These were posted in SE++ spooky thread, I think. Been listening to em in order. For the most part, they're creeptastic. Kinda bummed not all of em are an hour long though. :P
Thanks for the recommendation DRX... I listened to three of them this evening and I already know getting up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night is going to take a lot of extra motivation.
Are they good? I've never really listened to an audiobook before (except for, like, the Ninja Turtles way back). The voice needs to really sell on the idea that creepy things are happening.
Dark Raven XLaugh hard, run fast,be kindRegistered Userregular
There's a new voice for each ep. Some are better than others, but I've yet to hit a really bad one. A couple of the narrators use weaker mics than others though.
Sometimes the way they present the creepy scenario is so clinical and removed that it has no effect while listening, and it'd only creep you out to remember it later, if that makes any sense? But some just draw you right in and eurgh.
No sound effects, but there is music sometimes. Whole episodes go by without any, and when it does appear you know shit's getting real. If you just want a taster, Eyes and Return are around 25 minutes each, and both standout episodes imo.
So, less spooky, but something mildly horrifying that happened to me Saturday night. Thought ya'll might enjoy it, crossposted to the SE++ thread:
I had just finished shooting stompy robots with PAers on MW:O, logged off, and went and laid down to go to bed. Probably around midnight/1am or so here on the West Coast. I live in a basementish apartment. One end of my place sits on the driveway and is 3/4s underground. The end with my bedroom is only about three feet underground, so while the window is waist high inside, it's about 4 inches off the ground outside. It's a window the cranks open and swings out horizontally, and I have an electric mini/thin AC unit in it. It is almost constantly open because my apartment has no air circulation otherwise.
Now I lay down in my room, and fall to sleep. Some time later I groggily wake up to some sort of mechanical grinding sound. Or at least that's what I thought it was in whatever dream I was having. As my mind clears a bit, I realize it's a fairly loud and angry growling, coming from right outside my window. My very, very open window, about 8 inches from my head. I laid there, pretty damn terrified for a fewseconds listening to this. I was too scared to move or give any real indication that I was there, for the fear that this (what I assumed was a dog) would notice me and decide the flimsy screen was not going to deter him from getting at me. After what I'm guessing were a few minutes, I heard the animal move off and I slowly reached up, and cranked my window shut. Went back to sleep.
Woke up in the morning, kinda laughed about it, thinking I must have been freaking out about nothing or whatever. Fucking silly right? Went to go out jogging. Out the door, quicklike up the stairs, turn the corner...and see the remains of a squirrel scattered all the fuck over the little stone path right next to my window. Whatever the fuck was outside my room last night had torn it to pieces while I was laying there trying not to piss myself in fear and convincing myself that I was just being silly and imagining things. Still don't know what it was. Coulda been a damn schnauzer for all I know, but I still feel very, very glad I did not attract it's attention last night.
A while back I hated where my life was and where my life was going. Now I'm happily engaged, in the best shape I've been in since high school, have a bunch of wild stories and most importantly I enjoy my life! You can check out what I'm up to next at http://coolbyintent.com/blog
Of those two, I'd guess the cat. If it was an owl, there wouldn't have been that much noise. Just a quick crunch, maybe a dying squeak or two, then the owl takes the squirrel somewhere safe to eat.
Of course, I'm not ready to give up on my were dachshund theory just yet.
The growling was most definitely not a house cat. I've never heard, say, a mountain lion growl, but whatever it was sounded large. 50+ pounds if I had to guess. It sounded like my old dog did when a black person would come to our door (my dog was hella racist, not sure why). Just the old "You are 5 seconds away from having your throat ripped out if this person wasn't holding me back" angry growl.
Edit: I mean, the other possibility is @Dhalphir finally figured out where I live and he was stalking me to murder me and steal my internet.
Any dog will sound like that if there's a small enough animal around. My beagle could make a noise that I swear should not have been possible from such a tiny dog.
I have a podcast now. It's about video games and anime!Find it here.
I suppose it could have been my girlfriend. After some squirrels got in and ruined her apartment a few years back she makes a sound that's awfully similar to that whenever a squirrel runs across our yard.
A while back I hated where my life was and where my life was going. Now I'm happily engaged, in the best shape I've been in since high school, have a bunch of wild stories and most importantly I enjoy my life! You can check out what I'm up to next at http://coolbyintent.com/blog
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L Ron HowardThe duckMinnesotaRegistered Userregular
I was lucky enough to grow up close to the beach (Here to be precise) and in the autumn one year I was taking the family dog Obi a black labrador/collie cross for a walk up the coast. It was earlyish in the morning and the sky as usual in England was overcast and grey. As well as the bleak sky there was also a sea fog, which is not uncommon for the time of year. I could see probably about fifty feet before the fog was too thick and it gave the beach a muted peaceful feeling.
To my shame we didn't really walk our dog enough as kids due to our family situation and this lead to him being super excited to be out on the beach, he'd charge around like a lunatic bringing sticks to me to throw and hurling into the sea. Bounding off into the fog ahead of me and then running back past me and out into the mist behind. We walked for about half an hour and I had just decided to head home, I called the dog and he came tearing out of the mist again and then stopped dead. He was stood completely still staring into the fog. I'd stopped walking and was listening intently to try and make out what he was looking at, I could not hear a single sound besides the ocean, nothing.
So chalking it up to dog crazy I took a step forward, the dog barked and I almost lost it, in that quiet eery setting it was like a thunderclap. Then the dog walked across in front of me still staring into the fog as if putting himself between me and whatever he was convinced was there. I had never seen him act like that, he was never aggressive, even when other dogs were to him, my heart was pounding in my chest, for the dog to act like this he must've felt really threatened. Then a stone (a big pebble) came out of the fog and landed a few feet in front of me, the noise of it made the dog start barking and I shouted angrily hoping to hear some footsteps or something retreat on the shingle but there was nothing. Then Obi suddenly relaxed and looked up at me. I stood listening for another few minutes while the dog milled about around me. Then started heading home, the dog walked right by my side the entire way.
I've subsequently decided that it was probably some kids throwing stones around, but the dogs reaction was so strong and out of character that I really have no idea.
----
One summer I was home from University and my Mum and Sister had gone away on holiday. I had to make some money so I stayed home to look after the dog and work. It was a weekend and I had gotten home from my shift waiting at a restaurant late in the evening. I showered and went straight to bed with the dog curled up on the floor beside me. Just as I was drifting off I heard a thump, I opened my eyes, suddenly wide awake and started listening as hard as I could for potential intruders. The dog was still where he had been, so i knew it wasn't him. Then it happened again. THUMP. It was definitely from downstairs towards the back of the house. I got up and for some reason grabbed a tennis racket, (because my mad ninjaracket skills were going to protect me) and it happened again. THUMP. It was a really deep bang that reverberated through the whole house, I cracked my bedroom door open and crept onto the landing, not hearing anything in the house I crept slowly down the stairs.
Our house was fairly small and from the bottom of the stairs you could see all the way through to the dining room window that looked out into the garden, I hated that window at night, we had no curtains on it and as I moved through the dark house towards it all I could imagine was something horrific slamming against that glass. THUMP THUMP. It was in the garden. In the kitchen I grabbed a torch from a draw and unlocked the back door, I took a deep breath and opened the door. The dog chose that moment to barge past me into the garden making me squeal like a little girl. I stepped out into the darkness and there was the loudest bang of all. From the garden gate, which was open and banging in the wind.
These were posted in SE++ spooky thread, I think. Been listening to em in order. For the most part, they're creeptastic. Kinda bummed not all of em are an hour long though. :P
So these are a couple stories my friend's shared with me tonight.
A friend of mine was riding the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) late at night after work. Her car was mostly empty, sitting across from her was a homeless man, and then at the end of the car were 2 really big guys with a girl sitting in between them. The entire ride my friend was really nervous because the girl was staring at her the whole time, she would look down, look back up and the girl was still staring right at her. She starting getting really uneasy since the girl hadn't looked away the entire trip until a few stops before her own, the homeless kind whispered to her and told her she had to get off at the next stop with him or something bad was going to happen. She was pretty skeptical and of course afraid of getting off the train with some random man she didn't know. He was very adamant though and told her she had to get off the train with him or something really bad was going to happen. She decided to just get off, so she gets up and steps off the train while the girl is still staring right at her. The car doors close and the train leaves and she asks the homeless man what happened.
Either way, I had to get up early this morning. I made the mistake of reading that subway story, and then had stay up even later to watch something funny on youtube to feel less awful. Even when I did end up going to bed, everytime I closed my eyes I imagined a dead girls lifeless eyes staring at me.
So thanks!
Edit: The story about the girl being chased by someone, and then a girl ending up being found murdered later in the same area made me sad. I know it was a distressing situation and probably hard to think straight afterwards, but a potentially dangerous and suspicious guy who very likely chased you for a bit, is something you should be notifying the police about, right?
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It's not often I get a chance to relay a creepy story that I've heard.
My youngest sister recently moved to Pensacola, FL, for a new job. She settled in her new apartment, all packed and ready to go.
Two times so far she has received a phone call during 2:00 am. Answering the phone gives her a few seconds of silence, followed by a hanging up. The number both times has come out to 666-6666.
Another night she heard a massive "thunk" in her room, like something super heavy fell. She scoured her apartment to see if anything fell over. A loose mirror, a box, anything. Nothing was found.
The next day she claimed that there was an extra bar of soap directly next to the one she freshly opened earlier in the day. She swears up and down she did not open a second box of soap, nor did she neatly arrange it right next to the one she just opened.
And finally, on her way back from visiting us in Miami, she lost her iPhone 5 charger. She remembered specifically packing it in her bag, and it hasn't turned up on our end either.
I'm waiting to see if she'll keep getting calls from the 666 number.
As ashamed as I am to say it, I'm looking forward to whatever crazy shit might happen to her next. I only have one other friend who swears he has experienced actual paranormal activity in a place he once stayed at.
I grew up in the backwoods of New Hampshire. As a teenager, there wasn't much to do. A lot of our time was spent driving around, smoking pot, listening to music, and usually the night ended at a house party or a bonfire of some sort. One night, three friends and I decided to go check out this abandoned house out in the country. There are plenty of these in New Hampshire. Dilapidated farm houses, old trailers that no one ever moves back into. But this one was different.
The house belonged to a couple who owned a farm. Or it did, before the husband hung himself in the barn. I heard stories of friends who snooped around and said the rope he used was still hanging from the rafters. This might have just been kids exaggerating the details to make their exploits scarier, but I knew several people who confirmed this detail. Unfortunately, by the time my friends and I decided to investigate, the town had demolished the barn.
To get into the house, you needed to skirt this concrete walk that was nearly overgrown by vines and brambles. The front door opened into the kitchen, which still had a table, fridge, and a few appliances. There were still groceries in the fridge, rotting. On the table was a loaf of bread, now petrified. We opened the door to our right, which led down into the basement. None of us had the courage to go down the rickety stairs which were built from plywood and had no railing. The living room was completely empty except for a single rocking chair.
Then we went into the upstairs bedroom. Everything was in the place the widow left it. The bed was made. Her jewelry was placed neatly on the nightstand. In the closet, her dresses still hung, neat and organized. This house had been abandoned for years but you would never know it if you saw this room.
After this, my friends and I left. We were disappointed. We didn't hear any sounds. No one saw any ghosts, or felt what people describe as a "presence." It was just an old house, and we were bored teenagers looking for thrills in some stranger's misery.
The next morning, we learned the house had burned down after we left.
Oh jesus christ this is extra fucking creepy as somebody who has survived the Oceanside Hotel. Fuck this story.
So I have a not very creepy, but paranormal experience to share.
My girlfriend's 17 year old cat Cohn passed away last year. Everyone says this about their pets (even though he wasn't mine) but he was the best cat ever. Very affectionate. Her family always marveled at the connection we had. I'm a dog guy, so it was kind of weird for me too. Now, I'm also deathly allergic to cats so his affection usually made my head congest and eyes bleed out of their sockets... but I really liked him anyway.
I was at home the day he was put down, but didn't find out until much later in the evening. That WHOLE day, I swear I kept seeing a cat shaped shadow darting around my peripheral vision. At first I thought it was maybe my dog scooting about (he tends to do that) but he was nowhere to be seen. Then I thought maybe I was seeing him because he was on my mind due to him being so sick and knowing how much it bothered my GF.
Later when my girlfriend called me in tears to tell me they put him down, I put the pieces together and immediately assumed he had come to visit me.
Weird right? I went over to my girlfriend's house that evening. While speaking with her and her mother, I brought up that I had been seeing Cohn in my periphery and they went white as sheets. Apparently they both had the same experience that day.
Normally, I would shrug this off as my mind playing tricks on me but I had no idea he had died. I only had this experience that same day he passed and it never happened again.
Bah, recounting this story has made me sad all over again.
I grew up in the backwoods of New Hampshire. As a teenager, there wasn't much to do. A lot of our time was spent driving around, smoking pot, listening to music, and usually the night ended at a house party or a bonfire of some sort. One night, three friends and I decided to go check out this abandoned house out in the country. There are plenty of these in New Hampshire. Dilapidated farm houses, old trailers that no one ever moves back into. But this one was different.
The house belonged to a couple who owned a farm. Or it did, before the husband hung himself in the barn. I heard stories of friends who snooped around and said the rope he used was still hanging from the rafters. This might have just been kids exaggerating the details to make their exploits scarier, but I knew several people who confirmed this detail. Unfortunately, by the time my friends and I decided to investigate, the town had demolished the barn.
To get into the house, you needed to skirt this concrete walk that was nearly overgrown by vines and brambles. The front door opened into the kitchen, which still had a table, fridge, and a few appliances. There were still groceries in the fridge, rotting. On the table was a loaf of bread, now petrified. We opened the door to our right, which led down into the basement. None of us had the courage to go down the rickety stairs which were built from plywood and had no railing. The living room was completely empty except for a single rocking chair.
Then we went into the upstairs bedroom. Everything was in the place the widow left it. The bed was made. Her jewelry was placed neatly on the nightstand. In the closet, her dresses still hung, neat and organized. This house had been abandoned for years but you would never know it if you saw this room.
After this, my friends and I left. We were disappointed. We didn't hear any sounds. No one saw any ghosts, or felt what people describe as a "presence." It was just an old house, and we were bored teenagers looking for thrills in some stranger's misery.
The next morning, we learned the house had burned down after we left.
Oh jesus christ this is extra fucking creepy as somebody who has survived the Oceanside Hotel. Fuck this story.
I grew up in the backwoods of New Hampshire. As a teenager, there wasn't much to do. A lot of our time was spent driving around, smoking pot, listening to music, and usually the night ended at a house party or a bonfire of some sort. One night, three friends and I decided to go check out this abandoned house out in the country. There are plenty of these in New Hampshire. Dilapidated farm houses, old trailers that no one ever moves back into. But this one was different.
The house belonged to a couple who owned a farm. Or it did, before the husband hung himself in the barn. I heard stories of friends who snooped around and said the rope he used was still hanging from the rafters. This might have just been kids exaggerating the details to make their exploits scarier, but I knew several people who confirmed this detail. Unfortunately, by the time my friends and I decided to investigate, the town had demolished the barn.
To get into the house, you needed to skirt this concrete walk that was nearly overgrown by vines and brambles. The front door opened into the kitchen, which still had a table, fridge, and a few appliances. There were still groceries in the fridge, rotting. On the table was a loaf of bread, now petrified. We opened the door to our right, which led down into the basement. None of us had the courage to go down the rickety stairs which were built from plywood and had no railing. The living room was completely empty except for a single rocking chair.
Then we went into the upstairs bedroom. Everything was in the place the widow left it. The bed was made. Her jewelry was placed neatly on the nightstand. In the closet, her dresses still hung, neat and organized. This house had been abandoned for years but you would never know it if you saw this room.
After this, my friends and I left. We were disappointed. We didn't hear any sounds. No one saw any ghosts, or felt what people describe as a "presence." It was just an old house, and we were bored teenagers looking for thrills in some stranger's misery.
The next morning, we learned the house had burned down after we left.
Oh jesus christ this is extra fucking creepy as somebody who has survived the Oceanside Hotel. Fuck this story.
What is the Oceanside Hotel?
Pretty sure he's referring to an area that's in Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines. It's pretty creepy... but I can't help but feel that the tension was hyped up by my friends and PAer's forewarning me about that segment.
I grew up in the backwoods of New Hampshire. As a teenager, there wasn't much to do. A lot of our time was spent driving around, smoking pot, listening to music, and usually the night ended at a house party or a bonfire of some sort. One night, three friends and I decided to go check out this abandoned house out in the country. There are plenty of these in New Hampshire. Dilapidated farm houses, old trailers that no one ever moves back into. But this one was different.
The house belonged to a couple who owned a farm. Or it did, before the husband hung himself in the barn. I heard stories of friends who snooped around and said the rope he used was still hanging from the rafters. This might have just been kids exaggerating the details to make their exploits scarier, but I knew several people who confirmed this detail. Unfortunately, by the time my friends and I decided to investigate, the town had demolished the barn.
To get into the house, you needed to skirt this concrete walk that was nearly overgrown by vines and brambles. The front door opened into the kitchen, which still had a table, fridge, and a few appliances. There were still groceries in the fridge, rotting. On the table was a loaf of bread, now petrified. We opened the door to our right, which led down into the basement. None of us had the courage to go down the rickety stairs which were built from plywood and had no railing. The living room was completely empty except for a single rocking chair.
Then we went into the upstairs bedroom. Everything was in the place the widow left it. The bed was made. Her jewelry was placed neatly on the nightstand. In the closet, her dresses still hung, neat and organized. This house had been abandoned for years but you would never know it if you saw this room.
After this, my friends and I left. We were disappointed. We didn't hear any sounds. No one saw any ghosts, or felt what people describe as a "presence." It was just an old house, and we were bored teenagers looking for thrills in some stranger's misery.
The next morning, we learned the house had burned down after we left.
Oh jesus christ this is extra fucking creepy as somebody who has survived the Oceanside Hotel. Fuck this story.
What is the Oceanside Hotel?
Pretty sure he's referring to an area that's in Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines. It's pretty creepy... but I can't help but feel that the tension was hyped up by my friends and PAer's forewarning me about that segment.
Turns out the "666" number listing is a new internet prank that's been going around, according to my other sister. Some website allows people to make calls using whatever number they want as the listed caller. In her case she's gotten "666" and "555".
Still doesn't explain the other stuff, but for now the story seems hardly as creepy.
It's not often I get a chance to relay a creepy story that I've heard.
My youngest sister recently moved to Pensacola, FL, for a new job. She settled in her new apartment, all packed and ready to go.
Two times so far she has received a phone call during 2:00 am. Answering the phone gives her a few seconds of silence, followed by a hanging up. The number both times has come out to 666-6666.
Another night she heard a massive "thunk" in her room, like something super heavy fell. She scoured her apartment to see if anything fell over. A loose mirror, a box, anything. Nothing was found.
The next day she claimed that there was an extra bar of soap directly next to the one she freshly opened earlier in the day. She swears up and down she did not open a second box of soap, nor did she neatly arrange it right next to the one she just opened.
And finally, on her way back from visiting us in Miami, she lost her iPhone 5 charger. She remembered specifically packing it in her bag, and it hasn't turned up on our end either.
I'm waiting to see if she'll keep getting calls from the 666 number.
As ashamed as I am to say it, I'm looking forward to whatever crazy shit might happen to her next. I only have one other friend who swears he has experienced actual paranormal activity in a place he once stayed at.
If I were a poltergeist, I'd stupid shit like this. Like not terrorize folks, just leave extra bars of soap in the tub, turn the toaster to the highest setting, put the wrong month on the calendar.
Harmless things and mild annoyances.
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JacobyOHHHHH IT’S A SNAKECreature - SnakeRegistered Userregular
It's not often I get a chance to relay a creepy story that I've heard.
My youngest sister recently moved to Pensacola, FL, for a new job. She settled in her new apartment, all packed and ready to go.
Two times so far she has received a phone call during 2:00 am. Answering the phone gives her a few seconds of silence, followed by a hanging up. The number both times has come out to 666-6666.
Another night she heard a massive "thunk" in her room, like something super heavy fell. She scoured her apartment to see if anything fell over. A loose mirror, a box, anything. Nothing was found.
The next day she claimed that there was an extra bar of soap directly next to the one she freshly opened earlier in the day. She swears up and down she did not open a second box of soap, nor did she neatly arrange it right next to the one she just opened.
And finally, on her way back from visiting us in Miami, she lost her iPhone 5 charger. She remembered specifically packing it in her bag, and it hasn't turned up on our end either.
I'm waiting to see if she'll keep getting calls from the 666 number.
As ashamed as I am to say it, I'm looking forward to whatever crazy shit might happen to her next. I only have one other friend who swears he has experienced actual paranormal activity in a place he once stayed at.
If I were a poltergeist, I'd stupid shit like this. Like not terrorize folks, just leave extra bars of soap in the tub, turn the toaster to the highest setting, put the wrong month on the calendar.
Harmless things and mild annoyances.
So you're the one who's been creeping my wife out!
It's not often I get a chance to relay a creepy story that I've heard.
My youngest sister recently moved to Pensacola, FL, for a new job. She settled in her new apartment, all packed and ready to go.
Two times so far she has received a phone call during 2:00 am. Answering the phone gives her a few seconds of silence, followed by a hanging up. The number both times has come out to 666-6666.
Another night she heard a massive "thunk" in her room, like something super heavy fell. She scoured her apartment to see if anything fell over. A loose mirror, a box, anything. Nothing was found.
The next day she claimed that there was an extra bar of soap directly next to the one she freshly opened earlier in the day. She swears up and down she did not open a second box of soap, nor did she neatly arrange it right next to the one she just opened.
And finally, on her way back from visiting us in Miami, she lost her iPhone 5 charger. She remembered specifically packing it in her bag, and it hasn't turned up on our end either.
I'm waiting to see if she'll keep getting calls from the 666 number.
As ashamed as I am to say it, I'm looking forward to whatever crazy shit might happen to her next. I only have one other friend who swears he has experienced actual paranormal activity in a place he once stayed at.
If I were a poltergeist, I'd stupid shit like this. Like not terrorize folks, just leave extra bars of soap in the tub, turn the toaster to the highest setting, put the wrong month on the calendar.
a long time ago a dude named Syndalis posted this awesome story in one of the creepy threads about working on the Pine Ridge indian reservation.
it was this story about a shadow figure that chased people, the grandmother spirit of the land called the 'wanuki' or something.
if anyone knows what im talkin about post it or pm the story to me if you can thx
I begin my sojourn west. With my car packed to the gills with clothes, books, and a Pentium 2 400 PC, I make my way to South Dakota. I stop at friends' places in Tennessee, Missouri, Oklahoma and Nebraska... and take about three weeks getting there. Many of these people were elders, who offered me advice (and warnings) about the choice I was making... but I felt like I knew what i was doing and where I was going (for once), so I kept on plowing ahead.
I arrived at Pine Ridge, where i would be spending the next six months of my life. I gave floyd a box full of food (stew meat, noodles, coffee, vegetables, etc.), a little bit of rent money from the stuff I sold before hitting the road, and got to crash in a trailer outside. This began Floyd's "Dickhead School." I have talked to people who went through what I went through out there (I am not the first or the last who has gone through this), and the closest comparison is a boot camp of sorts. Pine Ridge is the poorest county in the USA. It's practically a 3rd world country. 85% of the population is unemployed, 1 in 3 adults have diabetes from the commodity food that the government is giving them to sustain themselves, and hardly any companies want to set up on the rez to give these people jobs. Gang violence flourishes and breeds there, born of governmental interference in the 70s and played out now by the children of the two sides who fought each other(If you have ever seen Val Kilmer's Thunderheart... you know the story. Everything but the Plutonium in that story is true).
There are neighborhoods where you can go at night, and those you cannot. There are places where if you park your car, it will be lit on fire and have all its windows broken. There are brutal beatings, gunfights, and murder... and the feds don't care, because its "just another Indian." I was the only white guy in Pine Ridge Village, and one of about fifty in a population of 35,000 or so in the county.
The home where I was living was less then 1/2 a mile from a BIA headquarters that was forcibly removed from the government some six months previous. for the first month or so of my living there, I had an indian sniper on the roof put a bead on me as I drove by. It wasn't until they was told where I was living that they cut it out.
Floyd is a hard teacher. He has alot of knowledge under his belt... but he also can be frightening at times. He is very connected with his spirituality, and this connection is prevalent throughout everything he does(whether you believe in spirits or not is something I will avoid altogether; everyone is entitled to their own beliefs... needless to say, mine were challenged out there, and I will tell all parts of the story as best as I can remember them). He has me mend fences, take care of and feed his horses, and type stuff up for him. He also has me help build fires for the sweat lodges, and teaches me some of the songs.
It was about three weeks into living there that Sonny (his son) and I were sent on a mission to deliver Wakpomoni District Meeting Minutes to the residents of the district. It was then that I encountered one of my most mind bending and frightening experiences ever.
Floyd's son Sonny and myself got into the F-350 pickup truck, and started delivering the minutes to the various residents of the Wakpamni district.
It was becoming dusk, and we were driving up the hill to Uncle Toughie's house. It had rained pretty heavy the past few days, and all the back roads in that county are dirt, so this turned out to be a recipe for disaster. The truck hit a mud hole, and sunk in to the bottom of the doors. for those of you who know the 350, thats REALLY FUCKING DEEP. Nothing we could do would get the truck out, so Sonny elected to run to Uncle Toughie's house and see if he would bring his tractor down to help us out of the mud hole. I stayed by the car, because cars on the rez that are left alone have the tendency to be vandalized, then lit on fire.
So i sat there alone for about 15 minutes. Around that time, it was beginning to really darken outside. I heard Sonny yell as he appeared on the top of nearby hill, and said "SLIDE OVER, KELLY!" So i did, and he dove into the driver side seat. He cranked up the truck, and started running the vehicle as hard as he could trying to get out. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that we had to leave now... that there were Wanuki here. I asked what Wanuki meant... and he said that it meant spirits.
I got out of the truck and tried pushing from the front... my legs sunk into the mud hole up to about 1/2 way up the thigh.
Sonny got out, and said that there was a house holding lodge (its a native ceremony) near Uncle Toughies that he didn't want to disturb earlier, but now didn't care if he did or didn't. He asked me if I wanted to come along. I said sure, took two HEAVY steps forward, and had the shoes sucked off of my feet.
I asked him to wait for me, but he took off. I leaned into the mudhole, painting my chest and face with some mud, grabbed my shoes, and walked out of the mud and onto the hill. I put my nasty shoes on, then crested the hill.
standing about ten feet away from me way a shadow. that is the easiest way to describe it, as it was pitch black, two dimensional, maybe eight feet tall and man shaped... but the shadow was being cast onto the empty air. It stood detached from its surroundings, and was impossible to see through or make any detail of. I suddenly grew very cold. I watched as there was movement around the area of the head, as if it were shifting its gaze... and I bolted back to the truck. I dove in, turned the lights on, and prayed for the next 20-30 minutes. I heard sloshing noises around the truck, as if something was pacing around the vehicle... but i saw nothing there... even when the sounds passed in front of the headlights.
After this hellish wait... another pickup arrived. Sonny got out of the passenger seat, and a woman got out of the driver's. She hooked a chain to my hitch, and pulled the truck out of the mud hole.
After we hit the road, sonny turned to me and told me what happened. He said that he arrived at Uncle Toughie's house and he wasn't home. He also saw a family in the middle of lodge and didn't want to disturb them... so he ran back tot he truck. As he was running, he saw something running beside him out of the corner of his eye. He said, "hey there, Kelly," but got no response. So he turned to look, and there was an eight foot tall, inky black being running right beside him. He freaked out and ran to the car as fast as he could, twisting his ankle in a prairie dog hole on the way.
He explained that he wasn't bothered on his second trip to get help... thats when i told him what happened to me. We drove back to Floyd's house, and explained to him what had happened. He told us that when he was 12, some 50-60 years ago, he was riding one of his horses on the field at the top of the hill we were at, and watched as a black being, about eight feet tall, started running towards him. He watched as it passed through the fence as if the fence were not there. His horse bucked and almost threw him off, but he managed to ride away.
He explained that the spirit was a "grandmother" of the property... something that has remained there for generations, defending... something. No one knew; it was a mystery. But whenever she shows up, it usually meant death was near.
I was told to go back out there and prepare a spirit plate for her, during the day... I planned to do that, but needed sleep... my foundations were shaken. I broke down in tears in my trailer that night, hugging my pillow for some kind of comfort. I had no idea what was going on; I was completely disconnected from everyone I knew, I felt isolated in ways I didn't think were possible, and I encountered something that I would have not put any belief in some four hours before.
I've got a story. I can't tell you if it's supernatural or some kind of bizzare temporary break in my sanity. Either way, it scared the shit out of me.
It was the wee hours of the morning and I was walking home from a friend's house. We'd just gotten through the weekly game night and since I lived in the nighborhood, I walked home. It was a tradition I did every week. The town I was living in at the time was small and boring enough that at 2 AM, no one was up. Not a soul. I remember the air being brisk. Given that we were midway through the spring months, even at that time it wasn't cold, not really. My foot falls were all I heard as a walked along one side of the town's main street, my hands thrust into the pockets of my coat, my mind on the events of our game.
Crossing the street, I came to a crossroads that faced me every time I made this trek. There were three paths that could take me home: I could keep following the road, turning off into side roads after a time and make it to my house, but it took significantly longer. I could cut through the parking lot of the local Middle School, follow the dirt path to the back of their baseball field and slip through a gap in the back of the chain link fence, this dropped me off on my street and it was a short walk home from there. Lastly, there was a path between the two, one that only people who had been children that grew up in this neighborhood knew about. It was a massively overgrown forest path running parallel to the Middle School for most of it's length, hedged off by a chain link fence from the school. That came out in a field directly next to my house. This last one was the quickest path, but was scary as shit. Being a straight shot, any time I used it at night, I'd close my eyes and just push through as quickly as I could, my hands up to block any possible low hanging branches.
On this night, I decided I wasn't quite that brave, but I was eager enough to get out of the night that I chose the happy medium. Decided I'd go with the Middle School short cut. That seemed sensible enough at the time, but it would hardly help me. As I walked down the open field, I could smell dew forming on the grass and hear/feel the large grain sand from the baseball dimond under my shoes. Then, I got a spike of an intensely weird feeling. It's a feeling I get when genuinely "supernatural" things happen to me. Hard to describe if you haven't felt it, it's not painful so much as just weird. Like how I always imagined Spider-Man's spider sense feeling. I often describe it as feeling like a finger pressing on the inside of my skull, pushing out. Usually, it's just a mild sense of preassure, but tonight my Spider Sense was going crazy.
Slowly, my eyes were drawn to a mound of sand that had built up at the edge of the field, where there was a word written in such clear script it couldn't have been scratched in with a finger or a stick. I wish I could tell you what the word was, but for reasons that will soon become apparent, I've since purposefully forgotten it. I just remember that it wasn't an english word. For the purposes of the story, let's say it was, "Moratu".
I looked down, saw the world and quitely remark to myself, "Huh, 'Moratu.'"
From the forest path a good dozen two feet away I hear, "...atu."
Another voice, whispered just a half second behind my own. I freeze, my eyes locked on a gap in the wall of brush where the voice seemed to come from. There was nothing but a patch of midnight filling the hole, darkness, silence and stillness.
I might have shouted, "Hello?"
You always yell at people on your TV screen when they do shit like that, but I swear, every time I think that I'm alone and then suddenly sense something Other near me, I do the same thing as the idiot on TV. Guess it's not so rediculous after all. Whether I shouted or not, there were no further words rising from the woods, just a sense of something around me shifting subtly, like vertigo almost. I gathered my resolve and started putting one foot in front of the other, eager to get home as my Weird Sense was going completely apeshit. The trees beside and ahead of me stretched and grew, towering and black. The moon grew until it was HUGE. Imagine the final day in Majora's Mask without the face. It was giant and glowing with yellowish white light. The world was melting into something that felt like illustrations from fairy tales. The houses that I knew should be surrounding me as I made it into my neighborhood weren't there, just deeper woods.
In time, I came to the mouth of a cave, shadows writhing in the dark. All around me in these black woods that shouldn't be there, I could hear and feel things moving, seemingly toying with me. There seemed no way to go but toward the cave. I drew closer to the mouth of the cave, the moving shapes that I could now see were humanoid stopped, turned and stared right out at me.
It was just then with a sudden shock that the illusion broke. The mouth of the cave was again the window of a truck, the figures staring out were two young lovers who'd gone out the the truck to make out. I must've scared the shit out of them. Embarassed as I realized what was happening, I quickly ran away, looping back around to my house. As I walked past the mouth of the forest path, I crossed the street to keep as much asphalt between myself and that place as possible. There was just the faintest sound of teasing laughter as I sprinted the last few yards to my front door. I threw open the front door, tore off my clothes and dived straight into bed.
I've never seen a word like that again, never heard or saw anything in those particular woods, even when I walked the path. Even at night. Hell, I'm a curious sort and not always that smart when it comes to my own survial. I wanted to know if it was all in my head or if there was something there that night. The only thing that remains of the encounter is that for several months afterward, when looking in the mirror, I'd feel compelled to speak the word again, just to see if anything would happen. I was always too afraid. I'd press my tounge into the back of my teeth until I could tear myself away. With time and effort, I've managed to forget enough of the sylables in the word that if it is dangerous, I'm not going to be emperiled by my own rampant curiosity.
It sounds made up and if I read this written by someone else I'm sure I wouldn't believe it, but like I said at the beginning I don't know if this is just some strange temporary lapse of sanity or an encounter with something truly otherworldly. Reguardless, I swear that this is not fiction. I've always been a weirdness magnet, but this was by far the worst of all the strange things that have ever happened to me.
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This is just a weird thing, and not something I ascribe much importance to...but my family thinks they have "premonitions". My mom and grandmother both believe they can get a feeling before something important happens. I've been called up out of the blue by both of them to see if everything was "ok", to hear them say they just had a feeling. I've had many conversations about this with them where I try to explain that the idea of them having some super powers where they can sense the future doesn't make any sense.
So, my grandfather died on MLK Day a couple of weeks ago. The day before, I had a conversation with my wife over dinner about what would happen if my grandfather died, how would my grandmother deal with it, etc. My grandfather was certainly old, but in good enough shape. He and my grandmother still lived at home and were able to take care of themselves and do most chores. He shoveled the driveway the day before, and even completed the crossword puzzle before he passed away. It was a very sudden death as he had no health problems and we had seen him healthy over Christmas.
I guess I've just found it strange that I felt compelled to have a conversation on something such as his death and how we all would handle it, when it wasn't imminent, only to have it happen in a little over 12 hours. Especially since my mother and grandmother both claim to possess the kind of gift that would foresee something like that. In fact, when we finally arrived at my grandmother's house, basically the first thing my mom said to my grandmother was "did you have a premonition?" I haven't mentioned that I had a conversation about his death the day before he passed away to any of my family, but my wife and I certainly thought it interesting. I put it down to coincidence, but there's just that 1% confirmation bias part of my brain that sees it as something more than coincidence.
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Descendant XSkyrim is my god now.Outpost 31Registered Userregular
WOO! I love this thread! And I have something to add to it!
Last winter we had a bit of a frightening occurrence at the X household. My wife was sleeping on the couch due to my snoring, and woke up at 2 in the morning to find that the front door was open.
To provide some context, the house is quite old for the area, about 65 years old, but is well kept and not at all creaky or creepy. The front door is on the right side of the house with the living room to the immediate left upon entry, which explains how my wife was able to see that the door was open when she woke.
So my wife got up to have a look. Two of our three cats were looking out of the door into the cold night, the third wasn't aware that the door was open, which was lucky because she probably would have gotten out. My wife could see no sign of force, so she closed the door, locked it, and set our heavy cat tree in front of it. I changed the lock and knob the next evening.
I figure that the door hadn't latched properly and opened on it's own - the lock on the door was old and upon inspection it was evident that the internals were damaged - but it was still pretty creepy.
Garry: I know you gentlemen have been through a lot, but when you find the time I'd rather not spend the rest of the winter TIED TO THIS FUCKING COUCH!
I don't have many truly creepy stories...aside from heights and a few confrontations / fights, there isn't much in my life that has really freaked me out. Aside from one time when I was about fourteen.
I grew up out in the boonies in south east Michigan, technically metro Detroit. We lived on a dirt road, with neighbors about every half mile or so - mostly farmer's fields and woods. About a half mile down our road, there was a bridge over a small river and then woods on one side, fields on the other and no houses for about a mile on this stretch of road.
One persistent rumor that would come up in the area was that there was a panther / cougar roaming around. Every six months or so, someone would see something way out in a field and report they saw a cougar. The few times there were videos / pictures (it was mid-90's) it looked more like a big black dog.
Anyway, one summer day before I started my freshman year of high school, I woke up because our dogs were going crazy and saw a bunch of people out on the other side of the creek / strand of trees next to my parent's house. There was a news crew, a few of the neighbors the next road over, and a few other people I didn't know. so of course I went over to investigate. One of our neighbors thought they saw the supposed cougar roaming the field behind our house / our creek and reported it to the news, so being a slow news day they sent someone out. Another neighbor had black great danes, so I just figured that one of them got out and was running around. The reporters took some pictures, shot a little film, and that was about it...sadly, the most exciting thing that had happened in a while.
That evening I went out for a run. On my way back, I was coming up on the woods / bridge and about a mile from home. I didn't see or hear anything, but all of a sudden I got the feeling that my body had just dumped a shitload of adrenaline into my system. My heart was racing, and I looked around, but it was getting pretty dark and I couldn't see anything. I don't think I've ever felt more uneasy or terrified in my life, it was like my whole body signaled 'danger' at once.
I took off running harder, and as I came up to the bridge I just kept feeling like something was wrong and I needed to run faster and faster. I kept looking behind me but it was dark and I couldn't see or hear anything, and just ran home as hard and fast as I could. I ran so hard that I threw up and didn't lose a step, I don't think I've ever ran that fast in my life. When I got home, after I caught my breath, I turned on all of our outside lights but couldn't see anything out there. My parents asked if I was ok, and I just told them I had a hard run.
The next few days I was busy and stayed inside because of rain, but I went over to one of my friend's (the one with great danes) houses to play Genesis. As soon as I got over there, he started talking about the cougar, and told me that the day after it was on the news, he was fishing at the river and saw a bunch of big footprints - big footprints that he didn't think were from a dog - in the mud by the woods and river. Right along where I had felt - something - some warning, something telling me I was in danger.
To this day, I don't know if it was just my paranoia combined with it being dark, or if my subconscious actually knew there was something dangerous out there that night. I tell myself that even if it was a cougar, it probably wouldn't have attacked me (i was 6'2, 200 lb) but I've never in my life felt 'fight or flight' that clearly and strong.
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Thanks for the recommendation DRX... I listened to three of them this evening and I already know getting up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night is going to take a lot of extra motivation.
Are there sound effects/music included?
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Sometimes the way they present the creepy scenario is so clinical and removed that it has no effect while listening, and it'd only creep you out to remember it later, if that makes any sense? But some just draw you right in and eurgh.
No sound effects, but there is music sometimes. Whole episodes go by without any, and when it does appear you know shit's getting real. If you just want a taster, Eyes and Return are around 25 minutes each, and both standout episodes imo.
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I had just finished shooting stompy robots with PAers on MW:O, logged off, and went and laid down to go to bed. Probably around midnight/1am or so here on the West Coast. I live in a basementish apartment. One end of my place sits on the driveway and is 3/4s underground. The end with my bedroom is only about three feet underground, so while the window is waist high inside, it's about 4 inches off the ground outside. It's a window the cranks open and swings out horizontally, and I have an electric mini/thin AC unit in it. It is almost constantly open because my apartment has no air circulation otherwise.
Now I lay down in my room, and fall to sleep. Some time later I groggily wake up to some sort of mechanical grinding sound. Or at least that's what I thought it was in whatever dream I was having. As my mind clears a bit, I realize it's a fairly loud and angry growling, coming from right outside my window. My very, very open window, about 8 inches from my head. I laid there, pretty damn terrified for a fewseconds listening to this. I was too scared to move or give any real indication that I was there, for the fear that this (what I assumed was a dog) would notice me and decide the flimsy screen was not going to deter him from getting at me. After what I'm guessing were a few minutes, I heard the animal move off and I slowly reached up, and cranked my window shut. Went back to sleep.
Woke up in the morning, kinda laughed about it, thinking I must have been freaking out about nothing or whatever. Fucking silly right? Went to go out jogging. Out the door, quicklike up the stairs, turn the corner...and see the remains of a squirrel scattered all the fuck over the little stone path right next to my window. Whatever the fuck was outside my room last night had torn it to pieces while I was laying there trying not to piss myself in fear and convincing myself that I was just being silly and imagining things. Still don't know what it was. Coulda been a damn schnauzer for all I know, but I still feel very, very glad I did not attract it's attention last night.
Mvrck is a were-dachshund who sates his blood-lust on monthly squirrel hunts.
Of course, I'm not ready to give up on my were dachshund theory just yet.
Edit: I mean, the other possibility is @Dhalphir finally figured out where I live and he was stalking me to murder me and steal my internet.
Double Edit:
That is what it sounded like.
I was lucky enough to grow up close to the beach (Here to be precise) and in the autumn one year I was taking the family dog Obi a black labrador/collie cross for a walk up the coast. It was earlyish in the morning and the sky as usual in England was overcast and grey. As well as the bleak sky there was also a sea fog, which is not uncommon for the time of year. I could see probably about fifty feet before the fog was too thick and it gave the beach a muted peaceful feeling.
To my shame we didn't really walk our dog enough as kids due to our family situation and this lead to him being super excited to be out on the beach, he'd charge around like a lunatic bringing sticks to me to throw and hurling into the sea. Bounding off into the fog ahead of me and then running back past me and out into the mist behind. We walked for about half an hour and I had just decided to head home, I called the dog and he came tearing out of the mist again and then stopped dead. He was stood completely still staring into the fog. I'd stopped walking and was listening intently to try and make out what he was looking at, I could not hear a single sound besides the ocean, nothing.
So chalking it up to dog crazy I took a step forward, the dog barked and I almost lost it, in that quiet eery setting it was like a thunderclap. Then the dog walked across in front of me still staring into the fog as if putting himself between me and whatever he was convinced was there. I had never seen him act like that, he was never aggressive, even when other dogs were to him, my heart was pounding in my chest, for the dog to act like this he must've felt really threatened. Then a stone (a big pebble) came out of the fog and landed a few feet in front of me, the noise of it made the dog start barking and I shouted angrily hoping to hear some footsteps or something retreat on the shingle but there was nothing. Then Obi suddenly relaxed and looked up at me. I stood listening for another few minutes while the dog milled about around me. Then started heading home, the dog walked right by my side the entire way.
I've subsequently decided that it was probably some kids throwing stones around, but the dogs reaction was so strong and out of character that I really have no idea.
----
One summer I was home from University and my Mum and Sister had gone away on holiday. I had to make some money so I stayed home to look after the dog and work. It was a weekend and I had gotten home from my shift waiting at a restaurant late in the evening. I showered and went straight to bed with the dog curled up on the floor beside me. Just as I was drifting off I heard a thump, I opened my eyes, suddenly wide awake and started listening as hard as I could for potential intruders. The dog was still where he had been, so i knew it wasn't him. Then it happened again. THUMP. It was definitely from downstairs towards the back of the house. I got up and for some reason grabbed a tennis racket, (because my mad ninjaracket skills were going to protect me) and it happened again. THUMP. It was a really deep bang that reverberated through the whole house, I cracked my bedroom door open and crept onto the landing, not hearing anything in the house I crept slowly down the stairs.
Our house was fairly small and from the bottom of the stairs you could see all the way through to the dining room window that looked out into the garden, I hated that window at night, we had no curtains on it and as I moved through the dark house towards it all I could imagine was something horrific slamming against that glass. THUMP THUMP. It was in the garden. In the kitchen I grabbed a torch from a draw and unlocked the back door, I took a deep breath and opened the door. The dog chose that moment to barge past me into the garden making me squeal like a little girl. I stepped out into the darkness and there was the loudest bang of all. From the garden gate, which was open and banging in the wind.
I just started with "House" CREEPY!
Either way is fucking horrifying but...
So thanks!
Edit: The story about the girl being chased by someone, and then a girl ending up being found murdered later in the same area made me sad. I know it was a distressing situation and probably hard to think straight afterwards, but a potentially dangerous and suspicious guy who very likely chased you for a bit, is something you should be notifying the police about, right?
Please shoot me a PM if you add me so I know to add you back.
My youngest sister recently moved to Pensacola, FL, for a new job. She settled in her new apartment, all packed and ready to go.
Two times so far she has received a phone call during 2:00 am. Answering the phone gives her a few seconds of silence, followed by a hanging up. The number both times has come out to 666-6666.
Another night she heard a massive "thunk" in her room, like something super heavy fell. She scoured her apartment to see if anything fell over. A loose mirror, a box, anything. Nothing was found.
The next day she claimed that there was an extra bar of soap directly next to the one she freshly opened earlier in the day. She swears up and down she did not open a second box of soap, nor did she neatly arrange it right next to the one she just opened.
And finally, on her way back from visiting us in Miami, she lost her iPhone 5 charger. She remembered specifically packing it in her bag, and it hasn't turned up on our end either.
I'm waiting to see if she'll keep getting calls from the 666 number.
As ashamed as I am to say it, I'm looking forward to whatever crazy shit might happen to her next. I only have one other friend who swears he has experienced actual paranormal activity in a place he once stayed at.
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Oh jesus christ this is extra fucking creepy as somebody who has survived the Oceanside Hotel. Fuck this story.
My girlfriend's 17 year old cat Cohn passed away last year. Everyone says this about their pets (even though he wasn't mine) but he was the best cat ever. Very affectionate. Her family always marveled at the connection we had. I'm a dog guy, so it was kind of weird for me too. Now, I'm also deathly allergic to cats so his affection usually made my head congest and eyes bleed out of their sockets... but I really liked him anyway.
I was at home the day he was put down, but didn't find out until much later in the evening. That WHOLE day, I swear I kept seeing a cat shaped shadow darting around my peripheral vision. At first I thought it was maybe my dog scooting about (he tends to do that) but he was nowhere to be seen. Then I thought maybe I was seeing him because he was on my mind due to him being so sick and knowing how much it bothered my GF.
Later when my girlfriend called me in tears to tell me they put him down, I put the pieces together and immediately assumed he had come to visit me.
Weird right? I went over to my girlfriend's house that evening. While speaking with her and her mother, I brought up that I had been seeing Cohn in my periphery and they went white as sheets. Apparently they both had the same experience that day.
Normally, I would shrug this off as my mind playing tricks on me but I had no idea he had died. I only had this experience that same day he passed and it never happened again.
Bah, recounting this story has made me sad all over again.
What is the Oceanside Hotel?
Pretty sure he's referring to an area that's in Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines. It's pretty creepy... but I can't help but feel that the tension was hyped up by my friends and PAer's forewarning me about that segment.
Regardless, it's no Ishimura.
Goddamnit now I need to go replay Dead Space
I was planning to sleep tonight but GUESS NOT
Still doesn't explain the other stuff, but for now the story seems hardly as creepy.
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Judging by the size (no bigger than my fist), I'm guessing it to be a possum, though perhaps someone more knowledgeable can better determine it.
Your mileage my vary, but still a pretty creepy thing to find out of the blue.
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But probably possum since you mentioned the size. Squirrel skulls are way smaller.
If I were a poltergeist, I'd stupid shit like this. Like not terrorize folks, just leave extra bars of soap in the tub, turn the toaster to the highest setting, put the wrong month on the calendar.
Harmless things and mild annoyances.
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So you're the one who's been creeping my wife out!
Switch: nin.codes/roldford
it was this story about a shadow figure that chased people, the grandmother spirit of the land called the 'wanuki' or something.
if anyone knows what im talkin about post it or pm the story to me if you can thx
you have been summoned
maybe i'm streaming terrible dj right now if i am its here
So, you'd basically be a boggart.
Let's play Mario Kart or something...
Crossing the street, I came to a crossroads that faced me every time I made this trek. There were three paths that could take me home: I could keep following the road, turning off into side roads after a time and make it to my house, but it took significantly longer. I could cut through the parking lot of the local Middle School, follow the dirt path to the back of their baseball field and slip through a gap in the back of the chain link fence, this dropped me off on my street and it was a short walk home from there. Lastly, there was a path between the two, one that only people who had been children that grew up in this neighborhood knew about. It was a massively overgrown forest path running parallel to the Middle School for most of it's length, hedged off by a chain link fence from the school. That came out in a field directly next to my house. This last one was the quickest path, but was scary as shit. Being a straight shot, any time I used it at night, I'd close my eyes and just push through as quickly as I could, my hands up to block any possible low hanging branches.
On this night, I decided I wasn't quite that brave, but I was eager enough to get out of the night that I chose the happy medium. Decided I'd go with the Middle School short cut. That seemed sensible enough at the time, but it would hardly help me. As I walked down the open field, I could smell dew forming on the grass and hear/feel the large grain sand from the baseball dimond under my shoes. Then, I got a spike of an intensely weird feeling. It's a feeling I get when genuinely "supernatural" things happen to me. Hard to describe if you haven't felt it, it's not painful so much as just weird. Like how I always imagined Spider-Man's spider sense feeling. I often describe it as feeling like a finger pressing on the inside of my skull, pushing out. Usually, it's just a mild sense of preassure, but tonight my Spider Sense was going crazy.
Slowly, my eyes were drawn to a mound of sand that had built up at the edge of the field, where there was a word written in such clear script it couldn't have been scratched in with a finger or a stick. I wish I could tell you what the word was, but for reasons that will soon become apparent, I've since purposefully forgotten it. I just remember that it wasn't an english word. For the purposes of the story, let's say it was, "Moratu".
I looked down, saw the world and quitely remark to myself, "Huh, 'Moratu.'"
From the forest path a good dozen two feet away I hear, "...atu."
Another voice, whispered just a half second behind my own. I freeze, my eyes locked on a gap in the wall of brush where the voice seemed to come from. There was nothing but a patch of midnight filling the hole, darkness, silence and stillness.
I might have shouted, "Hello?"
You always yell at people on your TV screen when they do shit like that, but I swear, every time I think that I'm alone and then suddenly sense something Other near me, I do the same thing as the idiot on TV. Guess it's not so rediculous after all. Whether I shouted or not, there were no further words rising from the woods, just a sense of something around me shifting subtly, like vertigo almost. I gathered my resolve and started putting one foot in front of the other, eager to get home as my Weird Sense was going completely apeshit. The trees beside and ahead of me stretched and grew, towering and black. The moon grew until it was HUGE. Imagine the final day in Majora's Mask without the face. It was giant and glowing with yellowish white light. The world was melting into something that felt like illustrations from fairy tales. The houses that I knew should be surrounding me as I made it into my neighborhood weren't there, just deeper woods.
In time, I came to the mouth of a cave, shadows writhing in the dark. All around me in these black woods that shouldn't be there, I could hear and feel things moving, seemingly toying with me. There seemed no way to go but toward the cave. I drew closer to the mouth of the cave, the moving shapes that I could now see were humanoid stopped, turned and stared right out at me.
It was just then with a sudden shock that the illusion broke. The mouth of the cave was again the window of a truck, the figures staring out were two young lovers who'd gone out the the truck to make out. I must've scared the shit out of them. Embarassed as I realized what was happening, I quickly ran away, looping back around to my house. As I walked past the mouth of the forest path, I crossed the street to keep as much asphalt between myself and that place as possible. There was just the faintest sound of teasing laughter as I sprinted the last few yards to my front door. I threw open the front door, tore off my clothes and dived straight into bed.
I've never seen a word like that again, never heard or saw anything in those particular woods, even when I walked the path. Even at night. Hell, I'm a curious sort and not always that smart when it comes to my own survial. I wanted to know if it was all in my head or if there was something there that night. The only thing that remains of the encounter is that for several months afterward, when looking in the mirror, I'd feel compelled to speak the word again, just to see if anything would happen. I was always too afraid. I'd press my tounge into the back of my teeth until I could tear myself away. With time and effort, I've managed to forget enough of the sylables in the word that if it is dangerous, I'm not going to be emperiled by my own rampant curiosity.
It sounds made up and if I read this written by someone else I'm sure I wouldn't believe it, but like I said at the beginning I don't know if this is just some strange temporary lapse of sanity or an encounter with something truly otherworldly. Reguardless, I swear that this is not fiction. I've always been a weirdness magnet, but this was by far the worst of all the strange things that have ever happened to me.
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So, my grandfather died on MLK Day a couple of weeks ago. The day before, I had a conversation with my wife over dinner about what would happen if my grandfather died, how would my grandmother deal with it, etc. My grandfather was certainly old, but in good enough shape. He and my grandmother still lived at home and were able to take care of themselves and do most chores. He shoveled the driveway the day before, and even completed the crossword puzzle before he passed away. It was a very sudden death as he had no health problems and we had seen him healthy over Christmas.
I guess I've just found it strange that I felt compelled to have a conversation on something such as his death and how we all would handle it, when it wasn't imminent, only to have it happen in a little over 12 hours. Especially since my mother and grandmother both claim to possess the kind of gift that would foresee something like that. In fact, when we finally arrived at my grandmother's house, basically the first thing my mom said to my grandmother was "did you have a premonition?" I haven't mentioned that I had a conversation about his death the day before he passed away to any of my family, but my wife and I certainly thought it interesting. I put it down to coincidence, but there's just that 1% confirmation bias part of my brain that sees it as something more than coincidence.
Last winter we had a bit of a frightening occurrence at the X household. My wife was sleeping on the couch due to my snoring, and woke up at 2 in the morning to find that the front door was open.
To provide some context, the house is quite old for the area, about 65 years old, but is well kept and not at all creaky or creepy. The front door is on the right side of the house with the living room to the immediate left upon entry, which explains how my wife was able to see that the door was open when she woke.
So my wife got up to have a look. Two of our three cats were looking out of the door into the cold night, the third wasn't aware that the door was open, which was lucky because she probably would have gotten out. My wife could see no sign of force, so she closed the door, locked it, and set our heavy cat tree in front of it. I changed the lock and knob the next evening.
I figure that the door hadn't latched properly and opened on it's own - the lock on the door was old and upon inspection it was evident that the internals were damaged - but it was still pretty creepy.
I grew up out in the boonies in south east Michigan, technically metro Detroit. We lived on a dirt road, with neighbors about every half mile or so - mostly farmer's fields and woods. About a half mile down our road, there was a bridge over a small river and then woods on one side, fields on the other and no houses for about a mile on this stretch of road.
One persistent rumor that would come up in the area was that there was a panther / cougar roaming around. Every six months or so, someone would see something way out in a field and report they saw a cougar. The few times there were videos / pictures (it was mid-90's) it looked more like a big black dog.
Anyway, one summer day before I started my freshman year of high school, I woke up because our dogs were going crazy and saw a bunch of people out on the other side of the creek / strand of trees next to my parent's house. There was a news crew, a few of the neighbors the next road over, and a few other people I didn't know. so of course I went over to investigate. One of our neighbors thought they saw the supposed cougar roaming the field behind our house / our creek and reported it to the news, so being a slow news day they sent someone out. Another neighbor had black great danes, so I just figured that one of them got out and was running around. The reporters took some pictures, shot a little film, and that was about it...sadly, the most exciting thing that had happened in a while.
That evening I went out for a run. On my way back, I was coming up on the woods / bridge and about a mile from home. I didn't see or hear anything, but all of a sudden I got the feeling that my body had just dumped a shitload of adrenaline into my system. My heart was racing, and I looked around, but it was getting pretty dark and I couldn't see anything. I don't think I've ever felt more uneasy or terrified in my life, it was like my whole body signaled 'danger' at once.
I took off running harder, and as I came up to the bridge I just kept feeling like something was wrong and I needed to run faster and faster. I kept looking behind me but it was dark and I couldn't see or hear anything, and just ran home as hard and fast as I could. I ran so hard that I threw up and didn't lose a step, I don't think I've ever ran that fast in my life. When I got home, after I caught my breath, I turned on all of our outside lights but couldn't see anything out there. My parents asked if I was ok, and I just told them I had a hard run.
The next few days I was busy and stayed inside because of rain, but I went over to one of my friend's (the one with great danes) houses to play Genesis. As soon as I got over there, he started talking about the cougar, and told me that the day after it was on the news, he was fishing at the river and saw a bunch of big footprints - big footprints that he didn't think were from a dog - in the mud by the woods and river. Right along where I had felt - something - some warning, something telling me I was in danger.
To this day, I don't know if it was just my paranoia combined with it being dark, or if my subconscious actually knew there was something dangerous out there that night. I tell myself that even if it was a cougar, it probably wouldn't have attacked me (i was 6'2, 200 lb) but I've never in my life felt 'fight or flight' that clearly and strong.