There's a scary moment, and then there's an utterly terrifying encounter. There's a big difference, and these people know from first-hand experience. From chilling secrets to horrifying sights, there’s little difference between these experiences and a twisted horror movie. So turn off the lights and steel yourself as these brave souls dare to relive the most petrifying moments of their entire lives.
When I was 11, my friend and I were walking through the woods when he said he had something he wanted to show me. We walked down the path for a good twenty minutes until he suddenly stopped in a clearing.
There was a round mud hut. My friend told me he was too scared to go inside so I went instead. The floor was lower down then the floor itself and there was a little fire put in the center. It was surrounded by a rustic wooden bench. But the real showstopper was the walls: every inch or the mud walls were covered in animal skulls held up by wire.
These skulls ranged in size from small sparrow skull to a deer skull. Outside of the hut was another small bench, which had the phrase “Where heaven and earth meet” carved into it. After I got home, my mom wouldn't believe what I'd seen. A few weeks later, I tried to show her, but when I found it, my blood ran cold. The hut had been destroyed. All but a few of the skulls had been taken. To this day, it's still a mystery.
I was on a camping trip with some friends of mine and we found like seven or eight chipmunks and squirrels all in a pile. They were all dead, without arms or legs.
A 58-year-old man living alone in Japan started hearing noises at night and noticing things out of place in his house. He installed video cameras. Turns out a homeless woman had been living in his attic and cupboards for almost a YEAR in his house, undetected. This is why I get freaked out when I hear things at night.
There's a section of Joshua Tree National Park called Samuelson's Rocks where an old Swedish prospector who lost his mind used to live. He carved all sorts of crazy sayings into the rocks. During the day they look pretty neat. At night in a lightning storm, they look like something of Lovecraft.
A girl I dated used to work at a home improvement store and there was this middle-aged guy who used to come in regularly and hang around the store and talk to her. He seemed a little slow and clingy, but harmless.
He would always address her by name and say that she was pretty. Then one day he was in the store as they were closing and he saw a male coworker give her a hug before he left. The next day that male coworker woke up to find his tires slashed in his driveway. No one made any connection to the nice middle-aged guy who came in to buy batteries five times a week.
Meanwhile, this girl had been noticing that she was always losing underwear at home. She just assumed that she had been losing them in the wash or simply misplacing them and thought nothing of it. She even joked about it with her mom. Then it happened. She was sleeping one night and woke up to find this guy standing silently over her bed, staring down at her with her panties pressed against his face.
She flipped the heck out and he ran out the sliding glass door on the back of the house. The same unlocked door that, as they found out once he was caught, he had been coming into night after night for months to watch her sleep.
I work as an autopsy technician. It’s pretty regular happening, and doesn’t really phase me now, but the first time I heard remains exhale and moan was pretty creepy.
I was driving through rural parts of Missouri with a buddy. We drove down a single lane road that had no exit. At the end of the road, there was a group of deer carcasses laid in a perfect circle. I'd say there were at least 10 of them. Suffice to say, we bolted out of there real quick.
A little over 18 years ago, I had just gotten out of the military. After visiting my hometown in Montana, I got back on the road and drove to my next base at Boise, Idaho, deciding to cut across the panhandle of Idaho into Washington instead of going down the highway which is pretty twisty and dangerous in the winter when the roads are icy.
After driving for a while, I entered Washington early on a foggy Sunday morning. I really had to use the bathroom so I pulled into the next town I saw, called Linden or Linder or something. It was small but I thought nothing of it since I was from a small town in Montana. But as I left my car, my blood ran cold. There was not a single person to be found.
There were cars and business but not a single person to be found no one walking the street, no logging trucks, nothing. I stopped at a gas station, but no one was at the counter. I went around to the side to see if the bathroom was locked and it was. As I made my way back around to the front of the building, I saw a Coke Classic delivery truck. It wasn't moving, but its headlights were on, the hazard lights were on, and the passenger and driver side doors were open just sitting there in the middle of the street.
I was getting a bad vibe so I got in my car and went back the way I came. But even after I left, things managed to get even creepier. I've checked multiple maps, in print and online, and nothing by the name Linden or Linder exists. To this day, it still gives me the chills.
Found out that a girl who lives three hours away from me in Medicine Hat, Alberta, together with her boyfriend, killed her mother, father, and three-year-old brother. She was released from juvi a couple years ago and now goes to the same university as me. She was 12 years old when she did it.
When I was really young, we were on a family trip and my older brother and I took a ride on a boat. I remember my mom telling us to avoid the “big floating thing.” She thought it was a buoy to signal a dangerous rock underwater or something. Being kids, of course we went straight there to explore it. That decision still haunts me.
It was the body of a tourist that had gone missing a week before, as the police informed us a few days later. Creepy thing is, he was one of a group of people that had disappeared together. If I remember correctly, the remaining group members were never found.
I was walking with family when I was little and we came across a sheep’s head. No body, or blood, just a severed sheep’s head on the path. It was the first time I noticed sheep eyes have slit pupils and I think my first contact with something so gruesome.
I was walking on the beach with my boyfriend. We had walked to a giant rocky cliff to make out, or we planned to until we turned around and encountered a startling sight: Somebody was just gazing at the ocean, crying and shaking. Mind you, this is in the early evening, like around 7:30 pm. We asked him if he was okay, and he apologized and practically ran back down the cliff—away from the dangerous areas.
My boyfriend and I watched him until he reached the public area and decided to call it a night. I’m pretty sure he was going to jump.
There is a guy who became famous after being convicted of murder and cannibalism, and lives as a free man in Japan to this day.
When my uncle was young, he took a trip to the Grand Canyon with his friends. They were driving along and stopped near this area with hedges/brush on the side of the canyon and decided to take one of your standard funny Grand Canyon pictures. My uncle stood on the side of the canyon with a fishing rod, pretending to fish off the side of the canyon. After they snapped the picture, they packed up and drove off. When the photos were developed, they noticed something very strange.
In the picture, not far behind my Uncle, was a man dressed in all black with pale white skin just staring at the camera with a knowing smirk on his face. My Uncle and his friends claimed that they did not know this man, that they were the only ones in the spot, and the Grand Canyon was vacant of tourists at this time of year. They still know nothing about the man. The picture still exists to this day.
There is a recording of Jim Jones' speech during the night at Jonestown where the hundreds of people drank cyanide-laden juice and committed suicide. You can hear them dying in the background and his sheer delirium is absolutely chilling.
I was in a large wooded area not far from my boyfriend’s home. I was with him, hanging out nearly at midnight. We had gone in pretty deep and it required a good amount of climbing. The closest path was maybe five minutes climbing down, so it was highly unlikely someone could be at that spot, that time of the night, besides us.
As we were kissing, he thought he saw a shadow move about 20 or 25 feet to the left of us, climbing upward, but it stopped suddenly when my boyfriend looked at it. He told me to be wary, and at that exact moment we saw a dark figure climbing a little up but diagonally, like whatever it was was attempting to go directly above where we were.
We didn't move. We watch him till he closed the horizontal gap and was directly above us. Then he began to come towards us. Without skipping a beat, my boyfriend grabbed my hand and we almost ran downhill towards the path. We ran as fast as we could and made it out of the forest. We vowed never to go there at night again.
My boyfriend and I were backpacking through rural Tasmania a few years ago. While on a bus, we were discussing our plans for the next two weeks. The girl in the seat in front turned around and offers us a place to stay in her town. We decided to her up on her offer. We parted ways so that we could do some sightseeing and when we came back to meet her, immediately something felt off. It's really difficult to explain, but it was that primal, ineffable feeling in your guts that tells you that something isn't right. We ignored our guts and went with the girl and her boyfriend.
They lead us straight out of town to the outskirts. As we get further out, the houses get crummier, with boarded-up windows, overgrown gardens and no people in sight. Eventually we reached the house at the very end of the town. The set up in the middle of the living room was a single mattress with just a sheet hanging around it. They showed us around the house except for one door, which stayed closed. When I asked what was behind it, they pretended not to hear me.
Our room has a made bed, a chest of drawers, and looks like a normal room. It seemed weird that they slept on mattresses in the living room when they seemed to have a guest room. We went back into the living room and looked around. Knives. A lot of knives. My boyfriend asked if they went hunting a lot. They said no. The partner handed one of the knives to my boyfriend and asked him to open it.
It was a massive bowie knife, with what looked like blood staining around the edges of the blade. My boyfriend laughed awkwardly and set it down. They also had a tattoo gun “for practice.” My boyfriend asked if they have any tattoos. They said no. There was a small axe at the door. I asked if they collect wood. They said no. Suddenly the guy said he wanted to go to the shops.
We agreed quickly because, we were creeped out and wanted to get back into the town. The four of us left and they started walking in the opposite direction of the town. I said that the town was back the other way. The guy said his way would be more interesting because it goes up through the trees. I told my boyfriend that I was freaking out but he thought it was ok.
We followed them into the trees. I thought it couldn't get creepier, but I was so wrong. The girl turned around to her partner and whispered, “So, where was the place again?” My boyfriend and I froze. I said I wanted to take the road back to town and start walking. When the four of us arrived in the one shop in town, no one recognized the couple. And this is a really small town.
We made an excuse that we want to go look at sights and that we'll catch up with them later, and instead book a hotel room and freak out. I did some snooping on the area. Their house had an extra room—behind the mystery door—and a basement. The path that we were taking led straight out of town and up the mountain. There was no way it could loop back into town.
Edgar Allan Poe’s "The narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym" (1838) was about four shipwrecked survivors stranded in a boat before they killed and ate a cabin boy—Richard Parker. In 1884, a boat was stranded with only four survivors. Three of the men killed and ate the cabin boy, also named Richard Parker.
During a YMCA summer camp about 20 years ago, we were camping in tents in a forested area. It was the middle of summer, so it stayed bright until around 10 pm before it was fully dark. So we went on a night walk with the group and were about halfway into the forest when we noticed someone definitely not belonging to our group following us.
Suddenly, the camp leaders rushed us back to camp and put us into our tents for the night, with one leader staying up to watch us. Cue halfway through the night, and I woke up having to pee. I got out of the tent to walk to the bathroom and saw the leader who was supposed to watch us asleep in his chair by the campfire.
I looked around and saw that the guy following us earlier is peeking into one of the tents, while fumbling in a bag he has next to him. Screamed louder then I ever screamed in my life. The leaders wake up, jump the guy and hold him till the police arrive. Turns out he had a Taser, blindfold, rope and several knives in his bag.
A friend and I were walking around an abandoned barn in the woods, which, on its own is weird. But anyway, I stepped on a plank of wood with a nail in it, but my boot kept it from penetrating deep enough to enter my foot. Then, I noticed something off. It was about 20 yards from the barn, and filled with nails, like someone purposely did that, and covered it with leaves.
And there were a few more leading up to it. We did a 180 and got out of dodge.
I went camping by myself way out in the middle of nowhere in north central PA. As the sun was starting to set, I came upon a nice flat spot by a creek. As I got closer, I saw all sorts of stuff laying about: a tarp, stone fire ring, a log that had been chopped with an axe. I thought someone might already be camping here, but there was no backpack and no tent. But that was far from the strangest thing I saw that day.
There was this "cage" about four-foot square, made out of saplings tied together. It was framed where the edges of a cube would be, and then had cross bars diagonally on each face. But it wouldn't have kept anything inside because of how much open space there was, and obviously wouldn't have been very sturdy since it was only made from saplings.
I ended up setting up camp there because it was nearly dark and I didn't really have much choice unless I wanted to hike in the dark on an unrecognizable trail. All night I barely slept and as soon as the sun came up I packed up and got the heck out of there. I called the forest service and even sent them pictures. They told me it was probably some loner living out in the woods. But why the cage? It's going to drive me crazy, I know it is.
I was walking my dog through the woods and she'd find the odd bone, thought nothing of it, but then she ran towards a huge black sack and was going nuts for it, I open the bag and it's filled with bones. Sure it was weird, but I'm still like it must be hunters around or something. But then I walk a bit further and start seeing more and more bags, then a huge cluster of them, at least 20 of them, all filled with bones.
I decided my dog had a long enough walk after seeing that.
In Poland, we have a place called the Crooked Forest. Basically a pine forest, in which every tree is naturally bent in shape of C in the lower part, then grows upwards normally. Every single tree is bent in North direction. It is quite creepy when you just stand in the middle and you see all these weirdly bent trees around you.
I went to a small women's college in Virginia. I only stayed a semester because of the group mentality. They would constantly perform rituals that were not "mandatory," but you were weird if you didn't go. One alone wasn't weird, but collectively it was too much. Example: One founders’ day, everyone wore white.
We went to the chapel for the ceremony and then walked two miles to the graveyard, where the founders were buried. We all had to lay roses on the graves and sing the school's song. Four girls in my class tried to die by suicide in the first semester. My class only had 64 girls. It was an epidemic, but everyone was trying to keep it hushed up.
If you discussed transferring, the dean of students and the school's counselor would threaten to have you put in a mental hospital for 72 hours. I transferred in secret so no one would find out. I didn't even tell my friends. I would wake up at 4 am and transfer stuff from my dorm room to be shipped home. It was terrifying.
I was driving home after an extremely late night at work, I lived in the middle of nowhere, about a mile before I got there a woman covered in blood jumped out of the woods into the middle of the road screaming. I panicked and went around her, then slammed on the brakes to help. Her boyfriend had beaten her and was currently chasing after her in the woods.
I got her in my car and called the police, they met us at the hospital because I told them there was no way I was waiting on the side of the road when he was coming.
I was young at the time, so I didn't realize until after my family had left. Looking back on it, the way the community practically worshipped the leader, hanging on his every word whether it was what they should name their new baby or what movies were evil and would bring the devil into their lives really should have tipped me off.
The biggest red flag I can't believe I didn't realize at the time was when he decided one of the kids in the community was possessed and needed an exorcism. That kid was me. I won't bore you with the details, but remembering that years later is what made me finally realize "holy moly, that was a cult." I'm glad I got out.
I'd been at soccer practice with a few of my cousins when I was about 10 years old. We decided to take a walk before our parents picked us up, so we went along the canal towpath. My cousin looked down in the canal and saw a really nice jacket floating along, and being a weird scavenger person, he decided to reach in to fish it out.
Well, the jacket turned over. And so did the man wearing it. He also had no face left. Not going to lie, that was rough sight.
When I was seven, my parents sent me to a local summer camp that they would pick me up from in the afternoons. I never really liked it because the kids were mean, everything was either broken or not clean, and the counsellors obviously didn't care. I remember the girl's changing room had a door that led out to the woods, but the doorknob was gone so it was unlocked all the time and you could see into it.
This was primarily where the girls changed into their bathing suits, and there was usually someone blocking the view through the peephole while we changed so the boys couldn't look in. Well, one day I'm changing alone and someone wasn't blocking the door. I look over and see an eye peeping in through the hole watching me change.
I pull the rest of my clothes back on quickly and run out to tell my twin brother. I tell my dad that I don't want to go back to that camp anymore and he begrudgingly takes us out of the camp pretty soon after because he knew how much we hated it. Years later, the camp has been closed down for many many years and I'm asking my dad about it.
He gets really grim and tells me it shut down because of an assault in the woods right behind the girl's bathroom a few weeks after I had told him about someone watching me change.
The story of Felix Batista, an anti-kidnapping expert. Felix Batista was successful in negotiating the resolution to nearly 100 kidnapping cases, many of them in Mexico. So it made for an amusing headline when he himself was kidnapped in Mexico in 2008 while he was there to give a seminar on how to avoid being kidnapped.
Since then, no one has had any communication with him and no one has ever claimed responsibility for his kidnapping.
My friend and I had this really cool spot to hang out in the woods. You had to walk in the middle of a creek for a kilometer and duck through sharp bushes and thistles. The hike was well rewarding though. The spot was about half an acre big, it was pure green grass on an incline with beautiful clear water ponds everywhere.
One day, my friend Levi and I were to the spot. Suddenly, Levi stopped moving and ducked into a bush, I did the same because I thought there must have been a large animal somewhere. I saw him staring up the hill and so I looked up too. I felt a chill run down my spine. There were two people standing at the top of the hill heaving back and forth a lifeless body.
We watched as they threw the corpse down the hill. Then they took off. Levi and I were terrified and I was shaking so badly I couldn't speak. The next day we were with his parents driving to town. And we saw like 10 fire trucks at the school closest to the forest. Terrified, we told his parents, balling our eyes out worried that we were going to get murdered. His mom started laughing at us and said, “They are training for search and rescue, that was a dummy that the firemen had to find.”
I never slept as well as I did that night.
A few months ago I woke up around three in the morning and decided to go downstairs to the bathroom. When I opened my door and peeked over the stairs, I saw a bright light coming from my living room. Upon further inspection, I saw that the TV was on a channel that was all fuzzy. There was no one on the couch or anywhere in the vicinity.
I yelled out my mom’s name, and as soon as I made a sound, the TV turned off and my bathroom door slammed. I checked every nook and cranny of the bathroom and found nothing. That moment still haunts me to this day.
This is a very recent and local story as it happened at a middle school that I used to attend.
There was this janitor (though he actually left when I was still at the school) and substitute bus driver at our school that everyone loved. He would give all of the kids candy and show them around the areas of the school that kids weren't supposed to go (like the boiler room). I even heard that he ate dinner at a kid's house once.
Even after he left the school he would still visit sometimes just say hi to the kids. There were always some jokes that he was a pedophile, but everyone at the school loved him and thought that he was a great guy. Recently he was arrested for having thousands of explicit pictures and videos of children. Makes things pretty weird in hindsight.
When I was a kid, a drunken family member was in the basement and I was upstairs. He decided to start playing with guns. The gun goes off from downstairs. The bullet travels upstairs and misses me by about a foot or two—almost blew my head off. I still shudder thinking about it. I had just moved from where the bullet struck a minute or two before it happened.
One of four times in my 22 years where I really should have died but somehow didn't.
This was when I was around 12 or 13, back when my four cousins and me were little hellions. They lived out on a ranch and we would ride four-wheelers to a bunch of abandoned buildings in the country all the time. This one time we came across a bridge and decided to stop and enjoy the view. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the water in the river looked amazing rushing under the bridge. Then we noticed something strange.
There was a metal wire tied to the rail of the bridge and hanging down into the water. Of course, curiosity got the best of us, so we decide to pull it up and see what it was all about. We pull up a deer skull. A huge one too, with large antlers and everything. Mind you, this is not within the timeline of hunting season at all. Then my cousin says, “Look over there! “ We see what looks like an axe stuck in the middle of a tree stump down by the river.
We walk to the end of the bridge and hike our way down to the river and low and behold, this is not an axe, it was a deer’s leg that had been chopped off and stuck in the dead center of the tree stump, pointing straight up at the sky. We rushed back to the top of the bridge and decided there was no way a deer died by itself and put its leg in a tree stump and tied its skull to a metal wire. We come to the realization that someone is hunting out of season.
Suddenly, as two of my cousins are discussing whether to take the head with them or not (they thought it was super cool but it smelled absolutely horrible), we see some hillbilly looking men step out onto the porch of a house up on the hill. They are holding rifles. They see that we’ve pulled up the wire with the deer skull and start running down the hill at us. We never rode our four-wheelers so fast! We booked it out of there! We made it back to the ranch and told our parents about it.
In the 60s and 70s, there existed an urban legend in Poland that vampires in black limousines were kidnapping people, preferring little children. It was a tale parents told their kids, who would then tell their friends etc. Turns out it was a rumor that was spread by the polish secret police who actually used black cars to kidnap people. The aim was that no one would believe someone who would report they had witnessed a kidnapping.
I was 16 years old with my first girlfriend; we'll call her Megan. So I'm having this dream where I'm the "Walter White" of a big drug operation. Megan is heavily against drugs so naturally, I didn't tell her. One night in my room, I look out the window and she's there mortified, watching me while holding up a bag of drugs "that I made."
I panicked the heck out and just shot her. Now the weird part is a few days go by, and out of the blue, she wants to talk to me. She tells me about a dream she had, which happened to be my exact dream from her POV. I was stunned. I still haven't told her my side to this day.
For the last several years in Toronto, gay men have gone missing in the Village. The community was convinced it was a serial killer on the loose, but the police said no, these murders and disappearances are unrelated. Turns out that's totally the case and the guy was killing gay men, dismembering them and burying them in and around the properties he was working at as a groundskeeper/landscaper.
I have an eight-year-old niece and a 14-year-old niece. My sister (their mother) is a single mom with a low paying job, so my brother and I play the part of cool uncles who take them to do fun stuff. One summer we decide to go on a cruise. It was awesome. We went to Mexico and hit the beach. After swimming for a little while we were gonna go sightseeing and grab some lunch. We all decided to change on the beach at the gender divided changing rooms. I changed and was outside the female changing area waiting on my girls when a dude walked out.
White guy, probably late 20s, with a weird chin-strap beard and bottle-blonde hair. I thought, "Odd—this is the girls changing room." Then I noticed something in his hand. It appeared like it may have been some kind of miniature spy camera. Now I will readily admit, I have a bit of a temper at times. I grabbed his arm and snatched the camera from his hand.
He tried to go all gangster on me and start using threats. I just snapped and started punching him in the face. Lifeguards separate us and call la policia. I give them the camera thingy and after they download the pictures of nearly 20 unsuspecting women/girls (including my nieces), I'm free to go.
During WWII, an American airplane crashed near the Japanese island of Chichijima. There were nine servicemen on board. One was rescued by an American submarine. The other eight were taken in by the Japanese. Don't wanna go into all the details, but through some time and events, the Japanese ended up EATING those servicemen. But that's not the weird part.
The one serviceman who was rescued? That was George H. W. Bush. Google "Chichijima incident" for more details if you'd like.
I didn't think it was creepy at the time, but now it gives me the heebie-jeebies. I was spending the night at a friend’s house. Her older brother called us into his room to play a game. She didn't want to, said she didn't like it, but he insisted. He laid down in bed, she was in the closet. I had to get into bed with him and let him kiss and touch me.
I then had to go do the same thing to his sister in the closet. If she was able to do everything back to him the right way, I won. Needless to say, I never won. I was nine or so, she was a year younger, he was three or four years older. I didn't understand what was happening, and I kinda wish I didn't now. Yeah, creepy.
When I was in middle school, a Jehovah's Witness family showed up and enrolled their kids in public school. One of them, a fairly attractive boy, started flirting with me. I'd always been that "weird" girl in school, so I obviously fell for him. He told me he wasn't allowed to "date," per se, but he was allowed to invite people to his church. It was a huge mistake.
He told if I went with him, we could hang out and it would be just like a date. So I did, and that day they were talking about how if you join the church, you cannot speak with anyone not in the Witnesses. I knew enough about cults to know what was going on. I was still interested in him, though, so I came up with an ingenious plan.
When he asked me to go again, I politely declined. Instead, I suggested we sneak out one night and meet. He did, and I used my allowance to get us tickets to some movie. I didn't see him for years after that. His family just vanished. The next time I saw him, it was in a mall. I went up and said hi, but I wasn't prepared for what happened.
Suddenly, his grandmother yanked him away, snarling not to speak with "that filthy girl." Not to be a conspiracy theorist, but I think he was only allowed to flirt with me because they were trying to convert me and my family. In my community, we were pretty well known—my father was the fire chief and in a small town like this, that's a big deal.
My grandmother died on my ninth birthday. We were really close, and it was so hard to see her in so much pain. After we had recovered, the next year, my aunt gave me a cat for my birthday. The cat (Felix) and I instantly bonded (much like my grandmother and I). He followed me literally everywhere, never leaving my side. He would walk on a leash with me, ride in the car with me, etc. The day I bought my first house is the day he abruptly passed away from cancer. He lived nearly 19 years.
As weird as it sounds, I'm convinced my grandmother had planned to come back to me as a cat and stuck with me until she felt she was no longer needed.
When Vlad the Impaler was about to be invaded, he (true to his title) impaled hundreds of peasants on his country’s border so that his attackers would see how ruthless he was. It worked, and the invaders turned back and went home. Historians believe Vlad’s penchant for impaling stemmed from abuse from men while he was a boy.
Also, he experimented with different methods of impaling. Through various orifices, and in his off time would eat his meals while watching people slowly dying upon their spikes.
The summer after I graduated high school, I spent a lot of time at my best friend's house. We used to live in a fairly large neighborhood—I lived in the front and she lived in the back. It was always a lot easier to drive through the neighborhood than back out onto the main road. It probably took about five minutes to get back to my house from hers, with all of the stop signs.
Anyway, one night we were watching a movie and it was getting late (maybe midnight or so?) and I decided to head home. I got my stuff together, headed to my car and started the drive. I was two streets away from mine, stopping at a stop sign, when from the bushes this enormous guy wearing a clown mask and bright red hair jumps out and starts running at my car.
I had NO idea what to do. I hadn't completely stopped yet, so I gunned it, and this clown guy is chasing me up the road. Stop at the next stop sign—barely—and he's still chasing me. I got home and told my parents. They didn't believe me, but I felt really uneasy about it, so I called the non-emergency number for my county. They said that they had been getting similar reports all week.
I grew up in Pennsylvania hearing about someone called The Green Man. He was supposed to be terrifying. You'd only see him at night but if you got too close, you'd realize why he couldn't go out in the day: he didn't have a face. When I got older, I learned the awful truth. He wasn't an urban legend. The Green Man was real. His name was Raymond Robinson. He'd lost his eyes and nose in a terrible accidents.
That there's "something" making people disappear in our area in Nevada. As a kid, it was more so they were hinting at aliens. Then as we grew up the disappearances have been a little too eerie and it's been suspected that there are investigations that have been going on as to whether or not there's a serial killer in our area. I carry a firearm when traveling through and don't stop until I get to the cities, if you guys are ever coming through just don't stop for anyone especially after the darkness sets in.
When I was about twelve, I walked home from school with friends, but after we got to the main road, I was basically on my own because I lived farther away than the other kids. One day, I noticed that a little white pick-up had passed me quite a few times, but being the naive little girl that I was, I assumed that they were merely lost.
The pick-up turned into my neighborhood at which point I ran as fast as I could to my house. I considered myself safe once I made it inside. I went about my usual after-school routine. As I'm about to sit down to enjoy my snack, I hear a car door slam.
I run over to the blinds and, sure enough, I see the little white truck sitting in my driveway. A few seconds later, there was a knock at my door and my stupid young self answered it for whatever reason. I asked the guy what he wanted, but he didn't say anything. No, he just tried to force his way into my house. I slammed the door as hard and as fast as I could and somehow managed to lock it as well.
My two trusty beagles start to go bananas. The guy bangs on the front door for a few minutes and then proceeds to the backyard where he starts to bang on the back door. I army crawled my way to the kitchen because that's where our landline was. Called my grandpa who lived down the street because I figured he could get to me faster than the police could.
My grandpa told me he would be at my house in less than five minutes and to call the police after I hung up. At this point, I start to scream/beg the guy banging on my door to not kill me as I cry hysterically. Then the guy just suddenly stops and I hear a car door slam again. I run back over to the blinds and see that the pick-up is gone.
My grandpa shows up a few seconds later. I run over to him and tell him that the guy left right before he got there. As I'm telling my grandpa all of this, I see the truck pass by my street as it headed towards the neighborhood entrance. I try to point it out, but I'm guessing I wasn't making much sense because he just pushed me back towards my house.
There was no sign of the guy other than that he left the back gate open. We never ended up calling the cops. I had to go to my grandpa's house after school every day for a few months though. I really thought I was going to die that day.
I was nine and watching Spongebob. I went to the kitchen for a drink, and when I came back, the TV had a message: "Welcome back. Did you like your drink?" Truly scared by now, I get my dad. And like every cliché horror movie, the message ain't there.
My roommate's sister lives in a suburban part of Delaware, right outside of Wilmington. Her neighborhood had been experiencing all these weird break-ins for a bit, break-ins where nobody could figure out what had been taken. Finally, one day she comes home and finds a pair of men's boxers on her pillow (to the skeptics, she lives alone).
She immediately calls the police and gets the heck out of dodge, locking her doors before she leaves. The police come with her back to her house, and find the door unlocked, meaning the man was almost certainly inside her house when she made the discovery.
I used to live in a rented house that, along with my neighbors, sat across the street from a fairly bustling city park. At night, when the park was deserted, I would walk out my front door, sit on my porch and look at the trees and the stars. One night, around 1 AM, I opened the front door and started to sit down. That's when I my blood ran cold. I saw a man standing in the deserted park.
He was directly in front of my house. The man was dressed all in black and was wearing a Halloween skull mask. The mask seemed fairly intricate, but was most definitely a store-bought cheapo. The sight of this guy sent a chill down my spine. He didn't move at all—although I know he saw me. The entire neighborhood was silent and still and we just paused there holding our ground.
We watched each other for a long time until he finally sauntered away. I ended up calling the cops because I figured this guy was casing the neighborhood. Cops came, took my statement. Nothing ever came of it. A couple of months later, I'm doing some yard work around the side of my house. I'm pulling a huge tangle of weeds out from a thicket underneath my kitchen window.
I see something that looks like trash and pick it up: it's the mask I saw that night.
In Mombasa, Kenya there was a story about a woman with long black hair and a white dress who would be seen around the beach at night and it was to stop people at the beach from swimming in the ocean. Turned out to be true—it was an older lady would sleepwalk on the beach in her nighties. Even she didn't know until locals found the courage to follow her home.
A blocked number once called my cell phone. I just said "Hello?" and a deep, creepy voice replied, "I will find you." That was the fastest I've ever hung up. I could barely sleep that night.
My extremely Catholic grandmother owned a house in rural New York. The place always had a weird vibe to it, as it was over 150 years old. I had several paranormal experiences like seeing what I believed to be a spirit of a man in a brown coat and top hat in the kitchen. I would also hear children's voices in the bunkbed room when nobody was home, as well as light fixtures acting strangely, like bulbs going out on holiday lights one by one in sequence instead of all at once.
I learned a few years ago that the family that had moved into the house after my grandparents moved to Florida had abruptly moved out. They had forfeited their down payment and left immediately because, and I quote from the realtor's report, “The demons in the basement were terrorizing their children to an unbearable degree.”
When I was young living rural Ontario we were told as children not to wander too far into the forest saying that a monster would get us and we wouldn't come home. If anybody knows who Roch Thériault is, that actually turned out to be painfully true.
Where I live is very dark because there are many trees and hardly any street lamps. I was driving home after hanging out with my girlfriend, and on my way back, I see several bikes in the distance. They were laid horizontally in front of me, like a blockade, blocking off the road. Luckily, I have read tons and tons about situations where people stop, get out to move whatever object and get kidnapped, car stolen, etc. So I lock my doors and wait a little bit.
Eventually, I decided that it’s too dark for me to wait around and see if anyone picks up the bike or tries to break into my car. I decided to just drop it into first gear and run over the bikes. Either way, if it was a prank, they deserve it because who the heck thinks that that will be funny. If it wasn't a prank, then thank goodness.
As I drive further, I suddenly see humanoid figures moving out of the bushes in the distance behind me, just barely lit by my tail lights, looking at my car as I disappear around the corner. I kept flooring it, hitting 7,600 RPMs, and stayed at a friend's house for the night. Unfortunately, I lowered my car at the time so it got scratched.
But not comparable to whatever intent those people had. I never imagined a situation like that would happen.
I was camping alone in a bit of secluded bushland, with lots of sticks and leaf litter. I heard a strange plopping noise during the night, but no other noises really. Well, I wake up to see a decapitated kangaroo’s head next to the tent that obviously wasn't there when I put the tent up. No explanation. Got the heck out of there.
My girlfriend and I had a fight, and like a good dog, I was sleeping on the floor next to her bed. Yeah, I know. At some point in the middle of the night, I woke up because I heard her door open. I didn't process it because I was still mostly asleep, but then somebody yelled very loudly, "GAH!" and slammed the door shut.
I sat upright in time to see a poster that had been hanging on her door go floating to the floor. I was a little creeped out, but I made the decision that what I had heard was some remnant of my dream and that all I had really heard was the poster falling off the door. Her mom was fast asleep and her brother was staying at her dad's house.
As I lay back down, my girlfriend sat up and said something that sent shivers down my spine. She goes, "Did someone just yell 'gah' and slam the door?" Yeah, I got back into bed with her after that.
Me and my brother were hiking out in the woods when we stumbled upon a small, open, grassy field. In the center of it, there was a person with a blue jacket crouched over.
We thought it was a friend of ours that we had recently met, so I ran out to greet them. I did not have my glasses on, but I got pretty close enough to see that it was a grown man leaned over the carcass of a deer, stabbing it with an unsharpened stick. He looked up and saw me. I was pretty freaked out, so I turned around and yelled at my brother to run, and so we started to sprint as fast as we could back home.
My wife and I live about six hours from Vegas, and she went there over one weekend to visit some family. She calls me from the road on her way back (it was late, the sun had gone down) and says, "Just so you know, this car has been tailgating me for about an hour." We decide that at the next exit, she will get off the highway and pull into a well-lit gas station.
She does, and the car pulls into a gas station across the street. She leaves, the car follows her again. She goes another half hour and hits some traffic. Starts accelerating, switching lanes, etc. The car stays on her tail through it all. She also noticed that the car was a dark color, with no license plate or temp tag.
The driver had removed the make and model and everything, and they had darkly tinted windows. So she finally decides, "The next time I see a cop car, I'm getting myself pulled over" and she does. The female officer asks why she suddenly sped up AFTER seeing the cop car. My wife explains what has been happening for the past few hours, the cop escorts her the 45 minutes home and says, "You’re the fifth person to report this in the last couple weeks. Some of the other reports ended in assaults and/or robberies"... So that was nerve-wracking.
Bushwalking in New South Wales (Australia), me and my friend came across this weird platform looking thing made out of rocks. Later that year the cops arrested some bloke on suspicion of the murders of a series of backpackers who had gone missing over the course of a few years, and at the sites of several of the murders were these “altars.”
The guy who was arrested and subsequently convicted for the murders is Ivan Milat, Australia's worst criminal. Now the cops are pretty sure that at least one other person was involved in the murders other than the one now in jail for the crime, they just couldn't prove it.
I was working at a movie theater at the time. I was closing with another usher. Part of our job is to check all the theaters after the last show to make sure nobody has fallen asleep (it happens). I walk in a theater and notice that all the lights had been turned off. This is usually done by the projectionist when he/she closes down the booth for that theater.
I started to hear faint singing coming from around the corner of the wall. It wasn't a song from the speakers. We heard those songs 80 times a day and there were only like eight of them. There was a girl singing around the corner, in the pitch black after midnight. I called out to her and all of a sudden I heard LOUD footsteps coming toward me from the darkness of the theater.
It started near the front row and just got louder and louder as it traveled up the aisle. They were basically stomps. I didn't hesitate one second. I turned around and sprinted to the lobby. This was a back theater. The only exits are the fire escapes from within the theater. Nobody came down the hall to the front exit.
The other usher, who was a lot tougher than I was, was able to turn the cleaning lights on in the theater and went inside to find nobody. We checked every theater. Nobody. Just to be sure, I went outside and checked every single fire exit. I live in the Northeast. We get some decent snowfall. All the exit doors were snowed in shut with ice built on top of them.
The only place they could be were the hallways in the back of the building that lead from behind the screen to the safety of the street. Could have been kids. Could have been something else. I'll never know.
A college friend invited me to a service at her new church. Later told me that the "church" met in a barn, and they spent their last service literally vomiting up their demons. 50 or so people holy-vomiting all at once. Yeah, I never went back.
So, I've been trying out Tinder. It seemed like a pretty fun way to meet people. I met this one girl a couple of months ago, let's call her Charlotte. So Charlotte was this cute little thing, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. Her profile said she had a thing for tall guys, so I started talking to her.
Figured it was worth a shot to try and get with this girl (being tall myself). So I did. Turns out that this was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. I was talking to her for a week at first. This week was just a little back and forth flirting, talking to each other about our lives, etc. It was fun. In the second week, she started to branch out into other social networks that I had.
She found my Facebook. No big deal, my Facebook is hooked up to Tinder. A few days later she found my Twitter, Instagram, and other things. Weird, I thought. They all have different usernames. I asked her why she was adding all of my stuff, and she told me that she really liked me, and thinks that it's going to work between us, so she wanted to ingrain herself into my life. A little creepy, I thought.
Within another week, we decided to meet up. She gave me an address. It was on the other side of the city. She said it was her house. I drove into the neighborhood and something felt very wrong. It looked like a really low-income area, and a lot of the homes were in disrepair, some were even abandoned. I pulled up to the house that she wanted me to meet her at. There didn't seem to be anybody there, didn't look like there had been in years.
There were no cars in the driveway, and the windows were all covered in one way or another—blinds, curtains, newspaper. There was an active WiFi network, though, so somebody obviously lived there. I walked up to the house and heard some shuffling in the garage. The houses around that one seemed really quiet too. Something felt really, really wrong.
My conscience told me to get out of there, so I started up the car, floored the gas and drove out of that neighborhood. When I got home, I went to go check out her profiles. None of them really had any text-based posts, just images of her. No interactions with friends or anything either. The profiles looked fake, like the ones bots use.
I realized that Charlotte was probably not who she said she was. I quickly deleted her from my social profiles. About five or so days later, an unknown number started to text my phone. Stuff like "Where were you?", "You never showed up...", "I was looking so forward to this." It's been a month since all of this went down. I'm still pretty freaked out about it.
Fell asleep in my living room after my parents left for a date. I was deep asleep when I suddenly felt my hair being petted. I thought maybe I just didn't hear my folks come in, so I opened my eyes to find… no one there. Still creeps me out to this day.
In high school, I practically lived with my girlfriend. It was just us two on the top floor, her mom was on the main floor, and her brother was in the basement. She always told me that the house was haunted, specifically the top floor and attic, and I mostly believed her. She said that the first week she lived there she woke up one night to use the bathroom, and when she flipped on the light there was a little girl standing in there. She never saw her again but swears she saw her that once.
One morning I woke up with her sitting up in bed, staring at me wide-eyed with a look of terror on her face. When I asked her what was wrong she just started screaming until she woke up. She told me that she woke up and I was nailed to the wall in a bloody pentagram. She had several little night hallucinations when we were together, most of them involved her having conversations with imaginary people in her room, but nothing ever as bad as seeing me nailed to the wall.
I got home from work late one night and was walking onto my front stoop when I walked right into this huge spider web. At first I didn't think much of it, until I looked down and saw about 20-30 baby spiders all over me. I started freaking out, then noticed the parents sitting on my front door. They were huge, bigger than a quarter, so of course, I did not want to use the front door.
I run to my back door, throw all of my clothes off, and jump in the shower. I then watch as baby spiders begin falling out of my hair.
I was walking home from a band rehearsal, listening to music, when I suddenly heard what sounded like a car driving recklessly and very rapidly. The car looked as if it was going straight for me. I watched as my whole life flashed before my eyes and ran as fast as I could into the grass away from it. Long story short, it was a drunk driver, with his child in the car, who wrecked into the sign at my high school.
I looked into the car, from afar—the driver was dead and the child stared at me as she died. It was the worst experience of my life. The really weird part is that I froze there for about 10 minutes in complete despair and awe that this actually happened. I snapped out of it, called the police, and left the scene. About 45 minutes later, I was curious as to why I never heard sirens so I went back to see what was happening. The car and the bodies were gone. I'm not trying to make it sound like spooky or anything, but I was legitimately in terror.
I had six months of nightmares and still suffer from clinical depression.
We had an older couple that would come into the store I worked at when I was 15. They clearly had mental development/mental health problems and the rumor was they were siblings and the two teenage girls with them were their children. About five years later I'd find out someone had called the state about them and turns out (from what I remember) to be mostly true.
The parents were apparently the result of incest and they carried on the family tradition, as it were. I think the state removed their daughters and put them in state custody since they weren't able to take care of themselves, and I don't remember what happened to the parents.
I lived in the desert and went to school near Death Valley. There was this legend that a man that got lost in the salt flats in Death Valley and was found mummified a few days later. Yeah, it was true. Apparently heat and salt will do that to you. Talking with one of the rangers that were there, he said he could hear the bones rattle when they carried the body.
I got admitted to a psych ward a few months ago for suicidal stuff, but was placed in acute care (for the really crazy people) because the depression one was all full. All sorts of nutty people were around me. It was a living hell. I'll be honest, I'm not sure if it was meds or just lack of sleep, or what, but I swear to goodness, I kept seeing this very dark-skinned African-American lady.
Out in the grass during smoke break, on the bench of the cafeteria tables, and on the floor in the hallway. I introduced myself, and she said her name was Shul. Everyone else acknowledged that she was there and tried talking with her, but she really said nothing. I think the story was that she just moved here from a faraway country (not sure if that's true, or just rumors I heard from other people).
I remember one night, I actually started crying because I missed my wife and daughter so bad. I went out and talked to a tech who said that he would try his best to get me moved over to the depression ward. As I was talking to him, I saw Shul screaming and getting thrown down to the floor and carried off by six other techs. There were six of them because Shul was a large woman.
The next morning when we asked where Shul was, the staff all kept denying that they even had a Shul. I know I wasn't the only one, because other patients were asking for her too. And one patient said she left behind a shirt. Not a clue what happened, but it scared us pretty bad. Like what could happen next to one of us?
My sister is like 17, in the basement cinema room watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The new one. No one is home nor should they be for a few more hours. However, my dad got off work early that day and drove home to find her watching this movie. So my dad, being the comedian that he is, decides to rev up his chainsaw and kick open the cinema room doors to my screaming sister.
Not his finest moment.
When I was 16, I would jump on my trampoline out back for hours every night. Literally, hours. I would listen to my iPod and just daydream to get away from a rough family life. One night when I was jumping, a kid ran past our fence full speed carrying a box. He ran to the park behind my house and held it by the edge, then tossed it into the air so that it flipped a few times before landing on the ground.
Then he just stood over it and stared before suddenly bolting back past our fence. Alright, that's a bit weird. I just kept jumping and staring at where the box was—and here's where it gets creepy. The box looked like it was moving. Then something started to rise out of it. I actually stopped jumping, rubbed my eyes, and watched as what looked like a full-grown man rose out of a box that was like two inches thick. He had an elongated head with no hair. His skin was orange, and his eyes were huge and pitch black. He raised one arm up to his side and the box just kind of went into what I can only describe as a trench coat.
He walked over to the only pavilion we have at the small park, grabbed the metal beam holding up the overhang and started to bang his head hard onto the beam over and over. At this point, I had rubbed my eyes quite a few times and couldn't even move. I had no idea what I was seeing. Then without warning, he just stopped, quickly whipped his head around, and stared right at me.
It was as if he could somehow feel me watching him. A giant, and I mean giant, smile came across his face as those dark eyes just stared at me. He tilted his head back and forth a few times. I had goosebumps and my eyes started to tear up. Even typing this is making my hair stand on edge because I won’t ever forget that look.
As I was about to start crying (and I don't know why I wanted to cry but his face just filled me with terror), he turned around and kind of phased down the road off into the distance. Phase like those units the Protoss have in Starcraft that leave a "trail" of themselves for a short period of time, if that helps to explain it. He was gone. That was it.
I bawled my eyes out and sprinted inside and called my best friend who assured me I was seeing things and needed to calm down. I’m sure I sound insane and no one will believe me, but this is the creepiest thing that has happened to me. I know what I saw and to this day when I think about it my eyes begin to water and my hair stands on edge. Never saw anything like it since.
A kid went missing on the same property we lived on and everyone thought his brother had something to do with it but police said no, he was kidnapped. Turned out the brother had killed his brother and buried him in our backyard.
Both my parents are from the UK, so when I was young, we would go visit my grandparents there over the summer. Late one night, we hear a crashing sound, and all look up to the sliding doors that border the back garden. We see a figure crashing through the backyard fence, sprinting across the backyard, and peering into the large glass windows—right at our young, terrified faces.
He gives us a quick grin, sprints to the other side of the yard, hops the fence and is gone. All of this happens in the space of about 10 seconds. Needless to say, my cousins, siblings, and I all dart upstairs and awaken all the adults. Cops are called. They start searching the area and knocking on neighbors' doors. One house doesn't respond.
Finally, they choose to break in. They find an entire family of three generations and six members murdered in their beds. It was a random attack, as they caught the guy a few hours later, and he had no connection to the family at all. I don't want to think about if he had picked my grandparents' house instead. ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING.
There was always a creepy old guy who lived down the street from me and my mom. People were sketched out, but it was hard to express exactly what was so off about him. That summer, our neighborhood—and the entire country—learned about his disturbing double life. He was actually the Golden State Killer.
It was a few years ago. I used to have a late-night job and didn't have a car, so I did a lot of walking. One night I got home later than usual, around 3:00 AM. Before going inside, I would usually have a smoke and listen to some tunes to try and unwind before attempting to sleep. So I was smoking on the steps when I saw something that made my blood run cold.
It was about 10 to 12 feet tall and all solid white. Except for "its" face. It was like a slender, tall, demented looking thing. And I can swear it KNEW I was looking at it and it looked right back. I calmly finished my smoke and went inside. Where my room was I could see that house from my window. Every so often I would check and sure enough, it was still there, still seemingly knowing I was watching.
Not long before daybreak, I passed out. I woke up around 10 in the morning, and without a second thought, went straight to the window to check on "it." Nothing was there. The rest of the day before work I kept trying to think of an explanation. "It was the moon playing tricks on me,” or “the lack of sleep was getting to me."
I left to start walking to work around 6:00 PM. That house was right along my route, so to put my mind to ease once and for all I went to investigate. What I saw still makes the hairs on my arms stand up. There was a trail of muddy footsteps right where I was looking all the way to the road. Not only that, but the trail lead right in the direction of my house.
I no longer work night jobs and have a car. I've never been able to make sense of it, but every so often I keep my eye out. You can never be too careful…
The Rat Man. In Southampton, it was rumored that the reason there were so many rats about was that there was a mysterious man who would find secluded spots of unlit footpaths at night and feed the rats raw meat. He would go somewhere else each night so the council couldn't catch him. I always assumed it was a silly campus legend. Then my friend met him.
When I was 11, I biked out in front of a car until it honked really loudly at me. I stupidly flipped the car off and they came to a screeching halt. A huge guy stepped out and went to open his trunk. His girlfriend got out of the passenger's side crying and screaming, begging him not to open the trunk. I was frozen in fear. He got back in the car and sped off. I have no idea what was in the trunk.
I used to have a cat that was big, black, and fluffy. Me and my brother got him a long time ago. He named him Naruto. Anyway, Naruto died of complications with his bladder a couple years ago. I wasn’t around when he was buried but I got to say my goodbyes. He was a very good cat and had a keen sense of bad things. He would always sleep next to me when I had a bad day or just rotten luck.
Well, ever since he passed, he has been a staple in my dreams. He isn’t just a normal cat, but like a zombie cat. At the end of every dream, I bury him. This has happened multiple times. I only ever see him in my dreams if I had a bad day. Recently, I have moved into a small house with a couple of roommates. I had decided to take a nap in the middle of the day.
During dreaming, Naruto sat in front of me, howled and then scratched my face. I woke up and there was smoke everywhere in my room as well as the rest of the house. Turns out one of my roommates had left the stove on with some food cooking while he ran to get something from the grocery store—dumb idea, I know. My room was right behind the kitchen.
If Naruto hadn’t woken me up in the dream I might have died in a house fire. The next night, I dreamed that I buried Naruto again. I haven’t seen him in my dreams since.
I was sitting in my room on the second floor after getting out of work. Little bro is downstairs watching TV, the dog is in the hallway outside my door sleeping. All of a sudden, our dog starts making a racket. He's jumping around, barking, clacking nails, howling. I get up to see what's up and I hear, "Aw that's a good girl" in a male voice. It didn't sound like little bro so I go "Oh you're home early!" thinking it is my dad's friend/our roomie as I open the door.
Soon as I'm out, there is no one at all but the dog wagging her tail staring at the empty end of the hallway. Little bro comes upstairs to yell at me for getting his dog riled up, said he heard the same voice thinking it was me or our roommate. We did a once over of the house with my butter knife and his BB gun, and there was NOBODY to be found. Still gives me the spooks to this day.
My old man was an avid outdoorsman in the Colorado Rockies in the late 80s. He'd go on week-long treks with his buds. One summer, they'd been out for a few days in Pikes National Forest. They set up camp in a ravine they thought was safe. That night my dad unzipped the tent to take a leak in the dark and outside stood a pair of pale bare feet.
My dad screamed and zipped up the tent. Everyone else woke up and asked what was wrong. My dad said someone was barefoot out there. They went out and flashed their lights for a bit, hollering. My dad swore he saw what he saw and described the feet in detail: they were old blotchy feet, one even had a lump on the ankle. Tony, his bud, asked which foot, left or right.
My dad said it was the right. Then Tony said they needed to move their camp immediately. Dad asked why. Tony said they didn't have time. They went along with it and packed up and moved on top of the hill. The next morning they woke up to find a flash flood had torn through the ravine during the night. It would have surely killed them.
Tony's grandfather had just died a month prior and one of the last things he said to him was that he would always watch over him. The feet my dad described reminded Tony of his grandfather's feet.
Freddy Krueger is based on a real story. There's a small ethnic group local to Southeast Asia, the Hmong people. They've been oppressed for years by various countries, so they fought with the US during the Vietnam Civil War. As you know, we lost, and the North Vietnamese were gearing up to kill the Hmong people who had fought for the Southern Vietnamese. So the US airlifted a bunch of Hmong families to the US, primarily in California and Minnesota.
One of the recent immigrants was a young man. He was perfectly healthy but suddenly died in his sleep. No one knew how he died (it's guessed it was a heart attack, but an autopsy wasn't done). This sent a panic throughout the community. There is a Hmong legend of a spirit that enters your dreams and kills you.
Hmong people were terrified. They were also in a new community without access to some old traditions to protect them. Young men started staying awake, trying to avoid the monster. They downed caffeine. They were actually scared enough that it caused stress to their hearts and they died. Eventually, 117 men died from Hmong Sleeping Sickness.
There's an abandoned house next to mine. The previous owner moved out to California 25 years prior and never sold it. So I got a flashlight this one time, pushed the window open and went inside, starting with the basement. In the basement was an untuned grand piano, some old WW2 memorabilia, a signed Elvis poster, and some other really cool things no one should ever leave behind.
There's basically a whole story in that basement, including a broken wedding picture frame and instruments everywhere. Then I started walking upstairs, my excitement transformed into dread. I heard crying from one of the side rooms. That's when I freaked out and haven't gone back there since.
When I was 19, I was staying the night at my best friends’ house with another friend. All three of us were sleeping on the bed and I woke up in the middle of the night. There was a girl, around six or seven years old standing at the foot of the bed looking at us. I was so freaked out I just kept looking back at her. I was too scared to do anything.
She slowly faded away. I swear this really happened but I'm not sure if it was a ghost or if I was somehow semi-awake and dreamt it. The scariest thing I have ever experienced though, regardless of whether it was my imagination or really a ghost. I didn't tell my friends for a couple of months because I couldn't really believe it.
Then a few months later, they were telling me about how one night when they were in their room, they heard children laughing in the living room. My jaw dropped. Apparently, they went to their bedroom door to listen better and when they got to the door there was a loud thunk on it, like someone hit it. They ran out of the room thinking someone was in their house but when they checked the house there was no one there and all the doors were still locked.
I told them about the girl I saw when they told me what happened to them.
I was just sitting at home browsing the internet at my desk with my arms crossed. My head starts to itch, and naturally, I begin scratching it. Mid-scratch, I realize my arms are still crossed...
My grandmother lives in a very old house (late 1700s), which is surrounded by graveyards on both sides. The other day, my friend who I hadn't seen in months, arrives at my house. We are walking along the old cobblestone driveway when he begins talking about his newfound spirituality, not in a religious context, but with regards to feeling "tuned in" to things.
I believed him; he had been away at a drug treatment program and I believe that he had experienced some kind of spiritual awakening. Anyways, as we are talking, my cat walks over to us and starts rubbing up against my leg. After a while I realize she won't quit and that she is trying to tell me something. I start to follow her and soon I realize she is leading me somewhere: we're going to the graveyard.
Every time I stop following her she turns around and rubs my leg until I begin walking again. When we finally get to the graveyard, she jumps up on a gravestone, balancing on the slender part of the gravestone, and will not move. She begins hissing when we try to take her off the headstone. Then we read the inscription. We were completely stunned.
It turns out that the grave was for someone who lived and died in our own house.
Our yard had a cemetery from the 1800s in the back, so it was quite a common local attraction for visitors, since many of the graves were for children who died back then from the flu, etc. There are some creepy stories from that place, but nothing lives up to what happened to me there.
While playing outside with my sister this one time, an old couple walking by the cemetery began pestering my sister about what her name was. They approached us and started to get closer and closer. We were just little kids and got terribly scared, so we ran inside and told our mom what had happened. The following week I heard a story on the news about an elderly couple approaching and abducting a teenage girl, and it turned out to be the same couple that had approached my sister and me.
I still get creeped out by that.
My aunt was home alone when she heard someone open the door and walk into the hallway. Since her husband (my uncle) was not supposed to be home for a few hours, she went downstairs to see if someone was there. She did not see anyone, but outside the door, she saw a chilling sight: there were footsteps in the snow leading to the door, but not away from it.
This got her nervous, and on a second glance, she saw an unfamiliar pair of shoes in the hallway. She ran up and called the police, and when they came and searched through the house, the found a homeless man hiding in a storage room, holding my uncle's shotgun. Luckily he had not found the ammunition (it was hidden in another place).
He was arrested, but according to my aunt, it was the scariest thing she has ever experienced.
I moved to Montreal and got a new Canadian phone number. Over the next eight months, I'd often get texts and calls from French people at strange hours of the day asking for "Nina" several times a month. One April morning while I was in bed I get a call from a withheld number claiming to be with the Montreal police, stating that Nina had been missing for over a year and that this was supposed to be her number.
I sent an inquiry to the Montreal police website a few days later asking if there's anything I can/should know about this missing "Nina." A few weeks later I got a response that basically said "Yes, Nina's missing. But we can't say anything else." I thought it couldn't get weirder, but I was wrong. I search missing persons in Quebec/Montreal, and Canada, but I couldn't find any Nina missing within the last year.
The experience was spooky and unsettling, to say the least…
I'm at work one day when my then-wife calls me out of the blue. She usually did not call me during the day because she worked the night shift. She tells me to call my friend Danny and make sure he and his family are okay. When I ask why, she tells me that she had a dream and can't remember it, but that I should call Danny and make sure he's okay.
So I call Danny and check in with him. I tell him about my wife's dream. He's mildly amused but tells me that he and his family are fine and to thank my wife for her concern. I call her back and let her know all is well. She's very dubious when she hears the news. I found out later that within half an hour of my phone call to Danny, he got another call from his uncle in Florida to tell him that his son committed suicide.
Back in the late 80s/early 90s, I was around six years old. I was at home with my sister who was 15 at the time. We grew up in a small Texas town, everyone knows everybody. We are home alone this particular night, and my folks let my sister babysit me frequently. We always got along due to our age gap. Anyway, it is about 8 pm in the winter so it is dark and we are in the common room watching 60 Minutes.
This one was a typical story, guy next door that was quiet went on a rampage in his next door neighbor's house, hurting them and kidnapping their young daughter. About 45 minutes into the show, all of a sudden we hear BAM BAM BAM. The front door bangs like crazy. We jump and scream like banshees. Then it's completely silent.
Just when we are about to declare that everything is safe, we hear the storm door on the outside of our front door close. Uh oh. Someone had to have opened that door to be able to bang on the front door like that. We totally freeze. I will remember this part until my dying day. I see the back door knob turn. It was locked on the knob but not dead-bolted.
It rattles slightly as if someone is gently trying the handle. Neither of us make a sound, just hold our breath. Then BAM BAM BAM BAM. The windows are vibrating violently and I can see with each jerk of the door how my reflection gets fuzzy, then clear, then fuzzy. My sister gets up and drags me into her bedroom, slams the door, throws her mattress and anything she can in front of her door.
Thankfully she had remembered the phone. We still had to direct dial the sheriff there, and in her panic didn't remember the number. She just hit redial on the phone. It was one of her friends and she tells them in broken gasps that someone is trying to get into our house and that we need help now.
I am curled up on the floor and cannot stop shaking. We don't hear anything else until we see the headlights of my sister's friend and her parents driving up to the house. We never did find out who was at the door or why, there were no signs of anything happening but a couple of scuff-marks on the bottom of the back door that we could not remember if they were there beforehand or not.
Nothing like that has happened to me or her since, but for sure we never forget to lock a door after that.
My boyfriend and I were walking one night to get some stuff for root beer floats, and as we were walking up the trail, we saw a black dog sniffing around. But it was dark, and I jokingly said: "What if it's some sort of creature?" The dog whirled its head around at that exact moment, looked at us, then took off at a speed I have never seen a dog run before. I'm talking like The Flash level. Weird. So then a couple of months later, my neighbor tells me she and her son had seen a creepy black dog roaming around the back of Walmart.
Couldn't be the same one, right? Just a coincidence. But then, she tells me that when it spotted them, it took off at the speed of light. THEN, my boyfriend comes home in somewhat of a panic a few weeks later, and says he saw the dog again. It's just weird. It's not black like a dog would naturally be, it's black in the way an absence of light would be, is the best way I can describe it.
Like a void of nothingness that's dog-shaped. I’m now scared of walking to Walmart...
It was my first night in Somalia. We had to set up a camp. There were gaping artillery holes in the wall surrounding the compound. We wired them all. A bulldozer dug the defensive holes after the sun went down. The guys we relieved complained about the smell of the hole. I got in and they did not exaggerate. The smell was horrid and we were being poked by jagged rocks.
I was able to sleep in the next morning after night duty. When I got up and went outside to wash up, there was a lot of activity by the hole I was in a few hours before. That's when I learned the awful truth. The hole was dug in a poorly marked graveyard. The activity at the site was loved ones claiming remains.
The smell was decomposition. The jagged "rocks" were bone shards.
I was in Toronto for a concert and, long story short, I got stopped by "The Police" and they arrested me, saying that they were taking me to the drunk tank. Not a big deal. I was very intoxicated and had been before as well. I pass out in the back of the car until they wake me up in front of what appears to be a warehouse of some kind.
We get inside and it looks like a hospital. The cops leave me there and people come up and start taking weird amounts of blood, more than you normally would take. The nurse leads me into a bedroom and some bouncer type guy slams me into a bed and straps me there, like seven or eight straps across my body. That’s when my senses start to kick in and I majorly panic.
I’m left alone in some pitch-black room, strapped in and unable to move. After passing out again, I wake up in these bushes beside Burger King. I still had my phone and my wallet with all my money in it. It boggles my mind to this day. I have no idea what happened. My friends think I was drugged or hallucinated, but I swear it was real.
One day while doing my laundry, one of the lights blew out in my basement. My basement is set up so that the laundry room is split off from the other side of the basement with a wall and a door. In order to get upstairs, you have to exit the laundry room and go through the other part of the basement. So the light blew in the other part, not the laundry room.
As it was the only light on that side, it was pretty dark. I finished the laundry I had to do while dreading the walk through the dark basement. I exit the laundry room, get halfway through the basement, and suddenly I hear a loud cackle. Imagine a sound people make when they imitate a witch. Take that and imagine that the witch had been smoking for 50 years, making her voice deeper and hoarser.
That is what I heard, clear as day, right behind me. I did not hesitate to bolt for the stairs. I waited until my father got home and then changed the bulb. I have yet to hear that cackle since, and I have not told a single person in the house about it.
I moved to my dad’s when I was 10 and didn't know anyone in the area, except for the family my dad was friends with. Luckily, they had a girl a couple of years older than me and we got to know each other. We weren't close, but we ended up having some of the same friends. One night my friend Rob was hanging out with her and her younger brother.
They happened to be in the house alone because the mom was at work. She'd been helping this one lady at her work and had gotten to know her fairly well. The lady's sister had recently been released from a mental institution. The night Rob was hanging out with my friend, they get a knock on the door. My friend thought it was just their mom (she knocks a certain way when coming in) and answered it without thinking.
Rob wasn't supposed to be there and he took off through the window to his house down the road, never even giving it a second thought. Turns out it wasn't her mom. It was the sister of the lady her mom was helping, who had somehow tracked down her address. My friend's younger brother got away to the neighbor’s to call the police.
The lady brutally murdered my friend a week before Christmas. I wasn't allowed to go to her funeral.
I was laying in my bed with my boyfriend and the lights were out. We weren't talking, just both thinking. All of a sudden, he rolls over and hugs me really tightly. I, of course, hug him back. But then this feeling just hit me. If I wasn't already laying down, it would have knocked me over. It was a total feeling of dread and panic.
I'll admit, I have had panic attacks in the past. But this was not the same. I hugged my boyfriend back as hard as I could. I never felt a feeling like this before. My boyfriend is one of those people who is always really warm, but even in his arms, I felt ice cold. I could feel this evil, awful feeling and it seemed like it was coming from the corner of my room.
It was kind of like sensing your friend behind you when they aren't saying anything. I honestly believe there was a demon or something in my room. I got the courage to speak, and I said, "Jay, do you feel that?" and he said he did, he felt the same cold, evil feeling. This all happened in about thirty seconds to a minute.
He decided to call his friend who was studying to be a youth pastor. He put him on speakerphone. Matt prayed for us and we both closed our eyes and listened, praying in our heads. When the prayer was done, the room felt lighter and it wasn't cold anymore. But after a little small talk afterward, Matt asked, "Were you two talking while I was praying?"
We were like, of course not. We were just listening. He said he heard a deep, gravelly voice on the phone telling him to stop. And he said he felt an awful, evil feeling overcome him while he was praying. I am convinced it was a demon. But it never came back, so.... Why was it there in the first place? That's the only problem I have with the whole thing.
What was it trying to accomplish? I don't think I'll ever know…
It was an “intentional community” I joined when I was 19. There were a bunch of hippies living in tents on a piece of land. A charming, shirtless dude was the leader, the group included several young women—although there were a few other dudes and an older woman involved as well. After I moved in, I discovered their dark secret.
I learned that one of the other guys had gone missing after having a disagreement with the leader. He packed up his car full of all his belongings, and then…was nowhere to be found. They searched the property for his body, contemplated calling the police, but decided not to. Instead, they decided to just hold hands around the fire. I left.
Out here in Washington, there were rumors of a "fairy house" in the woods somewhere. One park ranger decided to go hunting for it and he actually did find a treehouse in the woods. When he looked inside he found a ton of child pornography. He took it down and came back a while later and found it had been put back up. They eventually found who had been using the tree house and arrested him.
I used to work in low-income home weatherization, basically giving free stuff away to help lower electricity and gas bills and make the home more comfortable to people who really needed it. One step in qualifying a home is testing combustion appliances to make sure they’re not emitting carbon monoxide into the living space, because if they are and we seal up the house we could kill the whole family.
During a pre-inspection of a home on the outskirts of the city, I ask to see the owner’s water heater. He tells me that it’s in the basement, which is fairly normal, and I tell him I have to inspect it before work can start. So, he goes into the kitchen and starts moving the refrigerator. Turns out the entry into the basement is underneath carpeting beneath the fridge.
I should note that I went and did thousands of homes over the years, and had never seen such a thing. But, whatever, needs to be done regardless and so I pull out my flashlight and shine it down the stairs, to check out the layout but really to look for black widow spiders. At this point, I notice a dead cat, mostly down to a skeleton.
Not my favorite sight, but really common in crawlspaces and basements. I take a few steps down the stairs and continue my spider check, and notice another couple of small animal skeletons. At this point, I start to worry about gas, or poisons, or something equally dangerous having been responsible for the skeletons. I start looking closer.
There are animal skeletons everywhere, at least ten on a cursory look. Some of them are so degraded I can’t determine what they used to be. I also happen to notice that this guy is waiting at the entrance a little too quietly, with his hand on the door. Something clicks in my brain and I get this immense sense of danger.
I’m about four steps from the door being clear to close, I have no partner on the job with me, there’s death all around me, and I realize just how hidden the entrance to the basement really was. I noped the hell outta there, told the guy I needed extra tools and would be back, and marked the job as non-feasible for health and safety as I was driving away.
I have no idea if I was actually in any danger, it could have been completely innocent; but I still remember the adrenaline rush and sense of doom, and sometimes you just don’t take chances.
I was about four or five years old and my parents had just separated. My mom was living in a two bedroom apartment. I had my own room but I preferred to sleep in her bed whenever I stayed with her. Our two bedrooms were at the end of a hallway, directly across from each other. I woke up in the middle of the night and remember sitting up and seeing that our cat was sitting in the door frame of my mom's room.
This was strange because our cat was typically always in bed with us. As I watched our cat, he walked into my bedroom and meowed at something. I felt weird, so I turned to face my mom and wake her up. In the three seconds it took her to wake up and ask what was wrong, we both looked back at the door frame. Our blood immediately ran cold.
There was a man standing by my open door, making his way out of my bedroom. My mom picked me up and literally threw me out of the screen window (we were on the first floor; it was maybe a three foot drop to the ground). After she jumped out, we started screaming until one of our neighbors called 9-1-1. The police came but they didn't see any signs of forced entry.
Only that our front door was unlocked which led them to believe the man must have exited that way. The strange thing was that my mom swore up and down that she locked the door that night, with the deadbolt and chain lock. About a week later she was cleaning the kitchen when she opened up our water heater closet and found a notebook with names and drawings, as well as a pair of gloves and some gum wrappers.
The police were called again. They said that the man had probably been in our house. He must have hid until we were asleep.
One time when I was fairly new at my electrical job, I was lighting a large industrial oven that basically has spark plug wires for each of the many burners. I was holding the framework of the oven with one hand and reaching in a burner access port with the other when I got pushed forward and my whole body sort of slammed up against the side of the oven.
I spun around ready to hit somebody for pushing me, but there was no one there. Then I noticed my fingers kind of burning/tingling. So yea, I realized that I had just gotten shocked with very high voltage, low amperage DC. I am not quite sure how I walked out of there alive that day.
My mom never told me how her best friend died. Years later, I was using her phone when I made an utterly chilling discovery.
Madame de Pompadour was the alluring chief mistress of King Louis XV, but few people know her dark history—or the chilling secret shared by her and Louis.
I tried to get my ex-wife served with divorce papers. I knew that she was going to take it badly, but I had no idea about the insane lengths she would go to just to get revenge and mess with my life.
Catherine of Aragon is now infamous as King Henry VIII’s rejected queen—but few people know her even darker history.
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