Wild House of Oregon

By Zushiba | More Zushiba

Yeah I know all you have to go on is my word about this being real but whatever I’m telling it anyway.

About 14 years ago I lived in a house in Eugene, Oregon

It’s a strange house. Pretty large with a nice wraparound deck a big back yard and, at the time, two big buildings in the back that made nice club houses. There were two bedrooms upstairs on the ground level that shared a walk-in closet and three bedrooms downstairs and another room I’d call a large storage room or closet.

Now usually things were cool. My room had two windows that were at the ground level so they were pretty near the ceiling

At times I could hear shit in the walls that I was convinced were mice. It sounded as if they were sliding a piece of wood back and forth in the wall. Maybe they were playing a form of mouse soccer or something. It didn’t scare me at all until one night maybe three or four months after we had been living there- that's when the weird crap started to happen.

It started in my room. I was sleeping soundly when something started scratching at my window. My window, being high above my bed, was hard to see out of, but there was light from the back yard and my TV was on so I could just barely make out the face of what appeared to be a dog-or something- looking in the window. It was sniffing at the window and making some rather violent half snort half growl noises.

Needless to say this scared me senseless and I bolted upstairs.

At this point I should note some oddities of the evil room (as I came to call it). For whatever reason we could NOT keep a light on in this room for very long.

Any light bulb in the room would burn out within minutes. Any lamps on extension cords into the room from known working sockets would also experience this strange burnout. Any flashlight you took in to the room would burn out within a minute or two. You could simply NOT keep lights on in this room.

There was ALWAYS a draft in the room despite there being no vent for A/C and being in the corner of the back part of the house, under ground with no windows so using a lighter was out.

It was always noticeably colder in the room and it was often times damp. At night I could always hear the dripping of water coming from the room, it had no rug or carpeting just concrete. There was always a puddle on the ground but there was no damage to the ceiling so we couldn’t tell where the water was coming from.

Presumably the dripping noise was the source of the puddle of water but as there was no water damage anywhere it was tough to say that was the actual source. (Never dripped during the day or when someone was in the room)

I once cleaned up and dried the puddle. I put a box over the puddle to see where the water was coming from. In the morning I found the box bone-dry but there was a brand new puddle under it, complete with obnoxious drip! drip! drip! the night before.

The worst feature of the rooms in the basement was that none of them had a door, so my room looked JUST inside the evil room of evil at all hours.

Now this is where things get a little creepy. Days after the dog -or whatever it was- in the window I woke up to the strangest sound. I heard whispering coming from the room. Maybe a whisper is the wrong way to describe it as there was definitely a tone to the voices but they were so low I couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was clearly more than one person and the sound ended when I made any sound. This happened often enough that it became an annoyance instead of just creepy. I’d even gotten to the point that I’d yell at the room to shut the hell up to get back to sleep.

From time to time I’d hear what sounded like a large bag or box being pulled across the floor in the room and strange sniffing noises but these were less frequent than the very light whispering.

This all culminated one night in what remains to this day the most blood chilling experience of my life.

I had become used to the whispering at this point and it didn’t scare me much anymore. I woke up to something at the window again only whatever it was, was just tapping lightly on the window pane. From the room I could see a red-orange glow as if there was a fire in the room.

Just as I had noticed the glow I heard a very loud clattering sound as if someone were throwing tools or something around in the room. Then I heard the same voices I heard whispering only now they were yelling as if having a fight. It got so loud I doubt they would have heard me if I yelled at them to shut up.

The sense of hate and dread coming from the direction of the room was almost physical enough to choke on.

Remember, my door is right next to the the evil room; so escape, while attractive, was also quite a scary prospect. I sat there on my bed with the sound of tapping at the window behind me and the fight or whatever it was going on in the next room over. Finally, enough was enough and I finally made up my mind to make a break for it.

I grabbed some scissors from the table next to the bed as some sort of weapon and just as I was about to jump, whatever it was in the window made a screeching sound, kind of like the cry a rabbit makes when it’s being dragged off by a wolf. That was all I could stand and I was airborne.

I leapt off my bed, ran past the evil room of evil doing my best not to catch even a peripheral glance of anything in the room and I tore off towards the stairs. I heard something in the room make a mad dash after me.

I was absolutely terrified at this point and I had never climbed stairs so fast in my life. I reached the top door, ripped it open and ran towards my older sisters room. I flew over her, into the corner of her bed and the wall. Waking her up and scaring her half to death. She told me later that I was white as a ghost.

I told her what I had heard and seen downstairs. At this point my mom came upstairs. She had apparently not noticed a thing and was wondering what the hell was going on.

I told her about it and she wrote it off as nothing but she agreed to go check it out with me. I exchanged my scissors for a large knife from the kitchen and we went downstairs together. No light, no sound, nothing could be seen or heard in the room. There was nothing at my window and there was zero evidence I wasn’t crazy.

I slept in the living room for 2 weeks

Pt 2

I had enough experiences in the house that I could fill a book. Most of it seemed to follow my older sister. There were ghosts, voices, monstrous beast things, the list goes on and on.

Notable instances:

• scary monster living in the attic (Yes I know how cliche that sounds but it was pretty weird)

• Voices that sound like family members calling us from different parts of the house when we’re not there or asleep.

• Similar beastie running around in the backyard.

• Waking up to a veritable pet cemetery worth of bones in the backyard.

Well let’s see here. I guess the best place to start is at the beginning.

The First Time

The first case of strangeness that was recorded in my immediate family was the first house I remember, in Fresno, California. It was owned by a man named Mr Rackly. (I don’t know what his first name was).

He was a fairly nice guy but his wife was a super bitch of epic proportions. She didn’t like us living in “HER” house and she was always giving us a hard time. Mr and Mrs Rackly broke up and shortly afterwords she died of a heart attack in the hospital.

The first instance happened to my mom. My dad worked late and he usually came home at around 10:00pm. My mom and the rest of us were in bed. She heard him enter the front door, walk to the kitchen and put his lunch box on the counter then come to their room. She was not “UP” but she was awake- that twilight state of sleep. She felt him get into bed, she turned over and there was no one there.

That started a long string of creepy shit in the house. My grandmother ran into a crying woman wearing a white nightgown in the kitchen who screamed and ran through the wall when she saw gran.

And best of all, one morning when the family woke up, the entire back yard was covered in bones of cats, dogs, cows, chickens, etc. It was highly creepy.

My mom wrote it off as cats dragging them into the yard but I some how doubt that 20 or 30 some-odd dead animals would just end up in the backyard overnight.

Next house – Fresno, California.

My sisters were shared a room, my older sister constantly reported sounds of something walking around in the attic and strange scratching sounds- something like an animal.

I didn’t believe her and so we switched bedrooms one night and I slept pretty good for a long time. I woke up early at around 2:00AM to the sound of something thumping around above my head. Scared the shit out of me and I spent the rest of the night in my parent's bedroom.

One day, while returning home from the store we found a kitten mewing its head off with its face pressed against the attic vent above the front door. My father tasked me with getting it. I was totally against it but he said he’d be right by me the whole time.

The trapdoor to the attic was in my sisters closet so not only do I have to go into enemy territory but I have to do it in the very room we hear the scary shit from.

My father gives me a lighter for light and helps me up to the closets shelf, so I’m sitting on my knees with the upper part of my body in the attic looking in the direction of the door. I REFUSED to turn around and look at the part of the attic that was behind me and over my sisters bedroom. It took forever to get the kitten to come to me, god knows how it got up here in the first place.

Finally the kitten gets close enough to me to grab and I forget where I am for the moment so I turn around and come face to face with what I can only describe as a really terrible-looking dog of some sort. It looked old, scraggly, almost like a Muppet. The thing looked skeletal- like it had never had a meal. It scared the shit out of me.

The thing was COMPLETELY motionless. I was terrified. I straightened my legs and fell out of the closet with the kitten in hand I heard a crash from above me as I fell and I BOLTED out of the house. I stayed at my grandmothers for a few weeks before returning home.

Upon returning home, my mom, my sisters and I show up to just about every neighbor standing in their front yards, gawking at us. My dad is outside and our front door is open.

As the story goes my dad was sitting in the living room cleaning his pistol. It discharged because he’s kind of stupid and fired a shot into the ceiling. He heard a strange scream from the back of the house and a loud crash from the back room-- my sister's room.

The thing in the attic breaks through the porthole in her closet, breaks runs down the hall towards him, notices the front door is open and runs out the front door into the street and then down the street. The neighbors see it, my dad sees it and the trapdoor is torn to shreds.

Now I’m not sure if this is an over-active imagination on us kid's part and our parents staged it to alleviate our fear, or if it actually happened but that’s how we remember it.

Basically he shot a bullet into the attic, scared or possibly hit whatever it was living up there. It (the monster, spirit, whatever) busted through the trapdoor in the my sisters closet, came screaming down the hallway towards the living room where my dad was sitting on the couch. As it reached the living room it turned and bolted out the front door then down the street.

My mom is convinced it started with my grandmothers mother who she (Grandma) claimed was a witch.

As family stories go, she once sold my grandmother to a black man when she was nine. Not sure how she managed to get back to the family.

Another time her grandmother was holed up in her room. The only other room in the house. (OOOLD house in Arkansas back in the mid 20s, I believe) Her mother was in the room all day by herself talking to no one and some time around the time the sun set the door burst open and my grandmother's grandmother came storming out of the room followed by my grandmother's mother.

Her mother was yelling at my grandmother “Don’t go with her, she is NOT your grandmother!” then she just kept saying that over and over again. “Don’t go with her, that’s not your grandma”

And this thing had body of her grandmother but had disproportional features, almost as if it were a living caricature of her grandma with an elongated nose, big wide yellow eyes, a long jaw set back in the skull, attempted to drag my grandmother from her home. She broke free from it’s bony fingers and and it ran into the front yard and disappeared.

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