Abandoned and Alone

I remember Kelly saying something like, “ I think it’s going to be a quiet night.

 I agreed. We had been in this crumbling, old homestead, sitting in a particularly pure form of silence. It was admittedly quiet and I don’t mean “too quiet”. It was just quiet. 

Our travels have taken us many places, some of them genuinely creepy. By all accounts this should have been one of those places. The paint was peeling. The bones were showing. It had all of the makings of a spooky, old, haunted house.

But it wasn’t.

I didn’t feel any manner of creepy vibrations. There wasn’t an ever present sensation of being watched. I didn’t even feel calm. It was just an old house. Slowly and inevitably being forgotten about.

Which is sad. I’ve grown to love places like this and the idea of one becoming lost to time made my heart hurt just a little. 

But I suppose that’s the way the world is, isn’t it? 

Everything inevitably gets forgotten.

I think Kelly was feeling this way as well. Throughout the afternoon she had taken up the beyond moot endeavor of  trying to tidy the decades of filth in the place. Since before we had entered the house she had insisted on the idea that she needed a broom. 

We had arrived about an hour and a half before sun down to take pictures and videos of the halls, brickwork, and general wreckage of the place. All of the required photographic evidence of urban exploration. 

About half an hour into the process we had come to a disturbing realization.

We were not alone in the homestead. 

Not the spiritual occupants we had been hoping for. A less than proverbial infestation of insects of numerous shapes, sizes, colors, and species. Most of which were  generally harmless but the fairly dense wasp population posed something of a threat to our night. 

We decided to navigate the twisting gravel roads to get to the nearest town to grab some wasp spray and other essential supplies.

When we left the Family Dollar we had collected 2 cans of general flying insect killer, wasp spray, a small wall mounted light, a broom, a dust pan, 4 energy drinks, and enough candy to summon the ghost of Wilford Brimley. 

We returned to the homestead, tallied up a body count that would cause even the most veterened exterminators to take notice, and Kelly began her curiously inspired sweeping.

This was soon halted because we realized the amount of mold, lead based paint, animal fecal matter, asbestos, and many other means of proverbial and literal shit the sweeping had made airborne. 

We evacuated for a while, giving the particles time to settle. We walked through the tall grass around the homestead. The area behind was a dense marshland so we avoided getting too close to the tree line. Eventually we found ourselves at the top of the hill in front of the building where the car was parked. We sat for a bit, watching the sun start to dip behind the limestone facade of the structure. 

After a while we decided that it was safe enough to re-enter and started hauling equipment into the house. 

We set up a table in the main room since there was no furniture to speak of in the building. This was a strange thing to see. No old bed frames, no appliances, even the light fixtures had been removed. The place had been thoroughly stripped of any evidence of former inhabitants. 

Since there was no power to the place, we strategically placed garage lights throughout the main room to ensure proper ambient light when the sun finally did set. 

Camera bags, snacks, and energy drinks were set out on the table and two blue camping chairs were placed nearby. We sat down, admired the set up, and tried to figure out the strange, still vibrations of the place. 

“I’m sure it’s just residual, but it feels like that area used to be the kitchen.” Kelly started, “And there was a lot of people going in and out. Maybe people who didn’t live here full time.”

“Makes sense.” I said. “All the tile work looks kind of kitchen-y. And the wall looks like some sort of large counter was there at one point.” From where I sat I could barely see into the kitchen. There was a hard line of grime where the sealant would have held the countertop fast to the wall. “Any other impressions?”

“Not really.” she replied. Her face scrunched up in a look that seemed to mix confusion with disappointment. 

We sat for a while longer discussing plans for the night and the brickwork of the place.

One could be forgiven for expecting ghosts in a place like this. It looks like it should be haunted. I wasn’t sure it was though. Not everywhere has to be. It just seemed to be an old building looking towards it’t winter.  Ready to rest.

After about half an hour of silence we eventually became restless and started wandering around the house, prompting questions to the thin air. 

We got no replies. Just the continued silence we had begun to expect. 

At one point, I had found myself casually wandering the 2nd floor, admiring the extent of the wear that time had put on the walls and ceilings. The walls, which were all different and, I’m sure at one point very bright in color, were full of holes and had accumulated a healthy amount of dirt and mold. Not to mention the floors that I was perpetually afraid of falling through. 

I was in a room in the far East corner of the building when I got the feeling that Kelly had come very close to me. I turned to remark on the strangely placed windows inside the house that went room to room when I realized she wasn’t there. 

It was a curious sensation, I was ready to chalk it up to my imagination, but I thought Kelly would find it interesting so I decided to head back down the, at best, hazardous stairs to find her. 

I get an involuntary smile whenever I see Kelly. I like to think she does the same for me when I’m not looking. I went up and hugged her and was a bit confused when she let out a surprise, “Oh!”

I gave her a confused look to which she replied, “There’s someone here.”

I was sure with Kelly’s gifts that if either of us were to find the spirits of the place it was going to be her.

“Who was she?” I asked.

“I’m not sure.” She said, “It was quick so I only got an impression. She was happy to see love in the house again.” She smiled. “She also was happy that we had come in and shown some respect to the house.”

The sun seemed to set a bit more quickly after our brief personal experiences. To my surprise, it did nothing to make the house any more creepy when there was no real light. 

We turned on our shop lights and started going through our equipment bags as we prepared to get to the more serious act of active investigating. We fixed cameras to tripods and started setting them up. One went to the corner of the main room we were in and another I thought I’d take up to the 2nd floor since I had had my experience up there, no matter how brief it was.

Since the place had no known “hot spots”- places with increased paranormal activity- we weren’t totally sure where to start. It was most likely, if anything at all, going to be one of those organic investigations where the equipment used and the placement of it all was going to be left up to interactions as we went along. 

Knowing this we started outside. The homestead was truly in the middle of nowhere so internet connection was left a little wanting. We had promised people a livestream of the process so we went out with the hopes of securing as strong of a connection as possible.

You can watch the events of that livestream here. ←

Without giving away anything too exciting (because you should definitely check out the video) here are some of the details:

We were beyond surprised by the end of the night. If I’m being honest, I expected to spend maybe an hour doing the livestream and a couple more hours of general investigating. I was expecting the silence to be a trend for the night. I was expecting a quiet night. 

I was wrong. The house came alive in curious ways and we livestreamed for almost 4 hours.

The majority of the investigation took place in the main area where our make-shift nerve center was. This was mostly due to the fact that the camera that we were livestreaming off of only stayed connected in a few very specific spots in the house. At first we were concerned by this development, but now we think it was important to the level of interactions we got over the course of the night. 

Think about it. This is a place where, up until our arrival, no one has ever come in and tried to interact the way we were. We were strangers in their home. Had we had the opportunity, we would have most likely pursued their sounds and I can see this making someone anxious! 

Instead we were interacting on their terms and in their comfort level so we believe our limited movement was beneficial. 

That being said, had there were no shortage of sounds we could have followed. 

It’s important to notice that many of the spirits in the house may not have been unfamiliar with the concept of spirit communication. Being built in the mid 1850s the residents may have been familiar with what we now call The Spiritualist Movement and the seances and other spirit communications of the time. 

They did what we were doing…just differently. Back then, knocks and rappings were the method of finding a presence. Not infrared cameras and K2 meters. 

So that’s what we asked of them and we were not disappointed. 

Admittedly, there were sounds in the house caused by local mice, but many of the knocks, bangs, and footsteps were far too loud to be caused by an animal the size of a mouse and video footage ruled out raccoons (which was a real concern). 

We would ask for taps on the wall and they would happen within feet of where we were sitting. At one point there were heavy footsteps throughout the house and this inspired us to set up some more equipment throughout the house. 

A motion sensor was set up in the hall to the stairs. A REM pod was set up in the room behind us as well as a motion activated cat toy. A motion sensor light was set up in the kitchen area. The music box was set up on the second floor down the main halls. 

It started with the motion sensor towards the stairs. 

The sound of footsteps caused us to take pause. They had come from somewhere behind where we were sitting and we were listening closely to see if they continued. Instead of the hollow thud of the boots we were startled by the shrill screaming of the motion sensor’s alarm. 

Asses left seats. Profanity was yelled. 

Next was the music box. 

Not terribly long after the motion sensor alarm incident, we heard the unmistakable sounds of human footsteps on the second floor. 

“If you’re up there,” Kelly started, “can you walk in front of that device Chris set up there?”

Without much pause at all the music box began to play. 

It would occasionally play a few notes throughout the night. 

Over the course of the investigation Kelly and I noticed something odd about the energy of the place. It was, from what we noticed, genuinely still when activity wasn’t happening. No increased energy. No creepy feelings. 

Until just before the sounds began again. 

Then there would be an odd charge to the air. We would get our response or the footsteps would sound and then the energy would dissipate again. 

Kelly compared it to when you rub wool socks on a carpeted floor. You build up that charge until the last possible moment and then the shock happens. They need to build up a bit before delivering that “shock”.

My thoughts (like always) are a bit more convoluted. 

Imagine throwing a stone into a still body of water. There is the initial impact spot and the water ripples from there. Eventually the ripples fade into nothing. I think psychic energy can act like this. Where, unless kept in motion (maybe by people like us remembering them), a haunt will eventually dissipate into nothing. The half-life of a haunting. I’d speculate this is why we don’t hear of too many ghosts of neanderthals. 

The idea is a bit more complex than that, but maybe that’s a blog for another time. 

After several hours the investigation concluded. We closed our bags, loaded up our equipment, and said goodbye to the old house. With the moon shining overhead we traveled the gravel roads home.