Speaker 1: During the early two thousands, my husband and I were
enjoying the American dream in Texas. He was a teacher
and a coach, and I was the jill of all trades.
I was an elementary school tutor, cosmatologist, hairdresser, newspaper editor,
and an advertiser. We were fortunate to live in the
wonderful community of Lockhart, the barbecue capital of Texas, where
my husband had a sixteen year coaching job. After several years,
we purchased our first home there. Oddly enough, we had
passed this house for years, never noticing until the for
sale sign went up in the front yard. It spoke
to me. It was Tudor style, a huge wooden oval door,
plant boxes, a clay toil roof, and a full sized basement.
In the South, that is unheard of. Well, being a hairdresser,
you have connections, because when you cover a lady's gray,
she is forever in your debt. I called up a
favor and my realtor friend got me into the house
for an unofficial peak. The house was sad and neglected.
The walls were painted sherbet green, and the heavy dust
covered slated blinds kept it dark like a cave, dimming
the already stained stucco walls. There was standing water in
the basement and some of the ceiling tiles were falling in,
but there were hardwood floors and ornate light fixtures with
sconces on the walls. When I walked into the kitchen,
I knew it was mine. Red countertops and tattered rooster curtains.
I collected roosters at the time, so for me it
was a sign. Even in such a sad state, it
was clear that the house had once been cherished, and
something in me wanted to pour my whole heart into
fixing it back up. So that's what we did. But
when we moved forward with the loan process, we hit
a snag it seeing the house needed extensive repairs and
upgrades that we hadn't anticipated. We were crushed. And then
after a wonderful turn of events, the seller instructed the
realtor to take the cost of the repairs off the price.
The realtor told us that in all her years, she
had never seen that happen. The house had belonged to
the seller's sister, Miss Sunshine, and her husband. They were
the Crags, and they had no heirs. The seller was
in a rest home and took comfort in knowing that
a young family would be moving in well. We had
a three year old son at the time, and when
the repairs were finished, we had a beautifully renovated nineteen
twenties Art deco gym, and I loved that house. One day,
I was in the basement doing laundry when I heard
the door to the stairs open, and I expected my
husband to call out, because he came home sometimes during
the day if he got a break. When he didn't
greet me as usual, I turned and looked towards the
sound of the footsteps coming down the stairs. But it
wasn't my husband that I saw. It was a ghostly
man wearing shined black leather shoes and dress slacks. I
gasped and I squeezed my eyes shut, hollering and falling
backward at the same time, and when I stood up
again and composed myself, there was no one there. We
loved this house and we will be very good to it.
I said to the staircase and my empty basement. You
can stay, but please don't ever show yourself to me,
or I'll get scared and move out, and this place
will become a rental. After that, I never had another problem.
A year or so later, our daughter was born and
life rolled on. Football season came and went. We had
killer parties at the house. Kids were everywhere, men yelling
at the game downstairs, and the wives having good gossip
sessions upstairs, and we were very happy. One night, when
my daughter was about four, she fell asleep after dinner
at the bottom of our bed. I didn't want to
wake her up and didn't be awake for the rest
of the night, so we decided to let her stay there.
Then in the middle of the night, she started shaking
my leg, mommy, mommy, wake up. I heard her whispering.
I thought she was just wanting to get me up,
and after several tries she stopped. And the next morning
I asked her why she had tried to wake me.
I was trying to tell you that those people were
coming in the room, she said, in a matter of
fact tone. What people, I asked her, trying to look indifferent,
while my mind started racing. Well there was a man
and a woman, she said, that came from the kitchen
up the hall to your room. Well, what did they
look like? I asked her, and she thought about it
for a while. The man had a hat that went
down over his eyes, and the lady's hairs was in
rolls and all over her face. She said, Well, I
pictured mister Craig and I Fedora and Miss Sunshine with
that classic Great Gatsby style air, which would have best
described the era in which the house was built. Well,
what did they want? I stammered, daring to ask. They
wanted to play with your feet, my daughter said, nonchalantly,
But I told them to go away. That's what I
always tell them. I was floored, and after that I
was so afraid that I couldn't even go to the
bathroom at night or to the basement after dark, which
was ridiculous because nothing ever happened. There were several times
my son had tried to tell me that his beanie
babies played together. I felt guilty because I didn't listen.
I should have asked him what he meant, but I
knew it wouldn't be able to handle the answer. The
beauty shop sure got a kick out of my story, though,
a few weeks later, my friend called after touring an
old home in Fredericksburg. The tour god explained that they
had an entity that liked to play with the guest's feet.
She called me and we both screamed like girls. Well,
we lived in that house for a few more years
until coaching took us to the coast, and when it
was time to go, I more in the house. Literally,
I made everyone go to the car and I bawled
on the floor. It was a hot July in Texas
and a fluke of rain poured on us. When we
left town, I took all the fixtures from the house,
which I carried guilt about. But this past summer we
visited our old town and after twenty years, we saw
the house again, and it broke my heart. The fence
we built had fallen down, and all my flower beds
were gone. I was glad I saved the fixtures for
Miss Sunshine and for me. Though it was hard for
me to see the house in such a lapidated state again,
I took some comfort in knowing that Miss Sunshine and
her husband had gotten their home back. Hopefully they still
saw the house in its full glory, just as my
daughter had seen them. I love your stories, and as
a proud coach's wife, I'd love to meet your wife. Well,
you're welcome to meet my wife. I'm not a coach,
but I did play. I did play the game. I
love the game. I know a lot of coaches. But anyway,
this was a wonderful story. This isn't one of those
stories it just makes your ears bleed that it's so scary,
But it's just a good, well put together story, and
it's she claims it's true, and I have no doubt.
I have no doubt that this woman and her family
went through this. And I'd be curious to what her
husband said about all this. I wonder if he experienced anything.
I guess, is what I'm saying. So I've had this
for a while. I'm glad I got to it. I
appreciate the woman sending it to me. It's a wonderful story.
Thank you, Hey, welcome to the podcast. This is Cam Buckner.
I appreciate you clicking on the video. Did you guys
have a good Labor Day? Let me know in the
comments section. We had a great weekend and we're having
a great week. My old lady, she's been behaving well.
She's been doing a lot of work around the place,
and I took her as a treat to the ever
delicious Taco Bell today. We've changed our diet recently. We're
feeling great, we're losing weight. Everything's going great, and we
decided to just be bad and cheap today. And let
me tell you about a product I've been using for
the last couple of weeks. This stuff is called a
Magic Mind. It comes in little shot bottles. I get
up in the morning and I drink a cup of coffee.
When I go in, I drink a glass of water,
and then I take a shot of Magic Mind. Let
me tell you what I like about it. You know,
reading these stories off of a computer screen, I use
this little clicker when I mess up, and in a
normal story that I read that might be fifteen twenty
minutes long, I have to click this thing twenty times.
Here's what I found. Since I've been drinking Magic Mind
in the mornings, my little clicks are like one or
two per story. It really is amazing. Magic Mind is
designed to sharpen your senses and sharpen your mind. And
there are other things I'm doing during the day and
I just feel more alert and less lethargic. I've changed
my diet that's helped a lot, but this Magic Mind
product has really topped it off for me. The goal
of Magic Mind is to help you be more efficient
and have a more enjoyable day. And let me tell
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This is a mental performance shot, so in addition to
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and motivated and productive, and it reduces stress with mushroom,
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of the things that sets Magic Mind apart from everything
else you might try. It is one hundred percent safe.
All the ingredients are third party tested and they're sourced
from the best suppliers. This is not a coffee replacement.
This is an additional thing for your morning routine, just
like your daily essential vitamins, but it's for your mind.
This formula uses twelve active ingredients to help support your
body's energy engine. It's not just a fleeting charge up.
It's an enhanced product to stay with you longer, make
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There are over two hundred scientific studies behind every ingredient.
I'm going to put a link in the description where
you can read those there's no risk and they're so
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you one hundred percent, no questions asked for one hundred
days after buying the product. It is shipped internationally to
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using the link that I provide in the description, you
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purchases with the code what if WhatIf. The code is
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and read all about it, and then by your first
order of Magic Mind, you will not be disappointed. The link,
the scientific Studies, the name of the company. Everything you'll
need to know is in the description of this podcast. Okay,
now let's get back to what I ate it. Taco
bell I got the seven dollars Cravings Box, which includes
a seasoned beef Chiloupa Supreme, a double stack taco beefy
five layer burrito, chips of nacho cheese, and a medium drink,
all for the low low price of seven dollars. She's
been doing a lot of work around here. She got
all the garden pulled up. We left a few tomato plants.
She's dug a ditch between the double wide and the
septic tank. She power washed off the back porch. She's
got a bunch of vegetables canned. She did that on
about three days. So my old lady's doing good. So
I rewarded her with a taco bell, the ever delicious
taco Bell. All right, enough of that, thanks for joining
me on this podcast. Let's get into some more stories.
Think you gonna like this? All right, here we go. Okay,
here's a story from my friend kat Rabbit. I've had
this a while, just now getting to it, but it's
a good story. It's about an Alabama white thing, Bigfoot.
Truly good. In nineteen seventy three, when I was thirteen
years old, my sister lived in a small two bedroom
trailer behind my parents' house. She worked an evening shift
at Olympia Mills, and her husband worked out of town.
She had a one year old son that my mother
would keep in the afternoon, but at night I put
him to bed. And stayed with him until she got home.
I had suffered from insomnia at that age, so I
didn't mind staying up late. I loved going to her
trailer each night, and when I was there, I felt
like it was all grown up, like I was my
own boss. She had a new Donnie Osmond album alone together,
and like all little girls at that age, he was
my idol. I would listen to his album all night
until she came in, and then I'd head to my
house and jump in bed. My house was a good
walking distance away, about half a football but my sister
kept her porch lights on and my parents kept theirs on.
For me, it was no biggie for me, and walking
alone at night never bothered me. But one night I
was doing my thing, and I was eating junk food
and listening to Donnie and checking on the baby, when
all of a sudden, I got so tired that I
could hardly hold my eyes open. I normally didn't get
sleepy after midnight, so the sensation was strange to me,
to say the least. Try as I might, I couldn't
find it. I was so overcome by exhaustion that I
lay down on my sister's bed at the end of
the trailer, and I instantly went into a trance like state.
I wasn't asleep, but I wasn't fully awake either. As
I lay there in this sudden, confusing fog of tiredness,
I saw what I can only describe as the Abominable
Snowman through the open window at the end of the bed.
Alabama is known for its white thing, not but white
thang thha n g. It's our version of Bigfoot. But
there I was paralyzed in my sister's bed as this
creature that looked like the Abominable Snowman from Rudolph the
Red Nosed Reindeers film stared at me through the open window.
But unlike a children's movie, I wasn't so sure there
would be a happy ending, and there was no turning
this white thing off. The creature had shaggy white hair
that waved around as he moved and fell around his face.
He was dark around the eyes, and his mouth was
curled into a distorted smile, exposing his sharp teeth. He
slowly reached his arm through the window at me, but
I was powerless to do anything about it, to just
lay there and let it happen. Even if the paralyzing
fatigue hadn't overcome me, I'm sure by that point I
would have been paralyzed by fear. I couldn't scream, or
run or any thing. His long white hair dragged across
the bed as he reached his arm toward me, and
without touching me, he hovered his monstrous hand over my stomach.
Donnie singing in the background, twisted into a faded jumble
of sounds, and then everything went dark. It couldn't have
been but just a few minutes, and I came to
again to the sounds of a record player skipping. I
didn't wake with a jerk like you do from having
a nightmare. Instead, I felt rested and calm. I checked
on the baby, and I spent the next thirty minutes
trying to figure out what the hell had just happened
to me. When my sister came home, I didn't dare
tell her about what happened. It would have frightened her
and she would be moving back in with Mama and Daddy.
And when she got settled, I realized I still had
to walk home alone in the dark. The walk was quiet,
but I knew something was lingering in the darkness and
watching me. I wanted to run, but I didn't let
myself because I didn't want to give into the fear.
I wanted to look over my shoulder, but I was
too afraid, just in case I saw the white thing again,
and if I saw it, that meant that it was real,
and if it was real, that meant there was a
monster in the woods. But my shaking legs got me
home safely, and when I got inside, I locked the
door behind me, and I made up my mind that
I wasn't going to tell anyone what had happened. I'm
the baby of the family and my older siblings would
have ragged me to death. Years later, in twenty twelve,
I had a game camera pointed at my chicken house
in hopes of capturing whatever or whoever I suspected had
been coming into my yard at night. Each day I
would check the camera, but I didn't have any luck
until my buddies Ashley and Denise came over. We decided
to get the SIM card out of my game camera
to check it because maybe they would to something that
I had missed, and as soon as I pulled the
footage up on my laptop, de Nise pointed her finger
at the screen and shouted, what is that. The three
of us huddled our heads closer to the screen to
see what she was looking at. And at first all
I could see was my husband's truck going down the driveway,
which had set off the camera. But in the background
there was something massive and white standing on two legs.
Old boy. Were we excited? And we shouted and hollered
for my husband to come and see, and then ran
outside and put the SIM card back in the game camera.
I got my friend de Nise to run out there
to try to get a comparison picture, but it was
too far for her to set the camera off. I
took the picture of her with my phone anyway, excited
to get them professionally printed as soon as possible. The
next day, I went to the picture developer with the
images from my game camera and my phone. The man
working there told me that he had to blow up
the picture of Denise just to get a glimpse of
her white baseball gap, but otherwise she was way too
small to see. But in comparison, the picture of the
white figure standing exactly where Denise had been was big
enough to see even without blowing it up. He slid
the picture of the white creature toward me, and, out
of curiosity, asked what it was, but I had lost
focus on his voice on the radio behind him, Donnie
Osmond started singing from the album Alone Together. Without looking
at the picture, I put it in the envelope he
gave me, and I wished him a nice day, and
as I drove back home, the memories of what happened
to me when I was thirteen all came flooding back.
I glanced at the envelope of pictures on the seat
next to me, wanting to see the image of the
white Thing, because I knew I hadn't imagined it. But
if I saw it, that meant that it was real,
And if it it was real, that meant there was
a monster in my woods. Oh cat Rabbit. I remember
getting this email, and I remember several months ago, thinking
I can't wait to read this to the audience. But
I had so many stacked up in front of you.
I didn't know this story about you. You and I
have communicated a little bit, and I didn't know this
story about you. This is really good. This is a
really good story. Alabama's White Thing. If any of you
guys know anything about Alabama, the Alabama White Thing, talk
about it in the comment section and let others know
what it is, and I'll do some digging on it and
see if I can find some other stuff about it.
I know cat Rabbit probably has tons of stories from
others in her area. She's a Bigfoot group, kind of
an organizer, investigator. She knows a lot about these creatures.
So thanks for the email. Thanks for the story, kat Rabbit.
I really appreciate it. Love you, Thank you. Hope your
husband's doing well. My wife and I reconnected at our
thirty year class reunion in two thy and eleven. She
was the homecoming queen and I was the quiet kid
in the back of the class. I wasn't social at all,
and as you would imagine, she was exactly the opposite.
But my career in the army brought out the man
that was hidden within me, and I wasn't shy after that,
and we got it together and the rest is history.
And it's kind of funny you travel throughout the world
have to come back home to find what you've really
been looking for. I was working at Fort Bragg at
the time she moved in with her items and we
made it a home. In the spare bedroom, she ushered
in her grandmother's dressing table and large chest of drawers.
The room had a creepy vibe, and I thought I
was the only one who noticed it. I rarely went
into that room, and I noticed that the dog didn't
go in either. I mentioned that I didn't like the room,
and I explained to my wife why, and she told
me that after we had set up the house, she
decided to go in there and sleep while I was
away on a work related trip. She wanted to see
how quiet it was during the night, and she told
me that in the middle of the night, she heard
what she described as an electrical snapping or popping sound,
and when she opened her eyes, she saw a ball
of hazy light off the foot of the bed. She
looked at it for a few seconds, and then it
faded away. She admitted that she didn't want to scare
me over this. She had heard my ghost stories from
when I was in Germany and knew I had issues
with the topic, but overall, she didn't have a bad
feeling about it. It was just something that happened without explanation.
Sometime after this I was awakened in the night by
the same loud, popping noise that lasted for a few seconds,
and I told my wife about it. We'd agreed that
maybe it was just someone checking on us. My wife's
dad was having repeated cancer issues at the time, and
her mother was having problems coming to grips with his
death spiral. They lived in a small town just north
of the New Orleans area, so I found myself a
job out there and we began the long process of
getting the two commands to allow me to move. And
during these four months of moving prep, my father in
law died and after that we ended up buying a
house just a few neighborhoods from my wife's mother. We
set the house up and again the activity started, and
within a month or so we got the house situated
to include grandmother's furniture and a spare bedroom. And in
addition to the strange things coming from that room, we
would also occasionally smell pipe and cigarette smoke wafting through
our house. Well, we're not in smokers, so it was
pretty distinct and out of place smell. I don't sleep
with the doors open if I have the choice, might
be a military thing, I'm not sure. I also don't
tolerate a door left a few inches open because it
creeps me out. Either door should be completely open or
completely closed, but not a little one or the other.
Within our first few days of living in the new house,
we were getting ready for bed when my wife asked
me to open the bedroom door just a little. Well,
because I loved that woman, I reluctantly did it for her,
and in the split second that I glanced into the hallway,
I saw a white figure floating there. It immediately shot
up through the ceiling and set off the smoke alarm. Well,
I told my wife about it. She said it was
just my imagination, but I know what I saw. Two
months after moving in, I noticed that our dog would
go to the back door every night at the same
time and wait. Well, this wasn't unusual if one of
us was coming home from work, but even if we
were both home, he would still go out there and wait.
The first night had happened, I saw the dog at
the back door, wagging his tail with his ears pulled back.
Obviously there was someone there that I couldn't see. For
three nights after that, I'd get my digital camera and
sit in the kitchen and watch the dog sit at
the back door waiting for someone. And believe it or not,
the dog never did that again, So maybe whoever it was,
realized what I was doing and stop. One night, we
had the mother in law over for dinner. She had
started to tell us about the ghost cat that she
had and her husband had observed just before his death.
She thought the cat had come to help him cross over.
I'm not sure how it happened, but we started talking
about dark spirits. My wife and I like to watch
some of the paranormal shows whenever we have the time,
and the topic just came up, and I told my
life and mother in law about a particular episode that
I saw where a guy was being pestered by a
demon and about his journey in coming to terms in
dealing with it. I don't believe that junk, not at all,
my mother in law commented, and right then, directly over
her head, a loud, popping noise went off and lasted
a full five seconds. The three of us exchanged excited looks,
and I suggested that we change the subject. To this day,
my mother in law denies that the incident happened. Go
figure that out. There was another time I was in
the bathroom doing my business. As older married couples will understand,
I had the door open. As I sat there, I
heard the latch pull on grandmother's furniture. I could distinctly
hear it dropping against the metal back plate in a quick,
rapid manner for about fifteen seconds. I finished up and
I asked my wife if she had heard it, and
of course she had not. I took her into the
room and recreated the sound, and I told her to
listen for it in case she heard it for herself.
One day, a few months later, she called me at
work and we played guess what. She said that she
had just heard that noise. Months later, at about nine
in the evening, my wife was going to bed. I
had just emptied the dryer and I was folding clothes,
standing in front of the TV and directly behind my
head again I heard the snapping noise. You better believe
that I dropped those clothes and I moved quickly to
the bedroom. My wife told me that I was as
white as a sheet, and she asked if I was
all right, and I told her what had happened, and
we joined hands and asked the Lord to rid our
home of any unclean and trouble making spirits. I assumed
that whatever it was decided that it would stop bothering
us because we no longer had any interaction with it.
During this time, my job required me to work shifts,
which meant I would be gone for nearly fourteen hours
a day several days a week. My wife told me
several times that she thought I had come home early
because she would often see a man in the open doorway,
only to realize to her dismay that it wasn't me.
But one afternoon she called me. Let me ask you
a serious question. She said, are you really at work? Well?
I assured her that I was, and I asked her
what had happened. She told me that she was soaking
in the bathtub reading when on the wall behind her
head inside the bedroom, she felt three large knocks behind her.
She said. She called out to me, but there was
no answer, And at that moment, my wife had gone
from being a skeptic to a believer. I have an
ex wife in Germany. My daughter visits me often in
the United States. She's now a young woman and she
enjoys reading and on one particular visit. On her second
night with us, she had jet lag and she couldn't sleep,
so she stayed up reading past midnight with her clip
on light. One she told me that the light kept
flickering and turning off. Well, this went on for half
a minute or so when she looked off to the
edge of the room, and in the front of the
chest of drawers was a white, misty figure and it
moved toward her, and when it got next to her
at the head of the bed, it went up the
wall and through the ceiling. She said that she wasn't
scared at all, she was just amazed, knowing how I
would have personally reacted, I was amazed that she didn't scream.
And then in October of twenty twenty, we sold the house,
and prior to doing so, we cleaned it out. And
while I was at work, my wife was clearing things
out of the attic when out of the blue, she
noticed something that looked like a roll of wallpaper. She
pulled it out and dusted it off and peeked inside
the roo that was tied up with a string, and
she discovered inside a half a dozen cartoons of the
original owner of the house. In every drawing. It was
an older man, sometimes in an Air Force uniform, with
either a cigarette or a pipe in his mouth. Was
that the source of the smoke that we kept smelling?
I don't know. We completed our move to a smaller
place and grandmother's furniture is now in a storage area
until further notice. I wonder how the spirit is coping
with that. Oh, that's cool. A harnted piece of furniture.
Everywhere they moved and brought Grandma's furniture, a dressing table
and large chest of drawers. These things would happen in
their house, and then when they put it in storage
everything quit. Could there be horned furniture? I don't know,
but this was a really good story. I've had this
a really long time. I think I've had this for
three years, and I'm so glad to be able to
pull it up read it to you guys. All right,
this is a story about a demon. My editor is saying,
this story was so creepy that I had to edit
it on the bike at the gym, just so I
wouldn't be alone. If you want to listen to this,
fore you let your kids listen to it. You might
want to do that. But I'm gonna go ahead and
read it now. But you've been warned. This might be
a scary story, and there might be some subject matter
that kids would not need to hear. All right, so
here we go. When I was twenty one years old,
I decided to move out to Albuquerque to be with
my high school sweetheart. Being that we were still young
and dumb to some extent, it seemed like a great
idea at the time. Oh what a huge mistake that was.
But either way, if I had not moved out there,
I would not have had this experience. In two thousand
and one, while living in Albuquerque's Northwest Heights neighbors, I
encountered a demonic spirit that was out to ruin me.
I should have packed up and moved back home the
second I noticed the activity, but in my young mind,
this spirit couldn't hurt me. I first realized something strange
was happening when things would move right after I put
them in their place. Most of the time it would
be keys, or paperwork or important phone numbers, or sometimes
they would be well hidden and not at all where
I left them. None of it made any sense. I
had a friend who was a staunch Catholic, and she
advised me to pray to Saint Anthony to recover my
lost items. I started doing this and it worked because
I would find every item in short order. But the
occurrences started happening more often, and a weird smell was
starting to envelop the condo. It was something between sulfur
and the stench of a dead animal. And then something
started writing things on the carpet. It was a longer
type carpet and it was very thick, so you could
brush the carpet in the opposite direction of which it
was made and you could see what you wrote. The
words that were being written were obscene and nasty and
downright demonic. And I accused our roommate of doing this
as a joke because I never actually saw it being written,
but both my boyfriend and his roommate vehemently denied it.
One day, I had just finished vacuuming the living area
left to go start cleaning our bedroom, and as soon
as I walked in the room, I heard a big
crashing sound, like a big window in the living room
was being broken and crushed. I ran out to see
what had happened, but nothing was awry except that horrid
smell of sulfur and death permeating through the room. I
caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and
I could have sworn I saw someone dressed in black.
I checked our roommate's room, but he wasn't home. Then
I checked everywhere else. Every door was locked and no
one was home besides me. And then right in front
of my eyes, I watched something right hell into the carpet.
It continued writing other horrible words that I'm not comfortable repeating,
mainly unspeakable things that were degrading to women. I called
my Catholic friend, who suggested getting some holy water and
some sage to burn. She also suggested saying the Saint
Michael's prayer while doing the cleansing and whenever something was
happening in the condo. At first, this angered the entity.
I would be getting ready for the day, and while
I was putting on my makeup, the entity would grab
my hair and literally rip some out of my head.
I could sit there looking at the bedroom mirror and
see the entity lift my hair up and then yank
it out violently. Things with my boyfriend were getting worse
by the day too. He was becoming violent and more angry,
and he started abusing drugs and alcohol. It seemed that
the more that I called on Saint Michael and Jesus,
the worst things got. The attacks in the subsequent event
were getting more frequent and worse in nature, and I
finally decided to go home for a little while just
to see if the attacks would stop. When I was
packing my last items into my car, my boyfriend honked
his horn behind me. He wanted to talk to me,
so I ran over to his car and got inside
to discuss some things with him. And when I was
about ready to get into my vehicle, I saw a
man getting to the back seat of my car. My
boyfriend saw him too, and I sat in his car
while he went to check it out. But all he
found were my belongings, without any sign that someone had
been in there besides me. I had some holy water
on me, so I went over to my car and
I started shaking the water into the vehicle and chanting
the Saint Michael's prayer while doing so. And every time
I would sprinkle the holy water into my car, it
would immediately be thrown back into my face. And when
it was thrown back at me. It wasn't cool in
temperature like it was when I sprinkled it into my car.
It was boiling hot and it burned when it hit
my skin. Something told me not to leave that night.
On the six hour drive home, I left my car
packed up, got just what I needed out of it,
and spent the night with my boyfriend. I thought that
I would revisit leaving the next morning. In the daylight,
I woke to being strangled by something that I couldn't see,
and when I tried to get out of bed, I
had to fight to get up. I realized that my
holy water was in the living room, and when I
ran to get it, I was tripped on the way
by what felt like an an invisible leg. And I
eventually got the holy water, and I knew I had
to go to war with this entity. I went back
to the bedroom and started chanting the Saint Michael's prayer
and sprinkling the holy water. And each time I sprinkled it,
the water was thrown back into my face, and then
my hair started to be yanked out of my head. Thankfully,
I had the stubbornness of a twenty one year old girl,
and I chanted with even more conviction, refusing to let
it deter me. Now, I would take breaks from the
prayer and plead with Saint Michael and Jesus to save
me from this demonic entity. I sat in the center
of the bed, cross legged and eyes closed, and continued
to go between chanting the prayer and saying heartfelt prayers
to Saint Michael and Jesus. The sound of breaking glass
jolted my eyes open, and I saw through the blinds
a hazy sunlight coming through. It was not just regular sunlight,
but a beautiful array of colors. Then I saw a
figure form out of the hazy life. It was Saint Michael,
and he looked just like he did and all the
paintings that I had seen of him. He was gorgeous.
He was seven feet tall with glowing skin, and everything
about him flowed with this incandescent light. I've never seen
anything this beautiful night before or after this event. He
had a sword and he looked like he was ready
for battle, and he pushed the sword through the demonic entity,
and I watched it slump into a massive goop and
just disappear right before my eyes. Saint Michael never said
anything to me, but When he looked at me, all
I could feel was this immense love and devotion. Then
he sat down beside me, and I could even feel
the mattress being depressed by his weight. And he sat
there for just a second or two, and then he
literally flew out of the window. It felt like the
entire ordeal only lasted a few minutes, but when I
looked at the clock, it was eleven eleven am. This
whole ordeal took four hours. After that, I felt comfortable
enough to get the heck out of Fair. I never
went back to that place again, and I moved on
from that boyfriend too. I later looked up the address
and found out that a teenage boy had committed suicide
there in nineteen ninety seven. The boy was supposedly into
devil worship. I thought you and your viewers might like
to hear something paranormal for a change. People need to
know that whether or not we can see these things
with our eyes, they exist. I have many more tales
that I will send to you at a later date,
and one is about a dog man in New Mexico,
and the other is about a chupacabra in Central Texas
near Abilene. My daughter, and I love your channel and
I think that you are an ambassador of all things
crypted and paranormal. Her name is Stella and she just
turned ten this year, and it would mean so much
to her for you to wish her a happy birthday. Stella.
And to the woman who wrote this email to me,
Happy birthday, Stella. I don't know when your birthday is.
I've had this story a long time and as you
all know, and I keep saying, after I read these stories,
I'm reaching way back and getting I've got some pretty
good help with editing now and it's making it easy
to send these off and I get them back real quick.
It just makes it easy to read these. So anyway,
thanks to the woman who wrote this. What a scary,
scary story, and happy birthday to Stella. Stella's ten. Heck,
she might be twelve by now, but happy birthday, Stella.
I'm so glad your mom sent me this story. And
hope you're having a good school should be starting right
about now, and I hope it's all started well for you.
It's a happy birthday, Stella. All right, Thanks for the email.
Thanks for listening to this array of different kind of
stories on this podcast. I love the variety of stuff
that I can reach back and get in. Some of
my older emails are all good stories. I kind of
mix it up on these latest podcasts and I'm really
loving doing this. So thank you for watching, and we'll
see you all on the next podcast. Thank you,