In response to CorsicaDreaming I’ll relate one of the most bizarre and bloody scary occurrences that’s ever happened to me.
It’s a long one so buckle up and yes, I know it sounds far fetched but I absolutely swear this really happened and it freaked me the heck out.
This happened a number of years ago, I was living in my great grandparents house in East London. My Great Grandfather had passed away many years prior and my Great Grandmother was now living in sheltered accommodation however she’d recently had a mild stroke and was currently in hospital. She couldn’t yet speak properly (very slurred and difficult to make out what she was saying) but the doctors thought she’d be ok, just waiting on an assessment.
So, it’s Sunday. I’m home alone doing the housework and I’m now upstairs cleaning the insanely small bathroom. So small infact I’m almost arse out the door cleaning the bath. I step back onto the landing, still bent in half from bath scrubbing and to my left I see a pair of men’s trouser legs and polished black shoes. Instantly I freeze but my mind is running 1000 miles an hour - did someone get in? No, I’d have heard the front door or the back door, both of which were locked plus I’d not heard footsteps on the stairs, broken glass, door being forced etc.
I slowly begin stand and turn to my left and I see a young man, I’d say mid-30’s, dark Brylcremed (?) hair, grinning widely at me, slightly bent at the waist and extending his left hand to me for me to accept. He must then realise something is wrong as his face changes to a look of alarm and he suddenly fades away.
I gallop downstairs and oddly, even though my Mum lives a short walk away, I stay in the house. Yeah, I don’t understand me either.
The evening progresses, it’s now around 7pm and it’s getting dark. Alarmingly there are now footsteps pacing at the top of the stairs. These are agitated, they take a few steps down the staircase, pause, go back up and commence pacing. Gradually they begin to take more steps down the stairs but always return to the landing. I’m frozen - I can’t see the stairs as the spindles have been panelled in but I know something is moving up there - this is not neighbour noise echoing through the walls. I’m now too scared to leave the house via the front door as I would need to walk past the stairs to get to the door and the back door just leads to the garden surrounded by 6ft fences.
I had two cats at the time. The smallest went wide-eyed, ran to the kitchen and practically threw herself through the cat flap. Her bigger sister however decided to investigate despite me trying to prevent her. She did that full down cat slink move, flat body flat ears stealth crawl and went up the stairs. To the right of the bathroom was a closed bedroom door and it was here the commotion started - my cat was now yowling and hissing at something, followed by clearly launching herself at something she could see as I could hear her paws and claws hitting the door. With a sudden loud yowl she came hurtling down the stairs, ran into the living room and hid under a bookcase - not moving for several hours. She was absolutely petrified. The footsteps on the landing however now stopped.
How on earth I went up to bed that night I don’t know, but bizarrely I did. Next day (Monday) the house felt heavy and oppressive when it usually felt bright. This happened Tue, Wed and Thursday mornings. On Friday I got up dreading the moment I’d step onto the landing and have the oppressive feeling hit me but it didn’t - the hallway was bright and felt light.
I got ready and went to work. As soon as I came out of the underground station my phone buzzed - it was my Mum, she’d been calling me trying to tell me that my Great Gran had taken a turn for the worse and we should all go to the hospital as it was likely she didn’t have much time left. It was now 08:30.
I rush to the hospital. It’s now around 10am and the curtain is pulled round Great Grans hospital bed. My Mum asks the head nurse if she can go in to see her Gran. The nurse exclaims “It might be distressing for you - she’s beginning to turn blue”. We’re like “I’m sorry what? How the hell can she be turning blue?”. Transpires she died shortly before 6am which is just before I got up for work yet someone at the hospital rang 8am telling us she was alive but nearing the end.
We’re standing there stunned, not knowing what to do when an elderly lady in the bed opposite my Great Grans calls out to us asking who we are, so we tell her. She then says “So who’s Ernie?” “Oh, that’s her husband but he died 8 years ago”. This little old lady then says that my Great Gran on the Sunday night started chatting quite clearly to her husband and then suddenly got distressed crying out “No Ernie, no, don’t go, don’t leave me, come back!”.
I froze as I realised that the man who reached a hand out to me on the Sunday evening was infact my Great Grandfather who must’ve come to ‘collect’ his poorly wife.
I have no sensible explanation for this, it’s not as if it was one simple thing that could be explained away - I mean even my two cats reacted to it and even now typing it out brings me out in goosebumps and makes my stomach do an odd shuddering gripping sensation. Truly the most alarming thing I’d ever experienced in that house.