My wife's parents house. It's a pretty unassuming place and I'm not going to embellish this shit, because I like to think I'm a pretty practical person, but here goes.

So my wife and I lived there for one month after getting married whilst our place was getting in order (waiting for the other family to move out, replace carpets, paint walls, that jazz). In her parent's house the guest bedroom upstairs always had this 'feel' to it. Like weird and uncanny. Her son, my step-son (three at the time), could never sleep through the night in that room. So a lot of times the little squirt and I would change places. I'd sleep alone in the guest room, he'd share a bed with my wife.

Well the ceiling in that room tapered down at an angle due to the frame of the house. The 'attic' space was actually just a crawl space on the second floor accessed by a door in the guest room. On the opposite wall of that miniature door was a large closet with folding doors and inside was another miniature door to the other crawl space.

I always told my wife (and myself) that it was the air pressure in that room. Air from the outside leaking into the crawl space and into the guest room. Occasionally the closet doors would rattle and the door would shut itself. This would happen when the AC kicked on. I wasn't worried I wasn't scared. It's obviously the air that moved these doors. Still though... Something about that room felt off... The ceiling, the miniature doors, the moving closet doors. I never slept through the night in that room.

But like I said, I'm a practical person. So when my step-sons Elmo's would sound off in the middle of the night, I'd shrug it off as stupid fucking possessed Elmo's.

It was the air pressure, had to me. Curiosity once got the better of me and I put my fingers close to the miniature doors. I felt a slight breeze, so I was right.

But still... I find it hard to go into that room when I'm at that house alone. It's just... Off