This chilling incident took place near Mountain Home, Arkansas at my parents' residence in January, 2012. My parents decided to go to my sister's house in another state for Christmas and asked my husband to stay at the house and watch over things while they were gone. They would be gone for about two weeks. I went to visit him on one occasion, and stayed overnight at the house with him another time; the series of events that unfolded were terrifying beyond imagination.
During my first visit, my husband told me this: He had been sleeping on a blow-up mattress in the dining room, which led to the living room and kitchen. The dining room has one door, which was situated opposite of where he was sleeping.
He awoke in the wee hours of the morning, terrified. There was a hooded being standing in the doorway, which he said was the blackest black he had ever seen. It was wearing a hood and a long cape. He could see no face and it was over six feet tall. It was simply staring at him.
When he tried to call upon God to rebuke this being, it suddenly sped over to his side and cut his voice off. He said he kept calling out and praying, and the thing finally shrank up and disappeared. He finally got his voice back.
My husband then noticed a ring of bright light shining on the wall, with no center. He went over and placed his hand on the ring, and his hand did not cast a shadow. He was so shaken, he went into the kitchen and made some coffee. When he went back, the ring was gone. From then on, he slept on the couch.
When I visited the first time, he told me the story. On my next visit, I stayed all night, because I was to bring him home the next morning. We slept on the bed in the spare bedroom. Right after we got settled down, the door handle to the room rattled violently, frightening both of us badly.
There was an old Henry Repeating Rifle standing in the corner by my husband's side. When we finally slept, I dreamed that there was a black figure looking in the window. The window was up, and there was just a screen there. I was calling for my husband, but he wouldn't wake up. I was yelling for him to get the gun. When he didn't move, I went over the screen, and for some reason, I sucker-punched the figure. It ran off, yipping like a wounded dog. I then grabbed the rife and ran down the hallway with it. I woke up in a cold sweat.
The next morning we loaded the car and got the heck out of there, but the thing wasn't done with us. When we left, I told my husband it was in the car with us, and I felt it was trying to kill us.
On the way home, we have to navigate several areas of downhill and uphill switchbacks, as the area is mountainous and very dangerous. I was driving. As we reached the top of the first switchback, my car, which has always been in perfect condition, just... quit. No brakes, no power steering. I managed, somehow, to wrestle the car to the bottom without going over the cliffs on on one side, or hitting the rocky outcrops on the other. I spotted a pulloff, and skidded to a halt while standing on my brakes.
Immediately, a woman, who was driving a van, stopped and helped us. She said I had blinked my lights at her. The car wouldn't start. It was totally dead. I had the car towed to a mechanic who has a garage near where we live. He called the next day, and said, "I checked everything about your car, and I can't find a thing wrong." It's been driving fine since the Incident.
