Post Your Creepy True Stories

Would you break that into paragraphs so I can actually read it?

OP where do you live? Can't you go back and wait on the street or something to see if that same limo returns?

I lived in a modern house which I shared with some friends and a whole series of weird stuff started happening. First there was loud knocking on the walls and massive crashes in the night that sounded like someone smashed all the crockery in the kitchen, but when you ran downstairs to check everything was fine. There were cold spots in the lounge and a strong stench of tobacco would appear whenever it got particularly freezing. Things would disappear and then mysteriously reappear in strange locations (keys going from a hook and being found in a pot plant.: a lost shoe turning up in the microwave etc). I am a naturally skeptical person, so assumed it was plumbing, recycling vehicles, all sorts of reasons, but I couldn't find any valid explanations. The house was on a 1/2 acre of land without neighbours.

We got used to it and it became an annoyance, but we couldn't afford to move and nothing really bad was happening, so we just stayed and put up with it. Then one day we decided to buy some potplants to brighten up the place. We came home from the garden centre with 4 ferns in pots and put 2 downstairs and two upstairs. We went out to the movies and when we came back the plants had been shredded and thrown around, the pots were smashed and dirt was wiped all over the walls with handprints. No-one else had a key or had broken in. It was horrible. After that, it just got worse and things smashed or were thrown around every day/night. One morning I woke up and all my moisturiser was smeared on the mirror with little kid handprints. Shortly afterwards I packed all my stuff up and moved in with a friend.

I've always wanted to go back and see if the people there now have problems, but I don't want to upset anyone.

R2, I'm purposefully avoiding telling where I live. I strongly think it's a secret society. There's no way anyone would roll up to a mausoleum at 1 in the morning wearing black suits unless they are powerful and probably wealthy men. Maybe it's like on the movie Eyes Wide Shut. I don't know what was going on but I knew enough not to pursue it further. Plus my friend is too weirded out to go back. I might be game to go back but not by myself.

Greenwood Cemetery, OP?

I was driving on a country road one night.The nearest house was probably a quarter-mile away.

I saw something in the middle of the road. I thought it was a dog or a deer.

It was a person crouching on the yellow-line. When I got closer, he stood up. It was a young man (late teens/early 20s).

As I drove around him, he got it a crouch again, like a runner. He then began sprinting along side my car. I drove faster. I saw him running behind me in the mirror.

It is the most bizarre thing that I've experienced.

That's really creepy R6! Eeeek!

My friend and i were driving home from a show late at night and had to drive through a bad area of town to get onto the highway. it was slightly raining and i had to stop at a stop light. This weird lady appeared out of nowhere, and repeatedly tried to open the back door of my car. it freaked me out and she starting cursing at me as i drove off. This was in 1990.

When i was around 5 my mom, sister and I drove to the grocery store. On the way home this woman in a ski mask followed us all the way home, and pulled up in our driveway. i think she took off the mask when she was in our driveway. it was bizarre. i remember my mom rushing us into the house and calling the cops. The cops came and interviewed my mom, but nothing came of it.

OP they have your license plate number

This is good

Bump

This happened to my mother, and I absolutely 100% believe her because in general she doesn't even believe in this kind of stuff.

When she was a teenager (Brooklyn, 1970's), there was a woman in the neighborhood who everyone said was a witch. My mother was with two other friends, and one of the friends began to taunt the witchy woman. Witchy woman began chasing them as they ran from her, with her arm extended as if she was going to grab them; eventually they ducked into a store to get away from her. The three of them then realized they all had a scratch on the exact same spot on their arm. Same size scratch, same location on all of them, despite the fact that the woman never got close enough to touch any of them.

r12, did they all start losing a lot of weight?

R6's young man was probably so bored and isolated he was racing cars for something to do. I've been out in country backwaters where there was graffiti on the fucking ROADS, the local kids has so few options.

Carry on with the stories!

When I was a kid my family & I were watching tv when we heard a faint scratching noise. No one could figure out where it was coming from. We looked through the front door peephole and out windows but saw nothing unusual.

The scratching happened maybe 10 times in a 15 minute period. Each time it seemed to get weaker. Then it stopped.

The next morning when my dad opened the front door to go to work he found a dead woman. It turned out she was our neighbor whose drunken husband had stabbed her and she had crawled to our front porch and scratched on the door to get our attention.

This is not all that creepy.

When I was in High School, my friends and I learned that F. Scott Fitzgerald was buried in our town. So a couple of my friends put together a project to film "The Search for F. Scott Fitzgerald." My job was to do that actual search. Considering I knew the cemetery, it wasn't all that difficult.

I located the grave, in a municipal cemetery. "F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda Sayre."

The next day, I brought my friends and their "film crew" back to film my "discovery." When we got their, the grave had been dug up and was empty. The headstone was still there, so my friends knew I hadn't been pulling their leg. The movie took on a whole new bent.

It was obvious where they had been taken (to the cemetery Fitzgerald had chosen, a cemetery on the grounds of a Catholic Church, where he was refused burial before because he wasn't in good-standing with the RC church). Someday, when I'm back home, I might visit there, just to see if they then find it necessary to dig them up and move them again.

R15 wins so far !

I have two ....

First, as a child growing up ....we had a local movie theater (one screen). The men's room was decorated with a wall that had wall paper that had famous male celebrities (John Wayne, etc) ....

My brother and I went downstairs to use the men's room ....we entered and realized there was a real man just standing completely still in the corner by that wall ...... not by any urinals or anything .....just standing there.

Scared the shit out of us. Told an usher and he went down with us to check it out, but the guy was gone. My brother and I both knew he was real.

As an adult .... driving down a busy 'highway'....two lanes on each side separated by a large grassy area.

Suddenly ahead of me, a naked young woman ran out from the side trees/shrubbery on our side. She was waving her hands .... there was a lot of traffic ....we were all going pretty fast and I had passed her by the time she was all the way out. In my rearview mirror, I saw cars stopping to help her so I kept going.

This all occurred in an area by an abandoned asylum that supposedly people were still living in or breaking into to check out.

I can only imagine what her story was ....

OP you story made my skin crawl. That is some scary shit! I don't blame you or your friend for never venturing to that cemetery again, neither would I.

Similar to the dead woman on the porch. Crappy neighborhood. My sister had a cool vintage car she kept in our old kinda bombed-out garage with no door. She didn't use the car often and wanted to sell it. When she showed it to a prospective buyer they found a homeless person who had died in it. Luckily the weather was cold...

R15 sounds like an urban legend. This should be true creepy stories here.

[quote]There's no way anyone would roll up to a mausoleum at 1 in the morning wearing black suits unless they are powerful and probably wealthy men.

What a ridiculous and totally bizarre thing to think.

[quote]Maybe it's like on the movie Eyes Wide Shut.

Ah, I see, you're a freak.

F&F

Well, it's definitely a Masonic tomb. Masons are into the (luciferian) aspects of Egyptian mystery schools. If the tomb looked like that, they were performing a ritual (which may or may not have involved gay shit)

I am currently renting a house where a woman died about 15 years before I moved in. The woman died in her sleep and after her death strange occurrences began happening. For instance my rocking chair would start rocking violently, the back door handle would twist, turn and open on its own. My dishes in the dish drainer would rattle so loudly I was sure they would break. Lights and the TV would constantly turn on and off. Sometimes you could feel a presence in the room and my dogs & cats would run outside.

I was so freaked out I wanted to move but I really could not afford it and my fiancé had just moved 150 miles away to take care of his aging parents. Out of desperation I started talking in my living room to "thin air" about how I only want to live here and make the place a home and how I mean no harm, etc. After that things calmed down and became a bit more normal. In fact I walked in my bedroom and found my cat on her back rolling around like she was getting her belly scratched. The animals lost their fear and when strange things did happen they were to my benefit. I'm still in the house and have no issues now.

you guys

This isn't all that creepy, but it startled me.

This happened years ago when I was working for a market research firm. I had an employee in a small town two hours outside of Billings, MT and the only way to get there is to fly into Billings, rent a car and then drive almost 150 miles. Now, flying into Billings is a bit of a trial all on its own since it takes connections and layovers all day. The airport is also on a mesa and if you aren't expecting it, coming in for a landing looks like you are flying into a mountainside. But I digress.

It's a long and very boring drive and it can be a little hypnotic. It was evening, dark, I was lost in thought and more than halfway into the drive. I started talking out loud and then talking to someone without completely realizing it. After maybe 15 seconds of talking I realized that I had been alone up until then and I looked over into the passenger seat. Now, I didn't exactly see him, but I saw him in my mind's eye, if you get the difference. It was just some generic guy and he smiled at me in an evil way and then screamed and his face seemed to change into something really scary. I shouted/screamed and damn near ran off the road at 80 mph. The drive was neither hypnotic nor boring after that, you can be sure.

There is also a cemetery in my home city that I avoid looking into when I drive past. Once, years ago, some spirit that was hanging out in there saw me notice him and got in my car. He followed me around for a couple of weeks before moving on. He wasn't scary, but I still didn't care for it.

Men in my family have been Masons for I don't know how many generations. There is nothing "luciferian" about it, nor does anyone spend time performing strange rituals in graveyards.

You conspiracy freaks watch too much bad television. Do you hold down full time jobs? I can't imagine hiring you.

In university we were partying at a friends apartment one night, and crashed on his couch…laying there asleep, i suddenly got this chill and opened my eyes. There right in my face, maybe 18 inches away was my friends girlfriend. She was staring at me, rocking or swaying side to side.

She looks me dead in my eyes, and says “They are telling me to kill you, but i don’t want to”….

She got up and slowly walked to their bedroom. As soon as I was alone I bolted.

My friend called the next day and said she'd told him what occurred, i didn’t have to say anything. My friend apologized, and they explained that she was schizophrenic, the medication helps her keep from acting on the ‘voices’…

Never partied there again.

R20, I might think it was an urban legend, except that it happened to me. At the time it was happening, Fitzgerald was very much in vogue. The movie of "The Great Gatsby" with Robert Redford and Mia Farrow had come out shortly before.

Fitzgerald was supposed to be buried in St. Mary's cemetery, at the intersection of Veirs Mill Road and Rockville Pike in Rockville, Md. (next to where the WINX radio station was). As I mentioned before, he was not allowed to be buried there. St. Mary's has a remote cemetery somewhere out around Norbeck Road, as I recall, and across the street is a municipal cemetery. That's where Scott and Zelda ended up.

At the time my friends and I had our rather uneventful adventure, there was apparently a move afoot to move the Fitzgeralds to St. Mary's. What I experienced was not an urban legend (if it was, it was probably the most boring urban legend ever). It was just a big coincidence.

Heard this from a maintenance man at work, very nice, stable guy and knows his stuff, heating and ac etc. He and his brother were out hunting way out in the country. Because I had cousins in the nearest town to where he was, I knew the general area. It truly is isolated, miles and miles of nothing but countryside, woods, and an occasional cave, no houses or buildings, nothing. They were driving on a deserted country road and came upon two women walking by the side of the road in colonial dress, bonnets, the whole deal, carrying baskets. The women paid no attention to the car and did not even glance at it. The hunters stopped the car and called out to them...no response. They looked at each other wondering if they both were imagining this or what. They started the car up again after a few minutes and drove on the uphill road. The women were gone.

R22,

Yep. I'm the OP and I didn't want to post which group I suspected it was. The reason being is that I've been to a Masonic temple when younger and it had tons of similar decorations. It could have been some form of initiation or a secret meeting. It was probably connected to the Scottish Rite variety and not your typical "blue lodge" freemason.

It also reminded me of "Skull and Bones", which is said to use the real skull of Geronimo that was stolen from his grave in Oklahoma. Supposedly the tribe believes his skull was indeed stolen and have pleaded to have it returned but to no avail.

These stories are freaking me out. More please!

Dumb Witchiepoo thread. F&F.

r25 scared me, but probably not for the reason he thinks.

Please don't "this never happened" this thread. It's bad enough that numerous threads are ruined with this, but I want to hear more stories!

Don't drive our storytellers away, please

[quote]strange rituals in graveyards

Local chapter of Bonesmen.

I'm always astonished that posters like R34 are completely unaware that they do not belong on the Datalounge.

What's creepy is you don't realize it because you're staring at your screen, but behind you there's someone staring at you right now.

[quote] Me and my best friend

Oh dear.

No need to read further.

When I was in high school, I went in to my one night a week job as a dishwasher with one of those clear face masks that has only a few facial features lightly painted onto the otherwise see-through plastic. You know how creepy those things look. It was Halloween and the staff and costumers were all enjoying the spirit of the night.

At closing time, I washed and cleaned my spooky mask with soap and very hot water. Then I took it into the walk-in refrigerator, where a large stockpot of beef stew sat atop an overturned milk crate. I lifted the lid and laid the mask face up atop the stew, pressing it slightly to set it firmly in place. When looking down into the pot from a standing height, the mask created the uncanny effect of a grinning severed head bobbing lifelessly in the stew. It was hideously cool.

I went back to the kitchen and told a co-worker to go check out the beef stew in the walk-in. He laughed so hard at the sight that everyone on the premises had to check it out. We all agreed that it would be hilarious to leave the mask there for the morning crew to discover.

I later learned from our breakfast cook that my little joke had nearly caused him a heart attack. The very first thing he had done the next morning was to go to the walk-in to see what the soup of the day was. He lifted the lid and was so startled by the "severed head" that he shrieked in horror and flung the lid. He was staggered and breathless and had to take several minutes to collect himself. He was laughing and smiling as he told me the story hours later, and he had been telling it on himself all day, but he made it clear that he could not have been more frightened had he seen the real thing.

I was creeped out about two years later when he died suddenly of a heart attack. He wasn't young but he wasn't really old either, no more than 60, I think, and he had been a steady drinker and smoker. But I have nagging guilt to this day that my holiday prank may have hastened his demise by a notch or two.

That's because there's a camera hidden in the ceiling fan. It's not at all shadow people R37.

Yay favorite thread so far.

R41, welcome to the Datalounge.

This is an adult website and it's a bit different than other websites you frequent.

Posting a comment like this:

[quote] Yay favorite thread so far.

Is not something we do here.

LOL, ROFL, MTE, SMH, emoticons, bad spelling, pointless "me too" posts and a lot of other things you may be used to seeing or doing are not done here.

We do use WTF on occasion.

Enjoy your visit.

Here's the story of F. Scott Fitzgerald's burial. I have been to the St. Mary's cemetery and seen his grave.

Okay, OP again. I'll share another one. This didn't happen to me but my friends.

So there is this place in my area that is rumored to be a spot for devil worship. I, a male friend and two female friends were out driving around late at night. They decided they want to go this location. However, I have to get up at 4am to be at work at 5am. So I decline. So they drop me off. Well the next day my male friend calls me and he's super excited about something. It turns out they decided to go back to the location without me.

It's safe to say that this place is incredibly spooky. First the drive there is dark from a canopy of tree that hang over a narrow roadway. Vegetation, mostly tall grass, grows up along the side, narrowing the road even more. At night the drive is pitch dark. Eventually you exit from the dark, tunnel of the tree canopy and see a dilapidated building on the left that is circled with fence topped with barbed wire. It used to be a factory. If you inspect the fence you will see a few locations where it has been cut. If you bend down and push through those sections you will gain entry into the property. The factory had loading doors that always appeared to be open so there was an easy entrance into the building. My male friend on a subsequent visit actually slipped through the fence and went in. He was in there for about 3 minutes and then came running out saying that it has all this satanic graffiti and human excrement on the floor. He said he heard noises as if someone was sleeping in there. That's not the scary part. For the scary part I will back up to my friend telling me what happened the night before.

The my male friend and two female friends decide to go back without me. About half-way through the dark tunnel of tree canopy my female friend who is driving slams on her breaks. There is a massive tree branch or trunk lying in the middle of the road. This was not there earlier. My friends are talking about what to do when all of a sudden a figure dressed in something that appeared like a robe with a hood steps out from behind a tree and just stops as if staring at the car. My friends could not see his face due to the hood. Then the figure starts to walk toward the car....and then runs toward the car! The female friend in the passenger "girls out" big time and screams at the top of her lungs. I'm sure my male friend probably also was screaming. The female friend who was driving immediately floors it backward all the way out to the main street and almost does a donut in the main street because she is driving so fast.

So my male friend was freaked out and wanted to know what I think. I told him. I think that whoever that was in the black hooded robe deliberately put that tree branch or trunk in the road to either force a car to stop or to make a car have an accident. It would not surprise me if his plan was to kill someone, possibly wounding someone in an accident and then finishing them off.

Unfortunately the factory was sold and reopened in the early 2000s. A light on a pole was placed at the site so it's no longer pitch black. However, the tree canopy still exists to make the drive there spooky. We used to drive by the place every now and then through the early 2000s. By the mid 2000s we lost interest as whatever was there had clearly been forced out.

Just F&F that fat dumb cunt R26, who apparently had nothing better to do on a Friday night than literally post ALL NIGHT on a thread she claims to hate..

Fuck off and die, R42.

There was nothing wrong with R41's post, you stunned cunt.

[However, I will admit that reading "smh" in a post makes me want to vomit in rage.]

You kidding, R42? We get "This thread is great" kinds of comments pretty frequently, and have for years. Lighten up, toots.

OP, can't you go back to the cemetery during the day and get a photo for us??

R48, No because it would identify the place and could eventually lead back to me. The pic I posted is actually very similar to the mausoleum. It has the same winged sun disk and is in the same faux-Egyptian style. The only thing is that the it's smaller. The mausoleum from my experience is a bit bigger.

I saw a lot of those type of mausoleums at Graceland cemetery in Chicago. They are creepy.

R50, The Faux-Egyptian mausoleums were very popular in the early 1900s, peaking at "Egyptomania" with the discovery of King Tut's tomb. Below is one in London. The deceased died in 1910 so it's at least 105 years old but probably older.

Most of the ones in the U.S. likely date from the 1920s.

I think they are cool and wouldn't mind be being buried in one.

Here is a rich relative's tomb at Green-Wood Cemetery in NY. It dates to 1848. Can you imagine what this cost? I'd guess the equivalent of $20,000 or more,

Sorry, not that creepy.

Another Witchy-Poo thread.

This happened just happened to me in December. My partner and I were at a small Christmas party at a friend's apartment. It's a high rise with security doors at the front.

The party is a blast. About a dozen people, a great mix, everyone's having fun. Just after 11, the host runs out of ice. I figure I could use a little fresh air, so I volunteer to run to the convenience store around the corner.

At the front doors, there's a little waiting room/foyer where you wait to get buzzed into the building. I'm walking out that door and someone grabs my right arm. It scares the shit out of me and I swing around to see the person, and he grabs my other arm and lunges at my face like he's going to bite me.

I lurch out of his grasp and fall backwards into the outer door, which opens and I fall backwards onto my ass. It's an elderly guy in ratty pajamas, his eyes are bloodshot and he's making guttural noises, moaning and snorting at the same time.

The guy's grip was amazingly strong given his appearance. Had I not been wearing a winter jacket and he grabbed my bare arm, I'm certain he would have drawn blood with his fingernails.

I get up off the ground and I'm in total shock. I run away from the building and there's a cop car stopped at the light. I run up to it in a panic, the cop in the passenger seat jumps out and I tell him I was just attacked and point to the apartment. He can see the guy inside the foyer.

The cop goes in, gun drawn, and the old guy tries to attack him, too. Amazingly, the cop doesn't shoot him, but uses the gun to smack him on the side of the head. By this point, the other cop has got out of the car and they subdue the guy.

They handcuff him and one of the cops hauls him away, while the other one stayed and took my statement. Another cop drives by and picks up the cop, and I start walking over to get the ice. Halfway down the block, I have this full-body shudder and I puke my guts out all over the sidewalk. I wasn't even drunk or anything, I had had two beers over the course of about three hours.

R54, I wonder if the old guy had dementia and was living alone? The shitty clothing, agitation and strength of his grip makes me think it could explain it.

That's what I assume, R55. The cops were pretty tight lipped about it, but they didn't seem too surprised. I figure they've had a run in with this guy before.

Once I realized it was an elderly guy, I wasn't scared. I knew once I got out of his grip, I was fine. It was just the shock of it all, to go from this fun party to getting grabbed out of nowhere.

I was on my way home from work, waiting for a bus in downtown L.A., right across from the Central Library. A lot of different bus lines stop there so it was pretty crowded. I was reading and didn't notice that a skinny, one-armed man had moved in very close to me. Filthy, in rags, with a terrible smell. He had probably wandered over from Skid Row, which is only a few blocks away. I was too surprised to look away, and when I didn't, he moved his one hand to his mouth and put the whole hand inside as if to swallow it. I instinctively moved backwards and as I did, I noticed that everyone else who was waiting for a bus had already moved away.

Later that night, I had finished dinner and was watching TV when I suddenly started getting terrible pains in my side. I immediately suspected that the hand-into-mouth guy was probably sick and that I had inhaled some of his germs. But after a few hours, the pains just stopped on their own. I still have no idea what that was all about.

Not a ghost story but I was walking along a dim street in a busy area of central London about one in the morning... other people around but not close to me... when all of a sudden this kid lunges at me, throws me against the wall, puts his elbow in my throat and says: give me a fucking cigarette.

It was over as quick as that but it was very unsettling... and a reminder about big cities at night, which I had taken for granted. Should have stuck to the main road when walking alone.

Wunst, my teacher yelled at me and it wusnt evin my fawlt.

I was chilled

That gave me chills, R59!

The following is a true story. I once heard a woman say on tv: " If you're tired, you take a nap, you don't move to Napa." The quote and the delivery left me scarred for life.

CHILLING!

Many years ago, had just moved to West Hollywood. Late one night, drove up into the Hollywood Hills with friends visiting from Orange County, up Beachwood Canyon towards the Hollywood sign. Passed by a deranged homeless guy walking in the street. We all saw him and commented.

Shortly after that, driving up in another part of the hills, farther down, definitely a whole other section of the hills, and drove by him AGAIN. We were all WTF???

Still remember it years later. It was odd.

It was "you take a nap-a," R61.

R64, even creepier.

That gave me chills, R64

Went out with some friends clubbing on Halloween last year.

We ventured into a bar we'd never been to before. I was walking towards the bathrooms which were in a darker part of this bar when all of a sudden a figure steps out in front of me. A more horrifying visage I have never seen.

He was clearly human, but where youthful beauty had once been, a gnarled grotesque face now resided.

He was clearly over 30, maybe even close to 40!

He reached out with his trembling liver spotted hand, smacking his lips and making crude, inhuman noises, "Never seen you here before. Buy you a drink?"

I knew if he touched me his old age would rob me of my youth and vigor, sucking the very life from my being.

I manged to distract him by yelling, "Hey look! It's Harry Styles!" This drew his attention long enough for me to escape his deathly clutches and run for my life.

I still shudder at the thought of that encounter.

R67, LMFAO.

R25, was the ghost who got in your car hit? You should have offered him a blowjob.

Great stories on this thread. OP, you had me until I saw your tinfoil hat rant at R30.

R58 You had to be shaking for at least two days after that encounter.

I am a professional musician/singer. One day I was onstage just doin' my thing when out of nowhere comes this bony hag with long scraggly hair. I could see every vein on her arms, her skin was white and pasty and her eyes were cold and lifeless.

All of sudden she grabs ahold of my face and says, "This is how I used to kiss Tupac."

She pulls my head back and then puts her mouth over mine. I tried to scream but she jamming her tongue into my mouth. I finally managed to pull away and then she just .... disappeared.

I'll never be able to fucking figure out what the hell that was. I get sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

Has anyone ever run into one of these?:

"16 Terrifying Encounters With ‘The Black Eyed Kids’"

Here is what a "Black Eyed Kid" looks like:

R57, tell me more about this one-armed man!

How come all of these creepy stories involve homeless derelicts? How about some variety, people?

R63, maybe the deranged homeless guy was familiar with the area and knew a shortcut to where you saw him again. Or its possible that some trusting soul may have given him a ride and dropped him off in that other section of the hills.

R25 your experience in the car is just like what happens to the protagonist in the movie "The Eclipse" (2009). Not quite a horror film but a well made little gothic.

About a year ago I was watching a late night show on tv when suddenly a grotesque creature appeared on the screen. It was much like the Cryptkeeper character and momentarily frightened me until the announcer revealed that it was Madonna who was appearing as a guest on the show.

This happened more than a decade ago.

I was getting on the subway at Museum station and going Northbound. As I was coming down the stairs approaching the platform, a guy was coming up. He looked at me like he knew me - I didn't recognize him, so I walked by - and he turned around and followed me back down the stairs.

The Northbound train had arrived by the time I made it down the stairs - I started running to catch it, as the closing chimes were going off - and he started running after me. I got in just as the doors were closing, whereas he missed the doors and didn't make it in. As the train drove off, he slammed his fist against the doors and cursed loudly.

I have no idea who he was or what it could have been about.

I was working in my yard when a woman came walking by. From a distance she looked like a friend of mine whose cat had been very sick. "How's Lily doing?" I asked as she passed. As soon as she said, "What?" I realized I had mistaken her for my friend and said, "Sorry...nothing." She walked on.

That night I was talking to my friend and told her the story. Sadly, she told me Lily had died that afternoon.

The next weekend I was out in the yard again when I saw that same woman walking by. This time she stopped and said, very softly, "Lily is doing okay...now." Then she walked on.

R80, Same thing happened to me. I saw a handsome, very stoned twink falling into the back seat of a taxi at 50th and Seventh. I walked over to see if he was alright. He sat up and started pointing and yelling at me through the window as they drove off.

Many years ago, I stopped at a store after work to do some shopping. As I was crossing the nearly deserted parking lot, a rather odd-looking (kind of bummy) young man approachedd me. He was accompanied by a normal-looking young boy of about 10.

The young man politely asked for directions to an area a few miles away. I provided them, he thanked me, and they walked away. The boy hadn't said anything or appeared to be in any distress, so even though they made an odd pair, I didn't think that much of it. I didn't say anything to the boy.

An afternoon or two later, I opened the daily newspaper to read during my lunch hour, and there was a big photo of that young man. He had been apprehended as the kidnapper of a young boy from the state the young man was recently from. The young man had killed that boy and at least one other. Fortunately, the boy I had seen had been rescued.

I was stunned, to put it mildly. That taught me to be much more aware. BTW, the young man was eventually executed.

Holy shit R83.

R83 which serial killer was it?

I usually love these threads but this is pretty weak so far. Homeless people and teen boys in hoods are only creepy to fraus (who seem to have infested this thread).

R86, Go take a nap-a!

That's pretty scary R83. Imagine how you'd feel if that boy was murdered as well.

Just like the eyewitness who saw Ted Bundy dragging that schoolgirl into a van, who thought it was a daughter and pissed off dad, so drove past.

That kind of experience probably happens all the time and nobody realises it. Horrific

Wow. That is creepy. You said it was a secret society. I wonder if it was the Necrophiliac Society - sickos who enjoy sex with the dead.

Your heart must have been pounding out of your chest when that car with it's headlights turned off appeared out nowhere. Fuck, man.... don't go back there again. Not worth it.

OP again,

When I used to work at a gas station I had a woman run into the store at night an start screaming to lock the doors that a man with a knife was coming to kill her. I turned to look at her and she was drenched in blood, like something out of prom scene of Carrie. She began screaming louder and motioned to the parking lot and I looked and saw this buff Hispanic man with something in his hand. I didn't actually see what it was but if that was the knife she was screaming about then it had to have been a machete. I race to the door and lock it and then race back behind the counter and call 911. I remember poking my head out to scan the parking lot but it was clear and the man was no where in sight. So I'm talking to the lady on 911 and hear the door chime, meaning someone opened the door. I look out there and see the stupid bitch leave the safety of the store and get into a beat up station wagon. The car then peels tires and speeds off. I have to go back and tell the 911 operator that the woman left but the cops had already been sent. They shortly appeared and I told them the woman left and showed them the trail of blood she left behind on the floor. They just shook their heads and laughed. I asked them if they needed to review the security tapes but they said no since "no crime" had been committed. I guess it doesn't become a crime unless the victim is willing to actually report it as crime. I would like to know what happened to that woman. Deep down inside I fear she didn't live long after that.

Perhaps R86 will approve this, though it didn't happen to me personally.

My cousin (who was eight) was a victim of Robert Lee Winslow back in the early 70s. He survived the ordeal but many didn't. Winslow kidnapped my cousin from a park and started sending body parts (fingers, an ear, a toe) to his parents with morbid notes like "He'll be returned to you...eventually".

Anyway, the cops caught him fairly quickly and it turned out the body parts weren't of my cousin but from the kid Winslow had previously kidnapped about 3 days earlier.

R86, they have to be either fraus or rich gays up in their penthouses or country estates, out of touch with the homeless young gays and gay in da hood.

This happened a while back, I posted it here so some of you might have heard this before.

One night I was out on my back deck having a smoke (cigarette not weed) and looking at the lake when a huge wind came out of nowhere but seemed to come from every direction. I was suddenly terrified but not from the wind, I felt like my life was at stake. Out of nowhere I had this thought in my head that was something like "He's coming and there are worse things than pain that he will show you". It wasn't anything like anything I would normally think. I ran back in the house and locked every door and window. Even climbed on top of my truck and pulled the cord on the garage door opener. I ran back upstairs and got in bed because I knew that whoever "he" was when he got there if things weren't normal he'd know I knew and it would be bad. About ten minutes later the wind stopped and the fear was gone.

None of the rational ideas about what that was ever worked. I wasn't worried or stressed or overtired or had fallen asleep while standing on my deck and I know I didn't dream it. It seriously baffled me for months.

R93,

You forgot to write about putting the dowels against all the windows.

When you wrote the story before, you had a poster who mentioned that it's a primal fear for all animals to be well-lit (porch light) in the middle of a dark space where they can't see what's coming. I thought that made a lot of sense.

Take a read at these nursing ghost stories. This thread has been steadily active since 2009. Some of these stories are truly horrifying. Some are lovely.

You're right r94, I forgot those dowels. You have a great memory. I was standing in the dark and most of the lights inside were out, but still, just standing outside like that, being tired might have been enough to send my mind someplace dark when that strange wind came up like that.

R96,

I especially remember it because I thought at the time, "Hey I need to get myself some dowels. That's a good idea."

Over ten years ago I had a nightmare, absolutely terrifying at the time, the sort where you wake up bathed in sweat, heart pounding, too scared to go back to sleep. I still remember it with absolute clarity.

In my dream I was home alone but it was my childhood home and everything was covered in a fine layer of dust. It was night time and there was a vampire outside. He could smell my blood and kicked down the front door but he couldn't come in without an invitation. He started telling me things, terrible things, to make me leave the safety of the house. He hated me for being alive and wanted to hurt me, torture me, not just drink my blood. His face contorted into a mask of cruel rage as he described all the ways he would torture me. It really chilled me. I was shaking for ages after I woke up.

Next day I went to work where I was introduced to my new boss - he was the vampire from my dream. I actually felt physically sick when I saw him. I had never seen him before and hadn't subconsciously seen him when he was being interviewed and I had been at another site for the previous six weeks. That dream still scares me.

I just remembered another one, I posted it before but it still seems pertinent.

Last winter I was up late reading when the lights went out around 3am. I used my phone as a flashlight to find my way to the fuse box and I'd gone three steps when a text arrived from an unknown number which said "I can see you". I nearly died on the spot.

Some stressed out minutes passed as I checked the doors and windows and looked to see if the street lights and nearby homes had power (the whole street was out) so.... someone was watching me in the dark and had known exactly when the lights would go out. Very creepy. I was on the verge of calling the police but what would I say? Someone texted me and it freaked me out?

I got in the car and drove to the supermarket, bought a newspaper and sat drinking coffee until 5am. When I went home I waited a few hours to call a friend and ask if I could come over. When I told him what had happened he burst out laughing. He'd just bought a new phone and had texted that message to me two days before when he was waiting for me in a bar and could see me hurrying up the street. For some reason it hadn't arrived until I switched the phone on in the dark to use the flashlight. He still thinks it's the funniest thing ever. Sadist.

r90 you said he was a buff mexican. how big was he hung, shirt off? who'd he look like. the guy from that 70s show.

Damn, r98 that would scare me too. So did he turn out to be a good boss or a boss from hell? Is he still your boss or did you spike him?

exactly r98 how hung is ur boss. skin intact. does he plow you daily. where in the office

He was actually a really nice guy R101, funny and smart and a decent boss. He's no longer my boss but we keep in touch.

I was waiting for a bus once outside I one of those heated shelters. I got the feeling that I was being stared at and looked inside I saw this old woman just staring at me unflinching. I was in my late 20s and pretty ordinary looking so it's not like I'm usually stared at in the streets. It was creepy but I just told myself she was probably senile. I waited around 5 minutes and she kept staring and it almost looked like she was giving me an evil eye. My bus came and I quickly got on. She came out of the the shelter and I was dreading her getting on the same bus. She didn't. She stood outside the bus and stared at me some more as I was in a window seat. As the bus drove off she looked at me and pointed. I was scared but I also couldn't help but laugh.

I've told a few ghost stories on here before so I was trying to think of ones I never mentioned.

I actually grew up in a home where we all believed in ghosts. My mom, because she was a nurse (as was my aunt who lived with us) and had seen things; they also grew up next to a graveyard where they saw weird stuff and apparently were okay with it.

Once when I was in college I got violently ill. It started out as a cold but I was a college student and not really that great at taking care of myself. In any case, I didn't think I could make the three hour journey back to my parent's house for the holiday because I wouldn't have survived the bus ride without hacking and coughing the entire trip. I decided to stay on campus in my townhouse for the Thanksgiving break.

I wasn't that sick before the break but I got extremely ill during it. I got so ill, in fact, that I had to go out and get cough medicine. Being incredibly idiotic in college, I decided to walk to Walgreens and buy something so I could sleep during a massive snowstorm because nothing on campus was open.

I walked nine blocks to the store in the storm. Like most college students I used to be able to go out in shorts, a tank and flips and not give a fuck. I then walked four more blocks to grab something to eat and then began to walk home. Not only was the snow much worse than when I left campus but I felt really ill. I'm talking about pass out in the snow and die ill. I was super scared about that happening.

I didn't even own a cell phone back then.

So on the way home I was walking on a part of campus that lead towards the area where I lived. Kids usually sat outside there during the school year and I had classes in the buildings around it. As I was walking on the right side of the path I looked to the left on an adjacent path and I saw a kid looking at me. It wasn't a normal look either. I mean most kids were at home for the holiday. I didn't feel scared but I did feel something wasn't right. Like why was he literally just standing there? There's a storm out. I also know it seems weird but I felt like he was being supportive cause I probably looked like shit.

Fast forward to me back home in my room. I ate, went to bed, and I had a dream that I was laying in bed and there was a man at the foot of my bed sitting and watching me. I wasn't scared in the dream I just felt like he was keeping an eye on me. I got a weird, "you're going to be okay" sense.

Next day my mom calls to tell me happy Thanksgiving and I told her about the man at the foot of my bed. She asked what he looked like, I described him right down to his bald head and glasses. She without a beat said, "Oh, that was your grandfather. You never met him but that's what he looked like. He was probably worried about you. Go see a doctor."

I high tailed my ass to the campus doctor's office. Apparently I was "much" sicker than I thought. Green mucus, can't breathe, two courses of antibiotics sick. I've never been that sick since.

As for the kid, some time later I was reading about spooky campus stuff and places where ghosts were said to be seen and yup, right where the boy was when I was walking home was where a boy had been killed years later, during a storm when a tree broke and fell on him crushing him.

The end.

I've had a lot of super scary freaky things happen, I feel very sure my house growing up was haunted as was my best friends, we lived in the first houses in our neighborhood, and had pioneer cemetery's at the top AND bottom of our streets.

Reading a lot of these story's has me completely freaked out and I'm about to flip on RHWOA because I'm too freaked out to get up and pee and i need a head change, even with my partner snoring beside me to protect me from the unknown. So I will tell you the story of the time my naysayer partner got the shit scared out of him by me.

My parents went on vacation and it was just he and I in their big creepy old house. We hopped into my parents bed for a movie and popcorn and both fell asleep shortly after. I woke when I felt him stirring and he said my name "Nathan?"

I didn't answer.

"Nate? You awake?"

I kept quiet, but I did the keep eyes almost completely closed, just peeking out of your eyelashes trick. I could tell he was having a bit of a creepy vibe/feeling.

He turned to look behind himself, over his shoulder. That's when I opened my eyes WIDE, and kept my face dead expressionless. He looked back at me and I hissed, "THERE'S SIMEONE BEHIND YOU!"

He whispered "what?!?!??!!?" and turned pale white, even in the darkness, looked behind himself again, just then I shut my eyes. He looked back at me, eyes shut, seemingly sleeping.... Oh man he freaked out. He grabbed me and started shaking me, yelling my name. I just laughed and laughed. He was mad, but dammit I got him so good.

Gotta per!

*pee!

What's creepy about R15's story is that the poor woman might have been saved if they had opened the door to see where the scratching sound was coming from

That was good, R106. If I was your partner I would have been tempted to smack you one, though (not that I would, but I would have been tempted.)

what was even scarier aboyt r106 is he wrote "he and I" instead of him and me in the third paragraph. eeeeeek.

Good Lord, r90/OP - is the gas station located in the same town as the cemetery? Did you grow up in Haddonfield?

I read through a few pages of ghost story thread on allnurses.com. I had a similar experience like those nurses.

I'm an occupational therapist. When I was in occupational therapy school, I took a job at a group home for disabled people. Most residents had cerebral palsy. There were a few spinal cord injury(SCI) quadriplegics living there when I first started. One of SCI quadriplegics was a woman in her 50s who was paralyzed from her shoulders down. I only worked with her a few times. She died in her sleep at the group home. After her death, lights in various rooms kept turning off and on. The showers in the shower room kept turning on and I saw it for myself one day. The shower room in the home had four big shower stalls. A nurse's aide and I took a resident into be showered and there weren't others in there. We got into one stall and started showering the resident and then we both saw water come out of the shower head in the next stall.

Employees and other relatives believed it was the deceased quadriplegic haunting the home. I asked if there had been any other deaths there and they said yes, but strange things never happened until that quadriplegic woman passed away.

About 12 years ago, I was going through a rough time in my life. It was my first bad break up, was very depressed, I was using alcohol and pills, etc. I was on a bus in Queens, and there was an older woman on the bus. You can tell she had been through some shit, and was possibly homeless. She actually looked like Tallulah Bankhead in her later years, but far rougher. Anyway, out of nowhere she starts talking to me. Tells me that at one point she was going to be a model, then started using drugs and it ruined her life. She warned me not to follow that path, said I was a beautiful girl with a lot of potential, etc. I wasn't high or anything at the time, so it was odd that she was giving me this warning, even though it was very much applicable at the time.

About a year later, I was doing much better. Was on my way to work on 23rd and Madison. Walking down the street, I look up and see that woman walking past me. We make eye contact, she pleased expression on her face and winks at me. What are the odds that I would see this woman over a year later, in a completely different borough, and that she would seem to remember me? I think she was some sort of guardian angel. Her expression the second time was almost like she was proud of me. It was a bizarre encounter.

R113, did she look better off the second time?

Love that, R113. Very sensitive and perceptive people often risk very rough lives. That woman SAW you.

Jung said that when one's life experiences a massive consciousness overhaul - unmistakable awareness and growth - a person starts to experience synchronicity. It's a sign you ended a chapter and started a new one

That was clearly Mother Mucka R113

I was 19. My two roommates wanted to have a seance. I had a really bad feeling about it, but stayed to watch.

They lit two red candles, held each others' hands, closed their eyes and went quiet. The guy seemed to be having a struggle, then sat up straight and went very still. His eyes opened, and his pupils were glowing like there were hot coals behind each eye.

Needless to say, I was scared shitless, but every instinct said to stay right where I was. If you've ever encountered a wild animal or a hostile dog, you know the stupidest thing you can do is run; that's exactly what this situation felt like. So I just held perfectly still and kept breathing, on pins and needles but not making any sudden moves or noises.

The red eventually faded from his eyes, and he came back to himself. I've never discussed it with either of them, so I don't know what happened to him that night.

I live in a City in Europe and this happened over ten years ago. I was waiting on a streetcar in a residential area of the city, and about a 100 metres away I spotted an old-fashioned hearse, parked in front of a building. When the streetcar arrived, I proceeded to travel to the inner city area (ca 10 kilometers from where I got aboard). When I arrived at the point of destination and stepped out of the streetcar, I saw the exact same type of hearse parked right in front of me.

When I was 14, my parents were gone for the weekend to a relative's wedding. My brother was 17, so my parents let us stay home that weekend on our own. My brother told me he was staying at his friend's house on Sat night, and to call if I needed him. We agreed not to tell our parents that I would be home alone.

I went to a party on Sat night and stayed out really late since I had no supervision. I lived in a smaller town. The party was across town but a walkable distance. Since I was a freshman in high school, I had no car. I met my friends there, but they all lived across town close to the party. At around 2:00 AM, the party had mostly broken up, so I wound up walking home by myself that night, which was typical since none of my friends lived near me. I decided to take the shortcut through a local recreation area that had tennis courts, a public pool, and a baseball field. The shortcut was to take the bridge over a brook that led to the baseball field. I would cut across the middle of the baseball field to the edge of left field, which led to a path that went through a small wooded area by a pond that emerged onto an office complex. It always scared me a bit to take the shortcut at night. The tennis courts were lit, and there was one light over the bridge to the baseball field, but then there was no lighting until you got to the office complex.

That night in particular, I got a bad feeling as I crossed the bridge. I kept looking around me nervously as I made my way across the baseball field in the dark. The baseball field was surrounded by woods except on the bridge side, which was where the brook was located. The path to the office complex was just past left field. I was close to the path when I turned around and saw a guy dressed in black staring at me from between right field and center field just by the woods. I stopped dead and looked at him, then I just turned and ran like hell through the path. I knew the terrain well as I took this shortcut home from school every single day. I turned around as I ran and saw him running after me across the baseball field. I had a good head start, but this guy was fast. I made it past the pond to the office complex and tore across the parking lot to another field up on a hill. I turned again and the guy was definitely gaining on me. By the time I got to the top of the hill to the other field, he was in the parking lot under the lights and I could see he was wearing a ski mask.

I was basically shitting my pants at this point and just ran as fast as I could across the second field, which had a bumpy terrain, but I knew it well so knew where to avoid the rough patches. This guy didn't and stumbled a couple times and fell, allowing me to get back some distance between us. At the end of that field was a main road with houses. As I got close to them, I started yelling, "Help! Help!" When I next turned around, I saw the guy running the opposite way and head back over the hill toward the pond and path to the baseball field beyond. Although he gave up, I was shaking all the way home and didn't stop running until I got to my door. I locked and bolted the doors and windows and pushed furniture in front of the front and back doors. I slept fitfully on the couch that night.

I told my brother about it the next day and we agreed to keep it between us. He made me promise not to take that shortcut at night anymore. Like he needed to ask! I did find out later that there was a burglar in town hitting houses close to the recreation area. I'm pretty sure it was probably him and maybe he thought I saw something? I don't know what he was planning to do if he caught me, though.

He was a burglar and a rapist, R119

I remember that one r99. Still makes me chuckle.

So is your boss a secret psychopath or what r98?

r119 do you know if that burglar was ever caught?

And not one badly spelled story yet that ends with "We later found out that our house was built over an ainchent Indian berryal ground."

Whatever you say, r123. Mine was hexed by a beggar woman.

No, R122, I never heard that the burglar got caught. I do remember reading in the paper that he had been chased by the cops a couple times, but he had outrun the police each time. He was described as very fast, which matched the guy who was chasing me.

My brother disagreed with me and thought it was just some older kid trying to scare me. My brother's best friend agreed with me that it was the burglar, though, because why would the kid have a ski mask and be alone? There were certainly older kids in town who loved to scare the shit of our younger kids by chasing them. I know my friends and I had outrun a few over the years. But they usually worked in groups of anywhere from 2-4 kids, not alone, and never wearing masks.

R121 no my boss was a great guy. I have no idea how his face got into my dream before I met him but he didn't turn out to be a homicidal bloodsucker.

It's funny how I can still recall every awful moment of that nightmare but can't remember what I did last week.

When I was a little kid, I used to have recurring dream about an old, white house, bricks painted white, with thin, black trim, rows of windows on one side and a fire escape. It's obviously a very, old house. I dreamed about climbing up a corridor staircase, white, with a window on the left and felt like it was part of the same house.

By the end of my dream, I'm outside looking at the house, rows of windows and it's slightly gray, green and drizzly outside. In the window, is a figure and that figure is me as a little girl. I'm somehow outside, looking at myself looking out the window and that me is unaware that I can see her.

Oddly enough, I was never frightened in this dream. I asked my Mother repeatedly if we'd visited a place that matched the description and she said she didn't think so. I figured it was from some movie I saw but lost my memory of.

Fast forward decades and I'm in a particularly old section of a town and pull into what looks like back parking lot to one of hose dinky, country post offices. On my right, I see a river and a field, so I start turning around, when all of a sudden, my right wheel sinks into a massive, mud hole that just looked like a shallow puddle in the light.

I get out and start trying to dig out. I turn to my left and realize where I am: I'm looking at the back of that old, white house, perfectly matching the one from my recurring dream from childhood. I can't tell if it's vacant or no one' home. Two guys help me jack my car out and I head home.

Come to find out, after a little researching, that house was an inn in the 1700's and is supposedly very haunted. A disabled woman became pregnant, supposedly drowned her child and went to trial for it and was later hanged. Some people claim to see the ghost of a young woman in colonial garb walking up and down the old highway at night. I don't know if I subconsciously learned about this house but I swear, it was my first, conscious time seeing it from back there.

Also, my Aunt rented a room on the farm of Michael Ross' parents in the 70's and she lived there alone. One night, she heard someone struggling to get into her door, tugging at the doorknob, so she called out her boyfriend's name, pretending to be asking him to check the door and the tugging stopped. This was before anyone knew Ross was a killer.

I've also had some vivid dreams but no ghostly experiences. The most vivid dream I had was, oddly enough, about the actor River Phoenix before I even had any idea who he was. It was so intense, it was like an oil painting. No, it wasn't sexual. In my dream, I was looking from behind myself and I'd fallen asleep on my bed.

My lamp was on and he was just sitting there, looking at me with this funny look of embarrassed compassion. It's the only way I can describe it. Then he leans in and kisses me in a non-sexual way and it felt like The Universe was rushing through me.

It was the most intense feeling of rapture I've ever felt. I had no idea who this beautiful man was who was as vivid as an oil painting but as goofy as it sounds, he felt like a kind of angel. That's how intense it was. I've only had a similar kind of intense dream, where my entire dream was me soaring through The Cosmos.

All very weird.

Wow, no less than THREE Madonna jokes. Well worth you valuable time.

My husband and I were riding bikes on a very calm day. I looked at my odometer, laughed, and told my husband that my mileage was 666. Immediately a huge gust of wind came up--so strong that it knocked me off my bike, but my husband didn't feel it.

i rembe being told bout driving on this road after dark onenite when the moon was at paragy. and i saw this girl in a oldfashioned dress just standing there so i stopped she toldme she was about three miles from ome and asked if id take her. i was all like sure. if u will chip in for gas, she was like your going that way anywayi was all like yeah but ill take you to your front door and she was all like no i can wlk its oly about 500 foot off he road i was all like kewl.

i took her to her hose and she thanked me andtossed me a coin from her purse. got out andwent walking to her place. the next day i saw a locket with with a pic of a victorian looming lady so i was all like im honest so i will take it back so indrove back down and no onewas at bandoned home. i looked in windows and saw boxes. finally old man pulled up in truck. he was all like howdy neigbor. im selling it. my daughter passed and my wife tricks on the side of road and im tired of it.. i was like yah i brought her home ladt nite. he was like sonny my wife stoped tricking 25 years ago. shes at myrtle manor retiremirement village and donut shop. i was like. eerie. he was like no pittsburgh. dah dah daaaaah

What the hell R130? This made no sense and you cannot write.

ahhhh go fuck yourself shitstain r131 its a funny horror story

Interesting R127. Very interesting. Thanks for sharing that. I have weird dreams and sleep paralysis, but nothing I've experience compares to your experiences.

Pretty sure r130 was satire.

I have a few of my own creepy encounters, but I’m not sure I want to share them since they still unnerve me. Here’s are some that I’ve heard all my life from my family.

My uncle told that, when he was a boy, he and his younger brother walked way back in the woods to a good fishing spot they’d heard about. They had just dropped their lines in the water, when they noticed a little man peeking at them from behind a tree. When they looked at him, he ducked out of sight. They got scared and started walking home along a dirt road. Sometimes they’d see the little man in front of them, sometimes in back of them, peeking from behind a tree, then completely out of sight when they looked at him. He followed them all the way to their yard, then was gone.

My grandma said that her brother’s wife died. Somehow, she ended up with her sister-in-law’s set of dishes, and there were a lot of them. The day after she brought them home, she heard a sound (like a little hand bell would make) come from the dining room. She went and looked in the dish cabinet, and she saw that one of the plates was broken. She didn’t think anything of it, but the next day, she heard the hand bell sound again, another plate was broken. She’d hear the sound anywhere from 1 to 3 times a day, each time another piece of the set was broken. Within a month, every plate, saucer, and cup in the set was broken. She and the sister-in-law were never keen on each other. Grandma said she was sure the sister-in-law didn’t want her to have her dishes. She said she hoped she enjoyed them in hell.

An uncle on the other side of my family told me this one. He was raised in a small village in Panama. When he was a boy, he’d had to walk a few miles down the road to a neighboring village. He did his business there, then started walking back home. On the road, a blonde, blue-eyed boy about his age (I think he said he was 10 at the time) was just suddenly there on the side of the road. The boy smiled at him, then spoke. He asked my uncle to come with him and play. My uncle immediately recognized that he was one of el dueños, since blonde, blue-eyed people are not common in that area. The legend is that they approach local children and ask them to come play with them. If the children agree, they are never heard from or seen again. He said he was terrified and started running. He looked back, saw the boy just staring at him and smiling. Next time he looked back, the boy was gone.

Thanks for all the good stories on here. I got absorbed in reading them. I had to skip the links about the black-eyed kids. Those totally freak me out since it’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard of.

El Duenos sound like the "black-eyed children" here.

I'm pretty sure that R130 thinks he's a whole lot funnier than we do!

This one is from that "nursing ghost stories" website:

[quote]My creepiest and scariest ghost story for me happened about a year ago. It really was more of a posession than a ghost story. I was helping another nurse with a patient that had lived a very hard life. It had numerous things going on with him from cardiac to renal failure. You name it, he had it going on. This man was very much afraid to die. Every time his heart monitor beeped, he would just go into a rage screaming, "Don't let me die! Don't let me die!" The other nurse and I found out why he didn't want to die. About 0200 his cardiac monitor starts alarming V-Tach. We both rush into the room. I am pulling the crash cart behing me. When I get to the room, the other nurse is completely white. This man was sitting about 2 inches above the bed and was laughing. His whole look completely changed. His eyes just had a look of pure evil on them and he had this evil smile on his face. He laughed at us and said, " You stupid b****es aren't going to let me die will you?" and he laughed again. We were kinda frozen. I did reach up and hit the Code Blue button and when I did the man went into V-fib. He crashed back onto the bed. We started coding him, but after 20 minutes it was called. 5 minutes after the code was called several of the code team is in the room cleaning up when this man sits straight up in the bed and says, " You let him die. Too bad." and then begins laughing. The man collapsed back to the bed. We heard a horrible, agonizing scream ( actually every patient in the unit that night commented on the scream), and then you could hear "don't let me die" being whispered throughout the unit. Everyone of the nurses that night was pale and scared. No body went anywhere by themselves. By morning the whispers of "don't let me die" were gone. The night shift nurses had a prayer service in the break room before we left for home and then we all had nightmares for weeks.

Then some other poster commented:

[quote]If I was witness to that I wouldn't be alive now. I would have literally $h*t myself to death. My sphincter blown right out my behind, giving one last merry toot as it blew in the wind. That has to be the scariest story I have ever heard.

me thinks r137 is an obsessed stalker.

r138 the nurse commented after that as well, but I can't find it now (read it yesterday) and said that she left that job not too long after because she started noticing personality changes among the staff (previously nice people were bitchy, a prudish girl was slutty, etc) seriously creepy!

Here's a link to police/EMT paranormal stories. Scroll down and read Sarcolemming's account of an EMT call to the projects for a possessed man.

R138 actually made me cry. I think the man had sold his soul and the entity was coming for him as soon as he died.

I had just started at my present job, and there was a coworker who just seemed to not like me - always staring, then dropping her eyes when I looked at her, not talking to me, etc, but I didn't think much of it.

Months later, one night, we were both at the computer charting kiosk, and she asks me, "You don't remember, do you?" I asked her what she meant, and she told me that years earlier, she'd been contemplating suicide - her son was schizophrenic, she'd lost her home and job, and was coming out of a mall - - miles away from where I live - - and was waiting for the bus to go home and do it.

She swore that 'I' walked up to her, dressed all in black, and told her my name and that I knew what she was planning. I told her that she was needed here, and that it was not her time, and that things would get better.

I have not been to said mall since the late 80s, and didn't know her from Adam.

Then, months after that, I went into a gas station, and the woman behind the counter did a double-take - - apparently, 'I'd' come to her on the street, telling her my name, blah blah, the same, dressed in black, and told her that her son was fine, and, 'not in Hell' - - her son had committed suicide two weeks before this.

I didn't know her, either, but both of these women knew my name. Weird. No explanation for either incident.

This past Friday, my cat Chongkino brought a huge, freshly killed rat into the house.

R138 reminds me of the life cycle of a Datalounge thread.

Most recently, looking at the photos from The Met Ball

R15 must live in a house of brain dead people, or ones too fat to open their door.

This is a thread habituated by believers of the sky fairy and its heavenly choir."OOOooooooh, scary! I bet it was something [italic] FROM HELL! [/italic]"

[bold] CHILLING![/bold]

The first hand stories are believable but most of these "My friend told me..." "my uncle told me..." "This is from a website..." are such bullshit.

The stories where strange people are seen are freaky. But people hovering above beds and black eyed children and duenos are silly.

[quote]The first hand stories are believable but most of these "My friend told me..." "my uncle told me..." "This is from a website..." are such bullshit.

Then don't read the thread. DL has a history of collaborative fiction. If you can't deal with it, start your own thread for people who can provide photos and video.

R127, the same thing happened to me a lot when I was a kid. It's funny seeing someone else say they had the same kind of dream. I had a few of them. I just remember them being "different" than any other dreams I'd have. They were always super specific and vivid. Everything had a natural flow and they reoccurred quite a bit. They're also the ones that I remember even years later.

In one, I was a gay guy in San Diego in the 70s. I just sort of knew that's where I was even though I'd never been anywhere on the west coast before. Where he/I lived was really a weird kind of formation. I lived with my sister and parents. I was tall and cute (cause I looked at myself once.) There was a road that connected to another road outside of our house. There was a weird slope on one and a fence between the two. It's hard to describe.

I always had different "first person" dreams with this same bunch of people.

Years (like a decade) later ...

I went to Comicon with a friend and ended up wandering around alone in San Diego because I was mad at my friend. I got lost but then somehow ended up right where they lived. I literally wanted to piss, shit and puke at the same time. I hadn't thought about the dreams in a long while. I can only describe the experience as incredibly fucked up because it was some weird validation.

It was so specific that I couldn't doubt it and since I had told my best friend about the dreams when they were happening I couldn't dismiss it. I know I didn't retroactively make it up or change details to fit what I saw. It just was.

I never figured out what to make of any of that. Ghosts I get, that shit is personal.

A woman I knew hung out with two guys who were criminals. One day, ne of the guys killed the other one. The woman told ne she went to a priest to confess and told him that an hiur after the criminal was killed, he appeared to her, clothed in black, loaded with chains, and cast fire on every side.

He had a sword in his hand, and raised it to cut her throat. In terror she exclaimed: "What have I done to you, that you wish to kill me?" And in a rage he answered: "Bitch, do you ask what you have done to me? You have caused me to lose God."

Then she invoked the blessed Virgin; and that damned soul, on hearing the most holy name of Mary pronounced, disappeared and was seen no more.

Shit r143 I always have people telling me I look familiar but that's taking it one step further.

R148 once you've gotten over your inevitable little grease fire accident maybe you can come back and tell us what hell's really like and whether it's all it's cracked up to be?

r143, that is really freaky!!!

[151] Fascinating. Isn't it amazing how it wasn't like some relevant tableau of your life but like living a moment in someone else's.

So you understand how hard it is to describe the vivid intensity of these kinds of dreams! I've had others that felt like regular dreams. I've never been on any meds or had any habits, so it's not like these were drug-induced things.

But these, they were like wet, oil paintings. The one with the man, who I assumed was cultural osmosis kicking in because he looked so much like that actor but it wasn't sexual, wasn't like some typical dream about pop culture things.

There was a vague wetness to the image, like he was under a water stream but totally clear and vivid and there was this slight shifting of colors as he moved forward. The feeling...kind of like when Grace Kelly leans in towards a sleeping Jimmy Stewart in "Rear Window"; that weird shifting of perspective and space.

In 1985 I was a security guard just starting college. It was a quiet Sunday morning and I was at my desk at my job studying. All of the sudden I saw a woman in a jogging out fit running down the street screaming. I unlocked the glass door and motion to her to come towards me. She runs past me screaming a man had pointed a gun at her from a car and told her to get in. I look at the street and a man is slowly driving by in a car. He sees my uniform and drives off quickly. I barely make out a few letters in the license plate.

Later the LAPD has me come in to do hypnosis and I manage to recall all of the license plate letters. From that they catch the guy. Turns out he was responsible for the death and rapes of over 16 woman up and down California. True story.

Wow r157. Interesting about hypnosis too.

I'd rather take my chances with a bullet than get into gun dude's car.

I was living in Colorado for a year for work. Being a single honey man I decide to look for some fun online. I reply to a very hot young black man who is home from college for the weekend. (I am a white business prof)

He invites me over to his house in a very wealthy part of Denver. Turns out it is the family home and he assures me his folks are away to Southern Colo for the weekend. We proceed to get naked and start having a good time. I end up topping him for a while in a large guest room of this massive house. Afterwards we go into this huge glass shower and shower off. As I am getting dressed I hear noises down stairs. It sounds like people are home and I mention this to him. He says no way but I insist he checks it out. He goes out and looks over the balcony and says "Hey Dad! I am just taking a shower and will be down soon!"

I nearly have a heart attack. The ENTIRE FAMILY IS HOME! I go into a full blown panic and tell him to get me out of here. He BEGS me to stay put as he is "straight" with a girlfriend and if his family sees a white man in their home he would have to deny knowing me which would make me an intruder and the Dad would shoot me dead with his gun! He says to follow his lead and he will get me out of there when the coast is clear.

He leads me down a hall to another guest room and hides me in a tiny linen closet and BEGS me to stay put until he comes and gets me to quietly get me out. I am stuck in that closet for 3 hours fighting my "flight or fight" instinct the whole time. He comes back to check on me promising to get me out when he can get the ENTIRE family to another part of the house. He finally manages to and hand motions me to tip toe my way down the hall and down the massive stairs out the front door.

WORST NIGHTMARE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE.

Happy to report I met my husband 2 years later and I don't have to go out to the creepy online world of hook ups any more.

what's a honey man?

I think he meant HORNY man

I was thinking "homey" like a guy who never leaves his house.

At any rate, not a creepy story. More of a Casanova tale.

A homely man, which is why he needs the web to get laid.

When I was a child I lived in a home in TX that sat at the bottom of a severe, limestone ravine. There were a couple of ledges behind the house; I was never allowed to climb up the multiple levels to the top, as I was very young. My grandfather would sometimes come to visit and we would explore together. One time, we saw a black panther up there. Supposedly black panthers are just a legend in north central texas--but I remember it and I remember being whisked away with my grandfather, my puppy leading the way.

Fast forward many years. This grandfather (a hateful pentecostal [well holiness, actually] preacher--conflicted, and pained) died of a brain tumor. As a result of his death, my uncle that he hated and alienated reentered our lives. This uncle stuck around with my grandmother.

I began having dreams of a place that was eerily similar to my childhood home. I had been living with my partner for about 10 years and was in grad school. I could see a home on a 2 lane highway with live oaks, limestone cliffs, overhangs, and expansive yards stretching to the road. It was like a stylized version of my childhood home. I imagined the first, second, and third time that I dreamt of that house that it was the same home I grew up in--just changed over time.

One day, driving the back roads, we passed the house. It was exactly as I remembered it from the dreams--I had this sort of THE WORLD TILTED sort of feeling. It was like I had suddenly become hyper-aware. I had to stop the car. I got out once we were out of sight of the house. I was okay--my partner said it was just a small yellow house near an overhang of limestone cliffs, just like I had grown up in. I had had dreams about my childhood. It was just that.

I tried my hardest to agree and calm myself.

I went home, we had friends over, we drank, smoked, and partied. It was just what I needed. This was Monday, just after the back-roads ride between Austin and San Antonio. I woke the next day with just the right amount of haze in my head to go to my meaningless day time job (internship with clients was in the evening). I was alone at work and surfing the net while not doing anything. I was heavily avoiding the tasks at hand when I got a call on my cell phone. I saw it was mother and answered with something along the lines of, "Hey Mom. Sorry, I haven't called... HOOO it has been crazy...."

She cut me off. "(my name) (my name)--Shush. Your uncle (name) just killed himself. He shot himself and they found him at (so and so's) house."

I left the office, walked across the street and found my psychologist boss and told her I had to leave. I called my clients and cancelled. I drove to Arkansas to be with my family.

It was awful. I had to take care of my mom and obviously distraught grandmother (we wouldn't dare say, but her church just condemned him to hell basically). We went to the place that so and so had had his truck (in which he killed himself) had towed his truck. My dad was going to drive the truck himself back to the house so we could figure out what do with it. I wouldn't let him do it on his own. I climbed into the truck. On the floor board was the rapper for a roll of black cats.

Tell me that does not mean something beyond my own life and knowledge.

Methinks R139 is on drugs. And not good ones.

Allow me to add a photo.

I think time-glitches occur sometimes.

I told here years ago how my brother and I went to visit our parents. When we entered we both saw my dad sitting in the living room, reading the paper and oddly not greeting us back. Then suddenly there was a noise to our left and my dad came out of the bedroom to say hello. We looked back to our right and the living room was empty.

Last year I had two incidents I remember.

I was crossing the street and noticed that the girl in front of me had a really weird shirt on. I noticed her friends as well, because there was something off about them, it was like their colors were a little faded. Went ahead to do some shopping and came back full circle to cross the street again at the same direction when I noticed the girl and her friends walking in front of me at the exact same formation. I had the oddest feeling of deja Vu.

Another day I entered a store to buy an appliance that I have been thinking about getting for a long time. Knew the exact model I wanted. The owner greeted me with, "you want to buy another one?" He insisted that I have already been in his store that day and bought the exact same thing.

[quote]apparently, 'I'd' come to her on the street, telling her my name, blah blah, the same, dressed in black, and told her that her son was fine, and, 'not in Hell' - - her son had committed suicide two weeks before this.

R143 -- This is going to sound way out there, and I'm sure there will be some comments about how stupid and crazy I am, but ...

Some people have made agreements on the soul/spirit level to do work that will probably never be known or recorded in the everyday world. Generally these are people who are unusually developed spiritually, though on a conscious level they may seem pretty much like everyone else.

Anyway, some of the work may be seemingly small things like comforting people at just the right time and place. Sometimes you won't need your physical body to fulfill your assignments. Google [italic]bilocation[/italic] and [italic]astral projection[/italic] for more on that. Some of the work may be strictly on the astral planes or in higher, spiritual realms (for lack of a better term). Occasionally even in lower realms, almost two-dimensional.

But having limited perspective, we can't know if those things really [bold]are[/bold] small. I can't tell you why those two people "rate" this kind of help or why you were the one to give it. There aren't very many people who take these assignments; maybe it was just your turn, or there was something about what they needed that was particularly up your alley.

Now, I know from experience that what I have said is true in general, though I could be wrong about it applying to you specifically. It's up to you to use your own discernment when it comes to that. I hope this helps.

r161, that was an autofill typo. Should be 'honey ham'. HTH

R169, sweetheart xoxoxo,

What you say is the TRUTH.

Some are able to leave their bodies to aid others in need, even emotional need.

I personally knew of a woman, who has since passed (RIP) who did this. She died young, in her fifties, which I believe was due to the exertion of this type of work. She was a full-blooded native American.

Has anyone else had an experience like R168?

I'm asking because I've had a few experiences of prolonged déjà vu, like you're saying sentences, and as the words come out of your mouth, you realize you've said every sentence before in that exact order someplace, but you can't remember when or where?

The last time that happened I said an entire paragraph and realized everything I was saying, and everything that was happening, was familiar, like it happened a long time ago and I was just remembering it now. Even the shop I was in was familiar, although it was in another state and I've never been there before.

Was he a hominy man? Did he like slow-cooked grits?

r172 that exact same thing has happened to me several times in my life. It's a very weird feeling.

R156, [quote]Isn't it amazing how it wasn't like some relevant tableau of your life but like living a moment in someone else's.

Thank you so much for writing this. This is the best description ever. The whole post. I've probably only shared that with one other person, my best friend, because I never thought other people would get it or dismiss it.

I've smoked weed three times in my life when I was a kid. That's it, ever. I'm pretty straight edged.

As I described it to her, it was like I was the world's best actor in a movie completely engrossed in playing someone else. Everything was so real and I was just so comfortable. I never questioned it. It wasn't, "Oh this is a girl who is probably my sister. I think her name is Pam." It was, "Ugh, Pam. What does she want?"

Out of all the dreams I've had in three decades those ones stick out. I really should have gotten the address or at the time I was having the dreams gotten a last name. It would have been interesting to have even further confirmation ... but the shock if I was right probably would kill me so let me let that one go. Ha!

Thank you again for sharing that.

Damn, R167, that looks just like my cat Chongkino!

20 years ago I transferred to a new city where I didn't know anyone. Everything I owned fit in my Toyota Corolla and I rented a small studio apt; one room with a walk-in closet. I hung up my clothes, plugged in my tv, and unrolled my futon. A fifteen minute move.

I went to kmart to buy kitchen and bath stuff and I bought a 500 pack of Q-tips. So I go home and hang curtains and such and put everything away. I take a shower and I look for the qtips, but I can't find them anywhere. I thought I must have left them in the car, but they are nowhere to be found. Oh well.

The next day I come home from work, walk in to my closet and find the box of qtips opened and half of them scattered all over the floor. I stood in shock trying to make sense of it but I couldn't.

Months later, I learned about the death of my first lover that happened about the same time. I guess I feel that he was trying to TIP me off.

Was your dead ex lover fond of puns r177?

As I Stood on the beach at Fire Island about 8:30 one evening, I noticed a white ring of light slowly coming towards me at a 45 degree angle. I couldn't tell how near it was but it was getting larger. As fascinated as I was, it scared me and I ran off the beach to my house. After 15 minutes I couldn't resist going back. And nothing was there. I realize people Don't believe these things unless it happens to them. But I wasn't high. I have no idea what it was. I've never heard a CUP described this way. There was a ghostly quality to it. Oh yeah, it was coming from the place on the ocean where I'd watched a Pan Am plane burning on the water some time before.

I've never heard a Ufo described this way.

bump

Some may be fiction, but it's an interesting thread.

Has anyone ever had sex with a ghost?

R183 Not willingly.

R152, did you copy and paste that from somewhere?

Some of these tales are ready for reading aloud by someone with a Boris Karloff voice.

I just moved about three weeks ago from the 1880s era Victorian house in which I'd lived for about 15 years. I had restored the house and was very proud of it. Though I'd always loved ghost stories and silly things like that, I never believed in anything until I lived there.

On my first night there, before my furniture arrived, I camped out on the floor to sleep in the front parlor. I was 28 and sleeping on the wood floor didn't seem as awful as it would now. I lay down and watched as my shoes, which I had removed, lifted up from the floor heel to toe a few times. I chalked it up to vibrations in an old creaky house.

But, over time, dishes flew from cabinets and shattered, things would disappear and reappear, etc. I finally saw some apparition, half-body, full body and assorted limbs. When the renovation finished, it mostly stopped, but, for months, months!, a needle (a large steel sewing needle) with red thread would be stuck into the molding of my bedroom door. I lived alone. No one else was there. Every day, there was the needle stuck into the molding. I'd remove it and put it in a drawer in the utility room. Next morning, there it was in the frame of the door again. Finally, it dawned on me to throw it away. The next few years were quiet, aside from a random, door opening and closing on its own.

After 15 years of painting and repairing and wearying maintenance, I decided, "Fuck it, I'm over 40 and need an easier life." I bought a brand new townhouse and love it. The other day, I said to my dad, "and, I don't need to worry about the ghosts here." The next morning, I kid you not, on the living room mantel...a large, old-fashioned sewing needle with red thread in it. I'd been the only person here, and, hadn't been sewing. This time, I threw it away right away. Perhaps my dog and cat are gaslighting me.

[quote]Perhaps my dog and cat are gaslighting me.

It's the dog. No one ever suspects the dog, they always think the cat is the evil mastermind and the dog is just a big, dumb goof. But no.

It's the dog.

Shouldn't have given dad a key.

u boted the fuck outta me r165. sounds like u should have sessions with ur boss. dumbass

Wow. Most of these are just long, rambling stories about nothing.

R191 Herman Munster, you're always so hard to impress.

R187, maybe your ghost grew attached to you and didn't want to be left in the old house alone!

An older black lady lives down the street next to the train tracks. She stopped me on the sidewalk and said, "Are you a spiritual person?". I said no not really. She says because the other night I was walking past your house about 10:30pm (I get home from work around 11:30pm usually) and saw a person walking up your steps, dressed in dark clothes. I called out 'hi' and they waved back. I thought it was you. Then they went into your house. But they didn't open the door- they went through the door.

My mother told me that during WW2 she was living at home with her parents, and her married sister moved home because her husband Rab was away at war. She and my mother shared a room, and the same big bed.

one night my mother woke up with a feeling someone was in the room. She could vaguely see a man's shape by the window, moving towards the bed. She was terrified and couldn't scream. He leaned over her sister and she swears it was Rab. He touched her sister's face and her sister woke up screaming. She said something cold touched her face. She asked my mother if it was her, and felt her hands, but her hand were warm.

My mother didn't say anything, not wanting her to worry about Rab. She told her mother the next day, and her mother told her to keep quiet about it.

A few weeks later, the telegram came.

What was "Rab" a nickname for?

Robert, we're Scottish.

Scottish for Rob.

R197, thanks for the reply. Very sad.

R198, thank you, too.

Several years ago my partner and I took a trip to Austin. One night we'd been partying on 6th street and went to that bridge where all the bats hang out. It was about 1 or 2 in the morning and it was deserted. We were just walking and talking, enjoying the quiet and nice weather, when we see a woman (or that's what she appeared to be) walking toward us dressed in a long, black dress with a cape and hood.

We kept walking and when she got close, we both got a sudden feeling of unease, mine bordered on terror actually. She walked past and that's when we saw that there was really no face in the cape, just whiteness and blackish areas where eyes would be. We both squeezed each other's hands and just walked faster, then looked back - she was gone.

Nowhere to be seen, and nowhere she could have gone. We were so freaked out we called a cab to take us back to the hotel, no way we were crossing that bridge again.

True story. So freaking creepy I have chills all over just writing it down.

R194, was this recent? How did you react to your neighbor's news?

Re R94, I have a sister in Austin.

It was this past winter.

I was just worried that she couldn't see well in the dark, and maybe they had actually walked in the correct way (lower middle class neighborhood).

It's a 1905 house I rent, and I just told her some of the things that have happened to me (someone seeming to "touch" me in the basement while doing laundry; the tail-end of "screams" that seemed to wake me up; my cats watching intently over my shoulder, and I'd turn around and nothing's there).

I don't feel threatened, though. They just seem to want to hang around. I feel like the current living "caretaker" haha.

A friend and I played games at his house, down the street from mine. We were both 9th graders, just hanging with his parents on a boring weekend night. We finish the game, leave to go down the street to my house. After about an hour, we decide to head back to his house.

As he is rounding the bushes to go to his front door, he stops and has this look of utter horror. I asked him what was wrong and he just mumbled unintelligibly. As I rounded the corner I saw what he saw. Blood covered their front door. There was a bloody butcher knife laying on the ground on the front porch, covered in blood. The lights in his house were off. Front door open except for the glass screen door covered in blood. He started to try to yell for his mom but he couldn't get anything out. I looked at him and said "RUN" and I have NEVER ran so fast in my life back to my house. He was right behind me. We tried calling his house. No answer. Called again. No answer. Called again. No answer. Finally, we get a call and it is his mom. They are fine. Come to find out, his band friends were playing a joke on us though his parents were not in on the joke. Assholes! lol

Did you try to get even, R205?

creepy bump

I was on a flight once. There was this creepy girl, she started howling. Her mother shrieked in horror to the flight attendant: "Oh God, no! Someone give her a Salisbury steak from First Class, or she'll kill us all!" The girl flew out of her seat - up onto the underside of the overhead bins. Her head spun completely around, and she stared at us with an obscene toothy grin. She skittered along the ceiling, only stopping long enough to scratch the eyes out of passengers in her path. As she neared First Class, a heroic flight attendant, Jared, lept through the dividing curtain, a steaming plate of jambalaya in his hands. The girl reached out, took it, and leaned in close to his ear. "Fank you" she whispered, before skittering back into her seat. Thankfully, the plane made an emergency landing shortly after.

This isn't a ghost story, but it freaked me out none the less. About 20 years ago, I had been approached by a hearing impaired man in a record store. He wanted a donation. I Gave him A dollar, and he gave me a card with sign language on it. I left the store and walked home in about 15 minutes. About 2 minutes after getting him, my apartment doorbell rings. I open the door, and it's the same guy wanting money. I freaked out! He had followed me to my street, my building, and my floor. I pushed him away. Slammed my door and locked it. I called 911, the police came, but couldn't find him.

When I was 9, a friend of mine had a Ouija board that we decided would be a "fun" way to pass a rainy afternoon. So my other friend and I are on our way over and are going up a really steep hill, so steep we had to walk our bikes up it. All of a sudden this little blue pickup comes over the hill so fast it's wheels actually leave the ground; scared the crap out of us. It's got some 2 x4's in the back and out pops this little round red object. It just sits there on the steep slope not rolling away so my friend tells me to go get it. Turns out it's this little plastic toy devil head (complete with goatee and monocle) about the size of my palm. Its creepy so I throw it into the grass along the side of the road.

When we got to our friend's house, they decide it would be a good idea to go back, get this head and put it on the Ouija board. We went to the exact spot where I had thrown it (my friend had seen where it went too), looked all over for quite a while up and down the road but couldn't find it. We were very creeped out as it was not even 10 minutes since I dropped it and no one was around. I took it as a sign not to mess with that shit!

[quote]I'd rather take my chances with a bullet than get into gun dude's car.

Off-topic, and I'm sure you all know this, but yes, never let someone force you into the car with them. They'll take you out to the middle of nowhere and if you're lucky all they'll do is kill you. Make them shoot you on the street with witnesses; better than being at the mercy of a psycho.

A cop I used to date (OK, fuck) in the 90s told me this.

R211,

My mom used to tell me the same thing too. Also that one should run in a zigzag.

Makes perfect sense R211 & R212 .... any serial killer story I've ever read that had a survivor was a girl who fought back or tried to escape capture.

Never believe the 'Don't scream and I won't hurt you' bullshit. My mother said the same thing, 'Scream, Fight, Run' .... you might die trying, but you'll definitely die if you don't.

any stories with yellow skinned people or off color?

Women are famous for that, #213: "Don't hurt me I'll do anything you want".

This woman walked a MILE with her abductor, through residential streets with people driving by busily going to work. At any time you could scream, run into traffic or just lay the fuck down- who's going to drag you a mile?

She's alive because he decided not to rape/kill her.

Yes, RUN if you can. Let them shoot you in the back. It is probably far better than what they will do to you if they get you alone. Chances are, they will not shoot you if you run but seriously, if you've read or seen any survivors stories from those who got away, you do NOT want to be at the mercy of someone who wants to take you by force. RUN!

"Women are famous for that, #213: "Don't hurt me I'll do anything you want".

Women are socially conditioned to be accommodating, smiley, perky and compliant.

Did they make an emergency landing and kick the girl and her mother off the plane R208? And if they did kick them off did the mother ever speak to the press about it? (Thank goodness Jared was there!)

[quote] "Women are famous for that, #213: "Don't hurt me I'll do anything you want".

Why did millions of concentration camp prisoners not rise up and kill the few people who were guarding them?

Why did millions of slaves in the American South not overthrow the statistically negligible white overseers?

Terrified people do strange things.

i me and my family were watching passion of the christ and finished it. as soon as i got of the the other room to the kitchen i saw a hooded person who was at least 5' 10" if not a bit tller. it was so freaking vivided that i could describe how rough it looked and the color was some sort of dull brown.

The hood looked ancient but i thought it must of just been an angel. I was not scared and so i went to my room and there again i saw pass by ahead of my room by the hall way and again not showing its face, As i started to sleep something went in my mind and told me to do harm to my parents and i never in my life ever thought of something like that. I resisted and it never bothered.

i could of been a crazy since that demon looked so real passing by through my eyes

R219: some did.

There was a rebellion of concentration camp prisoners at Sobibor in Germany in 1943-44. Mostly Russian prisoners. They killed a few guards and tried a breakout using smuggled weapons.

Nat Turner's rebellion in 1840 or so in Virginia; slaves rebelled and killed slave owners ad burned plantations.

In each case, the rebellion was crushed by overwhelming force (and presumably kept others silent through fear).

R220:

[quote]must of

must HAVE

[quote]could of

could HAVE

I had 2 sleep paralysis experiences

One was terrifying. I really did feel an evil presence. It was whispering something in my ear and I could feel its warm breath

The other didn't have an evil presence, but I floated out of my body. I could seem myself lying there in bed. I tried moving my hands but couldn't. Once I was able to move my hand, I instantly floated back to my body.

R222 Egads! It's the ghost of Emily Post, possessed by the ghost of Noah Webster! Oh, that such unearthly horrors should be visited upon this board and its inhabitants!

r223, I had a dream last night that is still making me feel rattled today. There was a man, average size and build, wearing kind of rumpled clothes - a dark vest over a gray t-shirt and black pants. Dark hair, fair skin, Clean shaven. A bit doughy looking even. He was standing in a corner, looking down, and leaning up against the wall. Someone said to me, "That is the face of true evil." The man in the corner slowly raised his eyes to meet mine and I was overcome with a feeling of dread and terror, like bowel-emptying terror, and I had a hard time finding my voice. I woke up screaming. I've never had a dream with such terror before.

R215 ....

That woman was not just lucky.

I'm sure she did one right, smart thing during that mile walk with her abductor.

In a situation where you can't scream/fight/flee (which she could have tried), you are supposed to talk a lot to your abductor ........talking about family, friends, pets, whatever humanizes the victim to the predator and *might* affect the outcome.

Probably why one of the first things that happens to a victim is getting gagged (besides preventing screaming)

R223 I've had one, really weird, almost tarot-card worthy dream like that before.

I'm watching this beautiful girl on the back of a boat, look down at the water. She looks like she's from the early, 20th Century, like Mary Pickford-esque, blond curls, innocent looking.

Then a mermaid comes up to the top of the water and she's whispering something to the girl. I'm a removed observer and I can't hear what's being said but for some reason, I know the mermaid is telling the girl that if she jumps in and lures a man in after her, the mermaid will give her lots of gold, in exchange for having a man to rag down to the depths.

This is obviously an evil proposition but the girl must have agreed because she jumps in and starts yelling for help. Then the mermaid comes up behind her and drags her creaming, down under the waves. All of a sudden, everything is black except two, block lettered words, one over the other:

Greed Kills

Then I woke up. It was the most bizarre dream I've ever had and I thought, what did I watch or read? The role of the girl was totally irrelevant to me, as was the mermaid. Was it like some "Titanic" mash-up? But no. It was clear, coherent, almost like watching a play and so, intensely vivid.

I've never had another dream like that. Ever.

I was working a night shift in the early 70s, back when I was a young student nurse. There was an elderly black woman on our floor who was dying of breast cancer and who had slipped into a coma. She was doing what is called "Cheyne-Stokes breathing", which is a sign of impending death, where the seconds between breaths get longer and longer until they finally cease. So it was just me and the RN in charge on the floor that night, and every half hour or so we'd go into her room to check on her breathing.

We were in the room together at the foot of her bed, and the other RN was looking at her watch to time the intervals between breaths; we had the head of her bed slightly elevated to make her more comfortable. It was about 4 am or so, dead of night, when all of a sudden this woman sits bolt upright, eyes open and focused on a spot above us, points her finger, and says, clear as a bell, "Don't you SEE IT?" and then drops back onto her pillow and dies without taking another breath. The other nurse and I just stood there frozen for about five minutes. I am long since retired, but have never forgotten this incident or this woman's name.

Agreed r19, the Nazis were particularly good at keeping hope alive 'Arbeit macht frei'. They reasoned that if there was a glimmer of hope that a particular individual might survive, then they would knuckle under.

227 was actually meant for R225

I've even felt that weird sort of rapid, air-sucking, almost mentally screeching fear before (the only time I've felt that almost otherworldly fear), looking down the bright, basement hallway of an old house that was for sale.

For some reason, the owner had it pretty empty, except for some spare furniture and this enormous picture of Mary and Jesus, at the top of the stairs. The picture looked like it was borrowed from a church, it was so old, massive and it looked very valuable.

The owner was an architect who was going to re-do the house for his family. for some reason, his family decided to move-out months ago and he was only occasionally staying in a couple of rooms, on the weekends. The rooms had the external doors barricaded on all sides but the one entrance. He looked really nervous.

I was about 12 at the time. When we looked in the basement, that intense, almost mind-shattering sense of horror rushed through me, as I casually glanced down a side hall, to my left. It was bright, with windows and was freshly painted. It opened into a circle.

In the typically stupid, horror story way, I walked down it and investigated it myself. I had a weird feeling there. "Curiosity killed the cat", for sure because I felt like I was venturing where I did not belong and needed to leave.

I had never watched horror stories as a kid. wasn't allowed to. This wasn't me letting my imagination run away with me. We polite said goodbye to the nervous, sweating seller and went home.

That night, my mom had a dream about a girl running out to the front of the house, by the forsythia bush and she said she felt this sense of fear and horror, like something bad had happened there. I had a dream that same night, that I was looking out the front porch, down the hill to the forsythia bush and that people sitting on rocking chairs across the street were suspiciously watching me; except, the area looked like the late 1800's-early 1900's.

We never moved there but the house always fascinated me. In class, we were talking about restoring old homes and I casually mentioned that my family thought about buying that house and restoring it.

At the end of class, my teacher said: "I've lived here all my life and I have to tell you, that's probably the most haunted place in town and a very hostile ghost is there. A mean ghost. You should know.

Also, about my previous dream. I talked to a girl, once, who used to do tarot readings and was this witchy hippie person, who used to warn people about things from dreams and intuitions. She described having almost the exact, same "Greed" dream, months after I had it. I know it was because I wrote mine down in a dream journal.

All very strange.

R227, RuPaul was dragged, creaming, under the waves once, too.

R231 Yeah, yeah I mistyped a couple of things in the process of getting everything down and didn't proof read well enough before posting.

The one horror we can all be sure of is that the grammar trolls and spelling banshees will occasionally crawl out to warn us of the impending, mock-able doom of post corrections.

I grew up near a forrest. When I was young, I would often go deep into the woods during the summer and wile away the day. When I was 12 years old, one early evening after dinner, like around 5:30, I headed into the woods via my normal route, which was to follow a brook upstream that went deep into the forrest. I knew I only had a couple hours of daylight left, so I thought I'd go a bit into the forrest but not as far as usual. I would often go in the woods after dinner but usually headed home around 7:45-ish when the light started to fade.

I came to a spot in the brook where the last house at the edge of the woods was visible just above the trees where the forrest started. Suddenly I got the worst feeling. I ignored it at first, but as I continued to step farther away from that last house, the feeling got worse and worse. It was like butterflies in the stomach, but not quite. It was just a feeling of dread and danger. I finally stopped and looked around. I felt like someone or something was watching me. I tried to go on but that feeling just got exponentially worse. It was like something was telling me there was danger ahead if I continued. I stopped and looked ahead but couldn't see anyone or anything lurking in the woods. My mother had always taught me to trust my instincts and to listen to any bad feelings or vibes I might get. The bad feeling just would not subside, so I turned around and headed back down the brook. The minute I headed away, the bad vibes quickly subsided.

I went back into those same woods numerous times over the years and never felt that way again. I read either upthread or in another thread that you can sense when you're being hunted or stalked. I'm pretty sure that's what happened to me that day. Either someone or some type of animal was stalking me, although the forrest I played in didn't have any dangerous predators that I know of.

R225 You've described my ex-boyfriend! Seriously. Ugh, the vests. The constant vests.

Growing up in a tenement in Glasgow, my dog used to sleep in my bedroom. One night she started growling at the window, with her hackles up and tail down. We were 2 up, so none could come in through the window.

My mother decided it was my daddy's ghost (he had died in the bedroom a year before). We'd got the dog after my dad died. She told me not to worry, ghosts didn't hurt the ones they loved. I was fine with that, but I did used to wonder why he would apparently only wander by in the middle of the night. We were fine with it, but it ticked the dog off something terrible.

[quote]I grew up near a forrest.

whitaker?

R225 I had a dream very much like that about three years ago. The dread was incredible.

Growing up, I didn't have recurring dreams or nightmares, but since moving in to the old house where I am, I keep dreaming the same, eerie dream. In it, I'm walking through a house that does I've never seen before. The previous owner has left a lot of cool furniture and there are two kitchens. It has corridors, many rooms and a gorgeous piano.

The place is dusty and I keep wanting to clean it up and sell much of the furniture, which would make thousands of dollars.

The odd thing about this recurring dream is that each time, the furniture and house is precisely the same, in vivid detail. You'd think that my imagination would improvise, but no. I walk through the many packed rooms and they are the same each time.

In one of these dreams, my mom announced something that was to happen, which later did happen in real life.

Can we please stop with the long winded "I once had a weird feeling" stories? Because those are not stories, at least not interesting ones. They're boring cliches and pointless, poorly written snorefests. Digging through 2-5 paragraphs to find out the grand climax is "I felt like someone was watching me, that one time 30 years ago" is not worth anyone's time. Knock it the fuck off.

It must be a bother policing the Internet r238.

And a big 'Move along, toots' to the truly creepy grammar and spelling trolls too.

Or you could knock the fuck off of reading this thread r238.

R238 Roger Ebert, is that you?! Do you have any, other messages for us from the other side?

Also: dreams are not creepy stories. Even when they're creepy. They're creepy DREAMS which are not the same as stories. Stories are collections of words which at least someone (the teller) presumably believes are true. Your fevered imaginations while sleeping off a meat lover's stuffed crust and two bottles of chianti are really NOT that interesting. We all have dreams. Start a thread to discuss dreams if that's your thing, but it's not the topic of this thread.

I kind of like the grammar trolls. They're so dedicated to excellence. OCD has its up side.

R243 I'm sorry, let me think of something more entertaining.

There was once this vampire and he sparkled like diamonds, in the sunlight. Like, his abs were perfect but TOO perfect, do you know what I mean?

ugh r243 stop reading this thread that sucks so bad. You're the problem.

When I was a teen (I'm in my 60s now) my friend was the fan club president for a local celebrity. She and a friend started the club sort of as a joke, we were all mildly obsessed with her. The celebrity was the glamorous host of a morning movie show on TV, a newspaper columnist, and dramatic in her style.

The celebrity asked to meet my friends after they wrote to her about the fan club, and I later went with them on numerous visits. She was a southern belle and a socialite. She lived in a fabulous apartment on the crooked part of Lombard in San Francisco. We visited her at her home and at the TV station where she had a beautiful wardrobe loaned by nice stores for the show. We helped her with fan mail in her stunning home with its view of the Bay. She was lovely, warm, and friendly and could not have been nicer to our little band of misfits.

She told us about some strange occurrences in the apartment, ghostly cold winds and things like flare ups when their were fires in the fireplace. Odd things here and there that were mildly disturbing.

She had a personal secretary who also helped with the mail. The secretary was a young widow, maybe about 40 or so. Both women were attractive and very social.

One time my friends and I went to the secretary's chic Victorian to help with the mail. While we were there the phone rang. She answered it, shrieked and screamed, "Why do the best people have to die so young!" She had just learned her friend's husband dropped dead in his 40s.

Two weeks later the celebrity went on a trip. It was a surprise, it turned out she eloped with a wealthy and successful local man. The secretary stayed in her apartment while she was gone. One night there was a fire and she was killed. We were told it was a mysterious fire that began in the closet and burned in an arrow shape toward the bed where she was sleeping.

The celebrity was a wonderful person, as was her secretary. I was grateful to get a glimpse of her glamorous world. They both were so kind to us, and so welcoming.

The marriage of the celebrity only lasted for a few months, it turned out the man was an alcoholic. I lost touch with her after that but my friends kept close with her for a long while.

That's a fabulous concept, R247, that should be further fleshed out for a short story.

R233, I've done a lot of hiking and wandering through the woods (and mountains and desert) alone, and I ALWAYS pay attention to any bad vibes, nameless fears, vague feelings of disquiet, or just not liking the place.

I figure there's never anything to lose by turning around and leaving, as there's nobody there to judge me for slinking away with my tail between my legs. And if there really is something there, there's a great deal to gain.

What an eerie story, r247. Is the celebrity still living?

#248, it's a true story. The celebrity is Pat Montandon. She's in her 80s now. I was just looking at videos of her on YouTube. She's a classic belle, and did a lot of good work in her life. She's written several books, one of which accounts the story of her haunted apartment. She was devastated by her friend's death.

I once had a dear friend who grew up near a forest. I was 12 at the time. I'm now 600,000 years old, but friends say I look 32 in my caftan and earrings.

One night, the dear friend I once had dreamt that she walked into the forest. As she walked deeper into the forest, she looked back. She could just see her house over the treeline, near the forest. The house where she grew up. Oh, and 12 year-old me, in a tiny caftan and earrings, off in the distance. Meanwhile, in Egypt, the pyramids were being built.

Back to her dream, as she walked into the forest, she started to have a bad feeling. A feeling like she was being watched, or followed. Or possibly threatened. She walked deeper into the forest, and as she walked, the trees grew taller. Time passed. The light began to darken as day turned into night. The whole time, that bad feeling got worse. The deeper she walked into the forest, the darker it got, and the worse her bad feeling became. The feeling of being watched. Or followed. Or threatened. In the forest. Near the house she grew up in. Inside of her DREAM. My dear friend was DREAMING. A BAD FEELING. DREAM FEELINGS. BAD. CREEPY.

And then she died. In her sleep, mid-dream. We never heard from her again, either. The house she grew up in STILL STANDS. By the forest.

This has been a CREEPY TRUE STORY.

Yes, 251, she's still alive and still quite beautiful.

I love this thread.

I was visiting friends in Chicago a decade or so ago. They brought me to one of their friends' apartment. On the wall was a picture frame with a cocktail napkin in it. Written on the cocktail napkin was scrawled "Jeff" and a phone number. The owner of the apartment had chatted up Jeffrey Dahmer at a bar in Milwaukee, found the cocktail napkin and put two and two together.

R252 You'd better watch out. The mean twinks are the ones they sacrifice first during the annual Eternal Youth ritual. You'll only find out what that means if you live long enough to tell the tale.

R255 How ghoulish that he kept it. I would've burnt it on a pile and said 50 Hail Marys as it burned. Creepy.

I was in Indiana visiting my partner at the time. We drove to a state park near sundown and parked in a small lot next to a creek bridge.

The land next to the lot was very dense with trees and fallen logs--not the kind of thing you could just skip merrily through.

After dark, I noticed a tiny, quick flashing light far off in the woods, like a penlight. I thought it was odd. A few minutes later it came again, and closer.

I told my partner about it and we both watched. The light came again, much closer to the car. He freaked out and we left. I can't imagine what the hell it was, but even a demented redneck with night vision would have had a hard time getting over that landscape.

When I was ten years old, in the 1970's, I was out with my biddies kicking around a few balls and over our heads flew a huge, black triangle-shaped object. It was incredibly low, almost tree-top high, and was completely silent.

We all saw it and were shaken form it because it flew so slowly and at such a low height.

Here's the thing: no one else reported the sighting, it did not make the news, and there were no other reports. Just us kids, three boys ages 10-12.

I once saw someone with a flashlight in the woods.

^buddies^

now, they are biddies.

R260 But did they see you back?

R259 sounds like it was an experimental military aircraft that is now a reality.

R259 My grandfather always talked about the same thing! It happened in the 70's, when he was hunting woodchucks with my Dad (I'm not kidding). This triangular object with lights in it, came low, then darted away.

He'd tell people about it but some looked at him like he was Russell from "Independence Day". I always believed him, though. He was a very old school, no-nonsense, ball buster and didn't make up stories.

R264,

Then we saw the same thing!

It must have had some kind of cloaking capability because no one else would see it except the 'chosen few' it hovered over.

How something that big could be so silent was bizarre.

Ahem.

Maybe it was the Batplane?

R267 No, The Batplane wouldn't have flown so low, fool.

I guess this is strange. I was driving at night on the 101 Frwy in Hollywood on my way to a friend's house when all of the sudden a homeless man pushing a grocery cart just walked onto the freeway. A lot of cars started to brake and honk at him, but before he got to my lane he stopped. I put on the brakes to slow down and as I slowly drove past him, we locked eyes. I got chills. I should have called 911 but seeing that cars behind me had fully stopped, I figured they would call 911. So when I got to my friends house 10 minutes later, he had the TV on and was watching the news. As soon as I was about to tell him what happened, I heard the reporter on TV say that a homeless man was run over and killed on the 101 Frwy. My heart sank and then I felt guilty. Should I have stopped and helped him or something? Why did he stop as if to tell me to go. What could I have done? I remember his face. It was just a blank expression. No life, dead eyes. It's so sad that his life ended up that way.

R269 It happened so fast, that you didn't even have time to think about it. That you slowed down and looked him in the eye, was probably seen as a kindness by him; you took care because you didn't want him to get hurt and he probably hadn't been looked in the eye, in years.

Sometimes, we make connections in life that we could have never anticipated. No matter hoe short or how long, they're important. You were just two humans, seeing each other for a moment.

Was he hot R6?

R251 - I live in SF and I was going to guess Pat Montandan! The fellow she married was named Wilsey (owner of a supermarket chain); they had a boy, Sean, who later wrote of his childhood ("How wonderful it all was", or something like that).

Wilsey was snatched up (some would say stolen!) by DeDe; today DeDe Wilsey is the city's leading socialites. She is a tireless fundraiser for museums, hospitals and other civic works, I'll give her that.

And I remember her stories of that haunted Victorian.

r270 Thank you for that.

R272, her son wrote a memoir called Oh, The Glory of It All. Then she wrote one called Oh, The Hell of It All. She borrowed his cover, too.

This happened when I was in high school on a family road trip.

We were in another state, house-guests in the home of family friends. My sister had a favorite necklace that broke. It wasn't valuable at all, just costume typical for teenage girls. But it was her favorite so my mom said they'd get it fixed the next day.

The next day the necklace can't be found anywhere. Anyplace my sister would have gone in the house is practically turned upside-down looking for the necklace but it's nowhere to be found.

Eventually it's time for he drive back home which takes a few days.

So, we get home, open the front door, and there it is. The necklace is on the floor, next to the door. And it's not broken. The door had one of those mail slots in it, so someone seemingly dropped the fixed necklace through the mail slot. But who? And how could have anyone taken the necklace and gotten to our house a thousand miles away just to drop it through the mail slot? Nobody we know, in our family or our friends could have done this.

But there it was.

R275 Did she have a stalker boyfriend?

R275 your sister did it for the attention.

I am really creeped out by that person who FRAMED a freakin' napkin from Jeffrey Dahmer. Who would DO that? Talk about creepy, awful negative vibes/energy! That is actually one of the scarier posts in this thread. I cannot imagine what kind of scary person would frame that and proudly display it.

R278 ...and it's on a napkin. Could he get any more macabre?

that's right R277

She took the necklace, had it fixed, then flew from a town in a Pacific Northwest to our house in Southern California and back again, without being noticed, just so that we would find the necklace at home the instant the door was opened.

And no, nobody ran out of the car to the front door and got back in the car without being noticed.

That napkin could probably get a good price at auction. All kinds of stuff belonging to awful people and events gets big bucks -- the JFK limo, the clothes Lincoln wore when he was shot, souvenirs of John Wilkes Booth and other killers, Nazi uniforms, etc.

R280, how do you know it wasn't planned by your sister? That she had the necklace on her person and maybe secretly dropped it as you all came into the house so it could magically be "found" there? Or. MORE LIKELY, that she never took it on the trip to begin with but THOUGHT she did OR she made the whole thing up while on the trip, knowing that the necklace was home on the floor all the time and that it would make a great "creepy" story when you all got home. Lots of things other than something literally scary. Did you ever see the broken necklace while away on that trip?

R280 it's painfully obvious your sister is mentally ill and pre-meditated the whole thing. She had two necklaces and dumped one of the on the floor before you guys left.

Or you know, she mailed it to someone else to throw through your mail slot.

Duh.

R281 I don't care! It would be like selling evil! I'd burn it and pray.

Thisonetime I got scared

wow r269. you could have done something to save a life, yet chose to sit in your car and the come here and post it under creepy stories. the only part of this that is right is you are a creep and a piece of shit.

Fank you r252. I got CHILLS.

R238 is right. These 'scary story' threads here were incredible back in the day, now its full of straight women (at least I hope they are straight women) talking about weird dreams they've had and getting a 'bad feeling' 20 years ago in a forest. Are you kidding me?

And WTF is Margaret White (R257/R284) doing on a GAY board? Burning things and saying 50 hail Marys ? Gurl…. you do realise we ARE the Marys here right?

More near death experiences, creepy nurse stories and encounters with possible killers please. The dream interpretation fraus can start a new thread or at least keep it down to one paragraph. Jesus.

R237 I used to have a similar dream, recurring over many years. It was a huge house like you describe and furnishings all in place. Thing is, in my dreams I knew that the house was haunted and that I was afraid, terrified actually. I hadn't thought about that dream for a long time until I read your post. So weird that it was always the same, nothing changed in the house. Don't know why I finally stopped dreaming about it but glad I did.

Ok R288 I'm a gay man and your recollection of threads such as this is different than mine, because any actual "ghostly" encounter account is met with snark. I know, because I've shared actual encounter stories here. Of course, all stories are met with the same snark so...carry on.

I posted about this on a similar thread years ago...

I was living in the French Quarter in New Orleans and visiting a friend who managed a small shop on a side street, a shop that catered to locals (newspapers, cigars and cigarettes, candy... not like a convenience store, but a indoor newsstand). It was summer and blazing hot, around lunchtime.

There were hardly any customers, just one other local/regular in the shop, a middle-aged guy hanging out int he air conditioning. So my friend asked me to watch the place while she ran to the bank on Royal Street.

A few minutes after she left the door opened and a man came in, dressed in a heavy three-piece suit and dark hat. He was pale, but not remarkably so. He wasn't a local eccentric or weirdo; he looked like this was what he wore all the time. Not sweating at all.

I felt like an animal absolutely sensing evil. Not danger, not fright, just pure evil. There were (and are) no words for it, and I've never felt it again in any circumstance. It felt a little bit like that sensation when you're not completely awake and become aware you can't move your limbs for a second.

I glanced at the other customer (whom I didn't know) and saw the same look on his face: dumbstruck terror.

Whoever the man was, he knew the effect he had on people and clearly enjoyed it. He picked up some gum or mints or something, put a dollar on the counter. grinned (which was even more frightening) and walked back into the blazing heat.

It took us a minute to speak, but I finally said, "Did you...?"

"What the FUCK was THAT?" said the other guy.

We'd had the exact same experience. It had lasted less than 30 seconds. And we weren't frightened until after he left -- while he was there it was just palpable evil. I hear people try to describe "the light" after death (which I'm not sure I believe in) and this was the equivalent, except in darkness.

I lived in New Orleans a while after that and knew most of the neighborhood people by sight. I never saw the Evil Guy again. But he sure wasn't a ghost, or anything like that.

"I felt like an animal absolutely sensing evil. Not danger, not fright, just pure evil. There were (and are) no words for it, and I've never felt it again in any circumstance." r291

Happened to me too once. I didn't feel like I had to flee or like I was in danger, but I felt revulsion and just the weird thought "This person isn't a person." The guy got fired weeks later for ethical misconduct. Didn't know anything about him, just his normal attractive appearance and that he had no soul and was down for absolutely anything, for the lulz.

The odd thing is that it only happened once. Like, of the thousands of people I've come across in the big city, only that guy set off alarms?

R291, another thing - I knew that the evil guy knew that I knew, and we both knew it too, like you two.

So my aunt jenny decided to come visit to help my mama with her kids, because my dad left because there was no work where we lived. anyway that was the story they told us kids. right from the start I knew Aunt Jenny was a powerful witch. she used to say she was a 4th order of king arthur's merlin witch and she was savin up for her next test to progress to the fifth order, and she had to learn all these spells

So i noticed she always wore this necklace with a single stone in it, that she called a moonstone. i asked her where she got it thinking from the apollo missions, which she said something about the van allen belt prevented that, but that Merlin used this special device called a HT-TM to travel there to get magical rocks for his gaggle of witches and warlocks.

the only time she took it off was to shower and because water would cause anyone to melt wearing it. i learned thats why the wicked witch of the west melted water hitte moon rock. anyway so i borrowed it off the shelf and put it on and went to go buy a lotto ticket thinking i would be super lucky.

but it didn't work for me, because i almost got hit twice, had a dog attack me, a few birds flew down from the sky to peck and my hair, one even shat on me. I immediately took it back and said here you go Aunt Jenny, it doesnt work. you better ask for a refund. she told me it had special charms to protect it from being misused except for the intended one.

So i asked her how i could get one for me, she said Iwould need the HT-TM. i was all likewhat is that and she told me merlins secret. the hot tube time machine and a plastic freezer bag for the moon rock. boi oh, was i shocked.

R288 I'll say 100 Hail Marys for you. Poor thing.

R288 While I appreciate your cowering in fear, on constant frau-watch for the rest of us, this thread is called "post your creepy true stories" and these stories are our own and for all intents and purposes, dreams are as real as any, other experience.

So, as much as I'm loving your impression of Lucy from Charlie Brown, you really don't need to push in and boss everyone around. You really can just not read the long posts.

If it's like these long posts are taking up too much space and pulling the ship down on data storage, I'm sure Datalounge will decide who to throw off the boat first, though I can just tell you wish it were you performing that difficult task.

I'll say 10 Hail Marys for you.

Sleep paralysis is not a dream. It's a creepy, true life experience. You're awaken. The evil presence people feel, I believe that it is some kind of window where these things are able to come through once in a while.

Just like people with schizophrenia. They used to be called "possessed by evil spirits" (and I think they are). Why are they always listening to voices telling them to do bad things? Why don't they hear orders to bake a cake or donate money to the needy:? No, it's always murder or evil evil things. These people have some kind of psychic channel with evil entities.

I believe you R275. I've heard similar stories.

R298, in other countries schizophrenics are different. Our culture brings out the worst in the disease.

r286 Sorry, I'm not as brave and noble as you are. What would you have done? I bet you would you stop your car and get out in the middle of the freeway. Take the grocery cart and push it to the side. Convince the unstable homeless man to get in your car so you can drive him to safety, right? Yes, I admire your courage and outstanding heroism. I apologize for being a piece of shit.

Wrong, R300. I live in Brazil and the other day a schizo entered a bookstore, took a baseball bat out of his backpack and smashed a guy's skull, the guy was just standing there reading comic books. The schizo said "voices told him to do that". And there are other cases like this.

Schizos are possessed by evil spirits.

Anyone who believes in evil spirits is a bit schizo himself.

Why are you in a thread like this if you don't believe in evil spirits, R303?

r304 the thread is about creepy true stories, not about evil spirits youpiece of shit satanist. i rebuke you troll. go backto your basement.

R305 Translation: "Redrum! Redrum!" Why are you so angry?

r306, not angry at all. i just am aggressive against evil entities.

[quote] Just like people with schizophrenia. They used to be called "possessed by evil spirits" (and I think they are). Why are they always listening to voices telling them to do bad things? Why don't they hear orders to bake a cake or donate money to the needy:? No, it's always murder or evil evil things. These people have some kind of psychic channel with evil entities.

You only hear about the ones who hear voices to murder because they're the ones that break laws.

When I was a social worker with the mentally ill, I had all kinds--ones who heard voices to clean (so they would constantly, voluntarily clean the group home where they lived), ones that told them the "path to enlightenment" (that guy spent a lot of time meditating and reading religious texts), lots of artistic ones that had voices telling them songs, things they should draw, etc.

When I was twenty-one, I was walking down the aisle of a grocery store when a man came walking towards me. He smiled and said hello, but it was clear there was something off about him. He was really trying to get my attention, and kept blocking my path. I rolled my eyes and went to another part of the store.

While checking out, I noticed the man in another lane. He was speaking to a taller man, and pointed at me. The taller man began glaring directly at me, and I had the sense of evil that others have described in this thread. All I could think was that I had to get out of the store as quickly as possible. The tall man glared at me the entire time.

The street was crowded, and I rushed into the sea of people. Once I was a safe distance away, I looked at the entrance to the grocery store I'd jut left. The two men were there, clearly looking around. The tall man still wore that horrible look on his face.

This story doesn't sound like much - a man glared at me in the grocery store! - but I still feel that I avoided getting robbed, or worse. I have a feeling that the first, attention-seeking man was essentially bait - he wanted to draw me into an interaction, and then the taller man would step in. It was very creepy to be the focus of such a hateful, unbroken stare. As other posters have described, there was a sense of nothingness - no soul, no humanity. I can't compare it to anything else I've ever seen, including people with severe mental illness who are not exactly present in reality. He was just evil.

r309 you sound like you were. going get abducted. what didyou buyin the store? which state? are you good looking? stats? ck size?

These stories remind me of encounters with the Black Eyed Kids.

When I was growing up, our next door neighbor was an elderly widow who had no family, and was pretty much alone in the world. Plain in appearance, Mrs. S had a very distinctive look; she had a face you would never forget. She always wore old-fashioned dresses, and never left the house without a hat. My parents looked out for her, and we kids mowed her lawn and shoveled her sidewalk. After about 20 years, her health declined and she finally had to move to a nursing home.

A few months later, my parents went south to visit my aunt and get away from our cold winter weather for a couple of weeks. While they were gone, Mrs. S died, alone in the nursing home. Her memorial service was held, but my parents could not get back in time to attend, and they felt sorry since she had no one else.

Later that spring, my mother and I went to our cemetery to place flowers on the family grave for Memorial Day, which was an annual thing for us. This cemetery has a small old section just inside the gate, with an iron bridge across a brook, which joins it to the larger part of the cemetery where our stone is located. Since the graves in the front section are so old, we never saw any people there, even on a busy Memorial Day weekend.

This year was different, though. As we drove into the old section, there was an old lady, wearing a dress, coat and hat, standing by the road. She waved and smiled as we passed by her; we waved back, and drove on. She was all alone, there was no car, and one else around. Just a little old lady, by herself, standing in the cemetery, smiling and waving.

After a moment, as we crossed the bridge, we both looked at each other and said “That looked like Mrs. S!”, and we laughed.

Afterwards, when we left the cemetery, we crossed the bridge again, but she was no longer there.

Later, we began to wonder: was that Mrs. S’s way of saying goodbye? It will be 30 years this Memorial Day, and we still talk about it

Sounds to me like the men in R309's story had mistaken him for someone else...maybe they thought he had broken the law or gotten their niece pregnant.

r312 karma will get you, for abandoning that poor old lady at her time of need meanie.

That's not true, 298. I heard voices saying some type of mundane things. I heard two older White men talking about math one time, and other times, politics. It was only once that one berated me and told me I should kill myself.

The thing is...why would you pay attention to the voices...can't you just ignore them, or tell them to fuck off?

The thing about people who hear voices in their head that we who don't hear them will never understand, is that it is their reality. The voices are real to them, same as someone in the room talking to you. I can't imagine how that must be, their reality is that the voice, while not connected to a physical presence, is clearly present and speaking to them. I really can't imagine how difficult it would be to even know a person like that, much less be that person.

No, R236, I think R233 meant Forrest Gump.

Friends of mine own a home built in the 1920s, and it's haunted by the spirit of the man who built the house. For the purpose of this story, I'll call them Bob and Mary.

They bought the house in 1977(?), and it had been empty for quite a long time. The house is a strange mix on the outside - first story is yellow brick with a front porch with Corinthian columns, second story is English Tudor style stucco and half-timbers, and the roof is Spanish tile. They set about totally remodeling inside and out, and commented on strange things that would happen while work was going on - tools being moved from where they were left, lights turning off on their own (the switches having actually been moved), thumping sounds, etc.

Well, one midday near the end of months of remodeling, Mary was sitting in the sunroom at front corner of the house, and Bob was setting out flowers at the front steps. From the sunroom corner, you can see the living room through the doorway to the right, and to the left is a doorway that looked through the den and then through another doorway into the side entry foyer. Mary said the front door opened, and a short, fat, bald man in a pinstripe suit came walking into the living room. She called out hello to him, but he ignored her, and headed through the living room towards the dining room and kitchen. Mary jumped up and went through the den and the side foyer and into the kitchen, but no one was in there. However, the swinging door between the dining room and kitchen was moving. She went through it and straight through to the front door, which was now closed. The man had opened the front door, walked in and through the living and dining rooms, into the kitchen, then turned around and went out the way he came, closing the front door behind him.

Mary went out the front door to where Bob was still putting out flowers. She asked him who the man was. What man are you talking about Bob asked. She proceeded to tell him the whole story. Bob tells her she's crazy, on one walked past him and into the house. They argue about it, but Bob swears no one walked past him.

A couple weeks later, they go to a tag sale down the street. One of the elderly neighbors is moving to a retirement center and doesn't have room to take it all. She is very thrilled to finally meet the new neighbors who bought .the old house and have fixed it up so nicely (even though she's moving away). She tells them that she has lived in that neighborhood since her teens, and remember when the man who was a lawyer and a state senator built that house. Everyone back then talked about what a strangely-styled house it was. The elderly neighbor said it was befitting, a strange house for a strange man. Said he was quirky - a short, fat, bald man who must have had at least a dozen pinstripe suits and he wore one every day.

Mary said she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she realized that's who she saw. Said her husband Bob just turned white and looked like he was going to hit the ground.

wait im confused r319 are you calling the guy who built the home Bob as in Bob the builder or was he a Mary and the home was Bob or was the home a Mary. I'm so confused.

so was the man who turned white a ghost and his wife, like on The Others staring A list actor nicole kidman. great story r320. did the lderly lady have a name or was she a Mary too? that house sounds like the house that gal on hgtv remodels and had lebron help her. was she there and saw all the ghosts? wonder what lebron saw?

R91

^ R291, rather.

I was raised in a New England state. We lived very near a very old cemetery. There were graves that dated back to the colonial era.

As a very young child, I would go there to play, often by myself. This would be about second grade, and earlier. I would encounter what some would call "imaginary" friends. They were not imaginary. They were ghosts. This one boy ghost was very sad, very negative. He seemed to dislike people. I now believe he may have been abused or perhaps died of an illness. I got the sense he was from the colonial era.Eventually, he would only appear, and never play. He would stand far away. Eventually, he stopped appearing altogether. Two other ghost children were very playful and happier. We would run around together. As I got older, I didn't see them anymore. I didn't tune into that, I guess. I went back to the cemetery when I was older. No vibes, no ghosts. I don't believe I imagined them. I would like to return to that town and research who is buried in that cemetery. I wonder if their identities could be discovered.

r320 it's not that confusing.

I have no idea @r316. Once I figured out they the voices weren't other real people, I understood I was hallucinating them. I wasn't going to kill myself or anyone else, no matter what voice told me to.

r302, schizophrenics are NOT possessed by spirits. They are mentally ill,possibly due to a chemical imbalance. To call them possessed is like something out of the Middle Ages.

Good story R324. I believe in ghost but I never seen one, as far as I know.

About voices and schizophreniacs...

One of the measures that psychiatrists use to describe schizophreniacs is "insight"--whether the patients knows that the voices are only in their head (so to speak) and that they are mentally ill. Some schizophreniacs realize what is happening and go through life ignoring them. Others, with a low level of insight, think that the voices are reality (usually, they think the voices are gods, aliens, the CIA, saints etc) and feel compelled to obey them.

R329, I thought those suffering from schizophrenia are called schizophrenics, not schizophreniacs...just wondering (not trying to screw with the validity of your post).

[quote]Dr. Winston is currently being held at Abbott Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis for observation. He will eventually be sent to the state psychiatric ward in Prairie Hills Clinic where he will undergo a psychiatric evaluation to determine the extent of any psychological damage and possibly reintroduced to modern society.

"I just can’t believe it….it’s just so odd. The family that used to live there moved because they said the house was haunted so I guess that makes sense now.” Said a neighbor who had lived next door for 33 years.

I saw something nasty in the woodshed!

I've met my guardians before (don't refer to them as angels because that's not what I really see them as). A bit of background I grew up loving the paranormal. Family is very religious but really never spoke about demons, angels and the like but I've had little things happen to me ever since I was young. Now I have always known about these specific beings. They came around a lot when I was younger and it slowly trickled to every few years the older I got. I eventually forgot about them in my preteen years since there were more important things to worry about at the time until I turned 14. One night I woke up at about 2am because my dogs who slept with me were growling and barking at something above my computer (which was located right next to my bed). I knew something was there staring down at me but I was too freaked out to acknowledge it and instead turned my fear on my dogs and told them to knock it off and fell back to sleep. This happened for a week straight ALWAYS at the same time and the same place above my computer with the same entity staring down at me. On the last night I woke up suddenly 2 hrs later then the previous nights and stared down at the end of my bed. I knew there was a whole other being staring at me (I never saw facial features back then) and it suddenly called my name. Lol when I tell you I FLEW out of my bed and turned out the lights! Didn't sleep the rest of the night. After that they started coming back around more frequently (i'm talking 2x a year) and years later I hesitantly contacted a psychic to learn who the hell they were and she explained it to me. NOTE: If anyone is curious about it these are NOT ghosts. They are non human entities so feel free to ask!

Fill us in, R333.

I've seen a shadow man before while walking home late night back in 1996. Scared the living hell out of me.

R334 Don't leave us hanging, tell more!

once upon a time there was this gal who lived in this village with lots of people around. and then there was this thingthat happened and shewent to the mall and bought a shirt. and there was this guy and he did something and then a bell rang really loud and a dog barked.

excerpt from my writing.

I've read Pat Montandan's book The Intruders. Very unsettling book. I've read scarier ones, but few that described such an ominous atmosphere.

I once rode the elevator with a woman I later found out had just murdered her boyfriend and was on the run from police. She stepped in and instead of facing the elevator doors, she faced me and stood very close. The look she gave me and held for the entire ride was truly frightening. I literally cowered and stared at the floor. It's the only time I've been genuinely terrified of another person. Her eyes were so dark and angry that my instincts told me she absolutely wanted to kill me. Never been so happy to get to the ground floor and away from someone in my life. Wasn't the least bit surprised to find out she was in fact a killer. Trust your instincts.

[R333] Here what else do you want to know?? Forgive me for not knowing what else to say, besides my one closest friend (and now DL) I haven't told a single soul about these incidents. I've encountered Shadow People also [R334] but contrary to the popular belief, I have yet to of seen one that had an malevolent intent. It seems like they are either in a parallel universe or some sort of time overlap kind of thing. Its pretty cool when you think about the theoretical physics part of this.

R333,

Why did your psychics tell you about your guardians?

From what I've heard, guardians are always souls who have been human. They give you guidance, etc.

I've encountered shadow people three times in my life and none of them scared me.

bump...in the night!

creek...a door opening by itself!

Creek? As in a minor tributary of a river?

One night, a long, long time ago I was in my bedroom on my back in bed getting seriously fucked deep. My fucker held my legs down as he pummeled me with his big cock. I watched it go in and out, in and out -- like a piston. His face was wild with the sin of sodomy. Suddenly his face turned red and he grew horns. I was now being fucked by Satan who looked way better than the trick fucking me so I got into the sex and Satan ravished me. I had bite marks on my neck, scratch and finger bruise marks around my genitalia, my ass was sore for days after this act of sodomy with Satan.

Are you Jonah Hill, r345?

I believe I have a guardian (because of unusual things that have happened). I kind of wish I knew who it is/was, or maybe there is more than one...could be my dead mother?

The one sleep paralysis incident that I experienced was truly the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me. It has taken me years to accept that what I experienced was sleep paralysis. For the longest time I would have sworn to you that the devil himself had paid me a visit, was sitting on my bed staring at me, and like someone else mentioned, then knelt beside me and was breathing on my face. I even feel a chill recalling the incident.

Yeeesh, R348. I had the same experience withdrawing from alcohol. Call it supernatural or an imbalanced brain chemistry, it is dark nonetheless.

Candy Spelling once gave me a blowjob in her Range Rover in the parking garage at Century City Mall.

I was reading this thread tonight and the same thing that happened to R259 and R264 happened to me and my friend in the 70's. We were driving on a rural road at night and saw a very low flying triangular shaped object. It was just above the tree tops and it looked like it was going to hit the hill behind us so I stopped the car to get a closer look and hear if it crashed. We never heard anything and I don't remember any noise coming from it at all as it flew over.

I guess it was experimental military aircraft but it was so unsettling and creepy to see something like that flying so eerily silent in the 70's.

Years ago, there were silent aircraft that were often seen flying low over the parkway between Yorktown and Williamsburg, VA. There were a lot of military bases in that area.

Another bump...in the night.

r331 is fake news

.

Oh for fuck's sake.

This has to be a Witchiepooshoes thread.

Stop feeding her, she's a crazy, saggy, stupid old bitch.

Chemtrails.

That's funny, R358.

A couple of planes flew over my head the other day. I saw the vapor trails, thought of the loonies here and laughed. What a wank-fest.

D@vida R0chelle claims (in another thread) that she auditioned for a reality show to go on TLC in place of the Duggars. Try to imagine the creepy R0chelle bullshitting about Amal Clooney's mother for an hour every week.

R360, Witchiepooshoes on some shitty reality tv show would be COMEDY GOLD. You know they take the ugly, crazy ones and edit them to be even MORE ugly and MORE crazy.

It would be fantastic. I'm sure she's lying (as usual) but just in case.. fingers crossed.

What thread r360?

R362 - It's in one of the threads about the Duggars but there are about eight or nine of them from the past week. It may have been the one proclaiming the end of "19 Kids and Counting."

Since all the Google requests for DL threads now go to the mobil site, I can't access them. The new site doesn't work for me.

In the post about her reality audition, she also rambles about doing a "sizzle reel" - her newly-discovered word for the week. It's just another word for a demo. In that same post she also mentions about a music video that she claims she did recently. Look through some Duggar thread from four or five days ago and you'll see her bullshit about her test for a reality show.

I read that the ghost of the 20th Duggar roams the house at night inappropriately touching the siblings' privates.

LOL R364!

Thanks r363 will go hunting.

When I was about 17 we lived in suburban Chicago in a large apt. building with an intercom system to get in. You first came through doors to get into the small entrance where the intercom /apt. buzzers were, then once you got buzzed in you went through to the larger lobby/elevators. One day I came home through the first set of doors and saw these 2 people standing in front of the intercom system. They appeared to kind of turn away from me. they appeared to be messing with the intercom system/looking for someone's apt. name/number, etc. I used my key to open the inner door and then I caught site of their faces. I was shocked and terrified as they were the strangest, ugliest faces I'd ever seen. The only way I can describe anything close to them was the face at the end of that Twilight Zone episode called "The Eye of the Beholder". It wasn't exactly like that but kind of. I can't actually describe exactly how their faces looked as it was too strange. The two of them looked related (like the sae type of hideous face with very slight differences, like they were from the same family) and kind of sheepishly trying to turn away from me, like they didn't want me to see their faces. they were wearing regular, normal, nice clothes and I thought Oh, man they must have some weird genetic condition. They were normal size, normal shaped bodies- everything was normal about them except their terrifying faces. They continued to look at me in brief spurts with a strange, almost embarrassed look on their faces, while the rest of the time turning their bodies away. I opened the inner door and kind of looked at them like "do you want to come through" but they just kept briefly looking at me in spurts me like they didn't understand and went back to trying to figure out the intercom system. I had such a creepy, frightened feeling. When I got upstairs to my apartment the thought came into my head that they were demons. I don't know why. Now when I look back at it I think it's more likely they were aliens. LOL. Anyway, true story. I've never forgotten it and have never seen faces like theirs again anywhere. True story!

Arise for All Hallows Eve! Does anyone have any new creepy encounters to tell?

OP simply stumbled upon Miss Tom Cruise heading into his secret playroom/dungeon.

About the OP story. I read just recently in a NY paper that mafia people used to meet just as OP described, in mausoleums because they believed everywhere else was bugged by the feds. Maybe they were Mafia working out a deal.

BUMP

My relatives in Ireland were always great for ghost stories. The one I remember is typical -- it involved the father of the family, who probably died in the 1960s, and so this took place in the earliy 1950s. One of my mother's cousins in Boston, Mickey, was sent to Ireland for a summer in the 1930s asa child, and was very beloved there, because he was a good-natured kid who would do any chore you asked him to. Later, he was in the army in England and tried to come visit again, but couldn't get there during his furlough. After the war one night, the father of this family was walking down the lane from the house, pitch-black, and sees Mickey walking toward him. The father says, "Mickey, what are you doing here? You didn't tell us you were coming?" Mickey says nothing, just looks at him. The father says, "Well, go on to the house, I'll be back soon." When he does get back, and asks where Mickey is, the rest of the family is completely puzzled. Mickey had never come. Three weeks later, they got word from Mickey's mother in Boston that Mickey had died that night he was seen in Ireland.

The other story is similar -- a neighbor who was a very good friend of the father, and had partnered with him for lots of farmwork, as farmers in Ireland used to do, had died. The father of this family is in the lane again one night, and sees the neighbor coming towards him. Startled, the father calls him by name. "A bhaile, a Sean," says the neighbor in Irish (excuse my spelling, linguists). "Go home, John." The father asks him what's wrong, why he's come back. The neighbor just keeps repeating, "A bhaile, a Sean. A bhaile, a Sean." So the father does go back home instead of wherever he was going. The next day, the family hears there's been a terrible accident on the road the father was headed toward, around the time he would have got there.

R247, if you're still around, I have Pat Montandon's book about her haunted apartment. It's very eerie and while I never find "true ghost" stuff scary, her book gave me the creeps. I also have a book of "ghost" photos that includes a photo of the "spirit" searching through a drawer in a chest in her apartment and it was bizarre!

r16: You're from Rockville, too?!

I kept reading and saw that you are from Rockville, r16. Whereabouts? We lived on Park Road in the 70's. Did you go to Maryvale Elementary? Are you the same who commented on The Wheel - A - While and Putt-Putt several years ago? I remember being told Fitzgerald was in the cemetery right across from the Civic Centre at one point.

This is a long story, more eerie and sad than creepy and was related to me by a good friend of mine, a former coworker. He's one of my few close gay friends aside from my sister, so he's consequently one of the only people with whom I can candidly discuss sexuality and relationships, factoring our natural reticence. He's about 10 years my senior and as long as I've known him (about 25 years), on the rare occasions he's shown real attraction to a guy, it's always been to a very specific type--blondish, somewhat receding hair, strong jawline, with a gap between the front teeth, not particularly handsome, just nice and wholesome-looking. It's such a specific look that if you put these 3 or 4 guys in a room, they'd look like brothers. Because of his age (mid 60s now) and a sense of sadness I got from him regarding his relationship history, I concluded these guys were an obvious stand in for someone from his past, someone he'd lost, probably to AIDS.

We have mutual friends who married late in life, and after a few drinks, I kind of hesitantly suggested maybe he ought to entertain the thought of putting himself out there again, and he firmly rejected the idea, said there'd only been one man for him and that ship had sailed. The booze uninhibited me enough I let curiosity get the better of me and asked him what happened and he said "nothing," then after about a minute, said the guy was dead....but they'd never actually met. A couple more drinks and the story comes out. I should preface this by saying he's one of the least fanciful, most rational, skeptical people I know. He doesn't believe in astrology or reincarnation, thinks UFOs are all military aircraft or clouds and every Sasquatch sighting was a bear as seen by a drunk.

As long as he could remember, he'd had a picture of another boy, then a young man, in his mind's eye, more than a picture, a sense of someone living in a small, rural town with whom he had an occasional, intense brief mental connection. It was as if now and then he would enter this guy's head and see through his eyes, experience his feelings, just for a second. My friend is an engineer and went to school when you did mechanical drawing painstakingly by hand. He can still produce exact renderings of machinery and building specs, but he's never done anything artistic or expressive. Yet when he was about 18, he pulled out his drafting pad and drew the face of this young man he'd only seen in his mind, the only portrait he's ever done.

Not long after, a snippet of background footage on an evening news magazine show sparked a jolt of recognition, the rural town with the tree-covered mountain looming above it, the bridge over the river, the shuttered mill, the water tower, the main street with the square anchored by the county courthouse he'd seen in his head in those moments of connection. It was a real place, but the news show about the dire state of manufacturing in the US gave no specifics beyond that. There was no IMDb back then, so he wrote the producers at CBS inquiring about the locations, and eventually got a courteous letter saying the news crew took a lot of atmospheric shots in Tennessee, South Carolina and NE Georgia which were edited together, it was a mishmash of places, not any specific one. But he knew where to start looking.

Unfortunately he was a teenager without a car and lived clear across the country, so he had to settle for learning everything he could about that region of the South, encyclopedias, National Geographics, books of photography, whatever came to hand at the library or bookstores.Sometimes he sensed he was getting warmer, sometimes colder. It was always just a sixth sense. His search consumed him. It was his secret life, compartmentalized away from his regimented orderly life as an engineering major at the local state college his father could just about afford.

(Part 2) Between his junior and senior year, he finally had enough saved for a week's vacation in the area--on the pretext of researching possible grad schools, he rode a borrowed motorcycle through 4 states, feeling frustratingly close but coming up empty. In the coffee shop in the Greyhound station in Chattanooga, his glance fell on a newspaper left behind by a passenger with a front page story of small town crime and a photo of the county courthouse he'd been searching for, in Dade County, near the TN/AL/GA border intersection. On the bus home, he devoured the paper, combing it for clues about--who? All he knew was he'd know him when he saw him. My friend had to settle for learning about the world this man lived in.

He returned the following summer, with only a week before his job started, three days to get there, three days to get back, only 24 hours for...he wasn't sure what. But he was filled with purpose, a sense of keeping an appointment. It was early afternoon when he turned onto Hwy 11, the only road that would take him there, a few more miles, and then unexpectedly, the sparse traffic came to a standstill. About a quarter mile ahead he saw flashing lights and a stopped train, so he waited. And waited. Twenty minutes went by and he began to worry, even though it was early and he didn't quite know what he was going to do when he got to town. Some of the local men had climbed out of their trucks and were smoking and chatting, and he went up to them and asked if they knew what was going on. Mud on the tracks, he was told. Happens all the time. Shouldn't take more than an hour. That filled him with dread. He felt somehow that in an hour it would be too late. Ten minutes went by and the train lurched and then got rolling again, maddeningly slow, the barriers went up and he was stuck in a parade of rural vehicles meandering into town.

He arrived just as the clock on the courthouse tower struck three. He drove around the deserted square, not knowing what to look for, yet feeling almost panicked, up then down the main street, stopping at the only stop sign just as a woman in a waitress apron turned over the OPEN sign in the window of a small cafe, the kind that you still find in small towns, open at 5 am for breakfast and closed after 3 pm when school lets out and closed on Sunday. The sight made his heart sink. He rambled aimlessly around the town and countryside all afternoon and evening but knew with certainty he'd missed him. He delayed his departure till the next morning and returned to the cafe, but the only customers were a few old farmers.

He returned home, dejected, determined to return as soon as he could, but family health and money issues came up and several years went by. The sense of connection he'd had receded and grew faint, but then one night, my friend was at work and was jolted into a powerful awareness again which gripped him for several days, then was gone.

A couple of years later, about 10 years after the abortive road trip, he attended a work conference at Georgia Tech and decided to take some overdue vacation afterward. He drove back to the little town near the Alabama line and checked into a picturesque b&b whose owners were big in the local historical society and whose neighbors included the high school principal and the editor of the weekly paper. At dinner, pleased that this outsiders genuine interest, the gentleman invited him to visit the small office and browse through the back issues to his heart's content. He spent the next day ensconsed in a Civil War era wing chair, working his way through chronicles of livestock auctions and flower shows, engaging with his chatty host. It was at lunch time when he came across the photo he'd been looking for, and finally had a name to go with the face--in an obituary from 3 years ago.

(Part 3)

Numb, he read about the 33 year old actuary ironically died in auto accident a mile from his home in a rural area 15 miles from town, suspected of falling asleep at the wheel and driving off a notoriously dangerous curve. He had no immediate family and had been preceded in death by his parents. The editor returned from lunch and my friend had collected himself sufficiently to think up a story of mutual college acquaintances, and got the rest of the story, of a young man with a bright future who slowly faded, his youth spent caring for elderly parents, taking over the family insurance business, no girlfriends anyone knew of, just work and after his mother passed, the bottle. He'd probably been drunk when he went off that curve, but since no one else was involved, the official story was asleep at the wheel.

My friend said he knew it was totally irrational, but he went through a period of mourning for this stranger he'd never met as intense as a widower who'd lost a spouse of decades. He doesn't believe in reincarnation but felt some people would be happy with any of a number of potential partners while others truly have another half and will never truly live their lives unless they find that person, and he believed the man in Georgia was supposed to be his.

This spiritual, intuitive phase of his life was, as I said, anomalous for a man who's rational and logical in every other aspect. From anyone else, I'd dismiss it as healing-crystals-and-palm-reading time. When he returned from Georgia, he let that side of himself atrophy and fade.

But the detail he couldn't get over was that according to the editor, every day from the time he returned from college to take over his dad's business to the day he died, the actuary ate lunch in that cafe off Main Street.

I've had a very adventurous life so have many creepy and or weird stories. I also don't believe in any traditional version of God. The one that probably is the most weird concerns a famous humanitarian. I was doing volunteer work in another country for this humanitarian's organization. The humanitarian wasn't in the country, so I never met them, not only missing the humanitarian when I was working for the organization, but two more times, when I missed a chance to meet the humanitarian in other cities by only a day.

Years later, I was visiting my parents and woke up late - I looked at the atomic clock by the bed and was surprised by how late it was. I had been in the middle of a dream; in the dream, I was back at the humanitarian's organization in the foreign country. The humanitarian was talking to me about one of the patients, and it was so vivid, then the humanitarian touched my elbow and said, "Go with God my child." That was when I woke up, feeling as if I had actually been touched.

The dream was so vivid that I told my sibling. I had never dreamt of the humanitarian before or since, and again, had never met them.

There was a huge storm and the electricity was out, so it wasn't until a few hours later that I learned that the humanitarian had died exactly at the moment I had my dream.

About a month ago, I had a dream about my grandmother who passed away when I was about 9 (36 now). Which was weird because I really never dreamt of my deceased grandparents. In the dream, she was just kind of sitting on a headstone, just sort of hanging out by it. Didn't say anything in the dream. Woke up the next day thinking it was an odd and rather morose dream.

Two days later my mom would go into Cardiac arrest and would pass away 8 days later after being taken off life support.

She is now buried in the same cemetery as my grandmother that appeared in my dream, who was my dads mom by the way.

R378, very interesting. Thanks for writing it all out.

My ex boyfriend was awful to me. He came from a dysfunctional environment in Hartford, Connecticut. He was a sex addict, prostitute, user, unemployable and just mentally abusive as fuck. He used me up, spiritually, mentally, financially...in every way. It took 5 years to get my freedom but I did. Early on in our relationship, he told me about his childhood in Connecticut. He told me about being bullied. Daily. He told me about being attacked and beat up. He told me about finally attacking one of his bullies and getting into trouble with the law. He told me about his dysfunctional family life. He told me how awful it was and how he often contemplated suicide. We spent hours talking about our fucked up childhoods. He also told me about going into the woods. And reading books on witchcraft and conjuring. Summoning demons. Offering to sell his soul for fame and fortune. He told me about pentagrams and candles. He told me about incantations and ancient texts. He told me, rather, implied, that there is power in these things. I took these as the follies of youth. Typical shit some Connecticut kid might do. Not typical for a black kid...but a Connecticut kid, sure.

One day, we were relaxing at my apartment. We were watching something on tv. Him on the right side of the bed, with his back against the headboard. Me on the left side, a little bit closer to the center of the bed. I happened to look over my left shoulder as we were talking...but my boyfriend wasn't there. Instead it was this...thing. It had huge curled horns and scaly skin. The eyes were yellowish, and its head was huge. It scared the FUCK OUT OF ME. It was a demon right out of a movie, but far worse. The mouth was small. It was and is by far the most terrifying thing I have ever seen in my life. But I was present enough to think immediately, no false moves. Do NOT let it know you see it. Pretend everything is ok. I was terrified. I shuddered the instant I saw it and it asked "are you ok" in my boyfriend's voice. I said "yeah, i'm fine" and got up and retreated into the bathroom, closing the door. I took deep breaths...trying to reconcile what I saw. I wasn't high. I have never been prone to hallucinations. I turned on the water and just tried to calm down. This could not be true. I did not see this...thing. My logical mind tried to convince myself. I am blessed with a few gifts. But NOTHING like this had ever happened before. Or since.

After a while I got up the nerve to come back into the bedroom and my "boyfriend" was back. Everything was normal. My mind told me...yeah, you were stressed. Just seeing stuff. Everything is fine. Maybe you're going a little crazy. But deep down, I suspected I was trying to calm myself. I know and would swear on loved ones, I saw a demon before me.

Years later, I finally got him out of my life. But I wondered as one might, how he was. He was fucking awful to me, but I was still curious. While together, we had played with the "Porn name generator" from way back in the day and I remembered his name. He liked it so much he was using it as a handle for his prostitution. It didn't take long to find him. His background picture was an image of him. It had been doctored. It was colored red and definitely had a demonic vibe. But the thing that struck me....was the huge curled horns on either side of his head. It confirmed for me...he knew exactly what he was riding with. They were identical to the creature I saw.

I never believed you could actually sell your soul until then. He's recently resurfaced and I'm debating if I should tell him I saw. Part of me wants to tell him, he better make it right before he dies. But I know, its hold is much too strong to allow that to happen. But I think, I probably will tell him. I am going to ask him its name.

R383 if you do, let us know what happens. That is one creepy as fuck story

I have been reading up on this the past few days r383. I believe you and your timing is great.

Damn, R383. That's some Guillermo del Toro shit.

I would give his name on Twitter...the Prostitution account so you could see for yourself, but I don't want to out THEM or myself. I didn't realize while we were together it was feeding off me. Like I said, I was broken down in every way. Weak in health, spirit, finances, mentally. I was being drained. The truth IS stranger than fiction.

My experience falls under the "people who are ostensibly human but don't have a human vibe category."

When I was around 16, I was in the backseat of my family's car driving to my grandparents' house in Brooklyn. We were on Court Street (in the vicinity of that United Artists multiplex) when I looked to my right and noticed a strange figure on the sidewalk. Anyone who knows this area knows that it's super busy, and this was on a weekend afternoon when there was a lot of hustle and bustle. It would be unusual for one individual to jump out at me like that.

He looked like an adolescent boy, but his entire coloring was "off." It was as though he was less saturated than everyone else -- like his complexion and clothing were on some kind of grayscale. He was also running erratically through crowds of people, yet no one seemed to notice him at all.

But what was really unsettling is that every time I looked at him, he would look back at me, and flash a creepy, wry smile. All the while, still running like a spaz. Out of morbid curiosity, I wanted to figure out if he was really noticing me or if it was just a coincidence. I would repeatedly look away, and look back at him, and each time he turned his head and locked eyes with me. Thankfully, my car finally turned a corner and he was gone from my sight.

I know this essentially amounts to "I saw a creepy kid on the street" and it hardly competes with "my boyfriend was a demon," but whatever, it was weird AF. He exuded some type of demented, other- worldly vibe that I can't describe. And his whole coloring was so washed out. Pretty sure I was the only person who saw him.

R388, I was driving in bumper to bumper traffic in Royal Oak, Michigan, with a good friend. We were blabbing about our days when all the sudden my friend shushed me. I kept driving and she had a similiar experience to yours except it was a girl. I saw nothing. Part of the time we were near a streetside cemetery. This friend was no ghosthunter. I believe you and it was creepy.

r383, did your ex ever achieve any kind of fame or fortune? You mention he's a prostitute but is he a noted porn star or anything? I just wondered if he could get out of his deal if he didn't get the fame/fortune he was promised for selling his soul. Very creepy story and you told it well. Please do NOT link his account here. I don't even want to have the link on my computer!

[R390] No Scaredy Mary. He's done bit parts in two or three major motion pictures and a skit on a late night talk show. An episode of a basic cable show, that actually started to get a little notoriety for being provocative. A little bit of print work modeling too. Loads of free, off Broadway stuff. But no real success fame wise or monetarily. Well....there is one MAJOR thing. He's been a muse for a VERY famous artist whose work is displayed in a PROMINENT institution. So there's that.

True Life in Brooklyn

R88 crossover from a different dimension?

....

R26, The lower degrees are kept ignorant and philanthropic.

Mmmmmmm

That’s horrific r27

What straight guys go through to get some...

Creepy that this five year old thread was bumped after what happened to me this morning:

I had a falling out with a good friend of mine 14 years ago. Clean break, never spoke to each other again.

Last night I had a dream about him, that we ran into each other in our old hometown. The situation - that we hadn’t spoken in many years — was the same in the dream, and we were happy to see each other. We hugged and said goodbye, without exchanging contact info.

I woke up this morning feeling melancholy about him. I know he’s not on social media (I’ve tried looking him up before), so I googled his name, which is not a common one.

He died three days ago. I’m still trying to process it.

R398 I posted this in another thread but had something similar. A very good friend (I considered her my second mom) that had ALS. I got to see her before she died, and it was striking seeing how the disease had spread so fast, though she could still get around with a walker, etc. A few months later I was in the Middle East for work. Middle of the night as I was sleeping / in the middle of a dream, everything switched. I was suddenly standing in her old house and she was next to me with her arms around me and her daughter. She smiled and said she was going to miss me.

That did it - I woke myself up crying. It was 2:15 am Abu Dhabi time. I walked around a little bit, then went to work, where I got an email from her daughter. She said to call her, so I did. Turns out her mom had died at 2:30 pm their time, which was 2:30 am Abu Dhabi time. Turns out my friend had come to say goodbye to me before she left this mortal coil.

Scary, OP.