New House Nightmare: A Halloween Ghost Story
Ryan Jacobson is not what you’d call a ghost hunter, but he does enjoy a good ghost story. A few years back, when Adventure Publications decided to expand the Ghostly Tales series, he jumped at the chance to contribute. Ryan penned two Halloween ghost story books, Ghostly Tales of Michigan and Ghostly Tales of Wisconsin. He had so much fun that he also wrote a collection of stories for his home state of Minnesota.
The following is one of his favorite Halloween ghost stories from Minnesota Hauntings. The woman in this account is someone Ryan knows—the sister of a close friend. It’s up to you whether or not you choose to believe, but Ryan can attest with certainty that she believes this happened.
New House Nightmare
The home was beautiful, the location even better. Newly constructed and safely tucked within a private, secluded cul de sac, it was everything Mike and Ashley Howe wanted their place to be. They eagerly purchased it and moved into the Lakeville home, south of the Twin Cities, in August of 2005. Neither thought twice about the adjacent cemetery—at least, not until it was too late.
The Howes’ first day as homeowners was long, tedious, and hot. They spent the morning with pens in hand, tackling an almost endless stack of papers and official documents.
The couple then labored, throughout the afternoon and well into the evening, carrying furniture and countless boxes into their new house.
By eight o’clock, the arduous task of unpacking had begun; by midnight, the exhausted couple was in bed.
Both believed that sleep would come easily, and both slowly drifted out of consciousness, their eyes closed, memories of the day fading, fading, fading.
A loud noise rang from the basement. The thunderous clang rattled the bedroom windows. The couple’s dogs barked ferociously. Ashley and Mike bolted upright in bed.
“What was that?” Ahsley exclaimed.
Mike stared at her, wide-eyed. “It sounded like something tipped over below us. Only louder.”
He jumped out of bed, and he rummaged around the room, searching for anything that might pass as a weapon. He decided upon a small wooden lamp, clutching it tightly like a club.
Mike snuck out of the bedroom and cautiously crept downstairs. He searched the entire basement, room after room. He found exactly what he expected: nothing. The Howes hadn’t yet moved anything into the lower level; the basement was completely empty.
That first bizarre occurrence might possibly have been rationalized, explained away, or even forgotten, except it was only the beginning. The dogs began acting up—running around the house and barking wildly—at all hours and for no apparent reason. The bedroom lights inexplicably flickered on and off. And in two separate instances, Ashley heard an eerie, distant voice calling her name when she was alone.
On a particularly sleepy Saturday morning, Ashley was awakened when her husband’s alarm clock buzzed to life. While Mike rose out of bed and groggily staggered into the bathroom, Ashley thanked her luck that she wasn’t the one scheduled to work.
She rolled onto her side, facing the wall, with every intention of returning to sleep. Much to her surprise, Mike rejoined her. She felt him snuggle up beside her and wrap his arm around her waist. Ashley loved when he did that; Mike’s thick, rugged arms were like armor against the dangers of
“I thought you had to work,” she whispered. She touched his forearm and stroked it gently. It was thin and smooth…
…and not at all like Mike’s!
Ashley’s eyes flew open. She leapt out of bed. She turned to face the stranger, not daring to imagine whom she might see. To her horror and relief, she found no one else there.
Unfortunately for the Howes, a housing market crash left them trapped in a home they believed to be haunted. But the spirit did no worse. For the most part, it seemed content to flicker a few lights and to make strange noises. Hopefully, it will always stay that way.
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