First of all I have to give some back-story. I’ve grown up and still live in a house that is not far from a historic village.
Well really it’s a park but anyways. One of the first houses inside the village is a house called “The Prince House”. As the story goes a rich prince decided to build this home for his wife and unborn child. Construction wasn’t complete yet when his wife went into labor and gave birth in the house later on. A week or so later both her and the newborn fell ill and both soon died.
The prince finished construction and lived there despite his grief but he too soon fell ill and left for his home country.
Now since I live so close visiting there every summer is almost a requirement. When I was ten my mom took me up there late one afternoon. Most of the tourists were elsewhere in the park or had gone home. I went into the prince house, it was my favorite house, not big but grand in its own way. Downstairs was a lady dressed in clothes for that era, every house had them to tell the history of the house and other things. I decided to go upstairs. I should point out that besides the lady, my mom and myself no one else was there. I went upstairs and of course all the rooms are made up to match the era and have glass doors so people can look in. In one room, the supposed baby’s room, was a woman in a white dress holding something in her arms rocking back and forth on the rocking chair. I wasn’t really frightened I thought it was an actress, until I noticed I could see the painting behind her, through her. I freaked and ran out. After much calming down from my mom we went back in and asked the history lady about any other actresses. She told us she was the only one assigned to the house that day. I didn’t return to the park until I was 13.
Which is where a second thing happened in that house. I finally got the nerve to return. I went into the prince house and started walking upstairs when a small portrait of a stern looking woman caught my eye. I’d never seen it before and as I stared her eyes took on a very evil look and she smiled� a very twisted evil sinister smile revealing a row of yellowed fangs. This time there was no convincing me to return. I have not been in the house since and I’m 24. I refuse to even go to the park. In recent years thanks to a book I found out that the portrait was found in some chest that was originally from the house, thought to be the mother of the wife. Apparently they tried hanging it in various places and it always fell down or was moved. It seems to like its new home on the stairs, scaring people.
Believe me or not, I saw what I saw and it’s kept me from ever returning to that house or the park.
Sent in by Neko, Copyright 2010 TrueGhostTales.com