The One Outside
Jason, Colorado, USA
October 1997
Keep in mind that most of the "haunted house" stories you hear about happen in old and spooky houses in the middle of the country, this however happened (and is still happening) in the middle of a brand new subdivision in a very prominent neighbourhood on the front range of Colorado.
For several months I heard my friends talk about a ghost in their new home. This home, in fact, was only 3 months old when I began hearing tales of this roaming phantom that was 'watching' the family. After they had been living there for nearly a year I decided to spend the night with them seeing as how I lived several miles away and it was beginning to get dark when the conversation had ended. So I took my linens and a pillow and went downstairs into the basement. The basement was not finished but it did have carpet and a good bed that had a respectable amount of privacy, it also had a window well in it.
Around two hours after I had resigned to my room I was awoken by the sound of distant music. Music that sounded like it was being played from a small radio on the other side of the house. Since this was a rather large house I thought it was a possibility that someone was up and listening to music. Seeing as how I was then awake I figured I might as well see who else was up. I put on my clothes and headed up stairs, and as I hit the top of the stairs that lead up to the main floor, the music just stopped. The muffled sound of rhythm through the walls had suddenly ceased and the house was quiet. That was when things got a bit strange. Having heard the stories of the house's unworldly inhabitant, I naturally began to feel strange, but none the less, curious. I stepped out of the stairwell leading into the living room of the first floor and began to head across the carpet and into the kitchen. While crossing the room I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, turning to the window I had expected the image to vanish, but it didn't. The shaded hollow face of an elderly man in a brown leather jacket and button front cap was walking past the window not more than four feet away, he never even looked my way, and right before my eyes I watched him walk from the outside of the window to the inside of the house. As I shook my head I watched him descend down through a solid wood floor as if it were a staircase. Being a new found man of superstition I decided to leave the house entirely but as I made my sprint for the front door I was hit by freezing cold air that blew right through me like a hole had been opened in my gut. I froze. After several minutes I finally regained my nerve and looked around for the door again, but before I could find it I was horrified to see a billowing puff of white-brown smoke rising from the floor in front of me. I could then smell the distinct smell of a cigar. Knowing how opposed to smoking the 'owners' of this house were, I was even more upset. Then the music began once more, faint and rhythmic, like a big band song, or singing without lyrics only sound. Shortly after the music began one of the family members upstairs turned on a light and I watched as she came from her room and stood at the top of the stairs, she looked down at me in the way that most people do when they just wake and said "why are you playing music this early in the morning?" At this I just shrugged my shoulders and looked at the basement doorway. Soon the other two members of the family had awoken, they all heard it but within 10 minutes it stopped, still to this day they sometimes hear music and often smell smoke.