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Categories: tombstone, cemetery, man
I know how this is going to sound to many people. In fact, I'm kind of embarrassed to be the one writing about it now, however, there is a small home on Sunset Drive in Rittman Ohio that is more than haunted, I honestly feel it's the gateway to Hell, right here on earth.
Now, before I begin, let me describe the home to you. The casual passerby wouldn't look at it twice, and if they did they would see a very quaint, very unassuming little brick home seated on a massive 1 acre lot which spills into a picture perfect forest and gully setting. The casual passerby might even look at this place as the kind of home your grandmother would reside in -- however, there is something more than dark dwelling on that property, it gives me chills just thinking about my direct encounter(s) while living there.|
I moved in with my wife, Helen and our 3 children during the spring. My oldest boy slept in the single room upstairs, while my twins shared a room downstairs, just across the hallway from the room my wife and I shared. I would say ''things'' began happening almost right away from that point forward.|
Our first night, my wife and I were both woke to the sound of children laughing hysterically. Thinking our kids were up making a mess of the place, I got out of bed to catch them in the act. When I opened the door, the house was as dark and asleep as you'd expect. Looking in on the twins, I saw they were sound asleep. Confused, I went back to bed and just before I fell asleep, I heard more laughter. This time it sounded older, almost like an older woman laughing. A Witch's cackle. It was coming from the kitchen area. Springing from bed, I went to look and again saw that the house was silent and asleep. A kind of low ''talking'' , like a conversation, from the basement area forced me to open the door and peer down inside. Distinctly, I heard the phrase, ''just a matter of time,'' come from the darkened and empty basement. Shaking my head, thinking I was ''over tired'' from the physical move, I laughed and closed the door to return to bed. As I turned around, I felt a sharp chill on the back of my neck-- a chill that stopped me dead in my tracks.
About a week later, I came in from working at Morton Salt, to find my wife as mad as a hornet. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me that our youngest daughter was ''playing'' with some strange old man in the backyard. She said by the time she put her shoes on, the man was gone, but a huge bruise was on our daughter's wrist. When I looked at my daughter, sure enough, there was a deep black bruise. I asked who was her ''friend'' that mommy saw her playing with, she said, ''the man that lives in our basement, he wants me to visit him sometime when mommy's not home''.
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