Growing up there was an extra room upstairs in our house we used as an office. It had a closet with one of those tiny attic access doors on the side.
We'd sometimes all be downstairs watching TV and we'd hear a creaking sound moving toward that room. The room was next to mine and sometimes I'd find the closet door open with the light on and the little door to the attic cracked open.
There was a spot on the wall that our (declawed) cat would always attack. There was missing paint from the cat attacks.
All of that was creepy, but the night the dog (who never came upstairs without my Dad) started barking in the hallway by my room toward the office was the worst. She barked and growled for a bit, then she started backing off (into my room) while looking up as if staring at the face of a person coming toward her. She backed into my room, then squealed like she'd been stepped on and ran into the far corner from my door and put her nose and eyes into the corner and whimpered. I picked her up and went downstairs to sleep on the couch.
That was 14 years ago and I'm still freaked out by it.
