Let me tell you a moment from my life that I can’t quite explain. I’ll start with the layout of my bedroom. My bed lay perpendicular to the only window in the room, and right next to me was my nightstand. It was approximately 11PM, my parents were both in the kitchen, my brother in the living room. I was lying in bed, with the door open and my window open. All of a sudden, I hear a loud whisper calling my name, and it sounded like it was coming from outside. I’m basically blind without my glasses, but I saw a green light hovering next to my nightstand. I felt fear, but I lay motionless in bed, and it said, “Psst, Michael, hey Michael.” I freaked out and ran out of my bedroom. Interestingly, my fear vanished as soon as I left the room. I haven’t experienced anything weird, except this one time where a ruler hit my stomach while I was doing homework, and seeing a shadow hovering over me, but that’s another story for another time. Read more terrifying and weird moments in this
Reddit thread too.
I used to work in music and toured with this band. The guitarist (Josh) of the band’s best friend (Matt) had died a couple years back. He always talked about the kid and he seemed like a great guy. Josh always had this recurring dream where Matt was standing on this abandoned street which, supposedly, was metaphorical for purgatory. Josh had all these conversations with Matt in these dreams and because he had overdosed unexpectedly, he felt like his spirit was not able to move on. At the end of the dreams, Matt would take a bulb from the street light on the street they were standing in the middle of. Josh described these dreams in extreme detail and I could pretty much picture what the street looked like.
Fast forward to about 6 months into touring with these guys. They were huge Bright Eyes fans and wanted to stop in Cassadaga, Florida (Bright Eyes’ singer wrote an album there and it’s a really creepy, spiritual medium place.) It might be worth noting that 6/7 of the people I was with are all atheists. So we drive into Cassadaga around 2 or 3 am and drive around. Suddenly, this big black dog comes in the middle of the road and just stops and looks at us. The guys in this band were weird as fuck and were saying things like “Follow the dog! It’s trying to show us something!” And in my mind, I’m just thinking they are all fucking idiots.
We follow this dog for a few blocks, as it was walking pretty slowly. All of the sudden, we turn a street and the dog bolts. We try to speed up but Josh says “Stop the fucking van. This is it.” We are all confused and he gets out of the van and looks around. “This is it. This is the street in my dreams.” We hang out for about 15 minutes and from the way he described the street, from having houses on the left to a park on the right, it was definitely the street. As we get in the van, a street light goes off and we just drive off. He claims he never had anymore dreams about it, as that was closure on everything.
One night about 2 years ago my brother and I were sitting in our living room watching TV. Our 15-year-old Border Collie was downstairs sleeping, and the door was closed. We were the only ones home. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something black walk between our two chairs and into the kitchen, about as high as my waist. A few seconds later, my brother looks up at me and says “Did you see that?” and we both explained that we saw what looked like our dog. We looked in the kitchen and he wasn’t in there. So we went downstairs to check on him and he was just barely warm – he had passed away probably an hour ago.
My younger sister was 3 and started laughing/pointing at the corner of our living room. When my mother asked her what she was laughing at, she said “Grandad and Bourbies.” She was less than a year old when my grandad died and had never met our dog ‘Bourbon’ who was nicknamed Bourbies.
Also we had a black lab who would just bark at the same corner regularly and refused to lay there for years.
I don’t believe in ghosts etc but that was some strange stuff.
I was 6 at the time, and head down the hallway to my room. The hallway has two door on the left, the first one leads to the bathroom, the second is the room my younger brother (5 at the time) and I share. It is just the two of us in the house.
As I am walking to my room, I decide that if I see my brother I am going to tackle him and start horsing around. At that exact moment he walks out of his room. I start talking to him, and he says he really needs to poop. I figured it would be best not to tackle him when he is on the verge of taking a shit and walk into my room. He waves to me as he closes the bathroom door. I open up the bedroom door and find my brother sitting on the couch watching tv.
I quickly run back to the bathroom and open the door to find it empty. I run over to him and ask him if he was just in the hallway talking to me. He shook his head, and to this day he still doesn’t know what I am talking about if I ask him about it.
There is no way that he could have gone back into our bedroom from the bathroom. If it was him trolling me he would have told me by now (14 years have passed). I know what I saw and I just can’t explain what it was, and it gives me the creeps to this day.
I had my usual internet night and was alone with my sister because mom went to take care of sick grandma who was in really bad shape. I decide to hit bed around 4:30 AM, and I couldn’t crack a zzz so I started to imagine various crap to soothe myself to sleep. Anyways, after 20 minutes I get this vivid image of my childhood street, it looked like it was one on those warm summer days, really bright and stuff, from the spot where I was standing I could see my grandmas balcony, only for it to go completely pitch black after few seconds. I get into panic attack, start to hyperventilate and just jump straight out of the bed for a smoke. Thought about picking up a phone but I just calmed myself down into thinking I imagined stuff.
Next morning, mom came home with news that grandma has passed away around 5 AM. I was biggest pile of sadness, shock and WAT at that moment.
When my Grandfather died, my parents were in charge of cleaning out his old house. I ended up helping out a couple of times and the night before we were finished I had a dream about my Grandfather is his basement pointing at a spot behind the staircase.
It was so vivid and real that I had to tell everyone about it. The next and final day of cleaning we went to the spot I was talking about. My dad ended up pulling back some old wood paneling and found a bunch of old photographs of when my grandparents first moved into the house.
So I am hanging out with my Significant Other at the time, and we were making out on the couch, like all up on each other grinding and moaning. We had not seen each other for a couple weeks as she had just gotten back from vacation. So things are really starting to heat up and we were getting ready to shed our clothes when the phone starts ringing. My SO lets out a groan and complains, telling me not to pick it up. You know how phones are, though, you just can’t leave them ringing because what if it was something important, etc.
So I pick up the phone and this older sounding man speaks up on the other end. I can’t really make out what he is saying though so I tell him to speak up. At this point my SO, probably because she was annoyed that I had picked up the phone and stopped our make-out session, hits the speakerphone button on the phone cradle. Loud and clear this man’s voice blasts from the phone speaker: “What are you doing with my daughter!?”
As we heard the distinct click of the phone line going dead, me and my SO just looked at each other a moment in amazement as we both knew her dad had been dead for years.
One night, I was in bed, beating my wife, when phone ring. I beat phone, then pick it up. I hear voice. Voice says; “What you do with my daughter?!”
I turn to wife and demand to know why her father interrupt me beating her. But she say, her father is dead!
Then, KGB break into house and arrest me for illegal possession of phone. Such is life in Soviet Russia.
In fourth grade I walked down the hall at school. I came to an intersection with an older kid looking dumbfounded at me from across the intersection. I turned right and walked away.
In sixth grade I walked down the hall at school. I came to an intersection with a younger version of me looking at me from across the intersection. I turned right and walked away.
My grandparents are German and I was visiting them one summer, i believe 2001. My grandparents were having their big 50th wedding anniversary, so there were all kinds of people from the neighborhood (small village, maybe 500 people), in and out of their front yard. One person that I remember seeing looked eerily like the neighbor kid that I used to play with years ago. I blinked and he was gone. I asked my relatives, but they told me that the kid hadn’t lived there (I believe it was his grandparents house) for years.
The only reason I remembered this was because it bugged me all summer. Later that summer I was riding a bike across an intersection and hit a car. Somehow instead of the car hitting me, which would have caused a lot of broken bones, the bike hit the front fender of the car and the tire left an indent. I landed on the pavement, knocked out, with one shoe flying 20-30 feet into the middle of the road. I had severe back pain when my grandparents took me to the hospital, but no injuries other than scrapes and bruising.
My best friend passed away almost 6 years ago. A few weeks before she passed we were hanging out at her place, smoking and watching movies. I was using a mini purple bic lighter (purple being my favorite color, as well as hers). She took my lighter and when I asked for it back, she said I could have it when she was done with it. Every time I saw her after that I’d ask her if she was done with it and she would still refuse to give it back.
She was from Illinois, and we were living in Florida. When she died, some mutual friend’s, my 2.5 yr old son and I drove up to her hometown for the funeral, and we spent almost two weeks up there, visiting with her family, going to all her favorite places around town, saying our goodbyes. They day before we were leaving to come back home, I wanted to go back to the cemetery one more time, since I knew it would be a while before I’d be able to come back. I had my son with me. We parked the stroller, I sat there and talked to her while my son ran around playing. I spent maybe an hour just sitting there, talking. It was time to go, so I put my son back in the stroller and as I went to stick the diaper bag back in the storage compartment underneath, something purple caught my eye. I reached in to see what it was, and my breath caught in my chest, as I pulled back my hand and was holding my purple lighter. It was most definitely not there upon my arrival to the cemetery, yet here it was, laying in my hand. I started crying all over again. She had always said I could have it back when she was done with it and apparently was true to her word.
Once when I was 3 or four I was walking around in Walmart holding my moms hand. I decided to play a game with myself and close my eyes and let her lead me, like a seeing-eye dog. After a few twists and turns I open my eyes and look up. This old ass lady was looking down at me and smiling as I held her hand, terrified. Can’t explain it to this day.
This happened in like 2003.
I was sleeping on the couch in my living room. My family just moved and I didn’t have my bed set up yet. Anyways, it was about 4 in the morning and I heard panting. Like from a dog. I thought I was just dreaming the sound, because we didn’t have a dog at the time. I tried to ignore the sound, and go back to sleep, but it wouldn’t stop. I listened to the sound and tired to figure out if it was the heater or something, but then I heard whatever it was walk across the floor to right behind the couch where I was sleeping. I distinctly heard the clicking of nails on the hardwood floor and the panting grew louder. I lifted up my head and the sound stopped. I have no idea what it was or what it could have been, but, the story doesn’t stop there. A couple days passed and I was woken up by my mom in the middle of the night. She came down into the living room because she said that she heard what sounded like a dog get up and walk from beside her bed all the way out into the living room where I was sleeping. It still creeps me out when I think about it.
I once put a USB plug in the correct way on the first try.
Once.
More than once as a child I heard my name being called when no one was around at home. It scared me so much I never really told anyone, but recently my parents made jokes about our old home (now demolished) being haunted because of all the strange noises they would hear at night. I consider myself a rational person and don’t believe in the supernatural, but remembering this really puts me on edge.
When I was 12-13, I was sitting on the top of my stairs reading. It was quiet in the house, my Mum was in her room reading as well and my dad and brother were not home. It was a bright, sunny spring day out.
In winter, my grandma had passed from cancer. It was painful, but it was her time and our family had been moving on well. My only regret is that I did not get to say a proper goodbye. I was too young and I had not experienced death yet, so I couldn’t really grasp the situation and couldn’t fathom saying goodbye.
When I sat on those stairs, I heard someone talking to me. It was in a British accent, and my grandma was an immigrant to Canada from England in the 1960s. “Hello jesustitties, how are you?” and a huge conversation broke out. For twenty minutes, I talked with this woman without lifting my head from my book. I never got up to see who I was talking to, I just accepted that I was now talking and I did so. I didn’t feel anything, like I was numb for those 20 minutes.
We discussed my school, life, goals, friends. And after a while, she said “well it was nice to see you again. goodbye” And I said goodbye as well. And that was it. Silence. I sprung up to realize no one was there, that I was talking to no one. It couldn’t have been in my head. I heard the echo of the sound bouncing in the stairwell that I was sitting in, I heard the voice move around, I heard footsteps and movement.
But no one was there. No one was ever there. My mum was still in her room. I went from calm, to curious to terrified in seconds. I let out a huge scream, freaked out and ran into my room too scared to leave again. Well, until dinner time of course.
I still to this day believe that my grandma visited me and gave me the chance to give her a proper reply. But I’m not scared to remember this, it doesn’t give me chills. To remember the moment actually calms me and makes me feel better. I know there is a rational explanation out there, and that I likely just fell asleep and dreamed, but I’m much more at peace with the supernatural reason.
My boyfriend-at-the-time and I were house sitting for his parents one weekend. I was about 19 or 20, so there’s no mistaking what happened.
It was roughly 10pm on a Saturday night. BF is playing a video game in one of the bedrooms, I’m in the living room reading. Nothing spectacular. The house is fairly large, but not overwhelmingly so.
So I’m sitting in a chair in the living room, reading. There’s a fake tree behind me that fills the 3 feet of space between my chair and the wall. There’s a side table to my left, everything’s normal… until a gust, a GUST, of wind/air/spooky shit blows past my face. My hair moves. The tree behind me shakes like A FUCKING GUST OF WIND FROM NOWHERE JUST BLEW THROUGH ITS BRANCHES, and then something, SOMETHING, bangs into the wall. I immediately get the fuck out of there, run to the bedroom where boyfriend is playing games, and just start crying because I had no idea what the fuck just happened.
I finally calm down, then we adventure back into the pit of that evil place to investigate. All doors and windows are locked, tight, sealed, shut. There’s barely even a breeze outside. There is nothing, NOTHING, in the area around the chair to even slightly explain the thud I heard on the wall behind me. House sitting was officially over.
For the remainder of our relationship, I never set foot in that house again after dark. EVER.
I was staying at my aunt’s house when I was 12 or so, having a sleepover with one of my cousins. It was probably 2 or 3 in the morning, and I woke up feeling like someone was watching me. I looked toward the door and I saw a boy of about 5 standing there looking at me. He had brown, curly hair, blue eyes, chubby cheeks, a birthmark on his left cheek and he was dressed for winter in a red and blue coat, even though it was July. He smiled and waved at me, then turned around and walked through the door.
I told my aunt about it the next morning, and when I described him she got this terrified look on her face and went to get a picture of a boy who looked exactly like I had described. He was my cousin, who had died on Christmas day 1982 (the picture was taken that day), after having suited up to go try out his new sled. They were getting ready to cross the highway when he broke away and ran across the street. He was hit by a truck that couldn’t stop in time. I was only 1.5 years old, so I had no memory of him, and I lived hundreds of miles away, so I wasn’t there that day.
I go to college in northern Minnesota (Duluth). While there, I met one of my best friends, let’s call him J. J’s brother (M) and roommate (N) live about two hours south of where we go to school, in Minneapolis. One weekend, me and J decided to go visit the two of them, because they’re both 21 and have some pull in the city, so they could get us into bars. We get down there on Friday afternoon, and they say instead of going out tonight, we’re gonna investigate some paranormal stuff at a house their buddy just bought (Apparently, they’re huge into ghosts). So it’s like 2 or 3 on Saturday morning, and we head over to this house. Me, J, M, and N all head into this guy’s basement; crawl space, rather. M pulls out this ouija board and we all sit on the ground and place our hands on the piece. N asks, ‘Are there any spirits with us right now?’ The board answers, ‘Yes.’ He asks, ‘How many?’ It answers, ’1.’ I ask, ‘What’s your name?’ It answers, ‘N A L A.’ ‘Nala.’ We all are extremely creeped out at this point, so we decide to call it quits, because it was working too well, and we had no idea what we were in for. We pack our things up and leave for M & N’s apartment.
So we leave my friend’s brother’s friend’s house, and go back to my friend’s brother’s apartment (still following?). At this point, it’s about 4:30 in the morning, and J’s brother (M, just making sure), has gone to bed. The only three people awake, are me, J, and M’s roommate N. We decide (bad idea, in hindsight), to get the ouija board back out. We sit at their dining room table, place our hands on the piece, and N asks, ‘Are there any spirits here with us?’ It answers, ‘yes.’ I ask, ‘How many?’ It says, ’1.’ We ask its name, and it says nothing. So we start asking questions about us to see how legitimate all this is. N asks, ‘How many people using this Ouija board right now live in this apartment?’ It answers, ’1,’ which is correct. I ask, ‘Where are me and J from?’ It answers, ‘Duluth.’ Now we’re getting a little freaked out, so we make the questions tougher.
Having never met N before, me and J took our hands off the piece and had N ask it questions about the two of us, because there’d be no way to fake it. I go first, and I have N ask the names of my two best high school friends (This is where it gets weird, stay with me). The board answers, ‘M W & T B.’ N has never met them, I never told him anything, but the board got it completely right. J’s turn; same question. It answers ‘G F & D M.’ Totally correct. N gets up from the table, me and J sit down, and ask the same question for a third time, about N’s best friends. ‘W,’ it answers, right, of course. So now we’re getting very freaked out. We decide to make the questions a little tougher. We have N use the board by himself again, and he asks a complex question about our group of friends in college. ‘In C & J’s group of friends, what’s the name of the kid who thinks everyone likes him, but really, nobody can stand him. It answers, ‘T H.’ Nailed it. There’s no pauses between question and answer, no spelling errors, it’s too god damn real.
So we take it to the toughest level we know how to, by writing down something on a piece of paper in a different room, and asking the board about that. J goes first, me and N are at the table. I say, ‘J is in the bathroom writing down a number on a piece of paper. Go in, find out what it is, then come back and tell us.’ Something’s different this time. There’s no immediate answer, as if the spirit itself is going into the bathroom to find out. Another thing to add. M and N have two of the most timid dogs I’ve ever met. When the ‘spirit’ went into the bathroom, the dogs ran in there and started raising hell so loudly at J. It was unbelievable. After a few more seconds, the board answers, ’7.’ J brings the paper out. 7. We’re shaking now. It’s my turn. I go in and write a letter down. They ask the question. Same thing; not immediate, the dogs start to attack me. The board answers. ‘K.’ I bring my paper out. K. 2 for 2. This is getting too real. N goes in the bathroom, writing down a letter/number combo. Same thing for a third time. The board answers, ‘R4.’ N reveals, R4. Finally, we’re getting too scared. We ask, ‘Who are you?’ The board answers, ‘ N A L A.’ Nala. We realize it’s the same spirit from before. N asks, ‘Did you follow us from my friend’s house from before?’ The board answers, ‘Goodbye.’
![Do not stare at this image.]()
Do not stare at this image.
The same name always pops up whenever I’ve used an ouija board or someone within the same house uses a ouija board without me. Didn’t freak me out at first, until one day my little sister mentioned it. I was in my room one night just watching tv and my sister got home from a sleepover. She immediately walked into my room and said “So whos Jack? (lets call him Jack)” It freaked me out because I had never told her about it. Her and her friends had used an ouija board the night before and ‘Jack’ was the one who answered. He said he knew me, and told my sister he had met me when I was 6. He then said we finally spoke a year ago. He gave her the address of the house and the names of all the people involved the first night I used an ouija board. I told her I had no idea what she was talking about because I was scared as hell and I didn’t want her to freak out too.
When I was in college, one morning I walked out to my car and there was an unopened 40 of Old English sitting in the passenger seat. I hadn’t put it there. The windows were rolled up and the doors were locked. I was the only one with a key to my car, and I hadn’t given it to anyone. My roommates were both out of town. No explanation was ever proffered by anyone.
I told my friends about it and we chalked it up to “The 40 Fairy”. Of course I drank it.
When I was a teenager, I was driving home from an hour and a half away in the wee hours of the morning. I was on the interstate going about 80 mph, and fell asleep at the wheel. All of a sudden, my eyes jumped open, and I saw a shooting star in the sky right in front of my car, the brightest one I have ever seen. Immediately I was wide awake, and about to slam right into a tree. I jerked the wheel to get back on the road, and all was fine. I never fell asleep driving again…
I was out at a local bar one sunday night, and it was basically empty. I was single and alone, and there were only a couple old guys at the bar, who left at about 10pm. I would have left too, as the only other person, the bartender was too busy cleaning the kitchen to talk to me, but I was only about 1 pint into a pitcher so I stayed.
I’m kind of a dork, and remember wearing pants that were a bit too short. I was minding my own business, when I felt a draft at my ankles. I looked up and there was a smoking hot blonde woman in a red dress walking in with a whisp of the thick fog from the street. She was way to hot to be from a normal town, let alone be the kind of woman who would hang around a boring bar like this. I was nervous to talk to her, but felt like it would be more awkward to be the only other person at the bar and not say anything. I got the bartender’s attention and bought her a drink. She smiled and asked me what I was doing there alone. I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t have anyone to go to the bar with me, so I told her that my friends from out of town were going to meet me, but decided not to because the roads were too foggy.
As the night went on, my pitcher grew empty and I could hardly believe that we had held a conversation so long. I guess the liquid courage really kept me from being the nervous wreck I usually am, that is until she pulled me close. She lead me into a lounge area in a separate room and threw me on the couch, sliding her panties out from under her skirt. She wouldn’t let me protest, and she wasn’t going to slow down, but then I had no objections. She rode me for longer than I can remember, and then we stumbled out of the bar, giggling like we were in high school. I said, “Man that was just what I needed!” and she looked into my eyes, and said “I still need something more.” I paused, “Uh yeah, what?” She leaned in close and whispered softly, “About tree-fiddy.” It was at that moment that I realized that this hot blonde was actually a 3-story monster from the paleolithic era.
To this day I still have no idea what happened.
About 15 years ago, my aunt was coming to visit from 8 hours away, and she always called us at the halfway mark at a restaurant she stops at. She did this, but didn’t show up when she was supposed to. This was before cell phones got entirely popular and we didn’t hear from her at all.
The next day, she finally shows up. She acts like nothing happened, doesn’t give any sort of acknowledgment that she was a full day late. When she finally understands what’s happening, she doesn’t really react. She just says that she needed to go lie down for a bit and to wake her for food. While she’s changing, she calls my mother in to show her the ring of dried blood around her hips. No lacerations or anything that would have caused the blood. She goes home the next day, distraught and confused.
A week later she had to have her ovaries removed.
It was a sunny spring day. Three friends and I were walking through a wildlife preserve in a marshy area alongside the Mississippi River near St. Paul, Minnesota. The trail was dry because it was built up a bit, but all the terrain nearby seemed to be in a natural state, a flood plain, I think. There were a few small trees but mostly tall grass. For some reason, we stopped walking and were standing still and talking. While we talked (or maybe while the others talked; I must have been a bit bored) I looked down and stared absentmindedly at a couple of puddles at the edge of the trail. Water was trickling slowly across a patch of mud that separated one puddle from the other. The far side of each puddle disappeared into the grass.
As I watched the trickling water, it slowly came to a stop. Then, after a pause, it started trickling the other way. I told my friends: “Hey, see that water that’s trickling right there? A minute ago, it was going the other way.” They all started watching. A minute or so later, maybe less, the flow gradually stopped, paused, and reversed again. We watched it go through a couple more cycles before we got bored and left.
Not exciting, I suppose, but puzzling.
I had a dream when I was 12-13 years old. I dreamt that I was sitting on the floor in my parents living room watching TV. No big deal. Then the door to the garage opens and my mom and a girl I’ve never seen comes in and as they walk past me, the mystery girl steals a kiss on my lips. Being 12-13 years old it was the kind of kiss that spreads tingles up and down my spine. I never had kissed a girl at that time but it felt like love. That kiss affected me because I felt love before I new what it was.
Skip to me at about 26 years old. Sitting on the floor, watching tv at my parents house. Garage door opens and my mom and my girlfriend walk in. They walk to the kitchen and she steals a kiss on the way. I immediately get insane tingling up my spine and that dream comes rushing back to me. We have been together for 8 years now and we are still madly in love. I’d argue soulmate.
My dad and I were in the truck on the NE extension of the PA turnpike once, coming up to the Lehigh Tunnel, which probably around 1/8 – 1/4 mile in length. Traffic has slowed down prior to the tunnel, leaving us stuck to crawl through the tunnel at a few miles an hour. We just assume there was something past the tunnel causing the hold up. However, halfway through the tunnel traffic turns into one lane, but awkwardly, not as a well defined passing situation.
As we reach the choke point we finally see what’s cause the backup. In the middle of the tunnel, oriented in the wrong direction is a Honda Civic covered and surrounded by raw meat. As in, large chunks of what must have been pig and chicken parts (definitely not beef, no red meat). The driver seemed fine, and was just staring down at his lap making no attempt to get his car out of the way, or clean the bits off of it. There was no meat truck stopped, and the whole seen was very centralized, not drawn out like meat had slowly fallen out of another vehicle.
To this day we have no idea what actually happened, and Bill Murray might as well have been there because nobody ever fucking believes me. But it happened.
When my wife and I were on our first date, the key to her car disappeared. Seriously, we couldn’t find it for about half an hour. All of a sudden, while I was searching under the car, I heard a “tink” and there it was. We still don’t know how it even came off the key ring.
We had recently moved into our house and my brother and I where sharing a room, even had bunk beds. It was a basement room and lacking carpet made it perfect for “it’s your guys duty to deal with the puppy at night”.
One night shortly after heading to bed the pup starts to whimper a little bit. Thinking nothing really of it I roll over and put my hand down to pet him. He whimpers a bit more and I assume it caught my brothers attention. Causing him to look over too.
Why the dog started whimpering became rather clear. There was a large blue ‘person’ standing in our room. It was kind of see through but lit. It gave the impression that it was taller and larger than it was. It shouldn’t have been able to stand in our room yet it clearly was. The proportions where off a bit too. The hands went down to his knees and the shins seemed longer too. I remember watching it and getting the feeling it was looking at me. It turned around and walked away. It seemed to take forever and in slow motion. It walk through the open door, across the hall and stopped for a second before it continued walking right out the basement wall.
Once it was gone I asked my brother if he saw something, he said that he had and before he could start talking about it I told him to go tell his story to our parents before I did. I wanted to know that I hadn’t given him details or altered his view. Naturally our parents both thought we made it up before we talked to them. Still the fact remains that we both saw the same blue person thing walk out of our room and through a basement wall.
Was visiting my friend who lived in the states (english dutch here), and went to a party one night in a place i can only describe as bum fuck nowhere. I wasn’t drinking for antibiotical purposes so I was the designated driver for the night. no big deal, Americans drive automatics, it’s not even driving really.
So as we’re about to leave some of the others at the party ask us which way we’re going to be going home, and my friends says whichever what way was the way we were going home. To which they all reply you should probably go the longer way, but we weren’t having any of it. They then told us to at least not stop until civilization. Slightly curious as to what was going on I turned to my buddy and asked what that was all about, to which he replied don’t worry. I didn’t not worry, but we left all the same.
Driving along this winding road, trees either side and no real lighting asides from what was coming from our car, the tarmaced road was full of potholes and was wide enough for the one car. If and when another did pass, both cars would be off the road if you catch my drift.
So as we round this corner, we see this thing lying across the width of the road I slow down to get a better look, and can see that it’s a person. Worried it might be dead, or bleeding or something I slow down next to it, when my friend tells me don’t stop drive around. The way he uttered those words sent chills down my spine. So without saying a word I maneuvered the car off the road, through the ditch and around the lifeless body. As we pull off and check in the rear view mirror, the body sits up, stares at the car, as 4 or 5 other people come out of the bushes staring at us as we drive off, stupidly fast for such a small road.
Later learned they weren’t spirits or ghosts or yeti’s, but modern day highway men. Still scares the shit out of me.
I expect everyone to think I am insane, but that’s okay. In high school, I had a really strange dream. I was in a bright room, with a large group of people. I didn’t recognize any of them, except for my best friend, who was sitting across from me. We were playing cards, but I had no idea what the game was. I vaguely remember figuring out that it was a poker game, but I wasn’t familiar with it. The last hand that I played before I woke up, there was a huge pile of chips in the middle of the table. I had a king of diamonds and a queen of spades. I played the hand normally, and everyone showed their cards at the end because it wound up being a situation like Casino Royale, where everyone had crazy hands. I woke up feeling confused about why I had such detail in a dream about something so mundane, as my dreams are usually pretty blurry.
Five years later I was in college, playing Texas Hold ‘Em with my friends getting drunk, as we did from time to time. We were playing in a room we didn’t normally play in because we had more people than usual. The cards come out, and I had a king of diamonds and a queen of spades. Slowly wheels start turning and I get an overwhelming sense of deja vu.
Apparently I looked like I was shitting bricks because someone asked me what was wrong. I announced that I felt like I had been here already. My friends were evenly split amongst non-believers and Christians. The Christians disregarded what I was experiencing as a fluke and scoffed. The non-believers were generally skeptical as well, and they started mocking me. I told everyone to put their cards back on the table, and then proceeded to predict all 10 sets of pocket cards, including suit. I then announced what the burn cards were, as well as the flop, turn, and river.
And I was right, on every single card. I stopped playing cards for a while after that, and I started having serious anxiety issues because I kept having dreams about mundane things, and then dying.
Delivering flyers with my parents, maybe 7-years old. One weekend, did someone else’s neighbourhood for a little extra cash and ended up in a beautiful street I’d never seen before. One whole side of the road was thick forest with the biggest trees I’d ever seen, the other side was upper-middle class houses gently sloping up a hill to a dead end. But it was the forest that caught my eye.
Threw the flyers onto the ground and explored the woods for about five minutes, following a trail, until the folks call and we move to the next street, and the next, and the next after.
I asked my folks where that street was with the forest so I could bike to it, as it was pretty close to my house. They had no idea what I was talking about. Lived in that area for the next 10+ years and knew every corner of it, but never found that street again.
WHO WAS PHONE?
Driving home in VT. Late afternoon come to a four way stop. Stop, no cars, release the break and hear a loud male voice say STOP! I press the break and as I do a car flies through the intersection going at least 50 mph. Scared the crap out of me.
Unexplained scars. Each appeared overnight. The cause of the scars is completely unknown to me.
When I was 13, I woke up with what were apparently three large, already-healed wounds across my back. They looked like lash marks from a whip. They didn’t hurt.
When I was 19, a circular wound, about the size of a quarter, appeared just off-center of my spine overnight. They didn’t hurt.
At 30, a “tear” in my skin about 5″ long on my inner thigh. It hurts every day.
I have been to dermatologists to get an idea of what was going on, and all they can tell me is that it’s just normal scar tissue.
During my Junior year in highschool, I did a semester away program where I lived on a farm in rural VT. For our science class, we each had to pick a random spot somewhere on the schools 150 Acre campus, and visit it periodically over the course of the four months to research soil types, tree growth, etc. It was basically on us to go out to our sites whenever we had time. Within the 150 acres are probably 80-100 different logging trails, which is how you get around in the forest. The day runs in a weird way where it’s possible for your schedule to give you a few hours free at a time.
Anyway, a good friend, we’ll call him Tim, had borrowed another friends bike to go to his site for a couple hours – a site which was pretty deep into the woods. He left about an hour before lunch and no one would have noticed he was missing for a few hours, had he not come back. During lunch, I was sitting at a table with one of my teachers who, about halfway through lunch, abruptly stood up (we ate family style so this was weird) and told us he was going for a drive. When we asked him why, he seemed kind of agitated and told us that he just felt like he needed to get out for a bit. He hopped in his pickup truck and left down a random logging road.
He found Tim in a ditch, two miles into the forest on that one same logging trail. He’d been going fast down a hill and the brakes had shot out, propelling him into a tree. He’d broken his spine and couldn’t move. He was medi-vac’d to Dartmouth for emergency surgery and ended up paralyzed from the waist down. He probably would have been alright, but he’d tried to drag himself out of the woods and into a more visible position, badly damaging his spinal cord. He said that he was going to keep trying to drag himself towards the school. If our teacher hadn’t had a fucking bizarre impulse to drive slowly down one in a giant network of logging trails in backwoods vermont in the middle of the day, he most likely would have quickly at least become paralyzed from the neck down. The fact that he had such a terrible feeling and made such a seemingly arbitrary decision has always just struck me as inexplicable.
I woke up sitting in the floor of my kitchen, my back against the refrigerator, with the taste of spoiled milk in my mouth. There were Lucky Charms marshmallows semi-melted in my hands and in my hair.
I have never bought a box of Lucky Fucking Charms in my life.
Sitting on the couch with my dog when I was fifteen, she started growling at something in the left corner of the room. It creeped me out because she only ever growls if somebody is there, and I had never seen her growl at just nothing. The TV at the time was centered on this wall. So the dog’s growling, and all of a sudden her head snaps to the right (like she’s tracking something fast moving across the room) and as her line of sight passes the TV, a clock tumbles off of it like it was knocked off. It was broad daylight and all of the curtains were open.
Last fall I truck-camped at my archery hunting spot one night after work so I could be out hunting at daylight. I had camped in this spot a few times before and it always felt just a little weird but I didn’t think much about it. It’s in the sagebrush-juniper high desert in the middle of nowhere, an hour from a paved road and five miles up a rock two-track that is virtually untraveled by anyone but me during archery season. There’s a natural spring, a good wide flat spot, and some old loose rock foundations up against a hillside nearby from early Chinese mining labor settlements.
Instead of messing with a tent I just set myself up a nest in the backseat of my truck (full size four-door), grab a beer, plug in my laptop and start a movie to wind down (Super Troopers, not Texas Chainsaw Massacre or anything). About a half hour later…
THUMP… Someone jumped in the back of my truck.
It wasn’t that I heard something and started wondering about it, or thought I saw something moving and got myself freaked out about it. I felt the truck move with the weight and heard the noise of someone climbing in. I didn’t even question for a millisecond what had happened. I grab my .45, throw the door open and shoot out from under the sleeping bag/blanket pile I had moments before been quietly chilling under.
Nothing. The open door turns on a cargo light which shines right into the bed of the truck, and there clearly isn’t anything in it that isn’t supposed to be. The moon is out, and in this country that means you can see remarkably well for quite a distance. Nothing but sagebrush. As I come to grips with the fact that there is no one else around, my brain starts throwing facts at me– the only road in here is clearly visible from where I am, and there is absolutely no way someone could get here without me knowing it unless they walked a couple miles in the dark just to scare the shit out of me.
I slowly calm down, open a beer, open another beer, and convince myself it was somehow just the truck “settling” after the rough drive and the noise was “in my head”. It’s way to early to try staying awake until daylight, and I’m not going home, so nothing to do but forget about it and get some sleep. Settle back in, have some chuckles from the movie, drift off…
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Someone is knocking on the window by my head. I open my eyes and it’s brighter out than I expect. My first thought is I have overslept, it’s morning, and someone is knocking on my truck window because… ? I am so sure someone is standing outside the door of the truck, I open it slowly so as not to smack them with it.
It is bright out, but only because the moon is now shining directly on that side of the truck. It’s not morning, and there isn’t anyone there. Somehow, until that moment I had forgotten about the shenanigans from earlier in the evening. When I suddenly remembered them, every fiber of calm in my body tried to evacuate directly out my tightly clenched rectum.
I instantly threw everything I had taken out of the truck into the bed, jumped in, and drove out. Spent three hours driving around, drinking coffee, listening to the radio, waiting for daylight. Obviously never camped there again, and even when I go near that spot at high noon I get creeped the fuck out.
when I was young I would see faceless, formless people peeking around corners and looking at me until I turned my head to look at them. I only ever saw them as a blurry outline in the periphery of my eyes, but their movement and shape were unmistakably humanoid.
This would happen often, however I noticed it a lot more when I was alone.
One day I decided to play a game with one of them, who would duck away every time I looked. So I would turn away and try to catch it unaware as it began to peek back out again.
Every time I looked away longer it would get bolder, peeking out further and further until I could see a shoulder, a torso, a leg shuffle out. And eventually it would step out entirely and watch me through the doorway.
At this point, i smiled and knew there was no way it could hide in time, so I whipped my head across to look at it and saw something that resembled a emaciated flesh morph suit.
I would rather put this down to active imagination, because some things shouldn’t be explained. ![TC mark]()
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