I felt an oppressive atmosphere

It was around 2010 when an old friend reached out to me, asking if I could look after his house and his two dogs while he was undergoing medical treatment at the hospital for about a month. I agreed without hesitation. Upon entering his house for the first time, I felt an oppressive atmosphere, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My friend gave me a tour of the place, but I avoided the basement and his bedroom; both areas gave me an awful feeling.

After he left, I got to work on a list of chores I wanted to help him with around the house. Later, I settled into the spare room he had set up for me. One day, as I was arranging my belongings in the spare room, the two dogs suddenly dashed in and hid under the bed. I knew they could be excitable, but this was pure fear. I glanced towards the living room, where they had come from, and saw, walking across the floor in the sunlight streaming through the window, a pair of man’s legs. Just the legs. They were clad in old, worn-out jeans and dusty work boots. The legs moved slowly towards the front door. I stayed in the room, frozen with unease. Although I’m usually not scared of spirits, this one had a deeply unsettling presence. I realized this might have been what I sensed from the beginning.

When my friend returned from the hospital, we sat down to discuss what had happened. This led us to talk about the basement and his bedroom. He admitted that he was also reluctant to go into the basement. As for his bedroom, he told me that when he moved in, the walls were covered in strange symbols and writings, which he had painted over. I wished he had taken photos of those eerie markings.