Horror Stories - 6 Disturbing TRUE New House Horror Stories That Turned Dream Homes Into Nightmares

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Starting point is 00:00:53 Luxury sales claim based on S&P Global Mobility Canadian New Vehicle Total Registrations for calendar year 2025 for the the Cadillac definition of luxury. Hello, everyone, and welcome back to horror stories. I know many of you use these episodes to fall asleep, so before you drift off, I'd love it if you could leave a comment letting me know where you're listening from around the world. Also, don't forget to like and subscribe if you're enjoying the episodes. Story 1. About two years ago, I moved into my first real home.

Starting point is 00:01:32 It was in a newly built residential neighborhood on the outskirts of a quiet town in Australia. fresh concrete, wide streets, and barely any neighbors. I was one of the first people to move in, which at the time felt exciting. It was just me, my dog Jeb, and all the independence I could want. Most of the lots around me were still patches of dirt, and aside from one house directly across from mine that looked almost finished, the place was pretty deserted. That house didn't even have a driveway yet,

Starting point is 00:02:02 and I never saw any signs of life there. No cars, no lights, nothing. Just an empty shell across the street. A little farther down from my house, there was a strange hill on municipal land, huge fenced off and completely off limits. No one was allowed to build there, and apparently no one was supposed to go near it either. I never understood why, though I also wasn't interested enough to find out. It just stood there like a forbidden backdrop.

Starting point is 00:02:32 The only other real landmark in the area was an old abandoned farm a few kilometers away. It was completely falling apart, but I used to walk there with Jeb to explore it. There was something cool about having so much emptiness all around. But about a month after I moved in, things started getting weird. One morning, just before dawn, I woke up to the sound of a violin. It wasn't a cheerful or lively melody. It was slow, almost sad. It sounded faint, far away.

Starting point is 00:03:04 Honestly, at first I even thought it was beautiful. I assumed that the house across the street had finally gotten new residents, and that maybe one of them played. But when I looked out the window, it looked exactly the same, empty. Even so, I thought it was nothing, until it happened again and again. Every couple of days, I heard the same violin, always very early in the morning. It only lasted about 30 to 45 seconds, and then it faded out as if it had never happened. Eventually, curiosity got the better of me. One morning as soon as I heard the music I jumped out of bed, threw on my robe and went outside.

Starting point is 00:03:42 The air was cold. The sky was just beginning to lighten. That was when I saw him or her up there on the hill. There was a figure tall and thin. It was slowly turning in circles while playing, as if it were dancing. It was surreal. I blinked and turned away for a second to grab the newspaper from the front step. When I looked back, the music had stopped and the figure was standing. completely still, facing me. We stayed like that, unmoving, watching each other through the morning fog. I couldn't make out any details, just a silhouette. After about 30 seconds, I got scared and went back inside. After that, little thing started happening. I would see footprints in the dirt of the empty lots, footprints I hadn't made. Tools would appear out of nowhere, like shovels or rakes

Starting point is 00:04:33 left lying around. I assumed they belonged to construction workers, even though I never actually saw any. Then the silent phone calls to my work started. No one on the other end, just silence. I stopped walking to the old farm. The hill and the violin had already left me unsettled enough, but there was one night I will never forget. It was late. I had my headphones on, gaming in the dark like usual. I got up to grab a beer from the fridge. And when I was I turned back toward the desk, I noticed something through the little window facing the fence, two faint lights, like little glowing dots floating just above the fence line. At first I didn't think much of them. I stepped closer, staring, and only when my face was almost pressed against

Starting point is 00:05:20 the glass did I realize they weren't lights. They were eyes, human eyes, wide open, unblinking. Someone was watching me, standing right on the other side of the fence. I froze completely my body locked up like someone had unplugged me. Then as if a switch had been flipped, I dropped to the floor and crawled behind the wall for cover. My heart was pounding so hard I swear I could hear it through the floorboards. Then the violin started playing right outside the window. Louder than ever before, and the melody was different this time.

Starting point is 00:05:55 Angry, frantic. Notes slipped. The string shrieked. It was like whoever was playing was losing control. Jeb barked once from the backyard, just once, but it was enough. The music stopped immediately. The silence that followed was almost worse. I didn't dare move.

Starting point is 00:06:15 Then Jeb let out another bark, deep and low. That was when I heard footsteps. Someone was walking along the side of the house. I finally reacted. Fear gave way to something else. Panic for my dog. I ran to the back door, opened it carefully after a house. undoing the latch and slidered open as quietly as I could. Jeb was standing there, planted like a statue,

Starting point is 00:06:38 staring at something in the darkness. I tried tugging him to get him inside, but he wouldn't move. Then he let out a bark so deep, so aggressive, that I almost jumped. It sounded like a warning shot. And then I heard the footsteps again, but this time they weren't just walking. They were dancing. Whoever it was was moving with a strange rhythm, like they were slowly spinning as they moved away from the house. It was unnatural, like a horror movie unfolding in real life. When the sounds finally faded away, Jeb relaxed and came back inside. I followed him, locked every door, and spent the night under the blankets with him beside me. I didn't sleep at all. That was the last time I saw or heard the violinist. The next morning I called in sick and contacted the police. They found a lot of

Starting point is 00:07:28 footprints near the side of my house, but they had nothing to work with. No real leads, just a tall figure seen once in the distance, an unsettling music that no one else had reported. The officers were kind. They said they would patrol the area for a few nights, but no one ever showed up. No one else heard the music. And that hill still forbidden, still fenced off, still a mystery. Since then, people have moved into the neighborhood. The stories spread by word of mouth, and now the hill has a nickname, Violin Hill. I've even heard parents use the story to scare their kids into behaving. I've tried searching for the melody online, hoping to find something that sounded like what I heard, but nothing came close. I think the person playing it made it

Starting point is 00:08:16 up, and that is what sends the biggest chill down my spine. I still live in the same house. I still game at night. The only difference is that now the blinds are always closed. a few years ago I was living alone in a rental house in northern California, located just outside the suburbs. It was a quiet neighborhood, the kind that feels peaceful and private without being too remote. There were no street lights, so it got very dark at night, especially when the sky was overcast. But honestly, I liked it. It gave the place a cozy feeling, almost like I was living in a little cabin. One winter night I got home from work after. a long shift in some unexpected overtime. Outside it was pitch black. The clouds were thick,

Starting point is 00:09:10 and the only thing lighting up my house was the glow from the porch light in my car's headlights. When I got out of the car, I caught a faint smell of cigarette smoke in the air. It struck me as odd. I didn't smoke, and I had never smelled that around the area before, but I didn't see anyone nearby, so I let it go and went inside. I was exhausted, so I took a quick shower and went to bed early, maybe around 7 o'clock. I had not even fully fallen asleep when I suddenly woke up convinced I had heard a noise inside the house. I did not panic right away. Sometimes a friend would stop by after work to use the shower before going to his night classes, and because of that I had given him a spare key, but he always let me know beforehand. I reached for my phone on the nightstand to check whether I had

Starting point is 00:09:56 missed a message. The screen lit up with a blinding brightness. This was back when phones did not automatically adjust brightness in the dark, and mine could light up a room like a flashlight. Squinting, I saw that it was a little after 9 p.m., but there were no new messages. Still half asleep and not truly alarmed, I called out my friend's name. That was when I heard it, heavy footsteps suddenly breaking into a run across the downstairs level of the house. In an instant, I jumped out of bed and dove into the closet. The upstairs layout was simple. two bedrooms on either side of the hallway and a bathroom at the end. As I pulled the closet door shut, I heard whoever it was sprint up the stairs.

Starting point is 00:10:39 I climbed up and felt around for the attic access hatch in the closet ceiling. I was just pulling myself up into the attic when the person ran past my bedroom door and went into the bathroom. That moment of distraction was the only reason I made it up in time. I had just pulled my legs into the attic when the bedroom door burst open. I was crouched only a couple of feet from the opening, my heart racing barely breathing. From that position I could only see as far as the person's legs. He was wearing old jeans and dirty workboots. He checked the closet, but luckily it never occurred to him to look up.

Starting point is 00:11:15 A few seconds passed before he backed away. Then there was a thunderous crash and a scream of pure rage. That sound stirred up some really bad memories. It sounded way too much like the way my stepfather used to yell. when he lost control before he ended up in a mental institution. The guy stormed back downstairs in a fury, knocking over furniture and throwing things everywhere. I did not dare move. I did not even have my phone with me. It was still on the nightstand. I stayed there in the attic counting. When I finally reached 1,000 in my head, I decided it might be safe. I climbed carefully back

Starting point is 00:11:53 down into my room. My mattress was completely flipped over. That must have been the loud crash I had heard earlier. My cell phone was gone, but luckily I still had a landline next to the bed. I called the police and stayed where I was until I heard them identify themselves from downstairs. The house was wrecked, chairs overturned, the couch flipped over, books and decorations scattered everywhere. In the kitchen the cabinets had been emptied and there were boxes and cans all over the floor. But the strangest part was that the only thing missing was a kitchen knife. The officers searched the property thoroughly.

Starting point is 00:12:31 The side door had been forced open, probably with a crowbar. Along the fence line, they found cigarette butts, foil, and an empty pen tube. Things that, they said, people used to smoke methamphetamine, which meant the person who broke in had probably been watching my house for some time. That cigarette smell I had noticed earlier. He was probably standing right outside the fence when I pulled into the driveway. They told me to stay with a friend or family member and to repair the door immediately. I decided not to sleep at all that night.

Starting point is 00:13:03 I barricaded the broken door with a bookshelf and stayed away cleaning. Every so often I shined a flashlight into the yard, but I did not see anything. The next day I fixed the door and installed motion sensor lights along the sides and back of the house. I also ran a phone line into the attic so I would never again be without a way to call for help. After that night nothing ever happened again. I stayed in that house for another three years without any incidents. But something did change. I started practicing.

Starting point is 00:13:35 I would rehearse how quickly I could jump out of bed, get into the closet, and climb into the attic. Even when I moved to a new place, I kept the routine. My new closet has a crawl space instead of an attic, but the idea is the same. I try not to think too much about what would have happened if I had not reacted so quick. or if that guy had decided to check the bathroom first. Story 3. This happened in 2013 when I was 17 years old. My family had just started looking at a new house near a river.

Starting point is 00:14:13 It was a really beautiful place, quiet and with a great view. It was a two-story home, somewhat secluded, and the man who had built it was still the owner. He met with us while we toured the house, and at first glance he seemed like a completely normal and friendly older man. He chattered a lot with my parents, made jokes, very animated. I stayed a little off to the side while they talked, not paying too much attention to him, but glancing up every now and then. And then I saw something that really shook me. In the middle of the conversation, there was a brief pause when the man looked away from my parents. His face changed instantly. Literally one second he was laughing and the next he had an expression of pure hatred and malice.

Starting point is 00:14:57 The frown was not just anger. It was dark, full of resentment, almost like he was a different person. He did not even realize I was watching him. He probably thought I was looking at my phone. But as soon as he turned back to my parents, boom, he was smiling again like nothing had happened. That image stayed burned into my mind. It gave me a very bad feeling. I told my mother, she agreed it was strange but brushed it off. She said maybe he was just socially awkward or something like that. Anyway, we ended up buying the house. A few days after moving in, we settled in quickly.

Starting point is 00:15:35 It was a Sunday morning and my family decided to go to church. I did not feel like going, so they left me home alone. It was probably around 11 a.m. when I started hearing loud banging coming from the side of the house. I was upstairs on the opposite side, and outside it was stormy. So at first I blamed it on the wind or something hit. the siding, but the banging had a rhythm, as if someone were doing it on purpose. It lasted maybe five minutes and then stopped. I let it go until about ten minutes later the truly disturbing part started. I began hearing noises inside the house, footsteps downstairs, furniture scraping,

Starting point is 00:16:14 the sound of kitchen drawers opening. I even heard the refrigerator door creak open. That was when it hit me. Someone was in the house. My stomach dropped. I immediately locked my bedroom door, grabbed the metal baseball bat I kept nearby, and called 911. While I was talking to the operator, I also texted my mother telling her that someone had broken in. She was about 30 minutes away, but she immediately said she was coming home. The operator told me the officers were about 10 minutes away. In the meantime, I could hear that person walking through the house as if he knew the layout. Every footstep came closer to the stairs.

Starting point is 00:16:53 and then I heard him going up, step by step. It was like a horror movie, and I was the only one there. I was barely five feet two inches and maybe weighed 100 pounds. I knew that if that guy got in, the bat in my hands would not do much. Then I heard him stop right in front of my bedroom door. The handle shook. It was locked. And that was it.

Starting point is 00:17:18 He did not say a word. He did not try to force it. He just stood there breathing. I could hear his breathing through the door. It could not have lasted more than ten seconds, but it felt like forever. Then he turned around and walked away. I heard him go back down the stairs. After that, the back door opened and closed.

Starting point is 00:17:40 A few minutes later, the police arrived. The operator asked me if I could go downstairs to let them in, or if they would need to break the door down. Since I had not heard anything else, I went down and opened it myself. They searched the whole house. There were no signs of forced entry, no broken windows, nothing stolen, just emptiness. My mother arrived a few minutes later. The first thing she did was look at my stepfather and ask, You changed the locks already, right?

Starting point is 00:18:10 He had not. That was when I really started to panic. But then came the part that confirmed everything I had experienced. My mother had vacuumed the upstairs hallway the night before. There were fresh footprints in the carpet, large ones, too large to belong to anyone in our family. And the strangest part, they stopped right outside my bedroom door. The police had not even gone upstairs yet, so we knew they were not from them. The man who sold us the house died about a year later.

Starting point is 00:18:41 I do not know what happened to him. We never spoke to him again after moving in, but I always wondered whether he still had a key, whether maybe he had been coming in even after selling the house, or whether deep down, he had never really let it go. So yes, please, if you ever move into a new place, change the locks. Story 4. It all started in 2019, right after I finished my master's degree. I had moved to a quiet little rural town to begin my doctorate,

Starting point is 00:19:17 and my father and I decided it made more sense to buy a house than to throw money away on rent for the next few years. It was a nice place, not too far from a dingy little bar that my dad ended up liking much more than he expected. That was where he met several locals and instantly connected with all of them. When they found out where I was going to live, they all told me the same thing. You're going to love it. Your neighbor next door is the nicest guy you'll ever meet. So naturally I met him, and yes, he seemed fairly friendly. Maybe a little awkward, but nothing that raised any alarms.

Starting point is 00:19:51 We exchanged numbers. Just in case, right? After all, what was the worst that could happen? I found out the same day my father left town. My neighbor texted me while I was out, saying he had left a gift on the porch. When I got home, I found a hand-painted feeder for my cats in the mailbox. At first, I thought maybe he was just trying to be nice, until he started calling me cutie and sweetie in his texts. That was when I made it clear that I was not interested in anything romantic. He backed off and said he only wanted to be to be friends. That friendship was all anyone really needs. But the messages kept coming. He invited me fishing, left little gifts on the porch. I was polite, but for the most part, I ignored him. I did not want to start a war with my next door neighbor, but I also wanted nothing to do with him. One night I got a message from the manager of the bar down the street. Do not open the door if your neighbor comes knocking. Apparently, he had shown up at the bar with an axe, saying he was was hearing voices and threatening to hurt someone if the voices did not stop. They called the police,

Starting point is 00:20:58 but they did not arrest him. They just took the axe away and let him go. The bar manager let me stay at her house that night. She told me the officers suspected he was on meth. After that, I kept even more distance, but things got stranger. One morning I went outside and found a dead squirrel placed right next to my car door. It had obviously been hit by a car and then moved there on purpose. When I came back later, the squirrel was gone. And of course, my neighbor texted me something like, someone or something left a dead squirrel next to your car. Don't worry, I removed it for you.

Starting point is 00:21:35 Yeah, very subtle. Then there was the shotgun shell casing. I saw it sitting on the bricks in his yard one day. And when I asked him about it, he said it was a warning to anyone who dared to walk between our houses. He texted me constantly the moment I pulled into the driveway. Always watching, always commenting. Around Halloween, he built a full-size coffin and put it outside with the words.

Starting point is 00:22:01 Here lies the last son of a who played mind games, November 2012. I have no idea what that meant, but I knew it was nothing good. Eventually, I stopped responding to his messages altogether. Two weeks later, he threw a 50-pound concrete planter at my front door. I called the police. They told me to apply for a no-contact. order for stalking. A few days later, my TV screen lit up with a notification that someone was trying to cast a video to it. It was him. I rejected the request twice. I filed another report.

Starting point is 00:22:36 Around that time, I had to leave town for a conference. While I was away, someone tried to get into my house. Luckily, my security system stopped them. Then COVID hit, and I ended up trapped at home alone next to my stalker. He started texting me again. He told me he knew he had made me uncomfortable, that he was sorry, but that he had noticed my hair was longer and that I looked beautiful. I took all of this to court, every disturbing message, every attempt at manipulation, and I put it all in front of the judge. He did not deny any of it.

Starting point is 00:23:11 In fact, he agreed with everything I said and claimed he was trying to start over. The judge granted the protection order in March 2020. For a while everything calmed down. least until he started using drugs again. That was when I found another shotgun shell in my flower bed. Right after I had started dating my boyfriend, I am sure it was meant for him. So my boyfriend moved in quickly, and it was the right decision. Then New Year's Day 2021 came. I woke up to him screaming obscenities from his window toward my window for seven straight minutes. Threats, insults, profanity. He called me a whore. He said he would blow his house up.

Starting point is 00:23:52 I called the police. They shrugged and told me it was not a violation of the order because he never said my name. There is nothing illegal about yelling inside your own house, they said. I did what I had to do. I started parking on the street instead of in the driveway, kept the curtains closed 24-7. I installed five security cameras and spent more than a thousand dollars just trying to feel safe in my own home. And still the harassment continued. He shouted non-thousalty-one. in the yard, talk to people who are not there. One day he yelled, I have Cheerios on my necklace. Another day it was, I'll put my penis in your butt. I wish I were making that up. Last week I heard him scream, someone's going to die over this sweatshirt, and how about I get my shotgun? I called the police

Starting point is 00:24:44 again. They gave him a citation for disturbing the piece. That was it. Last night he started sawing through his own privacy fence horizontally at 1 a.m. right outside my bedroom window. Now his fence barely blocks anything, and the only comfort I had, knowing I could go into my backyard without him watching me, is gone. I am exhausted. I am angry. I am tired of pretending I am not afraid in my own house. My boyfriend and I are doing everything we can to save up and move. But I am a doctoral student. I have four cats, and I do not have much money. I am. I do not have much renting is not an option with that many animals. My father agreed to co-sign the new mortgage and I took a second job. We are close, but until then I am still stuck. I just want a safe place to live. Somewhere I do not have to worry about my neighbor throwing concrete planters at my door, trying to break in or screaming death threats at one in the morning. Somewhere I do not have to live in fear. So yes, I am just venting, but if you are listening, please take stalking seriously. Trust your instincts.

Starting point is 00:25:53 And if someone gives you a bad feeling, do not wait to set boundaries. I wish I had done it sooner. Story 5. It happened when I was still just a child, sometime in late October, when my family moved into an old two-story house. I remember it was one of those gray windy mornings that cut right through your jacket. We were excited to start fresh, even though the house itself had an unsettling feeling I could not quite put into words.

Starting point is 00:26:26 The front windows looked like cold, dark eyes staring down at us from the second floor. But I was a kid, and to me a new house meant adventure. While my parents were busy unpacking, I did what any curious child would do. Snoop around. Every room, every closet, every little corner of that creaky old house seemed like it might be hiding something interesting or forgotten. I did not find pirate treasure or secret passageways like I had hoped, but I did find something in the basement that I will never forget. The basement was freezing cold and smelled like damp wood

Starting point is 00:27:00 and dust. The lighting was dim and I immediately noticed a metal hook hanging from the ceiling for no obvious reason. At the time I assumed it was for hanging things, some kind of storage system or something like that. But what really caught my attention was the floor. It was made of the same old creaky boards as the rest of the house. Only down there they seemed even more worn and fragile. I walked around a little until all of a sudden one of the boards gave way beneath my foot. My leg dropped straight through and pain shot up through me like fire. I started screaming. My parents came running downstairs and my father had to carefully pull me out. My leg hurt badly, but luckily it was not broken. Then something strange happened. While my father was

Starting point is 00:27:47 helping me up, he looked down into the hole and froze, completely still. I will never forget the way his face changed. He barely said anything. He just told my mother to take me upstairs immediately. No explanation. I was halfway up the stairs when I looked back and saw my father staring at the hook on the ceiling and then back down at the hole in the floor. Something about all of it felt very wrong. That same afternoon I heard him arguing on the phone with someone, probably the real estate agent. You didn't tell me what happened here, he said. He sounded scared. even furious. The very next day, out of nowhere, a moving truck showed up. My parents packed everything at record speed. When I asked what was going on, they only told me to gather my things because we were

Starting point is 00:28:35 going back to our previous house. That was it. No explanation, no discussion we left. Years later, when I was older and finally asked them about it, they hesitated. You could tell they had been dreading that question for a long time. My father sat me down and told me what he had seen in the basement that day. Apparently, beneath the floor where I had fallen through, there was a stash of knives, machetes, and other horrible tools. But that was not even the worst part. Mixed in with all of that were small human remains. Fingers, a gouged out eye, things no one should ever have to find. That night after I had gone to bed, they called the police. Investigators came and discovered even more body parts hidden beneath the floorboards, legs, arms, even a human head.

Starting point is 00:29:23 That house had belonged to a man who was deeply disturbed. He kidnapped people and tortured them in that very basement, hanging them from that hook in the ceiling. The room was practically soundproof, so no one heard the screams. And according to the reports, the man was skilled at keeping his victims alive for as long as possible, cutting them little by little and enjoying their pain. They said he kept body parts as twisted trophies beneath the floorboards. Hearing all of that turned my stomach.

Starting point is 00:29:53 I had been walking through the same place where people had been brutalized, completely unaware. I thought I was searching for forgotten toys or trinkets, not someone else's nightmare. To this day, I cannot get the images out of my head. I still see the hook, still hear imagined screams in the dark. Even though I was too young to understand it then, now I know exactly what I stumbled upon. Story 6 It all started when I moved to a new place in the summer of 2019. I had just started working the night shift at a hotel, so I was used to being awake during the hours when most people are asleep.

Starting point is 00:30:36 The living situation was a little unusual. I lived with my landlady, her elderly mother, and my best friend Daisy. The house was in a quiet residential area, not far from a busy intersection with a stop sign where cars would often idle, especially at night. Because finding street parking was a nightmare, my landlady, who had lived in a little. there her whole life and knew practically everyone in the neighborhood. Let me park across the street in the empty driveway of a vacant house. It was perfect because when I parked there, I could see our front porch in my rearview mirror. Daisy and I were inseparable. We had met in college and practically did everything together. That summer we had a routine, going out late at night, getting greasy fast food,

Starting point is 00:31:21 and driving along the coast with the windows down and the music blasting. A way to blow off stress, you One Thursday, around 1.45 in the morning, we had just gotten back from one of those drives. We were parked in the driveway of that empty house, finishing our food and letting the last songs play. I remember that by then I already had the windows rolled up, but we both heard the roar of a large vehicle approaching the stop sign. I looked in the rearview mirror, and sure enough it was one of those creepy beat-up white vans. I joked, look Daisy, the classic suspicious white van. Like I was narrowed. the beginning of a horror movie. Except, in a way I was. From the passenger seat of the van,

Starting point is 00:32:04 an extremely thin man leaned over and started taking pictures of our house. Five, maybe six shots, with the flash on, as if he was not even trying to hide it. Daisy and I froze. We did not say anything. We just looked at each other. Both of us understanding without words that something was very wrong, the van sped off down the street almost immediately. The next morning we told my landlady everything. I expected her to be surprised, maybe even worried. Instead, she brushed it off. She said it was not the first time a tenant had complained about a van driving around.

Starting point is 00:32:41 But anyone taking pictures of your house at nearly 2 in the morning is not doing it with innocent intentions. That much was obvious. Time passed and the news about COVID started coming out. As the virus spread and lockdowns began, something strange happened. The van stopped showing up. I had been paying attention ever since that night and had even managed to memorize most of the license plate after seeing it a few more times.

Starting point is 00:33:07 It always came between 1 o'clock and 1.30 a.m., always from the same direction. The van would sit at the stop sign longer than normal and then suddenly peel away as if it were running from something that was not there. And then all of a sudden it stopped. By early February 2020, there were no more drive-bys, no more picture. no more flashes, nothing. I thought maybe the person got sick or that the pandemic disrupted his routine. Whatever the reason I felt relieved. Over time, I let it go. I stopped staying awake watching that corner. I stopped obsessing over the license plate. I stopped riding down every sighting.

Starting point is 00:33:48 Even so, even now, if I hear a loud diesel engine passing at night, my pulse speeds up. I still tense up, wondering if that van is back. I have thought about picking it back up again, maybe even following up with the police once the stay-at-home orders were lifted. Just to make sure it really disappeared because there is something about all of it that never fully sat right with me.

Horror Stories - 6 Disturbing TRUE New House Horror Stories That Turned Dream Homes Into Nightmares

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