User blog:*VampireGurl*/triplets demons ... A 3way story different time frames



When I was around 12 years old, my father got a new job, so we moved house to a different city, it was summer, when we moved in the new house, my father bought a pool and the day it was installed something woke me up in my sleep.

My bed was right under a window that opened sideway. My bedroom was in the basement. I went to bed early and fall asleep easy. When suddenly in the middle of the night, I felt like something was on me, enough for me to feel it when sleeping, I woke up, and as I opened my eyes, that thing was on me, imagine a huge lion or tiger, rip off the furs from his body, and you have a bloody cat-like creature, that thing was huge, as big as my single-place bed. I could see this creature's muscles and veins; the end of the tail was very demonic looking, like any normal folklore Satan picture. When I opened my eyes that thing stared at me, I could sense fear in his eyes, it screamed/roared and disappeared dissolving in smoke through the window and slammed it shut like I wasn't supposed to wake up from my sleep.

twilight zone travles  ....... a tad years later

this event happened at my 10th birthday party. I was so excited! I was just turning double digits! So of course I would have a party!

But the spirits didn't agree.

I always knew that they were there. I also had the vibe that they weren't negative spirits at all. They only wanted to be heard, and I was their friend. Like I was their light. They always told me that they were there because at night, I could see them, even in the dark! Some were demonic, though.

It all started when my mom was making smoothies. My friend had lost her shoe so she, another friend, and I went outside to go get it. It was getting really late, so we decided to hurry up and find it. Finally, I found it. It was by the corner of my house. (At the time, I lived at a house that had woods in front and back of it.) My other two friends came to see that I had found it, but they screamed. I looked up and my hair stood on end. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was gasp. In the woods was a huge black creature with horns and red eyes. It looked almost like a bull. Finally, I scream "RUN!" and we dashed away. Remembering the shoe, I turn to grab it. But less than three yards away was the creature, charging at me. So, I left the shoe and ran inside to join the others. So we calmed down and stated what had happened. Nobody believed us a bit.

Later on, I was in my room (across from my parents' room and diagonal from the bathroom) with the same two girls from before. We were talking when we heard the faucet in the bathroom turn on. Thinking that it was our friend, we told her to stop it and that we knew that it was her. But then she asked us what we were talking about, and that she wasn't in the bathroom, but the living room! We noticed that the bathroom was dark, and the water had just then stopped. Now we were really freaking out! I didn't want my guests to be scared enough to never come back again! So I, being the brave one, went in, turned on the light, and felt the sink to see if it was wet. To my surprise, it was! Nobody had been in there for quite a while, too. And later on, I was feeling that it was okay, that nobody would get hurt. It was the spirits telling me, I know it! I was amazed and overwhelmed at the notification.

twilight zone travels again theis might be a bit more creepy please dont be on the edge of your seat

this 2nd  time that I encountered something "supernatural", I was about seven years-old and faking sick so I could stay home from school because this kid who had been picking on me during recess.

So, there I am: Faux-sick and lounging on the sofa in my parents' living room when the sound of my mother  coming down the stairs filters in from the foyer. I quickly close my eyes, getting into character.

I hear my mother enter the den and shuffle around for a moment, gathering her things. The jingle of keys, the snap of a wallet. After a few more moments of shuffling, I hear the side door in the attached rec-room shut and then a car starting outside. I wait a few beats just to be safe and then open my eyes...

CREAK...

The sound comes from the attached rec-room I just mentioned, which is actually an add-on my father had converted from a two-car garage. The room is fully equipped with a wraparound sofa, a stocked bar, a closet full of G.I. Joes, and a large state-of - the-art stereo system circa-1991 ("Five CDs on a large rotating Frisbee? What decadent madness is this?!")

Though, right now my focus is on the toy closet. The only thing that divides the den and the rec-room is a four-inch carpeted drop and so I can see clearly across to the closet, which is built into the room's far-wall. And, to a 7 year-old paris"s wide-eyed amazement, I can see that the closet door is slowly opening.

I can't move. My eyes are fixed on the door as it casually swings open. This isn't a draft or overzealous hinges. Something is wrong here. I can feel it in my bones (just as clearly as I do now, years later as I type these words.)

"Is she gone?"

The voice is a distinct whisper, clear and yet somehow not right. The way it seems to hum on the last syllable of every word, sort of like the vibration you hear when a bass-note is played through an old amplifier. I can still hear that voice as clear as day in my memory. I wish couldn't. But I can. 

A friend that I confided in requested a sketch. The one on the left was the "pinch-er", which made the experience even more creepy. The first one leans out.

He's shorter than the doorknob and looks, for lack of a less ridiculous reference, like a humanoid puppet from the American children's show Sesame Street: fuzzy light pink "skin" with a shiny black "nose", big cartoonish eyes and a tuft of troll doll-like hair atop his football-shaped head.

The only difference is this little guy isn't being puppeted by anyone and his legs are clearly visible. Seven year-old me is so fascinated by this aspect that I am suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to get closer; to get a better look at this puppet-person. My fear takes a backseat to my childish curiosity as I begin to sit up.

Then comes the GRUNT...

What seems to be an affirmative response to the first puppet's question; this new voice brings me to a halt. If there was something vaguely creepy about the first one's tone, then this second one's voice is down-right disturbing. People don't sound like that. (Make the "uh-huh" sound without opening your mouth. Did it sound sort of like "mmm-hmmm"? Now imagine that sound but louder and with a bass-like hum to it.)

The first puppet exits the closet followed by his nearly-identical companion. The two of them are only visible for a moment as they hurry behind the rec-room's wraparound sofa.

Once again my fear subsides, giving way to curiosity. Trying my best not to make a sound, I slip down off of the den's sofa and slowly crawl across to the rec-room. The first puppet is now apparently bending over something behind the rec-room sofa and his little denim rear-end (they're both wearing faded grey denim overalls) is now poking out from behind the wrap-around couch.

I make my way across the rec-room, still on my hands and knees, following the long end of the wrap-around sofa over to where I can see the first puppet's butt poking out. I'm inches away when I finally stop crawling, too afraid to go any closer. I can't even bring myself to poke my head around the bend in the sofa. So instead I simply reach out and place a hand on the puppet's back, saying in a timid whisper "Hey..." boy was i crazy lol

The thing instantly whirls around, its big puppet eyes now glaring at me as I retract my hand. It leans around the corner of the sofa, bringing us face-to-face and I open my mouth to say something, though I'm not sure what it would've been.

The puppet darts out a hand and pinches my arm. HARD. Harder than I have ever been pinched before or since. Hard enough to break the skin on my forearm and inevitably cause a small scab to form.

Without a thought, I'm up and across to the side-door and then out onto the lawn where I wait for what feels like hours until my mother finally comes back. She starts to scold me as she exits the car, something about faking sick just so I could go outside and play... But then she sees my face.

At first, I don't want to tell her what took place. Even at seven years-old, I'm aware that these kinds of things just plane don't happen. But then she asks about the tiny smear of blood on my arm and I break down.

I tell her a condensed version of the story. I even admit to fake-sleeping earlier when she was leaving after my mother tries to insist that it was all nothing more than a bad dream brought on by the fever I had been faking all day. I don't admit to faking sick, of course (that would just be reckless.) So the conversation ends there, at least as far as my mother is concerned.

For me, though? To this day, it's still a constant debate. Am I simply crazy or did scary-ass puppet-people actually dwell in the toy-closet of my parent's rec-room? (I didn't say it was a logical debate.) I can remember weeks afterward sitting in class or wherever and looking at the scab on my arm and every time thinking: Oh yeah, that happened... That ACTUALLY happened.