My buddy Steve's house is haunted. We hold band practice in his basement twice a week and we never go more than a practice without some creepifying thing happening. This usually comes in the form of a direct blast of air on the back of your neck or in your ear. Sort of like somebody blowing out candles on a birthday cake.
There are no vents down there, the bass drums are floor level, any concussive air escaping them is low to the ground.
Occassionally something whines in the back corner behind the bar. It whines in tune. I think it wants to jam.
I love that place.
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