I wouldn’t say that I have a story as such. More like a collection of instances that come together with the phenomena of the Hat Man in a way that gives me a sudden realization. First, my mother is and was a very reckless and selfish person, who thought that she was one of the most powerful beings in the world. She often practiced ritualistic magic and witchcraft, though she seldom knew what she was doing truly. She used to threaten myself and all of my siblings with her “Power” and often told us that she cast spells “For Us”. She even once, during a thunderstorm, invited “All of the spirits of the world and earth” into our home. This, coupled with her constant abuse and negligence created a perfect situation for lot’s of supernatural activity, benign or otherwise. Our house was haunted. It was haunted by the ghost of a woman who died there. It was haunted by a colonial soldier and it was haunted by a lot of shadow people and at least one demon. The demon even growled at and attacked my brother, when he tried to steal from my mom. It was H A U N T E D – Haunted. When I was a child, I used to see shadow people every time I turned around. They were almost always out of the corner of my eye and were of all shapes and sizes. The most common one was one I called “The Dark Lady” It looked like….well it looked like a shadowy version of depictions of the Virgin Mary. That is the best way that I can describe it. I would also see smaller ones that I’d often mistake for a family pet, only to call out and then search for said pet, finding it missing. As I got older and, more importantly, moved away from that house, I stopped seeing them. I officially saw my last shadow person (I think) when I was a teenager. It was in the hallway of the house. When I was very young, about 6 or so I think, my sister and I were home alone. She was about 16 if I recall correctly and she was babysitting me. It was getting late and she didn’t want to have to worry about me in some other part of the house, so she had me sleep in this comfy fainting couch she had that was right up next to the window that overlooked the yard. I have always been a night person and always had trouble sleeping. So there I was, late at night on this chair staring up at the shade of the window, trying not to be scared of the dark. What happened next I’d dismissed as being a figment of my imagination, until I heard about The Hat Man. As I stared up at the blind, suddenly the silhouette of a skeleton wearing a wide brimmed had appeared on the shade. It had it’s hands on it’s hips as if to either mock me or scold me, I’ve never been sure which. I waited for a bit for him to disapear, but he wouldn’t. Eventually I began to cry and my sister, begrudgingly let me sleep in her bed. I never saw the Skeleton Man again, but I never forgot. At some point in my youth, I honestly could not tell you when, I began to have a horrible recurring nightmare about an old, seemingly undead man, wearing a huge black cloak and a wide brimmed parsons hat. He was clad in all black from head to toe, except for his face which was always hideous and mean looking. He had no facial hair and a hooked nose. I think he also had a cane. I have never seen this man anywhere else, in any sort of media, or at anytime in my life – except the dream. I will occasionally see him in my dreams now and then and the dream is often terrifying. I’ve been trying to do a lucid dream thing, where if I see him, I KNOW I am dreaming, because I never see him anywhere else. It doesn’t work at all and I have a nightmare. He hasn’t been in my dreams at all in the last 3 or so years. This is probably due to expelling a lot of negativity out of my life. As I said. I don’t REALLY have a story, just a collection of things that seem to fit together. Thanks for listening to them.
By Kevin Gubernatis