A few years ago, I moved out of my house. I have a family, and they wanted to get out just as bad as I did. Of course, there was a reason for us all wanting to leave the damned house so badly, I didn't just want to move for fun.
The previous owners of the house were supposedly Satan worshipers. They performed rituals, made voodoo dolls, and possibly witchcraft. One day, there relatives wanted to see them because they hadn't seen each other in a long time. What the relatives didn't know was that the home owners were Satan worshipers.
The next day, the relatives did not return. Police came to investigate the scene. In the basement, they saw four bodies hanging - The two owners and the relatives. Ever since then, the house was said to be haunted by the Satan worshipers, The two relatives, demons, and some say even Satan himself.
Having moved in the house only 4 years after the murder, my family and I believed none of this murder nonsense. We lived a calm happy life for the first year. As the years went on, my family started hearing noises coming from the basement at night time. One night, my daughter even said she heard a door slam and saw a figure from the basement. We told her it was just a dream. She slept in my room that night.
One day, I took my son to an old video game shop. No, I'm NOT about to say a creepy old man gave him a hacked Dig Dug game. My son was a big fan of those "Plug and Play" video games (You know, those little things with a joystick and two buttons that you plug into a TV and choose from a number of games,) so I bought him a Namco Plug and Play. Since our family was always watching the main TV in the living room, he had to play it in the basement. He had a deathly fear of the basement, so he made me watch him play on the sofa.
Every time he played, he always chose Dig Dug. He loved the game so much. Nothing was wrong with the game, the title screen wasn't different, it wasn't glitched, it ran smoothly. One day while he was playing, we started hearing loud stomps coming from the room.
"Daddy, what was that?" my son asked. I didn't answer. A few minutes later, the stomps started getting louder and quicker. When the stomps sounded so close I could almost feel them, the TV knocked over. I grabbed my son's hand and we sprinted up the stairs, slamming the door to the terrible basement on our way up.
"Honey, what's going on?!" my wife screamed, as she dropped my daughter's barbie dolls.
"The.. the stomping.. and the TV fell over... and-" my wife interrupted me in mid-sentence.
"Calm down. Take deep breaths," she said, soothingly. I walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a chair to sit down. I guzzled down a glass of water and took a deep breath. I could hear my son crying in the living room.
"Casey was playing his little game and we heard stomping. It got louder, and the TV fell over."
"Are you serious?" my wife asked. She didn't believe in things like ghosts and demons.
I walked her to the basement and showed her the fallen TV. Next to the TV was a trail of bloody footprints.
"Oh my god... Let's stay out of the basement for now, wait a few days, and see what happens," my wife said.
That night, my wife and I woke up to shaking and vibrating. Not knowing what to think, we ran out into the hallway, where our kids were crying. We grabbed the kids and ran into the living room. The door to the basement was wide open, and there was a body hanging from the ceiling behind the door. I covered my son's eyes and we turned the lights on. The shaking stopped.
"Everyone, grab what you need and get in the car," I said. There was no way we were spending another night in that disgusting, horrible house. My son sprinted down the stairs to the basement.
"No!" I shouted, but it was too late. He ran into the basement. He ran back up the stairs holding the Plug and Play in his hands. My kids grabbed their blankets and we walked to the car. We took nothing else with us, we wouldn't dare spend any more time there. It was 3:00 AM, so my kids were very tired. They laid down in the backseat and fell asleep with their blankets on.
I drove us to my mom's house, which is roughly an hour drive. Once we reached her house, I woke my kids up and knocked on my mom's door. I knew she had sensitive ears and she fell asleep watching TV in the living room. She woke up and opened the door.
"What are you doing at this time of night?" she said.
"No time to explain, do you have a place for us to sleep?" I asked. She pointed to the toy room and sat back on the couch. My family and I walked to the room, laid out mats and blankets, turned the TV on and the lights out, and went to sleep.
That morning, we wake up to the scent of pancakes and eggs. We ran to the kitchen and ate. After that, my son asked me to watch him play Dig Dug in the toy room. We walked in, and he plugged the game in. This time, something was different. The only option was Dig Dug. He chose Dig Dug. The title screen was much different than before; The background was red, the blue outlines were red, Pooka was completely red, his face was black, and his eyes were red, almost as if they were glowing. The bottom of the screen said "DIE" And where it said "NAMCO," this time it said, "AMO," like "AMMO". Where it said "ROUND 1," it said "O". The green dragon looked like Satan and the top of the screen said "U I R." This didn't make any sense at all. Dig Dug at the top of the screen, instead of having a blue mask and black eyes, it was pale white and bony, as though it were a skeleton.
My son turned around and gave me a confused look. I shrugged, like it was nothing. He pressed start, and the screen went red for a few seconds then the game started. As my son drilled through the ground, Dig Dug started to expand more and more as though he were inflating himself. Finally, he popped. The screen went red. In black text, over the screen it said, "WHY DID YOU LEAVE." After that, the text said, "LOOK." I looked at the door. There was a shining knife in the door. I rubbed my eyes and it disappeared.
That night, I heard an inflating sound coming from the living room. I walked in and saw the most hideous, terrible thing I've ever seen. My son, only 6 years old, was hanging from the ceiling, with an air pump attached to his stomach. I screamed the loudest I've ever screamed. I didn't bother waking anyone up. I took the plug and play, threw it in the yard, and whacked it with a hammer. I went inside and fell asleep, hoping what I had seen was just a dream.
I was the first one to wake up that morning. When I walked into the living room, my son's body was gone. I looked around the house, and I saw no signs of him. A few hours later, I walked to the toy room to see my daughter playing the Plug and Play that I had destroyed the night before. I slowly walked away. I walked out to the front yard where I destroyed the Plug and Play. Where I had smashed the machine, my son was standing. His eyes had been pulled out.
"Daddy, daddy! Look!" he shouted. He pulled out the air inflater that I saw in him the previous night. I sprinted to him, and tried to grab him but he disappeared. That day, my family kept asking, "Where's Casey?"
You might be able to guess what I saw that night.