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(Fark)   Annual Halloween "Tell your real ghost/scary stories" thread   (fark.com) divider line 422
    More: Scary  
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4071 clicks; posted to Main » on 31 Oct 2006 at 10:59 AM (8 years ago)   |  Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook   more»



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2006-10-31 06:18:50 PM  
In a moment of extreme emotional anguish my best friend wanted to visit her teenaged brother's grave. I drove with her to the cemetary & waited in the car while she walked the 40 yards to the grave. It was raining heavily and she was outside for maybe 20 minutes. When she returned to the car & got back in she was completely dry. It was still raining.
 
2006-10-31 06:21:49 PM  
GoSurfing
Geez. How about going back under that bridge of yours?
 
2006-10-31 06:24:39 PM  
Just so you know arghyematey....I apologize. You don't have to respond with a post...because I'm sorry. I'm genuinely sorry for what I've said. See this is a very bad habit of mine...I go apeshiat with anger and I start insulting perfect strangers who didn't do anything wrong to me in any way shape or form. Just sorry dude, caught me at the wrong time. I can agree with you that if there is a day for a thread like this: it is today and I should enjoy the stories people have shared, etc. Peace...
 
2006-10-31 06:26:06 PM  
Whatever
Geez. How about getting a more creative login?
/what did you just get done watching Clueless?
 
2006-10-31 06:26:41 PM  
clevergrrl

Happens to me all the time, and there's one on my way home from the gym that I knock out every single time I pass it.

It's supposedly called Street Light/Lamp Interference.

http://www.wintersteel.com/SLIders_Phenomenon.html
 
2006-10-31 06:27:03 PM  
Okay I've got a weird story.

Sometimes I have these really vivid dreams, like I'm in them. And, sometimes, they actually happen. I've come to call them "prophetic dreams." Anyway, when I was a sophomore in high school, I was cutting some summer sausage for a party, and I cut my finger. (I'm a clumsy idiot) I was at a Boy Scout camp at the time, so I couldn't get to the hospital. I cut it so deep that it would require stitches. So my parents come and pick me up and take me to th ER. The doctor cleans my finger, then gives me a local anesthetic. It hurt like hell, and my eyes were closed. What's weird is that remember having this dream, where I had this sharp pain in the same finger, the index finger of my right hand. I've never experienced anything quite like it since.
 
2006-10-31 06:27:49 PM  
Er, wrong link.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Street_Light_Interference
 
2006-10-31 06:31:23 PM  
Late to the party and Happy Halloween, everyFARKer..!

Just to get in on the thread, here's one of my own unexplained stories (out of many, but this is one of the earliest and sticks most strongly with me).

When I was young (9 - 15, roundabouts), my parents would take the family..mom, dad, me, younger brother..camping/cottaging every year at the very end of the season, so as to get better locations at lower rates. Invariably, we'd go with a couple or couples that were friends of the family and it would be a nice group-event weekend or longer.

One particular couple..Dave and Karen..went along every year and my father and Dave were, and are, fast friends.

The year of this story, we were in a cottage on a small lake (about 2 miles in diameter) during a near-perfect autumn in, I think, the Southern Tier/Finger Lakes region of Western New York. It was only my family and Dave and Karen, this year.

One thing that is of importance to relate is that Dave and my father fancy themselves amateur architectural buffs and love looking at vintage/old/historical buildings/houses.

Bear with me here...

Often, camping/cottaging as late in the season as we did, the 'regulars' would already be gone for the season. Summer homes, fishing cottages and the like would be prepped for the winter and locked up for the season..awaiting the return of the owners the following spring.

To my father and his friend, "looking" meant breaking in to fully check the place out. Never did they do damage, or tamper or take anything..they just found the most interesting deserted home, picked the lock or the latch, let themselves in and looked at all the original woodwork or styling or whatever..then lock everything back up, as it was, when they left.

I don't recall how old I was, but this particular year it was apparently decided that my brother and I were old enough to tag along for the house they'd singled out, halfway around the lake.

I remember everything very vividly..from the outside appearance to the door wee entered to the whole of the interior. The rear door was locked with a padlock through a bar latch. However, the securing screws for the bar latch were exposed, rather than covered by the bar..three phillips-head screws out and we were in.

We wandered about the ground floor..I recall the place being a bit musty and darkish, but very nice..if cluttered. There were some comic books lying about, which delighted me, so the owner must have had children.

It took a few minutes, but my father noticed something seemed not-quite-right..it took a bit, but it was realized from an almost inaudible background hum that the fridge was still running. Looking inside it revealed about a half-case of unopened Labatt's beer bottles..and indication that the place may *not* be closed for the season, obviously.

Oh, well..the adults think..we're already here, haven't seen any cars or activity the past couple days, and only have the upstairs to look at..may as well finish up..

So we head upstairs..the layout is simple: Stairway goes up one side of the house and tops off at one end of a hallway that traverses the length of the building. It is the only way up or down. Off this hallway, all to the left, are four evenly spaced doors.

We enter the first room. It's empty save for a MASSIVE brass bedframe. No boxspring or mattress, just the frame..and by massive, I mean just that. My father and Dave marveled over the solidity and craftsmanship of the thing. Wide, high head and footboards with corner-posts that only barely fell short of making it a full-blown four-poster bed..and all welded; no screws/nuts/bolts..the thing was either assembled in the room or the room was built around it. There was absolutely no way it was brought, complete, into that room..I doubt it would fit through patio doors iff'n the entire door assembly was taken out in advance to clear more space.

So, they ooh and ahhh over the brasswork a bit more and we move on to the next room..which is totally empty. Move to the third room..which is totally empty. It's becoming clear the family only really uses the ground floor while they stay here.

We're getting ready to move to the last room when there's this sudden, loud crash. First thought in all minds: the owners are back and we're waaaaaay busted.

My father moves to the head of the stairs..looks down..goes down..nothing. Nobody there, nothing obviously out of place (from what was remembered, walking in), nothing. Shrugs all around..head off to room four, with the general feeling of 'let's look at this final room, then get out before we really get caught.'

We enter the final room to find it completely empty..save for a huge, welded brass bedframe.

Father looks at Dave, he looks back, Dave runs out of the room and down the hall. A moment later we hear him cry out and we all run back down the hall to the first room..which is now empty.

I don't actually remember us getting out of the house, but I know it was fast and I know they didn't bother to screw the latch back on. To this day, my father and Dave with both acknowledge the event..but won't talk about it and my brother doesn't recall it at all. As far as best I know, that was the last 'house inspection' that they ever attempted.

Trick or Treat..? For me, I somehow think it ended up being both....
 
2006-10-31 06:36:33 PM  
Whatever-
In case you haven't noticed, I'm not serious. I'm just "joshing" you. Everybody in Farkistan is a big happy family. The bridge is very lonely. Only the rats are my friends. My poopy pants don't smell really good now and my tummy could use some vittles.
 
2006-10-31 06:43:21 PM  
I have no ghost stories, although my wife claims to have seen a bipedal ghost cat in her parents' living room at night, and won't sleep there because she thinks it has tried to kill her through suffocation. The creepy part is that my wife told her mother the story before she knew her mother had experienced the same thing and wouldn't sleep there for the same reason. They don't own cats.

Fantastic stories. I've had the chills for an hour reading them.

/props to the guy who had nightmares from the dark crystal. i had horrible ones about the bird thingies.
 
2006-10-31 06:45:27 PM  
X1's Here

Dude I have the same problem with light bulbs. My roommate in New York replaced all the incandescent bulbs in our apartment with fluorescent ones because he was tired of changing them every week or two. I knocked out the one in the laundry room at least once a week. And it's happened in every apartment I've lived in, although some light fixtures are worse than others. I have a floor lamp in my room that goes out twice a month, and only when I turn it on, the light blows out.

I have no problems with electronics tho, thank God.
 
2006-10-31 06:58:58 PM  
Lt. Col. Angus

I've seen it myself...freaky deaky.
 
2006-10-31 07:05:35 PM  
Lights burning out and exploding happened to me and my sister so frequently when we were younger we just laughed. When we we angry or emotionally "up" it happened more often. Streetlights happened so much I just finally concluded it was coincidence.

For a number of years my mom couldn't wear a watch -- they would stop.
 
2006-10-31 07:06:22 PM  
Back when I was a kid, this serial killer wearing a hockey mask killed off all the neighbors as well as my mom. Fortunately, I was able to kill him off with a machete.

Years later, I kept having hallucinations that this killer came back, and while I was at a half-way house for troubled teens, a copycat killer used the same M.O.

A while after that, I was released from a mental hospital with my sidekick who looked a lot like Horshack. I wanted to make sure the killer was dead for sure, and in doing so, I accidently brought him back to life during a lightning storm. Fortunately, I was able to drown him by chaining his body to a boulder.
 
2006-10-31 07:07:20 PM  
CAT-LIKE TYPING DETECTED

Cool story! I know I should be printing some of these out to share with the boys tonight.
 
2006-10-31 07:10:10 PM  
Wow too Many Great Stories

I have a couple

gh0str1der -- I almost was kidnapped as well around 7yrs of age the man offered me oreo cookies and got in his car but escaped when he tried to drive off.

Okay Ghost Stories

1. My friend from London told me this one. London is a very old city and has thousands of years of history. Anyways his brother was farking around at night with his buddies and was on his way home from a pub he decides to pee on a tree on the way. (In our a culture its a big no no) Well he does and that instant he see's a cat walk by. He doesn't worry about and goes home. That night he has a dream about the same event and wakes up in the morning to find. Droppings all across the house and stuff is thrown around.

They think its a break in and call the cops. Next morning same happens droppings and all. Also other happenings are blankets get taken off them lamps are re arraigned and the droppings re-appear. The call the cops again and have the dropping examined since they have no smell but odd texture. The test are inconclusive the whole family is freaked out and invited a local Imam to look at the house he refuses to enter the home. Another Christian priest is invited he also feels an odd presence and marks the home as tainted. The family is utterly freaked out and leave out of the country. The brother stays behind but refuses to live in the home. After 2 months they return and things are back to normal.

2. My friend is a big prankster and there is an old cemetery close our house in Houston Tx it looks abandoned so he decides to prank so friends and makes a grand plan. He gets some guys before hand to stake out at the cemmetry and gets them dress in white robes. He then tells a batch of 15 guys that he has to do a docummentary for school and is scared to go alone and would like their help. So they all follow him and a few others that are in on the joke. As the are walking in the guys that are staking out see them and stand still in their robes. One of the guys following see something but thinks its nothing. Then he goes " I think its moving" and then they point the flash light around and there is another guy in robes. The Hilarity.... Everyone runs for dear life out of the cemmetary. On a sad note one of the guys ran across the 6 lane busy road to get back to his car across the street as he crossed a car hit him and he went flying into the air. Luckily he survived and nothing major happened to him. As for the pranksters they learned their lesson as well. But still the funniest shiat ever to see grown men run.

3. This is just a weird odd happening...

I was around 8 yrs old and my uncles decided to take me to the beach (3rd world country) We were on a motorcycle and were happily going on our way when a 18 wheeler (we call they lorries) wanted to avoid a pot whole in his lane and switched to ours. Well to avoid this a$$hole my uncle had to run the bike of the road. The bike flew up in the air and landed on my leg giving me burn scars and stitches.

That same day my father (he was in a diff country on business) was out with his friends on a beach and a mini Tsunami hit. Most of his friends drowned and he was saved by a fishing boat. The tsunami and dragged everyone into the open sea and no one knew how to swim including my dad. Thank fully we both were safe.
 
2006-10-31 07:10:11 PM  
Cool, I love the annual fark ghost stories thread... gonna bookmark for later readings when I have the time. Gonna make me some hot chocolate and dim the lights ;) For the rest of the year, if you want more real ghost stories, there's this site that is worth going to.
 
2006-10-31 07:11:16 PM  
A little late to the thread but I'm enjoying it. And I figured I'd add my own :)

When I was younger my parents were missionaries in East Africa. My dad's primary job was to help train Africans to become ministers and in turn these new ministers would start churches in their villages. Once a large enough congregation was established my dad would help the church raise money to build a permanent building. Typically they tried to find people in the village that could provide local materials, for instance some tribes made fired bricks from clay so they would contract with the locals to make bricks for the church. However one big problem in the remote villages was getting wood. There was no electric power, let alone modern saws for cutting large planks. Having the locals cut wood by hand wasn't really an option because they couldn't get the measurements precise enough. Hand cut wood works for a small hut, not as well for a larger building. So typically my dad would just take the money and have wood shipped in.

(sorry for all the back-story!)

So there was occasion where this happened as I described above, remote village, 200 miles from the nearest electricity. Dad had 10 contractors from the states and he had already had everything shipped in so the contractors could come in and put the building up as quickly as possible. They had about a week to get it done. When they got there they found that someone had stolen part of their wood. Not good. The contractors put the building up anyway and got part of the roof done before they ran out. Meanwhile my dad began searching the area for enough wood to finish the project. He searched for 3 days, but no one had more than a few pieces of wood, all locally produced so it suffered from the problems I mentioned above.

Finally my dad was about to give up ... he was walking into the unfinished building when a man stepped out. My dad had been working in the village for a long time and had never seen this man before. The man told him that he had wood. So my dad and the man got in the car, drove several miles to a hut away from the main village. There sitting next to the hut was 6 large planks of machine cut wood. They measured it and it was exactly enough to complete the roof.

So they take it back to the church, the complete the roof and then ... everyone starts gathering the scraps left over. From the scraps they managed to build 12 pews and a small pulpit.

Also strange: my dad asked the villagers about the man who had the wood. No one had ever seen him before, he asked about the hut he was taken too, no one knew that it existed. Also, even though they drove several miles to the hut ... when my dad got on the top of the 4x4 to strap the wood to the roof-rack ... he could see the church less than 100 yards away.

Angels sent by God? Its a nice thought :)
 
2006-10-31 07:14:05 PM  
When I would play out in the yard (we had a big yard), I would see a dark green face, vaguely alienish, looking out from my bedroom window. When I would go in to check, there would be nothing there. I would never see anything in the house or the bedroom, but when I went outside, there it was, looking out.

So one night I wake up, but not all the way, so I'm in that weird semi awake paralyzed state. I couldn't move, but I could see someone, about 4 feet tall and dressed in a kind of wedding gown type outfit, walking at the foot of the bed, turning and walking along the bed toward me. But then it stopped and suddenly ducked down so I couldn't see it. I tried to scream but I couldn't make my vocal chords work. So eventually I must have drifted back to sleep because the I woke up, this time all the way, remembered what had happened and figured it for a dream. So I rolled over on my other side and closed my eyes and just then I felt a tiny little hand press against my back, just below the neck, and a really cold breath blow across the side of my head.

That's probably the most still I've ever been or could ever be again. The irrational, animal brain kicks in and you think, 'if I'm still enough it will be like I don't exist and the trouble will pass'. I felt like a stone statue or some petrified wood. The hand stayed there for some time. It felt somewhat wet and cold. Sometimes the fingers would curl and I could feel dull, but definitely long, uncut fingernails. The cold breath was raspy, like air blowing through a swamp. All this went through my head in a split second.

Then I really did wake up. It was morning. I had had one of those dreams where you think you woke up but really didn't. So I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was rinsing when two arms reached out of the mirror and dragged me into it. And that's where I've been ever since.
 
2006-10-31 07:20:20 PM  
MrOxen: That has happened to me on several occasions back in college. I used to take naps during the days I had to wake up at 7AM. I never got a good rest, just enough after class. Sometimes I would awake, become conscious that I was "awake", but I couldn't move or open my eyes. I was stuck, heard strange chantings, saw weird shapes, etc and etc.
I thought maybe I was possessed for a moment.


There's a lot of info out there about sleep paralysis. I've experienced it around 20 or so times, each one terrifying. I wake up, feel this weird pressence, a tingling feeling goes up my neck and then around my body. I think I'm moving around and screaming but I "wake up" again and I'm in the same position. When I finally wake up and can actually move, I have to get up and walk around or it happens again and again. Terrifying but it's a totally real experience, and I don't believe it's fully explained (but not supernatural).

Awesome stories, btw, got goosebumps quite a few times.
 
2006-10-31 07:20:28 PM  
When I graduated high school I moved into a small two bedroom house that my Grandparents owned and have rented out for almost 20 years. I had lived in the house when I was a baby with my parents as my Grandparents let them live there rent free to get on their feet. They can't recall anything happening at that time, it was all saved up for me I guess.

Four things stick out in my mind while living there:

Being a recent high school graduate, my roommate and I had a lot of people coming and going into the house and small parties quite frequently. We always exited the back porch door as the front of the house was directly on a busy street with no real yard or driveway. One night my roommate and I had both left together at about 2am. About 15 minutes later a friend of ours who'd just stopped by to visit us called and asked why we had slammed the door in his face. Confused we asked what he was talking about, turns out he'd come to visit about 5 minutes after we left and when he came to the door it opened and slammed in his face.

Another door incident, I was in the shower getting ready to leave and my best friend was laying across my bed reading a magazine waiting for me. She said while I was in the shower the back door had opened and shut and she'd assumed it was my roommate. However when we went to leave the door was unlocked, my roommate had an obsessive habit of locking the door at all times, even driving back home to check it. We then called her and she said she'd hadn't been there

One day while in the walk-in closet, I was standing in front of this large shelf that was built into the inside of the closet. I had everything organized well on the shelf and then a package of taper candles came flying at my head. I picked them up and looked to the place they'd been sitting. They weren't at an angle whatsoever to have fallen by themselves.

One night I was sleeping on the couch in our living room and had my alarm clock plugged in next to me; at this point I was scared to sleep in my room alone. I was home alone and awoken by the sound of someone taking my alarm clock and throwing it to the ground with force, I darted up and my clock was just fine.

The conclusion to my story is this; about a year ago I was visiting my parents out of state and told my father about all the strange things that happened in the house when I lived there. I'm 23 now, so this isn't too long ago. My grandparents now live in the house and are fixing it up and 2 months prior to me telling these stories, my grandfather had come to my dad and said he'd been awake in the house at night and saw a little old woman (no, not my grandmother) walking about the house. My father joked and said he'd taken too much medication that night and my grandfather replied that he's seen her many times.

I then screamed, I knew it!
 
2006-10-31 07:22:50 PM  
img517.imageshack.us

submitted this pic trying to usurp the ha-ha guy.
 
2006-10-31 07:23:33 PM  
Prank Call of Cthulhu

Seems that the Teds cave adventure is a hoax. The original was written by Thomas Lera. I found a link to the story http://web.archive.org/web/20040719225124/www.dougaustin.com/tlcaves/pdf/The+F ear+Within.pdf You'll have to copy/paste since I don't know the appropriate html. The linked story continues on and is a little different from the other. Interesting indeed.
 
2006-10-31 07:28:30 PM  
IMD,

You are evil but I LOVE your idea!
 
2006-10-31 07:35:14 PM  
KarmicHoax: What's REALLY scary are people who are not open to possibilities and have absolutist conclusions about things they can't possibly know.

Proven scientific evidence of ghosts, spirits, premonitions, god, psychic readings, astrology, and other paranormal garbage existing: 0

Evidence of actual scientific explanations of said garbage: enormous

If this changes, then I'll open myself to the possibility of this stuff existing. Until then, enjoy your fairy tales.

/very sorry
 
2006-10-31 07:39:40 PM  
Not a scary ghost story, but in an odd way, perhaps a comforting one. My dear, dear grandmother passed away in a nursing home after suffering the effects of Alzheimer's for nearly fifteen years. Finally, she'd just had enough and refused all food and nutrition. At 90, as difficult as it was for the family to accept, the doctors and nurses did the humane thing and just let her go.

When this happened, we had just brought our premature baby home from the hospital after six weeks in the NICU. At five pounds, I was terrified of him contracting a potentially fatal flu or other infection...he wasn't nursing on his own yet so I was also pumping breastmilk every 3-4 hours around the clock. As heartsick as I was about my beloved grandmother starving to death 2,000 miles away, I just couldn't leave my baby or take him on an airplane. Did I do the right thing? I still don't know.

That Grandma died without ever having met my husband and son is the greatest regret of my life. However, for the past year or so, feathers have inexplicably begun appearing on and around our boy - tucked into his shoe, in his hair, in his pockets, appearing by his feet indoors and out...and he brings me feathers of all kinds at least every other day.

Secondly, dimes...a similar thing has been happening with my husband and dimes - always dimes. He'll take a step and I'll see a dime in the place where he stood. I'll find a dime lying on the bathroom sink after he leaves for work in the morning. When we're out together and one of us spots a coin on the ground, it's invariably a dime. He's not the sort of person who plays practical jokes or believes in an afterlife, yet I can't help but think this is somehow Grandma's way of communicating with us. When we were kids, she'd always give us nickels, dimes and pennies rolled up in a tissue and stuffed in our pockets.

The feathers I'm not sure about, but it eases my heart a bit to think Grandma (who truly was an angel on earth) is watching over our little one...or perhaps at least letting me know she visits him.
 
2006-10-31 08:32:05 PM  
Whatsyourangle

"Whose baby is that? I'll buy that..."
/obscure Flintstones fans

The Count Floyd made me smile!!!
 
2006-10-31 08:36:51 PM  
img.photobucket.com

/is there anything PBF can't do?
 
2006-10-31 08:52:47 PM  
Seeing as how others have described their sleep paralysis/night terrors/prophetic dreams, I guess I'll share.

It's weird, but ever since I was young I could dream things, and they would come true. Some take some interpretation, some are out-and-out slap you in the face, but in most I'm able to predict an event before it happens. Sometimes I look back and think, "Ah! That's what that meant!" But a lot of the time I can tell you what's up before it goes down. And it's not even important stuff! Most of the time it's goofy. I'm not sure what triggers it or why, but here are three of my best:

1) In high school I had three friends I hung out with all the time--Kristi, Rachael and Cori. I dreamt that the three of us went to Rachael's dad's house (which we had never been to, just her mom's) and we had to help her get ready for her dad's wedding. Just a normal boring dream, but I came to school the next day and asked her if her dad was getting married. She replied that he wasn't, to her knowledge, and we didn't think anything else of it until...

You guessed it--about a week to two weeks later she comes in, "My dad's getting married and you knew about it before I did!" I'd never even met the guy.

2)The second involved a friend of mine I had in college. I kept having dreams about him, and in all of them he needed to talk to me (I hadn't seen him in maybe four years). Finally I dreamt we were shopping in Linens 'N Things, and he was there in his scrubs (he was a nurse) piling his cart way way up with stuff. I kept trying to talk to him, but he kept telling me he was too busy. When I woke up, it really bugged me, and I kept trying to figure out why he was working at Linens 'N Things. I finaly figured out that he couldn't have been working there, because he was wearing his scrubs, so he must have been shopping. And the only reason why he would have had that much stuff would be if he were registering. I checked the LNT website and, sure enough, there he was, getting married in about six months. The dreams stopped shortly after that.

3)Finally (and this is a long one) one of the abovementioned friends and I had a spat and hadn't spoken in some time. She was dating another friend of ours, and I had worked at his catering center with him, his mom, and his dad. About the same time I was diagnosed with lymphoma, his dad was also, except his was non-Hodgkin's--not the good kind.

So in the dream I show up for work at the catering center and everyone is there(including my old friend) except the dad. I keep trying to find him to figure out what I should be doing that day, but no one can tell me where he is. I keep looking, and in the process, the friend who had her knickers in a twist approached me and kept telling me how it was all a mistake, and that there was actually no problem. "That's odd," thought I in the dream, and kept looking for the dad. By the end of the dream, I realized that the dad had been killed by a "monster" at the center, and I woke up. The next day he succumbed to the cancer (the monster) and at the funeral the scene between me and the previously peeved old friend played out pretty much exactly as in the dream.

/whoa! Tolstoy!
 
2006-10-31 08:52:53 PM  
jbar19 - You win. That's where I derived the name.
 
2006-10-31 08:53:56 PM  
what about hell toupee?
 
2006-10-31 09:01:55 PM  
GoSurfing
Thanks for the apology.
I'm still kind of offended though. I'm not fat, lazy, or stupid. I've led a cool life. I've been a pirate since birth, not since the movies. And, here's the kicker- I know a lot about Florida. More than I care to know, since I am now living in Orlando, the most touristy place on earth. It's ok though, I have a job that most people dream of, and I don't plan on being in Florida forever.
Yeah I know I didn't have to post that, but I just couldn't help myself.
Let's be done with the whole exchange.
 
2006-10-31 09:16:29 PM  
I'm not dead, but I may be responsible for a ghost story at my alma mater.

Here's how it goes: when I was in college, I was in chorus, taking voice lessons, the whole nine yards (I am a lyric tenor). There was a time when I was the frontman for a band, auditioning for musical parts, etc. I've always been a night owl and an insomniac, so often I would go out on campus late at night and break into this one lecture hall that had particularly good acoustics. Then I'd just practice my songs for the night, as well as my favorite pop songs (Bobby Darin) as loud as I wanted to.
A few years later, I'm hanging out with friends, including one girl who was a freshman at the time that I was a senior, and the subject of campus ghost stories comes up- the music building ghost, various dorm ghosts, your usual run of things. Then she brings up how a certain lecture hall is haunted- "it's said that late at night, around 2AM, you can hear terrible screams and unearthly howls coming from this lecture hall."
Sure enough, it was the hall where I used to practiced my singing. I was rather hurt to hear my singing described as "terrible screams and unearthly howls."
 
2006-10-31 09:27:00 PM  
Sleep paralysis

Been there, done that. Has only happened once, as far as I can tell, but scary enough to be something I'll remember for the rest of my life.

I woke up from a night of sleep, but I could see nothing but complete darkness. And I knew I had my eyes open, yet I was blind. Then I realized I couldn't feel my body, all I had was the impression that I was lying on my back. Everything was silent. I tried to scream, and I knew I was screaming, but there was no sound. I could not move my limbs, and I could not feel them. Just silent, utter darkness.

And then I realized I was dead.

After lying in darkness and screaming silently to myself, being all alone and terrified, for perhaps twenty minutes I passed out from exhaustion. When I awoke again, it was a bright, sunny May morning.
 
2006-10-31 09:29:58 PM  
Mr. Jones from the IRS just left a message on my machine...

/Oh, the horror
 
2006-10-31 09:40:04 PM  
First of all, Bubonis, that was terrifying. Props.

Mine isn't scary, but I think it's paranormal nonetheless. I was bulimic for a few years at the end of high school and the beginning of college. Whenever I would purge, I would go into the bathroom alone and run the water, turn the fan on, etc. to make sure no one outside of my room could hear me. Every single time that I ever threw up, even when no one else was in my house or apartment, there would be very distinct patting noises and knocks on the walls of my bathroom, and sometimes I would feel a hand on my back or shoulder as if someone was comforting me. It never scared me, I just always took it as something trying to tell me that I wasn't alone. A nice feeling, actually.
 
2006-10-31 09:44:21 PM  
I'm loving all of these stories! I live in the very haunted and troubled state of North Carolina, and while the state has its share of haunted stories I, sadly, can offer none. But I'm enjoying the stories with the lights off and my hot cider at the ready. Thanks!
/already went to her Halloween party, athankyou
 
2006-10-31 09:54:54 PM  
happywaffle, I adjusted the lighting on your image.

Looks like a statue set into an alcove, to my eyes.

img421.imageshack.us
 
2006-10-31 10:00:21 PM  
Am I the only one who skips over the stories that contain the words "Ouija board" ?
 
2006-10-31 10:24:53 PM  
Happy Halloween everyone! Really appreciate the stories, don't have any of my own that I can't attribute to an over-active imagination. Glad that we got more responses this year than the last two years. Was almost worried that we wouldn't have one of these this year. Even went so far as to submit this with a "better" headline. It's one of my favorite Halloween traditions. Can't wait to read these all again next year!

For Further Scares:
2005's Thread

2004's Thread
 
2006-10-31 10:35:40 PM  
It is called Koh E Fiza, the valley of lights. Within it was a derlict house called RoopMahal or "Beautiful Palace". Even in its ruins, it showed vestiges of great beauty. My father's best friend bought it when he retired and had it lovingly restored. He invited us to spend the weekend, and when we drove past the gates, it was like Roop Mahal truly was built to do justice to its name. Graceful Persian architecture, marble floors and pillars gleamed white. The house did not have electrical wiring in the hall ways and those were lit with huge brass sconces with candles.

Brigadier Jargidar told us the story of Roop Mahal over dinner. It had once belonged to a Nawab who had lost everything- his title, property and money once India had become Independent. The loss of this life had driven him slowly insane. He would wander its rose perfumed gardens clad in his royal finery, speaking to imaginary subjects, laughing at the jokes of courtiers who no longer visited, even clipped some of his prize roses for his daughters who were married and too scared of their father's behavior to return. The mansion once had a staff of fifty, but everyone had left except for the old Gardener- Hussein, a wild looking Pathan who tended to the gardens and his 12 year old daughter Tabassum.

Then one day, the town was abuzz. Tabassum had been slaughtered. Her head bashed by a marble figure such that her features were almost unrecognizeable. She had died in agony. The Nawab was missing. They found the Gardener hiding in the storage room and arrested him. Some said an angry mob tore him to bits before the police arrived. Others said the police convicted him and he was hung for the murder of his daughter as well as the potential murder of the Nawab. The Nawab was never found, either alive or dead, one of the secrets known only to Roop Mahal.

We all thought it a fascinating bit of yarn, but Jargirdar insisted he had not seen anything interesting in the house. We all retired to our rooms. I was in a room with my sister who was then twelve herself. I went to sleep when a harsh scream woke me up. My sister stood outside the bathroom. Her breath was ragged. Her face pale.

My parents came rushing in. She pointed to the bathroom. The glass was shattered. The walls were gouged, but we could not make out what was written. We went to Brigadier Jargirdar's room.

He was sitting on a recliner, seemingly asleep but as we crept closer, he suddenly jerked upright. His head lolled back, his eyes goggled.

"Zulminahinzulminahinzulminahin" he kept ranting. Froth drooled from his mouth.

"F... this" my mother screamed and ran out. Suddenly Jargirdar woke up and stared at us.

"What are you looking at me for?" he asked in bewilderment. He did not believe us when we told him.

"Nonsense!" he said. In reality it was true. Jargirdar was spoke fine English and some broken Hindi. He was fluent in French but what he had said had not been French.

We walked around the house, and we saw similar gouged marks, scratched in marble floors, in the wooden dining table. It seemed to be a bunch of scribbles.

Though the incidents were a bit strange,in a few days my father and I came up with this explanation. The mirror had shattered in my sister's bathroom as she looked into it. Yes that would have been strange but much as I would have liked to believe my sister's face shattered mirrors, there was seismic activity noted up north and that could have caused tremors that caused the mirror to fall. However we had not known about the tremors and might have been in classic peak efficiency mode because of the incident and merely noticed gouged out marks that had already been there. As for Jargirdar, he had spoken gibberish in his sleep and there was nothing unusual about that!

My mother and my sister were both very disturbed by these incidents proclaimed it to be satanic for "Leave this place" or something as dramatic.

We mocked them for over year joking that the Devil spoke in gibberish and what a pity we couldn't record it and play it backwards and the like.

About 14 months later, I was in 7th grade with a new set of friends. One of them was Sayeeda, a born and bred Bhopal girl. Once while at her house, I told her this story. Her mother walked in with a plate of kababs for us (ooh she made the best Kababs) and I was at the part where Jargirdar was ranting in a maniacal, sleep induced frenzy.

"ZZuliminahinZulminahin or something." I cried, flailing my hands about.

"I didn't know you spoke Urdu!" Sayeeda's mother said in amazement.

"Huh?" I replied.

"What you said, it is Urdu." She said.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"Zulmi Nahin." She replied. "It means I am not Guilty."
 
2006-10-31 10:47:44 PM  
This happened to my 8th grade English teacher, I'll call her Mrs. Deane, in Chattanooga, Tennessee in the mid-1970's.

She was married and had two young daughters and a husband who worked as a restaurant/bar manager who often was not home until 1 or 2 am. They lived in a one-story rented house.

One night, Mrs. Deane was sitting up in her bed, reading, at about 11:30 pm. Both her daughters were asleep in their room.

All of a sudden, a man's voice came out of the clock radio on her bedside table. It said, "I'm watching you. I'm standing outside your sliding glass door."

There was a sliding glass door in her bedroom, with the curtains pulled shut. And the radio was NOT ON.

After s****ing herself, (I'm assuming), she moved herself to husband's side of the bed where the phone was and called the police (No 911 back then.)

Then she called her husband. Nothing else happened, the man said nothing else. When the police and later her husband arrived, neither found anyone around the house or any evidence that anyone had been there.

Mrs. Deane learned from talking to people that it is possible to speak over a radio from a distance if you have special equipment.

Soon after, they got pizzas delivered, that they had never ordered, from several restaurants. They got strange postcards. When they got a funeral wreath delivered to their doorstep, they moved.

Nothing has happened to them since they moved.
 
2006-10-31 10:50:27 PM  
wnatw

Agreed! There was one illustration of a screaming woman's eyeless corpse that terrified me as a kid. I'd read that book hundreds of times, but I dog-eared the page with that picture so to skip it every time. Nightmares indeed!
 
2006-10-31 10:50:45 PM  
This story comes from my father who is a no-bullshiat, fearless kind of guy.

When my grandparents were newlyweds in the 1930's, they lived in a house on my grandmother's father's farm in south Georgia. One night, while the two of them were sitting at the dinner table, the front screen door opened and closed. They assumed that it was one of their neighbor friends or a relative who would occasionally drop in to visit. They called out to whoever it was that came in to join them in the kitchen. No one answered. They heard footsteps head into the back of the house. They called out again and still no answer. The footsteps continued and eventually walked AROUND THE TABLE WHERE THEY WERE SITTING. My grandfather told my grandmother to run up to her father's house. My grandfather sat at the table all night with a butcher knife as the footsteps walked all through the house. He would periodically try to talk to whatever was making the footsteps, but there were no other sounds or sights. Just before dawn, the footsteps headed towards the front door, the front screen door opened and closed, and the footsteps stopped. Whatever it was never came back again.

I'm a grown man and that story still scares the shiat out of me. Footsteps and a face in the window are some of the scariest things.
 
2006-10-31 11:06:38 PM  
When I was 10 or so I had a dog.
She would sleep at the foot of my parents bed until Dad got up (early!) to go to work.
I was in my bed upstairs and didn't have to get up for another two hours.
Each morning I would hear...
'Thumpa - thumpa - thumpa - thumpa' as the dog climbed the stairs.
'Tac - tac - tac -tac' as the dog's claws clicked on the linoleum floor.
'Ba-dump!' as the dog jumped to the foot of my bed and I felt its weight at the foot of my bed.

Years pass.

So does the dog.

But.... every once in a while I would hear
'Thumpa - thumpa - thumpa - thumpa'
'Tac - tac - tac - tac' (On the floor which now has wall to wall carpeting!!)
'Ba-dump!' AND I WOULD FEEL A WEIGHT AT THE FOOT OF THE BED!!!

I posted this years ago on a forum about hauntings and several replies said this was fairly common.
 
2006-10-31 11:20:20 PM  
Diebold voting machines are still being used.
 
2006-10-31 11:27:23 PM  
Cat-like Typing - Did you ever do any research about who owned the friggin house? If I was in a house where a tangible object grossly defied the laws of physics, I'd kinda wanna know who owned the house. (Great story whether it's true or not.)

Arghyematey - Way to go continuing to make drama after the guy apologizes to you. I bet you're one of those types that's "kinda still offended" a lot and lets EVERYBODY know about it, right?
 
2006-10-31 11:45:28 PM  
foolish1

I never researched the house.. I was a pre-teen at the time, mind you, and never thought as such.

The story happened as reported, I assure you. I have tried to get the location out of my father and Dave, but no such luck.. They refuse to talk about it, save to confirm it happened..and that's that....

I would love to go back..or, at least, to find the history of the house..but I don't seem to have the option, even 20+ years later....
 
2006-10-31 11:48:45 PM  
Alright, my unexplainable weirdness: My friend and I were driving around one night with nothing to do. This was probably our senior year of high school, or just after graduation... doesn't matter. I'm driving, and my friend is shotgun. We approach this four-way stop and there's this middle-aged Indian (as in from India) couple walking around looking very tired and lost. So, when the husband sees my car he runs up and asks for a ride. His wife is very pregnant, and bare-foot, and they're lost. I'm a little hesitant because, well you know, people are hesitant. Anyway, I look at the woman and sure enough she's barefoot and about to burst, so I let them in the back (I had a Dodge Colt at the time, very small two-door) and head off towards this public square called Barrington Square, because that's the closest landmark they know to the people they're staying with.

On the way to the square, my friend and I are trying to get more specific directions out of them. I'm a little nervous because well, you know, people are nervous. Anyway, they don't really seem to have any idea where they're going. So, just to be sure, I say "Well, we're at least heading towards Barrington Square right?" To this the husband replies "Oh, we're not going to Barrington Square." Now I'm expecting a gun or knife or something to appear at my shoulder, and my friend gives me this look like "Are we being hijacked?" Then the man tries to explain, in his very broken English, how the house is only on the way to Barrington Square, not right near it. So we relax because, well you know, people relax.

Before we're even on the main road towards the square, this car appears behind us and starts flashing its brights in my rearview. You can imagine the awkwardness. The back seat of my car is tiny, and this couple is practically sitting on the console. They don't even seem to notice, and now I'm wondering if they're in cahoots with the mysterious car. The car keeps following us onto the main road, flashing periodically. Now I don't even want to pull over when we get wherever we're going, because I'm thinking this is all a clever scam to abduct us. Despite my worries, I do pull over when the man points to a street he thinks he recognizes.

I pull off the main road onto this street and the couple gets out right at the corner. Point is, it's very well lit. The mysterious car pulls up right behind us as well. As soon as the car stops behind us, out jumps another friend of mine with his girlfriend. It was just a coincidence that they saw us driving, and wanted us to stop and hang out or whatever. I explain about how we couldn't stop because we were giving these people a ride. They have no idea what I'm talking about. All four of us look around, bewildered. The Indian couple is nowhere in sight.

They probably had about enough time to sprint, and I mean run, to the nearest house and duck inside before we noticed they'd left, since we were distracted momentarily (as in 20 seconds) with the other car. But remember, the woman was very pregnant. Not to mention they probably would wanted to have thanked us, at least, for the ride. Also remember, my friend and his girlfriend were tailing us the whole time, and didn't notice anybody. They didn't notice anybody through the back window of my car, or getting out at the corner. Also, it was quiet, and you'd think you'd hear a door, or people greeting each other, if they HAD gone to the nearest house.
 
2006-10-31 11:51:11 PM  
Hmmm.. This thread and, in particular, this story, has made me re-ponder my unusual immunity to electric fences.. Long story..but a nice grist-mill for my thoughts, this eve....
 
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