When I was around twelve years old, me and my family lived in an old house. It was your basic creepy house you'd see in movies. My uncle Patrick moved in a few months after we moved in. He had just been released from a mental hospital. He wouldn't sleep in one of the rooms. He wanted to sleep in the attic. My father let him, because he didn't want to upset Uncle Patrick. I didn't like him being in the attic, because the attic was above my room. Uncle Patrick had a habit of moving things around at night, and it would sometimes keep me awake at night. My Mother told me that Uncle Patrick was harmless, and that he wouldn't hurt a fly. I was up late one night, playing on my tablet. That's when I heard Uncle Patrick start singing. I didn't understand what he was singing, but then he started to giggle and laugh. "I'm gonna kill all of them! Starting with.. you.. " The last part sounded so close to my ear I thought he was in my room. I held my breath and closed my eyes tightly. The noise stopped, but it started again in my closet. I heard the same giggling in my closet and I knew him was going through my stuff. I got off of my bed and went to wake up my mother. She told me it was just a bad dream and told me to go back to bed. There was no way I was going to go back into my room, so I went into my older brothers room, and explained everything to him. He agreed with me. "I haven't seen Uncle Patrick in a few years, but he doesn't look like he did. " A few days after that, Uncle Patrick ran away. My dad went up into the attic and he had to call the cops at what he found. Uncle Patrick had three bodies up in the attic, hanging from meat hooks. It turns out the guy who was staying in the attic wasn't even my Uncle Patrick. Uncle Patrick never left the mental hospital.