I don't expect people who come across this blog to believe anything that I say. I expect people to come to their own conclusions about anything they wish. So, when I speak of something as an absolute truth, it may be for me, it may not be for you, and that is okay! Take it as an act of fiction, take it as an act of 'what if...?' or put your own logic to it. It's okay! We're all friends here.
So, I was looking around at some things regarding demonology for something I'm writing, and was spurred into remembering about something. This is actually fairly hilarious.
My now passed grandmother (hereby referred to as oma because that's easier) was always a special woman. Vanity and abuse was her way of doing things. I never could encounter her without ending up feeling really ugly and horrible about myself. And I got it easy compared to my mother.
She was a child growing up in the Rhineland in Germany during WWII. Affluent family line, but even for them, supplies were hard to come by. Feeding her already growing thirst for dragon's treasure, one year for her birthday she asked for golden earrings. She was the youngest, by the way. So, out her father went and traded out food for these damn earrings, and it started a decline of her existence. She was apparently referred to in her teen years as The Brush because all she'd do was brush her hair constantly and hit on American soldiers.
You can probably tell where this is going and how my mother came to be.
Years of increasing mental psychosis later--pretty sure she was sociopathic, because she was smart enough to fool shrinks she was sent to by doctors who shoved her that way then blacklisted her for being a hypochondriac--she would call in a panic, saying people had been in her house! Stealing her things! Laughing and running around!
It only got creepy when my grandfather (now opa) confirmed he could hear these things as well.
Now, it's my belief that people who are a certain way leave themselves susceptible to... attachments. You can call it bad karma, negative vibes, I call it things that laugh and stomp around the house in the middle of the night. I'm not saying the woman was possessed, I'm just saying her flippant disregard for humanity--such as getting waitresses and store clerks fired by accusing them of sleeping with my opa when they'd never met before--got her a... posse.
Posse is a good word.
So, her health went on the decline, and the activity got worse. Hell, this could've even been a poltergeist thing even though she wasn't exactly an adolescent, I dunno. But my opa reported it escalated and he's never been a religious or superstitious type, so we took him serious.
Then she passed away and the house went quiet. Too quiet for his liking, but more on that in a minute.
He came to visit a few months ago. The first day he was here, a light blew out above us and we woke up to the fifth wheeler we own blasting country music when no one had been in there for days.
He reported the house went quiet of all this clattering when she died, but that shit was too weird. It's possible he has a floater? Or some reminent? It's not HER, she didn't like country music. She liked that old 1930s-1940s German... polka... folk music stuff. And I imagine her haunting us would be more her flinging the door open on us when we're changing clothes or showering like she used to when she was visiting.
ANYWAY, he still says his house is quiet. He's preparing to move closer to us, you know, so he has showings of the house. He goes out to his car across the street, lets the people roam free in his house a while, and goes in when they leave.
Well, I guess a woman went in a couple of days ago, spent no more than ten seconds in there, before hauling ass out of the house. When he asked the realtor what the hell her deal was, the baffled man just said, "She... says she saw something that disturbed her greatly." And that's all he's saying.
It's amusing to say the least. No one's been hurt, so it'll stay amusing until that time, whatever 'it' is.
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