The Proctor House: Forestville, Virginia.

In 1990, my family and I moved into an old house in Forestville, Virginia. My Dad bought the house at a really cheap price because the previous owner had died a violent death there. The man's name was Alan Proctor and he had been in a shootout with the police when he died. (People say that half of his head was blown off). Anyway, we moved in about 5 years after Proctor's death and blood still covered the walls, ceiling and floor. Since I was only 13 at the time it really freaked me out.

Well, a lot of things have happened in that house. I have personally heard footsteps, dishes breaking and someone taking a bath. My Dad and I both witnessed the chimney in the dining room bleeding. To this day we still cannot get the stains to come out. However, I am going to tell you about the most frightening experience I ever had.

I was 16 or 17 and I woke up one morning feeling some sort of pressure on my leg. I thought it was our cat because it felt like something was walking up my leg. So I began to sit up to pet the cat. Suddenly, I felt two hands grab my arms extremely hard, and I was forced back down onto the bed. There was a really heavy weight on my chest and I felt like I couldn't breathe. The whole time those hands just kept grinding into my arms. Needless to say I was scared shitless. I tried to scream but nothing but a whisper escaped my lips. I tried to kick and struggle but I couldn't move. This all lasted about 30-40 seconds. Suddenly, it was over and I passed out. It only happened once thank God, but the same thing has happened to my sister, my stepmother and any other female that has ever stayed in the house overnight.

My family and I spoke with several preachers about the different happenings. Everytime we were told it was a demon. My stepmother's mom came to stay with us and we never told her about the occurences. (I should also say that my stepmother's family has some sort of psychic ability). Well, she walked into the house and then promptly walked back outside. She looked at us and asked us why we never told her that a demon was in the house. She decided to stay somewhere else after the first sleepless night.

If there really is a demon in the house, I don't know. My parents tell me that it isn't active anymore. However, everytime I go home on vacation the demon or whatever it is always pays a little visit.

By Betty Hurst

Jayz note: Thanks for the story Betty

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