When my mother was a little girl she fell asleep every night listening to my grandmother saying her prayers. They slept in the same bed while my grandfather slept in the back bedroom of the farmhouse.
One night my grandmother prayed “Satan I command you in the name of Jesus, get out of my house!” My grandmother was addressing the demon she believed caused my grandfather to drink.
No sooner than they has turned out the lights and settled into bed when they begin to hear pacing on the back porch. It sounded like someone wearing heavy boots. The back porch was two stories off the ground with no outside entrance.There was just one way in or out of the house and that was the front door.
At first they thought it was my grandfather, but as they listened they could hear him snoring through his bedroom door. His was the only bedroom that had a door. The other bedrooms only had casings so as to let the heat in from the coal furnace in the middle of the house.
The footsteps continued, SHH,..SHH.. and shuffled to a stop in front of the doorway coming into the kitchen and continued through the house. At each doorway in turn the heavy footsteps, SHH..,SHH,.. paused as if searching the house for something or someone.
They finally came to the front bedroom where my mother and grandmother sat huddled together in the bed cloths terrified. SHH,..SHH,.. The silence was deafening, my mother hid her face in my grandmother’s back as my grandmother looked into the doorway, no one stood there. I imagine a sharp intake of breathe and the rapid breathing that followed as the footsteps continued on their way pausing only briefly as they SHH,..SHH,..moved to pace the front porch.
When the footstep faded away into silence my grandmother jumped up out of bed. She turned on the lights and opened the blinds looking for the source of the disturbance. She of coarse saw nothing.