Old Farmhouse

From: Steven (shortys2@aol.com)
Story type: Ghost
Location: Southern Indiana
Source: Form Submission

On a cold winter day me and my two friends, both named Tim, went on a twelve mile hike through the hills of southern Indiana. It's composed of trees, corn fields, and some old farm houses. When we made it to the last mile of the hike we saw an old farmhouse that interested us. Within the surrounding one hundred yards of the house there were old chicken coups, rusted farm equipment, and a number of "no trespassing" signs. After we explored all of the fun tools, and chicken coups, we decided to enter the house. Half of the first story floor had fallen into, and exposed, the basement. The basement was filled with old furniture, and had about a foot of water/ice in it. There was no light going into the basement so we decided to explore elsewhere. After we went around the first story, which was very small, we decided to go into the second story. The only problem was that the steps were on the part of the first story floor that went into the basement. We decided that I would be lifted up through a large hole in the ceiling and put into, what appeared to be, a bedroom. All that we could see was a dresser and old looking clothes spread around the room. I was nervous about going up, but did not want to show my friends, so I went up. I was looking around the room, dangling my legs through the hole when I saw something that scared me beyond belief. There was a woman standing in the corner of the room, next to an old night stand. She was dressed in a night gown, but I didn't hang around to find out anything else. Without saying a word I jumped back through the hole and ran out of the house, my friends followed me, knowing something was wrong. I tried to look into the bedroom through the old broken windows, but the sun was going down early because it was winter. I told my friends what I saw and we began to walk to Tim's house. When we got to the edge of the property we rested on an old tractor, rusted by the weather. We discussed the house until Tim saw that there was a deer leg hanging in the tree above us. It was a fresh leg , it looked like it was torn off, not cut, and at this sight we ran the last mile back to Tim's house.