Note:This is a story that was shared around my entire town. I don't know how liable this is, but I have been to the house.

The two Mormon Missionaries did their rounds in Oamaru, a small coastal town on the south island of New Zealand. It was a cold day, and they had added extra layers in an attempt to stay warm as they did their work. One of the Elders had only been on his Mission for a few days and was complaining to the older missionary about the constant walking and talking to people, which was hard on him. Elder Smith was a little socially awkward and was shy when it came to strangers. The older missionary comforted him with his experiences and told him, "Nothing is going to happen."

The two Missionaries headed up the hill and ended up on Hull Street, small street with houses on one side and a beautiful view of the ocean on the other. The two men came to a certain point of the street and felt it would be good to knock on a specific door. The two men headed up the path to a house on the hill. They approached quickly but with every step the small hill seemed to get steeper and steeper. The air around them seemed to get heavier.

Their breathing patterns seemed a bit off, and Elder Smith turned to the old missionary and asked, "Elder, should we be here?"

"There is no place we shouldn't be," the older missionary replied.

The men approached the door to the two story house; the house from the outside seemed no different. When they turned around they noticed the hill to be the same. But to them there was something awfully wrong about the house. The older missionary knocked on the door, completely rejecting the bad feeling he felt.

But as his fist went for the 3rd knock in a row, the door slowly creaked open; revealing a dusty interior with mirrors dotting the entire hallway. The two elders were put off by the strange interior but stood there waiting for the owner.

From the depths of the dusted hall, an old lady's voice echoed from the spacious sitting room at the end of it. "Come in," she croaked. The two missionaries proceeded to enter, even though their guts were opposing this decision.

They came into the large sitting room where they found a single chair. Upon the single chair, there sat the lady who had called them in, hunched over and also covered in dust. The lady seemed still.

She then began to sob, her cry having an eerie ring in the Missionaries' ears. The crying turned to cackling, and her cackling into laughing. The two missionaries, too frightened to do anything, turned around and went outside. As they exited out onto the veranda, the door behind them slammed. And the lady's laughter continued horrifically. She began to curse God and screamed blasphemous things at the missionaries.

The two missionaries discussed what they should do, still standing outside of the house. They decided that they would call their Bishop (Preacher) and see what they should do. They called him, and after a few rings the voice of their Tongan bishop came through the phone. "Yeah boys?" he said assuming it was a routine call.

They went on to explain the situation they had found themselves in, and their bishop within minutes arrived at the house with a fellow member of their church. They went straight to the door and proceeded to knock. Like the time before, before the 3rd knock hit, the door opened. The Tongan bishop stood in the doorway and proceeded to say in Bislama, "May we enter?"

The bishop, like the Elders, had served a two year mission on the island nation of Vanuatu where, on his mission, he experienced this almost everyday.

The lady replied in the same language. "If you must," her voice not only changing language but changing tone. It seemed to not be the voice of a woman, but that of a large man. They entered into the house; the Missionaries slowly drifting behind them, still afraid of the lady. The Bishop turned to them and said, "Faith over fear, boys"

The missionaries nodded their heads and the Bishop went to the lady.

He knelt beside her and began to pray in Bislama; his words not heard nor understood. But within seconds of starting the prayer, the Bishop began to cry. The tears rolled down his face as he lifted his head to look at the woman who began furiously shaking.

"Jesus is there for you," he said in a quiet voice.

The woman's countenance almost instantly changed and tears began to roll down her face. The eerie feeling that once polluted the room lifted.

More Info


Supposed house Location: Hull Street, Oamaru, New Zealand

Author's note: I live a few hours out of this town, and was able to talk to Elder Smith about his experience. I also had the opportunity to meet the lady. She has since then converted to their church and continues to live in this house.

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