite often would have a story about his time on the road. I was very young but I still remember many tales being told. Unfortunately some of the stories have faded with time but this one story always stood out. This story truly scared me so I still remember it like it was told to me yesterday.
The hours passed and the painting I was creating on the board became more and more sad looking, to the point it became… well how should I say, kind of hideous. The portrait of Dorian Gray couldn’t have looked more horrifying.
One of the stranger things I noticed as I thought about it later is that no one on the busy street so much as turned their heads to look at her as they passed by
She was looking at the end of the bed and wringing her hands uncontrollably, almost in a jerky manner like she was trying to get something off them. My first thought was that she was having a nightmare and that I need to wake her up.
It appeared to be a large human form with outstretched arms that looked like they were about to wrap themselves around to grab me! Then I heard the footsteps, close and directly behind me. Footfall sounds that should not be there; I knew what it was and why it was following us.