Demonic House

62 3 2
                                    

I have lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma my entire life. At the age of eleven (approx. January 2000,) my family moved into a posh neighborhood in south Tulsa. Our new house was enormous. It was nothing my family ever imagined we could afford. The whole family was so excited!

The house was three stories tall with five bedrooms. The second floor was comprised of a long wood-floor hallway with four rooms connected. The fourth room at the end of the hall was the 3rd story game room. We considered it a third story because a small set of 10 steps sat just inside the threshold. We had such big plans for the game room.

My two little brothers and I had always slept in the same room before moving into the monster house. Naturally they picked the largest room upstairs for all three of us.

It seems like it takes an entire year after a big move before you feel like you've finally 'moved in.' I am sure anyone who has made a big move can attest to that. A year after our move I wanted to move into my own bedroom. I thought I was becoming 'more' mature. My parents were giving me more responsibility. I began helping my dad with yard work and babysitting my little brothers. I also began taking more responsibility for my faith in Jesus Christ. I studied the bible every night before I went to sleep. I felt like I was really growing-up and becoming a man. This is when the trouble started.

Out of the blue, my brothers began complaining of scary noises and dreams at night. They hated going upstairs by themselves. For weeks they begged my parents to let them sleep on their floor. I hadn't had any issues, so I thought they were being babies. Up to this point the game room turned into our Lego building room. We had tubs of Legos we would play with for hours. My brothers stopped building Legos in the game room because it was scary. I didn't know what they were talking about.

A couple more weeks down the road my I was babysitting my little brothers. We were hanging out in our parents' bed room watching TV. Their bedroom was situated directly under the game room. Late into the evening we started footsteps in the game room. I knew what I heard and tried to play it off to my little brothers as nothing unusual. I immediately knew someone had broken into the house. I got up and loaded my dad's shotgun in his closet. My brothers were crying. At this point the sounds of the footsteps were undeniable. I gave my little brother the phone and he called my parents to tell them what was going on. Then we decided to go confront the intruder. Running up the stairs, we burst into the game room with the shotgun. There wasn't anyone there. The timing for someone to escape would have been impossible. My heart dropped, because now I had to acknowledge my brothers' fears of the upstairs as legitimate.

In the following days I began to feel watched and unwelcome when I went upstairs. It is a strange feeling to describe. I especially felt these ominous feeling near the game room. It seemed to emanate unease.

One night I was closing my eyes and clearly felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I flipped around and of course no one was there. I was so scared. The upstairs continued to feel evil.

On another occasion I had just laid my head on my pillow when I clearly felt someone punch me in the stomach. I had a large bruise right in the middle of my stomach. Of course no one was there. I would spend most nights wishing I could just fall asleep. I would pray and read scripture until I fell asleep from exhaustion. I started to believe my house had a demon which possessed it. I would specifically pray for Jesus to send angels to surround my family and my house.

** Interesting note #1, when I skipped my daily prayer and scripture reading regiment I wouldn't have any negative experiences**

** Interesting note #2, I kept most of the experiences to myself for fear of ridicule**

A couple weeks later I let my new puppy outside. While waiting for him to take care of business I saw a featureless white silhouette. The figure seemed to be scanning the area. He seemed to see me and then promptly vanish. I grabbed my little puppy and ran.

This next experience is what confirms my belief of a demonic presence:

This takes place maybe a week after the white silhouette I saw outside. In the middle of the night I woke up for no apparent reason. I am usually a very deep sleeper. When something wakes me up I get curious to find the reason. I sat there quietly listening for whatever woke me up to repeat. I heard fairly loud footsteps directly outside my room on the wood floor. This noise was unmistakable. I assumed it was someone in my family checking on me or changing the temperature of the air conditioner. I got out of my bed to see who it was. As I got up, I could hear the footsteps walking away in the direction of the game room. I opened the door but no one was there... My heart sunk. I needed to go make sure it was a family member I had heard. I had snuck into my brothers' room. They were both obviously in deep sleep and hadn't just walked by my room. I then ran downstairs to check to see which of my parents had been upstairs... They were also obviously in deep sleep and hadn't been upstairs... I then tried to pretend I didn't hear any footsteps and I should try and fall back asleep. As I was walking to my room (the game room entrance directly behind me now) I heard the footsteps directly behind me.

I spun around to see only the dark game room door. Emanating from the dark a black mist with a face came at me. It had a face so evil and not human... I tried to scream "Be gone in the name of Jesus." However, it seemed to have a hold on my mouth. I was screaming those words in my head so loud. Finally it seemed to vanish as quickly as it had come. I stayed up all night reading my bible and praying.

Years later I reluctantly told my story to my brothers and to my surprise they shared very similar stories.

The experiences seemed to stop after months of intense prayer and petition. We continued to live in that house without any issues for 5 additional years. In fact, my parents seemed to have a couple strange experiences, but never shared that with us for fear of us wanting to move.

Texhoma Ghost StoriesWhere stories live. Discover now