Scary movies are fun to watch. But living one out? Not so much. These people shared their freakiest experiences and they are not for the faint of heart. From close calls with danger and messages from beyond to unexplainable sightings and terrifying dreams, these stories prove that truth is always stranger, and much more horrific, than fiction.
On my first nursing job, I would work in a unit that served as an overflow, and that unit would close if the census was low (less patients in the hospital). The hospital was only a few years old, but there were strange things happening like the TV turning on its own in a room where one patient died and patient’s doors closing. I always joked that sun-downing in a hospital might as well be someone being possessed.
Two of our coworkers had the bright idea of going upstairs to that unit, turning on phone video, and asking aloud for the spirits to show themselves. I didn't join them since I was busy. But to their disappointment, nothing came of it and even the possessed TV did not turn on. But later, when they reviewed the video, they turned up the volume on their phone. They started to hear audible whispers. It was utterly terrifying.
My oldest kept talking in his bed, even hours past bedtime. When we asked him who he was talking to, he said he was talking to the floating white lady. I don't remember the description he gave us, but what I DO remember is kid #3 doing the same exact routine, eight years later…
My seven-year-old told me that his old family died in a fire with him, and now he has a new family (ours). He told me the names of his siblings, what his parents looked like, what the house looked like, and when he died. He gave me so much detail. I wrote it all down as he talked and after he went to bed, I looked it up. Everything he said matched this one old news story.
Everything he said fit. This news story I had never even heard before, and it happened about a year and a half before he was ever conceived.
My little nephew went through this phase of being absolutely terrified of going to sleep in his room. I babysat a couple of times during this phase—we basically had to sit beside his bed and help him fall asleep, and he'd usually wake up shortly after you left the room and start crying. His reason? "The big dark scary man standing in the corner with red eyes doesn't want me to sleep."
My sister died in a car accident years ago. Shortly after it happened, I was at home for lunch on a work day when the phone rang. It was someone asking for my sister, and I felt a chill run down my spine. The thing was, everyone we knew was aware of her passing, so who could possibly be asking for her? The man on the other end of the line identified himself as "Tom." I explained the situation, and the call ended. But a couple of days later, I mentioned the call to my sister’s best friend. She went white as sheet, and her response chilled me to the bone.
She told me that "Tom" had also been killed in an auto accident weeks ago, so he couldn't have called.
When my father was in the hospital, my mother stayed with me since my apartment was right next to the hospital. One night, I had a dream where my mom answered the phone and learned that my dad had passed. She hung up and told me that my uncle, who was a doctor at the hospital, just told her that it had happened. I woke up startled and went to get water. Just as I started to relax and calm down, the phone rang. My mom picked it up, and I saw tears start falling down her face. She hung up and said that my uncle said that my father had just passed.
My son stared at the corner and said, “Why is that man watching us? And why does his head like this?” Then he turned his head at a sharp angle, similar to how a hanging victim would look.
My father passed when I was 15. In my freshman year of college, my roommate and I were close but had only known each for a month when this happened. She was not aware about my childhood, but she knew that I lost my father. And one night, she woke me up and asked, “Did your father use to call you (pet name)?" My blood ran cold.
I hadn't heard that name since I was little and I definitely never told her about it. She had a dream that my father asked her to take care of me calling me by this pet name. My dad missed my high school graduation, but I guess he saw it wherever he is now.
I used to work in a skilled nursing facility. I was usually assigned to the Alzheimer's ward. One night I'm in the linen room stocking my cart, and I heard someone shuffle up behind me, then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and there was no one else in the room. The door was still shut too. Another lady started to complain that a man was coming into her room at night (again, Alzheimer's so I didn't think much of it).
So to reassure her, I told her I'd check on her throughout the night. She complained of this man every single night for two more weeks when I asked her to describe him to me. "He's real handsome, and wears a black suit. Oh. He's right behind you now, honey." That freaked me the heck out. Of course, there was no one behind me. She died the next night in her sleep.
My little girl is three. We've always had creepy incidents, but a few weeks back things hit on a whole new level. She kept pointing near the bedroom window and talking about the boy with no eyes. She said he was crying because he wanted me to be his mum.
Heard my dog walking around at midnight, you know, nails hitting the floor. Got annoyed that he was waltzing all over the place, and I couldn't sleep, so I shouted "freaking stop with your stuff already" from my bed. Sounds stopped. Realized a moment later that he's been dead for a year and there's no one else supposed to be in the house.
Ran around with my baseball bat in my hand for 10 minutes but couldn't find anything... or anyone...
I remember reading in the living room when I heard the most beautiful violin melody. I listened to the whole thing which was several minutes long. I walked to compliment my brother on his masterpiece...and that's when I realized I was completely alone.
I was with my sister, her husband, and their 2-year-old daughter. We were talking about loved ones that had recently passed—my father had died sometime recently. My brother-in-law went and grabbed a picture of his mother, who had died in a car crash when he was six, to show me. When my niece saw the picture though she started laughing.
We asked her what was so funny and she looked at us and said: "that's my special friend who sings to me." I still shiver a bit just thinking about it.
When I was about nine years old back in the 1970s, I was playing football in the street. A bus came along, so I jumped onto the pavement. As it passed, I noticed my aunt, and she smiled and waved to me. When the bus had gone, I carried on playing. I went home several hours later. That's when my mom told me that my aunt had passed the previous evening.
My dorm in college was...strange. Once, I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. The sink was right next to the entrance, and as I washed my face, I saw and heard the door open and noticed a figure move to the end of the stalls. I just figured that another girl had come in to use the bathroom. I dried off my face and started brushing my teeth, but I realized that I couldn’t hear anyone else. I checked each stall, and no one was in there. I quickly grabbed my stuff and noped out.
My mom tells me that when I was a really small child we would visit my grandfather's house and often spend the night. She says that once, in the middle of the night, she woke up and I wasn't in the bed (young enough to co-bed).
She got up and I was standing in the living room with my hand in the air like I was holding someone's hand and I said something along the lines of "I can’t go with you because my mom didn't say I could." We didn't spend the night at my grandfather's house again for another decade.
I was playing football with my friend and younger brother in a remote park. We thought we had it to ourselves, but then we saw three or four people came wearing Victorian-style clothing. They came in and put a box underneath a tree with big branches. Then they tied a rope around it, and one of them stood there with the noose around his neck. Then, his friend kicked the box so that he was hanging. They took turns doing this, and we left. It was super weird thinking back to it, and I have to check with my brother whenever I think about it to make sure it actually happened.
On one floor of the hospital, there is a room where different patients often complain of hearing noisy children playing between 1-4 am. This room is on the far end of the unit away from the nurses' station and next to only one other room. The TV is always off at the time. My hospital does not have a pediatric section and visiting hours are over at 2100.
I always kind of entertained the idea of the paranormal, but my first experience really solidified that belief. I live in the rural countryside with lots of wildlife. Anyway, it was late at night, and I was driving down the road a little faster than I should be, when my dad shouts, "STOP!" I slammed on my brakes and this massive elk-sized deer runs in front of the road.
What’s so creepy about that? My dad's been dead for a few years. I'm short and have to sit really close to the steering wheel, so I'm sure I wouldn’t have lived if I hit the deer. I pulled to the side of the road and cried.
My kid's Catholic school is over 100 years old. There is a basement under the gym that's used for storage. I was subbing once and, during recess, one of the kickballs rolled down the stairs. A little girl was standing at the top of the stairs yelling "Just throw it up to me." I went over and asked who she was talking to and she replied "That big man at the bottom of the stairs!"
I went down and there was nobody there. There was no other way in and hardly anyone ever even went down there. I asked some of the other kids if they have seen the man before and they said: "Yes, but Sister told us not to talk to him." I asked them to describe this "sister" and they described a nun. There haven't been nuns at the school in 40 years...
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.
My now 11-year-old daughter had an "imaginary" friend when she was five. Her name was Elizabeth and according to my daughter, "She has dark hair but some of it is orange looking like it's dirty from Koolaid. She has a bloody and messed up leg and she limps because she was run over. Not run over by a car because it didn’t have an engine. She is darker than me like she has a really good tan."
As though that wasn't creepy enough, one day she asked if she could have a sleepover with Elizabeth. We say "sure" and then my five-year-old starts walking towards with woods with a backpack. I rush out to stop her, and remind her of our rules about not going into the woods alone. She's really upset because apparently "Elizabeth" lives in the woods, and that's where the sleepover was supposed to happen.
It gets creepier. A year after all this, the county finally decided to repave the nearby road. When speaking with the project manager, we found out that the road was actually the end of the Trail of Tears and that somewhere back here was the site of an ambush that resulted in the deaths of several children, and adults when they were crushed by rushing wagons.
I once had a dream where my grandma was on a bus. It stopped near my grandfather and I, and she wanted me to go along. My grandfather kept insisting that I couldn’t go. The bus left as she was going to "the big casino in the sky." She loved the casinos. I woke up just after the phone call saying she had passed in her sleep.
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?" Scared like crazy, I went to the living room to see if the message would still be there (like turning it off and on again). When I came back..."You know, I'm not like cake. I'm still here when you get back."
Truly scared by now, I get my dad. And like every cliché horror movie, the message ain't there.
I was working in a retail store in a pretty sketchy area. There was this lady who was obviously a heavy substance user or had been one. She must’ve been in her 50s or 60s. She was notorious on my block for being crazy, but she would visit me all the time and said she thought I was cute. It was really bizarre. Especially so because she looked like an addict, but she’d act like a teenage girl around me.
I tried to be nice because she was known for being volatile. On Christmas Eve, she packed an entire Christmas dinner, which was all home-cooked Guyanese food and a cologne set. On her way out, she just squatted down. Then she threw her hands up and started cackling. She laughed hysterically for almost five straight minutes and then abruptly walked out. I never saw her again.
My son was two. He was in a pattern of waking us up at about 5:00 am every morning. One morning I took him downstairs and plopped him in front of the TV so I could try to go back to sleep for about 30 minutes on the couch (right by him). I woke up a few minutes later and he was standing in the foyer, pointing into the kitchen, laughing. He then said, "Mommy is floating in the kitchen."
I didn't think much of it...went back to sleep for a bit. About 30 minutes later his mom came downstairs having just woken up, saying she "had one of those weird dreams where she flew out of her body, went downstairs and found herself in the kitchen."
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.
It was my final year at university, and I was working as a TA for a language professor. I basically lived in the known-to-be-haunted Humanities building. One Tuesday between my last class and first lesson, I was in the staff room using the microwave to heat up my dinner. A woman I’d never seen before came in. She gave an obligatory, "Lemme just scooch past ya and check the time on the coffee machine."
I found it weird that a university employee came here just to check the time on the coffee machine. You don't have a phone, computer, watch, or clock? But who was I to judge? She checked the time. And then she said, "That can't be right. What time is it?" I said, “Uh, it’s 5:37,” and she said, “Hm, five minutes fast. Okay.” With that she left, and although a bit odd, I didn’t dwell on the interaction...until one week later.
On a Tuesday evening while I was again heating up my food, she entered. She gave the obligatory, “lemme just scooch past ya and check the time…that can't be right. What time is it?" So, I checked my phone; It was exactly 5:37. I told her, and once more, she said, "hm, five minutes fast. Okay," and left. Deeply unsettled, I grabbed my food and hurried upstairs. I never saw her again.
My little sister was about three years old and we were getting ready to go to our uncle's house for dinner. She was being really fussy and didn't want to get changed so my dad asks her, "Don't you want to go to uncle Dan's house?" She then responded, saying, "No, I don't like the man in the ceiling." We thought it was an odd thing to say, but didn't give much thought.
A few years later we were helping my uncle sell the house and it came out that someone had died by suicide in the attic back in the 90s.
I got a very creepy phone call once. A distraught woman called me up one day demanding to know where her son was, saying he’s been missing for two weeks. I had no idea who she was and I certainly didn't know her son. She was calling from a state that I have never even visited. I asked her how she got my number and she said that she found it written on a piece of paper, along with my name, in her son's desk.
Needless to say, I was creeped out. I really didn't think that I could help her in any way, so I politely ended the conversation. I never heard from the woman again and even though I googled around for a missing kid in the area, I couldn't find anything.
My bestie and I were sleeping over at her grandma’s house and enjoying the newly renovated attic. It was just two 15-year-olds painting nails, watching DVDs, and talking about the hottest gossip at school. It was already 3 AM when we decided to get some sleep. A couple minutes later, we sat bolt upright. We heard scratching followed by a big bang coming from the other room.
One of the paintings was lying on the floor almost four and a half yards away from where it was supposed to be. It wasn’t as if the screw broke, so then it fell off. Nope. It was a solid four and half yards away from that wall. The holes in the wall looked like something grabbed that painting and pulled it straight out, ripping the drywall out around it. I’m still getting goosebumps remembering it.
When I was about twelve, a guy followed me home from school and subsequently tried to break into my house. 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; kicked my shoes off, turned on the TV, grabbed a snack out of the fridge, and let my two dogs in from outside. 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.
My 3-year-old daughter was going through the monsters under her bed phase. It lasted for weeks, and it was really wearing on her mom and me. One night after mom tried to put her to bed, she tagged me in. After 30 minutes, I grew pretty frustrated. In a last ditch attempt, I promised my daughter that there weren't any monsters under her bed.
She replied, "I know. Now, they're behind you." After that, I let her sleep with us for a week.
I was in bed when the sound of steps on my roof tiling woke me up. I think I was about 13 at the time. I saw a shadow walk past my skylight and was unsure of what it was. I looked outside my window and saw a man dressed in all black looking out from the construction scaffolding. Then he looked into my window. I tried to hide, and my brother saw him too. We never found out what happened to him, but we did report it.
When my oldest son was about 3 years old, he said: "Mommy, I like you better than my fake mommy." Naturally, I asked, "Who's your fake mommy?" He replied "You can't see her. She tucks me in after you do." Okay then…
On a road trip, my friend and I were hungry and went looking for food in a town in Maryland. I don't remember the name of the town, but it felt very strange as soon as we pulled onto the main road as there didn't seem to be any people out and about. It was the middle of the day, but no one was walking around. There weren't any restaurant food options other than this pizza place, so we pulled up and parked in front of the pizza place.
It seemed like everybody in the town must have gone to that pizza place. When we parked the car, everyone in the restaurant turned and looked at our car through the big glass windows. They all did at the same time. They stared at us. We stared at them. It felt so weird that I said, "I don't want to go in there." My friend just nodded at me wide-eyed, and we drove to another town for lunch.
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 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.
Happened to my wife, not me. We 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 sexual assaults and/or robberies"... So that was nerve-wracking.
A number of years ago, I was using an online chat site and talking to a woman who claimed to live around 50 miles from me. We chatted quite happily for a couple of days. Then on the third day, a Saturday night, she was online, and we were talking, but she seemed different somehow. Something didn’t seem right. She explained that she was drinking, and I assumed that was the reason behind the melancholy.
We kept chatting, and she turned on her camera so I could see her. Over a couple of hours of chatting, her mood seemed to grow darker, and she seemed distressed. But she was hesitant and wouldn’t elaborate any further. She left and returned about 30 minutes later and appeared drunker and more distressed. This time she had a stack of tablets on the table. She claimed that she couldn’t go on and started to take tablet after tablet. I had no idea what the medication was.
Her speech was getting more and more incoherent. Then, I found myself in a terrible position. Was I watching someone take their own life on a live stream, totally unable to do anything? All that I had was a name and a town, both of which could be false. I made the excuse of needing the toilet and left the room and took the opportunity to call my local authorities and explained the situation. They took what details I knew, and I was told to go back and try and keep her talking and try and get further details from her. A plain-clothes representative came over.
Whilst I was chatting to her, he pulled up the chat logs and history on his laptop. By this time, her speech was becoming more and more incoherent, and the camera had been knocked over, so it was impossible to see her. Soon, we had lost connection. Was this all real? Was it all fake? I had no idea of knowing. During this time, the guy was on the phone with the station giving them what information he had been able to obtain. He then left leaving me to contemplate.
The next evening, someone called who wanted to thank me from the station. They’d managed to trace her through her IP address and had been able to attend. Apparently it had been a genuine suicide attempt, and she had been taken to hospital and was subsequently undergoing treatment.
I had a music teacher who took his 4-year-old daughter to an old theater in Alaska. She started crying immediately when she walked in, so he took her outside and she stopped crying. He took her back in, she started crying again, so he took her outside again. He asked why she was crying, and she said: "That's where the people with no eyes watch you."
My twin sister and I both caught scarlet fever when we lived in India. We fell into a coma near the end. One day, I woke up to my mom and aunt screaming, crying, and holding my sister as she was unresponsive and not breathing. They were doing chest compressions, CPR, etc., but nothing was working. I was desperately trying to get their attention because I was young and did not understand what was going on. I went back to my room to sleep, but in the corner of the room where my sister’s bed was, I saw her laying there breathing fine.
I went back out to the living room and that's when I learned the awful truth. I wasn't looking at my sister. I was actually looking at myself in my mom’s arms as she was trying to revive me. Eventually, I saw my eyes flicker open, and then everything went dark. I woke up a few weeks later in the hospital next to my sister and mom who ended up catching it because of us. My mom told me that they almost lost me, and they were trying to wake me up, but I was unresponsive, so the ambulance took all three of us into the ICU. To this day, I am still unsure how I witnessed my almost end.
My father was my grandmother’s favorite kid partially because he was the youngest out of the 10 children my grandparents had. She nicknamed him “little mountain” as the last character in his Chinese name meant mountain. I remember going to her funeral when she passed, and we were burning paper money. It was for her to use in the afterlife, and it’s a Taiwanese/Chinese tradition.
I vividly remember watching my dad picking up some half-burnt money and making a strained noise. It was burnt in such a way that it resembled the character in his name even down to the middle prong being longer than the other two. I’m seriously not religious or superstitious, but that was probably the closest I have ever gotten to believing in the supernatural.
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.
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 just lying around everywhere.
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 definitely a large woman (not fat, but just very large).
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? Not super spooky, but it was very scary for me at least.
When I was 4, I hated tying my shoes. I was terrible at it, and progress was not happening. One morning, I was throwing a fit because my mom told me to tie my shoes before we left the house, and I was trying to avoid this awful responsibility while yelling and screaming on the step of the staircase. The ceiling above the staircase extended from the second floor horizontally to the space above the first step where it met a vertical wall that connected the second-floor ceiling to that of the first. I was screaming on one of the lower steps, and my gaze drifted upwards after a few minutes. I stopped crying.
I went silent. I distinctly remember seeing a man in a sharp black suit with the head of a boar all blue and complete with tusks and fur bracing himself in the corner of the ceiling like a ninja above my head staring down at me. He didn't say anything, but I knew what he wanted. My mom asked me what happened. She noticed my abrupt change in mood and started to ask what happen, and I cut her off in a monotone voice saying only, "he told me to be good."
My best friend lived on a farm in the UK that had been in her family for 300 years. They had a completely open attic without beams. It was super light and airy so one light, we decided to have a sleepover up there. My friend said she thought there might be squirrels living there as she heard scratching and banging around regularly. So, we crept up the rickety old stairs whispering to be quiet, feeling brave but scared.
As we got up to the attic itself, there was an odd “vibe.” The closest I can think of is the sensation you get when you know something bad could happen just before you trip and your stomach falls. We both felt the same thing. Still, we poked around this huge space and found nothing unusual, and that was that. Then we turned to leave, and the scribbling scratching started from what seemed like only a few feet away.
My friend grabbed the torch and swung it around with both of us expecting a tiny animal and trying not to yell or wake her parents. Nothing. By that point, the hairs on the back of our necks were on end. We were about ready to run back down the stairs when we did a final sweep with the torch. That was when we saw what was like a mass of hair with stick legs and arms? It was bigger than tall and skinny 13-year-old me.
It skittered up the wall next to the window so fast it was like a house spider running under a sofa. It disappeared into a dark corner, and in those seconds, we turned and ran with the sound of “scritch, scritch,” following us as we slammed the door and set the bolt. Her mum was NOT happy we’d been exploring. They hadn’t had anyone check the space for years for structural integrity. All I know is, after a talking-to, we didn’t sleep that night, and a few weeks later, I slept over, and they’d moved her bedroom to one of the downstairs reception rooms.
I work at an adult novelty store, so please envision the kind of patrons I get. I had this regular who was nice, and we would exchange pleasantries. One day, we said goodbye, and on his way out, he stopped right in his tracks and came back. He said that he usually ignored it, but it wouldn’t let him that day. So naturally, I asked him what the heck he was talking about.
He proceeded to tell me that there was an older Black man who was always with me 24/7. He saw him every time that I was in the store. The older man just stood next to me watching me and smiling. At that moment, I felt a chill run up my spine. No one knew in that store besides my boss that I’m half Black and was extremely close to my 65-year-old Black father who had passed in 2014.
I said the usual, “wow” and “oh my god,” so I wouldn’t give anything away to see if he’s being legit. The customer proceeded to tell me that the man, my father, was sad. He was sad about his kids not doing what he’d asked and was greatly disappointed in one in particular. The man also wanted to tell me how much he loves his wife even though she remarried. By then, I had tears in my eyes because there was no way this man knew about conflict I had with my siblings about my dad.
How would this man know my mother was married again? He kept mentioning that he could feel this strong religious pull with my father. My father had been a preacher. He told me a bunch of other things and asked if I was pregnant. I said I wasn’t, but apparently, my next baby was going to have my father’s soul. My 2-year-old son looks like my father and loves his favorite songs. I have never seen that man again.
Three years ago our very elderly next door neighbor died suddenly in her house. They found her body five days later in the kitchen. Fast forward to last summer. I'm sitting in my house watching a movie and all of the sudden about eight police cars come out of nowhere sirens blaring lights on and most park by that empty house. Some park in my driveway so I went outside to see what was up.
A police officer went through the quick formalities and asked if I had seen anything strange in the past five minutes. I replied no and rather hesitantly asked what was going on. He said that the police department received a call from the house and when the operator picked up the line went dead. I stayed at a friend's that night.
My daughter was about 3 when we were on a family vacation in a state park lodge. Our room had exposed wood ceiling beams to match the décor. It was supposed to be nap time for my daughter, but instead she was quietly playing by herself and just chatting away while the wife and I were reading on the other bed. Out of nowhere, my daughter turned and asked for a piece of rope.
I asked why she needed it, and she nonchalantly explained, “it’s for my friend. The purple girl on the ceiling.” My wife asked, “what friend?” My daughter told us, “I’ve been talking with the little purple girl hanging from that wood up there.” While she said that, she pointed to the ceiling beam. And then she asked me for another piece of rope. Nap time was decidedly over, and we quickly exited the room.
I was driving with somebody through a very odd, small town in Arizona. As soon as we entered the city limits, I felt this extreme heaviness; it was surreal, dark, almost like a shroud of evil. As soon as we exited the limits, we both, not having spoken in a few minutes, said, “did you feel that?” We both did. It was really weird. About a month later, I was reading Time Magazine or something, and there was an article about that town and how it is so well known for cult-like polygamy and child-marriage, etc. That explained a lot.
Running through a large field in the middle of a nice neighbourhood, I got tired sprinting halfway and reached to hold onto a tiny tree and felt what I can only describe as claws like bugles on your fingertips wrapped around my hand. I noped out and ran back to my friends. I still have no clue what that was.
Back when I was 9, my friend and I were having a sleepover. His parents were at dinner, and his brother was out. it was probably 9 PM, and his parents had just called to tell us that they would be out for a little while longer. We were young and playing games on the Xbox 360. Then we heard his front door open, which made a very noticeable, creaky, almost eerie noise. We shrugged it off thinking it was probably just his brother, who was home, and kept playing.
Then, we heard footsteps above us. Again, we thought nothing of it because his kitchen was above the basement where we were playing games. Then there was a scratching sound at the basement door. We looked at each other. Then, we heard a scratching on the window. We were terrified, and we stayed seated with one of us looking at the door and the other looking at the window. Then, again, there was scratching at the door. I opened it with his baseball bat and nothing. We barricaded the door and put things in front of the window.
We didn’t hear anything for the next half an hour and eventually fell asleep. The next morning, his dad came down and knocked on the door and tried to get down to the basement. We took down the barricade, and his dad came into the room angry, “why did you guys rip open the screen door?!” So, we went upstairs. Sure enough, the front door’s screen was shredded.
We tried to convince him that it wasn’t us and that the brother had done it to scare us. But what he said next made our blood run cold, “Jim wasn’t home last night. We dropped him off in the city with friends.” My friend lived half hour an away from the city. My friend and I looked at each other and couldn’t speak. His parents didn’t believe us. They called my parents, and my friend and I had to split the cost to replace the screen door and the basement door that also had scratch marks. We still bring it up!
I was definitely atheist before this, and now I don’t know what to believe. Last fall, I had an odd dream about my late grandmother. We were in some casino playing blackjack, and we were just catching up. She looked young again, and she was wearing a very lovely black dress. We drank, and laughed, and played. A week later, at my sister's birthday party, she was talking to one of our cousins about a dream she had a week prior about our late grandmother! Detail for detail, it was the same dream that I had and hadn’t told anyone. The difference? My grandma and I played blackjack. They played poker. It was so strange.
In Okinawa, there was a house near the USO on Kadena Air Force Base that was abandoned. A man killed himself and his family in it. It was said to be haunted. It was even part of the ghost tours they gave on base. Reports said that the outside lights would turn on by themselves and creepy things would happen. One story was that a woman could be seen washing her hair in the sink in the kitchen through a window.
The creepiest thing by far was that this house shared a chain link fence with the daycare building. My friend’s mom worked at the daycare. Children, four to five years old, would constantly throw toys over the fence. When asked why they said they wanted to play with the children on the other side. All of the kids saw these other children, but the adults could not.
It thoroughly freaked out anyone who worked there.
A friend of mine from college had a project for his astronomy class and he needed to take progression pictures of a constellation over the course of a night. He went out to a field in the middle of nowhere and set up his camera on a timer next to his truck, where he slept that night. The next morning, he looked through his pictures—and his blood ran cold. He sees a picture of the constellation, picture of the constellation...picture of him sleeping in his truck...picture of the constellation, picture of the constellation.
I worked at a public pool, I would work alone after hours cleaning the building, and the pool. One night around 2 am, I'm cleaning the change rooms. The pool has been closed for four hours at this time. I hear the sound of a child's laughter and bare feet running across the pool deck. I go out and scan the area; there's nobody in sight.
The doors are all closed and locked, there is nowhere a kid could be hiding. No wet footprints on the pool deck. I re-check the doors and the security monitors. I am the only person in the building. It was unsettling.
When my mom worked as an ER nurse, a guy came in from a car accident and was losing blood. In the midst of resuscitation, the man jolts awake and screams "Don't let me go back there! Please, please, please don't let me go back!" A few seconds later they lost him.
A girlfriend, M, moved in with me BUT warned me, “there’s a man that follows me. He’s not evil or anything like that, but he doesn’t like men.” That should have been the time I noped way out of my own home, but I was in love and just accepted her odd statement – until a few months later when I was home alone. M had just left for work, and I was showering. I heard the bathroom door open and hit the dresser behind it. I looked to my right and saw a shadow through the curtain. I jokingly said out loud, “oh, you’re back for some bonus shower time?” As I opened the curtain, nobody was there. I was still home by myself.
A few days later, I came home from work and hung my keys on the hook like I always did and walked away. An hour went by when I noticed my keys rocking back and forth on the hook. Minutes turned into hours as my keys kept rocking. Finally, M came home, looked at me, looked at the keys, and asked me “how long?” I just stared at her as she stopped the keys as if it’d always happened.
Another time, I was in the bathroom on my knees as I scrubbed the tub. I felt as though somebody was next to me breathing on me. As I jerked away, a hand grabbed my leg and yanked me towards the bathroom door, and then there was nothing.
That night, I was out with a group of friends. I was telling them what was happening, and at the end, the light above us flickered and shut off. As we all looked up to the light, my chair got picked up and thrown into the table. I turned to scold the jerk behind me, but nobody was there. Everyone just stared. But the scariest happened late one night when M was downstairs in bed.
I was turning off the lights when I heard our laundry room door close and footsteps going to the bedroom. My brain was thinking M was awake, so I went to the bedroom. I opened the door to the sound of her softly snoring. Then, I turned around. I was hit with the loveliest smell I’ve ever experienced. It was the smell of my late nana’s home where her perfume was everywhere. After that moment, the man was gone. It’s like she came to my home and removed his presence. I can’t explain it. All I know is that I haven’t smelled that scent in over 20 years.
I used to live in a house with two roommates Anna and Erica. I lived on the second floor, and Anna and Erica lived downstairs. Every night, I would hear a, "thud, thud" coming from downstairs. I would investigate, and it always came from Anna's room. I thought it was her doing burpees or working out at night. I was so wrong.
One night, I went to Anna's door, and it sounded like she's hitting herself against a wall and whispering and crying or laughing. I noticed when she left the room, her sheets were all scattered on the floor. I asked Erica about it, and she told me she heard it too. Anna started sleeping at her parent’s house more often. But every time she came home, there was the same "thud, thud" noise. We started asking her about it, and she had excuses like "I was moving furniture" or "my porch door was swinging open." It was so strange. I don’t think we'll ever know.
When my son was about two or three, he wouldn't go to sleep so I let him into my bed. My husband was asleep, so I told my boy he had to look at his books quietly while I read mine. He was good for a bit, but then he suddenly started reading the book. Actually reading the words out loud. Slowly. He couldn't read and it was a newer book we hadn't read to him yet.
It wasn't memorization. I asked him how he knew what it said and he replied: "my friend John is telling me." Scared the hell out of me.
My brother took his own life in 2010. We had him airlifted 100 miles from his house to the town nearer to us because it's larger and has better hospitals. His wife was the only person who lived with him and drove to the hospital and leaving the house locked. She’d left his phone in his home office that night. The next morning, I got a call from his cellphone. I answered, but nobody was on the other end. I said "hi" a couple times with no response; I finally said, "everything is ok," and the line immediately disconnected. I never got a call from that number again.
There was this abandoned school turned World War I military hospital near my house that my friend and I liked to break into. One day, we were rooting around the third floor and we found an empty envelope on the floor of a closet. It was old, and the address was written in script. It only had a name on it. That name on it was the exact same as my friend’s name, whose name is rather uncommon. We booked it out of there real fast.
We lost my grandfather several years ago after many years of dialysis. As he aged, we were told his treatment would not last forever and would become less effective. They would have had to stop it eventually. He was 83 when he passed. Always fit and healthy, the dialysis kept him going a good few extra years. He was unwell and taken to hospital. His dialysis was stopped, and we were told he would probably have about 48-72 hours left. So, our family went to the hospital and stayed in the room with him as much as we could. They made him comfortable and were plying him with medications to make sure he wasn’t in pain.
As he neared the end, he was in and out of a lucid state. He was mostly in a slumber almost living memories mumbling and muttering. If he was awake, he would stare transfixed at some spot on the ceiling talking to somebody as clear as day, and then he would drift off again. This would happen the entire night. Moments before he passed, he sat up staring at this point on the ceiling talking clearly and holding my grandmother’s hand. He turned to her and looked her right in the eyes and said that they were asking him if he wanted to take a message over to anyone, and he asked her if she had anything to say to anyone.
When my grandmother said there wasn’t, he lay back down, closed his eyes, and passed peacefully. The whole room was silent. Every single hair on my body was on end. I’m not religious, but felt I needed to start praying. My mother who has been a nurse for many years caring for elderly said that happened a lot.
When I was around 12, my mother had to go out of town, and she left me home alone for a few days. We lived close to relatives, so it wasn't a big deal then. She refused to give me a mobile phone because she figured she could just call me on the landline if anything came up. She let me know when she’d be back. The day she was supposed to be back arrived, and I heard my mom knocking on the door downstairs calling my name.
My dog who loved her got excited when she heard her voice and went down ahead to greet her. She got to the door, freaked out, and ran back upstairs to me. Then I refused to go down to open the door. The phone started ringing, and the knocking stopped. I picked up the phone to hear my mom say, "Hey, I'm sorry. I have to stay one more day here. I'll head home tomorrow."
I was watching Degrassi with two friends at one of their houses. During a commercial break, the screen abruptly cut to static. We had the black boxed, white font subtitles on, and they started saying things like “Help me” and “I’m trapped.” It was back in 2006, so I can’t remember exactly what else was written, but it freaked us out to say the least and we shut the TV off. No one believed us afterward.
My grandmother died on my ninth birthday. She was pretty sick, skin cancer. She went into the hospital during Hurricane Bob and stayed there until she passed. I remember things got pretty bad that New Year’s so my parents went to the hospital and my aunt was watching us. I remember laying in bed, praying (and I'm not religious at all) that she'd be okay and, if she wouldn't be okay, that she'd at least be happy in heaven.
I was also extremely sad that she was going to miss my birthday (New Year's Day...also, kind of selfish of me as a nine-year-old). At around 11:30 pm that night, I woke up to someone calling my name out in the hallway. When I went to look, nobody was there. I checked all the bedrooms, the kitchen, etc. Everyone was asleep so there was no way my aunt or brother were calling my name.
I figured I just heard it in my dreams and went back to bed. As I was trying to fall back asleep, I distinctly (like, clear as day) remember hearing my grandmother. I couldn't see her, but I could certainly feel her and hear her. I can't say for certain I wasn't dreaming, but if I was, this was the most lucid dream I've ever had. She said to me: "I held on for as long as I could so I wouldn't miss your birthday. My present will be a little late (sarcastic laugh). It will be here next year. Happy Birthday!"
Then silence. 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 I was little my family went to Mexico for a holiday vacation. I was playing in the ocean when I felt myself being pulled out to sea. My parents were distracted, but I remember looking up at my sister screaming just as my head went under the water. I’m not sure how long I was underwater, but two guys came out of nowhere, dragged me out of the water, and as quickly as they appeared, they were gone.
My parents looked all over the beach and never found them.
My daughter Madison told me, at around age three, about "Kellum," the man with brown pants and a yellow shirt that played with her. I assumed it was an imaginary friend because... well that's what kids do. Then one day, she starts singing a song I'd never heard before. "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer doooo. I'm half-crazy all for the love of youuuuu," then she'd mumble a few words and pick back up with "a bicycle built for twooo."
I assumed she'd heard it from her babysitter, but when I asked about it, the babysitter tells me she thought my husband and I taught her the song because she didn't know it either. So I asked my daughter where she'd heard the song and she tells me "Kellum taught it to me. He sings it to his baby." Eventually, Kellum faded away.
Fast forward to about five years ago, I'm telling the story to a coworker who recognized the song as an old tune called, "Bicycle Built for Two.” That prompted us to start looking on ancestry.com at my property address history. I start following rabbit holes and found out that in the 40s, a man named Callum Beasley owned the property next to ours. He was the father of five children, youngest died at age three. Her name was Madeline.
We used to live in a battered women's and children's shelter when I was young because my father was looking for us. One night, I looked in a mirror and saw a hairy demon looking back at me. I screamed, cried, and went to get my mom who assured me it was a normal mirror. At night, there was a kind looking man. I can only describe him as a ghost that appeared at the end of my bed.
He was there all night but would be gone in the morning. Then again, the next night, and the next. He was there every night for four months. We never talked; he never moved and just stood guard. Then, one night, everything changed. He woke me up from my sleep. I'll never forget how surprised I was because I'd never seen him move or talk. He said, "he's coming. Get out now." We packed up the car and left for a hotel for the night. The next morning, we went back to learn that someone had broken in and went from room to room looking for someone. I never saw him again.
My three-year-old while eating dinner told me there was a man on the balcony with red eyes with his mouth gaping open, like a scream face...we live on the third floor and the only access to that balcony is from inside. Needless to say, I didn’t turn around. He’s said so many weird things. We live in a really, really old apartment, and I don’t believe in ghosts, but he creeps me out.
He’s also mentioned a little boy upside down scratching at the ceiling—just casually like it was nothing.
When I was a kid, I had a beloved black cat named Naruto. He passed away when I was in my teens, but I continued to have dreams about him for years afterward. One day after I moved out, I was having a nap. Naruto was in my dream, and at one point he reached out and scratched my face. I woke up with a start only to find the room blanketed in smoke. My roommate had forgotten food in the oven and left. I was able to get out and the fire department came, putting out what was, at that point, a large fire. I never saw Naruto in my dreams again after that, but I’m convinced he saved my life.
My uncle works for emergency dispatch in my town and he recently told my family of the weirdest call he's ever gotten. He says that he had received a call from a landline one night and when he answered it there was only static on the other end. This happened two more times. Finally, he calls a squad to go check out the address from the caller ID.
When the cops got there and walked into the house they immediately saw that there was a dead body. The person had been dead for five months. The craziest part about it was that there was no electricity or any other utility working. So there is no way they should have been able to get those calls into dispatch. But if they hadn't, who knows how long that person’s body would have stayed there.
When I was about nine years old, I went boat camping with my best friend Rachel and her family. Rachel's family consisted of her older brother Ian (who was 12), her mom Linda, her stepdad Larry, and Larry's brother and his girlfriend. Growing up in Oregon, "boat camping" is when you would fill up your boat with all of your camping supplies, then cruise along the shoreline of a river or lake, and pick out a spot to camp.
Usually, it was a great experience to be out in nature, away from the usual annoyances of camping with strangers in a campground. However, the only way in or out was by boat, and this was in the early 90s before cell phones. We had found a great spot along the Columbia River and set up camp. We ate dinner together, and then the adults drank some beers while we played in the river.
As the sun went down they started a fire, and we got ready for bed in our tent. That's when we heard arguing coming from outside. We opened our door and witnessed Larry grab Rachel's mom by the arm, swing her through the air and slam her onto the ground. She screamed in pain. We could tell Larry was drunk. He drank often and was usually an angry drunk.
Larry's brother put Linda into the boat to take her to the hospital, leaving us there with drunk Larry and only his brother's girlfriend to supervise. Larry began to throw everything in sight into the fire. Lawn chairs, a boom box, beer bottles. "The Girlfriend" tried to stop him, but he smacked her in the face and she ran off into the woods behind camp.
As if he could feel us watching him, Larry suddenly turned to our tent and started making his way towards Rachel and me. We tried to zip the door closed, but he shoved his head inside. "You kids are freaking worthless! You don't deserve to live! I should drown you in the river right now!" We were cowering in fear, trapped in the tent.
Then Rachel's brother came up from behind him and hit Larry over the head with a rock, knocking him out. We scurried out of the tent and all ran into the woods to hide. We had been running for about five minutes when "The Girlfriend" called out to us. She was hiding up in a tree. We decided this was our best option so we found other trees nearby and climbed up.
We waited up there in the dark for what felt like hours before Rachel's mom came looking for us. Her arm was in a sling; Larry had dislocated her shoulder. She informed us that Larry's brother had taken him to the hospital for his head injury, so we were safe. We climbed down from the trees and spent the night at camp.
The next day Larry's brother returned to take us all home. To this day, I can't believe they left us there with that alcoholic monster. We told Rachel's mom what happened after they left, that Larry had threatened to drown us, and she begged me not to tell my parents. My mom is my best friend though, so of course, I told her right away.
Rachel's mom actually stayed with Larry after that, so I was no longer allowed to play at her house. While it was a terrifying experience, I decided that I would never date anyone who was physically abusive, and I never have.
Cop here. One night I was on patrol with my partner when we get called to respond to an alarm activation at the elementary school. So we go, secure the building, and call in that the building is all secure. No problem, keep patrolling. About 15-20 minutes go by and we get another alarm activation. We get back out there and check and now there is a maintenance door open that leads into a boiler roomish thing. Nothing in it, we close it, lock it and get out.
Another 20 minutes and another alarm. We respond, all the doors are still locked and we can't get in, maintenance door is locked. Call in the all clear. This time my buddy and I sit on opposite sides of the building and watch to see if someone is coming and yanking the doors real hard to set the alarm off. Half an hour passes and right as we're about to leave, another alarm activates. We give up and call the building custodian.
Building custodian shows up and we start doing a walk through. That's when we see it: One of the maintenance doors is open with the lights on in the room. Now, this room is literally the size of a closet. We walk down there and look in, no one's in it and that door is locked when it closes. We look in there and we find a single footprint of a barefoot made of water (Left foot as I recall) of a small child.
Freaked the living heck out of us because no one reported a missing child and the entire building was clear and still locked up. No one left, no one entered and we checked every inch of that darn place (literally a 3-hour deep sweep including ceiling tiles). To this day, my partner refuses to go into that school. I can't say I blame him.
When my sister and I were young, we both had imaginary friends, but we could both sense hers. It was like a black ball of energy. My sister claimed her imaginary friend told her its—her—name. We played with her outside, and my sister talked our mom into setting a place for her at the table a few times.
Eventually, our parents were uncomfortable with how convinced we both were of this imaginary friend and forbade all mention of her. Some years later we learned there had been a small group of Native Americans living in that area who had been wiped out about a hundred years before. The name of the group was that which my sister's imaginary friend had said was hers so long ago.
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 the hell out and haven't gone back there since.
A friend and I used to run after school, and we enjoyed doing trails where possible. There was one in particular, above a park, that went up a steep dirt hill onto a ridge that overlooked a nearby valley. It was a beautiful area to run, but a little secluded. Mostly just cows in the area. So we were running for a bit and stopped to walk, when we heard something.
Something was wrong. I don't know what it was, but when we heard it, we just froze. It was the most unnatural sound I've heard in my entire life. It was something, but whatever it was sounded so wrong that my body instinctively said "no." The only other time that my body has ever done that was when I was on a field trip to an anatomy lab years later, and the smell of the preserved corpse came up.
Something about that smell produced that same feeling in my body, that instinctively said "no." So whatever it was that we heard—that couldn't have been more than 20 or 30 feet away—made me feel the same thing that the smell of a dead body did.
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.
I once was giving blood at my school's blood drive. So they put the needle in and I passed out. The nurse just happened to leave and when I woke up I wondered why everything was wet. Then I opened my eyes and everything was soaked in my own blood. I screamed and then passed out again. Never giving blood again.
My high school is haunted. Almost every faculty member there has had an "experience." More than one teacher refuses to be there alone at night. A teacher was there working late (this is around 9:30 or so), when he hears a door slam. Thinking it was a fellow teacher or janitor messing with him, he looks out into the hall. No one was there.
He goes to investigate down the hall, when suddenly he hears a door slam. He went to check and lo and behold, no one was in there. This is an entirely brick room with no hiding places, mind you. He ran out of there real quick…
One time when I was at my grandparents’ farm, they claimed to have seen a little girl and an older woman appear on their property out of nowhere. There's a run-down old house in the woods near them who’s owner looked just like the old woman they saw. My grandpa recognized her. She used to take care of him when he was sick.
She usually only shows up when he's sick. They don't recognize the little girl, or know where they appeared from, or where they went.
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.
Six years ago 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...
About five years ago, my mom started dating a guy she met online. Right from the start, my wife and I never really liked this guy. We didn't think he was mean or anything like that, just a little creepy. He was quiet, kept his eyes closed a lot, and occasionally said odd things. Just before Christmas, my mom and this guy started having some difficulties.
My wife and I were visiting her for the holidays and she dropped all of her problems on us. We listened carefully and told her our opinions, and suggested that she would be better off without him. She already had her mind made up, though, and decided to break up with him... on Christmas Eve. We spent the night at my mom's house and got up early on Christmas morning to visit my dad.
We didn't plan to spend the night there, but we got snowed in, which was actually a nice Christmas surprise. The next day we left as soon as we could get through the snow and my wife suggested that we stop by my mom's house on the way to see if she was okay. My wife just had a really bad feeling about my mom's now ex-boyfriend.
My mom's car was in the driveway, but that doesn't mean much because she lives close enough to work that she often walks. She also never locks her door, which drives me crazy, so we let ourselves in. That's when we see dark red liquid oozing out of the refrigerator's water dispenser. It had filled up the spill container and was leaking onto the floor and had made a puddle.
My wife screamed and I freaked out. I fully expected to see my mom's head in the freezer. I nervously opened the freezer to find... a bag of frozen cherries that had been opened, crammed into the freezer so that it fell onto the ice dispenser, and melted. Mom was fine.
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.
The time I had a redneck in Cascabel, Arizona pull a shotgun on my friends and me for 'trespassing' on government land. Let's not forget he owned a ranch nearby that was littered with bones, abandoned cars and about 30 license plates from across the country hanging on his fence. Oh, and he also had dried blood all over his shirt.
A few years ago, I was home alone at night time. I was watching TV in the living room when I heard the doorbell ring. Whenever I hear the doorbell ring, I am cautious to answer it. When I’m alone, all the more. I walk up to the peephole without turning on the porch light (so they don't know if anyone is actually home or not) and look through.
It's really dark but I can see a small figure (more like a blob, around four feet high) doing some kind of dancing motion. Dipping down and oscillating its "arms" outward. Think of a person moving their arms like wings ever-so gracefully. It was pretty dark outside but this figure was very opaque, so I could see all this stuff going on.
After a few seconds, I stopped looking through the peephole because it was too freaky to look at. I regained some courage and looked back through a few minutes later, and whatever it was was gone. To this day I still don't know what that was and I get freaked out thinking about it.
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 remember this part vividly. I am on my knees sitting on my feet. I turn around to look at windows and glass door behind me.
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 basically 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.
The DECA advisor at my school takes the club members on "ghost hunts" every year. He told the story of when they got home from a competition and they did an impromptu hunt at like 10:00 at night or something. They were in the auditorium (which is considered to be the most haunted room in the building) when suddenly they hear a bunch of prop spears crash to the ground.
Of course, they turned on the lights within seconds, and no one was there. They went to check the trap door that runs under the stage, and it was still padlocked from the top side.
My dad watched his mother die of a ruptured gallbladder when he was 12 and still remembers it vividly. My sister, one day, randomly gets up almost an hour after she's gone to bed and goes up to him. The conversation went like this:
Sister: Daddy, your mommy died in a red sweater, jeans, sneakers and with her hair in a ponytail, right? And her hair was blonde?
Dad: Drops book he's reading and stares, wide-eyed, and then says Yes...
Sister: What color were her eyes?
Dad: Blue... why?
Sister: Oh, she doesn't have them anymore, just empty sockets. I was curious.
And she goes right back to bed.
My mom called me when I was out with a friend. She told me my brother didn't come home last night. She was very worried, even though this is not the weirdest thing for a 21-year-old. I went straight home, and we both felt like something bad had happened. At home, his phone was on the couch in the living room so we couldn't contact him. We called the authorities and after a week of investigation, his body was found drowned in a nearby lake. I miss him every day.
I showed up at work one night and my boss was shocked to see me—he said I’d just called in sick. Little did I know, that was just the start of a terrifying nightmare I still can’t explain. When I called home, I expected my wife to pick up, but instead, the voice on the other end...was my own.
I said in almost a scream, "Where is Ann?" He said, "Ann's in bed. Who is this?" I dropped the phone and told my boss I had to get home, and took off towards the door. I could hear him pick up the phone behind me and say "Hello?" and then start to scream. I peeled into the driveway and ran up to my front door, but I never could’ve prepared for what I saw.
My wife was sitting watching TV and was shocked at me being home. I asked her who was there and she said no one has been here. After a rather long talk with my wife, I went to call the prison to tell them what was going on, but the phone was dead. I went back to work and when I came in Dave was acting weird and asked me "How on earth are you doing this?"
He told me that when I left, he picked up the phone and the person on the other end sounded like me. He kinda freaked out and hung up the phone. A minute later as he could see my car leaving the parking lot, I had called back from home and asked what was going on. He said that I was a bit irate and said I was sick and did not feel like playing these games and was telling him to stop prank calling me and hung up.
After convincing him I had no idea what was going on we went back to work. Later, I find out that the phone line for my area had been knocked down the night before by the storm. This is absolutely the strangest thing that has ever happened to me.
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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