I was renting a room in a house that became a tenement, a small service room with only a small window and a door that lead to the backyard.
I woke paralyzed, facing down, and when I managed to turn my neck, I saw a black silhouette, male in outline but pitch black otherwise, sitting in a chair by the bedside. It carried a crook handle cane, and wore an "1860" top hat. It said something to me, then chuckled. I couldn't discern the words, but the scorn and the mockery were crystal clear. I grunted, and fought the paralysis as it laughed, and with a roar, I woke up.
Face up.
And there was nobody there.
And I never saw the thing again, even after six months when I left the place.