I used to live in a coach house in Chicago that was built in the late 1800’s. In this house things would go missing all the time and then just randomly show up in the middle of a room. Sometimes our dog would sit and stare at spots in the wall for hours. Easy to write off as a weird dog or just miss placing things, but one day while doing laundry in the basement we heard footsteps, very loud footsteps run across the floor above us. We both ran upstairs thinking someone had broken into the house. We got upstairs and it was empty nobody was in the house, and the doors and windows were still locked. No signs of anyone having been inside.

Nobody slept easily that night. Later we moved from the house, but kept the house as a rental. For every tenant we’d always ask after a few months how things were going, and all of our tenants would always have stories like ours that were unprompted by us.

A few years later we had to repair a pipe in the basement, during the repair we had the crew pour some concrete over a small patch on the floor that was still just dirt. Since that patch of dirt was covered it’s been all quiet at that house.