Short scary story #2
About 7 years ago, my boyfriend and I moved into a duplex. After living there for about six months, we had become well acquainted with our neighbors. Everyone was cool except for this older lady and her creepy brother who claimed to be a medicine man (he also liked to stare into everyone’s windows- especially at women). One night, at about two in the morning, the older lady comes pounding on our door. She said that her grandson had stolen her car and taken it to town and she needed to look for him. She didn’t want to call the police on him. Unfortunately, times were tough and we only had enough gas to get to and from work let alone drive aimlessly looking for her grandson and car. We told her we were sorry, and we were unable to help. She got mad at us and stormed off, muttering to herself. We went to bed and didn’t think anything of it until a week later. We had went to town for a few groceries one day. When we came home, we discovered things were amiss. Knick knacks had been moved around, our wire plant shelf had been moved away from the wall and the back of it faced our front door. We initially thought someone had broken into our apartment but couldn’t find anything missing. The door wasn’t opened or unlocked when we got home, no windows were broken or had been opened. We thought someone was just fucking with us. Later in the evening, we went to cook dinner and discovered all our cooking knives were missing. Upon searching our apartment for the second time, we also discovered our pocket knives, scissors and box cutters were gone. Starting to feel officially creeped the fuck out at this point, I walked into my bedroom to see if there was anything else out of place. Then I noticed, my needle tool (used for making pottery) was stuck in the wall, all the way down to the handle. It was perfectly positioned at the head of our bed about three feet up between our pillows. I turned my room upside down, on a hunch I lifted up our mattress. Low and behold, all our kitchen knives, pocket knives, scissors and box cutters were laying on top of the boxspring. The pocket knives were opened, the box cutter blades were protruding, and the scissors in... scissor position? It was some FREAKY demon shit. There was no way anyone had entered our house unless they had a key, which was also highly unlikely. We smudged, blessed our apartment and prayed over it because we could just feel negative energy, and spent a sleepless night being creeped out. The next morning, we went outside to smoke an anxiety cigarette. Low and behold, our creepy pervert neighbor was on his porch, grinning at us the entire time we were out there- imagine a psychotic Gomez Addams grin if you will. I know it sounds crazy, but we were pretty sure it had something to do with denying his sister a ride. I’m not sure what they did, but it was supernatural and it scared the actual shit out of me.