I'm a retired police officer. I have some stories to share with you.

I?m going to share a few stories with you.
One by one though, because if I was overwhelmed by them, I have a feeling you kids will be too.
I retired from the force ten years ago at the ripe age of fifty. I?ll begin with a story from my twenty years as a police officer that has stuck with me like a thorn.
January 17th, 1994 -
We got a call about a woman who had locked herself in her bathroom. She said her boyfriend was trying to kill her. My partner Juan and I arrived to a dimly-lit house at the end of a street. The lamp posts flickered incessantly and the wind occasionally danced the trees and bushes. The clouds were thick and the air ice cold. We took position at the front door whose porch ceiling sounded its numerous wind chimes at the slightest gust.
?Police! Open up!?
Juan proceeded to kick the door open with all the force he could muster. We scanned the house downstairs. Clear.
?You hear that?? I asked.
Juan looked up the stairs. We both heard the gentle cries of a woman. They were so quiet, so subtle, that they seemed concealed within a room, behind a door.
?Thought she was in the bathroom,? Juan said.
We slowly made our way up the house?s curved staircase with our guns drawn.
?Ma?am? It?s okay,? I began, ?You?re safe now. No one?s going to hurt you.?
The crying stopped abruptly, as if someone hit pause. Then it started again, abruptly.
?But he?s still here,? the woman replied, making shuffling noises behind the bathroom door.
?My partner and I checked the entire house. No one is here, ma?am. You?re safe.?
The front door of the house slammed shut. Juan and I gave each other a frightened gaze and I could notice his brow sweating despite the cold night. I used my head to gesture for him to take a look. Juan stood from atop the stairs and looked down at the front door.
?Just the wind,? he said, with a reassuring expression.
?Probably,? I joined.
Then a gentle voice came from inside the bathroom.
?Are you sure, Officer Bradley?? the woman asked.
The entire night at that scene, neither my partner or myself mentioned each other?s name out loud.
?Ma?am? What did you say??
Juan became agitated. ?Okay step back, I?m kicking it in.?
?No, hold on, hold on,? I said. ?She might be sitting right by the door, we don?t wanna hurt her.?
?Officer Bradley, tell Juan that if he touches this door I will visit his family at the late hours of the night and break down a door of my own.? The woman?s voice was an octave deeper.
I had never understood the expression, ?white as a ghost? until that very night. Until I saw the horrified face of my partner at those sinister words. I couldn?t stop him from kicking in that bathroom door this time.
But when he did, we found nobody inside. There wasn?t a window above the shower through which to escape or another door to go through. And yet, we were both certain that we just had a full conversation with a woman behind this door.
We scanned the entire house, including the backyard, one last time, inch by inch. Nothing.
My partner and I proceeded to communicate non-verbally the rest of that night. So when it was time to leave, we gave each other a look and left the house without even closing the front door.
Now this is the part of the story I haven?t told anyone. Not even Juan. He, and I, were disturbed enough, so I didn?t wanna tell him what I?m about to tell you.
When we left the house, I told Juan that I?d drive us back to the station that night. He probably thought I didn?t notice, but his hands were shaking too much for him to be able to safely drive us back. He doesn?t drink coffee.
As I reversed the cruiser out the street, Juan couldn?t even look at the house. But I did. And I sincerely wish that I hadn?t.
My eyes squinted through the thick darkness between me and the garbage can near the house to see a black figure kneeling by the gate, as if watching us leave. And, as we finally began to drive away, as the house became more and more distant in the rear view mirror, the figure slowly stood itself up. And, I?ll swear even today, that as it stood up, its head slightly peaked over the roof of that two-story house.


Source.