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(Fark)   It's almost time kids. It's Fark's annual "Scary Story Thread" a day early due to the weekend. Don't miss it. Don't forget to wear your mask.The clock is ticking, it's almost time. Silver Shamrock   ( divider line
    More: Scary  
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4017 clicks; posted to Main » on 30 Oct 2009 at 2:23 PM (8 years ago)   |   Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook   more»

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2009-10-31 07:40:45 PM  
Okay, I've seen some scary stuff in the past (I'm sure I posted my "Uncle's house in Glenn Lyon, PA" story in previous Halloween threads).

But here's one I've not told many people about...

As a kid in Nanticoke, PA we lived next door to an old man named Moriano. I guess I was around 6-8 years old at the time. I spent a few hours with his son one day, who seemed to be a year or two older than me. I looked up to him, hoping to be good friends. He seemed happy to share things he'd learned, since he was a little older than me.

I remember he showed me lots of strange things - but not scary stuff - one thing I remember him showing me was how he can put a dry napkin inside a paper cup and invert in into a puddle. He pulled it out of the puddle to show me how the air pressure held the water out and the napkin stayed dry. Just a simple "classroom" type of science tidbit to entertain a small kid.

He loaned me a transistor radio, and I was amazed by his trust in me - a transistor radio was a big thing to a little kid back then, and I took it as a great responsibility to ensure that I returned it in the same condition he loaned it to me in. I hid it from my parents, so I could hide beneath my blankets that night and listen to the radio after bedtime.

The next day, as I walked to Moriano's house, I remember turning the radio on and off several times on the way there, to make sure I hadn't run the batteries down - and thinking about how silly it was to keep turning it on/off, as it would probably contribute to draining the batteries, but I just wanted to make sure it still worked when he got it back. I knocked on the door and nobody answered, so I hung the radio on Old Man Moriano's doorknob and went home.

Later when I noticed Moriano was home, I went to make sure he had found the radio on the door. He was kind of upset and asked me how I had taken the radio from his house in the first place. I explained that his son had given it to me.

He pointed up at the picture of his son on the wall. He was older than my dad, and dressed in military uniform. I was too young for it to make sense, but from what I gathered his son had died in the war several years ago.

I was too young to dispute his claim, all I could say was I knew his name, and had played with him for many hours the day before, he wasn't much older than me, and I had hoped we would be good friends for a long time. To this day I still think back about him and the disappointment I felt for not being able to see someone anymore, who I thought would be a really good friend.

I'm sure the adults figured it was just a case of me swiping the radio, and returning it in hopes of not getting in trouble.

I wish I was a bit older and able to comprehend the situation, only small bits of it are still clear in my memory. I was pretty amazed at the dry napkin trick, and every time I see that air-pressure effect I think about him showing it to me. I often wonder what other tricks or advice he might have given me that I was too young to appreciate the value of.

But who knows - early memories can play tricks on us. Although that one day, and my memory of my friendship with him has stuck with me, and I think about him just about every day - for almost half a century now.
2009-10-31 07:52:56 PM  
Anyone have that story about the Black Eyed Kids? I think it was from last year. It scared the crap out of me.

2009-10-31 09:48:29 PM  
Black Eyed Kids - Brian Bethel

My Internet Service Provider used to have offices in a shopping center before they moved to their
(comparatively) lush accommodations elsewhere. There was a drop box at that original location. The
monthly bill was due, and thus, there but for the Grace of the Net I went.
It was about 9:30 p.m. when I left. From my relatively isolated apartments, it's about 10-15 minutes or
so to downtown (Abilene has a population of about 110,000).

Right next to Camalott Communications' old location is a $1.50 movie theater. At the time, the place
was featuring that masterwork of modern film, Mortal Kombat. I drove by the theater on the way into
the center proper and pulled into an empty parking space.

Using the glow of the marquee to write out my check, I was startled to hear a knock on the
driver's-side window of my car.

I looked over and saw two children staring at me from street. I need to describe them, with the one
feature (you can guess what it was) that I didn't realize until about half-way through the conversation
cleverly omitted.
Both appeared to be in that semi-mystical stage of life children get into where you can't exactly tell
their age. Both were boys, and my initial impression is that they were somewhere between 10-14.

Boy No. 1 was the spokesman. Boy No. 2 didn't speak during the entire conversation -- at least not
in words.

Boy No. 1 was slightly taller than his companion, wearing a pull-over, hooded shirt with a sort of gray
checked pattern and jeans. I couldn't see his shoes. His skin was olive-colored and had curly,
medium-length brown hair. He exuded an air of quiet confidence.

Boy No. 2 had pale skin with a trace of freckles. His primary characteristic seemed to be looking
around nervously. He was dressed in a similar manner to his companion, but his pull-over was a
light green color. His hair was a sort of pale orange.

They didn't appear to be related, at least directly.

"Oh, great," I thought. "They're gonna hit me up for money." And then the air changed.

I've explained this before, but for the benefit of any new lurkers out there, right before I experience
something strange, there's a change in perception that comes about which I describe in the above
manner. It's basically enough time to know it's too late. ;)

So, there I was, filling out a check in my car (which was still running) and in a sudden panic over the
appearance of two little boys. I was confused, but an overwhelming sense of fear and unearthliness
rushed in nonetheless.
The spokesman smiled, and the sight for some inexplicable reason chilled my blood. I could feel
fight-or-flight responses kicking in. Something, I knew instinctually, was not right, but I didn't know
what it could possibly be.
I rolled down the window very, very slightly and asked "Yes?"

The spokesman smiled again, broader this time. His teeth were very, very white.

"Hey, mister, what's up? We have a problem," he said. His voice was that of a young man, but his
diction, quiet calm and ... something I still couldn't put my finger on ... made my desire to flee even
greater. "You see, my friend and I want to see the films, but we forgot our money," he continued.
"We need to go to our house to get it. Want to help us out?"

Okay. Journalists are required to talk to lots of people, and that includes children. I've seen and
spoken to lots of them. Here's how that usually goes:

"Uh ... M ... M ... Mister? Can I see that camera? I ... I won't break it or anything. I promise. My dad
has a camera, and he lets me hold it sometimes, I guess, and I took a picture of my dog -- it wasn's
very good, 'cause I got my finger in the way and ..."

Add in some feet shuffling and/or body swaying and you've got a typical kid talking to a stranger.

In short, they're usually apologetic. People generally teach children that when they talk to adults,
they're usually bothering them for one reason or another and they should at least be polite.

This kid was in no way fitting the mold. His command of language was incredible and he showed no
signs of fear. He spoke as if my help was a foregone conclusion. When he grinned, it was as if he
was trying to say, "I know something ... and you're NOT gonna like it. But the only way you're going
to find out what it is will be to do what I say ..."

"Uh, well ..." was the best reply I could offer.
Now here's where it starts to get strange.

The quiet companion looked at the spokesman with a mixture of confusion and guilt on his face. He
seemed in some ways shocked, not with his friend's brusque manner but that I didn't just
immediately open the door.
He eyed me nervously.

The spokesman seemed a bit perturbed, too. I still was registering something wrong with both.

"C'mon, mister," the spokesman said again, smooth as silk. Car salesmen could learn something
from this kid. "Now, we just want to go to our house. And we're just two little boys."

That really scared me. Something in the tone and diction again sent off alarm bells. My mind was
frantically trying to process what it was perceiving about the two figures that was "wrong."

"Eh. Um ...." was all I could manage. I felt myself digging my fingernails into the steering wheel.

"What movie were you going to see?" I asked finally.

"Mortal Kombat, of course," the spokesman said. The silent one nodded in affirmation, standing a
few paces behind.

"Oh," I said. I stole a quick glance at the marquee and at the clock in my car. Mortal Kombat had
been playing for an hour, the last showing of the evening.

The silent one looked increasingly nervous. I think he saw my glances and suspected that I might
be detecting something was not above-board.

"C'mon, mister. Let us in. We can't get in your car until you do, you know," the spokesman said
soothingly. "Just let us in, and we'll be gone before you know it. We'll go to our mother's house."
We locked eyes.

To my horror, I realized my hand had strayed toward the door lock (which was engaged) and was in
the process of opening it. I pulled it away, probably a bit too violently. But it did force me to look
away from the children.

I turned back. "Er ... Um ...," I offered weakly and then my mind snapped into sharp focus.

For the first time, I noticed their eyes.
They were coal black. No pupil. No iris. Just two staring orbs reflecting the red and white light of the

At that point, I know my expression betrayed me. The silent one had a look of horror on his face in
a combination that seemed to indicate: A) The impossible had just happened and B) "We've been
found out!"

The spokesman, on the other hand, wore a mask of anger. His eyes glittered brightly in the half-light.

"Cmon, mister," he said. "We won't hurt you. You have to LET US IN. We don't have a gun ..."

That last statement scared the living hell out of me, because at that point by his tone he was plainly
saying, "We don't NEED a gun."

He noticed my hand shooting down toward the gear shift. The spokesman's final words contained
an anger that was complete and whole, and yet contained in some respects a tone of panic:

I ripped the car into reverse (thank goodness no one was coming up behind me) and tore out of the
parking lot. I noticed the boys in my peripheral vision, and I stole a quick glance back.

They were gone. The sidewalk by the theater was deserted."
2009-10-31 10:04:51 PM  
drug-rehabs.orgView Full Size

This isn't a ghost story but it's spooky nonetheless. Back at the University of Pittsburgh I used to love to do acid and other mild hallucinogens (no PCP or shiat like that, just the classics). Yeah, I know, some of you will stop reading right here but hear me out. Sometimes I would get really lucid dreams on nights around when I would trip. I'm gay and had a really hot Fench Canadian lover named Jarret at the time. One night me and Jarret were lying in bed and he was sound asleep and I was stroking his wavy chestnut hair deeply in love and suddenly I had this lucid dream: I was a giant prehistoric lizard clinging to the ceiling above the bed (90s style loft apt. with exposed ductwork) I was actually the female and Jarret was a male on the bed below me. Although we were generally olivish brown color, I was changing the colors on my neck to deep reds and oranges hoping they would attract him. I thought nothing of it in the morning, except that it just meant I was in love.

That was about 2004ish, Jarret and I have since broken up and moved our seperate ways and I now live in DC, where I'm a law student and have quit drugs; he's in France working for a vineyard. About a year ago there was this BBC documentary that played on the Discovery channel late at night or something in which they discribed the mating habits of lizards and how, indeed, the female would pump blood into special organs on it's neck to change them red and orange to attract a mate. Before that night in Pittsburgh I had no knowledge or interest in lizards, and had no idea of their mating rituals. Some people think LSD allows you to tap into alternate universes or even parts of the subconcious you would not otherwise see. I don't know about that, but they call the stems of our brains "reptilian" because of their similarities to the beasts that mammals and mankind evolved out of. I'm not freaked out by the things I saw on acid but revel in them. There's so much of the universe we don't know anything about and it's these mysteries that make life interesting.
2009-10-31 10:20:19 PM  
Another Black-Eyed kids story (new window)

And another... (new window)

What creeps me most about these stories is they seem somewhat consistent.
And I don't like it. No sir, not one bit.
2009-10-31 11:37:32 PM  
Tolstoy ahoy. My mother and I have had various independent experiences in our house, and my ex-boyfriend once heard the famous hallway footsteps from the basement.

One thing from when I was about two years old I remember very distinctly. I was sitting on the living room floor, playing with my toys, when suddenly everything around me changed--the furniture, the people, etc. Being around two years old, I thought nothing of it and continued playing, but soon a man on the couch fell forward, clutching his chest, and the others rushed to help him. After that, the room swirled back into normality.

A few years later, I remembered what had happened, and I asked my mom whether anyone had died in our house. She said no, so the memory went away for a while. A few years later, I asked whether anyone had ever had a heart attack in the house, and she said yes, that before we'd moved in, a man had had a heart attack there. (We were close friends with our neighbors, with the man in each house being brothers).

I can still see that vision clear as day--whether it was a dream which just happened to line up with reality or whatever, I couldn't say. This is in the same area, however, where every so often, if you're in the basement in the middle of the night, you can hear about five footsteps going down one particular segment of the hallway where the floor is especially squeaky above you, then just stop, with no one being there when you go to investigate. The basement also tends to get really creepy vibes at seemingly random times, but I've found some pretty high EMF readings from the water pump in the laundry room, so I can't chalk that particular experience up to being unquestionably supernatural.

Once, I was standing in the hallway of what was one of the original 100-year-old university buildings on campus, and heard loud footsteps going down the hall behind me. I turned around immediately after they passed behind me, but no one was there, and there was nowhere they could have gone. That was pretty cool, but it hasn't happened again since.

There was a dorm room I lived in about four years ago in which odd things would happen, such as the door being knocked on at random times with no one being out there when we answered, even if we were right there when it happened and opened the door immediately. It got to the point where we just stopped answering the door when we heard that particular style of knocking. When I was alone in the room and packing up to move out at the end of the year, a tin of Altoids, which were sitting perfectly flat in the middle of my desk, flew off the surface with a loud scraping and landed face-down in the middle of the floor, which would have required a good deal of force. I can only assume it was our ghost saying good-bye to me.
2009-11-01 12:06:31 AM  
I farking hate you guys I need to go outside now to go get my laundry but I am gonna pee myself I'm so scared...
2009-11-01 01:44:25 AM  

Peacedog: When my wife and I were first married I already had my own house for a couple of years and really had no supernatural occurrences. My wife on the other hand was different. It first started with her snoring very loudly during the night. I said something to her the first night and she swore up and down that she never snored. I called her parents and they verified that she never snored when she lived with them. So we thought it might be the bed. We changed it out, but the snoring continued for a couple of months.

One night we had went out for Mexican food fairly late in the evening and when we both got home we were fairly worn out. We decided to hit the hay early. That night I heard my wife scream and she sat straight up in the bed. I asked her what the matter was, and she said she woke up smelling one of the most foul odors she has ever smelt. She said it smelled like fresh death. She said that wasn't the weirdest thing though. When she had awoke the covers were completed over her face and tucked behind her head. She never slept with the covers over her head. The other strange thing is that I also noticed a strange, yet familiar sulfur-like smell in the air.

The next day was the weekend and we had spent all day at a sauerkraut and bratwurst festival. Feeling very tired we went to bed early again that night. Almost the same time as before, my wife awoke screaming. She said the smell had come back and it was worse than before. Also the covers were over her face and tucked underneath her head again. I did notice again a strange sulfur-like smell in the room.

This went on for a few more nights before my wife just up and decided to sleep in the other room. I decided to stay in the room to see if the phenomenon would happen to me. Every night I would stretch out on our king size bed underneath all the warm, warm covers wondering if it would happen to me. It never did.

My wife still refuses to sleep in the bedroom, choosing instead to sleep across the hall. She says she never has woken up with the sheets over her face and that putrid smell in her nose since she moved out. But, she has closed the door to her room because she said she could occasionally catch the death smell coming from the bedroom like it was trying to seek her out.

Dude, you dutch-oven'd your wife out of the room!
2009-11-01 01:45:36 AM  
As late as it is I feel compelled to get one more in, and again its about a nightmare. I understand teeth falling out dreams are pretty common but the one I had was just so vivid.

It was just me in my bathroom, and I'm brushing, and one tooth moves a little, just wiggles a tiny bit. I then manually move it with my finger, and wince, theres just a sense of sadness that at my young age i'm going to be permanently missing a tooth, or have a falsie. But I can't stop myself, and the wiggling keeps going, untill with the tiniest bit of effort, and no pain the tooth comes out. Of course it's disgusting. It's saliva-y its bloody, and theres this squishing/squelching/liquid noise as the tooth pops out, and dribbles a little bit of blood into my mouth. Gross, I spit and drink water and spit, and my tongue pokes another tooth. Same as the first one. Wiggle-wiggle-wiggle, squelch-squish-spit, another tooth just physically tugged out. I can feel it in my gums and in my hand and I can taste all the blood and saliva streaming out. And I just felt compelled, easily getting each tooth out, with that tiny bit of dead root resistance that you might remember from losing your teeth. By the end of the dream its blood and saliva and phlegm everywhere, and i'm sobbing because at my young age i'll need full on dentures, and I can hardly breathe with all the blood and everything in my mouth.

I took me two days to get over that dream.
2009-11-01 03:15:43 AM  

muck4doo: Be afraid. Be very afraid.

She looks like Lily Tomlin in that pic.
2009-11-01 03:23:39 AM  
I'm house sitting in a house with... rats and mice. (I hope that's all)
So what with the rustling and all while reading these stories, I am most definitely not getting a kick.
2009-11-01 12:29:44 PM  

JimG521: Last year we bought our first house. Everything was ok at first, I don't remember anything spooky. I'm sure anything weird we just attributed to getting used to the sounds and sights of this new place.

A few months after living there, my 2 year old wakes up in the middle of the night calling for us. We were still up, so I left the living room and went to check on him and get him back to sleep.

He was upset by "the people" in his room and wanted me to hold him. I get pretty easily freaked out, but I had to be dad and get the kid backed to bed without much lasting emotional damage, so I playfully start asking about the people - like how many, what they look like, and so on.

Soon, I ask where they are and he just glances for a second at the corner of the room and then back to me, eyes wide and panicky. So, to make sure, I pointed at the corner and said, "There?"

He grabbed the finger I was pointing with and pushed it down so quickly it scared me and yelled "Don't!" I did it a couple more times, not tormenting the kid, I just didn't understand what was going on. And each time he got very angry and upset, and more scared as he grabbed my hand and yelled "Stop daddy!" or "No no no no no..."

I finally told him, speaking loudly and clearly that there couldn't be anyone else in the house except him, me, Mommy, and his little brother. And if anyone else WAS in the house, they didn't belong and needed to get out and never ever come back. By the time I finished I was yelling.

As soon as I was done speaking, the lights in the house all flickered and we heard the loudest BANG I have ever heard - like a gunshot - come from our back door down the hall.

He's never said he's seen them again, but he still remembers, and I definitely do too. Sometimes on the way to bed he still asks, almost 2 years later, if the people will be there.

Dude, get the fark out of that house.
No, really.

I was thinking about saying the above, and my lamp just flickered and it got dark in here for a second, which means the light from the window behind me (bright daylight) must also have dimmed at the same time.
2009-11-01 01:16:12 PM  

vudukungfu: headstone: Just a piece of my life.

Was her name Margarette or Louise?
note the conjunction.

Sorry for the late response. Her name was Linda.

You may never see this response, but now I'm curious. Why did you ask?
2009-11-01 03:25:13 PM  

Delay: A girl friend some years back, who later became Mrs. Delay, told me a spooky story. Let me post a brief version.

I grew up in SoCal where there are no ghosts. Were a ghost to show up SoCal it would be treated like the old Bill Cosby comedy routine: Ghosts? I pay for this house! There are no ghosts allowed.

Given that background, when I moved to Oregon because the rents are cheaper than California, I had no idea that ghosts thrive there. How did I learn that ghosts thrive in Oregon? My new Oregon girl friend lived with ghosts. Pioneer cemetary ghosts, open field ghosts, empty building ghosts. I had no idea Oregon was sparse with people but crammed with ghosts.

GF and I became more attached and started sleeping in the same bed. Every night she would approach the bed and from about two feet away she would jump in. It became too strange a habit. I asked her why. She said that since a child she had seen the green hand underneath every bed she slept in that would quickly reach and attempt to grab her. She did not want to be grabbed by the green hand. So she jumped. Made sense to me.

Actually no. It seemed batshiat crazy to me but, she was very cute. Anyway, about two nights later I had to go to the bathroom and when I came back I saw in the dark what I thought was a green sock next to the bed and stomped it out of the way.

Girl friend stopped jumping into the bed. She even brought it up. She said she did not feel like she needed to jump into the bed anymore. I asked why. She said, there is no green hand anymore.

Hah -- have you told her this?

I've been wondering whether to share my own experiences. Haven't decided on the rest, but your comment about Oregon prompted me about this short one: I used to live in an apartment in Portland. Once I woke up in the middle of the night, and I knew something was in my room. I was deathly afraid to open my eyes, or to move at all, as my blanket was completely over me, so surely if it was someone who broke in, they'd be able to attack me first. Finally, if I recall correctly, I bolted up with a yell, but the room was empty and the door closed. The door to the apartment, however, I thought I heard snicking shut at the same time I opened my bedroom door, and it was unlocked. (Something I have always been paranoid about has been locking my doors, too)

Well, I decided maybe it was just a classic night terror/sleep paralysis thing, though part of me worried a little that it might have been the slightly creepy head maintenance guy, since he had a key, and like I said I was paranoid. Possibly this event is why I started leaving my TV on all night, with the sound low, to Headline News. I didn't think much about it at the time otherwise, and quickly forgot it. Later on after I'd been laid off and moved to another state, I was looking online at the Oregonian website by chance, and there was an article that a road crew had found the corpse of a homeless person in a culvert just across the highway from my complex, basically. And the guy had apparently died around the time I'd had this episode, a year or so before. Sure, it could all be coincidence, but I do find a second coincidence in that I just happened to be looking for news from my area when that story came out.
2009-11-01 08:22:29 PM  

Forecaster18: I'm almost certain he's talking about Pine Village, IN.

I guess I'm trying to find where he's talking about. I know they've redone how the road goes over the last numerous years.
2009-11-02 07:00:25 AM  

These are the stories that creep me out most of all. Nicely done. Such a good thread, I had to re-read it three days later.
2009-11-02 01:15:18 PM  
2009-11-02 09:38:48 PM  
When I was a kid I used to love to watch strange mystery shows like In Search Of, Unsolved Mysteries, Ripley's Believe it or Not (with Jack Palance), etc., and I was also a big fan of corny horror movies though watching the stuff nowadays I tend to find horror movies funny and not scary (I could also complain about how most horror movies nowadays are all about gore porn and having stuff jump at the camera but I digress). I also lived on an island that started out as indian holy ground, then became a significant stop back when fur trade was big, then was an important area during the war between america and england (there are two forts, battles were fought on the island, lots of dead people and stuff like that). Point being I was into ghosts and spooky stuff and the whole area was prime location for haunting.

Nothing happened... ever. No ghosts, no unexplainable lights or animals or anything like that. Even if other kids claimed some place was haunted or that something creepy happened, whenever I checked it out there was never anything there or anything that couldn't be explained by natural causes. Which is why despite all the stories in this thread or any halloween thread I don't believe in ghosts or any such foolishness of that sort.

/house I'm living in right now is a crappy old place that tends to go through lots of troublesome room mates (drugs and alcohol are the usual problems) and one past room mate claimed to have used a ouija board with some friends and supposedly there's some evil spirit here, I've been here for a couple years now and never felt or seen a thing even if I walk around at night with the lights off
//only creepy thing in this house is spiders
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