For lack of a better name I’ll refer to what I experienced as a werewolf. Because I didn’t see it, I can’t say with certainty that its appearance lines up with the standard depiction associated with the creature from mythology and pop culture. I only know that at the moment in my life that I experienced true fear my mind identified the being causing it as a werewolf.
Last night I was sleeping in my childhood home. I moved back a few years ago due to financial hardships. Those years were uneventful, until last night.
I went to bed that night with the lights on, not out of a fear of the dark or creatures, but due to laziness. I awoke to the very real sensation of being forcefully held down, something I’ve not experienced for close to fifteen years. Twice before this, back in my teenage years, I’ve experienced a feeling identical, but this time there was more than just the feeling. To better explain what has happened I’ll need to first go back and explain these two earlier encounters.
When I was roughly fifteen I woke to a strong sense that a werewolf was on my back holding me down. My eye’s were still closed but I wasn’t dreaming. I was fully conscious through it all. I was paralyzed with fear as well as the weight I felt crushing me into my bed. It felt as real as the texture of my sheets.
I don’t know how I was certain that the creature was a werewolf as it made no sound and my eyes never opened. About a minute of this went on with me completely immobile. Finally I worked up the courage to open my eyes and the sensation and weight both vanished as if they never existed. I told no one about what happened and things returned normal, for a time.
About a year after the first experience I found a book in a barn shaped diner. The book was tacky and was about sensational sightings in Michigan, my home state. Amongst the staples like Bigfoot and aliens there was an article about an imp in Detroit called the Nain Rouge. It would bring bad fortune if it visited and, here’s the relevant part, it would sit on the back of sleeping people who would then wake to feeling its weight on them. The book went on to describe it as people experiencing sleep paralysis. Looking into this phenomenon I saw it matched my experience exactly. Now I was confident I knew what had happened to me and I slept easier knowing I was safe.
Another year passed and I had my second bout with “sleep paralysis”. While I laid there under that too familiar weight I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. I knew what I was experiencing wasn’t real and I only needed to open my eyes to end it, but still I laid there with my eyes tightly sealed. I irrationally was convinced that if I opened my eyes I’d learn that it was real all along, so closed they remained. Eventually the sensation started to recede and I opened my eyes. Nothing was there.
Back when these first two encounters happened I lived in the basement, and both times it happened down there. Now fifteen years later I am back in this house. I now sleep in a spare bedroom on the second story and in all those years I’ve not stepped foot into the basement, until today. I will now explain what I experienced last night that has me so frightened.
Sleeping in my second floor bedroom with the lights on I felt that same sensation felt so many years ago. I had really put it out of my head completely, so it came as a shock when I felt that long forgotten weight on my back. The shock was such that the fear didn’t settle in and my eyes shot open. There was no delay, no contemplation, just immediate alertness. I felt the weight pull away and I turned my head just in time to glimpse a shadowy form rush down the stairs outside my open door. There was no sound and, without my glasses on, the form was indistinct, but it was physical and moved like a creature controlled by mass and physics. It crashes along the landing wall as it made its getaway, but without sound or damaging the wall.
The fear that was absent before rushed in on me, cold. It took me many minutes to venture out and investigate. When I finally worked up the courage I started down the stairs.
As I walked through the main level of the house nothing seemed disturbed. Through my mom’s slightly ajar door I could see her sleeping sounding. I walked through the living room and into the dining room. There I saw the basement door was open. That door is never open and until two weeks earlier hadn’t been opened in years. It was opened to replace a broken furnace, but beyond that one time I don’t believe the basement had been entered since I moved out of it over a decade earlier. I thought it was only inhabited by spiders, with their cobwebs draped over every surface.
I shut the door, too afraid to investigate further that night. I went back to my room, but was unable to sleep. This morning I ventured into the basement.
Down the old wooden steps and beyond the furnace was a wall. In that wall was a hole. I could see dirt piled like someone had dug their way through. Asking my mom and family friend, who was the one who replaced the furnace, both assured me the hole was there already. My mother insists it was always there, but I can not for the life of me ever remember it being there, and I lived in that basement for nearly a decade.
Stranger still a memory has come back of a recurring dream from my childhood. I can now remember I often had an identical dream of a hole in my basement. I would venture through it into a claustrophobic tunnel and come to a room of treasures. I had the same dream countless times as a kid, but even as a child I dismissed it as nothing more than a wish fulfillment fantasy to have an adventure like the kids in my favorite movie, Goonies.
Now I wonder if it may of been a way for the creature to lure me into the hole. Or are both the hole and the werewolf manifestations of my mind turned real?
Tomorrow I plan to enter the hole.