I'm going to repost old Goon Ghost stories because I still believe goddammi

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Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

Drewsky posted:

Who was that guy that wrote the really long ghost stories about being in the military and guarding a haunted outpost or something? Anyone remember that?

Humpermonkey.

# ? Oct 2, 2020 03:35

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# ? May 28, 2024 07:29

RFC2324: Jun 7, 2012; http 418

Coredump posted:

Humpermonkey.

who published a book of those stories

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9982478-humper-monkey

# ? Oct 2, 2020 05:49

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

RFC2324 posted:

who published a book of those stories

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9982478-humper-monkey

That is really cool as I remember reading those stories and really enjoying them. I'm being more selective with these old ghost stories now. I have a soft spot for mundane haunted house/building type stories myself.

Slimey Sue posted:

I'm pretty sure there's something unnatural going down at my family's home.

We moved in there about 12 years ago, when it was a new neighborhood. Our house was right in front of a lake and a tiny forested area, so naturally as kids it was our duty to explore the forest. One day buried under the garbage the construction workers had left behind, was a giant leg bone. We freaked, and told our parents. Without ever looking at it they told us it was probably some goose's bones. No geese have two foot long femurs. There were also rumors of a gigantic black cat, as in puma-sized, in the forest that had killed a few neighbor's cats. It wasn't until a couple of years ago that I learned our homes used to be [poltergeist]Indian land [/poltergeist] although I didn't hear anything about cemetaries.

Inside the home is a different matter altogether. Increasingly over the past few years, I've been watching TV or been on the computer downstairs when suddenly I'll hear something hit the ground upstairs, hard. I'd say it was with about the same force as dropping a computer monitor on the floor, sometimes violently. Every time I go up, everything is in perfect order.

Another time involved my dog. She's trained in a thousand different things, and one of them is that she is not allowed upstairs. She won't go upstairs unless you really praise her and call for her, and sometimes even then she'll just ignore you. If you bring her upstairs, she's a nervous wreck and will dart down at your slightest gesture. However one day while I was reading in my room, I heard a weird growling sound. I look into the hallway and my dog is sitting at the top of the stairs, staring straight down at the door to the garage, growling. I've never heard my dog growl like that, not against strangers, not when someone tries to take a treat from her, this was a very very throaty growl, made even more unusual by the fact that her hackles weren't even raised. She was just staring intently at the door, growling in a very matter-of-fact manner at something I couldn't see.

Juneko posted:

I grew up in an pretty freaky house. I was always afraid of it, I would whip myself into fear everynight and most nights I'd have my head underneath the covers.

One time I was lying in bed, just laying in bed, right after you wake, lounging a bit when all of a sudden the tv in my room came on. I didn't know what to do, I just layed there thinking I'd maybe bumped something, but remembered the remote was broken, and that's when I started to silently freak out. Scared the poo poo out of me, I was so afraid to turn the tv back off thinking maybe it'd turn itself back on, but I mustered the courage to go turn it back off.

Another time I swore I heard whispering at the edge of my bed, one hushing the other.

Another time when I was a kid me and my sister would play with barbies and pose them and take pictures. I'd taken a picture of one in front of a mirror and when I'd got the pictures back it looked like blood was running down the mirror. I wish I still had the picture, I don't know if it was because of glass streaks, so freaky, I didn't want to believe it was anything out of the ordinary so I'm not exactly sure.

My sister lived there longer than me. She said she'd see shadows move around the outside of the house.

She had this huge mirror next to her bed on the wall in the same room where I've had my incidences, the mirror being perpendicular to the bed with the bed being against the wall. She had this talking Ernie doll that would say "I feel great, I feel great, I feel great!" When you sat him up. So she was sitting on her bed one day, and it said that while laying down, and she thought that was strange, when suddenly the mirror on her wall fell down onto her back, really heavy mirror. Afterwards her doll said again "I feel great I feel great I feel great!"

Chemmy posted:

I'm sure I've posted it in the other ghost story threads, but I want to play too dammit. Here goes.

When my parents divorced, they each needed new lodging. My mother found an old house (think 18th century), and moved in. It's a lovely house. Spacious, and to think of it now, during the summer, it was always cool inside even with no air conditioning or fans. Walking inside the house, it would get 10-15 degrees colder.

I spent a good deal of time alone in the house, as I lived there from when I turned 15, until I left for college. Many times I'd heard knocks on the walls, or footsteps on the stairs. It was an old house though, and old houses settle. That makes sense. The same thing could be said for the cold. The house was always dark inside, despite its huge windows facing every direction.

I could write off the noises, and the cold. Those seemed fine. There were things I couldn't write off though. Sometimes I'd hear my name. Loudly. As if someone was calling me. If my mother was home, I'd yell "Yeah Mom?" and she'd reply with "What?" The converse also happened. "Jay?" "I didn't say anything."

There would be pressure on my bed at night. I had a cat though, so most of the time I figured it was her. She didn't normally sleep with me, but enjoyed running across my bed. I never though anything of it, until one night when my cat slept with me on the bed. Curled up next to my chest and purring, I was about to doze off, when I felt a pressure on the end of my bed. My cat stood up stared, and then sprinted out of the room. In an interesting connection, the pressure thing used to happen where I lived before. It started shortly after my father's cat John died. He was around 20 years old, and sort of watched over me as a baby. If I fell down while learning to walk, John would drag someone to find me. Sometimes John would push me over himself. He was bigger than I was then.

Another night, I had finished homework, and I lay down in bed to sleep, when I heard a rhythmic creaking noise. I looked up, grabbed my glasses, and my rocking chair was rocking, fairly hard. Not violently, it rocked smooth and steady, though I couldn't arrest its progress with my hands. Eventually I spoke loudly, "I need to sleep. You're not welcome here at night." I was starting to think it was a ghost by this point in the saga, and I was very careful not to tell it to leave, or that it was scary or unwelcome, as I was afraid it would turn angry.

I finally decided it was a ghost on a spring morning, when I was 17 or so. I had my girlfriend over, and we were doing what teenagers do, playing Scrabble. At any rate, we had just finished, and I was pulling my pants on, when she demanded we leave right away. She didn't have a car, so I had to drive her home. I figured she was late for something, so I dragged a shirt on as I followed her downstairs, and got in my car. The whole time she was telling me to hurry.

We drove for about 5 minutes in silence towards her house, when she asked if I had "seen it."

"Seen what?"

She told me she saw a black male, around 6', walk past my door, look into the room, and then walk through a wall.

That's when I told my experiences to my mother, and she revealed that she too heard footsteps around her bed, and had said numerous times to the presence that she "Didn't believe in it".

yippeekiyaymf posted:

Well, here is my little contribution.....

Over a year ago, my roommate and I had just moved into a new apartment. She had another month of college left before graduation; I already graduated and moved in early. For the month or so I was there, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

**As a side-note, this apartment was a townhouse that was built in the 1940s

Anyways, roommate moves in and everything is fine. Then the weirdness starts. Naturally, it only affects my room. It started out as little things: I would walk up the stairs and into my room and see shadows, I would always feel as though someone else was in the room with me, I would wake up in the middle of the night and just have the weirdest sensations of not being alone. Then it progressed to I would wake up and hear whispering in my ear. I would see things out of the corner of my eye as I walked in. They were more than just shadows.

This poo poo started to freak me out a bit. Then it got worse. I would wake up during the night and actually feel something in the bed with me. It would feel like someone is climbing into the bed with me. I would be kinda delirious from waking up, and assume it was my boyfriend. Yeah, it wasn't. My bed was against the wall and I slept on the outer side. So, this feeling was one of someone getting on the bed, climbing over me, and then getting under the covers next to me. The bed would actually be reacting as if someone was really there (the mattress would dip down, the sheets were moving, etc.) After that happened more than once (At first I thought I was just dreaming, but came to realize that was not true), I began talking to my roommate about it. She didn't believe me.

The next incident is what topped the taco....I was in bed asleep, and, again, the sensations of someone getting into bed with me were going on. This time, it actually felt like an arm was around me and someone was, quite literally, spooning me in the bed. Got the hell out of dodge like nobody's business and slept in my roommate's room. Next day, I convinced her to sleep in my room and see if anything happens. She drags her mattress in there and does. Sometime in the night, she waks up, freaks out, and drags her mattress back into her room. Apparently, she saw some sort of orb light things coming out of the closet. The closet always had weird poo poo going on with it. The cats hated going in there, avoided it, the door would never close, etc.

We took some pictures of the closet with my digital camera and, sure enough, there were orbs on some of them. For the longest time, I was scared to sleep in that room. Then I moved and its fine.

# ? Oct 4, 2020 00:25

Haji: Nov 15, 2005; Haj Paj

More please. These are fun

# ? Oct 5, 2020 00:56

Deified Data: Nov 3, 2015; Fun Shoe

I really like this thread. Thanks for your work on finding these OP

# ? Oct 6, 2020 02:58

RFC2324: Jun 7, 2012; http 418

voted 5

# ? Oct 6, 2020 03:09

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

More stories! Also should I post a link to the Ted the Caver story? It almost always got a link to when a ghost story thread popped up.

Undaine posted:

I've had enough annoying experiences with ghosts in my house and other places to give me enough psychological damage so that when I sleep at home, I sleep with the covers completely over my head with only a little hole for my nose/mouth to breath fresh air from (I'm 20) and have been doing this since I first saw it when I was about 10 or 12 or something. I think one in particular likes to follow me around. It can be best expressed as HORRIFYINGLY ANNOYING.

Anyway I posted it on the last 1 or 2 pages of the last big ghost thread, but it's probably lost, so I'll rewrite it and add a few more that have happened. Splitting each individual story up into parts, but I think its all the same ghost. I haven't bothered to ask it.

--
Part 1
--

My first encounter ever with something .. odd .. was when I was camping. I was a total UFO freak at the time, I'm sure many of you went through that phase. Where nothing was cooler than Aliens and OMG LIGHTS IN THE SKY! My Dad and I were camping at this place called the Curn (Kurn?) River in Cali, it's a good drive east of Bakersfield I think. Anyway there's some good places to camp there because its to far away for all the idiot collage students to come get drunk, and the only people there are fishermen pretty much. So I'd spend my days fishing, and usually we'd meet some cool camper who we'd make friends with for the trip.

On this trip, it was a guy named Jeff. Jeff came from LA, owned an SUV before they were all the rage, and was a hellova nice guy. I remember he liked Bevis and Butthead and since he was over 40 that made him like the coolest guy alive in my book at the time. So I always had a lot to talk to about with Jeff, since he liked UFO's too and would tell me stories about how Indians used to make cave paintings about them and stuff.

Anyway one night we were sitting up late roasting marshmallows or something around a camp fire. My dad had gone to bed early, as he always does, so we were talking about paranormal stuff again. Not ghosts, but UFO's. So the mood late at night around a fire out in the woods was already kinda creepy. Then it just showed up.

I was the first to spot it I think, it came from around behind my tent. A little, white orb, a tad bit smaller than a volley ball, but kinda fuzzyish and almost with a sort of a diffuse glow to it. I thought it was a squirrel at first, then realized due to the fact that it was floating about 6 inches off the ground that it probably wasn't.

"Jeff" I said.
"Yea Undaine?"
"What the hell is that?"

Jeff looked up to see the same thing coming towards us. The grass around us was long, and it was brushing the tops of it, but we could see that it DEFINATLY did not touch the ground. It was heading towards our fire, and consequently, us.

"Uh ... I ... uh ... we should move"

We did. The orb thing passed only a few feet from us in the full glow of the fire. It had no real defined edges, which is why I call it kinda fuzzy and glowing. But it moved very fluently, and made kinda an arc around the fire, and proceeded to take a left up a hill and towards a bush. While it was doing this, we must have been saying "What is that?" "I don't know" a good 300 times.

We stood there after it went up the hill and into a large (but mostly see through) bush for a few seconds, then, like morons, decided that we had to go find it. We ran around the bush, and onto a road behind it, looking all over..

I don't remember the rest of the night.

This is strange, because I remember everything else perfectly as if it just happened. I woke up in the tent next to my dad at sun up. It freaks the gently caress out of me to this day. Jeff went home the next morning, and we never heard from him again, but he did confirm the story with me before he left in front of my Dad, so at least he knows I'm not bat poo poo insane.

Other stuff happens at home (and unfortunately still is), so when I tell my family I've seen something wrong in the house now, they don't laugh at me.

Lucky me.

--
Part 2
--

My house is old, it's been around since like 1880. We've had a rich family history in this house. We're not buried on an Indian graveyard, no murders have taken place, no one's buried in the walls, nothing that would raise any kind of normal angst you need normally for a ghost to hang around. But, unfortunately, this one doesn't seem to care.

First off I should say it's not so much exclusively my house as it is my "area" that has this problem. My uncle next door used to see it too, and when I was very young (and lived in my uncle's house now) I remember standing in my crib before I could even talk, watching the pretty lights in the room, in the middle of the night while my parents slept.

Anyway, my Uncle was the first one to see it. He woke up at 3 am due to my aunt screaming (she does this, it's a sleep problem) and comforted her like he usually does. Only tonight, she was screaming "OH GOD, STEVE, THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE ROOM!"

"No honey, there's no one here."
"YES! YES THERE IS! HE'S RIGHT THERE! *more screaming*"
"No sweety, I can see everything, everythings fine."

At this point she was satisfied, and went back to sleep. My uncle was about to as well, when he noticed something in his groggy state. It was 3 am, and he could see the room very clearly. An orange glow was lighting the entire thing. Not emanating from a source, but actually exuding from the walls.

He thought about this for a second, closed his eyes, reopened them.

Darkness.

His first and final thought that night was "Oh, thats better" before he went back to sleep.

...

The ghost still liked my Uncle though, and the exact same incident repeated itself a few weeks later, with my aunt screaming, and the room lit up at 3 am once again. This time, instead of going back to sleep, my Uncle (who is a much, much braver man than I) got up and yelled at it and told it to go the hell away and not come back. And with that, poof. Walls went out. Uncle went back to bed, and it hasn't bothered him since.

Because it found someone more responsive to bother. It moved in with MY family. Thank you, Uncle Steve, for the lovely ghost. It's just what my panic attack / weak heart family has always wanted.

--
Part 3
--

Shortly after my Uncle banished it using his balls of pure steel, my mom woke up for absolutely no reason at, you guessed it, 3 AM. She couldn't figure out why she woke up at first, and looked around the room to see if one of the cats was there. The cats (who ALWAYS sleep with my mom) had run away. She thought that was odd, when she noted that she could see the whole room at 3 AM, because it was tinted with an orange glow. She looked around the room for the source, and in the corner of one of the walls, floating high above the ground, was Mister Orb again. She described it like an orb but it had sort of an electricity to it like if you see heat coming off hot pavement.

My mom, being less brave, hid under the covers trying to wake my dad until she fell asleep hours later in a cold sweat.

After that, it liked to do other things.

Stuff will be moved in my house. We don't talk about it, we just put it back in the places it should be and ignore it or blame the cats for moving the candlestick/chair/refrigerator/whatever. In particular, it likes to knock over plants. When we hear footsteps at night in the attic, we blame the racoons. Racoons apparently weigh about 180 and wear mens shoes. The attic, incidentally, is about 4 feet tall and no person in the world could walk like that up there. When the cats stare at things that aren't there, we usually just leave the room. When stuff scrapes against the windows in the guest room when guests are there, or on the glass 10 feet off the ground in the TV room, we tell them that is just from the tree. Note: There is no tree. It turns TV's on. It turns radios on. It closes doors, it knocks poo poo over in anger when I tell jokes to my parents that I read here.

Heh that reminds me, about 3 weeks ago I told a string of dead baby jokes to my parents at dinner, and a plate flew off a shelf and crashed to the tabel. I apologized to the ghost, my parents laughed, and we continued eating.

As of recently, it's taken up the habit of screaming at us in the middle of the night, waking us up and sending us looking for the noise for a few seconds before we all pretend we needed to "just go to the bathroom" so its easier to ignore it and get back to sleep. This has only happened twice, and within the last month.

It has followed me to hotel rooms in Vegas, when it scared the poo poo out of a friend of mine, and started all the hangers in a closet shaking on their own when the only two people in the room were me and him. He claimed he saw an image of a person that night, which kinda makes me think that it was a different ghost, because all this one ever shows up as is as an orb, or just an orange glow, or both.

This defiantly isn't as scary as the guy who worked in the bar, but it's all true, and I have to live with it. So it's plenty scary enough for me.

apathetic poster posted:

First hand ghost story, kind of dull.

My aunt's house is this old farmhouse in northwest Ohio. I don't know how she got it, but she's not the original owner: this house is about nintey years old. She raised three kids there, and one of them swears the house is haunted.

The story goes, once while sitting in a chair on the upper floor where the ghost lives, it came to him. He was sitting in the chair crookedly because he had hurt his back, and all of a sudden this oddly shaped woman figure rounds the corner and walks straight at him. He's scared shitless, when it reaches out and touches his knee. His back pain disappears, and the woman turns and leaves.

I called shenanigans, but the rest of the family believed him.

Fast forward to a few years after this. All the kids were older than me, and they moved out of the house. I was thirteen or so, and sitting in this creepy house in the middle of nowhere as a kind of waiting station in between grandparent's homes. I had been there a day and had to be there two more, so my aunt couldn't take off work to sit in the house. I was alone.

I watched alot of TV. The only tv in the house is in the living room, along with the doorway that leads to the stairs. This door was a open on a still summer day, absolutely no wind was blowing. From my position on the couch I could watch TV, see the stairs through the wide open doorway, and try to catch any breezes through the windows of this house with no AC.

The loving door shuts.

I flipped the gently caress out. My aunt came home from work five hours to find me sitting under a tree reading magazines. I had to poo poo really bad, but I WAS NOT going back inside. I spent the next two days on the couch under a blanket with the stairway door wedged shut.

Kestler posted:

This is a story my Grandmother told me and some relatives a couple years ago. She's very serious and none of us have ever heard her bullshit.

This all took place around 1969. My Dad (16 or so at the time) had a close group of buddies that used to hang out at my Grandmother's house all the time. For the most part, my Grandmother liked them and they liked her.

One night, around 11:00, my Dad's friend Tom came to visit. My Grandmother told him that my Dad had left earlier that night with some friends.
"It's OK", Tom said, "I just wanted to say bye".
Then he left.

Later on, around 2:00 or so in the morning, my Dad came home. He said that something awful had happened. She said she knew, that something happened to Tom.

Basicly, he was killed in a car accident around the same time that my Grandmother was talking to him.

f^2 posted:

My house was built in 1969. On farm land formerly owned by Dutch farmers (according to my Jr. High Math teacher who has been living here since the late forties, when it's a farming community.)

The house had 3 owners. I am the third. The first owners was a young couple who only lived here for a year or so until they moved out. Then it was a couple who lived here from 1970 to 1997, raising children and looking over an old lady. The house was purchased by me in mid 1997. According to my neighbor who lived here since 1969, no deaths, no fires, nothing like that happened in my house or anything similar.

It was all fine the first year, but in mid 1998, stuff started to happen.

I was reading on the couch and suddenly felt that I was being watched. This persisted for a day. A feeling that I was constantly being watched. Then it was gone. All was normal.

Then in early 1999, my TV started to turn on automatically. Out of the blue. In the morning, the afternoon, without any patterns. It turns on automatically in the morning like an alarm clock for a week or so, then it stopped. Completely freaked me out.

Then one night in around April, I woke up 3 in the morning. I looked up at the ceiling. A green beam of light was shining on it. I have no idea where it came from. It started rotating like a clock's hand. It went on for several minutes. I know what I saw and it wasn't an illusion. It was real. It went on for several minutes, then disappeared.

Then nothing happened for over a year.

Late 2000, my floorboards started creaking. Sometimes pretty loudly. It sounded like someone was walking. When I walk up the stairs it creaks pretty loudly and I recognizes the sound. It died down pretty soon, after only a day or two. But then I started seeing figures in the reflection of my PC monitor. They flash. Mostly during the night. When I'm playing games or reading websites. They always make me turn my head, but nothing.

Since then I have periodically seen shapes at night. I would suddenly wake up and see something, but it wasn't overly significant.

Then about a month ago I had a terrible dream. I remember a bomb-ed out landscape that vaguely resembles a gated neighborhood in which one of my friends lived. All the houses were in ruins and branches everywhere. Then I started seeing figures. Apparitions. I tried to scream but no sound came out. I woke in a cold sweat to realize I overslept. My alarm clock has been turned off.

My alarm is a battery powered Timex that has switch at the back. It's in the off position. I distinctively remember that it was in the on position the night before.

It has been quiet since, but I fear more may start soon.

I do not fear this spirit however, as I feel it to be benign, but the presence of it still makes me feel uneasy.

Coredump fucked around with this message at 15:11 on Oct 6, 2020

# ? Oct 6, 2020 15:07

Drewsky: Dec 29, 2010

Coredump posted:

More stories! Also should I post a link to the Ted the Caver story? It almost always got a link to when a ghost story thread popped up.

Yes, please.

# ? Oct 6, 2020 19:36

Sleekly: Aug 21, 2008

I remember stories about I think about a dude who was close to or maybe in a gang. One was called The Bad Jar? I remember them as being very effective but can't for the life of me remember the username. Like a GTA story but with horror elements.

A username I do remember is Canis Latranis or close to that. Those stories were pretty memorable too.

# ? Oct 7, 2020 22:53

InediblePenguin: Sep 27, 2004; I'm strong. And a giant penguin. Please don't eat me. No, really. Don't try.

Sleekly posted:

I remember stories about I think about a dude who was close to or maybe in a gang. One was called The Bad Jar? I remember them as being very effective but can't for the life of me remember the username. Like a GTA story but with horror elements.

A username I do remember is Canis Latranis or close to that. Those stories were pretty memorable too.

Bad Jar was Canis Latrans http://nothotbutspicy.com/para/cl/

# ? Oct 7, 2020 23:56

Deified Data: Nov 3, 2015; Fun Shoe

Void of Infinite Nothing posted:

When I was about 15, 8 years ago, I was marginally into aliens. Not the movie mind you, the real thing, if there is such. I had a friend who was kind of dumb, just starting to becoming a stoner, but I hung out with him all the time. In the backyard at his house, he had this clubhouse, although it was more of a shed. We spent many hours in there, involved in many questionable acts. At the time this occured, there was a sofa in there, flipped onto it's front to make a sort of bunk bed. One person slept on the top ( the back of the sofa ), and another slept on a small mattress on the floor, looking up at the back rest of the sofa. There was also a light, a radio, and that is pretty much all.

One night, I was sleeping over, and we decided to stay in the clubhouse. About 1 a.m., we are both laying next to each other on the top bunk, talking about who knows what, and listening to music. He began to tell me a questionable story from when he was younger.
When he was in third and fourth grade, he swears aliens would pick him up occasionally, and fly him around the solar system and show him things. He talked about walking around the space craft, and conversing with the aliens and such. He seems to be almost in a trance as he tells his tale. Near the end of the story, almost as a side note, he added that they told him never to tell anyone. Shortly after he mentioned this, the nightmare began.

Out of nowhere, my friend begins seizuring, just laying there on his back, his body quivering, and his face contorting in ways I've never seen before. He nearly stops breathing, and is completely nonresponsive for around 10 minutes, except for the shaking and horrificly contorted face. All of a sudden he snaps out of his seizure, and is just out of it. He doesn't remember anything, except the feeling that a needle was going into his throat.

At this point, we are both completely terrified. We get off the top bunk and huddle down on the lower bunk, trying to convince ourselves we are scared for nothing. The radio in the corner helps to calm our fears, until it starts adding to them. I had heard that when alien craft were near, it would interfere with electronics, which seemed to be happening. The music on the radio kept getting louder and softer, in rolling waves, kind of like a sine wave if you pictured it, in 10-15 second cycles. This was with a cd playing. Not needing to be even more freaked out, we turn the radio off after 15 minutes of fiddling with it to no avail.
So, there we lay, silent, with a bare light hung above us, trying to overcome our fear that aliens are decending upon us. About 2 hours pass, and we are mostly recovered now, but still kind of jumpy. My friend decided he needs to piss, but is too afraid to go up to the house, so he intends to just crack open the door and do his business through the opening. As he stands in front of the door, releaving his aching bladder, I peer through the crack over his head, taking in the thin sliver of night sky I can see. For some reason, this view calms me, and I decide to go outside in a few minutes, walk around in the night air, and see that everything is as it should be, that way all my fear will be gone. No sooner does this thought parse through my mind then the power just instantly cuts out. Now, we got power to the clubhouse through an extension cord run from the back of the house into the clubhouse. The plug block inside came loose quite often, so we thought that might be it. The only other explanation would be someone pulling the cord up at the house, but my friend had a perfect view of the back of the house while he was pissing out the door, and he saw nobody. So, we both dive back into the lower bunk, nearly making GBS threads our pants at this point, in the pitch black club house. We decide to check the plug block inside, to make sure it hasn't come loose. We lean forward together, paw for the end of the cord, everything is plugged in securely! We both slump, nearly crying. I had never been more scared in my entire life, nor have I been as scared since. The night is deadly silent, only the occasional rustling from outside, seemingly too close to the clubhouse, accompanied by shadows roving past the small cracks around the window shutters.

10 minutes later, my friend is just completely out. I shake him, yell at him, hold his nose, no response. He is asleep so deeply he might as well be dead. I lay there, shaking, terrified, for the next hour at least.
Next thing I know, it is morning, radio is playing, light is on, everything is plugged in. No explanation for the previous night's experience whatsoever, except for the dew on the grass around the clubhouse seems to be disturbed, almost like foot prints in the dew, but not defined enough to actually make a determination as to whether something had been walking there.

To this day, I have no idea what happened that night. I've never been so scared. I have tears in my eyes right now just from remembering it.

Imagine getting scared because your neighbors are banging

aphid posted:

When I was about, I think five or so I was laying in bed getting sort of sleepy. At the time my bed was right in the corner of the room. So if I faced one way, I was looking straight at the wall. If I faced the other way I was looking out towards my room. I was tossing and turning and I ended up in a position where I was facing the wall. I was just laying there with my eyes open staring at the wall. As I was about to close my eyes again, I saw a hand come up from the right side of my field of vision and make a half circle towards my left field of my vision. It looked like it was running against the wall. Now my bed was against the wall on that side so it could not have been anyone laying a the side of my bed playing tricks on me or whatever. I got scared but I had to tell myself this is not true.

The next incident happened when I was 13 or 14. At this age you really don't let your imagination get the best of you. This time my bed was right in the middle of the room. It was Sunday and I had to get to sleep because I had school the next day. So I am laying there looking towards the ceiling with my eyes closed. About five minutes after I closed my eyes I can feel a slight shaking on my bed. I opened my eyes and was kind like what the hell is this? I think it stopped when I did that so I closed my eyes again. A few minutes later the shaking started again but this time it was strong. I got up and looked at the bed and it was not shaking. I was starting to get worried and was almost freaking out but figured well maybe I was just dreaming. Got back into bed and laid down again. A few minutes later again the bed starts shaking. This time, it was shaking violently. I thought gently caress this. I bolted up out of my bed and ran down the stairs and told my parents what was going on. They just told me I was dreaming and to get back to bed. I went about 30 min later and it did not start again.

This last story is where I got the most scared. Again it was night time and I was laying in bed. I stated to hear banging like the sound of cupboards. We lived in a side by side so I figured it's the next door neighbors. It was 12:00am and I was just thinking get to bed you idiots. The time ticked by and this banging continued. I also started to hear some creaking like someone coming up the stairs. This is the point where I was starting to get very scared. The terror I was feeling was just unreal. I felt like I was actually going to start crying I was so scared. So I was laying there listening to this creaking and banging for at least 10 more minutes. Then my heart must have stopped for about ten seconds as my dog started howling. Let me tell you, my dog never howls. To this day, that day is the only day he has ever howled in his life and he is about 18 years old now. I got out of bed because I could not take it anymore. Went to the landing on the stairs and told my dog to shut up. He just stared at me. I made my way down the stairs and could still hear the banging. It was coming from the kitchen for sure. I got to the last stair and was about to turn the corner to go past the living room to the kitchen. That is when it stopped. Everything went silent. I still went to the kitchen to see if anything was going on. All the cupboards were closed and everything was how it was left earlier.

There were a few other incidents that did not involve me. I came home from lunch one day and my sister who is about eight years older than me was so glad to see me. She took me to the bathroom and she said that she was doing her hair and the hairspray bottle just started turning in circles on the bottom edges of it. She explained it was doing that for a while. My other sister used to be wild and would come home late at night sometimes. She's said that sometimes when she would come home, my dog would be sitting there just staring at the wall. When she would call him, he would not come. She had to physically go to him and kind of "wake" him up.

Vorhese posted:

Story 1. The People
This is a quick one. In October one year at 2 AM, I awoke to sounds. I looked outside my window and saw a group of white clothed and hooded (not kkk) people with torches standing at the end of our property (3 acres) on the gravel road. They were just standing there. I awoke my parents, they saw them, and they ordered us to lock all the doors and get upstairs and lock the door. We watched them for an hour, then they just turned around and walked into the woods. hosed UP? YES!

Story 2. The Faces
Upstairs in our house all the walls and ceilings are covered in swirl spackle designs. Most have been covered up with paneling and tile over the years. In the earlier days, I would wake up in cold sweats after having dreams of demons attacking me. I would open my eyes and look around the room in the moonlight. My eyes would focus on the swirling patterns. Now, I had a great imagination, but I know what's real. I'm always a skeptic. I would often see the patterns changing forming faces and watching me, their mouths gaping open and closed like screams. I would scream for my mom but nothing came out. My mom would finally hear me and comfort me. Also, my brother would sleepwalk a lot and sit and the top of the stairs. I would sometimes catch him and ask, "Why are you out here?" His response: "The faces" He attests he remembers nothing of these occasions.

Story 3. The Gateway
This one gets more hosed up everytime I visit home, and I will explain why. For years as a kid and especially my high school years I would see a greenish vaporlike form come between my room and my parents room. It would come thru the wall, hover, then vanish. This happened at least twice a month. As years went by and especially now when I go home, I look at the wall. The spackling is beginning to settle with age and an actual DOORWAY is coming thru the wall. It looks like it was covered up years ago. Defnitely over 25 years ago, since we moved there.

Story 4. Fred
My dad is a light sleeper. If you wake him up, he stays awake. Well, my dad has many stories (my mom backs up) of him waking up and someone walking up and down the stairs. Loudly. It wakes my dad up. Also, sometimes during the morning, my mom sees a black shape of a man standing in front of her and then he disappears. My mom calls him Frank. My mom spoke to the former owners about this (we are good friends) and they say, "Oh Fred! Yeh, we've seen him many times"

Story 5. The Tombstone
There is a small, 1800's to early 1900's graveyard down the road. It's in a woods by a marsh. I would sometimes wander around it. Well, when I had my paper route for three years, I would ride by every day. There is a particular stone in the back corner that sort of resembles the Empire State Building. It is broken off at the base and lays 2 feet away. Every day, for three years, I would pick up that stone and set it on it's base. Every day for 3 years I would repeat. It always was laying 2 feet away in the same position.

Story 6. The Scariest poo poo I've Ever Experienced.
Last year I visited home with my girlfriend. She stayed the night, we had a little fun, and she left the next day. The following night, as I'm sleeping, I wake up. There is an OLD child's rocking chair in my room with stuffed animals on it. The thing starts ROCKING. I'm freaking out and freeze with fear. I really wish that was it. Next, the stuffed animals start falling out of the chair one at a time. I'm freaking out and stiff as a board paralyzed with fear. So I'm laying there freaking out and I pull the covers up higher and turn on my side. The chair stops. I start calling for my mom. I couldn't produce words. Remember, I'm 24 years old! So I give up and lay on my side. Suddenly cold breezes start blowing on my ears. I'm REALLY freaking. SO I turn on my side and tense completely up. What happened next I will NEVER forget. I'm laying there and SUDDENLY a voice whispers in my loving EAR. It was unintellible, but imagine someone talking by breathing in and speaking backwards. I SCREAM AND BOLT OUT OF MY ROOM and jump into my parents' bed! I'm freaking out! My dad is pissed. My mom is trying to calm me down. She assures me it's ok. Finally she says "Oh that was probably Frank, we haven't seen him for about 6 months and we don't know why." That did NOT help. So I ended up going back into my room and turned on my light and managed to fall asleep about an hour later.

The next day I was talking to my girlfriend and she reminded me she was on her period. She also informed me that hormonal women are sometimes attributed to waking up sleeping spirits. Um.... She also informed me she's never sleeping over there again. She broke up with me last January, so that's not a problem.

There have been many other small things that have happened. Corner of the eye apparations, things moving from where they were, etc. We also have an old dirt cellar with steps leading down. Let me tell you, I'm 25 now and I still cant go down there without thinking some loving zombie is going to reach thru the steps and grab my legs. We have holes in the side of our basement walls that lead into small rooms. We've explored in there as a kid and found all sorts of animal bones. Goddamn, my house was hosed up.

# ? Oct 12, 2020 22:05

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

Fuse posted:

Well, everyone's telling homestyle ghost stories, so I'l let loose a few about my house, though I don't really like talking about it much. It makes people think I'm creepy. I've already mentioned the shadow in my roo earlier on this thread, so I'll skip that one.

This house had only one owner before my family bought it, an old wealthy farmer/rancher who'd apparently built the house just to stay in during the summer and watch over his farm. It was on top of a large, wide, lightly-sloped hill. This location was chosen because the guy was smart and didn't want his place to ever be flooded when it rained. Once, on a whim, I made a pair of divining rods out of coathangers - something I'd read in a book - and discovered that the house is built at the nexus of around ten or so ley lines.

For the first fourteen years of my life I had some odd affectations. The chief of which was that I could not be in a room with a television and that TV not be turned on. I HAD to have it on, or I'd be very edgy. When my dad finally bought me a TV for my room, I'd still turn it on at night and turn the volume down. Also, I absolutely could not get to sleep if there was a door open to my bedroom. Every door had to be closed, and every window curtain drawn. Often I'd wake up in the morning reversed in my bed (my head at the foot of the bed and feet at headboard), or sideways, or sometimes I'd even wake up on the floor, across the room occasionally. My mother would come in to wake me up and freak because I'm huddled up in a corner wrapped in a blanket, and I'd have no idea how I got there. I had no history of sleepwalking.

When I was a kid living in that house, between seven and fifteen, I'd occasionally be sitting there in my room reading, or thinking, and I'd unknowingly...space out...for a few minutes, and hear a roomful ov voices. When I'd become aware of them and try to focus, they'd go away and I'd be left with silence.

When we first moved there me and my little sister shared the same room, sleeping in bunk beds. Both of us were, for some unexplained reason, absolutely terrified of the top bunk. So one night we're fighting over who has to take the top bunk, just like every night, and my mother finally gets sick of it and says I have to because I'm the older one. So I'm lying there, shivering with fear (no idea why), when this tiny little voice from right beside the window next to my ear says "Now don't be scared...". I hit the floor running and burst through the door to the living room where my mother was sitting reading the Bible. She told me I'd dreamed it. I KNEW that I hadn't. One, when my sister Tina had to take the top bunk, she told me she heard the same voice singing "Teeny...weeny...teeny...weeny..." to her. "Teeny Weeny" was a nickname I called her, but it wasn't me that said it that night.

When I was teenager, a poltergeist used to move things around my room. The most notable was an old hot wheels car I'd kept as a sentiment from childhood that disappeared from the top of my computer one day. I searched for it for weeks, and eventually gave up, until I finally happened upon it sitting on top of my dartboard on the wall (the dartboard was mounted in a wooden case). I put it back on my computer, and when I woke up the next morning it was gone again. On a hunch I looked on top of the dartboard and there it was again, so again I moved it back to the computer. This little game repeated every day for a week, until I finally said "OK! You win!" and left it there. I awoke the next morning to find it poised on top of my computer in its original position, and busted up laughing. After that, it would occasionally disappear again and pop up in different places in the house. Paranormal hide-and-seek.

One night my mother yells at me to come into the living room, and when I get there she's white as a sheet and looking out the window, beckoning for me to look. Across the Southern field - which is small, maybe 1/4 mile - hovering just above the trees, is a large glowing orb, probably twenty feet across or more. It bounced slowly above the treetops, occasionally dipping down into the trees, before finally disappearing below the treeline. We asked around, but no one else who lived nearby had seen it, and we never found out what it was.

Oddly enough, we always had a pet dog or cat around the whole time we lived there, but none of them ever did anything weird.

We moved into the place in 1979, and my father sold it to my uncle to move into town in March of 1999. Three months later, in June, the house got hit by a lightning bolt and burned to the ground. Luckily no one was in the house at the time. All the years we'd lived there we had never had any problems with lightning hitting anywhere near the house, and to top things off there was this big freakin' tree standing 20 feet from the house in the front yard that the lightning bypassed to hit the house. Two weeks later, I finally paid a visit to the ruins of the place and was standing in the charred remains of my old bedroom, and my aunt walks in and starts telling me how she was standing in that very room one week prior to the strike, during another storm, and all of a sudden this bolt of lightning came through the window, passed through the room right in front of her, and hit the opposite wall. She was flustered by the event, and tried to catch her breath, when ten seconds later it happens AGAIN, this time startling her so much that she fell down, scrambled back to her feet, and ran out the front door of the house and couldn't muster up the courage to come in again until the storm was over three hours later. The whole time she told me this story she kept looking at me funny, as if she was waiting for me to "slip up" and admit to something. I come from a strong Baptist family, I'm the black sheep of said family, and it's oh, such a big scandal that I study things like Taoism, Bhuddism, and the occult. I believe she honestly thinks I had something to so with the house burning, like I called demons down on it or something.

Hell, maybe she's right. Maybe those restless spirits I saw and heard were mad that I left.

Coredump fucked around with this message at 03:11 on Oct 27, 2020

# ? Oct 12, 2020 22:12

Deified Data: Nov 3, 2015; Fun Shoe

Hell yeah

# ? Oct 12, 2020 22:39

Deified Data: Nov 3, 2015; Fun Shoe

I think I've got like...2-3 unexplainable things that happened to me in my life? Off the bat I don't believe in ghosts or the supernatural and assume all these things have a rational explanation...I just don't know what that explanation would be lol

1. When I was a kid I preferred the ambiance of my mom's bedroom over mine for reading books in the middle of the day...if I wasn't watching TV downstairs I'd be up in her room reading library books or something. In any case the door to that room would occasionally rattle on its hinges and kinda yank back and forth like someone's trying to get in without turning the knob. Every time this happened I'd pretend not to notice and bury my face in whatever book I was reading, figuring that whatever it was it couldn't hurt me if I didn't acknowledge it. I rate this one 1 breezy hallway/10 but maybe not? I don't know, it scared the piss out of me as a kid and I have no idea why I insisted on hanging out in a room that creeped me out so much.

Everything else happened when I was an adult, with a pretty firm disbelief in the supernatural and not really all that primed to get worked up about things.

2. GF and I bought a house a couple years ago and got a cat shortly after. The house is about 100 years old and does the typical creaking and settling you'd expect it to. I love it and it generally has a very "not haunted" vibe - like "walk around in the basement at night without a light on" levels of chill. In any case, one night I hear a weird scratching on the ceiling of our living room - we've gotten bats in our walls before but this sounded different, like not muffled at all and more like a fingernail scratching on the ceiling itself from inside the living room. My cat is in the room with me and immediately goes on high alert, looking up into the corner where the sound originated. If it were an animal I'd expect him to keep looking there, but his vision starts tracking whatever it is across the room - over the ceiling and the walls, way faster than an animal would be capable of navigating the interior. Finally my cat settles on looking at my GFs framed Big Trouble in Little China poster and it immediately falls off the tack it was on and onto the floor. This scared the living piss out of my because I watched it all happen in real time and knew something was up before it fell. Could be a varmint knocked it down from inside the wall and my cat was following that? As I said though that explanation feels inadequate to me. Put me on edge all night but hasn't repeated itself.

3. This one is probably the least spooky yet the most inexplicable. I work in a public library and when we close we make sure we have at least 3 people for support and so no one ever has to leave the building alone at night. We're closing up and moving as a group and shutting down lights and whatnot. I turn off the light in the basement hallway that leads to the children's section and we proceed in a circuit around the building doing exactly this. The building leads back on itself so we come back round to the exit and get ready to go when I can see the basent hallway lights are back on. There's no one in the building who could have turned them back on because we were together the whole time, and the lights were on several switches so there's no way I left them all half on and they slipped back into the opposite position. They were off and then they were on - this did not give me the creeps so much as it confused me utterly. There is no reasonable explanation for this one and probably the truest "unexplained" event to ever happen to me. This has never repeated itself.

4. (BONUS) This one is another dumb work story but it's short so I figured I'd include it. I compile monthly stats for work (in this case circulation stats by collection type - think fiction, non-fiction, music, DVDs, etc). I forget which collection I'm tabulating here (probably youth fiction since the number feels right for that collection) but for some reason while I'm adding these numbers I can't shake the feeling they're going to add up to 1488, the Nazi dogwhistle number. I don't know why I felt this way, maybe too much reading C-Spam at work, but lo and behold that's exactly what it adds up to and I'm dumbfounded. I had to triplecheck my work to make sure I hadn't hosed up somehow, but every time it added up to 1488, the number that I somehow knew it'd be when I started. Not based on any savant-like ability to read the numbers but strictly because I was thinking about weirdo reactionaries at the time. Have I developed psychic powers or is this a crazy coincidence? Probably the latter but whatever. SA is the only place I can tell a story like that and now sound insane.

...

Anyway I'm sorry for hijacking the thread of good spooky stories with my very bad ones, I just like the thread and hope it keeps going.

# ? Oct 12, 2020 23:21

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

Deified Data posted:

Anyway I'm sorry for hijacking the thread of good spooky stories with my very bad ones, I just like the thread and hope it keeps going.

Oh no personal contributions are welcomed.

# ? Oct 13, 2020 01:25

Hrist: Feb 21, 2011; Lipstick Apathy

I think I might have told this story in an a/t thread years ago. But I might have also just decided not too. But here it is.

Back in 2005 me and my best friend went on vacation a few states away, and stayed at a beach front condo. Probably up on the 10th-ish out of like, 20-ish floors. Huge place. The size of the building is important to mention for later. But at this point, we were seniors in high school, and we were visiting in the fall. And being teenagers at the time, we of course were into dumb edgy poo poo like looking up "witchcraft" books. Like scrying rituals, and stuff about doing tape recordings to get answers from spirits and things. I didn't believe most of it worked, but I still read some of the books by this one author that my friend really followed.

So one day while we stayed there, I got sunburned really bad. To the point where my ankles swelled so bad I couldn't stand or walk or anything. I was stick sleeping in a recliner in the living room all night. At one point, I kept waking up. I would be coming out of my sleep, and hearing this girl's voice. She just kept saying stuff like, "You have to wake up. The alarm is going to go off soon." And since I was in school, I kept just telling myself I was dreaming about my alarm going off for school, and just thinking about that in my dreams or something.

So then around 3 am or so, this loud alarm starts going off. Like an old red bell on the wall kind of alarm. I couldn't move, so I just had to sit and wait for my friend to get up and come out of the bed room. My friend was confused, and went out into the halls. The whole time I was thinking stuff like, "If this is a fire, I'm never getting out." When he came back, he said no one was out there. It was definitely a fire alarm, and it was loud as hell. But literally no one else in the building was out of their rooms leaving or anything, according to him when he came back. And after a few minutes, it just stopped. We never figured out what it was, or where the bell sound even came from,. There was nothing visible in the room. But maybe it was in a thin ceiling to hide it or something. It was just crazy that it seemed liek no one in the entire building cared about the alarm. You'd think there'd be a huge panic. But nothing.

After the alarm, I went back to sleep. And at another point in the same night, I woke up again. The recliner I was in was at an angle, and I could see down the hallway leading to a corner that turned and went through another hall to the door into the main hall of the floor outside our room. So as I laid there, I could see something weird. It looked like someone was standing at the end of that hall. And of course, still being stuck there, I just had another thought like, "Welp, if someone got in, that's it. Again" But the person I saw was just standing there. It looked like someone with long hair, so I figured it was a girl. And as I watched, she would just turn and walk around the corner.

I tried to ignore it, and I kept telling myself I just imagined it. But I'd wake up again, and look. And I'd see things like this hand coming out of a doorway in the hall closer to me than the corner end of it. It was coming out of a small bathroom, and would just lazily wave itself forward. like a swatting motion, kind of. The rest of the night I would keep trying to go back to sleep. But I would keep opening my eyes and see either that hand, or the girl. Over and over. Both of them were in a color I can't quite describe. They didn't look like flesh and clothes colors. But still had enough detail to how they looked that I could see what they were. It's so hard to explain, but I still have the image in my head.

The next day I told my friend all about it. And he asked why I didn't text him. But I didn't even think of that at the moment. So that night, he decided to try something he learned from one of those books he was reading. It was something called "loop feedback". Or it at least had that in the name of it, if that isn't the whole thing. I think it would be very difficult to get set up now, with digital cable being the standard. But the idea is that you needed a t.v. and a mirror. You set the t.v. to a channel that just has constant static on it. And you set the mirror across the room from the t.v. so that it displays the static too. Then you just sit and watch the t.v. And when you feel like it, you take a picture of the screen with a digital camera (Phones barely had cameras back then, and they were so bad you might as well not have used). I forget if it's the t.v. or the mirror. But I'm almost positive it was the t.v. screen. And the idea is that you will be able to see things in the pictures that you couldn't see while watching it with your eyes. Somehow the very few limited colors in the static patterns will be placed in such a way for that frame that you capture that you will be able to see something in part of it. If not the entire screen size.

He took at least 5 or more pictures. And I swear I am not exaggerating. The very first picture had a side profile of a man's face on the right hand side of the screen. There were a few with nothing visible but static. But one of the later pictures, my friend checks it and says, "Is this your girl?" and showed it to me. It had a full image of what I saw the night before. The full hallway. The shape of the layout perfectly represented in the shading of the static. Not only that, but the hand and the girl were in position. It looked just like it did from my POV in the chair. It was crazy. The man picture I could understand people say was just coincidence, or wanting to see something that wasn't there. But this was just too specific to be us imagining things or whatever wishful thinking would be called in this case. He showed the pictures to other people, and they instantly saw the man in that one pic, and thought he just made that or something. No one could verify the hallway image but us though, since no one else would even know what the condo looked like.

So a few days later, we were back home. And he showed his girlfriend the pictures. The next day we had school, he told me that that pictured freaked her out, because it was her uncle. She showed him pictures, and it looked exactly like him. She told him how her uncle visited the beach years ago, and died there. One night some local band was playing a cover of Santana's "How Far is Heaven?" or whatever it's called, and had a heart attack and died while sitting there watching. Now, I know that part sounds made up, and even I personally don't believe her about it, because I can tell you she was a huge liar. So it's easy enough to just show someone a picture of a man with tat same style of facial hair, and haircut, and say, "yeah that's him." But no one can ever convince me the hallway picture was a coincidence. That poo poo still makes me uncomfortable to talk about to this day.

# ? Oct 13, 2020 02:07

Objurium: Aug 8, 2009

This happened a few years back while hiking out of a local canyon at night with a friend. In all honesty there's probably a very normal explanation for it, but it felt phenomenally "bad" at the time we experienced it.

We basically wound up on a day hike and hung out a bit too long at our lunch spot - losing track of time and not giving ourselves enough of a head start to get back to my truck before dark.

No big deal. We're both pretty experienced hikers and I know this area pretty well, and have done it at night once or twice before to boot. It's essentially 3 or 4 miles of winding trail that follows a river back up into a canyon with a really neat old bridge in it that spans said river. Like a dumbass, I didn't bring my headlamp because neither of us anticipated being out this late - but worst case scenario you can just trace the river right back to the parking lot.

We're lucky though in that we have excellent lunar illumination that night, and navigating the trail that twists and turns and disappears because of the area's consistent rockfall is a breeze.

I've had that weird, slightly uneasy feeling in the back of my mind for most of the trek back, but I tell myself it's just dumb lizard brain heightened alert because of navigating the wilderness at night. I don't say anything or let on as the friend I was with was also a potential romantic partner and I've gotta be Very Cool™, obviously.

The last half mile of trail spits you up and away from the river onto a hard tack dirt road that leads back to the parking lot. This area is popular for camping considering its relative accessibility compared to deeper parts of the canyon, but we're there on a random weeknight and there were no campers when we took this route in.

Heading straight down the dirt road, off to our right is the camping area and the river, including some fairly large pine trees that dominate the clearing with their shady boughs. Off to the left is just your average scrub brush - sage, buckthorn, etc.

We're chatting and bullshitting and flirting a little when I realize I can make out a vaguely humanoid shape about 10-15 feet off to the left of the dirt road. Not directly in the road itself, and not in the scrub brush either. We have beautiful brilliant silver light illuminating the fine dust of the dirt road, but the figure appears to consciously be standing in a pool of shadow cast by the trees off to the right side of the road.

I was immediately sketched out by the fact that there's a person choosing to stand in one of the only poorly illuminated sections of road at night, butI don't want to say anything to alarm my friend. However, that sorta electric energy shift between us hits real hard as she sees it too, and a verbal acknowledgement was unnecessary.

We continue and attempt to act casual. We're probably 50 feet away from the figure when I try to call out to it on the chance it's a camper or homeless person.

"Hey there!"

No response.

Alright then. It's now obvious that we're both pretty unnerved and we have to walk directly by this thing to get to the parking lot.

We get almost to passing distance and I'm able to pick out a few things.

The figure is actually standing perpendicular to the road - meaning we're going to pass it at a hard 90° angle off to our left. I don't like this. We're within 15 feet or so and I'm staring directly at it.

"Hello!"

Still nothing - and now I realize I can't actually make out anything about the figure. No clothes, no face, no features. I'm not even sure how I get the sense that it's facing us, considering I can't pinpoint anything distinct.

Nothing.

I am screaming inside my own head as I'm overwhelmed with that "oh gently caress no absolutely not" feeling. I distinctly remember being able to see details of the scrub brush the figure was standing near, which was also in the shadow of the pines, but there's just an almost... Darker darkness cloaking this thing?

At this point I am expecting some cheesey horror movie jump scare or some poo poo but it never comes. The figure doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge us, doest track us as we walk by. It is absolutely still.

We consciously pick up our pace but without breaking into an obvious run - I think somehow we both made the assumption that our inky silhouette friend might be encouraged to give chase if we bolted or something - but neither of us verbalized it.

I continued glancing over my shoulder the entire way back to the car, homegirl had quietly produced a neck knife and I've got my hand on the big gently caress-off camp knife on my belt, but nothing happens.

We make it back to the cars a little frazzled and supremely weirded the gently caress out. It very easily could have been a drifter or something, with our imaginations filling in spooky details where there were none, but I have hiked all over this mountains for just about 3 decades and I have never felt as uncomfortable as I did during that encounter with whatever that was - spectral hobo tweaker or not.

# ? Oct 13, 2020 08:41

Deified Data: Nov 3, 2015; Fun Shoe

Just reading that set me on edge tbh. I would have absolutely tried to find some way around him/her/it

# ? Oct 13, 2020 14:59

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

Ah yeah, the motherfucking Haint.

edit: The Haint story is further down along with another story that adds to the ambiance.

Coredump fucked around with this message at 03:37 on Oct 27, 2020

# ? Oct 14, 2020 13:33

A Fancy Hat: Nov 18, 2016; Always remember that the former President was dumber than the dumbest person you've ever met by a wide margin

My dad became a respiratory therapist in his late 30s after getting laid off from his factory job. The first hospital he worked at was in Uniontown, PA. This was a pretty old and (sadly) pretty run down and understaffed hospital at the time. My dad also was forced into a lot of lovely shifts and was forced to cover for people who called off sick. Some of it was to try and earn some extra money, some of it was being a newbie there. Either way, there were several late nights that he was the only attending respiratory therapist for an entire floor. Sometimes, an entire wing.

One night, he's walking through a hallway where they're doing some new construction. There's plastic sheeting all running down the middle of the hallway, cutting it in half. The plastic sheeting is clear but cloudy, with bits of paint and plaster caked to it. You can see through it, but everything's just kind of a mass of colors and shapes.

My dad says he got a really weird feeling going down the hall and assumed there was a construction worker or something in there behind the sheeting. As he's walking, he can see a roughly human shape on the other side a few feet ahead, walking back and forth. Okay, it's definitely a construction worker, that explains the feeling of being watched.

He walks down the hall and passes this shape, which then proceeds to follow my dad from the other side of the plastic. My dad is now convinced it's a patient or something behind the plastic, possibly somebody who needs help, but he's also freaked out to find out. He walks a few more feet and the thing stops, then straight up disappears. My dad finally has had enough and looks behind the plastic and there's nothing at all. Nobody's there, there's no place to hide, no holes in the floor, nothing.

He told us this story a few days later and then said he was probably just tired or it was somebody screwing with him.

That's the one and only supernatural thing he ever saw at that hospital. He started working at a hospital near Pittsburgh a few years later and only had one minor supernatural event. He was walking past the hospital church and saw a little kid in there through the open door. The kid's all by himself so my Dad goes in to make sure he's not abandoned or something. He's absolutely sure he saw this kid (and there were no other exits) but the second he walked in through the door the kid was just gone. My dad says it was like he just winked out of existence.

# ? Oct 15, 2020 17:13

The Zombie Guy: Oct 25, 2008

Soonmot posted:

Google failed me when I tried to find this years ago, I think it was called "The Shack" or something. It was about this weird shack in an industrial wasteland near some city where no one ever went. The cops came out to look for a kidnapping victim or a drug raid or something and saw something and unloaded at it. Nothing was hit, but there was a section of the shack where the bullet holes stopped, like something soaked them up and vanished.

I remember reading a follow-up to this story, which ended up having a sort-of explanation. From what I remember, somebody (can't remember if it was the story OP or another goon) did some research about this structure out in the boonies, and figured out that it was used for military training. They'd gas the gently caress out of the building, and have the soldiers practice tactical entry / clearing of a confined area with low visibility. The reason people would get all freaked out and see poo poo was due to the gas residue that was basically baked into the walls and dirt of the place. The missing bullets were explained as having gone through a gap in the metal. Not as cool as phantom dog thing in weird haunted shack, I know.

For content:

When I was younger, I remember asking my Dad if he believed in ghosts. He thought about it for a minute, then said he didn't know for sure, but something had happened that made him wonder about it.
When my parents first married, they lived alone in a farm house in a rural area. My Mom had gone to visit someone, and Dad was working on a car in the driveway. He had the car up on blocks, and was fiddling away underneath it, when he heard somebody calling his name. He scooted out from under the car to see who was there, and just as he stood up, one of the blocks tipped, and the car slammed down. If he had still been underneath it, he probably would have been killed. He looked for who called him, but there was nobody around. I asked if he knew who had called him. He said he couldn't figure out who it was, all he knew was that he had recognized the voice when he heard it.

# ? Oct 18, 2020 14:07

Bulky Bartokomous: Nov 3, 2006; In Mypos, only the strong survive.

This thread constantly delivers. Spectral Hobo was seriously unnerving.

# ? Oct 19, 2020 17:39

Diddums: Jan 31, 2014

Soonmot posted:

Google failed me when I tried to find this years ago, I think it was called "The Shack" or something. It was about this weird shack in an industrial wasteland near some city where no one ever went. The cops came out to look for a kidnapping victim or a drug raid or something and saw something and unloaded at it. Nothing was hit, but there was a section of the shack where the bullet holes stopped, like something soaked them up and vanished.

value-brand cereal posted:

http://nothotbutspicy.com/para/

It's about half-way down the basics page, but it's called The Patch.

# ? Oct 19, 2020 21:43

toggle: Nov 7, 2005

Objurium posted:

This happened a few years back while hiking out of a local canyon at night with a friend.

This is a beauty, thanks for sharing.

My Dad has some ghost 'Nam war stories which I will get him to tell me again and share them. Creepy jungle stuff

# ? Oct 20, 2020 00:15

RFC2324: Jun 7, 2012; http 418

toggle posted:

This is a beauty, thanks for sharing.

My Dad has some ghost 'Nam war stories which I will get him to tell me again and share them. Creepy jungle stuff

Hell yeah. Nightmare fuel for days

# ? Oct 20, 2020 16:13

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

Diddums posted:

It's about half-way down the basics page, but it's called The Patch.

That's awesome. I remember reading this story back in the day and the way its told is too good not to just paste it here:

Some Unknown Goon posted:

The Patch
Frankly, I do not expect this to be believed. But I'm going to tell it anyway, simply because its been weighing upon my mind lately. I ran into Flash last weekend, who was back in town, and he spoke to me about it.

Knowledge of the physical environment is essential to an LEO in Patrol. It is one reason why seniority counts for a great deal in this line of work-the longer you work a given juridiction, the better you know it. And locals who become police officers quickly learn that growing up in an area does not mean you truely know it.

Part of it, is that an LEO, unlike most people, has no perception of private or personal space. We can go anywhere, given correct circumstances. And because of that, a great deal of 'idle time' or 'routine patrol' is spent exploring. Can you get a patrol car through the gap in this fence? Where does that track lead? Is there a way to get from this parking lot to another? If you walk this easement or power-line access, what will you see?

This is essential, because at some point this knowledge can mean shaving thirty seconds off a response time, or catching a fleeing subject.

In every police jurisdiction of any size, in my experience, there is always at least one strange place. Not the spots you take rookies and play Find the Mud Hole, or the crime scenes you use to scare Explorers, but the real thing. The places that nobody talks about much. The places you don't find out about until you have to go there. The places you go to only if you have to.

We have a place that is sometimes called the Patch. Its about thirty-five acres of very broken ground covered in scrub oak on the edge of town, completely isolated from everywhere else, out beyond an old brick plant that now makes clay pots. Nothing, as far as I can tell, have ever been built there, nor is it really good for anything. Its at the base of the tall ridge that currently marks the west boundry of our burg, cut by numerous gullies, and whose red-clay soil is about useless from growng anything.

The City seized it for taxes back in 1932 from a land company; it was listed as 'waste land' (no commercial use) back then.

Its really a strange place. I've been on search teams across it six times in eleven years, and every time I've been on it, it creeps me out. It gave me the willies when I first explored it shortly after being cut loose on my own; you can't get a car very deep into it, and frankly, a short walk on foot into it gave me such a bad feeling I never went back without a reason. It wasn't until about eighteen months later that I learned that I was not alone in my reaction to the place.

One factual thing that bothers me about the place, is that I get lost in it. I have, since I was old enough to think about such things, an unerring instinct about the direction north. I can always find it. Night time, snowstorms, forest, whatever; give me a few seconds to concentrate, and I know which direction north is. Even the desert, which screws many people up, never bothered me. And the Army taught me land nav to a fine degree; I've run compass courses with multiple dog-legs and hit my target location every time, even on featureless terrtain such at Fort Hood, where one bit of scrub is identical to every other bit.

But every time I've been in the Patch, I've gotten turned around. In broad daylight, with a ridgeline a quarter-mile away that is only a couple degrees off a true north-south axis. After the first search, I started taking a compass with me.

Near the center of the Patch is a structure we call the Playhouse. Its a building made out of sheets of old galvanized tin nailed to thick posts and four-by fours, with a dirt floor. We call it the Playhouse because there is absolutely no rationale for its positioning or design; firstly, you can't get a vehicle larger than an ATV or dirt bike to it due to washouts and gullies; maybe a jacked-up 4x4 if it was dry and you really did not care about your paint job.

Secondly, because the place is big (about 3000 square feet, as near as we can tell), but has no purpose. There's no animal pens near it, nothing; just a wood framework with tin nailed to it, no tar on the roof-seams, no doors (but several door-way sized openings), no windows at all. Inside its split into at least a dozen 'rooms' by either more tin sheets, or partitions made out of old packing crates from the railroad. Some of the rooms are completely isolated from the exterior walls.

There is no logic or reason to how the rooms are laid out; several have openings that are barely 3' high. It reminds you of how kids put together a fort or treehouse.

Except that this one has cut-down telephone poles for roof supports set several feet into the ground. Whatever else you can say about it, someone built it to last.

There no junk or litter about the PH, and no grafftti; while its not very obvious, its been there since before the City seized the place, and with all the generations of kids, you would expect some beer-drinking, ghost-hunting, or general spray-can antics.

Nor is there any sign of animals taking advantage of the shelter, nor have I seen any bird's nests, although hornet's nests and mud daubers are present.

And it smells odd. That's all I can say about it: it smells different than what I think it should. This has been commented on by others, as well. No specific odor. Just odd.

And flashlights fail in it. Yes, flashlights fail everywhere, but flashlights seem to fail a lot more in it than anywhere else. $70 Streamlight Stingers that are City-issue and have reliable rechargeable batteries go abruptly dead in there. And not in the usual fashion, the light going yellow for twenty minutes, getting dimmer and dimmer until they just fade away; rather, going from hard white light to dead in a minute's span. When you carry the same light every day for years, you know its battery in detail. Yet many of us have been caught by an unexpected dead battery in the Playhouse.

Some time in the past, we were searching for a missing girl. It was likely that she had been carried off by a recent high water after massive cloud burst (10" in ten hours), but foul play was also a possibility, for reasons best unrelated. A search was mounted. I was tasked with taking two officers and checking the area around the old brick plant and the Patch.

I had two veteran officers, both entry team members and well-known to me; call them MD and Flash. They readily accepted my suggestion that we change into tactical gear in order to protect our uniforms from the brush; to be frank, I was less concerned with the brush, than for having an excuse to bring my MP-5 along. I wasn't alone in that, as unbidden, both Flash & MD got their shotguns out of the arms room. Flash had a 14" pump, and MD a Benneli semi-auto.

We searched the Patch first; and although all three of us were carefully keeping track of where we were in a place we had all been in before, we managed to get well and truely turned around twice in the space of ninety minutes.

It took us a lot longer than it should have to search the area, because frankly, we weren't splitting up. At all. Anywhere else, we would have been twenty to thirty feet apart walking on line. Here, we stuck together. We had been on other search teams which had gotten got hopelessly jumbled and separated in the Patch before.

It was late afternoon when we went to the Playhouse. The sky was completely overcast, the color of lead. The ground was muddy, everything was wet, and there was a cold breeze out of the north. To say it was a miserable day was an understatement.

We circled the Playhouse, looking for footprints, and found nothing. However, drainage was such that it was possible that they could have been washed away, so a search was nessessary.

Inside, there were no gaps in the ceiling to speak of, and very few in the walls; the gray daylight hardly made its presence known through what gaps there were, although the dull light through nail holes made you think (unpleasently) of animal eyes in the night.

I led the way in. Twenty feet in a portable metal detector (a wand type used to check for weapons) that Flash was carrying suddenly started beeping, and did not stop until he pulled the battery pack; he swore it had been turned off the whole time he had been out. Later, at the PD, it worked perfectly.

We were clearing the place like a hostile building, rather than a seach; we had not talked about it, but all three of us were on edge. Very much so. The place smelled very wrong; not a smell of anything in particular, just not the way such a place should smell. I can't explain it any way better than that.

I was on one knee checking out a closet sized-'room' when abruptly the light on my MP-5 died, going from white & bright to dead in a couple seconds. Flash took point and MD center while I tagged along and switched batteries (I had a couple full-charged spares on me, as well as two more flashlights and some cylumes).

A minute or so later Flash's light died the same way, and he dropped to the rear to change out, while MD and I moved up a place. We stopped at that point, and we heard something. Flash muttered 'What was that?' and we all listened carefully.

It was coming from ahead and to our right; we did not speak at the time, of course, but later, we never agreed on what it sounded like. To me, it had sounded like a sick cat might sound as it whimpers.

We moved forward towards the noise, and came to a largeish room which had the exterior wall on one side. MD made entry, and at that exact moment his flashlight died. He immedately side-stepped and dropped to one knee; I moved in and past him along the wall as Flash slid along the wall on the opposite side of the 'doorway'.

Flash was to the left of the 'doorway', MD was right, kneeling, and I was about two feet to MD's right . The room was about twenty by eleven, with us at the narrow side.

And something moved in the far right corner. Flash hit it with his light a second before I did; I remember MD yelling, and then both fired.

To this day, I swear I saw a big dark dog, I mean large, 150+lbs, bull mastiff-sized, in Flash's light, moving fast.

I fired, three-round burst, and then kept firing as MD and Flash pounded away. Both went empty and yelled that they were withdrawing (team procedure), and I fired to cover them as I backed out last.

After the first burst, I couldn't see much for the muzzle flash, so I just ripped up the corner with three-round bursts. I fired off the full thirty-round mag.

In retrospect, I can not explain why I fired thirty rounds at a dog. There was no valid reason to simply hose it down; nor for Flash and MD to blaze away like we had. Nerves, is the only explanation I can offer. All I can say is that that encounter was quite simply the most stressful incident I have ever had, bar none.

In the second room, we reloaded, and MD switched out batteries. Then we re-entered the long room.

There was no dog. No body. No blood. Zip.

None of us decribed what we saw the same way. Flash was extremely reluctant to describe what he saw at all.

But there are a couple facts: all three saw a target 'in motion'. Despite the fact that we all perceived it as being in motion, we all saw it in a corner, and never shifted our point of aim, despite the fact that we all trained regularly on moving targets, MD & Flash were hunters (I shoot lots of moving varmits), I served in military actions, and both Flash and I had been in fatal police shootings.

And we had twelve 12 gauge 3" magnum hulls and 30 expended 9mm brass. Thirty bullets and 108 000 pellets were fired at a specific area, in this case an area consisting of a dirt floor and tin walls. All three of us were classified as expert shots.

No matter how closely we, nor the two investigators who came out later, looked, we could find no hits on the floor, and only 23 projectile penetrations in the tin walls. Out of 138 projectiles fired (000 pellets are 0.36" in diameter steel balls; 9mm bullets are roughly 0.38), 105 remain unaccounted for. The 23 holes we found were concentrated in the target corner; 9 to the left, 14 to the right of the corner, with the two groups 22" apart at the closest.

As if something solid between the two groups had soaked up the missing rounds.

The dept wrote the incident off as an 'accidental discharge'.

The girl was eventually found elsewhere.

Flash, MD, and I never realy talked about the indicent except indirectly. All three admitted having felt more stress than before or since.

None of the three of us have been to the Patch since. Both MD and Flash have moved on to other agencies for unrelated reasons.

One of the creepier things from later on: when we tried to explain the whole matter (and a firefight is not a joking matter to the police, no matter that no one got hurt), the administration members we were dealing with, who have been LEOs here for 40+ and 30+ years respectively, nodded, asked few questions, and let the matter drop.

Thats all there is to it.

# ? Oct 20, 2020 16:36

Diddums: Jan 31, 2014

There are two stories I remember details of but haven't been able to find since I first read them and don't know if they came from here.

1. Person's friend dies and they have a dream of meeting them walking down the road. They call his name, but when he turns around, his face is loose and mask-like and a weird voice answers instead.

2. Person is home alone working at desk on 2nd floor. They go downstairs to find the first floor trashed and a note of how long someone had been in their house watching them work. I think it ended with the note saying "I wonder what would have happened if you had seen me".

# ? Oct 22, 2020 18:29

SniperWoreConverse: Mar 20, 2010; Gun Saliva

i remember that second one, the goon had just got some kind of fancy new headphones and couldn't hear poo poo. Ignored all the weird vibes and kept studying the whole time. I think it was when the family got home that they realized. Maybe the note was by the bedroom door?

# ? Oct 22, 2020 20:23

Diddums: Jan 31, 2014

Headphones were the thing I was missing from my searching.

Look at Me

This happened in my junior year of high school.

One evening, my mother and stepfather had gone out to some event, maybe it was an extended dinner or a concert, it�s hard to remember. I had stayed at home to work on a paper that was due the next day (I was one of those kids who procrastinated until the last minute) and spent the whole night working at the desk in my room. To give you a picture of the room, my desk faces a wall and sits next to a small window that�s on the same wall, and from where I sit, my back faces my doorway. While I was working, I was wearing these great headphones that I had gotten for my birthday � the kind that are noise canceling.

My parents left the house around 6:00 PM, and the whole time they were gone, I sat at my desk, blasting music through my headphones and writing my essay. Occasionally, I would take breaks and watch the rain and lightning outside my window (we lived in Houston at the time and there was a big storm that night). I never left my desk.

My parents returned around 11:00 PM. At some point late late in the evening, I had removed my headphones, so when my parents came home (coincidentally just a few minutes after I had taken off my headphones), I clearly heard the garage door open and my parents open the door to the house. Seconds after I hear them enter, I hear my mother shout my name. �Adrian!� she screams, �what on earth happened in here!?� Confused, I get out of my chair and start walking through the house to them. There�s only a small hallway that separates my room from the living room. Due to my rush to figure out why my mother was yelling, I paid little attention to the hall and the house. After a few moments, I get to my parents. My mom looks livid. She�s pointing at the carpet floor yelling, �Was this you!? Did you have friends over!?� I look down. The carpet is ruined. It�s covered in muddy footprints.

I frantically explain to her that I have no idea how those got there, that I spent the whole night at my desk working on my paper. I watch as her face goes from anger, to confusion, to fear. We realize that someone else must have entered the house. Quickly we scan the footprints, trying to make sense of the situation. It only takes us a few moments to figure out where they start: our back door, which we usually left unlocked. Then we noticed something else. The footprints started at the backdoor, but there were no footprints exiting the back door.

We hear something pounding through our house. We hear the front door get torn open, then slammed shut with a sharp WHAM!

We all run into the garage and lock the door. My mom starts shouting at the police through the phone, �Please come quickly! Someone�s broken into our house!�After what seems like hours, the police arrive. An officer stays with us in the garage as his partner goes through the house room by room. His partner tells us that it�s safe to go back in, that there�s no one in the house. Then she asks us a question. She asks us whose room is down the hall to the left. My parents look at me and I tell the officer that it�s mine. She asks us to follow her down the hall.

As we go, it�s easy to see that the footprints weave through my house from the back door. They go through the living room, through the small hallway, into my parents room (which is down the hall to the right) and then turn around towards my room. They stop in my doorway.

Then the officer points at my door, which I had left open the whole night. On it, in black sharpie, was written the following:

My Log

8:47: I see you

8:53: You forgot to lock the back door

8:59: You seem focused

9:24: Turn around

9:47: Look at me

10:15: Look at me

10:37: Look at me

10:49: Look at me

For nearly two hours, someone stood in my doorway watching me. To this day, I shutter to think about what would have happened if I had ever turned around and looked at them.

# ? Oct 22, 2020 22:34

Ghislaine of YOSPOS: Apr 19, 2020

Moar OP!!!

# ? Oct 23, 2020 03:02

Hazo: Dec 30, 2004; SCIENCE

Wait, is this goons being sarcastic or is this thread legit. Cause the ghost story threads were some of my favorites and I used to curate the annual threads prior to nu-GBS and hilarious edgy dudes started shitposting and I thought they just kinda died after that

quote:

Here are some basic links, courtesy of Missing Name:

Click here for Clickhere's (get it?) story archive at Ghost Story, or here for his favorites.

Creepypasta.com aka "Let's spook some poo poo up"4chan/SA/reddit stories.

Drimble Wedge's linkdump of some older threads and stories. (Archives may be required!)

Anything Ghost Show. "Now have your ghost tales read to you in a soothing podcast!"

not hot but spicy: An excellent non-archive-required compilation of old ghost story threads.

http://www.thuneral.com/eerie/Same as above: Another Goon-hosted source for older threads for your perusal

"It Is A Mystery": 300+ page PDF of 2004/2005/2011 ghost stories painstakingly compiled by Noodle Incident, complete with table of contents and index. (Alternate link from coronatae)

I've compiled (as far as I know) links to all past major ghost story threads (note that Archives are required for most of them, but if you don't have the feature and can't find it in the above links, I'll be happy to do my best to retrieve it for you):

# ? Oct 23, 2020 04:47

SniperWoreConverse: Mar 20, 2010; Gun Saliva

sincereposting is the only way

what was that one in florida where the goon was dropping off groceries to some poor native americans?

Also there was that other one with a goon & bud in the swamp on a boat?

# ? Oct 23, 2020 12:15

Hazo: Dec 30, 2004; SCIENCE

SniperWoreConverse posted:

sincereposting is the only way

what was that one in florida where the goon was dropping off groceries to some poor native americans?

Dunno about this one but it's probably in the skin-walker thread

quote:

Also there was that other one with a goon & bud in the swamp on a boat?

quote:

About 18 years ago, my buddy Kyle and I went canoeing down in south Georgia during the summer. The first part of the trip took us down the Satilla, a beautiful black water river with white sandy beaches. That part of the vacation was uneventful. The trip through the Okefenokee Swamp was not, however.

Even at the age of 17 we were fairly experienced campers. Every weekend we would hike or float down a river. We never left without first plotting a detailed map and we had the best equipment a couple of teenagers could afford. We always planned for the unexpected and made sure to take an extra couple of days worth of supplies. The trip into the swamp was only going to be a short day trip, leaving early in the morning and returning before dusk. We were totally unprepared for what happened.

We set off into the swamp early Saturday morning, leisurely paddling along the well marked canoe trail. We took in the sights of the gorgeous landscape, the beautiful plants and of course we marveled at the alligators. The two of us were loving every minute of our trek. Nearing midday, we became hungry so we paddled away from the trail a short distance, tied up to a tree, and made lunch.

After eating our ramen noodles and jerky we relaxed in the canoe, and soon both of us fell asleep. We woke up a couple of hours later and started paddling back to the main path. We thought so, anyway.

It didn't take us long to realize that we were lost. Neither of us felt any panic or distress. We had been in worse situtations and never failed to get through them. We were both confident we would soon find our way out of the maze in which we found ourselves.

The hours passed and the sun was getting lower in the sky. Still far from panicking, we were growing a bit anxious. We were just chalking it up to another 'Scott and Kyle Adventure'.

The sky continued to darken. At this point, we realized that we were going to have to spend the night in the swamp. Again, it was nothing we were really all that concerned about. We knew that the park rangers would be out looking for us the next day since our return time had come and gone. Kyle's family was staying in a nearby lodge, and even though we knew they naturally worried about us, we also knew that they were confident in our abilities and outdoor skills.

In the Okefenokee, camping is allowed only on platforms built above the water. That way the gators can't get ya. Obviously, we didn't have the luxury of a platform, so we tied up to another tree and just made ourselves as comfortable as possible in the boat.

We passed the time by eating, fishing, and watching the gators. Soon the sun had completely decended and it was night. It was eerily beautiful, and it seemed that Mother Nature had cranked up the volume to 11. The birds, frogs, insects and other swamp creatures became louder and louder. We talked about the sort of things that teenage boys talk about. We laughed and just enjoyed the moments.

THUMP. Something hit the bottom of our boat. THUMP THUMP. Again, something hit our boat. Kyle raised our small lantern and we saw what had to have been the largest alligator in the whole freaking swamp swim past. If it was less than 15 feet long I would be surprised. It turned around and came straight at us, hitting the boat again. Kyle grabbed his oar and smacked the water, hoping to scare the drat thing away. The gator seemed to grow even more brazen and aggressive and once again made a pass at our boat, really hitting it hard and rocking it a good bit. I felt like I was in an alligator version of 'Jaws'. We needed a bigger boat, indeed! I too grabbed an oar and we both began beating the hell out of the water. The gator went under us, REALLY knocked the poo poo out of the boat, and swam away. We thought it had left for good, but it returned after about 5 minutes. We repeated this entire cycle about 4 times. We were really getting scared that this fucker wanted to kill us. It swam away again, and we waited for it to make another strike.

Then everything went silent. Instantly. And by silent, I mean there was NOTHING making a sound. Not a loving peep. Even the mosquitos that had been pestering us by buzzing around our faces had suddenly disappeared. We both looked at each other; our puzzled faces were illuminated by the dim lantern. Neither of us wanted to say anything to break the silence. I don't really think either of us could have said anything, anyway.

SPLASH. SPLISH SPLASH. The sound was off to our right, probably 20-30 yards away. That drat gator again, I thought. Thankfully the eerie silence was giving way to some sort of activity. Nope, nothing else made a sound. SPLAAASH. This one sounded heavier; more violent. I told myself it was still just the gator.

Kyle whispered. "Why is it so quiet?"
I didn't have an answer. Surely, no animal in the swamp was so threatening that even the drat crickets and skeeters shut up. Not even our gator menace had quieted the sounds of the Okefenokee.

Of course, as in all movie thrillers, the lantern went out and we couldn't reignite it. And of course, as in all situations like this, the clouds parted and the moon revealed itself.

And of course, the two teenage boys who up to this point were relatively unrattled nearly pissed themselves.

SPLASH! Something darted through the trees to our right. It was not an animal. Well, if it was an animal it was walking on its hind legs. A bear maybe?

"Christ. What in the gently caress was that?!" I said, but not too loudly. Didn't want it to hear me.

"SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS". Something made a sound like air escaping from a tire. The same figure we saw earlier moved through the trees again.

CRACK! THUMP. CRAAACK! The cracks were sharp and violent. The thump was dull and had a hollow tone to it. Still no other sounds in the whole freaking area.

"SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS". There it was again, only a little louder.

Several minutes passed with nothing happening. Our little part of the world was still deathly silent.

PLOP.

Something landed in the water right next to our canoe. PLOP. PLOP PLOP PLOP. It became apparent that the thing was throwing pebbles or something at us.
Okay, now this is getting loving ridiculous, I thought. Bears don't loving throw things. Both Kyle and I simultaneously drew our hunting knives from their sheaths, as if that was going to do anything whatsoever.

What happened next was something I will never forget. It is something that both of us wish we had dreamed. It is something that we don't even speak about when we see each other almost 20 years later. Jesus, I'm getting goosebumps and quite nervous even typing this.

CLINK. Something landed in our canoe. CLINK CLINK. Two more somethings landed in our canoe. CLINK CLINK CLINK. Ok, enough with loving THROWING poo poo INTO OUR CANOE!

It was then we realized that whatever the objects were had come from above, NOT from either side. We looked at each other, our faces so white they rivaled the moon. At the same time, our gazes drew upward.

There it was. Sitting in the tree. OUR TREE. The tree to which we were tied. You know that goat in Jurassic Park that was tied up for the T-Rex to eat? Yeah, we were that goat.

I swear to christ that this thing must have been a child of the moon. The moon seemed to cast down its light on our friend in particular, illuminating it much more clearly than anything else in the area. It was as if the moon wanted us to see this thing in all its glory.

It was humanoid- it had the body of a man with the head of the skull of some kind of animal. It looked kind of like a wolf or coyote or something similar. The eyes glowed yellow, and there was fur covering the shoulders and upper body. This thing was built like a tank, too. Its muscles rippled under its pale skin. It breathed deeply and slowly. In one hand it held some sort of staff that was maybe 3 feet long with a huge knot at one end. Around its neck there was a pouch made from leather.

Oh, one thing I should mention is that this tree had no branches on the lower half of the tree where the creature was. It was grasping the tree with one arm, the staff clutched tightly in that hand. Its feet seemed to be dug into the tree trunk.
With its free hand, he pointed at us. Keep in mind that Kyle and I were in opposite ends of the boat, but each of us swore that it was looking straight into the eyes of each of us. Strangely, our sense of fear went away once it gazed into us. A sense of calm and 'This is gonna be ok' came over us. Slowly, it withdrew its outstretched hand, opened the pouch around its neck, reached two long fingers inside and took something out. It slowly extended its arm again, and dropped the objects into our boat.

"GWAHHHHHHHHHHHHH SSSSSSSSSSSSSKKKKKKKKKKKKKHHHHHH" is the best approximation of the sound it made. It pointed at us again, then pointed off into the distance, to our right.

It leapt from the tree, landed with a very quiet splash, and darted off. The clouds gathered around the moon, and all the swamp's inhabitants began making their music once again.

Of course, we didn't sleep a wink. We sat in silence for the rest of the night, too awed and scared to speak.

The direction it pointed to turned out to be the way back to the trail.

The objects in our boat? Alligator teeth. Freshly dug out from a recently dead gator.

It was clear that this thing had been watching over us.

Once we got back to the canoe center, we told the story of being lost and the gator to the park rangers and Kyle's family. We left the part about our friend out. After we all settled down a bit, we talked to the rangers about the history of the swamp, hoping to gain some insight into what had happened. They mentioned nothing about ghosts, and scoffed at us when we brought it up. They did say that many indian burial mounds have been found, though... some 4000 years old.

Anyway, Kyle and I talked it about once and only once after it happened. It was so amazing, unbelievable, and awe inspiring that we have no need to discuss it I guess. As for telling the story, no one would believe us anyway.

There's a great illustration from this story too, but I just moved into a new house and I haven't dug out my old hard drive but I'll try and remember

# ? Oct 23, 2020 14:31

Soonmot: Dec 19, 2002; Entrapta fucking loves robots; Grimey Drawer

Hazo posted:

Wait, is this goons being sarcastic or is this thread legit. Cause the ghost story threads were some of my favorites and I used to curate the annual threads prior to nu-GBS and hilarious edgy dudes started shitposting and I thought they just kinda died after that

Yeah I already ran into a couple of those in the archive site that killed my enthusiasm for reading more. I love spooky stories, but I despise the obviously fake ones that don't even try to achieve suspension of disbelief

# ? Oct 26, 2020 19:09

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

Hazo posted:

Wait, is this goons being sarcastic or is this thread legit. Cause the ghost story threads were some of my favorites and I used to curate the annual threads prior to nu-GBS and hilarious edgy dudes started shitposting and I thought they just kinda died after that

I'm posting stories from way back when that I liked because I still believe dammit. But if I get heckled that's fine too. If anyone else is here for sincere spook stories the more the merrier.

In my excitement to post The Haint story I cut off some more stories from the same post.

Parkour Lewis posted:

Speaking of Hills Lake, that little piece of hell could fill an entire book with the stories. The place is dark and creepy, even during the day. The trees are twisted, like out of a bad horror movie. Most people who've gone to Hills Lake at night have sworn that they would never return, even in the daytime. I've heard stories of odd screams heard that were almost, but not quite, entirely unlike human. Also of strange noises that sounded half-machine and half-animal. Hills Lake was one of the many popular hanging spots for black folks in this area back in the earlier part of the 20th century. And I don't mean hanging out with da boys.

Back in '93, I did a six-month stint at the local EZ-Mart convenience store, pulling the graveyard shift. One night, I'm doing paperwork a the counter and I hear the bell ring as the front door opens. I was too tied up in my paperwork, so I didn't look up immediately, but I saw a little black kid walk up to the counter in my peripheral vision, and stop in front of me. I look up finally, and no one's there. I chalked it up to midnight madness. Well, a couple months ago I'm talking to one of the clerks working there now, and during the conversation I joke that the store is haunted by a little black boy I saw late one night. The clerk, she looks me right in the eyes and calmly says, "No, it's a little girl, and she likes to play with the hats on that display stand." Her and the other clerk then commence to regale me with the tales of hearing the noise of chewing gum smacking late at night, of hearing the doorbell ring when no one's opened the door, of hearing unexplained ticking noises in the stockroom, etc. then they tell me someone, somewhere apparently researched the history of the place, and found out that in the 20' or 30's some little black girl was hanged from a tree in the exact spot where that store now stands. I asked my father about it and he says that that area, and the surrounding areas near the town square, was a common places to sometimes discover the occasional black man or woman hanging from a tree for some offense or other against the white folks, so the story about the little girl may very well be true.

The Back 1100, also known as the Holland Quarters, is 1100 acres of land that was bequeathed to the black slaves back in the 1800s when they were freed, considering it was the quarters where they were living already anyway. There are more tales of black AND white folks dying there than there are actual residents living there. But the most well known is "The Haint". A friend of mine's Dad, and two of his friends, were camping out in the Back 1100 once back int he 80's. They were all big, tough construction workers, one of them a big ol' white redneck, the other a brawny black guy, and the third a gigantic, fearless half-mexican/indian man named Sambo. Well, Sambo was tired of camping and hunting after a couple nights, and decided he was going to sling his rifle over his shoulder and walk the few miles back to town, then home. Ten minutes after he left, the other two men heard two gunshots, followed by a deep-throated scream and more rapid gunshots, the a few minutes later Sambo comes running into the cabin, slams the door shut, runs into the bedroom and locks himself in. Wouldn't come out until morning. When they all awoke, the two men asked Sambo what the hell had happened. He told them he was walking along the old dirt road to town, when he came upon a fence row intersecting the road, and he saw someone silhouetted against the moonlight, standing on the other side of the fence. He waved and greeted them, but they didn't move, so he stopped and said "Hello" again. After no response, he started walking again, and the other person started walking, also, along the fence row toward the road to meet him. He stopped to say something again, and they stopped. He said hello a third time, then started walking slowly again, thinking it must be a reflection, then stopped again to squint and get a better look. Thinking he was maybe about to be robbed, he fired a rifle shot into the air to scare whoever it was. No movement. He took a step forward and fired a second shot. The figure then walked through the loving fence and came after him at an impossible speed. Sambo freaked, and took off running like a bat out of hell, blindly firing his rifle behind him until he ran out of shells, until he got back to the cabin. You still can't get him to go anywhere near the Back 1100 again, to this day. After asking around, My friend's dad found out that this was far from the first time this specter had shown itself to someone, and that the locals of the Back 1100 called it "The Haint".

toolboi posted:

Everything I write here is 100% true, but its not that fantastic so you shouldn't need this confirmation.
I have borrowers in my house. I mean this literally. I always have. When I was 10 in my old home (now my summer home) I bought a chocolate bar ( a rare occrance, there was only one store on the island and I rarely went there), which cost nearly $5 because it was some stupid "save the wild life" chocolate (the people on that island were such hippies). I ate half of it and saved the other half for after dinner, placing it on our book case. TO give an idea of how it looked, it was wrapped in foil so it was nice and shiny and was sitting on the book case right in front of books, no place it could go to.

After dinner I got up to get it and it was gone. I blamed my little sister who liked to do things like this, but she claimed that she didn't do it (and though I accused her, I knew that she hadn't, she just had that look in her eye). My dad decided to help me look for it, and we searched the entire book shelf, checked drawers, everything. Even my mother started searching, but no one could find it.

I gave up and started clearing the table, when suddenly I had this urge to go look, just once more. Sitting out in the middle of the bookshelf was the little thing of tin foil.

Ok, so that's nothing special, but the one that freaked me out happened years later in a new home. I by this time was 100% sure that we had borrowers in the hosue (I kid you not, I do beleive this), and so I was always ready to stop looking for something in order to find it.

My folks were away and so I invited a friend over to watch some movies. Of note I wanted to rent "Jacobs Ladder" because I remember it being freaky as all hell, and still incredibly intelligent, thought provoking, and fun (I had seen it when I was 11 so my views were a little skewed). It was still good, but not that good. In fact it wasn't particularly scary.

I was on the couch near the chair, we had dumped our coats on the far end, and put on the movie (as well as turning out all the lights, of course.
Half way through the movie I put the VCR remote down on the couch next to me and focused my attention on the movie. All of a sudden my friend shouts "WHAT THE gently caress WAS THAT!", I ask what and he claims that he heard heavy breathing behind him. I laughed and said that the movie was getting to him and went back to watching.

Suddenly I hear what he's talking about, a heavy breathing, like a dog who feels threatened coming form the shadows behind the chair and under my computer table. I know that my friend isn't making the noise, I know him really well and can tell when hes loving with me like that, but I don't trust myself. And so I laugh at my self as I know that at this point I'm getting freaked out and my mind is making up the sounds. So I just continue to watch, ignoring the fact that I'm scared (actually I was quite enjoying it).

Movie ends and I got to rewind the tape, yet I cant find the remote. I look around, i check all the cracks in the couch, we turn all the lights on and search under the couch, in the kitchen, by the TV, EVERYTHING. I know that I had it on the couch, and put it down there. Finally we say gently caress it, I rewind it by hitting the rewind botton on the VCR and we start cleaning the place up a bit. I go to hand up the coats on the end of the couch, the coats that we hadn't touched since walking into the house, before we even turned on the TV, and sitting square under BOTH of them is the remote.
Needless to say, being on end from the movie and the supposed breathing had us a little spooked, but finding the remote under the jackets that neither of us had touched for ages freaked the living poo poo out of me.

Another one: My parents are hippies who came back form India in the mid eighties to raise me. When I was 6 we moved into this old run down house in White Rock BC owned by this kind old lady. It had a big front yard with a nice little pond that used to be surrounded by fireflies in the summer, and a nice big cherry tree. It was a wonderful place, but the plumbing in the hosue was AWFUL. My dad would be trying to fix it daily, but as soon as you fixed one thing another would break, and so on and so forth. The land lady admitted that the place did have rather bad plumbing (it was an old house).

One day my mother turns to my dad and says "I think we have a water spirit in the house". So she takes some incense (sp?) down to the pond, and does a little mantra/prayer to the water spirit and asks if it can leave us alone. We never had plumbing problems again. Not even a drip. We lived there for 5 years. However when we moved out and the next people moved in (old friend of ours who had loved the place, and wed talked the land lady into renting to them) suddenly the pond its self started leaking through the soil, and the plumbing started acting up again.

bslatimer posted:

In the 60's, when my mom was 16 she started studying the bible and learning about god from my aunt. My aunt taught her that playing around with the occult and ghosts and such was wrong and can be very dangerous... fast forward a little while. My mom is at a sleep over with 5 other girls and one of them brings a Ouija Board and they decide to play with it. At first they can't get it to work but when they pass it to two other girls it starts moving by itself. They ask the name of the spirit and it spells out E-V-E. My mom, remembering what my aunt had taught her, starts to get really scared and asks if they can do something else. When they refuse, she goes in the other room and starts praying. After an hour or so, one of the girls comes and gets her and tells her that they had put it away. When she gets back to the other room no one is very talkative and no one seems to be having any fun. She asks what happened and no one says anything, until finally one of the girls speaks up and says that they were asking where "Sarah" would be in the year 2000 and it spelled out D-E-A-D. They asked where "Jane" would be in the year 2000 and it spelled D-E-A-D. After it did the same with the 3rd girl I guess no one else wanted to play with it any more. Nothing like a little Mortality check to kill the mood of your slumber party. Anyway... fast forward to present. My mom says that of the 3 girls the spirit fortold would die, she kept in contact with 2 as she got older, and as we speak, they are in fact, dead. One from Cervical Cancer and one in a Car Accident. It gave me the willies when she told me this story.

Senile Kitty posted:

Ghosts have always intriuiged me, but i'd never experienced one ever. Nothing slightly paranormal, up until about a month ago. My friend Marty has a house that is supposedly haunted. Being skeptical I never really beleived the stories, most of them tame.

The house is in front of these woods in a small neighborhood next to the airport... it's a fairly big home. Two stories and a balcony that looks out into the woods in the backyard which is a cool view, but can be creepy at night. Anyway, people who had been to his house alot or spent the night had experienced some of the stuff that went on.

The kind of paranormal activity wasn't so blatant that you'de say "OMG GHOST", but it was definatly there. Things would dissapear frequently, and reappear in the same place days later. Marty would often leave things such as his guitar in his room, and upon returning home from work, it would be gone. Vanished. A little while later in the evening, it was right back where he left it. The father smokes quite a bit, he would leave smoking cigarettes on the counter ash tray while he did something and when he turned back around to pick it back up it would be completely gone, no sign of smoke or anything. My friend Brian had also noted hearing tapping on the windows (these are upstairs windows that face the front of the house, theres no way that anything could tap on them in such a way) and hearing hoarse whispering at night. My friend Brian isn't the kind of guy that's into paranormal stuff either, he doesn't even beleive in any kind of religion... only logic. So that surprised me that even he backed up the claims. Marty's girlfriend also backed up Marty's story about how they were having sex in his room on the couch, and they both saw a grey kind of apparition of a woman run inhumanly fast across the room and dissapear. That was one of the only incidents of actually seeing a ghost in the flesh.

Well I finally got a chance to spend the night at his house, we planned on smoking a few bowls that night with our friend and play Counter-strike. I had forgotten about the ghost stories surrounding his house until his dad came upstairs and said told us that he was going to bed and that if I heard anything it was normal and the ghost doesn't do anything bad. It made me feel uneasy hearing it straight from his father. We hadn't smoked anything yet, we were just playing Counter-strike on the network of two computers. One in Marty's room, and one in the study. I was in the study playing when I noticed a shadow move across the wall in front of me, almost like a light under a fan would. Thinking that's what it was, I looked up but remembered there was no fan in the room. So I decided it was probably just a car passing on the road outside and the street light had cast a shadow through the window. I kept playing, but it happened again, this time the shadow stopped about half way and went back... that really freaked me out. I knew a car didn't move like that, it moved more like a shadow of an animal or person would be... but I was alone in the study. I went to the window and opened the blinds, and I saw that the street lights WERENT EVEN ON. That was the only explanation of the shadows I had, and nothing else could have caused them. I moved out of the study and joined them in the other room.

The other thing that stuck out in my mind was when we left a lighter and an ice pick on the desk in the study, going into the other room to get some tin foil, and returning to see that the ice pick and lighter were gone. We had to stumble through the dark all the way back downstairs and saw that the ice pick was BACK in it's holder! And the lighter dissapeared completely. We didn't find it for the rest of the night. Strange.

I didn't witness anything too ground breaking, but it definatly changed my view on whether theres a possibility of haunting in our world.

Also have a video to watch from way back in the early 2000's: World's Scariest Ghosts Caught on Tape https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZUtZ9hl37s

# ? Oct 27, 2020 03:36

Coredump: Dec 1, 2002

kazmeyer posted:

Okay, might as well throw in one of mine.

I woke up from an extremely screwy nightmare one night at about 2:30am. In it, I was out with two of my friends, and we had found some sort of quarry we were exploring. Toward the bottom of it, there was a cave that seemed to be much darker than the evening light should account for. There was this black mark on the rock wall next to it, kind of a funny shape, and now that I try to think of it I can't even visualize the drat thing. We went inside to take a look around, and the next thing I knew, I was looking at my headless corpse collapsing to the ground. Cue wakeup and bitten off scream. Son of a bitch hurt too. Didn't think you were supposed to hurt in dreams.

I hop on the local BBS (yeah, back in the day) because there's no loving way I'm sleeping now. The two friends who were with me in the dream are online.

Sidian: Hey Murph, what's up?
Snoopy: Another night owl, eh?
Me: Yeah, had this really hosed up dream. What are you guys doing up? Sid, don't you have work tomorrow?
<uncomfortable silence>

Turns out the three of us had the exact same dream. Down to the weird mark on the wall. Creepy.

It got worse when, about three months later, the two of them were driving with two other mutual friends, and they were looking for some place to hold a big outdoor party. They found a quarry about ten or fifteen miles outside of town, and upon exploring it discovered a really odd cave at the bottom of it. With a black mark on the wall next to it.

Cue 50-yard dash to the car. They wouldn't explain what was going on until they were miles away from that place. They never did take me, no matter how many times I asked.

Sanschel posted:

I used to live in northern New Jersey, and for my first camping trip my best friend (we were both about 7) and our dad's took us to some forest way south of us. When we pulled into the area we would be camping out in, I could swear I saw something moving around in the bushes a short distance away, but I shrugged it off as deer or something. So the rest of that day is normal camping activities, followed by s'mores and a nighttime walk to look at the stars (the trees formed a canopy where we were camped, so you had to walk a short ways to actually see anything upwards). So we go and look at the stars, and as we're walking back, my friend's dad spots something riling through one of the tents. So we all start running towards the site making as much noise as possible, thinking it would scare anything off. When we get to the tent it was in, the sleeping bags that were in there were ripped to pieces, and the cooler that the food was in was gone, but the lid had been ripped off. Our dads let us use their tents and they decided to sit up for a little just in case whatever it was should come back. I'd guess it was about two hours later when they woke us up and quietly told us to grab everything and get into the car as quickly as possible. We packed up in a flash and my dad drove like a bat out of hell. To this day I can't get him to tell me what happened, and the last time I spoke to my friend, he said his dad turns white if he brings it up. Nothing really direct there, but it still freaks me out to think about. Especially since, if it were just a wild animal, why wouldn't they tell us? (often when I tell this story people say, "Oh, you must've seen the Jersey Devil!" which I find a crock of poo poo as I've always hated that legend and I'm fairly certain we weren't in the right forest even if that thing is real).

The next thing isn't all that big, but after we moved out to california, late at night, when nothing in my room was on, I could hear whispering. Not coherent sentences, but I'd hear it in that half-asleep stage, then bolt upright and respond as if I was asked a question or had been told something. Afterwards I'd always wonder a) what the voice had said to make me respond with whatever I yelled and b) how I could understand what the voice(s) would say to me (for example, my parents have heard me yell , "Shut up, dumbass" several times, and I recall saying "I'm not going there" and "Go gently caress yourself" a couple of times; in retrospect, I guess I'm quite belligerent to disembodied voices/my own growing insanity).

The next one is really small. We had to put our cat to sleep about six years ago (wow, it really hasn't seemed that long; anyway, he was an all-black bombay with bright yellow eyes), and ever since then both of my parents and myself have seen a small black mass out of the corners of our eyes, or seen him sitting in the middle of a room only to have him be gone upon a double-take, and there have been numerous times that an all-black cat with bright yellow eys has shown up in our back yard (although this one is slightly fatter than our cat was), usually to chase around the hummingbirds who live out back. Creepy nonetheless.

The third is that for the first three years after moving to cali, my monitor would make this horrible crackling sound followed by horrificly loud sentences surrounded by static (usually things like "I can hear ya jest fine now" or "the level's not so good for this one"; typical cb or ham radio stuff i assume). After three years of getting this intermittently, we realized that a guy a few blocks over had a gigantic ham radio tower amplifier thingie (i dont know what it was, as i don't know jack poo poo about ham radio). My mom and I went over there one day to see if the guy knew some way that we could fix it and I wouldn't go deaf from hearing weird crap coming from my speakers. The lady who answered the door said she didn't know because her husband used the radio. I'm sure you can all guess by now that the husband had been dead for a good time (5 years) and that nobody had used the radio since. The creepiest thing about this is that after going over there, I never got the monitor voice again. In my book, this one has a lot of loose ends that I really, really don't like, such as why this lady kept that huge, ugly rear end tower if nobody was using it (I also kind of wanted to discredit the ghost theory from my mind by saying the tower was simply boosting a signal from elsewhere, but that never sat right with me).

This story inspired some ~~forum's catchphrases~~ memes there for a while.

thequiethero posted:

Here's a story I promised I'd never tell anyone...cos it's pretty much the reason that I'm so hosed up now adays.

About 3 years ago, my parents left me home for the weekend to take care of the house by myself. My grandparents checked during the day, but for some reason, my parent's logic conceived that a 14 year old boy who grew up on video games, fantasy novels, and a way too wild imagination would be just fine and dandy when night fell...Needless to say they were very very wrong...

So here I was, 14, and on the second night out of three by myself. I can't remember exactly what I was up to, but it probably involved me being in the basement playing UO. My UO nights usually turned out to be uneventful, and tonight was no exception. After growing sick of running from reds and getting my rear end kicked (permanent uo newb status), I decided to go upstairs and make some food...Here's where things get weird...

I go upstairs to make some ramen, and I'm hit by the eerie silence that always seems to accompany the nights spent in a house alone by a 14 year old. About 3 minutes into boiling water on the stove I hear this muffled laughing sound from outside. Ok, no big deal...I'll just ignore it and focus on the ramen. "Mmm...delicious ramen, your .35$ of noodly goodness will ease my mind..." The laughing starts again and is cut abrupt by something crashing against the window... I freak out, and after hiding in the corner for a few minutes straightening my head out I tell myself "It's just a bird tqh, don't freak out." So at this point I decide I just need to look outside the window and make sure nothing is wrong...

I am presented with the view that I am very accustomed to: A grassy hill leading down to the lake I live on, moonlight sprinkling across the water, bliss of my childhood years spent here. I tell myself I'm ok, and that there is nothing wrong here. I am just a stupid 14 year old that has read too much Tolkien. I take one more look across the yard to make sure that I can get back to my ramen, and that's when I see something. Behind one of the largest trees in our yard I see a figure glaring at me. I blink...and the person disappears. Panic hits me like a brick and I freak out. After hiding behind our kitchen counter, I begin to feel vulnerable and so I grab the closest two weapons that I could find at the moment: a kitchen knife and broom handle [not gay]. In a rush of adrenaline I run outside to the porch in order to straighten things out. I tell myself I am not afraid and that I will be able to take care of this loving idiot who is playing pranks on me.

A short walk around my house reveals no scary pedophiles or trespassers, and I begin to calm down again. Cursing myself for being so childish, I start to walk back to the porch. I forgot that I'm boiling up ramen, and so I take a quick glance at the kitchen window. My kitchen light flicks off for about 3 seconds and then turns back on. I blink...Did I just see that?

If you have ever had the feeling like someone is in your house and that you now have few options beyond a) facing this poo poo by yourself or b) calling the cops and feeling like an rear end, then you probably know what I was going through. Adrenaline kicks in again, and I know I have to go back inside.

After pacing back and forth for a few more minutes, I decide that now is the time to strike. I rush inside, shout out "I know someone's in here, you better get the gently caress out." and actually believe that I have now frightened any person who has the balls to walk into someone else's house unwelcome.

Slowly making my way from room to room, I turn on every light I can. Clearing out my first floor and the upstairs, I feel worse and worse because I know there is only one place left to check, the only place that I have been avoiding...the basement.

My basement really isn't that threatening...except that it only has one exit and about 4 closets. I open the door to downstairs and flick on the light for the stairs. I make a quick look and start praying to whatever god there is out there that I will see no one. Luckily there was nothing to see, and so I build myself up and prepare to make my way downstairs.

What sucks the worst about my basement is that there is a stair light and a downstairs light. The stair light can be turned on from the top of the stairs, but the downstairs light can only be turned on by forcing yourself to go downstairs facing the darkness. And so with broomstick and knife in hand, I slowly make my way down the stairs. A quick look in the darkness yields no intruders, and so I begin to feel a bit safe...

Finally I hit the bottom of the stairs, and force myself to do the one thing I dread the most...to turn on the light. The room lights up and then I see the thing I will never forget as long as I live.

In the middle of the room is an oversized clown shoe left with the laces undone. Once again, I blink and this time I presented with no clarity. The shoe is still there. A clown shoe. In the middle of my loving basement. At this point I completely lose it. In a rush of tears I sprint upstairs and grab the cordless phone. I run out into the middle of the street and call my grandparents. I tell them that I NEED to be picked up immediately. I don't know if they made out a word I said, but they agreed to come.

The next ten minutes were the longest ten minutes I have ever spent in my life. All I can remember doing is pacing back and forth, broomstick and knife in hand, sobbing and shaking like a baby. I stared at that house for what seemed to be hours, praying to god that some psycho would come out to get me...I needed some loving closure here.

Needless to say, my grandparents showed up and took me to their house. I didn't sleep at all that week, and refused to step foot in that house again. I remember telling my grandparents and later my parents some fabricated story that someone kept knocking on my door and I just freaked out. I don't know if they believed me, as seeing some kid armed to the brim in house-wife gear weeping uncontrollably deserves a better story than the one I gave them...but they never questioned me.

Of course I had to ask my parents if they ever found anything weird in the house, they said "Of course not" and shrugged off the look of bewilderment in my eyes: I was absolutely crushed. I know I didn't imagine that shoe...

Smiling Jack posted:

Right, so a few years ago I get hired for the night shift at a server farm. Sit around, scratch balls, so the company can say they have staff on site 24 hours I day. First day (well, night), the guy showing me around blurts out "Oh, and the place is haunted!". Miles of corridor lit by flickering lights, server rooms with elevated floors, dozens of computers with screen savers so you keep seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, I'll be alone, and now you tell me that the place is haunted? Thanks, you gently caress. I figure the guy is messing with me.

Then I start noticing the office next to mine, which is only used during the day, is showing signs of occupancy. The chair seems to move, the door opens or shuts... one night I went by and the screen saver had turned off- you know, like when you move the mouse. OMGWTF? Back to my office, connect to the motion-sensor cameras... nobody in the building but me. I search for motion over the previous six hours. Nada. I decide to ask what's going on with this haunted story when I see the morning shift.

Anyway, back in the day one of the employees had croaked at his desk. Some blood vessel let loose in his brain, he croaked, the door was closed, and everyone assumed he was hard at work on an all-nighter. They found him the next morning.

I'll call him Jim, because that was his name.

Jim was apparently the OMFG SERVER GOD at this place. All the scripts and half the manuals either reference Jim or have his name in the comments somewhere. But Jim can't let go. He still haunts this place. The morning shift guys say they don't believe in Jim, but the last two night shift guys that worked there believed in Jim.

"Well", I say, "were they friends with Jim?"
I get some funny looks. "No, Jim was dead before they were hired."
"No. Were they friends with his ghost?"
"No. Ghosts aren't real."
Yeah, but you don't work the night shift, rear end in a top hat.

So that night, I'm going by Jim's office. "Hey, Jim! Howzit going?" Work the rest of the night, no problems. I started having half-conversations with Jim. Sports, weather, hot chicks he might want to haunt, server problems, the works. I still see a few signs of Jim-haunting, but it's cool.

So, one night, the servers go apeshit. I totally lied on my resume, this is way over my head. So, I'm on the phone with a few of the day techs trying to figure out what's going on, when the day techs just chill. "Hey- whatever you just did fixed it." Huh? "Yeah, servers seem fine now."

I'm a little freaked. I go down to the server room that's been giving us problems. Humming away. I login to the Unix box. Check the uptime.

It's just been rebooted.

"Thanks, Jim!" I say, but I'm really freaked. Later, the morning shift all show up and start giving me mad props. I say, "No, it was Jim." People look at me really funny.

I installed CS and UT on the computer in his office and gave him a login later the next night.

I didn't give him a e-mail address... frankly, I didn't have the balls.

Serotonin posted:

The hospital I work at has lots of creepy places- its a 100 year old Psychiatric hospital on a very large woodland site, all the wards, and other offices and depratments are in seperate 'villas' dotted around a woodland area- great scenery but creepy as gently caress at night- not just for the supernatural but also because of the patients and dodgy undesirables that tend to congregate around such places.
Anyway my story is what the security guards who work the night shift have told me. Our hospital is in the process of being closed, and many of the buildings are derelict and boarded up. One of the buildings, an old psycho-geriatric ward old people) was being used as the base for the security guards- they had an office and break room there in. A number of security staff had some very nasty experiences late at night there, with chairs moving around on their own, phones ringing that no longer had active phone lines attached to them, and 2 or 3 saw an old man wandering around, who walked down a length of corridor outside there office and then disappeared. A number of them left over it due to their contracts stipulating they had to work nights and they were too frightened to spend time their on their own. In the end they have had to relocate the Security office to an entirely different part of the hospital, due to the Security staff being unhappy being based there.

Hospitals at night are incredibly spooky places.

Coredump fucked around with this message at 04:20 on Oct 27, 2020

# ? Oct 27, 2020 04:15

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# ? May 28, 2024 07:29

busalover: Sep 12, 2020

Not sure where to post this, or if to post it all. This thread seems like a "joke" thread, so maybe it will fly under the radar. It concerns the "lost" episode of Seinfeld.

The episode was supposed to air around season six, but it was mysteriously cut. The �official� story about the episode was that it featured Elaine purchasing a firearm after being mugged, but many elements about this episode were never revealed until recently. NBC Executives refused to officially report on the episode until the Seinfeld season six DVD commentary. I have the tape but as someone who works within NBC, unfortunately I can�t reveal my sources.

I work at the GE building in Rockefeller Plaza, and I have access to their digital archives. That�s as much as I can divulge. We also have the entire original Seinfeld series in multiple formats, including original reels and VHS tapes. I noticed an episode with the production code �607� was missing from the tape set, and it was relocated in a set of old news reels. The replacement episode �The Mom and Pop Store� was filmed a season later to replace the missing episode. It is oddly titled �The Mason�.

The episode starts out as normal, with Jerry�s apartment, but the camera is much more steady. Jerry walks out as though he�s been drugged and remarks that all of his family and friends have been dying lately. His buzzer rings and it�s George. George runs up, half crying and tells Jerry he�s seen something terrible. He�s mumbling and stuttering for about five minutes until he can form a sentence. There are still pauses for humor, but there is no audience or laugh track. George informs Jerry that planes have crashed into the twin towers due to a terrorist attack on New York.

Jerry turns on the news and you can see modern footage of the 9/11 attacks, all pre-filmed several years beforehand. George says that isn't the worst part: Elaine and Kramer were in the towers at the time of the bombing. What proceeds is a graphic and explicit phone call of screaming and crying and Kramer saying that something terrible has happened, and Elaine is dead. Kramer screams there�s no air in the building, and he�s burning to death, and that he�s going to jump.

The camera cuts to live footage of a man falling from the twin towers. George genuinely looks upset and says, �I�m sorry Larry, but I can�t go through with this,� and he tries to walk off the set, but people stop him and push him towards the stage. He walks out Jerry�s prop window and you can hear him calling his agent. There�s a lot of mumbling, and you can see candles being lit behind the stage.

Jerry goes over to the bookcase and pulls it aside, revealing a ceremonial black table with candles, a dinner plate, and a strange box. There is a Masonic symbol against black cloth just outside where the fake stage window would be. Jerry says some weird things in a foreign dialect, and one cut of the camera shows a poster of Barack Obama (This episode originally aired in 1995). The scene ends with Jerry waking up in bed, as though it�s all a nightmare. Kramer comes in and asks if Jerry has seen a lizard. Jerry laughs and says, �We are the lizards,� and the camera zooms slightly. His eyes become slivered, like almonds.

The tape is only seven minutes long, and what proceeds is just twenty minutes of dead air. If you continue watching to the end, it seems there are three more news reports tacked on. The first is about an outbreak of swine flu, the second about a train bombing, and the third...

# ? Oct 28, 2020 11:55

The Something Awful Forums > Main > General Bullshit > I'm going to repost old Goon Ghost stories because I still believe goddammi

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