The Twin House: A Scary Story

When I was a kid, I would spend summers at my grandparents house. I have a lot of good memories from those months. My brother and I would spend practically whole days exploring the woods that were part of the property. They owned a couple miles of woodland around their house, a large Victorian style home that was a little out of place in the rural farming community they were a part of.

When I say rural I mean very rural. There home was several miles away from the nearest neighbor. Because of this, there weren’t many other kids around for us to play with. My brother and I were mostly on our own when we played. We didn’t mind though. In fact, the open woods and the lack of people really allowed our imaginations to run wild.

 One summer, when I was ten and my brother was around eight we headed off to a portion of the woods that we had always avoided before. For as far back as we could remember, our grandparents had warned us that this particular area of their property was off limits. It was marked by a creek that was almost always dry in the summer and by several piles of rocks that were spaced out every five feet or so. These piles were made of smooth round stones taken from the creek bed.

While it might seem a little strange in hindsight, as kids we didn’t really question these stone piles or why this part of the woods was considered off limits. When we wandered, my brother and I usually stayed pretty close to the house and my grandma or grandpa were almost always somewhere nearby keeping an eye on us.

But that day, our grandparents were working on some home repair projects and were busying supervising the men they had hired to paint their house. This meant my brother and I could slip away.

For the first time we went down into the dry creek bed and climbed up the other side. I remember we paused just at the edge of one of the stone piles. We briefly hesitated at crossing this threshold but we were both too curious to head back.

Since I was the oldest, I went ahead of my little brother keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Our grandparents had always told us that this part of their property was more wild than the other parts and that was definitely true.

The further and further we went beyond the stones, the more dense the trees and vegetation became. The branches were so thick that only a few slivers of sunlight could get in.

We were both used to the woods though so we didn’t feel scared. That was, until we found the other house.

At first all I could see in the distance was some faded wood paneling, but as we got closer the trees began to get less tight and the full shape of the structure came into view

We came into a clearing and I finally saw the structure in its entirety. The building was a house but not just any house. It was an exact replica of my grandparents house. Same Victorian design, same layout.

This twin house though had clearly been abandoned for years. The windows were broken and the wood was flaking and the structure inside and out was rotting and falling apart. Moss and ivy had also started growing on the outside.

This was not the creepy part of it though. As we took in the site of this large Victorian house sitting abandoned in the middle of the forest my brother said: ‘Dave, there are scratches.’

He pointed and I followed his finger to the outside of the open front door. Sure enough, there were scratches all over the doorway and not just random claw marks but odd pictographs. Eyes and triangles and what looked like stick figures.

We must have looked at these weird carvings for a few minutes before I said: ‘Alright, let’s go in.’

‘No!’ Dave said. ‘I’m staying here!’

Deep down I was as scared as my little brother but I’ve always been a curious type. Sometimes too curious for my own good.

‘Ok, you stay here.’ I said. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

Even though he was scared, my brother nodded and stood where he was. I took several baby steps up the steps that led to the house’s veranda. The boards held my weight alright, so I kept going.

The first thing that struck me as I entered was the layout. Inside, the house was the same as my grandparent’s home. There was an entry room with a staircase leading to the next floor. The kitchen was on my right and the living room on my left.

But that was where the similarities to the other house ended. The paint was faded and chipped and many of the floorboards were rotting and torn up. There was no furniture in either the kitchen or living room and the whole house had a very eerie feeling to it.

After testing the first few steps on the stairway, I decided it was stable enough and slowly made my way up to the second floor. It took a while as I was constantly trying to make sure I didn’t make a wrong step and go flying through the boards.

When I finally reached the upstairs, I felt a sudden chill come through me. There were three rooms; again, just like my grandparent’s house they were laid out in the same way. In their house our bedrooms were all on the second level.

Like the first level though, the second floor of this house seemed completely empty. The room that was in the same place as my grandparent’s bedroom was empty so was the smaller room to the left of the stairs that was the our shared bathroom. Then, there was the third room. In our house, this was where my brother and I slept. And, just like at my grandparents’ place, the third room had a bright sky blue door. It was the exact same color.

I stared in shock at the bright blue door. It was the only door I had seen in the doppelganger house. It was also perfectly clean. The paint was fresh and unchipped.

I might have turned back then but something pushed me to step forward and put my hands on the door and I slowly opened it.

What I found inside is hard to describe to this day. Inside was a bed, a chair an old dollhouse and bookshelves. It was a fully furnished bedroom and it was entirely intact and clean. Like someone had come inside that day and dusted everything off. It looked like someone’s, a child’s bedroom. Unlike every other room in the house it was pristine. It was like I had crossed into a completely different realm.

I stepped inside and took a closer look at everything. There were vintage books and toys. Stuff that looked like it was from the 1930s or 40s.

None of this however was in the room I shared with Dave back at my grandparents house. The room might have had the same antiquated style but our room had two beds and there were no toys. I wanted to explore more but just as I was about to sit down on the bed, I heard a scream. I ran to a window on the second floor and looked down outside to see my brother hiding behind one of the nearby trees.

‘What the hell happened?!’ I yelled from the window.

‘I I don’t know.’ Dave cried. ‘Just come down and let’s get out of here!’

So we did. We ran from those woods and didn’t stop until we were well back behind the stone piles and the dry creek bed.

We didn’t tell our grandparents about what had happened, and it took a while, almost another two days before Dave told me what had happened to him.

It turned out that while I was in the room, he felt a shiver and he went completely cold. Despite the sun shining and it being a hot summer day, Dave said that he felt as if he was inside a freezer. And as he started to shake from the cold suddenly something picked him up from behind and spun him around in a circle. He said it felt like when our dad would pick us up and spin us around when we were really little. Only, after he was let go there was nothing there.

It was never clear to us what happened because the next year when we returned to our grandparents’ home for our summer visit I went back and the stones and the house were completely gone. No trace of them left.  When I couldn’t find the dilapidated home I asked my grandpa that night about it and he said scolded me pretty harshly. Saying, ‘That part of the woods, is no good. Just trust me and never go back there again.’

I never did and eventually my grandparents sold their property and moved to a new place. Their land was turned into a cattle ranch and the woods cut down. To this day I don’t know what happened to us or why but every time I think back to that blue door, I can’t help but feel cold all over.

'Behind The Doors' A Scary Forest Story

I was five years old when my mother passed away in a car accident. My dad never remarried and so he raised me and my older brother alone, with a lot of support from my grandparents.

Because I didn’t really know my mom too well, my dad always told me stories about her so that I’d have some idea of who she was.

He mostly told funny stories about the times they spent together; Their first dates, his awkward proposal using my uncle’s accordion etc. But there was one story he told me, when I was about to graduate from college, that even years later makes me go cold thinking about.

When he told me this story we were alone on the porch of a cabin we had rented for a few days. It was kind of a last family trip before I went off to UCLA for my Masters. My dad had been drinking a little more than he usually did and I think that’s why he finally felt comfortable telling me this unusually creepy story from the early days of his relationship with my mom.

 

The story goes like this:

In 1977 he and my mom met as sophomores in college at a dorm party. To celebrate their one year anniversary, they decided to take a trip to a nearby national park and go hiking for Memorial Day weekend. Their classes ended on that Friday so they actually had four full days to trek before they needed to go back to school. 

 

They drove off to the park, left my dad’s pickup truck in the lot and started their trek in the middle of Friday afternoon. The first day was spent hiking through some gorgeous wilderness and taking in the beauty of the nature.

They set up camp on the edge of a small lake and watched some deer by the shore before enjoying a few drinks around the campfire. My dad said that this was the day he knew that he loved my mom and when he began to seriously think that she might be the one.

The smile on his face when he talked about that first day was, well something that makes me smile now.

The next day they started up early, before sunrise. The next stop on their trek was a small mountain that was pretty much at the center of the park. Their plan was to camp at the base and then hike up to a lookout point about halfway up the slope on the third day.

Unfortunately, things didn’t work out that way. The map my dad had of the park’s various trails was actually a few years old. What he didn’t realize was that the Park had altered its trails around the mountain the previous year and so my parents quickly got confused.

 

Eventually after a lot of debating they decided to pick a smaller trail that split off from one of the main ones. Based on the map, it seemed to match with a lesser traveled trail that my dad thought would lead to their campsite.

 

As you might have guessed, that didn’t happen. While they did get within sight of the mountain, the trail they took them deep into the forest. Eventually it just disappeared altogether. They could have turned around but by the time it became obvious that they weren’t where they needed to be, the sun was already starting to set. So my mom and dad decided to just keep moving towards the mountain until they found a place to sleep for the night.

 

Since there wasn’t really a trail to follow anymore, they had to make their way through some dense vegetation and clusters of trees.

 

Just when they were beginning to think that they might have to hike at night, my mom spotted tall grass in the distance.

 

They stomped their way through the brush and emerged into a field. My dad said that as he stepped from the trees into the field he immediately felt uncomfortable. There was something about the field that he did not like at all.

My mom, it turned out felt even worse. She was so uncomfortable that she began to rub her shoulders. That was her tell, my dad told me, for when she was nervous.

She wanted to go back into the forest. My dad did too. But by that time the sun was almost down and there was a good chance that had they kept going through the woods they would get way more turned around then they already were.

In the end they both agreed that it made the most sense to just bed down for the night and get a fresh start in the morning.

That said, the feeling on uneasiness around the field just persisted even after they set up their tent on the edge of the field and built a fire.

 

Unlike the first night where my dad and mom and spent hours talking and joking around the campfire, they were both strangely quiet. It was something that my dad said they both felt but couldn’t quite explain. They ate in silence and as the night went on, there was this feeling that something dreadful was waiting to happen.

 

My dad says he has no idea why they both felt so uneasy as nothing up to that point had really happened. The clearing was small and pretty normal looking. The only thing obviously out of place was the quiet and the stillness. No breeze, no animal sounds and no movement in the air.

And then they put out the fire. My dad had just finished pouring some water on it when they heard it. It was a woman singing.

The voice was soft at first but within a couple minutes it had grown much louder.

 

The song, my dad said was unlike anything he has ever heard before or sense. He said it echoed all around them rising and falling. The strangest part was, he said, was that just like the field the song was not eerie or creepy. It was incredibly beautiful. So much so that to this day he has not heard a song that really equaled it.

My parents sat in the dark listening to the woman singing for a while. They tried to guess where it was coming from but it sounded as if it was all around them.

 

My dad was so entranced he started to move into the field but my mom grabbed him and told him to come into the tent and just wait it out. He said that her touched snapped him out of whatever trance the music had put him in.

 

I asked why they didn’t just pull out their flashlights and look for the mysterious singer but my dad said the song literally had affected to them so much that they just couldn’t think clearly at all.

 

They laid down in the tent together for some time, listening to the singing until eventually both he and mom finally passed out from exhaustion.

 

My dad woke up a few hours later. He doesn’t remember having a nightmare but he said that when he sat up in the tent, his shirt was soaked with sweat. He was breathing hard and my mom was up too. The first thing they noticed was that the singing had stopped. Second, the song had been replaced by the sound of something making their way through the woods behind them. They listened in silence as whatever was coming got louder the closer it came to them.

 

Within about the minute the heavy footsteps and cracking of branches was joined by a very faint yellow light that started to get brighter.

As soon as the light appeared my dad, who was frozen before by the song, grabbed his large survival knife and decided he was going to investigate whatever it was that was coming.

 

He told my mom to stay put, unzipped the tent and peaked his head outside. He saw him almost immediately. A few feet away standing between two trees was a thin middle-aged man holding a lantern. My father called out to him and asked him who he was, but the man didn’t say anything and just kept coming at an extremely slow pace.

 

My dad climbed out with his flashlight in one hand and his knife in the other. He shouted at the man that he had a weapon and he better stay back and explain himself. But again he just continued. That was when my dad noticed something about the man’s face. He said, this man’s eyes were extremely wide. It was like he was looking straight into something terrifying and couldn’t keep his eyes off it. Not only that but, he wasn’t blinking at all and his mouth was hung open. It was like his facial expression was frozen but he kept walking; holding the lantern in front of him.

 

Seeing the man’s expression completely through my dad off and he said he just watched him in silence. He reached the left side of my mom and dad’s tent and without speaking, blinking, or closing his mouth. The frozen man walked straight passed my dad without looking at him and continued into the field. My dad looked into the grass to see if there was anything there but as far as he could tell, there wasn’t.

 

He watched the man enter the grass and kept a close eye on him until he entered the center of the field and for whatever reason blew out his lantern. My dad turned on his flashlight and scanned the field trying to locate him but the man was gone. He had vanished.

Completely freaked out, my dad stood guard the tent for the rest of the night occasionally shining his flashlight around to check for the man. When dawn came, he told my mom to pack up the tent so they could hike their way back to the main trail and get the hell out of the park. While she scrambled to put everything away he decided to walk into the field and see what he could find.

 

The grass was thick and so he had to wade through it before he reached the center. He didn’t find anything strange at first but then he felt something hard beneath his feet. He pulled several clumps of grass out and found an old plank of wood with scorch marks around it’s edges. At that point he looked closer at the ground and realized there were a ton of burned pieces of wood hidden beneath the grass. He also found roofing tiles and a few odd pieces of destroyed furniture. And then, he found it.

 

Almost exactly where he thought he had seen the man disappear my dad found a pair of chained cellar doors that in his words looked as if they were covered in scratch marks. Like a cat had been clawing at the outside. The doors led straight into the ground and in a tiny of the field that for some inexplicable reason had only short grass around it.

 

My dad’s concluded that the cellar had been just outside of the house that had apparently burned down in the center of this field.

 

The lock that kept the chains together was massive and was still intact despite being very rusted.

 

As he studied the doors from a safe distance my mom came to join him and asked what he was looking at. When she saw the doors my mom clutched my dad’s arm. They stood staring for a few moments before they heard a light series of knocks coming from behind the doors.

 

My mom and dad were frozen in place until there was another series of knocks followed by a woman’s menacing laugh.

 

Well, that was it, they immediately bolted back to their stuff and high tailed it out of there. My dad said they practically sprinted the whole way back to the main trail. They constantly looked behind them to make sure they weren’t being followed.

 

In time they found their way to a ranger’s station and reported the strange incident. The rangers they spoke too seemed to believe them and said they would investigate the area but as far as my dad knew they never found anything.

 

For years after my dad said that my mom had recurring dreams about the field and the chained door. He said sometimes, especially in the first few months after they got back to school, these dreams would keep her up all night. She told him that the dreams were pretty much all the same. She would follow the man with the lantern into the field where he would lead her to the open cellar doors and usher her down them. She would stand at the entrance look down and see the outline of a thin woman with raggedy hair just staring at her.

 

My dad never had those dreams but he said that trip also kept him up sometimes and he wonders to this day just what exactly was behind those doors in the woods.