You had recently bought a house out in the middle of Oklahoma. It was worn down and probably should've been condemned but it was a cheap house with a decent amount of land, and a fresh start was very much needed.

Maybe a week after you had moved in, you noticed things moving around by themselves or even the occasional floating object. You mostly ignored it, hoping it wouldn't become a problem.

One particular day, it was a gloomy and stormy day. The storm had knocked out the power in your house, much to your dismay. So you were stuck with basically nothing to do.

Purely out of boredom, you decided to go through the belongings of the previous owner who had died. There wasn't much except for what his family hadn't taken. All of the stuff was stored in the attic, so that is where you went.

As you began to go through the old stuff, you heard a voice come from behind you. Odd, considering you lived alone.

"Don't touch my things."

the voice sounded like it belonged to a man, maybe late fifties to sixties.