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(Fark)   Annual Halloween "Tell your real ghost/scary stories" thread   ( divider line
    More: Scary  
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4200 clicks; posted to Main » on 31 Oct 2006 at 10:59 AM (16 years ago)   |   Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook

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2006-10-31 10:33:04 AM  
I once drowned a bunch of orphaned gypsy babies in a bathtub full of drain-o. They haunt me to this day when ever I'm fapping to pictures of Barbra Bush and Hillary Clinton.
2006-10-31 10:33:48 AM  
as i spread submitter's mom's legs
2006-10-31 10:35:38 AM  

Phew! That flying bible almost hit me in the head.

I'm headed to my girlfriends, brb.
2006-10-31 10:36:24 AM  
i like these threads. don't have one of my own, but i've been watching those "most haunted" shows and didn't think they were bothering me, but i woke up last night and had to pee, it was dark and quiet, and i decided i'd just hold it.

2006-10-31 10:37:54 AM  
meg12279: i woke up last night and had to pee, it was dark and quiet, and i decided i'd just hold it.

This needs more detail. Please see me after class D-
2006-10-31 10:37:58 AM  
I once upgraded to Firefox 2.0 and all my bookmarks suddenly vanished!

2006-10-31 10:39:42 AM  

Was eet chewed OR swallowed WHOLE?
2006-10-31 10:40:08 AM  
after some of the topless tfette and bottomless tfer pics I have seen, nothing scares me
2006-10-31 10:41:28 AM  
Kittens, thousands of dead kittens haunt my nights.
2006-10-31 10:42:17 AM  
I lived in a quaint little town of about 40,000 people. Every time around this year my town was flooded with people, nearly 20,000 in fact. They looked for witches and goblins and every thing spooky for Halloween. Little did they know that the witches my town is famous for weren't really witches but part of a hallucinogenic craze from wheat and where these witches were hanged is now a baseball field. The traffic and the drunk frat boys now haunt the city during Halloween.
2006-10-31 10:43:21 AM  
Whatever happened to flying bible guy? I don't recall a followup on that one.....

Anyway, I'm not a believer in ghosts or anything like that, and pretty skeptical to the whole thing, but my story (sorry for the tolstoy):

My first summer after highschool, I worked for my neighbor. He had a contracting business that mainly did light remodels on houses. Painting\general caprentry\basic landscaping\building decks, stuff like that. The usual crew was this guy, his partner, myself and one or two of my friends, and a general laborer or two, depending on the size of the job.

About halfway through the summer we got a job to do some cleanup on a house a few towns over which had been neglected for a while. Repaint inside and out, fix some squeaky floors and water damage, clean up the yard, etc. It was a decent sized house, and needed a ton of work, and the estimate was that it would take about a month to do it right. The homeowners had no problem, as they were not living there, and were planning on selling the place. Everything inside had already been cleared out (for the most part).

The first few days we spent just clearing brush and stuff out of the yards, so we could get equipment in to work on the exterior. Once that was done, we split off into two crews, one scraping the outside of the house, and one doing work on the inside. It was the summer, and the place did not have a/c, so the easier job was the work outside, and we would rotate who was in and who was out.

To give you an idea of the layout of the house. When you walked in the front door, you had large room off to your immediate right and left. Straight ahead of you and to your left you had a staircase that went up to the second floor, to the right a small bathroom, and then straight back to the kitchen and another large room. Upstairs you had 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. There was only one staircase to the second floor.

We started in the front rooms, and within an hour or so our radio started acting up. It was an older boom box type thing, with a manual casette player, and the knob with the slide for tuning the stations. In other words, it was all mechanical, not digital. At least 3 times, the station changed on its own, from 102.7 which we were listening to, to other random stations (sorry, no creepy oldies music or anything). What is interesting is when it changed stations, the station it would end up on would be perfectly tuned in, and the jump between stations was very quick, much quicker than a person could turn the knob and tune in the station so well, and then get away from the radio without being noticed, like, a seconds time, just enough time for the slide to traverse the distance to the other station. No, the radio didn't have the mechanical station presets.

At least twice when this happened I was in the room, and while my back was turned to it, the radio was in a location where it would have been damned near impossible for someone to get to it, turn the station and then get out of there. It was not by a window either. On a few occasions the volume would go WAY up, up beyond a point that I thought this thing was capable of producing. We then moved the radio to a different room, blaming it on bad power, and the problems let up.

Other strange things: Lights would go on or off while you were working, including our own portable floodlights. It wasn't power was cut or anything, but the actual switch was thrown. You could also hear footsteps above you when you were sure nobody was upstairs.

The final kicker, as we were wrapping up the work on the place, I was replacing some molding in a second floor bedroom. I had a large heavy steel toolbox, with a bunch of tools in it, that must have weighed 30 or 40 pounds. One of those big craftsman jobs. I had finished off most of what I was doing, and had most of my stuff put away when our lunch showed up. It was raining outside, so were all sitting in the main entrance way by the stairs, in fact, myself and another guy were sitting on the stairs. EVERYONE was accounted for. By this point we were all always joking around how we were working in a haunted house, due to all the strange stuff that was going on, but noone was taking it real seriously. Everyone was pretty much convinced that it was the combination of an old house, our imagination, and probably a few of us screwing around with eachother causing the stuff. Mid conversation about this, there was a giant crash from upstairs. One of the dudes freaked and just ran for the door. Myself and the dude sitting on the stairs next turned and went up the stairs. At the top of the stairs you had a clear view of the entrance way to all of the rooms, so in the 3 seconds it took for us to climb them, nobody would be able to get out of a room without being spotted.

Inside the room I had been working, my heavy metal toolbox had been tossed across the room, its contents scattered. The time from when it happened to when I got there was so short that stuff was still rolling around. Again, this was a 30-40 pound toolbox, which was sitting on the floor, and had been clearly tossed a good 10 feet. We checked the other rooms and of course found nothing. To go out the window (which was closed as it was raining) would have been a 15 foot drop into some nasty bushes. No ladders were up on the house, or even off the truck for that matter that day, due to the rain. Everyone working there was sitting with us while we ate, and nobody could have gotten past us and down the stairs while we checked the rooms, as there were people watching the stairs.

It was pretty damn scary, and the final couple of days of us working there everyone was really on edge. Nobody would go into rooms alone, and you could tell everyone was pretty much scared shiatless.

The boss mentioned the goings on to the homeowner who was just kind of like "ehh whatever". A few years later, the place burned to the ground, and one of the guys I worked with that summer, who now lived in the town, sent me a story from the local paper. It turns out that the previous owner who lived there was a shut-in type person after his wife died a decade or so prior, Didn't ever really come out much/do much, which explained the neglect. He had died about a year prior to us working on the house, but nobody found his body for at least 6 months. The people who had hired us was his estranged sons family, who had inherited the house and were trying to sell it.

The house had changed hands a couple of times in the several years after we had worked on it, nobody ever staying very long, and it growing a "haunted" legend in the town.

In the intrest of brevity, I left out some of the smaller parts of the story that were strange, or could have been explained away easier, but suffice to say, some weird stuff was going on while we were there. I'm not one that really believes in ghosts or anything, but I have no way of explaining some of the stuff that happened there in any rational way. Thinking about it still gives me the chills. Nobody was aware of the story behind the house when we were working there, and you could tell after the toolbox incident everyone was truly on edge.
2006-10-31 10:43:44 AM  
rufie52: after some of the topless tfette and bottomless tfer pics I have seen, nothing scares me

Remember that hot WIE I sent you?
2006-10-31 10:44:11 AM  
It was a dark and stormy night. I was climbing down my basement steps and suddenly felt 2 paws grab my ankle. It was my cat, Mew, "playing". I think she's trying to kill me. She does this almost any time someone walks down the stairs.
2006-10-31 10:46:08 AM  
My wifes' dad passed away in '86 on the couch in the living room of the house we live in now. We've lived here 19 years,the couch is long gone and the living room has been re-arranged many times,but none of the cats we've had will ever set foot in that corner of the room.
2006-10-31 10:47:45 AM  
It's long. It's here(pops).
2006-10-31 10:47:47 AM  
rufie52: after some of the topless tfette and bottomless tfer pics I have seen, nothing scares me

You haven't received WIE from me yet. I hear that will turn any womans stomach.
2006-10-31 10:48:32 AM  
One time my car broke down out in the woods during a storm, I was forced to spend the night alone in this abandoned house. When I woke up my back was sore from sleeping on the hardwood floors

/it's true!
2006-10-31 10:49:47 AM  
I lived in a house with a ghost when I was in college. The oldest part of the house was a couple of hundred years old. One night I was lying in bed, wide awake, I heard the front door open and footsteps across the floor. I got up and went downstairs to see who came in. There was no one there and the door was closed.

Another night the skylight we put up (took down an old fireplace and chimney and put the skylight in) flew off the roof and landed in the yard. It was NOT a windy night.

The owner of the house dug up old bottles on the property and put them on the window sills (which were about 10 inches wide.)

Occasionally the bottles would fall off the window sills into the room. The bottles most likely to fall were blue medicine bottles.

I am not saying I believe in ghosts -- none of us really did. But a lot of strange things happened.
2006-10-31 10:50:12 AM  
NuttierThanEver: One time my car broke down out in the woods during a storm, I was forced to spend the night alone in this abandoned house. When I woke up my back was sore from sleeping on the hardwood floor

Similar thing happened to me. But it wasn't my back that was sore.
2006-10-31 10:50:36 AM  
Some of you have heard this before but it is the only ghost story I have or know. I'll try and keep it short.

This is true:

When I was a sophomore in college I had a formal event to go to and needed a tux. I was over at a friend's one day, and she told me she needed to get her roomate a birthday present, and suggested we go over to an antique and vintage clothing and jewlry store a few blocks away. I told her I might find a tux there, so we went.

As my friend looked at costume jewlry in several cases, I went back to the men's section of the small store and looked for a tuxedo. I did not find one, at least not one I liked.

But I did find a classic, pinstripe suit, black with gray stripes. I liked it, and looked at the price. $42. Something I could afford and I could use a suit anyway (I was in a couple of student organizations that called for a suit from tim to time). I tried it on, and except for the pants meeding some hemming, it fit well.

I bought the suit and took it home (alas, alas, I lived at home during college). I told my mom about the suit, and she asked to see it. So we went up to my room and I showed her the suit, and tried on the jacket.

My mom was checking the jacket out, feeling the quality of the lining, that kind of thing, and she reached into the pocket and pulled out a small card.

There were words typed on it.

My mom looked very, very confused and asked me where I had gotten it. I told her I got the suit at a shop downtown, and she asked, no, where did you get this, showing me the card.

I read the words on the card.

And I felt the blood run from my face.

I told her I'd never seen it before. She told me I must have. I swore I'd never seen it before, and if it was in the suit, it was in the suit when I bought it. She said that was impossible. We went back and forth like this for a few minutes. My mom was confused and freaked out.

The next day I went back to the shop where I had purchased the suit, and went to the counter and spoke with the woman there. I asked her where she got her clothes. She told me that she got a lot from thrift stores, places like that. She also told me that her sister owned a similar store in Ohio.

I started to go a little numb then.

"Where in Ohio?" I asked.


I know I went numb then. It was the numbness that comes when learning that something that is almost impossible has happened.

I went numb because I was born in Portsmouth, Ohio, a few miles from Chillicothe. My father was also born and raised in Portsmouth.

In 1969, almost eight months before I was born, my father doed in a boating accident on the Ohio River. His name was Bill Atkinson. I never met him.

The card in the pocket of the suit jacket was a membership card in the Nationsal Honor Society.

According to the card, it had been issued in Portsmouth, Ohio. To William K. Atkinson.

I had purchased my father's suit.

Twenty years and 500 miles after his death, at a random shop unconnected withanything else in my life, I had purchased my father's suit.
2006-10-31 10:51:25 AM  
I think it's scary when people relate ghost stories then say they don't believe in ghosts, but, hey, how can you explain that?11!!!???!?
2006-10-31 10:51:53 AM  
2006-10-31 10:53:12 AM  
I once had little children come to my door looking for candy. Children!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!1!!

2006-10-31 10:53:19 AM  
Spoookier still is how badly I edited that post for spelling errors.
2006-10-31 10:55:53 AM  
I love these threads, by the way.

My story:

My family farm outside Cincinnati still stands. No one lives there anymore, and the land is mostly gone, but the house and several outbuildings still exist. It was built around 1850 by the first Beckers in America. A beautiful old home.

I was visiting relatives there in the fall of 2000, and as per usual, we went to check out The Farm, as we call it, mostly because I wanted my wife to see it.

As we were driving up, I saw, no joke, a handsome young black man standing in the kitchen doorway. I knew the house was vacant, I knew that no one should be in there, so it immediately sent my hackles up. He was there, clear as day, starting out at us as we drove up. I was mere seconds from saying, 'is someone here? Who is that guy?' when he dissappeared.

It freaked me out. I did not tell anyone, even my wife, for a few weeks.

The spooky part is that the basement was used as a stopover on the Underground Railroad.
2006-10-31 10:56:31 AM  
Man, you think if your father cared he would have sent along a haunted tux, seeing as thats what you really needed.

damn parents.....
2006-10-31 10:57:32 AM  
Awesome. Green.

Cool Story Lars. Horrific spelling ;)
2006-10-31 10:57:33 AM  
The server... was down!
2006-10-31 10:58:25 AM  
I work in Newark, NJ.
2006-10-31 10:58:26 AM  
Not really a "ghost" story, but a tale of the uncanny nonetheless....Read if you dare.

when I was younger, I used to get headaches. Like I would black out and see sparkle-y tingly thingies in my head, and it was like I could see the future. Like I could anticipate things before they happened, or "knew" things others didn't. The first time I saw "The Shining" I was like, "holy crap, I have The Shine!"

So one day, when I was about 6, my mom and I were at the gas station, and she went inside to pay. It was really hot and I started to feel sick. I felt the headache come on, and I knew I was about to have one of my "episodes". I tried to fight it but I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough. So I blacked out and had this vision that scared me.

So my mom came back to the car, and she says "wait -- where's my purse? Where's my purse?"

And I felt sick. My stomach was wrenched and I started sobbing. I said "your purse is in the store, mom."

The Shine told me her purse was in the store. And it was.

2006-10-31 10:59:45 AM  
I awakened to an odd sound and found myself blindfolded and immobilized. My head was killing me, and I was obviously bleeding from several small cuts. Someone was in the room with me, and all I could hear was farting and cackling, farting and cackling. I was terrified.

Occasionally the person would come up to me and make another cut on me. I had a ballgag in my mouth. The pain was excruciating, but I could not scream.

Suddenly, I heard another person walk into the room. The two began to converse.

"I think he's had enough CcSteff."
"Dammit, MyrnaMinkoff! I was just getting started."
"Jesus girl, what have you been eating?"

Then one of the clocked me with something.

I awakened in the woods, naked and freezing and covered in dried blood. The smell of flatulence lingered faintly in the air.

I decided then and there I would never ever ever drink with another TFette again.
2006-10-31 10:59:56 AM  
The only experience I've ever really had was when I was really little, around 3 or 4 years old. I woke up in the middle of the night and saw some lady standing at the foot of my bed. Strange thing was, I wasnt scared, she and I just kind of looked at each other until she put her finger to her lips to tell me to be quiet so I rolled over and went back to sleep.

The next day I woke up and told my mom about the lady at the foot of my bed. She acted kind of disinterested, like most parents do about their children's wild stories, until she asked me to describe the lady.

Turns out the night before my great-grandmother (my mother's grandmother, who I had never met before in my life) had passed away. I described this woman who I had never seen before almost perfectly, except I described her how she looked when she was in her twenties. I know this because, after describing the lady, my mother pulled out an old photograph of my great-grandmother when she was that age and that was the lady I had seen.

I had never seen the picture before in my life.

My mother and I still dont talk about it.
2006-10-31 10:59:59 AM  
rickythepenguin: The Shine

'The Shine' = deductive logic
2006-10-31 11:03:02 AM  
I live in southeast Oklahoma

/the horror!
2006-10-31 11:03:55 AM  
I find it scary submitter can't spell "Halloween".
2006-10-31 11:04:29 AM  
We lived in a 1797 farmhouse for 15 years, and have a bunch of stories. One of them began in the first months after we moved in with our 3 year old son.

One day he was in his bedroom talking to someone. When we asked who he said, "Mr Man"; we smiled and forgot it, his imaginary friend.

Over a few weeks he started talking more about "Mr Man", and we asked about him. Mr Man was described as being short, red-headed, dirty hands, and walking with a limp. He always wore 'pants like mine' (big overalls), and dirty boots. Mr Man told the kid he used to live in the house. He also told him not to drop toys in the water like his own children had done - WTF, there was no water around.

Mr Man was his 'friend' for a couple of years, then quit coming around.

Doing research on the house a few years later, we discovered the place was once owned by a Civil War veteran, who had been wounded and walked with a noticable limp. He was a blacksmith and farmer, who stayed in the place until 1903 (dirty hands, muddy boots, overalls?). We even found a picture of him in the country archieves; he was a very short man. He had also been known in the community as 'red' (for his hair color?).

A few years later we tore down an outbuilding and discoverd a cistren under it. I pumped it dry to cap it for safety and found a marbles, dolls, and other toys in the bottom.

There are other stories from that house which are not as 'friendy'.
2006-10-31 11:04:32 AM  
rickythepenguin: The Shine

Don't say that! ya want ta get SUED?

/sorry, looking for the Simpsons thread.
2006-10-31 11:04:51 AM  
HulkHands: The server... was down!


/the horror
2006-10-31 11:05:08 AM  
We had a door that wouldn't stay shut. It had a heavy forged latch on it that had to come up about 3/4" to open it. No matter what it would be open in the morning. One night my wife was joking and said, 'Quit opening my damned door'. The door stayed closed for two weeks.

One room we never used also had a door to the porch. That door had a deadbolt lock, a sliding bolt, and childproof latch at the top. The wife went into that room one evening for some reason and found muddy footprints leading from the door to the main part of the house.

Back at the kitchen table she said she guessed whoever was opening the kitchen door was coming in that way now. Laughing, she said, 'You can use whatever door you like', and within 3 seconds the clasp on the kitchen door clicked and the door opened.
2006-10-31 11:06:12 AM  
Once I was out drinking around a campfire with some guys and we got really drunk and I passed out. The next morning my rectum was ... painful.

Damn ghosts.
2006-10-31 11:07:10 AM  
There is a small town near where I live that has a bridge they call the Seven Devil's bridge. If you put you car in neutral, the car rolls uphill. You can't drive across the bridge at midnight; your car will stall out. People try to walk across the bridge at midnight, for some reason they can't do it.

Converse College is eat up with ghosts too. Mean ones, supposedly. They will scream at you, lock you in rooms, etc.
2006-10-31 11:07:29 AM  
mom and dad saw my grandad's apparition at the exact same time while they were continents apart

mom was attending the funeral in Bombay when she saw her vision & dad was home with us. she called him up the second she saw it & my dad corresponded with her.

They both saw him clothed in the exact same clothes - his favourite attire: a white shirt & a munnd (like a multi layered sarong of sorts)

im not particularly religious and into metaphysical concepts - but after that , im just unsure...

They're pretty rational folk, but it was unnerving - we dont speak about it much now
2006-10-31 11:07:44 AM  
A couple of weeks ago, I was in an old abandoned warehouse in Charlotte where workers were preparing for CarnEvil (a large Halloween party for charity). I was walking in the connecting tunnel between the two buildings when I heard distinctly and clearly a female child's voice say "Drive safely". Turning around, there was no one in the tunnel, nor were any workers within earshot, not to mention there was no reason for a child to be inside an abandoned warehouse. I hustled back to the main warehouse part and found my friends has already walked outside and said nobody else has come outside.

Ironically enough, I was almost hit by a vehicle merging into my lane while on the interstate heading home.

I still don't know where the sound came from...
2006-10-31 11:12:35 AM  
I'm living it every day.

Some biker dude I met a few weekends ago (and I do like bikers, nothing wrong with the decent ones), keeps trying to get a date with me. Something really creeps me out about this guy, he kind of looks like Will Ferrell.

Anyhow, he's been giving me the creeps ever since.
2006-10-31 11:12:50 AM  
LarsThorwald's story gets my vote for the compelling creepy/sad double-whammy. Bravo, sir.
2006-10-31 11:14:10 AM  
Not really a ghost story but somewhat creepy--I went to the library to work on a report when I was in high school, opened up the first book I pulled out and my full name was written on the first page. My report was on some obscure governmental law that I had never read about before, and there was just no damned reason for my name to be inside that book.

I had some really bizarre Ouija board experiences too--in retrospect I don't think it was "ghosts", but it's crazy what can come out of your subconscious.
2006-10-31 11:14:30 AM  
Not a ghost story.. but this is one of the creepier things that has happened to me (It's a little long.. sorry):

My friend Chris and I went for a night hike out at Sanderson Brook Falls, a steep uphill march in the Berkshire Region of Western Massachusetts. The drive out there takes close to an hour, most of it along US Rt.20 also known as "the Jacobs Ladder Trail". Winding its way between mountains, hills and a river the route takes drivers through Westfield, a fairly well populated college town, and then on through Russell, Huntington, Chester and if you keep going past Chester State Forest it will continue to run parallel to the Massachusetts Turnpike into Becket and eventually to Lee.

As usual, Chris missed the turn-off into the narrow and overgrown dirt road that went a quarter mile into the trees and then turned off downhill into a grassy little clearing, where we parked. There was a larger parking area out front, but it was in full view of the street. The area was completely concealed from the road, so we wouldn't have any cops waiting to ticket us when we got back for being in the park after dark.

Putting the BMW in reverse, Chris brought his car back to the dirt road and pulled forward into it. I commented on the fact that there were two cars in the roadside parking area.

Parking the car, I realized that we hadn't brought a flashlight like we usually do, so Chris dug the crappy flashlight that comes standard in a BMW's glove box. It was fairly bright out for so long after nightfall, a full moon illuminating to a point that the flashlight would only become necessary if we had to pass through a particularly dark patch in the woods.

A crisp autumn breeze reminded me to throw on my jacket before we started out.

Marching up the wide path that led up a mile or so into the woods, we were talking about whatever B.S. popped into our heads; work, movies, books... whatever.

It wasn't until we got past the first quarter mile area that things started getting strange.

Ahead of us four people were coming toward us in the shaded darkness of the broad path. I could see patches of detail as they passed through brighter areas where the moonlight made it to the dirt.

I thought to myself how odd it were that there would be four people; three men and one woman, for two cars. Four would easily have fit into either of the cars, why waste the gas driving out into the middle of nowhere with two cars?

I knew they weren't locals, as the cars had both been Volkswagens (not pickup trucks) and their clothes looked like nice preppy college kid clothes, the girl was in a pea coat, the guys in nondescript gray and black jackets. I assumed they were college kids who came up here to drink around a campfire, although none of them seemed to be carrying a cooler or anything.

I nodded to the four as we passed, and one of the men nodded back, but he had an odd, curious look on his face. No word was spoken between our two groups. They continued on.

I looked to my watch and saw that it was only a little after 10:30pm. An odd time to stop drinking and go home on a Saturday night. I commented on it to Chris after the four were out of hearing range and he said that they were probably just out here for the same reason we were. Just having a night hike. It seemed logical enough for me so I dismissed the troop we had just passed as nothing interesting.

So when we passed the next group of three on our way up the hill, I thought nothing of that as well. I just assumed they were the occupants of the other car and were either completely unrelated to the first group, or were stragglers. They were dressed similar, in uninteresting dark colors. The three were all guys, and as they passed one of them asked us what time it was. I told him, not stopping as I did. They thanked us and were soon behind us disappearing into the darkness.

Now, up until this point you are probably saying to yourself that there was nothing weird about all of that. Well, all of that doesn't become weird until I get to the next part.

Another quarter of a mile brought us to the horde. We had just crossed the first of the two small iron bridges that were on the path. The bridges were separated by maybe a quarter of a mile, and spanned over 10 foot drop-offs with fast running streams at the bottom. The streams fed into the river after the falls.

As the next group of people came into view, I had difficulty distinguishing just how many people it was, and I realized after the fact that it was because there were just too many of them. They must have numbered close to fifty, all dressed in the same manner as those we had already passed, nothing odd about their clothes other than all of them seemed to be dressed nicely. Dark pea coats, waistcoats and leather jackets on every person. A couple of the women had scarves. Everyone in the group I could see seemed to be roughly the same age, that being in their early twenties. I scanned the incoming mass for coolers or any sign that this was a disbanding kegger, and saw nothing of the sort.

As we moved into amidst the opposing traffic, I was trying to think of how all these people had gotten here if there were only two cars at the bottom of the hill. While I was pondering this, I found out later, one of the passing women had spoken to Chris, saying "You're going the wrong way dear," almost dreamily and then she continued on. Other than that, there was almost no sign that any of these people were even seeing us.

As we kept walking, the strangers continued to file past. We kept walking and for a while I was sure that this flow of people was going to be never-ending. Chris and I didn't speak to each other; we just looked to each other with occasional confusion and kept on pushing forward. Then the tail end of this mass came into view, just now crossing the second bridge.

We reached just before the iron grated deck of the bridge as the last of them were getting off the bridge. There were about ten of them in this small grouping, and at either side of this group were two men who were slightly shorter than the rest of the men around them, both were Asian or pacific islanders by appearance. I moved to pass on the right and Chris went to the left. As I tried to go around the short man on my side, he moved in my way, blocking me from stepping onto the bridge, ranting something in what seemed to be absolute gibberish and I later came to realize reminded me a lot of the Filipino language Tagalog. He sounded like boiling water, but I could tell he didn't want me to pass. He tucked his shoulder into my chest as though to push me into turning around. I put my hand out shoved him aside, not liking the way the situation was going, and said angrily "MOVE".

The shorter man was forced out of the way by my palm and though he glared at me angrily, he made no effort to get back on the bridge to follow me.

Looking to my left I saw that Chris was now getting onto the bridge and he had an angry and confused look on his face as well.

He told me that the short Asian man on his side had actually grabbed his wrist and tried to hold him back. Chris had pulled his hand free and just kept on walking. He commented that the man had been talking gibberish. I told him about what had happened on my side and we both stopped, thinking for a second once we were over the bridge. We turned and watched the last of the large group disappear into the gloom.

"That was damn surreal," I said.

"Yeah it was. What were they, cultists or something?" Chris said back.

Starting forward again, with no intentions of heading back down the hill any time soon we only made it a few yards before more people appeared. This time though it was only three guys, but these three were dressed in sweat suits and they were running down the hill. They stopped very briefly as though catching their breath, and we saw that they were also of about the same age as the rest of those we had seen. They looked exhausted though. After their moments rest, they launched into a fast paced jog down the hill toward where we had seen the mass of strangers go only moments before. Back toward the Tagalog Bros. and the Wrong Way girl.

Shaking my head at the absolute absurdity of all we had just seen, Chris and I continued walking, reaching the off-turn to the big waterfall and took it. We walked in silence for a few minutes and then began speculating on what that had all been about. I was very surprised and a little disconcerted when we reached the base of the waterfall and saw that there was no evidence of a party. This was one of three good party spots in the Sanderson Brook Falls area of Chester State Forest. One of the other two was out near the road, well before the large group of people. This left only the big clearing that was back next to the creepy freestanding ancient chimney. After taking a break and having a smoke next to the falls, we decided to forgo climbing the waterfall and go back up to the main path to check out the chimney spot.

Curiosity had gotten the better of us, and by the time we reached the clearing we were unsurprised to see that there were only the smoldering remains of a small fire. We took the overgrown stone stairs up into the small area where the giant chimney stood. Even though we had camped right in front of the chimney before and been up here many times, I don't think that chimney ever seemed creepier than it did that night. But again, there was no evidence of any party.

It was a weird walk back down to the car, mostly silent, and the conversation that did happen was always strangely off the subject of the strangers. When we got back to the car there was no sign of any of the people, and the two cars were gone.

To this day I wonder what all those people were doing up on the mountain that night, where they had gone to with only two cars for nearly sixty people, and why we had been going the wrong way.
2006-10-31 11:14:31 AM  
[image from too old to be available]

no scary stories per se, but the guy who illustrated the "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" series is responsible for years of nightmares.

[image from too old to be available]
2006-10-31 11:14:40 AM  
I was fishing on the side of a creek once when over on the other side I saw a large black hairy creature staring at me.
I tried not to let on that I knew it was there as i reeled in my line packed up my stuff and walked slowly to the car.
It never moved until I started the car then it ran off into the woods.
2006-10-31 11:15:23 AM  
[image from too old to be available]

no scary stories per se, but the guy who illustrated the "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" series is responsible for years of nightmares.
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