Speaker 1: Welcome back to Paranormal Mysteries, and thank you for joining
me as we explore the unknown. As always, I'm your host,
Nick Ryan. Tonight, I'll be presenting my third and final
part of my listener experience recap for twenty twenty five.
I received so many interesting experiences that it was difficult
to know which ones to include, but I think you'll
appreciate the ones that I chose to finish out the year.
We have a lot of reports to listen to, so
I'll get right into it, but I will be back
at the and of the episode to say farewell and
to wish each and every one of you a happy
new year. Let's begin. Let's begin tonight's journey with Ellie,
who calls their experience a grandfather's love and an unborn memory.
Ellie says, Heinik, I've been an avid listener of your
podcast for a couple of years now, and I figured
that I would like to contribute and share two of
my stories. It's not your typical story of shadow people,
but rather one of great love, and the other well,
I'm not sure how to classify it. First, a little
background for my first story. My grandparents made their home
in a very small rural town on the outside of Austin, Texas.
They built their home from the ground up when my
mom was about seven years old and raised her and
my uncle in that house. When I was around two,
my mom divorced my dad and we moved in with
my grandparents. My grandfather was an amazing man. He knew
just how to make anyone smile. He loved the dance,
loved to cut the grass, and he loved watching his
hometown sports. He worked for our hometown school as a
maintenance man. My five other cousins and I would see
him and call out for Grandpa. Therefore, all my friends
did the same thing until the whole school, spanning from
high school to elementary all called him Grandpa. Living with
my grandparents, he was my brother and I's father figure.
He helped raise us, taught us everything we needed to know,
showed up for us, and supported us through anything with
unconditional love. Me being the only granddaughter, I was absolutely
a Grandpa's girl, and needless to say, he greatly spoiled
me growing up. He was diagnosed with cancer when I
was a child, along with many other health issues, and
in the summer of twenty fifteen, after battling cancer for
thirteen years, he passed away peacefully at the home that
he built, surrounded by all his family. We were all
absolutely heartbroken, including our hometown community. Our family is Catholic
and we do believe in the paranormal, but my grandmother
does not like to talk about it or watch anything
that mentions the paranormal, so we usually talk or watch
shows when she's not present. About two months after my
grandfather passed, my grandmother, brother, mom, and myself were all
sitting in the living room and watching TV. My grandmother
got up to get a glass of water and we
heard the loudest gasp of air come from the kitchen.
We all popped up from the couch and ran to
my grandmother, who was crying uncontrollably. She pointed to the
calendar hanging on the wall, and she said that she
could see my grandfather's face in the calendar, kind of
like how people see the Virgin Mary in their toast.
No one else could see anything, but she kept saying
over and over, he's here. We agreed with her to
help calm her down and said that he must have
stopped by to check in on her. In the months
following he made his presence known, so we knew that
he was still with us. Some days, out of nowhere,
we would smell the scent of fresh cut grass, even
though we had not cut the grass. He also had
a distinct walk, kind of like a shuffle, and we
could hear him shuffling up and down the hallway. Due
to the medical condition he had, he also had a
certain cough or a grunt that he did to clear
his throat. Every so often, we would hear his cough
or shuffle and it would always stop us in our tracks,
not in a scared way, but just to stop and
wait and see if we could hear him more. But
we never did. I moved out of the house when
I was eighteen, but I continued to visit my family
almost every other weekend over the years. My mom and
grandma say that they can hear him every now and then. However,
it has been some time since we have really felt
him at the house. It has now been ten years
since his passing. I am twenty five and I recently
had I had my first child, a baby girl. The
first time I stayed at my grandma's house, it was me,
my baby girl, my mom, and my Grandma. I slept
in my mom's room, which is down the hallway to
the left. My Grandma slept in her room adjacent to
my mom's room, and my mom slept on the front couch.
Of course, as all babies do, my daughter woke up
in the middle of the night for her bottle. I
got up, walked into the hallway up to the kitchen,
and started to make the bottle. As I'm warming the bottle,
I heard shuffling coming from the hallway, thinking that it
was my grandma who heard the baby crying and woke up.
I stick my head into the hallway, but I saw nothing.
I didn't make much of it, so I finished the
bottle and I headed back to my room. As I'm
feeding my daughter, I feel this overwhelming sense of love
and a warm, comforting feeling. A scent of fresh cut
grass filled the room, and I knew then that my
Grandpa was with me, admiring my daughter, as she was
the first baby to ever be in the house and
she would have been his first great granddaughter, again, a
little girl to spoil. I couldn't help but smile, and
I cried a bit, knowing that he was there to
tell me that he was with me, and that he
was so happy to finally see his great granddaughter. Ellie's
next experience contains some very graphic details involving domestic abuse
as well as abortion and miscarriage, which may be triggering
for some listeners. Discretion is advised. My next story has
given me some confusion for years. If you or anyone
knows what I experienced and can help give me some
clarification or explanation on it, I'm open to anything. My
father was an abusive man. When my mom found out
she was pregnant, he told her that she should get
an abortion and he wasn't ready for a baby. My
mom knew that she wouldn't ever terminate her pregnancy, so
my father would consistently beat her to try and make
her miscarriage. One day, we went out to my grandparents
house due to family members coming over to visit. I
was in the back room where the walls are maroon
and there are white curtains over the windows. The bed
was in the far right corner, and in the middle
of the room are my mother and father. The details
of the room will become relevant later. They were arguing
about something and I was looking up at my mom
as she was pleading with him and crying and bleeding
from her mouth. My father then hit her in the face,
causing her lips to get caught in her braces, and
he then throws a punch at my mother's stomach. She
falls to the floor and he begins to kick her.
My grandpa, grandma, uncle, and cousin rush into the room
and they tackle my father to the floor, screaming, hitting him,
kicking him, and then dragging him out of the room.
My grandma rushes over to my mother on the floor
and helps her up. We then walk to the front
of the house and we get into my cousin's car.
She is in the driver's seat crying and telling us
to hurry up. In the front yard, my grandpa, great
uncles and cousins are giving my father what he deserves
for beating a pregnant woman, and I just watch as
we drive away. We take my mom to the hospital
where she is told that there is a high risk
of her losing the pregnancy and she has to be
on complete bed rest for the remaining five months of
her pregnancy. She also had to get her lips taken
out of her braces surgically. It was a very long
and painful process. When I was around seven or eight,
I decided to talk to my family about that incident.
My father hadn't been in our lives for about six
years at this point, and I felt like I needed
to tell them about what I had seen. When I
was telling them what I saw, they looked completely shocked,
and I mean their jaws dropped and their eyes were wide.
When I finished, they all said there was no way
that I could have a memory of that or saw
what happened because I wasn't even born yet. You see,
my mother was pregnant with me at the time that happened.
But yet, and I told them exactly what happened in
perfect detail, even naming the exact family members who were
there that day. The back room I described had been
turned into a nursery for me. They painted the walls
a shade of pink and the curtains were a soft gray,
which were all done before my mom gave birth to me,
So there was no way for me to have ever
known that it was maroon with white curtains. How could
that be? How do I recall something when I wasn't
even born. It has brought me a lot of confusion
over the years, I can't explain how I remembered that incident. However,
it is always stuck with me like a bad core memory.
I have done a bit of research on babies in
utero and what they can see, but it comes up
with the usual light sensitivities, and some babies can see faces,
but I have yet to find anything like what I saw.
I don't speak of this memory, especially with my family,
due to it having to deal with past trauma, but
it's something I seem to always remember and question why
I was able to see it happen. I believe that
God allowed me to see what my mother endured for
a reason, but what reason specifically, I do not know. Again,
I am open to yours or anyone else's thoughts on this,
but ultimately I have to come to terms with not
ever having an explanation to how I had seen those
events without being born. Thank you for allowing me to
tell my stories. I love listening to your podcast. Keep
up the good work and blessings to you and all
your listeners. Sincerely, Ell. This next experience comes to us
from Jaman, and Jaman's first story is called The Fawn.
I've felt these two pretty near and dear to my heart.
And I haven't really told many people because I know
they sound quite outlandish. But these come from two people
who are completely trustworthy to me and no longer with us,
So I'm the one who has to pass these stories along. Now,
this is a story that my father had told me
my entire life. I want to start this story by
saying that my father did not lie, nor did he
make things up. He was one of those men who
was painfully honest. He would tell you the truth no
matter what, even if it's stung, and even if it
made you sad. I'm saying that to let you know that,
while I know this story may sound outlandish, my father
did not lie. We're from rural Appalachia in eastern Tennessee,
and this occurred in a town called Hampton, Tennessee, right
near Elizabethton, Tennessee. This was in the mid nineteen eighties.
My father spent a lot of time outdoors in this
area of Appalachia. The forestry is very dense and lush.
My father grew up with my grandparents. They raised him.
They had a house all the way up in the
woods with no other houses around, and not really many
more people. My dad said that one day he was
out back in the yard where the house sat on
the property. They had cut all the trees around it,
but besides that, the house was covered on all sides
by forest on the property line. As he was sitting
in the yard, he said that he was playing and
noticed something out of the corner of his eye. There
was movement in the tree line ahead. He said he
ignored it and didn't think much of it. He said
he kept playing and noticed more movement, but this time
he immediately looked over, and what he explained to me
has stuck with me in my head forever. It's quite scary,
even though I don't think this being is a scary being.
He explained that he saw a fawn, the creature from folklore.
I swear I'm getting chills right now writing this story.
He said that it was in the distance, and from
what he saw, it came from behind one tree and
then quickly went across to another and then disappeared. From
what he explained, it was also small, and he could
see that it was looking at him as it ran
across the tree line. Before it completely disappear, he said
he immediately ran over to the trees to look around
and see if there was anything else. Another thing that
he said about the story is that it did not
scare him. However, my father was a very brave man.
That's not the only story though, from up in those
woods around that house. My next experience I call bigfoot
in the window. The second part of this story is
from my mamma up in the same woods. My mamma,
which is my great grandmother, was hanging out with her
sister in a small little house up the road near theirs.
They were a military family and they all had small
houses around each other that were deep up into those woods.
My mamma was very matter of fact and didn't joke often,
nor did I ever really see her smile. I just
feel that's important to add with how insane this story is.
This story is from the early nineteen sixties. She explained
that as her and her sister were sitting on the
kitchen counter in their house talking, they then heard a
faint tapping coming from the window, and, to her shock
and horror, when they looked over to the window, she
saw a big, gruff, ape man like looking face that
was staring right back at them. She said, it shocked
them so bad that her sister's face went pale, and
she was sure that hers did too. She said she
screamed at the top of her lungs and screamed for
their brother to go outside and check on what they
just saw. He ran outside with a gun and there
was nothing to be found. He told them that it
was someone messing with them, but they swore that it wasn't.
The next morning, they checked around outside that window and
they saw footprints at least a foot and a half
long in the dirt, and a little further away near
the property line, there were even more footprints. That land
up there has a very old and creepy vibe to it.
There was definitely Indian burial grounds in and around that forest.
That house is also haunted, and there's a hand full
of stories that me and my brother have from that house,
which I can tell you about at a later time.
Let's begin tonight's journey with Benny, who calls their experience
Haunted Farmhouse. Benny says this is a recollection of the
many happenings that occurred while living in an old farmhouse
in south central Michigan. These events span three years from
twenty twenty one to twenty twenty four, and when taken individually,
the fear factor is low. However, upon reflection of these
events in totality, I felt a pit of unease and
fear well up inside of my being. The spooky old
farmhouse is set on approximately sixty acres and the property
includes a few barns and outbuildings, and it lies firmly
within Amish territory. While I do not know the exact
age of the house itself, it was one hundred plus
based on the fieldstone found fund and the dirt floor
in the basement. Now, all old houses contain flaws that
may explain many oddities which occur. One example being the
constant swinging of my aprons that were hung in the kitchen,
which were likely caused by a draft from one of
the windows. With all the occurrences in the house, my
first thought was to find the natural explanation. As time
went on, however, the explanation to a few experiences were
difficult to find. One of the more common happenings was
things falling off or being moved on the kitchen counters,
including silverware, food, paper, towel rolls, et cetera. While I
typically chalk this up to the many mice that we
had in the home. The repetitive nature was unsettling. The
next uncomfortable event was doors being open. Three times I
left for work and came home to exterior doors wide open.
I did have a habit of not locking or sometimes
even fully closing the back door and instead just close
using the screen door, so the fact that this door
was wide open was not too startling. The same, however,
cannot be said about the side door, which was not
a door that I ever used, and it remained constantly
locked with a dead bolt. How that door was flung
wide open when I returned home from work is a mystery,
and it caused me to sweep my house looking for intruders.
The same thing happened to my basement door a couple times,
which was old and you had to yank the door
knob up a bit to open it. The house only
lost power twice, and after the first time, I learned
that the home had its own power pole behind the
garage that ran power to the house, barns, and garages. Therefore,
whenever I lost power in the home, I just had
to go to the pole to reset the breaker. The
second time that I lost power was creepy, but it
could be traced back to coincidence. You see, we were
three days into a massive snow and ice storm, to
the point where the snow and ice was beginning to
melt and puddle everywhere. I was home as we had
a snow day from the school that I worked at,
and we had lost power mid day. Again. This was
only the second time losing power in three years, and
it came days after the giant storm. So I walked
out to the pole and switched the breaker. I couldn't
see the house from the pole, so I had to
walk back in to see if I had effectively reset
the power. I walked back toward the house and I
saw the front light was on. Immediately upon re entering
the house, though, the power flipped back off, so I
repeated the pattern three more times. This happened four times
that I lost power, reset the breaker, and then lost
power again within seconds of walking back into the house.
The creepiest moment, which still raises my hairs anytime I
recount it, occurred one night as I was sitting on
the couch and watching TV. The staircase leading upstairs to
the two bedrooms was directly behind the living room separated
by a wall, so I was sitting with my back
to the wall stairs behind my back, and the bedrooms upstairs. Upstairs,
in one of the bedrooms was a little crawl space
for storage, which had a door cut out to fit
the opening with no handles. When using this door, you
just kind of swung it shut as best you could. Well,
all of a sudden, a loud banging noise came from
the bedroom behind me and up the stairs. It was
a loud bang followed by a few quieter bangs. These
bangs repeated eight to ten times, with each bang causing
more fear and worry. Now, this particular week had been
abnormally windy, and there was a window facing that crawl
space door, so after considering every possible explanation, I landed
with wind gusts causing that door to open and then
swing shot. So I grabbed my handgun because I was terrified,
and I walked upstairs to close the window, half expecting
to see someone or something standing in the bedroom. When
I got upstairs, the window was open, and before closing
I felt for the breeze entering the room, but it
was minimal. I went over and pushed the cross base
door open to see if the window could somehow shut it,
but after a minute of watching, it remained closed, even
after many gusts entered the window, so window shut. I
head back down the stairs to the couch, hoping that
the activity would cease. However, the door continued to open
and shut for the next hour or so, each time
with more of a time gap between. I slept on
the couch the rest of the night with my handgun
close by for comfort. The final occurrence was seeing an
orb blank ball of light in my bedroom as I
was lying in bed. It was straight ahead of me,
and it was bright and round like a light bulb,
and it kind of bobbed in the air. Then it vanished.
When considering all these events at once, it causes me
some concern to consider that something might have been causing
all of them. Then again, they could all have simple
natural explanations. I moved out of that house last year
when I got married and I moved into my wife's house.
I kept some things stored in the farmhouse in agreement
with the owners, who did not plan to rent it
out to anyone new. About a month after moving out, though,
I received a message from the owners asking me to
come and remove the remainder of my things out of
the house because they were moving back into the home
in order to make some repairs. When I entered the
home to gather my things, a shot of dread shot
through my body and all the hairs on my arms
stood on end. Looking across the interior walls, there were
huge gaps and seams across the dry wall. The walls
over the stairs had shifted, causing creeks and moans everywhere
we walked. Wallfooters had slipped and stuck out over the staircase.
My wife and I got my things and we quickly left.
Now I had one person at work who would compare
creepy stories with me from her home, and upon telling
her of this destruction, her first comment was, maybe they
were mad that you left. Well, I don't know if
this was happenstance an old home falling into disrepair, or
if there actually was something in that house that was
upset that I left. Our next experience comes to us
from Tina, and Tina's story is called Saying Goodbye to Mom.
I just found your podcast and shared it with my
sister and we've enjoyed listening. My sister and I have
had many experiences from childhood to adulthood. Intuition and sensitivity
run deep in our family. This is the most standout
experience to me. At the time, I lived in Kansas
and my mom still lived in my childhood home in
San Diego, where a huge Mexican family and were raised Catholic.
My mom was at the end of her journey with
stage four lung cancer. December twenty nineteen, I had received
a call from my dad suggesting that I come home.
Mom was sleeping a lot and not eating any more.
My oldest son and I flew home to San Diego
on Tuesday, December tenth. In the afternoon. Days prior to
me flying in, my mom would wake up and would
ask if I had arrived. She was sleeping, and we
entered her room. I kissed my aunt and had a
short conversation. When my mom woke up, I was sitting
next to her bed. She turned and was surprised to
see me and my son. I kissed her and gave
her a gentle hug to her frail body. This was
the total opposite of the mom in my memories. My
mom was always a very strong person and always looked
bigger than me, but not this time. The disease had
taken her and it had robbed her body. She sat
up and said hi, tea, and to my surprise, she asked,
are you going to be okay? This threw me off guard.
I knew the reason that I was coming back. It
was to help my mom transition to heaven. I tried
to be strong and I replied yes, Mom. She then
laid back down and she stayed awake until bedtime. December eleventh, Wednesday,
Mom woke up late morning and then fell back asleep.
My son and I had to move her to the
center of the bed to keep her from sliding out.
We carefully slid our hands under her body while she
slept and moved her to the center of the bed
and wedged between pillows for safety. She let out a
moan of discomfort and was awakened. That evening was painful
for her. I went into my bedroom to get my
phone to call hospice for instructions. I had left the
light on and went back to my mom's bedroom with
my son and my dad was in the garage watching TV.
I finished the conversation with my son, who was standing
next to me and he says to me, did you
see that? And I said no, what? And he said,
the light just went off in your bedroom. Now, we
were still in my mom's bedroom and I could not
explain it, nor did we feel any kind of fear.
As we settled in for the night, my son and
I decided to sleep in her room. Around ten thirty pm,
my son heard footsteps coming down the hallway. My dad
was already in his room with the door closed and
fast asleep. No one else was in the house besides me,
my son, dad, and my mom. Everyone was accounted for.
My son peeked out of the room and then walked
down the hallway, seeing no one. He then asked me,
did you hear that? I was busy tending to my
mom and I hadn't heard anything. Roughly an hour later,
he laid down in the air mattress facing the doorway
of my mom's room. He then saw a dark shadow
that passed by the doorway going into my bedroom where
I had left the light. On December twelfth, Thursday, Mom
was sleeping and stayed asleep all day and night, and
I was on a scheduled rotation giving her meds. At
eleven pm, I was given her the meds and I
was standing at the table between her bed and the
closet when I saw a shadow standing next to me.
I didn't feel any bad energy, but it was like
a person was watching over us. I turned my head
and it was gone. Then I turned to my mom
with the dropper of medicine. When I saw sparkles over
her head. I was mesmerized again, feeling no fear. I
asked my son, did you see that? But my son
said no. Both of us were just amazed at the
activity that was going on in the bedroom. Friday, December thirteenth,
Mom slept all day. At this point, she was comfortable,
no pain, and her heart rate was okay. That night,
my sister said that she would be over for the
night rotation for medicines. It was evening before my sister arrived.
We finished dinner and were watching TV. All of a sudden,
the lamp across the room blinks on and off a
couple of times. We looked at each other and I
decided to check the light bulb. However, everything was fine.
Pay attention to this lamp at the end. That's when
I felt my instinct kick in and I had to
check on Mom. I walked into her bedroom and she
was doing just fine. She was sleeping and feeling no pain. Saturday,
December fourteenth, Mom slept comfortable with no pain. Her breathing
pattern had slowed. The hospice nurse checked her, and my
sister came over for the nightly meds on Sunday, December fifteenth.
By five am, Mom's breathing was sporadic. It was her time.
We gathered around her bed so she would feel our
presence of support, and at five forty eight am, Mom
became an angel. Around six thirty am, we were sitting
in the kitchen. Everyone was sitting around the island when
the same lamp with no problem blinked a couple of times. Again.
Everyone looked at it and then looked at each other.
I said that that is Mom letting us know she
made it. Our next experience comes to us from Sharon,
and Sharon's story is called Old Soldiers don't die, They
just annoy you. In the kitchen, Sharon says, hello, Nick,
I really enjoy your podcast. While I'm on my way
to work in the morning. And though I love the paranormal,
I have had very few experiences. I live in a
moderate sized city on the Mississippi River, and not a
whole lot happens here. I don't have any really dramatic experiences,
but there is one that stands out in my mind
that I still have not quite explained to this day
that I would like to share. I can't really give
you the name of the place that I worked at.
They are government owned, so they have a lot of
NDAs to sign. But it was a nursing home for
the military. You had to have been a member of
the military or married to a member of the military
in order to be admitted there as a resident. It
was a huge place with several buildings that takes up
quite a large section of the area, and there's even
a small petting zoo. Peacocks freely roamed the grounds. There's
a large pond to fish in, and it's a very
beautiful area. I worked in the building that housed a
diner like situation, where even though they had meals served
at the cafeteria on a regular basis, it is an
actual little diner or restaurant on the property that they
could go to and get something else to eat, or
even ice cream or a snack or something along those lines.
I believe it was one of the few buildings that
never housed residents. It was always used as a restaurant,
meeting place or dance hall type building because there was
a very large room out front of the restaurant that
they would have meetings and get togethers in. The original
buildings were built in the late eighteen hundreds or early
nineteen hundreds and had seen a lot of soldiers come
and go. The diner itself was not very large, and
the kitchen was separated by a large wall. Behind that
wall was where a huge freezer and refrigerator was, and
on the op opposite side of the wall was where
the sink and prep area was. When you walked around
the wall, you were back in the kitchen or the
oven fryer, grill, another little refrigerator, and the area where
they could buy sodas and stuff like that was that
when this experience happened, I was in the area where
the sink was located. Now, mind you, like I said,
there was a wall between us and the kitchen, and
you had to go around the corner through the door
to get into the kitchen. So I was standing at
the sink doing dishes, and my brother was working with
me at the time. He had come up to ask
me something and I was standing there talking with him,
and this is when I felt something tap or gently
hit the back of my leg. I looked down and
there was a long, narrow, plastic tube looking thing on
the floor by my feet. Puzzled, I picked it up
and I asked my brother, did you throw this at me?
But he said no, I was standing right here, which
he was, so there was no way he could have
thrown it at me. Now, we had another coworker at
the time who was also our delivery driver. The campus
was so large that we literally had to have someone
with the car to drive to the outer buildings to
deliver food. We'll call him Mike. During this experience, Mike
was in the office area, which was in a hall
behind the kitchen. So I hollered to him, did you
throw something at me? But he said no, Why. I
then showed him the little black tube and I said,
what is this and he says, well, it looks like
the handle to our can opener. I looked around and
I said, where is the can opener and he said
it's hanging up where it usually is. So I looked
around the corner, and sure enough, the can opener was
hanging up on its hook on the wall and it
was missing its handle. Now, I would have been facing
toward the wall that the can opener was on when
the handle hit me on the leg, so there was
no way that thing could have fallen and hit me
because the angle would have been all wrong. However, I
told myself it was just loose, and that it fell
off and then bounced and hit me. Id to find
a valid reason for the handle to come off the
can opener go around a ninety degree angle and then
hit me in the leg, but I couldn't find one.
When I had to put it back on, I had
to literally force it on because it would not easily
slide back on. I then said to myself, did our
ghost just hit me in the leg with a can
opener handle? And if so, why would he do that?
Then I remembered something from earlier that day, when I
was in the kitchen. We had a whiteboard that was
propped up against the counter that had the daily specials
on it. It had been sitting there all week and
not been touched or moved when it suddenly toppled and
fell onto the kitchen floor. I was very busy at
that time making a bunch of call in orders, and
when I reached over and picked the board back up,
I hollered, knock it off, George. I don't have time
for this today. You see, we had a ghost in
our building that we called George. Now I don't know
if that was actually his name or not, but that's
what we called him. So then I thought to myself,
maybe George wasn't too happy with me for yelling at
him that morning, and he was letting me know. So
I just kind of stood in the kitchen and I
said out loud, I'm sorry that I yelled at you, George.
Please don't throw stuff at me anymore. I moved on
to another job about six months after that, and even
though we did have random things that happened around the kitchen,
like the sound of pots and pans moving and the
sound of a stack of pots being dropped, we would
always find that nothing had fallen. We would also find
doors and cabinets that had been left open, and I
would get accused of leaving them open when I left
the night before. However, I know perfectly well that they
were closed when I left. Nothing was ever thrown at
me again. That was the only unexplained thing that ever
happened to me, But it didn't frighten me. It just
made me realize that ghosts may have feelings too, and
they don't like having their feelings hurt. Her. Next experience
comes to us from Will and this is what he
had to say. My father was prior military and this
experience happened on an army post. This was about twenty
two years ago and I was a sophomore in high school.
My mom would get contracts to clean empty houses after
someone was stationed somewhere else for extra cash. Sometimes I
would go with her to help her out. One night,
she told me that she needed to strip and wax
the floors of a house because it was due the
next day, and she asked me to help, so we went.
She had a vacuum that she would run through the
house before putting stripper on the floor, so she started
doing that in the back bedroom. I was in the
living room adding the chemical to the mop bucket, and
the vacuum was audible. As she made her way into
the living room with the vacuum, I noticed something odd.
The end of the power cord was visibly unplugged, and
it was in the middle of the hallway. However, the
vacuum was still running. I don't know if she could
feel my vibe or what, but my mom looked at
me and at that same time, I pointed toward the
end of the power chord. When she saw it, she
immediately shrieked and dropped the vacuum, running out of the house.
As soon as she had let go of the vacuum,
it powered off. I would say that from the time
that I noticed it was unplugged but still on to
when we freaked out and it turned off was about
six or seven seconds. How long before that when it
became unplugged, we don't know. Anyway, I followed my mom
out front, and she wouldn't go back in, so I
finished the floors. Don't get me wrong, I was freaked
out too, but not enough to stop me, as I
didn't feel any kind of danger. My mom was brought
up Roman Catholic and is very superstitious. She thinks it
was spirit related, while I, on the other hand, feel
like it was more of a glitch. I saw what
I saw, though, and I am thankful to have seen it,
and I came up with a couple of theories. First,
perhaps it's some quantum type stuff, think slit experiment. And
my second theory is that maybe she did it with
her mind without knowing. We do still talk about it sometimes,
and I've asked her what she was thinking about when
she was vacuuming, and she said that she was just
making a list in her head of the things that
needed to get done. So what do you think glitch
or power of the mind type thing or was the
government emitting some type of electrical current to the air
and somehow it channeled to the vacuum. Anyway, thank you
for reading my story and for sharing a multitude of
experiences across the world. Your podcast makes me feel less
alone with things that I've seen and experienced. I do
have an interesting UFO story for you as well, and
I will have to send that in soon and it
takes place on the same army base. Again, thank you
for what you do and until next time, will our
next experiences come to us From Chong and Jong's experiences
are called Where Was I and the Time I Lost
he Nik. I'm from China. I listen to your podcast
every day and I have always been passionate about UFOs, aliens,
and ghost stories because they can help me forget anxieties
and achieve inner peace. Now, I want to share some
strange experiences of mine. About thirty years ago, when I
was around the fourth grade of elementary school, maybe eleven
or twelve years old, I was obsessed with arcade games
and often went to the arcade, which was about a
ten minute walk from my home. The arcade was located
on the first basement floor of a building, and it
was open from nine am to eleven pm. Since I
frequented the arcade, I was very familiar with its boss
and its surroundings. Yes, I mean every building and every
street around it. I remember at that time that my
parents went to another city to visit my sick grandmother
and they wouldn't be back for a few days, so
I was totally free and I spent all of my
spare time in the arcade during these days. It was
a Sunday or Saturday when I completed a very popular
three Kingdoms game at that time in China. The boss
of the arcade then came over and told me they
were about to close. He smiled and said, hurry up
and get out of here with your tail between your legs,
so I left the arcade. There were two exits leading
to the ground level, one on the east side and
the other on the west. Usually I choose the east
one because it's closer to my home. No matter which
one I choose, I have to climb a long flight
of stairs to reach the ground level. These stairs are
narrow and very dim, with only two orange light bulbs
hanging on the walls. When I got to the ground
level and took the first breath of fresh air, I
was stunned, my mind going completely blank. I must emphasize
firstly that although I had played the arcade game for
almost all day, I was very clear headed at that time,
and I didn't feel tired at all. The reason that
I was so stunned was that what unfolded before me
was a scene completely different from the familiar one that
I was used to. You see, there are two buildings
in front of the eastern exit of the basement. One
is ten stories high and the other is seven stories high.
Both of these buildings are still standing, but when I
got out of the exit that night, I did not
see these two buildings. They were gone, and in their
place was a row of single story buildings, and all
of them had their roller shutters down. I can still
remember very clearly that it was so quiet that I
couldn't hear anything. Usually every night at this time, there
were many food trucks selling late night snacks here during
those years, with quite a few people stopping by for
a bite, but they had disappeared at that moment as well.
Maybe it's not accurate to say that it was quiet,
because it was as if all sounds vanished, just like
the two buildings. It was a very strange, indescribable feeling
and something very hard to put into words. I then
took about two steps forward and I looked around and
I saw a completely unfamiliar street. It was not any
of the streets around my home. I was so scared
that I ran back to the basement arcade to get help. Luckily,
I saw the arcade's roller shutters were still open. I
was in a panic to find the boss or any
servers to tell them what I saw. But when I
rushed into the arcade, I found nobody, even though it
was open, no boss, no servers, and no players. All
the arcade machines were turned off. I shouted, but still
no replies. It was the second weird thing that I
met that night, and I felt like I was about
to break down. What was wrong with this world? Where
was I? Where was everybody else? Well, I couldn't stay
in the basement anymore, so I rushed over to the
west exit, and to put it simply, after I exited
through it, I saw a completely different scene. Once again.
I wanted to cry, but no tears came out. Maybe
the fear had choked them back. At that moment, I
thought that I would never see my parents again. The
sky had fallen and I was finished. At this point,
I ran back to the basement, huddled in a corner,
desperate and not knowing what to do. About five minutes later,
I heard footsteps right next to me. I looked up
and I saw a cleaner standing beside me and asking
me in surprise, what are you doing here? I then
jumped up and hugged her tightly, bursting into tears as
I recounted what had happened to me. She clearly didn't
believe me, though, and she took me outside. When I
returned to the ground level, I found that it was
already daytime, and I was overjoyed to find that everything
had returned to normal. The two familiar buildings were there
once again. I couldn't believe it. I thanked her and
I rushed to my home. When I got home, I
instinctively glanced at the wall and it showed that it
was around six am. That's when it suddenly hit me
that something was terribly wrong once again. You see, as
I told you before, the arcade closed at eleven PM,
so I left at eleven PM. I can remember it
very clearly that no more than thirty minutes could have
passed between my first exit from the arcade that night
and my encounter with the cleaner. And there was absolutely
no way that I fell asleep or lost consciousness in
that basement corner. So where did those six and a
half hours go? My second paranormal experience happened during my
college years when I was working part time in a
bar which was only about a ten minute walk from
my college. My work schedule was every Wednesday, Friday, and
Sunday from seven pm to ten pm. One night on
maybe a Friday or Sunday, due to some mistakes at work,
I left the bar at around ten forty five pm.
Since the college dormitory closed at eleven PM, I decided
to take a short cut between my college and the
bar I worked in. There was an open air clothing
market which had since been vacated and was awaiting demolition.
The market has rows of stalls with narrow pathways between them,
and cutting through these alleys can save me several minutes.
Surrounding the market was a perimeter wall, but someone had
knocked out two gaps through it, likely left by others
taking the same short cut before me. But it wasn't
an easy route. First, there was no lighting inside. Second,
the grounds were littered with broken bricks and wooden planks
that were studded with rusty nails. I had only taken
this shortcut once before, and I did not want to
take it again. But on that night, all I cared
about was saving time to get back to the campus
as fast as possible. It was near summer, so not
very cold at night. I had to walk solely on
the moonlight. I quickened my pace through the center of
the market. Now I could see another gap in the wall,
this one much larger, about three meters wid Through the gap,
I could see a tea junction, its street lights casting
a bright glow. When I was about several steps away
from the gap. Suddenly I saw a middle aged man
pulling a rickshaw through it. This was utterly strange, as
rickshaws had disappeared from China half a century ago, and
the man was dressed in century old clothing that nobody
wore today. Driven by curiosity, I rushed out of the
gap and looked in the direction the rickshaw had gone,
But I saw nothing. The entire sequence from spotting the
rickshaw until I ran out of the gap to look
couldn't have taken more than three seconds, Yet both the
man and the rickshaw had vanished. To one side of
the road were shops, and to the other was the
market's wall. The nearest intersection was over one hundred meters ahead,
and there was no way that anyone could pull a
rickshaw that distance and then turn the corner in three seconds.
Had I hallucinated. No, A street light right beside the
gap had illuminated the scene perfectly. What I said I
saw was unmistakably real, but with my dorm curfew looming,
I didn't dwell on it. I ran back to the
dorm panting, only to find the door locked. I pulled
up my phone to check the time. This was when
mobile phones had just started becoming common in China. It
was my very first phone, a cheap Motorola, and I
froze when I saw the screen one ten a m.
Even now, more than twenty years later, I can still
recall the exact time with perfect clarity. It was impossible.
There was no way more than fifteen minutes had passed
since I left the bar. My phone must be broken,
I thought, and I knocked on the door, but there
was no answer. I kept knocking for what felt like
ages before the dorm supervisor came. She threw it open,
glared at me, and snapped, it's one in the morning.
Are you blind to the rules? I then walked into
the dorm building with my head down and not saying
a word. As I passed by the supervisor's office, I
looked clo mostly at the wall clock and it showed
around one fifteen am. So my phone wasn't broken after all.
But that couldn't be right. When I got back to
the dorm room, that door was locked as well. Our
dorm room had a large padlock on the outside and
a latch on the inside, so if someone inside had
the latch shut, no one on the outside could open
it without help from within. Feeling terribly embarrassed, I knocked
for quite a while before our dorm leader finally came
to let me in. My other roommates were all asleep.
I checked our wall clock again, more carefully this time,
and it still read around one fifteen am. As I
laid in bed, replaying the events in my mind, a
profound sense of unreality washed over me. Had I truly
seen the middle aged man and the rickshaw? I was
certain that I saw him. Was my memory playing tricks
on me? Or worse, had it been tampered with? And
where had those missing two hours in fifteen minutes on?
The next experience that I want to share happened about
fifteen years ago, when I had graduated from college for
several years. One night, my mom and I walked home
from my eldest aunts when we passed by an underground
shopping mall. I wanted to check if a bookstore inside
had a book that I was waiting for. We went
down the stairs, but it was around nine p m.
And there were few people below. We walked through the
underground passage and arrived at the bookstore entrance. My mom
said she didn't want to go inside, and that she
would wait for me write at the bookstore entrance. The
bookstore was tiny, with just a single entrance. At that moment,
there was nobody inside except for the owner. The owner
was reading a newspaper. When I asked him if the
book had arrived, he said no and lowered his head
back toward the paper. Then I casually glanced at the
books on the nearest shelf, but nothing interested me, so
I left. However, when I stepped outside, I didn't see
my mom. Now, from the time that I entered the
bookstore until I came out, it had only been less
than a minute. There was no way that she could
have gone far, so I shouted for her several times,
but I got no response. At that time, she didn't
have a cell phone yet, so I couldn't just call her.
To the left of the book store was a long,
straight hallway with only several people in sight, but my
mom wasn't there. To the right, the hallway was completely
empty and I could see the stairs leading up. I
then circled around near the underground mall entrance, but I
couldn't find my mom. Starting to worry, it suddenly struck
me that she might have gone to the washroom, so
I went downstairs again, checked both nearby washrooms, and I
yelled for her, but still nothing. Then I realized that
the underground mall had two entrances, so I rushed back
to check the other one, but again I found nothing. Finally,
I decided to return to the entrance that we had
originally come down. If she wasn't there, would call the police.
As I returned to the entrance and started up the stairs,
I saw my mom. She was coming down the stairs,
and the moment she saw me, she cried, where have
you been? I've searched everywhere. I then told her everything,
but she didn't believe a word of it. She insisted
that she had waited for me outside the bookstore entrance
for nearly ten minutes, and when I still hadn't come out,
she went in to look for me. With no customers
in sight, she asked the store owner where the person
who had just entered had gone. The owner then glanced
up and said, he just laughed, But how's that possible.
She then argued with him until it turned into a quarrel. Eventually,
she left the bookstore, searching everywhere for about twenty minutes
and nearly crying. Now, I must emphasize that my mom
was a deeply serious woman who never joked with me.
At that time, she was under sixty, without a single
white hair, and had always been in excellent health. She
and I had never had any history of psychiatric or
psychological disorders. Our minds remained clear. So did I enter
a parallel universe when I stepped out of the bookstore.
That's absurd. Thank you for reading my stories and best
wishes to you and your family. Our next experience comes
to us from Tina, and Tina's story is called Dark Presence.
In August of nineteen eighty five, my family moved into
an older, two story home in Kissimi, Florida. I was
a very young teenager with a six week old son.
My parents gave me the downstairs bedroom that had a
bathroom attached to it. The very first night that we
were in the home, I was in my room and
had walked into the bathroom and there was the most overwhelming,
strongest smell of urine. The following night, the exact same
smell was overpowering, and I called my mom and dad
into the bathroom and I asked them if they could
smell it. Both of them said that they smelled absolutely nothing.
From day one. The moment that I set foot into
the home, I felt something really dark. The home scared
me about a week and was living there. I told
my mom how uncomfortable I was in the home and
that I wasn't exactly sure why. It was probably a
week later when I took my son to change his
diaper and I swaddled him in his blanket and he
quickly fell asleep in my arms. My family decided to
go shopping, and with my son falling asleep, I opted
out and I decided to stay home. I was home alone.
Our living room had a partial wall that separated the
living room from the kitchen, so I took my son
into the living room area and I placed him in
the middle of our long couch, up against the seating
area and where your back would be at the end
of the couch. On both sides, we had an end table.
I walked around the partial wall, turned down the gas stove,
and I placed some soup in a pan and I
began warming up. Out of nowhere, I heard my six
week old son screaming. I have never heard a baby cry,
and scream so hard before I immediately turned the stove off,
took the pot of soup and set it off to
the side on the counter, and I went straight to
the living room to the couch where I had left
my son. The whole time, I could hear my son screaming,
but my son was not on the couch. I must
have stood there for a few seconds in total disbelief.
I turned my head as I could hear my son
screaming coming from the right side where I was standing.
I ran to the end of the couch, looked down
and I saw my son still perfectly swaddled in his blanket,
and he was underneath the middle of the end table
at the end of the couch. I quickly took my
son in my arms and I placed him against my
chest and began crying in fear and uncertainty of what
had just occurred. I scanned the room and immediately checked
the front door, which was locked as I had locked
it when my family left. I looked everywhere downstairs and upstairs,
but there was nobody there. I checked all the windows
and doors, but everything was secured and locked. With my
son still in my arms, as I was terrified to
let him out of my sight. I walked back to
the kitchen to pour the soup into a bowl, and
the pot of soup was back on the stove and
at a rapid boil. I don't recall if I ever
told my mom what had happened, but it was a
very short time later that my mom announced that we
were moving. The following day, when our family was loading
up our belongings into the truck, I had walked to
the mail box to get our mail. That's when a
young boy, probably around the age of eight years old,
was riding his bike down the street. He came up
beside me and stopped, looked at me, looked at the house,
and then looked back at me and said, you guys
are moving out already. I told him, yes, that we
were moving, to which he replied, well, if you didn't
know when you moved in, you know now that the
house is haunted. Right then he just rode away on
his bike. To this day, I still get shivers running
through me when I think about that day. Every detail
of that time plays in my head as if it
just happened. Our next experience comes to us from Manny
and Mannie's experience is called when no one was home.
Mannie says py Nick. I've been listening to your podcast
for about six months now, and I really enjoy hearing
your listener stories. Even though I get the creep sometimes
it's nice knowing there are people out there who've had
similar experiences to the one I'm about to share with you.
To give a little context, I live in Dallas and
this happened during peak coved and I was fourteen at
the time. My school, like most schools around the world,
switched to online classes. My parents and my brother still
had to work since the rules didn't apply to their jobs,
so I would spend the entire morning by myself. One day,
my mom woke me up as usual to get breakfast
before they left. Whenever she'd leave for work, she'd always
remind me to lock the door since I was still
young and there were a lot of weirdows in our area.
Just so you know, our door had double locks, meaning
that if the key was removed from the lock on
the inside, it was impossible to open the door from
either side. Without the key, there was no way anyone
could get in unless they broke the door down. So
after my parents left, I double locked the door like
they always told me to, and I turned on my
computer and I joined my Zoom class like usual. After
class ended, I decided to go to the bathroom, and
even though I was alone, I closed the door out
of habit And here's where things got a little weird.
I usually scroll through social media while doing my business.
Don't ask me why, It's just something I do. This
is when I started hearing heavy footsteps. I didn't think
much of it at first, since I lived in an
apartment complex and it could have just been someone on
another floor. But then the footsteps stopped. About ten or
twenty seconds later, something or someone knocked on the bathroom
door three soft knocks. Trying to stay calm, I told
myself it was just noise from another floor. But then
whatever it was hit the door three times, super hard,
like it was trying to break it down. I whispered
to myself, what the f is going on? And I froze.
I stood there for what felt like five minutes, just listening,
waiting to see if it would happen again. I finished
my business and tried calling my parents to tell them
that someone might be in the apartment, but none of
them answered. I finally worked up the courage to leave
the bathroom, and I grabbed the only quote unquote weapon
that I could find, which was a plunger, and I
slowly opened the door. I crept around the apartment, checking everything,
but there was no one there. I checked every window,
The front door was still locked, no signs of a
break in. Nothing. I went to my room and waited
until my parents got home. Then I told them everything,
and they checked the entire apartment again, still nothing. That
was the only and hopefully last, unexplainable thing that has
ever happened to me. One last thing that I'd like
to add is that, ever since that day, every time
I tell someone this story, my eyes get watery. But
I don't know why. If anyone else has experienced something similar,
please let me know, sincerely, Manny. This next experience comes
to us from Cassandra, and Cassandra calls her experience the
dark glob in the house for Sale. Cassandra says it
was a small, non glamorous house built in what I
recall as the nineteen fifties on a long street that
was filled with similar houses. A little remodeling had been
done to this house, but nothing special or over the top.
To make me reach immediately for my check book. As
I and my real estate agent entered in February of
twenty twenty, there was no sign of the previous owners whatsoever.
Every spec of their existence had been removed or relocated
to somewhere else. How long had this house been empty?
I don't know. I was new to the area and
anxious to get settled, but I don't leap at every
fly that comes along, and something told me that it
wouldn't be this house. The front door opened to a
small living room, then an odd kitchen, and after a
jog left and a step down, there was a ho
hum den, as if this had been a cheap edition.
Later on, I remember entering the back yard from here,
but I was already not impressed, and I was ready
to move on to the next showing. As much as
I love gardens and patios and flowers and trees, there
was nothing of that, as if this house had no
life at all, inside or out. I took only a
few steps before coming back inside. My reeltor and I
re entered the kitchen and walked to the hallway. In
between the kitchen and living room. I looked down the
hallway and noticed that out of the four rooms adjoining
the hallway, only one door was closed. It was the
bedroom door at the end of the hallway and to
the left. Immediately I stopped and stared. My intuition said,
this isn't good. That door shouldn't be closed, especially when
all the other doors are open. More importantly, who closed it?
Unbeknownst to me at the time, my reeltor's intuition told her,
I don't want to open that door, but as a
real tour I'm obliged to show the house. As we
progressed down the hallway, first up was the bathroom on
the left, then a small bedroom on the right, and
next to it was a small master bedroom with a
small bath typical of that time period. The only thing
left to look at was the room at the end
of the hallway on the left, the one with the
closed door. My realtor opened the door and entered The room,
like all the others, was completely devoid of anything personal.
She talked about the bedroom and went to the closet
doors to open them again. They were typical of the
time period. It was a small closet with doors that
slide left and right. I could see them from the
doorway of the room. As she did this, I tried
to enter the room, but my feet wouldn't budge, not
for nothing. I looked down at my feet that were
seemingly stuck to the floor and would not cross the
threshold into that room. My feet stood stuck in the doorway.
In fifty eight years of living at that time and
having paranormal experiences out the wazoo for several years, my
feet have never refused to move. I asked them, point blank,
why have you stopped. I am bewildered. Tell me what's
going on. Simultaneously, as I looked at my feet, I
began shouting out loud, I will not enter that room.
I will not enter that room. I cannot enter that room.
At the same time that I was shouting, my realtor
began shouting, I must get out of this room. I
must get out of this room. And like a linebacker,
she turned toward me, eyes as wide as pies, and
she started running directly towards me. Queue to my feet,
get out of here now. We both ran toward the kitchen,
where my realtor had left the house keys. We escaped outside,
and she nervously locked the door and returned the keys
to the odd location on the side of the house
that was attached to the gas meter, not the front door,
which is typical, which we both thought was very unusual.
We stood there, shaking in the front yard, short of
breath and asking each other over and over, what was that?
What was that? As we talked later in compared notes,
we both thought of just flat out running down the
street at full notch, even though both of our cars
were parked just feet away at the curb. We eventually
retreated to the street to get off the property, but
it still took us a bit to calm down. Our
breathing was heavy and almost frantic. It took about thirty
minutes before either of us could drive. We then followed
each other out of the subdivision to ensure our safety.
There is a part two to this story, when I
hired the same realtor to sell the house I eventually
bought in March of twenty twenty with her help. It
was sold in April of twenty twenty five, and it
was filled to the top with paranormal activity. It affected me,
my new husband, and our new puppy every day. I
would love to tell you about it if you would
be willing to hear it. There were voices, things flying
off shelves, the sound of metal clanging or wood rolling, visions,
footsteps continually waking up at three a m. Whispers from
dark entities with names not our own, seeing former owners, portals,
physical attacks, and more. I also meditated years later, and
I was shown that there was a creature in that
first house we toured that was a black like glob
and it had tricked its way into a child's bedroom.
It was not a good entity, and if I had
been able to enter that bedroom, that door would have
shut and locked behind us. Our next experience comes to
us from anonymous and their experience is called Ghosts of
Dacasville Elementary School. Hello Nick, I'm a huge fan of
the show, and I wanted to share with you one
of the few paranormal experiences that I've had while attending college.
In this story, I'm really more of a person retelling
others' experiences, but I did fully believe them to be
true because of the energy that I felt there, as
well as seeing telltale signs of a haunting. The year
was twenty nineteen and I was in my senior year
of college as an elementary education major. In your final semester,
you are with a student teacher and are assigned to
a school. I was assigned to Dakasville Elementary in Pickens County,
South Carolina. I am about to share with you what
I witnessed and heard in this quiet and dark corner
of South Carolina. Upon learning of my assignment, I got
to researching the school, as we are so encouraged to
do because you want to be mentally prepared and you
want to structure your classroom to your student's needs. In
that research, I learned that Dakisville has a very dark,
unsettling history, including its elementary school. As I discovered several
years back that the school experienced the tragedy in which
two students that were siblings were taken home by their
mother after school dismissed. They never returned because their mother
tragically murdered them. Regardless of learning of this tragic and
disturbing news, though, I went into that school with a
heart to teach and the hope to make a positive
impact on the students. Every day, I would arrive early
with the other's staff, and I noticed that it was
always extremely cold in the building, even when the air
was not flowing, and honestly, it was just super cold
in certain parts of the classroom I was teaching in.
It was normal for students and teachers alike to need
a sweater or jacket when in the building. Additionally, I
always noticed lights, in particular hanging polka dots they had
in the entrance way swinging back and forth, but I
never thought anything of it because I was not as
aware of the supernatural at that point, and I just
thought that it was the air conditioning. One afternoon, myself
and the teacher that I was working with and her
assistant were sitting and just chatting after school when we
randomly got into supernatural topics. I shared my first paranormal
experience at what we call Crybebe Bridge in Upstate, referring
to a haunted bridge in Anderson, South Carolina. It's another
story that I'll share another day. After telling my terrifying tale,
they both kind of laughed and then told me, you
know this school is haunted, right And I laughed and said, no,
it's not. I then saw them both look at each
other and they then assured me that it indeed was.
Why do you think it's always cold in the building?
And random lights are flickering and swinging, they said. They
also told me that even the middle school next door
has a ghost of a little girl that they've named Natalie.
I was hesitant to believe, but after my first paranormal experience,
I knew that these things were very real. Needless to say,
these coworkers had my attention. In fact, these ladies were
so excited to talk about the subject of the paranormal
occurrences at the school they took me to other staff
to hear their stories, probably to show me that they
weren't making this up. The school janitors both shared their experiences,
with one mentioning staying later in the evening and seeing
a tall man in a Civil War uniform going in
and out of the classrooms. The other one stayed behind
during a fire drill to clean the bathroom and heard
a little scream saying make it stop, and it sounded
exactly like a student that we were teaching. But the
janitor knew for sure there were no students in the
building or in the bathroom due to them all being
being outside during the fire drill. In fact, he was
even able to video record the voice, and he showed
it to me and I remember the shivers. It gave
me down my spine. The last story that I heard
about that day was a teacher that stayed behind with
her daughter, planning and preparing for a fun lesson the
next day. Everyone had gone home for the day. This
they knew for sure because the building was locked, no
one was in the parking lot, and also the staff
had made sure when she would leave the building that
she would lock the door and engage the security system.
While they were wrapping up their preparations, they heard a
man whistling a tune and footsteps in the distance of
the hallway. The daughter slowly turned to her mother and asked, Mommy,
did you hear that? This staff member said that it
wasn't but two seconds later that they dropped what they
were doing, grabbed their things, and they went home. While
she was telling me this story, an administration staff overheard
and came up and asked, are y'all telling the student
teacher about air? It's kind of like Meredith, but put
an air instead of Mayre at the beginning. ALDA staff
enthusiastically told her yes, and she proceeded to tell me, Yep,
you're gonna see a lot of swinging banners, lights and
polka dots swinging Aradath is what we call the ghost
that hangs onto all the lights. We've even had professionals
come out here, and they've all reported no airflow. I
was honestly too stunned to speak after hearing these stories.
But my whole time there, the lights definitely flickered and
swung aggressively, and I definitely didn't stay long enough in
the evenings to find out if there were any ghost
sightings or hear their sounds of eerie whistling tunes. There
were more occurrences there, for sure, with whatever was dwelling
in that school, and there was an undeniable heavy feeling
upon the building. As amazingly beautiful of a place as
the Greenville, Spartanburg, and Pickens County areas in South Carolina are,
they do have an undeniable haunting history and tear fine tales,
and this is simply the tip of the iceberg of
its haunting past. Before I continue, please consider showing your
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You can also visit me on Patreon, buy me a coffee,
or PayPal and make a donation or become a member
starting at just a dollar a month. You can even
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to the show is the best support of all and
I'm grateful to have you here. Now. Please stay tuned
and I'll be right back. After these brief messages, our
next experience of the night comes to us from Kate,
and Kate's experience is called a Grateful Ghost. Hi. Nick,
I've been listening to your podcast for a few months
now and I've binge listened to all of it. I
really enjoy people's stories and learning about paranormal phenomena such
as the Mothman. I am a true believer of the
paranormal and I have a few stories to share today, though,
I thought i'd share a story that came to mind
when listening to podcasts number three forty one, as the
themes were somewhat similar. All the names in my experience
have been changed. Some years ago, I used to work
in a child protection unit in the UK. I often
worked with a friendly police officer named Jane, and we
would often chat about our past experiences within our respective
careers and home life. One day, she told me of
a very sad case of a child's death. The little
girl was six years old and had been killed by
her mother and stepfather. The death was a shock to everyone,
but also the neighbors of the family. The family were
considered well to do and they lived in a very
prestigious area of the town. The day after the child's death,
Jane was sent to the family home by her sergeant
to collect some When she arrived, the child's clothes, toys,
and life possessions were strewn in the gutter outside the home.
This shocked Jane beyond belief, and it showed what total
disregard the child's mother and stepfather had for her poor life.
Jane had also just had a baby girl herself, so
this really hit home and it upset her. Jane decided
to pick up a toy Teddy Bear, unbeknownst to anyone else,
and she took it to the local mortuary to be
placed with a little girl. Jane didn't want her feeling lonely,
and she never told her work colleagues about this as
she didn't want to get into trouble. Some months later,
Jane attended a Spiritualist church with her friend Jane didn't
really believe in all that, but she'd been persuaded to
go anyway. When she was in a circle at the church,
one woman kept staring at her, and it was making
her uncomfortable. When the session was over, Jane went to
leave hastily, but the woman caught up with her at
the exit. The woman said to Jane, I know you
don't believe in all this, but I have someone here
who is desperate to give you a message. It's a
little girl, and she is thanking you for the Teddy Bear.
She is forever grateful. Jane was dumbfounded and left very quickly.
Needless to say, Jane was then a believer. When she
told me this story, we both sat there and sobbed,
firstly at the cruelty of the incident, but then at
how grateful this little girl was. It just goes to
show that it's the little things that matter the most,
even to those who do not walk this earth anymore.
I have other stories here and there that I'll be
happy to share at some point, but I hope this
story provides some proof that life does go on, and
that our loved ones and those around us never truly
leave us. Our next few experiences come to us from
our TEMI, and their experiences are called childhood. I want
to thank you Nick for giving us all this wonderful
platform to share our experiences with others. It took me
a while, but I managed to get caught up on
all the episodes before offering up my own. I feel
like I have a few experiences that are rarely, if
ever spoken of. My first experience is called childhood memories.
The first memories I can consider being paranormal would be
when I was about five. On my dresser, I had
a can of Lincoln logs, and one night I heard
it shift on its own. I was still too short
to reach it myself, and it was next to my
closed door, so no one could have moved it. This
creeped me out, so my solution was to sleep with
my back to that side of the room from then on.
It worked for a short time, and then one night
I heard another noise, either right behind me or from
under the bed. This time I didn't even bother to
look or guess, and I then put my head under
the blanket. These two instances had me sleeping like this
into my early twenties, whether out of fear or just
growing accustomed to the habit I'll never know. When I
was about eight, we had moved into a new house,
a farm out in the middle of nowhere. I would
live there until I moved out to rent a place
with my fiance at age twenty three. The nearest town
was five minutes away by car, and it was small
at that The house was built in the early nineteen twenties.
Aside from the standard amenities that you would find in
a home, the second floor had been built as a kitchen,
with a door leading out onto the gently sloped roof.
It was an odd thing that it would have a
kitchen on the second floor, and we never really figured
out why. This had long been converted to a standard
bedroom and the kitchen was relocated directly below. There was
also a fully floored attic and a basement with an
old cistern built into it next to the furnace, and
a couple of cement wash basins across from that. While
there was never really a malevolent energy in the home,
some strange things did occur. First of which which my
mom had this horrible picture of a clown that she
wanted hung up in one of our rooms. Even in
the old house. We would always take it down as
it looked like the clown was going to pop out
of the picture and take us into it while we slept.
It was last attempted to be hung up in my room,
and one day the picture just disappeared. My mom didn't
know what happened to it, and she swears that she
never sold it. The second thing to go missing was
my dad's shotgun. My mom didn't like the gun being
out where us kids could get a hold of it. However,
we were all well informed that it wasn't a toy.
My dad made sure that we knew the kind of
damage guns could do and how loud it was. Again,
the shotgun was never sold or stolen, and I kind
of always figured that if we happened to tear into
the walls that we would find one or both inside somehow.
The one time that I felt really uneasy in the
house would be to go into the basement, usually alone,
and smash some cans for recycling. Between the cistern and
the wash basins. I would get a creepy feeling looking
toward the washer and dryer that now stood in that alcove.
I could chalk it up to remembering the scariness of
the boiler scene from home alone too, But even as
I grew up, I would still sense a presence coming
from that direction. I had ended up making a play
room with an old couch and TV down in that
basement in a separate room. I never had any issues there,
but between that door and getting up the stairs, I
often felt watched. The last odd thing that happened. While
the kids of my family lived there was a strange
patch of ceiling outside the master bedroom that would get
discolored and brownish, and it would smell of tuna fish
for several days. Once a year or so, my dad
had washed and disinfected it, repainted it, and even went
to the attic to clear it from the back side,
but it would always show up a year later with
that same smell. Eventually we gave up and just let
it be, as it never really caused any harm other
than the smell. I moved out, my parents would report
new things happening. They had hired a maid to come
in once a week to help keep things clean, and
she became a good friend of my parents while they
lived there. Every so often she would clean the kitchen
and put the chairs back in order before moving on
to the next room. But later she would come back
in and one of the chairs would be pulled out
like you would to sit and lace up your shoes,
or vice versa. Another time, she heard my dad come
in the main door from working outside, and she called
out to him to ask if he had forgotten something.
When no reply came, she went around the house and
found that he wasn't there. A few minutes later, my
dad actually did come back inside, and when she asked
him about coming in before, he didn't know anything about it.
We were all fairly certain that it had to be
an old farmer who had never left, a kindly father,
probably as we suspect that he may have been able
to take the gun away and maybe the painting as well.
We never heard of these kinds of things happening when
us kids were living there. Maybe he did his best
to not scare and upset us. My next experience is
called grandparents House. My grandparents house was a big home
in many ways. It was always full of life, from
raising five kids, taking in a foreign exchange student who
became like family to us, all providing food for hitchhikers
needing a home cooked meal in the sixties and seventies,
hosting aunts and uncles and cousins and grandkids every summer
to sell sweet corn at the roadside stands, and really
just being the center of the family unit. Countless happy
memories still come to me this day, even as they
both have passed on. But despite all that good energy
of devout Christians, there were a few times when I
was there that freaked me out. The first time, I
was in one of the back rooms with my cousins
during the summer, and it must have been about lunchtime
or so. The closet door was open and the bottom
section from wall to wall were dresser drawers tall enough
to be a place to sit if need be. In
front of that is the gap of maybe two inches.
I had looked over, and I saw a huge snake
going across the closet in that space, heading toward the
corner nearest the outer wall. It was the biggest snake
I had ever seen outside of a zoo. When I
felt safe enough to run out of the room, I
told my grandmother and my aunt, but when they checked
the room there was nothing there. I had even checked
some time later and there wasn't even a hole for
it to slither through. The second experience was a lamp
down in the finished basement, next to my grandfather's chair.
I can't recall if it was still a manual knob
on the lamp or if it was a touch lamp.
In either case, though no one was in the corner
as I came down the stairs. When the lamp turned
itself on, I jumped and I ran back upstairs to
tell everyone what I saw, but they just dismissed it.
The third, and perhaps the more questionable of the three,
was when I was in my playroom in the basement.
This was a full half of the full sized basement.
The light at the stairs was a double switch, meaning
that it could be turned on or off from either
switch at the top of the stairs or the bottom.
It became standard practice to flicker it when it was
time to eat, as there was usually someone in the
adult half of the basement, which had a chair for
each of my grandparents, a TV, and also two card tables.
This time, however, it was just me down there and
I was leaving the playroom when I saw the light
turn on, so I went up the stairs to see
what was up. However, no one claimed to have touched it,
and they said that maybe I just thought that it
turned on. Now, it could have just been one of
my cousins that did it just to mess with me.
They were of my older brother's age, and it wouldn't
have been too out of character to tease me and
deny it. However, it was strange. Nonetheless. My next experience
is called church camp. Before I became pagan, I had
spent my youth and teen years going to church camps.
My grandma would often volunteer to cook for the camp,
as that not only kept her involved but encouraged us
kids to participate as well. I enjoyed my time there
and I made a number of friends during that time.
Two events happened when I was about seventeen during the camps,
and this would have been nineteen ninety nine or two thousand.
The first one was during the summer. US older kids
and some of the counselors had decided that we wanted
to go and get ice cream in town, which was
perhaps a ten minute drive. I was still rather new
to driving, and I didn't know the town at all.
GPS and smartphones weren't really a thing then, or were
at least quite rare. To have so. Lacking a map,
I just figured that i'd be able to follow the
other car into town. It was dark out, so it
was likely after nine pm at this point, and the
streets weren't lit all that well. I thought that I
was following just fine, but I must have lost them.
After a turn, I crossed an intersection and suddenly headlights
came on right in front of me. Adrenaline hit me,
and everything seemed to slow down. It was too dark
to really see anything not lit up, but I heard
a nondescript voice in my head tell me to turn
right here. With no time to even process or question it,
I did so, and as luck or fate would have it,
there happened to be an empty parallel parking spot right there,
and just the one. The car that was coming at
me drove past, and after my heart started slowing down,
I noticed the road was a one way and I
was going the wrong way. I turned around and I
tried to continue finding my way to the ice cream place.
At the intersection, I looked for any sign, and I
saw one announcing the change to a one way, but
it was severely stripped of any reflective material. It was
impossible to know without crawling by it, knowing the town
or seeing it in daylight. Well, I got a little
lost and ended up giving up, and I made my
way back to camp about twenty minutes later. The other
group came back after ten minutes, and I told them
that I got lost, but I didn't mention the near accident.
I'm certain that I and my passion would have been
severely injured or killed had I not been told what
to do. The second incident was a bit more spooky
and longer still, and I would like to give a
trigger warning for the mention of suicide in this story.
I think it was early autumn when it was still
quite warm out. A friend wasn't having a good time
of things, and I don't know what was plaguing him
at home or whatever. He just wasn't in a good place.
Some time at or after dinner, he had gone missing.
There was some panic, but we quickly began setting up
search parties. With about forty kids and maybe ten or
so adults. We went out in groups of five or
six each searching certain areas of the camp. It was
a large area, but it was mostly open grass with
bunches of trees spread out. There was an old quarry
that was filled with water, which had a fence around
it and you couldn't really climb it without hurting yourself,
but a group with an adult was sent to investigate.
There was another area near the river that was also
checked out. The surrounding trees if the property were pretty
dense with undergrowth and poison ivy and it wasn't all
that traversible. Another group was sent to check the entrance
of the camp, as that was the only way to
drive or walk in and out of the property. I
was with the group that was sent to search the
area where our vs would sit during family camps, as
well as the old groundkeeper's house back when it had
one on the site. I kept mentioning that we should
be looking up because it wasn't human nature to look
up when looking for something, so if they didn't want
to be found, they would probably climb a tree. The
problem for my group was the trees in my area
were all old growth, with the lowest branch being some
thirty feet up and way too thick to get a
handhold to climb. As we reached the end of our
search zone and were wondering what to do, I suddenly
heard Clara's day, one of the girls say, we found him.
He's over here. I then told my group what I
heard now. Our plan for when he was found was
that we were all supposed to meet up at the
central location, which was the canteen hut. There was a
bell there that we were supposed to ring, so I
high tailed it over there and I rang the bell.
The cord to the bell slipped out of my hands
at first, and I couldn't grab it, so in my exuberance,
I just slapped the bell with my hand to get
it ringing. As the first people started to arrive, and
seeing that I didn't have anyone with me, they asked
me where he was. I then pointed directly at a
specific point in a group of trees across the grass
field that was about one hundred yards away. There was
an old oak tree and a sharp drop off about
ten feet to where we would have our bonfires. Well,
this was actually the place I thought of first when
we were assembling. Where I actually pointed to was to
the right of that oak, about fifty feet where some
smaller trees were. About thirty seconds after that, the group
of girls came walking out near that spot with a
boy in tow they walked calmly toward us. Now, before
I go on, let me make some things clear. The
girl I heard was one of the girls in that
group who found him. What I heard was not a yell,
but it was as if they were speaking right beside me.
A few years after this event, that girl died of cancer.
She also happened to be someone I had mutually agreed
to go to each other's proms together, since neither of
us were comfortable with anyone in our schools. I bring
this up because I think time as we know it
isn't linear, and after she passed on, she used our
connection to send a message into my past, the same
message that let me ring the bell. But now back
to the story. I found out later that he was
planning to hang himself in that tree and saw the
group of girls below him at that moment I had
rung the bell, and it struck him suddenly that we
were searching for him, and that we all cared. He
then dropped down from the tree right in front of
the group and gave up his attempt. We then all
went back to the main building, and the head counselor
and a couple others took him to a private room
to speak to him and to pray over him. Everyone
was elated or crying for a whole range of reasons.
Snacks were set out early, and anything that was planned
was canceled. I don't know how it all began, but
we made our way upstairs to the dorm room hall
and started singing praise songs. It was entirely camper led,
and we joined hands, singing for at least an hour.
At some point I noticed that the kid had come
out of the room and joined us. When I noticed him,
I asked, are you all right? And he said yeah,
with the biggest grin on his face. A short time later,
I noticed my grandma's sitting on the stairs behind us,
just listening to the singing. I left the group and
I sat down next to her, and she gave me
a hug. I then heard another voice in my head
say it's OK. You can let go now. At that point,
a huge weight or tension lifted from me, and I
fell into uncontrollable sobbing. I was happy, tired, sad, and
probably a few more emotions I couldn't put a name to.
I remember several kids stepping back to me and asking
if I was okay. However, the only response I could
give them was a nod of my head. It was
at least ten minutes of this before I could regain
my composure. I don't remember what exactly happened after that.
I think I had something to eat and drink. I
think we all sat in the circle of couches that
we called the pit, and we discussed what happened and
how we felt. However, that could have been the next day,
but regardless, we all eventually shuffled off toward bed, and
while I laid there, I recalled talking about what I
was feeling. I said, I feel like a great evil
is coming and this is only the beginning. I also
recall what I felt. I told my bunk mates that
I felt like I was holding back whatever evil had
visited us, like there was a big wall or dome
over everyone. I said that when I broke down, it
was like someone was taking over the task for me
and it was no longer something that I needed to
concern myself with. I also think that I was keeping
absolutely everything out, which wasn't as helpful as I had intended.
I asked the boy the next day what all happened,
and he didn't really remember anything after coming down from
the tree. I had also gone to look at the
area where he was found and to where I had pointed,
and there was a very climbable tree right there. None
of the other trees were hardy enough to support much weight.
This was actually a turning point in my life. While
I had always had a sense of being a defender,
this was the first time I actually felt like there
was a strength behind that will. The power of will
behind it was impressive. As I found my way to
paganism and exploring what abilities I have and can develop,
this has been my main path of work. I haven't
been able to feel that kind of raw strength in
my ability since, but I had let it go dormant
for years. It is only in the past eight years
or so that I've had to put some serious work
into it to learn to protect my family and my home. However,
that is a much longer story for another day, and
one that I hope to give my best effort to
since I hold it dear to my heart. Let's begin
tonight's journey with Mr, who calls their experience university demon attachment.
M R says, dear Nick, The following is an experience
I had in my third year of undergraduate studies at
university in New Brunswick, Canada, and it spanned a two
year period. I am generally a skeptic. While I have
always wanted to believe, I had never had any personal
experiences before this that I could say for certain were
in fact paranormal and that couldn't be explained rationally until
this experience, and I haven't really had any strong experiences since. However,
I know this happened, and I know it was scary.
It's a long story that has parts to it, so
I will break it into manageable sections. This is the introduction.
After having spent two years in the university dorms, my
dorm neighbor and I were excited to be moving out
on our own. We would have control over our diet
and environment, and it would just feel nice to have
kind of a home away from home rather than that
dormitory institution situation. A friend of mine who had just graduated,
had been living in an apartment above the student run
art gallery, which was down near the train tracks. I
had visited her for dinner a few times, and it
seemed cozy in a run down artistic student sort of way.
I was studying fine arts, and it felt like somehow
this starving artist vibe would, you know, help me be
a better artist. But I was young and had stupid ideas. Anyway,
they were moving out. It was cheap and cool, so
we wanted to move in. I was also dealing with
some spiritual questioning. I had spent the summer reading religious
texts like the Bible and the Buddhist texts, all spurred
on by reading Siddhartha by Hesse and having a battle
with an eating disorder, and still struggling with that. I
was leaning towards the attraction of asceticism. I don't know why,
looking back, I had always had some body image issues
growing up in the nineteen nineties, but also a schoolmate
of mine I grew up in a small town in
British Columbia died of anorexia at the age of fourteen.
I was thirteen, and now knowing that it's a social contagion,
I think this added to that kind of thing. So
while this might seem like an aside, this mindset does
play into the paranormal events that were to occur. The
layout of this apartment was as follows. The art gallery
was below and there were three or four units above it,
side by side, accessed by a long outside staircase and
a deck. The front door of the apartment led to
a long hallway at the end of which was a
small bathroom. On the left of the hallway were three bedrooms.
Mine was first, the second was for a friend who
stayed for a while but then decided to leave because
they liked the dorm better, and the third was my
friend Jays. On the right of the hallway was a
small living area and then a kitchen. The kitchen and
living area were connected by a kind of open pantry.
There were also windows in every bedroom looking out over
the marsh and the train tracks, and windows in the
kitchen and living room. Besides being a little run down
from student use, it was quite roomy and comfortable, as
is common on the East Coast. However, there was a
mildew issue. The bedrooms had mildew on the walls, so
we decided to do a bit of a renovation. This
next part of my story, I'm going to call Kenneth
Jay and I decided to tear down some of the
drywall in our rooms that were moldy. I replastered, albeit badly,
but she never got around to fixing hers, leaving her
wall kind of a lathe and plaster bare. I was
being crazy and I painted my floor an ice brown.
The walls were white, and everything else was clean. I
had a big closet so I could hide everything in there,
but I didn't want to spend money on a mattress,
so I got I got some cinder blocks and a
piece of plywood, and I decided that that would be
my bed to be more ascetic. Now, besides this ascetic
and eating disorder behavior and some emotional difficulties from my
female cycle, I'm a pretty normal person, and despite trying
to access spiritual planes, I was still a skeptic at heart.
My friend, on the other hand, is indigenous, and she
seems to be more in tune with spiritual things. To
my mind, I thought she was making it up a
little bit. That was always my private position when someone
told me about a paranormal experience, I always just kind
of thought they were convincing themselves with their imagination or
wishful thinking, et cetera. Since I never experienced anything for myself,
I figured it was all made up to some degree. Anyway,
I knew my friend was a little gullible in this way.
So when she painted her door and the name Kenneth appeared,
I took it as an opportunity to play a little
joke on her. I said, ooh, maybe your room is
haunt by Kenneth. As an art student, I knew that
if you paint with acrylic over something written in pencil
or pen, the pencil or pen will show through. I
laughed at it, but she took it kind of seriously
on a light level. Now, my friend Jade, to my mind,
was a bit of a scatterbrain, intended to lose things,
including my things, which I found a little annoying. So
when she told me that she'd put a hat or
a scarf for something on her bed and it then
went missing, I just chalked it up to her being
a flake and I didn't think much of it. She, however,
would blame Kenneth, and I would just laugh and encourage
her because I thought it was fun to imagine a haunting.
I've always been fascinated by the paranormal, and I wanted
an experience, so joking about it was as close as
I could get. I figured the first semester was pretty decent.
We had a lot of fun, hosted breakfast parties and
enjoyed our autonomy and besides missing things, everything seemed fine.
But then came the Christmas break disaster. I went home
for Christmas. It's a fourteen hour travel to b C
from New Brunswick, so it's quite a journey, and I
had a good Christmas resting and catching up with my family. However,
the night before I was scheduled to leave home for
school again, a friend of mine called me to tell
me that a very close friend of mine had been
in an avalanche and was on life support. In shock,
I said, oh, my god, is he going to be okay?
But she said no, you don't understand. He's already dead.
I was devastated. I wanted to go down to the
ice you at the hospital and say good bye, but
my mom advised against it. She's not someone that understands
the importance of closure. And also it was night snowing
and a somewhat dangerous drive down to the hospital, plus
I had to leave early the next morning. This was
a friend who had been very close to since I'd
moved to town at the age of twelve. Part of
me was in love with him, and part of him
was in love with me, but we had always been
somewhat star crossed for some reason though, I always had
this feeling about him, like I was worried about him,
and I could never say why. But when this happened,
that feeling made sense. He was only twenty when he died.
We hadn't ended things between us well, and that alone
haunted me. I had to go back to school and
move on, but no one around me knew my friend.
They didn't understand what I was going through. I myself
didn't fully understand how grief works through the body the
way it does at that age, so I felt very
isolated in my grief and it started showing up as
depression and emotional outbursts in my second semester. Because of
my grief, I did a lot of calling out to
the unknown. Part of me asked to join him, and
part of me asked for help from who knows what.
I was very alone and I had no one to
turn to. I didn't think of a counselor or anything.
I just spiraled down into darkness. My work suffered, my
friendship suffered, and I had a really hard time keeping
it together. One night, I decided to cut my hair
really short. It was really long at the time, and
I just decided that I had to cut it off
like it would be cathartic. It only made things worse
and made it harder for me to feel like myself.
I was a mass and I was very vulnerable. Meanwhile,
my friend Jay began to report that she was starting
to feel like something was touching her at night in
her room. This escalated to the point where she was
feeling violated and she was getting scared to go to
bed at night. I was concerned for her. This sounded scary,
but again I sort of thought that this was Attenson
seeking behavior and that it couldn't possibly be real, or
maybe it was a reoccurring dream. This had been going
on for a while and she didn't want to sleep
in her room anymore, so, thinking that sleeping on a
mattress for a change would be nice, I offered to
sleep in her room for her, and despite my horrible
plywood bed, she agreed and thanked me. Now, one thing
that I'd experienced up until this point was that whenever
I had to go to the bedroom in the middle
of the night, I could hear something clicking coming from
her room. I knew that it was likely the baseboard heater,
but it always made me feel uneasy whenever I walked
past her room. But I've always been a little scared
of the dark, so I just figured that that's what
it was. But then came my terrifying experience. So one
night we switched rooms. It was February in New Brunswick,
that means negative forty degree weather, despite it being cold outside,
though we were above the art gallery so it didn't
get too too cold at night in our apartment, and
I often turned the heater down or even off at night.
I did this in her room, and I cracked open
the window about an inch because I liked sleeping in
cooler environments. I was tired and very much looking forward
to sleeping in a comfortable bed. I thought that I
was getting a sweet deal for free. I fell asleep
quite quickly and was very comfortable and happy. I think
my friend also had Christmas lights in the room, and
I'm pretty sure that I left those on as well,
because the ra cozy glow to sleep too. So I
slept soundly until I woke up to the sound of
the heater. Clicking and feeling very hot in the room.
I opened my eyes briefly to check the heater was
off and the window was still open, and both of
these things were as I had left them, but the
heater was clicking anyway. I was so cozy though, that
despite being annoyed by the heat, I fell quickly back
into a doze, and as I was drifting off, I
said to myself, oh, yeah, I forgot about the ghost.
And I then laughed a bit to myself and I
settled my mind back down again. Then I had a
kind of dream. In this dream, I got up to
check the heater and it was on, so I turned
it down and I got back into bed. Then I
heard a voice like a man's voice say, hey, you're
not Jay. I laughed and said, yes, I am. I
just cut my hair. Then the voice said we'll see
about that. At that my mind kind of woke up,
and I said to myself, Okay, very funny, stop making
stuff up, let it go and go back to sleep.
So at this point I was fully mentally awake. I
was lying on my stomach with my head turned to
the right. My right hand was under my pillow and
my left hand was down pulm up alongside my leg.
The door and the heater were on my right, the
window was on my left. This is when I suddenly
felt like something pressed down on the palm of my hand. Now,
at this point, I'm really awake, but I haven't moved yet. Now,
I've had a lot of muscle spasms in the past,
and that's kind of what I felt like this was.
So I quickly told myself it was a muscle spasm,
and I tried to ignore it. But then quite suddenly,
from the bottom left corner of the bed, I feel
something jump onto the bed, about the size of a cat,
and it then ran up to the back of my head.
I was paralyzed with fear at this point, and whatever
this thing was then scratched at the blanket by my
head and it made a growling and hissing noise. I
then felt it leave, like a cat getting off the bed. However,
we never had animals or rats or anything. After it left,
I managed to open my eyes and look around, but
I saw nothing, and I then gathered all my strength
to get up and walk down the hallway, which seemed
like the longest hallway on earth. I felt like I
was going to pass out, and I remember thinking to
myself that my whole perception of existence had just changed forever.
And I ran crying into my plywood bed with my
friend and I told her about what happened. Now, I
assumed that that would be the one and only experience.
I thought that telling my friend and crying about it,
that that would be it an isolated thing. But no,
we both began to feel and sense things right then
and there. It felt like something was trying to touch
our feet, and we both began to hear a voice
in our head that wasn't our own, and it was
saying things in a way that we wouldn't say it.
It was kind of vulgar and masculine. Never in my
life had I experienced anything like this, nor could I
have ever imagined it, having never heard anything like this
or seen anything like this in films. Even we made
it through the night, and we promptly decided to stay
at a friend's house for a while. This friend of
ours dabbled in reikie and tried to cleanse us. However,
she felt quite ill dealing with us, and she had
trouble getting permission from me to cleanse me. I think
that because of the mental anguish that I was in
and my skepticism, my soul wasn't very accessible. My parents
were very understanding and believed us. They thought that we
should move out, but there wasn't much we could do,
having signed a contract and we only had a few
months left of school. So after two weeks we went
back at the apartment and slept in my room together
for quite a while. My friend eventually decided to sleep
in her room once again when she had a boyfriend,
but she still struggled with feeling violated on some nights.
We were vegan at the time, but there were times
in the kitchen where I'd smell rotten meat in places
where it wouldn't be like, not in the fridge, garbage,
or the sink, but just like in the middle of
the room or the pantry, and then it would move around.
One evening, we were having tea at the kitchen table
when a wooden spoon flew out from a container of
utensils on the top shelf. The container was an old
ice cream tub crammed with a bunch of stuff, so
in theory, if one of them were taken out, everything
would spill, But it was just the one spoon and
it clattered to the floor in the middle of the kitchen.
We then yelled stop Kenneth, which probably was not a
good idea. Another time, we were sitting in the living room.
We usually avoided talking about Kenneth by this point because
whenever we did, weird things would happen, or I would
feel like something brushed up against the left side of
my head and it creeped me out. However, this time
we talked about it a little, and we both heard
someone run down the hall like small feet, and then
there was a bizarre swirl of light in the living
room and we both saw it. I had never seen
anything like that before, and we then looked at each
other to confirm that we both experienced it. I slept
in her room again for a few times. I was
surrounded with salt and various amulets for protection. But one
night she saw a large shadow figure and I felt
someone tap me hard on the head another night, even
though my head was covered with my sleeping bag and
there was nothing behind me. Then came the end of
the year and we all happily moved away for the summer,
and for some reason we had plans to return to
the apartment later, or at least I did again. I
spent the summer soul searching, still feeling down and troubled.
This brings us to the following year. Two weeks before
my final year at school, I took a fourteen day
meditation workshop at a Tibetan Buddhist monastery on Cape Breton Island.
It's a beautiful place and an interesting practice, but I'll
focus on the paranormal stuff. While I was there, we
slept in these kind of cubbies on the floor, and
often as I was falling asleep, I would feel something
run up the left side of me and hiss into
my ear. One morning, however, I heard something like this,
but there was a pause in the running. It was
a little different, and when I opened my eyes there
was a chipmunk. I was delighted, and I figured out
that this must have been what was running around at night,
and the hissing sound must have been my imagination. A
friend of mine at the workshop offered to do some
energy work on me, kind of like a past life
regression type thing, after I had told some of them
about my ghost story. This was an interesting experience, but
again I was skeptical The night after that happened, though,
I had a really terrifying dream. In the dream, I
was in a room and I saw my friend who
had passed away. I was so happy to see him.
I ran to him and hugged him and I was
going to kiss him, and I was crying with joy
to see him. But as we were hugging, I remembered
that he was dead, and I pulled away to see
this large baby type figure. It kind of had a
huge head, big red lips, and sharp teeth. It was
kind of a baby shaped head, but big, like over
half its whole size. It had large, bluish, creepy eyes,
and it was wearing a kind of diaper. I was terrified.
I screamed and tried to turn on the light, but
it didn't work and I woke up. However, I woke
up into a different dream. And this happened over almost
five different dream levels. I would wake up startled but
happy that this was just a dream. I'd feel uneasy
and try to turn on a light, but then the
light wouldn't turn on, and then I would encounter something crazy,
and then I would wake up into a different dream.
This all happened until morning, when I finally woke up.
I believe that what I saw was the shape of
this demon thing that seemed to be following me, But
it was just a dream. Right. Well, when I eventually
got back to school, I realized how awful the apartment was,
almost like I had a spell on me before that
I couldn't see how horrible it was when I first
moved in, and I just had to get out of there.
I found a really nice, almost new apartment above the
post office, and I got to live alone, which was
nice because I was having such a hard time dealing
with other people in my emotional state. I enjoyed being
alone and having my own space. I was still sleeping
on the floor, though, but mostly because it seemed wasteful
to spend three hundred dollars on a mattress which I
would only be using for one year. Back in the
two thousands, this was a lot of money. Well, one day,
when I was all set up in my new apartment,
I got home and closed the door and I said
to myself, phew, I'm all alone now. But then a
voice that wasn't my own in my head said, except
for me. I quickly told myself, however, that I made
that up and to ignore it. I still would get
this chill on the left side of my head occasionally,
and I couldn't talk about the experience without feeling spooky,
so I would avoid it. However, nearly every night, as
I was just falling asleep, I would feel something run
up my left side and hiss in my ear. This
was not a chipmunk. I guess I just got used
to this. But my mood remained low and I remained
in a dark place. And while I was always interested
in dark topics and the paranormal, like X Files type things,
I was not a dark person. So this was hard.
I didn't feel like myself. I felt very lost, classic
twenty one year old I know, but still it was
a hard time. As I said, I just kind of
lived with this thing and I tried to ignore it.
It didn't bother me too much. I had bad dreams,
but maybe I didn't think my mood could be linked
to it. Finally, I graduated and I moved back home.
I started exercising, mountain biking and rock climbing. These things
got my mind off everything. But as with all exercise,
one gets sore, and a massage is a good idea,
and my right shoulder muscle had been bothering me. My
mom had seen a massage therapist in town and had
recommended her highly. In my mind, Mom, who barely believes
in anything, said that this woman was a little weird.
She had kind of read my mom's mind about a
symbolic dream that she'd had about a raven. My mom
was a bit taken aback by that, and she said
that it was interesting. I actually didn't give it much thought, though,
since a lot of people seem to pretend to be mediums,
and I'd seen some people about tarot and palm reading
and stuff since, and they all seem to be pretty inaccurate.
So I was just in it for the massage. She
was indeed a good messuse, and I was enjoying the experience.
When she asked me what was up with my left shoulder,
I was surprised and a little annoyed because it was
my right shoulder muscles that were actually bothering me. So
I just told her that my shoulder muscles were always tense,
but that it was my right shoulder that was causing
me trouble. But then she said, I'm not talking about
your muscles there's something on your left shoulder, a presence.
I see it like a kind of mist. What is that?
I was so shocked, and I then told her my story,
and she then told me that it was likely a
gollum that had attached itself to me and was sucking
my energy. She then muttered some words over me and
told me that that evening I was to tell this
thing that it wasn't welcome, and to go into the
light and to surround myself with light, et cetera. So
I did what she said. As I did this, I
felt it resist. I could hear it again, and I
felt the left side of my head tingling. I was scared,
but she said not to be scared. So I tried
really hard to just be firm, and after a bit
of a storm, I've never felt it again since. I
know this story was a little long, but I think
it's important to share all the details so that people
understand that these things are not made up. They really happen,
and there really is another dimension out there. I just
can't explain it any other way. I haven't had many
experiences since I believe that a part of myself has
closed itself off from other realms due to the fear
I curienced, but I believe that's okay. Thank you so
much for reading and sharing if you do, and everyone's
stories are truly fascinating. Kind regards, Mr. Our next experience
comes to us from J and Jay's experience is called
a Dream that became a luxury carmaker commercial. Jay says,
I'm originally from Venezuela. When I was about eighteen years old,
I had one of the most vivid and extraordinary dreams
of my life. It began with me walking into a
foggy tunnel, thick with vapor and almost impossible to see throw.
As I moved forward, I began to hear distant voices.
They were muffled and hard to understand, but as I
got closer, I realized they were talking about someone who
was coming to join them. That someone was me. As
I approached, there was an explosion of joy. Cheers erupted,
and people jumped around with excitement. I saw five or
six young men all around my age at the time,
and they were genuinely thrilled to see me. I had
never felt such pure happiness, except perhaps when I reunite
with family. These people embraced me asking why it had
taken me so long to arrive. However, I was too
stunned by their welcome to even respond. We began to
move and talk, and I realized that we were floating
in the clouds. It sounds strange, but that's exactly where
we were. Everyone was doing silly, joyful things. One person
was meditating on a small cloud in the lotus position
like a Buddha. Another was swimming through the clouds, and
someone else struck a superman flying pose. The atmosphere was
filled with laughter, playfulness, and an overwhelming sense of love,
joy and belonging. It was a feeling that I have
never experienced again. Suddenly I noticed a break in the clouds.
Sunlight poured through, illuminating a breath taking valley below. I
can't even describe the colors, the temperature, and the sensations.
Though it was a dream. I could hear speak and
feel the air on my skin, the texture of my clothes,
and I could see colors that I have never seen before.
It was like watching a movie, not in four K,
but in sixty K. The valley was lush with vivid
green grass, a winding creek, and a road that followed
the creek's path. My companions decided to descend and have
fun in the cars that were driving below. We jumped
from the clouds, and the fall gave me that stomach
dropping sensation of a roller coaster. However, I had full
control of my descent. My friends were diving like superheroes,
doing flips and imitating Olympic swimmers. It was exhilarating. We
screamed and laughed all the way down. It was pure
joy and happiness. Even during the dive. I could feel
layers of warm and cool air brushing through my hair,
flapping my clothes. When we reached the level of the cars,
we flew around them, and strangely, the people inside didn't
notice us. We were invisible to them. I flew between
a car and the creek, and just as the car
hit a pothole filled with water, it splashed into my face.
My companions burst into laughter, and so did I. It
was pure joy. Then I woke up. The moment I
opened my eyes, I was hit with a deep sadness.
I was back in this reality where we lived like
prisoners in our own bodies. I felt confined, no longer
free like I had been with those people. If you
had asked me then whether I wanted to return to
my normal life or stay in that dream, I would
have said with absolute certainty that I wanted to stay.
I belonged there. I was loved and accepted for who
I was. Now, I've had happy moments in my life,
like the day that my son was born, but nothing
compares to the love, acceptance, and sense of belonging that
I felt in that dream. For years afterward, I struggled
with depression, longing to feel that way again. However, here's
the strangest part about thirty five years later, now living
in the US, I was watching TV when a BMW
commercial came on. It was called the BMWX five Guardian Angels.
To my shock and horror, the commercial depicted my dream.
Every detail was there, even an angel getting splashed in
the face with water, just like me. How is that
even possible? How could a dream that I had at
eighteen while living overseas appear in a US commercial decades later?
You can find it on YouTube by searching BMWX five
Guardian Angel TV commercial. This experience was so profound that
I showed the video to my wife, so she watched
it and she said something that sent chills down my spine.
She said, look at the angels. Look at the one
who got splashed. He looks just like you when you
were younger. If what you're saying is true, that angel
is you. They are depicting you in your dream. I
was overwhelmed with emotion and I started to cry. I
just don't know how to explain it. I'm not losing
my mind. I remember telling my mom about the dream,
and she suggested that it was maybe an astral projection,
which was a term I didn't understand back then. So
how did this happen? It feels unreal? What kind of
mysterious twist is this? If any of your listeners have
an explanation or have experienced something similar, I would love
to hear from them. Thank you, Nick for your program.
I listen every chance I get, and thank you to
your listeners. I truly feel as though we are part
of a community for anyone interested. I've added a link
in the show notes to the commercial that Jay mentioned.
Our next experience comes to us from Age G and
their experience is called he Just Knows Hei Nick. I
want to start with a little background. I have always
believed and had many experiences that I consider paranormal, but
nothing perplexes me more than the oddities with my son.
I have four sons, but the oldest, i'll call him R,
has always had an uncannyability where he just knows things
that he shouldn't. The first instance was when he was three.
We had gone on a beach vacation with my in laws.
My husband and I took R out to the beach
alone on the first afternoon and we had a blast.
He couldn't wait to go back the next day with
his grandparents and baby brothers. It rained some through the night,
but the morning was perfect. R, however, was adamant that
we could not go to the beach because there were
alligators in the water. We tried to reassure him, but
he wasn't having yet. So we went to the beach
and R refused to go anywhere near the water. My
husband brought the twins in the water, and R went
into a panic so bad that we decided to pack
up and leave. As we were walking to the car,
a man approached us and told us that while he
was fishing on the pier, he saw that an alligator
was stocking My husband and my twin babies up and
down the beach. Animal control was then called and the
alligator was caught and relocated. However, there was absolutely no
way that R could have known anything about this. The
next incident happened a few weeks later. We were going
to visit family and R said, Mama, we can't go
this way. The bridge is broken. I then assured him
that it wasn't and even made a point to call
my cousin, who was the county supervisor, to make sure.
He assured R that the bridge was safe. So we
get to the bridge and we find that the bridge
had shifted and there was now a two to three
foot gap between the bridge and the land on our side.
I called my cousin back and he sent out a
crew to inspect it, and the bridge stayed shut down
for nearly five years. Incident happened when he was five.
My husband and I had been trying for one more baby,
and I had just found out that I was pregnant.
When we told the boys, R said that he was
sad because he wanted a sister and that she was
going to go back to heaven instead of being born naturally.
This upset me, but I tried not to believe that
he was right. Fifteen weeks into the pregnancy, it happened
the baby passed, and we found out that she had
had a trisomy thirteen and that she wouldn't have been
able to survive long had she been born, and that
most babies with this condition don't survive in the womb.
Somehow R knew that she wouldn't be born, but we
did go on to be blessed with our last and
final child, a fourth boy, a year later. R is
older now, he's about to be twelve, and he still
retains his unusual insights, although spacifics are less frequent now
and it's usually just a very strong intuition. He's also
had many paranormal experiences of his and he also claims
to see and hear shadow people. But I always have
as well, so I don't doubt his claims. I'll come
back another time, though, and share more of those stories.
Our next experience of the night comes to us from Charity,
and Charity's experience is called sleep Paralysis demon Stole My Babies.
Charity says, Hello, Nick, I just recently started listening this
summer after I found your podcast while doing a search
for Ashley Inks recordings. Where I was looking to tell
my story. My oldest son and I are hooked now,
and he keeps telling me to submit my story here
as well. I've been trying to do so for two
months now, but every time something has come up that
distracts me. I'm not quite sure how to explain that,
other than it slightly ties into the main topic, which
I will be getting to first though, before I begin in.
I was recently listening to episode four forty two about
the Little Blue Beings, and I have to start there.
To preface, I can count a specific number of times
I have experienced any kind of sleep paralysis, and it
all began with Little Blue Beings. In late two thousand
and nine, my husband and I were crashing at my
inlass house for a few months while we were waiting
for the people who were renting our house while I
was in graduate school in another state to move out
when their lease was up. One morning, right before sunrise,
I woke up and I could not move anything except
my eyes, just like the person described in episode four
forty two. I mentally tried to fight this, and finally
I was able to slightly roll to my left side.
I was on the left side of the bed, which
was about eighteen inches from the wall. Standing next to
me in that space between the bed and the wall
were three beings. Like the story says in episode four
forty two, they were small, maybe three feet tall, with
large heads and big black eyes. They were all looking
at me, and one had a hand touching my arm,
which was covered by a comforter. I attempted to reach
out towards them to make sure that I was actually
seeing what I was seeing, and that is when they
all backed up and into the wall. It looked like
they literally dissolved into the wall. At that point, I
was able to sit up and I started touching the
wall trying to see where they went. My husband then
woke up and asked me what I was doing, and
I told him I'm trying to figure out where they went. Now,
he's a hardcore skeptic, and he thinks that I was
just dreaming. But I was absolutely wide awake for the
entire interaction. I had never woken or seemingly woken up
and not been able to move prior to this incident.
So I'm calling this my first episode of sleep paralysis,
even though I was no doubt awake for it. Also,
I had never heard anyone describe these beings like I
saw them until I heard that episode of your podcast.
Everyone that I told that story to always assumed that
I meant more of the Gray's type of description, where
they are tall or humanoid and gray or even green.
I was shocked to finally hear someone describe them exactly
how I had seen them and experienced them. I felt
a bit justified, if I do say so myself. So
thank you to that listener and for you for telling
the story. That was my only interaction with them, however,
or at least so far. About a month later, I
had my next sleep paralysis incident, specifically where you're awake
but not awake. I mentally woke up and everything was
exactly how it was supposed to be. My husband was
asleep next to me, the night stand was on the
other side of me, and the room was how it
was when I went to sleep. However, I could not
move at all, and there were tiny red demon like
creatures that were crawling all over me and they were laughing.
They were biting my toes, scratching my legs, and pinching
me everywhere else. I tried to scream or move, but
I couldn't. It felt like in some of those shows
where suddenly your mouth is gone or even stitched shut. Finally,
I'd apparently made enough garbled noise that it woke my
husband up, who then shook me, and I was able
to break out of whatever was going on with me.
But again, I know I was not fully asleep because
I saw my husband from the corner of my eye
wake up and then shake me before the creatures actually disappeared.
I was afraid to go back to sleep that night
with just cause because once I did, it happened all
over again one more time. I cannot explain what exactly
it was that happened that night, but I have not
liked sleeping in my in law's basement ever since, and
when the morning came, I did have unexplained marks all
over me. This brings me to the next portion of
my story, where the sleep paralysis demon comes into play,
and I have to issue a disclaimer here. This part
of my story discusses pregnancy loss, which could be triggering
for some listeners to start. My husband and I tried
unsuccessfully for a few years to have children. After so
long of constant disappointment, we finally had medical intervention starting
in early twenty twelve. Almost immediately after starting medicine, I
became pregnant. We were very surprised and elated, especially since
my husband had broken his leg not long before we
found out, so it was nice to have something exciting
to look forward to. Unfortunately, though, it ended up being
an ectopic pregnancy and it was not viable. I was
around seven weeks pregnant. However, the day before I found
this out, I had my first sleep paralysis demon episode.
I was in that same state where you're awake but
not awake. Everything was in its exact place around me,
husband and dog included, and I could not move at all.
My first thought was back to the little Blue being
and the little red demons. But then before I could
give it any more thought, a very large and dense
shadow figure came up next to me. This was the dark,
beyond dark kind of figure, the kind that no light
can penetrate. It loomed over me for a moment, and then,
with its i'll say appendage since it wasn't really a hand,
it reached into my abdomen and began almost digging around.
It seemed immediately all I could feel was excruciating pain.
Then just as quickly as it came, it slunk off
and I was released from the paralysis. The next day,
I found out that my pregnancy was not viable. Later
that same year, in early fall, I was finally pregnant
once again. My numbers were looking great, I felt great,
and everything was good. But then it happened again. He
came back. I don't know how I know that it's
a he, I just do, and he repeated the same process.
The very next week, my doctor told me once again
that I was losing my pregnancy at eleven weeks. This time,
I was devastated, and I just chalked the sleep paralysis
demon off to my mind, trying to subconsciously help me
cope with the losses. Then two months later, right after Thanksgiving,
I was pregnant for the third time. I just knew
in my gut that this one was going to be okay.
I can't explain how I knew, I just did. It
was then that I began seeing my deceased grandmother everywhere.
She had died when I was fourteen, but prior to
that we were super close. She was such an amazing woman,
and even now over thirty years later, I still miss her.
I never saw the sleep paralysis demon during that pregnancy,
but I did see clear as day my grandmother standing
over my ultrasound photos one evening early on in the pregnancy,
and she was pointing at them and smiling at me.
I turned to ask my husband if he could see her,
but when I turned back around, she was gone. It
meant so much to me that that happened. I am
not a religious person, but I do believe in spirits
and parallel planes or even dimensions. To see her there,
almost as if she was claiming protection over my baby,
meant the world to me, even after twenty years at
that time of her being gone. During labor for my son,
at the end of that pregnancy, in the summer of
twenty thirteen, a nurse came into my room and stopped
short and gasped. She then asked me who the woman
was that was sitting next to me in the chair
by my hospital bed. However, there was no one there.
The chair was empty. So I asked her to describe
the person that she was seeing, and she perfectly described
my grandmother. And she said that she was sitting next
to me and beaming at my son. So I like
to think that my son definitely has his own guardian angel.
A little bit of time later, my husband and I
were trying for another baby. In both January in July
of twenty fifteen, I was pregnant again, and both times
the incident occurred with the sleep paralysis demon, and I
again lost both pregnancies. I was shocked and once again devastated.
That September, I became pregnant again. It all happened for
the third time that year in November, when I was
twelve weeks a long, except this time when the demon came,
I was ready pissed off and I was determined. I
fought with everything I had in my mind to get
my body to move, and somehow I did it. I
fought it off. However, it had substance. I was not
expecting that, but I think I must have caught it
off guard or something, because as quickly as I touched it,
it became like smoke or a mist. It was still
a solid darkness, but it had no substance, and then
it retreated once again. The next night, I woke up
and I knew something was a miss. However, I went
to use the restroom around midas night and I discovered
that I was bleeding. I started to freak out and
I called out to my husband. He rushed me out
the door and I was off to the hospital. However,
he had to stay home with our older kiddo. When
I got there, they performed all of the necessary tests,
but of course they couldn't tell me anything because none
of them were my actual doctor. I had to wait
four hours on the edge of my seat for my
doctor to walk downstairs from the maternity ward to the
emergency room. Turns out I was in the beginning stages
of placenta previa, where basically things are separating from where
they should be. So I was put on bed rest
for two weeks, and at the two week mark I
was cleared. However, it was such a difficult pregnancy. I
had numerous complications and I almost lost my second son
two more times. That March, during Easter weekend, we were
at my in laws house. I was looking at a
picture on the wall and I noticed someone standing behind me.
I knew exactly who it was when I saw him,
and I very audibly gasped, which got the attention of
everyone in the realm, and of course, when I turned around.
There was no one there behind me. Whom I had seen,
though clear as day, was my husband's birth father. He
had died in a plane crash when my husband was
only two and a half years old. When I glimpsed
him in the reflection of the glass, he was smiling
at me, and I felt a kind of peaceful reassurance
wash over me, and lo and behold. My second son
was born the following spring in twenty sixteen, so I
suppose it safe to hazard a guess that both of
my boys have a guardian angel watching over them. After
my second son was born, I was pregnant three more times,
twice in twenty eighteen and once in twenty nineteen, but
sadly the demon won each of those battles. Like I
stated earlier, though I don't know if this was just
my subconscious telling me in its own way that my
pregnancies were not viable, or if this is just one
of those unexplainable paranormal experience and says, I hadn't had
a single sleep paralysis episode since that last pregnancy that
I lost until recently. I also mentioned earlier that I'd
been trying to type this up but kept getting distracted.
Every time I would sit down to type this up,
something would come up, to the point where even my
oldest son noticed. Then one night, I fell asleep while
trying to type this up on my phone. And it
may not come as a surprise as to who paid
me a visit that night. You guessed it the sleep
paralysis demon. Oddly enough, he was going after my phone
this time. I fought hard and kept trying to say no,
and then finally it ended he was gone and I
was released. My husband then startled me and asked me
if I was okay. I thought he'd been asleep, but
he apparently saw my whole struggle. He said that my
eyes were open and I kept twitching and grunting, but
he couldn't get my attention for a moment. He said
that finally he shook me enough that I snapped out
of it. That was just two weeks ago, right before Halloween.
Even now, I try to submit my story via your
website and it just kept having errors, so I am
attempting to send this via email instead. I just want
to say thank you. If you end up reading my story,
and if someone hears it that has gone through something similar,
I hope that it helps someone know that they're not alone.
Thank you for sharing and giving everyone a place to
feel open and free to tell our stories. And I
hope everyone has a great holiday season. I hope you
enjoyed tonight's episode, and I'd like to once again remind
each and every one of you how much I appreciate
you listening and supporting the show. Your kindness and willingness
to keep an open mind is what drives me to
continue the podcast, and I know that twenty twenty six
will prove to be yet another fascinating year of paranormal mysteries,
and I look forward to beginning my tenth season the show.
In the meantime, please keep sharing your experiences and I'll
be back in just a few days with more tales
of the unexplained, And until then, I hope you have
a safe and happy New Year. In