Private Residence - Drummond St.

This is a submission to the site from on of our regular readers...

Let me set the scene on this one.

It involves an old house in Brantford on Drummond Street that one of my friends lives in, that I am sure is at least 70 years old. Any of us that is asked about this friend's house refers to it lovingly as "Name Removed By Request's House of Booga" (booga being our pet name for anything possibly supernatural in origin). My friend happens to be the same guy that was interrupted on my couch in a prior story, CLICK HERE to read this story, and his girlfriend was also involved in this one... indeed, she was the focus of this particular incident.

This house just happens to be one of the creepiest houses that I have ever been in. When you walk into the front door, it is as if you have walked into a "zone of silence". There seems to be a desolate feeling in there that only affects those who do not live there. Neither my friend, nor his family, have ever been disturbed or frightened by anything in that house, but others (myself included) have felt cold spots, heard doors open or close, and have at one time or another the feeling that they are being "watched".

I had that particular experience one night when I was using the bathroom, believe me, not pleasant at all.

When you walk into the front door, there is a hallway. On the left side is the staircase going to the second floor; on the right is one of the two doors into the living room. The second door is a little farther down this hallway, with the basement door facing it. After that is the dining room, and then the kitchen. This story involves the second living room door and the basement.

My friend had gone to work that night, and his father was also at work until 7am on a night shift. His girlfriend was alone in the house, (which is much braver than I could have been) I knew that she was there, alone. At about 10:30pm I got a call from her at my apartment, and she said that she was a little bored and would I mind if she came over for a little while? I said sure, no problem, and went about my business. When she arrived she seemed a little unnerved, but I figured that was normal for someone who had just been alone at that house. We chatted for a little while, and then at about midnight or so I gave her a lift back to my friend's house, since he would be home from work soon.

He told me about 3 months later exactly why she had to come over in such a hurry that night.

Apparently, she had been watching TV on the couch in the living room. The couch faced north, as well as the basement door. From the position that she was in on the couch, she could see the basement door out of the corner of her left eye as she watched whatever program was on. All of a sudden, she heard the basement door creak open, which was odd because she knew that that door was always kept closed tight. She looked to her left, and to her horror she saw what she described as a man, not old, but not young, that looked like a bum, crawling at an inhuman speed towards her. His hair and clothing were dirty and disheveled, and apparently he had an insane gleam in his eyes as he "shambled" top speed in her direction. Right before he reached her, he disappeared. He had also looked like he was dragging his legs behind him.

I told this story a couple of months ago to a friend of mine from out of town who happens to be VERY psychic...and she gave me a possible solution as to who this person might have been, or at least what his situation may have been. She said that back around the turn of the century, there was a practice that if anyone in the family happened to be mentally disturbed in any fashion, they weren't sent to the asylum, they were kept in the basement of the house, like a prisoner. (That made a bit of sense, especially if the family did not have the funds to keep the patient in a special hospital...) But then she told me that when the disturbed person was being a pain (ie coming up the stairs and rattling on the door when company was around) that their legs would be broken to keep them from climbing the stairs. Could this possibly explain the crazed look and the appearance of the legs dragging behind him?

Now if you didn't get goosebumps from this story (I *still* get chills up my spine every time I think of it, and it's been about 7 years since I was told this story) read this tale by candlelight at night and try to visualize a dirty, scraggly-haired, crazy looking, man who hasn't shaved in god knows how long, with rags for clothes, coming towards you in "fast forward" motion dragging himself on his hands. Trust me, that'll give 'em to you.
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