Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Hooded Figures

I don't really tell this story often because I know it sounds insane and my wife hates it when I bring it up.

Anyways, my wife and I moved to a really small, mountain town just outside of a bigger town in the Northwest. The town we lived in was incredibly small and only had a population of about 475 people. We found a beautiful house to rent, though, and decided to try it out.

It was two-story and had a huge yard that backed up to the woods, and there were no neighbors for about a mile in any direction. It also had huge glass windows downstairs so you could take in all of the beautiful scenery outside. The yard wasn't fenced, so whenever I let our Pomeranian, Peanut, outside to do his business, I kept a watchful eye on him in case any wild animals wanted to make him into a lunchable.

All in all, things were great, the people that we met in town were incredibly welcoming and friendly, and there was a picturesque little mainstreet that had a bank, a pizza place, a grocery store, and a small park and public pool. Beautiful place.

We had been there for about a month, and were just about settled in when one night, I woke up at about 3 am in desperate need of a glass of water. When I got up, I noticed that peanut wasn't in his dog bed (we keep it in a corner of our bedroom), and I thought that was incredibly odd, but I shrugged it off and walked down to the kitchen, figuring that he maybe hid under the bed to sleep (he does that sometimes). I get down to the kitchen, and it's pitch black outside.

As I shuffle across the kitchen floor towards the cupboard, I see a small silhouette. When my eyes focus, I see that it's Peanut. He is standing perfectly still, staring intently at the sliding glass door. He's not barking, and he seems like his hair is standing on end (but it's really hard to tell with Pomeranians...their poofy hair is always standing on end). I follow his gaze and see two large figures wearing cloaks with hoods, just standing at my backdoor (which was a sliding glass door).

They were just standing there, not moving, not trying to get in or anything, their faces obscured by their hoods and just silently watching me. I freeze in terror for a long minute, and one lifts his hand in a silent wave-type thing.

I flip my shit and scream for my wife to phone the sheriff, and the guys turn around and begin walking back towards the woods. Peanut finally begins yapping his head off (some guard dog he is). I grab and load my revolver and head out to check the perimeter (probably a dumb move), and I can't find any trace of the assholes.

The sheriff comes out and he finds nothing but boot prints in one of the flowerbeds under one of the downstairs windows. Without more evidence, the sheriff couldn't really do anything besides filing a report, and he tries to convince me that it was probably some highschool kids screwing around. My wife and I are terrified, and I decide to keep a watchful eye open for the next few nights in case these "teens" try to do something like this again.

The first two nights after the event, nothing happens. I camp out at the kitchen table with my gun, looking out into the woods for any signs of movement, checking doors and windows constantly, etc.
However, the third night, I see some movement in the woods. It was them. Two cloaked figures, silently moving towards the house. I sit there frozen again, watching them make their way towards my back door. All of the lights in my house were off, so they probably weren't able to see me sitting in the dark kitchen their distance halfway across the yard.

As they get closer, I jump up from the chair, knocking it over and running to fumble with the back door screaming at my sleeping wife to call the sheriff.

They obviously heard me, or at least heard me fumbling to open the door, and began to turn around and walk back into the woods. At that point, I hear a BANG! on my front door, and realize there must be a third one at the front of my house. I run out into my back yard and scream at them that they better not fucking come back, and I shoot my gun into the air for effect. I see the dark figure that must have been in my front yard dart along the side of my yard into the woods, probably catching up with the others.

I hustle back in and lock the doors, and my wife has come downstairs at this point. Keep in mind that she never saw the hooded figures the first night, and I think she secretly might have suspected I was just tired and seeing things. Now, however, she was terrified. She had come downstairs when I yelled, and saw the one who must have banged on the front door standing in front of the living room window, lifting up his hand to wave at her. The sheriff came back out and again, nothing could be found, and another worthless report was filed.

I was pissed and scared, and of course I kept a vigilant watch the rest of the time we were there. The "kids" (or whoever they were) never came least, to my knowledge.
When our lease was up, we moved the fuck out of there. It probably was some dumbass, small-town kids trying to have some sick, twisted version of "fun," but it has seriously affected me.
I'm paranoid about windows and doors, and I always sleep with my gun close by. My wife can't look out of windows at night anymore. Our new house has pretty much every security measure imaginable (an alarm system, motion sensor lights, heavy locks, etc). Anyhow, that's our story. We also ended up buying a big german shepherd, and though Peanut was initially pretty jealous, they are now quite good friends and my wife and I feel a lot safer with her patrolling the yard.

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