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Hey, you guys always seem to have the best paranormal experiences and stories to tell about scarey stuff. I'll start with one of own lame experiences. When I lived at home with my parents I always used to wake up in the middle of the night (3:00-4:00 am) and feel really, really floaty. Kind of like when you stand up to fast after sitting down for a while. I would look around and in the corner of my room I would see this hooded figure standing with it's back to me facing the wall. It looked to be about 12ft tall or so. I didn't ever feel scared or threatened by it, just kind of wierded out. The strangest thing was my bedroom ceiling was around 9ft tall. The room seemed kind of distorted like I was looking at it through a fish eye lens or something. Once I moved out this has never happened again. Now it's your turn.
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Apr 3, 2003 20:51
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That's pretty strange that the 12ft tall hooded figure you were seeing in the middle of the night was standing in a 9ft room.
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Apr 3, 2003 20:55
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I lived with my good friend Morley for about a year. When I moved in with her, she was living in a first floor 1 bedroom apartment in the west wing of a U-shaped courtyard apartment. It was pretty creepy there. Some of you might remember my posts from the time. Chairs would move around over night, while we slept. We'd hear voices that sounded like they were coming from inside the apartment, and we often heard footsteps or doors opening and closing quietly in rooms we weren't in. Often, there'd be the sound of a little girl crying... sobbing brokenheartedly. I made preperations to move out as she made preperations to move her boyfriend in. In the process, we moved across the courtyard to a 2nd story, 2 bedroom apartment. No more moving furniture, crying, voices, footsteps, etc. I lived there with them for 3 months and nothing unusual happened. http://www.brigidkeely.com/wordpress
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Apr 3, 2003 20:56
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i was lying in my bed one night half asleep. suddenly something fell from one of my shelfs. i was startled because there wasn't enough room above this object to have fallen forward to the floor. then i got some cheesecake.
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Apr 3, 2003 20:57
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I moved into this house with my parents when I was 17. It was pretty old. The first hosed up thing I noticed about it was the basement. I was old as hell, with a dirt floor and the ceiling hung about 6.5' so it always felt very small and cramped. There was an immediate feeling of dread when you entered. In the several years I lived there, I went down in that basement, maybe, three times. The further back in the basement you went, the worse that feeling got. The house was a wreck when we moved in so my parents were tearing it apart and rennovating it. My dad and I were the only ones home this one day. I was sick so I decided to take a nap while my dad went to get some lumber. At some point I was awoken by a thunderous noise. Like someone slapping a board against the house. There was a shock with it, too. It shook me out of bed. I looked out the window thinking it was my dad doing some work, but when I looked in the drive way his car and trailer were still gone. Another night, around two in the morning we were all awoken by every fire alarm in the house going off at once. We thought there was a fire, but it turned out there wasn't. So we reset the alarms and went back to bed. Minutes later, they were all blaring again. We reset them all, went back to bed and then it happened again. We did this several times that night until we were chasing them around the house. We'd shut one down and another would come back on, we'd shut that one off and another would come on. Eventually we took all the batteries out. There was a barn connected to the house and the loft had yet to be turned into offices. One night, while coming home I pulled into the drive way and saw someone looking out one of the loft windows at me. When I got out of the car, they weren't there anymore. Investigation with a flashlight and baseball bat turned up nothing. After the offices were built, my sister was up there using a computer. She heard papers fluttering around in one of the offices. When she checked it out, she found that a stack of papers on the desk had been thrown around the office. They were everywhere. Every night, around 1:30, you would hear a sound like someone falling down the stairs outside my room. We stood out in the hall one night to hear it and were shocked when the sound definitely seemed to be coming from right in front of us on the stairs. One night, I was alone in the house. I'd just taken my girlfriend home and I was watching a movie in my parent's room. The house was old, like I said, so it made a lot of distinct noises. You could pick them all out. I heard the rusty old knob on the door that led out to the barn turn. I immediately shut the TV off and froze, straining to hear something else. I quietly made my way to my room, which was over the stairs which led down into the kitchen/dining room. I heard the light switch in the dining room come on. It made a loud pop. The light was also definitely on, I could see it. I grabbed the phone and this punch knife that I kept in my dresser and hid in the closet. It wasn't the manliest thing I could have done but I was so scared I was stupid. I hid in there for a long time, trying to hear what was going on outside the door. I heard someone come into my room. The floors were wood so you could hear the footsteps. They went through the papers on my desk, I could hear them shuffling the papers around. The desk was right next to the closet, so I was petrified. I was ready to jump out and stab the hell out of whoever was in my room if they opened the door. They didn't though and eventually left the room. After probably an hour of hiding I got out and did a sweep of the house. The door to the barn was open, the light in the kitchen was on. Both of these were out and closed when I came home my girlfriend's house. Nothing was gone, though. The whole time I was in the closet, I was convinced that someone was robbing the house. There were other times that I thought that I was alone in the house, then I'd hear a door close or footsteps on the wood floor and I'd think it was my mom or someone. When I looked, though, I was still alone in the house. Objects would disappear and reappear in weird places. I would lose my keys and find them in the refirgerator. It was a pretty interesting stay at that house. After a couple of years, the really weird stuff stopped happening, though.
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Apr 3, 2003 21:18
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quote:mr box came out of the closet to say: I know, hence the fish eye lens appearence.
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Apr 3, 2003 21:35
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Find the Cynyc's Ghost Story MP3. Best radio drama ever. "One night... while he was insertin'... a SUPPOSITORY..." "As far as writers go I consider myself to be hands on, the kind of guy who would beat off just to get into the proper mood for an emotionless post-coitus scene."
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Apr 3, 2003 21:45
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Ghosts poo poo and piss in my cats' litter box. I kid you not. There's no way THAT much waste could be produced by two little kitties. I have to scoop out the box like five times for every one time I need to fill the food dish. (P.S. Ghost poo poo tastes just like cat poo poo)
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Apr 3, 2003 22:09
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I woke up in the middle of the night and my grandfather was standing in the doorway of my room, years ago. It was really strange. My grandfather wasn't dead, and he was visiting. However, he wasn't staying at our house that night. He was staying several miles away. I immediately had a sense of fear, so I looked away. I got the courage to turn back around and look, and I realized that I was just being stupid. The image of my "grandfather" was simply created by my lack of nightvision, and a bunch of white paper on my door. So I went back to sleep. Only problem was that when I woke up the next day, there was no white paper anywhere near my door. I swear by this story. ----------------
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Apr 3, 2003 22:17
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BOO!
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Apr 3, 2003 22:17
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quote:Kenspy came out of the closet to say:
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Apr 3, 2003 22:20
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quote:Kaiju came out of the closet to say: More please! You too Shade Fell I remember you had heaps of tales. I'd love to live in Chicago, lots of supernatural poo poo from all the death there -- and one of the best underground hip hop scenes. Now we just need some rappin' ghosties.
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Apr 3, 2003 22:23
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I guess I'll post my saga. It's been a while, and might be fun for those who weren't on the boards while it was happening. I'll try to write it up in STORY FORM so as to be a mildly nice read. This will likely be long as gently caress. The noises started about a month after I moved in. Subtle wouldn't be a good word to describe them. My roommate Erik noticed them first. He'd be home working on his computer in his room at the end of the hall, and he'd hear me walking down the hall to his door. Slow, measured footfalls from boots, echoing on the hardwood floors, coming down the hall from my end of the hallway and stopping right outside his door. I'm sure you already know - I don't need to point out that he was home alone. I started hearing sounds as well. Sometimes the boots in the hallway, sometimes doors closing in other parts of the house. Weird as hell, and kinda freaky, but apparently harmless. Apparently. Erik asked one of the girls who lived there before us if they'd ever noticed anything strange. She knew immediately what he was hinting at. Okay, so - we have a ghost. Cool. It's like a pet you don't need to feed. Aside from wondering if it's watching you have sex or beat off, there wasn't any real problem with it. We figured he lived in the Attic. Our landlord (a dubious fellow known only as "Joe") told us that we were never, EVER, to go up into the attic. Ever. We said sure, with every intention of breaking in there right away. But we're lazy, and have short attention spans, so it just never happened. But we figured that if there's a dead body somewhere, it'd likely be in the attic. A few months later I woke up for work on a Tuesday morning. I felt like poo poo. I'm used to feeling like poo poo in the morning, but felt cheated since I hadn't gone out the night before and went to sleep fairly early. My roommates had been gone for the night, I had the whole place to myself, and enjoyed uninterupted DVD time. It wasn't right - I should feel good. But no. My throat hurt. Not a "I'm getting sick" kind of hurt, it was just sore and ached. I didn't think anything of it, since I'm very active and usually have a plethora of unexplained aches and pains. I got up, threw on some clothes, took a piss, and headed for work. As the morning went on, my throat hurt more. I stopped by a bathroom to check it out. The first thing I noticed was the scratches on my face. I had a large gash running diagonally across my nose. Two more long scratches on the left side of my face, and a couple small nicks on my forehead. I don't have nails, I keep them bitten down to the quick. But still, I figured I must have somehow mangled myself in my sleep. Aparently, I was also choking myself, since there were bruises forming on my throat. Mildly disturbed, I posted a thread about how I must subconsciously hate myself, since this was obviously an attempt to end my joyful existence. During the thread, someone jokingly pointed out how it was obviously a ghost attack. I got chills reading that remark, but laughed it off nonetheless. A friend of mine didn't laugh it off when I tried to explain what happened to my face. She came over with a bundle of sage and burned it in every corner of the house. She instructed us to burn it at least once a month - it supposedly would keep any bad spirits away. Well, the noises stopped after that, so like all clever people, we forgot to burn the sage. A couple months later, I got home from work about the same time as my roommate. We went out to the grocery store together (not gay). As we were coming back into the house, we were hit by this unbelievably horrible stench. It smelt like bad chinese food had been rotting for a week in the sun, possibly with a dead hobo lying nearby. Overpowering. We searched through the house, and could find nothing that could possibly have caused it. We opened the windows, put fans in them facing out. After a couple hours, it had faded completely. Good enough for us. I went out that night. Erik stayed in. I got home at about 2am. House was dark, but I didn't bother turning any lights on. I walked around the house for a few - putting stuff away, getting a snack, etc. Figured Erik was asleep, since he usually yells some obscenity at me when I get home. After about 5 minutes of me walking around, I hear this rather hesitant voice call my name from behind Erik's door. I answer, and then hear furniture being moved away from in back of the door. Erik is a pale kid, but I could see his veins he was so white. What he told me was this: Around midnight, he was on the computer in his room when he hears a scrabbling at his door. My cat Miles does this at times - Kitty Fishing - he'll dive at a door, thrust his paws underneath, and srabble vainly for any treats. So he gets up and opens the door. No cat. He looks around, and finds Miles asleep under the covers in my room. Odd. Back to the computer, shuts the door again. A few minutes later - same thing, this scratching at his door. But it's higher up than a cat could reach. So he ignores it. The scratching gets more... insistant. He's now hell bent on ignoring it. After a bit, it quiets down, and stops... and then he hears the boots treading down the hall. They stop right outside his door. Then knocks. He calls out my name, but hears no reply. Other than the knocking turn into a pounding. BANG BANG BANG! Then silence. This is the point at which Erik moved his bookshelf in front of his door. After hearing this, we burned a whole lot of sage throughout the house. Which once again put a end to the occurrances. ---------------------------- Not done yet though ---------------------------- We kept the sage burning routine for a bit. But I wanted to find out what the gently caress was in the attic. The more I talked about it here on the forums, the more my curiousity was getting to me. I had to know. The most common sounds were the bootfalls. They always seemed to originate from my closet right outside my room and end at Erik's room, which was at the opposite end of the hallway. My closet isn't really a closet - it's actually the stairway leading to the attic. My landlord had put in a door about 6 steps up, and hung a curtain rod to make a very rudimentary closet. Yeah, suspect. I had to know what was up there, and I knew I could break through the locks pretty easily. Erik wanted nothing to do with it. I sure as gently caress wasn't going up there alone! I enlisted the help of a couple friends. So we picked a Sunday afternoon to do it, planning to start at 1 or 2pm, so there'd be plenty of light. Of course, my jackass friends didn't come over until 4pm. It took another hour to get through the lock. We entered the Attic at dusk, armed with knives and swords, lots of sage, and an oven mit. I'm sure I had a reason for the oven mit. We were expecting storage. Boxes, furniture, clothing, etc. It would make sense that the landlord wouldn't want us going through someone else's belongings. The possibility of Pirate Booty was tossed around with hope, I must admit. We didn't really expect to find a corpse, although ...well, yes we did. This is what we found.  Just a chair. A single chair, sitting directly above Erik's room. Sitting right in front of the big window overlooking the neighborhood. Nice view, really. :what: ----------- It's been unusually quiet since. We burned the sage religiously for months. But even though lately we've been slacking off, we haven't heard a peep. No footfalls, no doors closing, nothing. I think I should feel relieved. But all it's doing is arousing my curiosity even more. Meh, that's my story. Props if you read through all that - that was far too much typing for me to review. I just don't like you people Cotisimo fucked around with this message at 14:25 on Sep 2, 2003 |
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Apr 3, 2003 22:51
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A lot of that read like a Sluggy Freelance storyline.
http://www.brigidkeely.com/wordpress
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Apr 3, 2003 22:58
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quote:Cotisimo came out of the closet to say: you win. id poo poo myself if i went up there and found a single chair. that story gave me the jibblies. oh and they guy who told the story about the little house that sits on this huge property with this scary loving tree and chimney needs to report to this thread and retell his stories... Lowtax rated me a 900 hundred
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Apr 3, 2003 22:59
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quote:Cotisimo came out of the closet to say: haha, I remeber that thread...Remember this macro? 
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Apr 3, 2003 23:14
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Cotisimo wins. Those threads were classics. My father is a die-hard skeptic, he refuses to possibly acknowledge the existence of ghosts. Yet he admits to one incident a few months ago, driving down the street in our town called Monk's Walk, which has a reputation for supposed hauntings. It was night, but the street is well-lit. It's also pretty narrow, so you can't speed down there. Anyway, long story short, he hit something. He swore blind that he did. But when he got immediately out of the car to investigate, he didn't find a single goddamn thing. I have to believe it's true, because my father just doesn't lie, but these days he refuses to talk about it, and he refuses to believe in the supernatural, so it'd make absolutely no sense for him to make it up. All in all, pretty odd, and a rather common phenomenon too.
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Apr 3, 2003 23:35
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I vaguely remember one story about someone dreaming in great detail that the farm they were on was burning down/on fire. When they researched its history, they discovered that it had infact burnt down before from a fire, and some of the details from the dream matched what happened.
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Apr 3, 2003 23:40
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I used to volunteer at St. James' Assisted Living Facility. It was a retirement home for old Catholic people. It was really nice, out in the country, and most of these people had family who visited them all the time. There was another volunteer there, my age, and she lived in a really old white farmhouse that was practicly across the street. We used to hang out at her house, listening to music and eating frozen pizza and poo poo. Teenage stuff, you know? Anyway, at night, her house was creepy. I used to keep her company when her mom was out of town on business trips, and at night you could hear the whole house settling and creaking. It sounded remarkably like foot steps and opening and closing doors. Air in the pipes sounded a lot like people whispering. That sort of thing. But there was never anything definate, until her mom decided to finish the basement. It was an old cellar, dirt-floored, with brick canning shelves and a sink and stove for putting up preserves. Really low ceilinged, but liveable. Her ma had a hole cut in the back of the house, for a door to the basement, and they poured a concrete floor and put carpeting down. They put up walls and book shelves and put in comfy furniture and a ping pong table. And that's when the subtle noises became foot steps and doors and whispers and sometimes sobs, all half heard. I mean, it was really obvious when you were half asleep or not paying attention, but if you tried to focus there was nothing there. Eventually, they decided to put in a bathroom down in the basement... just a toilet and sink, nothing fancy. That's when they found the hidden room. The house had been a stop on the Underground Railway. The little room was a hiding place for former slaves heading towards Canada. The man who owned the house used to bundle the slaves (usually women) in his wife's clothing and veils and stuff to disguise their dark skin, stash them in the room, and then somebody else would pick them up at night and take them to safety. One day, he took a big risk with a very pregnant woman. She went into labor in the room and died. They burried her the woods at night, I don't know what happened to the baby. It was pretty creepy finding all that out. After they found the little room, the weird noises stopped. Well, the supernatural ones, anyway. It was still an old and creaky house. http://www.brigidkeely.com/wordpress
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Apr 3, 2003 23:48
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More please!
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Apr 4, 2003 00:07
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quote:Cotisimo came out of the closet to say: Woah dude.
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Apr 4, 2003 00:10
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quote:fuckingtest came out of the closet to say: Yes! Heh, I remember there being a bunch of great macros and photoshops stemming from my pain.... :) quote:Shade Fell came out of the closet to say: drat. I got chills thinking of them discovering the room. I just don't like you people
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Apr 4, 2003 00:24
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bump.
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Apr 4, 2003 01:14
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quote:TaylorTrusty came out of the closet to say: No poo poo. I didn't type for an hour just to have this poo poo die! These are always the best threads. I want to hear the K@rm@'s stories about the bar in chigago he used to work at. Those freaked the hell out of me. C'mon - more stories!! 
I just don't like you people
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Apr 4, 2003 03:22
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I also encourge the posting of more ghost stories. I have none of my own though.
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Apr 4, 2003 04:25
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Well just to add something to the thread, it's not much of a story, but anyway.. There was a really nice old lady who lived downstairs from me when I was young. She gave me a stereo one day, which was nice, since I was thinking about getting one, and it was pretty nice, got good sound and all. A few months later, I started noticing some weird stuff going on with it, like it would change stations by itself to a station with a good song coming on, and turn itself on when I came into the room. This was an old stereo, with a big switch to turn it on and off, and a heavy, weighted dial. I never worried too much about it, even though I'd see the switch flip and the dial turn. I just told it thanks,since it was doing me a favor. It stopped doing things shortly after the old lady died. I have a suspicion it was just hanging out with me while it kept an eye on her, and once she left, it hand no reason to be around anymore. Maybe it was her husband, who knows?
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Apr 4, 2003 04:33
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Posted one of my hosed up nightmares in an earlier thread about this:quote:I just remembered another one I had a while ago. Once again, I typed it up just so you can get the idea:
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Apr 4, 2003 04:45
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i typed this up earlier and figured i'd use it when another ghost story thread came about. and i want more stories like those that were gold mined, so i'll give this a bump with my long, long piece of poo poo 1. When I was 13-14, weird things started happening in my house. Now, when weird things start to happen out of the blue, you kind of have to look for a fire starter. My older sister, apparently having nothing else to do in our lovely little town, had recently travelled out to one of those infamous old abandoned houses with her friends. This house was like it was frozen in time, like the family just up and left it or something (insert lovely story of their demise). A picture of Joe Namath on the kids wall, papers, clothes, furniture, everything was still there. Just plain creepy. Not only that, but you had to go through a graveyard to get there - all kinds of wonderful scary movie crap that you wouldn't believe unless you saw it for yourself. And it was a very freaky looking house since it hadn't been cared for all of these years. Anyway, her being one of those 'cool art school kids', took her artsy black and white pictures and brought those home with her... and maybe something else. Who knows. OOOOH! AAHHH! So, I blamed the following all on her. One night, after my pansy rear end is done watching "Avonlea", I turn the tv off and stare at the ceiling. As usual, I lie there staring at nothing, waiting for the sandman. Close my eyes for a few boring minutes. Open them. Stare. Close them again, hoping to suddenly feel the urge to go to sleep. Nothing. Open my eyes. ENTER THE SANDMAN(dunn dunn dunna). I am now NOT staring at the ceiling, but instead, I am staring at a face. The face is probably a foot and a half away or LESS. It is pale, pale, pale. Stereotypical ghost, I couldn't see through it but it wasn't like a human face. I blink in horror and see it isn't disappearing. My retinas scream at me in their own special way, "ABORT, ABORT". So I do what any horrible pussy would do. I close my eyes. Being the brave lad I am, I quickly pull the covers up as far as I can, hoping my Bichon Freise Poodle (AVONLEA + POODLE=NOT GAY?) sleeping at the end of my twin bed will loving DO SOMETHING. Instead, he sleeps like the obese ball of white fur he is and I either pass out or manifest some sort of ungodly strength and induce sleep on purpose. We'll pretend the later happened Now I'm scared shitless, but I go and tell all my friends my 'cool ghost story'. Couple weeks later, I can't sleep again. I'm not looking for the ghost, cause I'm just not thinking about it, but in the back of my mind I do not want to open my eyes and stare at the ceiling again. I do it anyway. I win the "smart son of a bitch" award. There, floating in front of me is an old face. It was not a horrifying old face, but it looked sort of ANGRY. And that's scary enough. If you are not a very old and decreped looking ghost, being angry is just fine. It seemed to fade, but that was no comfort. Sleep was not as quickly induced this time, but I was not going to move. Once again, eyes snapped shut Various other freaky poo poo ensues and others mention seeing the same thing in the house, but being a skeptic I want proof staring at me a foot and a half away before I believe any of it. Here's where the weird Brady-esque twist comes into play. I could blame it on my sister and her weird ventures into abandonded houses, but about a year later, when I'm moving out of the room, my mom finds my black statue of "King Kamehameha" behind my bookcase. I lost the statue, coincidentally, about a year back...when Mr. Floating Head took up residence in my humble abode. HMMMM. What's stranger is that the head is broken clean off of the statue. My mom's family used to live in Hawaii, which is where they got the statue. My grandparents had it lying around in an old shed and were going to toss it, but instead decided to give it to me. Being a kid, I thought it was cool and I promptly sat it on my bookcase where it stayed for years. SO, I hadn't seen it for a long time and kinda wondered where it was, but was too lazy to look and didn't really care. My mom - having heard my horrible tale and brushing them off as "kid bullshit" - superglued the loving head back on and set the statue back where it was. She said nothing. But I have something to say: DON'T gently caress WITH KAMEHAMEHA, KIDS. I still can't figure that one out to this day 2. On a separate, but more shittingly scary than ever note, I was again sleeping in my room. It's interesting that someone else in that past scary ghost thread mentioned this same type of thing happening to them. I must have been 15 or so, cause it was a while after all of the head sightings, but I know I wasn't too old. Anyhow, I am SOUND ASLEEP, lying on my side. I have no fear of ghostly happenings as it's been long since that happened and the sightings stopped. I am obviously thinking of nothing because I am sleeping like a DEAD BABY. Naturally, ecause I am at peace with the world for once, something has to happen. I hear the ungodliest shriek I have ever heard, DIRECTLY into my left hear. It is almost inhumane in that the intensity just doesn't seem like it could be coming from someone. It didnt trail off, it didn't do anything but abruptly stop. It scared me so badly I was almost in tears. Shocked, "punch in the nose" tears. I could do nothing but cringe as it shrieked. When it was done, (I had apparently grown some balls over the years) I peeked to see what might have done it and saw nothing. I then continued my routine of cowering in fear like a hebitch. It is very hard to explain the sound. The closest I can think of is when you have the tv on really loud and the cable goes out and you only see and hear really loud loving static. A static overtone with just plain good ol' high pitched shrieking. I've never heard anything like it, but can remember exactly what it sounded like if I think about it today. This is far scarier than the face. Some how. 3. Didn't happen in my house, but: I'm younger, I'm at my friends house. He swears it's haunted and I don't believe him cause...why would I? One day I'm over there and we're walking past the front door where two large windows are and I say "Hey, the mail man is coming up to the door, probably has a package." So he opens the door, looks outside. No mailman. "There's no mailman, dude." "Yes there is, I saw him walking by. Blue shirt, blue shorts, the mail bag and all that. He was walking towards your porch or the other house." So, he walks outside and says "no," and I look too, all the way outside, and there is no mailman between the two houses or in the back yard. "Maybe he was going to someone else's house." "Yeah well, where is his car?" He only bothers answering me because I am visibly stunned that this thing I saw as plain as day suddenly disappeared in front of me. So, by now I'm just confused. More importantly, my friend reminded me, our mailmen don't carry those sacks anymore. "Oooh. Yeah." That was weird, but not freaky, and I just thought of it as a novelty. It's easy to do that when it's broad daylight. At some later date when I was sleeping over at his house like kids do, his TV comes on. He had apparently grown accustomed to the nightly noises, but I was not. I asked him about it twice and he told me "It's just the ghost. Go to sleep." I was not interested in finding a blonde mailman watching tv, so I did as told. 4. My dad has a short, but cheery story. He is a no-bullshit kinda guy and has only one other kinda-ghost-story to his name, so I took his word. He's at my grandmother's house (his mom) to keep an eye over it since she's in the hospital. No one is home. My father goes into the bathroom, closes the door, does what he has to do. He then emerges from the bathroom to find an old woman lying on the floor reaching towards him, begging for help. He claims that he quickly ran the gently caress out, which I find rather humorous. Picture a 50 year old man jumping over an old woman who is screaming for help and then quickly making his way out of the area. Laughs aplenty. He's not the type of guy to hallucinate or see things, so it's strange. If you are curious as to why he DIDN'T loving HELP, ask yourself that the next time you come out of your bathroom and there is a frighteningly old woman you don't recognize screaming for help on your floor. Much praise to that "DO YOU poo poo WITH THE DOOR OPEN?" thread 5. And finally, a Ouija board story which is second hand told. Years and years back, my grandmother and her sisters were playing with the ouija board out on some sort of back porch. The Ouija board tells them that one of their children is going to be hurt. Their kids (my dad's siblings and cousins) are inside. The parents don't like this at all and are angry, until a child some how breaks the sliding glass door behind them and cuts the poo poo out of their arm. Mr. Ouija was forsaken after that. Rest of the family vouches on the story and no, they aren't highly religious or anti-Ouija, so I trust them on that one. I'm not really interested in breaking out the ouija after the non-sleep fest it brought upon me out of sheer terror the last time I used it anyway maybe some other day Also, I went to that supposedly haunted 'Whaley house' in san diego and didnt see jack poo poo. what a rip off. It's funny to watch a group of people stand in one position and just stair at furniture, waiting for something to happen though 1050805008 Drunk & Ugly fucked around with this message at 03:17 on Apr 20, 2003 |
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Apr 4, 2003 06:31
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quote:This is from an old thread of mine almost a year ago
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Apr 4, 2003 06:50
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I love scary stories threads. Also,
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Apr 4, 2003 06:52
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When I was a kid, we used to move from house to house alot. We ended up living in about half a dozen places. One of them was a house that hadn't been inhabited in about three decades. It was actually a block away from where we already lived, but this new house had an exercise room lined with cedar, a pool, a sauna, fountain drinks, a den, living room and showroom, a full bar setup, two car garage, the whole nine. And, since no one had lived in it since the late 60's, we got it for a steal (read here: 4000+ sq. foot plus a whole shitload of extras for less than $80,000). We moved in right away, and started doing home repair ourselves (re-tiling, painting, yardwork, sodding, etc.) and almost immediately noticed a few things. 1. Things kept moving around, disappearing, and ending up in odd places. - Pens in planters, soap in windowsills, etc. 2. Slight noises, lights going on and off at different times. - Not flickering, but like on at 10:24pm, off at 10:32pm. 3. Random odd occurances. Turns out the guy who lived in the house 'back in the day' drowned in the pool. He was also a gay alcoholic. You should have seen the red velvet wallpaper. Ohmygod. Anyhoo. Not a big believer in ghost hub-a-baloo, we all thought it was each other pranking at first. That was, until my very large and intimidating dad showed up in the kitchen one morning white as a sheet. He would wake up before all of us and open the blinds, get the paper, etc. That morning, he had gone into the den, and as he passed by the couch, heard the couch creak, a *yawn*, footsteps, and then saw the vertical blinds covering the sliding door part and swing as if someone had passed through them. There were several like occurances over the while we lived in this house, but it was like living with Casper. "Larry (ghost's name), stop making noise!" "Larry, it's 2am! Shut up!" "Larry, open the door, I forgot my key!" And so on. Looking back, whether there was a ghost or not, whatever happened to my Dad was enough to make me believe there was something odd going on. Do I believe there are as many ghosts as everyone says? Hell no. But the occasional ghost-like phenomenon? Sure, why not.
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Apr 4, 2003 06:56
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quote:Drunk & Ugly came out of the closet to say: Well, twice in the past couple of weeks I accidently left a few FYAD windows open, and the exact same thing happened to me a while after I had fallen asleep. :(
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Apr 4, 2003 06:59
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quote:Alucardshark came out of the closet to say: TCC: All Herbal, All the time.
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Apr 4, 2003 07:04
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quote:Kris came out of the closet to say: i shrug alot of stories off as bullshit myself, and now some times when i look back on the 'floating head' thing that happened i wonder if i some how saw it wrong, or if i just thought i saw it. but should a ghost-like face appear in front of you as plain as day right now, it'd be hard to dismiss it. which is why i don't dismiss seeing the same thing twice. i dunno about ghosts or afterlife but it was definitely interesting. i've never mentioned it to anyone since, because i expect people to call bullshit i wish now that i'm a "clear minded adult" something strange like that would happen to me again. would help alot in the way of belief
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Apr 4, 2003 07:08
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I used to live in an old victorian house in San Jose. It was rickety as hell. It swayed in the wind or if anyone walked up the stairs. But I didn't think it had any paranormal happenings. I lived with 5 people at the time. Anyways, I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. It's pitch black, but I know to navigate the hallway in the dark. As I go down the hallway, I bump into someone. I swear it was a person because it was soft. (As opposed to the wall) I say "Oh, sorry about that." No reply. Like an idiot, I continue walking forward instead of letting them pass. This is a pretty narrow hallway. I turn on the bathroom light. I can now see that all the bedroom doors are closed. No sound of doors closing. I apparently bumped into no one. Ok, that was a lame story, but it's all I got from first hand experience.
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Apr 4, 2003 10:37
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quote:karma came out of the closet to say: Thank you. ...gave me loving goosebumps at 8:30am... I just don't like you people
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Apr 4, 2003 14:42
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quote:Alucardshark came out of the closet to say: AAAGHHH DEAR gently caress NO NO NO Hell is just a word.
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Apr 4, 2003 14:47
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This is a great thread! I love ghost stories. I wish I had some of my own to contribute.
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Apr 4, 2003 15:10
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I did an EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) experiment in my basement and got a little girl saying "Come play with me" and "Who are you?" loving clear as crystal, one two different mics. The reason I did this experiment was because of something that happened 4 or 5 years before; EDIT- My basement is furnished, so it is also my room. I just got a new stereo so I decided to goto sleep with just the radio on. The band: Skinny Puppy. The album: Too Dark Park. Well i thought I had heard something, so since there were no lights by me I went to turn on the TV. I always keep my inhaler and the TV remote by my bedside; neither of which was there. I feel something whiz by my ear. I find the remote and turn the Tv on. Its my inhaler; it was thrown at me. That was the 1st time it happened. About 3 weeks later I had a late dinner in my room. I went to sleep with the dishes downstairs. I slept with the TV on at all times since the previous incident. The power went out. I scramble for a light and turned one on only to realize "Duh, the powers out". Then I notice something across the room. It looks like a heatwave or what the Predator looks like when hes got his cloak on; but this had no definate shape, it was just there. I felt something hit the wall so I got flat on my matress and waited for the lights to come back on. They did about 2 minutes later. Now the walls in the basement are concrete, but with a piece of drywall with paneling over it. I found the fork I used that night for dinner stuck into the wall. That was number 2. About a month later, a friend of mine at the time said she thought she saw something in my mirror in the basement. Shes nuts, so I thought she was kidding. I came downstairs and for a split second, like a blink, I saw what looked like a Scottish guy looking out the mirror as if it were like...a door and he was trying to find a way out. I thought I was seeing things and seriously began to question the rightness of the head on my shoulders. Then the final time I saw them. Asleep in the basement. TV goes to static; cable went out. After a while, my TV when it has a blue screen or static turns off. It did. I woke up because the TV turned off. I look over at the other side of the room to see three of those predator/heatwave shapes...but they are very tiny and have definate shape; they are children playing a game of what looks like four corners or something. I said "hello?" and they all stopped playing. I was so loving beyond scared. They started to come at me when they all molded into that big indefinate shape from the prior sighting. Now this part is sketchy...so bear with me. It came at me, and instead of feeling scared...I felt warm, calm, and sleepy. I knew I wasnt going to be hurt. I remember saying "I wont hurt you" and "You are no reason to be afraid of me or to hurt me". I woke up the next morning for school and havent seen them since. But that was 5 years before the EVP experiment... Which means they are probally still in my room but know that im not a threat. I did some research on my house and I found out the 1st owner had a little girl; department of records couldnt tell me if she died there or not. The 3rd owners husbund died in the house, and we are the 4th owners. As much as it scares me sometimes, its so facinating. When people come over and hear something and go "what was that?" im just like " a ghost, i dont know who it is but they live here too". Sister Fister fucked around with this message at 18:23 on Apr 4, 2003 |
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Apr 4, 2003 15:10
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JESUS loving CHRIST. JESUS. I'm sitting here reading this thread, scared shitless, and out of loving nowhere one of my cates hisses at the other promting me to scream and shout at the top of my voice "loving HELL", with my mum in the next room.
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Apr 4, 2003 15:17
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