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Laughing Old Hag



This horrifying incident took place around July 15, 2002, when my wife and I were still newlyweds. We had just bought a townhouse in a small suburb in western Massachusettes. The house we bought, as far as I know, only had two families that lived in it before we, and was built in the early 1940s.

I never had trouble sleeping before we moved into this house. The very first night we slept there, I felt as if something was holding me down and two extremely large hands were grasping at my throat and wouldn't allow me to breathe. My eyes flew open to see a dark mass above me, and I tried to scream for my wife, but no sound came out. Even though I couldn't see the thing's face, I had this terrible feeling that it was smiling at me.

I don't know if I lost consciousness or I just fell asleep because the next thing I knew, it was morning. Later that day, I checked my throat in the mirror and there were no marks where the thing's hands had been, although I felt there should've been.

This horrible incident began happening every night from then on. I soon admitted it to my wife and asked if she felt anything strange at night. She replied she did not. She assumed they were just vivid nightmares, even though I tried to convince her that I was wide awake while it was happening.

But one evening changed her mind: We had been living in the house for about four months now and we had just returned from a dinner party at a relative's. As we descended the stairs to the bedroom, I got a horrible, sickening feeling in my stomach. Suddenly, I turned at the landing and rushed to the bathroom, releasing every last content of my stomach in the toilet.

My wife had proceeded to our bedroom, upon which I heard a blood-curdling scream. Not thinking twice about it, I jumped up and ran to the bedroom where my wife was standing, rooted to the spot, her eyes as big as saucers, just staring at the bed. I looked to where she was looking and saw nothing aside from a small impression on the edge of the bed, as if someone had been sitting there.

My wife looked directly at me and began insisting she was going to her mother's for the night. She began to hysterical cry and shake, and as I tried to calm her, I convinced her to at least just get a hotel room for the night. She agreed and ran out to wait in the car without saying another word.

I gathered a few clothes and followed her out. Once we got settled in the hotel room, I insisted she tell me what happened. Eyes wide, and lips quivering, she began to relay how when I ran to the bathroom, she stepped in the room, turned on the light, and saw what looked like a very old woman sitting at the edge of the bed.

The woman's hair was gray and sticking out in every direction, her skin was very gray and pale. She wore a long black robe and had her legs crossed with her long spindly hands clasped at the knee. But it was the old woman's face that really chilled her. Her eyes were bulging, almost too big for her head. She had no discernable nose and her lips were dried and wrinkled and were curled up in the scariest smile she had ever seen.

Then the old woman tilted her head back as if to laugh, and that's when my wife screamed. Right when she did so, the woman vanished. When I raced in, she was already gone, but I did notice the impression on the bed.

Two weeks later, we moved, and as far as I know, the house is still there. Whether anyone lives there, I do not know.

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