Location: Scarborough, Ontario, Canada

The following report was sent into our website by Aurora on Aug 9, 2014:

“It was Autumn 2004. I was 16. My parents, my sister (then 18), my brother (then 13) and I were visiting my grandparents for Thanksgiving in Scarborough. We lived about 2.5 hours away in Welland. The house my grandparents owned was quite large, and had five bedrooms. It was the house my Dad and his three brothers grew up in. Since my grandparents were the only ones living there at this point, they devoted these spare rooms to hobbies ie sewing, sculpting, painting etc, but each had a bed for guests. Quite often when we visited for a holiday we would stay there for a few nights.

Not long after dinner I started getting tired (also a little moody because, well, it was that time of the month, enough said). So I was the first one to retire to my quarters. I think it was around 8:30pm. The room I stayed in was downstairs at the end of a long hall, and it had a window facing part of the yard and part of the driveway. I got in to my pjs, brushed my hair, then opened the window a few inches, and climbed under the covers. I drifted off shortly after… I awoke to the sound of a boy in his early teens exclaiming “Oww!” in a plaintive tone. My first thought was that my brother was coming off second best to my sister in a wrestling match or playful fight. She was one to playfully beat on us and sometimes it was actually kind of fun provided I was in the right mood. So I relaxed and looked over at the clock which to my surprise read 2 something am. I sat up in bed. Again I heard “Oww!”, though this time I could really hear genuine pain being conveyed in the exclamation. I got out of bed confused and a little scared as to what could be hurting my brother sometime after 2 am. I grabbed a flashlight and ventured down the hall to where his room was (past a bathroom, a sitting room, and a linen closet) I got to his door, which was shut, and so I opened it, and he lay sound asleep. His covers were pulled back and his portable video game was on his bed next to his hand so I gathered he fell asleep playing it. I took his game, placed it on the night table, and pulled his covers up to his shoulders. He still lay fast asleep. I gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then left his door ajar and returned to my room, still puzzled.

No sooner had I returned to my room…” Owww!” Now I was freaking out. I heard two more before I turned my light on. I had the chills. I gathered myself, and strode down the hall a second time, this time calling my brother’s name. I whipped open his door, and turned his light on. He slowly came to after I called his name again. He looked at me with confused, bothered eyes, then blurted out “What the hell, ‘rora?!…it’s like 3 in the morning” “I know!” I shot back. “But I keep hearing this boy yelling “ow!” and I’m sorry, but Dad and Granddad don’t sound like they’re 13!” He looked at me strangely, and then said “Well I don’t know what you’re on, because I’m asleep…or I was until you came in!” I looked at him sternly and asked “You aren’t messing with me are you?” “No” he replied, “now go away so I can sleep!” I turned off his light, apologized and again left his door ajar and returned to my room. Yet again “Owww!” then seconds later “Noo!” and “Sto-ho-hop!” “You’re hu-hu-hurting me!” followed by very hurt sounding sobbing. I felt tears form in my eyes and I called out to my brother. He yelled back from his room “What?!” I ran down the hall sobbing and opened his door. I turned on the light. He looked less annoyed and more concerned as to why I was crying. I explained what I had heard. He sat up in bed out of fright. We braced ourselves and I led him to my room. We heard it loud and clear. He looked frightened. We peered out the window upon his suggestion to see if it was coming from outdoors. We couldn’t see anyone. We threw on coats and shoes and went outside on to the lawn with flashlights.

We did a fairly thorough scan of the immediate area in 360 degrees with the flashlights, and could not see anyone. We heard it again and clung to each other in fear before bolting back indoors. We went to our parents’ room, woke them up and explained what had happened. They came down to my room and we all heard nothing. They did their best to calm us down, and we ended up sleeping on the floor in their room out of fear. My brother got to sleep soon after. It took a while for me to drop off, but eventually I did. I had a very disturbing dream of a man brutally pounding on a boy and the boy crying and begging him to stop. I awoke crying and absolutely beside myself, and tearfully explained my dream to my Dad who listened with an increasingly disturbed look on his face.

When breakfast time came, my grandparents wondered why I looked terrified and had tears staining my cheeks. My parents sat with me, and I explained. My grandparents looked at each other in horror and comforted me saying nothing was going to happen to me.

My parents drove us back to Welland that evening and I was shook up for days, as was my brother. A few years later, my grandparents told me they had spoken to a few of their friends in the area about the incident during Thanksgiving ’04, and one man they had known for years mentioned that there had apparently been a boy that was beaten to death by his father at around the age of 12 or 13. It supposedly happened in the 1920’s in the area where my grandparents’ house was. After finding that out, I got physically sick right then and there, and never could I return to that house.

Both of my grandparents have since passed away. One in 2010, one in 2011.They had sold the house in 2008 before they lived out the last stretch of their lives in a small lakeside cottage in Niagara. The memory bothered me for quite some time after they both passed on.”

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