My old home had a very dangerous ghost/spirit of some kind, Lots of people got hurt (Almost everyone in my family including myself to the point of broken bones, stitches, stables etc.), and many who lived there have died. I believe in them 100% fully. It also made everyone the majority of the time on our property become depressed and sometimes very violent, the animals would act as though they were being stalked by demons and would be loud and terrified all the time.
The home I lived in had a pretty horrific little history as well.
I sleep at night knowing I'm 500 miles away from my old house xD.
Many, the stories I could tell... from old 40's grainy record music in the vents with audible words, my parents had to renovate the house when they bought it (It was flood damaged and when I was 8 years old my sister and I was playing in the crawl space and found the previous owner in the dirt with a tiny amount of flesh still on him. He was there for over 20 years. He died from drowning and went missing during the flood that weakened the house). My dad did the walls himself before I was born with pink fluffy insulation but when I was 12 the wall collapsed near the bottom after some water damage from a thunderstorm and what came out the bottom was red moist rocks mixed with perfectly intact dry obituaries burned around the edges (One including my dad's who had died just 1 week before and no way to get into that wall to place it there. My dad died in the home, and when I was running to avoid my sister trying to get a beating on me 2 weeks after my dad died, I felt a hand grab my ankle while running (also had a red manly hand mark on my ankle clear as day). I fell forward and tumbled past my dad's chest (He put everything that was important to him in that chest). My foot was ripped into by the latches of the chest and when we got home after the ER my mom saw that somehow the latches were warped and hot. She opened the chest and there was a photo of my dad's foot with the wound in the same exact placement with the same exact amount of stitches on the exact same foot when he was my age, dead center on the top of all his belongings. My mom thought the photo was gone because my dad didn't like remembering how he got the wound. Like the spirit was saying "You're next" or just trying to torment us. My mom couldn't keep up payments alone anyway so we couldn't stay, even if we "wanted" to.