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Return of the Creepiest thing you've ever seen?

ArthilArthil Registered User regular
edited December 2007 in Debate and/or Discourse
The last thread was most definitely one of my favorites in D&D, so I couldn't let it die. This thread will be like the last, and to quote skimbles: Post the creepiest/scariest things that you've seen or experienced. Please try to limit references to things like Harlequin Fetus and the like -- that isn't really the point of this thread.
I think the minds and well being of both I and the others in the past thread would also like the links to things without proper warning to not come about. If you got a picture of a cat cut in two, label it properly, as in big bold letters, so we don't click it, ever.

I haven't experienced many things that I'd consider creepy, things that some would get sick from looking at don't bother me. The only things that seem to are some of the most basic fears. I've lived in the current house I'm in now for most of my life, and throughout the eighteen or so years I've always had the feeling of being watched. I'm always looking around, swearing that I saw something out of the corner of my eye or even heard someone say my name. There have even been a few cases where I've felt something touch my back or shoulder but there has always been nothing there.
The fact that two people have died in this house, both who were close to me may have something to do with it. Even if it isn't a ghost it might just be my own mind wanting them to still be around. In any case that would have to be the Creepiest of things I've 'seen'. Lets see if anything has happened to all of you since the last thread, shall we?

PSN: Honishimo Steam UPlay: ArthilCwcuLUM.jpg
Arthil on
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Posts

  • Magus`Magus` Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    I'm a big fan of the kind of horror stuff you see in games like Silent Hill, so when a friend told me that there was an abandoned 'haunted' jail, you know I had to hit it.

    Now, this abandoned jail is very much the old style concrete and bars set-up. No computers, the only lights were the kind you have in your house now. Supposedly the back story is that a high number of deaths happened here (inmate to inmate) and after a few years they got 'tired of cleaning the blood off the walls' and just shut it down.

    Furthermore, when they say it was abandoned they weren't kidding. This wasn't a slow pull-out where everything was scrubbed and it was left 'as new' in case they ever wanted to use the place again. From what I'm told everyone just left in a matter of a day or two and many things were left behind. You could actually see this as their were magazines, open soda bottles, toilet paper (!), and all kinds of.. things, just strewn about.

    Anyhow, on to the creepy! This place had 3 'well known' urban legends. One, that at the very bottom of the place there was a 'killing room' in which supposedly was used for lots of firing executions. I didn't believe this as who heard of firing squads on the inside of a jail? The second legend talked about cell 13, which would supposedly drive whomever was put in it to suicide with 100% success rate. The final legend was the one about the graveyard in the back, where they put inmates whose family didn't want to/couldn't pay for a funeral. Supposedly some 'angry spirits' still wafted around the area.

    Me and my friend decide to do the first myth, as we figured we might lose our wits too much if we did the other ones first. So we found the stairs down to the basement. Now, on the bottom floor it was basically a long hall with 3-4 doors on each side. We only opened one and it seemed to be for storage. At the very end of the hall was 'the room'. On the outside it had one of those old-fashioned 'locks' that consist of a long piece of metal and two prongs to put it on, basically barricading the door. The metal was missing, but the prongs were still in there.

    We opened the door with some effort as it was nearly rusted shut. The inside room was dark crimson in colour and smelled *awful*. We couldn't tell if it was blood or rust as there were what we assumed to be 'fumigation' holes in the upper parts of the walls that were dripping water. What wasn't hard to make out where the claw marks on the walls. There weren't a lot, but the ones that were there were fairly deep. (Note: These were all on the ground, which was stone, not metal)

    The smell started to get to us so we decided to leave. As we left we heard a loud sigh, but we both assumed it was from the 'fume holes' and just left as fast as we could. As we started up the stairs we started to hear footsteps that slowly went from a slow thump and then quickly to something that was running. It also was breathing heavily, whatever it was. We ran up the steps and closed the door to the downstairs behind us.

    We decided to go now, but not before just glancing at myth 2 and 3. Luckily (if you can say that) cell 13 was near the exit to the graveyard. We passed by it and shown our light into it and I'm not kidding when I tell you it's like the inside of the cell "ate" the light. Nothing was illuminated at all. Then we heard the sound of a rope being made taut and then it went silent. Quickly, though we heard something.. land. Yeah, we didn't stay to find out what as we ran out of the prison and straight into the graveyard.

    We both basically thought 'fuck the myths' and ran to our car. Both of us swear we heard footsteps again from somewhere deep in the graveyard as we ran, but like hell we were gonna see what was there.

    We drove back to town and haven't spoken about it since. The prison is about an hours drive out of Higginsville in Missouri, for those who want to try and find it. As it doesn't exist on any actual modern road, there is no real address to be given. Ask locals, I guess.

    The saddest thing about all this is now I can't be scared by movies or games anymore. Damn.

    Magus` on
  • 2and2is52and2is5 Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    The Pennhurst State School. Basically it was a long term 'school' where parents could send their mentally handicapped children. Living conditions were awful and the patients were abused. Here's a quote from a patient...
    But I didn't get hit with a broomstick, a broom handle. It was other people got hit. Patients would get hit. These was patients that could not take care of themselves, they couldn't talk for themselves, they was like low function -- they would get hit. I don't know why. Don't ax me -- I don't know what in the world they would hit them up for, the reason. So, I was pretty nervous, being on a punishment ward. That's when I thought that things wasn't right for me. I was very scared, very frightened, very like -- suicidal. Why I was there at Pennhurst? I was going suicidal of myself; take my life. But something said, "You don't want to do that; you got a lot to offer." And I didn't. So I had a lot of frightened, scary moments.

    The campus is now abandoned, but it's pretty popular with people going in at night and taking pictures, some excellent ones here http://www.opacity.us/site30_pennhurst_state_school.htm along with the rest of the story that quote came from.

    Abandoned mental hospitals are creepy, and the stories behind them are even more fucked up.

    2and2is5 on
  • GlaealGlaeal Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Please refrain from posting screamers and shock photos in this thread. They damn near ruined the last one.

    Glaeal on
    Qingu wrote: »
    In fact, there was never any decree by God through the Prophet that they couldn't recieve the priesthood.
    The last nine words of this statement are unnecessary.
  • Magus`Magus` Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    I wish the original one (the one I started) was archived.

    Also, I hope this one sees more activity soon. =/

    Magus` on
  • GlaealGlaeal Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    That would be the one with the original shed story?

    Glaeal on
    Qingu wrote: »
    In fact, there was never any decree by God through the Prophet that they couldn't recieve the priesthood.
    The last nine words of this statement are unnecessary.
  • Magus`Magus` Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    I think so. I'm assuming I was the first as I had not ever seen one before that.

    Been so long, though.

    Magus` on
  • 2and2is52and2is5 Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    There was one a before that. Harelquin fetus dominated.

    2and2is5 on
  • Charlie_Foxtrot2Charlie_Foxtrot2 Registered User
    edited December 2006
    If there was one thing the archieved topic taught me, it was that; you should stay away from abandoned shed or sheds in the middle of the damn forest, because very bad things have happened. And the spirits are very restless.

    Charlie_Foxtrot2 on
    logo%20graf%201.jpg
  • LanzLanz Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    If there was one thing the archieved topic taught me, it was that; you should stay away from abandoned shed or sheds in the middle of the damn forest, because very bad things have happened. And the spirits are very restless.

    does anyone remember the story? I'd love to hear it

    Lanz on
    waNkm4k.jpg?1
  • Charlie_Foxtrot2Charlie_Foxtrot2 Registered User
    edited December 2006
    Lanz wrote:
    If there was one thing the archieved topic taught me, it was that; you should stay away from abandoned shed or sheds in the middle of the damn forest, because very bad things have happened. And the spirits are very restless.

    does anyone remember the story? I'd love to hear it

    You could go here and start reading from the first page.

    Or you could search siliconenhanced post history for the story.

    Charlie_Foxtrot2 on
    logo%20graf%201.jpg
  • randombattlerandombattle Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Glaeal wrote:
    Please refrain from posting screamers and shock photos in this thread. They damn near ruined the last one.

    I agree the last was super awesome when people weren't posting stupid screamers or some similar thing.

    randombattle on
    itsstupidbutidontcare2.gif
    I never asked for this!
  • TalleyrandTalleyrand Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Seems kind of soon to be starting a new thread. How much could have happened in the last two months?

    Well me and a friend are leaving for a two week road trip on Thursday. He's told me that he's going to pick up every single hitchhiker we come across. Maybe that'll get us some interesting stories.

    This I think is just a tad interesting: my sister got really into a charismatic church awhile ago. Towards the end of her stay there she had this older mentor sort of woman. During one of their little psycho-therapy talks she told her about her family. Her mentor-lady listened to everything and responded that she believed a spirit is hanging over us. Naturally being a self-declared and devout botulist I'm a little cynical. But my old family house is pretty strange. There's been streaks where I would do anything than stay there for over a couple hours and when I told a different sister this she agreed entirely with me. It has a sort of energy-eating malaise(sp?) about it, like the miasma in Poe's House of Usher. But being that I really haven't had any experiences that I would call super-natural save one I never know what to think when people tell me that their family dreams visions of the future or has a family ghost or some weird shit like that.

    Talleyrand on
    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
  • CeloisCelois Registered User
    edited December 2006
    When was this Magus? Thats pretty creepy but I imagined it's probably closed off or people have already trashed it up by now. You should go back and take pictures and make a wiki article :D

    Talleyrand, I kinda know how you feel about "energy-draining malaise". My grandma's house, somewhere out in the boonies north of Auburn, CA, has that exact same effect and my entire family notices it. You just sit there and time flies by and you sleep and don't feel like doing ANYTHING. You really feel tired fast. You might be as crazy and hyper as hell but as soon as you walk into the front room and into the living room, you just kinda deaden and fall asleep. My cousin has the hyperest puppy I have ever seen and when they brought that here, it also suffered the same effects.

    I really can't think of much to offer, especially living in a populated county in California where everything is touristized and pretty much new but some of these stories are the creepiest things I've ever seen :(

    Ninja Edit: Do homeless dudes sharing porn magazines in public on a bus with children count as being creepy?

    Celois on
  • AbsoluteZeroAbsoluteZero The new film by Quentin Koopantino Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    AbsoluteZero on
    cs6f034fsffl.jpg
  • aquabataquabat Registered User
    edited December 2006
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    WIN.

    aquabat on
  • MeizMeiz Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Well at least you get to bug him about being a brodad if he ever pisses you off, or if he goes through with it for that matter.

    Meiz on
  • Torso BoyTorso Boy Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    My girlfriend's house used to be a funeral home. You can tell where this is going.

    It's also at the end of a street, which is very bad feng shui. It's also being heavily renovated by her parents. AND her brother, who moved out some time ago, is the kind of person who you can tell is a magnet for bad energy (generally bad luck, anger issues manifesting as a second personality who he has actually named, and who he suspects to be the lingering, furious spirit of his stillborn twin brother, etc). Not to say I'm a new-agey sort, talking about energy and feng shui, but I mean, the guy has definitely got shit going on.

    My girlfriend says she never felt the stuff in the house was necessarily malevolent, but she's seen things. Her brother, on the other hand, had frequent night terrors, and was almost never able to sleep through the night in the house. He said "they"- he wouldn't explain who- would come every night, but only to places that existed in the house's original form. So the only place he could get a full night's sleep was the porch which had been added later. He would see "them" come out, but they couldn't see him.

    My girlfriend has heard voices calling for help, even calling her name. She also occasionally sees a man with a hat in her hallway at night. Anyone who goes down into the furnace room is attacked or trapped inside, etc. (though it should be noted that my girlfriend was with her brother every time she went down, and each of those times, something happened).

    The one that really got to me was my girlfriend, as a small child, woke up one night, wandered into her parents' room, and said, "They came for me again."

    They later found out her brother has seen five of "them" walk into her room.

    So next time I see him I'm gonna try to figure out who "they" are. And I'm tempted as hell to try going into the furnace room. I'm not really one of those ghost hunter types, but I'm really curious.

    What intrigued me the most is the idea of "rules"- such as that they can't see you if you're not in a place that existed when they were alive, or even the ones as basic as them only coming out at night. I wish the study of this kind of thing was more...I dunno, accepted. Just because our science can't explain it doesn't mean there's no science there.

    Torso Boy on
    Rent wrote: »
    So that's what having no idea what you are talking about looks like
  • NagatoNagato Registered User
    edited December 2006
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Oh wow, that is pure gold. With permission, I would love to sig that if it's okay.

    Torso Boy: That is a very interesting story, I have always come to the creepy thread and the embarrassing thread in my times of lurking, always good for late night reading, especially these creepy stories. Anyways, your's is one of the best I have heard, please post more as you find it out ;]

    Well for me, the creepiest thing I have ever seen was when I was much younger and it was the first year living with only one of my parents, thus we were in a much smaller home, however it had a major bonus. There was a small forest right across the street and down the ditch from my house, so after a few months of running around with friends in it, I decide to take a walk in it alone, so I climb passed the ditch and head on in.

    I make it through the mess of small trees and into the little clearing where most people would walk through to avoid branches, now what I saw nearly caused me to puke, it was a animal about the size of a deer, no skin, flies every where and it smelled like hell, and there was a sign that went to the neighboring park's play place that said "No Pet's Allowed".

    I never reported it due to my complete lack of knowledge and sense due to my age, and partially due to my shock, but it was just so bizzare. Seriously Silent Hill-esque material.

    Nagato on
  • Mr PinkMr Pink I got cats for youRegistered User regular
    edited December 2006
    If I have to see that fucking shed again I am leaving. The terror.

    And does anyone remember that story on the other thread about the guy who went to the old house in the woods with his dog? Something about burning it down at the end. I don't know if it was real or not but it was probably my favorite.

    Hell, that thread got me to join the forums in the first place.

    Mr Pink on
  • SamiSami Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Is it safe to say that I'm the only one that sees their request as perfectly reasonable?

    Sami on
    Preacher wrote:
    That's the kicker, not only is our healthcare not cutting mustard we are overpaying for shitty healthcare. We have the olive garden of healthcare.
  • Mr PinkMr Pink I got cats for youRegistered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Sami wrote:
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Is it safe to say that I'm the only one that sees their request as perfectly reasonable?

    Yes.

    Its incest.

    Also: poor kid. I couldn't wish that sort of thing on another human.

    Mr Pink on
  • SamiSami Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Mr Pink wrote:
    Sami wrote:
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Is it safe to say that I'm the only one that sees their request as perfectly reasonable?

    Yes.

    Its incest.

    Also: poor kid. I couldn't wish that sort of thing on another human.

    It's incest for a person to have sex with someone that they have no blood relation to? Ok.

    Look, it's the only way they'll get to have a child with their partner that shares the same genes as them without going through with that expensive new procedure that turns an egg into a sperm or whatever it is.

    I'd go so far to say that unless she's spectactularly awful at parenting, any son that wouldn't donate his man-juice to his mother in that situation is a bad son.

    Sami on
    Preacher wrote:
    That's the kicker, not only is our healthcare not cutting mustard we are overpaying for shitty healthcare. We have the olive garden of healthcare.
  • Mr PinkMr Pink I got cats for youRegistered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Sami wrote:
    Mr Pink wrote:
    Sami wrote:
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Is it safe to say that I'm the only one that sees their request as perfectly reasonable?

    Yes.

    Its incest.

    Also: poor kid. I couldn't wish that sort of thing on another human.

    It's incest for a person to have sex with someone that they have no blood relation to? Ok.

    Whoops, misread the first post. The OTHER one's son, ok. That takes away the incest part.

    Point for you! :)

    I know they are not actually having sex with the guy, but something in the entire situation seems wrong. It just seems like, down the line, it would possibly present some pretty substantial warping of the child.

    If you have any research on that, though, I'd love to read it.

    Mr Pink on
  • SamiSami Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Mr Pink wrote:
    Sami wrote:
    Mr Pink wrote:
    Sami wrote:
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Is it safe to say that I'm the only one that sees their request as perfectly reasonable?

    Yes.

    Its incest.

    Also: poor kid. I couldn't wish that sort of thing on another human.

    It's incest for a person to have sex with someone that they have no blood relation to? Ok.

    Whoops, misread the first post. The OTHER one's son, ok. That takes away the incest part.

    Point for you! :)

    I know they are not actually having sex with the guy, but something in the entire situation seems wrong. It just seems like, down the line, it would possibly present some pretty substantial warping of the child.

    If you have any research on that, though, I'd love to read it.

    I'm not a sociologist, so nah, I don't have any research. I'm of the opinion that it is the person who raises a child that is their parent, not the person who contributed their genetic code. I also beleive that it would be easier to come to terms with your family member being your biological father than some random dude.

    Sami on
    Preacher wrote:
    That's the kicker, not only is our healthcare not cutting mustard we are overpaying for shitty healthcare. We have the olive garden of healthcare.
  • GrimmyTOAGrimmyTOA Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    I'm glad this thread's making a comeback. The last one was wrapped up before I got myself out of lurk-mode and registered.

    I've had a few creepy things happen to me over the course of my life. One that leaps to mind occured as follows:

    I went to a boarding school for high school. It was sort of out in the middle of nowhere, so after school everyone would just kick around and play frisbee, or soccer, or whatever. One day, while playing frisbee, an errant follow-through caught me in the side of the head. My teeth (and the braces I then had) punched most of the way through my cheek and started bleeding all over the place. The school nurse gave me some medicine (which turned out to be a very strong codeine solution) and sent me off with a big bag of cotton balls to soak up the blood with.

    That night, the pain got pretty bad and I decided to take some of the painkiller -- I'd been holding off because I have odd reactions to codeine sometimes. I took a dose, relaxed onto my bed, and tried to go to sleep.

    A few minutes later, I realized that a pile of clothes in the corner of my room was whispering at me. It was telling me to go over to it, and it was imitating my mother. Furthermore, I knew in my soul that if I touched that pile of clothes, it would kill me dead. I was terrified, obviously. Anyone who's had a murderous pile of laundry imitate either of their parents will know how I felt.

    GrimmyTOA on
  • SithDrummerSithDrummer Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    There's at least something slightly unsettling about your technical father being your assumed cousin. Or your mother being in love with your grandmother on your father's side.

    Anyway, posting to say that Magus` has some awesome stories.

    SithDrummer on
    It's an easy game to hate
  • Spilled Milk, Inc.Spilled Milk, Inc. Registered User
    edited December 2006
    Haha, murderous piles of laundry. Oh, drugs.

    Spilled Milk, Inc. on
    Larry's my name, real estate's my game. Rape was another game of mine...
  • Mr PinkMr Pink I got cats for youRegistered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Sami wrote:
    Mr Pink wrote:
    Sami wrote:
    Mr Pink wrote:
    Sami wrote:
    My mom's friend and her lesbian fiance want to have a child. They want to do this by getting one of them impregnated by the sperm of the other's existing son.

    I am pretty creeped out by this.

    Is it safe to say that I'm the only one that sees their request as perfectly reasonable?

    Yes.

    Its incest.

    Also: poor kid. I couldn't wish that sort of thing on another human.

    It's incest for a person to have sex with someone that they have no blood relation to? Ok.

    Whoops, misread the first post. The OTHER one's son, ok. That takes away the incest part.

    Point for you! :)

    I know they are not actually having sex with the guy, but something in the entire situation seems wrong. It just seems like, down the line, it would possibly present some pretty substantial warping of the child.

    If you have any research on that, though, I'd love to read it.

    I'm not a sociologist, so nah, I don't have any research. I'm of the opinion that it is the person who raises a child that is their parent, not the person who contributed their genetic code. I also beleive that it would be easier to come to terms with your family member being your biological father than some random dude.

    I agree with that, I think my problem is more on the reaction that the child might have upon finding out that his one of his mother's children is his father. And you have to admit, if other people in the society found out about it, he would have a tough path ahead of him.

    But I also think we have totally derailed this thread, and we'd better stop before we get into a deep sociological discussion on child development. :)

    So, someon tell a story about a dead body or something.

    Mr Pink on
  • edited December 2006
    When I was driving home once I saw a guy getting beat up in an alley, his face was all bloody.

    When I went to sleep that night I imagined he probably died.

    A few days later I remembered about that guy and investigated through the local news and found that someone in fact did get murdered at that street.

    :-!

    For the Future on
  • FoodFood Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    You guys need to check out this site:

    http://www.infiltration.org/abandoned-roswell.html

    The story I linked to is pretty creepy, but read the other ones also. The ones about getting into spas at exclusive hotels for free are also pretty cool, if not creepy.

    Food on
  • Jeff LebowskiJeff Lebowski Registered User
    edited December 2006
    I've always found the concept of the frontal lobotomy to be extremely disturbing, more so for patients that have it done against one's wishes.

    I recently found an awesome site that catalogs many interesting stories.

    http://www.damninteresting.com Check the section Mysterious for a lot of good reads.

    There is a chilling story of a young, mischevious man who's mother elected to have a lobotomy performed on him to improve his behavior.
    Dr. Freeman's transorbital lobotomy procedure was literally an ice pick hammered through the back of each eye socket into the brain then wiggled in a stirring motion, often taking just a few minutes under local anesthesia. Later a specific surgical implement called a leucotome was developed for lobotomies, but after it broke off inside of the skulls of some patients, it was replaced with a stronger tool called the orbitoclast. This surgery severed the prefrontal cortex from the rest of the brain, sometimes removing the undesirable behavior, but often resulting in unwanted effects on a person's personality and social functioning.

    http://www.damninteresting.com/?p=199#more-199

    Ouch... :?

    Jeff Lebowski on
  • Asura-ValkyrieAsura-Valkyrie Registered User
    edited December 2006
    http://www.wyseguys.com/shittyroomate.asp

    This is one of the funniest/gross/scary stories ever. I know many of you have probably seen this already, But I post for purely nostalgic value and for those people who haven't seen it. But I do believe it to be true,... which is the creepy part about it.

    Also, as far as my scary experience has been, nothing too bad. But there was this one time...

    Imagine, a cold, crisp night with a full moon, in the middle of the woods up on a gravel road. This is the road above our house and leads one way to a logging road and the other, down into the lake area below our house and eventually, to town. About 11 miles. So, yeah, we are in the middle of nowhere and we're the last house on the road.

    We get our drinking water from another neighbors well for our little cabin house. So, we usually have to drive to get it and bring it back. Not tonight. Me and my dad were thirsty and out of water and didn't want to bother the neighbors so late.
    "Get some water from the creek nearby" he says. Fine. I have to go down the road to get there but I'm really thirsty so I do it. I bring a cup with me because we only need so much to last the night.

    I start to head down the road and it's so bright because of the moon, I don't need a flash light. I've lived in the woods all my life and haven't ever been afraid of the dark too much. You get used to it.

    I start walking a while, until I start to hear what sounds like foot steps kinda in step with mine. I stop. And listen.

    crunch, crunch, cru---

    It stops. but only AFTER I stop a couple of seconds before. It sounds close too. But I kinda shrug it off nervously. Probably just a passing deer in the night somewhere. It's brighter than I can ever remember it being tonight. Nothing is on the road with me. I can see far with the moon shining.

    I start off again and go a little bit until I hear it again. Faster this time. A little off step with mine now. I stop instantly. And I can hear it starting to get faster, and LOUDER. Like it was just down the way from me. Then dead silence. I look around and suddenly the shadows from the trees above me and below the road look rather black and omnious. Nothing is there.

    I turn and high tail it back to my house. "Fuck the water!" I haven't done anything like that since.

    Creepy.

    Asura-Valkyrie on
  • curbycurby Registered User
    edited December 2006
    Someone should post that creepy picture with the shed in the forest that people were talking about but I never ended up seeing probably because I didn't read the whole thread.

    curby on
    linktous.gif
  • Asura-ValkyrieAsura-Valkyrie Registered User
    edited December 2006
    curby wrote:
    Someone should post that creepy picture with the shed in the forest that people were talking about but I never ended up seeing probably because I didn't read the whole thread.

    Don't remember who posted these before but I saved them a while back and uploaded them.

    The first night, heading to the shed...
    Shack010.jpg
    busted door, I dare you to go in...
    P3200006.jpg
    Second night back. The night after the first visit. Lots of mist in picture, crystal clear in real time. Door sealed.
    Shack003.jpg
    More mist, closer shot.
    Shack005.jpg
    Close up.
    Shack008.jpg

    Asura-Valkyrie on
  • LanzLanz Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Mr Pink wrote:
    If I have to see that fucking shed again I am leaving. The terror.

    And does anyone remember that story on the other thread about the guy who went to the old house in the woods with his dog? Something about burning it down at the end. I don't know if it was real or not but it was probably my favorite.

    Hell, that thread got me to join the forums in the first place.

    Siliconeenhanced's posts, yeah:
    I remember this thread's predecessor. I told the story about the house where the woman used to lure people in saying she was part of the Underground Railroad, and then murder/torture/sell the slaves back into slavery.

    It had the dog and the ghost getting into a bit of a ruckus.

    Anyway, on that note, anyone remember the Blair Witch Project? Anyone who grew up around that area knows that the woods are just like that shit, with a house coming out of nowhere.

    I used to go for hikes through the woods with an old Army map, a knife, and my dog. He used to go for rabbits, catch them, and bring them back to me alive and kicking, like he didn't know what to do with this fuzzy twitching thing in my mouth. Occasionaly I'd come across him eating one though, but that's neither here nor there. Foxes had a thing for him as well, and we'd always see one up on a ridge or on some rocks, watching us walk past.

    It was following a "trail, unimproved" that I came across this house. It wasn't very surprising at this point to see a house abandoned in the middle of nowhere. The explanation given was that farms would go bust, no one would tend the fields, and the trees would reclaim the plowed fields. Fair enough.

    It was the middle of Autumn, so the trees were in a good lather, falling leaves and everything looking decidedly poetic. I didn't really notice anything until my dog jerked my arm, not because of him running off but because he had froze. He had looked like this a few times before, when someone was trying to break into the house and whenever he saw another male dog who tried to bump chests with him. On point, looking huge and ruffled, which is saying something when he's a rotty/chow mix. I thought maybe he got a hint of coyotes, and then I saw the house.

    What paint it had once faded off ages ago, leaving warped grey side boards. It was a two story farm house, and someone had obviously wanted to keep something inside. With some resistance at first, I moved closer. How do I know the above? Mainly because the wood 2X4s were nailed on the outside of the windows and doors. Okay, I thought, they couldn't do it on the inside, because then they would lock themselves in, right?

    But why would they do it period?

    Something else got my attention. There was a walk around porch roof, and going around back I could see where in one second story window all the boards had been blown out, shattered, along with some of the house itself. While the 2X4s were good and rotted, I could still see where someone had carved something into them, or perhaps clawed at them? I don't know. I do know, like the protagonist in an HP Lovecraft story, I should have probably at this point ran for the woodline, or at least until I had a can of gasoline. Especially after the events in Seaford.

    But I was young, and impetous, and taking matters into my own hands, I went around to the front door again. With a running start, I threw myself through the front door, and into a fucking nightmare.

    The wooden walls were covered with streaks of brown in impressions in the whitewashed wood, which I know realise was blood from fingers being scratched down to the quick. And perhaps white washed is too strong a term. There was white, but someone had taken time to write hex marks in line after line around the house. I could see what I thought was huge spider laying almost out of my line of sight in a doorway. I realised that it was a hand as my brain put things together. Baxter, the dog, had entered with me, growling low in this throat, coming up to my side and never taking more steps than I did. He did not like the hand, and bared his teeth at it in a way more akin to wolves, with that sudden sharp two tone snarl they do.

    The hex lines, basically pentacles about every foot interspersed with crosses, ran into what I want to call the kitchen, with empty cabinets and an old iron stove. Needless to say, a thick curtain of dust covered everything, but there were places were there were less dust. Squatting, I made out footprints, bare human footprints, and ran a finger along the middle of one. Somewhere in the house, something thumped, and there was a giggle. More like in the back of my mind, but Baxter lurched as if he heard it too. I didn't like where this was going, but I continued on, my heart beating in my chest.

    Perhaps I imagined the next rattle, coming from behind me, but I don't think I did. Investigating, I saw that the hand had slid several feet down the wall, further into the room. I could see the dust trails where it had moved, and shook my head. Something was fucking with me, but again, I was too headstrong, too reckless. I also thought my being a paratrooper, and under the auspice of St. Michael had something to do with it - if he could face the down devil, I could explore the domain of some half ass ghost, couldn't I?

    Perhaps! But when a finger fucking twitched, it did not sit well in my stomach. And when I heard, much like I had before, the sound of something beating around upstairs, Baxter getting more and more anxious by the second, I decided to leave. I grabbed my fear by the throat, and walked from the house, through the threshold.

    I don't know if my walking pissed it off or my running only inflamed it further, but when I heard the sound of footsteps coming, I took off for the woodline and the open fields, thinking for some reason it represented safety. Baxter ran beside me, ears back and in a flat out sprint. The wind kicked up behind me and I could smell the rot in the air. The smell of open sewage on a hot day, of a corpse putrefying and wet. The bile rose at the back of my throat and I spit, dodging through trees and leaping over more than one rock. It was riding the wind though, it's footsteps only taunting to heighten the thrill of the chase. How can you outrun the wind?

    You can't. So I turned, ripped the medal from my neck, and shoved it into the wind. I don't remember what I yelled, to be honest. I suspect it was a cry to St. Michael with all of my faith, because there was a white explosion in my head, and my vision was filled with light. The only equivalent I have is when I got caught too close to a flashbang, with the noise slowly filtering back in with my vision.

    Again, the smell of roses and gunpowder on the wind, and something else. You could smell fire on the wind, like your clothes might smell after standing too close to a bonfire. I heard steps again in the leaves, but it was only my dog, looking around curiously, licking the air. After a moment he looked off into the distance, wagged his tail, and then began to turn back. I followed him, looking where he had stared so intently. I saw nothing, but there was a cool breeze suddenly from that direction, and the smells, so apart but seeming so right, were stronger for a second, and then faded out. I walked with my dog out of whatever horror I had wandered into for a second.

    When I got back home, my mother asked me what girl I had been with. She said she could smell me from there, and while I smelled good, I smelled STRONG. She didn't believe I wasn't with a girl, and only said "You don't have to lie, but we can pretend if you're embarassed to tell your mother. Just ask your "friend" what perfume she uses, because I'd like a bottle."

    A deployment later, I returned to the house with the can of gasoline, the dog, and some handwritten prayers. What I found when the house burned to the ground is another story altogether.
    A little over a year later had me driving down the "trail, unimproved" in a jeep, three five gallon jugs of gas in the backseat, a sheet of handwritten prayers tucked into my pocket, and the dog curled up in the backseat. I had left with this, I told my mother the area where I was going to hike, and took off. These were what I hoped, enough to finish what I had started.

    I kept the events of that place to myself, knowing that I had experienced what some might call "a minor miracle" in my faith. I had told the story when I was younger about the first ghost to some people when it came to telling "Oh man this one time..." stories, much like this thread. Things would always get quiet shortly afterwards, and someone would eventually go "That's fucked up" softly, and that was that. Still, I knew the house was there, and unlike in the first case, I didn't know that I had broken whatever presence haunted that house for good.

    I arrived at noon, with the first whispers of an early summer thunderstorm starting to show on the horizon. If this fire got out of hand, I hoped to let nature deal with it, and hauled the three cans out of the jeep, along with a coil of rope, and a shovel. I had my knife in the small of my back, and hefting three cans awkwardly, I walked towards the house, ignoring the sudden sinking feeling in my stomach.

    Where there had once been a good wind moving through the woodline had died when I began walking towards the house with my goods. Baxter's tail was stiff, and his hair was on end again. Everything was literally silent. No birds flew, no trees moved. It felt like high noon at Dodge City, and to ease the tension I blew the first few notes of that song you hear in every spaghetti western.

    Apparently, I hadn't broken shit. Just driven it away from me in a desperate moment, and I couldn't be sure when it might come back. Indeed, as I set the cans down, one of the 2X4s in the second story windows chose that time to pop out, making an empty thunk as it hit the top of the awning. Baxter barked once, and I loosened the St. Mike's medal from inside my shirt, wearing it openly and spreading the contents of the first can around the outside of the house.

    The complete lack of anything serious happening was more frightening, I think, than if it had appeared gibbering and screaming around the corner of the house. I took a note from Ghostbusters, of all things, and tried my damndest not to think about what the hell it could do. When my foot got caught on a root, I let out a scream, thinking that it was coming out of the ground for me. My heart was beating as loudly in my chest as the first time I jumped out of a plane, and I was glad when the first can was completely empty.

    The second can and third can were meant for the inside of the house, and while it was high noon, the light inside seemed less substantial, and the door yawned like a mouth, inviting me inside. Calling the dog to my heels, I marched in, and immediately spread the gas as fast as I could. With my first step a hard stiff wind blew from the direction of the storm front, and the entire house groaned in protest. The hand I had seen the first time had not moved at all, from where I remembered it, but all the same I avoided it. As I went into the kitchen, I took a moment to look around, and noticed on the counter there were fresh footprints on the dust, about infant sized. They dissapeared thanfully under the onslaught of gas, and I had used up over half of the first can when I saw the entryway into the parlor.

    Draped over the windows were large white sheets, each painted with a single pentacle. A hex mark, in other words, designed to keep something in. The darkness was more complete in there, and my bravado failed me when I tried to take the first step in, pouring the gas from the safety of the threshold and letting it leak into the room. Something thumped upstairs, and I felt I didn't have much more time before events went quickly out of hand again. I went back to the center of the kitchen, grabbed the last can, and started spreading that on the hallway walls that led to the upstairs. I was not going up there, I decided, but I didn't count on the small trapdoor in the pantry, leading to what might have been a root cellar.

    Flicking my lighter, I could see that it was covered with steel banded wood, holding down the rusting door. There was no need for a lock, as the boards over the door were bolted into cement around the trapdoor. Nothing was getting out of that. All the same, when I flicked my lighter shut and continued on my crusade something wailed in the dark place under this house, that made my dog howl in response and me drop the gas, spilling it over my boots and jeans. Something down there made the house shake, sending loose chunks of ceiling down on me. It was time to leave.

    I drove my knife though the jug, and tossed it down the hallway, ignoring the persistant thump thump upstairs, like a heart, and ran until I was clear of the pooling gas. Running my lighter along the wall, the gas began to spread, running in blue flames both directions. I was careful to keep the flame away from me, and ran for the door.

    The inside of the house had shielded us from the wind that waited for us outside. The storm had snuck up on us and I was almost thrown back by the wind. Reaching down I picked up the dog, threw him over my shoulder, and walked towards the car, taking shelter behind what trees I could. I turned back towards the house, and the fire was starting to take, licking against the dried and rotted wood. I stood there in the wind that bent the trees almost sideways, and watched as one tongue of flame sent a blue ring around the house.

    Then the smell, the rot and the decay of last time, with something slamming around in the doorway, highlighted by the flames. I felt my fear drain away at that moment, all the anxiety that had been building was gone replaced by a sudden anger. At what, I don't know. Maybe at whatever had caused this to happen, but regardless, Baxter was put on the ground and I drew my knife and took a step forward. I was literally seeing red, going into the berzerker drive that had won me so many fights before.

    "I'm right here motherfucker! I'm not going anywhere!" I screamed over the wind, as if this was just another shit talking dude. The ridiculousness of it all still strikes me today, a guy yelling at the air, brandishing a knife like a retard at something only he can see. Baxter came up next to me, growling low in his throat, eyes deep set in his massive head.

    I wonder why it didn't charge me. Was I just taking out my rage and frustration on the unknown that surrounded this place on a figment of my own mind? Or was it there, and it was just unused to simple human courage, drawing a line in the dirt and saying "Here, and no further". Whatever the reason, it stopped thrashing, and the outline of flames surrounding it dissapeared.

    The red faded from my vision shortly after the first story ceiling caved in, and I walked backwards the entire time, never taking my eyes from the house. I went to the jeep, got in the with the dog, and we had dinner at subway.

    Roast beef with bacon, for both of us, on that cheese bread. It started to rain when we arrived at the Subway, and kept on after we had returned to the smoking embers of the house. I had made a stop on the way back to pick up a flashlight and a crow bar, and with that and the shovel, I shifted the ashes, not finding anything of interest until I got near the trapdoor. Baxter dug it out, a caved in skull that was partially destroyed by the fire, but huge and mishapen. The skull was too large, the eye sockets uneven. I ran a finger around the nose hole and wondered again what had happened here?. After several minutes of work with the pick and crowbar, I had a sort of answer. The faintest smell of corpses rose up to meet me, like a soda can in winter that a mouse died in during the spring.

    There was a skeleton down there, and from the wider set of the hips I assumed it was a woman, with both of her femurs smashed. Several skeletons surrounded her, small infant skeletons. Making several knots in the rope, I tied off the rope to a sturdy looking tree nearby. If worst came to worst I could always chimney my way up, as it was only a ten foot drop. Either way, I had made sure that someone knew where I was if the shit met the fan.

    I crawled down, looking at the skeleton surrounded by three infants with odd skulls and other deformities. I was surrounded by great despair, and shook my head at the waste of it all before carefully shouldering the skeleton and making the climb up with it. My internal revulsion was offset by a need to do the right thing here. So it took me several trips to collect all the bones, longer than it took me to dig the actual graves in the rain soft dirt. I piled stones over each, five graves. One for the mother and her four children, I think, and pulled out my sheet of prayers. I prayed to God, to Saint Michael, and I folded it up and offered my own blessings. Baxter sat quietly and watched throughout it all, and when I was done, he howled low and long.

    I walked from that place filthy and covered in soot and dirt, and my nose was filled with the smell of fire. There was no scent of roses, no smell of gunpowder freshly burnt, but there was a smell of things growing underneath it all that hadn't been present before. That, I think, was all the sign I needed to know we had done the right thing.

    I got in the jeep, and we drove away. I have never taken the supernatural for granted since.

    Lanz on
    waNkm4k.jpg?1
  • PootPoot Registered User
    edited December 2006
  • curbycurby Registered User
    edited December 2006
    shed

    thx

    curby on
    linktous.gif
  • Asura-ValkyrieAsura-Valkyrie Registered User
    edited December 2006
    Siliconeenhanced's posts, yeah:
    Big f-ing scary shit, etc...

    I was very tempted in quoting this one too, as it is truly a gem. But I figured someone would quote it eventually. I don't care if it's real or not, that stuff is scary. :shock:

    Asura-Valkyrie on
  • CherrnCherrn Registered User regular
    edited December 2006
    Ghostgoons warrants a repost. It has a bunch of cool stories, and other assorted creepy stuff. The one called "The Intruder" seriously creeps me out, even if it's just fiction
    The Intruder is a silhouette and similar in shape to a
    Siamese cat. When sitting, it is about 7.5 feet tall.
    It has two overly large, slanted eyes, which glow a
    bright fluorescent green, and have no pupils. It
    blinks these eyes occasionally. Other than the eyes,
    it has no other discernable facial or body features.

    Whenever you enter your home after dark, The Intruder
    is always watching. It sits about 10 feet away from
    you in plain view. It remains immobile and does not
    even try to conceal its presence. While outside, it
    can only be seen by one person at a time. If it were
    to be within the sight range of two people then the
    first person who sees The Intruder would remain being
    able to see it while it would remain completely
    invisible to others.

    It emits no noises of its own. The only time it can be
    heard is when it is stretching its claws on a tree or
    your house siding. If you approach it then it will run
    away very quickly and violently, kicking up dirt and
    rocks. The sounds of the wind from The Intruder’s
    movements and flying debris from under The Intruder’s
    feet can be heard. If you were to throw an object
    toward it or discharge a firearm at it you would get
    the same effect. Once you turn back to the door to
    insert your key you will find that The Intruder has
    noiselessly returned to its previous position where it
    continues to watch you.

    Some say that The Intruder listens to your key hit the
    lock. They say that The Intruder can eventually
    ascertain the shape of your key simply by hearing the
    pins of your lock moving. It is unknown how many times
    The Intruder must hear you unlock your door before it
    can determine the exact shape of your key.

    You see, The Intruder wants to kill you, that is, if
    this creature is even capable of wanting anything.
    Perhaps it is better to say that it intends to kill
    you. However, The Intruder can only kill you inside
    your house, and may not force its way in. Furthermore,
    it cannot enter an empty house. You must already be at
    home in order for it to enter. If you were to run
    outside of your house once The Intruder enters, The
    Intruder will pursue you, drag you back inside, and
    then kill you.

    If you ever hear a key hitting your door in the dead
    of night then it may be The Intruder trying out its
    key that it has made. The Intruder only tries to use
    its keys when it is close to perfecting them, so if
    you do hear it trying to unlock your door then you can
    be certain that it will have a proper working key
    within a few nights. If you enter your house through
    another means, for example a garage or screen door,
    then you may suddenly find it them inoperable from the
    outside, through both remote or attempted physical
    operation of the door. If you attempt to leave your
    door unlocked in order to prevent The Intruder from
    hearing the shape of your key, then you may be
    disappointed to find that the door has been locked by
    the time you arrive at home.

    If you hear a key hit your lock it is advised that you
    turn off all of your lights and attempt to push on the
    door to try and prevent The Intruder from entering,
    although it likely outweighs you. Once The Intruder
    enters your house all light sources above that of a
    candle become blinding to all inhabitants other that
    The Intruder. If you have time to light a candle then
    it is suggested, as this will still allow you to see
    the silhouette without becoming blinded. A very small
    advantage that you may have is that, once inside a
    home, all inhabitants are able to see The Intruder
    simultaneously.

    The Intruder will kill every human inside of the
    house. It will only attack pets if the animal chooses
    to engage The Intruder. Most animals choose not to
    engage The Intruder. The only time that the Intruder
    will make any noise of its own is during a kill
    strike. The Intruder will make a quick hissing sound
    during this strike, and will not make this noise again
    until it claims its next victim. The Intruder has
    never been known to kill anyone without hissing during
    the kill strike. It will usually try to completely
    disable its prey to the point where it cannot move
    before it makes the kill strike. It is thought that
    The Intruder prefers to disable its prey before a kill
    strike because the act of hissing may be the only time
    that it is vulnerable to damage. This is purely
    speculation however.

    Cherrn on
    All creature will die and all the things will be broken. That's the law of samurai.
  • syndalissyndalis Getting Classy On the WallRegistered User, Loves Apple Products regular
    edited December 2006
    I suppose I should post my story again. I'll start looking for it.

    syndalis on
    SW-4158-3990-6116
    Let's play Mario Kart or something...
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