Hello everyone.
After an abrupt return to ATS after a 4 year hiatus, I figured providing you all with another story of a personal experience may be a good way to
re-integrate into this great community.
The following events all took place during mid 2011, and I stress that the following is all true, with no embellishment, exaggeration or selective
memory. I made a point of taking notes during the whole process at the time, and am thankful for that now. For those of you that remember me when I
was originally on ATS, I believe I built quite a reputation for honest, informative and interesting posting, and I hope that this can be the beginning
of rebuilding this status!
So, in 2011, I decided to make the big move away from my sleepy home town, and try out an entirely different style of living. I, along with my cousin,
found a small unit to rent in a leafy suburb of south Brisbane, Australia. The unit was one of five in the one structure, a large, old
'Queenslander'-style house that had been renovated to be split into these five small dwellings.
A Queenslander-style house, very similar in style and layout to where I had moved in to.
Nothing untoward occurred at all during the early weeks and months of this new adventure. We settled in, slowly furnished the place, and began to
grind into a routine. Bumps in the night were commonplace, with very distinct sounds being heard frequently night after night (such as bush turkeys
walking on the iron roof, the clicking of geckos on the ceiling, the general groans of an old home). It is important to note that with the wooden
floors, wooden cupboards, doors, windowframes etc, the sounds of shifting and general wood strain was almost constant during a still night, but you
learn to filter it out. Noises that are different, or out of place, become easily noticeable among the cacophony.
Something changed, however. Several months later, my girlfriend had all but moved in with us, and it was around this time that something changed. I
remember the first night I realized something was wrong, so clearly. Everyone had not long gone to bed, and my girlfriend and I were laying in bed
watching a movie on my computer. The bedroom door was closed. We heard clear, distinct, heavy footsteps out in the living room, directly outside the
bedroom door. I assumed it was my cousin, who must have gotten back up out of bed, and thought little of it. The footsteps, however, appeared to enter
a pattern of pacing back and forth, and were so heavy that bare feet could not have caused them. More like boots. They sounded as if they approached
my door, stopped, and then went quiet. I got out of bed, called out and opened my bedroom door to a house in darkness, my cousin still in bed sleeping
soundly. I was pretty unnerved, but played it down as not to scare my girlfriend, and returned to bed.
The following weeks had this pattern repeated maybe 4 or 5 times, 2 of which my cousin wasn't even home to have somehow caused the footsteps. As I
made note of earlier, by this time I knew the sounds of the house really well, the sounds that filtered through from the neighbours, the animal life
and the structure itself. These sounds were clear, distinct and footstep-made, with no discernible source. Around the 5th or 6th occurrence, things
took an unsettling turn when the footsteps, as they did, approached the bedroom door after minutes of pacing. This time, when they stopped, what
sounded like hyperventilating, or heavy breathing, could be heard from the other side of the door. By this stage, my girlfriend was terrified to even
go to bed at night, no longer listening to my 'it's probably nothing' consoling. This breathing sound lasted for perhaps 15 - 20 seconds before the
bedroom door was shaken at it's hinges by an incredibly loud bang, as if a boot or fist were slammed against it. That ended the events for that
night, but we, as you can guess, did not find any rest.
The next major piece of this tale took place a few days later. I was at work, and my girlfriend was at the unit alone. I received a panicked phone
call from her at work, in which she relayed the following. She had been sitting on the side of the bed, with some of her university work spread out
around her, just passing the hours and (at least pretending to!) study. The bedroom door was open, and with the aforementioned living area directly
outside, it is possible to see straight through that area and into the kitchen on the other side. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and
looked over to the kitchen to see the cutlery drawer extend out of the bench, all the way, and fall entirely out onto the floor. Almost the instant
this happened, the bedroom door had slammed shut. When she called me, she was outside on the side of the road, having pushed out the flyscreen from
the bedroom window and climbed out, too afraid to re-open the bedroom door. When I arrived home from work several hours later, this is where I still
found her. She was that terrified that she had not re-entered the house. This was the first of several daytime events that led to the conclusion of
this chapter.
The night-time events continued, with the breathing sounds and bedroom door knocks becoming something of a regularity alongside the stomping feet. I
had actually recorded audio of all of this one evening, but the phone that this file was recorded on is long since gone, and as far as I can tell, I
didn't have the foresight to make a backup.
The 'grand finale' was about a month after all of this started. I was having a shower, and our bathroom, like many in these older Australian homes,
had a door with a 'window', which was made of fogged glass. You could see vague shapes and colours through it, but nothing significant. I was home
alone, and after getting out out of the shower I turned to leave and saw a clear outline of a head and shoulders on the other side of this fogged
glass. The figure appeared to be entirely black, with muted features. The only thing I can compare it to is a person in a morph-suit. The figure
spoke, saying something in a very whispered / muffled sounding voice. To sound horribly cliche, it did appear to me at the time to be a threat or a
warning, along the lines of 'get out' or 'get it'. The figure then looked like it turned away from the window but instead of being seen to walk
away it simply vanished as it turned, as if it was only visible from the front, and as it turned it just ceased to exist.
This was the last straw for me. I didn't tell my girlfriend the details of the encounter, but simply started the process of moving. She was attending
university at another city and had been staying with me while doing as much as possible via distance. I relocated within a week of this event to the
city in which she was studying and moved into a place with her, leaving much of my furniture behind and at a great financial loss. But I couldn't
live there any longer.