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(Boo)   Get into the Halloween spirit and share your true ghost/scary stories. Voting enabled   (images.google.com) divider line
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2529 clicks; posted to Main » on 23 Oct 2004 at 10:50 PM (16 years ago)   |   Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook



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2004-10-24 3:06:21 AM  
We had to put my male Siberian Husky to sleep 2 weeks ago (he was 8 years old, we had him for 2 months after his family abandoned him before moving) and since then our female husky has been acting weird. She avoids "the bunker" (this den under a deck that she excavated and slept in for 9 years before we got Buck) - she'll go in, but refuses to go where he used to sleep even tho we throughly cleaned it out, raked it, and put down fresh dirt. We have two extending leashes that look exactly the same, except that one has had a hole mended and the other hasn't. If we bring out the one that hasn't been mended, which we walked Buck on, Kicha will flip out and refuse to go for a walk. She also won't drink water out of the outside bowl that Buck used.

I was sitting down in our family room the other night, on the couch that Buck used to sleep against, I had my feet up (the dogs regularly slept under our feet), and when I put them down, I swear I felt a dog laying there, and Kicha was outside.

I know that his aura is hanging around, and Kicha didn't act like this when our other dog (whom we had for 18 years) was euthanized 3 years ago.
 
2004-10-24 3:16:18 AM  
Okay, seriously, is anyone else here TRYING not to look out a door into a darkened hallway in the hopes of not seeing that farking Japanese chick thing from the Grudge right now? ARRRRRRGH!

And my scariest story:

Was in SC on vacation when I saw a bumper sticker that had "I HAVE A DREAM" with a picture of the Confederate flag flying over the White House. I think the ghost of MLK Jr actually threw up in my mouth a little.

/true story
 
2004-10-24 3:19:49 AM  
I was a staff member at a boy scout camp in the late Sixties. On saturday afternoons, after the week's campers had packed up and been hauled home, all staff members (~40) would meet in the open air pavilion and the camp director would assign us to various maintenance jobs, that needed to be done, to prepare for the new set of troops arriving on Sunday afternoon. On this particular saturday there was considerable complaining about who would do what, and the Director decided to settle the disputes by coin flipping. His first toss was to determine which group would have to clean the mess hall, or the heads. He pulled a dime from his pants pocket and flipped it up into the air. Everyone was paying attention, as those of us not subject to the result were anxious to razz the bunch that would have to mop the `kaibos'.

The dime went spinning upward and forty sets of eyes followed it's arcing path. The dime struck the rough concrete floor of the pavilion. It didn't bounce or roll. It landed on it's edge, and didn't move again.

All of us, from the fifty year old camp director to the lowliest thirteen year old mess hall worker, stood in awed, spooked silence. The camp director finally said that that was "more than enough" of a result, and there'd be no reassignments. No one disagreed, and no one would touch the dime (some arriving camper got it the following day). I've never again seen anything that has caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up as it did on that day, will never see another `thin' dime `stick it' in this lifetime, and will likely never experience so `spooked' a group mind resulting from our watching as `infinitely' long odds were casually achieved on the flip of a coin.

/sorry about the long play, but that's as voodooed as I've ever been.
 
2004-10-24 3:26:26 AM  
I remember a similar topic last Halloween so forgive me if this is a repost and you've already heard my story...

So, if you are sitting comfortably, then I'll begin.

When I was a teenager there was lots of stories relating to the woods around Epping Forest in the UK. One of the stories was about Copped (or Copt) Hall Click Here. Copped Hall is/was a huge mansion dating back to 1200. Legend has it that a fire broke out in the house killing a whole family. The land was later sold and the mansion rebuilt, only for it to burn to the ground, again wiping out a whole family. All that is left is the brickwork frame of the house. As its a Listed Building it can't be torn down.

I guess because of the history the place is a magnet of the macabre and a supposed haven for Satanists and other freaks on Halloween. As a kid you hear many stories of the ghostly goings on there, such as people hearing strange noises and being chased by something they could not see but could *feel*. And that's all I thought they were - stories - until I went to see for myself. I think I was 19, it was about two weeks before Halloween and me and my friend were driving around with our girlfriends, bored. For some reason we ended up at Copped Hall. The Hall is on private land so you have to park in the woods, just down from the main gatehouse, so you don't get spotted by the gatekeeper or the police.

Id only ever been as far as the gatehouse before but the others were saying we should go take a look so I agreed. We snuck through past the gatehouse and along the path at the back. The path leads through a field beyond and Id heard the path leads all the way up a small hill to the Hall at the top. It was pitch black and we were a quiet as mice until we were away from the gatehouse so no one saw or heard us. We headed on up the path and I remember I could see what was left of the roof of the Hall and the chimney stacks looming out of the darkness, highlighted by the moon behind. The path ends at a very small footbridge which leads over a motor way (the M25) just before you get to the Hall. I remember the footbridge being covered with graffiti of pentagrams and things like "this way to Hell" and "don't go into the house". Id never seen anything like that before. The girls were a little edgy at this point but we decided to press on.

When we reached the Hall I couldn't believe how big it was. There were about three or four smaller buildings dotted around the Hall; stables and such, I think. I'd been told that the ground beneath the Hall was riddled with tunnels to allow the family a way of escape, if the need arose. So me and my friend walked up to the Hall, climbed up and peered through a window on the ground floor. It looked like we were looking straight into the bottom of what would have been the cellar as the last fire had destroyed the wooded floor. Sure enough I could see about 6 alcoves or tunnel entrances which appeared to run off in the direction of the smaller buildings. Leaning right over I could seen an alcove or entrance directly beneath me, only this one appeared to head off back to the footbridge. At this point the girls were getting more edgy and saying they were hearing rustling in the bushes and trees around the Hall so we decided we'd seen enough and to get the hell out of there. The graffiti on the bridge and the tunnels in the Hall had made me slightly edgy too but I was still more concerned about getting caught by the gatekeeper than coming face-to-face with any ghosts.

When we got to the car I opened the door and the radio was on. Now that scared the shiat out of me. I know for a fact that the car was locked. I had the keys with me the whole time. And I know the radio was off when we left. I know this for sure because I wired the radio in myself so that it could only be turned on with the key in the ignition and the ignition turned round to the first click. The next day I checked all the wiring, the ignition and the radio. It was all working fine.

To this day I have no explanation for what happened with the radio but needless to say, this story still makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
 
2004-10-24 3:27:05 AM  
I think I sometimes know things before they happen. It's usually not very significant and it mostly happens just before the event. one silly example:

in high school, i was part of a school group that was selling raffle tickets to a dinner or something. as usual, my mom bought a couple and we sold the rest to my relatives. raffle day comes and we're all standing around watching our director pull a name from the raffle bin. it sounds weird, but even before he stuck his hand in, my face started turning red and i felt really embarassed. by the time he had selected a slip of paper, i knew it would have my parents names on it. silly, yes. significant, no.

another time i was riding on the back of a pickup truck during a parade. i had my legs dangling off the back of the truck for a good portion of the ride, but towards the end i had this urge to put my feet up under me, indian style. about 10 seconds later, the truck behind ups bumps the bed of our truck, not hard enough to do any damage, but if someones legs were there they sure would've gotten all farked up. makes me a little sick when i think about it. but this all could've been a coincidence. the raffle thing i'm not so sure about.

where was this "special ability" on nine eleven, pray tell. sigh.

ooh, speaking of nine eleven and the haunting factor, who here thinks a lot of people will be seeing eerie stuff there whenever they get the buildings up...?
 
2004-10-24 3:28:18 AM  
Only unusual pet death experience I have to share is from my family's two cats, an orange tabby and a gray tabby. The orange one was dying of some kidney problems, so my mom and brother took her to the vet to put her down. The vet let them take the body back home so we could bury her in the backyard. It was late in the evening, and my brother planned on digging the hole the next morning, so he put the box out in the garage for the night. I guess the gray tabby was flipping out, running all over the house, and meowing all night. Would be sappy to say something like, "Awww, she just misses her friend," but man, those cats hated each other.
 
2004-10-24 3:37:51 AM  
This one isn't a ghost story, just an interesting tale.

My great-grandmother was an evil old biatch, as was her husband. They were both into black magic (something we don't normally talk about outside of the family, but this is going on 80 years ago now) and the great-grandmother used to wear a hog's tusk around her neck for some sort of imagined powers. We have some of those creepy old black-and-whites of her wearing it, and they're all dressed in the frilly black of that time, etc. Fairly unsettling stuff.

Anyway, my great-granddad gathered his children around his death bed and cursed the lot of them to live hellish, miserable lives. As far as I'm aware, they pretty much have, although that could be more a state of mind after being raised by that prick.
 
2004-10-24 3:49:20 AM  
nerfherder

This is probably gonna sound stupid and made up, but I felt really ill when I woke up on 9/11. I didnt know why. I stayed home from school. About 45 minutes later my mom calls me sobbing and told me to turn on the tv. Then I knew why.
 
2004-10-24 3:49:59 AM  
My father was a civil engineer. My mother was a spoiled rotten trophy wife. While I was still in the womb, they went and bought one of the largest houses in Plainsfield, Wisconsin.

My father travelled a lot. And the house needed work. So he hired this odd little man named Ed that used to hang out at this mom and pop grocery store to maintain the house. According to my mother's cousins, my mom used to work Ed almost to death, and then shortchange him on his wages.

One day, while my father was in town, it was snowing heavily, so he decided to drive to the farmhouse where Ed lived and pick him up. My father couldn't drive all the way up to the farmhouse, but he drove as far as he could, and then started honking his horn.

While my father was honking his car's horn, he noticed what he thought was a leg of venison hanging in the open door of Ed's barn. When Ed finally came out and got into the car, my father slapped him and told him that hunting deer was cruel. Ed told him he never hunted deer.

A couple weeks later, my father is working in Texas when he gets a phone call from my mom. She's in a panic. Somebody was murdering women in Plainsfield, and she was all alone, and she wanted my father to come home home right now.

My father couldn't do that. But he called up a neighbor, and asked him to go to Ed's farmhouse and pick up Ed. Ed wasn't much, my father said, but at least he was something. Well, the neighbor drove to Ed's farmhouse, and was rather suprised to see very nearly every cop in Wisconsin there.

I was born a full month later. My mom carried me for ten months.

Ed's full name was Eddie Gein. He was Robert Bloch's real-life inspiration for his character Norman Bates. And some years ago at a book fair, I managed to talk to the now late Robert Bloch about my family's experience with Ed Gein and he confirmed almost all of it. And although he had never heard the leg of venison story, he told me that as far as he knew, Ed never shot a deer in his life.
 
2004-10-24 3:50:53 AM  
Regarding the comments from 1nerfherder1 and others about mental powers:

I have had experiences with premonitions and other "psychic"-type stuff as long as I can remember. Usually it's something pretty subtle, like my uncanny ability to tell when an incoming phone call is for me. When I hear the phone ringing, sometimes I just get a feeling that it's for me. About 8 or 9 times out of ten I'm right, and considering that there are six people living here, the odds are against me for luck.

However, the most strange experiences for me have been the dreams that I have. They used to happen all the time when I was younger, but they've slowed over the years, and now I only have a few a year. Essentially, I'll have a dream of something very mundane and unexciting involving me in my day-to-day life. For example, me having a conversation with someone, or watching something on TV, etc. I'll forget about it upon awaking, but then sometime in the next 10 days or so, the exact thing that I dreamed will happen. As soon as it starts happening, I'll suddenly remember the dream and be able to predict what will happen in the next few seconds (they're always very short, never more than 10 seconds). On a few occasions I have scared the person I was with by saying what they were about to say out loud before they did (in those cases I caught on to the vision quickly enough to get ahead of it, usually I remember the event a few milliseconds before they happen, so I don't have time to say anything).
 
2004-10-24 3:56:32 AM  
Thangle

i've actually heard of a couple of other people who felt similar to you leading up to the morning of september 11th. either sick or uneasy. who knows.

one guy i know thought he died on the morning of nine eleven. i guess he got into a car accident in baton rouge right around the time the planes hit. he was bleeding really badly and he stumbled into a grocery store where the tv was on and everyone was standing around watching all those awful pictures. he said since he was all dazed and confused, he thought he was in hell because nothing like that could happen outside of hell. at any rate, i have no idea when he figured out he was still alive.
 
2004-10-24 4:00:16 AM  
i've been thinking about this thread,well trying not too ,to tell the truth. and i have a couple of more story's that i dont like all that much to talk about,but this being the internets ;) i feel a need to share the easiest one for me to deal with.
my grandfather on my mothers side died in 1976,he was a real tough old man. was a cowboy when he was a young man,and at the time he died worked for RTD in L.A ,a bus mechanic.
for aslong as i can remember his hands were stained, from working on engines for 30 years,almost black.
this was my first experince with death of a family member and i was unbelieving of the whole thing,i kept waiting for him to sit up from the coffin,but no he just layed there. i went up to view him and noticed his hands were white,i mean really white,the people who prepared his body had bleached his hands.
it freaked me out,i could not get those hands out of my mind. we buried him with a sixpack of coors,a .45,and a pack of belair cigs. had to sneak all that crap in there,was not fun.
anyways he left all his stuff to my mother,including his house. the first night i slept there,a few weeks later,i was in a sound sleep,when something touched my face,i opened my eyes to see to glowing pair of hands over my head,my granddad's hands, all bleached white!
they hovered over me for a while,then slowly went up to the celing,then faded away.
i dont feel anything about this story,not bad or good,it just was,you know? nothing like that ever happend again.
 
2004-10-24 4:06:16 AM  
hey jsimmons .... you're definitely not alone.
 
2004-10-24 4:07:44 AM  
 
2004-10-24 4:12:39 AM  
I have this scary Halloween story, fairly recently happened too!

I was watching this show on NBC called Saturday Night Live and this goth wannabe called Ashlee Simpson came on TV to sing and the music started up. Then she began to sing but she was too soon into the segue of the song when I saw her sing but nothing came out of her mouth!

Then like a bad Chinese dubbed martial arts movie the music started up, but this young woman didn't sing she just danced around like a fool then left off stage about a minute later like a ghost while her band members continued playing instrumental. Some had this wicked smile on their faces as they looked at each other playing the song that was to happen.

Then at the end of the show she came back on holding her face, off and on like MacCauley Culkin from those "Home Alone" movies did. Looking like a total asshat skank and blaming spirits or something from messing her up.

So I thought her sister Jessica we know HAS a 5 watt brain but this other sister isn't even bright enough to come up with a good reason and fess up to lipsynching, none the less wait on cue to sing!

So I continued to think what would farkers think of this gastly happening. Would they think this supreme idiot of the Simpson family just ruined her singing career or will they think nah, Hollywood will look out for her. *snicker*

Talk about a scary story! AWOOOOOOO! Ah! Okay kiddies not such a scary story. What you want from me!

Sincerely,

Count Floyd
 
2004-10-24 4:13:03 AM  
Way late for voting, but...

I got a late invite to a Halloween party and didn't have time for a proper costume.

I hit the local Theater Makeup shop and got a white bald cap and lots of absolutely white make-up.

White T-shirt, white pants and white bald-wig. White make-up covered every exposed inch of flesh including my mustache.

Got some trick-or-treaters while getting ready for the party. The typical reaction was they took one look at me and ran away yelling "Mommy".

I hit 2 parties that night and "somehow" my eyes became red. Photographic evidence showed this totally white guy with almost glowing red eyes. Adults shunned me. They were actually afraid of me. I used that costume for several years with the same results.
 
2004-10-24 4:17:28 AM  
My two stories can be easily attributed to neighborhood drug addicts or my Dad's past arrests trying to terrorize us. In fact, I suspect nothing supernatural of them, but they were scary as all hell anyway.

One night, around nine or ten PM I imagine, my dad was working the late shift. In the two-story house was just my mother, my friend Darrell, my sister, her friend Mandy, and myself. I was around seven or eight at the time. So the phone rings, and my mom answers. She speaks nervously into the phone; you know how you can tell if something's wrong because of the way someone sounds. She hangs up and looks flushed. The phone rings again, and she starts arguing with whomever's on the other end, then hangs up once more. If I recall, it was around this point that the someone began banging on the front door and the front windows. cThe phone keeps ringing, the doorknob keeps twisting, and the windows keep shaking. Then it all stops. Then, we hear our big wooden gate creak open and leaves in our back yard crunch. Luckily we had the sliding glass patio door locked (and the curtain pulled) when the door started shaking, someone obviously trying to get in. My mother, my sister, and her friend at this point were understandably panicked. But then it all ceases. The phone's stopped ringing, so my mom's able to call the police department and soon after my my dad and a patrol car or two come rushing over. Whoever had been tampering with the house was gone, naturally. But the most chilling part to me, was what the woman on the phone had said. My mom later told that she sounded like my father's mother, except a little off, you know? Half asleep and dazed, I guess. But she began, during the first conversation they had (before my mother was frightened), calling my mother (named Martha) "Annabel" or some such name. Then she asked how the kids were, but she got our names wrong too. My mother had told her that she had the wrong number, but then the woman described my sister and me perfectly. This was the point where my mom became frightened and everything started going crazy. Not terribly spectacular, but a scary memory nonetheless. (And to clarify, my father's mother was alive and well at the time, so no supernatural implications there.)

The second story is, thankfully, shorter. My mother was home alone one day, and when my father, sister and I arrived home, she was in hysterics. She said that she'd been taking a shower, and when she got out, she found the bathroom door to be locked (in that house the bathroom door's knob had been installed backwards so the lock was on the outside, go figure). I don't know how long she was in there, but eventually she somehow had pried the door open with the soap dish she'd broken off the wall. She inspected the house to find only, if I remember right, the front door open, and the cushions on the couch all turned backwards so that the tags on each were facing to the outside. Nothing was stolen. The police came, yada yada. The final verdict was, I believe, that someone had broken into the house looking for money or drugs they believed had been stashed there, either because they thought my father was one of the police department's many corrupt cops, or that the house belonged to one of our neighborhood's numerous dealers.
 
2004-10-24 4:18:49 AM  
Now that is freaky, Coelacanth
 
2004-10-24 4:22:36 AM  
Hold on there folks. We don't want to offend any Christians with all this obviously Satanic material.

At my kids' school, traditional Halloween decorations and the annual 20-minute end-of-the-day costume parade are no more, thanks to legal threats by offended parents. Latest group: Wiccans, bothered by portrayals of witches as cackling, warty hags. School spokespeople insist that they aren't caving in to pressure, they just want to ensure valuable use of every minute of school time. Yeah. Everybody's a comedian.
 
2004-10-24 4:29:06 AM  
Cheri Pi
Wow, you actually *see* the cat?? That may be sweet but it's also pretty creepy. Have you ever tried to take a photo? That would be kind of cool.

My cat died a few years ago too, and although I haven't seen him (and really wouldn't want to), at night sometimes while lying motionless on the waterbed I feel a disturbance that feels just like when he used to jump up on it and settle down. I have other (live) cats, but when I look they are never there. My wife has felt it too, although she's usually conked out. Strange.
 
2004-10-24 4:40:20 AM  
I was 19, just played with a oujia board for the first time a week or two before....it was just a toy.

I called an ex-girlfriend over to my "apartment"...(above the garage on my parents farm)....There wasn't a k-mart nearby to buy the toy from, so I made my own....because "homemade boards are a better medium", and I tell her it's "just a toy."

First attempt. We toss a book over the shoulder and ask what page lands open....the board got it right.
My friend Jenny asks if she knows anyone on "the other side", sure enough, her "suicidal uncle" provides a few precious details to scare us both.
I proceed to tell Jenny that "this is just a toy", and "Parker Brothers". makes them...."it's just a toy."
After a short break, we continue....(mid october, 1am, in the middle of nowhere)
I ask the "spirit" who we are talking to...."S-A-T-A" and I panic and throw the board in the air. "Not Santa"., I say and we take another smoke break....
One last try....."who are you?" S-A-T-A-R.
"We don't want to talk anymore, goodbye."
NO
"We have to go"
NO. U are Wrong.
"Who is wrong? Jenny?"
YES
"What is Jenny wrong about, her boyfriend?"
U are Wrong.
"WHAT IS SHE WRONG ABOUT?!"
T....O.....Y......S

Ever had that close-call, adrenaline-rush up the spine? I grabbed her arm and we left the apartment in a flash. It took us both about an hour to calm down. We went back up with dog, and a 12 gauge. Just to get the board out of there. We drove 20 miles to dump the board, and 10 more to dump the planchette. Jenny and I don't talk much anymore......

/Never slept in that "apartment" after that....parents still live there, and I won't go up there unarmed after dark.
//Never touched a oujia board since.
 
2004-10-24 4:49:08 AM  
some of the st louis farkers might know ALton, IL. Its possbily the most haunted place on earth. I used to work for the phone company...I was traing a new guy when we went to this weird old hotel(now its a antique mall) in the basement there is an old pool..well..when me and Chuck got to the basement, I saw these 2 red lights ..I figured it was a water alarm or something..aand got to work...well I was talking to Chuck..and said..Chuck what you think those red lights are.....and went back to work...I was alomost done..and then looked again..and the lights got closer to the side of the pool..I said..chuck..hand me that screwdriver..but chuck wasnt there..then I hear this thump thump thump....it was chuck running away..I looked at the pool..and the red lights looked like eyes...and this thing had a green face..(my skin is crawling as I type this) about that time, I slammed the box door and beat feet up the steps...I think I made 30 feet in 4 steps and then after I asked chuck why in the h@ll he left me alone with the monster...and he said the eyes looked at him and it felt like he was drowning....I then thrashed him with my hat for leaving me.....well...I'm again creeped out..
 
Ant
2004-10-24 4:50:11 AM  
[image from castleofspirits.com too old to be available]
The Hands Resist Him
 
2004-10-24 5:08:46 AM  
that is a creepy painting... cool history, glad you listed the title! Thanks Ant!
 
2004-10-24 5:12:55 AM  
I live a few blocks south of a cemetery - Oak Ridge, where Abe Lincoln is buried - and a few more blocks north and east of the two major hospitals here. I also live next door to an elementary school, and we get possums, raccoons, muskrats, and other animals prone to making funny noises at night around here. I get the odd weird feeling now and then, usually coming from the backyard or the house next door, but so far nothing concrete that I can't rule out as funny animal noises and such.

But something weird happened all the way across town. My brother wanted to show me around this odd little park forest situated between a cornfield, a residential area, and a commercial zone near the local mall. He says that people see/hear stuff in there, and he had just recovered from a really long streak of bad luck after trying to talk to whatever might be lurking in the woods. So he wants me along next time so we can see if anything happens.

We parked the car in the lot belonging to this little teenage hangout called the Asylum - which is gone now - and started walking along the road that leads to the forest. About halfway there this bald guy on a bike rides past us heading toward the forest, and the little mutt that was running behind him slows down and comes over to investigate us. We like dogs, so we gave him some petting, then kept going. He stayed with us, past the 'markers' under a defunct rail bridge that supposedly delineated the boundary of the haunted area, then stayed with us as we entered the woods themselves and started walking around. Several times he would stop me or him from going certain directions by blocking our paths and pressing against our legs. After a bit we stopped in a little clearing and looked at the sky...a couple of orange lights appeared, stayed utterly still for several moments, then faded. Dunno if they were stars behind thin clouds or what. The dog stuck with us when we emerged into the cornfield and watched a train on the other side, and stuck with us again when we went back into the forest to find the road and head back to the car.

And yes, again he stops us from taking certain routes, then tags along as we get to the road and walk to the rail bridge. I thank him, because at that point it seemed like he was along to guard us, but he continues to stick with us. By now we're worried that he'll follow us all the way back to the car. We're almost relieved when a couple of other people passed by us with a chow-chow and our little mutt went to greet him, but then the dog comes back just before we reach the markers. We keep walking, and halfway back to the car from the markers...what looks like the same bald guy rides past, again, heading toward the forest, again, and the dog ditches us to run after him. My brother insists this has never happened before to him, and has never heard of it happening to anyone else that's been in that forest. I tend to apply skepticism to stuff that happens even to me, but this was just...strange. I honestly think the dog may really have been guarding us.

Oh, and the neighbor's grumpy old oak tree decided to talk to me one day last year. I was out taking a walk to pick up some nice fall leaves to press, then came home and paused by the back door, under the tree, and looked up and said aloud, "And all -your- good leaves are too high for me to reach. Not fair."

The tree dropped one right on my face. And it was a gorgeous color, too. I used to be highly spooked by that tree, but now...
 
2004-10-24 5:17:18 AM  
"Now that is freaky, Coelacanth."

Tell me about it. When I was talking to Robert Bloch, I discovered that he had talked to my mom once while doing research for his book Psycho ("Oh God, I remember that woman. She thought the book was going to be about her"). He then admitted that if he had to work for someone like my mom, he'd think about murder too.
 
2004-10-24 5:31:49 AM  
Gah. Ant, that painting just scared the crap outta me, which is not good when it's still dark outside. It wouldn't be good if it was daylight! Thanks a lot, man.

Anyone wanna get really creeped out? There's this freakish doll somewhere in Key West named Robert. Do a GIS...That thing oozes evil.
 
2004-10-24 5:47:42 AM  
that painting is truly creepy. it makes working overnights in a usually creep-free environment very freakish. so if i don't post anymore, it's a safe bet that the demon children have got me.
 
2004-10-24 5:48:46 AM  
Is this that robert doll?

http://www.myworld.stevenrosendesign.com/placespics/Floridapics/keywes​tthumb/i mages/Robertthedoll_jpg.jpg
 
2004-10-24 5:54:48 AM  
I just remembered a true? ghostly hitchhiker story that kinda involved my dad. In the mid nineties, my dad was working an extra job at a grocery store, stocking the shelves after closing. The shift ended around 2 or 3am, and the boss lived about an hour drive away in Iowa. One night the boss was driving home along some boring ass Iowa highway and he saw a young woman walking along the side of the road. Obviously not something you commonly see at 3am on a dark highway, so he stopped and asked if she was ok and needed a ride. She said yes and got in, and along they went. It was about 15 minutes into the ride, and I can't remember the details of the conversation, but at one point she mentioned the strange music on his car radio. Eyes on the road, he kinda chuckled, "what you don't listen to modern rock?" He looked over at her and she completely vanished. He immediately hit the breaks and came to a screeching halt. Got out of the car for a second and looked around panicking and saw nothing. Got back in and raced home. For a few nights he asked my dad to follow him home, because he was so terrified. My dad said he could see the tire marks on the highway where the boss screeched when the girl vanished. I think they did a little investigating on the incident, to see if anyone in that area experienced the same thing, but I don't think anything ever came of it.
 
2004-10-24 6:08:45 AM  
Not ghosts, but spooky:

A couple of years ago my sister and I were watching TV when we heard an almightly *thump* that sounded like something pretty heavy hitting the floor upstairs - we went up into mum's room thinking a suitcase had fallen off the top of a wardrobe or anything, but nothing was out of place at all.
About half an hour later later mum came home from a neighbours - and mentioned before we'd said anything: "Joyce's neice phoned while I was there, she heard a bang from upstairs and thought one of the kids had fallen out of bed - they hadn't but the bang had woken the kids up."

Which was odd.

Cheri
I've seen my dog (dead for 3 years) run into the living room then run out like he used to when he was asking to go outside - only out of the corner of my eye though.
Me and mum both heard him bark once after he'd been dead about a year.

Calmquake
And worst of all, I remember lying in bed one night on my back, and feeling hands clamp around my neck.

That used to happen to me all the time when I was sitting up doing homework with the lights on.
Freaked out at the time (religious upbringing so scared of "demons"), but I think it must've been to do with muscles or something... I hope.
 
2004-10-24 6:18:06 AM  
Not a scary story but more of a "ghost" story. When I was 19 my grandmother was dying from cancer. My father was staying at my grandmother's home caring for her and I told him that when she died to please call me right away be it day or night.

One night I woke up abruptly out of a deep sleep and I heard my grandmothers voice. She was telling me she loved me, that she would miss me but she was finally at peace. I laid there for about 40 minutes just weirded out by the whole thing.

As I was finally able to shake the whole thing off and try to go back to sleep my phone rang. It was my dad, grandma had died. When I asked him when it happened he said "about 40 - 45 minutes ago. I would have called sooner but we had to call the coroner and the funeral home first".

Just recalling that night I get a bit of the chills and that same weirded out feeling. Not that the incident scares me at all; I kind of like to think grandma did want to say goodbye to me before she left this earth.
 
2004-10-24 6:37:27 AM  
...Yes, that's Robert.

'Scuse me while I hide under my desk. I shoulda known better than to look.
 
2004-10-24 7:39:41 AM  
I swear to you this is a true story!

About 12 years ago when I was a college student, I was crazily into fine arts music, checking out CDs from the library and copying them onto cassette tapes.

One day, I was on vacation at a lake with my parents about an hour or so north of Grand Rapids, MI, and taking a morning walk out in the country with my trusty walkman, listening to one of my tapes (I think it was something by Mendellsohn).

I came upon a graveyard, and was walking up and down the rows, looking at dates, etc. All of a sudden, loud and clear in my headphones with my Mendellsohn I hear a guy say, "Are you still there?!" I stood there, skin crawling, in shock, looking all around me for what could possibly be an explaination.

I later found out that it was CB interference from a passing trucker while I was dubbing the tape! Discovering this while in a peaceful country cemetery all by myself was very freaky, though. It's a good thing I had already moved my bowels for the day!
 
2004-10-24 7:59:37 AM  
IT'S COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE!!!!
(I just love saying that.)

Spookiest thing I can recall -- on a quiet October night, stepping out for a smoke at 2AM and seeing a white possum rooting around in my landlord's garden. (She lived upstairs, I had a daylight basement studio) At the time I didn't recognize it as a possum -- I thought it was a huge, mutant albino rat. Ggggahhhh...

And here's the Sunday paper at my doorstep. Farewell.
 
2004-10-24 8:25:27 AM  
okay, here's my Hallmark moment...

I'm one of 5 kids who grew up in a semi-rural area. There were only 3 other houses close by so when halloween came along we would make our father load us into the station wagon and drive us over to a nearby neighborhood that had more houses. This was cool because it was all the same families we went to school with so everyone knew each other.

Well, one year when I was in junior high (this was before they invented middle school) and was supposed to be too cool for trick or treating, we talked dad into taking us to another area afterwards that had not seen a trick-or-treater in years. So we knocked on a door and this man opens it up all shocked that anyone came and of course he doesn't have any candy because it had always been a waste of thime. He invites us into his kitchen and goes to another part of the house and tells us to wait for him, first we get a little nervous then he shows up with a polaroid and wants to take our pictures because he's so thrilled that we came.

The best part is, he doesn't want us to be disappointed that he wasn't ready for Halloween and tells us to come back the next night in costume. So we show up he throws us a Halloween party!
 
a8h
2004-10-24 8:36:43 AM  
ant:

i remember when that painiting was auctioned on ebay have you got a link to the whole thing?
 
2004-10-24 8:43:06 AM  
One of the truly strange things that have happened to me is an unbelievable string of rather unpleasant co-incidences between certain role-playing campains I ran and the real world. The game was called Kult, a modern horror game. My campaigns took place in the real world Finland, although in a made-up city, and the characters were rather ordinary persons. I can't even remember all the freaky coincidences, but here are a few:

For the first campaign, I borrowed my downstairs neighbour's name for the main antagonist. The campaign started by him dying - a month later the neighbour hanged himself in our attic.

For a second campaign, the main setting was a house which I modelled after a house next to the apartment building I was living in. A couple of years later I ran the same campaign to another group of people in a different city - turns out that the stepdad of one of the players lived in that house. During the game there were mysterious fires in the house. About at the same time somebody tried to burn down the shed of the real world house.

In the campaign one of the important items was a small red kiddie-sized suitcase. It is surprising how many of those can there be in the world, ready to turn up here and there.

One of the characters had a really unpleasant experience about abortions. The player of the character found a wire coat-hanger that had been made into a hook in her room - I swear I didn't put it there.

One of the characters got a rather nightmarish infection in his arm. The player himself got a rash in the same place. There was a few month gap in the gaming, the rash got better. When the campaign resumed, it got worse again.

The freakiest of all: the third campaign started with the characters waking up in a sailing boat after a storm. The boat was leaking and the gps and the communications were down. Well... An ex-girlfriend and other people I knew took a sailing boat trip from Finland to Sweden. You guessed it - they hit a storm, all the navigational instruments and the radio were down and the boat was taking in so much water that they were thinking about bailing out in the lifeboat.

I started getting strong hints from people to stop running that game :)
 
2004-10-24 8:49:41 AM  
JohnGaltDiscGolfer
Ha! That's unbelievable. In a believable way, I mean.
 
2004-10-24 8:58:07 AM  
Tooth: it always kind of made me feel sad to know that this poor dead hamster would want to spend eternity making stupid crying sounds in my computer room.
my mom also says that i used to wake her up in the night crying because i could hear our cat who'd gotten ran over awhile ago purring from time to time.
weird stuff.


Well, know the feeling. I have had several pet rats, usually two at a time. After the second one of one pair died, I occasionally woke up to the sound of them drinking from their water bottle (that clickity-clickity -sound the things make) and tended to see from the corner of my eye something skitter under the furniture. No, I really didn't believe that I was having a ghost-rat infestation. Half-dream memories of a familiar sound and the eye interpreting things as familiar shapes. Sort of endearing and creepy at the same time, though.
 
2004-10-24 10:00:04 AM  
in highschool some friends asked a ouija bord what the devils favorite cereal was and it said KIX.
 
2004-10-24 10:01:37 AM  
My father owns a going-on-60 year old house. When I was ten years old, I was a nightcrawling home schooler. I'd stay up all night doing that day's classwork, the next days, or goofing up (usually goofing off). I could set my watch by it, at 12:30 every night I could hear the chairs squeaking in the dining room as if someone was sitting on them or getting comfortable. We'd leave the bathroom light on at night with the door open since we all hated stubbing our toes on the heater grate right in front of the door in the middle of the night, but sometimes in the morning the bathroom door was closed.

There was several times in the kitchen when I'd put a pot on a stove burner, turn around and it would end up on the floor. My stepmom was making soup one night, I was doing some pointless task (dishes). We both left the kitchen to answer the frontdoor came back and all the soup cans were turned over on their sides, one had rolled off the counter.

when we talk about those experiences, my father brings up the time his disbelief of ghosts and hauntings was turned into beliefe. He's shaving before he leaves for work. He rinses his face and before he pulls the plug in the sink he feels all the hairs on his neck stand on end. He's alarmed, he looks into the mirror and sees a shadow. Turns around, the door is closed in the bathroom and so is the window. No one is there. He turns back and the sink is draining.

People who rent that house complain sometime about their own experiences. Nothing really harmful unless you have an overactive bladder, but is fun to talk about.
 
2004-10-24 10:03:54 AM  
I have always lived in a house or apartment next to a cemetary. Honestly, the dead are wonderful neighbors. I used to live next to John Gotti's cemetary. Now I live next to Louis Armastrong's cemetary. When we moved in, we had a friend named Carmine help us fix the attic. He was alone in the house for 2 days when he came to us and said the house was possessed. He kept hearing footsteps in the attic. Anyway, he still needed a few more days to fix the attic. However, for those next few days, he would only go into the house with his glock pistol, like shooting at a ghost would protect him...
 
2004-10-24 10:06:54 AM  
The Latimerian, who didn't end up being served as embryonic fry with his mother's `chips', gets a vote for being very lucky. All of you, who haven't had the horror, should visit E.Gein's `fashion show' where belts composed and sewn of women's nipples cinch up a whole new line of meaning for `low cut'. 2004-10-24 03:49:59 AM Coelacanth ("trophy wife" grinding her heel on the fella with a license for `dears' LOL/shivers).

Can't compete with that, nor would I want to. But here's a cautionary tale that took place in the Devil's Icebox.

August of 1980 was hotter than usual in Mid-Missouri. A friend, of my brother and I, suggested we head out to Rockbridge park and explore what we could of the park's cave (aka the Devil's icebox). Though the park and cave are now easily accessible and overused by suburban daytrippers, two decades ago the area was undeveloped and unpopulated, a good place to blow herb and commune with Copperheads, Alligator Snappers, and newts, in the comfort of natural air conditioning. On entering the low ceilinged, limestone cavern I was disappointed to learn that my companions had decided it would be more `authentic' to use candles, instead of flashlights, to illuminate our way. By the flickering pools of light, that lit the narrow passage and reflected from the stream running through it, we made our way down towards the source of the cold breeze that chilled our sweaty faces. The cavern opened out into a small chamber where it was possible to stand upright. In the middle was a pool of water that fed the stream, it was no more than ten feet in diameter and, even with the light of the candles, inky black. There were a few rocks on the perimeter of the pond that were just large enough to sit on, and we were grateful for the damp perches. We sat quietly for a while, enjoying the sound of the stream as it gurgled and burbled over the chert and limestone cobbles of it's bed. My brother lit a pinner with his candle, and the odor of illegal smiles was soon wafting through the frigid humidity. Our friend wanted to know how dark it would be without the candles, so we snuffed them without a second thought. The only visual stimulation remaining was internal, random, dope generated. Initially, describing and exaggerating the spots and dots to one another was just too funny, but the absolute blackness, and our tomb like location began to etch through our herb addled ease like a tattoo needle applying a primal tint of fear.

But the blood didn't start flowing from the punctures until my bro asked "who has more matches?". Just after he asked the question, the pool began to glow a dull greenish brown. I attributed the glow to the quality of the chiba and kept searching blindly through my pockets, though I knew I had neither lighter or matches. Our friend said, in a rather too calm voice "I hope I'm the only one seeing this." I stared at the pool, the glow was much brighter. I looked back up and could make out the frantic expressions of my companions, their countenances still so vague as to be nearly incoherent, like nothing so much as pale signposts announcing one's proximity to purgatory, if not hell. The glow continued to intensify and the limits of the chamber took shape.

We stood up and, in the instant between panicked hopeless flight and heart failure, heard loud, fearsome, bubbling and splashing and the glow resolved into blinding white beams transforming the cavern into gray irregularly curved walls shiny with moisture and black with our misshapened shadows.

The voice of a woman boomed against the rock "Oh, Sh*t!!! What?!! Jesus, Bob, who's that?!!" We turned and tried to see past the lights. A man started laughing, "Bout scared us all to death!!" As our hearts slowed down and our pupils contracted it became apparent that these were spelunking scuba enthusiasts, not black lagoon demons of dope. The pair had been working their way through seasonally flooded cave passages. We scared them as much as they had us. After we had all made it back to the parking area we joked with them about our being lucky they were sans spearguns. My brother didn't tell them that he had decided, at the last minute, to leave the Charter Arms .357 Target Bulldog under the front seat of his car. Later, after a bit of reflection, imagining what could have happened had my bro packed the Bulldog became more frightening than any inadvertant subterranean socializing.
 
2004-10-24 10:21:58 AM  
Not quite a sighting - something a bit stranger. I read the following some years ago in Practical Wireless, a British magazine for radio enthusiasts (Spring 1962). Fortunately, I hoard old magazines. I'm also a Titanic buff.

The story concerns an Amateur Radio enthusiast in Croydon.
One evening, he was sitting by his radio set, attempting to receive a particularly faint station on the other side of the world, when he was rudely interrupted by a violent hammering on his door.

It was his next-door neighbour, complaining about interference on his television. Since there had been incidents in the past, his natural inclination was to blame the 'ham'. The radio enthusiast was able to persuade his neighbour that, since he hadn't even been transmitting, it wasn't his fault. Just to be helpful, he offered to go next door and observe the effect.

Sure enough, the picture was being interrupted by buzzing, horizontal lines. The radio enthusiast recognised the cadences instantly - morse code. The same message was being repeated over and over - CQD DE MGY..... CQD DE MGY...... Judging by the power, the transmitter was very close, and unless he was mistaken, some idiot was operating a spark transmitter.

The 'ham' was annoyed. It was clear that some hoaxer was deliberately causing interference. He contacted the authorities (the GPO in those days) who tried to find the transmitter using their direction finder equipment.

No luck - all of their DF equipment showed more or less the same direction. Wherever the transmitter was, it wasn't in the UK.

One of the GPO engineers contacted the FCC, since the signal seemed to be coming from the USA. The FCC brought their direction finders to bear, and found that the two lines of position, from the UK and the US, crossed at a point at about the latitude of New York, and somewhat south of Cape Race, Newfoundland. This point was subsequently found to be close to (but not the same as) the reported position of Titanic, that fateful night in 1912.

The signal was broad band and very noisy, similar to the sort of transmission produced by a spark transmitter. It was picked up on both sides of the Atlantic, and lasted for about two hours, after which it faded.....

CQD was the precursor of SAS, DE means 'this is' and MGY was Titanic's callsign.

It would be nice to tidy up the story by saying that the transmission came from the spot where Titanic's remains were ultimately found, but the article didn't give the actual coordinates.
 
2004-10-24 10:42:54 AM  
i was living with my girlfriend and her sister came to spend the night with us. it was around 2am, and they decided to head to bed. i decided to take a bath and read, something i enjoy. anyways, i had settled into my warm bath and i was reading a book. i wasnt at all sleepy, as in those days i stayed up to 4 or 5am every night- i worked the night shift at a banking center. my girlfriend was in our room and her sister was in the guest room down the hall. after awhile of reading, i heard my girlfriend and her sister start fighting in the hall near the bathroom. they were yelling at each other about something or other. i got pissed and yelled out twice for them to keep it down or the neighbors would get pissed about the noise. they kept bickering. finally, i got so mad that i threw a towel on and flung the door opening yelling at them to shut up already!

no one was there. they were both sleeping in opposite bedrooms. totally freaked me out, as i have no doubt that i heard two women bickering in that hallway. my girlfriend had told me that she saw the figure of an older woman in our bedroom one night, but i never was a believer in ghosts.
 
2004-10-24 11:38:16 AM  
That Robert doll in Key West is creepy. I wouldn't touch that thing for all the tea in China. *shudder*

Anyway, my own meager contribution to this thread: I work in the basement of a cancer center and arrive for work very early in the mornings. Quite frequently when I walk up to the elevator to go down to the basement, and there's nobody around, the elevator door opens for me with a ding and I don't have to break stride to step on in. Normally the elevator is pretty damn slow to come when you push the button. I don't know what to make of it. Probably just a coincidence.

I wonder why there are more tales of hauntings in modern surroundings? Ghosts seem to have excellent taste in antiques.
 
2004-10-24 12:16:49 PM  
Have skimmed over most of these, but got stuck on a couple like jsimmons. In all honesty, the same thing happens to me. A question, how far apart are the dreams and when they occur? I have the dreams and then completely forget about them for weeks on end. Then bam, it is happening. And before anyone says it is deja vu, these are things that could have never happened to me before. People involved in my dream conversations I don't even know when I have them. Examples:
When I was a kid I had a dream about talking to my uncle at the top some really big hill with another woman. Right behind us was a bank of really bright lights, like you would see on a 4x4 Jeep or something. It was kinda dark and really cold, I remember that my legs felt wet too. Don't remember how much later I went with my youth group over to our youth directors house do some snow sledding. I had only my blue jeans on and they were getting soaked. When it started getting dark my uncle parked his Jeep at the top of the hill and turned on his flood lights so we could see. After a run I went back up to talk to him and his wife he'd been married to for only couple of months. It was then that I realized that it was my uncle's wife who was the other person talking in my dream. And I swear two sentances into the conversation I could tell what was going to happen.
Had a dream about being in a ball park with two of my friends and another woman who looked hispanic, couldn't make out details. My girlfriend at the time was there also. We were just sitting watching the game when a vendor comes up to offer a hot dog. Flash forward couple of months, I take a trip to Chicago to see my friend who is married to a girl he met in college, she's Cuban. My other friend has flown up from Tennessee to visit at same time. We decide to take a trip to Wrigley Field. You fill in the rest. I had never been to Wrigley Field with those 4 people before in my life.
Most of the time when I start to realize what is going on my head kinda starts to hurt. I used to even try changing the outcome, just to prove it wasn't happening, but everytime it would just be what was supposed to be said, even if I just started babbling nonsense. That only freaks me out more. I have told my wife about this and she kinda believes me. But I have the same problem, the things I "see" are entirely random and have no idea when it may happen or if is just part of normal dream.
Suffice to say, I have freaked myself on more than one occasion.
 
2004-10-24 12:23:47 PM  
Once when my and a few friends went out ghost hunting, we found ourselves at the Devils Tower in Clifton, NJ.

We are almost POSITIVE we all saw the red shape of a human figure in the very top middle window. (this person would also probably be 7-8 ft tall as well...

What was also very creepy, was that it was during the summer and it was about 75 out, and when we got within 20m of the tower the temperature dropped at least 20.
 
2004-10-24 12:38:17 PM  
fletchmorg:

The dream is almost always roughly a week or so before it happens, although sometime it's been only a day or two. Like I said, this was mostly when I was a kid, so I don't have them too often anymore. I mostly forget about the dream until the event is happening, at which point it comes back. This is always accompanied by me having a head-rush, like when you suddenly stand up after lying in one position for a long time. If I'm quick enough at recognising what's going on, I can say what's about to happen before it does. Mostly though, I say it at exactly the same time, so it's not obvious to the people present that I'm predicting them, rather than repeating them. Sometimes it's a situation where I'm by myself, and that's really weird because by the time I try to do something different from what I've seen, I'm already starting to do it. Oftentimes it'll just be a view of something for a certain angle, and in those cases the whole thing is over in less than a second.
 
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