I love listening to my great-grandma's stories, so I didn't object when she began to recount one of her strangest experiences over a glass of iced tea.
My great-great-grandfather died in 1918 at the age of 48 after falling from a galloping horse. My great-grandmother was only 17 at the time. The story goes that at the gathering after the funeral, a strange man appeared. No one had seen him at the funeral or recognized him at all. He stayed for a long time, hardly speaking to anyone and refusing to remove his coat and hat. When my great-great-aunt pointed out to the man that she couldn't recall who he was, he became absolutely livid and ran from the house. You can imagine how bewildering this was for everyone.
Curiosity got the better of my great-grandmother, and she decided to follow the strange man outside to see where he had gone. She stepped out into the middle of the yard but stopped short at the strangest sight… the man was standing quietly on the roof of the barn, about five yards away, illuminated only by moonlight. She remembers he had an unnatural gleam in his eyes. Even when clouds passed over the moon, plunging the night into pitch blackness, that gleam remained.