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I’m not much of a writer/story teller, but I want to contribute to the thread in my own small way. When I was a boy, my best friend’s family had a “family (not) ghost story”. His grandpa used to tell it to us and he claimed it was 100% true. He was an honest man, but I always thought it sounded too much like a crummy movie to be true. Sometimes I think about the story and it gives me the willies even though I am an emotionless person who is dead on the inside. Anyway, this story is about my friend’s grandpa’s brother. I forget his name so let’s call him John. The story starts off during a very bad lightning storm with heavy rainfall. In the rural county (in which I grew up) the big story at the time was that there had recently been a murder. The police still hadn’t found the suspected murderer so people were told not to travel alone and stay indoors at night etc. John however was coming home from work at a late shift when his car broke down next to one of the town’s churches. (I know I know). He decided to run in through the pouring rain to try to call for assistance. He opened the large front door, and there was just darkness. All of the lights were out. He tried the switches, and it was no dice. The storm most likely had knocked the power out. The door was unlocked though, so the pastor must be here. He took a few steps into the nave and called out, but got no response. Being a church and all, there are very large windows, and every time lightning would strike, the room would light up. This of course gave him the creeps, but it seemed that the first few flashes revealed he was alone. He sat down on one of the pews to think. He thought that maybe he should go back out to his car and wait for another car to pass by and provide assistance. As he decided what to do, the lightning flashed again. He thought he saw what appeared to be a figure climbing over the pews. This of course frightened the poo poo out of him. He called out again. No response. He squinted in the low light, trying to see if he saw what he thought he saw. Thunder struck loud and it frightened him. Another flash of lightning. No crawling figure. Had it ducked down on the floor or on the bench seat? Or was there nothing at all? More thunder. More Lightning. This time the figure was there, and even worse, it was much closer and crawling faster. Wind and rain and thunder smashed around him. He wasted no time in sprinting out of the church and back into the storm. John always claimed that he heard the sounds of pursuit behind him as he escaped. I forget how he got away. Perhaps another car picked him up. But I do remember that the police were contacted and they checked out the church. The door had been pried open, but no one was there. Now once again let me state that I am unsure of the truthfulness of this story, and I realize that the way I told it sounds like a 10 year old telling stories on the playground. But I have seen the old church (now abandoned) and this story has been told many times by many of my old friend’s relatives as if it is 100% true. Sorry my writing isn’t very exciting, and sorry that the story isn’t actually paranormal.
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Jun 6, 2015 20:46
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| # ¿ May 13, 2024 16:04 |
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