I have read a lot of stories that claim to be true, but this really happened to me and a girl I was dating at the time. I was 25 and living on my own in my grandpa's old house. It was a creepy old house with one of the creepiest basements that I have ever seen. It was always dark and had an old furnace, lots of cobwebs, and a crawlspace that went under the other side of the house. And to top it all off an old creaky wood staircase. I always felt weird whenever I went down there. Grandpa had passed away and I was just caring for the house until it would be sold. Two of my cousins lived with me for awhile, and one of them had had some particularly spooky experiences in the old house. She hated to be there alone. One night I was returning home from a movie with a girl that I was dating. As I entered the back door in front of her, I noticed that the oven was open in the kitchen. This was odd because I only used it once the entire time I was there. I turned on the light and walked over to investigate. It was hot inside lick it had just been used. As I stood there, puzzled, there was a tremendous sound like the slamming of a huge iron door that echoed up from the basement. The girl that I was with was scared and asked me what it was. I stood there for a couple of minutes listening, but heard nothing. My date wanted to leave, but I insisted that it was probably just the wind. (Even though I was actually quite nervous) We moved from the kitchen to the den and sat on the couch talking. We had probably been there for about an hour, when our conversation was broken by a sound. My date gave me a terrified look and whispered, "What is that?" I looked in the direction of the door leading to the basement and we heard it again. The distinct sound of someone slowly walking up the stairs. One creak at a time. I got up quietly, grabbed my rifle, and moved silently towards the basement door. All the while we we could hear the steps getting closer and closer to the top. My date was in tears and motioning for us to leave and call the police, but I ignored her. I was standing in front and to the side of the basement door when the last creak stopped at the top of the stairs. My heart was pounding in my chest. After a minute or so had passed in silence, I loaded my gun very loudly and shouted, "I have a gun and I am not afraid to shoot!" I held my gun up, grabbed the door knob and jumping back threw the door open. There was nothing there but the pitch dark stair well. I flipped on the light and still there was nothing there. That night was the beginning of a lot of really weird things that happened to me in that house.