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mr_bunny:
I care not for the naysayers.
Oooh, mysterious AND incoherent. I think you might have gotten the order wrong in the retelling: drink THEN ghost.
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/I dug up your grandmother
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Hanging on the wall, he had this big wooden crucifix. You could slide the top part of the crucifix off and set it in the base and there were holes to put candles in. Supposedly, it was used for funerals. So, he brought us all into his room and pointed to the crucifix.
He said, "the chest of Jesus turned purple and cracked the other day and there was some kind of substance running down from the feet all along the wall."
It was really creepy and you could see where the wall and wood of the crucifix were still stained from the liquid.
A few months later, he had a massive heart attack and dropped dead while mowing his front lawn. My grandmother gave my mom the crucifix and to this day the chest area is still purple and cracked and you can see the liquid track left on the wood.
Incidentally, after my grandfather died my mom and her siblings all had the exact same dream where he came to them and said I'm ok, don't worry about me.
Not very ghost-y, but pretty strange nonetheless.
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msfancypants: OK, here's mine:
When I was a kid (6 or 7), the house we lived in had a long hallway, 2 bedrooms on one side, kitchen and bathroom on the other side, bedroom at the end. Anyway, I would always get freaked out at a certain spot in that hallway. It was on the side between the kitchen door and the bathroom. It seemed no matter how warm the house was, there was a 3 foot spot in that hall that was cold as hell. If it was nighttime, I would run, like, panic run, through that spot. My room would creep me out too, I had violent nightmares and was a total insomniac. It got so bad that I would rather piss the bed then get up in the middle of the night and go through the scary spot to go to the bathroom. Finally, my parents decided to let me switch rooms with my brother, and all of a sudden I was sleeping like a baby. No nightmares, no insomnia, no problems. The hallway still scarred me but I didn't have to go through it anymore to get the the bathroom.
When we moved out of the house in 1988, my mother finally told me some interesting info about our old house that they kept from me. Apparently it was owned by a Satanist couple prior to my parents buying it in the 70's. They had the place decked out in Satan's finest decor, and apparently my old room was the "alter" room. The walls and windows were painted black . Anyway, one day Mr. Satanist decided to sacrifice Mrs. Satanist in the "alter room". After tying her to the alter, he stabbed her several times. She managed to break free and attempted to escape, but met her demise in the hallway via shotgun... on the exact spot in the hallway that used to freak me out. Cherry on the cake, Mr.. Satanist, after painting in Ms. Satanist's blood on the wall of the "alter room", decided to use said shotgun on his own head, where he died. Mom made all the neighbors promise not to tell any of us kids when me moved in, obviously not wanting to scare us needlessly. Mom and Dad knew about the prior tragedy when they bought the place, but the price was so great they couldn't pass it up. She feels guilty to this day that it effected me the way it did.
How did your brother react?
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That wan, writhing figure, his eyes shrouded in darkness. He appears from nowhere, always unexpected, always taunting me. Staring at me through the window. He remembers me. With his first words, he moans "we are no strangers..." No, we aren't. We've met before. I tried to dismiss it as a dream. A horrible, nightmarish fantasy. A figment of an imagination gone wild. But the harsh reality singes through me like a slap to the face. The pieces are in place and the game is afoot. We both know the rules. The trick is now to stay one step ahead of him. Because, as he reminds me, he plays to the finish. He is unwavering, unyielding. Committed to his his desires like no other man. He will not stop. He is never gonna give me up. Never gonna let me down. Never gonna run around and desert me. Never gonna make me cry. Never gonna say goodbye. Never gonna run around and hurt me.
I close the window. He's gone, right?
I will see him again.
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boatman: atomsmoosher
Kids are a lot more perceptive than we give them credit for. My three year-old is constantly spouting stuff she must have overheard when we thought she was paying attention to something else.
This is true - but man did that creep me out. I'm willing to allow that she figured it out on her own - but ...just....wow.
Well, given the situation, you were ripe for being creeped out. Miscarriage is a rough thing for a family and your little one was genuinely grieving, I'm sure.
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I slept in a cabin about 150ft from the outhouse/bathroom setup. Walking up in the middle of the night to take a leak and having to walk out into the woods up a ramp into a clearing and then down into a different set of woods to the toilet was my least favorite thing to do, and I'd usually just take one step out the door and piss, but not always.
One of the most enduring stories comes from the fact that the roof of the dining hall used to be configured like the bridge of a ship, so that cadets or trainees could feel like they were on a real ship when on watch duty. The roof has since been converted into a normal looking roof, but the story is that on real stormy nights you can see a cadet in a long dark Bridge coat standing watch with the hem of his coat flapping in the wind. Whenever I went outside on rainy windy nights, you had to walk up a ramp, and turn left to the toilet, but straight ahead, about 75 feet in front of you you'd see the roof of the dining hall silhouetted against the sky. I'd make a point to never look up, avoiding the roof, just in case I'd see this guy and have a heart attack.
So anyway, one night I have to visit the toilet, so I pull a raincoat on and go out. It's really really windy and raining, and so I'm trying my best not to look at the roof of the dining hall for fear of the story being true. As I'm walking up the ramp, I slip a little then regain my footing, look up and there's a guy on the roof with his black coat flapping in the wind. I froze and kept staring at him waiting for the vision to disappear like these kinds of things do in the movies, or when you wake up and think you see someone in your room but you're not sure really, and then it's gone...but he didn't disappear. He just stood there looking out into the dark with his black coat flapping. All of a sudden this guy in the coat kinda makes this weird motion, like drawing up to a full height from being a little hunched over, and hurtles away into the night, almost like he was yanked away by something, and it was so violent and fast as to be really unsettling.
At this point I was ready to get on the boat and haul-ass to the mainland when the door to the cabin opens and my co-worker comes out also to take a leak. He sees me standing there on the ramp staring at the roof of the dining hall, walks over to me, looks up to the roof and says "aw fark the garbage bag blew off the roof vent. I'm not climbing up there again in the rain, let's do it in the morning."
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"And then, HONK HONK! The car honked its own horn!"
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atomsmoosher: mr_bunny:
I care not for the naysayers.
Oooh, mysterious AND incoherent. I think you might have gotten the order wrong in the retelling: drink THEN ghost.
I'll be the first to say that after it happened, and I typed that stuff up pretty much right afterward, I was not in my most compose the prose form.
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PetuniaPumpkin: Ah! Posted this one before. Shall repost:
Don't believe in ghosts but have had one encounter I can't explain.
Stayed alone in an old house that had been converted into apartments. Everyone else had already gone home for the summer from college. That night, I felt a little creeped out, but decided to stay in bed and just go to sleep--and then my bed moved. The end of the bed lifted up about three inches, held for a moment, and then dropped back down.
It was the single worst most terrifying moment of my life. Never had anything like it before or since. I can't explain it and don't like to think about it much.
*shudder*
Yeah, that's called "a dream". I have half-awake dreams all of the time. I have fully asleep dreams that it takes me days to refute whether they are real. I sleep walk. In fact, people are scared of me. For good reason. Your mind is just farked. Try to live with it.
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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.
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I had to call a client regarding some followup. When I dialed her number, it would ring once normally, then again in a different tone. Then a sort of click would signify that the call had been picked up. But nobody was there. I said "hello? hello?" a couple times, but got nothing. I tried again, and still nothing. But it was weird because it was like *something* was on the other end of the line.
So, I waited quietly, listening and it became apparent that there were other noises on the other end. Distant, echoey sounds that seemed like people in a kitchen. (I say that because you could almost make out the clatter of china and silverware.) There were maybe voices and footsteps, but it all sounded as if the phone was off the hook in an unfinished basement, and there was a dinner on the floor above.
After a couple minutes I hung up and told my coworkers about it. They tried the number again and got the same results. Throughout the day, people were trying the number and getting a little freaked out.
The last time I tried it, I swear, I heard a muffled whimper, souning much "closer" to the phone. I hung up immediately out of terror.
The next day the number was disconnected. And the next time we saw the client, we told her the spooky story regarding the phone number we had for her. She said, rather seriously "Don't use that number." By the way she said it, we didn't ask any further questions...
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Dynascape: vernterv: BOO!!
...I got a new kitten and debated naming it "sally"
It's "Betty," you son of a pig. The name is "Betty."
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Back in March I moved to new apartments off Westheimer in Houston. As soon as I moved in weird things started happening... Nothing too odd but the type of things that make you wonder if you are losing it. For example, my radio always comes on by itself. I've had full bags of garbage removed from the trash can and waiting by the door to be taken out. Glass that had recently been Windexed will suddenly have fingerprints all over it like they were opened. My doors will open without warning as well as suddenly become locked/unlocked. Just odd things. And then it got bad.
Right before the hurricane I was taking a nap with a friend before heading to another friends house to "hunker down" in. Suddenly I woke up to hear my door unlock and open and someone yell "hello". My roommate was in Dallas so I immediately got up to look. When I got to the door, not only was it locked but deadbolted, too. I contributed it to being half asleep and being crazy.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting by the pool with my roomie and some other residents of the apartment complex. One of the guys mentioned an incident where his door unlocked and opened itself. Out of the seven residents there, six had witnessed odd activity in the place. Oddly enough, the seventh person (who had never had anything happen in her apartment) mentioned that she used to work at the hospital that used to be there. It seems that a few years ago there was a hospital right where my apartments are built called Rosewood General. During the construction of the place, the contractors encountered all sorts of crazy sh*t. Google Earth still shows the hospital, in fact.
Well, last week my roommate went to Dallas again and I was in bed trying to sleep. Suddenly I could hear the footsteps of someone walking around in my kitchen and the distinct sound of a cat meowing. No one was in that apartment. I know all my neighbors... No one has a farking cat.
I guess I'm just going to have to get used to it. My roomie is so scared that she won't even stay there without me.
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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.
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.
OK, THAT is creepy.
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There is probably a mundane explanation for this.
I grew up in the Texas Panhandle, which is mostly as flat as a pool table. The summer after my sophomore year in high school I had taken my GF "parking" in a field about five miles out of town. Warm night, full moon, windows down. We were making out in the back seat when I noticed red light reflecting on the white interior. Dammit. I had been caught by the sherriff. Again.
I looked toward the source of the light, but couldn't see it right away. Then, through the front windshield, we both saw an intense red light descend. It looked like the bright red light from a radio tower, but there wasn't one around. Besides, this one was silently moving about, and I couldn't tell how har away it was until it lowered down on an adjacent field and the red light reflected on the ground. We were both speechless and terrified. Suddenly I crawled over the front seat, as did she, and I tried to start the car. The dead-reliable car refused to even turn over, just click. The light remained close to the ground, and even seemed to be approaching. I looked down at the dash, still turning the key to no avail. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the light disappear. And the car started!
I put my foot all the way to the floor and we tor down the dirt road, sliding in the gravel, all the way to town. When we got back to the TG & Y parking lot where the our friends congregated, we realized that we were too embarassed to even claim to have seen what we were sure we had.
No drugs, no drinking, and 30 years later it still scares the hell out of me.
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dudebun: "aw fark the garbage bag blew off the roof vent. I'm not climbing up there again in the rain, let's do it in the morning."
*clap clap clap*
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Dyatlov Pass Incident or Kholat Syakhl
Nine skiers wake up in the freezing cold night, rip their tents open from the inside, and run away in the snow barefoot. They all die, some of hypothermia, others of various internal injuries, cause unknown. True story.
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Someone must have just finished watching The Blair Witch project, and decided to make their own version.
My stories (not so much a haunting, but weird, short, and boring):
A few weeks after my son was born, I was just about to try to fall asleep, when I heard this loud, whisper-like voice in my right ear say "Hey... HEY!". It was definitely male, and not my wife, who was sleeping in front of me. I decided that I was going to scope out the house, just to make sure it wasn't the voice of someone who was burglarizing us, and their voices just happened to carry through the vents, or some other dumb reasoning I had. The only thing that was out of place, was the front door being unlocked, which I failed to deadbolt when I came home from work. Nobody in the house. However, there was a notice sent out by my HOA about break-ins later that week. It was probably just my tired brain reminding me to lock the house. See?....Boring.
The second time something like this happened, was last week. My son has developed this horrible habit of NOT F*CKING SLEEPING at night, so we just end up bringing him into our bed after a couple hours of battling with him. The other night, I was in a deep sleep, mainly due to the exhaustion of dealing with his waking and crying every 30 minutes. Something spoke into my ear, and said "You need to check on the baby. Check the baby!". I didn't know that my wife had brought him into bed yet, so I figured it was her saying it to me. As I started to move to go check on him in his room, I noticed that she was out cold and quietly snoring, and he was in our bed, face down, with his head under a pillow! I thought for certain he was suffocating, so I quickly moved him and made sure that he was breathing. He was fine, but who knows how long he would have been under there before we noticed. This time, the voice was female, and had an accent. Sounded a bit like my grandmother, with her German accent. This one still creeps me out a bit. BTW... She's been dead at least 10 years, but we recently inherited her old free-standing Farnsworth Radio/Record player.
My wife has admitted to me, that she sometimes sees these black, blurry things, about the size of a softball, go from one corner of our basement ceiling, to the far corner by the stairs. She's seen them at least a 1/2 dozen times, and didn't mention it to me until after I said something about catching one out of the corner of my eye, while watching football. Always traveling in the same direction, away from our back sliders, towards the stairs on the other side of the room, and only taking 3 or 4 seconds to completely go the 25 feet of ceiling.
Wow... That was longer than I thought it would be, and more boring than I remember.
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StilettosandSkills: I should start off with the fact that I've always believed that there could be some truth to ghosts but I never thought too much of it.
Back in March I moved to new apartments off Westheimer in Houston. As soon as I moved in weird things started happening... Nothing too odd but the type of things that make you wonder if you are losing it. For example, my radio always comes on by itself. I've had full bags of garbage removed from the trash can and waiting by the door to be taken out. Glass that had recently been Windexed will suddenly have fingerprints all over it like they were opened. My doors will open without warning as well as suddenly become locked/unlocked. Just odd things. And then it got bad.
Right before the hurricane I was taking a nap with a friend before heading to another friends house to "hunker down" in. Suddenly I woke up to hear my door unlock and open and someone yell "hello". My roommate was in Dallas so I immediately got up to look. When I got to the door, not only was it locked but deadbolted, too. I contributed it to being half asleep and being crazy.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting by the pool with my roomie and some other residents of the apartment complex. One of the guys mentioned an incident where his door unlocked and opened itself. Out of the seven residents there, six had witnessed odd activity in the place. Oddly enough, the seventh person (who had never had anything happen in her apartment) mentioned that she used to work at the hospital that used to be there. It seems that a few years ago there was a hospital right where my apartments are built called Rosewood General. During the construction of the place, the contractors encountered all sorts of crazy sh*t. Google Earth still shows the hospital, in fact.
Well, last week my roommate went to Dallas again and I was in bed trying to sleep. Suddenly I could hear the footsteps of someone walking around in my kitchen and the distinct sound of a cat meowing. No one was in that apartment. I know all my neighbors... No one has a farking cat.
I guess I'm just going to have to get used to it. My roomie is so scared that she won't even stay there without me.
Weird, my first apartment in Houston was near the Medical Center, and it was also a converted hospital. But... The oddest thing I ever heard was the steady "thump thump thump..." of the neighbors going at it.
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My dad worked for the Census bureau and got to know most of the temp employees they hired to enumerate houses. One retired lady was doing her route and she went to an apartment building where she interviewed a very nice old man. Later in the day, she & her boss noticed that there was a portion of the form that was missed. She went back the next day to get the additional information but no one was answering the buzzer. The manager of the building was going out and asked who she was looking for. She told him the apartment number and described the gentleman. The mgr said that the apartment was empty and the man described was the previous tenant who had died six months ago. When she took out the man's form, it was blank. Needless to say, she never did the census again (this one always creeps me out).
Second, the night my father died, I went to my mom's house with my new puppy and every time he would walk by my dad's bedroom (my mom is a horrific snorer plus he had been so ill, he needed his own bed) and stand there looking, like someone had gotten his attention. It really freaked me out.
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