Hi. I am a real estate agent in San Diego. A couple years ago I was working with a buyer who was interested in a home in the North Park area of the city. Built in 1927, this house was very unassuming from the street. It almost looked "quaint." It was much larger than it appeared, as it was built into the side of the canyon.
One of the first things I noticed was that it was unusually difficult to slide my electronic keycard into the brand new lockbox that was housing the key. I really had to jam my card into it. Had these been old lockboxes, I could understand, but they were all recently switched out as the realtor's association switched vendors. Secondly, there were two metal, perhaps pewter, gargoyles fastened onto the front door. A statue of an angel sat to the side of the door. Nothing too unusual... yet.
As I showed my client around the house, we went downstairs to where the bedrooms were located. After walking room to room, we found ourselves in the master bathroom. We were only in there for a couple of minutes when we heard very loud foosteps DIRECTLY ABOVE US. This would have been the person in the kitchen. My client was a bit freaked out, though I assured him that someone probably saw my car in the driveway... sign in the yard.. and decided to have a look for him/herself. I immediately walked upstairs but there was no one there. I walked outside and the street was completely void of people and cars. As I walked back inside, I did notice that the house was chillingly cold. I'm from back east and it was that same cold that we felt in the fall when the temperature dropped and there was a lot of dampness.
My client was quite uncomfortable, moreso than me, and we left the house. He actually liked the house but was a bit spooked. I, on the other hand, was convinced that someone simply walked in and out of the house. Fortunately, my client wanted to see the house again; this time with his two aunts.
The following weekend found us back at the house. It was very cold in there again... unusually cold for a house in San Diego. I eventually found myself downstairs with one aunt, while my client was upstairs with another aunt. Suddenly, I hear the doorbell ring. Assuming that my client was just testing it, I continued looking around when it rang again. As we walked back upstairs, I notice that the front door is ajar as we had left it, and the second aunt was standing at my car. She refused to come back into the house.
It turns out that both the second aunt and my client were standing just feet inside the front door when the doorbell rang. The second time it rang was my client testing it to see if that's what he actually heard. Both client and his aunts decided they didn't like the house. They wanted to leave immediately.
Being that my curiosity was now peaked, I called a friend who lived in the neighborhood. I asked him if he believed in the supernatural and he said firmly "no." He met up with me and we were entering the house yet again as the sun was starting to go down.
Nothing happened for the first 10 minutes or so. We walked down the steps that ran the length of the house on the outiside and led into the canyon/yard. It wasn't until we turned around and were half way up that we noticed the terrible smell. It smelled like feces, but there were no dogs around and the hill was quite steep for a dog to get its footing and defecate. We were standing next to the house's unusual crawlspace. As quickly as the smell came, it was replaced by yet another bad smell. This one was worse. It was rotting flesh/meat. My friend is a bit freaked out at this point, as am I. Then suddenly, the smell was gone. At the point, we walked back inside.
As we sat upstairs in the living room, it seemed more and more apparent that nothing was going to happen. Now it was mid sunset and I wanted to leave before it became dark. As we turned out lights and approached the front entry way, it happened. A loud THUD.... then the same footsteps from my first visit, only this time, they were coming from DOWNSTAIRS. I was pretty much frozen at that point. My friend agreed that the sound was unmistakably footsteps. We both left immediately. It was frightening.
Thinking that my ordeal was over was a mistake. That evening I woke up in the middle of the night to my doorbell ringing. I knew it wasn't a dream because it was that same feeling when your phone rings in the middle of the night. I was started and my heart was pounding. I got out of bed and walked down the hallway. My bedroom was on the first floor while I had two roommates in the bedrooms upstairs. I look up towards their rooms, expecting them to come down, but no movement. They apparently didn't hear it. I look out of the peep hole but there is nobody there.
With goosebumps covering my body, I crawl back into bed. As I pull the covers over me, I glance at my digital clock on my nightstand. It was just a few minutes past 3AM. Even I knew enough about the supernatural to know that it considered to be the peak time for paranormal activity.
Any ideas? Was the spirit toying with me? Is it still with me? The house eventually sold. The seller told me they were selling because "it isn't a good house for children." He never elaborated. I didn't ask.