Sorry, back to add my truly horrible experience..
We have friends who owned a stunning 230 yr holiday cottage near Rye, on the marshes.
They had a long weekend available and asked us if we’d like to stay with our DD’s which was an amazing offer as the farmhouse is in a beautiful area and stunning to boot.
I had a bit of a feeling about the house as we pulled up outside, but it was early spring and we’d driven down after work meaning we arrived in the dark, and I mean pitch dark. I’m a bit funny about not setting somewhere until I have a feel for my surroundings so I put it down to that.
We arranged for them to come to us for dinner on the Friday night, our arrival night and as we hadn’t seen them for a while it was wonderful to catch up.
We’d all had a few drinks and I put the DD’s to bed, the layout meant that there was a tiny square landing with two bedrooms and a bathroom coming straight off of it then a steep drop down the very higgledy piggledy stairs.
I was aware about DD’s needing to get up to use the bathroom in the night as it was an unfamiliar place and there was very little room for mistakes IYSWIM but I am a pretty light sleeper and usually wake when I hear them at home so was not too concerned as the upper floor of the house had polished original boards and they were super creaky.
I fell asleep more or less straight away but woke up an hr or so later after hearing footsteps from the DD’s room, I jumped out of bed to intercept them on the way to the bathroom but when I made the few steps to their room they were both fast asleep.
I went back to bed and thought nothing of it as I knew them possibly getting up in the night was in my mind and figured i’d dreamt it.
Within minutes the noise started again, i’d barely pulled the covers over me so was certainly not sleeping this time, I thought maybe i’d disturbed them while checking in on them a few minutes before so got out of bed again to check expecting this time to meet them on the landing. Again there was no-one there again they were both fast asleep.
I began to feel really uncomfortable at this time as they were definite footsteps that i’d heard, as clear as anything on the wooden boards.
I got back into bed and read for a while before dozing off.
I was awoken a short while later by the footsteps again but this time I took longer to hear them, I rolled over and began to lift the covers away from my face and looked towards the floor at the side of the bed, only to see a pair of small feet visible between the edge of the bed and the quilt.
They were not my DD’s feet.. they were smaller pale and absolutely filthy. The room was freezing cold and I felt fear like I’d not felt for years. It was pitch dark in the room, the bathroom light was on but the door was pulled to however I could see these feet as clearly as if it were daytime.
I pulled the covers back over my head and froze, I couldn’t think rationally, after what seemed like hours I had the courage to peek from under the covers again and the room was as before, relatively warm and no sign of any feet. I moved from the position I was in to DH’s side of the bed and clung to him until the sun began to rise, too scared to speak sleep was not an option for the remainder of the night.
As soon as the sun was up I got braver and woke DH and told him what had happened, he couldn’t understand why I hadn’t woken him but I was just to terrified to move.
We were supposed to be staying for another night but packed up and left before breakfast.
Once my friends sold the cottage I told them what had happened, apparently two previous guests had reported similar experiences but being rather down to earth they dismissed it.
In hindsight I don’t think the little boy (I just knew it was a boy somehow) meant me any harm it was almost like he wanted his Mum in the night.