My experiences with the supernatural are many, and I could tell you all stories for hours. I’ll share three in this post. I’ve been able to see and hear them my entire life, and so has my brother, who I’ll call Jonny. The house we grew up in was a hotbed for demonic activity.
My earliest memory of seeing a demon was when I was four years old. I had been sitting at the kitchen table in my childhood home, eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast, while my mother was doing her hair in the bathroom when I heard footsteps coming toward me from the kitchen. When I turned to look, a hooded shadow figure was standing in front of the refrigerator, and I could feel it looking at me. It called itself “The Shiver Man,” and when it started to move closer to me, I ran past it into the bathroom with my mom, slammed the door, and locked it. I was utterly terrified when I crawled up on the toilet as mom asked what was wrong. “Don’t open the door, mom! The Shiver Man is out there, and he’s going to get me!” She chalked it up to an overactive imagination, and when she unlocked and opened the door, the Shiver Man stepped into the room. His long, bony fingers stretched out toward me, and I backed as far away from him as I could on the toilet, which wasn’t far at all. I shivered when he touched me, and he disappeared into thin air.
Some entities stayed in mine and my parents’ closets, and I would see them come out at night. I don’t know whether it was the same and it just moved closets when I was in the room or if they were separate. But when I got older, I asked my friends when they came over if they ever felt strange when they went into my closet, and every one of them said they always felt like something was in there with them that wanted them out. For whatever reason, I slept with my walk-in closet door wide open until I was 9. The doors to my and my parents’ closets never stayed closed because the part that held them closed in the doorframe had been painted over. One night, I had looked at my closet, and suddenly a huge demon stepped out. I couldn’t see its facial features, thank God, but its silhouette was very clear. It had horns on the top of its huge, round head, a fork in one hand, a knife in the other, and a napkin tied around its neck. As it started walking toward my bed, I gauged the distance between it and me, and me and the door, trying to figure out if I could make it past it so I could get to my parents’ room.
I finally decided to take the chance, and I bolted from my bed and down the hall to my mom. She let me crawl into bed with her, but I wasn’t going to get any reprieve. When I looked to the corner of her room where her closet was, another demon slipped through the crack in the door. This one was much slimmer. It was probably the Shiver Man because it was slim and hooded, just like he was five years prior. When it pointed at me, a swarm of smaller entities emerged from the blackness and lined up around the bed, effectively blocking me in. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I didn’t want to wake my mom up again. I was scared that she would get upset if I woke her up again. I had no idea what to do with these things at that age, so I buried my head under the covers and pressed up against my mom and eventually passed out from exhaustion.
The next morning, we went over to my grandmother’s for breakfast because one of my auntie and uncles were visiting with their kids, and we didn’t get to see them often. I sat at the table, pushing my food around on my plate, trying to make sense of the night before. When my family asked me what was wrong, I told them. They all laughed and told me I was crazy, and I knew I was on my own. I thought I was the only one who could see these things, that no one would ever help me, and no one would understand. Three years later, I learned otherwise.
I had been at a friend’s house to play after church when I was 12. For privacy, I’ll call her Allie. I remember sitting in her room, talking about demons and what to do if you ever had an encounter with one. I have no idea how we ended up on the subject, but it saved my little brother, who was 10, that night. Allie told me that if I ever saw a demon, all I had to say was, “Get out in the Name of God!” and it would have to leave. Later, when I had washed up for bed at home, I just started up the stairs to go to my room when Jonny opened his door and asked if he could talk to me.
His was the only bedroom on the main floor. The living room was to the right if you stood facing out the door, and the bathroom was right around the corner to the left. He usually always slept with his bedroom door open. There was an extra mattress on the floor from the sleepover he had had with his friends the weekend before, and he had been sleeping on it instead of his bed. I promise those details will be important.
He closed the door behind us, and we sat down on the bed. “I need to tell you something, but you can’t tell mom and dad because they’ll think I’m crazy!” He begged, and I promised I wouldn’t. “I know you can see things, so I know you won’t think so. The last few days, I’ve been seeing something follow me,” he said. “Whenever I get up at night to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water, I see a big black dog with glowing red eyes come out of the living room and follow me back to my room.”
I know my eyes bugged out as I recalled what Allie and I had talked about earlier that day, and I swallowed thickly. “Okay,” I started, carefully considering my next words. No matter how I put it, I knew what I was going to tell him would terrify him. “Jonny, I don’t want to scare you, but I think what you’re seeing is a demon.”
He started to cry, of course. We were only 10 and 12. How the hell are two kids who can see demons supposed to feel when everyone in the family thinks they’re insane? Jonny had seen what happened to me when I tried to tell our family what I could see, so he kept his gift to himself. I took his hands in mine. “Look at me, okay? Allie told me today what to do if we ever see a demon. If it comes back tonight, I want you to say, ‘In the Name of God, GET OUT!’ God will protect you, Jonny. He’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
He nodded and said, “Okay,” and I went upstairs to bed.
I should have stayed with him. I don’t know why I didn’t, but he told me what had happened the next morning. “It came back,” he said, but I could see that he felt empowered. “I slept on the mattress on the floor instead of my bed. When I woke up because I had to go to the bathroom, the dog was standing in my room already, snarling and staring at me. I did what you said, and I told it to get out in the Name of God! And it turned around with its tail between its legs and walked away and disappeared!” He threw his arms around me. “Thank you for telling me what to do!”
Jonny never saw it again. I don’t know if it was a hellhound or just a demon manifesting as a giant black dog with glowing red eyes. A few years ago, when I was telling that story to a friend, he told me his mom had seen the same dog when she was in high school! She was babysitting for someone and was watching TV after putting the kids to bed. She had turned out all of the lights, so the only light in the room was the semi-circle from the TV. Suddenly, she felt very uneasy. When she turned to look behind her, she saw the big black dog with red eyes pacing behind the couch, growling and trying to figure out how to get closer to her without touching the light!
These are only three stories of the activity in that house. When I have time, I’ll share more of my experiences. I’ve found myself wondering if the people living there now have ever had any encounters with the demons. More specifically, I’ve wondered if their children have, and if they’ve seen anything, I worry that they’ll end up feeling like Jonny and I did: like no one in the world will believe them.
submitted by /u/Hailz1721
[link] [comments]My experiences with the supernatural are many, and I could tell you all stories for hours. I’ll share three in this post. I’ve been able to see and hear them my entire life, and so has my brother, who I’ll call Jonny. The house we grew up in was a hotbed for demonic activity. My earliest memory of seeing a demon was when I was four years old. I had been sitting at the kitchen table in my childhood home, eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast, while my mother was doing her hair in the bathroom when I heard footsteps coming toward me from the kitchen. When I turned to look, a hooded shadow figure was standing in front of the refrigerator, and I could feel it looking at me. It called itself “The Shiver Man,” and when it started to move closer to me, I ran past it into the bathroom with my mom, slammed the door, and locked it. I was utterly terrified when I crawled up on the toilet as mom asked what was wrong. “Don’t open the door, mom! The Shiver Man is out there, and he’s going to get me!” She chalked it up to an overactive imagination, and when she unlocked and opened the door, the Shiver Man stepped into the room. His long, bony fingers stretched out toward me, and I backed as far away from him as I could on the toilet, which wasn’t far at all. I shivered when he touched me, and he disappeared into thin air. Some entities stayed in mine and my parents’ closets, and I would see them come out at night. I don’t know whether it was the same and it just moved closets when I was in the room or if they were separate. But when I got older, I asked my friends when they came over if they ever felt strange when they went into my closet, and every one of them said they always felt like something was in there with them that wanted them out. For whatever reason, I slept with my walk-in closet door wide open until I was 9. The doors to my and my parents’ closets never stayed closed because the part that held them closed in the doorframe had been painted over. One night, I had looked at my closet, and suddenly a huge demon stepped out. I couldn’t see its facial features, thank God, but its silhouette was very clear. It had horns on the top of its huge, round head, a fork in one hand, a knife in the other, and a napkin tied around its neck. As it started walking toward my bed, I gauged the distance between it and me, and me and the door, trying to figure out if I could make it past it so I could get to my parents’ room. I finally decided to take the chance, and I bolted from my bed and down the hall to my mom. She let me crawl into bed with her, but I wasn’t going to get any reprieve. When I looked to the corner of her room where her closet was, another demon slipped through the crack in the door. This one was much slimmer. It was probably the Shiver Man because it was slim and hooded, just like he was five years prior. When it pointed at me, a swarm of smaller entities emerged from the blackness and lined up around the bed, effectively blocking me in. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I didn’t want to wake my mom up again. I was scared that she would get upset if I woke her up again. I had no idea what to do with these things at that age, so I buried my head under the covers and pressed up against my mom and eventually passed out from exhaustion. The next morning, we went over to my grandmother’s for breakfast because one of my auntie and uncles were visiting with their kids, and we didn’t get to see them often. I sat at the table, pushing my food around on my plate, trying to make sense of the night before. When my family asked me what was wrong, I told them. They all laughed and told me I was crazy, and I knew I was on my own. I thought I was the only one who could see these things, that no one would ever help me, and no one would understand. Three years later, I learned otherwise. I had been at a friend’s house to play after church when I was 12. For privacy, I’ll call her Allie. I remember sitting in her room, talking about demons and what to do if you ever had an encounter with one. I have no idea how we ended up on the subject, but it saved my little brother, who was 10, that night. Allie told me that if I ever saw a demon, all I had to say was, “Get out in the Name of God!” and it would have to leave. Later, when I had washed up for bed at home, I just started up the stairs to go to my room when Jonny opened his door and asked if he could talk to me. His was the only bedroom on the main floor. The living room was to the right if you stood facing out the door, and the bathroom was right around the corner to the left. He usually always slept with his bedroom door open. There was an extra mattress on the floor from the sleepover he had had with his friends the weekend before, and he had been sleeping on it instead of his bed. I promise those details will be important. He closed the door behind us, and we sat down on the bed. “I need to tell you something, but you can’t tell mom and dad because they’ll think I’m crazy!” He begged, and I promised I wouldn’t. “I know you can see things, so I know you won’t think so. The last few days, I’ve been seeing something follow me,” he said. “Whenever I get up at night to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water, I see a big black dog with glowing red eyes come out of the living room and follow me back to my room.” I know my eyes bugged out as I recalled what Allie and I had talked about earlier that day, and I swallowed thickly. “Okay,” I started, carefully considering my next words. No matter how I put it, I knew what I was going to tell him would terrify him. “Jonny, I don’t want to scare you, but I think what you’re seeing is a demon.” He started to cry, of course. We were only 10 and 12. How the hell are two kids who can see demons supposed to feel when everyone in the family thinks they’re insane? Jonny had seen what happened to me when I tried to tell our family what I could see, so he kept his gift to himself. I took his hands in mine. “Look at me, okay? Allie told me today what to do if we ever see a demon. If it comes back tonight, I want you to say, ‘In the Name of God, GET OUT!’ God will protect you, Jonny. He’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He nodded and said, “Okay,” and I went upstairs to bed. I should have stayed with him. I don’t know why I didn’t, but he told me what had happened the next morning. “It came back,” he said, but I could see that he felt empowered. “I slept on the mattress on the floor instead of my bed. When I woke up because I had to go to the bathroom, the dog was standing in my room already, snarling and staring at me. I did what you said, and I told it to get out in the Name of God! And it turned around with its tail between its legs and walked away and disappeared!” He threw his arms around me. “Thank you for telling me what to do!” Jonny never saw it again. I don’t know if it was a hellhound or just a demon manifesting as a giant black dog with glowing red eyes. A few years ago, when I was telling that story to a friend, he told me his mom had seen the same dog when she was in high school! She was babysitting for someone and was watching TV after putting the kids to bed. She had turned out all of the lights, so the only light in the room was the semi-circle from the TV. Suddenly, she felt very uneasy. When she turned to look behind her, she saw the big black dog with red eyes pacing behind the couch, growling and trying to figure out how to get closer to her without touching the light! These are only three stories of the activity in that house. When I have time, I’ll share more of my experiences. I’ve found myself wondering if the people living there now have ever had any encounters with the demons. More specifically, I’ve wondered if their children have, and if they’ve seen anything, I worry that they’ll end up feeling like Jonny and I did: like no one in the world will believe them. submitted by /u/Hailz1721 [link] [comments]
