Eerie Stuff

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karma

When I returned from college, around 92′, I worked at a downtown bar that was a ballroom in the early 1920’s. It was said that Al Capone and all the other gangsters used to frequent there on a regular basis. Well over time it had been opened as many resturaunts and even at one time was an old movie house.

I started there as a bartender, I worked Mon, Tues, Thurs, Fri and Sat til 4:00 am. The weekends were packed, standing room only. The first part of the week we did not get much of a bar crowd. So I would sit there and watch Kung-Foo on USA network and smoke cigarettes. Since I am a big guy, the owner showed me where the gun was and they left. So every week night I was alone from 10:00 pm to 4:00 am.

My first encounter with the ghost came on a Monday morning around 2:30 am (I will never forget this). I was washing the last of the bar ware and starting my closing crap to get out at 4:00. The bar was one huge square and across from the dish well, where we did our dishes, was a corner mirror. On each wall was a mirror that met at the right at the corner. As I was washing everything I could see myself and what was behind me.

Now before I start this I have to say I was a skeptic of the paranormal. I believe in what I see. Well that all changed in a six month period.

Now as I said while at the sinks, I would watch the mirror for anyone who tried to creep in and rob me. This night I look and no one was there, I did not here the sqeak that the front door made. I could always tell when someone walked in by that sound. The next time I looked up there is a huge figure standing right behind me in the mirror. I almost shit my pants thinking some thief finally got me. I spin around ready for a fight and nobody was there. I think OK your just imagining things. Little too much on the Stephen King novels. So I go back to work. I look up again, same figure right behind me. This time instead of spinning around I watch the figure. I stands ther and shifts, I hear no sound, It was not a trick of the light, it just stood there while it kinda shifted. I really don’t have a word to descibe it. I can see it clearly in my mind but to put it to words is hard. I am 6″3″ and this thing had maybe a foot on me. So this time I turn around slowly, nobody, I look back to the mirror and its gone. Now I know what I had seen. It had form and some detail. It was not a shadow or a trick of the eye.

Over the next four years working there, when I was alone, this thing would play games with me. It would cause things to fall, the bathroom doors would open etc, etc, etc. My wife, I met there. She used to come in and sit with me on the slow nights. One night she went into the bathroom, a second later she screams. I run in ready to kill some pervert that I thought had snuck in the ladies room. I meet her in the hall, she is hysterical, couldn’t even speak. I go in every fucking door in the ladies room (12 doors) are opening and closing in rapid succession. I stand there stunned, and watch this happen for a minute or so. She left never to go back in there unless a lot of people were there.

We have had cleaning people leave in the middle of their shifts, refusing to return to work, unless someone else would be there. The place next to us was renevated from an old ballroom to a concert hall. Denny the manager would not go into the hall unless someone else was there. He told me one night he was booking bands and setting up schedules, he hears a noise outside the office. When he walked out, all the lights shut off and he looks up the grand staircase, descending down the stair case is a female figure that he said “sort of glowed”, he also tried to produce the noise the form was making. It was sort of a whispering scream. Needless to say he ran out of there and would never stay late again.

Our cook Jimmy used to do part-time work over there. Setting up sound equipment, cleaning, basically the “everything” guy. We got to talking about the shit that happened to us, he starts to tell me that one night, after a Battle of the Bands tourny, he was cleaning up. He went downstairs to grab the cleaning equipment. The closet door slams shut and everthing on the shelf starts to shake violently. The mops and brooms all fall off their pegs and he described a sound of someone screaming upstairs. He never worked there again. The next day he walked into to Denny’s office and told him what happened. Denny said he understood and they left it at that.

I used to talk with the manager and the other bartenders, they said since I was the new guy, that’s why I got those shifts. They would not work them. They would tell me their the things that would happen to them. Very much the same that was happening to me. I didn’t care, I was making money and this thing never touched me, just mind fuck you. At the end of the night it would try and talk to me, I would be in the office and I would hear someone shout “HEY YOU” or just a low moan or a scream from next door. I know I was the only person when it happened. At closing I would do a walk-through with a flashlight and a 9-iron from my car. I checked upstairs and downstairs, no one.

After a while I used to taunt it to see what would happen. Usually the screaming would become more frequent or doors would open but no harm would befall me. I dealt with that for over four years. I heard and had seen some freaky shit. I just took all the shifts that nobody would take. I go back home from time to time and see the old place. The new crowd of bartenders know me, but not all that well. One time I asked this kid about it, he was the new early week bartender. He didn’t say anything but just looked at me and he his face had turned white. O yea, he knew what I was talking about.

Shade Fell

i have really shitty vision & i see things out of the corners of my eyes a lot. like, hands reaching for me, black cats (or cat like shapes) leaping toward or away from me, all kinds of crazy shit. it used to really scare me, but now i realize that i just see things out of the corners of my eyes (beyond the field of my glasses) that are blurry, and my brain translates them into things.

however, when i dormed at UIC, i started hearing things as well. notably, in the laundry room. now, my dorm at UIC (university of illinois at chicago) was on the west side, in what used to be a mental hospital. all the dorm doors still had the observation windows. they had simply boarded them over. classy, huh?

anyway, the first floor is the cafeteria/etc, the second floor has offices and links to another building, the third floor is more offices, the computer lab, and the tv lounge, and floors 4-8 were dorms. the “pent house” above the 8th floor was the laundry room, as well as housing all sorts of electrical rooms. there was an elevator from the 1st to the 8th floor, which was almost constantly broken or filled with urine (yay drunken fresmen!), and then there were stairs leading to the “pent house.”

the light in the stairs leading to the penthouse was almost constantly burnt out. now, i eventually got a job with the university, and i knew the cleaning/maintance people. they replaced the bulb all the time, and it burnt out immediatly. it didn’t get smashed or stolen, burnt out. there was no electrical reason for it, either… no shorts or anything. i fell down those stairs twice. both times, i swear i felt a hand shoving me.

i used to babysit my laundry when it was washing and drying. i’d do homework or read or paint my nails and keep an eye on my clothes, as the ass fuck residents liked to steal laundry, or just pull all the clothes out of machines and dump them on the floor. my friend neil had someone steal ALL his boxer shorts, and more than once i went up to the laundry room to get my dry clothes, only to find that they’d been pulled out of the machine and dumped on the floor while wet, so somebody else could use the machine i paid for. assholes!

anyway, while up in the laundry room, which was a full flight of stairs above the top residential floor, with nothing but roof above it, i frequently heard the sound of a woman crying. there was nobody in the room with me, and it sounded like it was coming from the other side of the many locked doors (leading to supply closets and circuit breakers, nothing else) or from the roof, or from outside the windows… which didn’t have anything beneath them. creepy as all hell. sometime’s i’d hear low voices and a slapping sound, and then the crying would be louder.

i eventually moved to a different dorm with a different laundry room, and no longer heard the crying. however, when i moved in with morley, i was awakened one night by the same crying sound… a whimpering, drawn out “huuu huuu huu… a hu huu huuu…” sound. it comes from various parts of the building, usually places where nobody is. scary.

dojokm

The talk of mirrors reminded me of something that happened to my brother. One night, a few years ago, I was babysitting him while my parents were out. It was relatively late at night, 11ish (hey I was like 14), and he was getting ready for bed. The bathroom he was using was set up so that when you walked in, the sink and mirror were right in front of you. So, when you looked in the mirror, you could see out the door. Well, he was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror when I heard him scream. I came running up the steps and asked him what was wrong. He said he saw “a head come out of the door frame.” I dismissed him and told him he was imagining it, but he insists to this day that he saw a head.

geno1304

the house i live in was owned by my dads aunt. She was and is i think very evil. She died in a hospital and the last thing she whispered was “Dont give anything to this woman in the next bed”.
That happened when my father brought her some juice and mineralwater and the old Lady in the next bed asked for some.
I lived alone here and one morning i found her walking stick in the kitchen at the place she always kept it. It was in the basement before.
No, i dont sleepwalk.

a

the place I work in is in a VERY old building, it was built around 1730, I think.
so, last Monday, as always, I’m the first to get in the computer room, and what do I see? All the monitors had little hand marks on their screens. At first, I thought that the janitor’s kids had come on the weekend, so I asked him if he knew something, he told me that no one had entered the computer room during the weekend, and that his kids were in another town since Friday.
OK, I told to myself. It could’ve been my boss’ grandsons, so I ask her about it. No, she says, I travelled with my family Saturday morning.
Well, I thought, one of them is lying, and doesn’t want to admit that it was their fault.
Fast forward to this Monday. I’m alone in the computer room, it’s 14:20, and I have to the bathroom downstairs. When I return, what do you think?. Several little hand marks on MY monitor.

WhiteHowler

I used to have to walk to school every morning. My parents worked early, and the school buses (for some stupid reason) didn’t come through my neighborhood. The walk was about a mile and a half through a quiet residential area.

One morning when I was in 6th grade, my alarm had failed to go off, and I awoke about 15 minutes before school started. I threw on some clothes, grabbed my backpack, and ran out the door. I was running so fast that I was probably leaving fiery trails like the DeLorean in Back to the Future.

About halfway to school, I thought I heard faint footsteps, like someone else was running behind me. At that age, I was always quite paranoid about being kidnapped, even though I lived in a pretty nice area. I glanced back in a panic, but there was nobody there. Ah well, gotta get to school…

I ran another two blocks, and this time I distinctly heard footsteps, right behind me. I swiveled my body around (while still running at full speed) to look. After about a second, I “heard” a voice. I put the quotes around the word, because to this day I’m not sure whether it was spoken aloud or simply appeared in my head.

“DUCK.”

With a feat of agility I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of, I managed to twist and crouch down as I came to a stop. When I looked up again, I saw that I had just passed a large moving truck parked partially on the sidewalk. One of the back doors was open, swaying in the breeze — across the sidewalk I had just run down. I had not seen it at all, and when I ran under it, my head must have cleared it by less than a centimeter. If I hadn’t ducked, I would have hit it REALLY hard.

I took a moment to look around, but I didn’t see anybody. I ran on to school and managed to get there (relatively) on time.

Over the following two or three weeks, I’d often hear somebody else’s footsteps on that same street. It happened almost every day, but always at a different location, or coming from a different side. There was never any visible source, nor any other people around. Within a month, it abruptly stopped. Nothing strange ever happened on that street again.

Potty_of_Chojin

I go to a very very very old Women’s Catholic College. Our orms are atleast 100 years old, prolly morew and they used to house the Nuns that now livein a convent. So needless to say the dead Nuns like to fuck with us.

The first floor has two sets of locks on their doors because at around 2:30 am the locks just start unlocking. and these are dead bolt locks so its alittle odd to be writing a paper at 2 am and your door unlocks. and it’s ONLY the first floor.

The elevator has the ghost of a nun that fell down the shaft. Every 3rd day of the month at aboout 4:46am (if you are in the elevator) the lights will flash, it the door will open between floors. and there is a scream. One of the nuns killed herself on a 3rd of some month and now she does it every month.

During the day random marbles will roll across the floor above you. No matter what floor. I live on the 4th floor (top) this year and 1st last year and it does it on either.

One of the rooms no one is allowed to sleep in because two former students commited suicide there and people have claimed the walls bleed, but not only that they will find random papers every time the clena up (to move in or out) with copys of the suicide notes on it. And the lights don’t work in the room.. no matter how many times they fix it.

There are also passages from building to building underground. For when North Jersey got really bad snow storms and the Nun’s needed to get out. They are well lit and cleaned abd everything but no one wants to use them. You always hear does shutting down there and the sound of body’s hit the floor (like the 9/11 video)

therapy

I’m personally of the opinion that there’s a ton of shit we can’t explain yet, but I don’t know for sure if they’re ghosts of the dead. I mean, maybe “life energy” (for lack of a better term) gets absorbed by places, so that traumatic events are “replayed” occasionally or something. Who knows? I used to not believe in any of this. Ever. Then I had some weird, unexplicable things happen to me, and now I’m going to say that I’m skeptical, but at least I admit there’s something weird going on at times.

Story 1
When I was in 10th grade, I used to get out of Gym to go to Study Hall since I was on the football team. Anyway, the Study Hall teacher didn’t mind if I would leave that room and go to the theater to study, since it was quieter with less idiots. One day, I was in the backstage area, reading through my math book and doing math homework, when I heard what sounded like high piano music. Not really music, but more like someone tapping the two highest keys repeatedly without rhythm. I looked across the stage to where the grand piano was, and nobody was at it, but the key-guard cover thing was down. As soon as I got up to walk over to the piano, the noise stopped.

I got there, and looked at the keys, no movement or anything. I looked in the piano, and the piano wires/cables were absolutely still, as were the little feet things that tap into them. I closed the key-guard, and walked back to my homework. As I was walking back, I heard what sounded like a breath in my ear…that might have been wind or something, since the doors to the theater were open. As soon as I had sat back down, I heard the noise again, this time a little bit louder. I looked back over at the piano, and the key-guard was back up. I didn’t think anyone was in the theater, although it was possible, but that floor creaked like a motherfucker, and I didn’t hear anybody walking on it. Plus, I couldn’t see anyone at the keyboard when it was making noise. (I couldn’t even tell if the keys were moving, because the keyboard was clear across thes stage).
Anyway, I packed up my homework and got out. Went to the gym and finished the rest.

Story 2
I was at my ex-girlfriend’s house in the Black Forest area of Colorado Springs. It’s as creepy as it sounds. Think of a bunch of houses, 40+ years old, all out in the woods, a good 10 miles from anything. Dirt roads, etc. At night, it’s dead silent, and pitch black except for stars, as there’s no streetlights. Anyway, I’m at her house waiting for her to get home from work, and I decide to make myself a sandwich.

I open the fridge and duck my head in to get stuff, reaching into the meat drawer. I suddenly hear the door slam, and footsteps. I figure “Oh, cool, she’s home. We can go out and eat instead.” and I close the fridge door. I walk around into the family room, and nothing. The door’s not open. No jacket on the stand, no backpack, nothing. I yell “Hello?” and get silence in reply. I KNOW I heard the footsteps and the door slam. It was as clear as day. So now I’m a bit freaked. I start turning on every light in the area, including the TV so I can have some background noise. I walk back into the kitchen.

I open the fridge again, and start getting the sandwich stuff. As I close the door, I hear nothing. That’s weird, I left the TV on. I go around back into the family room again, and the TV is off. Ok, now majorly freaked. I walk over to turn it on, and as soon as I press the button, it turns right back off. Skeptically, I think “Ok, the TV is broken” and walk back into the kitchen to finish this sandwich. I hear what sounds like a little girl laughing outside. And I think “Oh, that’s it! Her little sister fucking did this!” and feeling an immense sigh of relief, I go to the back porch and look out.

Now, the backyard was a mess of trees and unfinished yardwork. The house was on 5 acres, but none of it was landscaped, except for a small garden by the window. The trees were really forest like, but with all the underbrush removed for clear walking through them. I look out to this, about 7-8pm at night, and it’s pitch black (since it was winter). I see a light coming from behind a tree. Somebody with a flashlight? I put my glasses back on. No…it’s not moving like a flashlight…and there’s one behind that other tree too. Oh, shit. They’re behind almost all the trees. But what is it? It’s like a white fog/mist type thing. No shape to it. Just really strange. They’re all moving different directions, so the wind isn’t moving them. I close my eyes for 10 seconds, and say this out loud “Ok, I don’t care what you’re here for, I don’t care what you’re doing, I don’t care if you want to stay here. I just want you to never prove that you exist to me. No noises, smells, tastes, visions, or touches. Give it up. You leave me alone, I leave you alone. deal?” and then I open my eyes. They’re still there. Aw fuck.

So I wonder if they’re just some fog or something (in the winter in colorado it’s usually far too cold for fog) and then I think “Hey, maybe there’s like a pack of deer or coyotes out there that are breathing in the cold air, and that’s the fog/mist from their breath!” and smile. Ok, that’s a good explanation. Leave it at that.

At this moment, my girlfriend comes home, and I’m still staring out the back window at these things. I tell her to be quiet and come here…and look at this. She does, and she goes “What the fuck!?” and freaks out. I tell her about the Coyotes. She says “Well then let’s go make sure they’re not eating a horse or something back there.” and grabs a flashlight. I decide why not.

We go out there with the flashlight, and these fog/mist things are moving, but there’s no coyotes, or anything. They’re moving around in random directions, like butteflies would, but slower and more gracefully. Not moving with any wind or anything. When we would walk through one, it would get really, really cold, and you could almost feel like what best can be explained as a fog brush over your face. Anyway, we were even more freaked out at this point, and walked back to the house.

The door to the house was locked from the deadlock. We had to go around front to use the main door…which was also locked, but she had a key for it. Nobody was in the house…at this point, we went out to dinner and tried to forget about this.

Akunin

Somebody toss another log on the fire – I’ve got a few more ghost stories for you. These took place in 1995-1996 on board the USS Carl Vinson, while it was stationed in Alameda, California.
1.
While the ship is in port, most of the equipment in the Reactor and Machinery Rooms is shut down and everything is aligned so that only a skeleton crew is needed to maintain the equipment. In the Machinery Rooms (which contain the propulsion machinery, distillers, and electrical generators) this consisted of one Shutdown Watch and one roving watchstander, with occasional visits from the crewman who was the overall supervisor for the plants.

The Machinery Room has three levels. The topmost level (4th Deck) is a single story high, and there is a steep staircase that descends about 30 or 40 feet into the middle level (called the Upper Level), and another that goes down another 10 feet to the lowermost level (called Lower Level). On Upper Level was a desk, at which we spent most of our time while on Shutdown Watch. There’s very little to do while overseeing a shut down engine room, so between about 10pm and 6am, the Shutdown Watch tries fighting against falling asleep, while simultaneously staving off boredom. Unless you’re in #2 Main Machinery Room around 2am.

Like I pointed out, there’s a long steep staircase from 4th Deck to Upper Level, and it had a “tray” along the underside made of aluminum. It was impossible to “sneak” down the steps, because the slightest vibration would start the aluminum vibrating and rumbling (think about those sheets of aluminum they used to make “thunder” sound effects). When 2am rolled around, the sounds of footsteps and rumbling would be heard, and the tray would be seen to vibrate. Then, there would be the sound of a foot on the metal deckplate and if you were sitting at the desk, you’d then see a man in a khaki uniform stop at the bottom of the stairs, turn to his left to face you, smile and nod, then turn to his right and walk around the distiller and out of sight.

The first few times I blew it off as some watch supervisor doing his tour of the plant, and would wait at the desk to review my logs. He never came back, so I asked about it

“Shouldn’t the Watch Supervisor check my records every time he comes down?”
“He should, but he came and checked my records before you went on watch and said he wouldn’t be back until morning. When did you see him?”
“About 2am.”
“Oh… If you find anything out, be sure to tell us”
Nobody would tell me what that was supposed to mean.

A week later, I was on that late watch again (as the new guy, loser = me) and found myself struggling to stay awake, even with coffee and the ventilation making the place into a freezer. I was wide awake, though, when I heard the footsteps (getting caught sleeping = you are so very fucked). Sure enough, same thing – look, smile, around the distiller. I called out to him “Do you want to review my records?” and followed him around the distiller, but didn’t see him. I picked up a phone and called to the control room to have him paged. They informed me he was not in the plant, but had asked for a 5am wakeup.

Next time, I was set to find out what was up with this guy. I thought maybe he was some clueless guy from Damage Control or Deck doing a tour of the ship and not knowing he wasn’t supposed to be in a restricted area. I heard the steps, and got up from my desk. I got my first good look at the guy and realized that I couldn’t make out a lot of details about him. He walked around the distiller and I went the other way to intercept him. I rounded the corner, and saw nobody.

The guys I worked with told me their experiences were the same, that nobody had ever gotten any response from the ghost but a smile and a nod, and that nobody had bee brave enough to get close enough to him to see what happened when he rounded the corner. If anyone was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, he would not show, and only rarely did he appear to both the Shutdown Watch and the roving Patrol Watch (I tried this on several occasions, and he only appeared once).

2. There are a series of compartments that contain the bearings for the shafts that run from the turbines in the Machinery Rooms to the propellers at the aft end of the ship. Known as Shaft Alleys, they double as auxiliary equipment / pump rooms and storage areas. Two such rooms have steam generators used to produce the cooking and heating steam for the ship. One is divided into two levels, and is accessable by a ladder running down a 7-story vertical shaft. Several hatches are spaced along the shaft.

In that room, the steam reboiler has an alarm panel. When the water level gets too high or low, an alarm sounds. the watchstander then has to turn a knob from “On” to “Standby” to silence the siren. When the water level is normal, another sound is heard, and the knob can be returned to its normal position. I had heard stories about strange workings of that panel, but it had recently been overhauled and was found to be mechanically and electrically sound.

I was working on repairing some valves on the lower level when one of the alarms came in. I stood up and walked toward the steps to the upper half of the room when the alarm silenced. I went back to work thinking that it was a spurious activation (it happened occasionally, and was expected and tolerated, to a degree). Soon, the sound of the alarm clearing came in and was silenced. I checked the panel – all the knobs were in the normal position and everything was in spec. Back downstairs to work, and another alarm came in. i walked to the panel, checked the water level gage, and sure enough, it had risen too high, but was starting to come down. The High Water Level alarm was in “Silence” position. I was the only one in the room, and the hatch above my head was shut securely. A little nervous, I went back to work.

The alarm cleared, and on inpection, the switch was back in its normal position again. This continued for a few more cycles, and each time I investigated, the switches were alternately in normal and standby positions. Getting very freaked out, I turned the switch that cuts the sound of the alarms out and tried to forget the weirness going on above. Fifteen minutes later, i nearly pissed myself when an alarm sounded. Sure enough, when i got there, it was in standby and the cutour switch for the audible alarms was back to normal position.

I had heard some stories about other goings on in that space, such as hoses coming off their racks and falling to the floor next to a pocket under the floor that needed to be pumped out, or ropes and hoses moving back and forth while the ship was still, and then experienced the one that I’d been told about most frequently.

Above me, I heard footsteps on the metal deckplates. A quick inspection of the hatch showed it was still shut. i figured someone had been hiding and was fucking with me all along, so I went upstairs to see who was making the noise. Nobody there. I heard the footsteps downstairs and ducked to look (there are only two ways to get from the upper to lower deck, and they’re only 30 feet apart). Nobody. I went back downstairs to pick up my things and heard the footsteps above. I shouted out “I don’t believe in you, bitch.” and heard a few quick steps on the floor moving toward me followed by a slap against my wrist that sent my pen flying across the room. I was through the hatch and up the shaft in record time, shutting and securing every hatch on the way. I refused to go back down there for weeks, and after that, did not go alone.

3. In another Shaft Alley was a cage with a lot of old equipment. People used to hang out there to smoke and BS, because, although it was against the regulations, it was more convenient than going to the designated areas and nobody ever came down to check out the room. Even so, there was always an uneasy feeling there, and nobody stayed down there for more than 20 minutes or so, claiming that they started feeling “bad vibes”. A few times, people who spent time there (myself included) claimed to feel a malevolent presence staring at them from the shadows inside the cage.

INVESTIGATIONS
One friend of mine had his wife send him a ouija board and offered to let us use it. We snuck it into the various spaces we felt were “haunted” and tried to contact whatever spirits were responsible for the odd behavior in the rooms. We got minimal response in the Machinery Room, and I was not present for the attempts in the Reboiler room, but was told thay didn’t get much response there, either. So, into the “creepy” room we went.

Jackpot.

We managed to contact somewhere between four and six separate entities, but we suspect that it was two, plus one that answered by several names to deceive us. Nobody else was knowledgeable with religious esoterica, numerology, or Qabalah, so I asked questions on those topics as a test of the spirits (and to be sure nobody was “fudging” the board) with very positive results.

The spirit in the Machinery Room was the first attempt. After determining that it wasn’t someone else pushing the pointer, I asked it “Who are you?”

(K – H – A – K – I)

“That’s what WE call you, but what is your name.”

(No. K-H-A-K-I. M-y n-a-m-e i-s K-H-A-K-I.)

“Is that because that’s the name WE gave you? Or because you don’t want to tell us your REAL name?”

(Yes. No.)

We could get no further with its name, after several attempts.

“Why do you walk down the stairs? Where do you go after you walk behind the distiller?”

(N-o-t S-l-e-e-p-i-n-g. H-e-a-r l-a-d-d-e-r n-o-t s-l-e-e-p-i-n-g.)

“What happened to you? Were you sleeping?”

(F-i-r-e. S-l-e-e-p-i-n-g. F-i-r-e.)

“And you want to make sure WE’RE not sleeping?”

(Yes.)

“Khaki” didn’t tell us much else, and gave vague and contradictory answers about the fire in question. We asked around, but nobody knew of a fire in that machinery room, although it is very possible one did occur. We were unable to find any records of a fire, and when I left the ship, the “walkthroughs” were still going on.

Contact with the thing from the Reboiler was tougher, and at times we were not sure we were always talking to the same entity, so we would test it to be certain. In the end, we were fairly sure that the entity was confused and had a “short attention span”. Conversations were very short and it often strayed from the topic at hand, or asked us to sing a song before it would talk. Some of the others tried contacting it under varying circumstances, and told me the only information they got that seemed consistent was that the ghost, who they called Patrick (although it usually referred to itself as ‘Me’ or ‘the Captain’) seemed to be that of a young boy who loved ships and who had visited the Vinson and was shown the “machine with the red lights and the siren”. It seemed implausable, since civilians were not allowed in the space, and certainly not a small boy. However, the stories, checked by independent testers, came up the same each time. Over a few weeks, he became more talkative, but did not answer many ship-related questions, instead asking us about places we’d visited on the ship.

We tried to speak to the “thing in the cage” and met with a lot of resistance. Either the board would not work, or it would spew forth random letters or obscene words, or it would behave in a very difficult or contrary manner.

We suspected that most of the entities, as mentioned above, were this single ghost “playing tricks”. It claimed to be a woman who died in the 1920s (long before the ship was built), a mechanic who died on the ship, and “the devil”. When using the board to speak to it, the malevolent feelings grew and people using the board began to feel very paranoid and uncomfortable.

After one “argument” with it about my intentions when contacting it (I h-a-t-e y-o-u. F-u-c-k y-o-u-r n-u-m-b-e-r-s a-n-d q-u-e-s-t-i-o-n-s. W-e h-a-t-e y-o-u.), I did not try to speak to it again. In time, it / they began to ask for specific people to use the board, and would not talk until they were brought to the room.

Six of us held a conference and decided that we didn’t want to pursue it any further, as some of the guys were really shook up over the incidents and those seemed to be the ones it most often requested. Our investigations stopped shortly thereafter and my friend took the board off the ship after several of the newbies who had “heard about the ghosts” continued to pester him about borrowing it.

tilala

I’ve never had any supernatural experiences of my own, but several friends have. One friend told me about a ghost living in her parents’ basement–they had a woodstove and would leave unsplit wood down there to chop up as needed. They used to hear chopping noises and go down there to find the axe stuck in the chopping block, when it had been left across the room leaning up against the wall…and there actually was wood split. So at least it was helpful.

Another friend has all sorts of family stories about ghosts…they’re from North Carolina, and have been there a while, so have had a chance to acquire more experiences of this type. Apparently her grandmother saw the ghost of her grandfather in a graveyard or something…I’m probably getting the exact relations wrong, but basically, the guy wasn’t very nice while alive, and came back as a human head on a black dog’s body. Ick. A cousin of hers once took a picture of something coming through a chain link fence. My friend’s dad is a photographer, and has inspected both the original negative and several prints of the photo, and they’ve sent it to Kodak–no one can explain the apparition through simple tricks or flaws in the film. I’d post it, and the full story, but sadly, I have no hosting…if someone has some webspace they want to donate, I’ll put it up later.

Another friend, whom I met here at Appalachian State, got her undergrad degree at Barry (Berry?) College in Georgia. The campus was small and the buildings old. The wing of the dorm she was in had a tower with a couple of rooms that no one was ever allowed to live in–there were all sorts of supernatural things going on up there, like footsteps when no one was up there, and just a bunch of noises like someone was wandering around and doing stuff even when the access door was locked. Additionally, no matter what anyone did or how often they repainted the walls, from the hallway leading to the access door and up, paint would never stick. It just kept cracking, blistering, and peeling off the wall. The story was, of course, that a girl had committed suicide up in one of the tower rooms, but I don’t think the story was ever confirmed.

–more–
Once again, this picture/story isn’t mine, it’s my friend’s.

My best friend’s family lives in southeastern North Carolina. They’ve had several supernatural sightings in the family, but for the most part seem pretty well-balanced. The story I got from my friend is that a cousin of hers died in a hunting accident…he was well-loved, and the family was devastated, but after a year, things had begun to get better, although they still thought of him a lot, of course. Whether that has any bearing on this story…well, I don’t know.

Exactly one year after he died, another cousin of hers was finishing up a roll of film by taking pictures of her dog. She let him out into the back yard, and as he always did, he ran over to the fence to visit with the next-door neighbor’s dog. The dog got to the fence and suddenly turned tail and ran back into the house, just as she took another picture. “Weird,” thought the cousin, but didn’t give it any more thought until she got the roll of film back. This is what she saw:

(you wish, archives)
Different people see different things. My friend swears she sees a Madonna-like figure in a mist. To me, though, it looks like some ancient Egyptian-style god with the head of a bird of prey and a hand, dripping something, reaching for the dog. Though what on earth an Egyptian-style god would be doing in North Carolina is just beyond me.

As I also mentioned in a previous post, my friend’s dad is a professional photographer. He has about 30 years’ experience and does his own developing and suchlike. He is also the last person I would ever, ever have imagined believing in ghosts. But he’s seen the negatives and the print, and can’t explain the…thing that shows up in that picture through any flaw in the film, or any trickery on the part of the cousin who took the photograph. Apparently they also sent the negatives to Kodak, and the people there were just as baffled.

What this is, I don’t know for sure. But I will say that the first time I saw it, my eyes started watering. I know some people will think this is sort of crazy, but when I hear or read a story, or see a picture, about something supernatural, my eyes water. It’s not every story or picture, just certain ones. The amount of detail doesn’t matter, and with pictures there doesn’t have to be any explanation. It just happens with certain things, which usually turn out to be, if not true, then at least far more believable than others. So to me, the fact that my eyes watered when I saw this means it’s real–but I still don’t know what its greater significance really is.

bakersfield chimp

There’s talk of ghosts, or something, at my theater… I guess they sorta hang out in our projection booth, which is this huge U-shaped hallway on the second floor of our building. We have the projectors for four of the theaters on each side of the U, and at night the closing manager and whoever has been scheduled to close door that night have to go and shut off all of the breakers for each of the theaters. The manager usually foists most of this off on whoever the closing door person is, but they’ll do a theater or two, depending on whether or not they’re done with all of the day’s paperwork. One of our old managers, Tiffiny, had been shutting down the booth and heard something call her name. She went and asked the closing door person if they had called her, and he said that he hadn’t, and they were the only two people in the building at the time. She was pretty freaked out by it, even though it doesn’t really sound all that creepy the way I’ve written it.

The last few times I’ve closed door, I’ve had to shut down the projection booth by myself, and each time I get down to this one side of the booth, I’ll hear this door slam shut. The manager and I are usually the only ones that are in the building, and there’s no way that it could be him, because he’s in the office. The first time it happened, I thought I was just imagining things, but it’s happened three times now, and it’s starting to freak me out.

TheDingo

In 1983 my great grandfather died (I was 2, so I didn’t remember him.) About two weeks later, the family was having some sort of get together, and many pictures were taken. There was one of the whole family standing together, big nice picture. When they developed it, they got pretty shocked. You can clearly see him standing in the middle of the group, just smiling and posing with his family…
My grandfather still has the dated picture and keeps it in a safe only to show everyonce in a while.

DollyPancake

My friend, let’s call her Kiran, belongs to a pretty strict family, rife with rivalry with their relatives who live in India. Many years ago before Kirans birth their was a huge argument between the family, which led to one of the relatives (who was believed to dabble in black magic) putting a curse onto Kirans immediate family. The curse was that the whole family should be destroyed in some way or another.

From that day a ghost of a young boy came to the family and actually tried to kill them all. First he attacked the mother and killed her first baby, he then attempted to kill the father by causing a severe heart attack (twice) and then during the birth of Kiran he attempted to kill the mother and Kiran, but he failed.

The ghost vanished for a short period of time.

Soon they discovered strange things happening in the house, a room in the house where the father suffered a heart attack suddenly became a mass of paranormal activity. For instance, blood or some sort of blood-like fluid would seep up through the floorboards and the ghost of a boy could be seen in the house trying to lead the children away.

Eventually they had this ghost exorcised and they moved house, thinking it was all over, but it got much, much worse.

Coming up to the present day there has been what Kiran describes as a ‘demon’ following the family, Kiran in particular. I suspected it followed her because she is the child that SHOULD’VE been murdered, and she lived. The demon watches over her every night at her window, it is a pure vortex of evil and blackness. I didn’t believe her at first when she told me but then when I realised how pretty damn scared she was by this thing haunting her I decided to try and help.

Since I had recently been ‘practising’Astral Projection/ induced lucid dreaming I thought that I could perhaps find out what this demon was. I was pretty ill at the time and because of my inability to sleep I found it much easier to project or enter a state of lucidity. Somehow I entered a state of concentration, purely by accident, where I could ‘see’ outside of Kirans house, and I attempted to call the demon out to me instead to see if this whole thing was real.

Then the most terryfying thing I have EVER witnessed happened. I saw a shadow move across the top of my window. It startled me at first, but then the shadow approached right next to my window, and I could see its exact form. For some reason it couldn’t get into my house (Kiran also said it couldn’t get into her house either.) But God it tried, all the windows began rattling, there was tapping on the glass and horrific noises. I was pretty scared for my parents rather than my own personal safety. So taking advantage of the situation I decided to see if I could contact this demon type shadow. I found out that it was a spirit of a teenage boy, perhaps around 16 or so, utterly consumed in hate. He was looking for his mother or just a companion, maybe he thought killing someone would give him companionship, who knows.

Because I know that it’s a good idea not to hold burdens against otherworldly creatures I gave it a wish that it would find what it was looking for and that it should be taken away so that he could learn not to hate.

The scary thing is the demon left Kiran… for about a week.

The day before it returned I had the worst dream I’ve probably ever had, it went like this:

I was in Kirans house and she was making me look at something out of the window. I looked and I saw a horrendous black shadow moving along the sky, it’s weird because I never feel emotions in dreams but this time it felt real and I was VERY scared. It’s hard to describe what the demon looked like.. if you imagine the blackest black, and a silk-like substance with such graceful movement making it hard to believe it’s made of pure hate, then you’re close. Perhaps the closest thing I can think of is Madonnas dress in the ‘Frozen’ video.. crappy comparison but hey, it’s the best I can do.
I managed to see the demon up close and it was pretty gruesome, a grey mangled figure of a boy, black veins writhing over him and feeding on him, and he was reaching out for help, which was pretty sad.
There was a message in the dream which was a form the demon conveyed to me, it was the form of the grim reaper. I woke up and phoned Kiran urgently as I felt I had to tell her what the message in the dream was for her own safety, and she told me she’d had a tarot reading the day before, and the grim reaper card kept coming up.

So the demon came back on that night.. it’s practically been there ever since, we just think it’s going to remain there with her until she lives her life out and there’s no escaping it really. But I admire her a lot for being able to cope with it, the only thing is that I’m really really self conscious about the damn thing following me about now, but I guess it was my own fault for trying to help.

Meowmixer

1910, Latvia:
A family of 5 girls had their first group picture taken since the death of their eldest sister who had passed earlier that year after a lost bout with influenza.
The dead sister was in her twenties, and was said to have been a very powerful witch; local tale stated that she had turned the freshly made milk of an unliked farmer sour and writhing with maggots and had the power to bring flocks of birds from the sky.

On her death bed she told the second eldest sister, Margaret a secret and made her swear to not tell another soul. Margaret failed to keep the secret and uttered it to her nearest younger sister, shortly thereafter Margaret was struck down by disease which rendered her deaf, dumb, blind and bed ridden. She died soon after, but not before the photograph was developed, it depicted a woman’s head whispering into Margaret’s ear, the woman was clearly the first deceased of the girls.

The third oldest sister who the secret was second-handedly told to never mentioned what was said to her to another person, keeping the secret a mystery to this day.

Several years ago I attempted to scan the photograph that was handed down to my mother, for some reason the scanner refused to work with that photograph, I tried it with others and it worked successfully, one last time I attempted to scan it, but the scanner simply stopped working outright. I handed the photo back to my mother, and it was never found again, even after searching all of our photo albums, books and drawers.

JakeMcD reposts a scary story (Mael)?

Well, this is nothing really like anyone elses stories, in fact, this could all just be my imagination.

Some kids cant go to sleep without their door ajar, and a light on in the passageway. This was never the case for me, i always slept in complete darkness. When i was a child, i dreamed more than anyone ive ever discussed it with, i had several dreams that i could remember a night. And in every one of my dreams, i died. I died a thousand deaths, being shot, stabbed, poisoned, i fell from cliffs, i burned in fires.

Most of these nightmares i just put down to an overactive imagination. The dreams i was shot, it was usually by some soldiers in some war. Too many movies. But some dreams, i knew were different. They all involved places i knew, as opposed to the other nightmares, where i was killed in all sorts of locations id never been to. These particular dreams, i was prey. I was being hunted by some beings that i couldnt see, couldnt feel, but i knew they were there. When they caught me, they tried to kill me. But they were non-corporeal, so they couldnt physically injure me in these dreams. When they got me, i couldnt breathe, and i felt them draining at me. Normally, when i knew i was dreaming, i could wake myself up very easily. But not when they had me. I could feel them keeping me in the dream, and it took all my will to drag myself away from them and wake up.

All my other nightmares, i could wake up and say to myself “it was only a dream”, and forget about it. But these particular dreams i couldnt get out of my head. I somehow knew that they were real. And that scared the hell out of me.

In the nightmares, when these beings caught me, i was trapped, and couldnt breathe. I would slowly, intentionally, claw my way back to consciousness. I am an only child, and for the first 12 years of my life, i slept alone, in a bedroom at the opposite end of the house from my parents.

Occasionally, i would have friends sleep over. And i would completely freak them out. Because i discovered that when i was dying in a dream, and couldnt breathe, i couldnt breathe in real life. Sometimes for extended periods of time. Some of the times, id wake up, and whoever was staying at my house would be shaking me, trying to wake me up cause i was choking, unable to breathe in. As soon as i regained consciousness, i could breathe again.

This didnt happen every night. Just the nights when i knew the dream was real. Sometimes i would be having a normal dream, dreaming about being a champion footballer or whatever the fuck young kids dream about, when i knew that the being searching for had me found me in the dream, and all of a sudden the dream became real.

Over time, i realised that not all of my real dreams involved me being hunted down. Sometimes, i would be talking to other beings. One group of beings in these real dreams tried to help me. These were not like the dark, invisible things which tried to kill me, these other beings were semi visible, shorter than me at the time, making them quite short. They tried to teach me things in the dream world. There were three in particular. I cant remember the names of two, but i can remember the name of one distinctly: “Ry-ing”. Ill explain why i can only remember that name later. These beings taught me, and i think they tried to help me hide from the hunters, but they couldnt protect me, or fight the hunters off.

I learnt that in these real dreams, i had powers i didnt have in the real world. I could fall great distances without injury, because i could slow how quickly i fell. It was as if i could affect gravitys effect on me. This also meant that i could almost fly. It was more levitation, it required all my concentration in the dream, and i could never get more than a meter or 2 off the ground, and couldnt move very quickly.

There were other creatures that inhabited my real dream world. One was a small creature that looked a little like a hedgehog. It was a misty, semi transparent creature, which made it easy to accidentally step on. If you stepped on it, you wouldnt feel normal pain from its spikes, but a strange pins and needles feeling. The other strange thing about these creatures was that where they died, this pins and needles effect would stay where they died, even if their carcass was moved, or decayed.

There was one corner of my grandparents house that my father grew up in where i knew one of these creatures had died, because i got that effect in my foot wherever i stepped there in my real dreams.

All these dreams happened when i was about 10 and younger. I guess i started having them less and less often, and i forgot about them. I mean completely forgot. I never thought about them once.

When i was about 15 or so, i can remember one sepcific dream i had. Some invisible beings i could sense were trying to get me. And in the dream, thats when i remembered. I remember all the dreams i had when i was younger. The realisation was so shocking i felt like it hit me. The closest analogy i can draw is the effect you see in movies where the camera draws away from the subject, but zooms in, so it looks like the subjects face doesnt change in size, but the background rushes in at them. I remembered having real dreams. The strange thing was, the being that was attacking me suddenly drew away and disapeared.

When i woke, i could still remember everything. I could remember the dreams i had as a child as if they had just happened. I found it strange. But as a 15 year old, i had stopped beleiving in things like that. I thought it was just my imagination.

A couple of years ago, i was talking about dreams with my dad while we were having a few beers. He told me that when he was a child, he had two friends that came back to a lot of dreams he had. He told me their names. I didnt recognise one, but hearing the other one nearly made me drop my beer. “Ry-ing”. The same name as one of the three that tried to help me in my dreams.

My father told me how they used to be his friends in his dreams when he was young. And he went on to describe one particular dream, where one of his pets in his dream, a little creature he said looked like a “shadowy brown echidna”, died. He told me exactly where it died, just in between the crabapple tree and the kitchen. This was EXACTLY the spot that i had dreamed of knowing one of these creatures had died, because i had walked over the place it had died in one of my dreams, and had felt the strange pins and needles feeling that these creatures gave the place where they died. The place was outside at the time of my fathers dream, but by the time i was young the kitchen had been extended, and the spot was indoors in a corner.

This blew my mind. Most things in my life like that i put down to coincidence, but that was just too close.

I told dad about the same dreams i had had as a kid, and to my surprise, he wasnt shocked at all. He said that his mother had similar dreams when she was young, and so had her father (my great grandfather, who died a long time before i was born). I have spoken to my grandmother about this, and she remembers vividly talking to ‘the little people’ in her dreams, and talking to her father about it. She seems to treat them as perfectly normal. Having an Irish background, she beleives in ‘the little people’. I had never even heard of them until i talked to her about it, and that was a long time after i had these dreams.

I havent had real dreams for years now. I havent seen Ry-ing or the other two in my dreams for years either. But i know that they are still there.

What really bothers me is that my father, grandmother, or (from what i have heard) great-grandfather was ever hunted in their dreams. They knew that other, evil creatures existed in the same world as the little people, but they were never attacked. I was attacked every real dream i had.

The other difference was that ‘the little people’ taught my family, and spoke to them, but they didnt teach them what they taught me, limited flying, controlled falling etc. Why was i different?

I cant explain how i know these dreams were real. I am agnostic, im not sure theres a God, im not sure of much in this life, but some things i just know. I knew that of my 4 grandparents, my maternal grandmother would die first, even though my fathers parents are older and more sickly, and my maternal nan was fit as a fiddle til the day she died. I know that my father will die before my mother. I dont know how i know, i just do.

Sometimes, lying awake at night, i can almost feel the real dreams. But whenever i concentrate on them, i feel them slip away, like sand through my fingers. Sometimes i momentarily see things that arent there, like a single frame with an extra object spliced onto a roll of a movie.

When i get Deja-Vu (this happens occasionally, about once a month), it kills me. I often have to sit down and close my eyes i get the feeling that strongly.

But what really fucks with my mind is my memory. You know how sometimes when you are trying to think of someones name, or a word, and you get it “right on the tip of your tounge”, but you just cant remember it? Whenever i think about these dreams, i get that feeling. Like theres something about all this that i have almost forgotten. But i know that its important somehow. But remembering it is like trying to grasp smoke.

I have tried hypnosis to remember more, but i am one of the one in ten people that cant be hypnotised, it just doesnt work on me.

Goose

My only “experience” with a ghost (I don’t even know if it was one) was a few months ago. I was asleep in my bed, and having some kind of a dream. Well out of nowhere in the dream I started shaking. It was like someone had taken me by the shoulders and just shook me. I woke up rather quickly only to find myself still shaking. When I opened my eyes I could have swore I saw a figure right next to my bed. It was wierd though because I couldn’t see a distinct face or anything, but I knew something was there. Then all of the sudden I saw it move and lean forward, and it sort of went through me. It was like someone leaning over to kiss me, but instead of doing that they just went into my body. At that moment I got an incredibly sick feeling in my stomach and my whole body got cold. And that was it. I didn’t see/feel anything else.

Blank Space

I wouldn’t go as far to say that I am psychic, but sometimes I just know things. For example, when I was in 4th grade i remember looking at my cat and all of a sudden I knew he was going to die. I just knew it was going to happen. I came home from school that day, and my mom pulls me and my siter aside and tells us our cat died. Strange.

The same thing happened to me with my dog just the other day. I just knew he was going to die, and I spent like an hour and half just petting him. The next day he started puking all over and we had to send him to the vet. Turns out he swallowed a rock and needed to get surgery. He died coming out of surgery.

Another strange thing, I always know when the phone is for me. I’ll be sitting at my computer and the phone will ring, and bam I just know it’s for me.

Big McLargeHuge

I had a dream that I entered a mall building of sorts, with no one around. The building was white with LOTS of glass, glass doors, big glass ‘walls,’ etc. The glass doors had bronze or brass handles, extended U-kinda thing, but directly attached to the glass, no plates. There were typical ‘mall’ benches, metal, white, elongated. Two were ‘connected’ to eachother at a time. The floor, ceiling, and non-glass walls were all white. As with many malls, other ‘floors’ were actually balcony walkway thingies. The railings were white as well. The ceiling seemed to be about 5 stories up from the ground level.

There were no escalators. There was an odd ‘piston’ elevator. Think of the old Marvin the Martian cartoons, those kind of things. The odd thing about these piston elevators is that there was a guiding beam, cylindrical, going to the ceiling. If you looked at the elevator from the top, it looked like a big white circle, with a crescent cut out of it…sort of like a big cookie with a bite taken out of it. The platform of this elevator was white, with a white railing, except for bronze/brass trim.

An odd thing of note: I do not remember if the piston actually WENT to any of the other floors, I remember it being in the middle of the ground floor.

No one was in this building except for me.

I got on the elevator, held onto the railing, and it began moving up. At this point, the dream turned lucid. I remember thinking, “The last time I went up here I held on to the railing, and when it stopped, I flipped over the edge and fell. This time I’ll grab onto the beam.” Odd thing is, I don’t remember ever having that dream beforehand. Anyway, while the thing is still going up, I let go of the railing and hold onto the guiding support. The elevator stops suddenly, and I shoot up to the ceiling, holding onto the guide support. I let go, and I’m about 3 feet from the ceiling. I hover for a moment, and think to myself, “Gee, this is a dream…I wonder what happens if I hit those metal benches.” So, as I free fall, I aim myself towards the benches. I pick up speed, and a few seconds later, flash to black. I experience a luke-warm, floating feeling. Something like it would feel to be a fish in warm water. Just there, suspended, in darkness and warmth.

Suddenly I can feel every single inch of my skin simultaneously. It’s hard to describe. You know the cyclotron, that one carnival ride where you stand up and get strapped to these padded wall things, and it spins around and around and around, and due to centrifugal force, you get pushed up? Just like that. I open my eyes, I’m in my bed. My face is embedded HARD into my pillow, and the rest of my body feels like lead.

I can’t move. I can blink, but I can’t move my head, lift an arm, or roll over. After about 30 seconds or so, I lift my head off of the pillow. It feels like I’m in that ride. It takes me another 30 seconds to lift both of my arms up, and another 30 to actually sit up in bed.

I’m scared, but happy as a pig in shit. I had an awesome lucid dream, made two conscious decisions that affected the outcome of the dream, and experienced some sort of temporary paralysis.

6 months later, I’m at a friend of mine’s graduation party. One of her relatives is big into sleep studies, and I mentioned that to her. That’s the explaination she gave me. This was about 5-6 years ago. She said that roughly .5-1% of the population has this happen ONCE in their lifetime. A much much lower percentage have it occur more than once.

nidhoggr

Up until I was 10 (1971), I lived on a farm about 7 miles outside of Sparta, Wisconsin. I am the oldest of 6. Every year, we would close off the upstairs towards the end of December or beginning of January to save on the cost of heating. My parents decided that this year they would close the upstairs on December 31st. I am laying in my bed on the night of the 30th, and am not really all that tired. I look at the end of the bed, and I see a man in a civil war style overcoat and beside him are 2 very large dogs that resemble Dobermans. The dogs look fierce, bearing their teeth and straining at the leashes. They didn’t make any sound, however.

The guy looked me right in the eyes with a concerned look on his face. He then smiled and nodded, and when I blinked, he and the dogs were gone.

The following day, the upstairs was locked up and me and my three brothers were supposed to sleep on a matress on the floor of the dining room for the rest of the winter.

I remember The evening of the 31st like it was yesterday. We sat and watched Tarzan and the Valley of Gold and during the movie, we heard the sounds of cars outside, and then the sounds of barking dogs and people yelling at each other. We live at the end of a mile-long driveway, and when we looked outside, there was nothing there. We were a little freaked out but we finally settled down and went to bed. I was sleeping pretty soundly when I was awakened by the feeling of a dog licking my face. I opened my eyes, and there was no dog, but the kitchen that was in the direction of my feet was totally engulfed in flames. I quickly woke everyone and we escaped the house.

My uncle drove out and put the fire out before the fire department even showed up. When they showed up, they doused the place pretty good to make sure it didn’t start up again. Well, the next morning, when my mom and dad went to survey the damage, the house was totally burned. It had started up again in the night and was completely destroyed.

Many years later, we woke up one morning in our new house to find all the doors locked and windows latched. My family didn’t lock doors to the house. In fact, the keys to the doors were in a drawer in the kitchen and hadn’t been taken out of the drawer since we moved in. There was some news on the radio about some vagrant or crazy person doing some bad things in houses in our neighborhood. This could be the second time this ghost protected us.

To this day, when I visit my parents, I can hear the sounds of dogs breathing as if they were sleeping on the floor close by. My sisters tell similar stories about hearing dogs and having beds move as if a large dog was crawling under it to rest.

Creepy stuff.

Squeeky

I, living in Rhode Island, have the best fucking ghost story ever. This is about me sleeping at a friend’s house.

I was having a sleepover with a few friends at a friend’s house. This was an old farmhouse built in the 1800’s. Let’s start by talking about the house. At the time, I knew nothing about it. It was built by a poor farmer and his family. They were obviously retarded, because New England has shitty farmland. They had small crops, a well, and pretty much schooled and provided for themselves. Well, they lived an isolated peaceful life, until, one day, the mother snapped. She took a cooking knife, and stabbed her husband in his sleep. She drowned the children, and hid them out back. The husband woke up that morning to find that he had been stabbed, and he was fucking pissed. He engaged in a death struggle with his wife, and beat her to death with his bare hands. He died a few minutes later.

Well, we were joshing around, and then the kid who’s house we were at looked at the clock and said “Hey, everybody, quiet down!” We asked why, and he said “Something really cool is about to happen!”

A few minutes later, at 1:26 AM, the lights shuttered, and went dim. The house seemed to groan, and the room seemed warped. We heard whispers, quiet at first, and then it happened. The entire family appeared, fucked up as shit. Not transparent, but with a bluish tint. Then the house, them, I don’t know, let out a quiet scream. I half cried, one kid screamed, and no one slept. I never went back there for anything. Ever. The end.