It's time for another CREEPY thread. (Page 1 of 156)
Posted: 9/7/2011 12:29:55 AM EDT
[Last Edit: EasTexan][Edited]
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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. 
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“Man was born free, and he is everywhere in chains. Those who think themselves masters of others are indeed greater slaves than they." Jean-Jacques Rousseau
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Originally Posted By Beardog308:
My oldest daughter graduated high school in 2011. At her graduation she was itching to take off for grad night with her friends. A family friend took a quick pic and said she'd email it to me. When I opened the email a couple days later, I nearly shit myself. In the pic, I'm side by side with my kid; my arm around her. Off my daughter's right shoulder but five feet behind her is a smiling girl dressed from the 80's with 80's hair. The girl looked exactly like my daughter's mom, my deceased wife who passed in 2006. I showed the pic to my ex MIL who turned white. Once she composed herself, she dug up my wife's 8th grade graduation picture where she was wearing the exact same clothes. where's the wife's 8th grade pic so we can compare? |
If some catastrophic event happens and most of humanity is wiped from the face of the earth, the only people left to hang out with will be you guys! Oh the horror! -- Boombastic
No situation is ever so bad that the government can't make it worse.
No situation is ever so bad that the government can't make it worse.
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Was taking out the trash the other night after a good rain. My mother in law left a large clear storage bin right side up on one of my lounge chairs and it was filled a good amount with water from the past few days. I dumped the trash and when I came back in I dumped it on its side to let all the water out and moved out of the way back towards the door so my shoes didn't get wet. Go back inside dick around cleaning up the mess from dinner in the kitchen then proceed to feed the pups. After they finish they want to go out so I put on their leashes and walk out the door and stopped dead in my tracks. A set of footprints tracked from the main puddle I dumped near the gate door to the slider in front of my kitchen where I was the past half hour. The footprints were bare as well which was weird. Also weird was my gate door. During raining season it's almost always swollen from the water so you kind of have to shoulder the fucker to get it to budge. It's loud enough where you can hear it upstairs, yet there was no sound. Didnt really know what to do but just look around and take my dogs out. Was pretty fucking weird. |
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Originally Posted By AR-Builder-Upper:
If you're lucky, they'll go away. If you're unlucky, they could become more malicious, or even render you impotent. Without knowing the being or intent of the entity, I don't think it's worth the risk. Originally Posted By AR-Builder-Upper:
Originally Posted By Ohio: Nah, we all know how to banish hot young female ghosts. |
Originally Posted By Det0nate: It takes a special kind of retard to argue the wrong side of second grade spelling.
What made you pick that particular quote for your sig-line?
--Swindle1984
What made you pick that particular quote for your sig-line?
--Swindle1984
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The North Pond Hermit was a bizzarre and creepy story. Many of you probably know it. He lived in the woods for decades nearby to our summer cottage, a very short distance away from where he was. I would go fishing nearby to him, not knowing he was there. Our cottage was on North Pond, one year in the early 90s he broke into our camp and took food. It's an entertaining read.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Thomas_Knight |
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Originally Posted By ohioktm125: That would be one hell of an excuse. Sorry I couldn't keep it up babe. A ghost chick crawled up my dickhole and made it so I couldn't get hard. These things happen.  |
Originally Posted By Det0nate: It takes a special kind of retard to argue the wrong side of second grade spelling.
What made you pick that particular quote for your sig-line?
--Swindle1984
What made you pick that particular quote for your sig-line?
--Swindle1984
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Originally Posted By kar98k:
where's the pic? where's the wife's 8th grade pic so we can compare? Originally Posted By kar98k:
Originally Posted By Beardog308:
My oldest daughter graduated high school in 2011. At her graduation she was itching to take off for grad night with her friends. A family friend took a quick pic and said she'd email it to me. When I opened the email a couple days later, I nearly shit myself. In the pic, I'm side by side with my kid; my arm around her. Off my daughter's right shoulder but five feet behind her is a smiling girl dressed from the 80's with 80's hair. The girl looked exactly like my daughter's mom, my deceased wife who passed in 2006. I showed the pic to my ex MIL who turned white. Once she composed herself, she dug up my wife's 8th grade graduation picture where she was wearing the exact same clothes. where's the wife's 8th grade pic so we can compare? |
If you want to piss off a conservative, tell him a lie. If you want to piss off a liberal, tell him the truth.
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Previous page one of you mentioned that you recently deceased dog was begging for food like it always did. Reminds me of a story.
I had a great cat, Cami. I brought her with me when I moved from Texas to California. She was my little buddy. I’d come home she’d wag her tail like a dog, would beg when I opened the turkey deli bag and at night she would sleep between my legs. After she passed, I felt for weeks her still between my legs. I could have sworn I also heard a sound that she used to make when I’d move in the middle of the night and she’d jump off to not get squished. We really do have souls. I miss that cat. |
If you want to piss off a conservative, tell him a lie. If you want to piss off a liberal, tell him the truth.
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Originally Posted By rabidus:
Previous page one of you mentioned that you recently deceased dog was begging for food like it always did. Reminds me of a story. I had a great cat, Cami. I brought her with me when I moved from Texas to California. She was my little buddy. I’d come home she’d wag her tail like a dog, would beg when I opened the turkey deli bag and at night she would sleep between my legs. After she passed, I felt for weeks her still between my legs. I could have sworn I also heard a sound that she used to make when I’d move in the middle of the night and she’d jump off to not get squished. We really do have souls. I miss that cat. 
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"These are great times we are living in men! We are jolly green Arfcommer's walking the earth. With guns!"
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Originally Posted By FDrifting:
Was taking out the trash the other night after a good rain. My mother in law left a large clear storage bin right side up on one of my lounge chairs and it was filled a good amount with water from the past few days. I dumped the trash and when I came back in I dumped it on its side to let all the water out and moved out of the way back towards the door so my shoes didn't get wet. Go back inside dick around cleaning up the mess from dinner in the kitchen then proceed to feed the pups. After they finish they want to go out so I put on their leashes and walk out the door and stopped dead in my tracks. A set of footprints tracked from the main puddle I dumped near the gate door to the slider in front of my kitchen where I was the past half hour. The footprints were bare as well which was weird. Also weird was my gate door. During raining season it's almost always swollen from the water so you kind of have to shoulder the fucker to get it to budge. It's loud enough where you can hear it upstairs, yet there was no sound. Didnt really know what to do but just look around and take my dogs out. Was pretty fucking weird. Well because you KNOW that IT is in there with you...someplace!
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"I never allow myself to dine until all of my troops have been fed." - Idi Amin Dada.
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OK. I just had something happen the other evening that I thought would be a good contribution. There's an abandoned house across the street diagonally from me. The backstory on this house...it's been abandoned ever since I lived on my street. Every so often, the owner, or someone who he has hired, shows up and does a bunch of work on it like they are trying to fix it up. But, they never finish. I keep the yard around that house trimmed so it doesn't look so bad and use it as a dog walk area. Well, anyway. I decided to walk the dog down to the church and back up the street. I usually walk right past our house and over to the house across the street so the dog can do her business. This evening, the wife decided to walk with me. So, we get to the house and we're fiddling around waiting for the dog to do her business. The cat has followed us to see what we're doing, as he often does. All at once, we hear this menacing, extremely low growl/rumble come from inside the house. Loud enough that it seems to reverberate through the house. We both freeze and look at each other. Just as I am about to ask the wife if she heard it, the cat freaking bolts out into the middle of the street, stops, and looks back at the house as if something is coming after him...ears folded back and eyes wide. I mean, it was freaking LOUD. Sounded very animal like. It gave me the exact same feeling that I got the night that my brother and law and I heard the Samsquanch up in the Mon National Forest. Wife said she was out of there. I went back to take a pic of the house. Sat there and thought about walking up on the porch, but something told me I better not. I know cats go in and out of the house through a downstairs window, but this was no cat. It sounded like a very large animal of some sort. Would like to know what it was, but too creeped out to investigate. Pic of the house, right after the event: 
Oh, by the way...the house number is 213. |
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Originally Posted By squashpup:
OK. I just had something happen the other evening that I thought would be a good contribution. There's an abandoned house across the street diagonally from me. The backstory on this house...it's been abandoned ever since I lived on my street. Every so often, the owner, or someone who he has hired, shows up and does a bunch of work on it like they are trying to fix it up. But, they never finish. I keep the yard around that house trimmed so it doesn't look so bad and use it as a dog walk area. Well, anyway. I decided to walk the dog down to the church and back up the street. I usually walk right past our house and over to the house across the street so the dog can do her business. This evening, the wife decided to walk with me. So, we get to the house and we're fiddling around waiting for the dog to do her business. The cat has followed us to see what we're doing, as he often does. All at once, we hear this menacing, extremely low growl/rumble come from inside the house. Loud enough that it seems to reverberate through the house. We both freeze and look at each other. Just as I am about to ask the wife if she heard it, the cat freaking bolts out into the middle of the street, stops, and looks back at the house as if something is coming after him...ears folded back and eyes wide. I mean, it was freaking LOUD. Sounded very animal like. It gave me the exact same feeling that I got the night that my brother and law and I heard the Samsquanch up in the Mon National Forest. Wife said she was out of there. I went back to take a pic of the house. Sat there and thought about walking up on the porch, but something told me I better not. I know cats go in and out of the house through a downstairs window, but this was no cat. It sounded like a very large animal of some sort. Would like to know what it was, but too creeped out to investigate. Pic of the house, right after the event: https://i.imgur.com/YVPrJst.jpg Oh, by the way...the house number is 213. |
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Here's one my dad shared from his childhood. This was late 50's or early 60's. Our family had a place out in Burleson, TX south of Ft. Worth... aptly named "The Burleson Place."
His grandmother (my Mam-mah) lived out there, and her grandkids would visit and stay regularly. I was lucky enough to know her well into my teens since she lived to be 101. She was never one to exaggerate, and my dad is still a straight shooter to this day. He'll tell you exactly what he thinks whether you want to hear it or not. No lies and no BS. Since he was the youngest of the kids in the family, they gave my dad the bedroom at the end of the upstairs hallway. Two bedrooms near the stairs and a lone room further down the hall... nothing strange about that! The bed he was sleeping in was pressed up against one wall. On the opposite wall was a crib that had never been moved out of the room and had been in the family for some time. He woke one morning to the familiar sounds and smells of Mam-mah cooking breakfast downstairs. He's always been a side sleeper and went to bed facing the wall on his side of the room. Rolling over in the morning he was struck by a strange sight in the early morning haze streaming into the room. Leaning over the crib stood an Indian squaw with a papoose strapped to her back. He remembers the keen "feeling" of her lifting a small baby from the crib as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. He immediately rolled over and squeezed his eyes tight pretending to be asleep because we all know a blanket makes the best ghost barrier. A few minutes later he slowly rolled back over to assess the situation and found nothing. Just the crib and dull gray of the morning sun. When he mentioned it to the rest of the family they all just kinda nodded and agreed that strange stuff happened in that room. This is the same house where the piano downstairs would play random keys at night (mice?). And chairs would randomly kick away from the living room table and slide across the floor (strong mice?). Dad refused to sleep in that bedroom again when they would visit. I never actually got a chance to see the place before the family sold it. 
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Originally Posted By kar98k:
where's the pic? where's the wife's 8th grade pic so we can compare? |
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Originally Posted By squashpup:
OK. I just had something happen the other evening that I thought would be a good contribution. There's an abandoned house across the street diagonally from me. The backstory on this house...it's been abandoned ever since I lived on my street. Every so often, the owner, or someone who he has hired, shows up and does a bunch of work on it like they are trying to fix it up. But, they never finish. I keep the yard around that house trimmed so it doesn't look so bad and use it as a dog walk area. Well, anyway. I decided to walk the dog down to the church and back up the street. I usually walk right past our house and over to the house across the street so the dog can do her business. This evening, the wife decided to walk with me. So, we get to the house and we're fiddling around waiting for the dog to do her business. The cat has followed us to see what we're doing, as he often does. All at once, we hear this menacing, extremely low growl/rumble come from inside the house. Loud enough that it seems to reverberate through the house. We both freeze and look at each other. Just as I am about to ask the wife if she heard it, the cat freaking bolts out into the middle of the street, stops, and looks back at the house as if something is coming after him...ears folded back and eyes wide. I mean, it was freaking LOUD. Sounded very animal like. It gave me the exact same feeling that I got the night that my brother and law and I heard the Samsquanch up in the Mon National Forest. Wife said she was out of there. I went back to take a pic of the house. Sat there and thought about walking up on the porch, but something told me I better not. I know cats go in and out of the house through a downstairs window, but this was no cat. It sounded like a very large animal of some sort. Would like to know what it was, but too creeped out to investigate. Pic of the house, right after the event: https://i.imgur.com/YVPrJst.jpg Oh, by the way...the house number is 213. |
"I yelled "HEY!! W.T.F!!!?? as I pointed my M-OU812 urban ass-salt axe handle menacingly at him, just daring him to come take my gummy bears!"
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I talk about Halloween on Halloween to my students and do a brief PowerPoint.
Second half of class we fell ghost stories. Well one of my students went that night to a Safe Halloween hosted by a local museum. I’ve spoken to the curater of the place and some houses are haunted. Anyway, one of my students was waking to the location where everyone gathers and on his way he decided to stop and take pictures of one of the buildings. It’s an old restaurant/hotel. Restaurant on the lower floor and hotel upstairs. I’ve always have had a peculiar feeling looking into this room. I also had a teacher friend who got to go in the place and she said she got the heebie jeebies upstairs. Well when the student showed me the pics he took. We looked at them. There was nobody around him and he was alone. He took a bunch of pics at the building. Didn’t see anything I circled the areas to look. You see 2 white entities and a dark one. One of the white ones starts to hide behind the window rail. Other moves to the left. Dark one takes a human silhouette. Shot 1 Attached File Shot 2 Attached File Shot 3 Attached File |
If you want to piss off a conservative, tell him a lie. If you want to piss off a liberal, tell him the truth.
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My wife's brother just pasted away a year ago of brain cancer. He lived 2 houses over from us. His wife died 3 years before him.
Her brother use to be a pretty decent guy. I found the lot for him and helped him build his home. We use to be pretty good friends. I'd known him for 30 years. But the last 6 years or so of his life. He was pretty F'ed up in the things he'd say. To the point I did not even want to be around him. In the end he hated me. Because 2 years ago I let him know how I felt about the crap he would say and the comments he'd make. I mean this guy was sick. He said one day the he wanted to screw a little mexican girl. Then just as he got a nut cut her throat. So as she died jerking he'd get off better. He'd laugh after saying it. I don't know about you guys. But you don't even joke about crap like that. Raping and killing a child. That's not funny in any way or form. I never forgot that. But anyways he'd go to church and fool alot people and I knew the things he'd talk about once he left church. He was a sick perverted man in my opinion. He said and did more. But he died and I truely believe he haunts that house. My dog won't even go into the yard. She's afraid of something. He was a hoarder. So I cleaned that damn house out. It's a stilt and the downstairs under the home was a mess. It too me two weeks to clean it and get rid of the junk. Talk about porn. He could have opened a porn store. You know what he complained/joked about as he was dying. Because of the drugs and treatment. Not being able to get a hard on so he could wack off. I do not know about you. But that would be the least of my concerns If I knew I was probably going to die. It would not surprise me on anything this man had done and no one knows about. You felt unclean in his presence. Like you were dirty by the time you got away from him. Anyways right after pressure washing it. I'm standing there and bam. I had a rake, shovel and push broom behind me leaning against the wall. Something behind fell and it echoed because it was under a concrete home. Looked behind and nothing fell. It was loud to and I was 10ft from it. I walked all around the house and nothing was there that could have fell. Plus I know it came from behind me. Upstairs I accidentally broke a little knob on the CHINA cabinet. I put it back and balanced it there. The china cabinet was against the wall a hugh glass top dining table then kitchen counter top. About 10 ft. Wife was in kitchen on evening and that knob flew up and over the hugh glass top table and landed 10ft from cabinet. She told me there was no way that could have done that. That knob was just resting there. No tension on it what so ever. Now my wife is an accountant and deals in facts. This kinda freaked her a little. Because she even knew that it was impossible for that knob to do that on it's own. The neighbor that lives right next door to her brother's house . Was sitting out on his deck one evening. There were 2 computer chairs under home. Now these chairs had problems with their wheels. To say they did not roll good, well is an understatement. My neighbor said one of those chair rolled with no problem a good 20ft towards the dock and stopped right where a table use to be. He said Mack I swear there was ABSOLUTELY no wind or nothing. That the chair moved. I asked him what he did. He said he threw his cigarette down and hauled butt into his home. My wife's granddaughter and her boyfriend. Said while cleaning the down stairs room. That it seemed everytime they'd walk out and if they closed the door. The deadbolt would lock on the door. They said they had to put a prop to keep the door from closing and locking on them. Wife's brother did not like my wife's granddaughter or anybody. He became obsessed that everyone was trying to steal from him. Even me and my wife. When we were the ones who loaned him the money to finish building his home. You can feel something at that house. Like an uneasy feeling. I sense a displeasure towards me. I guess because he ABSOLUTELY hated me in the end for confronting him about things. I look at it often with nvgs and thermals from my deck and have never seen anything. But I believe he's still there. We inherited the house he had no children. Probably a good thing right there. He'd been of those pos that more than likely would have molested them. Maybe he knew this and that's why he never had any. But I do not believe he had a good soul. Not after hearing all the bad things that came out of his mouth. We did not speak the last 2 year of his life. Other than saying hello. I forbid him from coming to my home for a year because of his garbage. 2 years before he died. But gave in the Christmas before he he died. I did it for my wife. He died the following Christmas. I miss the old brother. The one that I was friends with. But the one that I knew the last several years of his life. Was not the same person. He had brain cancer for a little more than a year. So he was not like he was because of that. Maybe it was because it had high blood sugar and never controlled it. It would get over 500 plus. Who knows, maybe he was possessed. But he changed when he changed locations he worked with his job. That area was inadated with street whores and such. Hell maybe he caught syphilis and it fucked him up who knows. But he's still at that house he built. |
RANGER AIRBORNE, FIREMEDIC, NRA, OATH KEEPER
In the Government's/Elitist eye's I'm a Terrorist for believing in the Constitution and taking an oath to defend it instead of destroying it
In the Government's/Elitist eye's I'm a Terrorist for believing in the Constitution and taking an oath to defend it instead of destroying it
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OK. I finally finished reading this thread in it's entirety. I'll have to read it again, as I can't remember all the stories. I started reading this in April of 2017.
Anyway, I've been thinking of starting a podcast about creepy happenings, maybe at least a blog. I'd like to use some of the accounts here on the creepy thread (with permission, of course). Mainly this would be me organizing a collection of accounts and stories, and giving my thoughts on them, in a more structured format. I've been collecting firsthand/secondhand accounts for year via just talking to people. What does the hive think? I wouldn't use anyone's story without permission (I will PM folks I'm interested in featuring). I thought about publishing a book of stories, but I don't want to make something that folks will have to pay for to enjoy. I'm leaning towards a Blog type site with podcast type sessions or videos. Also, no freeloading. Some of my happenings will be posted soon. |
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Many of my creepy memories revolve around sleeping (night terrors, sleep paralysis, sleep walking, etc). I'll start from the beginning. As far back as I can remember I had a recurring dream that never made sense to me. This would happen several nights a week, from about age 5/6 to age 10. The "dream" was simple. I was surrounded 360 degrees by what looked like the black/white static of an old television. The noise associated with static was present as well, but very loud. All I could see and hear was static. Odd thing was that I could feel it as well. It felt like I was in a sandstorm. I'd often wake up crying. I remember my dad coming in and comforting me (he was usually up at 3am getting ready for work, so he would hear me). Not scary in the grand scheme, but I still remember being plagued by it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Next one is sleepwalking. I was probably 14. I had a dream I was sitting on a bench in our front patio barefoot. It was night, but in the suburbs of Los Angeles, so visibility was pretty good. The darkness was broken by all the porch lights and streetlights of the neighborhood. At the end of our block was a busy street that was basically daylight lit (24 hour traffic, lots of businesses and lights). So I'm sitting on the bench and for some reason feel the urge to walk across the grass to the sidewalk then proceed northbound towards the busy main street. The sidewalk was covered with about 15 yards of darkness, then 15 yards of streetlight, then darkness, and so on. As I'm walking I can hear the patter of my feet slapping the concrete, but as I'm listening I can hear a set of shoes matching my pace behind me. I employ the classic method of walking, stopping, and listening to see if the step continue if I stop. They do. I stop, hear one or 2 more steps, then silence. I quickly turn to try and catch a glimpse of my pursuer, nothing, just shadows. I begin walking again, the footsteps match my pace. I increase speed gradually up to a dead spring, the footsteps continue to keep pace. I run as hard as I can towards the busy street. Upon reaching the street the footsteps behind me stop. I'm standing next to the old payphone on the corner, looking back down my street, still nothing. I realize that, at some point, I have to get back home. Back through the shadows. I decide that the best solutions is a dead sprint all the way back and to make for the front door when I get home (hopefully it's not locked). I take off, as fast and as hard as I could. About halfway there, I hear something behind me, not regular footsteps like before, something with 4 legs. It sounded like a dog I could here it's claws lightly scrape the concrete as it ran behind me. I didn't stop, I didn't look back, I just ran. The moment I hit the front door, I woke up in my bed. Obviously shaken by the dream, I got up and left my room. My grandpa and dad were watching something on TV in the living room. I figured I'd go hang out with them to calm my nerves. When I walked in my grandpa looked at me and asked "Where did you go?". I responded "Nowhere. I've been asleep in my room". My dad chimed in "Well about half an hour ago you walked right through here and out the front door. I figured you were going to the garage, but I never heard it open. About 10 min later you walked back in and went to your room." I had no explanation, and they seemed to drop the subject when I had no answers. I never told them about the dream. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I've got three more sleep happenings to share, but I'm at work, so I'll post this and start working on the next one. |
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Creepy house, continued.
Saturday I was home alone with the dog and cat. They're peacefully sleeping as I sat reading when I heard the unmistakable noise directly above of a heavy footstep in our bedroom. Just once - right where the floor creaks up there. We have carpet in the bedroom so it was NOT the hard hollow sound of a foot on wood, but the creeeeaaaaaak of applied pressure and then letting off. Both animals were sleeping and didn't wake. I grab the closest pistol and sit for a few minutes listening. Nothing made any further noises for about five minutes. Dog and I go for a walk upstairs, find nothing, no signs of anything. ETA: Fixed a critical typo. |
"Her nipples are probably about as sensitive as George Patton during WW2." -Thor
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Originally Posted By DangerJ:
Creepy house, continued. Saturday I was home alone with the dog and cat. They're peacefully sleeping as I sat reading when I heard the unmistakable noise directly above of a heavy footstep in our bedroom. Just once - right where the floor creaks up there. We have carpet in the bedroom so it was the hard hollow sound of a foot on wood, but the creeeeaaaaaak of applied pressure and then letting off. Both animals were sleeping and didn't wake. I grab the closest pistol and sit for a few minutes listening. Nothing made any further noises for about five minutes. Dog and I go for a walk upstairs, find nothing, no signs of anything. 
I heard 2 voices talking in our guest bedroom one night. My Beretta in 22 short was in my pocket. I flew in that room with 6 rounds of 27gr "Get Sum!". Nothing, thank God.
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Originally Posted By fmj_shooter:
I hate it when shit like that happens. My dogs never pick up on it
I heard 2 voices talking in our guest bedroom one night. My Beretta in 22 short was in my pocket. I flew in that room with 6 rounds of 27gr "Get Sum!". Nothing, thank God. The last time there was a noise the dog was freaked out pretty bad. She slept through all of this. With Halloween around the corner I think it's time for me to step things up and out-spook the spooks. |
"Her nipples are probably about as sensitive as George Patton during WW2." -Thor
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I am the third of five sons. I was the only one who suffered from extremely vivid nightmares and terrors, so bad at one point that I implored my mother to kill me rather than let me sleep again. often the same terrible dream would be repeated time after time.
I also remember sometimes seeing a figure in the bedroom door watching me as I pretended to be asleep. it was easy to scare me when I was a child. after reading so many accounts in this thread, I wonder sometimes if what I thought I dreamed, or saw in the doorway, was somehow something only I could see. I know my mother believed in visitations and visions. maybe I got some of that from her, I am a lot like her in other ways. I am older now & the dark does not bother me. I am comfortable with no lights on & often go outside in the night to enjoy the night air. not that it would help with haunts, but I usually have a smokestick with me then. since I am writing about it,one of the terrible dreams seemed to have ended one night. I had the recurring nightmare of being in a demolished smokey town, all rubble and ruin, & I am pursued by a 9 foot tall frankenstein type monster who moved slowly but never stopped. I would wake up just as his hands got me, taken by fear. until the night I had enough. in my dream I climbed some rubble just around the corner of a building, holding a chunk of rebar. I can still see it. it was 5/8s, or 3/4, & about 40 inches long. when he came around the corner I beat his head off with it. never had that dream again. felt like G Gordon Liddy & his rat story. one of my dreams as a boy was of killing a woman, always in the same living room, I didn`t recognize where, but always with a double barrel shotgun. again I would wake up scared and rattled wondering how I could have done that with so little restraint. sorry for the wall of text. we gotta keep this thread going. ETA there was never a double barrel shotgun in the house when I was a boy. all the guns were bolt actions. |
"The sum of human intelligence remains a constant. The population, however, continues to increase."
"it is sad that governments are chiefed by the double-tongues." Ten Bears
"it is sad that governments are chiefed by the double-tongues." Ten Bears
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I do not know if this is creepy. I had a dream or maybe a vision. It was basically of being on the ground with a sensation of a crushing feeling on my chest and having a hard time breathing. There were so many bright lights I could not see, but I could hear all kinds of voices. They were yelling as if they were in a hurry to do something. I could feel every sensation, everything. I knew who was on the ground. It was my only brother. I was seeing and feeling everything through him. I woke up in tears and sit straight up in my bed, my wife asked what was awrong. I told her I just had a dream my brother died. She said it was just a dream go back to sleep. I couldn't and it was more than just a dream. It was too real. I could feel everything and hear every sound and smell everything. I know what a dream is. This was much much more I never told anyone about that dream. Christmas rolled around. I noticed that night my brother seemed to look different. Like his skin was off color to me. A lighter color, sorta like a dull glow. He color was just off to me. When we got ready to leave my mom's home. I stopped and went to his truck and gave him another hug and told him I loved him. 3 months later he died in a single vehicle accident. He was ejected through wind shield and his truck rolled on to his chest. They said he was still alive when they got there. Someone ran him off the road and left him. He was my only brother. I remember when he was born. If I ever find out who killed him. They will wish they were never born by the time I'm done with them. I saw this happen before it occured. I felt everything he did. I may have experienced him die. When it came to a rush of breath leaving him. That's when I woke because I could no longer breath. I can not FORGET this. |
RANGER AIRBORNE, FIREMEDIC, NRA, OATH KEEPER
In the Government's/Elitist eye's I'm a Terrorist for believing in the Constitution and taking an oath to defend it not only against foreign but Domestic AGGRESSION ALSO. DEMOCRATIC SOCIALIST PARTY
In the Government's/Elitist eye's I'm a Terrorist for believing in the Constitution and taking an oath to defend it not only against foreign but Domestic AGGRESSION ALSO. DEMOCRATIC SOCIALIST PARTY
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Originally Posted By firemedic2000:
I do not know if this is creepy. I had a dream or maybe a vision. It was basically of being on the ground with a sensation of a crushing feeling on my chest and having a hard time breathing. There were so many bright lights I could not see, but I could hear all kinds of voices. They were yelling as if they were in a hurry to do something. I could feel every sensation, everything. I knew who was on the ground. It was my only brother. I was seeing and feeling everything through him. I woke up in tears and sit straight up in my bed, my wife asked what was awrong. I told her I just had a dream my brother died. She said it was just a dream go back to sleep. I couldn't and it was more than just a dream. It was too real. I could feel everything and hear every sound and smell everything. I know what a dream is. This was much much more I never told anyone about that dream. Christmas rolled around. I noticed that night my brother seemed to look different. Like his skin was off color to me. A lighter color, sorta like a dull glow. He color was just off to me. When we got ready to leave my mom's home. I stopped and went to his truck and gave him another hug and told him I loved him. 3 months later he died in a single vehicle accident. He was ejected through wind shield and his truck rolled on to his chest. They said he was still alive when they got there. Someone ran him off the road and left him. He was my only brother. I remember when he was born. If I ever find out who killed him. They will wish they were never born by the time I'm done with them. I saw this happen before it occured. I felt everything he did. I may have experienced him die. When it came to a rush of breath leaving him. That's when I woke because I could no longer breath. I can not FORGET this. |
Deo Vindice!
“Any one who has the power to make you believe absurdities has the power to make you commit injustices.”
-Voltaire
“Any one who has the power to make you believe absurdities has the power to make you commit injustices.”
-Voltaire
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Originally Posted By firemedic2000:
I do not know if this is creepy. I had a dream or maybe a vision. It was basically of being on the ground with a sensation of a crushing feeling on my chest and having a hard time breathing. There were so many bright lights I could not see, but I could hear all kinds of voices. They were yelling as if they were in a hurry to do something. I could feel every sensation, everything. I knew who was on the ground. It was my only brother. I was seeing and feeling everything through him. I woke up in tears and sit straight up in my bed, my wife asked what was awrong. I told her I just had a dream my brother died. She said it was just a dream go back to sleep. I couldn't and it was more than just a dream. It was too real. I could feel everything and hear every sound and smell everything. I know what a dream is. This was much much more I never told anyone about that dream. Christmas rolled around. I noticed that night my brother seemed to look different. Like his skin was off color to me. A lighter color, sorta like a dull glow. He color was just off to me. When we got ready to leave my mom's home. I stopped and went to his truck and gave him another hug and told him I loved him. 3 months later he died in a single vehicle accident. He was ejected through wind shield and his truck rolled on to his chest. They said he was still alive when they got there. Someone ran him off the road and left him. He was my only brother. I remember when he was born. If I ever find out who killed him. They will wish they were never born by the time I'm done with them. I saw this happen before it occured. I felt everything he did. I may have experienced him die. When it came to a rush of breath leaving him. That's when I woke because I could no longer breath. I can not FORGET this. |
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Originally Posted By firemedic2000:
I do not know if this is creepy. I had a dream or maybe a vision. It was basically of being on the ground with a sensation of a crushing feeling on my chest and having a hard time breathing. There were so many bright lights I could not see, but I could hear all kinds of voices. They were yelling as if they were in a hurry to do something. I could feel every sensation, everything. I knew who was on the ground. It was my only brother. I was seeing and feeling everything through him. I woke up in tears and sit straight up in my bed, my wife asked what was awrong. I told her I just had a dream my brother died. She said it was just a dream go back to sleep. I couldn't and it was more than just a dream. It was too real. I could feel everything and hear every sound and smell everything. I know what a dream is. This was much much more I never told anyone about that dream. Christmas rolled around. I noticed that night my brother seemed to look different. Like his skin was off color to me. A lighter color, sorta like a dull glow. He color was just off to me. When we got ready to leave my mom's home. I stopped and went to his truck and gave him another hug and told him I loved him. 3 months later he died in a single vehicle accident. He was ejected through wind shield and his truck rolled on to his chest. They said he was still alive when they got there. Someone ran him off the road and left him. He was my only brother. I remember when he was born. If I ever find out who killed him. They will wish they were never born by the time I'm done with them. I saw this happen before it occured. I felt everything he did. I may have experienced him die. When it came to a rush of breath leaving him. That's when I woke because I could no longer breath. I can not FORGET this. |
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Thanks guys. It blew me away. Especially when it happened exactly like the vision or dream. I can still remember everything about what I felt in that dream. It was so real. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to go through. I'd ran calls exactly like the way he'd died and seen what the results were. Worked the people the vehicles were on. He'd just told his wife he was leaving her. She was a piece of trash. She made a commit that he'd be dead before that happened. Plus the fact if he died she got 650,000.00 in life ins. She was so paranoid for some reason after my brother died. That I did my own investigation. Because of her actions and statements made by her and her son right my brother death. That she thought myself and my brother in law was watching her from the woods around her home. Number one I worked to much and my brother in law lives on the east coast of florida and works for the Sheriff's office there as a pilot. Plus we'd never said anything bad to her or given her a reason to act like that. She was acting guilty on her own accord and was afraid of us for some reason. When we'd said nothing to her. I believe the comment her son made to me tripped her out. Her son made a comment the day after after my brother died. He said he was not supposed to have died. The moment she discovered he was with me. She flipped and got him immediately away from me. The sheriff's office would not investigate. Even though there was 2 witness that said they heard another vehicle hit my brother's truck, stop and then speed off. It was not a big enough deal. The SHERIFF in that county only goes after high profile crimes that puts him in the NEWS. He has political ambitions. But his wife collected 650k but my sister and I were the ones that paid out of our pockets to bury him and buy the headstone. That bitch did not spend one dime. Would not even send anything to bury him in. We bought him cloths also. I later discovered that the man she was married to before my brother also died. He was a diabetic. Some how he was not getting his insulin. This man drown in a bath tub while bathing. I wonder why he did not get his insulin. When his exwife told me this below. I met his previous wife and she told me he was anal about taking his shots. But for some reason lapsed because of low blood sugar conveniently in a bath tub and drowned. Oh yeah forgot. Exwife said he did not take baths in tubs. That he always showered. She said the 10 years they were married he never took a bath in a tub. My brother's wife found out that when she went to collect his life insurance. He'd had changed his policy and made his kids from this previous marriage beneficiaries to his ins. She APPARENTLY was not aware of this. The kids mother said she went nuts on them demanding the money from them. That it was hers. He had no right to change the policy. ( this was her ex husbands wife and kids) That he was not in his right mind. They had to get a restraining order to keep her away from the kids and her. My brother's wife now knows I know exactly what she did. That I know she did something to her ex husband to and She is terrified of me. I've not seen or spoken to her since. She's gotten away with two murders. But hey it's not a big enough case/important people, racial ect.... to put it in the NEWS. So who cares. It's not white on black crime. Plus it requires they investigate a bunch of nobodies. Who cares. I found all this out after my brother was killed. |
RANGER AIRBORNE, FIREMEDIC, NRA, OATH KEEPER
In the Government's/Elitist eye's I'm a Terrorist for believing in the Constitution and taking an oath to defend it not only against foreign but Domestic AGGRESSION ALSO. DEMOCRATIC SOCIALIST PARTY
In the Government's/Elitist eye's I'm a Terrorist for believing in the Constitution and taking an oath to defend it not only against foreign but Domestic AGGRESSION ALSO. DEMOCRATIC SOCIALIST PARTY
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Originally Posted By firemedic2000:
I do not know if this is creepy. I had a dream or maybe a vision. It was basically of being on the ground with a sensation of a crushing feeling on my chest and having a hard time breathing. There were so many bright lights I could not see, but I could hear all kinds of voices. They were yelling as if they were in a hurry to do something. I could feel every sensation, everything. I knew who was on the ground. It was my only brother. I was seeing and feeling everything through him. I woke up in tears and sit straight up in my bed, my wife asked what was awrong. I told her I just had a dream my brother died. She said it was just a dream go back to sleep. I couldn't and it was more than just a dream. It was too real. I could feel everything and hear every sound and smell everything. I know what a dream is. This was much much more I never told anyone about that dream. Christmas rolled around. I noticed that night my brother seemed to look different. Like his skin was off color to me. A lighter color, sorta like a dull glow. He color was just off to me. When we got ready to leave my mom's home. I stopped and went to his truck and gave him another hug and told him I loved him. 3 months later he died in a single vehicle accident. He was ejected through wind shield and his truck rolled on to his chest. They said he was still alive when they got there. Someone ran him off the road and left him. He was my only brother. I remember when he was born. If I ever find out who killed him. They will wish they were never born by the time I'm done with them. I saw this happen before it occured. I felt everything he did. I may have experienced him die. When it came to a rush of breath leaving him. That's when I woke because I could no longer breath. I can not FORGET this. |
"Y'all have yourselves a pleasant gun carrying day." - Whatever the hell that guy's screen name was.
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This is interesting and creepy - a story related by David Paulides about the strange disappearance of a 51 year old man named Mitchell Dale Stehling, in Mesa Verde National Park, in 2013.
You don't have to watch all of this - he covers the story in the first seven or eight minutes. This creeped me out, about "the voice" which the reporter heard, that searchers had heard in the same spot the previous day. Kind of like he walked into another dimension...  Failed To Load Title |
"Y'all have yourselves a pleasant gun carrying day." - Whatever the hell that guy's screen name was.
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Originally Posted By DangerJ:
Creepy house, continued. Saturday I was home alone with the dog and cat. They're peacefully sleeping as I sat reading when I heard the unmistakable noise directly above of a heavy footstep in our bedroom. Just once - right where the floor creaks up there. We have carpet in the bedroom so it was NOT the hard hollow sound of a foot on wood, but the creeeeaaaaaak of applied pressure and then letting off. Both animals were sleeping and didn't wake. I grab the closest pistol and sit for a few minutes listening. Nothing made any further noises for about five minutes. Dog and I go for a walk upstairs, find nothing, no signs of anything. ETA: Fixed a critical typo. The thought of someone or something getting past an animal with senses so much more acute than our's is disturbing. What bothers me more is when the dog starts doing a frantic Cerberus bark. Not the "hey, jerk squirrel," or "hey, other dog" bark, but a deeper bark saying, "go back to hell!" Even the "there's someone at the door" bark doesn't have this level of urgent, intimidating hostility. There is no calling the dog back when this is underway. The dog is just too fixated on whatever it is. I've gone outside and investigated, but never saw anyone or anything (or tracks/signs of disturbance). |
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Originally Posted By 6winchester2:
This is interesting and creepy - a story related by David Paulides about the strange disappearance of a 51 year old man named Mitchell Dale Stehling, in Mesa Verde National Park, in 2013. You don't have to watch all of this - he covers the story in the first seven or eight minutes. This creeped me out, about "the voice" which the reporter heard, that searchers had heard in the same spot the previous day. Kind of like he walked into another dimension...  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIxjfqecaRY |
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Originally Posted By fmj_shooter:
Creepy, if true. Ive heard clear voices out in the bush with no one around. Originally Posted By fmj_shooter:
Originally Posted By 6winchester2:
This is interesting and creepy - a story related by David Paulides about the strange disappearance of a 51 year old man named Mitchell Dale Stehling, in Mesa Verde National Park, in 2013. You don't have to watch all of this - he covers the story in the first seven or eight minutes. This creeped me out, about "the voice" which the reporter heard, that searchers had heard in the same spot the previous day. Kind of like he walked into another dimension... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIxjfqecaRYThe story about the disappearance of this man is true - I was able to search up a few news articles about it. As to the part about the voices, we have to take Dave's word for it on that I guess. |
"Y'all have yourselves a pleasant gun carrying day." - Whatever the hell that guy's screen name was.
No morphine for you; NorCal callsign: Patch.
Joined:
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EE: 100% (8)
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Originally Posted By DangerJ:
We moved into a new (to us, it's 80 years old) house in June and strange shit's been going on. I'll skip to the big two. I was on the main level, wife had just gone upstairs to our bedroom. I hear BOOM! like she dropped a box full of books on the floor. Go upstairs to see what's up and she's looking at me, "Why did you just slam a door?" She thought I did it, I thought she did it, and both our animals were in the room with her. Nothing fell over, nothing fell on the house, couldn't find the source of this thing that caused the whole house to shake. That kept us up for a while. And last night, right as we are falling asleep, a large heavy stool we have at the kitchen counter falls flat over and makes a huge noise. Again both animals upstairs with us. The boom noise, the stool falling over, and the kitchen lights flickering (yeah, that's a thing) all are in the same point in the house. Wife is 7 months pregnant. My brother thinks something wants the baby. What part of town? |
No morphine for you; NorCal callsign: Patch.
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Originally Posted By DangerJ:
Beaverdale! Originally Posted By DangerJ:
Originally Posted By timthemedic:
@dangerj What part of town? That neighborhood is old enough that I bet a lot of people have died in those houses. Wouldn't be surprised if some set up permanent shop. |
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Originally Posted By AR-Builder-Upper:
https://i.imgur.com/Qpkfz2q.gif |
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Originally Posted By WildBoar:
I would so love to go to an alleged haunted house and fuck with paranormal investigators and do stuff like that. Originally Posted By WildBoar:
Originally Posted By AR-Builder-Upper:
https://i.imgur.com/Qpkfz2q.gif 
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"I assure you, Mr. Mowry, that I am quite serious when I ask you to oblige by walking bow-legged."
Proud foster parent. Proud of my adopted kids.
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I homeschool my four kids. A while back we had two foster kids, sisters, with us for 2.5 months. One was five and the other was four. The four-year-old was .. well, there's no other word for it, creepy. She would just stop and randomly stare at the same spot for up to two hours straight and nod her head/shake her head and talk. She would also wake us up at night talking and we'd go in to check on her and she'd be out of bed, sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling or wall, and carrying on a conversation. Neither sister had any significant behavioral issues and they were both sharp as tacks. I chalked it up to an overactive imagination.
I took my kids out to the Marietta Confederate Cemetery in Georgia as part of a history field trip (again, I homeschool) and the sisters tagged along. They had ZERO idea what we were there for or what it was, even MY kids. I hadn't told them anything about where we were headed, just that we'd learn some valuable history. We barely got inside the gate and that little girl stops, looks around and says, "How come the soldiers don't have guns with them?" One of my kids said, "What soldiers? Where?" The little girl, I swear to God, acted like we were all pulling her leg and pointed all around. "All of them! Right there." I said, "How many?" She just shrugged and kept pointing all around us. At one point she likened them to G.I. Joes --- my son has a big collection of them. I didn't want to freak my kids out (or myself any further) so I started to talk about the war. A little while later she pointed to my son Elijah, who is a very black child we adopted from Africa and said, "Oh. You go in there with them." She pointed to another section we hadn't gotten to yet and that I wasn't even aware of. It was the slave lot. I was very happy when they went back home a couple of days later. I think I had gooseflesh for days after that. Hell, I have gooseflesh right now remembering it. |
Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must undergo the fatigue of supporting it. - Thomas Paine
Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves. - Abraham Lincoln
Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves. - Abraham Lincoln
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Originally Posted By iteotwawki:
I homeschool my four kids. A while back we had two foster kids, sisters, with us for 2.5 months. One was five and the other was four. The four-year-old was .. well, there's no other word for it, creepy. She would just stop and randomly stare at the same spot for up to two hours straight and nod her head/shake her head and talk. She would also wake us up at night talking and we'd go in to check on her and she'd be out of bed, sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling or wall, and carrying on a conversation. Neither sister had any significant behavioral issues and they were both sharp as tacks. I chalked it up to an overactive imagination. -SNIP- So we moved the little one into the guest room. In hindsight, IDK why we made the little one move and not the older one. Anyway, the little one would have these screaming fits in the night. We'd go in to check on her and she'd say that someone was in the room with her. This happened every night until CYFD came and took the kids back to their mom. Generally, one would and should write this off as nightmares and traumatized kid stuff. Odd thing is, that guest room has a reputation among my friends and family. We bought the place after the original owner died. We moved in about 6 months after his passing. Nothing special, old age, his wife was already gone (died in hospital), kids sold me the place. Strange things are known to happen in the house. Much of it focuses around that guest room. When we moved in the place still have much of the old guys stuff. His kids came in and took everything of value, and left the junk there (his clothes, his wife's wedding dress, furniture, the bed he died in, etc). That guest room was the only empty room, except for a chair and many shelves on 3 walls, the length of the walls, about 6 shelves floor to ceiling on each wall. As with many old folks homes, you can tell where they spent most of their time based on the degree of tobacco smoke stains on the ceiling and walls. He spent a great deal on time in this room, or his wife did. I found out later that an employee of mine was married to the dead guy's niece. She told me that room was where the old lady kept her doll collection. Hundreds of dolls, floor to ceiling. A friend from college had moved back in with his parents about an hour away. He would come over every weekend to visit and spend Friday and Saturday night in that room. He had been doing this for a few months when he finally approached me and questioned why I was coming into the room at night. I said my wife and I did no such thing. He said that if it wasn't us, then something very wrong is happening. He said every night he would wake up to the door opening, but he would stay under the covers and pretend to still be sleeping. Door would open, footsteps going in, footsteps going out, he's shrug it off and go back to sleep. Door would be open every morning when he woke. I guess he figured we were just being weirdos. I told him that the house is old and the doors don't latch sometimes and doors can pop open with temperature and pressure shifts. After this discussion, he began putting his bag/backpack up against the door to keep it from swinging open. Every morning he would find it leaning against the wall across the room. He started sleeping in the living room on the recliner and eventually got his own place nearby. He refuses to go back in that room. My experience in that room is mixed. When I would go and nap or spend the night in there, I'd have night terrors, but that's common with me. I've also heard voices in there talking, causing me to run in armed looking for an intruder. My grandma wanted to get rid of my grandpa for a few weeks one time, so she flew him out from California to help us "work on the house". In reality grandpa would hang out at the house while I was at work (i worked half days the whole time he was out). He'd put on a John Wayne movie and start painting the walls in the room he was watching TV in. Luckily for me, every room has at least a 36" flat screen.  . I'd get home about 1230 with some lunch and beer and we'd spend the remainder of the day living the good life, drinking and watching John Wayne and Chuck Norris movies until about 1 am. After about a week, I come home and he walks out of that guest room, he was painting it. He says we need to go to the hardware store for more rollers. So we take off, get rollers, I take him to go grab some lunch in town. He finally tells me, "Sorry but I had to get out of that damned house. You've got a ghost in there." He tells me that day, he was working in the guest room, and he could hear my booting knocking against the floor as I approached, he would step out to greet me, only to find I wasn't home. He said it happened three or four times before it actually was me. We had whiskey that night.
My brother said he loves that room, says he sleeps like the dead in there. My sisters have all stayed in there once, won't go back in. I don't have many house guests these days.
There are other haunting things that have happened, but for another time. |
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Originally Posted By fmj_shooter: We had a couple foster kids last year, a 3-4 year old and an 8 year old, sisters. They shared a room. We have 2 guest rooms in the house, since we have no children of our own. The first room is the one we did up for kids, the second one is just a plain old guest room. Well at some point my wife caught the older of the 2 kids choking her little sister. Like full on had her pinned to the ground strangling her. She separated them and called called their case worker. The case worker says its common for kids with past trauma, just keep an eye on them and make them sleep in separate rooms. So we moved the little one into the guest room. In hindsight, IDK why we made the little one move and not the older one. Anyway, the little one would have these screaming fits in the night. We'd go in to check on her and she'd say that someone was in the room with her. This happened every night until CYFD came and took the kids back to their mom. Generally, one would and should write this off as nightmares and traumatized kid stuff. Odd thing is, that guest room has a reputation among my friends and family. We bought the place after the original owner died. We moved in about 6 months after his passing. Nothing special, old age, his wife was already gone (died in hospital), kids sold me the place. Strange things are known to happen in the house. Much of it focuses around that guest room. When we moved in the place still have much of the old guys stuff. His kids came in and took everything of value, and left the junk there (his clothes, his wife's wedding dress, furniture, the bed he died in, etc). That guest room was the only empty room, except for a chair and many shelves on 3 walls, the length of the walls, about 6 shelves floor to ceiling on each wall. As with many old folks homes, you can tell where they spent most of their time based on the degree of tobacco smoke stains on the ceiling and walls. He spent a great deal on time in this room, or his wife did. I found out later that an employee of mine was married to the dead guy's niece. She told me that room was where the old lady kept her doll collection. Hundreds of dolls, floor to ceiling. A friend from college had moved back in with his parents about an hour away. He would come over every weekend to visit and spend Friday and Saturday night in that room. He had been doing this for a few months when he finally approached me and questioned why I was coming into the room at night. I said my wife and I did no such thing. He said that if it wasn't us, then something very wrong is happening. He said every night he would wake up to the door opening, but he would stay under the covers and pretend to still be sleeping. Door would open, footsteps going in, footsteps going out, he's shrug it off and go back to sleep. Door would be open every morning when he woke. I guess he figured we were just being weirdos. I told him that the house is old and the doors don't latch sometimes and doors can pop open with temperature and pressure shifts. After this discussion, he began putting his bag/backpack up against the door to keep it from swinging open. Every morning he would find it leaning against the wall across the room. He started sleeping in the living room on the recliner and eventually got his own place nearby. He refuses to go back in that room. My experience in that room is mixed. When I would go and nap or spend the night in there, I'd have night terrors, but that's common with me. I've also heard voices in there talking, causing me to run in armed looking for an intruder. My grandma wanted to get rid of my grandpa for a few weeks one time, so she flew him out from California to help us "work on the house". In reality grandpa would hang out at the house while I was at work (i worked half days the whole time he was out). He'd put on a John Wayne movie and start painting the walls in the room he was watching TV in. Luckily for me, every room has at least a 36" flat screen. . I'd get home about 1230 with some lunch and beer and we'd spend the remainder of the day living the good life, drinking and watching John Wayne and Chuck Norris movies until about 1 am. After about a week, I come home and he walks out of that guest room, he was painting it. He says we need to go to the hardware store for more rollers. So we take off, get rollers, I take him to go grab some lunch in town. He finally tells me, "Sorry but I had to get out of that damned house. You've got a ghost in there." He tells me that day, he was working in the guest room, and he could hear my booting knocking against the floor as I approached, he would step out to greet me, only to find I wasn't home. He said it happened three or four times before it actually was me. We had whiskey that night.
My brother said he loves that room, says he sleeps like the dead in there. My sisters have all stayed in there once, won't go back in. I don't have many house guests these days.
There are other haunting things that have happened, but for another time. |
What is best in life? To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women!
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Okay...just had something happen a bit ago that freaked me out. I posted earlier about the creepy house on my street: https://www.ar15.com/forums/General/It-s-time-for-another-CREEPY-thread-/5-1227431/?page=121#i74414716 Well, yesterday evening, I walked the dog again. Keep in mind, I always follow the same route, always ending up back at the abandoned creepy house to let the dog do her business. Now, in the evenings, it is not common for the wife to go with us, but yesterday, she felt like having a walk with us, so we went. And before we came back in the house, we ended up at the creepy house. Ever since the last visit, the wife swears that she's had an uneasy feeling. She even said she awoke one night, thinking someone was hovering over her next to the bed. Which makes her actions yesterday evening all the more puzzling, because when we got there, she walked right up on the porch and looked in the windows. I told her the ghosts were gonna get her, etc. and gave her a hard time about it. Well, she normally gets up a few minutes earlier than I do, but this morning, she comes back upstairs and says, "Will you come down here? You have to see something." When we got downstairs, she asks me if I had gotten up during the night. I had, but hadn't gone downstairs. And, I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary when I was up. So, she walks to the bathroom. She has a small basket of hair care products that she keeps by the door. One bottle of hairspray was out of the basket, lying in the middle of the floor. The second, a pump sprayer, was on the rug. The sprayer top had been removed and all of the liquid inside had poured onto the rug. Her deodorant is out on the counter, and it has liquid makeup smeared all over it. And then she drags me into the kitchen, where two drawers and a cabinet door are all open. She hadn't even thought of her little escapade up on the front porch of the house until I reminded her. Now she's freaked out. To be honest, I am a little bit too... |