It Dwells in the Basement
My name is Tracey and I am a third generation sensitive. For as long as I can remember, I have had the ability to see, hear, and channel spirits. I belong to a paranormal group in Maryland, and last Saturday we were asked to investigate a restaurant. There had been reports of shadow people, doors slamming, disembodied voices---you name it, they had it.
Upon setting up for the night, one of my fellow investigators was lowering cable down to the basement when something or someone tugged at the cable from the base of the steps. Needless to say, she had a surprised look on her face, then it happened a second time, then the final tug took ten feet of cable down the steps and around the corner to the second half of the basement. We felt a cold blast of air rush past us, and it felt like someone had pushed the two of us backwards. We were not wanted at this restaurant.
Naturally, we went down to see if someone was hiding or, if perhaps, an animal was the cause of the pull. No one was there. The two rooms felt thick like pudding and the air itself looked like a fine mist ran through the entire section. Upon leaving the room, a hot breath whispered into my ear "hang man."
Later in the evening, during an EVP session, I felt a familiar heaviness come over me, followed by an intense feeling of hate. The spirit of Timothy came through. He had been the pimp at a brothel and felt that we were intruding on his space. The room temperature dropped by ten degrees, my round face went to an oblong shape, and my voice dropped two octaves as I announced to the tech member to get our or die. I'm told that the smell of rotten eggs filled the air, the screams of two women were heard, and a chair went flying across the room. I had passed out immediately after this grand announcement. What really scared them was that my lips turned blue and my body went stiff. As hard as they tried, I wouldn't respond. I later found out that they called for the remaining members to come and get me out of the room. It took five men several minutes to get my body off the ground. Rick, our tech guy, told me it was like lifting a marble statue. Eventually, I was carried upstairs and outside, where I came to. My only scar from that night—which has thankfully faded—is a rope mark around my neck. We later found out that a man had been hanged down in the basement over a gambling debt.
