So a horrifically scary, emotionally scarring, and/or humiliating experience? Alright, here it goes.
I have never told anyone about this. In fact, I am using TOR to post this and the email address I registered with is an alias that forwards to someplace else. All to protect the identities of those involved, since confronting this.... horrific event.. would just be too hard.
About 8 years ago I lived in a large 4 story house in a nice coastal city. It was one of many that my company owned and this particular one was used by my family for business. I had been living there for several months alone without my family who were staying in our home state. At the time there were no consultants or employees staying with me either. Quite peaceful and uneventful.....
I lived in a bedroom on the 3rd floor and my parents had their own room on the 2nd. Since they spent more time in this city, theirs was the master bedroom with a large master bath. A winding staircase linked the 2nd floor to the 3rd floor.
Around 3am one morning I was still going over some reports on my computer. The server closet was in this room so there was a fair amount of background noise. I looked up from the display and realized that I was hearing a distinctive rap-rap-rap-rap sound coming from somewhere. I was curious so I began to investigate. I quickly concluded that the sound was not coming from my room.
Several years earlier I was involved in an industrial accident that deprived me of my hearing in my right ear. For those of you who are not hearing impaired, it makes it very hard to locate anything based on sound. All sound is just omnipresent.
Anyways, I opened the door to my room and the noise was even *louder*. Much louder than I expected. It was at this point that I became a little concerned, not much, but the ground work for outright terror was being laid. Since I was living there alone all the lights were off. I briefly considered grabbing something to use as a weapon, but decided to "grow a pair" and just turn on the light. After all, there was a security alarm on the house so it was improbable that it was an intruder. After turning on the light I was able (by turning my head) to determine that the sound seemed to be coming from downstairs. I switched on the light for the stairs and slowly proceeded down to the 2nd floor to confront whatever was making that god awful racket.
I reached the hallway on the 2nd floor and determined that the sound was coming from the master bedroom which had its door open. As I approached the room the sound became louder and louder. It ceased to be a rap-rap-rap and became a rapid THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. It was at this time that I went from concerned to, well..., a little bit scared.
It is hard to describe this sound, but it was not a natural sound. It had an odd quality to it and was quite erratic. It was as if somebody or something was repeatedly beating something. It was quite loud too, a little louder than a hammer hitting concrete.
It was at this time that I choose to get one of the children's aluminum baseball bats out of the closet behind me. Armed with the only weapon I could think of, I proceeded into the darkness of my parents bedroom.
Their bedroom was quite oddly constructed for some reason and you had to move several feet along the wall to reach the light switches. I had no choice but to slide my one arm along the wall while trying desperately to adjust my eyes to the darkness. Once flipping on the lights I scanned the room quickly. There was nothing. No movement. Nothing out of place. Just the sound. Now it was even a little louder after entering the room.
I won't lie to you. At this point I was scared shitless. Not yet scared beyond all reason, but that moment was fast approaching. It was the sound. I just don't have the words to describe this *sound* that was emanating, now conclusively, from my parents master bath. It was like someone was rapidly beating something with a hammer, but too fast to be human. It couldn't be. This was something else.
I approached the bathroom and stuck my arm into the darkness to find the light switch. I briefly considered just saying, "fuck it" and calling the cops but that last shred of manly ego once again told me to grow a pair and just turn on the lights. Again... I saw nothing. There was a large walk-in closet to the far left, but before I concentrated on that I noticed the 2nd drawer in the bathroom sink. It was open very slightly, about an 1/8th of an inch. But it was SHAKING. HARD. There was something in there that was banging around the inside of it at a million miles an hour with an ungodly amount of force.
I just stood there stupefied.
A rat? No. Another animal? What kind of animal has that much power that can fit in a 12 inch high drawer? It sounded like there was a construction crew and the marble floors and walls just made the sound that much more deafening. I slowly approached the drawer and studied the opening. It was too dark to see what was on the inside, but every so often it would violently hit the front. If it had enough time it would probably force it all the open.
I decided that I had to deal with one way or another and grabbed a large bath towel. I still had the bat. My grip on that had not loosened at all since the hallway. I grabbed the knob and quickly pulled the drawer all the way opened prepared to smother whatever was in there with the towel.....
I was not quick enough. It shot out at incredibly high speed, hit the opposite wall and slammed into the center of the bathroom floor. It moved around on the floor with lightning speed from one wall to the other banging into everything it touched.... including me.
I just about had a heart attack. I even peed myself a little. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING could have prepared me for the truth.
There was a 12+ inch plus shiny HUGE metal vibrator tearing the fuck up out of the bathroom. Every so often it would hit my bare foot and it actually hurt a little.
I started to laugh and it became one of those deep belly laughs that would not stop for about 10 minutes. My sides hurt and tears were streaming down my face. The absurdity of the whole situation. It was absolutely hilarious till I realized... just where... the vibrator was going on a regular basis.
DEAR GOD.... and I had to handle it.
I threw the towel down onto it and wrestled my mother's huge chromed nuclear power vibrator down to the ground and eventually found a good grip to twist it into the off position. It had a simple screw type operation on the back (no pun intended). Most likely it had laid there dormant for months till a slight movement caused the contacts to arc. The massive amount of instantaneous movement must have been enough to jam it into "high".
As if that was not enough, I inspected the drawer. It took out CHUNKS of HARDWOOD. I cannot exaggerate how powerful this thing was. To make that much noise and to actually hit the sides of the drawer with enough force to carve out chunks of wood. The vibrator itself was in perfect condition. Not even a scratch. It must have cost $50,000 dollars and a few years for a crack Swiss engineering team to develop this monstrosity in this first place.
I had to get the drawer replaced along with the contents, which were destroyed. I was determined to make sure that everything was in the right place. All of the creams and whatnot had the right amount taken out of them. Anything to prevent me from *EVER* having a conversation with my mother about it. EVER.
That's it. That's the most horrifically scary and embarrassing story I got with permanent psychological scarring. I hope you were entertained