Waaaay too late not to get buried but reading this thread has reminded me of something from when I was a kid.
My father had somehow gotten his hands on a throne/chair by H.R. Giger. If you're at all familiar with his art, you'll know that it was black, made of spines, and generally an all around horrifying piece of furniture. I remember pressing my fingers on some of the ridges and feeling the material it was made of give a little, the material also felt slightly sticky.
I'll remember that thing until the day I die because at least once a week, 8 year old me would wake up and go to the kitchen to get water. On the way there I'd have to pass that damn chair.
And every time, without fail I felt like I was being watched. All the reactions you can have to fear? My body had them. My spine would shiver, the hallway would seem to get longer, shadows got darker, and I swear I could feel a hum in the air. I had to see that chair for 3 years until we moved and it disappeared.
Don't ask me where it went, I don't know and I don't care. Fuck that chair.