It's time for another CREEPY thread. (Page 6 of 156)
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Originally Posted By brass:
It appears to have been taken with a digital camera, here's the EXIF data from the unaltered image: Although the flash went off, the shutter speed was 2 seconds, as the ISO (capture speed) was at 100 (instead of 400 or 800). Were the girls in front of a campfire or something? The flash is giving them the clear and bright colors, but the flash only lasts for hundredths of a second or less, the remaining 2 seconds could have caught red light in the background scattering off smoke between the camera and the girls. There would also be a decent amount of camera shake with the shutter held open for 2 seconds, so if you snapped the pic, then put the camera down where there was a red light source, it could have blurred into the shape you see, 2 seconds is a long time when dealing with photos. I don't know for sure if they were near a campfire or not. If the camera had been put down or shaken or the girls had moved while the shutter was still open wouldn't the entire image be blurry? It seems pretty sharp and clear for that to have happened. |
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Fashion is fleeting, style is forever.
Fashion is fleeting, style is forever.
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Originally Posted By SeanC:
Wife and kids are house sitting at her parents place, leaving me home alone reading these spooky tales, and now the dog is growling at the closet door. I should sleep good tonight, ha! Dog+Gun+bathtub+sleep=win |
As the water flows over the bridge, as we walk on the floodland, as we walk on the water, we forget. Rain from Heaven...
| these threads remind me of this... http://www.scp-wiki.net/main |
As the water flows over the bridge, as we walk on the floodland, as we walk on the water, we forget. Rain from Heaven...
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It occurred to me today that if life were a horror movie, I don't want to die too early. If anyone I know ever comes into the house, out of the house, into the room, out of the woods, into the car, telling me to "RUN!" or "Drive!" or "Lock the doors!" or whatnot, I will not question it. I will not judge. I will not try to make them "calm down." I will not try to brush it off or tease them. I will do exactly as they say without any hesitation.
And NEVER be the Sheriff who doesn't believe the scared person. If you're that guy, you're a goner for sure. |
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Originally Posted By Sawgunner101:
My hometown (Antioch California) has a little place in the boonies called "Gravity Hill". It's a little farm road out in the middle of nowhere, but it isn't actually a hill. It's just a flat stretch of road. But if you park your car to the starting line (helpfully marked with a shot of spraypaint), and put your car in neutral, the car will accelerate, all on it's own, as if you were coasting down a hill. It's really bizarre. 
My theory is that it's a place with a wonky gravitational field, like the "Mystery Spot". But when you take somebody out there, a ghost story is pretty much mandatory. i took a girl out there once on a disastrous date, and I was talking to her about the legends, and she claimed that she didn't belive in ghosts. But when I got to the part about it bieng indain spirtits pushing the car off thier sacred lands, she flipped the fuck out. Apparently she DID believe in indian spirits.  
It's not a flat stretch of road at all. It's an illusion. Gravity Hill |
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Originally Posted By thunderw21:
Originally Posted By brass:
It appears to have been taken with a digital camera, here's the EXIF data from the unaltered image: Although the flash went off, the shutter speed was 2 seconds, as the ISO (capture speed) was at 100 (instead of 400 or 800). Were the girls in front of a campfire or something? The flash is giving them the clear and bright colors, but the flash only lasts for hundredths of a second or less, the remaining 2 seconds could have caught red light in the background scattering off smoke between the camera and the girls. There would also be a decent amount of camera shake with the shutter held open for 2 seconds, so if you snapped the pic, then put the camera down where there was a red light source, it could have blurred into the shape you see, 2 seconds is a long time when dealing with photos. I don't know for sure if they were near a campfire or not. If the camera had been put down or shaken or the girls had moved while the shutter was still open wouldn't the entire image be blurry? It seems pretty sharp and clear for that to have happened. No, the girls were only illuminated for 1/100th of a second or less, which gave them the full exposure. Without the flash, you couldn't really blur the girls, since they would be nearly invisible, think of no exposure (black) overpowering the bright colors already there... Similar thing with flash and long shutter speeds. You can do cool effects with it, and is about the only "in camera" way to get many effects. My avatar is a good example. The exposure was set to a few seconds, and I also had the flash go off. The flash allowed the barrel and muzzle brake to be exposed, then the open shutter allowed the actual burning powder in the brake to be exposed, making the brake/muzzle flash look like an oven. Best way I would describe your picture is if you took the camera off the table, snapped the pic and set it back down. Other guys were standing there and maybe a car behind the camera position hit the brake lights, exposing them lightly in red. If there were no other people in the area, that theory is kind of shot down, though. 
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The person who complains most, and is the most critical of others has the most to hide.
"I was just a child then, now I'm only a man." -- Roger Waters
Also, Fuck obama.
"I was just a child then, now I'm only a man." -- Roger Waters
Also, Fuck obama.
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When I was about six maybe seven, I think, I woke up in the middle of the night. Now, I've had my share of dreams and if I don't realize I'm in the dream while having it then I'll realize it soon after waking up. In other words, I am able to recognize the threshold we all cross between dream and real life. As a small child when I had nightmares, I used to bow my head in prayer and I would wake up in my bed. So, I was not only accustomed to recognizing the dream state but if it was particularly unpleasant I could escape it rather easily. My point is that the lucidity in the proceeding experience, I felt, was on par with the waking attention, i.e. I was awake.
I woke up in the middle of the night and didn't know why. I seemed to be wide awake. We always slept with night lights on the wall so there was ambient light in the room. I hear the soft scuttling on the wood floor and think "cockroaches." Now, I hate cockroaches and I'm thinking I'm not about to set foot on the floor and go toe-to-toe with no Mexican cockroaches. The sound became very pronounced and suddenly seemed to be immediately around me whereas before I perceived to be localized at a more distant point in the room. The next sensation I have is one of weightlessness and then I become aware of movement. I'm moving. The whole bed is moving. In a very controlled fashion, the bed lifted off the floor (couldn't have been more than a few inches) moved a few feet in the room and then returned to its original position before setting back down again. I heard the sound again. This time it started up in my immediate vicinity and then diminished to silence. I wasn't scared throughout it, I just remember the utter disbelief at what was happening which is uncommon for dreams. In dreams, you usually accept what is happening around you without question. As I said, the clarity of this experience is what has made it stick with me. I've never really told anyone about it. |
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You have the right to be offended.
You have the right to be offended.
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A buddy and I are bullshitting one night when I happened to bring up a house I had been in when I used to deliver furniture. It was one of the older homes in town and I mentioned it because there was a second staircase going upstairs built next to the main one which i found interesting.. The homeowner had told me it was for the maid to use so she wouldn't get in the way of the guests during dinner parties. After I brought that feature up as well as the sprawling maze of a creepy basement my friend knew the home I was talking about. His mother's good friends currently owns it and this was the story he told me about the place.
Shortly after the family had moved into the home, their son who was three at the time started talking to and playing with an imaginary friend who was also a little boy. Their son would always be running around the basement playing and talking for hours and tried to include his friend in every thing he did. At one point he had told his parents that his friend asked him to ask his mom if she could let him out of his room. He said he has been locked in his room for a long time and he wants to be let out. He told me his the mother thought it was weird at the time and just shrugged it off. Fast forward a few years more of this and they decided to fix up the basement. Well when they started to take out the wall of what they thought was an old sistern, they discovered a fully furnished bedroom of a child. This is where the story gave me the willies. Apparently above the fireplace on the main floor of the house hung an old black and white picture of the house when it was originally built in the late 1800's that was hanging there when they purchased the home. In the photo taken of the front of the house are eight large windows. After the discovery of the almost perfectly preserved bedroom of the child, a child's face showed up in every window of the house in the old picture. He told me the owners know the photo did not contain the faces of eight children previously and they noticed it almost instantly afterward. After this they did some digging into the homes history and that the first owners did have eight children one of whom was never seen in public with the rest of the family. They also noted that after this took place, their son didn't have any more conversations with his imaginary friend. |
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Have you tried using Google Earth or Bing maps to see a satellite photo of the place? Originally Posted By RaisedByWolves:We still go up there, although there was a span of 3 years following the incident that we did not, but we dont go unarmed. . |
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Somewhere in Kenya a village is missing its idiot
Somewhere in Kenya a village is missing its idiot
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Originally Posted By FP2000H: I have waking sleep disorders and have the same experience fairly often. I now know its just my screwy dream state error and brush it off. Really creepy and weird until I knew what it is.When I was about six maybe seven, I think, I woke up in the middle of the night. Now, I've had my share of dreams and if I don't realize I'm in the dream while having it then I'll realize it soon after waking up. In other words, I am able to recognize the threshold we all cross between dream and real life. As a small child when I had nightmares, I used to bow my head in prayer and I would wake up in my bed. So, I was not only accustomed to recognizing the dream state but if it was particularly unpleasant I could escape it rather easily. My point is that the lucidity in the proceeding experience, I felt, was on par with the waking attention, i.e. I was awake. I woke up in the middle of the night and didn't know why. I seemed to be wide awake. We always slept with night lights on the wall so there was ambient light in the room. I hear the soft scuttling on the wood floor and think "cockroaches." Now, I hate cockroaches and I'm thinking I'm not about to set foot on the floor and go toe-to-toe with no Mexican cockroaches. The sound became very pronounced and suddenly seemed to be immediately around me whereas before I perceived to be localized at a more distant point in the room. The next sensation I have is one of weightlessness and then I become aware of movement. I'm moving. The whole bed is moving. In a very controlled fashion, the bed lifted off the floor (couldn't have been more than a few inches) moved a few feet in the room and then returned to its original position before setting back down again. I heard the sound again. This time it started up in my immediate vicinity and then diminished to silence. I wasn't scared throughout it, I just remember the utter disbelief at what was happening which is uncommon for dreams. In dreams, you usually accept what is happening around you without question. As I said, the clarity of this experience is what has made it stick with me. I've never really told anyone about it. |
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What is that? |
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Originally Posted By LuckyDucky:
What is that? Jump to here The short story archives. It is like a wikipedia of strange and unexplained stuff. |
The person who complains most, and is the most critical of others has the most to hide.
"I was just a child then, now I'm only a man." -- Roger Waters
Also, Fuck obama.
"I was just a child then, now I'm only a man." -- Roger Waters
Also, Fuck obama.
"Pathetic Earthlings... Who Can Save You Now?
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Originally Posted By LuckyDucky:
What is that? Exactly, WTF is that? 
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Originally Posted By EasTexan:
I'm sitting outside, playing guitar and I'm hearing Garth Brooks playing in the woods. I'm guessing it's some rednecks working on their truck like every night. Lol. Anyways it reminded me of my creepiest encounter I ever had out in the wilderness. I was bow fishing one night with some buddies out on Dam-b. Its a very eerie part of the state. Cypress trees covered in Spanish moss coupled with long leaf pines and mixed hardwoods. The shallow waters are great for hunting big gar. Anyways, we were about thirty miles from the nearest town and had traveled up the river by boat another 30 to get to the good spots. I tell ya, you go back in these woods and you step back in time. Untouched by man and so damn unforgiving, its no surprise. It was about 11:30 P.M. when we entered the slough. There was no sound except for the humming of the trolling motor. He had decided not to use the generator and the halogen lights but instead use some rigged handheld 500,000 spot lights so we could hunt coons as well. That's when we heard it. I was just putting a dip in when I heard the soft sound of music. Instantly, fear and confusion set in as I looked around. My buddies heard it as well and we could only listen, looking at each other for some sort of answer. No one could be out there, it was impossible. There were no roads, no way to climb the huge, clay cliffs made by the river. It was coming from the absolute wilderness. The tune was the most terrifying part. It was not a song anyone alive today would know. It sounded like it came from an old record player. It was scratchy and muffled with a woman's voice singing and it filled me with more adrenaline and fear than I have ever had in my whole life. I can only relate it to something from the turn of the century. By this time, Jake had stopped the trolling motor and we simply sat down and continued to listen. Its like we were in a trance. We know that back country and we know that this was not right. People never would have trecked through those marshes and woods to play a joke. Then the music simply faded away. We sat there in the dark, waiting for something to move, something to give its position away so we could put the lights on it. Whoever or whatever it was would have surely made noise in the swamp water. Nothing. Not a sound for thirty minutes. We felt after an experience like that, it was time to go. http://i138.photobucket.com/albums/q262/Texan6326/Damb.jpg Dude....that would freak me out |
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Originally Posted By Balista:
Originally Posted By LuckyDucky:
What is that? Exactly, WTF is that? http://www.olceoktavia.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/wtf.jpg in before someone says "I'd hit both!" |
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My only creepy story is from when I was in my teens. I went out in the wee hours one cold morning to watch a meteor shower. It was about 2-3am, I got bundled up, went out and set up my telescope and started watching for meteors.
My parents place is in a very rural area. There are neighbors within sight, with a few hundred yards between each house. I was out in the open, on top of a little knoll, I would guess 30 yards away from the front porch. While standing there, gazing up, I hear a very clear, very close exhale. Not like a normal letting your breath out, more like a sigh. A long slow sigh that sounded like the long A vowel sound... I could have sworn it was someone saying my name. So I figure someone, my dad or my sister, was out trying to give me the willies. So I go over to the porch and look around... no one there. Corner of the house? no one there. Garage? No one there. And there were motion lights at the back entrance of the house where the garage is which activated when I walked over there so obviously no one had come from that direction, and I definitely would have heard or seen someone exit the house from the front door 30 yards away from where I was standing in the silence. At this point I do get freaked out and abandon my telescope and go back inside. All the lights were still off, no one was stirring. So I got back in bed and lay there wide eyed the rest of the night. I do have a second hand creepy story. My wife's mother lived side by side with her mother, my wife's grandma. Every morning Grandma would call to see if she needed to babysit for the day, take the kids to school, etc. My wife's grandmother passed away years ago, but the first Monday after she passed, their phone rang that morning and when they picked it up no one was on the other end. They didn't find it creepy, but comforting in a way. For a few years we lived in the house where my wife's paternal grandfather had died, but never saw or heard anything creepy. |
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Originally Posted By Fnkystuf: Originally Posted By netofficer3710: Originally Posted By Banjaxed: I moonlight as a paramedic and working EMS you will see all kinds of creepy and fucked up things. Every shift I go in I do so with the knowledge that there is a good chance my face will be the last or first thing a person sees as they leave or enter this world. The one that sends a chill up my spine though happened last year while I was still doing clinicals. We received a call to a nursing home for a unresponsive 87 year old woman. When we picked her up it was obvious she was not long for this world. She coded three times on us before we got her to the ER. What freaked me out though was when she became responsive briefly during transport. I was starting an IV and she just sprang to life, grabbed my arm with a strength unholy for a frail old woman, looked me square in the eye and in a raspy, guttural way quietly screamed my name. The look in her eyes was unlike anything I had seen before or since. It felt like she was starring straight into my soul. What is so disturbing about that is that during no point had I introduced myself to her as she was unresponsive. Also being a dumb student I had forgotten my ID badge that day as well. I had never worked her before as a patient, nor meet her that I can recall in any capacity. Could be she mistook me for somebody else by the same name but it sure seemed meant for me. She died less than an hour after admission. To this day I still remember everything about that call like it just happened and it makes my blood run cold to remember her face and the way she called to me. Sometimes I close my eyes and still see that face. lol when you have a code you shouldn't assume they can't hear you. in EMT basic I was taught that you must watch what you say because when the patient comes back to they can at times recite what you said while they were out. my instructor once said "I don't think this ones going to make it" when a patient coded on her and when she saw him months later after he made a full recovery he told her he made it and he had heard what she said. Maybe not the best story for a "creepy" thread, but I'm hoping more people will read it this way. My grandpa just died a week ago. We knew it was coming, as he was diagnosed with prostate cancer 4 years ago. On Saturday (13 days ago) I saw him, and he was still alert. He was losing a lot of weight but never complained of pain or discomfort. 4 days later, it all went downhill. He was talking to himself, talking to people that weren't there, and making hand gestures as if he were fishing. My mom and I were there, but I don't think he made the connection that it was us. The next day he was unconscious. My mom had some music Grandpa liked on her Ipod, and we put the earphones in and his breathing changed a little when it started playing. Later, we put his hearing aid in. I was sitting next to him for a couple hours last Thursday, occasionally I would lean over and tell him I was there. Then I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back! He was still unconscious and unable to move or open his eyes. Later, my dad told me that he experienced the same thing. He squeezed Grandpa's hand, and Grandpa squeezed back. Then dad squeezed his hand twice, and Grandpa squeezed twice. Finally, just about 5 minutes before he died, my cousin was sitting next to him, telling him that all his grandchildren and great-grandchildren were all OK. As she was listing our names, he starting crying. And that was it. I know this is a pretty personal story to put out here for all to see, but I wanted others to know. My grandpa was out, but he could hear us and he knew we were there. After I heard about him crying, it made me feel at ease because while he was unconscious, I got to say goodbye and told him I loved him. Now I know he heard. I'm very sorry for your loss.  In May of 1999, my grandmother was on her death bed in Sarasota, Florida. My mother and father had been down there for a month at that point, with my father flying back to Syracuse once a week to tend to his business. As her death became imminent, my uncle flew down from Seattle. At that point, my grandmother had not been conscious or lucid for several days, and everyone - doctors included - expected that she would die without ever regaining consciousness. My uncle arrived in Sarasota around 7 at night. My parents picked him up at the airport and they decided they'd stop by the hospital before going to grab a bite to eat. When my parents and uncle walked in, my grandmother woke up, sat up in bed, and had a full, lively, lucid conversation with my mother, her brother (my uncle), and my father. After around 20 minutes she started to drift out of consciousness and the nurses suggested that they let her rest. She died shortly after they left the hospital. I can't explain it but I firmly believe that somehow she knew that both her children were there and that it would be her last chance to speak to them before she died. |
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"But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg." - Thomas Jefferson, Notes on the State of Virginia, 1782
"But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg." - Thomas Jefferson, Notes on the State of Virginia, 1782
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Originally Posted By wintermute:
While standing there, gazing up, I hear a very clear, very close exhale. Not like a normal letting your breath out, more like a sigh. A long slow sigh that sounded like the long A vowel sound... I could have sworn it was someone saying my name. Your parents named you "Ahhhhhh"??? |
The person who complains most, and is the most critical of others has the most to hide.
"I was just a child then, now I'm only a man." -- Roger Waters
Also, Fuck obama.
"I was just a child then, now I'm only a man." -- Roger Waters
Also, Fuck obama.
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Originally Posted By brass:
Originally Posted By wintermute:
While standing there, gazing up, I hear a very clear, very close exhale. Not like a normal letting your breath out, more like a sigh. A long slow sigh that sounded like the long A vowel sound... I could have sworn it was someone saying my name. Your parents named you "Ahhhhhh"??? lmao! 
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Originally Posted By EasTexan:
Originally Posted By Reservist:
Originally Posted By EasTexan:
Originally Posted By Reservist:
I wonder if some really old dude lived out in those woods and he was just listening to some music like he does every night. It would honestly make me feel better if it was. It's a spooky fuckin story man. Honestly do you have any kind of hypothesis at what it might have been? Or after the incident happened and you were heading back did anyone else in your group say something about it that sounded close to what it might have been? I just don't know... We were the only truck at the boat ramp that night with a boat. The other end of that river is dammed up next to Lake Sam Rayburn and that whole area is void of roads and houses. There are some river people that live on the lower side but nowhere where we were. Sound carries very well over water. How old is that lake where you were? Could a family have lived there during the depression or was it built after the 30s? |
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Originally Posted By sweptvolume:
Good one EasTexan! I was driving home one night and as I pulled up to the garage, I saw a dark form standing under our old sodium vapor lamp. Strange thing was, neither the light from the lamp, nor the light from my SUV actually illuminated it. I put the truck in park, grabbed a light jacket from the seat beside me, and stepped out, fully expecting to have found a lost child. As I got halfway to it, two eyes opened and shined brightly from within the dark form. At this point I am scared shitless, but before I could do anything besides stare in sheer terror, it left. Why do they have to do that? I hate it when they take it to the next level! |
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Not anything paranormal, but at the time it was creepy as hell and I felt powerless. In college, for a short period of time I lived off campus in an apartment that was above the office of a storage unit. It was a small storage facility, maybe 120 or so units and the office was downstairs in the main building, my apartment was directly above. There was a glass door on the outside on the ground level and then an interior set up stairs that led up to the apartment where there was my front door. One night, I wake up to the sound of the what sounded like the door handle on the glass door being jiggled like somebody was trying to get inside. At the time, I had a Beretta 96 and surefire in a drawer of the nightstand. I kept telling myself, grab the light and gun! Problem was, my body WOULD NOT MOVE! Looking back on it now, I would just chalk it up to sleep paralysis, but it had never happened to me before. The weird part was that it wasn't foggy like it was a dream, my eyes were open, I could hear the noise clear as day and I could see everything in my bedroom with detail just like if I was awake laying in bed. I could see the tv, see/hear the fan that was still running, see the light coming in from the window where a big security flood light would shine in, etc. I could not move my arms/legs/body no matter how hard I tried. The sound of the door would not stop and I was for sure that somebody was trying to get inside, but I could no move. I felt so scared and helpless. Not scared like it was some kind of creature, because the area that I lived in was pretty shady/lots of drugs/burglaries/etc so I just wanted to protect myself. I still to this day can't forget how helpless I felt not being able to move. A few minutes when by, the sound stopped and I fell back asleep. The next morning everything was fine and there was no evidence of forced entry on the outside door.
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| Tag for more reading later. Awesome thread! |
Originally Posted By Harvster:
I knew it. The balloon goes up and you guys are sitting around in your underwear talking about a one-hit-wonder from the eighties.
Originally Posted By capnrob97:
Who says I am wearing underwear?
I knew it. The balloon goes up and you guys are sitting around in your underwear talking about a one-hit-wonder from the eighties.
Originally Posted By capnrob97:
Who says I am wearing underwear?
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My father passed away 7 years ago.......
The day before he died, my 3 year old son asked me if we could "go see papa". This was a very random and out of the blue question coming from my son. He knew his Grandfather but had never made any comment pertaining to wanting to see him up to this point. Not thinking much of it, I called my dad to see what he was up to and got his answering machine. He called me back later that afternoon and left a message on my machine stating he was home now if I wanted to come over. It was getting late and between drive time and needing to feed and bathe my son before bed, I decided not make the trek to my dad's house. I called him and told him I would see him tomorrow. The next morning, April 1st...of all the days, no joke..... I was informed by my step mother that my dad was at the hospital and had passed. I was devastated and could not believe that I neglected to go see him just because it was getting late. I carried that guilt for a long time and still do. I truly believe my son subconciously knew something was going to happen and was trying to get us over there before it did. About a week after my dads passing we had a memorial at his house that he shared with my step mom. Everyone was there including friends, familiy and kids. Towards the end of the night we all sat in a circle just telling stories about my dad and sharing laughs and tears. At about midnight my wife and son and I decided to drive home. During the thirty minute drive everyone was quiet including my son who was never quiet. He just sat there with his eyes wide open starrng out the window. As we pulled into our subdivision my son from his car seat says "Papa Rich is happy". At the exact moment he says it, a rush of cold air enters the car and I cannot catch my breath. My wife says "Oh my God!". I ask my son.."What did you say??" and he says it again "Papa Rich is happy". I asked him why he would say that and he says "Because he is smiling". I asked "Smiling when?" for which my son replies "Now". Trying to make sense of what he is saying, I asked him "Did you see a picture of Grandpa Rich when we were sitting in the circle?" and he says "No, I see Papa Rich, flying and smiling now". My son then says "He is getting smaller...bye Papa Rich". I was paralized and did not know what to do or what to say. After we put my son to bed, my wife and I talked about what had happened and without me telling her what I felt, she described the same rush of cold air and the inability to breath while in the car. She did not want to tell me because she was afraid I would think she was crazy. She told me that, that was why she had said "Oh my God" was because of the feeling she felt, not what my son had said". We both felt and described it in the exact same way. It was way more that just chills or goose bumps. This was literally like stepping into a walk in freezer this was cold to the core, not just on the surface.. The inability to breath was like drowning without being in any water. This was something extremely heavy that I have never felt nor do I care to feel ever again. While laying there in bed, my wife reminded my how my son and my dad were connected. Not only was my son named after my dad, they were both lefties. She also reminded me that my son was conceived on April 1st three years earlier. |
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Originally Posted By Jarhead08:
Originally Posted By RaisedByWolves:
Originally Posted By 70satvert:
Originally Posted By RaisedByWolves:
snip Now that shit creeped me out.  I was talking to my brother about this thread last night and he jogged my memory about a few things I had forgotten over the years. When you know the history of the people who lived near there its even stranger. There was/is a family in that area named Cutterman that has a shady past and are generally thought of as in-breads, thieves and degenerates That dates back to the 1800's. This family made their fortune in timber in this area around 1850 or so and bought huge tracts of land. They were the Rockefellers of the region. Sometime around 1870 they tried to purchase a parcel of land near where our cabin sits but the owners didnt want to sell as the cabins here had been part of the underground rail road. And as every family has a family tree, so did the Cutterman. One enterprising branch of the timber tycoon's family got the big idea that he would get drunk and go burn down all the shacks on the parcel and gain his relative access to the land, as a sort of favor. Well, he set fire to all the shacks, but he got hit over the head for his troubles and was left to burn with the shacks. Long story short: The Tycoon guy got pegged for the shacks burning and the murders. He was accused of conspiracy to commit arson and 22 counts of murder even though he had nothing to do with it nor even had any knowledge and was hanged. The family wealth was seized and they were chased out of most of their homes by Vandals and politicians looking for revenge. At this point the family had lost all faith in Government and could not trust even friends so they pooled their resources and set up a sort of family commune in a Y shaped valley that they had left from a non timber related land deal. This valley didn't even have a road going in to it, so the family built one with picks and shovels that lead to the intersection of the valleys. It was not uncommon to be shot at if you happened to go down this road and very few people ever tried including the local police. It is alleged that these people have been inbreeding for generations and still live up there with no modern amenities save for a few vehicles and some long guns. A local gun shop in the area used to get a visitor from the family every few months who would come in with a gun and demand to chamber the ammo in his gun before paying as he had bought the wrong gauge once and couldnt return it. The last time the were seen en mass was during a 1980's census and the census taker took a guess at 60-70 people as he could get no closer as the stench and sight was too bad. Some of the more normal ones have been said to have bought houses outside of the valley from the proceeds of drug dealing and working for the Mob in some fashion related to contraband. Not many roads up there, but a hell of a lot of trails. To this day no one even speaks the name Cutterman in that area. Their afraid they might insult a family member. . Road Trip? Yeah road trip. Hasn't a movie already been made about your road trip?
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Originally Posted By rollin_hot: My father passed away 7 years ago....... The day before he died, my 3 year old son asked me if we could "go see papa". This was a very random and out of the blue question coming from my son. He knew his Grandfather but had never made any comment pertaining to wanting to see him up to this point. Not thinking much of it, I called my dad to see what he was up to and got his answering machine. He called me back later that afternoon and left a message on my machine stating he was home now if I wanted to come over. It was getting late and between drive time and needing to feed and bathe my son before bed, I decided not make the trek to my dad's house. I called him and told him I would see him tomorrow. The next morning, April 1st...of all the days, no joke..... I was informed by my step mother that my dad was at the hospital and had passed. I was devastated and could not believe that I neglected to go see him just because it was getting late. I carried that guilt for a long time and still do. I truly believe my son subconciously knew something was going to happen and was trying to get us over there before it did. About a week after my dads passing we had a memorial at his house that he shared with my step mom. Everyone was there including friends, familiy and kids. Towards the end of the night we all sat in a circle just telling stories about my dad and sharing laughs and tears. At about midnight my wife and son and I decided to drive home. During the thirty minute drive everyone was quiet including my son who was never quiet. He just sat there with his eyes wide open starrng out the window. As we pulled into our subdivision my son from his car seat says "Papa Rich is happy". At the exact moment he says it, a rush of cold air enters the car and I cannot catch my breath. My wife says "Oh my God!". I ask my son.."What did you say??" and he says it again "Papa Rich is happy". I asked him why he would say that and he says "Because he is smiling". I asked "Smiling when?" for which my son replies "Now". Trying to make sense of what he is saying, I asked him "Did you see a picture of Grandpa Rich when we were sitting in the circle?" and he says "No, I see Papa Rich, flying and smiling now". My son then says "He is getting smaller...bye Papa Rich". I was paralized and did not know what to do or what to say. After we put my son to bed, my wife and I talked about what had happened and without me telling her what I felt, she described the same rush of cold air and the inability to breath while in the car. She did not want to tell me because she was afraid I would think she was crazy. She told me that, that was why she had said "Oh my God" was because of the feeling she felt, not what my son had said". We both felt and described it in the exact same way. It was way more that just chills or goose bumps. This was literally like stepping into a walk in freezer this was cold to the core, not just on the surface.. The inability to breath was like drowning without being in any water. This was something extremely heavy that I have never felt nor do I care to feel ever again. While laying there in bed, my wife reminded my how my son and my dad were connected. Not only was my son named after my dad, they were both lefties. She also reminded me that my son was conceived on April 1st three years earlier. A similar event happened to my daughter that I posted earlier. That stated, these kinds of things happen too often to children that it cannot be a coincidence. |
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Originally Posted By Beamy:
Originally Posted By Gunfighter0313:
When I got out of the Marines a couple years ago, I met up with an old highschool friend I hadn't seen in ages. We went out for drinks and she was asking me what iraq was like and such, and I asked her what college was like in Orange County. She tells me the normal stuff and then tells me this story and to this day it still kinda freaks me out to think about. She went to Chapman and up until this incident she used to babysit for a family friend down there. Younger couple, but affluent. Nice neighborhood and younger kids. I remember her saying they were 2 and 4 at the time, but I might be off a tad. On the night in question my friend was babysitting as usual and put them to bed around 9pm and went downstairs to watch TV and study. The parents were also art collectors and had a lot of odd pieces around, namely one of those lifesize clown statues that looks real-ish sitting in a kids chair. She said she was weirded out by it but didnt think much of it, as rich people buy weird shit. But the longer she sat there the more of an odd feeling it gave her, so being much more brave than I, went and took a look at it. It was apparently very realistic, and she stared at it for a while but it still freaked her out, so she called the mother and asked if she could move the clown statue into another room, or closet preferably. The mother sounded confused for a moment then very alarmed and told my friend to get the kids and get across the street to the neighbors house, and that they were coming back immediately. So she woke the kids and got them out of the house to the neighbors, confused. Soon after police cars showed up and started searching around the house. The parents arrived soon after and came to the neighbors house and gave my friend an explanation. Apparently the older kid had been coming to breakfast every couple mornings for the past couple weeks saying that a clown had come to visit him again. They just thought it was imagination or dreams and such and didn't think much of it. Until my friend called and the mother realized that they don't own a clown statue. Soon after the police came back and reported that they had arrested a man in a clown outfit several blocks away. He turned out to be a mental patient that had escaped from a hospital a ways away. A search of the house showed that he was living in the houses basement that was under renovation and the family rarely used. The part that bothered me the most, was that she stared at the fucking thing and he didn't blink or move. I would have shit bricks after hearing that.  fuck that shitA big +1 to that! |
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This is not my story, but it is one of the scariest ones I've ever read:
When I and my wife were quite a bit younger, we decided that we would spend the bicentennial outdoors. Yes, July of '76......we're old. We lived in Pueblo at the time, and decided to go hiking, fishing and camp along Lime Creek between Durango and Silverton. There wasn't anything other than brookies in the creek, but they were plentiful and fun to catch. We left our car by the side of the road along Old Lime Creek Road about 5 miles in from the highway and packed in upstream along the creek with our shepherd, Rebel. It only took us about an hour to get to where we wanted to camp, a nice meadow beside the creek just before a slot canyon that required you to swim to get any further upstream. Either that or take a several mile detour. We camped uneventfully that night, the third of July, enjoying the sounds of the rippling creek and nature all around us. It was such a nice night that we just slept out under the stars, didn't bother to pitch our little backpacking tent. A little cool, but we had the fire going and our lightweight 30 degree bags, so we were very comfortable. The next day we had breakfast, packed up and we all swam our way up the creek to the next wide spot with a bit of bank in the canyon, only about 150 yards or so. Now Rebel was never one to turn down a chance to get wet, but we had to do quite a bit of coaxing to get him to follow us up the creek. We fished and splashed upstream a bit, and before we knew it it was lunchtime. We thought we'd fry up some of those brookies but we were in this slot canyon that terminated in a fairly deep pool with about a ten foot rocky waterfall at the end of it. We decided that I would scale the waterfall and pull the dog and the packs up and then I'd help Maggie get up. It was fairly difficult, even with the help of an old cable left over from a mining operation that was hanging down the side wall of the canyon. It took a LOT of effort and though we finally made it, we looked back down that waterfall and wondered what the heck we were thinking. Rebel was none too happy about it either, and seemed to get more irritable by the minute. We found enough driftwood at the rocky top of the falls to get a fire started and get the fish fried up, but that was about it. You know the uneasy feeling that several others have mentioned? It was like a switch turned on and we all of a sudden became aware of our surroundings. It grew like a cancer and I actually watched the hair on the back of Rebel's neck stand up. Maggie felt it too and we both noticed that it was getting dark FAST down in this canyon. First thought in my head was a cat, and I actually felt a bit better about that because I figured the cat would leave us be, between the fire and the dog. I told Maggie what I thought and she seemed to feel a bit better, too. I did not want to get caught in the dark in the canyon, for a bunch of reasons, flash floods etc. I spied what looked like a mine shaft about 2 hundred feet above us, a heck of a steep climb, but it looked like our best bet. We pulled out our flashlights and by the time we reached it it was PITCH black. The dog was a mess by this point, whipping around in circles, whining, yelping and generally being a real pain in the ass. Maggie and I were drenched with sweat and immediately began to freeze. July in the mountains is a weird thing, I have seen blizzard conditions before, but this was like someone turned on the deep freeze. We were at what looked like the start of a mine, it only went back about ten feet, but there was evidence of fires at the mouth, and they curiously looked fresh. I was too tired to think more about it, I knew we had to get out of our wet clothes, pitch the tent, and climb in our bags before we got serious hypothermia. That was NO fun, let me tell you, having to do all of that by the light of our rapidly dying flashlight. And there was NO firewood anywhere close. I cursed myself several times for letting things get this far out of control. We finally got the tent pitched right there in the back of this little cave , buck naked as we had no dry clothes left. The sleeping bags were slightly damp too, even though we had stuffed them in plastic garbage bags before our swimming expedition up the canyon. WE FROZE!! It was miserable. About 1 in the morning I called Rebel into the tent for a little heat. The dog seemed to have calmed down greatly, and with the added heat we drifted off. Sometime during the night I heard something that just about woke me, I was still in a haze, so I fell asleep again immediately. I woke up one other time, because I thought I heard Rebel yip a little bit, but again I was in and out. I put my hand out to pet his head and he licked my hand. I fell asleep again. Maggie later said she fell asleep the same time as I did but never woke up at all during the night. I woke to the most horrible noise I have ever heard come out of a hundred pound woman. Just the most God-awful shrieks that I have ever heard. I never want to hear that again. I opened my eyes just in time to see a man at the mouth of the shaft, silhouetted against the morning daylight, looking back at us with the most twisted evil grin I have ever seen on the face of another human. I scrambled to get free of my tightly zipped bag and the little tent while he just crouched there and grinned. When I was just about free, he disappeared. Now, we were granola crunchin' tree huggin' anti-gun nature freaks at the time, so the only thing I had of any consequence as a weapon was my camp knife. I found it after what seemed like hours of searching, but really was probably under a minute. I very cautiously made my way to the entrance, millimeters at a time. The guy was gone. About that time Maggie started screaming and whimpering again so I rushed back to the back of the shaft. She had struggled out of the tent and was pointing at what used to be Rebel. His head was nearly severed, and the tent and the bags were ruined with the blood all over everything. She had blood all over her, so the first thing I did was make sure she was not injured. Then I checked myself. We were ok,it was all Rebel's blood. We put on our still damp cold clothes from the night before and then we noticed that our boots were gone. We were in trouble. I had some paracord, so we tied some shirts and towels around our feet and climbed back down towards the creek. We left everything in the mine, except for the knife and some stuff that we shoved in our pockets. It took us 8 hours to get back down to the car, and we were like hamburger. Hands, feet, arms and legs scraped raw, bruised and bleeding. We jumped in, the car started right up thankfully and we left a dust cloud that blanketed the valley as we sped down the rough trail toward Durango. We limped into the Sheriff's office and we looked like hell. We got our story out, my wife through tears and me talking waaay too fast. but finally got it all out. The deputy said that they would go out first thing in the morning and asked us to stay in town. We had no money for a hotel, so he let us stay in a cell after we showered and changed into prison jumpsuits. We were there at the jail waiting when the "expedition" returned with the convoy of three trucks. I noticed that all the officers, who were quite wet and filthy, gave us dirty looks as they passed us, and the Deputy that we had talked to the day before herded us back to his office. Then came the interrogation. Turns out that some animal had spread the dog's remains all down the slide to the creek, and he said that there was nothing else there. No tent, no backpacks, nothing. He asked us if we had any drugs. I did not want to admit to him that we had some herb, so I denied it. It was clear that we were fighting a losing battle. They had come to the conclusion that we were wandering out in the woods high on LSD while a mountain lion had gotten our dog. The bastard even made us change back into our filthy clothes and give back the jumpsuits right then. He told us that he had better never see us again. We left. Maggie was sobbing. I never have been back to Durango. The thing that I still have nightmares about years later, and I have never mentioned this to Maggie, is....... the second time I woke up when I heard Rebel yelp, was that when his throat was cut?.......and if it was, was it the dog who licked my hand before I fell back asleep? I still go out in the wilderness, never overnight, out well before dark, only with other people, and always with a big gun. I respect animals, but I fear people. |
.mil acft fixer, Penna boy living in South Canada
Joined:
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Posts:
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EE: 100% (7)
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Originally Posted By pinabyu:
This is not my story, but it is one of the scariest ones I've ever read: When I and my wife were quite a bit younger, we decided that we would spend the bicentennial outdoors. Yes, July of '76......we're old. We lived in Pueblo at the time, and decided to go hiking, fishing and camp along Lime Creek between Durango and Silverton. There wasn't anything other than brookies in the creek, but they were plentiful and fun to catch. We left our car by the side of the road along Old Lime Creek Road about 5 miles in from the highway and packed in upstream along the creek with our shepherd, Rebel. It only took us about an hour to get to where we wanted to camp, a nice meadow beside the creek just before a slot canyon that required you to swim to get any further upstream. Either that or take a several mile detour. We camped uneventfully that night, the third of July, enjoying the sounds of the rippling creek and nature all around us. It was such a nice night that we just slept out under the stars, didn't bother to pitch our little backpacking tent. A little cool, but we had the fire going and our lightweight 30 degree bags, so we were very comfortable. The next day we had breakfast, packed up and we all swam our way up the creek to the next wide spot with a bit of bank in the canyon, only about 150 yards or so. Now Rebel was never one to turn down a chance to get wet, but we had to do quite a bit of coaxing to get him to follow us up the creek. We fished and splashed upstream a bit, and before we knew it it was lunchtime. We thought we'd fry up some of those brookies but we were in this slot canyon that terminated in a fairly deep pool with about a ten foot rocky waterfall at the end of it. We decided that I would scale the waterfall and pull the dog and the packs up and then I'd help Maggie get up. It was fairly difficult, even with the help of an old cable left over from a mining operation that was hanging down the side wall of the canyon. It took a LOT of effort and though we finally made it, we looked back down that waterfall and wondered what the heck we were thinking. Rebel was none too happy about it either, and seemed to get more irritable by the minute. We found enough driftwood at the rocky top of the falls to get a fire started and get the fish fried up, but that was about it. You know the uneasy feeling that several others have mentioned? It was like a switch turned on and we all of a sudden became aware of our surroundings. It grew like a cancer and I actually watched the hair on the back of Rebel's neck stand up. Maggie felt it too and we both noticed that it was getting dark FAST down in this canyon. First thought in my head was a cat, and I actually felt a bit better about that because I figured the cat would leave us be, between the fire and the dog. I told Maggie what I thought and she seemed to feel a bit better, too. I did not want to get caught in the dark in the canyon, for a bunch of reasons, flash floods etc. I spied what looked like a mine shaft about 2 hundred feet above us, a heck of a steep climb, but it looked like our best bet. We pulled out our flashlights and by the time we reached it it was PITCH black. The dog was a mess by this point, whipping around in circles, whining, yelping and generally being a real pain in the ass. Maggie and I were drenched with sweat and immediately began to freeze. July in the mountains is a weird thing, I have seen blizzard conditions before, but this was like someone turned on the deep freeze. We were at what looked like the start of a mine, it only went back about ten feet, but there was evidence of fires at the mouth, and they curiously looked fresh. I was too tired to think more about it, I knew we had to get out of our wet clothes, pitch the tent, and climb in our bags before we got serious hypothermia. That was NO fun, let me tell you, having to do all of that by the light of our rapidly dying flashlight. And there was NO firewood anywhere close. I cursed myself several times for letting things get this far out of control. We finally got the tent pitched right there in the back of this little cave , buck naked as we had no dry clothes left. The sleeping bags were slightly damp too, even though we had stuffed them in plastic garbage bags before our swimming expedition up the canyon. WE FROZE!! It was miserable. About 1 in the morning I called Rebel into the tent for a little heat. The dog seemed to have calmed down greatly, and with the added heat we drifted off. Sometime during the night I heard something that just about woke me, I was still in a haze, so I fell asleep again immediately. I woke up one other time, because I thought I heard Rebel yip a little bit, but again I was in and out. I put my hand out to pet his head and he licked my hand. I fell asleep again. Maggie later said she fell asleep the same time as I did but never woke up at all during the night. I woke to the most horrible noise I have ever heard come out of a hundred pound woman. Just the most God-awful shrieks that I have ever heard. I never want to hear that again. I opened my eyes just in time to see a man at the mouth of the shaft, silhouetted against the morning daylight, looking back at us with the most twisted evil grin I have ever seen on the face of another human. I scrambled to get free of my tightly zipped bag and the little tent while he just crouched there and grinned. When I was just about free, he disappeared. Now, we were granola crunchin' tree huggin' anti-gun nature freaks at the time, so the only thing I had of any consequence as a weapon was my camp knife. I found it after what seemed like hours of searching, but really was probably under a minute. I very cautiously made my way to the entrance, millimeters at a time. The guy was gone. About that time Maggie started screaming and whimpering again so I rushed back to the back of the shaft. She had struggled out of the tent and was pointing at what used to be Rebel. His head was nearly severed, and the tent and the bags were ruined with the blood all over everything. She had blood all over her, so the first thing I did was make sure she was not injured. Then I checked myself. We were ok,it was all Rebel's blood. We put on our still damp cold clothes from the night before and then we noticed that our boots were gone. We were in trouble. I had some paracord, so we tied some shirts and towels around our feet and climbed back down towards the creek. We left everything in the mine, except for the knife and some stuff that we shoved in our pockets. It took us 8 hours to get back down to the car, and we were like hamburger. Hands, feet, arms and legs scraped raw, bruised and bleeding. We jumped in, the car started right up thankfully and we left a dust cloud that blanketed the valley as we sped down the rough trail toward Durango. We limped into the Sheriff's office and we looked like hell. We got our story out, my wife through tears and me talking waaay too fast. but finally got it all out. The deputy said that they would go out first thing in the morning and asked us to stay in town. We had no money for a hotel, so he let us stay in a cell after we showered and changed into prison jumpsuits. We were there at the jail waiting when the "expedition" returned with the convoy of three trucks. I noticed that all the officers, who were quite wet and filthy, gave us dirty looks as they passed us, and the Deputy that we had talked to the day before herded us back to his office. Then came the interrogation. Turns out that some animal had spread the dog's remains all down the slide to the creek, and he said that there was nothing else there. No tent, no backpacks, nothing. He asked us if we had any drugs. I did not want to admit to him that we had some herb, so I denied it. It was clear that we were fighting a losing battle. They had come to the conclusion that we were wandering out in the woods high on LSD while a mountain lion had gotten our dog. The bastard even made us change back into our filthy clothes and give back the jumpsuits right then. He told us that he had better never see us again. We left. Maggie was sobbing. I never have been back to Durango. The thing that I still have nightmares about years later, and I have never mentioned this to Maggie, is....... the second time I woke up when I heard Rebel yelp, was that when his throat was cut?.......and if it was, was it the dog who licked my hand before I fell back asleep? I still go out in the wilderness, never overnight, out well before dark, only with other people, and always with a big gun. I respect animals, but I fear people. that's csome crazy shit to say the least |
If guns kill, then silverware makes people fat
SSgt, USAF
2A571
former C-130 Hercules Crew Chief/ B-52H Stratofortress Dedicated Crew Chief
SSgt, USAF
2A571
former C-130 Hercules Crew Chief/ B-52H Stratofortress Dedicated Crew Chief
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Originally Posted By pinabyu: This is not my story, but it is one of the scariest ones I've ever read: When I and my wife were quite a bit younger, we decided that we would spend the bicentennial outdoors. Yes, July of '76......we're old. We lived in Pueblo at the time, and decided to go hiking, fishing and camp along Lime Creek between Durango and Silverton. There wasn't anything other than brookies in the creek, but they were plentiful and fun to catch. SNIP... I still go out in the wilderness, never overnight, out well before dark, only with other people, and always with a big gun. I respect animals, but I fear people. Thank you for posting! Believe it or not just this morning I started thinking to ask if anybody knew where to find this story. I've read it before but couldn't figure out where. |
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Originally Posted By Balista:
Originally Posted By LuckyDucky:
What is that? Exactly, WTF is that? http://www.olceoktavia.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/wtf.jpg That freaked me right the fuck out! Who wears a Bob Marley shirt? Fucking sick. And someone help that poor lady with alzheimers put on her makeup... |
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Originally Posted By Laramie:
Not anything paranormal, but at the time it was creepy as hell and I felt powerless. In college, for a short period of time I lived off campus in an apartment that was above the office of a storage unit. It was a small storage facility, maybe 120 or so units and the office was downstairs in the main building, my apartment was directly above. There was a glass door on the outside on the ground level and then an interior set up stairs that led up to the apartment where there was my front door. One night, I wake up to the sound of the what sounded like the door handle on the glass door being jiggled like somebody was trying to get inside. At the time, I had a Beretta 96 and surefire in a drawer of the nightstand. I kept telling myself, grab the light and gun! Problem was, my body WOULD NOT MOVE! Looking back on it now, I would just chalk it up to sleep paralysis, but it had never happened to me before. The weird part was that it wasn't foggy like it was a dream, my eyes were open, I could hear the noise clear as day and I could see everything in my bedroom with detail just like if I was awake laying in bed. I could see the tv, see/hear the fan that was still running, see the light coming in from the window where a big security flood light would shine in, etc. I could not move my arms/legs/body no matter how hard I tried. The sound of the door would not stop and I was for sure that somebody was trying to get inside, but I could no move. I felt so scared and helpless. Not scared like it was some kind of creature, because the area that I lived in was pretty shady/lots of drugs/burglaries/etc so I just wanted to protect myself. I still to this day can't forget how helpless I felt not being able to move. A few minutes when by, the sound stopped and I fell back asleep. The next morning everything was fine and there was no evidence of forced entry on the outside door. I remember a little bout with sleep paralysis a while back. I had a bit of a bad nightmare where I saw some relatively freaky shit, and instead of snapping awake, the last frame of my dream just kind of faded into the window pane where I was facing. This was in the middle of the night, so it was still dark. I could get my head to move, and I felt "oh fuck, don't look at the feet of your bed, there's gonna be some succubus or some shit that'll be doing some creepy shit" but, interestingly, I thought this to myself as deadpanned as possible. Like in this face: And I turn to the bottom of my bed... and see nothing. So I wait a bit, convinced that I'm in some sort of shitty nightmare, and at any moment, there's gonna be that token jolt at the end of a horror movie trailer that no one sees coming. You have to remember, that at no point did I really "wake up", I just had the after image of the last thing I saw in the dream 'melt' into the real world. On top of this, I'm typically a lucid dreamer, and I'm always aware in my dreams that I am dreaming (even if sometimes I wish it were real ) And I'm pretty skeptical, even as I observe the world in a paralytic state, that I've even woke up.
So I kind of wait there until I can move my feet, and then I get control over everything again. I reach for my pistol, which I had been wanting to do the whole time, but wonder if I'm awake or not. I sit up, look at the alarm clock to note the passage of time, and ask myself if it feels real. It does thankfully, and I'm fairly confident that I'm awake now. So I go back to sleep. And that's when it jumped in my face! Just kidding, I went back to sleep fine, I ain't fucking waking up at 3am, sleep paralysis demons or not. All in all, pretty gay, but I'd do it again, it was kind of cool just for teh lulz, but not an enjoyable experience. |
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Creepiest thing I got.
Me and my girlfriend (now wife) we playing scrabble at her mothers house one night. We had been playing for quite some time, and Im looking at my letters, just trying to figure out a word. Staring and staring at them, reading them backwords, and scrambling them, all in my head mind you, I never touched them in the tray, just staring at them. Then it hit me, it was spelled out and spaced between the two words "Pray Now". Creeped me out, hairs stood up on the back of my neck, I explained to my girlfriend and showed her, then I prayed.
Thats about as creepy as it gets for me, but it was staring me in the face for a good five minutes before I realized it. |
A government big enough to give you everything, is big enough to take everything away.
Fuck Obama.
Fuck Obama.
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Originally Posted By brass:
Originally Posted By wintermute:
While standing there, gazing up, I hear a very clear, very close exhale. Not like a normal letting your breath out, more like a sigh. A long slow sigh that sounded like the long A vowel sound... I could have sworn it was someone saying my name. Your parents named you "Ahhhhhh"??? Ha. Yep. Its James, shouldve mentioned that I guess. |
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Originally Posted By Sleepy1988: Bump. 30 pages by Halloween! The original creepy thread is three years old, still active, and only 25 pages. ETA http://www.ar15.com/forums/t_1_5/762310_Ok__boys_and_girls__it_s_time_for_another_CREEPY_THREAD.html |
كافر
Jumpers hit it!
ARFCOM Minecraft Server: 204.51.97.163
Jumpers hit it!
ARFCOM Minecraft Server: 204.51.97.163
There is some great reads in here. I have had a few run ins with the paranormal over the last 38 years, and they are in the other thread I am sure. You guys stay safe, I dont know what creeps me out more, the paranormal ghost stuff or the inbred hillbilly/ bigfoot stories. Ghosts cant really harm you unless you shit yourself to death, and given enough mags and proper shot placement you can drop a bigfoot and go into history books. Just not sure which scares me more 
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Originally Posted By Beamy:
Originally Posted By pinabyu:
This is not my story, but it is one of the scariest ones I've ever read: When I and my wife were quite a bit younger, we decided that we would spend the bicentennial outdoors. Yes, July of '76......we're old. We lived in Pueblo at the time, and decided to go hiking, fishing and camp along Lime Creek between Durango and Silverton. There wasn't anything other than brookies in the creek, but they were plentiful and fun to catch. We left our car by the side of the road along Old Lime Creek Road about 5 miles in from the highway and packed in upstream along the creek with our shepherd, Rebel. It only took us about an hour to get to where we wanted to camp, a nice meadow beside the creek just before a slot canyon that required you to swim to get any further upstream. Either that or take a several mile detour. We camped uneventfully that night, the third of July, enjoying the sounds of the rippling creek and nature all around us. It was such a nice night that we just slept out under the stars, didn't bother to pitch our little backpacking tent. A little cool, but we had the fire going and our lightweight 30 degree bags, so we were very comfortable. The next day we had breakfast, packed up and we all swam our way up the creek to the next wide spot with a bit of bank in the canyon, only about 150 yards or so. Now Rebel was never one to turn down a chance to get wet, but we had to do quite a bit of coaxing to get him to follow us up the creek. We fished and splashed upstream a bit, and before we knew it it was lunchtime. We thought we'd fry up some of those brookies but we were in this slot canyon that terminated in a fairly deep pool with about a ten foot rocky waterfall at the end of it. We decided that I would scale the waterfall and pull the dog and the packs up and then I'd help Maggie get up. It was fairly difficult, even with the help of an old cable left over from a mining operation that was hanging down the side wall of the canyon. It took a LOT of effort and though we finally made it, we looked back down that waterfall and wondered what the heck we were thinking. Rebel was none too happy about it either, and seemed to get more irritable by the minute. We found enough driftwood at the rocky top of the falls to get a fire started and get the fish fried up, but that was about it. You know the uneasy feeling that several others have mentioned? It was like a switch turned on and we all of a sudden became aware of our surroundings. It grew like a cancer and I actually watched the hair on the back of Rebel's neck stand up. Maggie felt it too and we both noticed that it was getting dark FAST down in this canyon. First thought in my head was a cat, and I actually felt a bit better about that because I figured the cat would leave us be, between the fire and the dog. I told Maggie what I thought and she seemed to feel a bit better, too. I did not want to get caught in the dark in the canyon, for a bunch of reasons, flash floods etc. I spied what looked like a mine shaft about 2 hundred feet above us, a heck of a steep climb, but it looked like our best bet. We pulled out our flashlights and by the time we reached it it was PITCH black. The dog was a mess by this point, whipping around in circles, whining, yelping and generally being a real pain in the ass. Maggie and I were drenched with sweat and immediately began to freeze. July in the mountains is a weird thing, I have seen blizzard conditions before, but this was like someone turned on the deep freeze. We were at what looked like the start of a mine, it only went back about ten feet, but there was evidence of fires at the mouth, and they curiously looked fresh. I was too tired to think more about it, I knew we had to get out of our wet clothes, pitch the tent, and climb in our bags before we got serious hypothermia. That was NO fun, let me tell you, having to do all of that by the light of our rapidly dying flashlight. And there was NO firewood anywhere close. I cursed myself several times for letting things get this far out of control. We finally got the tent pitched right there in the back of this little cave , buck naked as we had no dry clothes left. The sleeping bags were slightly damp too, even though we had stuffed them in plastic garbage bags before our swimming expedition up the canyon. WE FROZE!! It was miserable. About 1 in the morning I called Rebel into the tent for a little heat. The dog seemed to have calmed down greatly, and with the added heat we drifted off. Sometime during the night I heard something that just about woke me, I was still in a haze, so I fell asleep again immediately. I woke up one other time, because I thought I heard Rebel yip a little bit, but again I was in and out. I put my hand out to pet his head and he licked my hand. I fell asleep again. Maggie later said she fell asleep the same time as I did but never woke up at all during the night. I woke to the most horrible noise I have ever heard come out of a hundred pound woman. Just the most God-awful shrieks that I have ever heard. I never want to hear that again. I opened my eyes just in time to see a man at the mouth of the shaft, silhouetted against the morning daylight, looking back at us with the most twisted evil grin I have ever seen on the face of another human. I scrambled to get free of my tightly zipped bag and the little tent while he just crouched there and grinned. When I was just about free, he disappeared. Now, we were granola crunchin' tree huggin' anti-gun nature freaks at the time, so the only thing I had of any consequence as a weapon was my camp knife. I found it after what seemed like hours of searching, but really was probably under a minute. I very cautiously made my way to the entrance, millimeters at a time. The guy was gone. About that time Maggie started screaming and whimpering again so I rushed back to the back of the shaft. She had struggled out of the tent and was pointing at what used to be Rebel. His head was nearly severed, and the tent and the bags were ruined with the blood all over everything. She had blood all over her, so the first thing I did was make sure she was not injured. Then I checked myself. We were ok,it was all Rebel's blood. We put on our still damp cold clothes from the night before and then we noticed that our boots were gone. We were in trouble. I had some paracord, so we tied some shirts and towels around our feet and climbed back down towards the creek. We left everything in the mine, except for the knife and some stuff that we shoved in our pockets. It took us 8 hours to get back down to the car, and we were like hamburger. Hands, feet, arms and legs scraped raw, bruised and bleeding. We jumped in, the car started right up thankfully and we left a dust cloud that blanketed the valley as we sped down the rough trail toward Durango. We limped into the Sheriff's office and we looked like hell. We got our story out, my wife through tears and me talking waaay too fast. but finally got it all out. The deputy said that they would go out first thing in the morning and asked us to stay in town. We had no money for a hotel, so he let us stay in a cell after we showered and changed into prison jumpsuits. We were there at the jail waiting when the "expedition" returned with the convoy of three trucks. I noticed that all the officers, who were quite wet and filthy, gave us dirty looks as they passed us, and the Deputy that we had talked to the day before herded us back to his office. Then came the interrogation. Turns out that some animal had spread the dog's remains all down the slide to the creek, and he said that there was nothing else there. No tent, no backpacks, nothing. He asked us if we had any drugs. I did not want to admit to him that we had some herb, so I denied it. It was clear that we were fighting a losing battle. They had come to the conclusion that we were wandering out in the woods high on LSD while a mountain lion had gotten our dog. The bastard even made us change back into our filthy clothes and give back the jumpsuits right then. He told us that he had better never see us again. We left. Maggie was sobbing. I never have been back to Durango. The thing that I still have nightmares about years later, and I have never mentioned this to Maggie, is....... the second time I woke up when I heard Rebel yelp, was that when his throat was cut?.......and if it was, was it the dog who licked my hand before I fell back asleep? I still go out in the wilderness, never overnight, out well before dark, only with other people, and always with a big gun. I respect animals, but I fear people. that's csome crazy shit to say the least No kidding! |
Is it not strange that ignorance and complaisance are stronger than wisdom? (Marcus Aurelius, Meditations)
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Originally Posted By wintermute:
My only creepy story is from when I was in my teens. I went out in the wee hours one cold morning to watch a meteor shower. It was about 2-3am, I got bundled up, went out and set up my telescope and started watching for meteors. My parents place is in a very rural area. There are neighbors within sight, with a few hundred yards between each house. I was out in the open, on top of a little knoll, I would guess 30 yards away from the front porch. While standing there, gazing up, I hear a very clear, very close exhale. Not like a normal letting your breath out, more like a sigh. A long slow sigh that sounded like the long A vowel sound... I could have sworn it was someone saying my name. So I figure someone, my dad or my sister, was out trying to give me the willies. So I go over to the porch and look around... no one there. Corner of the house? no one there. Garage? No one there. And there were motion lights at the back entrance of the house where the garage is which activated when I walked over there so obviously no one had come from that direction, and I definitely would have heard or seen someone exit the house from the front door 30 yards away from where I was standing in the silence. At this point I do get freaked out and abandon my telescope and go back inside. All the lights were still off, no one was stirring. So I got back in bed and lay there wide eyed the rest of the night. I do have a second hand creepy story. My wife's mother lived side by side with her mother, my wife's grandma. Every morning Grandma would call to see if she needed to babysit for the day, take the kids to school, etc. My wife's grandmother passed away years ago, but the first Monday after she passed, their phone rang that morning and when they picked it up no one was on the other end. They didn't find it creepy, but comforting in a way. For a few years we lived in the house where my wife's paternal grandfather had died, but never saw or heard anything creepy. When I was a boy I lived in a semi-rural area, and I spent a lot of time in the woods. I recall that once in awhile when I was off by myself in the woods exploring, I would sometimes think I heard the sound of someone calling my name as carried from a long distance off on the wind. It was weird, and I am certain that no one was actually calling my name. I wonder if that experience is common? |
"Do you believe any of this voodoo bullshit, Blair?" - Childs.
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When I was in college, I used to ride the bus to my grandmother's house once in awhile and stay the weekend. It was nice for me to get a chance to sit and talk to her, and it also gave me an opportunity to help her out with odd jobs around the house like changing light bulbs, putting screens in the windows, etc.
She lived (and still does) alone with no pets in a two story bungalow-style house. I always slept in the same place-upstairs and in the bedroom all the way at the end of the hallway. Not sure why that was always my spot, since she has two other empty bedrooms, but that's the one I always used. The bedroom is T-shaped, with the head of the bed at the top center of the "T" facing the "leg". The door to the room is positioned in the right side of the top of the "T" if you're laying in bed on your back. Anyway, I had been up late watching TV, long after my grandma was asleep in her room. I was getting sleepy at around 2AM and decided to call it a night. I climbed the stairs, walked down the hallway, and covered up in bed. I lay awake for longer than I expected to, but was finally just starting to doze when I heard it. Something starting tapping on the carpeted floor at the opposite end of the room. It literally sounded like someone had crouched down and was rapidly and rhythmically drumming their hand on the floor. I immediately froze, my body tensing up, listening to what my logical mind kept trying to insist was either my imagination, or was coming from somewhere outside the room. It wasn't. The house was quiet, with the exception of that continual tapping coming from several feet past the foot of my bed. The room was far too dark to see anything, but I was too afraid to try and get out of bed and make it to the light switch. Finally the tapping stopped, and I lay there still not moving, trying to keep my rapid breathing quiet, my heart pounding in my throat. Then it really got bad. A few seconds after the tapping stopped, I heard the distinct sound of light footsteps approaching the bed. The steps came straight to the foot of the bed, and then diverted and came around the side of the bed and stopped RIGHT BY MY HEAD! At this point, I was terrified at a level I've not experienced before or since. Whatever was standing there by the side of my bed was between me and the door and lightswitch. I remained frozen, unsure of what to do, and unsure if I'd be able to move if I wanted to. There was silence for about 30 seconds, during which I got the impression that something was studying me intently. Then the footsteps started up again, slowly and unhurriedly walking back toward the foot of the bed, around the foot, and up the other side. Again, once they reached the head of the bed, they stopped. Silence again for around 30 seconds, and then the light, methodical footsteps moved back to the far side of the room, and stopped. I lay there still terrified for a long, long time. Looking back, I wonder why I never got up and turned the light on. Eventually, I somehow managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep, and didn't have any further incidents for the rest of the night. Still to this day have no clue what that was all about, but I've stayed in that room many times since, and never had any problems. |
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Originally Posted By ArmyAirborne:
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Bump. 30 pages by Halloween! The original creepy thread is three years old, still active, and only 25 pages. ETA http://www.ar15.com/forums/t_1_5/762310_Ok__boys_and_girls__it_s_time_for_another_CREEPY_THREAD.html I guess I'd better revise that.............let's try for 10, maybe 15.
Originally Posted By 57fairlane:
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Winnetka/Canoga Park The house is near Roscoe Blvd which was the only main road out that way when my great-grandparents moved out there. Thanks for the answer. |
