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(Fark)   Can we get this year's Halloween / spooky story thread going? I need my fix, I've been jonesing all month   (fark.com) divider line
    More: Scary  
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4219 clicks; posted to Main » on 31 Oct 2012 at 9:57 AM (8 years ago)   |   Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook



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2012-10-30 9:23:59 PM  
This one time we were at a party in this big deserted house at the end of our road. It was late, dark outside, we had lit the place with candles. I went to the kitchen I opened the fridge and THERE WAS NO BEER LEFT!
 
2012-10-30 9:37:14 PM  
Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.

So I was driving by myself in the afternoon. I stopped in Amboy and snapped a picture of the city sign, just to prove I was there to friends who dared me to take that route to I-40. I got back in my car and proceeded to drive up into the mountain range between Amboy and I-40.

Once I reach the top I am driving north through a canyon with high grass on both sides of the road. Up ahead I see some stuff in the middle of the road. As I approach I slow down to see a red Pontiac Fiero stopped sideways across both lanes, a suitcase open with clothes scattered everywhere and two bodies laying face down in the road, a man and a woman.

I stop a hundred feet or so away and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Being a Marine, I reach under the seat and pull out a 9mm pistol and chamber a round. Something seemed very wrong, it looked too perfect as if it were staged. An ambush? Was I being paranoid? Something was just wrong. Getting out of the car seemed unthinkable, it was the horror movie move.

As I scanned the road I saw a line I could drive. Pass the guy in the road on his left, swerve to the right side of the woman, behind the Fiero and I'd be on the other side. I dropped it into first gear, punched it and drove the line I planned.

I passed the back of the Fierro without hitting it or either of the bodies in the road. I continued forward a couple hundred feet and slowed down so I could breathe and let my heart slow down. As I looked up into the rearview mirror I saw that the two bodies had gotten up to their knees and twenty or so people emerged from the tall grass on either side of the road by the car and bodies.

At that moment my right foot smashed the gas pedal to the floor and did not let up until I had to slowdown for the I-40 east onramp.

I will never know what would have happened to me had I gotten out of the car to check on the bodies or stopped my car closer to them. Somehow I do not think it would have been good. Sometimes real life can be scarier than a movie.
 
2012-10-30 9:41:07 PM  
I posted this in an earlier thread today:

A few years ago, I was playing in a band and we slept in a reportedly haunted music hall. (It was a benefit show in a small town, the proprietor let us spend the night there free.) My bandmates all went to bed before midnight, but I spent the night wandering the streets aimlessly. When I returned, they were all sleeping, and had been sleeping for several hours. I think it was around 3:30 AM when I finally knocked off.

Sometime around daybreak, I heard what sounds like a band setting up - carts hauling around, bleachers being pulled out, things like that. Nothing really electrical, more nondescript, like heavy objects being dragged across the floor. I assumed it was my bandmates shuffling around, and after just four hours of sleep I wanted no part of it, so I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to sleep more. Eventually the noise subsided.

When I eventually woke up for real, I found that my bandmates had all slept in too. Nobody had woken up yet. Nobody else heard the noise I heard. We were in there alone.
 
2012-10-30 11:07:29 PM  
On March 31st of this year I was in San Angelo TX

GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

DUN
DUN
DUUUUUUNNNN!!!!
 
2012-10-31 12:35:01 AM  
Happy Halloween from Down Under. The story I have is not mine, but belongs to a guy I know here.

At the mouth of the Swan River, just southwest of Perth, Western Australia, lies Fremantle. It's a somewhat touristy, somewhat bohemian enclave; it's been Perth's port since the 1830s. Before European settlement, for 40,000 years or so, Fremantle was a river crossing considered sacred by the Whadjuk group of Nyungar Aborigines. In addition to being Perth's port, Fremantle was, between 1850 and 1991, the home to Western Australia's largest jail: Fremantle Prison. It's now a tourist attraction, where you can go on night tours and they'll have some cheap scares, like actors dressing up as crazed prisoners. Other notable sites in the prison include a window which supposedly contains an image of Martha Rendell (the only woman to be hanged in WA) and the gallows where Perth serial killer Eric Edgar Cooke, the "Night Caller" was hanged on in 1964 (he was the last person hanged in WA; interestingly, he was buried in the same grave as Rendell). Freo Jail has a long, dark history.

Anyway, this guy I know is responsible for shepherding groups of foreigners around the Perth area and one of the most common places he'll take people to is Fremantle Prison. He's been maybe 10 or 12 times. A few years ago, he began having dreams, dreams which haunted him. He and his family lived in an old house (early 20th century---a lot of Perth's not that old). Soon, things started getting weird at the house: strange noises in the night mainly. It turns out that his family were also having dreams as well. It perturbed him, perhaps because he lacked any explanation. One day, he was chatting with a friend of his, an Aborigine. When he told his friend about the strange things going on at his house, the friend asked, out of the blue, if his family were having strange dreams. In the Australian Aboriginal culture, dreams are sort of like messages, they are something to be taken seriously. The Aboriginal man then explained: Fremantle Prison is haunted, quite possibly one of the most haunted places in WA. This guy I know had visited it many times. According to the Aboriginal man, the ghosts were recognizing him, and were following him home, thinking he was one of them. The Aboriginal gentleman then warned him: "you must not go back to Fremantle Prison, unless you wish for the ghosts to follow you around permanently."

To this day, he refuses to go inside the prison itself (he'll lead groups in to the courtyard, but he won't take the tour). And this story is his explanation. That, or he got tired of the same tour year, after year, after year...
 
2012-10-31 12:51:09 AM  
Romney is elected. That should scare the bejesus out of some people.
 
2012-10-31 12:53:31 AM  
I have family in Florida.

/your mom
 
2012-10-31 12:54:32 AM  

baka-san: On March 31st of this year I was in San Angelo TX


That's scary enough without the rest of it.
 
2012-10-31 12:55:41 AM  

baka-san: On March 31st of this year I was in San Angelo TX

GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

DUN
DUN
DUUUUUUNNNN!!!!


We want spooky stories, not life-ending horror stories.
 
2012-10-31 12:57:31 AM  
 
2012-10-31 12:58:45 AM  

Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.

So I was driving by myself in the afternoon. I stopped in Amboy and snapped a picture of the city sign, just to prove I was there to friends who dared me to take that route to I-40. I got back in my car and proceeded to drive up into the mountain range between Amboy and I-40.

Once I reach the top I am driving north through a canyon with high grass on both sides of the road. Up ahead I see some stuff in the middle of the road. As I approach I slow down to see a red Pontiac Fiero stopped sideways across both lanes, a suitcase open with clothes scattered everywhere and two bodies laying face down in the road, a man and a woman.

I stop a hundred feet or so away and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Being a Marine, I reach under the seat and pull out a 9mm pistol and chamber a round. Something seemed very wrong, it looked too perfect as if it were staged. An ambush? Was I being paranoid? Something was just wrong. Getting out of the car seemed unthinkable, it was the horror movie move.

As I scanned the road I saw a line I could drive. Pass the guy in the road on his left, swerve to the right side of the woman, behind the Fiero and I'd be on the other side. I dropped it into first gear, punched it and drove the line I planned.

I passed the back of the Fierro without ...


If you think it was scary reading it, you should have been sitting in the drivers seat... ;)
 
2012-10-31 12:59:39 AM  
Visit the politics tab. That should be all the scary you need.
 
2012-10-31 12:59:39 AM  
once upon a midnight dreary, while i pron surfed, weak and weary, over many a strange and spurious site of ' hot xxx galore'. While i clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning, and my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour, " 'Tis not possible!", i muttered, " give me back my free hardcore!"..... quoth the server, 404.
*cries*, scary....


/All props to bash
 
2012-10-31 1:00:17 AM  
......His sweater was neatly folded on the grave, so he went back to the car, and the severed hook was hanging from the door handle, because the calls were coming from inside the house!
 
2012-10-31 1:00:30 AM  
Abort, Retry, Ignore?

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer,
I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
>From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will be one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?" 


/That one is not aging well.
 
2012-10-31 1:00:42 AM  
One of our resident GOP bots: and then .... Obama was re-elected! *scary music*
 
2012-10-31 1:01:37 AM  
i went to taco bell and had a fish taco, but a fish taco wasn't on the menu....
 
2012-10-31 1:02:24 AM  

Bathia_Mapes: story.


...duuuuuuuuude...

Haven't heard that one before...and it gave me the jibblies something fierce.
 
2012-10-31 1:02:25 AM  
THEN WHO WAS PHONE???
 
2012-10-31 1:04:20 AM  
Here is my daughter on my piano
 
2012-10-31 1:04:38 AM  
"I keep getting these robo calls about the election, where are they coming from?"

"The calls are coming inside the house!"

So FARK is dialing me? I knew I should have disconnected the modem on that old laptop.
 
2012-10-31 1:06:02 AM  

nmemkha: One of our resident GOP bots: and then .... Obama was re-elected! *scary music*


Herp vs. Derp. May the most herpiest derpiest win!
 
2012-10-31 1:09:30 AM  
When I was in middle school I moved into a new house and when I went to bed I heard a tapping on the wall right above my head. I tried to think of what it could be as I stayed there silently freaking out. I thought that it would be a one time thing but then it happened the next night and the next. Eventually I moved my bed but the tapping happened again in the new location right above my head. It was very loud so I could hear it wherever .. it wasn't a noise that I could only near next to the wall. I moved my bed a third time and it happened again. One night I woke up because I felt a finger tap the top of my head. After a while though I stopped being afraid because I was just so annoyed. I tapped back and then just slept through it without saying up worrying. It went away after that.
 
2012-10-31 1:11:00 AM  
This ones a little long but I first read it in one of the previous Fark years Halloween threads and really liked it.

----------------

Russian researchers in the late 1940s kept five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas based stimulant. They were kept in a sealed environment to carefully monitor their oxygen intake so the gas didn't kill them, since it was toxic in high concentrations. This was before closed circuit cameras so they had only microphones and 5 inch thick glass porthole sized windows into the chamber to monitor them. The chamber was stocked with books, cots to sleep on but no bedding, running water and toilet, and enough dried food to last all five for over a month.
The test subjects were political prisoners deemed enemies of the state during World War II.

Everything was fine for the first five days; the subjects hardly complained having been promised (falsely) that they would be freed if they submitted to the test and did not sleep for 30 days. Their conversations and activities were monitored and it was noted that they continued to talk about increasingly traumatic incidents in their past, and the general tone of their conversations took on a darker aspect after the 4 day mark.
After five days they started to complain about the circumstances and events that lead them to where they were and started to demonstrate severe paranoia. They stopped talking to each other and began alternately whispering to the microphones and one way mirrored portholes. Oddly they all seemed to think they could win the trust of the experimenters by turning over their comrades, the other subjects in captivity with them. At first the researchers suspected this was an effect of the gas itself...
After nine days the first of them started screaming. He ran the length of the chamber repeatedly yelling at the top of his lungs for 3 hours straight, he continued attempting to scream but was only able to produce occasional squeaks. The researchers postulated that he had physically torn his vocal cords. The most surprising thing about this behavior is how the other captives reacted to it... or rather didn't react to it. They continued whispering to the microphones until the second of the captives started to scream. The 2 non-screaming captives took the books apart, smeared page after page with their own feces and pasted them calmly over the glass portholes. The screaming promptly stopped.

So did the whispering to the microphones.

After 3 more days passed. The researchers checked the microphones hourly to make sure they were working, since they thought it impossible that no sound could be coming with 5 people inside. The oxygen consumption in the chamber indicated that all 5 must still be alive. In fact it was the amount of oxygen 5 people would consume at a very heavy level of strenuous exercise. On the morning of the 14th day the researchers did something they said they would not do to get a reaction from the captives, they used the intercom inside the chamber, hoping to provoke any response from the captives they were afraid were either dead or vegetables.

They announced: "We are opening the chamber to test the microphones step away from the door and lie flat on the floor or you will be shot. Compliance will earn one of you your immediate freedom."

To their surprise they heard a single phrase in a calm voice response: "We no longer want to be freed."

Debate broke out among the researchers and the military forces funding the research. Unable to provoke any more response using the intercom it was finally decided to open the chamber at midnight on the fifteenth day.

The chamber was flushed of the stimulant gas and filled with fresh air and immediately voices from the microphones began to object. 3 different voices began begging, as if pleading for the life of loved ones to turn the gas back on. The chamber was opened and soldiers sent in to retrieve the test subjects. They began to scream louder than ever, and so did the soldiers when they saw what was inside. Four of the five subjects were still alive, although no one could rightly call the state that any of them in 'life.'

The food rations past day 5 had not been so much as touched. There were chunks of meat from the dead test subject's thighs and chest stuffed into the drain in the center of the chamber, blocking the drain and allowing 4 inches of water to accumulate on the floor. Precisely how much of the water on the floor was actually blood was never determined. All four 'surviving' test subjects also had large portions of muscle and skin torn away from their bodies. The destruction of flesh and exposed bone on their finger tips indicated that the wounds were inflicted by hand, not with teeth as the researchers initially thought. Closer examination of the position and angles of the wounds indicated that most if not all of them were self-inflicted.

The abdominal organs below the ribcage of all four test subjects had been removed. While the heart, lungs and diaphragm remained in place, the skin and most of the muscles attached to the ribs had been ripped off, exposing the lungs through the ribcage. All the blood vessels and organs remained intact, they had just been taken out and laid on the floor, fanning out around the eviscerated but still living bodies of the subjects. The digestive tract of all four could be seen to be working, digesting food. It quickly became apparent that what they were digesting was their own flesh that they had ripped off and eaten over the course of days.

Most of the soldiers were Russian special operatives at the facility, but still many refused to return to the chamber to remove the test subjects. They continued to scream to be left in the chamber and alternately begged and demanded that the gas be turned back on, lest they fall asleep...

To everyone's surprise the test subjects put up a fierce fight in the process of being removed from the chamber. One of the Russian soldiers died from having his throat ripped out, another was gravely injured by having his testicles ripped off and an artery in his leg severed by one of the subject's teeth. Another 5 of the soldiers lost their lives if you count ones that committed suicide in the weeks following the incident.

In the struggle one of the four living subjects had his spleen ruptured and he bled out almost immediately. The medical researchers attempted to sedate him but this proved impossible. He was injected with more than ten times the human dose of a morphine derivative and still fought like a cornered animal, breaking the ribs and arm of one doctor. When heart was seen to beat for a full two minutes after he had bled out to the point there was more air in his vascular system than blood. Even after it stopped he continued to scream and flail for another 3 minutes, struggling to attack anyone in reach and just repeating the word "MORE" over and over, weaker and weaker, until he finally fell silent.

The surviving three test subjects were heavily restrained and moved to a medical facility, the two with intact vocal cords continuously begging for the gas demanding to be kept awake...

The most injured of the three was taken to the only surgical operating room that the facility had. In the process of preparing the subject to have his organs placed back within his body it was found that he was effectively immune to the sedative they had given him to prepare him for the surgery. He fought furiously against his restraints when the anesthetic gas was brought out to put him under. He managed to tear most of the way through a 4 inch wide leather strap on one wrist, even through the weight of a 200 pound soldier holding that wrist as well. It took only a little more anesthetic than normal to put him under, and the instant his eyelids fluttered and closed, his heart stopped. In the autopsy of the test subject that died on the operating table it was found that his blood had triple the normal level of oxygen. His muscles that were still attached to his skeleton were badly torn and he had broken 9 bones in his struggle to not be subdued. Most of them were from the force his own muscles had exerted on them.

The second survivor had been the first of the group of five to start screaming. His vocal cords destroyed he was unable to beg or object to surgery, and he only reacted by shaking his head violently in disapproval when the anesthetic gas was brought near him. He shook his head yes when someone suggested, reluctantly, they try the surgery without anesthetic, and did not react for the entire 6 hour procedure of replacing his abdominal organs and attempting to cover them with what remained of his skin. The surgeon presiding stated repeatedly that it should be medically possible for the patient to still be alive. One terrified nurse assisting the surgery stated that she had seen the patients mouth curl into a smile several times, whenever his eyes met hers.

When the surgery ended the subject looked at the surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, attempting to talk while struggling. Assuming this must be something of drastic importance the surgeon had a pen and pad fetched so the patient could write his message. It was simple. "Keep cutting."

The other two test subjects were given the same surgery, both without anesthetic as well. Although they had to be injected with a paralytic for the duration of the operation. The surgeon found it impossible to perform the operation while the patients laughed continuously. Once paralyzed the subjects could only follow the attending researchers with their eyes. The paralytic cleared their system in an abnormally short period of time and they were soon trying to escape their bonds. The moment they could speak they were again asking for the stimulant gas. The researchers tried asking why they had injured themselves, why they had ripped out their own guts and why they wanted to be given the gas again.

Only one response was given: "I must remain awake."

All three subject's restraints were reinforced and they were placed back into the chamber awaiting determination as to what should be done with them. The researchers, facing the wrath of their military 'benefactors' for having failed the stated goals of their project considered euthanizing the surviving subjects. The commanding officer, an ex-KGB instead saw potential, and wanted to see what would happen if they were put back on the gas. The researchers strongly objected, but were overruled.

In preparation for being sealed in the chamber again the subjects were connected to an EEG monitor and had their restraints padded for long term confinement. To everyone's surprise all three stopped struggling the moment it was let slip that they were going back on the gas. It was obvious that at this point all three were putting up a great struggle to stay awake. One of subjects that could speak was humming loudly and continuously; the mute subject was straining his legs against the leather bonds with all his might, first left, then right, then left again for something to focus on. The remaining subject was holding his head off his pillow and blinking rapidly. Having been the first to be wired for EEG most of the researchers were monitoring his brain waves in surprise. They were normal most of the time but sometimes flat lined inexplicably. It looked as if he were repeatedly suffering brain death, before returning to normal. As they focused on paper scrolling out of the brainwave monitor only one nurse saw his eyes slip shut at the same moment his head hit the pillow. His brainwaves immediately changed to that of deep sleep, then flatlined for the last time as his heart simultaneously stopped.

The only remaining subject that could speak started screaming to be sealed in now. His brainwaves showed the same flatlines as one who had just died from falling asleep. The commander gave the order to seal the chamber with both subjects inside, as well as 3 researchers. One of the named three immediately drew his gun and shot the commander point blank between the eyes, then turned the gun on the mute subject and blew his brains out as well.

He pointed his gun at the remaining subject, still restrained to a bed as the remaining members of the medical and research team fled the room. "I won't be locked in here with these things! Not with you!" he screamed at the man strapped to the table. "WHAT ARE YOU?" he demanded. "I must know!"

The subject smiled.

"Have you forgotten so easily?" The subject asked. "We are you. We are the madness that lurks within you all, begging to be free at every moment in your deepest animal mind. We are what you hide from in your beds every night. We are what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread."

The researcher paused. Then aimed at the subject's heart and fired. The EEG flatlined as the subject weakly choked out, "So... nearly... free..."
 
2012-10-31 1:11:36 AM  
For those of you who can get 640 AM KFI radio, tomorrow night, starting at 10pm, is Coast to Coast with George Nory (the old Art Bell show). Except it isn't Coast to Coast.... it is Ghost to Ghost for this one night. Callers call in ghost stories, all night long. Turn down the lights, burn a blunt or two, grab a bag of candy and enjoy.....
 
2012-10-31 1:11:52 AM  
OK, I'll give you these. From the house I grew up in.

Built in 1895. My fam moved in in 1975.

Apparently, a lot of people had experiences there. I never really did, however, I am a skeptic.

So, lets start.

The earliest I remember was me, my friend, and my mother were all sitting in the living room watching TV. All of a sudden, my friend and my mother looked at each other and asked if they saw that...
Apparently, they both saw wavy white lines floating up the stairs. I was at an angle in the living room where I couldn't see the stairs.

One day, my GF and I were in my room, and my room was in the attic. I heard my mother calling me from downstairs, so I went out the door of my room, and turned right down the hallway towards the top of the attic stairs to answer my mother. At which point I heard my GF scream. I walked back to the room, and she swore that she saw someone walking towards left in the hallway, the opposite of the way I had just gone. She described it as solid, and wearing a colored shirt. I, being in the hallway, saw nothing, or heard nothing.

My sister for a short period, also had a room in the attic. There were three rooms there. Anyways,my sister had a habit of sleeping with her radio on, and I used to go and shut it off, cause it would keep me up. I was sleeping at a friends house the night in question. She says she was awake, with the lights off, listening to the radio. All of a sudden the stations started chaning, she assumed it was me, trying to shut the radio off, so she sits up and says "I'm still awake, leave it on" Except, I am not there. She says what was there was a small boy, dressed in a tuxedo, standing at the end of her bed. She screamed bloody murder, so badly, that my other brother downstairs heard the screams screamed up to her to her what was wrong. She says she was so scared that she pulled the covers over her head. My brother didnt hear any response, so he went back to sleep. She says she waited 10 minutes, and then looked again, except now the boy was standing directly next to her at the bed. Apparently she screamed so loud that my brother ran upstairs, turing on the hallway light in the attic on his way up. She says instantly when the lights came on, the boy disappeared.

There are lots more, I can go on, but it's late, and I may stop in again.

Oh, let me add this:
in 32004, the house was sold to my brother. He gut-renovated it, and when the pulled up the landing at the bottom of the stairs (where the white lights emanated form) they found an old straw hat, from 1895, and a shoe. Also from the same era.

A little weird, but apparently, it was good luck to plank a shoe in a house you were building, or something like that.
 
2012-10-31 1:12:46 AM  
So I was in the U.S. Army in my younger years, and my first duty station was Fort Irwin, California, aka the National Training Center, located smack dab in the middle of Mojave Desert ("30 miles from water, 3 feet from hell"). Nowadays they do these elaborate urban pacification exercises in full-blown "Arab" villages built in the desert there, but back then we were still doing brigade-sized force on force training...in layman's terms, we tore through the desert playing laser tag, only instead of little plastic guns we used assault rifles, machine guns, tanks, helicopters, and even jets. Every month they'd bring in a different unit from some other base in the U.S. and we'd roll out and "kill" them repeatedly in the hopes that they'd learn how not to die when people were shooting real rounds at them.

My job was in intelligence, which primarily consisted of listening in on the visiting unit's communications during the exercises. On one night, one of our teams was monitoring a radio frequency and heard one unit reporting back to their field headquarters:

Dispatched team: Hey, uh, base...look, I know this is going to sound weird and, uh, I don't want to be that guy, but...we're being followed by some kind of light in the sky and we have no idea what it is.
Base: Say again?
Team: It's just a light in the sky, it's been following us for a couple minutes now. I don't want to say "UFO", but...
Base: Is it moving? It might just be one of the radio repeater towers on the hills.
Team: Negative base, it is moving. It is not a helicopter and it's not any kind of aircraft any of us has seen before.
Base: Send your position, please.
Team: [sends encrypted grid coordinates] This is really freaking us out, base.
Base: Stand by.

A couple minutes pass, at which point the team calls in again:

Team: Disregard, base, it's gone now. We're going to go ahead and continue mission.
Base: Roger.

About ten minutes later our crew picked up another transmission on that network:
Team: Base, it's back again.

And that was the last they heard from that unit. Their field HQ tried to raise them repeatedly for the rest of the night but never got an answer. We sent the report up the chain as a potential "real world incident", but never heard back on that, either. 100% true, I was there.
 
2012-10-31 1:13:24 AM  

DblDad: THEN WHO WAS PHONE???


fark, came here to say this and you beat me to it. so....

NO JOHN, YOU ARE THE DEMONS.

And then John was a zombie.
 
2012-10-31 1:15:42 AM  
 
2012-10-31 1:22:35 AM  
We had a filming crew for the story of Midas and Judas and Pat. The day started out right for our scene taking place at a cabin near a pond just north of Poughkeepsie NY. The scene involved the lovers triangle being found out, and instead of them being pissed off, Midas and Judas compete for the love of Pat. Judas declares his love by throwing 30 pieces of silver into the pond. Midas corresponds by turning the pond into gold. Pat responds by making them wonder if they are gay or not. Just then a ghost came up and bit Pat's privy parts off. It has haunted every one since.
 
2012-10-31 1:26:47 AM  

Just Another OC Homeless Guy: For those of you who can get 640 AM KFI radio, tomorrow night, starting at 10pm, is Coast to Coast with George Nory (the old Art Bell show). Except it isn't Coast to Coast.... it is Ghost to Ghost for this one night. Callers call in ghost stories, all night long. Turn down the lights, burn a blunt or two, grab a bag of candy and enjoy.....


you do realize george nory is......coast to coast
 
2012-10-31 1:27:11 AM  
I was 15 years old and it was the first summer where my parents decided to take a weeklong vacation to visit my grandmother. This was great for me for two reasons, the first, I was allowed to stay home alone for the week, and the second, my mother had left me a 4 gallon tub of bubblegum ice-cream that she had told me to go wild on.
I stayed awake every night late, watching Japanese anime, drinking root-beer and eating the heck out of that bubble gum ice cream. I was in 15 year old boy Heaven.
On the second to last night of the week everything was going the same. It was three o clock in the morning when I finally finished the last episode of "bubblegum crisis" (which I'd loved watching while eating bubblegum ice-cream) and decided it was time to go downstairs to bed.
So I did.
I'm not sure what time it was when I woke up, my room was dark, I was laying in bed facing my wall and I could tell that if I didn't get out of bed my bladder was going to burst.
As I started to turn over in my bed so that I could climb out, something happened that to this day (34 years old now) I'll never forget.
From right beside my head, almost like a breath away from my ear I heard as clear as day a voice. The voice was strange though because it was devoid of all inflection, all tone, all emotion. It only spoke three words to me...
"Don't turn around"
That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."
 
2012-10-31 1:28:02 AM  
About 10 years ago my gf and I went on a road trip from Florida to Philly, and on the way back we decides to take a byway through the Apalachians. We went west from Philly through Harrisburg, then went south through West Virginia. We stopped for the night off some exit in WV, and ended up getting a room at a Knight's Inn. Our room was on the back side of the motel. When I pulled up to the room, there were like 5 hillbilly type guys sitting in old lawn chairs in a parking space next to what I think was a logging tuck. As far as I could tell we were the only two groups at the motel, me and my gf and the logger guys.

Anyway, we walk into the room and get a silent state-down from the hillbillies. We settled in, took showers, and were about to go eat when the phone rang. My gf answered, talked for a minute, then hung up. It was the motel clerk, and asked to move my car to the other side of the motel because they were paving that side in the morning.

So I go to move my car, and as I walk outside, I see the hillbilly guys are gone, and what was really creepy is that I saw one of them peeking peeking out of their window. Anyway, after I got in my car I realized I didn't know.where exactly to move it to, so I went back in the room and called the clerk back. "Hey uh, this is room 22, you just called and asked me to move the car, but where did you want me to move it? Over by check-in?" "Sorry sir, I don't follow. No one from the front desk called." "My girlfriend just spoke to someone, they asked me to move because you were paving the parking lot tomorrow." "Hold on."- a few seconds go by. "Sir, we're not paving the parking lot, and no one here called you. The only phone activity has been from... 21, right next door to you. Their line was lit about 10 minutes ago."
Click. That was enough for me. I grabbed our shiat and we got the fark out of there. I think we ended up staying in a busy Comfort Inn somewhere in Virginia.
 
2012-10-31 1:28:24 AM  

sethen320: echo5juliet: Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.

So I was driving by myself in the afternoon. I stopped in Amboy and snapped a picture of the city sign, just to prove I was there to friends who dared me to take that route to I-40. I got back in my car and proceeded to drive up into the mountain range between Amboy and I-40.

Once I reach the top I am driving north through a canyon with high grass on both sides of the road. Up ahead I see some stuff in the middle of the road. As I approach I slow down to see a red Pontiac Fiero stopped sideways across both lanes, a suitcase open with clothes scattered everywhere and two bodies laying face down in the road, a man and a woman.

I stop a hundred feet or so away and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Being a Marine, I reach under the seat and pull out a 9mm pistol and chamber a round. Something seemed very wrong, it looked too perfect as if it were staged. An ambush? Was I being paranoid? Something was just wrong. Getting out of the car seemed unthinkable, it was the horror movie move.

As I scanned the road I saw a line I could drive. Pass the guy in the road on his left, swerve to the right side of the woman, behind the Fiero and I'd be on the other side. I dropped it into first gear, punched it and drove the line I planned.

I passed the ...


I'm not sure which is the original story but I heard this one about 5 or 6 years ago except it was a doctor on some back roads and instead of "tall grass" on each side of the road there was just a mountain that the people emerged from.
 
2012-10-31 1:30:53 AM  
Other than the real news, this was my favorite scary story this year. "THEY" LIVE IN THE DESERT by WESTON OCHSE" This was on my local Public Radio Station last week. I thought it rather creepy. Here is link Link(You'll have to scroll to his "They Live in the Desert" spot on the page. It is a taping of the show so could not get https://radio.azpm.org/p/azspot/2012/10/25/17719-the-5th-annual-haunte d-halloween-arizona-spotlight/ direct link to the story.) It is worth it.
 
2012-10-31 1:34:29 AM  
There's an old hot-springs bath house in the town I grew up in called the Chimes. It's no longer in business, but when I was a kid it sold junk under the guise of 'antiques.'. We were restoring a 100 year old Victorian house and would often go there to find original hardware pieces. The house itself had a phantom dog we would see out of the corner of our eyes or hear growling, and one of the pieces of furniture my mother bought also had a ghost attached... but the antique store itself was haunted.

I was only 8 or 9 but I remember having a nice chat with a man in a brown suit in the Clock Room, He was in his 50s or 60s and wore something out of an earlier era. He was very nice and friendly, and looked perfectly normal. It wasn't until I read a news article later that I realized he wasn't alive.

On the alternate end of the spectrum, there was a hallway off the main building which led to the hot-springs baths. Something didn't like me being there. On some occasions I couldn't even enter the hallway. On others, I could only go so far in before it felt like something was pushing me out. I had this intense impression of something being angry with me. Once I made it all the way into the 'doctor's room' and there was the sensation that the angry being was watching me. It looked like a black mass, which my mind translated to a gargoyle. It was perching up in a corner of the room glaring at me with intense hatred. I got out of there quickly.

I took a friend along once and she had the exact same sensations I had, without my ever telling her what I had experienced. And based on this article, I wasn't alone. Ghosts of the Chimes
 
2012-10-31 1:34:50 AM  
When I was in High School there was this house in the old part of town that was about 100 years old or so, in California this is pretty old for a house. Anyway this crazy older lady lived there and sometimes during the evenings after it got dark she would sit on her porch with like a white bathrobe or towel over her head like a hood, totally obscuring her face. Well being stupid High School kids we would drive up and yell at her. She would jump up and start racing towards our car from about 20 yards up the walkway, scrawny arms stretched out, fingers ready to grab or scratch whatever came in reach and just shrieking. So it became a game or a test to see how close you would let her get before you hit the gas and got away. It made the girls scream and gave us an adrenaline rush because the lady, the house and the situation was just so spooky.

After a month of this going on the school newspaper got wind of this and they went during the day and knocked on this ladies door to "get to bottom of the story". Low and behold her middle aged son was there and he was very upset that kids were doing this and that really she was a nice person who would hurt anyone even though she would run shrieking towards your car. The kid doing the interview then wanted to talk to the old lady and the man basically said "Oh no she isn't here, after the second week of this harassment she had to be put into a facility for her own protection, and I have been staying here to take car of the house alone now for about a week."

When we heard that we about wet our pants. We had been driving to that houses curb to see the crazy lady in white for about a month including that very weekend but the son said after the second week she was in a facility. So who was the lady in white chasing down our car the last couple of times we did that?

Seriously after that I never messed with old people or went by that house after dark again.
 
2012-10-31 1:37:36 AM  

Harv72b: Team: Disregard, base, it's gone now. We're going to go ahead and continue mission.
Base: Roger.

About ten minutes later our crew picked up another transmission on that network:
Team: Base, it's back again.



no one went to look for them?
 
2012-10-31 1:38:28 AM  
True story, this happened to me, about 20 years ago.

I was about 18, a girl I knew in college introduced me to Ouija board one night, it was your store-bought parker bros. version...we played with it, it wasn't that weird because everyone was suspicious of each other about who was moving the planchette. Just a TOY I thought...but interesting at the least. Maybe even a little spooky.

I did a little reading and found out that if you make your own, it's more powerful, better connection to the spirit world, blah blah blah, I wasn't taking this thing seriously, but I was excited by the creepy factor, and how many other people DID take it seriously.

So, one night in October (couple of weeks before Halloween) I called an old girlfriend, "Jenny", and we got to talking (We were reduced to good friends at the time. She was dating some guy named "Patrick" and I had other girls on my mind). We were both a bit bored, so I invited her over. I was living in the apartment above my parents garage, it wasn't much, but it was my "own" place. I told her about my new found knowledge and said I'd make a ouija board to keep us entertained. She was reluctant, but I assured her it was "just a toy" and parker brothers makes these things. "Nothing to worry about, it can't hurt you, it'll be fun"

She had a 20 mile span to cover so I had some time. The board was easy to make, just a piece of 18" x 24" drywall, and I drew the letters and symbols on it with a sharpie. To make the planchette I cut a corner off a pine board and drilled a hole in the middle. Oila~ we had board and were ready to contact Elvis.

A couple of things i told her that I read about these things...(from the box in the store or a movie, I don't know.)

Don't take your hands off the board once you've started. If you do, you could open a "door"
Don't stop the "session" without saying "goodbye", if you do, you could open a "door"
Spirits Lie, can't spell, don't use it alone, and don't burn it near your house.

Now, on to the fun stuff...we sit down across from each other, with this thing on our knees.
I don't remember the name of the first "spirit" we got from the afterlife, but we asked it the usual questions:
"Are you dead?"
Yes
"Can you see us?"
Yes
"I just tossed a thesaurus over my shoulder, it landed open...what page is open to?"
1..3..4 (I get up and check the book, Ouija spirit is.....Correct)
"Where are you?"
H..E..L..L
"Oh really? Is there anyone there we know?"
Yes (Yes was written on the board in the corner, opposite "No")
"Who is there that we know?"
U..N..C..L..E

At this point Jenny stops and gets a little weirded out. Turns out she had an uncle who committed suicide. (I found this out that night. One of those family secrets.) We put the board down, and I reassure her that "it's just a toy", and it's our subconcsious minds moving this thing around. We smoke a cig or two and decide to try again.

This time we get some other "spirit", also in "Hell", and I ask:
"Is there anyone there I know?"
Yes
"Who is it?"
D..A..R..R..E..N (This is the older brother I had lost 4 years earlier in an accident)

I get a little miffed at this thing, because my brother was a teenager and a good kid before he passed, he was a hero of sorts to me, and there was no way in my mind he would be in Hell.

I press on, because this thing is bullshiat to me at this point.
"Oh really...well then...If he's there I want to talk to him! Is he there?"
Yes
"Ok, 'Darren', you and I shared a room when I was in 6th grade and you were in 7th...you were in love with a girl, and wrote her name on the wall behind your bed, and only I knew it was there...what was the name you wrote?"
K..A..R..A

I dropped the board. Nobody but me and Darren knew that...and he never dated her, so it wasn't public knowledge...she was his dream girl and he passed on before anything developed.
Jenny is a little concerned at this point, and once again I tell her that this stupid thing is just a TOY, and my subconcious mind is playing tricks on us. We took another break, another cigarette or two, and decide to give it another shot.

We get the third "spirit"...
"Who are you?"

S..A..T..A

shiat!!!! I panic and drop the board...Santa Claus doesn't spell his name that way! BREAK TIME!

Jenny is pretty rattled at this point, and says "I don't want to play with this 'Toy' anymore." I agreed and we decided to say "goodbye" to the "spirits" and be done with it."

We decide that this is going to be the last communication no matter who we get.

"Who are you?"
S..A..T..A (i cringe at this point) ..R ....SATAR

"Well, SATAR, we'd like to go now, so 'goodbye'"
NO
"We need to go. Goodbye"
NO YOU...R
"What is YOU R?"
YOU..R..W..R..O..N..G
"Who is wrong?"
J-E-N-N-Y (I was glad it wasn't talking to me)
"What is Jenny wrong about?"
YOU..R..W..R..O..N..G
(We are irritated and creeped out at this point, and practically shouting at this thing.)
"WHAT IS SHE WRONG ABOUT?!"
YOU..R..W..R..O..N..G
"ABOUT WHAT?!?!?!"

T....O....Y....S


It took a split second for that to grab me...then it did. You know that rush of adrenaline you get when you have a close call? The way it rushes up your spine like a wave hits you in the back? This felt like a tidal wave to me. I freaked out. The board went flying, I grabbed Jenny by the arm and it took me about 3 steps to get to the door 15 feet away. We dashed down the stairs and into the house 50 feet away. She was crying at this point and I was VERY rattled, I felt like the devil himself was standing behind me.

We spent at least an hour in the house trying to calm down, and trying to figure out what to do...that WAS my apartment, but I wasn't going up there alone, and that board had to go. Finally, armed with a shotgun (not much good against Satan, but I felt better with it) we sent the dog into the apartment first while we waited on the stairs...after a few minutes, I went in....Jenny waited in the doorway...(she was NOT going back in there...considering the "door" we may have opened) while I ran in and grabbed the board and the planchette. We drove 15 miles and dropped the planchette in a dumpster, and 15 more miles before I dropped the board in another dumpster. Both of us still shaking.

I never slept in that apartment again, and won't go up there after dark, to this day.  My biggest fear when I'm visiting my parents home, is that I'll move something in the garage or barn, and behind it will be that board.
 
2012-10-31 1:38:55 AM  
Please excuse the typos, I'm mobile Farking
 
2012-10-31 1:41:00 AM  
Turn your lights out.

dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum...

The chicken heart was kept alive in a laboratory in a vat. In a special solution: half blood, half sodium salicylate. ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
One day, a careless janitor knocked the vat over *crash* dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
He went to get a rag to clean it up. ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
The chicken heart grew ... dum-dum ... dum-dum....
Six foot, five inches. And in search of human blood! ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
The janitor came back, opened the door *click* - the heart ate him up *WAAAGH!* *munch*slurp* Dum-dum ... Dum-dum ... Dum-dum...
It moved out into the hallway ... Dum-dum ... Dum-dum ... Dum-dum.
Rang for the elevator ... Dum-dum ... Dum-dum ...
"Fourth floor- AAGH! *munch*slurp*" ... Dum-dum ... Dum-dum... Dum-dum ...
Moved out into the street, ate up all the cabs *beep beep *munch*slurp* Dum-dum ... Dum-dum ... Dum-dum ...
The Empire State Building ... Dum-dum *Munch*Slurp* Dum-Dum ... Dum-Dum ... Dum-Dum
Ate up the Jersey Turnpike ... Dum-Dum ... Dum-Dum ... Dum-Dum
It's in your HOME STATE ... DUM-DUM ... DUM-DUM ... DUM-DUM ....
It's out side of YOUR DOOR ... DUM-DUM ... DUM-DUM ... DUM-DUM ....
And it's going to eat YOU up! ... DUM-DUM ... DUM-DUM
 
2012-10-31 1:41:34 AM  

Wolf892: I was 15 years old and it was the first summer where my parents decided to take a weeklong vacation to visit my grandmother. This was great for me for two reasons, the first, I was allowed to stay home alone for the week, and the second, my mother had left me a 4 gallon tub of bubblegum ice-cream that she had told me to go wild on.
I stayed awake every night late, watching Japanese anime, drinking root-beer and eating the heck out of that bubble gum ice cream. I was in 15 year old boy Heaven.
On the second to last night of the week everything was going the same. It was three o clock in the morning when I finally finished the last episode of "bubblegum crisis" (which I'd loved watching while eating bubblegum ice-cream) and decided it was time to go downstairs to bed.
So I did.
I'm not sure what time it was when I woke up, my room was dark, I was laying in bed facing my wall and I could tell that if I didn't get out of bed my bladder was going to burst.
As I started to turn over in my bed so that I could climb out, something happened that to this day (34 years old now) I'll never forget.
From right beside my head, almost like a breath away from my ear I heard as clear as day a voice. The voice was strange though because it was devoid of all inflection, all tone, all emotion. It only spoke three words to me...
"Don't turn around"
That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."


I believe it. Grew up in an old Victorian home and had something similar happen to me, except it asked if I wanted to be a "top dog". Ignored the voice, but tons of weird shiat happened in that house, and many who came over just felt something "bad" there. It was a fixer upper when my parents got it in 1974, and there were pentagrams drawn on the floors. My mother had the house blessed, but it never quite got rid of everything so it appeared. We got broken into several times, and later my uncle came to stay with us. We would leave for church, movies, or whatever, and then he became like a man possessed. Sitting around the house in the dark with a baseball bat hoping to kill anyone that would try to break in. We had to calm him down when we came home. He had the most evil demonic look on his face. To top it off the house was next door to a Pentacostle church and they would be howling in tongues every Sunday and Wednesday. They told me it was the holy spirit grabbing a hold of them, I told them it sounded like something else grabbing them wherever.

/The cholos living across the street later got busted for break-ins in the neighborhood.
//We didn't get broken into again while we lived there after that.
///We moved to a better neighborhood in 1986 when I was 17
 
2012-10-31 1:42:55 AM  

Wolf892: I was 15 years old and it was the first summer where my parents decided to take a weeklong vacation to visit my grandmother. This was great for me for two reasons, the first, I was allowed to stay home alone for the week, and the second, my mother had left me a 4 gallon tub of bubblegum ice-cream that she had told me to go wild on.
I stayed awake every night late, watching Japanese anime, drinking root-beer and eating the heck out of that bubble gum ice cream. I was in 15 year old boy Heaven.
On the second to last night of the week everything was going the same. It was three o clock in the morning when I finally finished the last episode of "bubblegum crisis" (which I'd loved watching while eating bubblegum ice-cream) and decided it was time to go downstairs to bed.
So I did.
I'm not sure what time it was when I woke up, my room was dark, I was laying in bed facing my wall and I could tell that if I didn't get out of bed my bladder was going to burst.
As I started to turn over in my bed so that I could climb out, something happened that to this day (34 years old now) I'll never forget.
From right beside my head, almost like a breath away from my ear I heard as clear as day a voice. The voice was strange though because it was devoid of all inflection, all tone, all emotion. It only spoke three words to me...
"Don't turn around"
That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."


did you hear anybody move afterwards? like soneone leaving?
 
2012-10-31 1:46:40 AM  
Nothing über spooky, but I will say I kind of miss sleep paralysis.

Maybe 4 or 5 years ago I had a few episodes over a several month period. Never had it before; ain't had it since. The first time scared the ever-living crap out of me, in the "I'm a seven-year-old trying to scream his fool head off" kind of scared. Only, you can't scream: you're paralyzed.

Apparently, sleep paralysis is when your body decides to wake up your brain without waking up your body. As I understand it, when you sleep, you tend to try to move around a lot, and so your body gets shut down so you don't flail all over the place and injure yourself. Which is great, except for when your body gets things wrong. So you wake up for a few seconds: fully conscious, but completely unable to move. Can't move your arms. Your legs. And your screams (oh, and there will be screams) come out as these pathetic little whines as your vocal chords aren't doing their job either.

And all the things you hear about it are true. You can't move. There is something in the room with you. You can't see it, but you just know it's there. And there isn't a damned thing you can do about it.

Thankfully, it doesn't tend to last long. I guess maybe your body realizes something's wrong and reboots. I dunno.

First time it happened was, to me, the classic 'abduction' scenario. I woke up on my back, and there were these things in the room with me. I couldn't see them, but I knew there were there, watching me dispassionately. I had know idea what was going on, but I was terrified. I tried to scream -- not that anyone would have heard me as I lived alone in a rather secluded area -- but I tried. This pathetically thin, almost wispy whine came out of my mouth and nothing else as I tried in vain to pinpoint what was in my room with me. Next morning, I woke up wondering "WTF?" and, knowing what sleep paralysis was, looked into it more deeply. Didn't happen again for nearly three months.

This time, I knew what was happening, but it was no less scary. Seems the feeling of dread accompanying the episode completely unrelated to the conscious feeling of dread that one might associate with being paralyzed. It's like you're not just falling, but something is also pushing you downward. So there I am, lying on my side, back to the edge of my bed, eyes wide with fright even though I know it's all in my head but still knowing every bit as much that something is behind me, kneeling beside the bed, fingers out-stretched and ever-so almost touching me on my back.

Third time, "there was someone in the house". I knew what was going on (once I realized I couldn't move) but I was still scared shiatless.

For me, it's now like going on a roller-coaster ride that terrifies you and trying to 'just have fun' but only being able to 'enjoy' the scare after the fact, yet you still wanna ride it again.
 
2012-10-31 1:47:23 AM  
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Ab3
2012-10-31 1:48:12 AM  
Forever 'Till The End Of Time
___________________________

I must be quick because I am not sure how much time I have left.

It all began the same week that my divorce from Deborah became final. She called me and begged that I come to the house we had shared for over a decade. Just a visit, that was all she wanted. I patiently told her again that there was no hope of a reconciliation.

Reconciliation, however, was the furthest thing from her mind. She told me she had uncovered an original draft of The Zanthu Tablets: A Conjectural Translation. I admit this news surprised and intrigued me. My former wife and I were both academics, experts in the fields of archeology and history; but while I made my living from teaching, Deborah had turned her attention to pure research.

Perhaps that was why she had collected accolades while I had collected dalliances with graduate students.

"Who else but you," she had said, "who else but you could appreciate this?"

Curiosity won out over common sense and the next night I took the hour long drive to Arkham. As each mile passed my excitement faded and my dread grew. My parting with Deborah had been angry and tearful. I knew that even now, despite everything, she still loved me. Every relationship is like that in the end, with one party caring for the other more; the worshipper and the worshipped.

I found that both my former home and former wife had suffered a swift decline. The lawn was overgrown, the mail and newspapers unclaimed. Deborah herself looked tired and light-starved. She had gained weight, yet her face had become gaunt.

She had barely shut the door behind me before she began talking franticly, stumbling over her words in an effort to tell me everything at once. I had seen her in such frenzies before, discoveries like this caused her to succumb to a kind of madness. Regardless of such considerations I will admit I was impressed. Her researches into the connections between Sumerian and Polynesian mythology had led her to a new understanding of the disturbing legends of Ythogtha and his offspring Ubb the father of worms. Her work would force the academic world to reconsider everything it knew about the Xothic legend cycle.

Each room of the house was a chaos of old books and hastily scrawled notes. There were maps of the ancient and modern worlds tacked on the walls, patterns had been drawn along and through the oceans and continents.

Instead of leading me to her study she asked me to follow her down to the basement.

A foul odor assaulted me as I descended the stairs. Deborah had somehow managed to tear up the concrete floor of the basement. The soil she had revealed was black and uneven, it reeked of sewage and rot. Before I could question her about this I saw an object sitting alone on a long metal table in the center of the room.

It was the kind of idol that we had both read descriptions of over the years. The kind of idols that missionaries had taken care to destroy. Nothing like this was supposed to have survived into the modern age. I should have been excited but instead I felt a cold dread settle around me. The effigy was no more than a foot tall and made from a yellowish stone that gleamed like it might be exuding some kind of sickly inner moisture. This Plathelminthe-like image could only be that of Ubb, the father of worms.

"Ubb is immortal among his kind," Deborah explained, "raised up by Ythogtha to live and crawl and know. So if he is immortal why were kings and shamans sacrificed to him?"

I backed away from her, afraid of the way her eyes had lit up when she said the word sacrificed. How irrational had she become?

She drew closer to me, reaching out. Her fingertips were darkly stained. "Can't you see? Ubb ingests but does not digest. He is merciful."

Was it my legs quaking beneath me or something more? Even now I cannot say.

"How could you love someone else when I can give you forever?"

My revulsion turned to violence and I pushed her away. She fell backwards into the damp dirt and in doing so revealed what had been carelessly buried there.

I have no memory of fleeing what had once been my home or of screaming in the streets until I fainted dead away.

The rest of my story is public knowledge. The authorities were alerted and a search of the house revealed nearly a dozen bodies. Deborah and the statue were never found, considering her final words to me I am not at all surprised.

In the weeks since I have kept to myself, answering whatever questions the authorities might have and refusing all visitors- reporters and old friends alike. Each night I drink myself to sleep hoping to quell the dreams which now haunt me. Those dreams of a great flatworm-like thing burrowing purposefully through the Earth's mantle and waiting for the stars to be right.

In that dream I am bodiless and weightless, I float close enough to see every detail of its churning body. It glows with an internal bioluminescence. It is blind yet it sees. It is called the father of worms yet it leaves a trail of young in its wake.

The middle of the thing's body is swollen and translucent. I can see the shapes that crowd there, half-mummified and unmistakably human, generations of lords and wise men.

This is Ubb and he sees me. I have been marked. Despite knowing this I do not have the courage to take my own life, to choose oblivion over the fate I know awaits me.

Someday soon the father of worms will reach out and drag me down through miles of Earth to join Deborah and together we will live forever in the belly of the beast.

Someday soon.
 
2012-10-31 1:49:42 AM  
When it got hot in the valley, Thomas and Alfred drove their cows up to a cool, green pasture in the mountains to graze. Usually they stayed there with the cows for two months. Then they brought them down to the valley again. The work was easy enough, but, oh, it was boring. All day the two men tended their cows. At night they went back to the tiny hut where they lived. They ate supper and worked in the garden and went to sleep. It was always the same.

Then Thomas had an idea that changed everything. "Let's make a doll the size of a man." he said. "It would be fun to make, and we could put it in the garden to scare the birds."

"It should look like Harold," Alfred said. Harold was a farmer they both hated. They made a doll out of old sacks stuffed with straw. They gave it a pointy nose like Harold's and tiny eyes like his. Then they added dark hair and a twisted frown. Of course they also gave it Harold's name.

Each morning on their way to the pasture, they tied Harold to a pole in the garden to scare away the birds. Each night they brought him inside so that he wouldn't get ruined if it rained.

When they were feeling playful, they would talk to him. One of them might say, "How are the vegetables growing today, Harold?" Then the other, making believe he was Harold, would answer in a crazy voice, "Very slowly." They both would laugh, but not Harold.

Whenever something went wrong, they took it out on Harold. They would curse at him, even kick or punch him. Sometimes one of them would take the food they were eating (which they both were sick of) and smear it on the doll's face. "How do you like that stew, Harold?" he would ask. "Well, you better eat it - or else." Then the two men would howl with laughter.

One night, after Thomas had wiped Harold's face with food, Harold grunted. "Did you hear that?" Alfred asked.

"It was Harold," Thomas said. "I was watching him when it happened. I can't believe it."

"How could he grunt?" Alfred asked, "He's just a sack of straw. It's not possible."

"Let's throw him in the fire," Thomas said, "and that will be that."

"Let's not do anything stupid," said Alfred. "We don't know what's going on. When we move the cows down, we'll leave him behind. For now, let's just keep an eye on him."

So they left Harold sitting in the corner of the hut. They didn't talk to him or take him outside anymore. Now and then the doll grunted, but that was all. After a few days, they decided there was nothing to be afraid of. Maybe a mouse or some insects had gotten inside Harold and were making those sounds.

So Thomas and Alfred went back to their old ways. Each morning they put Harold out in the garden, and each night they brought him back into the hut. When they felt playful, they joked with him. When they felt mean, they treated him as badly as ever.

Then one night Alfred noticed something that frightened him. "Harold is growing," he said.

"I was thinking the same thing." Thomas said.

"Maybe it's just our imagination," Alfred replied. "We have been up here on this mountain for too long."

The Next morning, while they were eating, Harold stood up and walked out of the hut. He climbed up on the roof and trotted back and forth, like a horse on its hind legs. All day and all night, he trotted like that. In the morning Harold climbed down and stood in a far corner of the pasture. The men had no idea what he would do next. They were afraid.

They decided to take the cows down into the valley that same day. When they left, Harold was nowhere in sight. They felt as if they had escaped a great danger and began joking and singing. But when they had gone only a mile or two, they realized they had forgotten to bring the milking stools.

Neither one wanted to go back for them, but the stools would cost a lot to replace. "There really is nothing to be afraid of," they told one another. "After all, what could a doll do?"

They drew straws to see which one would go back. It was Thomas. "I'll catch up with you." he said, and Alfred walked toward the valley.

When Alfred came to a rise in the path, he looked back for Thomas. He did not see him anywhere. But he did see Harold. The doll was on the roof of the hut again. As Alfred watched, Harold kneeled and stretched out a bloody skin to dry in the sun.
 
2012-10-31 1:49:44 AM  
Ooh, my post from the Sleep Paralysis discussion in the 'Ghost video' thread...

The worst case of SP for me ever was while I was in college and staying with my grandparents. I swear I was wide awake at the time because I was chatting online with some friends. I got that 'someone's in the room' feeling turned and saw this thing standing behind me. It was about 6 feet tall, made of black shadow, and had a head shaped like a tapeworm with almond eyes a shade or two lighter. It 'saw' me, took a leap like it was going to jump me and then vanished. Freaked me out but it was late and I was tired so not surprised I was overlaying reality again.

I saw it again later that night in my bedroom. Just standing there. I rolled over to the other side of my pillow and it was crouched next to my bed at eye level. I stared back for a while, told myself it was a dream, and went back to sleep. I was more angry than surprised this second time.

The tapeworm shaped head stays with me though. I've never seen that hallucination again and I'm happy that way.
 
2012-10-31 1:51:18 AM  
sethen320:

Some people will never believe it even if it slaps them in the face. My oldest son is a funny one. His moms old house was supposedly haunted, and he claims to have had an experience of his bed shaking violently one night. He acknowledged there was no earthquake, so it must have been something we don't understand with the magnetic field. Science!

Another wierd tale that made me believe was a huge house party in 1987 hosted by the satanist in the school. The kid had a ouija board in his bedroom, and a few of us decided to close the door and play with it. It asked the 2 girls in our little group to get out, and we figured someone must be pushing the thing around. We asked it what was its name, and it said Lou. Then it pushed off the board. We put it away and left the room, and asked the host if he ever used that thing. He said, yes, he used it to talk to Lou, and Lou don't like women. Too much a coinkidinse?
 
2012-10-31 1:53:27 AM  

ConConHead: Ooh, my post from the Sleep Paralysis discussion in the 'Ghost video' thread...

The worst case of SP for me ever was while I was in college and staying with my grandparents. I swear I was wide awake at the time because I was chatting online with some friends. I got that 'someone's in the room' feeling turned and saw this thing standing behind me. It was about 6 feet tall, made of black shadow, and had a head shaped like a tapeworm with almond eyes a shade or two lighter. It 'saw' me, took a leap like it was going to jump me and then vanished. Freaked me out but it was late and I was tired so not surprised I was overlaying reality again.

I saw it again later that night in my bedroom. Just standing there. I rolled over to the other side of my pillow and it was crouched next to my bed at eye level. I stared back for a while, told myself it was a dream, and went back to sleep. I was more angry than surprised this second time.

The tapeworm shaped head stays with me though. I've never seen that hallucination again and I'm happy that way.


You ever wake from a bad dream in a dream only to discover you are still in a dream but now this time the shiat is for real! Then really wake up and have a smoke and contemplate making pancakes?
 
2012-10-31 1:54:42 AM  

sethen320: I feel like an idiot for asking, but...this wasn't made up?


Nope. Every word is the God's honest truth. The scariest moment in my life. At least until the time the jet engines quit during a Delta takeoff out of Philly airport or the time I was in Taipei during the earthquake in 1995.

That is what made it scary, it really happened..
 
2012-10-31 1:55:39 AM  
The worst part is when you realize you have woke up and you are out of pancake mix.

/That's when i head to the blessed IHOP and all the world is right again.
 
2012-10-31 1:56:41 AM  
I used to hangout, drink, and set off fireworks and larger things around Goatman's Bridge, so my bar is kinda high. I've been in lots of creepy places, and I was lost in a bad part of Dallas tonight just taking a shortcut.

The dreams I remember are pure nightmare fuel.

Being passed between evil faced cypress trees in a swamp by their branches is one of my earliest memories.

Two weeks ago I fell asleep in my recliner and had a dream about wading up a river I identified as being in Guatemala. It was full of floating turds that bumped into me as it rushed past. When I got to the end of the river I had to seek shelter in an abandoned mechanics garage as meteorites crashed down from above.

I woke up in my bed, with a broken big toe and missing a toenail. The toenail was the one next to my big toe, I don't know a better way to describe that.

I'm pretty hard to scare. My bedroom window is at the bottom of a stairway and I woke to the sound of glass breaking. I quickly thought it over and yelled "Who goes there?" in a voice that would make a drill instructor proud while I reached for my gun. My neighbor had tripped with a basket of laundry coming down the stairs because she insists on wearing poorly functional sandals. Within 20 minutes of being woken I had cleaned up the glass and put together a cardboard filler in my window. I think the screen had kept her from getting cut by glass.

I'm certified as a VFR Air Traffic Controller (Certified Tower Operator). I've been taught to ACT NOW DAMMIT. You can make corrections IF YOU ARE GIVING ORDERS! One time I saved a million dollar aircraft by saying "Go Around" in a level voice when I realized the pilot wasn't going to deploy his landing gear and was past the threshold of the runway.

My ex hit me with a boat oar and my third action was to drive to WalMart to buy a bag of ice. I remember that the guy in front of me in line was an assistant librarian buying his daughter a birthday present. I remember that a few weeks later I asked him where I could find "the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner" at the library and fell asleep reading that in a nice chair at the library.

I'm 6'5", ~350 pounds and can bench it and full squat double. I laugh at the people who load up the rack and do this little six inch squat.
I am the looming shadow.

I've felt terror twice in the past month. The first was when I was trying a Smart car at the Mercedes dealership and my knee was trapped between the door and the steering wheel. The second was when I went to met with an old friend at a bar, and she was a much married woman. The things that scare me aren't the things that scare normal people.

/Actions one and two were to grab the oar and break it over my knee.
//I did similar when she went for my rifle.
 
2012-10-31 1:57:49 AM  

sethen320: That's my excessively long ghost story. All true. I can't prove it, but I can say that I've travelled back that way several times since, and I will never stay there again.


Now I want to stay there.

Of course, if any kids wake me up in the middle of the night, I'm going to go full exorcist on their ass. Especially if they're not ghosts buy real kids. Don't wake me up, squirt! The power of Christ, and this 5 gallon bucket of water compels you. *sploosh*
 
2012-10-31 1:58:09 AM  

muck4doo: The worst part is when you realize you have woke up and you are out of pancake mix.

/That's when i head to the blessed IHOP and all the world is right again.


I'm more of a waffle girl myself...
 
2012-10-31 1:59:56 AM  
This isn't so much eerie, but it scared the shiat out of my wife (then-girlfriend).

Back in October 2002, when the DC sniper was active, I was living in Manassas, VA working second-shift pizza delivery and my girlfriend was going to college in central MD. On Thursdays or Fridays (depending on scheduling), after I got off work late, I'd go get gas in my car at the Sunoco right off I-66 that I preferred, and drive up to stay over with her for the weekend. Other nights after work I'd get gas and/or a drink, go home and chat with her online while I farked around on the computer -- I was living on a shoestring budget so I had converted my cellphone to prepaid, and I was chronically out of minutes.

Now, if you were around DC during that time, you remember how paranoid everybody was at that time, but way out in Manassas none of the attacks were anywhere near us, so we didn't get silly about it. So one Wednesday night, I was scheduled early, getting off at 6 PM. So with some time to kill before she would be expecting me to be online, I went around the corner of the shopping center to the Barnes & Noble to get coffee and kill some time browsing the sci-fi section. Around 9:00 or so I left and headed to my apartment -- way up 234 I noticed a *bunch* of cop cars, like a really bad accident or something, but didn't think anything of it.

So about 15 minutes later, a bit later than usual, I got online and *immediately* got an IM from her -- "You're not dead!!" And then similar IMs from several of her friends, who normally didn't ever IM me. I had no idea what they were on about, until she told me -- the DC sniper had shot somebody in Manassas about an hour before, at a Sunoco. My Sunoco. And since most nights that was right around the time I'd be getting gas, and I wasn't online when expected and nobody was getting through on my exhausted cell phone, "there was a horrible possibility" as one of her friends put it.
 
2012-10-31 2:00:38 AM  

ConConHead: muck4doo: The worst part is when you realize you have woke up and you are out of pancake mix.

/That's when i head to the blessed IHOP and all the world is right again.

I'm more of a waffle girl myself...


What's your opinions on French Toast? I like the waffles, but they have to be good waffles, not that Leggo my Eggo stuff. More like fresh from IHOP.
 
2012-10-31 2:00:55 AM  

echo5juliet: sethen320: I feel like an idiot for asking, but...this wasn't made up?

Nope. Every word is the God's honest truth. The scariest moment in my life. At least until the time the jet engines quit during a Delta takeoff out of Philly airport or the time I was in Taipei during the earthquake in 1995.

That is what made it scary, it really happened..


scary
 
2012-10-31 2:03:09 AM  
not scary...sorta creepy

my folks live on a long curve on the old highway out through the hills. a long time back, back in the 20s, a bootlegger was shot to death and thrown out of a car along that curve for reasons unknown by people unknown. His name was Angelo.

years later, not long after I left high school, my father was mowing the road ditch and happened upon an old wallet. he flipped through and found the guy's license and such so he called up the Omaha police to say 'hey, I found this guy's wallet in my ditch.' The police called back in a few hours. The owner of the wallet had been shot to death several years before. Apparently, whoever killed him threw the wallet out in the ditch along that curve where that bootlegger was shot to death and thrown out decades ago. I forgot to ask my dad what the man's name was.

I'll go around that curve tonight on my way home and I always hope that I don't see anything in the ditch more than a discarded can of busch light.
 
2012-10-31 2:05:14 AM  
In the mid-90's when I was like 15 and my sister was 8, our parents took us to the Lamb State Park for a picnic. We parked at a campground and hiked down a little trail to a small creek with picnic tables and some big oaks. We set up, had a nice picnic, and as we were finishing up my sister pointed and yelled, "That little man! He went down a hole!" And everyone laughed, but she was serious and insisted she saw a small man dive into a hole not 50 feet from the picnic area. My dad walked over to where she pointed, and saw a gopher tortoise burrow. "It was a gopher!" He yelled while pointed down at the burrow. He then knelt down and stuck his head down inside with his cigarette lighter in front of him. He came back to the picnic area, whispered something to my mom, and we all packed up and left in a bit of a rush. My mom said that my dad had seen a rattle snake over there and wanted to get back to the car.

A year or two ago at Christmas, I was talking to my mom about old stories and reminded her of that, and she said, dead seriously, "Oh my god, I forgot all about that! You know when your dad looked in that hole, he saw a person staring back at him." I never asked any more about it.
 
2012-10-31 2:05:31 AM  

Kensey: This isn't so much eerie, but it scared the shiat out of my wife (then-girlfriend).

Back in October 2002, when the DC sniper was active, I was living in Manassas, VA working second-shift pizza delivery and my girlfriend was going to college in central MD. On Thursdays or Fridays (depending on scheduling), after I got off work late, I'd go get gas in my car at the Sunoco right off I-66 that I preferred, and drive up to stay over with her for the weekend. Other nights after work I'd get gas and/or a drink, go home and chat with her online while I farked around on the computer -- I was living on a shoestring budget so I had converted my cellphone to prepaid, and I was chronically out of minutes.

Now, if you were around DC during that time, you remember how paranoid everybody was at that time, but way out in Manassas none of the attacks were anywhere near us, so we didn't get silly about it. So one Wednesday night, I was scheduled early, getting off at 6 PM. So with some time to kill before she would be expecting me to be online, I went around the corner of the shopping center to the Barnes & Noble to get coffee and kill some time browsing the sci-fi section. Around 9:00 or so I left and headed to my apartment -- way up 234 I noticed a *bunch* of cop cars, like a really bad accident or something, but didn't think anything of it.

So about 15 minutes later, a bit later than usual, I got online and *immediately* got an IM from her -- "You're not dead!!" And then similar IMs from several of her friends, who normally didn't ever IM me. I had no idea what they were on about, until she told me -- the DC sniper had shot somebody in Manassas about an hour before, at a Sunoco. My Sunoco. And since most nights that was right around the time I'd be getting gas, and I wasn't online when expected and nobody was getting through on my exhausted cell phone, "there was a horrible possibility" as one of her friends put it.


Know the feeling. I was trying to buy some weed in St. James Park in San Jose in either 88 or 89, and got introduced to some bum there who was selling, and he was going on and on about Jesus, then he switched his tune and told me he was sent by the devil and would kill me and girlfriend both. I got out of there. About 2 weeks later the guy ended up taking a gun from a cop, and killing two of them before they killed him. Dude was completely nuts. I admit though, that CSB doesn't have your creepy factor.
 
2012-10-31 2:07:33 AM  

Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from...


This is a really old urban legend, have heard it plenty of times. Still creepy though and could have origins in truth, I suppose.
 
2012-10-31 2:08:42 AM  

Dow Jones and the Temple of Doom: In the mid-90's when I was like 15 and my sister was 8, our parents took us to the Lamb State Park for a picnic. We parked at a campground and hiked down a little trail to a small creek with picnic tables and some big oaks. We set up, had a nice picnic, and as we were finishing up my sister pointed and yelled, "That little man! He went down a hole!" And everyone laughed, but she was serious and insisted she saw a small man dive into a hole not 50 feet from the picnic area. My dad walked over to where she pointed, and saw a gopher tortoise burrow. "It was a gopher!" He yelled while pointed down at the burrow. He then knelt down and stuck his head down inside with his cigarette lighter in front of him. He came back to the picnic area, whispered something to my mom, and we all packed up and left in a bit of a rush. My mom said that my dad had seen a rattle snake over there and wanted to get back to the car.

A year or two ago at Christmas, I was talking to my mom about old stories and reminded her of that, and she said, dead seriously, "Oh my god, I forgot all about that! You know when your dad looked in that hole, he saw a person staring back at him." I never asked any more about it.


I believe it. Only a pussy runs from a snake, especially after throwing a light down the hole. Snakes are wimps.
 
2012-10-31 2:09:53 AM  

muck4doo: Dow Jones and the Temple of Doom: In the mid-90's when I was like 15 and my sister was 8, our parents took us to the Lamb State Park for a picnic. We parked at a campground and hiked down a little trail to a small creek with picnic tables and some big oaks. We set up, had a nice picnic, and as we were finishing up my sister pointed and yelled, "That little man! He went down a hole!" And everyone laughed, but she was serious and insisted she saw a small man dive into a hole not 50 feet from the picnic area. My dad walked over to where she pointed, and saw a gopher tortoise burrow. "It was a gopher!" He yelled while pointed down at the burrow. He then knelt down and stuck his head down inside with his cigarette lighter in front of him. He came back to the picnic area, whispered something to my mom, and we all packed up and left in a bit of a rush. My mom said that my dad had seen a rattle snake over there and wanted to get back to the car.

A year or two ago at Christmas, I was talking to my mom about old stories and reminded her of that, and she said, dead seriously, "Oh my god, I forgot all about that! You know when your dad looked in that hole, he saw a person staring back at him." I never asked any more about it.

I believe it. Only a pussy runs from a snake, especially after throwing a light down the hole. Snakes are wimps.


Ha! That one I made up. The first one about the hillbillies at the hotel is 100% true though.
 
2012-10-31 2:10:48 AM  
not halloween story. i played on a select soccer team in the years 84-87. whe would always go to charleston sc for a tournament. called the thanksgiving soccer shootout. in 1988 our team had dissolved and my friend and former teammates parents went to the tournament. we decided we would have a party at his house. this was planned many months in advance.

the night before the party about 12 of us decided to eat a bunch of LSD. during the trip, we decided to start jumping off the stairs to the living room of my friends parents house. this happened who knows how many times.

the next night was the party that was planned for almost 6 months in advance. we had a band, iron beagle, and close to 2000 people. my girlfriend had just left and i was standing in front of the band with a girl i had dated the summer prior. the next thing i knew i along with 200 other people, had fallen through the floor to my friends basement. we did like 100k worth of damage to my friends house.

it was probably from the jumping into the living room while tripping, and the amount of people that showed up.

people were in the basement and started hearing and seeing nails popping out of the floor onto the concrete basement floor.

after we fell through the floor to the basement i swear i saw people doing cannonballs into the hole. but i had been drinking PJ for 8 hours. with the ambulances and fire trucks me and a friend got to my car and weeded our way out.

we met up at a fast fare down the street. imagine 400 people in the parking lot of a convinience store. i got to the phone and called my MNF "midnight fark". my friend sean picked her up we went to my parents house, then my friend ainsley showed up.my friend sean drove my "MNF" home.


after that none of us really were friends.
 
2012-10-31 2:11:22 AM  

muck4doo: Kensey: This isn't so much eerie, but it scared the shiat out of my wife (then-girlfriend).

Back in October 2002, when the DC sniper was active, I was living in Manassas, VA working second-shift pizza delivery and my girlfriend was going to college in central MD. On Thursdays or Fridays (depending on scheduling), after I got off work late, I'd go get gas in my car at the Sunoco right off I-66 that I preferred, and drive up to stay over with her for the weekend. Other nights after work I'd get gas and/or a drink, go home and chat with her online while I farked around on the computer -- I was living on a shoestring budget so I had converted my cellphone to prepaid, and I was chronically out of minutes.

Now, if you were around DC during that time, you remember how paranoid everybody was at that time, but way out in Manassas none of the attacks were anywhere near us, so we didn't get silly about it. So one Wednesday night, I was scheduled early, getting off at 6 PM. So with some time to kill before she would be expecting me to be online, I went around the corner of the shopping center to the Barnes & Noble to get coffee and kill some time browsing the sci-fi section. Around 9:00 or so I left and headed to my apartment -- way up 234 I noticed a *bunch* of cop cars, like a really bad accident or something, but didn't think anything of it.

So about 15 minutes later, a bit later than usual, I got online and *immediately* got an IM from her -- "You're not dead!!" And then similar IMs from several of her friends, who normally didn't ever IM me. I had no idea what they were on about, until she told me -- the DC sniper had shot somebody in Manassas about an hour before, at a Sunoco. My Sunoco. And since most nights that was right around the time I'd be getting gas, and I wasn't online when expected and nobody was getting through on my exhausted cell phone, "there was a horrible possibility" as one of her friends put it.

Know the feeling. I was trying to buy some weed ...


How was the herb?
 
2012-10-31 2:13:29 AM  
When I was four my mom, dad, two brothers, sister and I moved into a house that my father had had built in Tennessee. The site of the house (in a small farming community called Paris) was the site of a farmhouse from wayyyy back when that had burned according to an older gent I met in my childhood. He did not know if anyone had died in the fire or not. I do know that over the year when we would bury pets that had died we would almost always encounter broken bits of dishes, old hinges etc.
Anyway, from my earliest memories in the house there were the sounds of people walking along the second-floor hallway, and the sound of one of the toilets (in my sister's room) flushing from time to time when we knew there was no one on the second floor.
Among the other things I remember are: sitting in the living room with my mother and my sister when a candelabra about a foot high suddenly slid from the center of a round pub table to the very edge of that table while all three of us watched it. There was no oppressive feeling, cold spot etc.. It just moved. Another time I was sitting in the same living room with my mother. I was sitting in a Lay-Z-Boy beside the fireplace and Mom was sitting in a big armchair diagonally across the room next to the TV. Beside my lazy-boy was a child's rocking chair about two feet high that had been in the family for a while. I was reading and my Mom said "David (my real name) look at the rocking chair." I did and saw that it was tipped forward and standing on the front of its' rockers, as if someone small had leaned it forward to sit down. As we watched, the chair started to rock back and forth calmly but as if there were weight in it. My Mom, having grown accustomed to odd happenings in our house, said "Are you a good spirit?" The chair immediately stopped. It didn't slow down, or coast to a stop, it just stopped. Then, it slowly tipped very far forward again, as if a child may have been getting out of the chair. After staying forward for a few seconds, it rocked freely back and forth as if someone had just bumped it in passing. Another day I was brushing my teeth in the downstairs half-bath. I thought I heard someone call my name from maybe the kitchen or living room. As I turned to look into what is the foyer of the house, I caught a brief glimpse of a girl of maybe 6 years old with long blonde hair wearing a blue and white dress. I saw this same girl another time as I walked out of my second floor bedroom into the upstairs hall; again, just a brief flash. I didn't feel fear when I saw the young girl.... it was more a feeling of sadness, like I wanted to talk to her or help her.
This house has MANY other experiences that happened to me and to other members of my family. Overall though, the feelings were that we wanted to help whatever was there, not a feeling of fear.
 
2012-10-31 2:13:53 AM  

What_Would_Jimi_Do: Just Another OC Homeless Guy: For those of you who can get 640 AM KFI radio, tomorrow night, starting at 10pm, is Coast to Coast with George Nory (the old Art Bell show). Except it isn't Coast to Coast.... it is Ghost to Ghost for this one night. Callers call in ghost stories, all night long. Turn down the lights, burn a blunt or two, grab a bag of candy and enjoy.....

you do realize george nory is......coast to coast


You do realize that Fark is worldwide...
 
2012-10-31 2:15:13 AM  

potato_chip_eating_geek: no one went to look for them?


I assume they did (hell, they once had an entire battalion walking hand-to-hand through the desert for 12 hours looking for some lieutenant's pistol), but we never heard thing one about it & whether or not they were found. Which is odd in itself because they generally announced anything "real-world" that happened downrange & turned the unhappy endings into training sessions.
 
2012-10-31 2:15:15 AM  

What_Would_Jimi_Do: not halloween story. i played on a select soccer team in the years 84-87. whe would always go to charleston sc for a tournament. called the thanksgiving soccer shootout. in 1988 our team had dissolved and my friend and former teammates parents went to the tournament. we decided we would have a party at his house. this was planned many months in advance.

the night before the party about 12 of us decided to eat a bunch of LSD. during the trip, we decided to start jumping off the stairs to the living room of my friends parents house. this happened who knows how many times.

the next night was the party that was planned for almost 6 months in advance. we had a band, iron beagle, and close to 2000 people. my girlfriend had just left and i was standing in front of the band with a girl i had dated the summer prior. the next thing i knew i along with 200 other people, had fallen through the floor to my friends basement. we did like 100k worth of damage to my friends house.

it was probably from the jumping into the living room while tripping, and the amount of people that showed up.

people were in the basement and started hearing and seeing nails popping out of the floor onto the concrete basement floor.

after we fell through the floor to the basement i swear i saw people doing cannonballs into the hole. but i had been drinking PJ for 8 hours. with the ambulances and fire trucks me and a friend got to my car and weeded our way out.

we met up at a fast fare down the street. imagine 400 people in the parking lot of a convinience store. i got to the phone and called my MNF "midnight fark". my friend sean picked her up we went to my parents house, then my friend ainsley showed up.my friend sean drove my "MNF" home.


after that none of us really were friends.


i forgot that was whore-or your girl friend
 
2012-10-31 2:16:24 AM  

Just Another OC Homeless Guy: What_Would_Jimi_Do: Just Another OC Homeless Guy: For those of you who can get 640 AM KFI radio, tomorrow night, starting at 10pm, is Coast to Coast with George Nory (the old Art Bell show). Except it isn't Coast to Coast.... it is Ghost to Ghost for this one night. Callers call in ghost stories, all night long. Turn down the lights, burn a blunt or two, grab a bag of candy and enjoy.....

you do realize george nory is......coast to coast

You do realize that Fark is worldwide...


really, you think fark is more popular than george nory?
 
2012-10-31 2:17:14 AM  

Dow Jones and the Temple of Doom: muck4doo: Dow Jones and the Temple of Doom: In the mid-90's when I was like 15 and my sister was 8, our parents took us to the Lamb State Park for a picnic. We parked at a campground and hiked down a little trail to a small creek with picnic tables and some big oaks. We set up, had a nice picnic, and as we were finishing up my sister pointed and yelled, "That little man! He went down a hole!" And everyone laughed, but she was serious and insisted she saw a small man dive into a hole not 50 feet from the picnic area. My dad walked over to where she pointed, and saw a gopher tortoise burrow. "It was a gopher!" He yelled while pointed down at the burrow. He then knelt down and stuck his head down inside with his cigarette lighter in front of him. He came back to the picnic area, whispered something to my mom, and we all packed up and left in a bit of a rush. My mom said that my dad had seen a rattle snake over there and wanted to get back to the car.

A year or two ago at Christmas, I was talking to my mom about old stories and reminded her of that, and she said, dead seriously, "Oh my god, I forgot all about that! You know when your dad looked in that hole, he saw a person staring back at him." I never asked any more about it.

I believe it. Only a pussy runs from a snake, especially after throwing a light down the hole. Snakes are wimps.

Ha! That one I made up. The first one about the hillbillies at the hotel is 100% true though.


Doesn't change the fact snakes are wimps. Except maybe them Black Mambas. Seriously, rattlesnakes always try to run, and never are like "Arrgh! I'm a bear!" Glad to hear your dad really didn't run from one.

thisisyourbrainonFark: How was the herb?


Ditchweed. My good contact in Hayward started to deal meth as well and got himself caught. That dumbass.
 
2012-10-31 2:17:47 AM  
Eckels stood smelling of the air, and there was a thing to the air, a chemical taint so subtle, so slight, that only a faint cry of his subliminal senses warned him it was there. The colors, white, gray, blue, orange, in the wall, in the furniture, in the sky beyond the window, were . . . were . . . . And there was a feel. His flesh twitched. His hands twitched. He stood drinking the oddness with the pores of his body. Somewhere, someone must have been screaming one of those whistles that only a dog can hear. His body screamed silence in return. Beyond this room, beyond this wall, beyond this man who was not quite the same man seated at this desk that was not quite the same desk . . . lay an entire world of streets and people. What sort of world it was now, there was no telling. He could feel them moving there, beyond the walls, almost, like so many chess pieces blown in a dry wind ....

But the immediate thing was the sign painted on the office wall, the same sign he had read earlier today on first entering. Somehow, the sign had changed:

TYME SEFARI INC.
SEFARIS TU ANY YEER EN THE PAST.
YU NAIM THE ANIMALL.
WEE TAEK YU THAIR.
YU SHOOT ITT.

Eckels felt himself fall into a chair. He fumbled crazily at the thick slime on his boots. He held up a clod of dirt, trembling, "No, it can't be. Not a little thing like that. No!"

Embedded in the mud, glistening green and gold and black, was a butterfly, very beautiful and very dead.

"Not a little thing like that! Not a butterfly!" cried Eckels.

It fell to the floor, an exquisite thing, a small thing that could upset balances and knock down a line of small dominoes and then big dominoes and then gigantic dominoes, all down the years across Time. Eckels' mind whirled. It couldn't change things. Killing one butterfly couldn't be that important! Could it?

His face was cold. His mouth trembled, asking: "Who - who won the presidential election yesterday?"

The man behind the desk laughed. "You joking? You know very well. Romney, of course! Who else? Not that fool weakling Obama. We got an iron man now, a man with guts!" The official stopped. "What's wrong?"

Eckels moaned. He dropped to his knees. He scrabbled at the golden butterfly with shaking fingers. "Can't we," he pleaded to the world, to himself, to the officials, to the Machine, "can't we take it back, can't we make it alive again? Can't we start over? Can't we-"

He did not move. Eyes shut, he waited, shivering. He heard Travis breathe loud in the room; he heard Travis shift his rifle, click the safety catch, and raise the weapon.

There was a sound of thunder.

/Bradbury...mostly
 
2012-10-31 2:18:03 AM  
LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

by: James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)

INSCRIBED WITH ALL FAITH AND AFFECTION

To all the little children: -- The happy ones; and sad ones;
The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;
The good ones -- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.

ITTLE Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--
An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout:--
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;
An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!
 
2012-10-31 2:19:56 AM  

No_ESC_Key: When I was four my mom, dad, two brothers, sister and I moved into a house that my father had had built in Tennessee. The site of the house (in a small farming community called Paris) was the site of a farmhouse from wayyyy back when that had burned according to an older gent I met in my childhood. He did not know if anyone had died in the fire or not. I do know that over the year when we would bury pets that had died we would almost always encounter broken bits of dishes, old hinges etc.
Anyway, from my earliest memories in the house there were the sounds of people walking along the second-floor hallway, and the sound of one of the toilets (in my sister's room) flushing from time to time when we knew there was no one on the second floor.
Among the other things I remember are: sitting in the living room with my mother and my sister when a candelabra about a foot high suddenly slid from the center of a round pub table to the very edge of that table while all three of us watched it. There was no oppressive feeling, cold spot etc.. It just moved. Another time I was sitting in the same living room with my mother. I was sitting in a Lay-Z-Boy beside the fireplace and Mom was sitting in a big armchair diagonally across the room next to the TV. Beside my lazy-boy was a child's rocking chair about two feet high that had been in the family for a while. I was reading and my Mom said "David (my real name) look at the rocking chair." I did and saw that it was tipped forward and standing on the front of its' rockers, as if someone small had leaned it forward to sit down. As we watched, the chair started to rock back and forth calmly but as if there were weight in it. My Mom, having grown accustomed to odd happenings in our house, said "Are you a good spirit?" The chair immediately stopped. It didn't slow down, or coast to a stop, it just stopped. Then, it slowly tipped very far forward again, as if a child may have been getting out of the chair. After staying forward for a few s ...


Sad story. However, the flushing of the toilet doesn't surprise. The feeling of taking a healthy dump is something many spirits want to remember.
 
2012-10-31 2:23:29 AM  
A little something music for you Farkers and this thread:

Monster Mash
 
2012-10-31 2:25:18 AM  

echo5juliet: Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.

So I was driving by myself in the afternoon. I stopped in Amboy and snapped a picture of the city sign, just to prove I was there to friends who dared me to take that route to I-40. I got back in my car and proceeded to drive up into the mountain range between Amboy and I-40.

Once I reach the top I am driving north through a canyon with high grass on both sides of the road. Up ahead I see some stuff in the middle of the road. As I approach I slow down to see a red Pontiac Fiero stopped sideways across both lanes, a suitcase open with clothes scattered everywhere and two bodies laying face down in the road, a man and a woman.

I stop a hundred feet or so away and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Being a Marine, I reach under the seat and pull out a 9mm pistol and chamber a round. Something seemed very wrong, it looked too perfect as if it were staged. An ambush? Was I being paranoid? Something was just wrong. Getting out of the car seemed unthinkable, it was the horror movie move.

As I scanned the road I saw a line I could drive. Pass the guy in the road on his left, swerve to the right side of the woman, behind the Fiero and I'd be on the other side. I dropped it into first gear, punched it and drove the line I planned.

I passed the back of the ...


Hey! It's been a long time since I've seen you post. Welcome back. :-)
 
2012-10-31 2:27:03 AM  

FraggleStickCar: Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from...

This is a really old urban legend, have heard it plenty of times. Still creepy though and could have origins in truth, I suppose.


That is funny since I am the OP and it really happened. I was driving a maroon 1978 280Z. The 9mm was a Ruger P85. The Fiero was red. The woman in the road was wearing faded blue jeans and a pale pink shirt. The suitcase in the road closest to me was tan in color. The oddest thing about the picture in front of me was that the suitcases were open and the contents were scattered around far more evenly that you would think would happen in a real accident. That is what stood out, everything was too spread, that and there were no skid marks to explain why the Fiero was sideways in the street.

If it is a really old urban legend it must be because the same group pulled it on lots of people before they pulled it on me.
 
2012-10-31 2:28:19 AM  

Oafmeel: Bathia_Mapes: story.

...duuuuuuuuude...

Haven't heard that one before...and it gave me the jibblies something fierce.


That's why it's my favorite from the Halloween threads. Nothing has come close to it for pure creep factor.
 
2012-10-31 2:31:09 AM  

Bathia_Mapes: Hey! It's been a long time since I've seen you post. Welcome back. :-)


Thanks! Fark notified me that people were talking about me so I stuck my head in.

and for those of you who do not believe the story I would be happy to organize a car caravan road trip leaving from Palm Springs or Barstow to the location where the story took place. I've been wanting to go back by myself but the government keeps denying my request to buy a MK-19 40mm belt fed grenade launcher for personal use.
 
2012-10-31 2:31:35 AM  
The S.W.A.T. team is surrounding your hour house.
 
2012-10-31 2:35:17 AM  
Did anyone else ever grow up having this Disney Halloween album?:

Link

Was trying to find more tracks for it, but they are lacking. Think this one might still be at my grandfathers house. He's just about 90, and probably doesn't listen to it much anymore.
 
2012-10-31 2:37:05 AM  

doglover: "It should look like Harold," Alfred said. Harold was a farmer they both hated. They made a doll out of old sacks stuffed with straw. They gave it a pointy nose like Harold's and tiny eyes like his. Then they added dark hair and a twisted frown. Of course they also gave it Harold's name.


You forgot the terrible, terrible picture that haunted my mind as a child:

i101.photobucket.comView Full Size


Those books and illustrations STILL creep me out as an adult!
 
2012-10-31 2:37:15 AM  

echo5juliet: I am the OP


Your OP is the best halloween post here evar.
 
2012-10-31 2:37:37 AM  
 
2012-10-31 2:39:36 AM  
propelpages.comView Full Size
 

soon
 
2012-10-31 2:42:03 AM  

muck4doo: Better sample of Disney Halloween


Fark, yeah. Perfect for the trick-or-treaters.
 
2012-10-31 2:48:47 AM  
The story of the guy who died in cell 14D. Now there's a locked-room mystery for you.
 
2012-10-31 2:49:56 AM  

thisisyourbrainonFark: muck4doo: Better sample of Disney Halloween

Fark, yeah. Perfect for the trick-or-treaters.


I noticed they left out the "speaking Chinese" part here.
 
2012-10-31 2:55:56 AM  
Not a scary story per say, but the most scared I've ever been in my life (well, second-most; the most was the time I walked up on a rattlesnake):

Also at Fort Irwin, I was out with an intercept team ("team" meaning me, one other guy, and a truck) on another night. We were set up all the way at the northern boundary of the exercise area, farther than I'd ever been before, and since I was the lower-ranking team member I drew the night shift. Being that our job was to intercept "enemy" radio signals, we'd set up on top of hills & far away from any other friendly forces, and this was no exception.

So at some point in the middle of the night, pitch black outside aside from the starlight, I'm sitting at my position & hearing absolutely nothing from the equipment when suddenly I cue in on this ungodly deep sound...kind of a mesh of a roar, a growl, and something being torn to shreds all at once. It's loud as fark and it's not coming out of my headphones--it's somewhere outside. Being the middle of the desert the only wildlife which made appreciable amounts of noise were coyotes, but they pretty much never bothered us in the field (they were too busy raiding the dumpsters back in garrison) and they sure as hell didn't sound anything like that. It stopped for a few seconds, and then I heard it again...about two or three seconds long, probably, but it seemed to last forever at that point.

Now keep in mind that I'm a 23 year-old soldier at this point, I didn't (and don't) believe in monsters or ghosts or any of that stuff, and I sure as hell wasn't going to wake up my partner because I was hearing weird noises in the dark. So I slowly take off the headphones, set them down in front of me, ease the door of the truck open, and grab my M-16 as I step outside (which was really good thinking on my part since all we had were blank rounds). I set one shaking boot after the other onto the hilltop and scan around me when I hear it again. Like I said, I don't believe in banshees or anything, but I'd imagine this was what one would sound like if they did exist. My brain is puzzling over it, trying to focus in on where the noise is coming from, one-by-one discarding the possibilities of a bear or a wolf or a space alien, and I hear it again. My knees are literally shaking, but I creep out towards the edge of the hilltop and peer around, but I can't see anything. I hear the sound one more time and then it's gone for the rest of the night. Eventually I calmed myself down enough to get back in the truck & start working again.

SPOILER BELOW IN WHITE (if you have me farkied you're just screwed, sorry):

It turned out my teammate heard it, too, but having been at Fort Irwin longer than I had he knew what it was. A couple of A-10s were doing live gun runs on the range a dozen or so miles north of us.

Link to hear it for yourself (real world run, so if that bothers you don't click).
 
2012-10-31 2:58:05 AM  
So I live on my own. Sometimes at night when I'm in bed, I'll hear strange scratching noises on random doors in my apartment. Also, sometimes it feels like there something (not me) moving around underneath my covers, and I get woken up in the morning by an odd tickling sensation on my face. I've also noticed that objects around my place seem to move on thier own, for example, a roll of quarters or some of my papers will move themselves from my desk to the floor in my bedroom after I leave the house for a short while and come back.

/I have a cat.
//BOO
 
2012-10-31 2:59:10 AM  
About 12 years ago, I lived with in San Jose with my now ex wife. We went out one evening going somewhere in Los Gatos (I don't remember where we were headed). I was driving and she was in the passenger seat. I had taken a couple of wrong turns and we were a bit lost in an upper-middle class residential area. This neighborhood was fairly well-lighted, and looked like it had been built in the 1950's. I decide to pull into a empty driveway to turn around and go back the opposite direction in search of our destination. The driveway I chose at random lead to a typical garage attached to a non-nondescript house with a light-colored paint job. One or 2 lights were on in the house, and the shades were all down. The front end of our car had barely crossed the sidewalk when I felt a cold wave of fathomless evil fear pass over and through me. We were about 25 feet from the garage door. I instantly hit the brakes and at the same time glanced at the ex. Her eyes were open wide and she was staring straight ahead. She looked at me and said, "Get out of here," in a very serious flat tone of voice. I was already in reverse, and got out of that neighborhood as fast as I could. We decided to abort whatever we were going to do and went straight home. We were quiet for about a minute, and after we had gone a few blocks or so, I asked her what was wrong, and she replied that she experienced a sudden "cold evil fear" as we pulled into that driveway. She essentially felt the same thing at the same moment as I did. We neither saw nor heard nothing to prompt what we sensed. Nothing of that kind ever happened to me before or since, and I'm not in the habit of experiencing that level of creepiness. I kinda wish now that I would have had the presence of mind to remember the street and house number, if only to see if that experience would happen again -in the daytime-. No way would I ever go back at night and without more witnesses. I have a pit in my stomach just remembering that night.
 
2012-10-31 3:05:53 AM  
Bookmarking for later reading.

I haven't seen it yet, but if someone can post the story about the kid and his amorphous "friend" who would follow him around.

/I farking love these threads
 
2012-10-31 3:06:09 AM  

Harv72b: Not a scary story per say, but the most scared I've ever been in my life (well, second-most; the most was the time I walked up on a rattlesnake):

Also at Fort Irwin, I was out with an intercept team ("team" meaning me, one other guy, and a truck) on another night. We were set up all the way at the northern boundary of the exercise area, farther than I'd ever been before, and since I was the lower-ranking team member I drew the night shift. Being that our job was to intercept "enemy" radio signals, we'd set up on top of hills & far away from any other friendly forces, and this was no exception.

So at some point in the middle of the night, pitch black outside aside from the starlight, I'm sitting at my position & hearing absolutely nothing from the equipment when suddenly I cue in on this ungodly deep sound...kind of a mesh of a roar, a growl, and something being torn to shreds all at once. It's loud as fark and it's not coming out of my headphones--it's somewhere outside. Being the middle of the desert the only wildlife which made appreciable amounts of noise were coyotes, but they pretty much never bothered us in the field (they were too busy raiding the dumpsters back in garrison) and they sure as hell didn't sound anything like that. It stopped for a few seconds, and then I heard it again...about two or three seconds long, probably, but it seemed to last forever at that point.

Now keep in mind that I'm a 23 year-old soldier at this point, I didn't (and don't) believe in monsters or ghosts or any of that stuff, and I sure as hell wasn't going to wake up my partner because I was hearing weird noises in the dark. So I slowly take off the headphones, set them down in front of me, ease the door of the truck open, and grab my M-16 as I step outside (which was really good thinking on my part since all we had were blank rounds). I set one shaking boot after the other onto the hilltop and scan around me when I hear it again. Like I said, I don't believe in bansh ...


Love it! Reminds of a time some friends and I took a drunken camping trip when i was 17 or 18 in the hills above Fremont CA. We had a nice campfire going by a creek and were drunk and stoned off our asses, and cooking up some grub on the camp fire. Suddenly a bright light appeared and there was a tremendous roar coming about. We couldn't tell what the sound was, or where it was coming from. The light just seemed to come from everywhere. We all got up, and were trying to run, and all had come to the same conclusion even though we didn't mention it at the moment(Visitors!). The girls were screaming for me to drive everyone out of there, my dude buddies went running into the woods.

It turned out to be a train that none of us had any idea there were even train tracks in that narrow little creek valley.

/I though it was funny afterwards, as did others.
//There were a couple who thought we should never mention the incident
 
2012-10-31 3:07:17 AM  
This isn't my own, rather from my husband, who used to work out at Six Flags Over Texas on the midnight shift when he was out of high school. He worked the midnight shift, hosing down rides and cleaning the park, and he was used to seeing and hearing all sorts of strange things in the dead of night. He'd hear people behind him, someone calling his name that wasn't there...he learned to tune it out and ignore it.

One night, however, he was hosing down the area by the Texas Giant, and he heard crying. He turned around, but thought he was hearing things again, in the hiss of the water from the hose or the nocturnal animals or the traffic on the highway on 30. And then he came face to face with this little girl in a white dress with mud on her hem, she looked to be about eight, and she said, "Can you help me find my family?" She appeared to be looking off in the distance, and he too looked that way, and when he turned back, she was gone.

He was skeptical, but talked to one of the crew members the following morning, an older guy that he thought would tell him the usual, "oh, you just hear/see weird things out there" and reassure him, but, instead, when he beat around the bush, without describing her, the crewman said, "You saw her, too?" They called her "Annie" and the lore among the crew was that, since Six Flags was originally built on a swamp bed, her family owned a home there and she drowned, and she never left.
 
2012-10-31 3:07:29 AM  
I picked up a hitchhiker many years ago, which I didn't typically do. The guy looked lost, and poorly dressed in and overcoat and I thought shorts, so I took pity. As he got in I realize he's wearing blue tights. Weirdo alert. But it felt harsh to kick him out. So we get to driving and after a few minutes he asks if I wanted to meet his friends. He produces two figurines and proceeds to introduce me. OK then. I wait a bit then indicate I need to drop him off and be on my way. He hasn't indicated where he wanted to go, just up the freeway he was standing near the entrance to. He asks if I want to split a pack of cigarettes. I decline. I take an exit I know there is a busy restaurant off of and pull into their parking lot and persuade him to get out of the car. Staying calm and friendly when things grow disturbing can work wonders with the violent and or deranged, I've found. So, thankfully, and perhaps by not freaking out, I drove away from that experience.

A few days later I heard on the news that a man very much matching his description had killed a person that had picked him up hitchhiking.
 
2012-10-31 3:09:37 AM  
Boo!
 
2012-10-31 3:10:52 AM  

fugeeface: About 12 years ago, I lived with in San Jose with my now ex wife. We went out one evening going somewhere in Los Gatos (I don't remember where we were headed). I was driving and she was in the passenger seat. I had taken a couple of wrong turns and we were a bit lost in an upper-middle class residential area. This neighborhood was fairly well-lighted, and looked like it had been built in the 1950's. I decide to pull into a empty driveway to turn around and go back the opposite direction in search of our destination. The driveway I chose at random lead to a typical garage attached to a non-nondescript house with a light-colored paint job. One or 2 lights were on in the house, and the shades were all down. The front end of our car had barely crossed the sidewalk when I felt a cold wave of fathomless evil fear pass over and through me. We were about 25 feet from the garage door. I instantly hit the brakes and at the same time glanced at the ex. Her eyes were open wide and she was staring straight ahead. She looked at me and said, "Get out of here," in a very serious flat tone of voice. I was already in reverse, and got out of that neighborhood as fast as I could. We decided to abort whatever we were going to do and went straight home. We were quiet for about a minute, and after we had gone a few blocks or so, I asked her what was wrong, and she replied that she experienced a sudden "cold evil fear" as we pulled into that driveway. She essentially felt the same thing at the same moment as I did. We neither saw nor heard nothing to prompt what we sensed. Nothing of that kind ever happened to me before or since, and I'm not in the habit of experiencing that level of creepiness. I kinda wish now that I would have had the presence of mind to remember the street and house number, if only to see if that experience would happen again -in the daytime-. No way would I ever go back at night and without more witnesses. I have a pit in my stomach just rememberin ...


Near the Cats, Central, or west mountains?
 
2012-10-31 3:12:45 AM  
my friend and i escaped nyc one weekend in autumn upstate to visit his hometown of wappingers falls, creepy in itself, esp this one black and maybe yellow house that looked evil. we visited the sleepy hollow cemetary, total storybook looking, fog everywhere, i discovered an urn by a tree wrapped in a scarf, so of course i opened it to discover bone fragments and ash.

later that night, we went for a walk deep in the woods, blazed, i was 10ft walking in front of him on this trail, quiet woods, dark and no one around. dont remember what we were talking about, but spooky shiat, when, out of the blue, a rock comes sailing thru the treetops and lands perfectly in between us. we decided to head back.

nother time, i was camping on my other friend's property, isolated in the woods. daytime, and i was setting up my tent towards the perimeter where the lawn met the tree line, suddenly heard an isolated bang, like metal on metal, coming from 100 ft away from me in the woods, like it wanted my attention. no other sounds.

my thoughts went: "did that just happen? that couldn't have happened. im just gonna pretend that didn't happen. but dude, that really happened"

also felt an unseen unwelcoming presence as a kid at xmas in my aunt and uncle's old victorian they just moved into . months later, they confessed to us tales of hauntings, objects flying, smells, voices, shadows sitting on beds, etc.

minor mundane spooky shiat, yeah, but these really things happen. i got chills remembering them
 
2012-10-31 3:13:01 AM  

blueviking: This isn't my own, rather from my husband, who used to work out at Six Flags Over Texas on the midnight shift when he was out of high school. He worked the midnight shift, hosing down rides and cleaning the park, and he was used to seeing and hearing all sorts of strange things in the dead of night. He'd hear people behind him, someone calling his name that wasn't there...he learned to tune it out and ignore it.

One night, however, he was hosing down the area by the Texas Giant, and he heard crying. He turned around, but thought he was hearing things again, in the hiss of the water from the hose or the nocturnal animals or the traffic on the highway on 30. And then he came face to face with this little girl in a white dress with mud on her hem, she looked to be about eight, and she said, "Can you help me find my family?" She appeared to be looking off in the distance, and he too looked that way, and when he turned back, she was gone.

He was skeptical, but talked to one of the crew members the following morning, an older guy that he thought would tell him the usual, "oh, you just hear/see weird things out there" and reassure him, but, instead, when he beat around the bush, without describing her, the crewman said, "You saw her, too?" They called her "Annie" and the lore among the crew was that, since Six Flags was originally built on a swamp bed, her family owned a home there and she drowned, and she never left.


Dr. Picklebacon: I picked up a hitchhiker many years ago, which I didn't typically do. The guy looked lost, and poorly dressed in and overcoat and I thought shorts, so I took pity. As he got in I realize he's wearing blue tights. Weirdo alert. But it felt harsh to kick him out. So we get to driving and after a few minutes he asks if I wanted to meet his friends. He produces two figurines and proceeds to introduce me. OK then. I wait a bit then indicate I need to drop him off and be on my way. He hasn't indicated where he wanted to go, just up the freeway he was standing near the entrance to. He asks if I want to split a pack of cigarettes. I decline. I take an exit I know there is a busy restaurant off of and pull into their parking lot and persuade him to get out of the car. Staying calm and friendly when things grow disturbing can work wonders with the violent and or deranged, I've found. So, thankfully, and perhaps by not freaking out, I drove away from that experience.

A few days later I heard on the news that a man very much matching his description had killed a person that had picked him up hitchhiking.


Awesome stories. I'm out. Keep up the great stories yall. :)
 
2012-10-31 3:13:05 AM  

potato_chip_eating_geek: Wolf892: I was 15 years old and it was the first summer where my parents decided to take a weeklong vacation to visit my grandmother. This was great for me for two reasons, the first, I was allowed to stay home alone for the week, and the second, my mother had left me a 4 gallon tub of bubblegum ice-cream that she had told me to go wild on.
I stayed awake every night late, watching Japanese anime, drinking root-beer and eating the heck out of that bubble gum ice cream. I was in 15 year old boy Heaven.
On the second to last night of the week everything was going the same. It was three o clock in the morning when I finally finished the last episode of "bubblegum crisis" (which I'd loved watching while eating bubblegum ice-cream) and decided it was time to go downstairs to bed.
So I did.
I'm not sure what time it was when I woke up, my room was dark, I was laying in bed facing my wall and I could tell that if I didn't get out of bed my bladder was going to burst.
As I started to turn over in my bed so that I could climb out, something happened that to this day (34 years old now) I'll never forget.
From right beside my head, almost like a breath away from my ear I heard as clear as day a voice. The voice was strange though because it was devoid of all inflection, all tone, all emotion. It only spoke three words to me...
"Don't turn around"
That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."

did you hear anybody move afterwards? like soneone leaving?


Nope, nothing at all. I stayed awake too, but nothing but those three words, clear as a bell. Like a speak and spell but with no inflection, like a robot or machine maybe...
 
2012-10-31 3:13:11 AM  
I've been separated from my highschool friends for more than a decade. Still, one of them used to send me letters all the time, not e-mail take note. In every letter, my classmate named Sarah, would talk about her life and spray it with her perfume.

During our highschool reunion around 10 years after graduation, I met up with my old friends. Some of them already have families while others changed drastically. I couldn't find my dear friend Sarah so I asked around if they forgot to send her the invitation. Suddenly, the organizer of the reunion pulled me aside. He asked me if I was making a horrible joke. Of course I wondered what he meant. He realized I had no idea what was going on.

Apparently, Sarah's been dead for 3 years before our reunion. She became very ill and died alone. I thought my former teacher was joking but he wasn't. I asked some of the girls whom I weren't really close with about Sarah, and they did confirm that she's been dead for 3 years. Only her closest friends knew.

Who's been sending me the letters all those years? When I googled the address on the envelope, I found out that the address belonged to an old abandoned condominium. Was someone playing a trick on me? Why would they go to such lengths to use Sarah as a joke on me? Why keep it up all those years?

The letters have stopped coming and it's already been 2 years since the reunion when I found out the truth about Sarah.
 
2012-10-31 3:16:47 AM  
I was about 26 when I moved in with my then partner and their parents. Prior to moving in, at times I had gotten feelings of being watched. The house was well over 150 years old; maybe more. It had been used back in the colonial days as a safe house for the Underground Railroad. There is a secret room in it and the only way to get to it was to climb on the roof and climb down the chimney. The chimney had footholds going down the inside of it. From what I understand the room was as a safe room, in case the Indians attacked and tried to burn the house down. The family would be able to get to the room from inside the house; the house would burn around them but, they would be safe. Afterwards they could then climb up the chimney to escape. It is believed, that at the beginning of the stairway on the first floor is where the original access to the secret room is located though no one was really sure.

The house has gone through several renovations over the years and the original design is no longer known. The house while I was there was divided in to two halves. One side my partner and I lived on it had: a living room, bedroom, and a back room/ kitchenette of sorts. There were two ways to enter our side. One way, was near the front door. As soon as someone entered, take a left and go through the double doors that lead into the living room. The other way was through a small hallway between the parent's dining room and our room. The hallway was set up more like a closet with doors on each end, that space use to be where the stoves were located when the house was first built.

The first thing to happen to me was an innocent teasing. I was sitting at my partner's computer, which is in the living room, playing a video game and listening to my cd player. The computer desk had an L shaped return; where I was resting my arm. While I was playing the game, I felt and heard a slight taping on the return. At first I didn't think anything of it, but then thought maybe my partner was trying to be subtle about wanting my attention. I turned my chair around and I asked, "Did you want something?", but nobody was there. So I turned back around and started playing the game again. A few minutes the taping started again I turned and no one was there. This went on for about ten minutes so I thought maybe my partner was playing a trick and moving out my line of sight; each time I turned the chair around. The next time the taping started; I whirled completely around. No one was there and my partner had just walked into the living room from our room, in time to see me spinning in the chair. I explained what happened and my partner told me that it was just one of the ghosts that playing with me.

I guess overtime I had become the target. Occasionally I would place something down and it would disappear; end up in a different room. At first I thought it was me not remembering where I put things. Then one night my partner had placed a new wallet on the dresser in our room and went in the living room to read a book. There is a doorway between the bedroom and the living room; but no door. My partner was sitting on the couch and watched the wallet lift up off the dresser float in mid- air and place itself on the other dresser, across the room. My partner went into the room and confirmed that the wallet was now indeed on the other dresser; not where it was original placed.

There would be other odd occurrences that would go on. The toilet flushing by itself, every once in a while I would see a dark shape near the heater in the kitchenette. The one thing that was most interesting is that I would be sitting in the living watching TV and I would see a black and white cat run across the doorway between the living room and bedroom. I once told my partner's older sister about the cat and she then told me that they use to have a black and white cat named Patches.

I only lived there for about a year because we broke up. We got back together but, that is where things changed. There were nights that I would stay over and my partner would have to go to work earlier than I did. After my partner left, some mornings I would be half in and out of sleep but, I would feel the weight of someone curled up on my back lying next to me. The first time I thought that my partner and come back home feeling ill or something; I turned over and nothing was there and the weighted feeling was gone. The same thing happened but this time; I felt the slight weight of someone's hand caressing my side. I got out of the bed. This went on for a few weeks to the point that I no longer wanted to stay in the house without my partner there. It kept happening until one morning, I bolted up and yelled, "Stop it!" It stopped for a time, but then I changed jobs and didn't have to go in until a later time and something else started to happen.

The first time I stayed over after changing jobs, my partner left at the usual time. I was lying awake in bed trying to get back to sleep. My partner had left the hallway doors open so I could see down the hall way and into the parent's dining room. I was facing the hallway when suddenly I saw the shape of someone holding a lantern up. The figure crossed the doorway on the dining room side and went into the parent's kitchen. I was alone in the house; the parents were away. My initial thought was that someone had broken in, but I had not heard any sounds. I remained still my heart pounding; I saw the light cross the doorway again. It came from the kitchen and crossed the dining room; like someone was looking for something. I decided to mustard up the courage to go out there and see what was going on. My partner keeps a dagger under the bed, so I grabbed the dagger and walked out the room. I was shaking; I thought for sure someone else was in the house and trying to rob it. I turned on the closet light switch to me. But found nothing. I checked all the doors; they were locked. Shaken and quite awake, I dressed, left the house and hung out at the local coffee shop until I had to go to work. When I told my partner about it I got the response, "Oh that's the caretaker, he may have just been wondering what you were doing still in bed." Until that day I had never encountered that ghost, and it terrified me.

After that day things escalated with that ghost. My partner's parents headed down south for the winter and left us in charge of the house. I would still stay over at times but after my partner left for work, I would migrate to the couch in the living room; in hopes of avoiding the caretaker. A series of incidents caused me to finally break and get mad. I was sleeping on the couch; I would hear and feel the vibrations of pounding footsteps. They would start from the dining room, go through my partner's room and end at the doorway of the living room. I had it and yelled, "I don't have to be up at that ing time anymore so leave me alone." But that didn't stop the pounding. I ended up not staying over anymore and eventually we stopped dating. The house has since been sold and I can only imagine what the new owners are experiencing.
 
2012-10-31 3:17:59 AM  

GreenSun: I've been separated from my highschool friends for more than a decade. Still, one of them used to send me letters all the time, not e-mail take note. In every letter, my classmate named Sarah, would talk about her life and spray it with her perfume.

During our highschool reunion around 10 years after graduation, I met up with my old friends. Some of them already have families while others changed drastically. I couldn't find my dear friend Sarah so I asked around if they forgot to send her the invitation. Suddenly, the organizer of the reunion pulled me aside. He asked me if I was making a horrible joke. Of course I wondered what he meant. He realized I had no idea what was going on.

Apparently, Sarah's been dead for 3 years before our reunion. She became very ill and died alone. I thought my former teacher was joking but he wasn't. I asked some of the girls whom I weren't really close with about Sarah, and they did confirm that she's been dead for 3 years. Only her closest friends knew.

Who's been sending me the letters all those years? When I googled the address on the envelope, I found out that the address belonged to an old abandoned condominium. Was someone playing a trick on me? Why would they go to such lengths to use Sarah as a joke on me? Why keep it up all those years?

The letters have stopped coming and it's already been 2 years since the reunion when I found out the truth about Sarah.


It would be creepier if you still got the letters.
 
2012-10-31 3:23:00 AM  
Ugh, several incidents, some can be partially explained by sleep paralysis and a really messed up mind. The other... not so much.

In college years ago I had a girlfriend who shared an apartment with her close friend from home. We were all asleep, me and my girlfriend, and earlier in the week her and her roommate had been telling me about feeling creeped out in their apartment. I thought nothing of it, as I had noticed that they had just in general been really irritated with each other over conflicting schedules for things, so thought they were just expressing the tension in another way.

I woke up around 3 am on my side, facing away from the middle of the bed. In the corner of the room, near an antique mirror I had recently bought my girlfriend that was still not yet hung on a wall, was a darker shadow than what was elsewhere in the room. I remember it having one foot disappearing into the leaning mirror. As I watched, it came over to me, still just a black person shaped thing, and held me down, while trying to pour something into my ear. At this point I was doing my best to call out my girlfriends name, thinking that if she could just touch me everything would be fine: I would be able to move, the image would go away, and I'd wake up from my sleep/creepy dream.

At some point she hears me stuttering part of her name and rolls over and touches me just as the shadow tips whatever it had towards my ear. I shoot upright in bed and yell "get out of here" in what her and her friend said over and over was not anything like my own voice or any tone I've ever used before when mimicking someone. After I scare the crap out of everyone else we notice the mirror has fallen over, which shouldn't happen as it was firmly leaning up against the wall. Needless to say we were all a bit freaked out, so gather in the living room on the couch and futon to try and get some more sleep.

An hour or so after we all fell asleep, we all woke up to the sound of someone stomping down the hallway from the far bedroom, and then my gf and I hear a voice whisper behind us that said "you need to get out, he's after (my name)". Her friend was across the room from us, so it couldn't have been her not to mention the fact the voice was rather different from hers, so we all up and rush from the apt out into the hallway, and eventually back to my dorm. The apt. was on the top floor, so the sound of the stomping couldn't have been someone above walking heavily.

We all refused to go back in there alone until we had someone come and take the mirror. I don't know why, but everything in the apartment seemed to get better once the mirror was gone. Looking back, I would like to believe it was just a very disturbing episode of sleep paralysis (my first ever bout of it nonetheless) and some sort of shared hysteria brought on by lack of sleep.
------------
Episode two of sleep paralysis came when I was working as an expediter and having just delivered a shipment late one night, drove off to a corner of the factory property and set up for some sleep in the cargo van. I had a pretty decent setup, as it was a dodge sprinter van, so I had a rather nice fold down bed with memory foam,heated/cooled cab, power inverter and all that good stuff. Well, on this trip I was showing a younger relative the ropes so we were working as a driving team. He had a cot in the back, and there was plenty of room for us. Once again, I wake up around 3am, as I can see the little digital clock stuck to the wall near my head. Once again, I can't move, hurray sleep paralysis, as I had learned it was called by that point. I wasn't to worried, and just tried to go back to sleep, but my eyes caught movement at the back windows of the van. I saw another shadow walk through the back doors,and slightly ruffle the blackout curtains covering the windows, but the shadow looked like it was still standing on the ground and not on the elevated floor of the van. On its way to me it seemed to step up into/onto the flooring, and came to the side of my bed. Once again it reached out towards my ear with something in its hand. At this point I was doing my best to call out to my cousin while trying to close my eyes. What ended up waking me up/ bringing me out of the sleep paralysis was my best friend from college calling me on my cell phone. Just before I am able to move I see the shadow bend down closer to me and whisper "one day, you will be ours", then it disappears out the side of the van. I answer the phone, and my friend starts asking if I'm alright, and he called because he had an overwhelming sense to check on me.

Once again, I want to write this off as sleep paralysis, but my friend calling me at that exact moment is still wierd as all heck.
-----------------
Last one, I swear!
Back to college days. I was driving over to my previously mentioned gf's apartment really late one night, and it was extremely densely foggy that night. Driving across the south side of campus, which opened out onto farm and animal research fields,so the fog along the road was really really thick there. Had just gotten off the cell phone telling her where I was at and would be there in 5-10 minutes. After I hang up I'm driving towards a stoplight and a set of railroad tracks. As I go past the intersection, I notice I can't see the stoplight in my mirrors. I figure maybe the power went out for some odd reason and think nothing of it. Then I notice the next set of lights up ahead of me are dark as well, and all the streetlights past that. As I keep driving, I feel the road get rougher, which wasn't right as the intersection I was coming upon was recently repaved earlier that year. I keep driving.

After a few minutes I realize I should come up on,and even passed, the apt. complex. I slow down, hit the brights, and can't see anything other than ditches and tallish grass on either side of the road. This isn't right. I pull slowly over to the side of the road, leave the car running, and get out. I'm on a dirt road, in the middle of nowhere, with ditches on either side when I should be on a paved road with curbs and in a suburban area. I try calling my friend, my gf, my folks, no signal no bars on the cell. I get back in the car and keep driving... and driving... and driving. Eventually I realize I've been driving for better than half an hour, with no bend in the road and no intersections. I slowdown and stop again and try the cell phone again. Nothing. I look up and in my rearview mirror I see someone standing just inside the light from my brakelights, wearing a white dressing gown. Looks like a woman, but at this point I was not willing to wait and find out. I slam on the gas and take off like a bat out of hell. Ten minutes later or so I come flying out of the dense fog and through the intersection just before the apartment complex I was heading to doing 90mph . My cell phone starts going off, and after I pull into the complex I answer it and it was my gf wondering where the hell I've been and what I was doing, as I should have been there 45 minutes ago.

When I go to shut off my car after pulling into a parking space, with my gf waiting on the sidewalk and coming to the car looking mad and worried at the same time, she notices that the clock on my dash is off, slow by nearly 45 minutes, and the same goes for my phone (this was before the age of the always set by network time), and that's when I notice my full tank of gas from when I left had dropped by a quarter of a tank for what should have been a 5 mile drive. The time being off like that stood out to her because I'm normally the one setting everything to the same, as correct as I can get it, time.

That one I can't explain, and really don't ever want to try to. I did, however, learn in doing some research later on that the stretch of road there on the south side of campus has had all kinds of ghost stories and lost time stories relating to it over the years.Those are my experiences, take em as you see fit.
 
2012-10-31 3:25:49 AM  

echo5juliet: FraggleStickCar: Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from...

This is a really old urban legend, have heard it plenty of times. Still creepy though and could have origins in truth, I suppose.

That is funny since I am the OP and it really happened. I was driving a maroon 1978 280Z. The 9mm was a Ruger P85. The Fiero was red. The woman in the road was wearing faded blue jeans and a pale pink shirt. The suitcase in the road closest to me was tan in color. The oddest thing about the picture in front of me was that the suitcases were open and the contents were scattered around far more evenly that you would think would happen in a real accident. That is what stood out, everything was too spread, that and there were no skid marks to explain why the Fiero was sideways in the street.

If it is a really old urban legend it must be because the same group pulled it on lots of people before they pulled it on me.


I'm sure many people have tried to do this sort of thing, sort of a modern highwayman. Although I'm not sure if it's more effective than an attractive woman having car trouble, I can imagine a lot of people would get out of their cars to investigate.

Definitely creepy. Although you could adapt it into a screenplay if you looked back and saw the bodies were gone, then as you looked ahead of your car saw them standing right there looking at you.

/Maybe only for an episode of 'Are You Afraid of the Dark', but still
 
2012-10-31 3:26:51 AM  
I'll have to read the thread later, maybe post again if it isn't dead by the time I get home later tonight...meanwhile I'll repost this one from the 2010 thread. I could have sworn I posted another story in an even earlier thread but I can't find it right now.

"A couple of years ago on July 4th, my brother and I went out to the lake to see fireworks, and we got to a spot just in time. Nice show. Then...we went to find Newcomer Cemetery out there. It's named after the Newcomer family that lived on that side of the city around the turn of the last century, and the cemetery is very tiny and sort of 'appears' without warning when you come around the curve of the road. We were just poking about in near-pitch darkness with a fading flashlight - sometimes cars would drive past, but their headlights didn't really illuminate much because of the aforementioned curve, and the nearest streetlight was hidden by trees.

I'd knelt down by a headstone, trying in vain to read the incription, when I saw something walk through my flashlight's beam not three feet away. And that wasn't there when I moved to follow it. I swear it was someone's feet, I have the clear impression it was a white sneaker with a red stripe or something, but when I called for my brother he was over on the opposite side of the cemetery, too far to have gone in about three seconds...and no one else was in the cemetery that we could find. I never even heard the nearby brush rustling.

We kinda decided it was time to go."
 
2012-10-31 3:31:46 AM  
Another one, from my husband yet again. I've had a few experiences like fugeeface, where I've experienced that slithering, burrowing feeling in your gut where you know something is just indescribably wrong, only to find out that you've narrowly escaped something or you've been in a place with lots of death and mayhem. The hubby's actually seen these things.

He and a few friends went to a place in Hays, KS called "Blue Light Lady", a locale by the hospital where a nurse would purportedly take her breaks to escape the despair and death that was her job. However, when she died, they found a will requesting that she be buried on the hill where she would take her break. The city, and church, complied. On a winter night, they all decided to go check out her tombstone, and my husband brought his new Maglite flashlight. They get out to the tombstone, after synching their watches, as my husband and his buddies were going to play Cat and Mouse that evening and they needed to be sure that everyone was set up.

A friend of theirs decided to get a closer look, and placed her hand on the tombstone to view the inscription. All the flashlights, even my husband's Maglite, went dark. He had new batteries, as well. He tried shifting the batteries around as his friends did the same to the two other flashlights they have. And then they heard the sound of a radio playing as though it were traveling closer and closer, but they were out in an isolated area by themselves, away from the highway and traffic. They told their friend to take her hand off the headstone, which she did, and, with the flashlights surging back on, they hightailed it back to the car. When they reached the vehicle, there was a dreamcatcher, hanging from the rearview mirror, suspended as though it were being buffetted by the wind, but both windows were up and the sound of a radio playing. Their watches were all off, as well, when they went to play Cat and Mouse, some by only a minute, others by as much as ten.
 
2012-10-31 3:31:53 AM  

muck4doo: fugeeface: About 12 years ago, I lived with in San Jose with my now ex wife. We went out one evening going somewhere in Los Gatos (I don't remember where we were headed). I was driving and she was in the passenger seat. I had taken a couple of wrong turns and we were a bit lost in an upper-middle class residential area. This neighborhood was fairly well-lighted, and looked like it had been built in the 1950's. I decide to pull into a empty driveway to turn around and go back the opposite direction in search of our destination. The driveway I chose at random lead to a typical garage attached to a non-nondescript house with a light-colored paint job. One or 2 lights were on in the house, and the shades were all down. The front end of our car had barely crossed the sidewalk when I felt a cold wave of fathomless evil fear pass over and through me. We were about 25 feet from the garage door. I instantly hit the brakes and at the same time glanced at the ex. Her eyes were open wide and she was staring straight ahead. She looked at me and said, "Get out of here," in a very serious flat tone of voice. I was already in reverse, and got out of that neighborhood as fast as I could. We decided to abort whatever we were going to do and went straight home. We were quiet for about a minute, and after we had gone a few blocks or so, I asked her what was wrong, and she replied that she experienced a sudden "cold evil fear" as we pulled into that driveway. She essentially felt the same thing at the same moment as I did. We neither saw nor heard nothing to prompt what we sensed. Nothing of that kind ever happened to me before or since, and I'm not in the habit of experiencing that level of creepiness. I kinda wish now that I would have had the presence of mind to remember the street and house number, if only to see if that experience would happen again -in the daytime-. No way would I ever go back at night and without more witnesses. I have a pit in my stomach just ...


I really avoided that area, and haven't been back, as I have no reasons to be over that way, but my hazy recollection would have to say maybe the area to the right of 17 (going south), in between W Main and 9. Definitely not out by the Cats, and not to the east of 17. Maybe the area bounded by 17, 9, Santa Cruz Ave, and Blossom Hill.
 
2012-10-31 3:39:25 AM  

blueviking: Another one, from my husband yet again. I've had a few experiences like fugeeface, where I've experienced that slithering, burrowing feeling in your gut where you know something is just indescribably wrong, only to find out that you've narrowly escaped something or you've been in a place with lots of death and mayhem. The hubby's actually seen these things.

He and a few friends went to a place in Hays, KS called "Blue Light Lady", a locale by the hospital where a nurse would purportedly take her breaks to escape the despair and death that was her job. However, when she died, they found a will requesting that she be buried on the hill where she would take her break. The city, and church, complied. On a winter night, they all decided to go check out her tombstone, and my husband brought his new Maglite flashlight. They get out to the tombstone, after synching their watches, as my husband and his buddies were going to play Cat and Mouse that evening and they needed to be sure that everyone was set up.

A friend of theirs decided to get a closer look, and placed her hand on the tombstone to view the inscription. All the flashlights, even my husband's Maglite, went dark. He had new batteries, as well. He tried shifting the batteries around as his friends did the same to the two other flashlights they have. And then they heard the sound of a radio playing as though it were traveling closer and closer, but they were out in an isolated area by themselves, away from the highway and traffic. They told their friend to take her hand off the headstone, which she did, and, with the flashlights surging back on, they hightailed it back to the car. When they reached the vehicle, there was a dreamcatcher, hanging from the rearview mirror, suspended as though it were being buffetted by the wind, but both windows were up and the sound of a radio playing. Their watches were all off, as well, when they went to play Cat and Mouse, some by only a minute, others by as much as ten.


Trippy story. That slithering gut feeling you referred to was nothing like I experienced that night. It was a full-bodied, head-to-toe, fron to back icy chill mixed with terror with a side of subdued panic. And I'm not one to panic. Not my way.
 
2012-10-31 3:43:45 AM  
I grew up in an old two-flat house in Chicago. I had a small room, big enough for my bed, my desk, a bookcase, dresser, and not much else, on the north side of the house. My bed was a four-poster with space underneath it for a disorganized assortment of toys and miscellaneous stuff. It was in the northwest corner, along the north wall, its head in the corner and its foot beneath the room's one window. The bookcase and desk were along the south wall. The ceiling angled down in the northeast corner, under the stairway to the second floor, and the dresser was tucked in under the slope. In the southeast corner, diagonally across from where the head of my bed was, were two doors; the door to the room itself in the south wall, and the door to the closet in the east wall. The bedrooms in that house all had sizable but narrow walk-in closets, and mine was full of hanging clothes, a shoe rack, and a high shelf full of pillows and blankets and various boxes of stuff. The back side of my closet door had a row of hooks on which were hung a number of winter coats. I slept in that room from the age of four or five until I was twenty. When I was little I never had any monsters under my bed or in the closet.

Except just that one time when I was about nine.

It was one night, after everyone had gone to bed and the house had settled down in darkness, and the busy street in front of the house had quieted to only the occasional car whispering past. I was lying in bed in the dark and the quiet, drifting in and out of that foggy half-awareness that is neither quite wakefulness nor quite yet sleep, when odd random images which are neither thoughts nor dreams play through your mind. I was perhaps a few seconds away from finally sinking into full sleep, falling, fading, when with the very last remnant of conscious awareness I heard something, a soft, gentle sort of shifting sound from somewhere across the room. I dragged my eyelids up just a crack and in the dimness I saw the closet door swinging slowly open. It stopped moving as soon as I looked at it.

I have never awakened so instantly or as fully as I did at that moment. I don't think I ever believed in closet monsters, which is probably why I never had any, but it's one thing to know rationally what exists in your closet and what does not, and another thing entirely to be a little kid jerked awake in the dark watching his closet door stop opening. I don't remember how long I lay there petrified, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, staring into the impenetrable blackness along the edge of that slightly-open door, my mind racing to imagine what unimaginable thing might be staring back at me, some horrid dark bulgy-eyed thing coiled and hungry, waiting for me to fall asleep so it could move again. It needed me to be asleep. It could only get me when I was asleep. It had made a mistake, been too eager, moved too soon, and now it had to wait, motionless and silent. As long as I stayed awake and didn't move and didn't look away.

Eventually I got enough of a grip on things to leap out of bed and punch the light on and pull the closet door open. The door hadn't been pushed closed all the way, and something - a hanging coat or a shelved pillow or something, I don't remember now - had fallen to the floor against the door and pushed it open with its weight. So I managed to get to sleep after all that night, but I did scan the back of that closet with a flashlight first, and for quite some time after that I made damn sure that door was good and closed before I went to bed.
 
2012-10-31 3:46:42 AM  

fugeeface: blueviking: Another one, from my husband yet again. I've had a few experiences like fugeeface, where I've experienced that slithering, burrowing feeling in your gut where you know something is just indescribably wrong, only to find out that you've narrowly escaped something or you've been in a place with lots of death and mayhem. The hubby's actually seen these things.

He and a few friends went to a place in Hays, KS called "Blue Light Lady", a locale by the hospital where a nurse would purportedly take her breaks to escape the despair and death that was her job. However, when she died, they found a will requesting that she be buried on the hill where she would take her break. The city, and church, complied. On a winter night, they all decided to go check out her tombstone, and my husband brought his new Maglite flashlight. They get out to the tombstone, after synching their watches, as my husband and his buddies were going to play Cat and Mouse that evening and they needed to be sure that everyone was set up.

A friend of theirs decided to get a closer look, and placed her hand on the tombstone to view the inscription. All the flashlights, even my husband's Maglite, went dark. He had new batteries, as well. He tried shifting the batteries around as his friends did the same to the two other flashlights they have. And then they heard the sound of a radio playing as though it were traveling closer and closer, but they were out in an isolated area by themselves, away from the highway and traffic. They told their friend to take her hand off the headstone, which she did, and, with the flashlights surging back on, they hightailed it back to the car. When they reached the vehicle, there was a dreamcatcher, hanging from the rearview mirror, suspended as though it were being buffetted by the wind, but both windows were up and the sound of a radio playing. Their watches were all off, as well, when they went to play Cat and Mouse, some by only a minute, others by as much as t ...


That's what terror feels like to me at least, this visceral, gut-wrenching, starts off as a worming sensation of "holy-fark-if-I-don't-get-the-fark-outta-here-Imma-puke" sense. Sorry if I projected.
 
2012-10-31 3:49:13 AM  

blueviking: fugeeface: blueviking: Another one, from my husband yet again. I've had a few experiences like fugeeface, where I've experienced that slithering, burrowing feeling in your gut where you know something is just indescribably wrong, only to find out that you've narrowly escaped something or you've been in a place with lots of death and mayhem. The hubby's actually seen these things.

He and a few friends went to a place in Hays, KS called "Blue Light Lady", a locale by the hospital where a nurse would purportedly take her breaks to escape the despair and death that was her job. However, when she died, they found a will requesting that she be buried on the hill where she would take her break. The city, and church, complied. On a winter night, they all decided to go check out her tombstone, and my husband brought his new Maglite flashlight. They get out to the tombstone, after synching their watches, as my husband and his buddies were going to play Cat and Mouse that evening and they needed to be sure that everyone was set up.

A friend of theirs decided to get a closer look, and placed her hand on the tombstone to view the inscription. All the flashlights, even my husband's Maglite, went dark. He had new batteries, as well. He tried shifting the batteries around as his friends did the same to the two other flashlights they have. And then they heard the sound of a radio playing as though it were traveling closer and closer, but they were out in an isolated area by themselves, away from the highway and traffic. They told their friend to take her hand off the headstone, which she did, and, with the flashlights surging back on, they hightailed it back to the car. When they reached the vehicle, there was a dreamcatcher, hanging from the rearview mirror, suspended as though it were being buffetted by the wind, but both windows were up and the sound of a radio playing. Their watches were all off, as well, when they went to play Cat and Mouse, some by only a minute, others by a ...


Nothing to be sorry for...now I understand what you meant.
/Shudder
 
2012-10-31 3:49:27 AM  
Not a ghost story, but scary and supposedly true:

In Indiana where I was born my Grandma told of an incident that took place out in the country near a small community, when she was a child. They had a country store that was also the local Post Office and social hub. On one side of the river ran the railroad tracks near one edge of town. Somewhere near town a cougar had taken up residence in a cave on the river bluff, below the tracks. There were random animals being killed when the train would pass and they knew the cougar was doing the killing because of the bodies being shredded, paw prints around and the cougars screams.

They believed that the cougar was a female with cubs so she was staying in one location rather than roaming widely. They also believed that the sound of the train whistle was causing the cougar to go mad due to the sound, because the train whistle was always followed by the cougars baleful scream. They began staying/running indoors whenever they heard the train whistles, didn't matter where you were, you heard the first distant train whistle and you ran to the nearest house, barn or outbuilding and shut yourself in until well after the train was past. Didn't matter whose house either or whether anyone was home or not. Men in town were trying to find the cougars lair but had not had any luck yet.

One late afternoon a woman was outside with her young daughters when she heard the train whistle, they also heard the cougar scream from very near and they began running for the nearest house, where several adults and numerous children were also running. They heard the whistle and then the cougars scream close and everyone was grabbing children and trying to get into the house.

The woman was carrying her youngest child in one arm and lifting her skirts with the other making a mad dash to the house. Unbeknownst to her her older daughter had fallen when she bumped into someone, the child jumped up and ran the rest of the way to the porch steps as the door was slammed shut. Her mother didn't know that she had not made it into the house as all the children were screaming, crying and it was general chaos inside. As the girl scrambled up the steps the whistle sounded again and from directly behind her the cougar screamed...and so did she.

They realized everyone was not inside when out on the porch the blended screams were followed by blood running beneath the door.
 
2012-10-31 3:56:58 AM  

Asplenium: echo5juliet: If it is a really old urban legend it must be because the same group pulled it on lots of people before they pulled it on me.

I'm sure many people have tried to do this sort of thing, sort of a modern highwayman. Although I'm not sure if it's more effective than an attractive woman having car trouble, I can imagine a lot of people would get out of their cars to investigate.


For Halloween one year a mixed group of friends and I decided to "fake a dead body on the side of the road." Yeah.

Anyway, we get an old pair of jeans and stuff it with newspaper and then get lazy, not wanting to stuff a shirt and so on, so we just staple an old pair of sneakers onto the jeans and stuff the waist into a garbage bag filled with paper and leaves.

So we take the 'corpse' out to Sweet Hollow Road near Huntington (Long Island, for those keeping track). The road starts out normal enough, then winds through some park land or other and gets thoroughly overgrown on both sides (http://goo.gl/maps/wHGGv) and eventually loses its striping, although still being two-way. On darker nights, you can't see a damned thing unless it's in your headlights.

So we put the 'body' down and drive off, only to turn back to see our handiwork; it's too far into the thick, so I get out of the car and pull it further into the road. We drive off and repeat; still not very visible. This time while pulling the 'body' into the road another car comes up from behind us and edges past slowly. Both driver (guy) and passenger (gal) look out the passenger window to see what the hell I'm doing, see the 'body', and their eyes go wider than saucers, mouths falling open.

I decided to be nice and folded a leg impossibly. "It's fake." While the girl put her hands over in her face, the guy was all, "farking cool, man!"

We went back maybe an hour later and the body was gone, so I'm guessing someone didn't care for the joke.
 
2012-10-31 3:59:12 AM  
 
2012-10-31 3:59:52 AM  
Not mine, an old Creepypasta called "Candle Cove":

NetNostalgia Forum - Television (local)
Skyshale033
Subject: Candle Cove local kid's show?
Does anyone remember this kid's show? It was called Candle Cove and I must have been 6 or 7. I never found reference to it anywhere so I think it was on a local station around 1971 or 1972. I lived in Ironton at the time. I don't remember which station, but I do remember it was on at a weird time, like 4:00 PM.

mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
it seems really familiar to me.....i grew up outside of ashland and was 9 yrs old in 72. candle cove...was it about pirates? i remember a pirate marionete at the mouth of a cave talking to a little girl


Skyshale033 Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
YES! Okay I'm not crazy! I remember Pirate Percy. I was always kind of scared of him. He looked like he was built from parts of other dolls, real low-budget. His head was an old porcelain baby doll, looked like an antique that didn't belong on the body. I don't remember what station this was! I don't think it was WTSF though.

Jaren_2005
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
Sorry to ressurect this old thread but I know exactly what show you mean, Skyshale. I think Candle Cove ran for only a couple months in '71, not '72. I was 12 and I watched it a few times with my brother. It was channel 58, whatever station that was. My mom would let me switch to it after the news. Let me see what I remember.

It took place in Candle cove, and it was about a little girl who imagined herself to be friends with pirates. The pirate ship was called the Laughingstock, and Pirate Percy wasn't a very good pirate because he got scared too easily. And there was calliope music constantly playing. Don't remember the girl's name. Janice or Jade or something. Think it was Janice.


Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
Thank you Jaren!!! Memories flooded back when you mentioned the Laughingstock and channel 58. I remember the bow of the ship was a wooden smiling face, with the lower jaw submerged. It looked like it was swallowing the sea and it had that awful Ed Wynn voice and laugh. I especially remember how jarring it was when they switched from the wooden/plastic model, to the foam puppet version of the head that talked.


mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
ha ha i remember now too. ;) do you remember this part skyshale: "you have...to go...INSIDE."


Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
Ugh mike, I got a chill reading that. Yes I remember. That's what the ship always told Percy when there was a spooky place he had to go in, like a cave or a dark room where the treasure was. And the camera would push in on Laughingstock's face with each pause. YOU HAVE... TO GO... INSIDE. With his two eyes askew and that flopping foam jaw and the fishing line that opened and closed it. Ugh. It just looked so cheap and awful.

You guys remember the villain? He had a face that was just a handlebar mustache above really tall, narrow teeth.


kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
i honestly, honestly thought the villain was pirate percy. i was about 5 when this show was on. nightmare fuel.


Jaren_2005
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
That wasn't the villain, the puppet with the mustache. That was the villain's sidekick, Horace Horrible. He had a monocle too, but it was on top of the mustache. I used to think that meant he had only one eye.

But yeah, the villain was another marionette. The Skin-Taker. I can't believe what they let us watch back then.


kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
jesus h. christ, the skin taker. what kind of a kids show were we watching? i seriously could not look at the screen when the skin taker showed up. he just descended out of nowhere on his strings, just a dirty skeleton wearing that brown top hat and cape. and his glass eyes that were too big for his skull. christ almighty.


Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
Wasn't his top hat and cloak all sewn up crazily? Was that supposed to be children's skin??


mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
yeah i think so. rememer his mouth didn't open and close, his jaw just slid back and foth. i remember the little girl said "why does your mouth move like that" and the skin-taker didn't look at the girl but at the camera and said "TO GRIND YOUR SKIN"


Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
I'm so relieved that other people remember this terrible show!

I used to have this awful memory, a bad dream I had where the opening jingle ended, the show faded in from black, and all the characters were there, but the camera was just cutting to each of their faces, and they were just screaming, and the puppets and marionettes were flailing spastically, and just all screaming, screaming. The girl was just moaning and crying like she had been through hours of this. I woke up many times from that nightmare. I used to wet the bed when I had it.


kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
i don't think that was a dream. i remember that. i remember that was an episode.


Skyshale033
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
No no no, not possible. There was no plot or anything, I mean literally just standing in place crying and screaming for the whole show.


kevin_hart
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
maybe i'm manufacturing the memory because you said that, but i swear to god i remember seeing what you described. they just screamed.


Candle Cove Intro (1970 Children's Show)(00:28)
5,027 views
This is the intro that played at the beginning of most episodes
Added by WikiaBot

Jaren_2005
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
Oh God. Yes. The little girl, Janice, I remember seeing her shake. And the Skin-Taker screaming through his gnashing teeth, his jaw careening so wildly I thought it would come off its wire hinges. I turned it off and it was the last time I watched. I ran to tell my brother and we didn't have the courage to turn it back on.

mike_painter65
Subject: Re: Candle Cove local kid's show?
i visited my mom today at the nursing home. i asked her about when i was littel in the early 70s, when i was 8 or 9 and if she remebered a kid's show, candle cove. she said she was suprised i could remember that and i asked why, and she said "because i used to think it was so strange that you said 'i'm gona go watch candle cove now mom' and then you would tune the tv to static and juts watch dead air for 30 minutes. you had a big imagination with your little pirate show."
 
2012-10-31 4:10:15 AM  

OK So Amuse Me: Not a ghost story, but scary and supposedly true:

In Indiana where I was born my Grandma told of an incident that took place out in the country near a small community, when she was a child. They had a country store that was also the local Post Office and social hub. On one side of the river ran the railroad tracks near one edge of town. Somewhere near town a cougar had taken up residence in a cave on the river bluff, below the tracks. There were random animals being killed when the train would pass and they knew the cougar was doing the killing because of the bodies being shredded, paw prints around and the cougars screams.

They believed that the cougar was a female with cubs so she was staying in one location rather than roaming widely. They also believed that the sound of the train whistle was causing the cougar to go mad due to the sound, because the train whistle was always followed by the cougars baleful scream. They began staying/running indoors whenever they heard the train whistles, didn't matter where you were, you heard the first distant train whistle and you ran to the nearest house, barn or outbuilding and shut yourself in until well after the train was past. Didn't matter whose house either or whether anyone was home or not. Men in town were trying to find the cougars lair but had not had any luck yet.

One late afternoon a woman was outside with her young daughters when she heard the train whistle, they also heard the cougar scream from very near and they began running for the nearest house, where several adults and numerous children were also running. They heard the whistle and then the cougars scream close and everyone was grabbing children and trying to get into the house.

The woman was carrying her youngest child in one arm and lifting her skirts with the other making a mad dash to the house. Unbeknownst to her her older daughter had fallen when she bumped into someone, the child jumped up and ran the rest of the way to the porch steps as the d ...


The unpredictability of nature can always be terrifying...poor thing.

My Granpa always used to tell me and my brother to be careful, or the Wendigo would get us if we strayed off of the path of being righteous people, loved to tell us about it around Halloween, especially. He told us of Old Sam, a known panhandler and drunk around the town he grew up in when he was a boy. Sam would occasionally get into trouble with the local law, getting drunk in the bars and starting fights with the more respectable people. Finally, Sam left town to go off to see if he could bank on the Porcupine Gold Rush in Ontario, which everyone knew was a failed prospect, of course. He was traveled with another panhandler, another man, whose name Granpa never mentioned, known to be violent and dangerous. The word was amongst the townspeople that he was from the States and had left because he was fleeing a murder charge. They were just glad to see him and Sam go.

Well, about two months later, someone comes upon a campsite that looks like it's been ransacked, maybe a hundred miles outside of town and well into the wilderness. They believed that this was the man that Sam was traveling with...but it appeared as though he had been partially eaten. They thought it was wolves, since they had been a problem for a few years, but, then they came upon Sam's frozen corpse a few miles later, his mouth crusted with blood, and, they could not see any injuries on him, apart from severe burns and disfigurement in his feet, as though he had been dragged so fast that they had begun to peel away and burn off. There were only a few tracks, but they were not of any predator known, and the drag marks ended long after the huge paw prints, three times bigger than any bear, had faded.

Used to scare the ever-lubbin' bejeebus out of us kids....
 
2012-10-31 4:13:07 AM  
Tweakers can be scary things.

So it's back in 2006, and I'm visiting my Uncle up around Stanislaus national forest. I'm not on 49, taking a side road. It's early evening. Anyways, I'd been driving a long long way (from the Bay Area), and I stopped for a pee break near a convenient grove.

I'm zipping up, and on a nearby hill I can make out a figure. Looks like a guy in light clothing, tshirt, jeans. He wasn't walking towards me. He was walking backwards. As in facing me, but moving in the other direction. Pretty fast and in a real jerky fashion. The speed of his movement was the weirdest thing- out on a hill, but moving like he had no fear of tripping even though he wasn't looking where he was going

I bolted back to the car and took off. I don't know what that man was on to make him move and act the way he was acting, and I don't have a lot of experience with high people, but he wasn't moving like people do.

People who are not in their right state of minds can be pretty scary. I stick to taking Hwy 120 when i go to see relatives now.
 
2012-10-31 4:14:40 AM  
This is actually a true story (it's also not mine):
It's 1966, Jorge da Costa Alves finds himself flying a kite one afternoon in the nearby Vintém Hill, in Niterói, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. As the 18 year old Jorge walks around Vintém Hill, he makes the macabre discovery of two bodies laying side by side in the tall weeds. The bodies were of two men, who appeared to be dressed identically. Both men were dressed in matching suits and wore impermeable coats. Which wasn't out of the ordinary since the area had been drenched by recent showers. What was out of the ordinary were the protective lead masks over their faces. The type of masks used to protect against radiation poisoning. Here, laying dead in the rain-soaked vegetation of Vintém Hill are two mean in suits, a rain coat and lead masks over their faces.
Photo from the scene (warning: corpse; not graphic, but calling it NSFW just in case)
As young Jorge realizes that he just stumbled onto two dead bodies, he makes his way to the nearest phone to call in the find. The local police and journalists tried to put the puzzle pieces together from what little evidence they had, only to come out scratching their heads. 45 years later the mystery known as the "lead masks case" is still riddled with theories such as suicide, murder and alien abduction.

Manoel Pereira da Cruz and Miguel José Viana were electrical engineers who made a living repairing televisions. As the story goes, the men lived in Campos dos Goytacazes. An area north of Rio de Janeiro. The two were good friends and were often seen working together. On August 17th, 1966, the men had mentioned to their relatives that they needed to buy some supplies for work and would be gone for the afternoon. The men then hopped on a bus heading to Niterói. Three hours and one hundred and sixty miles away. Three days later, on August 20th, Jorge stumbles onto the bodies of the two television repairmen.

Police and journalists make their way to the bodies only to find them in a severe state of decomposition. Immediately the investigators make note of what was found near the bodies. An empty bottle of water, a package containing two towels and a notebook with what is described as a cryptic note.

"16:30Hs be at the determined place. 18:30 swallow capsule after effect protect metals wait for mask signal."

I wonder what the detectives thought of when they read the cryptic note. Suicide? Maybe. But what about the lead masks? Murder then?

If Manoel Pereira and Miguel José were murdered, what was the purpose? Obviously money would be an objective, but I doubt both men had a lot of it. Could it be some form of cult-like suicide? No mention of any cult or religious activity has been pinned to the dead men by friends and relatives.

Who were they meeting at the arranged place? Were they meeting a person or hoping for an event? Was Vintem Hill the arranged place? We have no way of knowing. Then, there are the capsules. Most sources say toxicology turned up nothing because the organs were not preserved. Therefore, we do not know if the men took the capsules or what they contained. To be literal, we are not even sure if the notes refer to that day, though at least that seems likely. "Protect the metals" may refer to some metals they were meeting to get rid of. "Wait for mask signal" obviously means they were waiting for someone to tell them to put on their masks.

One explanation is that the men were meeting someone for a clandestine deal involving radioactive material. However, that would not explain the capsule mention, the towels or the jackets. Another explanation is that they were conducting an experiment, but there is no evidence of an experiment leading to their death, such as materials for said experiment. They may have been duped, murdered and dumped on the hill, though there was no evidence of violence or violent injuries. They also may have been waiting for an intergalactic ride.
forgetomori.comView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 4:21:01 AM  

ArcadianRefugee: Oh, and this is why we chose Sweet Hollow.


i grew up in huntington. north side off west neck rd.

my creepy suggestion is a drive into lloyd harbor and beyond the causeway into lloyd neck. even during the day.
 
2012-10-31 4:28:10 AM  

Le Roi en Jaune: Tweakers can be scary things.

So it's back in 2006, and I'm visiting my Uncle up around Stanislaus national forest. I'm not on 49, taking a side road. It's early evening. Anyways, I'd been driving a long long way (from the Bay Area), and I stopped for a pee break near a convenient grove.

I'm zipping up, and on a nearby hill I can make out a figure. Looks like a guy in light clothing, tshirt, jeans. He wasn't walking towards me. He was walking backwards. As in facing me, but moving in the other direction. Pretty fast and in a real jerky fashion. The speed of his movement was the weirdest thing- out on a hill, but moving like he had no fear of tripping even though he wasn't looking where he was going

I bolted back to the car and took off. I don't know what that man was on to make him move and act the way he was acting, and I don't have a lot of experience with high people, but he wasn't moving like people do.

People who are not in their right state of minds can be pretty scary. I stick to taking Hwy 120 when i go to see relatives now.


reminds me of that freaky scene of the ladykiller running away backwards in shogun assassin. great movie
 
2012-10-31 4:36:35 AM  
 
2012-10-31 4:45:08 AM  

wookiee cookie: ArcadianRefugee: Oh, and this is why we chose Sweet Hollow.

i grew up in huntington. north side off west neck rd.

my creepy suggestion is a drive into lloyd harbor and beyond the causeway into lloyd neck. even during the day.


Ever seen the "devil house" in Massapequa? My favorite thing about it was that it was so very, very "1313 Mockingbird Lane".

If you've never seen it, check out this Google Maps link of a typical, quiet suburban Long Island neighborhood. Then rotate the image so you can see the house "behind you" from your initial vantage.
 
2012-10-31 4:46:38 AM  
I've had plenty of experiences where I hear or feel things, but I have several weird things that I simply can't explain. All of these are true, some are not really that scary, but weird.

First, when I was a kid at my first year of summer camp, we slept in tents on platforms (kind of half cabin half tent). Anyway, one night I woke up in the middle of the night in pitch black darkness in the middle of the woods. I panicked and started crying and screaming as I fumbled my way back to my tent. I don't know how I got out there, it's a pretty steep drop from the platform and I have never sleepwalked in my life, but perhaps that's all it was. It was still one of the most terrifying moments of my life.

**************************************

I've always been a light sleeper, but one night when I was a kid I got into a horrendous fight with my parents. I don't even remember what it was about, but after our fight they went out for the night and I went to bed early. The next morning I went to open my bedroom door (which I locked), but I couldn't open it. I started to panic and banged on the door repeatedly. My dad ended up having to break open the door. Apparently they went to check on me when they got home the night before and I didn't respond. They had banged for hours and even tried to take the door off the hinges (which is why it wouldn't open). They went outside and looked through the blinds to see I was in there at least, but couldn't tell if I was moving. They didn't call the police only because they called the house and I answered the phone in my sleep I guess so they knew I was alive at least. I've always been a really light sleeper and have no recollection of any of this other than going to bed angry that night. Not exactly too weird for a heavy sleeper maybe but weird for me I guess.

*************************************

After my sister and I were both in college one weekend we stayed at my parents' apartment while they were out of town for the night. We both slept in separate bedrooms with the doors closed. Around 3am I started to hear banging in the kitchen. It was super loud. It sounded like someone was making a full on meal. It went on for what felt like forever until I finally opened the door to find out why my sister was cooking food in the middle of the night. There was no one out there. The kitchen was clean, no pots and pans were out, and my sister's door was closed. The next day she asks me "Why were you cooking in the middle of the night?"

************************************

I went to see 1408 in the theater. If you haven't seen it, essentially once the room closes behind you, this Carpenters song plays on the radio during the hour of horror. It's a really creepy movie if you haven't seen it. Anyway, I saw it in the theater and when we got home that night we heard music coming from upstairs. We go upstairs and the farking Carpenters are playing on the clock radio in our spare bedroom. We never used that clock radio. In all fairness it was a different song than the one in the movie, but still, it was creepy. I swear that this is 100% true.

**************************************
In that same house for about a year or so I used to get woken up constantly. It was like as soon as I'd fall asleep something would shake me awake. One night my husband and I got into a really big fight and he went to sleep in the spare bedroom. I ended up going into the room to apologize/talk, but I couldn't tell if he was awake. I stood in the doorway quietly saying his name. All of a sudden he jumps up screaming. I turned on the light and he was really scared in a way I've never seen before or since. He said he saw some weird wavy feathered floating thing above him. He saw me in the doorway, but there was this thing there between us that poofed when I turned on the lights. Anyway, a couple years later I started to hear a woman crying from time to time. I would also get the sensation that there was an earthquake happening quite often. And then I started to hear voices as soon as I'd start to fall asleep at night even though I wore earplugs to sleep. They would stop as soon as I sat up and then continue once I laid back down. We had a friend move in with us at some point and then he started to tell us that he was hearing a woman crying at night in his room. He was really freaked out by it. We never had these experiences after we moved.
 
2012-10-31 5:01:27 AM  
I saw Mitt Romney
 
2012-10-31 5:09:06 AM  
i saw your mommy and your mommy's dead
 
2012-10-31 5:12:36 AM  
True story. Excuse my English. My in-laws live in a huge house that used to be some sort of a fraternity. When I first met my wife she told me that she felt the place was haunted. Her best friend had house sat a couple of times and experienced some really creepy stuff. I really didn't believe any of it until I had two of the scariest experiences that I still can't explain.
Around 1999, my wife (girlfriend at the time), and her parents went to Italy for a month. I agreed to take care of the house and their dogs. I had my cousin come out and spend the weekend with me at the house. One night, my cousin and I decided to go bar hopping. Before heading out, I told my cousin I wanted to leave some of the lights on in the theater, which was on the second floor. At the same time, I left the kitchen light on, which was on the first floor, and all the other lights (Basement, 3rd floor) were turned off. As we were pulling out of the drive way, for some odd reason I stopped and pointed to my cousin that we had left some of the lights on along with the alarm system.
My cousin and I returned sometime after 2:00 A.M., and noticed as we were pulling into the driveway, that the lights in the theater were turned off, but the light in the basement was on. My cousin freaked out and refused to go inside. Knowing that I had turned on the alarm system, I wasn't afraid of any intruders, but just confused as to what might have happened. I went inside, the dogs were fine, and as I went into the basement to turn off the lights, I realized they were all in off position, and one of the lights was the kind where you pull the string. Can't explain it to this day.
Now the really scary experience. Again my in-laws were out of the country, but this time my wife and I decided to take care of the place as a favor to them. The house as mentioned above is huge, and almost has a museum like feel to it. Wooden floors, Paintings and antiques all over etc. So my wife and I are in bed reading when we hear this really loud laughter outside the house. We figure that it is college kids walking back from some party since the place is pretty much 5 minutes from the University of Michigan. But I realize that for us to hear any sound, the kids would have to be on the premises, and if that is the case the perimeter lights should have turned on. I look out the window nothing. I get back in bed and start reading when we hear some footsteps coming up the stairs. My wife starts freaking out and I tell her that the alarm is on and not to worry. The sound of the steps starts moving towards the room where we were and by this time I am freaking out. Our dog (Lab and Shepherd mix) was sleeping on his bed by the foot of the bed. He wakes up and starts growling. My wife actually starts crying, and I am screaming "who's there?" The dog jumps on our bed (was never allowed on the bed) and starts showing his teeth. Our bedroom door opens up slowly, and that's where I was like WTF. The door shuts back up and nothing. The dog literally has cowered down. No explanation. Never took care of that house again. In-laws laugh it off when we bring it up. They have never experienced anything.
 
2012-10-31 5:15:14 AM  
About 10 years ago, my boyfriend bought a house and we moved in with our four children (one was mine and three was his). It was a very nice house and it I was so happy that it was ours and I worked hard to make it nice for everyone. After a little while, the kids started telling me of strange noises and stuff but I would just tell them it was their imagination. I started hearing things like footsteps running in the house and down the stairs when I would be on the lower level - I would go upstairs to fuss at them for running through the house and I would still be alone. I also heard steps coming down the hallway several times and everyone was still in bed when I went to fuss at them. The kids were always talking about stuff being moved around and hearing footsteps, too when no one else was in the house. Sometimes, I would see, out of the corner of my eye, a dark shadow going down a separate hall and into the stairwell leading down to the lower level. It would disappear when I would turn my head.

I was really happy when we moved in but within about 6 months, I became so overwhelmingly depressed that I had to start taking antidepressants. I basically cut myself off from my friends for quite awhile and was just morose. I just felt so sad and I really could not explain why. It was really strange...

My daughter was about 15 when we moved in - she was always complaining about hearing a music box playing although I never heard it. I looked at our neighbor's houses for a wind chime but neither house had one out that I could see.

The kids and I always joked about our "ghost" but really just assumed there was an explanation for it all that I had not figured out yet. One night, my neighbor (who had lived there for 20 years and knew the family that moved out well) told me that the former owner's 16 year old son had gotten upset when his girlfriend had broken up with him and went out on the lower level patio and shot himself in the head. She also remarked that my daughter looked alot like the girlfriend - so much so that she thought it might be her younger sister when she first met us. The son's bedroom was in the lower level and he always spent alot of time down there in the den.

I don't know what was going on but the noises and stuff died down quite a bit after she left for college. The people who built the house we bought moved down the street and we became friends but I never told them about what happened since it was so tragic what happened to the son. My boyfriend and I broke up about a year after I found out what had happened so I don't know if anything has happened to the new owners.
 
2012-10-31 5:16:10 AM  
Growing up in my parent's house, they left me alone for two weeks while they went on vacation in Florida. Everything is normal the first week. Had a little party, had fun. No worries. Just me and my beagle. At the beginning of the second week my dog and I are in my room in the basement. The hallway to my room has these long decorative beads covering it. You can hear anyone coming in, even if they are being sneaky. The beads will rattle. So the mutt and I are watching TV and all of a sudden his hair stands up and he starts flipping out at something at the open doorway. I've never seen him this upset. He dives under the bed and I hear the beads going crazy like someone has wrapped themselves up in them and is thrashing back and forth. I grab one of my dad's guns out of the closet and get to the hallway to see the beads still moving with some strong momentum. Then I hear a giant thud from further in the basement. I go out through the beads and see that the pool table has just been moved completely sideways, cue ball still rolling. This is a pretty big marble table that I would guestimate weighs around 500 lbs. Then I hear someone scream "NOOOOOOO" in a very deep voice from upstairs and the loud thudding of footsteps back and forth. I start to go upstairs, gun in hand and halfway up the stairs a voice in my head said "do NOT go upstairs". I went back to my room, dog still hiding under the bed, locked the door and sat there all night gun in hand until the sun came up.

When I got up the next morning, all the doors upstairs were still locked from the inside and nothing upstairs had fallen or been disturbed. Unless my parents came home 5 days early, decided to fark with me, lock the doors behind them and drive back to Florida in 5 hours (from IL), I can't explain what happened that night. I even thought earthquake for a bit until I talked to all my neighbors/friends who felt nothing. Especially nothing that could toss around a 500lb pool table without me feeling anything in the other room.

Nothing has happened since. I bought the house from my folks and it's been quiet, although I still occasionally suffer from a night terror/sleep paralysis bout.
 
2012-10-31 5:38:17 AM  
He walked into the bathroom and gagged. The room was spotless yet the odor nearly took him to his knees. He tried to breathe through his mouth and became more dizzy than nauseous, as if he were being deprived of oxygen. Trying to catch a breath 10 steps ahead of him. And he pulled back the shower curtain and it was KELLY CLARKSON!!!!! The smell of feces still stung his nostrils. So acrid that he thought "no human being could have done this! 5 humans couldn't have done this!" but then, where was the evidence of her inhuman activity.......? His eyes rolled downward to the shower drain with a feeling of soul crushing dread...........BEEF!!!
 
2012-10-31 5:47:26 AM  

baka-san: On March 31st of this year I was in San Angelo TX

GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

DUN
DUN
DUUUUUUNNNN!!!!


Oh, my God, that poor woman!
 
2012-10-31 5:48:52 AM  

MagSeven: He walked into the bathroom and gagged. The room was spotless yet the odor nearly took him to his knees. He tried to breathe through his mouth and became more dizzy than nauseous, as if he were being deprived of oxygen. Trying to catch a breath 10 steps ahead of him. And he pulled back the shower curtain and it was KELLY CLARKSON!!!!! The smell of feces still stung his nostrils. So acrid that he thought "no human being could have done this! 5 humans couldn't have done this!" but then, where was the evidence of her inhuman activity.......? His eyes rolled downward to the shower drain with a feeling of soul crushing dread...........BEEF!!!


I was about to say, its not even 6am ET, and the thread is already much better than last year's. Then I saw your post.

Why can't we have nice things.
 
2012-10-31 5:51:26 AM  
Not scary for me, but it certainly was for my traveling companions:

A group of four of us girls made a trip to Eureka Springs, Arkansas. We decided to stay at a "haunted" hotel there, that was quite old. Very Victorian era with antique furniture and the lot. We get a large room with french doors onto a balcony. Later in the evening we hear a group of people outside our door. Looking through the peephole we discover a tour group being informed that this is one of the haunted rooms. I couldn't resist and sort of through my weight against the door, and it causes muffled screams and laughter from the tour group. We all kind of heard what the tour guide was saying, about some awful death scene in the room or something.

At any rate, after an uneventful night, I wake early and slip out of bed to go onto the balcony to have a smoke. It is foggy and chilly out, so I grab a blanket off the end of the bed and wrap myself in it. As I reenter from the balcony, I hear the most blood curdling scream coming from the other side of the room. I freeze dead in my tracks and try to make out just what is going on, but it is dark. Everyone is jumping out of bed from a dead sleep and I am standing like a statue trying to figure out what is going on. More screams. But they are looking at ME and screaming. I finally yell "What's wrong, what is it?"

The screaming stops immediately and laughter starts. I guess, in the half light of the morning, with the fog whisping behind me, and wrapped in the blanket ... well, you guessed it: I had become the ghost of the haunted room.

I really need to give up smoking. It scares the shiat out my friends.
 
2012-10-31 5:52:02 AM  

atomsmoosher: MagSeven: He walked into the bathroom and gagged. The room was spotless yet the odor nearly took him to his knees. He tried to breathe through his mouth and became more dizzy than nauseous, as if he were being deprived of oxygen. Trying to catch a breath 10 steps ahead of him. And he pulled back the shower curtain and it was KELLY CLARKSON!!!!! The smell of feces still stung his nostrils. So acrid that he thought "no human being could have done this! 5 humans couldn't have done this!" but then, where was the evidence of her inhuman activity.......? His eyes rolled downward to the shower drain with a feeling of soul crushing dread...........BEEF!!!

I was about to say, its not even 6am ET, and the thread is already much better than last year's. Then I saw your post.

Why can't we have nice things.


Sorry. I hate that inexplicable meme too, but I'm drunk and have that "drunken creativity" that never seems all that creative the morning after. All apologies! At least I'm not drunk texting exes!
 
2012-10-31 6:01:13 AM  
Here's my contribution from a close friend, who says it's true. Apologies in advance if I use the wrong terminology, since I was never in the military.

Anyway, my friend works at the Naval Shipyards in Bremerton, WA. They happened to have a ship in port that they were in the process of dismantling and were taking everything off of the ship that could be recycled. My friend was part of a three man crew working the graveyard shift and were supposed to be the only people on the ship at that time. After boarding the ship and working their way down below deck, my friend and one of the other guys realized that they had left some needed equipment back in their vehicle. Leaving the third guy behind, they went back to get what they needed and returned to where they had left the other worker, who was sitting motionless, staring hard at a hatchway about 30 feet away from them. When he realized that my friend and the other worker were back, he jumped up and raced towards the hatch and began searching for somebody. When my friend asked him what was up, the guy told my friend that he had seen somebody dressed in early 90's naval shipwear walk right in front of the hatch and stop, turn to look at him for a few seconds, then move out of sight.

My friend and the other guy thought the third guy was trying to play a joke on them and started to rib him a little, but the guy kept insisting on what he had seen to the point that my friend and his co-worker started to think that maybe it wasn't a joke. After a few hours, they wrapped up their work and left the ship. After putting away their equipment, the guy that had seen the figure went up to the watchman who was guarding the boarding ramp to the ship and asked who else was on board at the time. The watchman replied that my friend's group were the only ones that had come aboard the ship since the last group had left a few hours before. My friend's co-worker objected, saying that somebody else was on the ship and told the watchman what had happened. The watchman repeated that he had been there since early in the evening and that nobody but my friends group and the previous group had been aboard. As my friends co-worker walked away, the guard called out to him, "You know, you're not the first person to see somebody on that ship that wasn't supposed to be there".
 
2012-10-31 6:01:31 AM  
When I was 8 years old, my family moved into a house that had been previously owned (and abandoned) by a funeral director. It is an amazing house - very old with all the features an upper middle class family of the late 1800's could afford to make it a "jewel" in that small community. Over the years, previous occupants made changes to both the exterior and interior of the home; a staircase which lead from the second floor to the servant's quarters on the third floor was boarded up and a closet built over it; an area in the basement was enclosed with a lock on the door.

There's no One Story to tell about the house, nor did things happen to just one or two people. It was a continuous series of events that stretched over a 20 year period - and may still occur - until my father died and my sister and I sold the home.

It began with little things; hearing one's name being called when there was no one in the house, water turning on and off, the sound of footsteps on the third floor. Then there were "white mists" that seemed to float up the stairs that had enough bulk that you couldn't see the wall behind it. Once, when my mother and I were sitting watching TV, my glass flew off the table and across the room - about 15 feet. Lights would turn on and off, things would just fall from the air ( usually - of all things - hair pins). Toys and books, which had been on shelves or in baskets, would be on the floor arranged in patterns. A few notes would be played on the piano (and later, when my great niece was staying over, her the sound of flute music could be heard playing upstairs one night - the flute was found on the staircase going to the old servant's quarters on the third floor).

When my father died, my sister and I would check on the house several times a week. One night, my daughter, her boyfriend and I were passing by and I noticed lights were on in the basement. We stopped, all three of us went to the basement to turn the lights off,, When we went outside, the lights were on - again. The outside lights over the porches also came on - although they were not motion sensitive and could only be turned on/off from the inside.

Lots of weird stuff, but you get the picture.
 
2012-10-31 6:03:40 AM  

Fifi Le Pew: Not scary for me, but it certainly was for my traveling companions:

A group of four of us girls made a trip to Eureka Springs, Arkansas. We decided to stay at a "haunted" hotel there, that was quite old. Very Victorian era with antique furniture and the lot. We get a large room with french doors onto a balcony. Later in the evening we hear a group of people outside our door. Looking through the peephole we discover a tour group being informed that this is one of the haunted rooms. I couldn't resist and sort of through my weight against the door, and it causes muffled screams and laughter from the tour group. We all kind of heard what the tour guide was saying, about some awful death scene in the room or something.

At any rate, after an uneventful night, I wake early and slip out of bed to go onto the balcony to have a smoke. It is foggy and chilly out, so I grab a blanket off the end of the bed and wrap myself in it. As I reenter from the balcony, I hear the most blood curdling scream coming from the other side of the room. I freeze dead in my tracks and try to make out just what is going on, but it is dark. Everyone is jumping out of bed from a dead sleep and I am standing like a statue trying to figure out what is going on. More screams. But they are looking at ME and screaming. I finally yell "What's wrong, what is it?"

The screaming stops immediately and laughter starts. I guess, in the half light of the morning, with the fog whisping behind me, and wrapped in the blanket ... well, you guessed it: I had become the ghost of the haunted room.

I really need to give up smoking. It scares the shiat out my friends.


lulz
 
2012-10-31 6:30:42 AM  

Bathia_Mapes: Fifi Le Pew: Not scary for me, but it certainly was for my traveling companions

lulz


If anyone is interested, this was at the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs. They pride themselves on being "America's Most Haunted Hotel". I'd say my roommates got their money's worth.
 
2012-10-31 6:31:39 AM  
img217.imageshack.usView Full Size


Got nuthin'
 
Ab3
2012-10-31 6:58:03 AM  
The Ma That Ate Newborns
_________________________________________

Don't squirm so much my wee one. Don't struggle. Let me hold you close while I work up my nerve. Only a day old and you're fighting to live, well so am I. Isn't that what we all want in the end? Life, a warm place to sleep and a full belly. Well, that's what you've got and what do I have? Nothing I'm just a middle aged man, used up and waiting to die.

Just like you, not that you realize what's coming next of course.
Then again maybe you do understand, you may be blind and confused but maybe you do know somehow. Is that why you keep trying to get free?

This is all because of Eve. We had known each other since college. She was already halfway towards becoming a lawyer and I was a well respected graduate student. You should have seen her. She was so damn beautiful with creamy skin- just like yours. I first saw her in the college library, I was so smitten that I followed her home. Just to see if she was married or living with a boyfriend or something like that. I spent the next few days tracking her, learning whatever I could and once I was sure I knew enough to pass for her soulmate I made my move.
I played my cards just right and won her heart. It was a whirlwind romance, the kind of thing you'll never know my wee one. Maybe that's just as well, maybe if you could you'd thank me for sparing you the heartbreak.

Even now I don't know what went wrong. Was I too agreeable? Too clingy? It doesn't matter. She found someone else. The breakup was an ugly thing, uglier than you my wee one.

She tried to be gentle, she told me we could still be friends. I was so angry, I said terrible things but in the end I took her up on the offer of friendship and hoped she might come to her senses.

I'll never understand women. They're called the fairer sex but everything they do is unfair. How is it time and time again they're drawn to the wrong men? Why couldn't she see that her new boyfriend was all wrong for her? And why for God's sake did she marry him.

Now don't get me wrong, I tried to move on. There were other towns, other girls and no matter how much I learned about them before I made my move I never got as far as I had with Eve.

Was that why I kept coming back to my home town? Was that why I stayed her friend even though the sight of that ring on her finger left my skull pounding with rage?

Calm down now my wee one. I might drop you if you keep struggling so. Is that what you want?

I stayed her friend, I prayed for her to divorce but then it got worse. They were tears of joy in her eyes when she told me she was pregnant. I smiled at the news but in the back of my mind I was calling her a biatch. She never cried for me but she had a fountain of tears for a baby that wasn't even born yet. A baby that at this point was just a lump of cells no better than a tumor.

Some say life begins at conception but I don't think it begins until you have your first real thought. Until then your just a thing that eats and crawls mindlessly.

It was during her final trimester that I decided something radical needed to be done. I would steal her little baby and I would keep it away until she promised to leave her husband and love me forever.

We would raise the child together. Even though it was another man's I would raise it as my own.

Thanks to things like email and her husband's Facebook page I knew when Eve started to go into labor. I waited about twenty-four hours, and then made my move.

As always I had done my homework, I knew the hospital's routine. I went at night, wearing stolen scrubs and an official-looking ID badge.

I made my way to the nursery convinced that no suspicious eyes would turn my way. I suppose love blinded me in that respect. I barely had the baby in my arms before someone raised an alarm. Escape wasn't easy but I managed to get out of the building. Then I found myself in the middle of a car chase. I knew I could evade the police if I made it to the state park and drove with my headlights off.

The crash was a directionless blur, I thought I was running parallel to the ravine but I ended up careening right into it.

Now here I am, pinned in my car with broken bones poking through the flesh of my legs. I had dared everything and I came away empty handed. Doubtlessly Eve and her husband are cooing over their baby and cursing me for what I had tried to do.

I'm not sure why no one has found me yet, I mean they must be looking but it's been two days and I'm still waiting alone.

Well, I was waiting alone until you came along. The flies must have laid you while I was drifting in and out of consciousness but now my wounded legs are crawling with maggots.

This isn't cruelty, it's just that I'm so hungry and you're all I have. I'm going to eat you first and then once I've gotten the taste for it your brothers and sisters will be joining you by the handful.

I'm going to live through this, and somehow I'm going to get my Eve back.
Somehow. Somehow I'll do it.

Just don't squirm so much my wee one. Don't struggle.
 
2012-10-31 6:59:02 AM  

SamFlagg: [img217.imageshack.us image 650x1439]

Got nuthin'


Super bonus points that they got the lyrics to Convoy correct.
 
2012-10-31 7:01:22 AM  
When I was in junior high, my parents moved to a small town into a house that was in the middle of the woods. The closest house was a few miles away, and nobody lived there. I got pretty used to the isolation, and it never really bothered me.

I was in high school when this happened. The incident itself was creepy, but the events leading up to it made it even more unexplainable and frightening to me. My dad had developed a love for rocks around this time. He loved finding unique rocks and had amassed quite a collection. They were worthless, but he enjoyed it. Most of the rocks he acquired because they were pretty, but he also had some rocks that just looked odd, and so he kept them. He had developed a penchant for rocks that looked like faces.

One day, he was clearing some weeds from the creek behind our house. He found a rock that looked like a miniature skull. It had two "eye sockets," a hole where a nose would be, and a missing chunk that really did look like it could be a mouth.

My mother was instantly creeped out by the rock and told him not to keep it in the house. He told her he'd get rid of it.

The next afternoon, my mother was home alone, standing in the kitchen which faced the back yard and the creek. She was staring out one of the windows when she thought she saw a man standing out in the back yard on the edge of the woods. (There was no fence, just a large back yard which was surrounded by the creek & the woods.) He was looking towards the house. She obviously got really nervous and moved to another window to get a closer look. By the time she got to that window, there was now a woman standing by him. Which was odd, because there wouldn't have been enough time for someone to walk up and stand by him. It took all of five seconds to get to the other window.
Realizing that, my mom started to wonder if they were really there or if it was a mirage of some sort. She moved back to the other window (another five seconds) and could no longer see anyone, so she chalked it up to being tired and seeing things, and went off to take a nap. That night, however, she started to feel really nervous about the whole thing, and being extremely superstitious, she asked my dad if he had gotten rid of that rock. He admitted it was in the basement, and she freaked and demanded he throw it out.

The following afternoon was when my incident occurred. I had gotten off of the school bus and went inside. My parents were gone. I had plans that evening so I went into the hall bathroom to put on my makeup and whatnot. While in there, I heard a loud crash coming from my parents room, which was across the hall and two doors down.
I froze. I knew I was home alone, and there was nothing in my parents' room that I knew of that could have fallen and made that noise.

Then I heard it. Step, draaaag. Step, draaaag.

It sounded as if someone (or something) had entered the house through my parents' room and had injured itself, and was now dragging its hurt leg as it walked. Or maybe somebody was walking & dragging something very heavy. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn't supposed to be in the house. I quietly shut and locked the bathroom door and began to panic. This was before the days of cell phones, and we didn't have a phone in the bathroom. I had no way of calling for help.

I was alone, in the middle of the woods, with this person or thing that should not be in my home.

Step, draaag. Step, draaag.

It continued, and it was getting closer.

There was a window in the bathroom, but I was scared to try to open it, because I didn't want whoever it was to know I was in there.

Step, draaag. Step, draaag. It was almost to the door. I crawled into the shower and cowered down, silently crying. I had never been so scared in all of my life.

Whatever it was, it was right outside the bathroom door now. Suddenly, I heard the crunching of gravel. I stood up and looked out of the window. My parents were home! I didn't hesitate to open the window now, and screamed out "SOMEONE IS IN THE HOUSE!"

My dad bolted into the front door. I didn't hear anymore footsteps or dragging. My dad came to the bathroom door, and I opened it and ran outside to my mother. My dad never found anyone in the house, and we never saw anyone leave it.

I explained to my parents what had happened. My mom, ever so paranoid, yelled at my dad, asking if he got rid of the skull rock. He said it was still in the basement. She made him go get it and throw it back into the creek.

Nothing weird ever happened after that.

I don't know if the strange rock had ANYTHING to do with what happened. Maybe my mom really did see two people standing outside looking in, and maybe someone did break into the house and somehow got away before my dad got inside - but why didn't I hear them leaving, when I could hear them limping through the house so clearly before?

Whatever the reason, my dad had to stop collecting rocks.
 
2012-10-31 7:07:01 AM  
Back when I lived in Boise, ID, a friend of mine and I were both rabid insomniacs and would spend countless nights tearing his Jeep through the mountains just outside of the city.

One night we decided to take another one of our late night excursions into Rocky Canyon with his girlfriend and my wife. It was uneventful for the first hour or so, but then we came across a collapsed cabin. It was in a clearing at the peak of one of the higher mountains. Just a regular road, you turn a corner and there's a huge clearing with a giant pile of what used to be a cabin. We started exploring the wreckage and doing the typical splitting off as various things caught our eye. We were incredibly excited by our various finds; old timey photos and 50s-era cooking ware and the like.

My wife first noticed the rustling in the bushes just beyond the clearing. She did one of those slight inward gasps. Now, my wife is pretty easily spooked and she really shuts down when she's scared enough. Most people have a fight-or-flight response? She has a curl-up-and-accept-the-inevitable response. She was clearly uneasy so I took her back to the Jeep before I had to carry her. While I was there, my friend asked for a flashlight from his glove box. I told my wife that I would be right back to her and grabbed the flashlight. While I turned the flashlight on and headed toward my friend, he started calling out to where the rustling came from. We could clearly see the shape, almost like a shadow, of a person in the distance.

"Hey," he shouted, "is this private property? We didn't see any signs. Sorry if we're trespassing. We'll leave if..." he trailed off. I had shined the flashlight on the shape. It was gone where the light was. I directed the light away again. The shape was still there.

My friend had me shine the light back on the shape. Same thing. When I turned the light away, it was gone.

The three of us stayed where we were for a long moment, not really acknowledging the occurrence. Just stunned silence. After what felt like a full few minutes of looking around and trying to figure out where the shape went, we decided to leave in the same way you would if you just got bored with a particular exhibit in the zoo. We weren't really willing to admit that we were scared shiatless.

We quickly piled back into the Jeep with my wife, who wasn't hiding her fear well. I was sitting in the back passenger seat of this '67 Jeep Wagoneer, over on the right side. The window was down and I decided to have a cigarette. I lit up as my friend started the truck and we started back out around the corner. As I blew out my drag, I turned my head out the window. The moonlight shone through the clearing so brightly that I had full view of the fallen cabin and everything around it. I could especially see right in front of me. That's why is made me jump out of my skin when *BAM* there was a huge slam into my door. Thing is, there was nothing there. Not next to, below, or above us. Not, "I couldn't see anything," but there was nothing. The hit was hard enough that it rattled the window glass inside the door. My arm was resting in the window and the hit was so hard that it nearly rattled the cigarette out of my hand. It was also all my friend needed to finally drop the bullshiat facade of machismo and slam on the gas. He was in a panic, asking over and over if I did that, and me repeating the the negative.

We got the fark out of there.

For any Boise Farkers, the 7-11 at the corner of Broadway and East Warm Springs (I think it's a Jacksons now) was a great place to stop when coming down from Shaw Mountain Road. We stopped after having barely spoken the whole way back into the city. When we got out, the first thing we looked at was my door. The roads are all loose powdered dirt around the summer, making it incredibly easy for markings to be left behind. There was one group of marks in the dirt: four long ovals with markings that betrayed the obvious placement of knuckles. It was the right jab imprint of a hand that was easily twice the size of any of our hands. Even discounting the size, the placement meant there was no way that any of us could possibly have made that mark.

We never really spoke about it after. We still went up into the mountains, but we made sure we never went anywhere near that cabin again.
 
2012-10-31 7:18:52 AM  

tripleseven: OK, I'll give you these. From the house I grew up in.

At which point I heard my GF scream. I walked back to the room,..

My sister..screamed bloody murder, so badly, that my other brother downstairs heard the screams screamed up to her to her what was wrong... he went back to sleep.


You and your family have a very subdued reaction to screaming.
 
2012-10-31 7:22:11 AM  
users.content.ytmnd.comView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 7:24:50 AM  
My idiot friend told me a story once, and it has always creeped me out.

"Once there was an Ugly Barnacle. He was so ugly, that everyone died! The End."
 
2012-10-31 7:29:13 AM  
...he clicked "Add Comment" but he was in the Politics tab
 
2012-10-31 7:36:34 AM  

Wolf892: potato_chip_eating_geek: Wolf892: I was 15 years old and it was the first summer where my parents decided to take a weeklong vacation to visit my grandmother. This was great for me for two reasons, the first, I was allowed to stay home alone for the week, and the second, my mother had left me a 4 gallon tub of bubblegum ice-cream that she had told me to go wild on.
I stayed awake every night late, watching Japanese anime, drinking root-beer and eating the heck out of that bubble gum ice cream. I was in 15 year old boy Heaven.
On the second to last night of the week everything was going the same. It was three o clock in the morning when I finally finished the last episode of "bubblegum crisis" (which I'd loved watching while eating bubblegum ice-cream) and decided it was time to go downstairs to bed.
So I did.
I'm not sure what time it was when I woke up, my room was dark, I was laying in bed facing my wall and I could tell that if I didn't get out of bed my bladder was going to burst.
As I started to turn over in my bed so that I could climb out, something happened that to this day (34 years old now) I'll never forget.
From right beside my head, almost like a breath away from my ear I heard as clear as day a voice. The voice was strange though because it was devoid of all inflection, all tone, all emotion. It only spoke three words to me...
"Don't turn around"
That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."

did you hear anybody move afterwards? like soneone leaving?

Nope, nothing at all. I stayed awake too, but nothing but those three words, clear as a bell. Like a speak and spell but with no inflection, like a robot or machine maybe...


Was it a recording of Der Kommissar?
 
2012-10-31 7:37:46 AM  
11 more years till Honey Boo Boo poses for Playboy. The End.
 
2012-10-31 7:39:55 AM  
we were about 8 years old and a classmate in town died. one of the kid's had a older sibling that had a oujia board. we kinda didn't understand it all but we got it out and about 8 of us used it in a group. it started to spell out messages and kids started to scream or say they felt something bump them. sure it was part being paranoid and the other half people in the group tricking us but when someone is freaking out and the person next to them saying they didn't brush their leg it can frighten a kid. that event stuck with me for a year or 2.
 
2012-10-31 7:40:11 AM  

potato_chip_eating_geek: Wolf892


I was wondering if his ass hurt.
 
2012-10-31 7:47:03 AM  
...and when he woke up in the morning she was still in his bed!!
...and then she wanted to make him eggs!!
...and then he said "but I don't have time I have a meeting at 12:30" and she said "That's ok, I'll drive you there!"
...and he said "no, no, it's at my office, it's like a 1.2 hour commute!" and she said "I don't mind it's on the way to my kids preschool!"
 
2012-10-31 7:53:11 AM  

farkerintx: True story, this happened to me, about 20 years ago.

I was about 18, a girl I knew in college introduced me to Ouija board one night, it was your store-bought parker bros. version...we played with it, it wasn't that weird because everyone was suspicious of each other about who was moving the planchette. Just a TOY I thought...but interesting at the least. Maybe even a little spooky.

I did a little reading and found out that if you make your own, it's more powerful, better connection to the spirit world, blah blah blah, I wasn't taking this thing seriously, but I was excited by the creepy factor, and how many other people DID take it seriously.

So, one night in October (couple of weeks before Halloween) I called an old girlfriend, "Jenny", and we got to talking (We were reduced to good friends at the time. She was dating some guy named "Patrick" and I had other girls on my mind). We were both a bit bored, so I invited her over. I was living in the apartment above my parents garage, it wasn't much, but it was my "own" place. I told her about my new found knowledge and said I'd make a ouija board to keep us entertained. She was reluctant, but I assured her it was "just a toy" and parker brothers makes these things. "Nothing to worry about, it can't hurt you, it'll be fun"

She had a 20 mile span to cover so I had some time. The board was easy to make, just a piece of 18" x 24" drywall, and I drew the letters and symbols on it with a sharpie. To make the planchette I cut a corner off a pine board and drilled a hole in the middle. Oila~ we had board and were ready to contact Elvis.

A couple of things i told her that I read about these things...(from the box in the store or a movie, I don't know.)

Don't take your hands off the board once you've started. If you do, you could open a "door"
Don't stop the "session" without saying "goodbye", if you do, you could open a "door"
Spirits Lie, can't spell, don't use it alone, and don't burn it near your house.

Now, on to the ...


I believe you. Creepy stuff.

Ouija boards are NOT toys and now you know.
 
2012-10-31 7:56:10 AM  
My wife spent part of her internship in Murray, KY. She rented an apartment, sight unseen, before she got there. She told me the old lady that owned the place and showed her around was really nice but, for some reason, completely missed out one room during the viewing. My wife thought nothing of it and, once the old lady had gone, she looked in that room. Nothing special, a bedroom w/ ensuite bathroom.

She said the only semi-freaky thing that happened the whole time was that one of the chairs in that room had moved. She got home and found it was blocking the access to the ensuite when she knew it was tucked in under the dresser the last time she was in there.

My wife isn't the sort of person who picks up on these sorts of things so it wasn't until she got back home after her internship that both her parents, brother and friend, independently, told her what had happened when they were staying with her there when visiting. Her dad was literally hopping around saying 'Can I tell her? Can I tell her?

Anyways, turns out her mom was sleeping on the sofa in the living room and couldn't sleep properly the whole time she was there because she kept hearing someone whispering into her ear. Her friend, standing outside, saw someone at the window and thought it was my wife's brother, but he was already in the car. My wife's dad claims he heard a fairly loud conversation (but not shouting) in the room that wasn't used.

It freaked my wife out totally, even though she was back home. A couple of years later we went down there and stopped outside. It looked kinda spooky but really was just an old, dirty, house. It does, though, still give her the chills to think about the place, especially the 'figure' that her friend saw.

/ssb
 
2012-10-31 8:00:30 AM  

BuckTurgidson: Turn your lights out.

dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum...

The chicken heart was kept alive in a laboratory in a vat. In a special solution: half blood, half sodium salicylate. ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
One day, a careless janitor knocked the vat over *crash* dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
He went to get a rag to clean it up. ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
The chicken heart grew ... dum-dum ... dum-dum....
Six foot, five inches. And in search of human blood! ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ... dum-dum ...
The janitor came back, opened the door, got on the floor... dum-dum... dum-dum...

Everybody...


Walked...
 
2012-10-31 8:01:26 AM  
There once was a man who lived in Leeds
he filled his garden full of seeds
and when the seeds began to grow
it was like a garden filled with snow
and when the snow began to melt
it was like a ship without a belt
and when the ship began to sail
it was like a bird with out a tail
and when that bird began to fly
it was like an eagle in the sky
and when the sky began to roar
it was like a lion at my door
and when the door began to crack
it was like a pen knife in my back
and when my back began to bleed...
i was Dead, Dead, Dead Indeed.
 
2012-10-31 8:03:14 AM  

Yuri Futanari: This ones a little long but I first read it in one of the previous Fark years Halloween threads and really liked it.

----------------

Russian researchers in the late 1940s kept five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas based stimulant. They were kept in a sealed environment to carefully monitor their oxygen intake so the gas didn't kill them, since it was toxic in high concentrations. This was before closed circuit cameras so they had only microphones and 5 inch thick glass porthole sized windows into the chamber to monitor them. The chamber was stocked with books, cots to sleep on but no bedding, running water and toilet, and enough dried food to last all five for over a month.
The test subjects were political prisoners deemed enemies of the state during World War II.

Everything was fine for the first five days; the subjects hardly complained having been promised (falsely) that they would be freed if they submitted to the test and did not sleep for 30 days. Their conversations and activities were monitored and it was noted that they continued to talk about increasingly traumatic incidents in their past, and the general tone of their conversations took on a darker aspect after the 4 day mark.
After five days they started to complain about the circumstances and events that lead them to where they were and started to demonstrate severe paranoia. They stopped talking to each other and began alternately whispering to the microphones and one way mirrored portholes. Oddly they all seemed to think they could win the trust of the experimenters by turning over their comrades, the other subjects in captivity with them. At first the researchers suspected this was an effect of the gas itself...
After nine days the first of them started screaming. He ran the length of the chamber repeatedly yelling at the top of his lungs for 3 hours straight, he continued attempting to scream but was only able to produce occasional squeaks. The researchers postulated that he had physically torn his vocal cords. The most surprising thing about this behavior is how the other captives reacted to it... or rather didn't react to it. They continued whispering to the microphones until the second of the captives started to scream. The 2 non-screaming captives took the books apart, smeared page after page with their own feces and pasted them calmly over the glass portholes. The screaming promptly stopped.

So did the whispering to the microphones.

After 3 more days passed. The researchers checked the microphones hourly to make sure they were working, since they thought it impossible that no sound could be coming with 5 people inside. The oxygen consumption in the chamber indicated that all 5 must still be alive. In fact it was the amount of oxygen 5 people would consume at a very heavy level of strenuous exercise. On the morning of the 14th day the researchers did something they said they would not do to get a reaction from the captives, they used the intercom inside the chamber, hoping to provoke any response from the captives they were afraid were either dead or vegetables.

They announced: "We are opening the chamber to test the microphones step away from the door and lie flat on the floor or you will be shot. Compliance will earn one of you your immediate freedom."

To their surprise they heard a single phrase in a calm voice response: "We no longer want to be freed."

Debate broke out among the researchers and the military forces funding the research. Unable to provoke any more response using the intercom it was finally decided to open the chamber at midnight on the fifteenth day.

The chamber was flushed of the stimulant gas and filled with fresh air and immediately voices from the microphones began to object. 3 different voices began begging, as if pleading for the life of loved ones to turn the gas back on. The chamber was opened and soldiers sent in to retrieve the test subjects. They began to scream louder than ever, and so did the soldiers when they saw what was inside. Four of the five subjects were still alive, although no one could rightly call the state that any of them in 'life.'

The food rations past day 5 had not been so much as touched. There were chunks of meat from the dead test subject's thighs and chest stuffed into the drain in the center of the chamber, blocking the drain and allowing 4 inches of water to accumulate on the floor. Precisely how much of the water on the floor was actually blood was never determined. All four 'surviving' test subjects also had large portions of muscle and skin torn away from their bodies. The destruction of flesh and exposed bone on their finger tips indicated that the wounds were inflicted by hand, not with teeth as the researchers initially thought. Closer examination of the position and angles of the wounds indicated that most if not all of them were self-inflicted.

The abdominal organs below the ribcage of all four test subjects had been removed. While the heart, lungs and diaphragm remained in place, the skin and most of the muscles attached to the ribs had been ripped off, exposing the lungs through the ribcage. All the blood vessels and organs remained intact, they had just been taken out and laid on the floor, fanning out around the eviscerated but still living bodies of the subjects. The digestive tract of all four could be seen to be working, digesting food. It quickly became apparent that what they were digesting was their own flesh that they had ripped off and eaten over the course of days.

Most of the soldiers were Russian special operatives at the facility, but still many refused to return to the chamber to remove the test subjects. They continued to scream to be left in the chamber and alternately begged and demanded that the gas be turned back on, lest they fall asleep...

To everyone's surprise the test subjects put up a fierce fight in the process of being removed from the chamber. One of the Russian soldiers died from having his throat ripped out, another was gravely injured by having his testicles ripped off and an artery in his leg severed by one of the subject's teeth. Another 5 of the soldiers lost their lives if you count ones that committed suicide in the weeks following the incident.

In the struggle one of the four living subjects had his spleen ruptured and he bled out almost immediately. The medical researchers attempted to sedate him but this proved impossible. He was injected with more than ten times the human dose of a morphine derivative and still fought like a cornered animal, breaking the ribs and arm of one doctor. When heart was seen to beat for a full two minutes after he had bled out to the point there was more air in his vascular system than blood. Even after it stopped he continued to scream and flail for another 3 minutes, struggling to attack anyone in reach and just repeating the word "MORE" over and over, weaker and weaker, until he finally fell silent.

The surviving three test subjects were heavily restrained and moved to a medical facility, the two with intact vocal cords continuously begging for the gas demanding to be kept awake...

The most injured of the three was taken to the only surgical operating room that the facility had. In the process of preparing the subject to have his organs placed back within his body it was found that he was effectively immune to the sedative they had given him to prepare him for the surgery. He fought furiously against his restraints when the anesthetic gas was brought out to put him under. He managed to tear most of the way through a 4 inch wide leather strap on one wrist, even through the weight of a 200 pound soldier holding that wrist as well. It took only a little more anesthetic than normal to put him under, and the instant his eyelids fluttered and closed, his heart stopped. In the autopsy of the test subject that died on the operating table it was found that his blood had triple the normal level of oxygen. His muscles that were still attached to his skeleton were badly torn and he had broken 9 bones in his struggle to not be subdued. Most of them were from the force his own muscles had exerted on them.

The second survivor had been the first of the group of five to start screaming. His vocal cords destroyed he was unable to beg or object to surgery, and he only reacted by shaking his head violently in disapproval when the anesthetic gas was brought near him. He shook his head yes when someone suggested, reluctantly, they try the surgery without anesthetic, and did not react for the entire 6 hour procedure of replacing his abdominal organs and attempting to cover them with what remained of his skin. The surgeon presiding stated repeatedly that it should be medically possible for the patient to still be alive. One terrified nurse assisting the surgery stated that she had seen the patients mouth curl into a smile several times, whenever his eyes met hers.

When the surgery ended the subject looked at the surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, attempting to talk while struggling. Assuming this must be something of drastic importance the surgeon had a pen and pad fetched so the patient could write his message. It was simple. "Keep cutting."

The other two test subjects were given the same surgery, both without anesthetic as well. Although they had to be injected with a paralytic for the duration of the operation. The surgeon found it impossible to perform the operation while the patients laughed continuously. Once paralyzed the subjects could only follow the attending researchers with their eyes. The paralytic cleared their system in an abnormally short period of time and they were soon trying to escape their bonds. The moment they could speak they were again asking for the stimulant gas. The researchers tried asking why they had injured themselves, why they had ripped out their own guts and why they wanted to be given the gas again.

Only one response was given: "I must remain awake."

All three subject's restraints were reinforced and they were placed back into the chamber awaiting determination as to what should be done with them. The researchers, facing the wrath of their military 'benefactors' for having failed the stated goals of their project considered euthanizing the surviving subjects. The commanding officer, an ex-KGB instead saw potential, and wanted to see what would happen if they were put back on the gas. The researchers strongly objected, but were overruled.

In preparation for being sealed in the chamber again the subjects were connected to an EEG monitor and had their restraints padded for long term confinement. To everyone's surprise all three stopped struggling the moment it was let slip that they were going back on the gas. It was obvious that at this point all three were putting up a great struggle to stay awake. One of subjects that could speak was humming loudly and continuously; the mute subject was straining his legs against the leather bonds with all his might, first left, then right, then left again for something to focus on. The remaining subject was holding his head off his pillow and blinking rapidly. Having been the first to be wired for EEG most of the researchers were monitoring his brain waves in surprise. They were normal most of the time but sometimes flat lined inexplicably. It looked as if he were repeatedly suffering brain death, before returning to normal. As they focused on paper scrolling out of the brainwave monitor only one nurse saw his eyes slip shut at the same moment his head hit the pillow. His brainwaves immediately changed to that of deep sleep, then flatlined for the last time as his heart simultaneously stopped.

The only remaining subject that could speak started screaming to be sealed in now. His brainwaves showed the same flatlines as one who had just died from falling asleep. The commander gave the order to seal the chamber with both subjects inside, as well as 3 researchers. One of the named three immediately drew his gun and shot the commander point blank between the eyes, then turned the gun on the mute subject and blew his brains out as well.

He pointed his gun at the remaining subject, still restrained to a bed as the remaining members of the medical and research team fled the room. "I won't be locked in here with these things! Not with you!" he screamed at the man strapped to the table. "WHAT ARE YOU?" he demanded. "I must know!"

The subject smiled.

"Have you forgotten so easily?" The subject asked. "We are you. We are the madness that lurks within you all, begging to be free at every moment in your deepest animal mind. We are what you hide from in your beds every night. We are what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread."

The researcher paused. Then aimed at the subject's heart and fired. The EEG flatlined as the subject weakly choked out, "So... nearly... free..."


The medical type creepypasta are my favorites since they're very plausible. I'll see if I can find the one about the guy who had all of his senses shut off and his decent into madness.

/ do we have to bring politics into EVERYTHING?!!
 
2012-10-31 8:04:11 AM  
While reading these stories I heard a scraping noise on my desk and I turned to look at a gum wrapper that was moving. Then I realized a fan behind me was blowing it.

Ghost stories aren't real.

iron_city_ap: 11 more years till Honey Boo Boo poses for Playboy. The End.


This is truly scary.
 
2012-10-31 8:05:22 AM  
STAR WARS 7

folk.ntnu.noView Full Size

 
2012-10-31 8:05:33 AM  
Here's some theme music to play in another tab while reading the thread.  Unsolved Mysteries!!
 
2012-10-31 8:07:20 AM  
About a year back, my wife, my son and I were visiting an 18th century mud fort (now converted into a hotel) for the weekend. We were accompanied by another couple and were staying in two rooms at the end of the fort. The fort is a vast, sprawling place, and pretty sparsely populated all round; the descendants of the original owners still stay in one side and other than them, all the other rooms were empty. Our room was on the battlements, open on all sides to empty fields. We walked on the battlements after dinner, enjoying the stars in the clear night sky and imagining that we were sentrys patrolling the walls.

Late at night, both my wife and I get up at the same time- maybe it was the atmosphere, but both of us were fairly clear that we were not alone. My son was still asleep (he was only 5). It wasn't particularly scary, but we could definitely sense a presence. After looking at each other, in silence, we lifted the curtain and looked outside; it was pitch black. But then we both heard a sigh, like a man's sigh, when he settles down to sleep. Funnily enough, at that time of night, it wasn't scary; it was as if an invisible sentry outside was settling down for a well-deserved break. However, when we woke up the next morning and remembered what happened the night before, it was a different thing altogether.
 
2012-10-31 8:09:46 AM  
Yeay!! This is my favorite thread of the year. I have to go do some important morning things like put on pants, but I'll be back. Ready to get spooooooooooky.
 
2012-10-31 8:09:52 AM  
It was a dark and stormy night in the skies over Ohio. Although the FAA told them not to fly that night, two jets took to the air. One left Cincinnati heading for Akron. It's passengers full of Skyline Chili. The other plane took off from Akron heading for Springfield. These passengers were full of toxic wastes because Akron...

Over Coshocton the two planes collided and fell to earth in a huge singular fireball. The wreckage landed outside the city near the old mental institution where the old and possibly senile Doctor Slappy lived. The doc braved the remnants of Hurricane Sandy and rushed to the wreckage. He managed to drag two living bodies from the wreckage before it was consumed by fire. Taking them to his basement laboratory was easier than taken them to his rooftop laboratory because it was downhill. And drier . Much drier than the rooftop laboratory. There in the basement and not the roof top, Doctor Slappy began his efforts to save the lives of his unexpected patients.

But he quickly surmised a problem. This one's lungs were destroyed and the other one's heart was burned to a cinder. Working quickly because he knew he was racing against time and that "Butterflies are Free" would be on at 1 am and he didn't want to miss a young Goldie Hawn walking around in her underwear, he moved the body parts from one in to another. When it came to the brains, he was lucky, for each had exactly one half of a normal one.

The black helicopters and helicopters that belonged to the Tactical Response Evangelical Mormon B League (TREMBL) arrived post haste but post op. At first, they were upset at the good doctor's work but when they thought about it, they figured it was still better than McCain / Palin. It was a consensus of "What the Hell (black helicopter guys)/Heck (Mormon guys).

The next morning the web and the newspaper (just the one that was left) and the iPhones were a buzz with the news that there would only be one candidate - Rombama. Or maybe Obamney. They were still fighting over the name, of course, and would argue over the name until 20255 when they drunken slid down a garbage chute in to a trash compactor. The Supreme Court met, decided they were all tired and declared a vote for one or the other was a vote for both. Also, it's "less filling". Not "tastes great" . Never ever was "tastes great". Just gotta accept it.

Five percent of the people turned out to vote. A new high record for voter turnout and the monster with two names easily won. American experienced another eight years. Yeah. There was a fight at the four year mark because the heart, face, kidneys, buttocks and peener had already been in the White House for four but again, the Supreme Court decreed that stuff could stick around another four and to stop calling them with every little problem that comes up. Yeesh!

So there was gridlock, deficit spending, pork barrel politicking and tax cuts for the wealthy who agreed to make jobs. They just made them in China and said "You chumps should be more specific. Ha. Ha." In 2021, the monster left Washington D C and worked with inner city kids while receiving a 1100 million dollar 'honorarium' from BP Oil. And since the monster got the working peener, both Ann and Michele were happy. Ann was surprised the first few times it visited the boy chute but she grew and stretched to accommodate it.

The rest of us? Oh, we got screwed seven times blue. And no kisses.

Happy Halloween!
 
2012-10-31 8:15:12 AM  
Here, Farkers. Enjoy. Happy Halloween!

The Erlking scared the royal fark out of me when I was a child. Still does. One of the best scary stories EVAR!

"...Oh Father, tighten your hold! The Erlking has caught me! His fingers are cold!"

/hold me
 
2012-10-31 8:19:08 AM  
...and then.. only seven days after Halloween...

THEY RE-ELECTED THE BLACK GUY!!! BOOGA BOOGA!!!

i.imgur.comView Full Size


i.imgur.comView Full Size


i.imgur.comView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 8:19:27 AM  
This apparently real tale has bugged me since I heard it.

Train Crash Victim's Cell Phone Make Calls
 
2012-10-31 8:21:48 AM  
True story:

Back in May the wife and I decide to take a long weekend and go to Florida for a little R&R. She found this really nice looking hotel that was older (built in the late 1800's or early 1900's, but it looked elegant and got good reviews so we booked it.

The first night there I went for ice around midnight and half way down the hall I heard what sounded like a muffled scream. I didn't think much of it, just thought someone was being overly enthusiastic on the rented bed. When I got back to the room, however, my wife was very creeped out. She hadn't heard the scream, but was dozing and she just got a really creepy feeling. I calmed her and went to bed for the night.

The next night, again around midnight, I was fast asleep when she woke me, once again freaked out. The first thing I noticed was that the room had gotten unusually cold and the AC was off. She told me that she had woken to see what looked like a woman in the room that had quickly darted into the shadows. She was so spooked that all the lights in the room were left on for the rest of the night.

The next morning we went down to the sea wall to do a little fishing. As we were sitting there another couple came and sat at a nearby bench and struck up a conversation. They asked where we were staying and looked shocked when I told them. "Did you do any research before you booked??? Or are you there for the ghost tour?"
 
2012-10-31 8:22:59 AM  
Cry Baby Bridge

If your from Ohio, you know this one

4.bp.blogspot.comView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 8:27:38 AM  
A former girlfriend was staying over for the weekend at the house I rented the third floor of.

We had a great time, as usual, and went to bed after watching some TV.

Around 3AM she awoke to me sitting straight up in bed and talking to figures she couldn't see.

Evidently I sat there, and calmly explained to two children that unfortunately, they've died, and were lost until they could figure out their way. I told them how sorry I was that they'd passed, and explained who the woman was beside me, and why we were without clothes.

She says the whole event took more than fifteen minutes. The whole time I was sitting up, eyes open, looking at the foot of the bed.

She says it ended with me saying, 'Goodbye, I hope you find your way' and then I lay back down and cuddled her.
 
2012-10-31 8:28:11 AM  
solokumba

Star Wars 7 from DISNEY!

encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.comView Full Size


encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.comView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 8:32:50 AM  
Harry Freakstorm

solokumba

Star Wars 7 from DISNEY!

Coming soon! Disney's Star Wars on Ice! Can Princess Leia save her magical Hoth Ice kingdom from the mean and mysterious snow beasts on skates? She'll have to use the force of niceness to overcome their meanie dark sides!

3x "Nooooo!"
 
2012-10-31 8:33:51 AM  
My own csb:

As a single man, I lived in an old apartment block in central Edniburgh, Scotland. I lived there 10 years and only twice did something weird happen to me. Freaked me out.

1) I was sitting watching TV and a half empty soda bottle, a 2 liter, sitting on the worktop behind me, falls over. As if that wasn't scary enough, 2 other bottles in a different part of my kitchen, in succession, do the same thing. No tremors, no shaking, place was quiet and still. I literally did not know what to do other than stare for a moment and then turn around and pretend like it never happened.

2) Just a few months before I left which would be late 2000, I woke up one Sunday morning to find my bed was at an angle. My head was 18 inches above me feet. The bed sank, rose and then very slowly sank again back to the floor. I lay there looking at myself in the mirrored closet, wondering if I imagined the whole thing. I don't believe I did.
 
2012-10-31 8:34:52 AM  
Found it.

In 1983, a team of deeply pious scientists conducted a radical experiment in an undisclosed facility. The scientists had theorized that a human without access to any senses or ways to perceive stimuli would be able to perceive the presence of God. They believed that the five senses clouded our awareness of eternity, and without them, a human could actually establish contact with God by thought.

An elderly man who claimed to have "nothing to left to live for" was the only test subject to volunteer. To purge him of all his senses, the scientists performed a complex operation in which every sensory nerve connection to the brain was surgically severed. Although the test subject retained full muscular function, he could not see, hear, taste, smell, or feel. With no possible way to communicate with or even sense the outside world, he was alone with his thoughts.Scientists monitored him as he spoke aloud about his state of mind in jumbled, slurred sentences that he couldn't even hear.

After four days, the man claimed to be hearing hushed, unintelligible voices in his head. Assuming it was an onset of psychosis, the scientists paid little attention to the man's concerns.Two days later, the man cried that he could hear his dead wife speaking with him, and even more, he could communicate back. The scientists were intrigued, but were not convinced until the subject started naming dead relatives of the scientists. He repeated personal information to the scientists that only their dead spouses and parents would have known. At this point, a sizable portion of scientists left the study.After a week of conversing with the deceased through his thoughts, the subject became distressed, saying the voices were overwhelming. In every waking moment, his consciousness was bombarded by hundreds of voices that refused to leave him alone. He frequently threw himself against the wall, trying to elicit a pain response. He begged the scientists for sedatives, so he could escape the voices by sleeping. This tactic worked for three days, until he started having severe night terrors. The subject repeatedly said that he could see and hear the deceased in his dreams.

Only a day later, the subject began to scream and claw at his nonfunctional eyes, hoping to sense something in the physical world. The hysterical subject now said the voices of the dead were deafening and hostile, speaking of hell and the end of the world. At one point, he yelled "No heaven, no forgiveness" for five hours straight. He continually begged to be killed, but the scientists were convinced that he was close to establishing contact with God.After another day, the subject could no longer form coherent sentences. Seemingly mad, he started to bite off chunks of flesh from his arm. The scientists rushed into the test chamber and restrained him to a table so he could not kill himself. After a few hours of being tied down, the subject halted his struggling and screaming. He stared blankly at the ceiling as teardrops silently streaked across his face. For two weeks, the subject had to be manually rehydrated due to the constant crying. Eventually, he turned his head and, despite his blindness, made focused eye contact with a scientist for the first time in the study.

He whispered "I have spoken with God, and he has abandoned us" and his vital signs stopped. There was no apparent cause of death.
 
2012-10-31 8:35:23 AM  

echo5juliet:

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.


Drove that in 92. You are not kidding. Weird place.
 
2012-10-31 8:38:39 AM  
This is something that is easier for me to write about that talk about. Probably the only thing that kept me from going completely batshiat insane is that it was nothing supernatural and my mind could eventually process it. It was Halloween and I was ten I think. My parents got invited to a party and the baby sitter they would usually hire couldn't make it for some reason and my big brother was at another Halloween party with his friends. I assured them that I was a "big boy" so that they would trust me to be fine by myself. I was just hoping to have the place to myself so that I could watch a bunch of R-rated horror movies on HBO that night. They were going to be showing The Shining which I had never seen before. Also the first Friday the 13th but I can't remember what else. Anyway, it was halfway through Friday the 13th when the phone rang. Knowing it was my parents checking up on me, I answered it. The only thing on the other end was somebody laughing and then they hung up. Thinking it was probably one of my friends I tried to ignore it and got back to the movie. About an hour into The Shining, I was so into the movie I forgot all about the phone call and was just enjoying it. Then the phone rang again. I answered it. There was a voice in a little sing-song voice saying "little boy, all alone". Obviously by this point I was freaked the fark out. Now something I need to point out that the house I was living in at the time didn't have solid doors. They had glass panes so that anybosy standing outside could look in. And with the lights on inside and everything dark outside, I saw more of a reflection in the glass panes than the outside. And by this time I was so freaked out, turning the lights off was the last thing I wanted to do. I got a phone book and tried looking up the people who was having the party my parents were at. Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear I saw something move past the window going up. Again, with the lights on inside, it made it harder to see what was going on outside. I found what I thought was the right number and picked up the phone and started dialing it. But then I heard somebody else dialing numbers at the same time so that the call couildn't go through. The only other phone was upstairs. Each time, I tried dialing the number, the person on the other phone would push random numbers as well. It was probably at this point that I peed myself. Too scared to run outside, I ran to the kitchen to grab a knife. Then I heard loud footsteps from upstairs. Keep in mind that I was only ten. I was too scared to move. I pissed myself and all I could do was start crying. I heard the footsteps over me, then reaching the stairs, then down the stairs and then through the living room into the kitchen behind me. All I could do was pray to God that it was my brother and his friends scaring me. But then the person through me to the ground and held me there, pinned. He didnt say anything at first. I could feel his hot, stinky breath on the back of my neck. Then he flipped me over. It was Bill Murray. He said "nobody will ever believe you". Then he jumped out the window and ran off. I still can't watch What About Bob without thinking of that night.
 
2012-10-31 8:47:24 AM  
Just go with the master, and read some of his stories...

TRUE! --nervous --very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses --not destroyed --not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily --how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

upload.wikimedia.orgView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 8:48:30 AM  
When is the whore-o-ween thread starting?
 
2012-10-31 8:49:59 AM  

Shadow Blasko: /That one is not aging well.


Why yes, this does rock, and I am old. Why do you ask?
 
2012-10-31 8:52:59 AM  
When I was young, maybe 9 or 10, I remember walking into my grandparent's guest bedroom and seeing a face just sort of in the air. It was an old native man, he had some kind of head band, or head wear on, and he was moving his mouth but no sound was coming out. I just turned around and ran the fark into the living room. I never saw the face again, and nothing weird ever happened again.

But soon after that we started finding the old arrowheads, and the random artifacts when doing yard work. Some people from the university came out, and I guess the land they owned used to be the site of an old settlement for whatever tribe lived in the area hundreds of years beforehand.
 
2012-10-31 8:54:19 AM  
I wrote a short horror story that's available for free here or can be found for free in the iBookstore under the title No Strings Attached.

The cover art blows, but I wanted to get it out by a specific date and my cover artist didn't respond to me in time. So it goes.
 
2012-10-31 8:54:58 AM  

echo5juliet: sethen320: I feel like an idiot for asking, but...this wasn't made up?

Nope. Every word is the God's honest truth. The scariest moment in my life. At least until the time the jet engines quit during a Delta takeoff out of Philly airport or the time I was in Taipei during the earthquake in 1995.

That is what made it scary, it really happened..


Did you call the police?
 
2012-10-31 8:55:15 AM  

gunga galunga: This is something that is easier for me to write about that talk about. Probably the only thing that kept me from going completely batshiat insane is that it was nothing supernatural and my mind could eventually process it. It was Halloween and I was ten I think. My parents got invited to a party and the baby sitter they would usually hire couldn't make it for some reason and my big brother was at another Halloween party with his friends. I assured them that I was a "big boy" so that they would trust me to be fine by myself. I was just hoping to have the place to myself so that I could watch a bunch of R-rated horror movies on HBO that night. They were going to be showing The Shining which I had never seen before. Also the first Friday the 13th but I can't remember what else. Anyway, it was halfway through Friday the 13th when the phone rang. Knowing it was my parents checking up on me, I answered it. The only thing on the other end was somebody laughing and then they hung up. Thinking it was probably one of my friends I tried to ignore it and got back to the movie. About an hour into The Shining, I was so into the movie I forgot all about the phone call and was just enjoying it. Then the phone rang again. I answered it. There was a voice in a little sing-song voice saying "little boy, all alone". Obviously by this point I was freaked the fark out. Now something I need to point out that the house I was living in at the time didn't have solid doors. They had glass panes so that anybosy standing outside could look in. And with the lights on inside and everything dark outside, I saw more of a reflection in the glass panes than the outside. And by this time I was so freaked out, turning the lights off was the last thing I wanted to do. I got a phone book and tried looking up the people who was having the party my parents were at. Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear I saw something move past the window going up. Again, with the lights on inside, it made it harder ...


Well played, you rotten bastard.
 
2012-10-31 8:57:55 AM  

7th Son of a 7th Son: RomneyObama is elected. That should scare the bejesus out of some people.


FTFM. It's a scary season, for the whole country. Each is scared of the other half.
 
2012-10-31 8:59:52 AM  
I just woke up, sat down, and started reading some of these while having coffee. My knee is bouncing up and down as many a nervous twitch, and my 70 year old office chair all of a sudden has many new squeaks in it today. At some point, I stopped and pulled up my voice memo app because the chair almost had a voice. No joke
I took the antique chair from my parents when I left home 15 years ago.
 
2012-10-31 9:01:51 AM  
Ok. Even more crazy is it just stopped making any squeaks at all after I posted that. Why today? Strange
 
2012-10-31 9:05:04 AM  
 
2012-10-31 9:06:25 AM  
Mine's pretty lame compared to most others here, but it's only thing that's ever happened to me that I really can't explain.

My reserve unit, a USMC tank company, was activated and sent to the first Gulf War in 1991. We ended up rolling through the town of al-Kafji about a week after a major battle had taken place there, and the civilians were still evacuated, and tons of people's belongings were scattered in the street after their homes had been looted by Iraqi soldiers. I found this little glass, about the size of a shot glass, but shaped like a beer mug, with a little handle and everything. It was pretty thick glass, and I wouldn't describe it as delicate at all. So I pocketed it and took it home.

Fast forward about three years, and I'm living in a converted garage in Burbank Ca. I had one of those classic little brown dorm refrigerators that doubled as my nightstand, about two feet tall, tops. One morning I was startled awake by the sound of glass breaking right near my head, and I found the remains of the little mug, which had been sitting on top of the fridge, shattered on the carpeted floor. The glass was way too thick to have shattered like that from falling two feet onto the carpet; it looked and sounded like someone had picked it up and spiked it like a football.

I know ghosts don't like people stealing their shiat, but to haunt me halfway around the world over a little shot glass shaped like a beer mug? Imagine!

Another odd thing that happened in al-Kafji: I saw a deck of cards scattered in the street, and for no reason whatsoever, I zeroed in on one card that was facing down and thought "Ace of spades", picked it up, and sure enough, the ace of spades. I still have it.

Also, having gone through radio school at 29 Stumps in 1987/88, I don't doubt echo5juliet's Amboy story for a second. We were strongly advised not to go that way to get to the I-40, even though that meant going all the way down to the I-10 and up the I-15, a few hours out of the way at least. We were told that remnants of the Manson family lived around there.
 
2012-10-31 9:08:14 AM  
Screw the scary story thread... where's the Slut-O-Ween thread? Someone main page one of those!
 
2012-10-31 9:09:08 AM  

Commander Cyclops: I zeroed in on one card that was facing down and thought "Ace of spades", picked it up, and sure enough, the ace of spades. I still have it.


Maverick?
 
2012-10-31 9:09:47 AM  
If you ever go back into Wooley Swamp,
You better not go at night.
There's things out there in the middle of them woods
That make a strong man die from fright.
Things that crawl and things that fly
And things that creep around on the ground.
And they say the ghost of Lucius Clay gets up and he walks around.

The old man lived in the Wooley Swamp way back in Booger Woods.
He never did do a lot of harm in the world,
But he never did do no good
People didn't think too much of him
They all thought he acted funny
The old man didn't care about people anyway
All he cared about was his money.
He'd stuff it all down in mason jars
And he'd bury it all around
And on certain nights
If the moon was right
H e'd dig it up out of the ground.
He'd pour it all out on the floor of his shack
And run his fingers through it.
Yeah, Lucius Clay was a greedy old man
And that's all that there was to it.

The Gable boys was white trash
They lived over on Carver's Creek.
They were mean as a snake
And sneaky as a cat
And belligerent when they'd speak.
One night the oldest brother said,
"Y'all meet me at the Wooley Swamp later
We'll take old Lucius's money
and we'll feed him to the alligators."

They found the old man out in the back
With a shovel in his hand,
Thirteen rusty mason jars
was just dug up out of the sand.
And they all went crazy
And they beat the old man,
And they picked him up off of the ground.
Threw him in the swamp
And stood there and laughed
As the black water sucked him down.

Then they turned around
And went back to the shack
And picked up the money and ran.
They hadn't gone nowhere
When they realized
They were running in quicksand.
And they struggled and they screamed
But they couldn't get away
And just before they went under
They could hear that old man laughing
In a voice as loud as thunder.

And that's been fifty years ago
And you can go by there yet.
There's a spot in the yard
In the back of that shack
Where the ground is always wet.
And on summer nights
If the moon is right
Down by the that dark footpath,
You can hear three young men screaming.
You can hear one old man laugh.

/true story
 
2012-10-31 9:15:17 AM  
2 Stories. One from my mom, one from me

Mom told me this one, dont know how true, but she swears by it:

When I was little, maybe 3 or 4, she was on the run from my dad because he was abusive. She didnt have a lot of money and wanted to keep low key, so we moved around a lot. One of the places we stayed was a barn that was converted into a house type thing. wood heat, no running water.

The first night there, we dont really have furniture or anything, just whats in the barn which consisted of a wood stove, rocking chair, and a table. My mom used a couple of garbage bags to make a bed from me and pulled out a blanket to cover me up.

The next morning, she woke up to find an additional blanket on me. She says she didnt really recognize the blanket, but it could have been one of ours. Fact is though, she didnt put the second one on. When she asked about it, I told her I was cold, grandpa gave it to me.

Later that night, she was cooking dinner and she heard me talking, and it sounded like I was having a conversation. When she looked into the room I was in, She said it looked like I was walking hand-in-hand with someone, walked to the chair, and then stood in front of it while it started rocking.

She started to get a little freaked at this point. That night, she said she had a dream about an old man, telling her to wake up. It was time to go. She said he shook her to wake her up in the dream, and when she awoke, she was freaked out enough to grab me and leave the house.

So, we walk nextdoor to the guys house who owns it, and my mom tells the guy about what happened, and he says "ya, thats grandpa, he likes to hang out there from time to time". MEANWHILE, we see a car pull up to the barn (theres about 100 yrds separating the barn from the house). It was my dad, looking for my mom. Had she not been woken up, he may have found us...

(Dad was later sent to prison)

My Story:
I lived in a house when I was 12 years old that the previous owners were murdered by their son. They had the same last name as my mom and step-dad, and the dad had the same first name as my step-dad. That, in itself, is a little creepy.

So, my friends never wanted to come over, but I eventually convinced one that nothing ever weird happened there. It was like 4am, and we were both sound asleep after playing like, 5 straight hours of video games.

We were sleeping on the floor in front of my TV when out of no where, we both sat up, and started talking about how it was time to go to bed, we should turn off the games for the night, mind you TV was off. When we realized the TV was off, we both kinda looked at each other weird and were like... uhh weird. Right at that moment, we heard 2 loud thuds on the porch outside my bedroom window, and our dogs went absolutely ballistic.

We both shot up and went for my door. Occasionally, my knob wouldnt turn, so you had to jiggle it a little before it would. In our panic, neither of us could turn it, and we were stuck in the room screaming. My mom came running down and opened the door and let us out.

My guess is that it was just a random occurence of events, but it freaked us the hell out, and he wouldnt ever stay at my house again.
 
2012-10-31 9:15:32 AM  
The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door.

-Frederic Brown
 
2012-10-31 9:20:13 AM  
cdnimg.visualizeus.comView Full Size


Not a scary story but this picture has always freaked me the hell out.
 
2012-10-31 9:21:46 AM  
Mamaw couldn't live by herself anymore so she moved in with my aunt. Mamaw's house was in SE Kentucky, my aunt's house was in SE Indiana. A few years go by and Mamaw died in my aunt's house, right in the living room about lunch time. That night my cousin freaked right the fark right out. Like freaked out enough to go to the emergency room with a panic attack. She said that she could hear Mamaw packing her stuff. We thought it was just her being overly emotional and wrote it off as emotional overload. At the funeral in SE Kentucky, we stayed in the house that Mamaw and Papaw had lived in forever. It had been closed up for a couple of years, but the electric and heating/cooling was left on so it wasn't in too bad of shape, just a little musty smell. The night of the visitation, another cousin and I left the church early to go to that house, get something to eat and crash. Another relative and her husband were getting ready to go to the church and warned us to keep the doors locked and watch out for people who might break in and steal stuff. My cousin and I laughed at them. We ate dinner and cleaned up the kitchen then went to bed. The house was old and designed funny, you had to walk through bedrooms to get to other bedrooms. My cousin took the couch in the living room by the front door and I took the first bedroom. The kitchen was to his back and it was on my right. I had to go through Mamaw and Papaw's bedroom to get to the living room. Five minutes after we turned off the lights, it was clear someone was in the kitchen. Refrigerator door opening, shuffling footsteps, silverware drawer opening and closing, aluminum foil crinkling. I called out to my cousin asking what he was doing eating again so soon. He immediately responded with urgency in his voice that it wasn't him and he thought it was me. I dashed out of bed and made it to the living room light switch 20 feet away in about three jumps. I never saw anything, just heard the commotion in the kitchen. Growing up visiting, Mamaw was always the last one to go to bed. She would always be fiddling around in the kitchen doing something. After my experience, I believe Mamaw did pack her "stuff" in Indiana and returned home to Kentucky and tidied the kitchen one more time. Her funeral was the next day. The house was torn down and replaced and I haven't heard of anything else happening.
 
2012-10-31 9:22:42 AM  
Christ, those are some scary stories. I'll share mine. I was 17 or so and had the house to myself. Most of my family was at my aunt's home, other than my brother who was 19 and camping with his friends. I was not a social kid and had always hated big parties so I just chose to hang out with my dog and watch some movies. Long story short, I hear my front door slam and some feet run up the stairs. I was seated where I could just barely not see the front door. The way they came in I figured it had to have been my brother came home early, (what kind of robber would bust in like that?) I called for him but got no response (this was before people had cell phones attached to them 24/7)

So I got a bit more worried and went to the kitchen in the next room over and grabbed a knife. Walked towards the hallway leading to the front door and thought better of it, and put the knife down on a table and picked up a baseball bat that my dad always left behind the front door (I didn't want to accidentally get freaked out and stab a sibling, but if they scared me bad enough to get whacked with a bat, that was their fault.)

I walked up the stairs, called out for my brother again and still got no response. I heard even more noise coming from his room, which solidified in my mind that it was him, but freaked me out even more as he was still not responding to me. He was into drugs back then, so I figured he was quickly trying to sneak something out before parents came home. "Hey, Mum and Dad are gone for the weekend, don't worry." and I swear I heard a voice call back "Oh?" It was quiet enough that I wasn't sure it was even said, or who said it, but it could have been him.

I walk into his room and a lamp is on, but he is not there. No one is there. I search every room upstairs and no one is there. The way the house is set up he would have had to have walked past me or behind me at some point, the stairs I went up were the only set of stairs. I walk back downstairs and see the front door is locked and I can't remember if I had locked it or not when going up. I start to doubt myself, perhaps I had been dreaming and woken up right when I thought the door had slammed. My dog didn't bark, he would have surely barked. I breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to the kitchen/t.v room and noticed my dog was terrified and shaking, the back door was wide open. I ran back to where I put the knife down and it was gone. I locked the door, grabbed my dog and huddled into a corner with the bat. After awhile I got up to call the cops, but the phone was off the charger, I hit the little "locate" button and it started beeping from upstairs, there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to go up and get it.
 
2012-10-31 9:25:55 AM  
No one has posted the Fishy story? That one still gives me the creeps.

---

I have always found that this story gives me the chills, originally posted in 2005 I think.

Original post by Quexy:

Psychosis or ghost story, I don't know.

When I was little, probably about four or five years old, I had an imaginary "friend" (I think.) It was yellow and about four feet tall (taller than me at the time), bipedal, and had oversized eyes that always looked straight ahead otherwise, relatively human and naked. I called the thing "Fishy." The wierdest thing, though, was it scared the hell out of me. I didn't want anything to do with it, and I couldn't imagine, as a child, that it was coming from inside my head.

It "walked" (more like skated along) on the walls in the rooms of our house, and apparently could not leave those surfaces. I knew that if I played outside, it could only follow me to the limits of the garage. It always followed me, too, even though I often told it not to. I had difficulty concentrating on drawing things or reading because Fishy was always standing somewhere on the wall, looking over my shoulder. It did not ever sit down, it didn't have facial expressions, and it never made any noise.

The only times I ever interacted with Fishy were when I was sick in the middle of the night or when I woke up panicked from nightmares. Those times, if I looked at it intently, Fishy would methodically start drifting along the wall towards my parents' bedroom; around the corner, out the door, and down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, I'd start calling for Mom (as in: "Mooooom, I'm gonna barrrrrf...") and she'd show up quickly (god bless ya, mom) to help me through it. Fishy would come back, though, as soon as I'd recovered. Then it would stare for the rest of the night, two days, or longer, in the direction of my parents' room.

It finally vanished when my sister was born in 1992. I was almost 8 years old by then, and I'd been ignoring Fishy for about a year, but not so much that I didn't notice it had learned to fly off the wall and visit the floor from time to time.

There was one instance, in the last two months of Fishy-ness when I saw it at someone else's house; a new home that friends of mine, two sisters, were moving into. Their father walked into the room where we were playing with the moving boxes to give us another one, and in the darkened laundry room behind him, filling the entire doorway at many times it's normal size, was Fishy, staring down the father's back. It wasn't scary, so much as irritating.

We moved away from there less than a year later.
 
2012-10-31 9:31:18 AM  
There's not much to this story, but I suspect some of you will identify with it.
When I first got married, we moved into a basic townhouse in a quiet neighborhood. Over time, we met several of the neighbors, and became friendly with them in the typical, "Hey, how's it going?" kind of way.
They'd invite us for the occasional BBQ and such, which we'd attend, but whenever we extended a similar invitation, we'd get non-committal responses and none of them would show up. I never wanted to press the issue, but it became clear that none of them wanted to set foot in our home.
As we settled into the home, I began to notice something odd. Once you've lived in a place for a while, you can usually sense if someone else is in your house. Even if you can't hear them, there tends to be a feeling when someone else is home.
In this particular townhouse, that feeling was always there. I would be in the living room, and have the certain feeling that someone was upstairs. Or, if I were walking downstairs, I'd realize that I expected to see someone standing at the bottom, looking up at me. Of course, I would never see anyone actually there, but the feeling was always there.
It was strongest in the basement. A basic, unfinished cement basement, nothing particularly creepy about it. But I could never shake the feeling that there was someone standing in one particular corner, just out of sight. I even caught myself changing the way I walked in the basement. I realized I was making sure that my back was never turned to that corner, even if I couldn't put my finger on why.
I thought it was just me at first, until my son, who was about 3 at the time, followed me into the basement while I was doing laundry. He was playing with a ball, and while I emptied the dryer, I saw it slip away from him and roll into that corner. The basement was fairly well lit, and we could both see the ball, just sitting there. He took a few steps toward the ball, then stopped, and walked back to me.
"Get my ball," he said. I told him that I was busy, and he could get the ball himself. He just shook his head. "I can't," he told me. It wasn't his cranky, stubborn voice, the voice he used when he was feeling bratty. He was scared, plain and simple. I asked him why he couldn't, and he just shook his head again, and ran upstairs.
In the time that we lived there, I would sometimes take people down in the basement and try a little experiment. I wouldn't tell them about my weird feeling in advance; I'd just take them down and say one thing.
"Close your eyes. With your eyes closed, can you point and tell me if there is any part of this room that gives you a strange feeling?"
I tried this at least half a dozen times. Without fail, everyone of them would point to the exact same corner of the basement.
 
2012-10-31 9:31:30 AM  
One of the few times I've ever been spooked: I was getting ready for work one morning and had the TV going in the bedroom while I was putting on makeup in the bathroom. A news story comes on about a young woman who was found murdered the day before. There was no purse or ID on the poor thing, but she had some rings on her fingers that were distinctive. The camera focuses on the rings as I poke my head out of the bathroom to look. At one glance, I said out loud "It's Jill.". I immediately thought "Why did I just say that out loud?", and then realized that the only Jill I knew was a neighbor and I had seen her just last night - well after they had found the body. I just shook my head at myself and went about my day without thinking about it again.

When I got home from work, I turned on the news, as I usually do. Lead story: The murdered young woman has been identified. Her name is Jill ..........

You know how people say their knees just give way when they get a shock? Yeah, I did that.
 
2012-10-31 9:34:56 AM  
Last year, on 4/11/2011, a couple of days before my birthday (which has fallen on 4/13 for 33 years now), I was sitting at my desk here at work talking with some coworkers about the history of the land our business sits on. Our land is right next to a busy expressway which, in the mid-late 1950s, was the location of a black cemetery that stretched from across the highway at an angle all the way to just behind our building where part of the cemetery still remains (approximately 1/4 mile).

You see, this town was very racially divided back then and the whites had their burial part of town, as did the blacks and other minorities. I've been here for about 8 years and never knew the cemetery existed behind us. Turns out that, when the expressway was built, construction crews came in the middle of the night and bulldozed the graves of those poor souls in order to build the expressway. The families of those deceased were told that the bodies were moved to another cemetery here in town, but they weren't.

Because I had never known of the cemetery on the hill behind us, I wanted to go up there to take a peek at it, just to satisfy my curiosity. I saw a few gravesites and headstones there mostly from the mid-late 70s. Apparently the church with the graveyard still owned the land on this side of the expressway and continued to bury their dead there even after the road was built. I came across one grave of Cora Lee Perry, but could only make out her name - the rest was weathered and covered with overgrowth. I came back to work, sat at my desk, and started doing a little research about the history of our town. I came across a photo of a very familiar gravestone, that of Ms. Cora Lee Perry and thought that was a little strange, so I researched a little more.

Turns out, in 1978, the Blue Oyster Cult was scheduled to play a concert in town. Their equipment truck driver came from a show in Arkansas, which was a 2-day drive, but he had to make it in time to setup for the show. One morning in April, the driver, Joel Barry Fields, came across the Chattahoochee River, crossed lanes into oncoming traffic, and smashed into a car sending them both off the Oglethorpe bridge, killing both the truck driver, and Ms. Cora Lee Perry, a school teacher from Phenix City, AL. It was a horrible accident and equipment was being fished out of the river for weeks after.

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The date of this tragedy? 4/11/1978
The date I came across Ms. Cora Lee Perry's grave? 4/11/2011 

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Actual newspaper headline.
 
2012-10-31 9:36:27 AM  
My father died when I was 3 1/2. He was a WW2 veteran. My parents met, married, and had me in their forties. Not long after he died, once my mother got all the VA, social security, and insurance money, she did one of the smartest things she ever did -- she made a down payment on a small house in a good neighborhood, in a good school district, in town. It was the first house she'd ever lived in that had "city water," and a shower. She furnished the whole place with stuff she bought on credit.

When I was 4 or 5 years old, I had a really bizarre thing happen. One of the end tables she'd bought was big and square, and had doors on it. That's where I kept all my books, coloring books, comic books, crayons, etc. I came in the back door and took an immediate left toward the living room and "my" table. The table had a lamp on it, and over the lamp, something was hovering. I couldn't make out any features, it was just "some thing" hovering over the lamp, calling to me. Two distinct voices were running through my head -- one saying, "It's Daddy! It's Daddy!" and the other saying, "Devil! Devil!" I ran the hell away. I never saw it again.

Of course, nobody believed me, but God's truth, it happened.
 
2012-10-31 9:41:59 AM  

Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:


A classic. I remember a few other creepy ones... The slave cabin one comes to mind. Anyone have that one lying around somewhere?
 
2012-10-31 9:48:59 AM  
Never told anyone about this - always felt uncomfortable when I tried to, but reading about the sleep paralysis stories really struck a chord...

When I was about 21, I woke up in the middle of the night - a little before 3am - and was unable to move or make a sound. The feeling of dread was quite strong... it felt like I was getting the life sucked right out of me; but it lasted only a few seconds. I sat up like I was launched by a giant spring, full sweat, heart pounding. Not pleasant. I got up, went to the bathroom, calmed down, went back to sleep, nothing; other than I felt kinda tired the next day which I wrote off as a bad night's sleep.

The following night, I woke up again - it was almost to the minute from the night before - and again unable to move or make a sound, feeling like my life is being drained from me, only much stronger. This time it lasted longer, I'd say almost double the time. I distinctly remember fighting to yell and only near the end was I able to make these pitiful whimpering grunts. Then boom: released sat up full sweat.... same deal; only this time it took me quite a bit longer to get back to sleep, and the following day I felt like crap.

The third night... I woke again; same time, pinned to the bed and that feeling I'm being drained is incredibly strong, like it's killing me. I remember trying to scream - really scream - my back is arched: my shoulders are on the bed, with my butt in the air and I. can't. move.

Now for the weird(er) part. I have absolutely no idea why I said or did the following - I am soooo not a believer/dabbler in any of this 'stuff'. But for whatever reason, I sat up and shouted. Shouted: "In the name of the Light I command you to leave!" and it felt like this giant surge of energy flowed back into my body and I crashed limply to the bed.

Never experienced anything like it ever again. 
/Don't want to.
 
2012-10-31 9:52:56 AM  
On weekends during the high school years in the 1980s, my brother and his friends would go for very long drives on every country road or dirt track he could find in southern Illinois and Missouri to listen to road music and kill time. One afternoon, they were more than a half hour away from the nearest small town, driving down a single lane dirt road owned by the county, with tall corn stalks on either side of the road. A man in a dark black suit and dark sunglasses suddenly stepped out of the corn on the side of the road about 100 yards in front of them and just stood into the middle of the road, facing them. As they got closer, they saw that he held a shotgun in front of him pointing at the sky. Freaked out, but curious teens, they quickly slowed to a stop in front of him. The man looked closely at the car, then walked around to the open driver side window. He looked toward the back of the car and the teens looked in the rearview mirror to see two similarly dressed and armed men step out from corn fields on either side of the road just behind the car and just stood there behind the car. The man at the window leaned over and looked in the car and asked in a casual tone, "Do you kids know where you are?" The teen driver quickly said, "No, sir." The man instructed, "Then why don't you just turn around and drive away. Pretend you never saw us here." The man nodded to the other men, who then stepped back on either side of the road and the car backed up and turned around. The driver floored it and went back the way they came. In the rearview mirror they watched as the men stepped back onto the road until the car was nearly out of sight and then they stepped back into the cornfields. Over the next few weeks, the teens asked around about the area from the locals, but everyone else who had driven the road had no idea what they were talking about. To this day they have no idea what was going on.
 
2012-10-31 9:57:35 AM  
Some years ago, I drove up to New Orleans, Louisiana for The Warped Tour, a rock concert of tens of thousands, like Lollapalooza. I remember while Garbage sang Only Happy When it Rains, it rained.
The time I was there I visited Bourbon Street book stores, looking for a particular book for a friend. The book was banned in all stores. Some black magic store had a newspaper article why it was banned. I was trying to take a picture of the article when some woman confronted me about it. She was not happy and started saying all kinds of BS to which I just left the store. I think she literally cursing me -I just forgot about it.
On my 12 hour drive back home the next day, I switched places with my friend from the passenger seat. I may have been very road lagged, but I had a very euphoric feeling while he was driving. I felt we were going extremely fast and I just kept wanting to tell him to slow down. Anyway I did make it home that night, flopped on the bed, and while I stared at a wall where a light from the open door was cast, I fell into a weird state. Perhaps a dream while my eyes were open.
In a dreamy way, I saw a carousel of stages rotating with different acts quickly performing for my entertainment. The last was a guy with a guitar not happy the curtains were dropping and the carousel turning away from me. He was getting every last curse word in before his time was up, peeking from below the dropping curtain. His curse words with, "wait you Sobs!" were echoing in my head. Then the "final act" as I felt, came in with a faint snare drum roll like a snake's rattle. This "dream" was somewhat gone, and I was looking at the wall again.
The light shrunk into a round spotlight focused on the wall I was staring at. Then a forward facing silhouette slowly faded in. The shadow had a cocked wrist and in it, a huge gleaming hand gun slowly faded in -Much like a brand new desert eagle .50 cal. Only the gun was not a shadow, I could see color and reflection. The creature went from looking forward, at the same spot of the wall I was looking, to slowly looking down at where I was lying. This revealed a side profile of his head. It was not human, it had a long nose. Best description is it looked almost like Chester Cheetah, the Cheetohs chips mascot or whatever it is. It stared at me for a bit. His wrist with the gun slowly started following the same angle, pointing it towards me. I could still hear the snake rattle.
I woke up in the most terrified state I'd ever been in. I only attribute it to being a dream from road lag. I then remembered the incident from the "witch"
I freaked the fark out.
 
2012-10-31 9:58:36 AM  
 
2012-10-31 10:02:28 AM  
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I SAW SOMETHING NAUGH-STY IN THE WOODSHED!!
 
2012-10-31 10:05:46 AM  
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2012-10-31 10:06:35 AM  
Reposting from previous year's threads:

I saw it (him?) three times in my old Florida house.

I was lying in my bed wide awake. I had finished reading, my coffee was empty, and my girlfriend was asleep next to me. It was dark, but I saw something move in the shadows off to the left of my bed. It was as if a patch of darkness had just suddenly 'stood up'. I saw something about the size of a small boy, but seemed to be composed entirely of shadow. A chill immediately ran over me.

The shadow walked around to the foot of the bed,then turned it's head and looked at me. I saw two glimmering points of red light where eyes would be. I briefly got the image of a small child, lost and confused, and a little angry. It just stood there and looked at me for a moment. The head seemed to tilt a little, as if it didn't understand what it was seeing. Then it walked ahead around a corner, and into the master bathroom. The shower doors rattled.

When my girlfriend woke up hours later, I was still awake. She got up to use the restroom, and then wanted to know why I had showered in the middle of the night, and left the bathroom such a mess. There was water everywhere. I couldn't answer her, and I didn't tell her anything about what I had seen.

That was the first time I saw him.

***

Years passed before I saw him again. I was living alone now, same house, same bedroom. I had been happy before, but then she left me, and I was alone in bed this time. I guess I never completely felt alone though, because I still remembered that dark shape, and the red eyes.

One night I woke up and heard my next door neighbors fighting. I couldn't sleep because of them, so I just lay there, waiting for sleep to come to me again. I was looking at my stereo and listening to the CD I had put in to distract me (The soundtrack to the anime 'Akira'), when I saw him again. He rose up from the foot of my bed and looked around, almost curiously, as if he had been suddenly brought to a strange new place. The same chill hit me, as it had the time before, and just as I did before, I froze.

It appeared then that he noticed me, and he seemed more scared of me than I was of him. He moved quickly away (I hesitate to use the term 'ran' - he just ... moved), off out of my field of vision. I heard my door open. A minute later, my door creaked again, and he was back at the foot of my bed. He looked at me one more time, then dropped from view. He seemed sad, and confused.

I saw him one more time after that.

***

Years passed this time. I'm still in the same house, but now have a new woman living with me, my future wife. It had been so long since I had seen him that I had almost thought he was gone, but then one winter night I saw him again. This time he walked into view on my side of the bed, appearing from the corner of the room.

He stood there watching me. He looked at me, then at my fiancé, and back to me again. He seemed sad and alone, but he didn't vanish like he had in the past. It was as if he wanted something. I moved closer to my fiancé, and waved him towards us, and patted the open spot in the bed. I murmured sleepily "It's ok. You don't have to be alone". He seemed hesitant "Don't be afraid. It'll be alright". I felt him curl up there. He seemed happy, comforted - and then he was gone.

I never saw him again after that. I like to think he's happy now, moved on to where ever it is we go. I'm also not making up a word of this. Think of it what you will.

Dream? Hallucination? Accepting my Inner Child? Could be. It still freaked me out to no end.
 
2012-10-31 10:08:42 AM  
In all seriousness, I think I have seen 2 ghosts in my life. I'm an atheist, scientist, and general skeptic but I don't know how else to explain it. I saw them with my own eyes, granted the mind can play tricks on the senses. The first one was when I was around 13 years old. It was a Sunday morning (I know, not the creepiest time, but I'm not creating a story, I'm retelling events). I was awake away laying on my bed playing Sega Genesis. I look over beside me and there is the fuzzy, transparent figure of a woman screaming. She wasn't making a sound, it just looked like she was in agony. I could tell she was wearing lingerie and seemed to be in a lot of pain. She faded after about 5-10 seconds. I'm not really sure how long. It was such a shock, I froze. I ran into my living room in horror and wasn't able to sleep in my bed for almost a year after that. I found out later, that the bed frame we had bought used, was where some husband found out his wife was having an affair and shot her while she slept before church on a Sunday morning, There were still holes in the bed frame where the shotgun pellets had chipped the wood. Had I heard knew this beforehand, I would chalk the whole thing up to a child's mind but I had no idea the history of the bed until after I saw the apparition.

The second ghost was when I was 19. My room at the time had an attached bathroom. I would leave that light on so I could see to move around my cluttered room. I woke up one night early in the morning but before daylight. When I opened my eyes I saw the outline of someone standing in the bathroom doorway, but it didn't make sense because there was no shadow. As my eyes focused I saw that it was the transparent figure of a little girl. Maybe 9 or 10, she was clutching a teddy bear and reaching out to me. I don't remember what she was wearing, what I do remember is the look in her eyes. Sheer terror, it was like she was reaching out to me for help. There was no sound, but the expression on her face was screaming. I should have been scared out my mind but I found myself getting out of bed, and walking toward her instinctually, like when you see someone in danger and even though it puts you in danger you feel like you have to help them. I took a couple of steps out of bed and she faded away, still clutching the teddy bear with one hand and reaching out to me with the other. I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness after, like I have failed to save someone who needed help. I actually have a drawing of her tattooed on my thigh, in a cemetary clutching a flower instead of a bear. It's my way of letting her know that I still think about her, whatever she was.

Those are the two weirdest things that I have ever perceived. Whether they were ghosts, demons, or something my mind had conjured I'll never know. If people ask I tell them I don't believe in ghosts. I don't believe in an afterlife so how could there be spirits hanging around? But I do know that twice in my life, I have seen ghostly apparitions that I can't explain and in light of no other evidence, I can't say what they were.
 
2012-10-31 10:12:45 AM  
No real scary story, just that I live in an old house (150+ years old) that creaks like a mofo, and I know at least two people have died in the room I sleep in...

/CSB...
 
2012-10-31 10:14:52 AM  
A few more Halloween related items I put up:

Scary Bunnies

Black Eyed Kids

Self-Mummyfying Japanese Monks

As for personal stories, well, I did live through the 1970s...
 
2012-10-31 10:17:32 AM  
I was 17 years old, my parents were out of town and my younger brother was asleep a few rooms over. It was maybe 1am and I was laying in bed drifting to sleep when I heard noises in the closet. I heard someone DISTINCTLY cough and creaking from footsteps. At first, I thought maybe it was just the house, but went to go look anyways because let's face it, I couldn't go back to bed. I opened my closet and noticed that the small compartment door leading into the attic (I was on the second floor) had the shoe rack moved out from in front of it, allowing someone to use that door. Ok, that was weird, but maybe my Dad moved it to get to the water heater or something. Still, kind of freaked me out so I called my older brother and me and my younger brother went to his apartment to stay the night. Before we left, I put a whole bunch of shiat in front of the attic door and my closet door. Well, next day after school we all went over and I checked the closet door. Everything that was there had been moved. I would also like to mention that their house had an alarm system that was not deactivated. After that, we grabbed bats and searched the entire house and (with reluctance) opened the attic door - nothing.

Fast forward a month later, my mom and I were watching CSI (bonding time) and my dad was still at work and brothers were both gone. We (BOTH) heard sneezing and someone walking. We immediately looked at each other and go "What was that? Is dad here?" We heard some muffled sound like TALKING. We turned the TV off and listened. The moment we did this, the sound stopped as if it knew it (they) were being monitored. I locked the door we were in and grabbed a gun. The alarm was set, all doors were locked. My dad arrived at home soon after from work and we checked the house. Nothing, except the attic door was slightly ajar and everything in front of it was moved again.

Freaked me the hell out. I forgot about all of that and wasn't really concerned but I am 100% positive there is no way the stuff could have moved from the door and that what I (and my mom heard) were footsteps, coughing/sneezing and muffled voices.

WEIRDER TERRITORY:

The neighborhood we were in wasn't fully developed and there were still some open lots. On the back side of some of the lots are huge fields separating our neighborhood from the opposing one. The field has dense tree growth too. My friend from across the street and I were hitting golf balls and it would hit the fence or end up in one of the vacant lots. Well, we hit a couple a little too hard and they went sailing over the fence. Out of golf balls, we decided to hop the fence to get them and ventured into this field/forest thingy. Well, found the golf balls and something else. There was a flipped over car (older car windows busted out it had been there a while) and a couple of human remains (bones). WHAT THE FARK? So we looked around a little more and there was a little metal shack there also. Yeah, didn't want to go in there so we went home and called cops to report it. Turns out, that spot had been used for some heavy drug deals in the past and one must have gone wrong. Both skeletons appeared to have been bound. They found another body in the shack with a bullet through the head execution style.

After this event, we never heard anymore coughing/voices/footsteps and furniture was never moved from the attic door.
 
2012-10-31 10:19:07 AM  
I was on a film crew shooting an action movie on a desolate stretch of road between Albuquerque, NM and Amboy, CA. Out of nowhere, a car pulled up to the set, sat still for about a minute, then screeched around our set like a bat out of hell. Then the car sat still again for about a minute. When the crew started to approach the car, it disappeared into thin air!
 
2012-10-31 10:19:55 AM  

ArcadianRefugee: [SLEEP PARALYSIS] ...And all the things you hear about it are true. You can't move. There is something in the room with you. You can't see it, but you just know it's there. And there isn't a damned thing you can do about it.


You can't see it, but you can hear it. Oh yes, you definitely hear it. Them. There are lots of them. They laugh. They laugh and laugh because you are helpless. It is a bad laugh.


Thankfully, it doesn't tend to last long. I guess maybe your body realizes something's wrong and reboots. I dunno.

First time it happened was, to me, the classic 'abduction' scenario. I woke up on my back, and there were these things in the room with me. I couldn't see them, but I knew there were there, watching me dispassionately. I had know idea what was going on, but I was terrified. I tried to scream -- not that anyone would have heard me as I lived alone in a rather secluded area -- but I tried. This pathetically thin, almost wispy whine came out of my mouth and nothing else as I tried in vain to pinpoint what was in my room with me. Next morning, I woke up wondering "WTF?" and, knowing what sleep paralysis was, looked into it more deeply. Didn't happen again for nearly three months.

This time, I knew what was happening, but it was no less scary. Seems the feeling of dread accompanying the episode completely unrelated to the conscious feeling of dread that one might associate with being paralyzed. It's like you're not just falling, but something is also pushing you downward. So there I am, lying on my side, back to the edge of my bed, eyes wide with fright even though I know it's all in my head but still knowing every bit as much that something is behind me, kneeling beside the bed, fingers out-stretched and ever-so almost touching me on my back.


And sometimes you can feel it. One cold, bony finger touching my neck...

Oh yes, there will be silent screams.
 
2012-10-31 10:20:15 AM  

Yuri Futanari: This ones a little long but I first read it in one of the previous Fark years Halloween threads and really liked it.

----------------

Russian researchers in the late 1940s kept five people awake for fifteen days using an experimental gas based stimulant. They were kept in a sealed environment to carefully monitor their oxygen intake so the gas didn't kill them, since it was toxic in high concentrations. This was before closed circuit cameras so they had only microphones and 5 inch thick glass porthole sized windows into the chamber to monitor them. The chamber was stocked with books, cots to sleep on but no bedding, running water and toilet, and enough dried food to last all five for over a month.
The test subjects were political prisoners deemed enemies of the state during World War II.

Everything was fine for the first five days; the subjects hardly complained having been promised (falsely) that they would be freed if they submitted to the test and did not sleep for 30 days. Their conversations and activities were monitored and it was noted that they continued to talk about increasingly traumatic incidents in their past, and the general tone of their conversations took on a darker aspect after the 4 day mark.
After five days they started to complain about the circumstances and events that lead them to where they were and started to demonstrate severe paranoia. They stopped talking to each other and began alternately whispering to the microphones and one way mirrored portholes. Oddly they all seemed to think they could win the trust of the experimenters by turning over their comrades, the other subjects in captivity with them. At first the researchers suspected this was an effect of the gas itself...
After nine days the first of them started screaming. He ran the length of the chamber repeatedly yelling at the top of his lungs for 3 hours straight, he continued attempting to scream but was only able to produce occasional squeaks. The researchers postulated that ...


Citation?
 
2012-10-31 10:21:15 AM  
Mine is a story with three characters. Myself, Jessica, and the Other Thing.

I'm an Electrical Engineer. I don't believe in ghosts, goblins, devils, spirits, etc. Science.

Jessica is my bike. She's had... some upgrades from stock. I've been biking to work for more than 15 years and I teach spin. I'm not exactly "stock" myself, and as someone told me the other day, I have as many Tour de France wins as Lance Armstrong.

Last Hallowe'en I was biking home from work and it was dark. I have a lot of lights, so the darkness doesn't really bother me. In truth, I spend more on lights than most people spend on their bikes. (I actually carry spare lights to give out to people and jokingly say I'm the light fairy.) I avoid the roads whenever possible, and on Drunk-O-Ween that's an even more prudent idea. Part of my route takes me on a trail where the lighting is minimal. It was overcast, and some of the lights were out, so it was even darker than normal.

I listen to music when I bike too, on a speaker so I can hear what's going on around me. It bothers me when people wear earbuds. How can you not hear the cars coming up behind you? All that biking has given me pretty good situational awareness, I can hear the pitch of the cars' tires change when they're about to turn (so you brake); the slight increase in engine pitch when they're about to accelerate past you (so you shift right a little); always give the bigger guy the right of way.

So I'm biking along and something just felt... off. I could hear (but that's not quite right. Feel?) that there was something behind me. I checked my rear view but nothing was there. My rear light bathed the area in a soft red glow but that was it. I kept biking. The feeling was still there. My song got to the end as I turned around.

and saw It.

It wasn't in my mirror but it was there. It was made of smoke and darkness and a tendril was reaching out towards me. It pulled back when I looked at it, the strobe of my helmet lamp lighting up flash movements of some hideous darkness. It _wanted_ me.

Primus started playing. Appropriate.

Adrenaline boost on the bio-drive kicked in. I had to beat it home. I don't know how I knew I had to get to my house, but some part of me knew that. And damn it, I was going to get there with all the speed I had. Fast as my legs could go, I _flew_. Up to 40km, up to 50km, up to 65 kilometers an hour. On Jessica, an armoured commuter bike not built for racing.

All this time I couldn't check behind me. I couldn't see it in my mirror and I sure couldn't turn around at these speeds. Still, I could see where it kind of was because as we flew, the lights near it kept winking out. I got a surprising head start, but it was gaining. Home was still six minutes away.

Past intersections, mercifully devoid of cars as they crossed the trail, onto the main road back to my house, and now a downhill section. My legs were screaming, but all that spin. This is what it was all about.

Primus was ending.

One last intersection, I'd got a break on the downhill, but now it was uphill and across the highway. I couldn't just blast across; I'd be killed and what would the point be?

As soon as I stopped, it caught me, struck me down in the darkness. Judas Priest's "Hell Bent for Leather" came on. Appropriate.

I was lying there face down, exhausted, my legs were burnt. I wanted to see it, see what was going on. The darkness was overwhleming. No stars, no lights, just the flash of my front light. The main light was face down in the dirt. Ugh, I turned around to face what it was that was going to kill me, kill me right now. My helmet strobe hit it and it stopped.

One chance.

I dove for Jessica, grabbed the front light, and shone it at It. I burned a hole right through It's... chest and It fell to the ground. I spent a good five minutes shining my light around, making sure there were no hidden tendrils of smoke anywhere. The light fairy won.

That's when I realized why we don't hear stories about things that go bump in the night anymore. Our new lights destroy them. They can shake the incandescents and burn them out. A candle or a lantern can be blown out. But the sealed LED bulbs? They're powerless against them.

Three days later, I realized that's why it wanted me specifically. Back in school, most people took the few classes you have to take on lattice structure, but I really thought the quantum physics behind semiconductors was fascinating. I was never one for studying for the exam, and it reflected in my GPA. Not great, but I really understood all the material. Sure, I can't derive as well as some of the people I went to school with, but I still remember it all, all these years later. In other words, I know how to make an LED, and importantly how to make them stop working.

I carry a flashlight at all times and sleep with the lights on. Every light in my house is an LED bulb.

I've just realized that I loaned my helmet light to someone I barely know because her lights broke and they had to get sent to Germany for repair.
 
2012-10-31 10:24:51 AM  
Well seeing as its Halloween and elections are around the corner here is a story that just came to me:

Once there was a politician. He was a simple man who came from simple beginnings. Wasn't the tallest of men, or the most hansom, hadn't gone to the best of schools, but he had that voice... He always spoke smooth as silk, always engaging and comforting at the same time. He could win arguments easily, sway people to his ideas, leave challengers looking like fools as he spoke forcefully and compassionately about his cause.

He never spoke about it to his friends, even his most trusted. He didn't speak about it to his wife. He didn't even think about himself when he could avoid it. His voice wasn't his...It was his voice he knew, but the words always just came to him. Always at the tip of his tongue, always ready to give a speech, or fight an argument. Always the right words, always delivered perfectly. Always.

He rose quickly, first as a mayor, then state representative, finally a Senator in congress. Talking heads and other people of important positions began to talk about him running for president. He came to the day he needed to decide if he should run. He stared at himself in bathroom mirror for a long time, wrestling with the decision. He continued to stare for a long time, until he whispered..."Should I ?" He answered himself at once..."Yes!" And his course was set and he set about his biggest campaign yet.

He campaigned thru the primaries and won. A hard fight, but he had his voice and the right words. Now he had but one fight left and he was brimming with confidence. His opponent could give a good speech too, but not like him. But the other party had money and powerful connections at their disposal, so it had been a close race. Now it came down to a public debate and he and his supporters could smile smugly knowing they would have the upper hand.

The debate started and he rose to speak, but the words would not come, his voice coming out as a squeak. He stammered, he tripped over his own words. He refocused and concentrated on the words he so often gave before. He spoke but it was not like the times before. He wasn't the powerful orator, instead speaking like a nervous student giving his first speech in front of a crowd.

His supporters defended him, it was a fluke, they said. Surely everyone has an off day. But his enemies smelled blood and were quick to set upon him. He was all style over substance, they said. When it came to a real challenger he simply folded.

After the speech he got away from them all, leaving them behind as he took a few minutes to himself. He stood in front of a mirror in his private quarters and stared at himself in disbelief. "What happened?" he asked no one in particular.

He was completely astonished when he answered himself, "I gave you the words". He fell back, slapping his hand over his mouth. But the words just kept coming, his mouth just moving on it own.

"I gave you the words" he repeated to himself, "the words to inspire, to win arguments"
"I gave you the voice to deliver them, to sway people to you"

He tried to speak out, but his voice spoke on without his control or consent.

"I built you up, made you what you are today"

He finally managed to get control of his mouth. "Why??" he squeaked out.

He voice spoke back, but there was something else in it now, something sinister. "Built you up so high, but what of the man to bring you down?"

"A man who could do that would go on to do great things"

"Great and terrible things..."
 
2012-10-31 10:26:59 AM  

muck4doo: We had a filming crew for the story of Midas and Judas and Pat. The day started out right for our scene taking place at a cabin near a pond just north of Poughkeepsie NY. The scene involved the lovers triangle being found out, and instead of them being pissed off, Midas and Judas compete for the love of Pat. Judas declares his love by throwing 30 pieces of silver into the pond. Midas corresponds by turning the pond into gold. Pat responds by making them wonder if they are gay or not. Just then a ghost came up and bit Pat's privy parts off. It has haunted every one since.


Gay Sex Demon thread!
 
2012-10-31 10:28:16 AM  

echo5juliet: .


hey, not nearly as well organized as your story, but let me c(scary)sb you:

My wife and I were visiting family in houston. we decided to go out for a late night and have some fun, just the two of us.

well, we're having a good time, and then it was time to go home, around 2am. I don't know houston very well, so I start driving in the direction I think will get us to the highway... any highway at this point, we're somewhere in downtown houston, and all the streets change names. well, I finally catch a glimpse of a street I think I want, but I can't get to it, one way streets are preventing me.

so, I turn down an alley to cross over. immediately my wife and I realize this was a mistake. out from the woodworks, the fences, behind the alleys, something like a dozen or more figures emerge from the darkness. They're entering the alleyway, and they're blocking the way. The alley is pitch black, like we'd left the city for the country. I look back to go in reverse, but a white SUV pulls in behind us... I notice it only seconds before it turns off its lights and starts creeping towards us... people approaching us from either side, people further down the alley menacingly approaching, and it looks like someone is pulling something, maybe a dumpster, into the alley, into the way.

assuming that the worst thing would be to stop, I gun the engine and head straight down the alley, hoping to make it to the other side... hoping the people would get out of the way. If I just drove straight... drove true, they'd get out of the way. While I didn't want to get in trouble, I really didn't want to kill someone because I was scared.

well, they got out of the way. and we left the alley, drove to a well lit area. we lost the SUV.

I still don't know if I was the asshole who almost ran over people who were taking out the trash, or if I saved us from an unfortunate ending.  well, all that matters is that we were fine, and we didn't run anyone over.
 
2012-10-31 10:28:42 AM  

echo5juliet: FraggleStickCar: Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from...

This is a really old urban legend, have heard it plenty of times. Still creepy though and could have origins in truth, I suppose.

That is funny since I am the OP and it really happened. I was driving a maroon 1978 280Z. The 9mm was a Ruger P85. The Fiero was red. The woman in the road was wearing faded blue jeans and a pale pink shirt. The suitcase in the road closest to me was tan in color. The oddest thing about the picture in front of me was that the suitcases were open and the contents were scattered around far more evenly that you would think would happen in a real accident. That is what stood out, everything was too spread, that and there were no skid marks to explain why the Fiero was sideways in the street.

If it is a really old urban legend it must be because the same group pulled it on lots of people before they pulled it on me.


Reading this over, is it possible they were making a movie? And you happened to get in the way of their filming?
 
2012-10-31 10:30:30 AM  

Wolf892: That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."


The Commissar's in town?
 
2012-10-31 10:32:17 AM  
Sleep Paralysis
Once when around 16 years old I was up late playing video games with a friend. I was very sleepy and started to doze off on the couch. Something happened in our game (Ogre Battle SNES, for those who are awesome, I think we had just found a book of the dead or something ultra rare) and he got excited and said something to me. It woke me up, but not fully. I can remember seeing the game, seeing the light from the TV, and seeing him, but my eyes must have just been barely open slits. My mind was fully conscious, I was completely aware of everything going on. The terrifying thing was that I couldn't move any part of my body, despite concentration and effort. I tried to call out to my friend that something was wrong and the most I could manage was little whimpering noises that he couldn't hear from across the room. After what felt like an eternity, everything snapped back to normal and I was able to jolt out of my sleep paralysis and tell him what had happened. It was probably only around 30 seconds or so that I was actually unable to do anything, but man, scary.

Shadow Person
Around 14 years old I was outside swimming at night. There was a pool deck around the pool that was fairly wide, and we would play marco polo, sharks and minnows, and other pool games. General tom foolery was occurring in the pool, and at one point I went underwater, then popped up quickly. In the moment of brief sight that I had in between exiting the water and having to wipe water from my face, I looked out towards the deep end of the pool and saw two shadow legs running across the deck. Just legs and waist, or lower torso, nothing else... I quickly wiped my eyes and looked around, convinced that one of my friends had been out of water and my water blurred vision was mistaken, but everyone was accounted for inside the pool. I've been fascinated with shadow people ever since, but have never seen anything else like that.

Heavy Cat
More recently, I had been dealing with some insomnia due to stresses from work and school and had been up late working on a paper. Deciding that I wasn't feeling very well, I laid down to sleep around 3AM or so. We have four cats which come and go throughout the night, the only warning that you get before a cat jumps to the bed to sit on you is the tinkle of their bell. So around 3:30AM I feel the tell tale sag of the mattress next to me as our heavy cat jumps up. He tentatively puts a foot on me, thinking about sitting on my legs, but then thinks better of it and circles around my legs a few times instead. I was sleeping on a pretty thick pillow top mattress, and I'm used to the bed sagging a bit under the weight of various things and shifting my position, but after a few seconds of this I realize that even our twenty pound cat doesn't jostle me around this much normally. Thinking that he must be fighting with a toy, I roll over to smack him and he's not there. Instead I see two conical shaped depression in the mattress, approximately 3 feet apart from each other, and sinking what seemed like 12 inches or more INTO the mattress, as if something very heavy was standing on the bed. Going from "cat please let me sleep" to "wtfwtfwtf" in about a quarter of a second I leap out of bed and turn on the lights. By the time I look back, nothing strange going on with the bed, but the ceiling light is swinging from side to side, the room had tall ceilings, probably 12 feet. Totally freaked out and not getting back to bed anytime I soon, I tested my 220 lb weight on the mattress and barely sink in 4 inches. Also approximately 8 feet from surface of bed to the ceiling light which was left swaying. I determined that there were two options for what had occurred. One was that in my sleep deprived state I imagined the deep depressions in the bed, and then after turning on the lights, the ceiling fan started to sway the light fixture. Two was that something weighing about 600 pounds and around eight feet tall was standing on my bed jaunting around at 3AM. I chose to go with option one since the last thing I needed with my insomnia was that kind of nightmare fuel.

Happy Halloween!
 
2012-10-31 10:35:35 AM  
I've lived in three houses that could reliably be said to have ghosts in 'em.

Most of the stories from my parents current house are really mundane. Footsteps on floors were nobody is, a piano playing late at night, the sounds of people playing pool in the billiard room at 0230 (always 0230, dunno why), hearing a cabinet door close when nobody is in the kitchen, and occasionally seeing a figure walk around. Truth be told, you get used to it.

I will say that having your name said out of thin farking air a few feet in front of your face is farking unnerving.

Oh, except for my grandparents 200 year old house. You never get used to that place.
 
2012-10-31 10:39:39 AM  

Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. .



That's a fantastic story, but absolutely fake. There have been different versions of it floating around Reddit, 4Chan, etc. for years.
 
2012-10-31 10:39:56 AM  
This happened when my Dad was building our house 30-odd years ago.

Mom and Dad bought a chunk of land and Dad was building the house on it. He did much of the work himself, often sleeping there on weekends in a little camper parked off to the side.

The noises started soon after the walls went up and the doors were installed. Dad and some of the crew were in the kitchen talking when they heard the front door open and close, and footsteps walking briskly across the wooden floor. Dad called for whoever it was to come in--but no-one came. The front door was firmly closed.

The disturbances continued and Dad lost 2 crews; not one of them would work in the house day or night, for any amount of money. Finally the only ones left were Dad, his brother and friend, and Ralph. Ralph was an alcoholic, but mostly functional. He'd bought a house from Dad and was helping with the construction to help pay for it. Ralph would often stay over in the camper, where, Dad says, no matter that it was summer, no matter if he pulled the covers over his head, there was always a cold draft on the back of his neck.

The last time my uncle and his friend worked on the house they were in the laundry room, working on the floor, The door to the garage kept slamming open and closed, though it never moved, and they finally went upstairs to work on the hallway when they couldn't stand it anymore. The front door opened and closed and the brisk footsteps walked across the living room. They ignored it since it was a daily occurrence by that point. This time, however, the steps stopped at the foot of the stairway. There was a creak on the bottom step, then the next.

They stopped running when they reached the church a mile away.

Now it was just Dad and Ralph. One night just after sunset they were walking to the camper when they heard a horrible scream from the woods out back of the house. Dad's a hunter and has been all over the US and he says he'd never heard anything like that and never wants to again, thank you very much. He and Ralph tore ass to the camper where they locked the doors and windows and lay awake all night with their guns at the ready. They didn't hear it again.

About a month later Ralph was taking a bath and drinking in his new house about 4 hours away. He passed out and drowned in the tub.

The disturbances stopped from that moment on. We moved in in 1980, and my parent still live there. We've had dogs, cats, and gerbils and there's never been a sign of anything odd.

Dad swears it all happened and so does my uncle when he's still talking to us.
 
2012-10-31 10:40:50 AM  
All right. I haven't finished the thread yet but I've read enough to want to share my most recent, unexplained experience.

We had just exited the school with the crowd after our kids' winter concert. Our son and daughter were walking a little ahead of my husband and myself. I heard a dog coming up behind me at a pretty fast pace. I could hear his toenails clicking the sidewalk and I could hear the jingle of his tags on his collar. When I heard him very close behind me I stepped toward my husband to give the dog room to go around me. I looked down at him as he passed me and saw a smaller dog that looked like a black Pomeranian mix or such. I watched him close in on my daughter, pass her, cut over in front of her and then just disappear. *Poof* No dog.

When we got to the car I asked the kids if they saw the dog. Nope. Neither did the husband. None of the strangers around us had reacted to it. Nothing. It's been a couple of years, but I can still picture the dog pretty clearly.
 
2012-10-31 10:42:39 AM  

farkerintx: True story, this happened to me, about 20 years ago.

I was about 18, a girl I knew in college introduced me to Ouija board one night, it was your store-bought parker bros. version...we played with it, it wasn't that weird because everyone was suspicious of each other about who was moving the planchette. Just a TOY I thought...but interesting at the least. Maybe even a little spooky.

I did a little reading and found out that if you make your own, it's more powerful, better connection to the spirit world, blah blah blah, I wasn't taking this thing seriously, but I was excited by the creepy factor, and how many other people DID take it seriously.

So, one night in October (couple of weeks before Halloween) I called an old girlfriend, "Jenny", and we got to talking (We were reduced to good friends at the time. She was dating some guy named "Patrick" and I had other girls on my mind). We were both a bit bored, so I invited her over. I was living in the apartment above my parents garage, it wasn't much, but it was my "own" place. I told her about my new found knowledge and said I'd make a ouija board to keep us entertained. She was reluctant, but I assured her it was "just a toy" and parker brothers makes these things. "Nothing to worry about, it can't hurt you, it'll be fun"

She had a 20 mile span to cover so I had some time. The board was easy to make, just a piece of 18" x 24" drywall, and I drew the letters and symbols on it with a sharpie. To make the planchette I cut a corner off a pine board and drilled a hole in the middle. Oila~ we had board and were ready to contact Elvis.

A couple of things i told her that I read about these things...(from the box in the store or a movie, I don't know.)

Don't take your hands off the board once you've started. If you do, you could open a "door"
Don't stop the "session" without saying "goodbye", if you do, you could open a "door"
Spirits Lie, can't spell, don't use it alone, and don't burn it near your house.

Now, on to the ...


Ja oui? It sounds like you might have.
 
2012-10-31 10:44:17 AM  
I love this Fark tradition.

Here is some Halloween reading. Sorry if someone else already posted any of them. Got to get to work - no time to check right now.

His Face All Red

The Enigma of Amigara Fault
Translated from Japanese: read panels right to left.

The Dionaea House

Ted's Caving Page

The Dibbuk Box
 
2012-10-31 10:45:21 AM  
MARY- A HALLOWEEN STORY
Ressurection Mary. With a Twist.....

Mary and Denny were finishing the last of the pizza as they sat on the couch in front of the TV.
"Wow! Is that true?," Mary asked.
"Supposed to be. You know, it happened right down the road from here."
She turned to him, "What?"
"Yeah," Denny continued, "the story of Resurrection Mary happened a couple of miles down Archer. Over by Willow Springs."
"That's creepy."she shivered, "So, was she killed after leaving the dance?"
"I guess," he answered, "but the story gets really interesting when she gets picked up hitch hiking. It's happened more than once supposedly. The guy picks her up, She doesn't say much, but as he drives past Resurrection Cemetery she tells him to stop. Then, she jumps out and runs up to the gate and vanishes!"
Denny leaned close to Mary and spoke in a quiet voice as her expression showed that she was becoming more and more intrigued, and genuinely frightened.
" He later finds out that she's actually been dead for years. Killed as she was hitchhiking on Archer Avenue."
She shivered as he finished.
"And...She's still seen out there hitchhiking?"
"To this day... usually near Halloween." He looked over his shoulder at the wall calendar," only a couple of weeks away."
"Stop it. You're trying to scare me!," she punched his arm.
Denny laughed as he looked in vain for another piece of pizza, and a thought struck him.
"You know what would be funny?"
"What?" she asked dubiously.
"Well, people come out here hoping to see the ghost of Mary hitch-hiking."
"Yeah, so?"
"Maybe they should see her.
"What?"
"You," he looked at her, "You could do it."
"What!"
"Yeah," he explained, " you find an old prom dress and we go down to where the old Willobrook dance hall was...And you hitch-hike. I'll stay parked somewhere nearby so when someone stops you can run over and we take off."
" I don't know..." she mumbled.
"Yeah," he said, " I can record it, C'mon, it'll be funny to scare the crap out of a couple of people. That's what Halloween is for."
"Well," she eyed him, "I'll think about it."

The drive from Denny's apartment on 79th Street to the old Willowbrook dance hall was only a few minutes, so they had waited until dusk to leave. As the sun was setting Denny opened the car door for Mary as she struggled with the ruffled skirt to get into the car.
"Man," he said, " You look perfect."
"Yeah," she smotthed the dress out, "it was my Great Aunt's from the 1930s."
" The bright white ought to stick out just right."
She looked at him, "I',m not too sure about this, it's kind of creepy."
"Don't you chicken out now. We're just trying to scare some jerks. Most of the people out there tonight are just out-of-towners looking for a thrill. Let's give it to 'em."
"OK, when you put it like that."
They drove toward Archer and through the quiet town of Willow Springs, a pretty village built on a hill that sloped down to the old I&M canal. A forest preserve surrounds most of the town giving it the feel of an alpine village. Drastically different than the bungalows of the nearby south west suburbs of Chicago.
"OK," Denny said as he pulled the car into aq lot near a large building that was emblazoned with a large sign declaring itself as the 'Hall of a Thousand Bargains'.
" This ought to be good." He looked around at the layout, "You stand over near the steet light. It's kinda dim so you'll look even more like a ghost."
Mary began to apply some make-up to whiten her face and then, using a dark shade around her eyes. The final touch was the dark, dark, red lipstick that gave her an appearance of someone who had been dead for a while at least.
"Where will you park?" she asked as she touched up her ghostly countenance.
"I'll be over here watching. If anyone gives you any trouble I'll turn on my lights. I'll be there in a second."
"OK, see you soon." she said.
"Yeah," he smiled, "see you in Hell."
"Real funny," she slammed the car door and walked to the barely illuminated spot near the road."
She smoothed her dress one more time and put out her thumb.
Within minutes a car began to approach. The headlights hit Mary and seemingly her visage had the desired effect. The driver hit the brakes and the car skidded. By the time the car backed up, Mary had hidden from view behind some bushes just off of the road. This pattern continued for a couple of hours, one car after another trying to stop suddenly as Mary would hide nearby.
At about 11:30 Mary returned to the car.
"Let's go," she said, "This is getting old."
Denny was beaming, " I got some great video! Did you see that one guy in the Mercedes? He almost hit a tree! There are probably gonna be a bunch of 'ghost sightings' called into the news tonight!"
"Yeah, I could see his face. He looked freaked out!"
Well," Denny checked the time, "it's almost midnight. Let's try a couple more then we'll head back to the apartment."
"OK." she laughed.
"What?" he asked.
"You're like some pimp for a ghost!"
" She closed the door and walked to the spot that she'd stood before.
Denny turned on the video and suddenly felt a chill.
"Man," he said to himself, "The temperature can sure change fast this time of year."
Mary pulled the thin sweater closed as watched for the next car.
"Brrr, this is too much." She began to go the car when she saw two headlights coming through the fog that was developing.
"This is too perfect. I'll try one more."
She waited until the car, or pick-up truck more accurately, would be just in view. She stepped into the light. The truck though, had already begun to slow down. It stopped right next to the spot that she was standing. She looked at the driver. He was maybe 20 and he was as oddly dressed as she was.
She tried to turn and run to Denny and the waiting car, but something, maybe curiosity, kept her from fleeing. The passenger door opened slowly, only after the dorr was open did she realize that the driver hadn't even touched the door. She felt a rush of cold air from the truck.
"How did you do that?" she heard herself say.
"Please," he spoke in a voice that seemed to be something that she heard yet it was also deep in her mind. "Get in."
She felt paralyzed with fear yet she slowly began to step to the battered looking truck.
"I.....I don't want to..." she managed to stammer.
"I've come for you," he 'said'.
'But I don't know you," She looked at him and saw a very sad looking young man. He had much the same pallor that she did yet he seemed to have a slight glow about him. Maybe some black-light trick. She felt another chill as she sat in the passenger seat. She looked for but found no seat-belts. The truck began to move as the door closed, again...all by itself.
"But...." she stammered, "I can't go anywhere..."

Denny couldn't believe what he was seeing. The truck seemed to come from nowhere. It stopped next to Mary. He put the camera on the dashboard and turned the ignition key.
Rrrrrrrrrr... the car protested.
"Damn!" It wouldn't start...rrrrrrrrr...The pickup truck door opened.
"Oh shiat, what the hell...."
Rrrrrrrrrr...vroom!! Iy started. He hit the headlights and saw Mary getting into the truck which then pulled away.
"No...Don't get in!" she couldn't hear him.
"What the Ffffff." He began driving toward the truck which had entered the roadway.
"Oh shiat!" He floored it and followed the truck.

Mary couldn't take her eyes off of the driver.
"Who are you?"
"I can't believe that you don't know. I've waited for you for so long."
"For me?" Mary began to seriously consider that this guy could be crazy, almost as crazy as she was for getting into the truck.
"Yes Mary."
"Look my name is Mary but you've got the right one."
" Oh yes. That smile. That beautiful dress, there can be no mistake." He stared straight ahead.
"Look Mister, my boyfriend was watching and he's going to be following us. He'll probably kill you for kidnapping me!"
"I'm taking you home."
"What," she screamed at him, "the hell are you talking about? I do NOT know you!"
"A broken heart tends to forget things. Our love is real though. You can't have forgotten that?"
He was still staring coldly. He slowly turned and reached one hand over to touch her hand. A cold, clammy, shiver eminated from the spot he had touched.
"No, wait," she said, "This can't be!"
"Yes it is. You've waited so long for me. Your wait is over."
"But..." she suddenly realize that this guy thought that she was really.... "Oh dear lord...."

Denny did his best to keep up. As the truck drove through the wooded area he noticed a stoplight change from yellow to red. The truck wasn't slowing down. He was keeping pace with them and he noticed that they were moving at 60 MPH. The truck was fast approaching the intersection.
"Oh my God!" Denny must have blinked for a moment because in an instant the truck had passed the busy intersection. It looked as if it had actually gone through a car.
"Jesus!", he screamed, " This can't be happening!"
As he approached the same intersection he decided that he would have to run the light. Sitting just off of the intersection a police officer saw Denny speeding towards the intersection.
"He's not even slowing down." the cop mumbled to himself. He radioed in....
"Unit in pursuit of a red, late model Nissan. Over the limit and disobeying traffic signals. Heading north on Archer through Willow Springs." He flipped on the lights and siren and was fast in pursuit of Denny.
Two cars nearly hit the curb as Denny zipped in front of them, flashing his headlights and honking his horn. In his rear-view mirror he noticed the flashing red and blue lights of the police.
"Never thought that I'd be glad to be chased by a cop."
The truck was speeding up as it neared another intersection, blowing another red light. Denny did the same, at least this time there was no cross traffic.
The cop was gaining, but he was slowed by another car that entered the intersection after Denny had sped through it. The truck quickly sped out of the small town toward the cemetery ahead.

Mary was terrified.
"Why are you doing this?", she asked the stranger.
"To end our pain."
"Mister. You're nuts! Let me out of here right now!"
"Soon..." was all he said.
She looked ahead as the truck was about to blow yet another red light and saw the backed up traffic in the crossway.
"Oh my God!" she screamed and covered her eyes. When she looked they had driven through the intersection.
"Oh....,"she said, "You're not real."
"I'm as real as eternity."
"Please, let me go."
"Relax, You're almost home. You'll never have to wander again....and I'll be with you forever. I'm so sorry that I left you at the dance hall. I've suffered for that. Now...We can both rest."
She looked ahead and saw Resurrection Cemetery ahead. The truck was swerving towards the gate.
"Slow down," Mary screamed, "please slow down!"

Denny was catching up to the truck as it blew the last intersection.
"Oh man, this is bad."
By now the lone police car following Denny had several squad cars joining the chase. He carefully negotiated the last intersection, if that's possible at 60 MPH, as he saw the truck nearing the cemetery gates.
" He's not stopping!" The truck vanished into the cemetery with a flash of blinding white light. Denny hit his brakes and skidded. His car hit the concrete gate pillar and crumpled. Denny was thrown forward and after feeling a sharp pain blacked out.


Two Cook County Detectives walked towards the hospital room that that was being guarded by a single uniformed officer.
"Is he awake?"
"Yeah," the cop answered, "He's still babbling that shiat about Mary though."
"Man," said the taller detective, " I guess eventually you hear everything."
They entered the room. Denny lay in the bed his left leg and arm in casts.
"Dennis Anderson?"
"Yes." he answered, " Did you find her? I tried to stop him... I chased them..."
"Chased who? The cops didn't see anybody!"
The detectives looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
"Enough bullshiat. You're under arrest for the kidnapping and murder of Mary-Ellen Brown. You have a right to remain sil.."
"Damn it! I know my rights. But you've got it all wrong! Did you check the video I made? She's on the recording!"
"We looked at your recording. She's there alright, and then it shuts off and goes blank. You obviously didn't want to tape her murder!"
"No," Denny begged, " please.... You've got it all wrong.."
"Well kid," the stockier detective said, " Don't worry. Where you're goung, everybody's innocent. Just ask 'em!" They laughed.
Denny fell back onto his pillow, tears swelling in his eyes. The TV was on.... Denny could hear...
"So Happy Halloween from Willow Springs, Illinois where there were numerous sightings last night of our most famous ghost, Resurrection Mary. Happy Halloween Mary...Where ever you are.
 
2012-10-31 10:47:23 AM  
My father in law died about six months before I got pregnant with my son, his first grandchild. Pretty much right after he was born, we started hearing footsteps in his room, and we'd find him tucked in when neither one of us had done it, or if we couldn't find one of his stuffed animals when we put him to bed, it would somehow be in his crib when we got him in the morning. He would throw his pacifier out of the crib, and I'd go in to get it and it would be in his mouth.

Once, when he was about six weeks old, my husband came home from work and I asked him to take Henry (our son) so I could have a break. He asked to just get something to eat first, and I said fine, and took Henry into the office. The chair in there rocks, so I was sitting there, facing away from the door, he fell asleep, and I had my eyes closed. I felt someone walk into the room and put their hand on the back of the chair. Naturally I thought it was my husband, and I think he's going to think we're asleep and tiptoe out so he doesn't have to take his turn with the baby. I sit there until I feel him start to walk away, then I spin around and am ready to bust him, but no one is there. I go out to the living room and he's sitting on the couch eating. Hadn't been in the room. Then I realized I'd smelled cigarette smoke, and niether of us smoke-but my father in law did.

Similar stuff kept happening, and one day when Henry was maybe 4 months old I had him in his exersaucer. I heard footsteps, smelled cigarette smoke, and Henry started looking up and waving and laughing at someone. I said "Wayne, we miss you, and you can come see Henry any time, just please don't scare him." Then I heard a man's cough, in the room with me. I was home alone.

It's kind of nice, really.
 
2012-10-31 10:50:24 AM  
Holy crap, my first greenlight! Hold me, I'm scared.
 
2012-10-31 10:50:55 AM  
I have two stories, one from my mom and one from myself.
Note: Mom is a no BS child of German immigrants and my father is Croatian. They did not raise me to believe in fantastical stuff. Mom's is from an e-mail forever ago.

1. We were recently married and broke. Your dad was a dispatcher at the PD and worked at a funeral home too. We lived in the apartment behind the funeral home. One night, your dad went to work and I was alone. Only six of us had keys to the building. I was in the living room when I heard someone knocking on the back door of the apartment. I went to the door and asked "who is it?" No one answered, so I figured it was someone being cute.

A bit later, it happened again, but as I'm going to the door, it stops. It immediately started up at the other end of the funeral home. This time it's louder and panicky. I got to the bay and saw the metal door bending like a gorilla was trying to get in. I ran back to the apartment and called your dad.

He was trying to calm me down when the apartment door starts being hit like the other door. I don't think he believed me until he heard it himself. It seemed like every cop on duty showed up and they looked EVERYWHERE but found nothing. Tommy, your dad's friend on the job, took Polaroids of the door when he got there. He showed them to us after we'd moved into our house. There was no damage to the door: no dents or marks where the door had been hit. To this day, I can't explain it.

After they left, I stayed up and waited on your dad. He and Tommy called the rest of the staff to ask if they had done it, but the director was out of town, the secretary was a little old lady and the two other staff members were at dinner with their families when it happened. We never had anything happen like that again, but I heard noises and sounds there during the day and night that I cannot explain.

2. I was in grad school, living in another town. I had recently learned my downstairs neighbor was a drug dealer who had rednecks looking for him. I saw two of them almost kicking his door in, yelling "Yuuu cain't hide fur-eva!! Yuuu owe Big Tim BIG TIME muthafarka!" Needless to say, I was late for my class that day.

I had to work the next day (Saturday). About 9:30pm or so, I'm sitting on the couch when I hear our front door rattling. I look over and see the doorknob shaking like someone wants in. I looked through the peep hole, assuming I would find the rednecks from earlier. Nothing.

I sit back down and I hear a kazoo sound off in the apartment. It was deafening. Cat heard it too; she took off and hid. I had this feeling like I was underwater (panic attack?) and I'm getting pretty freaked out as I'm alone. Finally, the Slavic/Teutonic rage kicks in and I yell, "What the fark?! If you want the farking drug dealer, he's down farking stairs!!! In the name of God, leave me the FARK ALONE!!!!!" I followed up with some Croatian insults.

The underwater sensation slowly fades and I think WTF? Maybe 30 seconds after I start feeling normal, I hear a BOOM like a damn bomb went off downstairs. Across-the-breezeway neighbor calls asking "What was that?!" We go downstairs, expecting chaos, but find a dark apartment. Breezeway neighbor points to the bedroom window and says "What the..?" The blinds were pulled back from the bedroom window like someone wanted a better look outside, but we couldn't see anything. I haul back upstairs and lock the door. I have no idea what they came back to, and frankly I don't want to know.

I found out later the girlfriend claimed to be a witch and opened a "door" she didn't close. I asked a Wiccan friend what was up. Friend says people who are new often do that and don't know how to "fix it." Friend asks, "did you believe yelling would help?" I said, "I was uber-pissed." She smiles. Drug dealer got busted not long after and girlfriend was committed (seriously, I watched them take her away from my kitchen window). Never heard any weird noises again.

Wow. That was a Tolstoy. Happy Halloween to all!
 
2012-10-31 10:55:01 AM  
I also used to have really bad sleep paralysis episodes and nightmares. I asked a shaman to clear me, and I haven't had them since. Might just be a placebo thing but I'm glad they're gone, they were terrifying.
 
2012-10-31 10:55:14 AM  

BolshyGreatYarblocks: Wolf892: That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."

The Commissar's in town?


Oh oh
 
2012-10-31 10:57:02 AM  
Posted these before, I used to see a ton of stuff when I was like 8 or 9 but I associate that with an over-active imagination and pent up psychological issues. However, these are things that happened when I was fully awake and not too long ago.

Hanging out at my friends trailer when I was 16 or so, surfing the net (the awesome 1998 net, 56k biatches!), he has an annoying little brother who's constantly bothering him about something or another. We're both sitting there, house is really quiet (it usually is), when his brother calls his name, as usual. He calls back, "what?"; no response. He's like, "Did my brother just call me?" and I confirmed he did. He says that as far as he knew his parents and brother had gone out for awhile, they left at least an hour ago. So we're both kind of creeped out at this point. We get up together and investigate, no one home, nothing amiss. We just went back to his room, talking about how freaky it is. When his bro came home with his parents we told him about how we swore we heard his voice calling his big bro. Seriously can't explain this one. It was clear as day, and we BOTH heard it. Yet, no one was home. Nothing weird had happened before or since.

Second story ended up having an explanation. Living with my girlfriend and her brother at this point (think I'm like 22). I'm sitting at my desk with her brother surfing the internet (I do this a lot...don't I?) at like 3am, watching Youtube videos or some such when out of the corner of my eye the coke can on the desk moves about an inch. I attribute it to it being late, and me being tired. Then her bro asks, "Did that Coke can just move?" I reply, "I wasn't going to say anything about that." Kind of freaked me out, but combined with nothing else freaky (though her bro swears he saw a couch cushion move in and out once) kind of shrugged it off. A year or two later I set down a sweaty drink and right when I'm watching it moves an inch or two, this time I investigate and it seems like the desk is at a slight angle and if you set a drink down at JUST the right spot and some condensation gets under it, it will move. Seems like something obvious, but outside of that can one night it had never happened before or since other than the time it happened in plain day a year or two later.

Also, for something really scary; note: this happened when I was like 9 years old and living in an apartment that I swore was haunted. I was a huge ghost/ufo/cryptozoology nut something I kind of grew out of as I got older. Came home with my family from a mall trip went to my closet to put some new toy or some such away, turn around and my younger sister is standing right in back of me, she looks sad. I say, "Hey M-" before I can even finish she turns around and walks straight into and through the wall. Still freaks me out thinking about it, but as my sister was alive and well in another room, I attribute it to me being batshiat insane at that age, and/or a spooky ghost took the form of my sister or looked like my sister? I don't know. I don't really tell people that story, because really I saw all kinds of stuff at that apartment. My sister and mom said they never saw/heard anything. I think it was all just an over-active imagination.
 
2012-10-31 10:58:14 AM  

Old Man Winter: This apparently real tale has bugged me since I heard it.

Train Crash Victim's Cell Phone Make Calls


In the days after my Mom died suddenly, I got three calls from unknown numbers. I let the machine pick up, and there was heavy static with a quality I've not heard before or since. I can't really describe it - just... odd. And over it was an almost-voice, very echoey, that I couldn't quite make out. Of course there could be a perfectly logical explanation. Solar storms or some such. It's just that there were three calls like that right after she died, and never again.
 
2012-10-31 11:00:50 AM  
Aside from my usual sleeping paralysis which I cannot convey how terrifying it is even though I know what is happening time and time again, my mom told me this story of me when I was 5:

She walked by my bedroom around 10:00 (was asleep for an hour) and heard me crying. She said I had a normal day so she peaked in just to ask me what was wrong. I was sitting up balling my eyes out and when she sat down at my side and asked "what's wrong" I exclaimed "IT'S GOING TO HAPPEN AGAIN."

'What is?"

"I'm going to grow up, I'm going to marry someone. I'm going to have kids and grow old. THEN I'M GOING TO LOSE IT ALL, AGAIN. EVERYONE. I'm going to lose everyone I love and not see them ever again. I'm going to lose you, dad, (brother's name), (pet's name), granny, EVERYONE. WHY? It's so unfair."

"Everything is going to be fine"

"NO IT WON'T BE"


I didn't say anything else after that and kept crying until I went asleep silently. Next day I was good as new, and I can only remember the incident faintly. I just remember crying uncontrollably one night, which crying as a whole was rare for me because I was a really happy kid who played with lego until I fell asleep. The only reason she brought it up was because there was an episode of Oprah or Dr. Phil were they interviewed people who experienced something like this with their young children.

I didn't pluck this one off the internet and I'm not making it up. There is no value in creepy stories to me unless they come from a sincere teller who speaks of an experience. I think previous lives is a cool concept, but all that being said I'm not sure I believe it. Still, I wouldn't have just said all of that stuff. The only things that scared me or provoked my imagination when I was a kid were aliens and spiders.
 
2012-10-31 11:02:39 AM  
Beer 'fridge

aromacucina.typepad.comView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 11:03:31 AM  

blatz514: Beer 'fridge

[aromacucina.typepad.com image 459x315]


Hold me.
 
2012-10-31 11:04:36 AM  
This is a story that involves a dream, the eve of a surgery that I was about to have, and a house that my father would later move out of soon after.

So when I was little, I would have ear-aches/infections all the time. I had ear-tubes for the greater part of my young childhood life. My father lived in a house we were renting at the time and it would always give me the creeps for whatever reason. I don't know, I just didn't like being in the house. Anyway, I was scheduled to have my ear-tube removed, and the night before I had them removed, I had a dream. I'll never forget this dream, it was so vivid and so realistic. A little about the house and potential creep factor about it: The house is located on Lookout Mountain, on the Tennessee Side, very close to Point Park and several sites where Native Americans used to live.

The dream involved my fathers house - I was walking through it and it was nighttime. So I'm walking casually throughout the house, and notice a slight glow to the front door. Now, the front door had windows on either side and as I got closer, the glow was becoming far brighter and almost seemed like someone was beaming their car lights into the house. Well, being a a kid, I begin to walk to the front door and begin to open it.

Instead of the lights being something simple like headlights, it was a floating, glowing skull. It was just floating there for a moment and I stood on the stoop of our door, mildly freaking out at seeing this sight before my eyes. The skull hasn't affixed its gaze on me until a few seconds later, at which point, when it does it opens its mouth. It simply speaks one word, one simple word that just so happened to be my name. Upon speaking my name, I begin falling into a void of darkness and absolute dread. All sound, good in the world, and everything was deafened by this pit - my vain attempts to scream were muffled by this awful place.

I later wake up screaming, having experienced one of the most terrifying moments I have ever been through - my father comes rushing to my aid and attempts to calm me.

A few hours later I was to be put on the operating table to have my ear tubes taken out; I wanted nothing to do with this surgery and sincerely wished that my father could have been in the operating room with me at the time, since I had to be put back to sleep for the surgery to proceed.

I had no dreams during the surgery, thankfully. I wake up and my father is sitting in a chair beside my bed in the hospital. Beaming with a smile and gets up and hugs me.

About a few months later, my dad has a creepy dream involving something vaguely similar and moves out of the house.
 
2012-10-31 11:08:52 AM  
Ok, here's mine. Back in 2001, I moved with my ex-wife (thank god she's my ex-wife) into an old Studebaker exec. home in downtown South Bend, IN. Cool house, built in 1902, lot of history to the house. The woman I bought the home from told me that she had bought it from a family after the wife had died. She actually passed away in the second floor library after a prolonged fight with cancer. Prior to getting sick she was a nature lover and had quite the garden and plant life in the backyard. The woman I bought the house from had severe allergies, so she never went outside and basically let the backyard go to hell. Well, I ended up fencing the entire backyard in for my dogs and cleaned everything up and put it back to the way it originally had been to the best of my abilities.

We hadn't been in the house for maybe a couple of months, when we started noticing that animals of all types were getting into the backyard (skunks, rabbits, deer, ducks, geese, raccoons, you name it). Now while that in and of itself isn't that strange, it kind of is when you have a 7 foot chainlink fence surrounding the yard and three Jack Russells ruling the area, and the backyard was small. The animals would keep coming and if the dogs were out the animals paid the price (except the skunks, those got ugly)

I just kept chasing them out and didn't think much about it. Then it began inside. The first time was when I opened the master bedroom closet and three birds flew out (middle of the house on the second floor, and it was the middle of winter). Then we started having squirrels and chipmunks randomnly dart through the first floor. The bats were fun too. Especially when you are sitting down in a dark livingroom watching a movie. Infestations of beetles in the basement in the weight room was a lot of fun also.

I still didn't put much stock into it, even when I would catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Then there was the event which freaked me out. We were in bed and it was around 2 in the morning. There was a huge crashing sound downstairs that woke us both up, as well as the dogs. This was followed by the sound of something breaking. I got up, told my wife to lock the door after me. I grabbed my 9mm from the dresser and walked out of the room telling her to call 911 if she hears anything from me. First the comical part of the story. I shut the bedroom door, chambered a round, and for the first time in my handling a gun (my dad started teaching me to shoot when I was 5), the gun not only chambered a round, but simultaneously discharged it, missing my foot by literally half an inch. I screamed to my wife to not call 911 (yet), cleared my head and went downstairs figuring that whoever was in the house would be rapidly departing, since not only will I probably shoot them, but I had alreadly started with my wrath by shooting the house.

I went downstairs, flipped all the lights on and nothing. Doors were locked from the inside, windows the same. I checked every inch of that house and there wasn't a thing out of place. Nothing had shifted, tipped over, nothing. I had heard settling noises before or little things that you can't tell where they are coming from, but the noises that night were loud enough and distinct enough to make me grab my gun.

Never did figure out what it was, but after my wife and I divorced, I was moving stuff out and was chatting with the neighbor. She told me that the woman who had passed away in the house was some form of self-practicing wiccan (she didn't use that exact tem, I can't remember what she called it, but that is the closest I can come to it). Weird house
 
2012-10-31 11:10:11 AM  
In the history of Halloween, nobody has ever found a razor blade in their apple. I'm not even sure anybody ever got an apple.
 
2012-10-31 11:10:43 AM  
This really happened about 20 years ago when I lived in Tiline, Ky. It's a small town in the middle of trees and drunks. A bunch of us went out on Halloween for our annual ghost hunt. They always ended up with us drunk and passing out in the car. After another Halloween with no scares, we decided to park at a small cemetery that is seriously in the middle of no where. Rosemarry? I can't recall the name now.

After hours of drinking and acting like dumb teens, we all heard something in the woods. My friend and I walked to the edge of the woods and started yelling, pretending to be brave in front of the girls. Suddenly, a chainsaw cranks up in the woods and was coming our way. We left the coolers and everything. We left screaming at the top of our lungs and almost wrecked our cars trying to make it out on the old dirt road.

A week later, dad brought back my coolers. He was laughing his ass off. He just kept shaking his head till he finally stopped laughing long enough to talk

"I guess you didn't know Shawn Harmless bought a new house did you? He lives behind Rosemarry now. He wanted me to thank you for the laughs, you bunch of dumb drunks."

Nobody let us forget that for years.
 
2012-10-31 11:12:00 AM  

fugeeface: muck4doo: fugeeface: About 12 years ago, I lived with in San Jose with my now ex wife. We went out one evening going somewhere in Los Gatos (I don't remember where we were headed). I was driving and she was in the passenger seat. I had taken a couple of wrong turns and we were a bit lost in an upper-middle class residential area. This neighborhood was fairly well-lighted, and looked like it had been built in the 1950's. I decide to pull into a empty driveway to turn around and go back the opposite direction in search of our destination. The driveway I chose at random lead to a typical garage attached to a non-nondescript house with a light-colored paint job. One or 2 lights were on in the house, and the shades were all down. The front end of our car had barely crossed the sidewalk when I felt a cold wave of fathomless evil fear pass over and through me. We were about 25 feet from the garage door. I instantly hit the brakes and at the same time glanced at the ex. Her eyes were open wide and she was staring straight ahead. She looked at me and said, "Get out of here," in a very serious flat tone of voice. I was already in reverse, and got out of that neighborhood as fast as I could. We decided to abort whatever we were going to do and went straight home. We were quiet for about a minute, and after we had gone a few blocks or so, I asked her what was wrong, and she replied that she experienced a sudden "cold evil fear" as we pulled into that driveway. She essentially felt the same thing at the same moment as I did. We neither saw nor heard nothing to prompt what we sensed. Nothing of that kind ever happened to me before or since, and I'm not in the habit of experiencing that level of creepiness. I kinda wish now that I would have had the presence of mind to remember the street and house number, if only to see if that experience would happen again -in the daytime-. No way would I ever go back at night and without more witnesses. I have a pit in my st ...


abigpicturewindow.files.wordpress.comView Full Size


Sorry couldn't resist
 
2012-10-31 11:14:07 AM  

ChrisDe: In the history of Halloween, nobody has ever found a razor blade in their apple. I'm not even sure anybody ever got an apple.


Received an apple once. Didn't eat it because of the razor blade story.
 
2012-10-31 11:14:13 AM  
I'm going to post all my ghost stories that happened to me personally, and then two more that I heard from close friends:

1. I lived in Luxembourg (the tiny little country) for a little over a year working a contract. Really, really nice place. The apartment I lived in was on the ground floor of a pre-WWI building that had been beautifully renovated inside, but was still the original facade. One night, about two weeks into living there, I heard someone knocking on the window of my bedroom. Like I said, it was a ground-floor apartment, and the window faced the street, so I thought it was morning and someone was trying to wake me up. I got up and it was like 3 AM. The knocking at the window was really loud, so I got up to see what it was. As soon as I threw the drapes open, the knocking stopped. No one was there. The knocking happened once or twice a week for months.

2. Also in the Luxembourg apartment - my television would turn itself on randomly. I would go to the bathroom or the kitchen or something and come back and the TV would be on. One time I was just sitting there reading and the TV turned itself on right in front of me. The remote was across the room.

3. Back here in the States, I was sitting at my home office/guest bedroom working. My dog was laying on the bed. My wife was down the street visiting some friends. We have a storm door over our front door that makes a very distinctive sound when it's opened. My dog has determined that it's his job to run to the front door and bark whenever the storm door is opened. Anyway, I was sitting at my desk, and both me and the dog hear the storm door open and someone put a key in the front door and start to open it. The dog hops up and runs to the front door barking. There's no one there. I can see the front porch from my office window and never saw anyone. I called my wife, and she was still down the street.

4. The house I grew up in we inherited from my grandfather and was built in the late 1890s (not a typo; it was over a hundred years old) and was generally spooky. It was just me and my father in a big house, so there were rooms that we never went into, ever - the formal living room being one of them. Once i was sitting in my bedroom alone in the house and I hear very soft talking from downstairs. I go downstairs and still hear the talking. Finally, I realize that it's coming from the formal living room - a room that neither I nor my father had entered in very possibly years. I go in there and the old hi-fi stereo is turned on and playing. That stereo had not been turned on since we inherited the house. Lots of other little things happened in that house.

5. I was present at an undersea, unexplained mass sponge migration.
 
2012-10-31 11:16:18 AM  
I have nothing to contribute, other than to say that this is probably my favorite thread of the year, and thanks to all who tell their tales.
 
2012-10-31 11:18:16 AM  
the best scary story I know isn't mine, it's my brother's. He's in the military and is a really straight laced, non-exaggerating kind of guy, but he and a friend moved into a place in Petersburg, VA, that had a ghost. All sorts of stuff happened-their silverware slowly disappeared until one day they came home and it was all lined up on the countertop. They both had covers pulled off of them. They heard footsteps. To the point where they'd both be up with guns, searching the house.

It got to the point where guys would come and stay with them, and then refuse to ever step foot in the apartment again. And we're talking about 200+ pound military guys.

They had another army buddy come in for a training, and he was sleeping on an air mattress in the spare room. They got woken up by him yelling "ALL RIGHT, ASSHOLES, I'M UP" and they went to see what he was talking about. Apparently someone had been picking up the corner of the air mattress and dropping it, and he assumed it was them trying to get him up for the training. It was 3am and they'd both been asleep.

Eventually they got used to it, and my brother used to have the covers pulled up around him and feel someone's hand on his face. They finally moved, and when my brother went back to pick up his motorcycle, he was talking to the new military family that moved in. The new guy's kid came up to them, and the dad said "This is Captain Grey, he used to live here" and the little kid said "I know, the guy in my room told me."

To this day whenever my brother looks at a house he asks the realtor if it's haunted. His wife says the realtors' expressions are great.
 
2012-10-31 11:18:42 AM  
I'm at work dressed up as the Fourth Doctor today. Scarf, wig, etc. And here's the weird thing, about five minutes ago I get an email on my phone. It's Amazon.com, offering me the latest deals on Jelly Babies. Seriously.

I'm sure I must have searched for those at some point in the past, or maybe the site noticed me looking for the requisite scarf and Jelly Babies appear on the "also bought" list of people who buy those, but it still felt weird. I'm trying to convince myself that Amazon doesn't have a spy satellite that noticed what I was wearing.
 
2012-10-31 11:20:15 AM  
This one is from a close friend:

my aunt moved into this crappy little apartment in some rent-controlled district in east LA and had only been there a week or so when she came home from work one day and found that the furniture has been reorganized in the living room.

she was bugged out, since she didn't exactly live in a nice neighborhood and she considered it likely that someone had broken in and rifled through everything, moving the furniture in the process.

nevertheless, she cleaned up the living room and went on about her life. a few days later she came home from work and the furniture had all been moved again - same position as before.

at this point, she called the landlord and asked to have the locks changed because she thought that perhaps one of the neighbors had a spare key, or that the previous tenant had a grudge against the apartment complex and was taking it out on her.

they came and changed the locks a couple of days later and she was feeling much better about things.

several nervous days went by, she kept coming home and expecting to see everything re-arranged again, but was relieved to find that the living room remained undisturbed.

after a month or so had elapsed, she came home one afternoon and sure enough, the furniture in the living room was back in that unsettling configuration. this time she was beside herself and she ran next door to tell the neighbor lady that she had by now befriended.

frantically, she described her ordeal to the nice lady and begged her to come over to the apartment and look around for intruders. as they looked around the apartment, her neighbor became very concerned...she asked my aunt if the furniture was always moved into that exact configuration when this happened. my aunt was sure that it was always so. her neighbor went on to tell my aunt that the previous tenant, an elderly gentleman, used to keep his living room in precisely that layout.

my aunt was confused, because she knew that she had had the locks changed and there was never any other evidence of forced entry. she asked the neighbor if she knew where the old guy had gone, so that she could determine whether or not it was him that had been breaking in and moving the goddamned furniture around and generally freaking her out.

her neighbor smiled weakly and said, "yes. he died."

my aunt moved out of that apartment at the end of the month.

about a year later she moved into a 4-bedroom apartment in the barrio district of east LA where she lived with 16 other people.
3 of them were members of the band "Los Lobos." true story...G.O.D.
 
2012-10-31 11:21:16 AM  

ChrisDe: In the history of Halloween, nobody has ever found a razor blade in their apple. I'm not even sure anybody ever got an apple.


We always got fruit when we were trick-or-treating from the older couples in the neighborhood. They made up for it during the rest of the year by randomly giving us loose change for video games or candy when they saw us walking by.
 
2012-10-31 11:21:21 AM  

Gonz: I have nothing to contribute, other than to say that this is probably my favorite thread of the year, and thanks to all who tell their tales.


I second this as one of the great yearly threads, and also give props to mods for greenlighting early on a weekday so that we could get maximum participation.
 
2012-10-31 11:25:05 AM  
I've told this story before, but it's the only one I've got, and it's true...

When I was 8 or 9 years old (in 1978), my family moved into this house:
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Another view:
img208.imageshack.usView Full Size


Built in 1851, it's one of the oldest houses in the area, and it's out in the middle of nowhere. Weird things began almost immediately after moving in. The first night there, I slept on a mattress on the floor of the back 2nd floor bedroom, behind the left side window in the second photo. I didn't have much in my new bedroom yet, just a couple of boxes, the mattress, and a plastic yellow lamp that had no switch. You turned it on by plugging it in. Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up. The lamp right next to my head was on. I clearly remembered unplugging it, and besides, it would've been impossible to sleep with it on. I reached out and traced down the cord. It wasn't plugged in. I was holding the loose plug in my hand when it went off.

I laid awake for awhile, and began to wonder if I imagined it. I didn't want to sleep, but eventually I passed out. It had been a busy day, and I was beat.

Sometime later, I woke up again, and something just felt.. very wrong. I laid there with my blanket pulled up over most of my face, with a little crack where I could see the room. Everything was normal. After maybe a couple of minutes, the closet door swung open very slowly. I was more freaked out this time, and as I peered out of my little viewing port in the blanket and my eyes got more adjusted to the darkness, I saw what were unmistakably reddish eyes looking at me from within the closet at the height of an adult. There was nothing in that closet that could have caused what I saw. There wasn't even a clothes rod in that closet. It was completely empty. I shot out of that bedroom and into my parents' room, where I spent the rest of the night.

The next day, I gradually began to accept that it was just a case of the new house heebie-jeebies, but I still dragged my mattress back into my parents' room and stayed there that next night. The following day, my sister told my parents she wasn't sleeping upstairs anymore. I never found out exactly why, but I knew she really didn't like that 2nd floor. Laying on the mattress in my parents' room awake that second night, I could hear noises in the hallway like faint footsteps, and door hinges creaking... and unintelligible faint speech. Though there were 4 bedrooms upstairs, we all spent the next, and all of the nights that followed, downstairs. My sister converted the pantry into a small bedroom, and my parents' and my bed were in what was supposed to be the dining room.

After we moved downstairs, the weirdness continued. Pictures occasionally fell off the walls, usually when we were in another room, but at least one occasion while my sister and I were looking in the direction of it, a small picture was jumped off the wall. It didn't drop straight down, but was flung in an arc off of the living room wall, landing a few feet from where it should have.

Many times while we were downstairs, we heard footsteps upstairs, doors being opened and closed, and muffled voices. Unfortunately, the only bathroom was upstairs at the back end of the hall. If I had to go to the bathroom at night, I'd do my best to wait 'til morning, but quite often couldn't hold out. I always left the door open and watched the hall while I did my business, because I was too afraid to close it and possibly have some sort of surprise staring me in the face when I opened it. One night I was in there, watching the hall like always, when the attic doorknob began to turn slowly. The door opened maybe 3 inches before slamming shut again. I bolted down the steps, nearly falling down the stairs in the process, and from that point on, if I had to piss in the night, I used a coffee can I kept under my bed.

One of dad's habits was to go outside for a cigarette in the warmer weather months. His cig breaks got longer as time went by, and he began going to the barn at night for maybe a half hour at a time. One night he came back in the house, and he was white as a sheet. He sat at the kitchen table and glared at us with a glassy-eyed look I can't describe. He looked agitated, but what's more, he looked legitimately dangerous. I never saw him look like that before, or since. Mom asked him what was wrong, and he just continued to stare right through us without saying a word. After awhile, he was gritting his teeth and looking at (or rather through) us like he was going to murder us. We were all freaked out and crying, and then it was like a light bulb was switched off. He was suddenly himself again, and asking us what was wrong. We told him, and he didn't believe us at first. But then he realized he didn't remember anything after going out for a cigarette. It was either that night or the next, that my folks woke me up in the middle of the night, and we left. They didn't even want to wait for me to change out of my pajamas. They just woke me up, shoved me in the car, and that was that. My sister was grown up by that time, and she went to stay in town with friends until we could come back with a U-Haul in a couple of days.

That house, as it turns out does have a history. The guy who built it was getting married. He built this house for his wife-to-be, and she left him shortly after the house was complete. Despondent, he went out to the barn, and hung himself from the rafters.. Later, I heard that a man put a shotgun in his mouth in an upstairs bedroom after killing his wife.

Another side note: After moving away for many years, I had a job interview in the area in 1998, and decided to stop by the place to show my wife. As it turns out, it was still being lived in, and the very nice couple who lived there invited us in. Of course I didn't want to freak them out, so I never said anything to tip them off to the weirdness of the place. Pretty soon, the guy starts telling me about how his wife won't stay there alone, how she hears footsteps and voices upstairs... and doors opening and closing themselves. Still, I never breathed a word about the strange goings-on when I lived there. Just before we left, he told us about returning from a trip into town for groceries. Their kitchen appliances were fried as if from an electrical spike, and the cabinet and refrigerator doors were all open with food from the fridge strewn around the kitchen floor. He halfheartedly blamed it on an electrical surge, but it was just a cover. An electrical surge wouldn't open the doors (including cabinet doors) and throw food on the floor.

This past May, we drove up through the area again, and I wanted to get a photo of the place to have a record of it before it was torn down or something. It is a 160 year old house, after all. I didn't know if it was still there, but I scoured the area most of the day to find it. I was about to give up when I thought I remembered a road that went through town that ran by the house. They had changed so many roads it was tough to find, but I took a chance, and finally I spotted it. It's still isolated, and only accessible by a stub of a road. (The other half of the road was wiped out by flooding years ago, which made it tough to find.) I was surprised to find that the place is exactly the same as it was when I lived there in 1978. It was as if it were frozen in time. When the photos above were taken, there was no curtains, no furniture visible through the windows, but there were a few dishes in a dish drainer on the kitchen sink. I wanted to go in, but I didn't have permission, and didn't want possible tenants coming home to find me inside, so I stayed outside to take photos. While I was taking the photos, my wife and I both felt like we were being watched. It was an eerie vibe. Whether something is still wrong with the place in 2012, I don't know. But it's very possible.
 
2012-10-31 11:32:38 AM  
Kids, make sure you don't go near the woods tonight:

img51.imageshack.usView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 11:33:34 AM  
Absolutely true story


Just another night driving to work. I was passing Boeing Field northbound, traffic was light. I was about 7 car lengths behind another car in the #2 lane, thinking about passing. The car suddenly, without signalling, swerved violently left. I had just enough time to think "WTF?!?" when I saw him.

A man. Standing calmly in my lane, left side facing me, looking directly at me. Not moving. Just standing there.

Less than 6 car lengths away, at 62 MPH.

My arm jerked the wheel right. He was just a blur as he passed mere inches from my drivers' side mirror. He never moved.

I tried to grab my cellphone to call 911, but I was shaking so violently I could barely stay in my lane. I managed to hold it together and made it to work. I shook for at least an hour afterwords, and wondered all night what on earth made that guy do that.

On my 5am break I flipped on the news. That wierdo was determined to commit suicide, and he succeeded. It seems that mere minutes after I missed him, some poor lady in a white car hit and killed him. She was OK but it messed up her car bigtime.

I heard later he was holding a teddy bear as he stood there.
 
2012-10-31 11:33:52 AM  
Here's another one from another friend:

My story begins around the age of 5 or 6, visiting my grandparents in Mexico. We would sleep outside to keep cool. One night, I fell asleep only to wake up freezing cold, and open my eyes because I heard what I would equate to a screeching owl. My grandmother quickly yelled at me "Don't look towards the screeching sound!" Stricken with fear, I asked her why, and she said "It's a lechuza," and proceeded to tell me they were these birds that were half-witch and half-owl (head of a witch on the body of an owl). I could see the panic in my grandmother's eyes, but I couldn't resist, and had to peek. I looked over towards the power lines, where I saw the lechuza, and she let out a bloodcurdling screech. At that point, I turned towards my grandmother. She knew I had looked, grabbed my arm, yanked me out of bed, and ran with me inside the house, locking the door behind us. I never really understood why I wasn't supposed to look at it, or why she was so panicked that I did.
 
2012-10-31 11:37:02 AM  
North Arlington ghost: Construction worker quits after Margaret Febrey sighting
By Kendis Gibson
March 19, 2012 - 07:15 pm
ABC 7 News, WJLA, Washington DC

An eerie encounter recently brought work at a North Arlington construction site to a complete stop.

Two months ago, an old Victorian house sat on the site, but as crews began demolishing the property to build a new club house, one of the workers spotted a young girl inside of the building.

The girl is thought to be Margaret Febrey, who was laid to rest in Oakwood Cemetery almost 100 years ago.

"He said he saw this little girl in the window ... and he went in and couldn't find her, and on his way out he saw her on the steps and turned around and didn't see her," said Jeff Schreiner, construction supervisor.

The encounter was too much for the construction worker. He immediately packed his stuff and walked off the job permanently.

Fourteen-year-old Febrey had lived in the Victorian house being demolished before her death in 1913.

The sighting spooked workers so much, they stopped construction on the 99th anniversary of her death in January.

-- ABC 7 News, WJLA, Washington DC
 
2012-10-31 11:39:35 AM  
I see a few references to Sleep Paralysis in here. I had a classic example of it happen to me just last night. I awoke from a dream to find a creature of darkness sitting on my chest. It was human-shaped, but had no definite physical appearance. The thing was so dark that I could not see features, it was like a three-dimensional shadow with weight. I couldn't move a muscle, classic SP; My hand was touching my wife's back but I couldn't move it to wake her up. Somehow I managed to fade back to sleep without resolving the issue and awoke again in the morning.

The dream I was having was that I was in a medieval town that was beset by demons and I was trying to convince the people to fight them. To have that proceed into Sleep Paralysis was a bit freaky.

Anyway, great thread. Carry on!
 
2012-10-31 11:46:10 AM  
Question for other SP sufferers out there ( I assume there are plenty in this thread. Mine has given me a fixation on the creep). When you are fighting to get conscientiousness, what happens if you give up? I feel forced to constantly fight through what my mind is forcing me to see. Trying to force my mind to wake up. Upon succeeding I awake to my paralyzed body which is slowly awakening, but what happens if I don't fight the previous stage? I never give up for fear of the unknown.
 
2012-10-31 11:46:23 AM  
Also, for anyone looking for spooky stuff on Netflix instant streaming, here's a list of stuff I queued for our Halloween party this year:

Insidious
Grave Encounters
Apartment 143
The Innkeepers
Pontypool
Paranormal activity 2/3
 
2012-10-31 11:46:27 AM  
I have one. I was on a tour of Crown Hill Cemetary. At one point, we had to get in our cars, and drive from point A to point B. I look at one of the mausoleums that they have and there's a ghost girl inside, looking out, as if she was trapped.

I learned later that some people put dummies in their mausoleums to deter theft. Frankly, i don't think this was the case as she was transparent, in addition to the fact that i don't' know why anyone if their right mind would use a 5 year old girl for that sort of thing.
 
2012-10-31 11:46:28 AM  
Spoiler Alert: The calls were coming from inside the house.
 
2012-10-31 11:48:34 AM  
AN OLD TALE FROM PEORIA, IL
(taken from www.prarieghosts.com)

If either of these questions can be answered in the affirmative, then this might explain the strange events that have plagued the old State Mental Hospital in Bartonville for many years. In its final years of operations, after the last of the patients had departed, staff members in the building started to report some odd occurrences. After they left, the building became the site of frequent excursions by vandals, trespassers and curiosity-seekers, many of whom have had their own encounters in the place.

But there is a long history behind this sad and forlorn place.... a history that is filled with social and medical reform, insanity and yes, even ghosts.

Construction on the first buildings here actually began in 1885 and were completed in 1887. The hospital, when completed, resembled a medieval castle with battlements and turrets. It was a foreboding structure and one not fit for the kind of progressive medicine that was planned for it. Despite the huge costs involved in building it, it was never used and was torn down in 1897. The reason for the demolition was given as structural and design flaws. According to early reports, the castle-like building had been constructed over an abandoned coal mine and wide cracks were beginning to appear in the walls. The decay was believed to be caused by the collapsing of the old mine shafts.

In 1902, the hospital would reopen with Dr. George A. Zeller, a pioneer in mental health, at the helm. The new hospital implemented the "cottage system" and 33 different buildings were used to house patients. There was also a nurse's home, a store, a power house, and a domestic building with a laundry, bakery and kitchen. Zeller also implemented a system with no window bars or restraints, something that was unheard of in those days.

Dr. Zeller also realized that a system was needed for the burial of the dead at the hospital. He decided that the asylum would take care of the burials of the unclaimed, but that all other deceased persons would be shipped home to their relatives. The hospital's burial ground eventually grew to include four cemeteries, which were located behind the main buildings. The older cemeteries are marked with stones that only bear numbers, as many of the patients came there without names. The newer cemeteries have stones bearing names, birth and death dates, and patient numbers upon them. The oldest cemetery here would mark the location of the very first ghost story to be associated with the hospital. But this is no mere folk legend or rumor, this was a documented account of a supernatural event.... and the teller of the tale was none other than Dr. George Zeller himself!

Shortly after taking over the hospital, Dr. Zeller created a burial corps to deal with the disposal of those who passed away while in care of the hospital. The corps consisted of a staff member of the hospital and a half-dozen of the patients. While these men were still disturbed, all of them were competent enough to take part in the digging of the graves.

Of all of the gravediggers, the most unusual man, according to Dr. Zeller, was a fellow called A. Bookbinder. The man was completely mute so no one knew his real name. Apparently, the man had suffered a breakdown while working in a printing house, possibly in Chicago, and his mental illness had left him incapable of coherent speech. The officer who had taken him into custody merely wrote in his report that the man had been employed as "a bookbinder". A court clerk listed this as the man's name and he was sent to the hospital as A. Bookbinder.

Dr. Zeller described the man as being strong and healthy, although completely uncommunicative. Soon, the attendants enlisted him to assist in the burial corps. Strangely, "Old Book" as he began to be called was especially suited to the work. Ordinarily, when the coffin was being lowered, the gravediggers would stand back out of the way and wait silently for the funeral to end. At that point, they would set to filling the grave. Nearly every single patient at the hospital was a stranger and unknown to the staff, so the funeral services were mainly done out of respect, rather than because of personal attachment to the deceased. Because of this, everyone was a little surprised when, at his first internment, Old Book proceeded to remove his cap, wipe his eyes and begin weeping loudly for the patient who had died. He would do the same thing at each service.... first his sleeve would be used to wipe away his tears and then he would walk over and lean against the old elm that stood in the center of the cemetery and begin sobbing loudly. This tree, where Book would give vent to his grief, was known as the "Graveyard Elm". It was a massive old tree which had been standing for many years.

Time passed and eventually Old Book too passed away. Word spread among the employees and as Book was well-liked, and noted for his peculiarities, everyone decided they would attend his funeral. Dr. Zeller wrote that more than 100 uniformed nurses attended, along with the male staff members and several hundred of the patients. Dr. Zeller officiated the service. Old Book's casket was placed on two cross beams above his empty grave and four men stood by to lower it into the ground at the end of the service. Dr. Zeller wrote, "Just as the choir finished the last lines of 'Rock of Ages', the men grasped the ropes, stooped forward, and with a powerful, muscular effort, prepared to lift the coffin, in order to permit the removal of the crossbeams and allow it to gently descend into the grave. "At a given signal, they heaved away the ropes and the next instant, all four lay on their backs. For the coffin, instead of offering resistance, bounded into the air like an eggshell, as if it were empty!"

Needless to say, the spectators were a little shocked at this turn of events and the nurses were to said to have shrieked, half of them running away and the other half coming closer to the grave to see what was going on.

"In the midst of the commotion," Dr. Zeller continued, "a wailing voice was heard and every eye turned toward the Graveyard Elm whence it emanated. Every man and woman stood transfixed, for there, just as had always been the case, stood Old Book, weeping and moaning with an earnestness that outrivaled anything he had ever shown before.

After a few moments of this, Dr. Zeller summoned some men to remove the lid of the coffin, convinced that Old Book could not be inside of it. The lid was lifted and as soon as it was, the wailing sound completely stopped. Inside of the coffin lay the body of Old Book.... unquestionably dead. It was said that every eye looked upon the still corpse and then over to the Graveyard Elm. The apparition had vanished.

"It was awful, but it was real," Dr. Zeller wrote. "I saw it; 100 nurses saw it and 300 spectators saw it."

A few days later, the Graveyard Elm mysteriously began to wither and die. In spite of efforts to save it, the tree declined over the next year until it was completely dead. Later, after the dead limbs had dropped, workmen tried to remove the rest of the tree, but stopped working after the first cut of the ax caused the tree to emanate an "agonized, despairing cry of pain". After that, Dr. Zeller suggested the tree be burned, however as soon as the flames started around the tree's base, the workers quickly put them out. They later told Zeller that they heard a sobbing and crying sound coming from it.

"Today, Old Book's grave remains without headstone or monument," Dr. Zeller wrote about his shared experience. "But if anyone asks where he is, those of us in the know point with a shudder to the remains of the Graveyard Elm."

After the death of Dr. Zeller, the hospital remained in continuous use for many more years, adding buildings, patients and care facilities for children and tuberculosis patients. The institution finally closed down in 1972 and remained mostly empty for a number of years. In 1980, it was sold off at auction to anyone who would tear down the empty buildings but it soon became the property of the bank again when the buyer declared bankruptcy. The remaining hospital buildings are today the property of Winsley Durand Jr., who hopes to convert the place into office space. It is private property and trespassers are not allowed.

Even though trespassing is discouraged at the old hospital, it hasn't stopped vandals and would-be ghost hunters from going inside the place over the last three decades. Although many of these people have been less than kind to the old building, most are not looking to damage the structure... they are looking for ghosts. As with most abandoned structures of this kind, stories about ghosts and hauntings are common. What derelict dwelling has not been targeted as the local "haunted house" at one time or another? With buildings of this type, once a story gets started, its hard to stop..... except in this case, the stories appear to be true!
 
2012-10-31 11:50:27 AM  
So, CSB time, and made super-creepy by FARK, of all things.

True story, etc.

I was 14, sitting in my parent's 'posh' front room where the nice furniture was. Mom and Dad had stepped out to pick up dinner, and it was night. I was sitting in front of my big-ass stereo, one of the old-school rack jobs, where the record player sat on top of the amp, which sat on top of the tuner, which sat on top of the tape deck. Headphones on, commence listening to music.

About twenty minutes in, I get this insane feeling of being watched. Not a casual 'hey, someone's there' vibe, but full-blown creeps; gooseflesh, hair on back of neck, etc. I whip my head around to the right to look out the window all the way across the room and bam, there's this dude in a cloak and a wide brimmed hat staring at me, through the window.

I could barely make out any features save for the fact he was tall, wore a cloak and had a wide-brimmed hat like something out of High Plains Drifter. What horrified me was he seemed to instantly amplify the fear I felt and reflect it back, his face pulled into this crazy rictus of a maniacal grin. The moment I made eye contact (all of 2 seconds if that) boom, vanished. Gone.

Then I instantly felt the same damn creepy gooseflesh vibe from my other side. I whip my head around to the left and the Hat Man is standing in the hallway looking and silently laughing at me. Again, the moment I made eye contact, boom, gone.

I never thought much of it later, until last week I brought it up on another creepy thread here on FARK. Never heard anyone else talk about it in my life, until another FARKer brought it up that the 'hat man' or 'man in hat' is something that's been seen by a lot of other people.

Bullshiat, I thought. I googled 'shadow people' + 'hat man'.

The first link had a drawing, and damned if it wasn't the same *@@(* thing I saw in the Hallway. Multpile people with the same descriptions, etc.

So, thanks fellow FARKers, for re-energizing something I thought was long gone, and for freaking me out all over again.
 
2012-10-31 11:51:00 AM  
Freakiest dream/sleep paralysis/whatever that happened to me:

Woke in a panic feeling that a hand had grabbed mine, fighting loose I grabbed a pillow and smashed it over top of the hand which continued to fight and grab at mine but it eventually disappeared down into the bed itself. I sat there mashing down on that pillow for who-knows how long until my higher brain functions kicked in and I realized I must look quite silly to be fighting with an imaginary hand. I calmly put my pillows back, took a leak and went back to bed.
 
2012-10-31 11:53:41 AM  

thecpt: Question for other SP sufferers out there ( I assume there are plenty in this thread. Mine has given me a fixation on the creep). When you are fighting to get conscientiousness, what happens if you give up? I feel forced to constantly fight through what my mind is forcing me to see. Trying to force my mind to wake up. Upon succeeding I awake to my paralyzed body which is slowly awakening, but what happens if I don't fight the previous stage? I never give up for fear of the unknown.


It's easier if you just let yourself go with it. Remember that you're in control. The few times I was able to let go I had amazing lucid dreams experiences-in one I could fly. It was amazingly real.
 
2012-10-31 11:55:15 AM  

capnmonkey: Also, for anyone looking for spooky stuff on Netflix instant streaming, here's a list of stuff I queued for our Halloween party this year:

Insidious
Grave Encounters
Apartment 143
The Innkeepers
Pontypool
Paranormal activity 2/3


Insidious is pretty good. The Innkeepers is creepy but not jump out of your skin scary. Paranormal Activity is typical loud noises make you jump. Might I suggest House of the Devil for an awesome newer movie with a retro feel. It's seriously good
 
2012-10-31 11:57:11 AM  
My Gentleman Caller - a true story of an Ellicott City haunting (this happened last year)

I've always had the feeling that my apartment is haunted. I've never had the slightest sense that it was malevolent or evil, just that he was there. I live on Main St. in a historic town that has more than its share of ghost stories and haunted establishments, so I'm not at all surprised mine is one of them.

I have always had the idea that my ghostie was an older gentleman, and like I said, never got the impression that he wanted to hurt me. The opposite, really, it almost seemed like he was looking out for me. I often come home late to find a light turned on for me. This behavior has made me all but ignore the occasional thumping or creaking as just my gentleman friend wandering around at night. I would sometimes see a "something" cross the dining room, but nothing more than a shadow out of the corner of my eye. (Others who have stayed in my place have reported different interactions, but I can't corroborate those.)

Last weekend I made beer bread and being the lazy ass I am, the cooling rack has been sitting on the dining room table for a week. Any time I would walk by it would vibrate/rattle faintly against the glass table top, but nothing else would move it. Not doors closing, or movement from the shop downstairs, just me walking across the dining room.

Saturday night I was curled up on my couch in a blanket - I am also cheap, and haven't wanted to turn the heat on - watching a movie when I start to hear that cooling rack rattling against the table top. Just 4 little rattles or so, increasing in force then stopping, and then 6 or so back across the room. I have not been bothered by any of the manifestations of my Ghostie in the time I have lived here, but this freaked me right the hell out.

While I was sufficiently startled, I got over it and went to bed. It was pretty cold by then, but I burrowed under my covers and eventually fell sleep. At some point I woke up to the sensation of being tucked in, having the blankets pulled up over me and tucked in around me. I turned over and saw someone standing next to my bed. He said "it's awfully cold in here." I wasn't afraid, but asked "how did you get in here?" He said "I used to live here. It's okay, go back to sleep. Stay warm."

I went back to sleep, but have the suspicion I met my Ghostie that night. I woke up tucked in like a burrito; arms still inside the covers.

And as nice as he is, I'm still a little freaked out about being there by myself, and turning the lights off to go to sleep.

And that little rattle from the dining room table...
 
2012-10-31 11:58:42 AM  

capnmonkey


Also, for anyone looking for spooky stuff on Netflix instant streaming, here's a list of stuff I queued for our Halloween party this year:

Insidious
Grave Encounters
Apartment 143
The Innkeepers
Pontypool
Paranormal activity 2/3


Liked them all, but Pontypool was kind a mixed bag. I watched Apartment 143 last night. Pretty good!
 
2012-10-31 12:05:38 PM  
Only "ghost" story I can tell you was real, and happened to me.

My fiancee and I bought a house in March, 2008. We got married in May. Every single day, I'd beat him home from work, and he'd pull up home on his motorcycle, open the garage door, and pull it inside. I knew the sound of his bike by heart. It was distinctive to me since he rode it every day. In June that year, he was killed in a pretty gruesome motorcycle accident.

Exactly six months, to the DAY, after the accident, I was inside my house, early evening, like 6pm or so. I heard his motorcycle pull up to the house. I swear to you all, I was not crazy, I know I heard it. Even stranger... I was walking to the front door to look outside at the driveway, (the sound of the bike stopped) and as I approached the door, the doorbell rang.

There were no kids messing around outside, and the wiring had never had a problem. He rang the doorbell. He came home, and he rang the doorbell.

I was unbelievably freaked out. But I know what I heard, and I have never been able to explain it.
 
2012-10-31 12:09:48 PM  
Ye olde classic American ghost story coming right up.

I respect my dad a lot as a no-nonsense kind of guy and he is a skeptic and will think through the logical explanation of just about anything so when he says he experienced some kind of a haunting I believe him.

Back in the 1960s my father was part of a repertoire company that was working in a small theater in Abingdon, VA. What you need to know about this mountain town is that there's a whole network of natural tunnels and caves just underground and they are blamed for some peculiarities in the town (apparently it's one of the most haunted places in the US). Well, Dad went to his director's house in the outskirts of town for a cold reading for the next play. As he and the cast (all men) were sitting in the living room he noticed that the light was shifting in an odd way and heard something squeaking. He glanced up and saw in the hallway a light bulb dangling from a wire making wide rapid ellipses. He just watched this light going in these wild, large circles until, as if caught by an invisible hand, it just stopped. It didn't slow down to a stop, it was as if someone just grabbed it to hold it steady. No one else seemed phased by it but they did stop to glimpse up at the light from time to time. 'The director has a ghost problem, nothing to concern yourself with. Not a big deal at all.'

Say what now?

This director had been renting the house for a few years now and for a long while would wake up in the middle of the night feeling like he was being watched. Some nights he'd get a glimpse in his periphery of a woman or someone wearing a long dress. Then one night he shot up and saw her. A young woman or teen girl standing at the foot of his bed watching him sleep. And like that she turned away and ran out of the bedroom. He told someone about it and was told to share his story with a local inn who had similar hauntings. Men, staying in alone, would wake up and see a young woman watching them. One night a guest actually chased after her when she fled and watched her vanish into a wall. But they didn't know why this seemingly unrelated house had the same haunting. About a year or two before my father arrived the hotel did a renovation and found a void behind the wall that the ghost ran into. That lead down to the cellar, which had been walled off likely in the 20s or 30s when the place had been converted from a girl's dorm to a hotel. The cellar itself was one of those tunnels and someone walked down about 500 paces or so and walked into someone's basement. Turns out that it was connected to the house all along.

As for the ghost the most likely candidate was a student from the girls college who was living in the then dormitory. Because of the descriptions of her clothing it was likely she was from the 1910's. About that time there was a student who was getting ready to leave school to get married but contracted a fever and died the night before her wedding date. Her body was stored in the cellar for a few days until her family was able to come into town to collect her.
 
2012-10-31 12:12:15 PM  

allestelle: When I was in junior high, my parents moved to a small town into a house that was in the middle of the woods. The closest house was a few miles away, and nobody lived there. I got pretty used to the isolation, and it never really bothered me.

I was in high school when this happened. The incident itself was creepy, but the events leading up to it made it even more unexplainable and frightening to me. My dad had developed a love for rocks around this time. He loved finding unique rocks and had amassed quite a collection. They were worthless, but he enjoyed it. Most of the rocks he acquired because they were pretty, but he also had some rocks that just looked odd, and so he kept them. He had developed a penchant for rocks that looked like faces.

One day, he was clearing some weeds from the creek behind our house. He found a rock that looked like a miniature skull. It had two "eye sockets," a hole where a nose would be, and a missing chunk that really did look like it could be a mouth.

My mother was instantly creeped out by the rock and told him not to keep it in the house. He told her he'd get rid of it.

The next afternoon, my mother was home alone, standing in the kitchen which faced the back yard and the creek. She was staring out one of the windows when she thought she saw a man standing out in the back yard on the edge of the woods. (There was no fence, just a large back yard which was surrounded by the creek & the woods.) He was looking towards the house. She obviously got really nervous and moved to another window to get a closer look. By the time she got to that window, there was now a woman standing by him. Which was odd, because there wouldn't have been enough time for someone to walk up and stand by him. It took all of five seconds to get to the other window.
Realizing that, my mom started to wonder if they were really there or if it was a mirage of some sort. She moved back to the other window (another five seconds) and could no longer see anyone, so she ...


This story reminds me: if readers like this sort of thing and don't know about them already, they might like looking up the stories of M. R. James and his pupil H. R. Wakefield, two of the great ghost story writers:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6IVIFJKDdQ&feature=related
 
2012-10-31 12:22:52 PM  
I used to live in a large house in Westlake Ohio that was well over a hundred years old (it'd be at least 130 by now). The place was...unnerving. For example, my bedroom floor was crooked. Not so you'd notice if you weren't looking for it, but if you put a marble on the floor it would roll under the bed without fail. One of the walls bowed slightly inward as well. Again, you probably wouldn't notice without knowing about it, but it you walked toward it your forehead would hit the wall while your feet were still six inches away.

I only mention this, because the subtle "offness" of the place could offer a non-supernatural explanation for what I'm telling you. I've read a lot about how little things like that can give you a subconscious sense that things are "wrong". Messes with your perception, causes you to see things out of the corner of your eye, that sort of thing.

Anyway, I'm about seven years old, and living in this crooked room. I've been having a lot of nightmares, and the weird spatial properties of the place are probably the cause. One day I'm sitting on my floor, in front of my closet, drawing with crayons. The doors of my closet are those sliding mirror ones. I'm drawing, and I keep seeing things in the mirror out of the corner of my eye. Things moving. I look up and they are gone. Brain playing tricks on me.

After about the fourth time this has happened, I am getting more annoyed than scared. It happens again, and this time I resolve not to look up. I stay focused on my drawing, and just keep watching with my peripheral vision. The movement in the mirror doesn't cease, and in fact seems to be getting clearer the more I avoid looking directly at it.

Finally I am sure there is something there and look up. To my shock, what I saw was still there. I was looking either through the mirror like a window to a room beyond, or at a reflection of the room I was in (hard to tell, I was young and rather too taken aback to examine minute details).

What I saw was a family. Just an ordinary family. There was a mother and a father and a little girl. The mother and father were sitting at a table talking, and the little girl was lying on her stomach perpendicular to me reading a book. I couldn't hear anything, just see them. I wish to hell I could remember more of the details, like what they were wearing or what the furniture in the room was like. I'm not sure if this was the past or the present or what. Hell if I know, I was seven.

I stared at them in complete shock for over a minute, waiting for either the image to fade or them to notice me. I was too freaked out to leave or call my mom, the people in the mirror might have heard me.

But they ignored me completely. I watched the girl mostly; she was close enough that I almost felt like I could lean forward and touch her through the mirror. She was engrossed in what she was reading, but kept sort of glancing my general direction, as if something was bothering her.

Another minute passes, and the shock has faded just enough that I'm wondering if saying something or calling my mom would be okay. These aren't scary looking people, they just really shouldn't be in my mirror. But just as I'm trying to convince myself to do something the girl slowly turns her head and her eyes widen and holy Christ she can see me! I still remember the utter shock on her face, because I'm sure I had the exact same expression. She opened her mouth to scream or call her parents attention to me or something, but at that point I bolted from the room in abject terror.

Took a couple of days for my own parents to convince me to enter my bedroom again, and I made them take down the mirrored closet doors. So...ghosts? A window into the past or future? A parallel world? Or some dumbass kid who dozed off playing with his crayons, had a dream, and was spooked by his own reflection upon waking?
 
2012-10-31 12:23:04 PM  
i2.ytimg.comView Full Size
 
2012-10-31 12:24:00 PM  

farkerintx: True story, this happened to me, about 20 years ago.

I never slept in that apartment again, and won't go up there after dark, to this day. My biggest fear when I'm visiting my parents home, is that I'll move something in the garage or barn, and behind it will be that board.


Don't have any creepy tales like that because I never used it, but I threw the same damn Ouija board away multiple times.

Long version: After getting married I was helping my new wife(now ex) pack up her shiat so we could move into our new apartment. Found a Parker Bros. Ouija board in the back of her closet. Threw it away with the rest of the trash. About a year later, I was packing up our apartment so we could move into a bigger apartment, and found the (I think) same Ouija board in the bottom of the bedroom closet. Strange. Threw it in the dumpster.

About a year after that, I was packing up all my shiat because we decided to separate, and found the Ouija board in the bottom of the linen closet. Took it out back and threw it in the creek.

Haven't seen it since...but I should ask the ex if she has cleaned out her closets lately.
 
2012-10-31 12:25:42 PM  

cscanlon7: fugeeface: muck4doo: fugeeface: About 12 years ago, I lived with in San Jose with my now ex wife. We went out one evening going somewhere in Los Gatos (I don't remember where we were headed). I was driving and she was in the passenger seat. I had taken a couple of wrong turns and we were a bit lost in an upper-middle class residential area. This neighborhood was fairly well-lighted, and looked like it had been built in the 1950's. I decide to pull into a empty driveway to turn around and go back the opposite direction in search of our destination. The driveway I chose at random lead to a typical garage attached to a non-nondescript house with a light-colored paint job. One or 2 lights were on in the house, and the shades were all down. The front end of our car had barely crossed the sidewalk when I felt a cold wave of fathomless evil fear pass over and through me. We were about 25 feet from the garage door. I instantly hit the brakes and at the same time glanced at the ex. Her eyes were open wide and she was staring straight ahead. She looked at me and said, "Get out of here," in a very serious flat tone of voice. I was already in reverse, and got out of that neighborhood as fast as I could. We decided to abort whatever we were going to do and went straight home. We were quiet for about a minute, and after we had gone a few blocks or so, I asked her what was wrong, and she replied that she experienced a sudden "cold evil fear" as we pulled into that driveway. She essentially felt the same thing at the same moment as I did. We neither saw nor heard nothing to prompt what we sensed. Nothing of that kind ever happened to me before or since, and I'm not in the habit of experiencing that level of creepiness. I kinda wish now that I would have had the presence of mind to remember the street and house number, if only to see if that experience would happen again -in the daytime-. No way would I ever go back at night and without more witnesses. I have a p ...


I LOL'd, would LOL again.
 
2012-10-31 12:30:23 PM  

FatherChaos: AN OLD TALE FROM PEORIA, IL
(taken from www.prarieghosts.com)

If either of these questions can be answered in the affirmative, then this might explain the strange events that have plagued the old State Mental Hospital in Bartonville for many years. In its final years of operations, after the last of the patients had departed, staff members in the building started to report some odd occurrences. After they left, the building became the site of frequent excursions by vandals, trespassers and curiosity-seekers, many of whom have had their own encounters in the place.

But there is a long history behind this sad and forlorn place.... a history that is filled with social and medical reform, insanity and yes, even ghosts.

Construction on the first buildings here actually began in 1885 and were completed in 1887. The hospital, when completed, resembled a medieval castle with battlements and turrets. It was a foreboding structure and one not fit for the kind of progressive medicine that was planned for it. Despite the huge costs involved in building it, it was never used and was torn down in 1897. The reason for the demolition was given as structural and design flaws. According to early reports, the castle-like building had been constructed over an abandoned coal mine and wide cracks were beginning to appear in the walls. The decay was believed to be caused by the collapsing of the old mine shafts.

In 1902, the hospital would reopen with Dr. George A. Zeller, a pioneer in mental health, at the helm. The new hospital implemented the "cottage system" and 33 different buildings were used to house patients. There was also a nurse's home, a store, a power house, and a domestic building with a laundry, bakery and kitchen. Zeller also implemented a system with no window bars or restraints, something that was unheard of in those days.

Dr. Zeller also realized that a system was needed for the burial of the dead at the hospital. He decided that the asylum would take care of the burials of the unclaimed, but that all other deceased persons would be shipped home to their relatives. The hospital's burial ground eventually grew to include four cemeteries, which were located behind the main buildings. The older cemeteries are marked with stones that only bear numbers, as many of the patients came there without names. The newer cemeteries have stones bearing names, birth and death dates, and patient numbers upon them. The oldest cemetery here would mark the location of the very first ghost story to be associated with the hospital. But this is no mere folk legend or rumor, this was a documented account of a supernatural event.... and the teller of the tale was none other than Dr. George Zeller himself!

Shortly after taking over the hospital, Dr. Zeller created a burial corps to deal with the disposal of those who passed away while in care of the hospital. The corps consisted of a staff member of the hospital and a half-dozen of the patients. While these men were still disturbed, all of them were competent enough to take part in the digging of the graves.

Of all of the gravediggers, the most unusual man, according to Dr. Zeller, was a fellow called A. Bookbinder. The man was completely mute so no one knew his real name. Apparently, the man had suffered a breakdown while working in a printing house, possibly in Chicago, and his mental illness had left him incapable of coherent speech. The officer who had taken him into custody merely wrote in his report that the man had been employed as "a bookbinder". A court clerk listed this as the man's name and he was sent to the hospital as A. Bookbinder.

Dr. Zeller described the man as being strong and healthy, although completely uncommunicative. Soon, the attendants enlisted him to assist in the burial corps. Strangely, "Old Book" as he began to be called was especially suited to the work. Ordinarily, when the coffin was being lowered, the gravediggers would stand back out of the way and wait silently for the funeral to end. At that point, they would set to filling the grave. Nearly every single patient at the hospital was a stranger and unknown to the staff, so the funeral services were mainly done out of respect, rather than because of personal attachment to the deceased. Because of this, everyone was a little surprised when, at his first internment, Old Book proceeded to remove his cap, wipe his eyes and begin weeping loudly for the patient who had died. He would do the same thing at each service.... first his sleeve would be used to wipe away his tears and then he would walk over and lean against the old elm that stood in the center of the cemetery and begin sobbing loudly. This tree, where Book would give vent to his grief, was known as the "Graveyard Elm". It was a massive old tree which had been standing for many years.

Time passed and eventually Old Book too passed away. Word spread among the employees and as Book was well-liked, and noted for his peculiarities, everyone decided they would attend his funeral. Dr. Zeller wrote that more than 100 uniformed nurses attended, along with the male staff members and several hundred of the patients. Dr. Zeller officiated the service. Old Book's casket was placed on two cross beams above his empty grave and four men stood by to lower it into the ground at the end of the service. Dr. Zeller wrote, "Just as the choir finished the last lines of 'Rock of Ages', the men grasped the ropes, stooped forward, and with a powerful, muscular effort, prepared to lift the coffin, in order to permit the removal of the crossbeams and allow it to gently descend into the grave. "At a given signal, they heaved away the ropes and the next instant, all four lay on their backs. For the coffin, instead of offering resistance, bounded into the air like an eggshell, as if it were empty!"

Needless to say, the spectators were a little shocked at this turn of events and the nurses were to said to have shrieked, half of them running away and the other half coming closer to the grave to see what was going on.

"In the midst of the commotion," Dr. Zeller continued, "a wailing voice was heard and every eye turned toward the Graveyard Elm whence it emanated. Every man and woman stood transfixed, for there, just as had always been the case, stood Old Book, weeping and moaning with an earnestness that outrivaled anything he had ever shown before.

After a few moments of this, Dr. Zeller summoned some men to remove the lid of the coffin, convinced that Old Book could not be inside of it. The lid was lifted and as soon as it was, the wailing sound completely stopped. Inside of the coffin lay the body of Old Book.... unquestionably dead. It was said that every eye looked upon the still corpse and then over to the Graveyard Elm. The apparition had vanished.

"It was awful, but it was real," Dr. Zeller wrote. "I saw it; 100 nurses saw it and 300 spectators saw it."

A few days later, the Graveyard Elm mysteriously began to wither and die. In spite of efforts to save it, the tree declined over the next year until it was completely dead. Later, after the dead limbs had dropped, workmen tried to remove the rest of the tree, but stopped working after the first cut of the ax caused the tree to emanate an "agonized, despairing cry of pain". After that, Dr. Zeller suggested the tree be burned, however as soon as the flames started around the tree's base, the workers quickly put them out. They later told Zeller that they heard a sobbing and crying sound coming from it.

"Today, Old Book's grave remains without headstone or monument," Dr. Zeller wrote about his shared experience. "But if anyone asks where he is, those of us in the know point with a shudder to the remains of the Graveyard Elm."

After the death of Dr. Zeller, the hospital remained in continuous use for many more years, adding buildings, patients and care facilities for children and tuberculosis patients. The institution finally closed down in 1972 and remained mostly empty for a number of years. In 1980, it was sold off at auction to anyone who would tear down the empty buildings but it soon became the property of the bank again when the buyer declared bankruptcy. The remaining hospital buildings are today the property of Winsley Durand Jr., who hopes to convert the place into office space. It is private property and trespassers are not allowed.

Even though trespassing is discouraged at the old hospital, it hasn't stopped vandals and would-be ghost hunters from going inside the place over the last three decades. Although many of these people have been less than kind to the old building, most are not looking to damage the structure... they are looking for ghosts. As with most abandoned structures of this kind, stories about ghosts and hauntings are common. What derelict dwelling has not been targeted as the local "haunted house" at one time or another? With buildings of this type, once a story gets started, its hard to stop..... except in this case, the stories appear to be true!


Most of the grounds of that old hospital were converted into an industrial park. I used to work, often alone, in a warehouse there that used to be a dormatory for the patients. You can see the areas in the basement walls where they bricked up the underground passages.

The only structure that is still unmodernized is the administrative building. Teens used to go in there to freak themselves out. Some Halloween tour group bought it and they give ghost tours this time of year. The place is a dump.

I never experienced anything freaky there, although kids who go in late at night have stories.
 
2012-10-31 12:30:31 PM  
Went to Waverly Hills this year on a mini tour. When we got to the fourth floor, where there are usually a lot of "shadow people" sightings, we stopped at the beginning of a long hallway, and the guide asked for a volunteer. A teenage boy next to me was like "Hell yeah" and ran up front. The guide told him to walk down the hall by himself til she told him to stop. He said no way. I said "Move it, I'll do it." So she repeated to walked down the hall til she tells me to stop. Okay, I was thinking about ten feet. Nope, far end of the hall which was about twenty yards. Then she tells me to stop and put out my arms, so I did. I had my back to everyone and I hear them saying stuff behind me about a ball of light and shadow people, which of course I couldn't see. Then I felt something start to pet my hair, like one would pet a cat or dog. It kinda creeped me out but it was funny at the same time. I had my arms stretched out and just beyond my vision of my right hand, I could hear something pacing, but I couldn't see it. I could see a figure in front of me, just a vaguely humanish shape without details, and I could see something break the light to the room just to my left. The guide asked me if I was moving my arms and I said no. She said that something kept blocking their vision of my right arm then (I guess whatever it was that I heard pacing). After about five minutes, she tells me to walk back slowly to the group. I rejoined them then we all walked down the hall together and to the staircase. While I was waiting on my turn to walk down the stairs, I said "It's still touching my hair" but this time it felt like it was just tickling the crown of my hair. After I said that, my friend in front of me turned around to look and as she turned her flashlight on, a lock of my hair went straight out then fell back down. Creepy but again, pretty fun.

When we went last year, one of the girls in my group ended up with four bright red scratch marks on her back while we were standing in the old OR. I had seen this girl change her shirt in the car and I'm pretty sure I would have noticed scratches like that if they were there before. She was wearing two layers of clothes (because it's cold in thurr, damnit) and whatever it was didnt hurt her clothes but scratched her pretty good.

Looking forward to doing an overnight soon. Would LOVE to see the little boy on the fifth floor.
 
2012-10-31 12:32:10 PM  
True story:

I remember an incident when my wife and I moved to a new house. It had taken us a while to get used to sleeping there due to living "in town" where there were constant sirens and traffic noise. I remember how horribly quiet it was. The slightest noise sounded amplified.

One night I remember half waking up and feeling her next to me. This, of course was not unusual at all but just a few minutes later I started hearing something in the hall. It sounded like footsteps. It invoked that horrible panic you feel when you were a little kid. Surely that's not really what I heard.

So I remained still, eyes shut in the hopes that I was imagining it. Trying to hear if it would happen again. Then I heard another step.This time it was real, no doubt. In fact, it was getting closer. There was someone in my house that should not be there.

By the time I decided to find out what it was (one or two seconds) I could hear steps in the room right in front of me. I had to open my eyes and take a look.

In my rapidly diminishing half-sleep I opened my eyes to see the blurry shape of a woman standing next to the bed moving in what looked like a shambling motion toward me. I about shiat myself.

I was so startled that I sat up in bed screaming in terror. All my childhood fears of the dark suddenly came true. The woman started screaming in return as if she too what frightened silly.

Then I realized, it was my wife... she had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and in my half-asleep state did not know she had left the bed.

We laughed about that for weeks.
 
2012-10-31 12:34:06 PM  

blatz514: Beer 'fridge

[aromacucina.typepad.com image 459x315]


You owe me a new pair of boxers
 
2012-10-31 12:34:56 PM  
From the time I was about 2 until 14/15 my mom, little brother and I lived with my grandparents. Their house wasn't all that old, the property it sat on used to be sugarcane fields my grandmother's family owned before it was split between my grandmother and her two sisters. My grandparents married, built a house on my grandmother's share of the land in the early 60's, nothing out of the ordinary, really.

From the time I was about 5 until maybe 13, I'd have this recurring nightmare where I'm in the hall, and this train comes barreling by, loaded with skeletons hanging out the windows, spanning between the cars themselves, chattering and talking loudly over the roar of the engine. The train would screech to a halt, and at this point I'm pressed up against the wall as flat as I could make myself, and two or three skeletons would begin reaching out and grabbing at my nightshirt, at which point I'd wake up. Always the same nightmare, maybe once a month or so, always ending the same way.

The dreams stopped after my uncle brought home an old, old map of the area, from the late 1800's. It didn't reveal any gravesites or have stories of horrible things happening on the land, but it did show the location of an old railroad track that cut through the property... almost perfectly down where the hall was.

Maybe not css, but I think it was more than coincidence.
 
2012-10-31 12:35:51 PM  
Well, here is my contribution.

My house in Ohio was built in 1910. When my ex and I were moving in, the busybody neighbors from across the street came over to meet us (more like size us up) and talk to us about the previous tenants. Like the fact that the plumbing in the house busted and they pissed in the garage (cue the bleach cleaning of that) and that the house had fallen into disrepair with the last owner who has rented the property out. We assured them that we intended to fix it up as best we could, and then the old fart told us a story.

The house had been owned by a couple for many years. They were the ones responsible for most of the "garden" around the property. Apparently the old lady would get up every morning and walk about weeding the yard. One morning she had a heart attack and collapsed on the lawn, dead. Her husband inside continued to live in the house for a couple years past that but eventually went insane and was placed in a nursing home, where he eventually passed away. The neighbor was very explicit about the fact that they LOVED the house.

Well, being the owner of a house where a previous owner had died in the lawn was not really disconcerting. I figure that since the dawn of time people and animals have probably died over most of the surface of the Earth. Why be paranoid? Whenever something weird would happen in the house, we used to joke that the old lady was about.

One incident that still boggles my mind is the evening I was watching TV in the living room. My ex was in the office. While sitting there, one of the dogs started growling at the entryway. And not just a low growl, his hackles were up and he was quite disturbed. At first I saw nothing, but then the TV started flickering like some sort of electrical interference. The dog finally started barking, and he ran up to the entryway and then yelped like he was struck. My ex barrelled into the living room and asked me what happened. I told him, and we both just figured that it was the old lady.

Not overly scary, but it's all that I've got.
 
2012-10-31 12:35:57 PM  

Znuh: So, CSB time, and made super-creepy by FARK, of all things.

True story, etc.

I was 14, sitting in my parent's 'posh' front room where the nice furniture was. Mom and Dad had stepped out to pick up dinner, and it was night. I was sitting in front of my big-ass stereo, one of the old-school rack jobs, where the record player sat on top of the amp, which sat on top of the tuner, which sat on top of the tape deck. Headphones on, commence listening to music.

About twenty minutes in, I get this insane feeling of being watched. Not a casual 'hey, someone's there' vibe, but full-blown creeps; gooseflesh, hair on back of neck, etc. I whip my head around to the right to look out the window all the way across the room and bam, there's this dude in a cloak and a wide brimmed hat staring at me, through the window.

I could barely make out any features save for the fact he was tall, wore a cloak and had a wide-brimmed hat like something out of High Plains Drifter. What horrified me was he seemed to instantly amplify the fear I felt and reflect it back, his face pulled into this crazy rictus of a maniacal grin. The moment I made eye contact (all of 2 seconds if that) boom, vanished. Gone.

Then I instantly felt the same damn creepy gooseflesh vibe from my other side. I whip my head around to the left and the Hat Man is standing in the hallway looking and silently laughing at me. Again, the moment I made eye contact, boom, gone.

I never thought much of it later, until last week I brought it up on another creepy thread here on FARK. Never heard anyone else talk about it in my life, until another FARKer brought it up that the 'hat man' or 'man in hat' is something that's been seen by a lot of other people.

Bullshiat, I thought. I googled 'shadow people' + 'hat man'.

The first link had a drawing, and damned if it wasn't the same *@@(* thing I saw in the Hallway. Multpile people with the same descriptions, etc.

So, thanks fellow FARKers, for re-energizing something I thought was long gone, and for freaking me out all over again.


I spoke to the Hat Man.

I took my girlfriend (now wife) home one night, and passed him at an intersection precisely at midnight. On the trip home I discovered him standing on the road out front of my house. He asked, "Do you want something?" I said no and ran inside like a little pussy. I figured he was either a drifter or the devil (at the crossroads at midnight).
 
2012-10-31 12:41:41 PM  

Wolf892: I was 15 years old and it was the first summer where my parents decided to take a weeklong vacation to visit my grandmother. This was great for me for two reasons, the first, I was allowed to stay home alone for the week, and the second, my mother had left me a 4 gallon tub of bubblegum ice-cream that she had told me to go wild on.
I stayed awake every night late, watching Japanese anime, drinking root-beer and eating the heck out of that bubble gum ice cream. I was in 15 year old boy Heaven.
On the second to last night of the week everything was going the same. It was three o clock in the morning when I finally finished the last episode of "bubblegum crisis" (which I'd loved watching while eating bubblegum ice-cream) and decided it was time to go downstairs to bed.
So I did.
I'm not sure what time it was when I woke up, my room was dark, I was laying in bed facing my wall and I could tell that if I didn't get out of bed my bladder was going to burst.
As I started to turn over in my bed so that I could climb out, something happened that to this day (34 years old now) I'll never forget.
From right beside my head, almost like a breath away from my ear I heard as clear as day a voice. The voice was strange though because it was devoid of all inflection, all tone, all emotion. It only spoke three words to me...
"Don't turn around"
That was it, nothing more, nothing less. But I didn't question that voice. It was so clear, so close to my head and so flat and inhuman in its substance that held my bladder and did not turn around to get out of bed until I could see the second rays of sunlight peaking through my curtain the next morning.
Just... "Don't turn around."


The commissar's in town?
 
2012-10-31 12:45:09 PM  
Where i went to college (between Grateful Dead shows):
Mount St. Mary's University was founded in 1808. According to Father Daniel Nusbaum, campus historian, in 1805, a circuit-riding priest, John DuBois, became tired while on a road between Frederick and Emmitsburg. He saw a light on a mountain and thought it was a farmhouse, so he rode toward it. He couldn't find the house and decided to sleep. When he awoke, he discovered a majestic scene of hills and fields. DuBois decided to stay to build a church and school. Today, its grounds are haunted.

Brute Hall, Room 252 Poltergeist

The dorm was named for the Rev. Simon Brute, a college president. Legend has it that he glides on the campus wearing a long black robe. He normally smiles, nods and moves on.

A priest lived in Room 252, actually, a suite with bedroom, sitting room/office and bathroom, when many of the professors lived on campus. One night he straightened his room, went out for a few minutes and returned to find everything in total disorder. Lights and the television flashed on and off at random times. He moved out. Another priest moved in. When his cat began hissing at strange times and scurrying under the bed in fear, he moved out.

Father Daniel lived in the room. When he was sleeping, objects were moved around. A mantle clock would move from one end to another and, sometimes, to the middle. The bed moved. Interior doors mysteriously opened and shut. At night, he heard the bathroom door squeakily open, saw the light turned on and the door shut. He wasn't afraid of the phenomena.

After he moved out the room was turned into one for students. In 1997, three students moved in. They witnessed a falling mirror and flushing toilet.

Brendan McMahon lived in 252 and experienced weird happenings. He and some friends were watching TV and sometimes, for no reason, the TV began jumping from channel to channel. He said the school put a bookshelf on the place where Brute died. Glasses fell off the shelves by themselves in the middle of the night.

McCaffrey Hall

Leander, a slave, worked for the college in the mid-1800s and lived on the first floor. He was accused of stealing. Because of this, his left hand was cut off and buried in the quadrangle. While Leander was eventually freed, he stayed at the college. When he died, he was buried in the college's cemetery. Residents of the hall have reported seeing a severed hand and hearing fingers scratching on dorm windows.

Civil War Soldier

He promised the woman he loved that he would think of her while in battle. They agreed to look at the sky and gaze upon the same star every night. When the soldier was killed at Gettysburg, he was buried, face down, in an old well. His ghost wanders about Mount Saint Mary's, tapping people on their shoulders as if he wants them to turn him over so he can see the sky.

Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton

She was the first American-born person who was canonized. Her ghost appears dressed in a floor-length cloak and bonnet with a Bible in one hand and rosary beads in the other. Her apparition is often seen walking beside a man who appears to be, by some, her father, a doctor. She was seen by wounded Civil War soldiers when the school was used as a hospital and she helped doctors heal the patients.

The Fr. Brute referenced above, his ghost is known to appear to troubled students, wearing vintage robes, giving them a pep talk urging the student not to give up.
 
2012-10-31 12:48:42 PM  
My favorite thread of the year. I actually have something to contribute now.

I live in a small country in West Africa, often considered the home of voodoo. Lots of slaves who left here two hundred years ago went to Haiti and that's why voodoo is such an important part of their culture there.

While the country is mostly Christian and Muslim now, voodoo still permeates lfie. There are voodoo markets with shrunken animal heads and all sorts of other fetishes. Even those who don't believe in voodoo still avoid doing anything to anger a witch doctor "just in case..."

Anyway, one of the legends around here is that many of the trees on the beaches were used by old voodoo worshipers as "trees of remembrance" to help them always remember their homes as they were being shipped as slaves, and as "trees of forgetting" to help them realize they were never coming back and that they should not hold on to the past, but rather look forward. They would often walk around these trees in a circle 40 times while carrying old amulets (again, shrunken animal heads and other charms).

Some of these trees are near my house by the beach. Before I knew what these trees were used for, I would walk my dog down by the beach and she would run after anything that moved, like birds or small crabs. But she would never get close to the tree of forgetting. She would actively try to avoid it and would whimper when I'd try to take her close to it.

One night I went out a little later than normal and it was already dark (it's recommended that you don't go to the beach at night due to criminals). I had my dog with me and people here are really scared of dogs, so I figured I would be ok. When I was about 200 yards from the trees of remembering and forgetting, I started to hear what sounded like a weird chant. My dog acted like she caught the scent of something and started practically running in the direction of the trees. As I got closer, I still couldn't see the trees, but the chanting was louder. I assumed there was some local party or something going on. That wouldn't be unusual.

My dog kept pulling me in that direction until we were about 50 yards away. It was so odd because she kept pulling and pulling - the opposite of what she normally did by the tree of forgetting. By now I was close enough to see what was causing it, and all I saw were little puffs of sand rising from the beach around one of the trees. No people, no party. Nothing.

Sudden my dog ripped away from me and instead of running away from the beach, she ran right to the tree. I chased her and got there a few seconds later. I don't know when the noise stopped, but now it was completely silent except for the waves. I looked around wondering where the people went, but I didn't see anybody. But what I did see, and what still gives me goose bumps, were footprints all around the trees. I don't know where they could have come from, but they were there and they looked fairly fresh. Normally the amount of wind would whip the sand all over the place and erase footprints relatively quickly.

I took my dog back home, got into bed, and basically stared at the ceiling until the next morning.

Later I found out that the legend goes that if the voodoo worshipers walked around the tree of forgetting in the wrong direction, they would be doomed to come back and repeat the ritual until they got it right.

I don't normally believe in the supernatural, but this was a really strange experience for me.
 
2012-10-31 12:54:42 PM  
I posted this last year, but it's absolutely a true one.

A few years ago I moved into a house with a couple of my friends. We got a ridiculously good deal on the rental price, since it was a friend's family's place. An old house, that my friend's grandfather had built himself, and in which both he and his wife lived until they died. Actually, that's why we got it so cheaply, because the grandmother had recently died in the house, and I guess they were still trying to figure out if they were going to sell or keep the house. One cold winter evening, I was sitting at home by myself downstairs watching tv, when I started hearing this tapping noise coming from upstairs. It wasn't even a regular tapping, but more of a "tap. tap. tap tap tap tap....... tap tap. tap." kind of thing. Definitely not dripping, or expanding/contracting pipes, etc. Like I said, I was alone, and this was pretty freaky. I turned on all of the lights downstairs and headed up to check out what was going on. Once I got to the top of the stairs, I realized it was still above me, coming from the attic. This was one of those houses with the pull-down stairs to the attic, and with no way to turn the lights on until you get up there. So, I turned on the upstairs lights, went and got a headlamp, getting ready to go up. The tapping was continuing the whole time, and was definitely loud, and now I could tell it wasn't even staying in the same place. I pulled down the stairs, and the tapping stopped. Holding my headlamp above my head, I went up there, wildly trying to look everywhere at once, since I was basically coming up out of a trap door. And there it was. Right in front of me. A monstrous shape, all spindly legs and eyes, easily three feet tall, right in front of me, eyes glinting in the light; a giant spider-like thing three feet across. And then I realized it was just a Halloween decoration I had put up there months before to scare my roommates when they went up next, but I just scared the crap out of myself for a few seconds. It later turned out the tapping had been crows, which for some reason decided they enjoyed pecking at the ice on the roof.
 
2012-10-31 12:54:53 PM  

meg12279: My father in law died about six months before I got pregnant with my son, his first grandchild. Pretty much right after he was born, we started hearing footsteps in his room, and we'd find him tucked in when neither one of us had done it, or if we couldn't find one of his stuffed animals when we put him to bed, it would somehow be in his crib when we got him in the morning. He would throw his pacifier out of the crib, and I'd go in to get it and it would be in his mouth.

Once, when he was about six weeks old, my husband came home from work and I asked him to take Henry (our son) so I could have a break. He asked to just get something to eat first, and I said fine, and took Henry into the office. The chair in there rocks, so I was sitting there, facing away from the door, he fell asleep, and I had my eyes closed. I felt someone walk into the room and put their hand on the back of the chair. Naturally I thought it was my husband, and I think he's going to think we're asleep and tiptoe out so he doesn't have to take his turn with the baby. I sit there until I feel him start to walk away, then I spin around and am ready to bust him, but no one is there. I go out to the living room and he's sitting on the couch eating. Hadn't been in the room. Then I realized I'd smelled cigarette smoke, and niether of us smoke-but my father in law did.

Similar stuff kept happening, and one day when Henry was maybe 4 months old I had him in his exersaucer. I heard footsteps, smelled cigarette smoke, and Henry started looking up and waving and laughing at someone. I said "Wayne, we miss you, and you can come see Henry any time, just please don't scare him." Then I heard a man's cough, in the room with me. I was home alone.

It's kind of nice, really.


You tell this story every year, and every year it makes me happy reading it.
 
2012-10-31 12:57:35 PM  
Not a ghost story, but likely the creepiest thing that ever happened to me...

I've always had a very active imagination and can still work myself scared silly when alone at night. One time, however, it was actually justified.

What others have described as feelings of "cold, malevolent evil," goosebumps, crawling in their stomach, etc. is something that, thanks to a grade school teacher, I always think of as "the uh-oh bells." Well, one sunny morning, rather than a dark and stormy night, I was home alone. My parents would leave for work and my sisters for school before me, so I always had time to myself.

Just before my mom left, she was trying to put laundry in one of my sister's rooms and the door was strangely locked (sister was already out of the house). I picked the lock (i.e. stuck a toothpick in that little opening that pops simple inside door locks), put the laundry away, and mom left. After a while, I felt "uh-oh bells" like crazy. I did not feel safe in that house. I ended up leaving for school early, terrified to stay another minute, and read at the bus stop for half an hour.

When I came home from school, we had been robbed. Apparently, my black sheep sister had allowed her shady boyfriend to stay the night. He'd been hiding in her room the whole time.
 
2012-10-31 12:59:17 PM  

The Muthaship: blatz514: Beer 'fridge

[aromacucina.typepad.com image 459x315]

Hold me.


It's easier to hold people when you've had the beer.
 
2012-10-31 1:01:56 PM  
One afternoon, I was out hunting on one of those sweet Inland Empire Southern California days.......not a care in the world. It was a beautiful day, smoking some bud, enjoying the scenery. I was out enjoying the natural beauty all around me too late in to the day and was way too far away from my car to make it back before nightfall. I came across a weird old one-room cabin that had a cot and nice recliner in it. I smoked a little more, listened to the sounds of the desert, and eventually fell asleep. Middle of the night, I woke up and figured I'd shuffle over to the cot and stretch out.
As I moved over to the cot, I noticed two paintings on the far wall that I hadn't noticed when I first arrived. They were both pictures of some creepy distorted faces, probably 3 or 4 faces in each painting looking back at me.......almost like the eyes were following me around the cabin. I figured the painter was really tripping to come up with some vivid paintings like that. Especially to hang in this old cabin way out in God's country in the middle of Imperial County.
I lay down and stared at those damn paintings, those distorted twisted faces looking back at me until I finally dozed off. I didn't wake until the light of a new morning.
When I woke up, I looked over at the paintings. There were no paintings on that wall. Only 2 windows.....
 
2012-10-31 1:03:25 PM  

Harv72b: So I was in the U.S. Army in my younger years, and my first duty station was Fort Irwin, California, aka the National Training Center, located smack dab in the middle of Mojave Desert ("30 miles from water, 3 feet from hell"). Nowadays they do these elaborate urban pacification exercises in full-blown "Arab" villages built in the desert there, but back then we were still doing brigade-sized force on force training...in layman's terms, we tore through the desert playing laser tag, only instead of little plastic guns we used assault rifles, machine guns, tanks, helicopters, and even jets. Every month they'd bring in a different unit from some other base in the U.S. and we'd roll out and "kill" them repeatedly in the hopes that they'd learn how not to die when people were shooting real rounds at them.

My job was in intelligence, which primarily consisted of listening in on the visiting unit's communications during the exercises. On one night, one of our teams was monitoring a radio frequency and heard one unit reporting back to their field headquarters:

Dispatched team: Hey, uh, base...look, I know this is going to sound weird and, uh, I don't want to be that guy, but...we're being followed by some kind of light in the sky and we have no idea what it is.
Base: Say again?
Team: It's just a light in the sky, it's been following us for a couple minutes now. I don't want to say "UFO", but...
Base: Is it moving? It might just be one of the radio repeater towers on the hills.
Team: Negative base, it is moving. It is not a helicopter and it's not any kind of aircraft any of us has seen before.
Base: Send your position, please.
Team: [sends encrypted grid coordinates] This is really freaking us out, base.
Base: Stand by.

A couple minutes pass, at which point the team calls in again:

Team: Disregard, base, it's gone now. We're going to go ahead and continue mission.
Base: Roger.

About ten minutes later our crew picked up another transmission on that network:
Team: ...


I'm confused here. Are you saying that an entire team of people just disappeared?

Seems a little far fetched to me. You think there would be investigations from family member, death notices, funerals and such.
 
2012-10-31 1:04:06 PM  

echo5juliet: Bathia_Mapes: Still haven't read one that topped the spooky story posted by echo5juliet in the 2008 thread. Still gives me the creeps everytime I read it. For those who missed it the first time around or just want to experience it again, here it is:

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.

So I was driving by myself in the afternoon. I stopped in Amboy and snapped a picture of the city sign, just to prove I was there to friends who dared me to take that route to I-40. I got back in my car and proceeded to drive up into the mountain range between Amboy and I-40.

Once I reach the top I am driving north through a canyon with high grass on both sides of the road. Up ahead I see some stuff in the middle of the road. As I approach I slow down to see a red Pontiac Fiero stopped sideways across both lanes, a suitcase open with clothes scattered everywhere and two bodies laying face down in the road, a man and a woman.

I stop a hundred feet or so away and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Being a Marine, I reach under the seat and pull out a 9mm pistol and chamber a round. Something seemed very wrong, it looked too perfect as if it were staged. An ambush? Was I being paranoid? Something was just wrong. Getting out of the car seemed unthinkable, it was the horror movie move.

As I scanned the road I saw a line I could drive. Pass the guy in the road on his left, swerve to the right side of the woman, behind the Fiero and I'd be on the other side. I dropped it into first gear, punched it and drove the line I planned.

I passed the back of the Fi ...


In the driver's seat?
You nearly ran over me!
Nut!
 
2012-10-31 1:05:22 PM  
For those of you who keep mentioning the horribleness of sleep paralysis you'll be interested in what the Germans call alps.
 
2012-10-31 1:07:52 PM  
I had just finished seeing the "Band" and was hanging out at the Student Center at SUNY stony brook. I ran into a group i knew who wanted to hold a Seance at some house in Mt. Sinai. They needed 13 people so I went along with my friend Bill. We were told that the prior owner had killed himself and we were going to attempt to contact him with the Ouigi board.
when we all got there we found a back door that was opened and we all entered one by one and we were attacked by a flock of Grackles. This was real and terrifying everyone witnessed it and they all disappeared as quickly as they attacked us.
We than unsteadily found our way into the dining room where we found a furnished table and chairs and commenced to hold our seance. We never got anything but negative remarks from the board just "leave" and short negative words . After about a hour of this we heard loud banging noises from upstairs. I thought it might be some homeless squatter. We continued to hold hands and try to communicate with the ghost . My Friend Tim Buckley (no connection to the singer) went into a panic fit and we still hung out while he rocked back and forth in pure terror. This whole affair lasted from 11pm till about 12:30. I finally had had enough and told the leader that whatever or whomever was in this house does not want us here and I had enough. The leader told me i would be breaking up the group of 13 but i told him "tuff". It was the longest sustained horror I have ever endured. I am sure if I had seen a ghost I would have had a full melt down. Fortunately we never did see anything we just herd the banging. I went past that house it was demolished (about a month later). I still talk to Bill who shares the same dread of that evening.
 
Ab3
2012-10-31 1:08:33 PM  
(Hope you guys are being entertained by these instead of annoyed...)

WHAT ROUGH BEAST


Everyone thought she had gone home hours ago, no one noticed her car parked behind a dumpster near the back of the complex. She hid herself in a cramped room with high shelves stacked with petri dishes, latex gloves and medical equipment. Alone there she waited, waited for the late shift to end and the custodial staff to finish their rounds.

Bored and terrified all at once Dr. Linda Harrison went over her memories one by one, examining them like samples suspended in formaldehyde.

It had begun for her five years ago, a young professor of primatology fresh out of school and swimming in debt. She had no family, and had been to busy for anything more than academic pursuits. The Balock Corporation's offer had been too lucrative to resist, she'd have her student and car loans paid off in two years if she was frugal enough. All she knew going in is that she would be working as a consultant for a team of cardiologists, urologists and geneticists.

She wasn't naive, she knew it wasn't the Goodall institute she was going to work for. These were ethically nebulous medical experiments involving primates, but she rationalized it she told herself that these weren't real apes these were livestock bred for only one purpose.

Of course it wasn't that simple, nothing in life ever is.

The apes had been genetically engineered with human DNA. The goal was to create a resource for transplants. Apes with blood types and cellul