Today’s report came in to BBR from Gold Hill North Carolina and it is a childhood memory about a strange creature with red eyes who would be seen in the child’s bedroom at night. Gold hill is also an area where there are many haunting’s and paranormal happenings deep within the mines that are to be found all over the area, and also in the historical buildings some of which are the same today as they were back in the day.
US Witness Report “I’ve had a lot of weird things happen in my life. Most of them I don’t remember at all. They are totally blanked out. My middle sister can’t understand why I don’t remember these events as I’m the one who fought off a lot of what happened to protect her. She, the poor thing, has never been able to forget a single detail. This particular event I want to share with you happened 35 years ago, just after I’d turned 14. It did not involve my sister, for once. I talked to her about it probably 10 years ago. She had no idea of anything odd that happened at that house.
My Father was a preacher and we moved every other year. Sometimes more frequently. We had just moved from a homeless situation into a new home. Its still there now but the buildings at that location have changed a lot. The configuration isn’t really that important: just that our home was closer to the graveyard than the other buildings. There were woods beside and behind the house which were much closer to the buildings.
When we first moved in there were some neighbours in a little mobile home on the property just to the south of the house. Their site was really run down, lots of old appliances and crap surrounding it. It was situated inside the trees in a small clearing that was visible from my southern window. My room was on the southwest corner of the house with large, double windows looking south and another set looking west, overlooking the southern end of the graveyard. The graveyard and western windows never bothered me, except when there were critters foraging around in the trash cans under my window. That was merely annoying. The southern windows, though, were very different! In that mobile home lived a man and woman who, it seems to me now, were probably on drugs. They had a couple of large, terrifyingly vicious dogs on seriously heavy chains. They’d never gotten loose as far as I know, but they terrified me. I was sure one particular dog was going to come crashing through my window in the night. I was convinced. It was a deep feeling of knowing it was inevitable. It never happened, of course. I have no idea what breeds they were. They were just huge and they were mean. They were probably abused and certainly neglected.
Somehow, very soon after we moved in, my dad had the people kicked out and all their stuff cleaned off the land. It must have belonged to the church or I don’t think he could have gotten it done so quickly. One day they were there, the next, everything was gone. The speed and finality was a little frightening. We never saw those people or their dogs again. It didn’t matter. I was still very unhappy about that area and never even looked over there if I could help it. Every single evening, before sundown, I shut my big heavy drapes very snuggly. Not one gap anywhere, ever, and I did not open them again until well after daylight.
There was also a small closet on the southeast corner of the room that I was vaguely unhappy about but for no real reason. I never had childhood fears of closets, just “the witch under the bed” when I was really small. I have no idea where that came from. We didn’t have a television set for most of my growing up years. I never saw stuff like that or heard scary stories of that nature. We never went to anyone’s house because we were always the new kids and we moved away again by the time we started making connections, so there was no influence from other kids at school. And nothing like that was ever talked about at church. That “witch under the bed” fear had long since faded.
I don’t know why I mention the closet because nothing ever happened to it. It’s just part of my memories of that room. Although… Now that I think about it, when I first saw that black thing it was at the corner of the bed closest to that closet.
The parsonage was a 4-bedroom house, old, but fairly spacious.None of the rest of the house had a weird feeling to me, just my room, and even then, only at night. My double bed was placed under the western set of windows, so the southern ones were on my right. One night after we were all moved in and unpacked and those neighbours were gone, I had just settled into bed when for some reason, I opened my eyes and looked over the foot board. No reason I was aware of: I heard no sounds, I had no feeling. I just opened my eyes and looked. There, moving slowly from the right to the left and then back again, was a dark, flat shape with glowing red eyes.
It made no noise, it didn’t have a smell, it looked two-dimensional, like it was flat, but somehow I was aware it had depth and substance. My room was very dark with the lights off and I didn’t have a night light, but the darkness of this prowling thing was unlike any black I’ve ever seen before or since. The shape was like a hyena, or a very, very large raccoon: with that weird humped up back, their heads hunched below their shoulders. The glowing red eyes were like large glowing coals. They glowed, but they did not emit light. They did not illuminate anything, not even any part of the thing’s face. And they were very large for the size of the head. Weirdly, I couldn’t discern any difference between the head and the body. I just knew how it would be if I were able to see it. There were no features to the head, the face, or the body. Just the outline of the whole shape and those two eyes. It was not furry looking. It was just a smooth outlined shape of what I interpreted at the time to be a “dog thing”. It seemed canine to me, but for no reason I can pinpoint. It may have been down to my well-established childhood fear of dogs.
I don’t know how long I sat there watching it and I didn’t feel anything: no fear, no panic. One second I was looking at it, the next I was flying up and over my bed to reach the light switch on the wall in front of my bed. I’d jumped in one movement from my bed, over top of the foot board, and I hit the switch as I landed. I never, ever, ever turned that light off again. I didn’t sleep at night the whole two years we lived there. I stuffed a towel under my door so my dad wouldn’t see the light on if he came down to check on things. I sat at my desk and painted all night long, every single night we lived there after that. I’ve never been so artistically productive before or since. And once we left that place I had no trouble sleeping. Even as we lived there, even as I did my nightly routine of gathering my paints and water and stuffing the towel under the door, I never gave that dog-shadow-thing a second thought. Never thought of it again but I never trusted the dark in that room, either. It was gone from my mind, like it had never happened, but it changed everything for me while we lived there. It was years and years later when I thought of that thing again.
I would like to make this clear: I do not think it was a demon as I understand what people mean when they say that word. I don’t know what it was, but I don’t believe in those kinds of embodiment of evil from hell. As best I can figure, it was something tied to the land. Why it only affected my room I don’t know.
There is something else I just remembered whilst I was writing about the red eyed dog-thing! There had been a one-room schoolhouse (which had probably also been the original church) right behind our home and my bedroom, between my room and the graveyard. We could still see the outline of part of the foundation at/below ground level. An old man at the church told me once that when he was a kid, he had gone to school, seen that it had burned down in the night, returned home, and was whipped for telling his father a lie about the school burning down. His father found out later it was true of course, and I don’t know if they made amends, but that schoolhouse, right at the corner of my bedroom, once burned down and was never rebuilt on that land.
So now I wonder if this black thing was something attached to the land. In my own thinking: not backed up with any research I’ve done specific to this area: there’s a very good chance it had something to do with the original inhabitants of the area who were driven off by European immigrants.
In the last 15 years or so I’ve heard the word shuck. I’m still unclear exactly what is meant by that. Up until then I had never heard of anything like that black thing before. I knew the bible stories about demons of course, being a preacher’s kid, but I’d never really given them any thought. They were as realistic to me as, like, Snow White. Just a story. I didn’t grow up with images of gargoyles or creepy old paintings of hell and demons, or grotesque stained-glass windows. The churches my dad preached in were “modern” and kinda sneered at those kinds of things, so this was not part of my world or my thinking. Weirdly, at the same time, we did have background superstitions of demons and stuff, but they were just something to have a theoretical nervousness about. That’s all. So I had absolutely no idea what that black thing was. I’m sure that helped me deal with it. If I’d already had a name for it and a fear of it I’d probably have been reduced to a blubbering mess I could never have recovered from.
It never occurred to me to even mention it to my parents. They would have thought I was just trying to get attention. I couldn’t tell my sisters because I was the oldest. No way I was going to freak them out, especially when I had no answers and no way of getting any. So I just painted at night, dragged myself to school, crashed in the afternoon, and painted all night the next night. For two years. The way we left that place was humiliating, the church board kicked my dad out, but it was a relief to be gone.”
I would like to thank our witnesses for allowing us to share their experiences. Without their brave testaments these reports would be lost to obscurity. I am certain there are others out there who have witnessed very similar events.
I will leave you with the questions, Why do certain people seem to attract more than their fair share of activity. And are these events engineered in some way? Or is it the person themselves that is the lone catalyst that sets of the unexplained occurrences?