The Black Door At The End Of The Hall

Back in the early 80’s in San Antonio, TX my young wife where having financial problems and ended up homeless. At one point we stayed at one of the local camp grounds, in on of the little huts. They were small but comfortable with electricity and air.

One evening we went out to grab a bite to eat and afterwards we decided to go for a walk around the area. It was mainly an industrial area divided by large fields of grass. So we were walking and came upon a large grassy field with a house that looked like it had been moved there, dumped and abandoned.

The house looked pretty large from outside, it didn’t have a foundation it was sitting on concrete blocks. There were a set of stairs leading up to the front porch of the house but not connected to the house, just kinda leaning up against the house. So curiosity got the best of us and we managed to get up those stairs and into the house.

It was wired, the front room of the house was fully furnished, I mean large sofa, loveseat and other chairs and whatnot stands. Shelves with books on it. Pictures were hanging on the wall, dishes in the cabinets, I mean the house didn’t look abandon like the outside. We expected to walk into a empty house, but the house was far from empty. We slowly made our way down the hallway, I was halfway expecting to run into someone staying in the house.

The house had three bedrooms and they were all fully furnished. One of the rooms was a kids room, judging by things on the was I would say a boys room. The other room you could tell it belonged to a teenage girl. The third room was the parents room. My wife looked at me and said “look like whoever lived in the home just up and left with out taking anything more then their clothes”. But how the house got on the lot was a mystery.

The was a closed door at the end of the hallway, painted an ancient shade of black, chipped and faded with age, I thought led to another bedroom or closet. The doorknob, a twisted iron spiral, gleamed strangely in the dim light, almost inviting me to grasp it. As I reached out, a rush of wind seemed to escape beneath the frame, swirling my hair as though the door had exhaled, urging me to come closer. I hesitated, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. What waited me behind that threshold? Was it merely a forgotten room, or was it the very embodiment of every dark tale that had ever been told?

Investigative journalist Paul Beban decodes newly declassified documents to solve history’s greatest paranormal mysteries. Image Courtesy Apple Services

I opened the door to see stairs leading down into darkness. I didn’t have a flashlight so I couldn’t see anything below. Then I thought BELOW! I said to my wife “this house was sitting on blocks how could their be a basement”? Apparently this was no ordinary door, it led to something profound and sinister, a dark dimension.

It was starting to get dark outside and the house didn’t have electricity so my wife said “it’s getting dark lets get out of here”. As we were leaving I said to my wife “let me check something out” I walked around the side of the house to see if there was a door visible from the outside of the house, and there it was, with no doorknob, so it looked like if you opened that door from the inside you would be looking outside. But that’s not the case.

Later that night as we sat around a campfire with a couple of friends that we had met since staying at the campground, Fred and and his girlfriend Billy, we told them the story about the house with the never ending basement, they were interested in seeing the house themselves. So we agreed to visit the house again the next day.

Since the house was surrounded by warehouses and businesses we decided to visit the house after 6PM, when most of the business will be closed. A little after 6pm armed with two flashlights from Fred’s car, we sat out to visit the house. Me my wife Fred and Billy. We arrived at the house a few minuets later. I pointed out that the house was on blocks and couldn’t possibly have a basement, and we proceeded inside the house.

We entered the house slowly, searching all the rooms and checking all corners with the flashlights. Retracing the steps of the day before, until we reached the door. I looked around at everyone and said, “we’ll here’s the door”. I reached for the doorknob turned to open it. A lingering scent of damp earth mingled with an unsettling stillness that raised the hairs on my arms. It was almost as if the very walls were breathing, watching me, waiting for the moment I would step inside the door and down the dark stairs. Chilled, yet propelled by a curiosity I could not suppress, I grabbed my wife’s hand she grabbed Billy’s hand, Billy reached back to grab Fred’s hand, and as a group we all stepped inside to the door.

I hesitated, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. Suddenly our surroundings had completely changed. I yelled “step back, now” we took a step or two backwards and we were suddenly back into the house. I turned to Fred and said “tomorrow we will come back and try again but we will need some rope”. We all agreed and left.

Investigative journalist Paul Beban decodes newly declassified documents to solve history’s greatest paranormal mysteries. Image Courtesy Apple Services

When we got back to the camp ground, we again grouped around a camp fire to discuss our trip to the house, joined by Fred and Billy’s friend, Lee. We told Lee about the house, he wanted to see the house, so again we all agreed to meet at the camp ground the next evening and go see the house.

The next evening after closing time we gathered at the camp ground with our flash lights and rope, and proceeded to the house. When we got to the house Lee looked around and said “wow” and asked “how could there be a basement in this house, Fred remarked “brotha you ain’t seen nothin yet”. We proceeded into the house and looked around. Everything still looked the same. We slowly walked down the hallway checking the rooms as we go until we reached the basement door. Before opening the door I looked around the area for somewhere to tie the rope, I saw a bed in the last room that looked heavy enough that it couldn’t move. I reached down and tied the rope securely to the bed frame leg.

We tied the rope around each one of us securely and proceeded to the door. I opened the door and we stepped in. Lee said “well I’ll be a son of a bitch” Fred said “I told ya”. Shining the flash toward the floor to see where I was stepping, we took about three steps forward to where the first step down was. Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the stillness, echoing through the endless dark—a sound so raw, so desperate, that it paralyzed me, and the realization chilled me to my core. we were not alone. We stood there in silence frozen in fear. Just then we heard a soft but stern voice say “TURN BACK, LEAVE NOW YOU DON’T BELONG HERE”.

In a panic, we turned and moved as one back to the door, with a swift breath, I twisted the knob and pulled. The door groaned as if awakening from a long slumber. The house was pitch black except for the light from the dim lights from the surrounding buildings and our flashlights. I said “this is impossible we were in there only a few moments, it doesn’t get dark until about 9PM and when we went in it was around 6:30PM”. Looking at my watch it said 10PM, what seemed like a few minutes was actually 3 and a half hours. Had we lost complete track of time? Lee made his way to the bedroom to untie the rope, and we hurried outside the house and untied ourselves.

We got back to the camp grounds, we really didn’t know what to think about what happened inside the house. I said “I need a beer”. My wife said “maybe that’s what happened to the people that lived in the house, maybe they got lost in that. portal and couldn’t get out”. We chilled the rest of the night and spoke no more about the house.

After a couple of days we were sitting around shootin the shit and brought up the house, we decided that the next day we would visit the house. A little after 6PM the next day we sat out for the house. It didn’t take us very long to reach the area where the house was located. It was a nice fall breezy evening. It was so nice out that I didn’t even realize that we were walking pass the area where the house was, but the house, the house was gone.

Investigative journalist Paul Beban decodes newly declassified documents to solve history’s greatest paranormal mysteries. Image Courtesy Apple Services

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