Double Deez Tattoos

Double Deez Tattoos

Double Deez Tattoos

I got my first tattoo at the age of 18. I’m creative and find that power behind an image can be something that only a few people can really grasp and understand. It’s for this very reason that great tattoo artists stand out in comparison to those that simply do it for the sake of a job.

Andrew Harris is someone that I’ve known since Kindergarten, which based around a rule of time would grant me the ability to say, I know him pretty well.

If personality paid in today’s world, Andrew wouldn’t have to work. He has a way with people that contributes toward his actual calling: art, and the skill of tattooing. His skill and his passion in the work makes his shop stand out amongst his competition, which is exactly why you should take a minute to cast him a vote to generate the recognition his establishment deserves.

Cast Your Vote

Click Here

double deez tattoosdouble deez tattoos

This article goes beyond the effort to recognize a friend that has a gift. this is a statement to drive the quality of work that his shop has to offer. He has a variety of artists that excel in their craft and offer the very best to their clients.

The list of artists, as well as their art portfolios can be found by clicking here.

double deez tattoos

Many of us find ourselves crawling through search engines when making the decision of a tattoo. It is, after all, a decision that lasts forever.

The value behind these online polls and contests has become a reference point of security. I can state first hand that if you are looking for someone that delivers the perfect tattoo experience, then look no further. From the moment you walk inside the shop, up until the completion of the tattoo, you will be in good hands at Double Deez Tattoos.

Getting to Know the Artist- Andrew Harris


What made you want to become an artist?

Ever since middle school I wanted a tattoo. I begged my parents for a machine, which they declined, but they let me get my first piece of art at the age of 16. I was hooked. Being an artist wasn’t even something that came to mind, but with fate being a funny thing, tattooing kind of chose me. Bill “Wizard” Paterson was a friend who offered an opportunity working in his shop, at that point it was just a customer services opportunity, but it grew from there.

Did you get an apprenticeship? Or What was the training involved?

Working at Wizards put me in a position where I learned a lot from daily observation. An apprenticeship was offered, which is extremely rare. Most people need to search for them, I was really lucky. After 2 years of dedication I absorbed enough to be ready to tattoo and take on clients.

During this time I ran myself into debt, I put all my time into learning, it was all a risk, but I knew it was what I wanted to do. If I had to redo it, I would make the same choices. 

What is your personal style of tattooing?

I like to work off of photos, otherwise known as photo realism and prefer black and grey as opposed to color.

Is there a specific accomplishment thus far in your career you’re most proud of?

Some artists may highlight specific pieces of work they’ve done, and sure I have pieces I’m proud of, but the most valuable accomplishment, to me, is the group of artists I work with on a regular basis. Shops have a common ground for trouble and that is keeping artists working together, in sync, with minimal problems. Ego’s can be an issue, self-empowerment, the things you would expect in a skill-driven occupation.

The group we have here is a family, we moved up from the co-worker status a long time ago. We rely on each other.

What’s the most challenging part of tattooing?

The fact that there is no room for error. Everything is permanent and clients expect things to go perfect, which is completely reasonable, it should go perfect.

Any advice for people thinking about getting their first tattoo?

It’s not a rush. Take your time and do your research. So many times i’ve seen people rush it just to get it done and that isn’t what tattooing is all about. Tattoo’s are about expression and appreciating the end outcome of a piece of art. People tend to forget that tattoos last for a little while.

Spread the Word

Andrew is a hard-working artist that took a chance and pursued the strongest passion of his life. Was there risk? Absolutely. Concerns? You bet. Did they pay off? Andrew wouldn’t trade what he does for a living for anything.

This is a chance to give back to a shop that cares so much about art, and the work they do involving it. Take a minute to give appreciate them for their hard work, cast a vote with a click, and promote artist’s that are truly passionate about what the work they do.

Give Double Deez Tattoos the recognition they deserve, cast your vote by clicking here.

Stephen Bortsalas Film Productions

Stephen Bortsalas

Stephen Bortsalas Film Productions

Stephen Bortsalas is a personal friend that has been on a journey to develop film for as long as I’ve known him. His personal website, 4 Mile Radius Productions can be accessed by clicking here.

I know very little about the film industry, it’s actually safe to say that I know nothing. The extent of my knowledge is the personal preference of being a film buff and the genres I like.

It doesn’t take away from the fact that film is a creative industry that has incredibly talent working behind it. This brings up my next point: breaking into this industry is incredibly challenging.

stephen bortsalasstephen bortsalas

This post is a post to promote a personal friend of mine that, one that I’ve have known for years, that is not only passionate about his craft, but passionate about life itself.

Professionally he is hard-working, self-driven, and creative. On a personal level I view him as a role-model. He’s someone you can actually look up to and I don’t state those words in a casual way.

This is a link to his debut trailer, Denounced, which I encourage everyone to check out. You can view this trailer by clicking here.


Getting Personal

As mentioned, I’ve known Stephen Bortsalas for a long time. I worked with him at Wegmans. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t the nature of the work that created the friendship. My feelings for Wegmans are not a secret, you can read about that here. Should a film arise where Stephen survives a satanic cult the muse will be Wegmans.

I speak for myself there, aka, Wegmans leave Stephen alone. You definitely suck, but it’s only me stating it.

Stephen became a friend quickly because we were two creatively-driven people that made conversation interesting and fun.

I had a quick interview with Stephen on account of wanting to get this information up and running.

stephen bortsalas

What got you into film?

As a young child I was always drawn to the spectacle of movies. It transported me into another place where my mind could be let free to imagine. After the loss of my mother film took on another meaning and allowed me for brief time to escape from the pain and this is where I fell in love with film.

What makes you passionate about it?

It’s something that was born into me and feel it’s my calling. I love the creative process from writing, shooting, editing, and then to the screen. Film has impacted my life greatly, so I want to give that same feeling back to people. It’s one of the most rewarding feelings seeing your finished product.

What is your top goal in the film industry?

My goal is to impact peoples live through the art of cinema. I want to be best and have my name/company be a household name. Be a filmmaker whose work changes lives and is thought provoking. So, I guess the next Spielberg lol. I want to do what I love for a living. The only way to do great work is to love what you do.

Favorite Film?

Jurassic Park…. I was obsessed with dinosaurs as a kid. I inquired about the new or the old versions, and was told that he was referring to the old versions of the film.

Can you elaborate on the old and the new?

I really enjoyed the new one and they did some nostalgic moments well. But nothing comes close to the original. The first Jurassic Park was shot on film not digital which makes it more realistic/gritty. Also mostly done on practical sets/animatronics back then not all this green screen cgi. The first one pioneered the world to special effects. Jurassic World is the second best in the franchise. Can’t beat the first time you see T-Rex in the original.

In Closing

Everything written above takes the word passion and defines it around an individual, my friend, Stephen Bortsalas. I support his quest to achieve his goal and make his dream a reality. I admire his drive and the things that drive his motivation.

Stephen, this is to you my friend. Any kind of exposure this may bring is the very least I can do to encourage your great efforts of following your dream.

Contact information for Stephen:

Business Inquiries- (610) 955-5767



The World I Once Knew

The World I Once Knew

world i once knew

The World I Once Knew is a poem about how we grow and eventually look back and wonder, how has the world changed? This is another written back in 2014, bringing all poetry back to life.

The wind chimes of the night
Played a melody inside
Caressing all the broken hopes
That lost their breath in stride
I tried to keep the demons in
They traced along my skin
With every scar, a lace of time
That celebrated sin

The pain inside became invoked
Each second wearing thin
The ticks of time became a mesh
Of light that slowly dimmed

Breathless and left incomplete
My heart chained to the floor
I’d push to last another day
But I can’t take much more

I’ve whispered prayer to myself
I’ve told the biggest lie
As my heart began to fade
I watched it slowly die

When it lost its core of need
Wound surfaced on the skin
And as I watched it slowly bleed
I watched the world spin

In the moment of last grasp
Left beaten, black, and blue
I watched the world slowly fade
The world I once knew

Past Tense

Past Tense

past tense

Past Tense is a poem that I wrote back in 2014. I’m going to leave it as is, I’ve grown as a writer since then, but for the sake of originality, as-is.

These breaths are lifeless
These eyes are damned
Don’t have the strength,
Or will to stand

Fault lines my mind
A mix of time
With all the answers
I couldn’t find

Stretched with the need to find tomorrow

With chains that drag on broken ground
A voice that’s void of human sound
Look yourself dead in the eye
Fight when life’s a withered sigh

Each day begins with a doubt
What can we live with, and without

Face the demons deep inside
A smile of mischief
And pain to hide
Grip them up, wish them well
And send them packing, back to hell

A soul that’s broken with a hole
Heals with the strings of self-control

Swallow grief, bend with will
Never give up on tomorrow
As hopes are thin, pain is full
All thoughts are bathed in sorrow

It’s the need to see
The sense for more
Admission that inside is sore

It’s the moment you choose to live again
That everything else becomes the past



Loss adrift
Broken bliss

Lost inside
Yet alive

Cold ensnares
Empty air

In defeat

Empty still
Without will

Fade away
Now, today



The twilight of thought
Clouded by judgment
The inevitable becoming
As ghosts fade to nothing

Yesterdays past-tense

Recycled mistakes
Scars strain the mind
A smile filled with emptiness
Crafts the eyes of all forgotten

Words coiled with deceit
A victimless step
As horizons become stale
Hopes struggle to survive

Destiny takes off its mask

A taste that tenses inside
Reminding of familiar things
Pride once worn on the sleeve
Wears down to shame moments later

Steps mimic the hollow
Aftermath of exhaustion
Carving stories in the rain
Tears blend in nature’s promise

Dark skies tranquil kiss

Guided by instinct
These eyes may have no home
This heart may lay empty
The fire inside is very alive

The bloom of a new moon
Carries the whisper of unknown
A gentle, calm reminder

This fire may last forever

Nightmare Inside Me

Nightmare Inside Me


I cast my thread of empty hope
Tying shut all I don’t know
This masquerade of broken dreams
The silhouettes not what they seem

Tears fall to pattern, a story misplaced
Reflecting the changes that lie in my face
They spill the story, just who I am
And the fall I viewed in my last stand

Cause I held on for so long
And I can’t find where I belong

These eyes are tired from the grief
The illusion hides what’s underneath
This front I’ve shown has met the end
A puppet to my own pretend

Cause when I reached to feel something
I met the ashes of my past
The love and hate that couldn’t last
And a wish to belong never answered

The more I reach, the further I fall
The whisper that is my hope’s last call

Each breath feels like forever
I forget when things could simply be
This fabrication thats become me
A patched up batch of broke belief

When you have nothing left to stand by
Count your breaths with each cold sigh
And walk away, there’s nothing left
A hole that spreads along my chest

I had no choice but to let go
I’ve lost all I’ve ever known

At one time I had a heart
Pain chipped away, broke it apart
And when I reached to grasp it close
It seized and faded as I let go

The tarnish spread like a disease
The pain became all that was me

I watched a world slowly fade
I watched a life fade day by day
One final clutch, a dance with tide
A last embrace with this dark side

And the fading reminder deep inside
Of all the pain I seem to hide
Nothing left to reach or see
Left with this nightmare inside me



The last breath of a dream
The weight breaks the back
The blank stare that becomes
The empty shell left behind

I can almost smile sincere
The lashes on my back
Trails of a struggled story
Scars of a better time

When the pain traded
Granted the life worth living

Life pours from my eyes
A collection of these broken times
The very ideals that kept
Everything as chance worth chasing

Yet one can’t forget
A life withered and wasting

When you look me in the eye
Don’t focus on the pain
Focus on the endurance to the pain
And the reminder of what one

Can survive

Behind the Prison of Two Eyes


Behind the Prison of Two Eyes

Splinters of bone push through the skin
I couldn’t keep the demon in
The screams and wails, and broken nails
Like a pedicure to the broken mind

Salvation I had hoped to find
Became the subject of a fantasy
I couldn’t hide what lay inside
And I became a tarnished lie

Consumed by shadows, absorbed by hate

The image of tomorrow
Becomes the ashes of a dream
Wishes become nightmares
Left ripping seam by seam

Hopes become timid scars
Each breath taken away
Led to a realm of loss
Lasting forever and a day

This twisting path could go on forever

It wouldn’t matter, all looks the same
Poison floods driving insane
Varied shades of filth and decay
Unspoken doubts each step of the way

Inside grasps and holds a toll
The lone familiar, stinging cold
It drapes the skin, it chills inside
Chained, alone, stripped of pride

A body bound with memories ties
Trapped inside confusion’s lies
Pain constained inside a sigh
Behind the prison of two eyes

Image from:

My Paranormal Experience


My Paranormal Experience

I’m going to start this entry off with saying that the paranormal is something that people will debate and disagree over forever. Skeptics and believers will always both exist. This isn’t an effort to convince anyone of what is or isn’t real, this is simply an experience that I went through that can be verified through multiple accounts.

I was always fascinated with the paranormal. At the age of 12 I saw a shadow person, yes, the references made in various ghost shows, they do exist. I saw one at midnight at my own house, and I saw the silhouette jump to the side of the hallway when I looked down it.  It terrified me.

That was essentially the birth of my paranormal interest. I began to watch the shows and find it all fascinating, but I never pursued it on my own. I did, however, discover that I was sensitive to the stuff. I could sense when something was around me. If something was off about the atmosphere, for whatever reason, I would be able to notice it. This caused me to read up on on the subject.

I have read a ton on the occult; I’ve read up on demonology, as well as covering several different religious texts (satanic bible included.) I’m a believer in the saying that knowledge is power, and the more ignorant you are to another point of view, the less you truly know about anything. I mention all of this because it pertains to what happened at the house I rented with my ex-wife and son.


It started with an interest in a house that was up for rent. We went to walk through it and when we were in the basement there was a non-functioning well. I will take this moment to sound a little batshit insane and make the claim that wells and things of that nature (attics, basements, ect) are all areas that are connected to the theory of portals/gateways to all things paranormal.

This was an area where I felt something significantly off and I pointed it out to my ex-wife. I said it had a bad feel to it, she didn’t want to take my word for it, and we ended up renting it days later.

Repeating the fact, Wells are pretty much gateways for anything spiritual. There are no instructional booklets as to whether it attracts malevolent or positive “things,” but nonetheless they attract something. In my personal experience, I could sense a spirit down there. I knew it was there, and it had a sense of fear around it. That is an immediate SOS for something with ill intentions. As skeptic won’t believe it, but if you’re someone with an open mind then think of it this way: our body reads things. We can read body language and our senses can pick up other things as well. Sensing a spirit and identifying intentions is normally as simple as recognizing whether you feel fear, or feel an urge of fascination.

My mention of something being “not right,” again, wasn’t taken serious.

Paranormal Interests

The topic came up one day that we should try and use a Ouija board. Honestly, I’d always wanted to try one out and see if it could work, so I said sure, why not? I agreed to try it out under the conditions that I completely ran the show. I had read about ouija boards, and while I wasn’t religious per se, I do have the common sense to not screw around with spiritual things that I don’t fully understand.

I knew what to watch out for, and I knew what spirits could do on it if it was used the wrong way. I made it clear what questions I didn’t want asked with the understand that I would stop playing if it wasn’t followed.

After we put my son to sleep we began our experiment and we contacted a spirit that called itself “Nelmond.” I made it clear that spirits lie prior to playing and made it clear to not believe anything it said prior to playing. My ex-wife immediately began asking it stupid shit she shouldn’t have, questions such as when are we going to die, and I kept my word. I immediately stopped using it, and forced it to say ‘goodbye’. While one the topic, yes, you can force a spirit to say goodbye.

We resumed using the board after I explained that if my rules weren’t followed it would be the last time I touched it. she let me do all the talking. It claimed I was a “strong spirit,” that it could ‘sense’ me. I asked for information that I could use as a way of verifying whether any of the information was true. I asked for specifics, dates, relatives, how it passed away, and other things of that nature.

After I got some information I said I would talk with it tomorrow. We shut it all up and put it away. I told my wife that under no circumstances do we want to be up at 2-3am because that is when spiritual energy is at its peak. I would try to explain this but I simply don’t have an explanation that would be anything but speculation.

At 2am I got a phone call from my friend, and you’re damn right I ignored the call. The problem was that just minutes later we heard in the kitchen area of the house “doof, doof, doof, doof” stomps coming up the basement steps. No one was in the house. I’m a very light sleeper, I would wake up at a simple knock on the door, let alone actually opening it up. I nudged my ex-wife said “do you hear this shit?” She asked me to go check it out. I simply said no. Well, not entirely true, What I said was: “You know what it is and I’m not fucking around with a ghost,” seriously, what was I supposed to do with it?

The following night we reached out again to this “Nelmond” and as we were playing the board I could feel something behind me. I asked if he/it was behind me and the answer: “Yes”, we could feel something touch our arms, not in the sense of physical touch or grabbing, but the feeling you get when you’d feel a cold breeze creep up your arm. The hairs on our arms began to rise and at that I said “This stops now or I stop talking to you for good,” I challenged it outright.



I said that It would no longer be welcome here if it wasn’t going to listen to the rules that are set. I forced a goodbye and I put the board away. That night it was around 9-10pm I could hear stomping around in the attic. It sounded like grown man that was wearing boots and walked with heavy feet. I simply looked at my ex-wife and I was scared, truthfully scared. I called my friend up who was/is incredibly religious and asked if he could come over.

Normally he wouldn’t, but he said he could hear fear in my voice, and he knew that was very unlike me. I’m not trying to sound like a bad ass, there really isn’t that much that gets a sense of fear/dread out of me. He came over and I explained what was going on, and naturally, he didn’t believe it. He had a friend with him and I asked them to hang out for a while and to give it some time. More so, I pleaded that they hang around for a while.

Fast forward to a half hour later and it started happening again, the stomping of footsteps. When it happened I looked at my friend and I said: “Explain that to me please, then.”

He went in the attic with me and he was in dead shock. He could see why I was afraid. He knew a pastor who I brought into my home to try and pray and get rid of this entity. All I will say is that apparently prayer toward these things is equivalent to asking a bully if they mind leaving you alone, or maybe my situation was a special case, but either way, it didn’t work.

Phase 2

I chose to go into phase 2, I decided to have an intervention, yes, seriously. I brought over several friends to help me contact this thing on the board, some with strong faith, some who were just unafraid and had the power to stand their ground. I talked to it on the board and I began to say that it has to leave, many people in the room didn’t believe my story, but in a short time frame they would all become believers.

The atmosphere in the room changed, significantly. You could feel it get much colder, you saw the lights began to dim and flicker. The worst part was that it admitted what it wanted on the board, it spelled my name out. I saw no reason to re-enact what I saw in the exorcist film. I stated I was done with the board, gameover for me.

I stopped playing while everyone else continued the discussion with the thing. It continued to ask for me. Another man in the room, also named Sean, said that there are 2 Seans and it might not be talking about me anyway. It was at this point that the planchette went to the letter “M”, my last name is Monaghan. I again said I was done with it. I had someone take the board and leave the house with it. I refused to play it again in the house. This didn’t make things better, it was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

I was at work one night and my ex-wife called me and asked me what I was doing at the house, I said “I’m still at work Jess.” The response from here was that I “Better not be fucking with her, and that my voice just called her out to the kitchen,” again, I said I wasn’t home. I told her to stay in the living room or go outside with our son until I got home, my shift was just ending.

I went home and I got things under control in the living room. My ex went to the basement for a minute, a second later there was a scream and her running up the steps. She told me something growled at her. At that point there were no longer solo adventures in the home. We stayed together as a family, went everywhere together, the stomping around in the attic continued daily.

I started thinking that my son could see something, so I asked my parents to let him sleep there for a while because I didn’t trust the safety of the house. I further explained that they didn’t have to believe in the shit, but to understand I felt my son’s safety was at risk and that was number one to me.


At this point my deepest, darkest fear became reality. Paranormal things have factors that are far beyond personal control. This entire situation was far beyond my control. It wanted me, it was trying to exhaust me, fatigue me, make me mentally weak. It mentally breaks you over time, it was during this process that I chose to face my fear.

I would go in the basement in the pitch black, all the lights off, just me, and I would sit down. I would say that I was there, I would tell it to make itself known or to get out. I would say that it had no power here, that I forbid it from being in my home. I’d say it was here without any invitation. Yeah, this sounds a lot like someone losing their mind talking to themselves, and if I was to accurately describe the feeling at that time it could very well be that, but it didn’t change the fact I got a response.

Whatever was in my house was really strong. I felt the air change, it was like you could feel the tension just dense, as if it was poison in the air. It caused a feeling of complete exhaustion, both mentally and physically.I decided to look into other approaches to face this head on.

I drove out to New Jersey where there was a ghost shop that supplied all sorts of ghost hunting equipment. I explained my situation to the people there, I provided them with proof, and I bought equipment. They told me not to investigate that it would make me further vulnerable and possibly provoke whatever was there. After the purchase I actually set up for some of their people to come and check the house out as well.

In addition to this I reached out to a well-known paranormal psychic from the UK, which even I have trouble believing in that, but then again, I’m also the guy that is talking in pitch black and asking casper to please relax. I also reached out to the person who invented the Ovulus, a piece of ghost equipment, and it was all for one singular purpose: to better understand what the hell I was up against and dealing with.

New Approaches

I began to talk to everyone that knew about this kind of thing, and I also went against the Jersey store’s wishes, I investigated.

I kept my family safe and I threw myself into harms way. I can’t say this was the most brilliant approach, but I don’t know that such an approach existed period. I acquired the necessary equipment, and I demanded for it to show itself. I demanded for signs that it could understand me, I collected information, and I tried to learn all I could.

At one point things got so weird that I actually called the paranormal psychic from the UK. There was a lot of email exchange to verify I wasn’t just some loon or fan, I made it clear I simply wanted help not an autograph. The more I told them, the more interested they became, which to me was a horrible thing. Someone who does that for a living and seems genuinely interested? Yeah, not a good sign. Anyway, I explained my readings and she told me what they meant in layman’s terms.

Given the readings it was not a human spirit, it was something more, and at that given moment it was standing directly in front of me. The psychic told me that given the readings, which are measured by electrical current in the air, that this thing was more then capable of physical harm.

At this discovery I retaliated with drunken muscles, aka I would drink and when that right amount of stupid sank into my brain I would be convinced I was invincible and that it was time to “confront the beast.” I would go up into the creepy damn attic and call this thing out and demand that it leave my home. My son was still not staying with us at this time.

Further investigation into all this I got EVPs, which for the paranormally inclined is a fancy way of saying a recording that captures a voice when there was no one else in the room. I got an evp of a child calling for help in the basement, and then a growl, the same growl my wife heard. I was way past my fear, I was in protective mode, I said it would never get to my family without going through me. I had the Jersey team come out, they tried to downplay it and claim the “spirit” wanted to share the space. I’m not going to get into what I thought of their suggestion. A common theme that came up though was that we should ignore it, to this day I wonder what an effective way to do that would have been.

It Never Ends

More creepy shit would began to happen. We would go to sleep and hear a little boy talking, whispering. I was snapping pictures constantly to try and get the thing visible and see what I was dealing with. I could feel breathing on my neck at times, I could feel cold spots throughout a room, I had EVPS where I would ask if it knew who I was and it would come through clear as day saying: “Yes, Sean”.

It could even influence things that you saw, which to me felt like a damn hallucination, it was really creepy. I would see pictures of my family on the wall flashing through like a light show. I got a recording of it manipulating shadows in the living room and it freaked me out. I showed the video to several people and they could say that they saw something in the video, and that it was incredibly creepy. You could see the shadow changing and altering and I was simply standing in the living room recording it, there was nothing that could have caused that in regard to having rational explanation.

My mother said that she had come in my house when I wasn’t there. She explained she went in the basement for something, while she was down there she could hear the baby gate from the upstairs get slammed down. She explained to me that she wanted to believe it was the wind but the force that the gate hit the ground there was simply no way that was what caused it.

My father has no belief in the shit, but he came over and went into the basement with me and waited with me. He brought 2 beers with him and said he will spend as much time as it took to finish them. He mocked the damn thing, and then went on to say that the thing was a sissy and didn’t want to mess with the, and I quote, “King.”

With nothing occurring what happened next surprised me because my father isn’t a religious man. He called on family that had been deceased, my father said:

“All right, for anything that is here that isn’t supposed to be here, this is when you check out. I’m calling on the spirits of my parents, Jerome Monaghan and my mother, whose name I forget, there is something here that is trying to cause harm to my son, my grandson, and his wife, I’m asking for you to come here and fight this. I’m asking for you to come and do battle with whatever evil spirit is here and to get it out of this house”, it was so weird, you could feel the air change, you could feel something different, like a weight had been lifted. He explained to me that his mom was always very protective of me, and that she would never let any harm come to me. And believe it or not, it made a difference, at least for a while.

That further elaborated my belief in spirits, they were called to defend me, and they definitely came. I looked into ways to battle evil, burning sage and that kind of thing. I did that routinely, but unfortunately, after a while, this thing came back.

There were little things that caused scares. We got a picture of a girl hiding in our closet, but we had no daughter, and had no friends with one. The night that caused us to leave was something that I will never forget, and even though it sounds absolutely nuts, I’m going to tell the story anyway. Whatever this thing was, it was attached to the house, and the following was enough to get me to leave:

One Last Time

We were sitting in the living room. I had just recently had my son come back to the house. I had my computer open and I was going though some pictures I had taken. I came across a batch there were photos of the basement of that house, but that isn’t the weird part. The weird part was the fact that I noticed they were changing, almost like a video was playing inside of each one and I looked at my wife and said “Uh…are you seeing this?”

The things on the screen were were weird, really weird. I’m talking weird faces and other things that I don’t know how to describe outside of the word morbid and uncomfortable to see. It looked like suffering is the best way to put it, something to cause a stir of fear, and that fear was very much accomplished.

And then it got worse. I closed up the computer and my wife’s eyes were locked on the living room wall and she said “Do you see it?” and when I followed what she was looking at I will give my best account of what I saw. I saw the air with what I would describe as weird pixelation, it was as though there were odd fragments in the air that no words can really describe, they were fairly transparent, it almost looked like that color that gasoline can change the air into. That blurred kind of coloration.

Well, in this “thing” energy cluster, whatever you want to call it, dead center on the wall was a face. It was staring right at me. I stared at it in a kind of shock and then I said “In the name of god I command you to get out of this house, you are not welcome here.” If you are guessing that this wasn’t effective, you’d be 100% right. To my credit, I did become very religious while living there for a while because I had no idea where to turn to deal with what was going on, unfortunately though, at heart, I’m simply not a religious person. I’m thinking god took a voice mail during that event.

Anyway, back on topic: the reaction that I got would be best described as that face staring me down. It didn’t move, it didn’t react, it just stared, it wasn’t remotely phased from what I had said. I made a choice, I said we were getting our son and leaving the house. I made a move for his bedroom, adrenaline overcoming the fear, and went right out the front door, I left the lights on and everything.

On the way to the car my ex claimed to have seen a woman lying in the snow calling out for help. I responded like any responsible person would and said “Get in the damn car.” There was nothing there, I heard nothing and saw nothing. My top priority was getting my son away from the place. I made my case, this is something that had stomped around, growled, caused images to move, and caused physical exhaustion from simply being around it. The likelihood that some woman magically landed on our lawn…I will leave it at that. PS: I verified by notifying the police and giving a call back number, there was no one there.


When we got to my family’s home I started knocking on the door, fairly frantically (I may have been a little worked up) and then my ex said “Sean, it followed us, it’s in the back of your brothers car.” I of course dismissed this right until I saw a shadowed silhouette moving in the back seat, which led to my rational reaction of slamming on the front door of the house the way a 7 year old would having a tantrum over being terrified.

When we got in the house I explained everything that had happened that evening. I just wanted to get some sleep so I went to do exactly that, but things weren’t over just yet. While laying down and trying to sleep my ex pointed out that it was still here, there was something wrong, to which I said to simply go to sleep and that we were fine here. That was when I noticed the air vent for the air conditioning (central air) had each part of it open one at a time. That was it though, after that it was gone, but that was more then enough to convince me I was done staying at that house.

That was the last night that I stayed in that house. I didn’t mention that when my wife had surgery I had an incident where I saw a shadow of an upside down cross shoot up on the wall, or the fact that things had been thrown from on top of the fridge at a friend of mine that was visiting. A lot of experiences happened there that lacked explanation.

When I researched the property it fell in triangular land that at one time was a place that executed criminals in the very old history of the area. There was an image of the place in a book of Haunted PA, the corner of the property was in the book and I recognized it without question.

This experience was me facing my biggest fear and I’ll never forget it.