My name is Sue McCaffe. When The Police investigation was completed, I was one of the volunteers who came to clean our neighbor’s old historical house. Blood stains were seen everywhere and the stench of death was over powering. Some of the other's ran out onto the lawn, threw up and never came back. But five of us did stay and did our best to pack up the belongings, which would be shipped to a distant relative, back east. The police were baffled at how and why the family of seven was murdered. Bill and Jessica Jacobson were parents of five children, ages two through nine.
Their phone line worked and the doors were dead bolted from the inside. There were no signs of forced entry and all the windows were found locked.They ruled out suicide. Rumors were that the family’s bodies were literally ripped apart. Tossed around like rag dolls is what I heard. As I looked everywhere, the blood high on the walls practically in every room confirmed it. The peculiar thing that baffled police most was the door leading to the basement.
It had been nailed shut with three heavy boards but the boards now lay on the hallway floor. The light switch to the basement also didn’t work. As I was bringing back another box, I stopped in my tracks in front of the basement door. I saw on the inside of the open basement door, large, deep claw marks dug into the hardwood door and I cringed. My mind forced me to believe that something horrible was in the basement and had forced its way into the house. Something evil.
What could it have been I thought, and where was it now? A dank, coldness escaped from the blackness of the basement as I stared down the stairway. I hurriedly moved away and went to Jessica’s bedroom with my box. Even the ceiling was blood splattered, with dried drops of blood on the bedspread. I began to pick up books by the night stand, mostly western romance novels. That’s when I noticed a small blue book partially hidden between the bed and the night stand.
Instinctively I picked it up and the cover of the book said, ‘Diary’. Out of curiosity I turned to the last page and in shaky hand writing were the words, "I know we’ll all be found dead!" Instantly, I dropped the book and stared at the diary on the floor by my feet. I wanted to scream, yell, cry for help, but I couldn’t, as tears rolled down my cheeks. The answer to what happened to this nice family would be found in that diary, I knew it and I reached down and picked it up with trembling fingers.
As I turned to page one, there was one sentence at the bottom of the page that appeared to have dried tear stains on the paper. The message was, "May God have mercy on all who enter this demon possessed house!" I had known Jessica for years and she was not one to believe in demons, ghosts and the supernatural. But it was her handwriting and her name was signed under the eerie message. As I turned the pages, one by one, Jessica spoke of a lot of things. You know the excitement of moving into a historical old house and restoring it.
Page after page seemed typical ramblings of a mother, a wife with jabbering little one's running everywhere. Towards the middle of the diary, the pages stuck together and were hard to separate without tearing them. I realized they were from Jessica's tears. The entry date was...
November 2, 2004...
"I heard the voice again coming from the basement and I’m so frightened. Bill, Oh my God! He thinks I’m losing my mind. There’s no power in the basement for some reason and when Bill went down stairs, I picked up the phone to call the police but the line went dead, no dial tone. Then I heard footsteps running down stairs and the twins rushed to me crying. Bill came back upstairs and told me no one was in the basement and I asked him to check the phone.
To my shock, the dial tone sounded clear. The twins know something, I can see it in their eyes but they won't tell me anything." I read Jessica's Diary, like a bestselling novel I couldn't put down. Over the weeks she wrote about events or what she calls, disturbances. Eerie things that sounded like they were right out of a Stephen King horror movie. She wrote again of Bill going down into the basement to check out sounds. Sounds that he too began to hear.
December 14, 2004...
"Bill heard the sounds too. Finally he doesn't think I'm going nuts! He heard the sounds of some sort of metal can being tipped over, like a five gallon paint can or gas can maybe. Bill searched the entire basement and I watched the beam of his flashlight sweeping the room, from side to side. Suddenly, to the far right, I saw a shadow of something running into the darkness, away from Bill. I called out his name desperately and asked him if he saw anyone?” and he calmly said "No, there's nothing down here darling."
Finally, he came back up the stairs to my relief, but told me in a shaking voice, there wasn't anything metal in the basement, no cans, nothing. Oh my God! I’m scared and I held tight to Bill as I cried. "Bill, while you were down there, I saw your flashlight’s beam. I saw where you were the entire time. There was someone or something down there with you, I saw its shadow!” I really don't know if he believed me or not.
“He told me besides the furnace, there wasn't anything in the basement, not so much as a cardboard box." Jessica wrote. By now tears were rolling down my cheeks for Jessica, because I believed her. I believed every word. And now, now her entire family was dead, murdered by something so horrible; I was too terrified to imagine what it was. The basement door. Oh No! The basement door had been boarded up. But now, the boards were scattered on the floor in the hallway.
I crept down the hallway toward the basement door as I heard other's moving around in other rooms, boxing things up and talking to eachother. As I approached the basement door, I was shaking, almost unable to breathe. Then, I was next to the door desperately afraid of the sounds I might hear. But there was nothing but eerie silence and a cold breeze. That seemed odd, because I knew there were no windows or outside doors, leading to the basement.
Once more I looked at the marks on the inside of the door. Who or what could have made such deep marks in a hardwood door? Then I heard it and tried to block it from my mind, pretending that my ears were playing games on me as I grew hysterical. I heard the same familiar scuffing sounds Jessica had heard made across the basement floor. The sounds that made Jessica cry out and call to her husband. I didn't wait another second as I slammed the basement door shut.
I screamed at the top of my lungs and as I did, I heard footsteps on the stairwell. They were heavy, solid, but slow. Something was taking it's time to reach the door. I heard the other's rushing to the hallway frightened, looking in both directions until they saw me on the floor with my back against the door. As my four friends rushed to my side, I pleaded, "Hurry, push if you want to live! Push as hard as you can against this door, don't let it in!" I shouted.
Everyone got down on the floor and leaned against the door and then something hit the door hard! Something hit the door so hard Becky screamed. Again and again we felt the door being pounded as the force pushed us away from the door. Each time we were pushed away, we pushed back as if our life depended on it. The look on everyone’s faces reassured me that they knew what ever had killed Jessica and Bill's family was now trying to kill us.
I looked down at my feet as I strained with all my strength to keep the door shut and I saw the heavy wooden boards with nails protruding in a pile. Jo Ann was crying she recited the Lord's Prayer. Soon everyone staring at me followed my eyes to the boards and had the same idea, to re-board the door. But we dared not let go of the door. Suddenly, we were all reciting the Lord's Prayer together and then came the smell.
The most horrific, indescribable stench of rotting flesh filled our senses. Like something that had laid rotting out in the summer sun for a month. Then I heard it, well, I think we all must have heard it, the sounds of something going down into the basement slowly, limping. Whatever was at the top of the steps was going back down into the basement as I felt my tears rushing down my cheeks.
My eyes looked at John and then to the nearest board and he nodded nervously. But then he hesitated and I nearly went insane. "I know where there’s a hammer. It's on the kitchen counter, but one of you must get it." John said. No one moved. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst. Becky was the smallest of us and she reached over and clenched my hand hard.