I was alone in my apartment and I decided to take a shower. I locked the door out of habit; it can only be locked and unlocked from the inside. My clean and dirty clothes are thrown on the floor of the bathroom in two separate piles.
When I finished taking the shower, my clothes, both dirty and clean, were neatly folded in two separate stacks on the floor. The door was still locked. I take very quick showers. This happened in the span of five minutes. I have no explanation and I get goosebumps just thinking about it.
This happened about a week ago and nothing like it has happened prior or since.
On my 12th birthday I was on the way to the bike shop to get a new bike, I was with my dad, his girlfriend and my brother. We was still about 10 minutes away from the town center, so no where near the bike shop.
Some random, old, creepy looking guy came up to us, looked down at me and said; "You buying a bike?" I looked at my dad, confused and kinda scared.
We told him that we were on our way to buy a bike. He then started going on about how I MUST get a helmet and wear it ALL the time! We was a little freaked out but we just assumed he was a weirdo and just forgot about it.
A few hours later I was riding through the park on my new bike and I fell off. I didn't fall very hard and landed on grass so it was cool. As I went to get up brush myself off, I looked up and he was just standing there, looking disappointed and shaking his head. He thing shook his index finger at me and said; "I told you to wear a helmet."
At this point I just s**t myself and rode as fast as I could home! What is even weirder though is the fact that I have moved about 40-50 miles away since then and I still see him every once in a while. I don't believe in guardian angels but it just creeps me out.
The house I grew up in was very strange. My friends did not like to spend the night and said that they had weird dreams there. At night it often sounded like someone was moving furniture around in the living room. My mom and I would randomly smell cigar smoke when no one in my house smoked. We would catch movement out of the side of our eyes and nothing was there. Our dogs would suddenly leap up and follow something with their eyes, or would start wagging their tails for not apparent reason.
My mother was yelling at me to take out the trash at around 10 pm. Not a big deal, I just forgot to take it out earlier. I get to the trash cans at the side of my house and throw the bags in the bins. Then, I feel something tugging at my shorts and trying to pull them down. I turn around to see no one there.
My story doesn't involve anything paranormal but it was equality as frightening when it happened to me.
I was 10 years old and it was the day before Mother's Day and my dad had taken my older sister and I to the mall to get her a present. This was like a weeknight though so the mall was pretty dead aside from a bunch of 'mall rats', as what my dad called them. They were just either really old people that sit on the benches and stare at people or gothic teenagers who have all the piercings and mohawks and stuff.
Anyway, the shoppings done and I have to go to the bathroom. My dad and sister wait on a bench and I walk thru these double doors that opens up to a long corridor and leads to the bathrooms all the way at the end. I walk down down and peak inside the bathroom, there are only two stalls but for some reason the main door is propped open. I go in anyway because I really had to pee. So there I am, sitting on the toilet doing my business when I hear voices coming down the corridor. They sounded like a group of the teenage gothic mall rats.
I stand up flush the toilet and am about to open the door when I hear one of them come into the bathroom. I freeze because I thought it was weird for a guy coming into a girl's bathroom. There was a moment of complete silence and then I see a pair of black heavy boots approach my door. Then without hesitation this guy just starts shaking the door really really hard and violently all while making some sort of weird animal like noises. I sit back down on the toilet and almost start crying because I have no idea what's going on. The guy looks in the cracks in the door and I can see that he has one of those huge septum rings and it freaks me out even more. I hear the other guys that are standing in the corridor outside of the bathroom say "just grab her leg from underneath" and so this guy starts sticking his hands underneath trying to grab me but I pulled my legs up on the toilet and start hitting his hands with my little purse. Then he goes into the next stall and tries the same thing. The entire time he's like grunting and making weird sounds...I was so freaked out. I also couldn't speak for some reason. I was like frozen and my mouth couldn't form any words. Then I hear one of them say something about a cop car parked out front so they all leave thru a side exit.
I sat on the toilet paralyzed with fear and my squeezed eyes shut for a good 5 minutes trying to convince myself that it all didn't happen but when I opened my eyes again I could see the bootprints on the tiles of floor and it made me more scared. Finally, my sister comes in asking me why i'm taking so long and i burst out of the stall, crying my head off and booking it down the corridor and back to my dad.
One night I went to take my dog for a walk at around 10:30. As soon as we're out of the door he starts acting really agitated; I figured he just really needed to go. As we walk down the driveway I hear a rustling from the tree in the neighbor's yard that's a few feet away and see a large dark shape. We ran like hell to the street as a bear was now climbing down and was between us and the door. It wandered away without incident and surprisingly my dog still needed to poop.
It was October of 2003 and the day had been a calm, uneventful one. I had just fallen asleep and the lights in the house were all out. I remember being shaken from my sleep to the sight of a shadowy figure hanging out on the stairs, only half of it's body was visible. It quickly ducked down and I heard whispers. "He's still awake, we gotta wait."
These entities, spirits, demons, what ever you want to call them, were planning on "getting me" that night. I quickly started screaming for my mother, who didn't believe me when she came to my room to comfort me. So there I was, all alone, in my dark room, with two entities trying to get me.
I tried to go back to sleep, but again, was quickly shaken by my feet and saw the two figures in the stairwell. I flipped over and covered myself in my blankets, but I felt something breathing on me, the sound of the heavy breathing shook me to the core; I cried for my mother again. She came this time, and only told me to not think about them and they would go away. They never went away, the voices I heard, talking to each other about how they were coming to get me, how they were going to wait 'til I fell asleep.
This is when the music started playing, it sounded like an ice cream truck was coming through, or circus music; but who drives an ice cream truck and sits in front of someone's house at 4 in the morning? I will never forget that night.
Being woken up every time I even got close to drifting to sleep, the music, being paralyzed by the fear of getting out of my bed and what might be waiting for me. I later came to know these figures as "The Man with the Hat" and "The Tall Dark Figure". There was a third entity that stayed in the basement of the house that my brothers and I all saw at one time or another, crawling up the stairs to the kitchen, slowly. A part of me wants to go back to that house and face my fears, but in reality, re-telling this story brings me down to my knees in fear and uncertainty.
On the paranormal side of things, I grew up in a house that was (years after we moved in) found to have a hidden torture chamber behind a false wall in the basement. A lot of unexplained things happened during the 14 years we lived there. One that particularly stands out happened when I was in my last year of elementary school. My youngest brother left when my mom went to work and she would drop him off at pre-school. My other siblings all were in junior high or high school, and left earlier than me, as their school started an hour earlier than mine. My father left before everyone, at 5 am every morning for work. So, I was always the last one to leave on school days.
One of my brothers, who was later diagnosed as bipolar, got into drugs the year before, so my parents put a deadbolt on their room to stop him from taking money/things to sell. It was always locked when they left, and this morning was no exception. I left as usual, got about a block and a half away, and realized I'd forgotten my math book. I ran back. I'd been gone 3, maybe 4 minutes, but upon opening the door, so much had changed! My parents bedroom door was wide open, the stereo on (it hadn't been on when I left). The door beside their dresser, which led to a 2nd story porch was also open. Nobody in the room, nobody on the porch.
Worse, though, was the door to the attic being open. It was never left open. I peered through the doorway, and halfway up the stairs was our dog. She was a teacup poodle, small and very sweet...but right now she was standing, shaking on the stairs, her teeth bared, emitting a very low growl. I went up as quietly as I could, keeping my eye on the dark blob of shadows at the top of the stairs. I'd just gotten to where I could reach her, when it felt like a breeze hit me, carrying a sickly sweet but rotten smell, not unlike the bottom of a well-used garbage can. There were no open windows in the attic. I reached down to pick up the dog, and when I looked up again, the shadow blob had moved. Scared now, I snatched the dog and ran down the stairs, slamming the door shut. I ran down the other stairs to the first floor, still holding the dog, and out the door.
I never told anyone about it. When I went home that day, my parents made no mention of their door being open or the stereo on, so I'm guessing that things were set right before they got there. For the rest of that school year, I went to my friend's house every morning to walk to school with her after my siblings left.
When I was 16 and learning how to drive, I had something happen to me that I can't explain and still creeps me out a bit to this day.
I was out in a driving school vehicle with the driving instructor. We were probably an hour into the two hour session. It wasn't my first time driving and it wasn't my first time driving with one of the school's instructors, so I was pretty calm and relaxed and pretty much knew what I was doing at this point.
Anyway, we're headed down this road and approaching a Stop sign. It's still light enough to see what's coming without headlights so it's not like it's hard to see. I was probably going maybe 35-40 mph. It was in a residential area, but on the edge of it. No homes were along the road I was traveling or down the cross street with at the stop sign. It was a 4-way stop because as we approached, I remembered seeing people stopped on the cross-street waiting.
Maybe 200-300 yards away from the Stop sign, the driving instructor says to me "Make sure you stop at the sign ahead."
I think to myself "Why would just remind me to Stop at the sign?" And then say out loud "Yep!" just to humor her and be nice. It's still pretty far away, so it was a pretty odd reminder.
The next moment I consciously remember is being on the same road but being 200-300 yards past the Stop sign. I don't remember stopping. I don't even know if I did or not. I have no memory of it. (We've all had the auto-pilot thing where you just suddenly realize you're 5 miles down the road on the interstate going 60 mph...but this isn't that kind of experience.)
Just as my conscious mind picks up and realizes that we're past the stop sign and I have no memory of the past 2-3 minutes, the driving instructor turns to me and says "Did we Stop at the sign?" I looked over at her, and we both knew.
We didn't even need to say it. We both knew. It didn't need to be discussed.
Neither of us remembered if we stopped at that stop sign. We don't know what happened for those 2-3 minutes.
I went to the very top of Breckinridge, a part where you have to hike to get to. This was labeled as extreme terrain. Unfortunately I dropped in where there were too many rocks and boulders to get down. There wasn't much snow that season.
I couldn't find a clear path to get down that I could get to, so I did something very stupid and took off my board to try and walk to a place where there was a clear path down. I slipped and slid down like 40 to 50 feet of rocks, boulders, and snow. It really seemed to go in slow motion. It's the only time in my life where I genuinely thought I was going to die.
When I reached the bottom I was surprisingly not hurt at all. It must have been my adrenaline. All I had was a big tear in my jacket and a sore ass. I was so relieved that I wasn't hurt that I laid down in the snow. Then I heard people saying, "Oh my god!" and some just screaming. So I sat back up immediately because I was thinking, "they probably think I just died." Eventually I just grabbed my board and snowboarded down the rest of the mountain. I was more embarrassed than anything, and pretty grateful I wasn't dead.
Years ago my parents were out of town and I had about 9 people over at the time. It was about 9 or 10 pm and someone brought over the game Prototype. We had all the lights off and were just passing the controller around just messing around before we went out for the night. Everyone was just chilling, all of a sudden we heard loud foot steps and saw someone get up from the couch and go to the bathroom. We didn't think much of it (just someone going to the bathroom). Thats when we all looked around and everyone was still in the room. Everyone saw it and just looked at each other in shock, no one saw it directly but from our peripheral view we all agreed it looked like a civil war solider or something similar of that time . We all got up and went down the hall and it was super cold. Nothing else happened that night but everyone was freaking out.
I grew up in a haunted house. I never want to experience any of that again....EVER. The scariest thing that I can remember is when I was about 8 or 9, I remember waking up sometime in the middle of the night and heard the noise. Our house was small and we didn't have any fans going that made any noise so we could hear everything throughout the house. What I did hear was down the hallway on top of the washing machine. We played board games that night and left them on top of the washer. When I woke up that night I kept hearing the wheel from the game Life spinning and spinning. I put the blankets over my head and fell asleep that way.
I was once home by myself and washing dishes when I heard the wood floor creaking behind me like someone was walking on it. I spun around, no one was there. I went back to washing dishes and there were a few creaks closer. I turned around and asked whatever it was to stop. It did.
Like a lot of kids, I had an imaginary friend until I was about 9 or 10. I don't remember playing with him, but I do vaguely remember going to see a psychiatrist about him. I described him as looking like me (red hair, glasses) and having the same birthday as I do, and I called him G because my first name starts with a G, according to my mother. As I grew up, G faded away.
Fast forward to my 20th birthday. I came home from college for a dinner with my parents and younger siblings. We're joking around about our childhoods when my sister mentions G. My dad gets quiet and my mom goes pale. She demands we drop the subject. The next day, after my siblings had gone, my parents sit me down and explain that I had a twin brother who died when we were about a year old; he had a congenital heart problem and passed away during surgery. They had elected not to tell me, although they couldn't really explain why. My mom kept the letters G and I wrote to each other (mostly scribbles) and all the pictures I drew of he and I playing. She thinks I was with my brother.
When I was about 10, I went on summer vacation to the black sea with my mom. I couldn't swim back then, and never learned after what happened.
I was our first day there and we went out for a swim, my mom got me those inflatable things you put on your arms. The plan was to enjoy the day and I was excited to learn how to swim. The weather wasn't too great, but the water felt okay. It all changed very fast. We got pulled away from the shore by a rip current and the sea was about to storm. The waves got higher and no matter how hard we tried to get back on sand, the sea only pulled us further and further away and to the side. And on the side was a concrete wave breaker. My mom started getting physically tired and I could see sparks of panic in her eyes. We held to the concrete and there was no way to get away from the water and on top of the pier. The waves were getting stronger and stronger, all the people from the beach disappeared, we shouted "help!", but even if someone was nearby they wouldn't hear us. The waves were very loud, smashing against concrete underneath the pier just a couple feet away. Suddenly, a lady appears in the water next to us, we had no idea where she came from. She tells us that there's a ladder on the other side of the pier and, while we're doing our best to hold on to the metal on the side of the pier, she disappears. Again, we didn't see where she went. The waves are at its hardest, and the only way for us to survive is to swim underneath the pier where the waves are hitting the concrete. We have just one chance at it, we patiently wait for a few-second window between the waves, swim under the pier to the other side and find a ladder. Up to this day we don't know who the woman was, but she saved our lives, and that day I decided that I'm going to make sure my life was worth saving.
I was at a cabin trip for a weekend with my uncle and his friends, i had just turned 13 and he wanted to take me on a "man trip" so they were having beers and relaxing after a good snowboarding session, so i asked him if i could have a beer, he just threw a six pack at me and sai "drink all you want" and i had like 5 beers, and started feeling a little dizzy (as i now call it "drunk") so i went outside the cabin for a piss, and it was dark as fuck and we were in the middle of the woods with no lights, i was pissing and started walking in the wrong direction, it was dark as f**k and it was snow everywhere so i couldnt find the cabin, i started panicking and running around the woods for about 20 minutes, i was so afarid i started crying, after a while i heard a car coming, i ran out to see if he could drive me back, it was a pickup truck with a weird looking man in it he asked me what happened i told him i was at a red cabin not far from here, he told me to wait in his car while he called the cops, i entered his truck he took out the keys and locked the car and left, the car was pretty old, so i couldnt open it without keys, and the inside locks were busted, i thought was gonna get killed and cut into little pieces the car was filled with porn mags and beer, i have never been so scared ever. i was in the car for about 15 minutes then he came back with my uncle and his friends, opened the car and let me go. I was so glad to still be alive. They weird guy was just laughing and told me to "wait a couple of years with the alcohol" and left. My uncle gave me 50 euros and told me to never say anything about this to my parents.
So in april 2011 i went to see the movie insidious. That old lady that followed the main character really stuck in my memory. skip forward a few months, pretty much forgotten about the film, my friend links me to a picture showing how to have a lucid dream. I had been interested in the subject so thought i would try it out when i went to bed. Ended up having a bad allergic reaction (hayfever) at about 4pm so i lay down on my bed with a wet towel on my face to recover. i decide i might as well try to lucid dream then as im lying down anyway. Anyway, after lying on my bed completely motionless for about 20-30 mins i began to imagine my room, but at night, and with the woman from insidious standing at the bottom of my bed. S**t. me. up. I tried really hard to stand up, but felt pinned to the bed, took me a good 20 seconds to get up. that was my first experience with her.
I lived in a student house last year and we would go sit under the stairs at night and use ghost calling apps on our phones and we would all get paranoid. but one time we left the room and decided to play a game of "crazy wheel" and my 2 friends ended up having to slow dance to the song "everybody hurts" they got half way through the song and then we paused the music to move on and closed the laptop. we eventually went back under the stairs hours later, within 5 minutes of chasing ghosts, we hear the voice loudly singing "everybody hurts!" and then abruptly shuts off. we run out of the room, and check the laptop to find that it was still closed and when we opened it the song was not even loaded to the spot where those words are said. we could not replicate it
Had someone try to break into the house while my parents were out at dinner. My brother and I were home alone - I was about fourteen at the time and he was nine. I was gaming in my room and my bro came to tell me he'd heard something at the back door.
So, to reassure him, I went to the back door and listened. Heard something skittering on the back deck. I assumed it was a cat. Then I heard heavy creaking, and the doorknob rattled.
NOPE NOPE NOPE. Ran to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife I could find. Went back to the door, unlocked it and opened it very slowly. The back yard was empty.
Funny thing was, my teenager mind at the time said, "Well, everything's okay now!" I locked the door and went back to gaming. When my parents got home a few hours later and we told them the story, they were horrified that we hadn't called them or the police immediately.
My mum used to work long hours, so growing up it wasn't uncommon for her to leave me and my sister by ourselves. Anyway, one night we were downstairs watching TV when we heard banging from upstairs. We thought that perhaps the cats were fighting, so we went up to sort them out. However when we were upstairs we realized that the shower was on and the door was locked. We went back downstairs and huddled together, convinced we were about to die. After hearing more banging, my sister decides to brave it and gets the spare key to the bathroom. She opened the door to find the bathroom window wide open and the shower on full blast. We still don't know what happened that night. Gives me shivers thinking about it though.
I grew up in a large suburb outside of Houston. It was during the early 90s when a lot of farmland settled by the original German immigrants was being bought up by developers and turned into new homes. My family lived at the very end of our subdivision, and past my house was a great expanse of farmland, flanked by thick woods, and old decaying wooden shacks from the 1800s.
Every day on my walk home from school I would pass by a particularly overgrown old shack, which I guess must have at some point been a house, which leaned like it would fall over at any minute on its tired old foundation, and just beyond it was a long row of fence. It was my daily commute to and from elementary school, and I’d walk by it, pick up interesting rocks and things, and I never thought much of it. There was always construction while the subdivision was expanding, so they had dug long trenches for what I suppose was for sewer, and erected electrical lines through the farmland.
Beyond the fence was a small lake, which I had often snuck in to explore and catch frogs, but after an encounter with a water moccasin, which is a species of pit viper, I decided to stay clear of it. The farm had cows which would meander through the meadow, and one large black horse.
A storm had rolled in during the previous night, and I remember that the clouds were so thick and black that it felt like night when I had arrived at school. It didn’t take long before the storm was in full force, and the power had gone out at school. Our teacher decided to have us all sit together on the floor and read to us for the rest of the day, which was fine by me.
The storm had passed, but the darkness lingered when I got out of school. I walked the now muddy path in the strange darkness past the crooked house, and beside the aging fence, each step becoming more and more difficult as the mud collected on my shoes. That’s when I heard a thrashing. The cows weren’t there, but I remember clearly that old black horse. I remember thinking that it was sick, or injured, or something.
Its black coat was slick, and steam was rising off its body in the cold air. It was kicking its back legs wildly, and violently slamming its face into the muck. It had a weird look to it, not like it was panicking, but like it was calm, and it didn’t look to be out of breath. Again it slammed its head into the mud, and kicked out its legs, then shook its head from side to side furiously. I stopped to watch it; looking back I wish I had just kept walking. I remember that after a minute or two it stopped and looked up at me, the grime sliding off of its face.
It must have been in a matter of a second, because I had no time to react, and the horse had charged towards me. It didn’t jump over the fence, but instead lowered its massive head and tore through the gap between the fence boards.
The wood cracked and splintered as its muscled body strained and its long neck extended through the gap. The horse savagely lashed out and started snapping at me. With its entire body covered in huge, swollen muscles it would recoil then slam all of its weight back into the fence, attempting to break the boards. It did that again, and again. Its enormous, broad teeth came inches from me, and I fell out of my shoes backwards, leaving them stuck in the mud. It’s a miracle that the fence was holding it back.
I could see it clearly now, the horse was burned, badly. The skin around its mouth had been seared off, and tendrils of pink, bloody skin snaked its way over its face like a spiderweb. The absence of skin made its teeth seem even larger, its black gums exposed, and its mouth frothing with spit that I could feel hitting me in the face. At that moment I was absolutely terrified that this horse would kill me. I remember wanting to get up, but the thick mud had me trapped.
I also remember the smell. It was like sulfur—a mixture of wet animal, burned meat, and singed hair. But what has stuck with me the most were its eyes. They were cloudy like black ink poured into milk. As it struggled to reach me through the fence its nostrils flared, and I could feel the heat of its breath on me, its teeth snapping shut over and over, the clacking noise of the heavy teeth slamming together was deafening.
I left my shoes and ran home. I remember my mother screaming at me about the mud when I stormed in. I told her about the horse that had nearly killed me, and that I had left my shoes there in the mud. She grabbed me by the arm and was going to make me take her back there to get them, but I cried and screamed not to go, so she went alone.
When she got back she had my muddy old sneakers in her hands, and she told me that she saw the horse. It was dead. A farmhand was dragging its body behind a tractor, and he told my mom that the horse had died earlier that day. One of the power lines that had been installed running through the meadow was knocked over during the storm, and the horse must have been near the lake, because it had been electrocuted and killed. He said that it had died instantly beside that lake when the power went out hours ago.
One of my close friends lived next to a house that was always vacant. It would sell, people would move in, and then one day they'd be gone and the house would be up for sale again. One summer, when the house was listed again and the last family had moved out, we decided to go take a tour and eat some Jack in the Box we had picked up. We weren't very smart sometimes and thought it would be cool to play chicken with whatever was haunting this house. My friend was really skinny and crawled through the dog door that led straight into the kitchen, then opened the back door for me. We went through all of the rooms and it was pretty nondescript, just a typical 50s style bungalow house with a similar layout to his home, lots of pretty woodwork and built-ins. After we determined that the house really wasn't that creepy after all, we sat down in the dining area, on the floor, across from a little horseshoe shaped nook with a kitchen table and built-in bench. It was dusk out but the windows didn't have curtains and it never got that dark in our city, anyway. At this point, we had been in the house for maybe 25 minutes and after we finished eating we stayed sitting just to hang out and talk since we weren't spooked out at all. All of a sudden, mid-sentence, completely out of nowhere, my vision went black and I felt this eery coldness wash all over me (I'm getting chills thinking about it), a feeling so thick I felt like it penetrated my through my body down to my bones. At the very same moment this happened, my friend screamed. I virtually could not see anything and was groping around trying to find something to grab onto and I felt so unsettled and ..cold. There's really no other word for it. After what felt like hours, I felt my friend's hands in mine and he pulled me to my feet and drug me through the house to the back door. He kept pulling on my arm and I still couldn't see anything. We got outside and slowly ..you know that feeling when you get a whole body shiver and it runs down your spine? As soon as I was outside, that's what I felt, except this was a whole body shiver that started at the tip of my toes and went all the way up to my scalp, and unexpectedly and suddenly I could see again. My friend was as pale as a sheet and looked absolutely terrified. I felt off and sort of, gross, I guess is the best word, and in shock. I told him that I couldn't see at all until I was outside, that it felt like I had been enveloped in blackness. He was just staring at me and I finally asked him why he had screamed. He hugged me and told me that he pulled me out of the house as soon as I started reaching around like I was blind because a little girl who was completely black, and yet see through, crawled out from under the table we were across from and sat on top of me.
I woke up to a scratching and rustling noise in my room. I thought that someone had broken into the house and was in my room, so I laid still for about ten minutes as the noise continued. Then music from the music box on my shelf started playing. I flipped over in bed and no one was there, my bedroom door was closed, and my dog was standing at the other side of the room staring at the bookcase where my music box was. I got out of bed and saw that the drawer had been pulled out, hence the slow scraping noise, and that it had finally be pulled out enough to trigger the music. It was on a flat surface so it couldn't have slowly slipped and it was too high for my dog to reach even if he had the capability of being able to bother it.