I am from Indiana and I lived in ther Tacoma, Washington area 30 years.
Iwas sleeping in a boiler room under Tacoma Avenue in the basement of the Brant Apartment Building. I worked there as a painter, I had the room to myself, bars on the only window, 2 doors one steal door padlocked from the outside and a stick propping the inside, the other led to a room with a civil defense manhole cover and out through a broken down wall which I had covered with around 8 old doors to keep out the cold, that door to the room I was in was hook locked from the inside, the lights were out the wind blew cold and hard as the door squeaked open and the tone of male voices and the sound of soil scratching under their weight moved closer, they lifted the tarp I had over me, I stayed still, it changed shape like a leviathan?
Any way a dog padded me again and again, one male voice said this is not it, the other said ok, and they left the same way they came in, slow and creepy, gives me chills just telling you this. I jumped up to twist that bulb in and seen the door was still latched tight, what a strange room.
Sent in by John Henry Clay Coates, Copyright 2012