I got out of the Marine Corps in 2014. Long story short the apartment I had been paying for that my girlfriend was in ended up being occupied by her and Jody. So I got screwed for a place to stay. Ended up moving into my Grandparents home (was in my early 20's) until I got back on my feet.

They had a spare bedroom in the back of the house they had added onto the original house to take care of their parents; who both had strokes. Both of which died in that room.

I was a big manly man. Marines, 250lbs, and really drank the koolaid from the corps. However one night they said they were headed to Chicago. I live in Indiana, so this was far away from town. They take the bus, so there was no 'oops, I forgot something, let's turn around'.

I'm in the room just sitting in my computer when I hear footsteps throughout the house. It's one of those old houses with wooden floors that you can hear someone walking. I immediately just grab my gun, wait, and then hear the footsteps walk down the hall to the new edition (it was a corridor that was added to the original exterior of the home, very long hallway) to outside my bedroom door.

My grandfather served in Vietnam. And I know he checked on me during the night to see if I was sleeping alright.

Remember how they were in Chicago?

Opened the door when I heard the footsteps walk back. Cleared the house. All doors were locked. Except the inner door to the back door was wide open. The storm door was locked. The back door was shut and locked earlier. Because I locked it as my nightly ritual.

I shut it. Then went back to my room. About a half hour later I hear the same sound upstairs and I open the door; the inner door was open again. Screen door locked.

No one was in that house but me.

To this day I have no idea what that was, and to this day it creeps me the hell out. I moved the next day and got a job as a bouncer.