So basically, when I was younger like 7-9ish I lived with my real mom sometimes. She was a all out atheist, and kept weird paranormal things- me and my brother had experienced the same things down there, things down there moved on there own- we would hear footsteps when no one was home, my rocking chair rocked, a figure ina hobbit form in my attic, and pale pink eyes in the closet compartment. My brother was the worst with this stuff though. He claimed to have seen a bright yellow figure run up our flight of stairs and woke me up. I had fell back asleep when he whimpered screams. I wake up to hear a chair slide, and find the chair about 3 feet away from the table. And my brother saying “it was here!” He described what had tried to hurt him. He said it’s face was pitch black with a tattered black cloak, and its fingers were like bones and its legs were faded away. He said the demon had tried to smack him with the chair. And I had a little brother with autism, he screamed and we ran in there I had to use sign-