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The Shadow (1)

May 2006

In late August of 2002 I moved into a two floor apartment in a small town about 30 minutes south of Greensboro, NC where I was attending college.
My ex-girlfriend had traveled with me to help me move in the weekend before classes began and had intended to stay for the following week to visit.

The day I moved into my apartment proceeded like any other aside from the fact that standing at the top of the stairs in front of the master bedroom produced a feeling of unease and a desire to move away from that particular area of the apartment.
At the time I had not given the matter much thought, saying nothing to my girlfriend as I assumed my misgivings were nothing more than the general feelings of apprehension one gets when starting life in a new town, new job, etc. However, as the days progressed my discomfort at staying in the apartment grew until I refused to sleep in the upstairs portion of the apartment.
When I asked my girlfriend to help me drag my mattress down to the living room I discovered that she too had also grown extremely uncomfortable with the same section of the dwelling and had experienced cold spots in front of the stairway and bathroom.

By Thursday of that first week I returned home from classes to find her standing outside the apartment door, white as a sheet. It was not until I approached her that I noticed she was clutching my .45 caliber handgun in a death grip. I, of course, was quite troubled by this and asked her what was wrong?. She explained to me that about 30 minutes before I arrived she had been in the process of preparing dinner for us in the kitchen when she heard extremely loud footsteps stomping up the stairs followed by the sound of a door being violently slammed shut and, fearing for her safety, grabbed the pistol and ran outside.
I was skeptical at first but it quickly became obvious to me that she was clearly frightened and certainly believed what she was telling me as she steadfastly refused to reenter the dwelling until either I or the police had cleared it of possessing any potential danger.

After obtaining my pistol from her I proceeded to walk through the apartment room by room. When I reached the top floor I must admit that my anxiety was growing and the sweat from my palms was beginning to coat the checkering on the grips of the gun.

However, upon reaching the bedrooms I could find nothing amiss save for the fact that both bedroom doors and the bathroom door were securely closed. When I returned to my girlfriend I inquired if she had, at any time during the day, closed the doors or ventured upstairs at all. She said she had not and, upon hearing what I had found, insisted that we stay in hotel for the night.

After the end of classes the next day the two of us returned to our homes in Charleston, WV. During the drive back we discussed what had happened and she told me in no uncertain terms that she would never venture one foot inside the apartment ever again.

When I returned the following week I was then alone in the apartment and it was not until that Wednesday afternoon that I began to notice very odd occurrences when I would return from school.

At first it would be puzzling but almost inconsequential things such as lights being on that I was positive I turned off when I left that morning or objects mysteriously being moved across the room.

On Thursday night of that week I experienced something that caused me to make my own vow never to return to that apartment.

At 3:15 am I awoke suddenly to an unexplainable and utterly paralyzing feeling of horror and dread that steals the warmth of my blood even now. When I rolled over and looked across the living room I saw the figure of what I took to be a human standing in front of the window by the door. My first thought was that someone had illegally entered my apartment and was intent on robbery or foul play. I slowly rolled over and got my hand around my .45 which I kept by the mattress I had dragged downstairs, fully intending to shoot whomever it happened to be. No sooner had I swung the barrel of the gun into line with the intruder than the room got very, very cold. So cold, in fact, that I could see my breath in the moonlight streaming through the curtains. I am not precisely sure how long I stayed frozen in that position but the next thing I recall is the apparition vanishing before my eyes. I immediately turned on all the lights in the apartment and searched thoroughly for any sign of forced entry. To my utter bewilderment, there was none. After getting dressed I took my pistol and drove the 30 minutes to Greensboro where I stayed at a Motel.
The next morning I drove back to the apartment long enough to pack an overnight bag for the drive home. Once home I called the school's Admissions Office and cancelled my enrollment, claiming I would re-enroll at a later date. That very same weekend I rented a truck, brought two friends to help me, and was out of the apartment before the sun set on Sunday.

I never found out what was with me in my living room that night. I am not sure I want to know. Whatever it was, it was definitely not human and definitely not friendly. I have not been back to that college or that town since that summer 4 years ago and I will not go back ever again. For whatever exists in those rooms is pure, unadulterated evil. God help the next unfortunate soul to cross paths with it.

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