Short Horror Stories

48. The man's spirit

Okay, so I’ll try to make this as short as possible, well to get the background, I’ve always been very open to paranormal things, and always been a firm believer. I had been friends with this guy, we’ll call him B, for a few years and he decided to start a paranormal group for our circle of believers.

So B, myself and 2 other people started looking into the history of his house because of all the things that had happened over the years there and turns out its one of the oldest houses in our city, and there have been 3 deaths there. The worst was a double death, a woman left her husband and took her 3-year-old daughter and moved into this house, and her (ex)husband ended up accidentally shooting the daughter trying to shoot the wife, then turned the gun on his self.

We have all seen what looked like the silhouette of a small child but never knew the story until then. So we’re sitting in the room we normally see the little girl at with EVP recorders and such, trying to catch anything we can, and another one of the group members starts bad-mouthing and just straight out provoking the spirit, even tho we had agreed not to. He gets hit from behind and has what looked like a fist print on his side.

B and myself had decided to call off the investigation because we didn’t want to fool around with an angry spirit. So we all stood up and went to leave the room, I was the last one out and thought I felt someone, I guess the best way to describe it is, caress a piece of my hair. As soon as I got to the doorway, I thought I saw what looked like a black silhouette of a man but he had more or less a dark red-ish aura around him, I personally don’t remember anything after seeing him.

The way B told me the story is I just stopped abruptly and stared into the hallway, then looked at everyone looking at me and took off running down the stairs. I had gotten to the door leading outside and B caught up with me and grabbed me asking if I was alright and my eyes were just dull, I wouldn’t speak to him. So he tried to lead me to the couch and sit down and I wouldn’t go back into the house I just kept trying to get by him to go outside, never saying a word. So he got really worried and attempted to pick me up and take me to the couch. B said I grabbed the back of his neck and dug my nails in, scratching down his neck and around to his collarbone, as I was doing this I said “you can’t make me stay here any longer, I didn’t mean to, I just want to leave!” And I pushed past him, pretty much ran outside and collapsed right as I stepped off the porch.

I know it sounds super crazy, but I think the man’s spirit was stuck on the house, and me being as open as I am, I think I was used as pretty much a vessel for him to get out of where he had been stuck since death.