A truly scary story

Not exactly closure, but it's close: http://www.unexplained-mysteries.com/forum/lofiversion/index.php/t29962.html

The story of Ted and his cave is based on a short story by Thomas Lera called 'The Fear of Darkness'. You can read the entire story here: http://www.zenadsl6236.zen.co.uk/Thefearofdarkness.pdf

Around 1996 we started renting a house in Conyers, GA in a pretty nice neighborhood of houses that were built around the mid seventies. The house was a brick ranch surrounded by fairly thick woods. The owner told us that she had bought it from a woman who's husband had died of a heart attack in the bathtub. We lived there for about four months and it was nice but when I was outside mowing the lawn I always felt like I was being watched from the house, even when my wife and son were not there. Several times when I was the only one at home I thought I saw the shadow of someone moving in the hallway but there was nothing there when I checked. We had a cat but it was not her as she was usually with me in the living room when this happened. I started having trouble sleeping and our son started waking us up crying at night. He had moved from the crib to a regular bed by then so my wife started sleeping in the bed with him to get him over what ever phase he was going through. The second night she woke me up with her screaming. I ran into the other room and she was hysterical about seeing a man standing in the room. We ended up with all three of us in the master bedroom for the rest of the lease and I don't think I got more than 2 hours of sleep a night till we moved. The cat did not want to be anywhere except near us. I'm not really scared of much except heights and tight spaces and I'm 50/50 on the whole ghost thing but I'm not ashamed to admit that was one of the worst periods in my life. It creeps me out to this day. This whole thread has creeped me out.

i ain't scared of E36 M3, but after reading this thread i'll probably have some wacky dreams tonight. bastards.

When I was young(from ages 11 to 18)and living with my father we lived in an old,two story,farm house(also with a basement and an attic) in the middle of the sticks.It had been built in 1856 and had been added on to sometime in the 1960's.It was about a quarter of a mile South of a very old cemetery,naturally,and in a very neglected state.The whole house had a strange and very ominous vibe.It sat on a large lot that also had a morton building,a small barn and a detached root cellar.At some point in the past the attic had burned but it had not spread to the rest of the house,it had a very strong campfire smell.My room was upstairs and the fireplace ran up through it to the roof,the bricks were covered with plaster and cheesy wall paper.Whenever I was near the Northwest corner of the house I always felt as if someone was right behind me.It's hard to explain the feeling,there is a sort of "pressure" I feel if someone is too close.Of course there was never anyone there when I turned around.I could be alone outside in any other area on a moonless night,barely able to see,and I would be perfectly comfortable so long as I was not near that corner. My father,who is a very religious man and a former Baptist Minister,began hearing noises every now and then that he could not identify.He is also a former Marine and Vietnam vet so his first course of action was to stash weapons in various places along with a few mini-recorders he had left over from his days as a cop and investigator.The sounds that the recorders picked up were the usual "Ghost Hunters" fare;foot steps,thumps squeaky floors and creaking hinges in an area upstairs that had no doors.He shared these sounds with my brother and I and needless to say we were thoroughly freaked out even though I was(and am) a very staunch skeptic with all things "supernatural". A few weeks later I was awakened by some very loud noises.Directly above my bed it sounded like someone was walking in circles in the attic,stomping their feet as hard as they possibly could.I got up and moved to the door way that led into the hall that joined mine,my father's and my brother's rooms,none of which had doors.I could see them both sleeping soundly even though the stomping was hard enough to reverberate through the entire upper floor.After about 20 minutes it finally subsided but I did not return to bed,I sat against the wall and fell asleep there. In the morning my father woke me and I explained what had happened.He promptly picked up some sort of oil and borrowed a handful of bibles from the church we attended and scattered the bibles around the house and anointed the attic.I didn't witness the next "occurrence" but we all saw the evidence of it.Along the entire length of the chimney section that passed through my room there were scratches that seemed to lead from about four and a half feet above the floor all of the way to the ceiling.They were quite deep and it made me think of what it would look like if an ice ax were somehow used to scale the chimney. At this point we all moved into the same room(oddly enough it was the one with the weapon cabinet) and set up a sort of perimeter with bibles.All that happened for a few days were the noises and uneasy feelings. One night my dad hears a thump and wakes to see me picking myself up from the floor in the doorway.He assumed I must have tripped on something on the way back from the bathroom,he told me later.He flicks on a flashlight and shines it toward me and asks me if I'm okay.He shines the light upward and sees a look of pure malice and rage then says"Son,what's wrong?" He happens to glance over to where my sleeping bag is and there I am snoozing away.He quickly looks back toward the door way and it is empty save for a bible that was on the floor.He assumed that my doppelganger,or whatever you want to call it,tripped over the bible. That was the last time anything was seen but the noises continued.We would have moved out,if we could have afforded to do so;the rent was $250 per month and at the time paying that was a struggle.I was 15 when it all went down and I recently went back with my wife to visit( I believe I had not told her what had happened,not sure though)and she freaked out.She is very sensitive to things of this nature and said she felt a very angry presence,especially near the cemetery.I'd like to go back some time with a paranormal investigator and see what they can come up with.

Wow The Jed, that's some creepy E36 M3, as are all the stories in this thread .

only "Ghost" story I ever had was when I was about 16 or so and my folks were out late and my bro and sis were at my Grandmas, so I am all alone. Its probably ~9pm in the fall so its pretty dark by then, but not full on night. Im in the kitchen fixing a sandwich or what not, and I look out the big bay window in the wall behind the counter, and I see what appears to be the light of a flashlight moving as if someone were walking through our 3/4 acre back yard about 15 yards behind our house. I took several (maybe 10-20) seconds to watch it and make sure I was seeing what I was seeing. I even turned the light in the kitchen off to make sure I wasnt seeing some weird reflection. I went to the back door litterally 3 feet away and opened it to yell at whoever it was to leave, but there was no one or thing there. In the less than 1 second it took for me to get from the window to the door and open it, theres no way anyone couldve left the area or hidden in that time (theres no trees or anything in that area at all). I didnt think much of it at the time, but I now remember that the light was not generating a beam or illuminating anything, but definitely looked like a flashlight. never could really explain it, and it never happened again. But it wasnt one of those "saw it from the corner of my eye" stories. I reaaally am quite certain I saw what I saw. It lasted at least 10 seconds which is plenty long enough to really analyze what I was seeing. I ate in my bedroom with all the lights on and the doors all locked that night. After talking to my mom about it, she recalled a story from about 14 years prior where she saw spot of light - kinda purplish and about the size of a softball - in that same area move quite fast from the ground up into the sky in a tight spiral motion. Same thing, not out of the corner of her eye, but she looked straight at it and it was night time and there were no lights on in the room, so it wasnt any reflection. But Ive never experienced any malicious activity...thankfullly

I have one from about 10 years ago.

Those that have been to Atlantic City have surely seen the hanger like building that sits next to the Trump Plaza at the end of the Expressway. This building is Atlantic City's Convention Hall. Once the largest freestanding space (no support pillars) in the world and still home to the largest pipe organ.

Not too long ago they redid the interior, detonating and taking down the upper level of the stadium seating and building it up in a more modern style and adding more amenities. One of these were more modern and larger battrooms. Shame, I loved the old marble ones.

Anyway, I was there at 6am in the morning to do a job. While I was there my morning constitutional hit and I went to one of the new modern restrooms.

So I am sitting down, having some private time when suddenly the room went dead silent and a chill (this is summer) filled the circular room. In the stall next to me, the toilet flushed, then the urinal across the way, then another toilet, then another, then another. Hop, skipping, and jumping all around me as I sat rather defenselessly with my pants down around my ankles.

5 minutes later, it warmed up, the regular building sounds returned, and the toilets, urinals, and sinks stopped flushing.

I have not been to that restroom since.

wow! that was an impressive constitutional! :)

gimpstang wrote: wow! that was an impressive constitutional! :)

No E36 M3!

The_Jed wrote: I was 15 when it all went down and I recently went back with my wife to visit( I believe I had not told her what had happened,not sure though)and she freaked out.She is very sensitive to things of this nature and said she felt a very angry presence,especially near the cemetery.

The first time you took me there, I didn't know any of the details about the house.

I also wanted to add my little blip of an experience to Jed's story: First off, I am not easily scared and I love old cemeteries. As Jed said, I tend to be very hypersensitive about energy and outside feelings. If there is a lot of tension in a room, I am generally the first to leave, because it quickly becomes overwhelming and makes me feel nauseous.

From my journal entry about the experience: Tonight Jed finally took me to see his boyhood home in Brussles. The house itself seemed like it had a lot of character and charm, but it was hard to see much from the road. The town was pretty neat, just a small country town, the kind that don't exist in central IL. Jed had wanted to surprise me by taking me to the cemetery that was across the road from his former home to explore. Apparently it is older than the one I frequent in Carbondale. However, in the 1/4 mile (ish) stretch between the house and the cemetery, I began to feel something that seemed to be pure evil. I have never had this feeling before. It was as if something wanted us dead, and would make it happen had we entered the cemetery. The feeling lasted until we got a few miles away from the cemetery. Once I had fought off the feeling and gotten my panic under control, Jed confessed what his plans were and told me about the cemetery. When he started to talk, the feeling of panic came back, almost as strong as it had been when we were near the place. He told me he had to tell me some more about his former home when we were safely in our home. He told me about a haunting that had occurred in his home around the same time he had went for a walk in the cemetery as a teen.

I made him swear that he would never go back to that cemetery. I fully believe that something there has malicious intent for him, and maybe for me.

Not as exciting as the actual haunting that occurred in Jed's house, but definitely the scariest experience of my life.

I've read a bit about the supernatural for years. When I was a kid I was scared to death of stuff like that so I read as much as I could. It helped. I'm not scared of that anymore.

One thing I do remember is that it seems you have to have a bit of ability to see, hear, and feel ghosts, presences, or recorded happenings such as the death of an individual or other charged event.

I've had lights go off and on around me ever since I was a kid. All in empty houses.

At our old house, I heard my wife in the shower while I was still half-sleeping in the bed. Then I felt someone sit on the bed next to me (this was before we had cats). Another day, I heard her leave, and the bed (which was on rollers) straightened itself against the wall. At other times, We'd hear furniture move in another room, and when you would go out there, a chair would have moved a few inches.

There was also a "ghost cat" that would run around, but shortly after we got our 1st cat, she disappeared.

From what I understand, prior to me moving into the house, when her sister still lived there, a lot more weird stuff happened.

We live in a house that's close to 100 years old.

Lights go on and off for no reason occasionally..

It was really frequent when we first moved in but after 5 years it's settled down quite a bit, probably hasn't happened in about 8-10 months now.

Our old roommates were wiccan and claimed the house was haunted, I've never believed in any of that mumbo-jumbo so I was pretty skeptical. If the place is haunted, it just didn't like them because it's gotten better since they left.

I just put it down to sketchy wiring in an old house. The rest of my family doesn't agree with me.

Shawn

Damn guys, i didn't complete reading any of your stories.

I was in the UK on vacation a long while ago and stayed at a hotel in London. Me and the front desk guy hit it off good and we would talk about life in general.

I mentioned that I was thinking of going on one of those London ghost tours. He gave me the advice of "you don't want to go on those tours" and that "they will show you what to look for". "All the innocent things that never bothered you will now show up, do you really want to identify stuff like that forever?". Essentially what has been seen cannot be unseen. From then on, I seriously reconsidered opening any doors that led to the supernatural. He was black and he grew up in a culture of voodoo. We talked about all the truly evil stuff he has seen and I think he is very right. Some things should not be in your life.

shuttlepilot wrote: Essentially what has been seen cannot be unseen.

I agree 100%...

Ive never felt uneasy or creeped out or anything like that (spirit related anyway...finances are another story) with regards to my house...that is until last night. Its ~midnight, and Im still working on the total reno in the master bath. The wifes already in bed. Well, I clean up and head for the spare bath to get cleaned up. Im in the shower, and I started to think how silly that dumb cave story was, then I thought about some of the other personal stories on here, and especially the hooded girl in the Chicago apartments. I swear, the rest of the time I was in there, I thought I heard footsteps, and expected to see a shadow or something approach the shower curtain, or the lights to go out or something oddball like that. Its not unusual for the things I read here to pervade my thoughts at random times throughout the day, but in this instance, I was less than enthused. Thanks guys...really

I'm 38, and I have never had any "supernatural" experinces, and despite being from Georgia, have never seen a flying saucer, and to the best of my personal knowledge, as well as goverment medicine, my backside is unprobed.

However....

As a young kindergardden aged lad, my famly lived in a relatively new apartment development in Taylors SC. My room on the 2nd floor had a large window I remember having a ledge big enough for me to sit on. My mother put plants in there to get good afternoon light. The streetlight for the parking lot was just outside the window and at night would cast a shadow against the opposite wall of my room. I could see the outline of the plants.

Most nights there would be a translucent shadow of a person. Not an actual shadow, but more like a glass of water. I remeber it distinctly. I would try to look quickly from the shado back to the windo to cath whoever was looking in. On several occasions I ran to the window to see the ladder that had to be there. This was the operation of my boyhood imagination.

I honestly never though about it until years later my mother was telling stories of living there to a friend. Her and my dad were notrious about leaving the TV on. Back then, stations stopped broadcasting after the tonight show. You'd get the national athen and then fuzzy any farm until 5 or 6 AM. More time than not, the TV would just turn off. This is pre-remote control, the on/off knob was the same as the volume knob and required some effort. My mothers keys would routinely disapper and re-appear in bizzare placs, like the center of the closed toilet lid. When my Dad traveled, my mother refused to sleep upstairs and would sleep on the couch. She can't be sure she wasn't dreaming, but she heard footsteps come down the stairs, stopping short of the bottom and a womans voice "Ann...go to bed."

Once, I was awaked by my mother voice telling me it was time to get up, and a playful slap on my thigh. I awoke and saw nothing, and assumed my mother was in my closet getting my clothes. So I got up, went dowstairs and watched Sesame Street, the The Electric Compnay, then the gameshows started, finally the soaps when my mother finally came downstairs. She asked why I was up and I told she had woke me. This bothered her a bit. Until later she had never heard the stories of the shadow in my room.

Although, I have to say, it never felt evil, just malicious. My mother was scared, nut never feared for her safety. I learned her and my Dad accepted this and even gave "her" (my mom insisted it was female) a name, Shasta.

Thats my story. I have never felt or seen anything since, I am not sensitive to this kinda thing, but to this day I still swear, we lived with a ghost.

mad_machine wrote: (scary dump story)

Reminds me of a story a cousin told me. He's a notorious bullE36 M3ter, but this is a ghost story thread so I dunno how much that matters

Back when he was a 'beat cop' he was at some crime scene in an apartment building, some really nasty neighborhood. He was about to leave when he went to take a leak in one of the building's public bathrooms and his partner told him about how they found a guy murdered in there once. Everyday stuff for cops I suppose. Anyhow after taking a leak, when he started to wash his hands, the lights started flickering and the faucets all started turning themselves on and off in sequence, heading towards him Naturally he ran out of there like a bat out of hell and told his partner. When they looked back the lights were fine and the taps were all off. If true, I bet it took him a while to live that one down

Mental wrote: Although, I have to say, it never felt evil, just malicious. My mother was scared, nut never feared for her safety. I learned her and my Dad accepted this and even gave "her" (my mom insisted it was female) a name, Shasta. Thats my story. I have never felt or seen anything since, I am not sensitive to this kinda thing, but to this day I still swear, we lived with a ghost.

Sounds like a Mom doing her best to keep you guys straight.

Ran across another good one in the same SA thread:

Republicanus said: Well, back in 1986 I was slowly figuring out that I was too lazy to finish my CSE degree in Northern Arizona University, located at Flagstaff, Arizona. Between lovely jobs selling Kaypro luggables for laughably low commission and losing my scholarships due to the aforementioned laziness, I spent most of my time hitting the bars. Sometimes I'd go out camping with a girl on a whim, kept a tent and camping equipment in my trunk so I could easily impress whoever with my "impusive nature" etc. I had a routine, really, and it worked well - sometimes we'd go camping, sometimes we'd go hiking. I'd get laid, two weeks later I'd do the old "see other people" routine and hit the bars again for a new gal. I'd picked up on a rather nice gal, physics major, around the middle of October that year. We had fun and one evening I pulled the ole' "let's go camping it is so impulsive" routine and decided to head out north-west of town. After I got away from Flagstaff I followed a random fire-road off the left hand side of the road. It was early evening, so things were getting dark as we set up the tent and firepit. The road wasn't well maintained, hell, it had some small bushes growing in the center that were higher than my hood, so we had walked in a ways before we had found a nice clearing. Out comes the wine and she had a joint, so within a couple hours we decided to scout around. I remember that the moon was full a few days before and was waning, so there was a decent amount of light. We went about 300 yards, following what we thought was the fire access road until it dead-ended near a rotten tarpaper & vinyl-sided shack that had some huge holes kicked in the outer walls, no glass, and an annoying amount of trash. A pretty good-sized sapling was growing near the center of the track we followed, so it had to have been abandoned for at least a few years. Wasn't very big, but then my date said, "Hey, looks like someone dropped some stuff" and picked up a small paper sack, looked inside, then went "Eeeeww" and started to laugh as she threw it away. I asked what was up and she said that it had some "biotrash" in it - it was full of "overly used" maxipads. We wandered off into the woods, circling around a bit downslope to head back. On the way we found a small firepit with what looked to be fresh ash and charred wood. It fronted a view of a meadow about 50 yards away. But then I saw another firepit off to my right about 5 yards away. We both started for it and I remember scratching the back of my hand on what I thought was a branch as I walked forward. Then she looked over and kind of screamed a bit. I was standing next to a tree (ponderosa pine all through there) and I turned to look at it. I had evidently brushed against a hatpin. The hatpin had what I thought was some sort of doll that it was sticking to the tree trunk. But what it actually was kind of freaks me out to this day. It was a very large grey squirrel that was impaled through the skull with the hatpin. Someone had dressed it in doll clothes as well (white and yellow dress). There were at least 3 others, dressed in various tiny clothes, all impaled with long pins and stuck to the trunks of trees at about waist-height. They were fresh, only a day or two old. After some very uncomfortable minutes of sheer terror, we packed up & drove back to town. On the way back, my gf mentioned that there had to be at least ten "overly" used pads in that bag she had picked up. This did not make me feel any better about our date since I figured that either there was a bunch of violently menstrating women with anti-rodent fetishes, or that someone used them to soak up blood from a wound or two. Never went camping again up there.

'Nuther good one!

The 3F Rule said Apr 24, 2007 start whistlin' You berkeleyers. This thread just reminded me of something I haven't thought about in 20 years. Creepiest thing that's ever happened to me. My room in the house I grew up in is the last room at the end of a 25 or so foot hallway. Across the hall is the living room, and down at the opposite end of the hallway is my parent's room. Important later. This was probably my first year or second year in high school (early 80's), and I was getting some poo poo together for class the next day. My folks, as far as I knew, were watching TV in the living room. It was probably 10:30 PM or so. I'm banging some stuff around in my desk, putting a typewriter away or something, when I pretty clearly hear my dad say "Be careful in there!" What? That makes no sense to me, so I say it out loud; "What?" No answer. So I open the door. "What did you s-". All the lights in the house are off except for mine. My folks are in bed, door shut, 25 feet away. No way I could have heard that. Wow, I must be really tired to be imagining that poo poo, I'm thinking. But now the hair on the back of my neck is standing up a little bit, and I'm listening hard for any little noise in the house. Nothing. Completely quiet. I don't have the radio or the TV on. A couple of minutes go by, I've pretty much forgotten about it, and I'm finishing up the last couple of things I need to do before I hit the sack. As I'm walking past the foot of my bed toward my dresser, from out of the floor and all around me comes what I can only describe as "the Stephen King noise". My best try at describing the noise is a very deep, low, slowly rising moan/groan straight out of a horror flick. It sort of sounded human, but at the same time, not. And here's the thing. It was LOUD. It went on for what seemed like a minute, but was probably only a couple of seconds because I was frozen to the spot, and loving horrified. Every hair on my body was standing straight up, and I had goose bumps all over. I'm getting goose bumps thinking about it right now. I'm not ashamed to tell you that at this point I screamed about as loud as I ever have in my life, and took off like my rear end was on fire. I'd have made a lot better time if I could have worked the door handle on the first try, but I was so spooked that I couldn't do it. I yelled so loud that I woke my folks out of a dead sleep and my dad got to his bedroom door about the same time I did. I was so scared I was incoherent, and it took a good 10 minutes to calm down enough to explain just what the hell the problem was. Once I did get the story out, I'm sure my dad thought I was on crack, so he asked me to show him exactly what happened. I wasn't too psyched about that idea, but by then I'd calmed down enough to go back in there, with him right behind me. Big mistake. As I'm reenacting the story, I walk by the same spot in the room, and it loving DOES IT AGAIN, with my dad standing right there. The scariest part about the whole thing was the look of horror on his face. I only saw the look for a second, because I was setting a new land speed record getting the hell out of there. Afterward, long story short (too late): Later, went outside looked around, dad suggests maybe the tree was rubbing on the rain gutter (what?) Both of us thought maybe friends were loving with us. No one ever owned up, plus how'd they make that noise? I thought "maybe the floorboards were creaking" - couldn't reproduce it, wrong tone, too sustained. I never did figure it out. Dad now claims he doesn't remember it. Mom does. I didn't sleep in that room for months. Still creeps me out.

Moar:

m00face said: Just adding my own weird story. One summer a good few years ago, I was out babysitting one night. After I was finished, I got a lift back to the house sometime after midnight. It was raining pretty heavily and there was thunder and lightning. I had left the house without keys so was hoping that one of my friends who I shared the house with would still be awake. I tried ringing the bell to no avail and then started throwing pebbles at my friend's window. Then I heard her call my name in a really weird, dreamy way. I expected her to open the window but she didn't. Then I heard my name 2 more times. I assumed my friend was talking in her sleep or something. I went out back and sheltered in the basement for a while (it was separate from the main house so I could get into it OK). It was creeping me out somewhat though so I came back out after a while. I was standing just near the back door when I heard my friend say: "where are you? are you in the basement?". It sounded like she was in the kitchen, walking up to the door. I was really relieved and said "oh, no, I was but I'm just outside now." I expected her to open the door but nothing happened. I hung round for another 20 minutes, getting slightly creeped out. Then, my friend arrived home from her own babysitting job. There had been nobody in the house the whole time. The weirdest thing is the voice sounded exactly like her - we were living in the US at the time but we're both Irish so the accent matched and everything. Creepy

I had an experience similar to this once...luckily not nearly as terrifying and I knew it was due to stress. Saw some freaky flying giant colored snowflake swarms the same night. That's what you get for coding for three days straight with little sleep I guess.

LastAshenHero said: I certainly don't consider it an "unsolved mystery" or anything, and I figured something similar to the above replies, about just conditioning myself to notice it, but Jesus Christ, I hate the creeping dreads. Fun story, since my sleeping patterns are wonderful: When I was 20, I had recently dropped out of college/hated life/moved in with my parents. I had a ton of stress in my life, and had lovely sleeping episodes all the time. That was the time in my life when I first experienced a "night terror." For people who have never had one, thank something divine for it. While I'm sure there's a long winded comprehensive explanation for what happens to trigger it, it is essentially a nightmare that continues when you wake up. I can still remember the whole episode clear as day. I wake up, feel a little paralyzed, similar to the 3:33 thing. Suddenly, I know, just know, that there is some... "thing" on the other side of the room, sitting on the desk, watching me. I can't see it, I just feel it. It's tiny, humanoid, and very loving still. So, like any reasonably 20 year old, I began screaming for my parents at the top of my lungs. And I mean screaiming. Like, lost my damned mind screaming. They come bolting into my bedroom, thinking I broke my leg or was being murdered or something, and find their oldest child sitting in his bed, pointing frantically at the opposite end of the room, tears running down his cheeks, blabbering incoherently. I can remember them coming in, and I remember the "thing" that I was seeing/not seeing moving loving closer once they got in. They had no idea what the gently caress was going on. I get even more hysterical, if that's possible, because now it's coming towards me, floating gently on some unseen current. I begin backing up forcefully, hitting my head/back/arms against the wall, trying to back away from it, while pointing frantically, begging my parents to see it. It settles on the foot of my bed, and I can't get any closer to the wall. My dad grabs my arms and pins me to the bed, frustrated, not understanding why I keep asking them if they can see it. I struggle for about 5 minutes, and finally start to calm down. The "thing" isn't there anymore, and I'm calm enough to eventually talk about what happened. They calm down a bit when they realize what it was, and it's never happened since then. Yeah, gently caress night terrors.

Damn, I really believe that I won't be able to sleep tonight. I'm with whoever called out Top Gear to calm down. This is why I don't watch horror movies.

This is an excellent gently carressing thread.