Home sweet nightmare

I'm 25 years old and am still in the paying my dues phase of life. I graduated high school with less than average grades. And am now going to a technical college while working part time. My family is well off, mom's a lawyer and dad is an airplane mechanic. But I wanted to make a name for myself just like they did. So that's why I've been grinding so hard lately. The only thing is, my family's home is on the outskirts of town. To make it into the city I have to drive almost an hour every single day. My parents could tell this was getting to me, so they had an idea. I had an uncle who was also an airplane mechanic and even taught my dad the tricks of the trade. Unfortunately though, he passed away about six months ago due to an illness.

He had no wife or kids, so when he died everything was left to his little brother. Among his belongings was a nice home about five minutes away from town. My dad thought I could cut down on my gas by moving there. I didn't see a problem with this, especially since it was so close to civilization. So with a shrug of my shoulders, I said okay. The story I'm about to tell is what happened while I lived in that house. I remember it was a bright and sunny day, sweltering hot in fact. My dad and I pulled up to the home with most of my belongings in tow. The house was two stories tall and painted a hunter's green color.

Aside from a few loose tiles and chipping paint, it was a nice place. I remembered staying here a few times when I was a kid. My uncle was pretty boring and had nothing for children to do. In fact, there was only one TV in the entire house. Inside I noticed that mostly everything was unchanged. Albeit some sheets covering the furniture to keep dust off. I noticed a photograph sitting atop the mantle. It was a picture of me, my dad and my uncle when we went fishing many years ago. My uncle was a quiet man that never had much to say. I often wondered why he never had a family of his own. When I asked he'd say that he was old and contrary, always following up with a giggle. He used to tell me how important hard work was. How I could get anything I wanted and never have to beg if I sweated for it.

While we weren't that close, I could honestly say I'd miss him. After the trip down memory lane, my dad and I started hauling in my belongings. I didn't have much, just a tv, clothes and game consoles. In the middle of moving, I picked up on something odd. The house seemed to give off a very strange odor. I couldn't put my finger on it, maybe a dead rat in the walls if I had to guess. My uncle had been gone a while, so I figured that was normal. Maybe some air fresheners would make that go away. After a few hours of heavy lifting, I was settled into my new bachelor pad. Well it wasn't new, but it was going to be my home for the time being. I felt a tinge of excitement, this was really a new start for me. My first shot at a little thing called adulthood.

My first night there had me pretty nervous. I hugged my dad goodbye and now it was just me and this old house. It all seemed so big for a guy just moving out of his childhood bedroom. While laying in bed watching a movie, I began to hear some strange noises. Light thuds and creaks echoed just outside my new bedroom. The house itself was pretty old and my uncle lived here for over forty years. So I chalked it up to the foundation settling. After my flick I went to sleep, dreading the day of school and work ahead of me. After a few days passed, things seemed relatively normal. Albeit that strange smell that didn't seem to go away. I sprayed air freshener, mopped the floors. But nothing seemed to get rid of that odd scent.

Not only that, but sometimes it felt as if someone was watching me. Like eyes drilling into the back of my head; but I ended up blaming it on adult life jitters. Though, there was one night that I still can't explain. I had come home from a tough day at work when I noticed something off. When I left that morning, every light was off and the doors were locked. Upon returning however, my home was fully illuminated. I quickly killed my engine and looked on in confusion. My parents would have called if they were coming over; and I had the only key in my pocket. Things got worse as I noticed three silhouettes walking around inside.

Naturally my next move was to dial 911 and wait in fear. Who was in my house and why, my uncle never had any problems with burglars. About five minutes later, three police cars pulled up next to me. Once I explained the situation, they drew their guns and inched towards my house. About five cops took up position and kicked my door in. It was safe to say I was scared to death; was I really about to witness a shootout? It took a while, but eventually the policeman came out wearing some annoyed looks. They explained to me that there was no one in my house. I argued that I had just seen three people moving around, but they looked at me like I was a crazed addict. Even giving me a patdown and a sobriety test.

Seeing I was clean, the men implored me to go inside and get some rest. Maybe I had left the lights on and was just overreacting a bit. I still ended up calling my parents and sharing my harrowing tale. Though at the time, they were away on vacation. And acted as if I was interrupting their good time. Telling me that if I changed the locks and got cameras; everything would be fine. So I tried my best to forget about it, putting this strange moment behind me. Time passed and unfortunately odd things kept happening. I would be at home on my days off watching movies and playing video games. When suddenly I would hear voices calling out to me from other rooms. They cried out for help, and it was always the same when I went to investigate…not a soul in sight.

Top this off with that damn smell and I became so stressed out. I started picking up more hours at work so I didn't have to be in that house. It seemed like whenever I was there I just felt horrible. Like all the bricks and boards had some kind of hold over me. Then one evening, I had an experience that brought me to my wits end. I was fast asleep in my bed, when I had this weird dream. I saw two little girls about four and six running down a long hallway. One had matted blonde hair and a ripped up nightgown. Tears streamed down her face but she tried to keep quiet. The other had short brown hair and a sense of bravery about her. While afraid herself, she wasn't going to let the other child know it.

Imploring her to keep running and not make any sounds. They ran and ran, eventually reaching a door at the end of a hallway. The older child reached for the handle, confident that freedom was in their grasp. Unfortunately as the door opened, someone blocked their path. It was a tall and very scary looking man. I couldn't see his face, but the girl's horrified expressions were enough. The man reached out for them, squashing any hopes of escaping. Before I could see what happened next, I awoke in a cold sweat unable to catch my breath. Thinking it was just a nightmare, I got up to get myself a sip of water. But as I opened my bedroom door, I got the biggest shock of my life. As the same two girls from my dream ran right past me holding hands. They made it to the end of the hallway before disappearing. Right before they were able to reach the same door from my dream.

I instantly dropped to my knees and screamed. So overcome with grief that I was now crying myself. I called my parents and asserted that something was going on in this house. At this point, my mom suggested that there had to be a carbon monoxide leak or mold making me sick. I bought it, so we decided that it was time to remodel. The house needed work, so why not do it instead of being poisoned to death. I ended up taking a couple days off work and my dad bought all the supplies. We were ready to go and started with the dilapidated old basement. Down there was nothing but spider webs and a few old Christmas trees. I had high hopes that the renovation would take care of all the problems I'd been having. It was going to be hard work, but I'm sure in the end I would have a normal place to live.

Or so I thought, as we started digging into the dirt floor. We found something that no words in my vocabulary could describe. Below the dirt were hundreds upon hundreds of bones. At first we thought it could be an animal's bones; my uncle had a few pets. But the more we dug, the more horrors we unearthed. Skulls, human spinal cords, and even clothing. Tattered and dirty outfits that belonged to children. The smell from before also got worse, so bad that we couldn't keep from gagging. Once out of the basement, my dad didn't hesitate to call the police. Both of us sat silent while waiting, unsure of what to do.

Once the cops arrived, they couldn't believe what was down there. Within minutes my home was thrown into utter chaos. With what seemed like the entire police force surrounding the area. Detectives and coroner's filled the basement. We watched in shock as they carted out fifteen body bags. With that putrid smell permeating from each one. I guess I know where it came from now. Eventually an officer told us that this was an active crime scene, and that we had to vacate the premises. Back at my parents, we were still so shocked. What was the story here, why were all these people dead?

I'll never forget that evening, as we all sat in the living room. The news came on and there was my house. The reporter standing outside said that more than fifteen people were killed and buried here. Mostly little girls, the police were unsure of how they died. But within a few days, the information would rush in like a flood. After DNA tests and combing every inch of the property, they concluded that my uncle was a serial killer. For years he had kidnapped kids and done unspeakable things to them.

News vans filled the driveway of our family's home. Demanding for us to come out and provide some explanation. My parents were inconsolable, they couldn't believe my uncle could hurt anyone…much less a child. My dad took it really hard, in disbelief that his older brother was capable of such atrocities. I couldn't understand it either, that man babysat me and was present at every gathering. It was safe to say that I had years of therapy ahead of me. As for the house, we obviously had it demolished. How could someone live in a place that laid claim to such horror. There was also one other thing I was sure of now.

I never believed in the paranormal or ghosts. But the voices I heard, pleading for help. The little girls I saw, terrified and running for their lives. My uncle slaughtered them all, and they were trying to let me know. As time went on, we moved away. My dad ended up retiring early and became a recluse, who could blame him. As for me, I finished school and started my career. But I'll never forget the notorious serial killer that was…my uncle.