Ghost Tales From Everyday People

[IbisNibs]

Is it a common Irish name? The gentleman himself would probably know. All I could find out is that it's not listed here: http://www.irishidentity.com/folk.htm
However there are a several sites (plagiarizing from the same source) that delve into the definitions and popularity of Turlough as a baby name : https://babynames.com/name/turlough

 

[maximus otter]

I remember Dr Who having a companion called Turlough. It was the first time I'd ever heard or seen the name. This is just the second. Is it a common Irish name?

There’s a legendary - in folk circles - Irish harper of the late 17th/early 18th century called Turlough O’Carolan.

l have several of his compositions (as played by modern folk bands) on my iPod, e.g.:

“As a young man Carolan first found favor at the house of his first patron, Squire George Reynolds of Lough Scur at Letterfain, Co. Leitrim (himself a harper and poet). It is said that Carolan was at this time only moderately skilled at the harp and the Squire advised him to direct his talents to composing, as he “might make a better fist of his tongue than his fingers.” It is likely this was Carolan’s first attempt at composition.

His inspiration was a story told to him by Reynolds of Si Bheag and Si Mhor, two ranges of hills near Lough Scur, that according to local lore were the seats of two groups of fairies of opposing disposition. The these hosts engaged in a great battle, in which Finn McCool and his Fianna were defeated.

Some versions of the legend relate that the mounds were topped by ancient ruins, with fairy castles underneath where heros were entombed after the battle between the two rivals. Squire Reynolds is supposed to have been much pleased by the composition.

The ‘fairy mounds’ appear to have been ancient conical heaps of stones and earth called motes or raths, prehistoric remnants.”

https://www.ibiblio.org/fiddlers/SIA_SIO.htm

maximus otter

 

[catseye]

Is it a common Irish name? The gentleman himself would probably know. All I could find out is that it's not listed here: http://www.irishidentity.com/folk.htm
However there are a several sites (plagiarizing from the same source) that delve into the definitions and popularity of Turlough as a baby name : https://babynames.com/name/turlough

I wonder if it's a bastardised Anglicised spelling of a different name which might be pronounced a little like Turlough. Just as Teague is now becoming an actual name in its own right... sigh.

 

[Giant R]

I was helping someone out doing some work at a school a couple of weeks ago and, having finished in one particular room, I got my 'Henry' hoover out to vacuum the floor. I always pull out quite a bit of the cable before starting as the cable gets warm if still on the reel. I plugged it into an adjacent wall socket and began to vacuum the short section of carpet tiles nearby. I had my back to the socket and within a few seconds of starting, the vac stopped. I looked around and the plug was lying on the floor.
There was only the two of us working in the school (it was half term) and at first I thought my mate had unplugged it for a laugh but the school is a kind of 'U' shape and glancing out of the window I saw him walking out of the main hall into the playground a few hundred yards away.
It was quite baffling and I couldn't quite believe it -I tried the plug in the socket again to see if it was unusually loose but it felt normal and needed a bit of a tug to get it out. I also wondered if I had somehow caught the cable with my foot (although I hadn't felt anything) and pulled it out, so tried this from different angles but no chance, also with so much cable pulled out from the machine there was plenty of slack plus I was only about 2m at most away from the socket and to the right of it when it came out. I even wondered if I hadn't pushed the plug right in and tested that but it wouldn't work at all then. Quite weird! I wasn't vacuuming directly away from the socket either but at right angles to it so I would have been more likely to pull the cable from the plug if I had caught it with my foot, which I was certain I hadn't anyway.

Further to this earlier post of mine. I went back recently and was talking to someone about this and she said that a few people working there reckon it is haunted. She told me that one morning last summer she had arrived early with another teacher, around 7.30 am and they were the first there. They have those pull down blinds which are closed every night in all the windows. As they got out of their car and walked towards the classroom next to the one I had the plug experience in they both saw one of the blinds lift right up as if someone was looking out.
They were both too scared to go in then and waited in the car until some other staff had arrived.
Obviously, it is a school so I don't want to give the name or location but I will certainly try and find out more when I can. Interestingly, the main part of the school is Victorian, which you would imagine would be the haunted bit but the classes where these things happened are 1960s extensions.

 

[catseye]

I went over to see Old John yesterday. He was telling me that he thinks his place is haunted. It's a very very old farmworker's cottage - not sure of how old, I can't manage to find any details of who lived there before. But when he's upstairs he keeps hearing almightly crashing noises, as though whole plate cupboards have fallen over, but when he comes downstairs all is as it should be. He also thinks he can hear a dog bark, when there are no dogs about the place.

Despite being largely disabled and housebound, his hearing is pretty ok. I DO know that the house had a rat infestation fairly recently (honestly, the place is a health hazard...) so I did suggest that some of the noises could be rats in the cupboards, but he says not. I've heard about these 'crashing sounds' before in haunted house incidents too.

 

[Ronnie Jersey]

I found my old post about a building I worked in, it sounds unbelievable but is absolutely true:

Some years back I had a bookkeeping position at a small construction company, the former bookkeeper was retiring after many years there and stayed on for a week to get me started. When she left, as she walked out the door she told me, "You'll notice some strange things happening here, it's just an old building."
Well, I had no idea what she meant. I started early in the morning, 6:00 a.m., and left early. When I got there the guys were leaving to go out on jobs and I was alone in the office, a small 2 story building, with a door leading to the warehouse with all their supplies and equipment. The other woman came in at 8:30 a.m. and she worked upstairs. And the owners were out most of the time attending meetings and checking job sites, they were very busy.
When the guys left early in the morning, they always locked the front door behind them, as I was alone in the office. But I repeatedly saw men out in the lobby through the sliding glass window there, and just thought they had returned to pick up more supplies. There seemed to be one man always hanging around inside and outside, I saw him clearly many times. Imagine my surprise when the owner told me that the workers were on a job in another state, and hadn't returned to the office at all. Which happened frequently.
One afternoon the woman upstairs told me she was going out for lunch, but shortly afterward I heard a horrendous racket coming from upstairs, as if all the furniture was being moved and re-arranged. I couldn't wait until she returned, we ran upstairs and nothing had moved, all the furniture was in the same location as before, I couldn't believe it.
Thankfully the owners left their dogs with me during the daytime, one big Lab and one little poodle, who often growled and barked at the warehouse door, but helped me feel safer. The little poodle was barking non-stop one morning, so I took her outside, thinking she had to tinkle - well she ran to the closed warehouse door growling like never before - but I knew for a fact that no one else was in the building, all the doors were locked. Just then I could hear the flush of the toilet in the warehouse, just beyond the closed door. I grabbed the dog and ran for the office, locking the door behind me, never been so frightened in my life.
After that I asked the owner what was going on in that building - he laughed and told me that one night he had to sleep on the office sofa on the first floor because a foot of snow had fallen and he couldn't get home. He woke up late at night to a party going on on the second floor, so he grabbed a baseball bat and ran upstairs, thinking someone had broken into the building. No one was there, no lights were on, he was stunned. So he believed me, and told me that many peculiar things had happened there over the years.
Well, one day the town fire department official came to do their annual inspection, and we got to talking about this old building - he said that back in the 1940's, it had been a 'bordello' - LOL! I assumed the man I saw constantly outside / inside must have been a customer!
Anyway, that business eventually closed down - on my last day, as I pulled out of the parking lot, in my side view mirror I saw that same man standing there behind my car. I quickly got out to speak with him - but there was no one there.
I did take 2 photos inside that building, I'll have to see if I can find them.

As a postscript, the company who bought that old building wanted to interview me for a job there - but there was no way I was going back there!

 

[Robbrent]

I found my old post about a building I worked in, it sounds unbelievable but is absolutely true:

"Some years back I had a bookkeeping position at a small construction company, the former bookkeeper was retiring after many years there and stayed on for a week to get me started. When she left, as she walked out the door she told me, "You'll notice some strange things happening here, it's just an old building."
Well, I had no idea what she meant. I started early in the morning, 6:00 a.m., and left early in the afternoon. When I got there the guys were leaving to go out on jobs and I was alone in the office, a small 2 story building, with a door leading to the warehouse out back with all their supplies and equipment. The other woman came in at 8:30 a.m. and she worked upstairs. And the owners were out most of the time attending meetings and checking job sites, they were very busy.
When the guys left early in the morning, they always locked the front door behind them, as I was alone in the office. But I repeatedly saw men out in the lobby through the sliding glass window there, and just thought they had returned to pick up more supplies. There seemed to be one man always hanging around inside and outside, I saw him clearly many times. He was always wearing the same thing - denim jacket with brown leather collar, jeans, and boots. And he had short brown hair. Imagine my surprise when the owner told me that the workers were on a job in another state, and hadn't returned to the office at all. Which happened frequently.
One afternoon the woman upstairs told me she was going out for lunch, but shortly afterward I heard a horrendous racket coming from upstairs, as if all the furniture was being moved and re-arranged. I couldn't wait until she returned, we ran upstairs and nothing had moved, all the furniture was in the same location as before, I couldn't believe it.
Thankfully the owners left their dogs with me during the daytime, one big Lab and one little poodle, who often growled and barked at the warehouse door, but helped me feel safer. The little poodle was barking non-stop one morning, so I took her outside, thinking she had to tinkle - well she ran to the closed warehouse door growling like never before - but I knew for a fact that no one else was in the building, all the doors were locked. Just then I could hear the flush of the toilet in the warehouse, just beyond the closed door. I grabbed the dog and ran for the office, locking the door behind me, never been so frightened in my life.
After that I asked the owner what was going on in that building - he laughed and told me that one night he had to sleep on the office sofa on the first floor because a foot of snow had fallen and he couldn't get home. He woke up late at night to a party going on on the second floor, so he grabbed a baseball bat and ran upstairs, thinking someone had broken into the building. No one was there, no lights were on, he was stunned. So he believed me, and told me that many peculiar things had happened there over the years.
Well, one day the town fire department official came to do their annual inspection, and we got to talking about this old building - he said that back in the 1940's, it had been a 'bordello' - LOL! I assumed the man I saw constantly outside / inside must have been a customer!
Anyway, that business eventually closed down, and I believe the owner was happy to be out of that building. On my last day, as I pulled out of the parking lot, in my side view mirror I saw that same man standing there behind my car. I quickly got out to speak with him - but there was no one there."

As a postscript, the company who bought that old building wanted to interview me for a job there - but there was no way I was going back there!

Interesting, it sounds like a timeslip, constantly slipping back to a certain time or emotionally charged event that has been forever seared in the landscape

 

[escargot]

I went over to see Old John yesterday. He was telling me that he thinks his place is haunted. It's a very very old farmworker's cottage - not sure of how old, I can't manage to find any details of who lived there before. But when he's upstairs he keeps hearing almightly crashing noises, as though whole plate cupboards have fallen over, but when he comes downstairs all is as it should be. He also thinks he can hear a dog bark, when there are no dogs about the place.

Despite being largely disabled and housebound, his hearing is pretty ok. I DO know that the house had a rat infestation fairly recently (honestly, the place is a health hazard...) so I did suggest that some of the noises could be rats in the cupboards, but he says not. I've heard about these 'crashing sounds' before in haunted house incidents too.

When I worked at the rather lively gym, crashing sounds were often heard when it was empty and quiet.
I sometimes wondered if the noise went on at busy times too but wasn't heard over the regular din.
Any loud thud heard overhead could be taken for some clown upstairs dropping a big weight.

 

[catseye]

When I worked at the rather lively gym, crashing sounds were often heard when it was empty and quiet.
I sometimes wondered if the noise went on at busy times too but wasn't heard over the regular din.
Any loud thud heard overhead could be taken for some clown upstairs dropping a big weight.

Y'see, with John I'd like to assume that he's right, but he seems to lack a certain...awareness of things. I did ask him if he thought the noises could be coming from next door (his cottage is in a terrace of several others, all the same age), but it really hadn't entered his head that, just because he was in bed and it was late at night, it didn't necessarily follow that everyone else would be in bed asleep.

I am reserving judgement though. There could be something supernatural at work or it could just be that his most recent stroke has affected something inside his brain (at my last visit he was telling me how he has almost no peripheral vision. When I told him he shouldn't be driving, he said 'oh, it doesn't affect my driving at all!' Hmmmm. I'd report him to DVLA if it weren't for the fact that he now rarely drives anywhere.)

 

[Fanari_Lloyd]

I've heard about these 'crashing sounds' before in haunted house incidents too.

I’ve read or been told of this fairly often, too. There’s never anything obviously out of place. i.e. the place next door to where I worked which we all did think was haunted. They had a cellar where camera equipment was stored, expensive stuff and the director, alone there one day heard these almighty crashes as if all the equipment had been hurled off its shelves. He found nothing and checked our company (nothing) hand the little shop next door (nothing). The back of the building was completely walled (which might account for the fact that it felt so quiet in there, despite the road outside) and couldn’t be accessed and he swore that the sound had come from the cellar nowhere else. No doubt sometimes there really is something that has physically fallen and crashed but other times…?

 

[Ronnie Jersey]

Interesting, it sounds like a timeslip, constantly slipping back to a certain time or emotionally charged event that has been forever seared in the landscape

Absolutely, that's what it was like to me. All those people were continuing the party!

 

[Paul_Exeter]

I found my old post about a building I worked in, it sounds unbelievable but is absolutely true:

"Some years back I had a bookkeeping position at a small construction company, the former bookkeeper was retiring after many years there and stayed on for a week to get me started. When she left, as she walked out the door she told me, "You'll notice some strange things happening here, it's just an old building."
Well, I had no idea what she meant. I started early in the morning, 6:00 a.m., and left early in the afternoon. When I got there the guys were leaving to go out on jobs and I was alone in the office, a small 2 story building, with a door leading to the warehouse out back with all their supplies and equipment. The other woman came in at 8:30 a.m. and she worked upstairs. And the owners were out most of the time attending meetings and checking job sites, they were very busy.
When the guys left early in the morning, they always locked the front door behind them, as I was alone in the office. But I repeatedly saw men out in the lobby through the sliding glass window there, and just thought they had returned to pick up more supplies. There seemed to be one man always hanging around inside and outside, I saw him clearly many times. He was always wearing the same thing - denim jacket with brown leather collar, jeans, and boots. And he had short brown hair. Imagine my surprise when the owner told me that the workers were on a job in another state, and hadn't returned to the office at all. Which happened frequently.
One afternoon the woman upstairs told me she was going out for lunch, but shortly afterward I heard a horrendous racket coming from upstairs, as if all the furniture was being moved and re-arranged. I couldn't wait until she returned, we ran upstairs and nothing had moved, all the furniture was in the same location as before, I couldn't believe it.
Thankfully the owners left their dogs with me during the daytime, one big Lab and one little poodle, who often growled and barked at the warehouse door, but helped me feel safer. The little poodle was barking non-stop one morning, so I took her outside, thinking she had to tinkle - well she ran to the closed warehouse door growling like never before - but I knew for a fact that no one else was in the building, all the doors were locked. Just then I could hear the flush of the toilet in the warehouse, just beyond the closed door. I grabbed the dog and ran for the office, locking the door behind me, never been so frightened in my life.
After that I asked the owner what was going on in that building - he laughed and told me that one night he had to sleep on the office sofa on the first floor because a foot of snow had fallen and he couldn't get home. He woke up late at night to a party going on on the second floor, so he grabbed a baseball bat and ran upstairs, thinking someone had broken into the building. No one was there, no lights were on, he was stunned. So he believed me, and told me that many peculiar things had happened there over the years.
Well, one day the town fire department official came to do their annual inspection, and we got to talking about this old building - he said that back in the 1940's, it had been a 'bordello' - LOL! I assumed the man I saw constantly outside / inside must have been a customer!
Anyway, that business eventually closed down, and I believe the owner was happy to be out of that building. On my last day, as I pulled out of the parking lot, in my side view mirror I saw that same man standing there behind my car. I quickly got out to speak with him - but there was no one there."

As a postscript, the company who bought that old building wanted to interview me for a job there - but there was no way I was going back there!

Thank you for posting this fascinating account of your experiences

 

[Sabresonic]

Thank you for posting this fascinating account of your experiences

Sounds like something out of Sixth Sense.

 

[Paul_Exeter]

Sounds like something out of Sixth Sense.

Please don't tell me the ending...

 

[Sabresonic]

Please don't tell me the ending...

You haven't seen it ?

 

[CharmerKamelion]

You haven't seen it ?

Haha! I finally got around to watching "The Sixth Sense" for the first time last weekend. Been putting it off for years, I suppose because I knew how things pan out. I like spooky films, so by rights I ought to have seen it when it was first released. I've seen a few other films by M. Night Shyamalan over the years ("Signs" and "The Happening" spring to mind) and they are 'usually unusual' and worth seeing. Jordan Peele (who did "Get Out", "Us" and "Nope") seems to have developed a 'similarly different' style.

 

[Sabresonic]

Haha! I finally got around to watching "The Sixth Sense" for the first time last weekend. Been putting it off for years, I suppose because I knew how things pan out. I like spooky films, so by rights I ought to have seen it when it was first released. I've seen a few other films by M. Night Shyamalan over the years ("Signs" and "The Happening" spring to mind) and they are 'usually unusual' and worth seeing. Jordan Peele (who did "Get Out", "Us" and "Nope") seems to have developed a 'similarly different' style.

I check them out thank you

 

[Floyd]

Haha! I finally got around to watching "The Sixth Sense" for the first time last weekend. Been putting it off for years, I suppose because I knew how things pan out. I like spooky films, so by rights I ought to have seen it when it was first released. I've seen a few other films by M. Night Shyamalan over the years ("Signs" and "The Happening" spring to mind) and they are 'usually unusual' and worth seeing. Jordan Peele (who did "Get Out", "Us" and "Nope") seems to have developed a 'similarly different' style.

The day after I first saw it I came home and walked into the dining room to see a chair 'wobbling' about by itself. For a terrifying 2-3 seconds I nearly had an accident- then saw our (new) pup emerge from beneath said chair legs.

 

[blessmycottonsocks]

Haha! I finally got around to watching "The Sixth Sense" for the first time last weekend. Been putting it off for years, I suppose because I knew how things pan out. I like spooky films, so by rights I ought to have seen it when it was first released. I've seen a few other films by M. Night Shyamalan over the years ("Signs" and "The Happening" spring to mind) and they are 'usually unusual' and worth seeing. Jordan Peele (who did "Get Out", "Us" and "Nope") seems to have developed a 'similarly different' style.

Surely most people got the rather telegraphed twist in the Sixth Sense?

 

[CharmerKamelion]

Surely most people got the rather telegraphed twist in the Sixth Sense?

I had been told, quite early on, what the twist was, which was probably why I took so long to bother getting around to watching it. Obviously when I did finally watch it I was watching it all the way through aware of what was going on and wishing I didn't know where it was heading, so I could have seen it through an 'unspoilered' filter. The friend I was watching it with didn't know the twist (probably the last person on Earth who didn't know) so I was careful not to give anything away and quite fun to monitor his reactions. In the end he seemed a bit underwhelmed. Not his kind of thing. Personally, I quite liked the film. I admired the lack of sensationalism. It's kept quite low-key and is more effective as a result.

 

[catseye]

Surely most people got the rather telegraphed twist in the Sixth Sense?

I came slightly later to Sixth Sense (in that it had already been out in cinemas for a while when I got round to watching it). But SO MANY people had told me that there was this amazing twist in it, although nobody gave it away, that, knowing what the storyline was, I had reasoned that it could really only be that one thing. And I was right.

Still a good film though, even if you go in already knowing - or in my case, suspecting - the twist.

 

[LymeswoldSnork]

Never seen it, but I don't need to after this:

 

[Tunn11]

Off topic and probably a re post but do you know what The films Titanic and the Sixth Sense have in common?

Spoiler

Icy dead people

 

[Spookdaddy]

The following sounds like part of the pitch for a modern horror movie – when I was writing it down I couldn’t help imagining a Ben Wheatley tone applied to every aspect.

My friend told me his tale during a longish car journey up to Sheffield. He’s a funny and entertaining gay man: no spring chicken but still of a (how shall I put this) adventurous nature; Julian and Sandy would have called it ‘questing’. I mention this only because when he started to tell me the story I thought we were in for another riotous description of the jolly scrapes he’d managed to get himself into at the weekend. He’s open and unabashed and – as I said – very funny (think George Melly’s boisterous autobiographies – that’s the feel) - so, when the tone immediately darkened, and it clearly took some thought and a bit of a leap to describe his experience, I knew I was in for something different, and sat up and took notice.

---

A work colleague of mine owned a place in the Woodhouse area of Sheffield. He'd bought the house at a very busy period in his life, and had rushed into purchasing the property. Which he later regretted.

The property was not particularly large, not particularly old – and on a busy road. Once he’d actually moved in, he straightaway took a dislike to the feel of the place; a dislike which increased rapidly as he settled in (or not – as the case may be).

Initially, the unease was based on a vague but increasingly pervasive feeling that someone else was in the house with him. This was not based on anything particularly dramatic, but rather a general sort of low level interference: stuff on kitchen countertops would appear to have moved by a few inches; soft scuffing sounds, rather than distinct footsteps; light taps, rather than loud rapping sounds – all kinds of stuff that could easily be explained away in isolation, but which accumulated to an extent that the result was as powerful as much more dramatic individual events might have been.

Unease developed into a kind of dread, to the point where at night – when watching TV or working on his laptop – he felt that there was someone in the room with him, very close by. At it's most extreme he would be overtaken by the conviction that someone was actually sitting at on the other end of the sofa from him. This was a conviction so powerful that he found he could not turn around and look – but would get up and leave the room with eyes fixed on a spot away from the focus of his fear.

Cut to a few months after these events began.

On a dark, wet, late autumn afternoon my colleague is transferring his shopping from the boot of the car to his house. His ancient and beloved German shepherd is lolling on the back seat. As he’s lifting the last bags out of the car, he turns to find himself facing three figures, one of whom waves a knife at him and tells him to get in the house. When he hesitates, one of the other figures pulls the dog out of the car and threatens it with a crowbar. At which point my friend complies.

He finds himself shut in his house with three twitchily aggressive armed strangers. He’s forced to empty his wallet, and give up all the cash and valuables in the house. He’s then ordered to hand over the pin codes for his debit and credit cards, at which point two of the attackers leave – heading for the nearest cashpoints, the third remaining to watch over my friend.

Clearly, this would be a frightening situation at the best of times. But the sentry, nervous to start with, becomes more and more agitated as the minutes tick by, eventually jumping out of his chair and rushing into the hallway. The lone attacker had become convinced that someone else was in the house with them. It wasn’t simply that he simply felt there was someone there - he’d actually seen them creep past the open sitting room door and walk up the stairs. He shouts at my friend - demanding to know who's in the house with them - and not getting an answer, rushes up the stairs and through the upstairs rooms with his crowbar, shouting and banging doors.

Of course, there’s no one there.

So, my colleague now finds himself alone in a house he believes to be home to something not very nice, with an increasingly hysterical armed man who is convinced that someone else is in the place with them. Clearly an awful scenario for anyone to find themselves in.

After a bit more shouting and waving of the crowbar, there's a moment's silent pause - at which point a soft bump comes from upstairs. (Imagine the sound of a tightly rolled up duvet falling off the top of a wardrobe - which is what my colleague thought it possibly might have been; although he didn't seem particularly convinced of that - and would never find out.) It's at this point that, fortunately - and possibly reasonably - the attacker bottled it, and ran out into the night. At which point my friend calmly puts the lead on his dog walks out onto the drive and rings the police.

He never sets foot in the house again. (Literally never. He crashed with his business partner and his wife from that night onwards - they also shut down the property for him and cleared the contents when it was sold.)

He moved to another area of Sheffield, but retained many local friends and connections. During a visit to his old local boozer – some time after the events described – he was told by a couple of tegulars that it was well known that the house was unlucky, but that no-one had wanted to worry him. The words used were something along the lines of:

“The one before you. She’s in prison. They say she choked her own baby on a pair of gloves. But it didn’t start with her.”

 

[Who me]

WOW spook daddy utterly terrifying on both counts the paranormal and the physical threat

 

[escargot]

The following sounds like part of the pitch for a modern horror movie – when I was writing it down I couldn’t help imagining a Ben Wheatley tone applied to every aspect.

My friend told me his tale during a longish car journey up to Sheffield. He’s a funny and entertaining gay man: no spring chicken but still of a (how shall I put this) adventurous nature; Julian and Sandy would have called it ‘questing’. I mention this only because when he started to tell me the story I thought we were in for another riotous description of the jolly scrapes he’d managed to get himself into at the weekend. He’s open and unabashed and – as I said – very funny (think George Melly’s boisterous autobiographies – that’s the feel) - so, when the tone immediately darkened, and it clearly took some thought and a bit of a leap to describe his experience, I knew I was in for something different, and sat up and took notice.

---

A work colleague of mine owned a place in the Woodhouse area of Sheffield. He'd bought the house at a very busy period in his life, and had rushed into purchasing the property. Which he later regretted.

The property was not particularly large, not particularly old – and on a busy road. Once he’d actually moved in, he straightaway took a dislike to the feel of the place; a dislike which increased rapidly as he settled in (or not – as the case may be).

Initially, the unease was based on a vague but increasingly pervasive feeling that someone else was in the house with him. This was not based on anything particularly dramatic, but rather a general sort of low level interference: stuff moved on kitchen countertops by a few inches; soft scuffing sounds, rather than distinct footsteps; light taps, rather than loud rapping sounds – all kinds of stuff that could easily be explained away in isolation, but which accumulated to an extent that the result was as powerful as much more dramatic individual events might have been.

Unease developed into a kind of dread, to the point where at night – when watching TV or working on his laptop – he felt that there was someone in the room with him, very close by. At it's most extreme he would be overtaken by the conviction that someone was actually sitting at on the other end of the sofa from him. This was a conviction so powerful that he found he could not turn around and look – but would get up and leave the room with eyes fixed on a spot away from the focus of his fear.

Cut to a few months after these events began.

On a dark, wet, late autumn afternoon my colleague is transferring his shopping from the boot of the car to his house. His ancient and beloved German shepherd is lolling on the back seat. As he’s lifting the last bags out of the car, he turns to find himself facing three figures, one of whom waves a knife at him and tells him to get in the house. When he hesitates, one of the other figures pulls the dog out of the car and threatens it with a crowbar. At which point my friend complies.

He finds himself shut in his house with three twitchily aggressive armed strangers. He’s forced to empty his wallet, and give up all the cash and valuables in the house. He’s then ordered to hand over the pin codes for his debit and credit cards, at which point two of the attackers leave – heading for the nearest cashpoints, the third remaining to watch over my friend.

Clearly, this would be a frightening situation at the best of times. But the sentry, nervous to start with, becomes more and more agitated as the minutes tick by, eventually jumping out of his chair and rushing into the hallway. The lone attacker had become convinced that someone else was in the house with them. It wasn’t simply that he simply felt there was someone there - he’d actually seen them creep past the open sitting room door and walk up the stairs. He shouts at my friend - demanding to know who's in the house with them - and not getting an answer, rushes up the stairs and through the upstairs rooms with his crowbar, shouting and banging doors.

Of course, there’s no one there.

So, my colleague now finds himself alone in a house he believes to be home to something not very nice, with an increasingly hysterical armed man who is convinced that someone else is in the place with them. Clearly an awful scenario for anyone to find themselves in.

After a bit more shouting and waving of the crowbar, there's a moment's silent pause - at which point a soft bump comes from upstairs. (Imagine the sound of a tightly rolled up duvet falling off the top of a wardrobe - which is what my colleague thought it possibly might have been; although he didn't seem particularly convinced of that - and would never find out.) It's at this point that, fortunately - and possibly reasonably - the attacker bottled it, and ran out into the night. At which point my friend calmly puts the lead on his dog walks out onto the drive and rings the police.

He never sets foot in the house again. (Literally never. He crashed with his business partner and his wife from that night onwards - they also shut down the property for him and cleared the contents when it was sold.)

He moved to another area of Sheffield, but retained many local friends and connections. During a visit to his old local boozer – some time after the events described – he was told by a couple of tegulars that it was well known that the house was unlucky, but that no-one had wanted to worry him. The words used were something along the lines of:

“The one before you. She’s in prison. They say she choked her own baby on a pair of gloves. But it didn’t start with her.”

Fantastic. What a cracking story.

Have to say, I'd buy that house and bring @Swifty and co. to investigate it.

He never sets foot in the house again. (Literally never. He crashed with his business partner and his wife from that night onwards - they also shut down the property for him and cleared the contents when it was sold.)

The couple who cleared the house, I wonder if they were also spooked?

The sentry was WELL rattled. Wonder why the presence decided to scare him, when he was doing its frightening the occupant job so well for it?

My home is known locally as the 'unlucky house'. It's sometimes lively but has no dramatic history.

 

[staticgirl]

The sentry was WELL rattled. Wonder why the presence decided to scare him, when he was doing its frightening the occupant job so well for it?

Professional jealousy?

 

[Spookdaddy]

Fantastic. What a cracking story.

Have to say, I'd buy that house and bring @Swifty and co. to investigate it....

Hmm. Not so sure I'd be as enthusiastic. I love a bit of uncanny - but when uncanny edges towards unwholesome I might take a pass. And that's the impression I got from my friend - this was not just odd, but really quite nasty. I could see, when he told me the story, that this thing had deeply affected him - his normal sunny and irrepressible nature being eclipsed by something very dark, even when simply recalling the experiences.

...The couple who cleared the house, I wonder if they were also spooked?...

Actually, that's an obvious question that I never thought to ask. He didn't mention anything like that.

...The sentry was WELL rattled. Wonder why the presence decided to scare him, when he was doing its frightening the occupant job so well for it?...

I get the feeling that - at least towards the end - the alleged thing had become, in my friend's mind, a constant presence rather than an occasional event. My impression is that it didn't much care who was around - everyone was fair game.

 

[catseye]

The following sounds like part of the pitch for a modern horror movie – when I was writing it down I couldn’t help imagining a Ben Wheatley tone applied to every aspect.

My friend told me his tale during a longish car journey up to Sheffield. He’s a funny and entertaining gay man: no spring chicken but still of a (how shall I put this) adventurous nature; Julian and Sandy would have called it ‘questing’. I mention this only because when he started to tell me the story I thought we were in for another riotous description of the jolly scrapes he’d managed to get himself into at the weekend. He’s open and unabashed and – as I said – very funny (think George Melly’s boisterous autobiographies – that’s the feel) - so, when the tone immediately darkened, and it clearly took some thought and a bit of a leap to describe his experience, I knew I was in for something different, and sat up and took notice.

---

A work colleague of mine owned a place in the Woodhouse area of Sheffield. He'd bought the house at a very busy period in his life, and had rushed into purchasing the property. Which he later regretted.

The property was not particularly large, not particularly old – and on a busy road. Once he’d actually moved in, he straightaway took a dislike to the feel of the place; a dislike which increased rapidly as he settled in (or not – as the case may be).

Initially, the unease was based on a vague but increasingly pervasive feeling that someone else was in the house with him. This was not based on anything particularly dramatic, but rather a general sort of low level interference: stuff moved on kitchen countertops by a few inches; soft scuffing sounds, rather than distinct footsteps; light taps, rather than loud rapping sounds – all kinds of stuff that could easily be explained away in isolation, but which accumulated to an extent that the result was as powerful as much more dramatic individual events might have been.

Unease developed into a kind of dread, to the point where at night – when watching TV or working on his laptop – he felt that there was someone in the room with him, very close by. At it's most extreme he would be overtaken by the conviction that someone was actually sitting at on the other end of the sofa from him. This was a conviction so powerful that he found he could not turn around and look – but would get up and leave the room with eyes fixed on a spot away from the focus of his fear.

Cut to a few months after these events began.

On a dark, wet, late autumn afternoon my colleague is transferring his shopping from the boot of the car to his house. His ancient and beloved German shepherd is lolling on the back seat. As he’s lifting the last bags out of the car, he turns to find himself facing three figures, one of whom waves a knife at him and tells him to get in the house. When he hesitates, one of the other figures pulls the dog out of the car and threatens it with a crowbar. At which point my friend complies.

He finds himself shut in his house with three twitchily aggressive armed strangers. He’s forced to empty his wallet, and give up all the cash and valuables in the house. He’s then ordered to hand over the pin codes for his debit and credit cards, at which point two of the attackers leave – heading for the nearest cashpoints, the third remaining to watch over my friend.

Clearly, this would be a frightening situation at the best of times. But the sentry, nervous to start with, becomes more and more agitated as the minutes tick by, eventually jumping out of his chair and rushing into the hallway. The lone attacker had become convinced that someone else was in the house with them. It wasn’t simply that he simply felt there was someone there - he’d actually seen them creep past the open sitting room door and walk up the stairs. He shouts at my friend - demanding to know who's in the house with them - and not getting an answer, rushes up the stairs and through the upstairs rooms with his crowbar, shouting and banging doors.

Of course, there’s no one there.

So, my colleague now finds himself alone in a house he believes to be home to something not very nice, with an increasingly hysterical armed man who is convinced that someone else is in the place with them. Clearly an awful scenario for anyone to find themselves in.

After a bit more shouting and waving of the crowbar, there's a moment's silent pause - at which point a soft bump comes from upstairs. (Imagine the sound of a tightly rolled up duvet falling off the top of a wardrobe - which is what my colleague thought it possibly might have been; although he didn't seem particularly convinced of that - and would never find out.) It's at this point that, fortunately - and possibly reasonably - the attacker bottled it, and ran out into the night. At which point my friend calmly puts the lead on his dog walks out onto the drive and rings the police.

He never sets foot in the house again. (Literally never. He crashed with his business partner and his wife from that night onwards - they also shut down the property for him and cleared the contents when it was sold.)

He moved to another area of Sheffield, but retained many local friends and connections. During a visit to his old local boozer – some time after the events described – he was told by a couple of tegulars that it was well known that the house was unlucky, but that no-one had wanted to worry him. The words used were something along the lines of:

“The one before you. She’s in prison. They say she choked her own baby on a pair of gloves. But it didn’t start with her.”

That is terrifying. Although I did find myself wondering if the proximity of the very busy road may have had something to do with some of it. My parents' old house was just off a very very busy road, frequently travelled by enormous lorries and the vibrations could do alarming things to the structure. When they bought the house, the busy main road was much quieter, but subsequent one way systems and pedestrianisation of other roads meant that this road became a main way into the city for lorries from south of the river.

And I would certainly question the use of the term 'unlucky'. It wasn't luck that made the woman kill her baby (would also be interesting to read up on that case, because 'they say' an awful lot of things which may not be entire the case).

 

[Mythopoeika]

My home is known locally as the 'unlucky house'.

Was it called the 'lucky house' before you moved in?

Only kidding!