Speaker 1: These creepy tales may contain disturbing slash creepy stuff fewer
discretion advised siries. What's your true supernatural slash unexplainable down
my creepy story. When I was a kid, my mom
and grandparents took me to see a play about prisoner
set in an old jail that was now a tourist spot.
To child me, the actors were too realistic and they
started crying and we had to leave. Chatting to my
mum a few years ago and apparently it wasn't a play.
We just went to visit the old empty jail slush lost.
My roommate and I lived in a one hundred plus
year old farmhouse. Many strange things happened there, but there
is one story I tell the most. One day, we
were watching TV in the living room on the main floor,
and suddenly we heard a loud crushed glass breaking and
felt the floor shaken a seiling above us. We both
ran upstairs and could not find one thing out of place.
Slash slash. I don't think it's supernatural, but it was creepy.
My mother died suddenly three years ago, eight days before
the birth of my son. There's a picture on the
wall of my house of her, and he knows it's Grandma.
My dad is still in that house, but we have
never visited, partly because I have a mental hand up
about going back there, and partly because of the logistics
it's an overnight ferry. Dad visits us often and I
will go back there soon. Anyway, my son has never
seen the house, and I've never shown him photos of it.
He hasn't been to the village, the area, or even
the country. I was showing him Google Maps last week,
and the thing you do with your phone or tablet
where if you move the device a field, a few
moves with you. So I'm showing him our house, his
other grandmother's house, his skull, et cetera. And he gets
it and as a play. My dad lives in rural Frants,
so the Google car hasn't done a pass of his
street to my knowledge. I decide to check, and it's
just been done, so I drop the pin and open
it up. The view opens with the house over the street,
so I start to move it in my boy SHOT's
grandma's house. A bit taken aback, I asked, how did
you know that? Because it was Bittereros. So I asked
him to point at the window and say which one
is the kitchen? And he puts his finger on it
straight away. Which room does Dady sleep in? Again, the
finger on it straight away? Which one is Grandma? He
points to it and says it was that one slash slush.
So I went down the hole to use the bathroom
and I could see the glow from the computer screen
dimly lighting up the room. Then it looked like some
one walked in front of it and cast a shadow
in the wall. I jumped and then started laughing. Geez,
he scared me. I look in and there was no
one in the room. I booked it out of there
and avoided that bath room for weeks. Slash slush. I
am an outdoorsman. I'm very experienced in hunting, camping, hiking,
and general survival. I'm very familiar and used to wild life.
And I was charged by what I believe was a
crop to called a dolbment. It charged me and my cousin.
It was not a bear, but I cannot move how
it did, and it was not a normal wolf, as
they can't comfortably run on two legs, whereas what charge
just see natural are doing. I can elaborate further if
you wish. This happened around June or July two thousand seven.
I believe I was around seventeen years old and more
cocky then, but still someone knowledgeable of the outdoors. My
family used to own a cabin in a w Wisconsin.
I basically grew up there. In the summer at the
woods well, but at night it was wise to stay
in the cabin or at least by the bonfire by
the beach because of bearers, wolves and cougars. One of
the creepiest things was if he were having a bonfire,
the tree line was visible from the fire pit and beach,
and at night he always felt like he were being
watched from the tree line. But during the day the
woods always seemed normal, not so creepy. That isn't till
this incident. So this happened somewhere between twelve hundred to
fourteen hundred. Mea and my cousin were having an asp battle.
I was in full woodland comao, he was not. I
retreated on to the ATV trail into the woods for
a tactical advantage, and our battle took us about two
hundred meters into about a third of the way up
the trail. We had enough at this point and were
standing at the edge of a clearing and the trail
talking and he was maybe ten feet from me. When
I decided to mess with him. I shushed him and
say it were being watched. He froze. Then I realized
the woods were dead quiet, and I got spooked and
started scanning the tree line in the other edge of
the clearing from left to right. When I saw it,
its teeth gave it away. It was panting and staring
at my cousin. I don't expect you to believe me,
but what I saw was a wolf as big as
a black bear, at least three hundred pounds, but it
was normal. This wolf was on two legs, crouching next
a tree with its own grasp in the tree, grasping
with a clawed hand. It had reddish brown furr I
told my cousin that we have to go, and next
thing I know, he is sprinting. And I looked back
at Wolfe, who had locked on and sprinted a few
steps on two feet, and then I turned and ran.
When it looked like Wolfy was dropping to all falls,
it charged us and sounded right on our asses barreling
through the brush, but for whatever reason let us go
when we broke out of the tree line and headed
for the cabin. What stuck with me the most was
the sheer size. Wolfy appeared to be nearly seven tall
when upright, and that where it should have had front
paws appeared to have large, cought hands. Now, I'm not
sure how to explain it away. Rationally, I have heard
wolves will occasionally kind of walk upright, but as far
as I know, they can't sprint on two legs, nor
dew wolves get that bake and black bear's more waddle
on tea legs. The closest description is silly or wawell
for dogmen slash slush. My family moved to the standard
up scale suburban home after roughing it for a couple
of years to save up. We also got a deal
on the hum because it was a model hum before
it was ires like at all the fake furniture to
show off the neighborhood homes. Anyways, it hid this loft
area with two stairwells that go up to it, one
in the front and one in the back. He could
pretty much hear everything from this loft since it was
so open. One day, my two best friends, guy and
a girl are hanging out in the loft. We were
in h s and they were horny and always all
over each other, whether I was in the room or not.
We were watching TV and I get up to take
a piss. When I left, they were all up on
each other. When I came back, they were on different
ends of the couch. I just said they had gotten
into a fight. So I asked, what was up. Your
little sister is home, the dude says. My face turned
sheep white. What's wrong, the girl asked. I asked them
what made them think that this d they heard her?
I am sort of freaking out at this point. No
one's here, I say. We checked the house and I
am right. Well, it turns out that before it was
a model home, a family lived there and a little
girl had been playing in the loft but had climbed
in the railing and fell to her death below. My
two best friends swear to this day that they heard
what they thought was my sister a laugh and run
up the stairs, hitting her hands on each step like
she was running up on all fours. I never had
a knee encounters, other than the fact that right next
to where she landed was the house of Central Intercome.
We had an intercom system in every room that you
could play music through or talk to each other. Every
so often at night at the same time, you'd wake
up to the intercombaton being pressed and just the blank
sound of static air was like someone was holding down
the button but no one was speaking. My room was
on the third floor, and I'd have to walk down
to the bottom to the main unit and turn it
off there. I always thought i'd see her slash slash.
I was maybe five years old and we were visiting
my grandparents. I was sleeping in this spare bedroom alone
on this big brass bed. There was a pull out
bed that was usually stored under it, but it was
pulled out and set up for my brother. In the
opposite corner, there was a small closet. In the middle
of the night, I woke up to the sound of
hinges creaking. I thought it might have been the springs
in the pull out bed, but my brother was alcohol
and not moving. I looked over to the closet and
saw it was slowly cracking open. Then the little man
poked his head out. It was a bit too big
for his body, with big eyes. I couldn't see him
clearly because the room was dark, but I could see
his eyes and then they looked right at me. He
then shuffled forward, and I remembered the sound of that shuffling.
He stopped after a first or two, looked at me again,
crouched down, then shuffled forward a few more. When he
was a couple yards from the bed, he dived under
the rollerwy bed. I heard him moving through the metal
and springs, and then felt as he moved under my bed.
Then it was quiet. I couldn't breathe. When I saw
the second little man step out of the closet, he
did the same thing, look at me, move forward, look
at me, dive under the beds. I was frightened and
didn't know if I should try to run or scream.
I ended up screaming. When the third man showed up,
he rushed back into the closet. Before my mother could
come into the room, she turned on the light, checked
the bed in the closet and found nothing. As an adult,
I knew I must have been hallucinating, dreaming while my
eyes were open. It happened a few more times in
my youth, but with different dreams, but this one stuck
with me. Those little men were marching across the room,
looking at me with their big, dark eyes will never
be forgotten. Last year, I was staying in a hotel
with my mom. One of the nights, as I was
laying in bed, I noticed to humans wo wet maybe
two meters away from me. I figured it was just
a shadows, so I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't.
I turned the light on, and obviously it disappeared, but
when I shut off the lights again, it came back.
I tried to convince myself that it was just a shadow,
but trust me when I say there was nothing in
that room that could have made a shadow like that.
I looked around the room several times. It also occurred
to me that the shadow went there the previous nights
and nothing had been moved around. It looked just like
a human silhouette. I never believed in ghosts, but right
then and there, I was terrified. I was too scared
to look at it, so I turned around and eventually
fell asleep. I told my mom about it the next morning,
and she just shrugged it off. She said, I was
just imagining things fair enough that shadow went there. The
next night or the next A few days after we
had gotten back home, my mom was doing something in
the kitchen and I was just sitting there studying without
turning around. My mom said, do you remember the shadow
of a person you saw at the hotel? I said, yeah.
My mom just said I saw it too. My blood
turned to fucking eyes. Mom didn't want to admit that
she also saw it. I thought that she was sleeping
because she didn't want to freak me out. I'm convinced
that of ghost success I saw one that night. My
mom thinks it was the ghost of her best friend,
who had committed to his I just a few days prior.
Ma'am had spent hours earlier that evening writing her a
long letter for some kind of closure. Maybe your best
friend also wanted to say goodbye. When I was about telve,
our family moved into a new house, new to us,
actually quite old. It was in our same village, but
done it differently, and part of it used to be
a bundlow. So my room and my sister's room were
on the ground floor, down a long hallway. All of
the ground floor had walnut flowing, and there was a
potion rug outside the door to my room to avoid
call toss in the morning. Every night, round eleven or so,
I would hear footsteps walking at a fairly slow pace
right down the hole from there and get sweet up
pass our rooms and away down the hall to the
living room. I was always in bed when I heard them,
and so was everyone else. You know how you can
tell her family members by the way the walk up
the stairs or open a specific door. I knew it
wasn't anyone in my family. Plus it was the sound
of outdoor, she's clocking on the wood and everyone in
my family war slippers. Inside the house, I would hear
a footstep start fairly loud on the wooden floor, way
down the hole, come come up past my sister's room,
and then there would be a pause while whatever it
was walked over the rub. You could hear the gap
in the footsteps but three seconds. Then they would start
again on the other side of the rug and fade
out as they walked down the hole away to the
living room. Then they would come back, same footsteps break
across the rock was seem on the other side. I
don't remember ever feeling scared, but I never ever went
out to see what it was. I would fall asleep
to the sound. It would go on for a really
long time. It stopped about three or four weeks after
we moved in, and I never heard it again. I
didn't really think about it much after it stopped, but
I've never forgotten it, and as an adult, it makes
me shiver to remember it. Slash slush. I'm home alone
one day. It wasn't dark or spooky or raining or anything.
It was the middle of the day and they had
just caughten home from work. Now I shipped with the
door open when I'm home alone since we had a
fuck not. I'm doing my business and browsing readitess per tradition.
When I hear my laundry room door open and slam
closed art It's only two PM and my parents don't
get home from work until at least for my sister
was at skill, but maybe she left early. I yell
hello and reach it over and close the door so
that whoever his home doesn't have to see me shoitting.
I hear some footste's walk into the living room, then
does stop. I yell again, but no response. My dad
listens to audiobocus a lot on his phone, so I
figured he walked in with Ibbertson and didn't hear me.
I finished my business up and walk out to see
who was home, and no one was there. I kept
yelling around the house, but there was no answer. I
walked aside and it was just my car in the driveway.
I started to panicle little bit, since my laundry room
door was quite heavy and is very loud when it closes,
so there was no way I misheard something. I searched
a whole house, looked outside on the patio, side, yard,
et cetera. Nothing, no one was there. I then got
the sieged feeling of fear and bolted back inside and
just sat and the living room catch waiting for something
to happen. Nothing happened, no nises, no sounds, no doors opening, nothing.
I eventually got up and went back to my room
and never heard anything again. It would have scared the
shit out of me and I'd not taken care of
the problem before. And to be honest, I have tons
of these and continue to get more stores pretty much
wherever I go, but I have two that stand out.
My siblings and I were on our catch watching TV
while our parents were working. Pretty much what happened there
was a lad slam and when we looked over, all
the hallway doors were slamming shut manmselves one by one
leading up to the room where we were. We would
run outside and back inside to only have the doors
open by themselves and slum backshot three more times. Probably
my elest one I know is that when I was little,
I had a room upstairs and would wake up to
the lights flickering on and off, only to look over
at the light switch and have no one be there
and go back to sleep. Well, one night, I was
confident to catch my siblings messing with me and race
down there to see the light switch moving by itself
and stop around the time I got there. As I
started to see where they when I saw a black
mass move across the room and knock at the door,
and it was like twelve am. I went to open
the door, not really thinking since I was little, I
have my hand on the door and decided to look
at the window first, only to see a top pitch
black figure standing there. It was nighttime and this looked
like a void. I ran upstairs and legit was stay
in my room when the lights would flicker. Over the years,
I would see more and continued to see more and
shadow people as they are called a normal occurrence for
me slash sash. We borrowed a van and loaded everything
up for the last trip. Just before we left, they
checked my watch and called my GF that we would
be hitting the road scene. My brother checked a kitchen clock,
but only told me later he did we set out
book it and do more than eighty km slash h
because of the load. When we took the off ramp
of my Niwe City, my brother told me he couldn't
remember the trip. When I thought about it, neither could I.
We both thought we were tired and thought nothing of it. However,
when we arrived at my new house, my GF fast
if I broke the speed limit because we were almost
an ira ally. When retracing the route, my brother would
and above the greed that we can remember passing a
certain gas station and nothing thereafter until the off ramp.
To this day, we have no clue what happened during
that I were missing, or how we could have traveled
that fast, not with any car Ovan at least now
at the beginning I wrote, we both independently checked for time.
This is important for us because one time source could
have been one but not both. Also, I called before
we left, which limits the time we could use to travel.
Since then, we have never experienced any weirdness like it
or otherwise. I don't have any word memories or dreams,
no pieces of metal loss under my skin, et cetera.
Just an Irai lost its last slush. When I was
in high skill, my uncle would throw me a couple
bucks to help babysit his kids with my aunt. They
lived in a two story house where the water the
kids were above three and six, respectively. One day I
was sitting in there den on my friend when I
started to hear a baby crying. Thinking it was a
three year old, I had it to the bottom of
the stairs to check and see if my aunt was
up there dealing with it if. I called for her
a couple times with no response, the baby kept crying.
I called for her one more time, and when I
got no response, I started walking up the stairs. Then
I heard my cousins and an playing outside. All the
hairs on my body stood up and I literally felt
a children down my spine. I quietly turned around walked
down the stairs, got in my carn and drove away.
The baby was still crying when I closed the door
behind me. A few years later, I was drunk at
a family party and told my uncle the store, and
he told me that he and his wife used to
hear the baby too, and apparently the previous owners of
the kid die of sits in the room upstairs. He's
uber Catholic and had mass said for the baby. He
said after that it never happened again. Still gives me
the woollies when I talk about it, though, slasslot alone
during the date. It's a small house. Several minutes walked
to the closest neighbor and more less surrounded by woods.
I'd heard something coming down the driveway, like tires crunching
in the gravel, but much slower. Went out in the
potch to investigate and saw an old fashion covered wagon
being pulled down the driveway. For some reason, this filled
me with dread, and I ran back inside to lock
all the doors. Once that was done, I walked down
the staircase into the basement, where I knew I could
see him from the window, bild into the door. The
wagon stopped moving once I was watching, and the man
climbed down from the seat and stood in front of it.
He was dressed in a black suit with the black
top hat, and he was looking right at me through
the window glass. Once he was sure that I saw him,
he walked to the back of the wagon and pulled
off the cupboard. There were people hanging from the supports
at the top of the wagon, feet dangling robe around
the next They looked dead, but the man in the
top had did something in their heads started inflating. It
got to the point where it looked almost cartoonish. I
was bowlsing out, red faces worked. He kept looking at
me while he did it, and I just knew he
was going to do the same thing to me. Woke
up absolutely terrified, and to make things a thousand times worse,
the power was out, meaning it took me a ridiculous
amount of time to make my way into my parents'
room and camp out on their floor. Here's a creepy bit.
I never told anyone about this particular dream because it
was so fucking weird. Maybe two years ago, my family
and I got into conversation about the freakist dreams we'd had.
I figure, what the hell it's been ten years, I
can probably bring it up with that type of ventilating.
So I start telling the story, leaving out a lot
of details for brevity, sick and when I get to
the part about the wagon coming down the driveway, my
younger sister gets the weirdest look on her face and says,
was the man wearing a top hat? We quissed each other,
and we remembered most of the details in the same way.
I can't quite figure out how we both had the
same dream, though, I think I like the explanation might
be that one of us told the other about the
dream and then forgot, then the other party just constructed
their own memory of it. But I distinctly remember not
telling anyone about it because I thought it was too
weird toshere. I still get freaked out when I think
about it, and to date, that's probably the strangest dream
I've had. Slaslot all Right, So I grew up in
a really small town, and recently it's gotten some fame
as being haunted. One of those Discovery ghost shows filmed
an episode here, so people got interested. Now before my
town gained a reputation for having ghosts, One night, my
mom and I were taking a stroll down the main
street at night, which we do a lot in the summer.
I was about fourteen at the time. As we were looking,
she stops in front of a furniture store. This in
a pretty dan old building. Actually, most of main street
is as closed. We look through the windows, just seeing
the merchandise they have talking. Then I turned to my
mom and tell her we need to leave now. She
asks why I say we need to go, she protests again,
since she is enjoying herself. I then tell her that
there was something bad in the store. It was a
bad place and we needed to go, so we left.
The thing is, I don't remember having the conversation that all.
I don't remember looking in the furniture store. I do
remember going on walks with my mom plenty of times,
but I don't ever remember being creeped out on any
of them. The only reason I know this even happened
was because my mom told me this story years later,
asking if I remember doing that. So big deal, right,
fourteen year olds say done stuff all the time. But
here is why it bothers me. My mom is friends
with one of the ladies who works for my town.
I don't know what the position is called. Basically, she
organizes town activities and helps out with my town's historical stuff. Anyways, apparently,
for whatever reason, she gave it her of the town
to a film crew that had a psychic with them. Now,
I don't know about yold, but I think the whole
psychic message chech is bs. But apparently, once they got
to the furniture store, the psycha refused to go inside.
There was a lot of evil that wanted to harm
people in there, so they moved onto other buildings. So yet,
when my mom's friend told her that story my mom
told about the time when I was fourteen, they and
pretty much most people in my town believed that the
furniture store, along with a lot of other buildings, are haunted.
But yet, sorry, if that wasn't scary enough, it's the
only thing to happen to me that truly and settles
meat slash slash. My aunt's house is haunted. She moved
though when my cousin was about to She knew it
was haunted instantly, but stayed because the ghosts were not malicious.
My cousin now about thirty crew up there, knowing it
was haunted, as well as my two younger cousins. They
talked about it so Nan stopped like it was just
part of the daily routine. I'm way into speaking stuff.
So here in this time and again at family functions,
I asked to spend the night specifically to listen for
the ghosts. Here is exactly what happened at night that
was strange. My cousin, my aunt, and my aunt's friend
are watching Carrie. It's winter time, and all week there
fireplace was not working. My cousin says out loud, when
is this movie going to get scary? Just then the
glass patio door in the kitchen opens. After the movie,
we go to the hot tub because we were cold
after a while, and there we come back inside and
the fireplace's blasting full heat out of it. My aunt
last offers the ghost messing with us. They play pranks
like this a lot, apparently, after everyone is asleep, I'm
on couch and my cousin is on floor next to me.
I hear from the basement footsteps coming up the stairs.
The basement door is visible from where I am laying.
I hear the steps come all the way up the
stairs and stop on the top I'm terrified and expect
someone to come out the door, but nothing. A moment
passes and the steps go back downstairs. This starts to
repeat up and down the stairs. I wake up my
cousin terrified. I say, listen, listen, it's slash Crystal cleared,
a person walking up and down the stairs right there.
She looks at me and is like, dude, that happens
every night. Go back to sleep. It went on for
about thirty minutes, up and down the stairs. I was mortified.
I have more stairs from my aunt, but that was
one of the experiences I had. I have also on
other occasions that have seen lights turn on and they
often have more footsteps. She thinks its children. They live
across the street from a skill that also people report
strange activities slassush. I was invited to a sleep over
her at my friend's house when I was nine or
tent was in a crommy, crime ridden part of town,
and I was already apprehensive about the whole. Then turns
out my friend planned for us to sleep in tents
outside in the backyard. We go to sleep and I
unexpectedly wake up in the middle of the night. All
my friends are gone from the tent, freezing cold and
absolutely terrified. I look around the yard and eventually end
to the house. None of the daughs are locked, and
for the life of me, I can't find a living soul.
I'm practically all or scared shitless in my pajamas. I
find a phone and call my mom. About fifteen minutes later,
she picks me up and takes me home. Later, I
found out that my friends have moved to a different
tend in the yard without telling me. In my panic
during the night, I thought they had all disappeared. Not
really supernatural, but in the moment, it was the most horrifying,
inexplicable thing I ever had the displeasure to experience in
my childhood. Slaslush. Growing up, my grandparents had the spake
Creed German shepherd col Maxed. He was a super sweet dog,
but my grandparents kept him chained up in the yard
and I can't recall anyone ever interacting with him except
us kids. When we stayed at our grandparents, I remember
bringing left of us to Max and leaving them in
his ball. My sister and cousins remember this as well. Eventually,
my family moved a cappele Eyes from my grandparents, and
we saw less and less of maxed. He was an
old dog to begin with, but I recall he started
developing tumors around his neck. Then one day he was gone.
I brought up Max to my dad years later, as
a teenager, wondering what exactly he died of. We had
adopt that had died recently, and his tumors reminded me
of the one Max had. My dad seemed real confused
that I knew who Max was. He said Max had
tired of cancer, but he was my due for a dog,
which I was confused by since he mentioned the Dodd
name Boots when he was a kid. He said the
butt was the dog his parents bought to replace Max,
who died when he was nine. I was sure he
had gotten mixed up or misremembered the dog. Here's where
the story gets word. My cousins and my sister all
remember this dog. I could swear he was dead by then,
but even my youngest cousins remember Max. Tears. Where it
gets fucking insane. Where Max was chained up was a
concrete platform. When we thought he died, my grandparents put
all shed there, further lending to the confusion. There are
pictures of me and my cousins near my age and
the oldest grandchild, but my youngest cousins are twelve years younger,
playing with the shed in the background. The fact that
my cousins remember the dog makes no sense on the
bassis alone. It's not the insane part about the shed though.
When I was a teenager, probably eighteen on nineteen, I
helped my dad and my uncle's tear down the shed
and the concrete platform. Right on the edge was a
child's handprint with my dad's name written underneath, and a
bake German shepherd sized puprint underneath the poprint in the
same handwriting was the Nie Max. To this day, nine
of us know why all of us remember this dog.
I was born in the late eighties. This dog died
in nineteen sixty ninth las last the year started high skill.
My parents moved us into a new house and the
place was crazy haunted. I have been suffering from insomnia
since I was above fourteen, and often now I would
be up in the middle of the night and here
someone running up and down the hallway. Occasionally the running
would be accompanied by giggling, and the sounds of hands
hitting the hallway walls. If I was at home alone cleaning,
I would frequently hear what sounded like a small child.
It should be noted I did to five siblings, but
on these occasions I would be home alone, gibling or
talking faintly nearby. My parents' bed room was always cold,
and there would be signs of someone typing on the
computer keyboard when no one was nearby it. Several times
I would come into my room, and since I was
the first one home from skill, I knew my siblings
hadn't been in there, and my mom never went in
there except to try to read my journal and find
my stuff. Moved around and played with as in a
porcelain doll my grandmother gave me. You would be in
some random spot in the room and there would be
little doll footprints in the carpet, like someone had been
playing with the dam thin. I did some digging. Lader
little girl was once murdered in the land that the
home stood on before there was a home there. I
have a ton of stories about the dumb house, if
anyone wants to hear them. Slash slash. I grew up
in the pine barrens. I love living in the woods
and South Jersey is just about no predators, so I
never felt in safe walking around the neighborhood a two
am or so. Well, one night when I was nineteen,
ala my friend's place about two third minutes three thirty am,
walking home, and I hear the most and oddly sound
I have ever heard in their life. In the split
second your mind tries to rationalize. First I thought it
was a cat being run over. Then by six seconds
although it was a woman screaming that it sounded like
a raw slush shriek. This is all in the second
and a half. It takes me to take in the
whole sound. Now, let me be clear, I have loved
in those words all my life. I know what foxes sound,
what's gung's fighting sound like? It was like nothing I
have ever heard. I have never felt primal feel like
I did after hearing the sound. I ran harder and
faster than I ever had in my life. When I
got to the front door, I was already mentally prepared
to smash the small glass pane in order to open
the door if my sister had locked it. She didn't,
and there was nothing interesting after the point. A few
other weird things happened around the same time spam, but
nothing like that slash sash. I lost a lot of
time once. It's one of a few very creepy things
to happen to me, But this one really got to
me still does. It only happened a few months ago.
I went for a wap with my mother on a
local path around the fairly large hill, a regular pastime
of iOS. We walked the two miles from the cart
to the hill before beginning. I and to reach the loop,
which is only about half a mile and cuckle in
the peak. Were from the area and have always known
that people have become wildly lost up here, even though
the path is the only one around the hill. That's
sort of very specific knowledge. If you go ten miles away,
no one will know about it. We had been dozens
of times before, with the doves usually, but today it
was just my mom and I. We had never been
lost before, so we've been walking for I don't know
how long when I noticed something out The sun was
in the same place to us as it had been
for however long we've been walking on a circular path.
It should have appeared to move as we changed direction.
We should also have been reaching a point where you
headed down the hill, but our path was completely level.
I was thought to use the sun and other natural
signs to navigate, as I spend a lot of time
just my wandering, whether on houseback or on foot. I
realized that I had no recollection of that part of
the path and had been walking along in silence far Well,
here's the word bit ut came my phone and assured
me the time fourteen thirty seven. I had absolutely no signal,
even though it's usually spot on up there. We had
set off at eleven in the morning, and all the
hairs on my body stood up. This what a short walk,
and I owned half ut most from leaving the car
to getting back to it. The sun should have been
above us, but it was set off at where I
would have set three o'clock for the time of year.
I remember the time because when I turned to ask
my mum what time she had, she looked straight through
me like it wasn't it, and remained like that for
a whole three minutes. She was just staring enough to
the space where I had been to her left that
fourteen forty She suddenly came to life. I didn't move away,
too nervous to remain under her gaze like that. After
about a minute of saying, Mum unaging her rigid shoulder
in a building child like panic. I was twenty. I
was sat down and looked just off the path, getting
pretty bloody freaked out. Mum danced around and said, in
a hollow, weird voice. I think the fares might have asked,
we need to keep walking. I scrambled up with fell
and to match her determined stride on this unfamiliar path.
Why ferris, mom? Why say that? I was raised to
see them as little cute, to see people with wings.
You see to me they are strayed out of nightmares,
because my mother's upbringing said that's what they are. Have
to confuse and trick. What time does your watch? Say mom?
She always wears a battery operated analog watch, and she
lifted her wrists corder to three. She put her wrist
down and lifted it again to check. That's not right,
is it? I just shook my head, all right, keep walking,
So we did. We trudged on through this and familiar
wooding for what I would have said, felt like at
must have an hour. It never turned a corner or
changed eelevasion. I knew we were in bothered when my Stellwart,
never frightened of anything other, began to get nervous. So
in response to her nerves, she becomes pissed off. She
steeled herself, lifted this proud all seeing Jetsy as to
the creepy atmosphere, and spoke as she would to a
looking person who's coming with us? Put us back. There
was what I can only describe as a burst of
deep laughter from the path behind us, and we spun
around to face it. We were at the top of
the hill that lead to the gate out of there.
It said the fork where you can go left or right,
neither of which I remember choosing, even though we always
make a discussion of it. We made out way down
the slope and out of the wits as calmly as possible,
and got back to the car, which was parked next
to an ancient church and cemetery. The time in the
car seventeen twelve. We should have got back to the
car no later and maybe caught it to one if
the walk had can normally, or just after four when
our watch and phone said we were approaching free we
lost nearly five alos. I've had a lot of creepy
things happen to me, but this is about one of
the worst. I wasn't alone, it was the middle of
the day on a usually familiar path. Where did the
zios go? Where was that path? So many unanswerable questions.
I even went up her alone once to see if
I could experience it again, but nothing happened. Slash slash
growing at our house was very haunted, and even though
it's not as active today, I still get creeps sometimes
when I go home to visit. A few years before
I was born, my great grandmother died in what would
become my bedroom hose sitting slush TV room, and my
parents and I both remember walking into the room and
very clearly smelling rose scented perfume, like somebody a dumped
bottle of it in the carpet. According to my parents,
it was the same kind she wore almost daily up
until she died. I've seen apparitions in that house as
a child slash teenager. My grandfather died when my mom
was three, so I'd never met the man, but I
remember being in the kitchen one day and seeing a
man in a brand suit with a skinny black tie
stand in the entryway and look at me. Then Vanish
I recognized him immediately from family photos. It was my grandfather.
I've seen blue light slash obs during the day in
different rooms, felt cold spots, been touched by invisible hands,
hard footsteps when I was home alone, and even at
draw slash cups opened spontaneously in front of me. Nothing
was every scary puss, but a lot happened that was
certainly unnerving. Over the years, I've lived in two houses
that were almost certainly haunted. Incidant that scared me. The
most happened in the house I lived in just a
few years ago. I had grown up in a house
that was renowned for activity, and the thought of ghosts
doesn't really scare me. After all, they are only people
right to this house at a history of strange occurrences,
lights that turned off and unboud themselves, footsteps and voices
that couldn't be explained, extremely rural and no neighbors clos
buying sounds from the basement, and most disconcertainly, the sensation
of being poked, either during the night while sleeping or
whenever you were in the basement. But all of that
seemed benign, so whatever I was interested in communicating with
whatever was there, and had gathered a couple of interesting
EVP I really wanted to set up a video camera,
but didn't have the money to invest. Instead, I got
a digital voice recorder and reasoned that I would record
the activity on it until I could afford what I wanted.
I decided to set it up to record overnight. Now,
there are two things that are important to the story.
Bear with me. This is important to the first is
that this house was built as a one room house
originally over the year as they added a kitchen, bedroom
and full bathroom, laundry room, and then in addition containing
a second bedroom half bath in new kitchen, the old
kitchen became a formal dining room. The point being that
the house was built up hazardly and sound does not
carry from one end to the other. The second point
is that I have an alarm clock with a build
and spars sound machine that I used on the rain feature,
and since I'm a little hard of hearing, the rain
is always cramped up to maximum volume. So I tucked
my elderly dog into a kernel at night and set
up the recorder just between the dining room and laundry room,
I see as far across the house from our bedroom
as possible. I took the two younger dobs and cat
into the bedroom with my husband and I, and we
went to bed. The next day, I began to listen
to every minute of the recording, hoping there would be
some form of communication. It took a couple of days.
The recording starts with lout cluttering as I place it
on the table. Then I can be heard walking away
and from the laundry room, telling my dog good night,
butnit her. Then I pass by again and can be
heard moving away. My husband and I can be heard,
but not well enough to tell what we're saying, talking
for a couple of minutes, then the sound of the
rain machine, sounding like a waterfall. After a few seconds,
the sound becomes a muted, roaring sound as we shut
our bedroom door. The time stamp showed around ten fifteen
p m. And then there is nothing but the muted
sound of the rain until about two A and then
you hear the sounds of the dog nails clicking on
the hard four of her kennel's sounds like a scratching
against the floor. Whimpering, panting, more clicking. This goes on
for about five minutes. Then her whimpering grows more distressed.
Her panting becomes panicked, as if she is hayperventilating. Then
she stops. It's quiet for a moment, then a small bark.
It's a sound I recognize because she does it every
morning as I walk through the kitchen to make the coffee.
It's her, hey, r up, let me out bark. I
check the time stamp two eighteen am. And then I
hear it in a stage whisper frighteningly closed to the record,
Benita the dog Yopsen begins to scream and almost drowns
out the giggle. The giggle is the same voice that
whispered my dog's name my voice. I'm waiting for husband
when he gets home. I played a recording for him.
He shrugs. So you fussed at the dog. I didn't
get up that night, Okay, well you know you sleep ork,
That's all it was. I shook my head. No, listen
to it from the beginning. The bedroom door never opens.
My husband took the recorder down into the basement. I
assumed that he listened to the whole thing. From the beginning,
there was more after the first whisper, the dog's name
as whisper shouted several more times. Each time the dog
would panic in the voice would giggle. After about twenty minutes,
it stopped, and the dog eventually quieted, and I assume
went back to sleep. I listened to the table all
the way through, just to be sure, and no time
can you hear a change in the muted sound of
the rain machine until we get up at six a m.
Which means that our bedroom door never opened, which means
that whatever was on the recording was not me, but
was pretending to be. I got rid of the recorder.
I didn't want to ever hear it again. It scared
me worse than anything else hid at the point, I
never tried to record anything else in it has I
pretended that it never happened, and I never heard anything else.
It sounded like me slaslash. When I was little, round
three years old, I would have dreams of another little
girl to live on my bookshelf. She had short hair
pulled aside with the porette. She wore a simple dress
and shoes with buckles on them. She always appeared as
a yellow translucent person. We were friends, and I would
sit on the floor and she would sit on the
top of the bookshelf and look done at me. We
always had fun, but when she got mad she cooked
at me. That would tickle, Like being tickled badly by
a friend whom you wanted to stop. I would yell
at her and run away. Fast forward twenty years while
on vacation with my parents, we were talking about old
dreams and memories. When the tickle girl was brought up.
I reminisce about the dreams with her, and my parents'
faces went funny. When I asked what was wrong, they said, honey,
those weren't dreams. He used to sit and talk to
Buksheff all the time. We would hear you laughing in
the other room. Other times we would hear you get
so mad that you would yell, but you were the
only one in the room. Gives me chills to this day.
Slas slush. When I was about seven or eight, I
used to have sleep over at my grandma's a lot.
My aunties are only a few years old than me,
sowed it worked out great anyway. One of the times
I was in bed, and it was about three in
the morning and both my aunties were asleep, so I
rolled over to look at their toy horses, and I
swear to God, they were moving. I could see their
black silhouette galloping across the desk. So, doing the logical thing,
I went back to sleep, ignoring thinking it was my imagination.
Then about a year ago, my aunt described the exact
same thing happened to her. Turns out many people have
had weird experiences with this house. Examples include an x
of my uncle seeing a strange man in the corner
of the room and at the bottom of the stairs,
TV randomly turning on and off, things being moved. The
warder door would get randomly stopped to a point where
a full grown man could and open it, and then
swing open for no reason. New bubs randomly bursting that
is likely an electrical issue, shadows in the room when
curtains are closed and no one is making them. Also,
random banging and footsteps is a common noise in the house,
even if no one is upstairs. Not next door is.
She is a frail old woman who can barely get
up the stairs in the footsteps are like heavy man's footsteps, slash, slush.
My dad and by extension, our family was tormented by
gost slash, demon slash, whatever you want to call it. First,
a little back story story. I was young at the
time and remember very little of the actual super natural stuff,
but my dad has recounted the events of it to me.
Before it started, when my dad was trying to get
his life together. My dad had done a lot of
things in his past drug wise, and had been around
about crowd, but he had left them and wanted to
be good dad to his kids. He didn't quit cold turkey,
so he still drank and was usually out of the
house drinking. On one occasion, he was out drinking and
he tells me that he vividly remembers seeing a black
smoke come out of his can, slowly rose until it
had taken a devilish form, and had cackled and laugh
saying that he was going to die. When my dad
dropped thek and the apparition disappeared, he was terrified and
decided to go home, thinking he was drunk. This wouldn't
be the last time something like this would happen. However,
thusforward some time later, I don't remember how much time
he told me have passed. My dad was watching over
me and my brothers one night while my mom was
away on some errand at that point, my dad drunk less.
He was working more on We had a relatively okay life.
My dad was making sure that me and my brothers
were taking our baths before getting ready for bed. I
could do this myself, so my dad focused more on
my brothers. I remember watching TV when my dad came
running through the life moving room in boxes and a
white shirt. I'm running outside. What happened was that my
dad was in my brother's bedroom and had just finished
drying them off when the room had started to go black.
He saw smoke filled the room that eventually turned into
black nothingness. He felt weird and noticed that the skin
on his arms began to move. He looked at his
arms and it looked like there was something under his skin,
moving and crawling in every direction. Then he heard a
voice that started out as a whisper that told him
in a taunting slash, menacing for scratch your arms. He
then fell to force grab him from behind, making it
unable for him to run. Two to him. Having hung
out with the tough crowd, he began to coss at
it and call whatever it was a coward, eventually breaking
free and proceeding to run outside and get the neighbor
to help him. Only after escaping did he realize the
implications of what had happened and the fact that we
were still inside. At that time, my mom was back
from her errand and they both went and to find
a soquet in the room. Back to normal. Over the
course of months, the dark smoke would continue to creep
up on my dad wherever and whenever it could. It
was a stressful time for us. I personally only witnessed
the odd side effects of what my dad was going through,
but it all stopped when we looked for help. My
dad has more things he experienced as a kid, and
there's a bit more to the story, but they are
just details. And this is the mean thing that I
always remember. I live in Maine, What does this mean?
It's very common to see lobs to men and very
rare to see anybody on your property. Also call plus now. Anyway,
I was over at a friend's house participating in a party,
and a bunch of us guys were going to sleep over.
I know, unimaginable, right, sounds like the plot to a
cheap horror movie. We had just gone to bed at
three thirty in the morning on his pull up couch
in the living room. I had just started going to
sleep when I noticed a figure standing on the other
side of the door, standing on the porch. I think
nothing of it, probably a weird shadow from the trees.
Of course, there is a winter storm going on outside,
so the wind is blowing hard. That's when I noticed
that this particular shadow isn't moving with the tree shadow.
It's still standing in the door, staring through the window
at us. This is when I call it up to
the others, who were kind of not really asleep. We
are so freak at that when grabs a be becone.
The other grabs a baseball bat and a grab a
fucking hand held spot light. There was four of us,
but the host had fallen asleep. I shined the spotlight
through the door and there is nothing there. We once
again reached the conclusion that it could be a weird shadow.
That is when we start to notice the little details.
Staring at this figure, they looked like they had just
come off a lobster, but in a heavy rainstorm. They
had the lobs to hat and the weird little way
the jacket felt told us that it was someone dress
up like a lobsterman, like I said earlier, extremely common.
The part that was freaky was the way the hat
kind of sag down around the head, almost unnaturally mean
when I say that a hat is over when it
SAgs like that. At this point, we're thinking it's Sunday
playing a prank on us. So, being the main boys
we were, we decided to beat the ever living shit
out of this person. I shine the light to blind
them as the other too advance. They reached a door
and realized there isn't anyone around the door, so we
once again conclude that it was a shadow from a tree.
They decide to go back to bed. I'm not entirely
convinced and watch that damn thing until five a m.
When it just furnishes into thin air. After the light
came up. My foolish is thinking that I'm safe and
I fall asleep. I wake up to you and a
half hours later to see the host mother struggling with
the trash. Being a good kid I was, I offered
to take it out for her because no one was up.
As I opened the door to go outside. That is
when I see footprints in the snow facing the door.
I could see the footprints start at the edge of
the porch, up the stairs and stand right at the door.
The footprints then look kind of like the person was
pivoting on their right foot to get behind a water escape,
being seen a couple of times. They then lead up
to the other edge of the porch with about a
fifteen foot drop and disappear. There is nothing on the
other side of the edge, and nothing in the couple
feet of snow below. And while yes, I did at
first think snowver of Scott caught on ice to make
the footprints, I then realized that there were clear boot
prints with tread and all. The scary part is that
the tread matches rain boots which go with a hat
and jacket. This was one of my most fearful moments ever.
It still makes me shiver just typing about it. The
worst part about this story is people don't really believe me.
But when you live in Maine, weird haunty stuff happens
all the time. I live in a town where the
founder was cursed by a witch. Duff are forever dancing
on his gray and taps thinks there are good in
the fort across the river. Supernatural stuff is kind of normal.
Would this freaked me out? When I was little, I
used to exceedingly paranoid, to the point where I would
bathe with the door open. I personally blame it on
my brother, who loved to freak me out. He would
constantly bullshit ten year old me with stores about dreaming
of people at the window looking in. I know now
that most of this was fake, but at the time
I did, I was bathing with the door open, per usual,
soaking up the warmth around me and enjoying myself. What
happened next, I don't expect the majority of you to
believe maybe I was getting tired of something. But as
I looked out into the hallway that my bathroom lead
out into a shit, ye not. I saw grace and
white figure hobble pass the door. Naturally. I started trying,
and when my parents called up to see what was wrong,
I told them what happened and that I was leaving
until one of them got me. Cut to five years later,
I'm living a normal life. Nothing weird has happened since then,
save for the onset of some very mild clinical depression.
I'm staying at my friends Summahum in Palm Springs for
a night. I dozed a surprisingly quick for sleeping on
a fruit on and that's when I have that dream.
I wake up in my own bed at home, except
everything is off. The only way I can describe it
is the dark blue light filling the room, having its
own viscosity. It's like it was coating the room as
a post to filly it. Then things get weird. I
see from the whole way that my room is connected.
A grayish figure hobble into my room. Lanky or gangly
doesn't even begin to describe this thing. It looked like
someone with the build of a basketball player had been
starved to death, brought back and starved again. I couldn't
see its face from where I was, and frankly I
didn't want to. It waddled its way over to my bookshelf,
opposite of where I was facing, and just sorta crawled
up it and gone there. It looked down at me
and asked me, with a voice that sounded more like
it was coming from across a street then across a room,
what are you doing? The voice was concerned, and at
the time I didn't think about responding. I'm used to
just view my dreams as opposed to taking part in them.
For some reason, I didn't feel scared, and it proceeded
to tell me its job was to watch me. I
opened my eyes and saw it was about four a m.
I was relieved to be back in my friend's bed
and clung to the pillar because it was nice to
feel somethings off in my arms. After that, only now
have I connected the possibility that the thing was the
same as the one I saw when I was little.
It doesn't end there. I'm not a very superstitious person,
so I'm sure you all can understand how confused and
worried I was by this. I had a chat with
one of my friends who was more educated and nickulled
about it, and they couldn't give me an answer, but
did offer to perform a banishment ritual, which I politely refused.
A few days later, I was drifting off to sleep
when I heard what I can only describe as either
trilling or really weird laughter think turkey noises. I immediately
recognized the far off voice, but again did nothing. I
felt myself being grabbed by the upper arms and lifted
up but being dropped onto my bed. I then felt
it happen again, but this time I was dropped on
to the floor. I assumed I was dreaming and went
back to sleep. I woke up the next morning next
to my bed in the hardwood. I hadn't sleep walked
in about three years, but assumed it was that. I
went into the restroom to freshen up for the day
and found red marks around my shoulder areas where I
remembered being picked up by I don't claim this story
to be one hundred percent proof. Costs real all. This
could easily be me just having some strange dreams, but
they didn't it any less scary to go through slash slush.
I work at a hotel, and while I've seen a
lot of weird, creepy stuff here, the first thing I
saw will always stick with me. It was three thirty
a m. Being the night auditor, part of my duties
is setting up the coffee bar for early departures, so
that the days started on the right foot. The coffee
bar is to the right of the desk, and about
fifty feet from the coffee bar is the breakfast buffet
and the kitchen it's so early that neither of these
a staff right now, and it's totally dark over there.
First thing I tend to do is go in the
cabinet's under the breakfast buffet to get the tea box
for the coffee bar. The buffet directly faces the kitchen,
so the kitchen stuff can stalk it faster and Greek guests.
So there I am checking these cabinets when I noticed
something out of the corner of my eye. I look
up into the kitchen and I stop in my tracks.
There's someone back there in the dark watching me. He's
got to be six and a half feet tall, wearing
a heavy olive coat. His torso is dimly lit in
the doorway of the employee hallway. He's staring at me
as I'm staring at him, and then he lifted both
his legs at the knees and floated out the door.
It didn't click that I could be looking at a ghost.
I took off to run to search the employee areas
for this mischievous guest. I've dealt with a lot of
shit like this, and I'm not going to tolerate it
to night. I'm going to find this fucker and boot
his ass to the cobe, except I never find anything,
no one, nothing. It takes me several long minutes to
admit that it could be a ghost. When it finally
clicked with me, I realized how many other weird things
I've seen and heard here. Disembodied voices, slamming on the
back door when no one's there, footsteps on the fifth floor.
Since then, I've also seen two other ghosts rite here
in the lobby. And what I've found is that it
never feels scary at the time to a brain just
refuses to accept that it could be a ghost. It
must be a guest who couldn't sleep. Slass lost. Back
in about two thousand and two, I was about twenty one.
I was in the Marines and Station in North Carolina.
We lived in two man barracks rooms kind of light
college dorms. My roommate left for the weekend to visit
his dad in South Carolina. Now that I grew up
a huge fan of Star Wars and Star Trek, I
had also seen clothes encounters of the third kind, fire
in the sky communion, so as a kid, I was
not so much afraid of ghosts or vampires or whatever else.
It was aliens. My friend leaves Friday afternoon. I try
to go to bed Friday night. As I'm laying there
by myself, I swear I hear what sounds like a
wad Dailian morse cote I'm shaking. Some time goes by.
I get up, turn on a light. Nothing. I grab
a flashlight, try to go back to bed. After a while,
I hear what sounds like some sort of machine starting up,
then spinning faster than slower. I get up, look around again. Nothing.
I tell myself there's nothing there. Try to go back
to sleep. Then I hear what sounds like a conversation
between two aliens taking place just a few feet away.
I freeze. I tense up every muscle in my body
and try to stay as still as possible. And that's
how I stay until the sun comes up. The next morning,
I find a few of my friends and ask them
if they heard or saw anything crazy last night. No
one describes anything like what I experienced. I managed to
sleep a little during the day, but dreaded having to
go through the same thing again. I go to bed,
can't sleep at all, and it starts again. I hear
like a weird early morse code. I hear worrying, not
something mechanical like a drill. I hear cattual alien conversation.
I hear something that sounds like high pitched light zibbers.
Then I hear it all again, unjust frozen, wide awake
under my covers, convinced I'm about to be abducted. Until
the sun comes up again and I look around, don't
see anything, but get up a few hours later my
room it gets back and tells me I look like shit.
I tell him I feel like shit. Then I decide
I don't give a shit. How crazy a sound I'm
gonna tell him about the last two nights. He sits
and listens and actually doesn't treat me like I'm crazy.
As I'm wrapping up the story, he unlocks his wall
lock af his TV and Xbox are armed. He must
have just left it on after playing Halo or something
right before he left. Then it happens the sounds I
heard at night start coming out of his TV. Well,
it turns out that if you leave an original Xbox on,
it plays a weird white noise scrinciver, and that's what
I was hearing. I did feel relieved that I was
actually hearing something and not just crazy. One evening, around
eleven PM, I was playing my bass in my living
room with all of the lights on. Then it felt
like gravity weakened, similar to the feeling when you're about
to descend on a big hill from a roller coaster.
I looked up from my instrument and saw this seven
foot tall oval shape rip a mass which it was
blacker than black. The best way I can describe it
is like the absence of lives. I was looking directly
at it, and then it slowly began to move across
the room and through the wall. I turned around and
saw a white ball about the size of a golf
ball hovering at the top of the door rain. It
stayed there for maybe a second or two, then shot
down diagonally into the floor. Shortly after that, the feeling
of gravity returned, and then I freaked out because I
had no idea what I had experienced. About a year later,
I moved into an apartment building with my mom. One
day unkneen while she was at work, I was in
the kitchen and I felt my mom's presence there, the
same feeling of when you know someone is in the
same room as you but he just aren't looking at them. Automatically.
I turned around to ask her something, but it said
I saw this human I being standing roughly a foot
in front of me. I am sixty four, so from
where I was standing, it looked like it was about
the height of where my chestice. It had nuclear features.
The entire being was vibrating on the spot and did
swelling colors of red, green, and silver all over it.
I looked around the ear and then got the impression
that it noticed that I noticed it. Once it registered that,
rather than turn around, it turned inside it. Its front
became its back, and its back became its front. Then
it was down the hole into closed closet door. I
commonly walked to the door and opened it. Then nothing
was there. The weird part about that experience was that
I didn't react. I registered it is another mundane experience,
like washing dishes. I went and watched TV after that,
not giving it a second thought. Slash slash. When I
was seventeen, I Volva had passed away from skin cancer
that reached his brain. Out of the twelve grand children
he had, me and him were the ones that got
to hang out and enjoy the time. We had since
my parents were divorced and it would be a three
hours drive to go see him. It was one of
the worst days I've had and because of it has
helped me a lot of myself. Anyways, here and half
after that, in my senior year, I was in a
Protestant private skill that would go from Texas too i
Llnois for a big church camp where other skills would
meet up from all over the country. One of the
times we had a church service going on, and it
was right at the end to where everyone goes up
to the front and does the jumping and whatever craziness
people need to worship. To me, going to churches all
my life, I've seen things that are explainable and sometimes
just things that's hard to explain. The unexplainable happened that
night that I will never forget. As I was upfront,
just with my eyes closed, head down, looking at the
floor and just looking like I was praying, I heard
a voice say hi to me. I thought it was
just someone from my group that was wanted to say hi.
Then I hear it again and as I look up
to see who it was, it was my Volvo looking
at me. I was so shocked iliterally fully back and
freed out of me. Seeing him ride in front of me,
I literally broke down and stop God. Crying so much.
My teacher came up to me to see if I
was a case since she saw me flew back in shock,
thinking that I was having a holy presence moment. I
just kept repeating to her out loud, I saw my Vava,
I saw my Vava. To me, I think it was
one of those moments where God gave him a chance
to come down and see his oldest grunchild one more time.
Even though I almost kissed myself there. It will be
something that I will never forget. Slaslush. My grandparents' houses
had boltic guised activity since nineteen seventy. It started with
my mother and her two sister, Louise and Theresa, were
playing around in a semi day. My mother apparently forgot
about the age old don't walk in the actual grave's
asshole rule while they were playing hide and seek and
was running from Teresa. She stepped onto a grove and
then the ground gave way and she fell into the grave.
According to her, the grave was from nineteen oh seven
and bought the same name as hows, discoot some other
doubt out, took it home and got out that weed aboard.
Jimmy Hendrix had just passed away, and her older sister
decided she wanted to contact him. They decided that the
best way to increase the power of the board was
to sprinkle the grave dirt around the board, light some candles,
and turn out the lights. Jimmy Hendrix did not answer them, obviously,
but a woman named Amy did, and she apparently thoroughly
chatters them for being naughty girls. The plan she had
immediately after moved to goodbye to all three women. The
room silent until the wind picked up outside and blew
around the outside of the house in such a way
that it sounded like a shrieking woman and a money
man all at the same time. There was no wind
in the room, yet the candle flames instantly went out,
and the lump on the bedside table switched on by itself.
All three girls run screaming out of the room and
hid in their father's bedroom between the wall and the bed.
After the calm down and no longer felt threatened, they
discussed what should be done next. They went back into
Louise's bedroom, where they had been performing. The seants brushed
the dort into a linen handkerchief, retrieved the board, retrieved
salt and natches from the cupboard in the kitchen, and
went outside in the backyard. They said the Lord's prayer
while holding hands, sprinkled the board and craved out with salt,
pour gasoline on the items and burned them. They went
back inside, feeling like this was over, and tried not
to think about it anymore. Nothing happened for a few
weeks until the indust Louise began having terrible nightmodes, to
which she would wake up screaming several times a night.
My mother was next, followed by her older sister, Theresa.
At My grandparents, both very quiet and not the type
to tell tall tales, describe the upcoming months as nice,
with no sleep, rushing from one room to another, flicking
lights on and off, falling into bed after soothing one daughter,
drifting into sleep, only to be wakened by another screaming girl.
This went on for several months and then stopped abruptly.
Just as my grandparents were beginning to feel well rested,
Louise began screaming for her mother and father in the
night again, there are people in my room. According to Louise,
she would wake up because she could hear people talking,
and when she would open her eyes, the bedroom lights
would be on and there would be at man and
a woman standing in the corner of her bedroom, sipping
cock tills and having discussions about the way that my
grandmother started sleeping in bed with her now sixteen year
old daughter. For the first few days, nothing happened, and
my Anne propped her awake in the middle of the night.
Grandma opened her eyes and looked around the room, seeing nothing,
heard no noises, and when she began to ask Louise
why she woke her up, Louise growled a fistful of
her nightgun and said shh, and then the lamp on
the bedside table turned itself on. My grandmother jumped out
of bed to grant Louise by the arm and dragged
her into my grandpa's bedroom. She woke him up, told
him what happened, and they both slept in his bed
for the next several weeks until Teresa, now eighteen and
going off to college, moved out, at which time they
moved Louise into Teresa's old bedroom. There were more things
that happened over the years, but it slowly tapered off
into a navy once in a while thing. Once they
moved Louise into another bedroom. Now forty seven years later,
that the bedroom is like a tying capsule. My grandam
other used to clean it weekly, but they never moved
anything out of it except the wheezy's clothing. All the
furnacyings have stayed the same, and after years of refurbishing
every other room in the house, that room still has
pea green shack carpet in and orange and gold al warpate.
Since Grandma died ten years ago, no one has really
bothered with the room except for the occasional cleaning It
gets when there's one too many extra overnight guests and
someone has to sleep in there, and no one ever
makes it all night. We almost always wake up to
find this person's sleeping on the couch that night. When
no one is in the room, you can hear people talking,
a lot of people like there's some kind of party
going on in there, coming from the room. As a child,
that room was a source of nightmares. All the elder
cousins would play tricks on the ender ones to force
them into that room only to lock them in. And
myself was locked in the closet when I was seven,
But that a whole another story, and tell their cries
for help attracted dulled attention, or even just the standard
you're too little to play with us, you have to
stay in the back bedroom for five minutes alone if
you want to play. There've been small bouts of activity
throughout the home over the years. This post is getting
pretty long, so I'll cut myself off and not go
into any more detail. But it's really just something that
everyone has used to you, and for the last thirty
five years or so, that room has just kind of
belonged to them. My older cousin I rtually locked me
in the closet in that room when I was about five.
I say locked, but all she really did was close
the door. I don't remember why I couldn't get out
of the closet, but I remember trying to open the
door and not being able to. I didn't want to
yell for help because that would make me a chicken,
and she wouldn't want to play with me anymore, and
b it would get her in trouble and she wouldn't
want to play anymore. So I sat in the floor
of the closet with my back to the wall. It
was quiet for a moment, and I heard footsteps outside
the door, so I thought she was finally let me out,
bat she didn't. According to her and everyone else in
the house, she had been outside to ride her bike.
I heard the wire court hands stop moving back and
forth across the rail on there own, scraping back and forth,
and then an old doll fell off the top shelf
and landed in front of me. It was the kind
that had the little sand books inside it, and when
it landed at me, I looked into its little plastic
face and it said Mama. I started screaming bloody murder
and pounding on the door, and my grandfather came to
the rescue. I remember hearing him run down the hallway
and seeing him sluing the door open. It was really
traumatic for me, but probably not as traumatic for my cousin.
He made her sleep in that room by herself that
night as punishment. She is pretty much hated my guts
ever since. When I first called if ied as a
nurse about seven years ago. My first job was working
in the operating theaters of a lot old hospital. I
was doing a run of night ships and out. We
ran just one emergency theater overnight, so you would often
be able to have a long break to get some sleep.
The department had a large basement full of winding corridors
and rooms where we kept the equipment needed for the
all the surgeries. There was also a very large staff
room in the basement full of comfortable couches. That was
my last shift and I was feeling a bit tired,
so I headed down there for my break. All the
other nets have said they were going to stay on
the main floor and sleep in the recovery room, which
I thought was odd. I set all done, but couldn't
sleep as usual, so was texting the girl I was
dating at the time. Facing the back of the couch,
I suddenly felt a heavy, angry slap on my back.
I screamed out loud because I didn't think anyone was
in the room with me. I jumped up and sammed
the light on empty. I grabbed my stuff and run
out of the room through the winding dot corridors, up
the stairs, and out into the santirey of the recovery room.
I must have looked white as a sheet. Someone asked
if I was okay, and I said what had happened
and swore it was true. There was no way I
was asleep an old and air smiled and said, you
met him, didn't you. She explained how years ago and
not very nice man who did the inventory had a
heart attack and passed away down there alone in the
staff room. Ever since, people kept experiencing angry events like
the sensations of being smothered, pushed, a slap, to flying
down there at night. That was why most staff didn't
sleep down there at night. I never went back in
the staff room for the entire time I worked there,
unless it was in the day with a colleague. This
falls under the unexplainable category rather than the paranormal. I
would describe it as a glitch. When I was about
nine or ten years old, my family lived across the
street from my dad's best friend. This guy had a daughter, Alexis,
who was a couple years older than me. I became
friends with her as we would hang out while our
parents docked. One day, we were kicking a soccer bowl
back and forth in the yard. I was at a
twentem and is thirty feet away and she kicked the
ball toward me, and it soared through the air in
my direction. You know how when something is about to
hit you, you can see it coming, almost like time
slows down. I saw this ball spinning through the aid
directly toward me, and I just sort of cringed and
braced for impact as I watched it draw near, and
then the wordesst shit happened. I stood there and watched
as this ball hit me right square in the abdomen
and then kept on going. I literally watched the ball
disappear into my body before it came out the other
side and continued for ying for another five minutes, ten
feet before tumble into the grass. I know that the
bolt did not simply hit my side emeral off because
I didn't feel anything. If I hadn't been watching, i'd
have thought she kicked it past me. I did not
feel a single thing. It's like a no sigh Fi
movers where someone passes their hand through a hologram. I
know what I saw, and most shockingly, Alecsa saw it too.
I was shocked and confused, and when I turned to
ask her did you see that? I saw her staring
back all slack jawed, with a pale face and giant
eyes like she'd just seen a ghost. She definitely saw it,
probably clearer than I did. All she could say was
what the hell? We had no idea what to make
of it, and I think we were both equally freaked out.
I've tried to justify it and explain it over the years,
but the bottom line is I know what I saw,
and I wasn't the only one. That look of sharks
slash horror on her face confirmed it for me, and
that's what sticks with me, the fact that we both
saw it happen. We were both deeply and settled by it,
and she said exactly what I saw. It when right
for you, dude. When I was little, about four, which
I'm currently nineteen, I woke up screaming and crying to
a bedroom of illuminated holographic butterflies that were all the
colors of the rainbow and the noise of all their
wings were loud and terribly unsettling. They were flying everywhere
in a tornado pattern and appeared as when you turn
up the exposure on a camera and see their paths
for glowing lines. My parents ran into my room, shoped
and confused from what I saw, and I still wonder
if they sold them or it was only me. My
dad proceeded to pick me up and they both ran
out with me and took me outside. We were staying
at a farm that peanut and other crops in Alabama.
Not sure why because I was too young to remember.
My mom's deceased due to drinking and drug use, and
my father is unknown, don't know. They got divorced last
time I checked, he was in Florida. I move in
and started living with my aunt and uncle in Nebraska
when I was six, so I am unable to ask
them if I were seeing stuff or they saw it
as well due to both of those situations. Wondering if
any one knows of any relation of butterflies and demonic
slush dark stuff, or as any thoughts. Maybe it was
a farm that had lots of racial crimes and murders
back in the day. I don't know. There's no racism
in my family at all. Just for more context. Also,
there was an alien poster in the room I was
sleeping in as well that said believed to which I
remember at the time to be horrifying. Hah.