In the basement of Mr. Head's house (now my parents rental house), there is a shelf basement. For you peeps from AZ who don't know what a basement looks like, it has a shelf about 4' high all around the perimeter of the foundation. As you walk down the stairs, across the room in the far right corner is a little coal room. In your line of sight is a pile of chopped wood on the shelf in this room with no door.
One rainy night the renters heard a plink plink sound below the family room. They heard plink plink over and over and thought it was coming from the basement, but it was stormy and dark and did not venture down there. The next day when the wife went to do laundry down there, she walked down the stairs... and paused... there was something amis. Her peripheral caught the coal room... and the pile of wood was gone! She slowly walked back there, carrying her laundry basket... as she came to the door and looked in, the wood was now restacked to the right of the door, inside the room, out of sight from the stairwell!!!
doo do do do dooo do doo do...
Another resident of the Head Cottage (as my Dad fondly calls it) was cleaning one day and filled a large long box with clothes to take to good will. She wrestled the box to the back door but decided to stick it in the basement until she had more to take. She hefted the box down the stairs and set it right on the floor at the end of the steps.
That night, it rained and stormed...
She was sitting in the family room watching tv and heard a scraping noise. A S...L...O...W... scraping noise. She froze on the sofa, remote in hand and listened...
The next morning she ventured to the stairwell and looked down... the box was pushed away from the steps, forward up to the wall - out of the way of being tripped on if one were to come down the stairs. Mr. Head cares about your safety.
the basement windows...
my mom promised to take pics of the creepy basement! stay tuned.
