When I was about 5 years old we lived for a short time in an old house in a small town. Strange things happened in this house to more than just myself. We blamed those strange things on the Duck Man.
No, he wasn't half-man, half-duck. He was a man who lived in the attic (unbeknownst to the adults in the household). I never saw him, but one of my young aunts claimed that he watched over the house and everything that "belonged to it". That included a black baby duck that my sister and I found wandering in the side yard one hot afternoon.
We were playing outside and saw this small black bird wandering in a sunny spot near the side of the house. It was small and cute and so of course we thought we should play with it. My aunt, just a few years older but much more in-the-know than the two of us came upon us before we could lay hands on the duck (as if we actually could have), and warned us to leave it alone. She said it belonged to the man who lived in the attic.
My sister and I looked up at the house and to this day I remember seeing the curtains over the attic window fall back into place, as if someone had been peering out at us.From that day on I could swear I heard footsteps in the attic of that old house although no one else would admit to hearing them. The baby duck, of course, vanished without a trace. So did other things now and then. For the rest of our time living there, we blamed the Duck Man for such disappearances