WOMAN IN THE WINDOW

The image is said to bear an eerie resemblance of Frances Grimshaw, who worked at the guesthouse and stood for hours at the same window taking bookings.

David Grimshaw, a former resident at the property, said he was convinced the figure is the ghost of his mother, who died nearly a year ago aged 87.

He believes her spirit may have appeared to protest at the demolition of Meadowbank House, which she adored.

"That is my mother. I'm totally convinced – no one else looks like that. She had glasses and big earrings and she used to wear a dress with a bow at the front," he said.

"She used to stand in that room for hours on the phone – it was the guesthouse reception and she took bookings from there.”

Mr Grimshaw, 59, a managing director, who now lives in Bedford, said: "She would have been horrified if she had known the house was being demolished because it was beautiful, so maybe that is why she's turned up."

Demolition supervisor Robert Johnson, 38, of Heysham, took the photograph of the house shortly before it was knocked down, earlier this week but it was only later that he noticed the ghostly figure.

"It wasn't until I got home and showed my wife that we spotted the woman," he said.

"You can see the jewellery on her and everything. I've always been a sceptic but I'll have to believe in ghosts now."

Colleague Stuart Shan, 34, from Blackburn, Lancashire, said: "The day before we took the photo we were stripping the building inside and I noticed the chandelier swinging on its own.

"We said at the time the place felt strange. My hairs were standing on end when I saw the photo. I believe it is a ghost."

Dave Armstrong, of Kendal contractors Cox and Allen, said the five-gabled building, which was originally a dentist's in the early 1900s, has been taken down to be replaced with a new commercial property.

He said he could not explain the image of the woman. "There was only a black wall behind the window, we had taken everything out – there were no visible features or anything with a skin colour."

THE VOICE

About six years ago my brother lived in a house in North Miami, Oklahoma. He would sit in his living room and watch TV at night and occasionally feel a presence in the hallway.

His six-month-old daughter slept in the room to the right side of the hallway. Weeks went by and he felt more disturbed by this presence. He would walk into his daughter's room (she would wake up crying in the middle of the night for no reason) and feel unnaturally cold.

So he told my mother, her friend, and I about what was happening. We came over one night when everyone was gone and brought two baby monitors. We put one in my niece's room and one in the living room with us.

After some time the flame of the candle we had lit began to sway. No wind was in the house. We talked to the monitor, hoping to get a response. After some time we heard old-style music and a voice say, "You don't know what hell is like."

It freaked us out and we ran out of the house frantically. We only went back after my uncle (a former priest) blessed the house. We later found out that an elderly man had lived in the house. He had also died in this house. 

He hung himself in my niece's room.

Story source.

CREEP

When I was 13, my mother and I stopped at her friend's house to pick up something. I sat in the living room while she talked to her friend in the kitchen. While sitting there on the couch, a lady walked into the room and sat in a chair across the room. She said hello and asked my name. I smiled and spoke back. She asked me how old I was and, well, we chatted for about 5 minutes. 

She told me that Marcy (the lady we were visiting) always lost her jewelry around the house when she was a little girl. Up until the age of 14. She said that she found all of it and put it in a box that was under the back right leg of the chair she was sitting in. She said I should tell Marcy where it was because she forgot to do it and it would make her happy. She then got up and walked towards the kitchen. She stopped and asked me if I wanted some cookies and I said yes. A few minutes later I heard her say, "Come and get your cookies, dear." I got up and went into the kitchen and saw my mother and Marcy there. I didn't see any cookies, but I saw a door that lead down stairs to the basement, so I looked down the stairs.  

My mother asked me what was wrong and I said I was looking for the cookies. Marcy then said, "Oh, I'll get you some cookies." I told her that the lady already got them and they gave me a weird look. I told them about the lady and my mother said I must have went to sleep and dreamed about it. They gave me my cookies and some milk and sent me away. 

Marcy walked through the room and took my empty glass and plate from me. I asked her if she knew where her lost jewelry was.  

She smiled and said, "What jewelry?"  

I told her what the lady told me and she looked scared. She got upset and told my mother, and my mother got upset with me. Marcy said that there was no one else in the house. They were standing over me telling me to stop making stuff up, so I got up and checked the floor board under the chair. I pulled out a box and opened it. I said, "See, this is what you lost." I handed Marcy the box. She was still crying when we left. 

Later she called my mother and asked that she never bring me to her house again. She also told my mother that there were another plate of cookies on the kitchen table and she knows that she gave me the only plate she put out.

Story source.

Image source. 

HELL'S BRIDGE

In the mid 1800s, when towns began to emerge in a wooded area of Michigan, children went missing. It left the improvised towns in shambles; all work and expansion stopped. The townsfolk turned to their church to find comfort and answers. In attendance was the enigmatic Elias Friske. He seemed to be a kind, older man with a fondness for children. He asked to preach that day.

Elias preached of hellfire and brimstone, and of demons that surrounded the town. He demanded the congregation's prayers, or else the demons would return and take more children into the dark abyss. With renewed purpose after hearing Elias preach, the town organized a search party to find the children, and to hunt the dark souls that took them. The townsfolk believed that Elias was too old and frail to join the search. They asked him to watch the town's remaining children. Elias agreed and told the search party he would take the children on a picnic, near the Rogue River. Elias explained that if the search party came back with bodies in tow, the children would be spared the horror.

Elias tied rope around each child's waist, creating a human chain that Elias led. “We don't want to loose any more,” Elias jokingly said. The children waved their tiny hands as they watched their parents head off in the opposite direction. Elias began their march into the woods.

The walk to the river was long, and the children soon tired. They asked Elias to take a break, but Elias harshly tugged on the rope leading them further into the woods. The children became frightened and begged Elias to stop, but he continued to drag them along. Soon, the children noticed a strange and horrible odor. Elias deeply inhaled the stench.

Elias pushed the children up against a tree and tethered them to it with the rope. He shambled over to a pile of leaves and uncovered the source of the smell. It was the missing children, skinned and beginning to rot. The children began to scream and cry, but the search party was miles away, far out of hearing distance.

One by one, Elias destroyed their young lives, forcing the living to watch each cut, to hear each bone break. After Elias finished his murdering rampage, he awoke from his bloodlust and realized the impact of what he had done. He could not return to town. He had to escape.

Elias threw the bodies of the children into the Rogue River and he fled further into the woods.

It was dark when the townspeople returned to town. Elias and the children had not returned. It took only moments for the townspeople to realize the ruse devised by Elias Friske. Fearing what darkness may be unleashed onto the children, the search party rushed into the woods where Elias had marched.

They arrived at the recently built bridge to cross the unpredictable Rogue River. There, gathered underneath the bridge in the icy waters, were the mutilated bodies of their children. Among the screams and wails, one young man noticed a pair of muddy footprints leading further into the woods. He sprinted in their direction and he eventually found Elias Friske, stained with blood.

The young man dragged Elias back to the bridge. Elias screamed about how demons had taken control of him and that he deserved pity. The magistrate simply responded, "Hang that son of a bitch."

The rope with which Elias had bound the children was recovered and tied around his neck. The townspeople, without ceremony, hung him off of the bridge. After Elias' body stopped twitching, it's said that the waters underneath him swelled, and snapped the rope from which Elias hung. His body was swept away down-river never to be recovered.

Today, the Rogue River is a popular place for young people to spend a leisurely afternoon riding an inner tube down its waters. Often they are frightened out of the river by what they have described as hands grabbing their feet from underneath the water. The hands seem to tug, attempting to pull the victim beneath. Expecting to see a pranking friend emerge from the waters, they soon realize that they are alone. Many have made their way back to the mouth of the river in tears after experiencing this frightening event.

The bridge from which Elias was hung is now known as “Hell's Bridge.” People have reported hearing the sound of children, at times laughing, at other times screaming. Disembodied footsteps are often heard in the area of the bridge. Many people have said that they have felt like they were followed through the woods.

Most activity seems to happen around midnight – around the time that Elias would have been hung. Hell's Bridge has acquired its name because many people have reported the sounds of demonic laughter erupting from all directions around this hour. The laughing is often accompanied by a dark apparition standing on the bridge, its eyes glowing red.

TRICK

One night, a young girl was lying in bed, just on the verge of falling asleep, when she heard her mother calling her name from the kitchen. She went downstairs to see what her mother wanted, but as she was passing by the cupboard under the stairs, the door opened and a hand reached out and dragged her in. It was her mother, hiding in the cupboard. 

“Don't go into the kitchen,” whispered her mother. “I heard it calling my name too.”

A CLEVER IDEA

Martin Sheets was a wealthy businessman who lived in Terra Haute, Indiana in the early 1900's. One of his greatest fears was that of a premature burial. He often dreamed of being awake, but unable to move, at the moment the doctor pronounced him dead and then regaining consciousness while trapped in a coffin below the ground. Sheets decided to fight his fears by investing some of his resources in the prevention of his being buried alive.

First of all, he had a casket custom-designed with latches fitted on the inside. In this way, should he be placed inside prematurely, he would be able to open the coffin and escape. He also began construction on a mausoleum so that when he died, or was thought to have died, he would not be imprisoned under six feet of dirt. The mausoleum was well built and attractive but Sheets realized that even if he did manage to escape from his casket, he would still be trapped inside of a stone prison.

He came up with another clever idea. He installed a telephone inside of the tomb with a direct line to the main office of the cemetery. In this way, he could summon help by simply lifting the receiver. The line was fitted with an automatic indicator light so that even if no words were spoken, the light would come on in the office and help would soon be on the way.

Death came for Martin Sheets in 1910 and he was entombed in the mausoleum. I would imagine that for several days afterward, cemetery staff workers kept a close eye on the telephone indicator light in the office. After more time passed though, it was probably forgotten. Years went by and the telephone system in the area changed. Eventually, the direct line to the cemetery office was removed but thanks to very specific instructions in Sheets will, and the money to pay for it, the telephone in the mausoleum remained connected and active.

A number of years later, Sheets widow also passed away. She was discovered one day lying on her bed with the telephone clutched in her hand. In fact, she held the receiver so tightly that it had to be pried from her fingers. It was soon learned that she had experienced a severe stroke and family members assumed that she had been trying to call an ambulance when she finally died. A service was held and after a quiet memorial service, she was taken to the family mausoleum, where she would be interred next to her husband.

When cemetery workers entered the mausoleum, they received the shock of their lives. Nothing there was disturbed, they saw, except for one, very chilling item. Martin Sheets telephone, locked away for all of these years, was hanging from the wall...its receiver inexplicably off the hook.

CREEP

When I was about 4, I was sitting alone in the living room playing with marbles. One of them rolled under the couch, and I stuck my hand as far under as I could to find it. I couldn't find it, so I withdrew my hand... and a black, withered, feminine hand reached out from under the couch after me. I remember it clearly. I sat there, too young to really know how batshit insane this was, but I remember thinking to myself "this is not right." I sat there dumbfounded and watched it; it groped around, then withdrew. Then it emerged again, pushing some plastic wrappers at me, as if it was trying to give them to me. When I didn't take them, it withdrew again, taking the trash with it, and was gone.

I got up very calmly and walked to my mother in the kitchen, at the other side of the house, and told her, "Mommy, a hand just reached out from under the couch." She got an odd look on her face, of course, but I was a very quiet, obedient kid who did not tell stories. She told me that was impossible and walked back to the living room with me, and even reached her hands under the couch to show me there was nothing there. Later, my dad came home and lifted the couch, and all that was under there was my marbles, and some random trash.

For years, I discounted this as just a vivid dream I had had when I was a child; obviously I didn't believe it really happened. But years later, when I was like 18, I mentioned it to my mother in recollection. She surprised me by saying that, no, it actually happened; she remembered me coming to her that afternoon and telling her about the hand under the couch. She said it had disturbed her greatly, and was the reason they had thrown the couch out soon after, because she had bought the couch second hand, and the seller told her that an elderly black lady had died on it.

Story and image source unknown.

HELPFUL GUARD

Being a night guard in a hospital is not so hard, except for the fact that sometimes you get so scared that you keep on imagining things. I tried to console myself that the weeping I heard was in my own head. 

But it wasn’t so easy.  

I finally got curious and went ahead to check. The weeping sound was increasing as I neared the operation theater. I went nearer, but didn’t find anything. I sighed and was about to retreat when I saw a small boy hiding behind a potted plant. He wasn’t wearing any clothes. I thought he was cold so I offered him my jacket. He took it.  

“What are you doing here at this hour? Did you get lost?”  

“I can't find my mother,” he said still crying.  

“Don’t cry,” I said and picked him up. “I will find you for her. Tell me the room number.”

“I don’t know the room, but I can show you where she is kept. Please take me.” 

He had stopped crying and I took him. He kept on giving me directions. I was amazed. He didn’t have a doubt where to go.  

We reached a room and he said that this was it. But to my surprise, it was the morgue.  

I took him in. I don’t know why, but the boy was so mesmerizing that I took him there without any second thoughts. 

He pointed towards a corpse cupboard numbered 453 and said, “please put me in there.” 

My mind was so numb I didn’t realize what I was doing. I pulled the cupboard. Inside it laid the beautiful, lifeless body of a woman. I put the boy in and closed the cupboard. 

"Thank you," he said.  

I was about to leave when I realized I had lost my mind. I quickly opened locker 453. But it was empty. No small boy, no female corpse. Only my jacket lay there. There was a patient profile beneath that. 

It read: 

Anna Adams: Died of heart attack when she heard the death of her son during operation. 

Below that was the picture of her son. Alex Adams.  

The same boy was smiling at me from the photo.

SEVEN STEPS

There was an apartment that had one room where no one stayed for very long. Everyone left within one week of renting it. The room was on the first floor in the corner of the building and you could reach it by climbing a flight of stairs with seven steps. The landlord felt uncomfortable about the whole affair and it bothered him a lot, but one day he got a tenant who stayed well over a week. That made the landlord happy, but just to make sure everything was alright, he went to the room to check on the tenant. But no one responded to the landlord's knockings. The landlord felt something was amiss and he rang up the police. When the police arrived they broke into the room together. Inside, they found the tenant's dead body.  The cause of the death was unclear and to find out what had happened the police then went around asking for information. They managed to talk to some of the previous tenants of the room but none of them was willing to talk about the room. However in the end they managed to get one person talking. His story went like this: 

Every night a child's voice was heard. On the first night after the tenant moved in, the voice said: "Oooone step Iiii've cliiiimbed..."  

He wondered what it was but nothing else happened and so he just ignored it. But the next day he heard the same voice say: "Twooo steps Iiii've cliiiiimbed..."  

On the third day it said: "Threee steps Iiii've cliiiiiimbed..."  

And so it went on the same way, on the fourth, the fifth and the sixth day. The voice was clearly getting closer. There were only seven steps on the stairs. All previous tenants ran away fearing what might happen if it reached the seventh step.  

And it appears the only person who knows the answer to that is the dead tenant.

 

Image source.

SS OURANG MEDAN

In February, 1948, distress calls were picked up by numerous ships near Indonesia, from the Dutch freighter SS Ourang Medan. The chilling message was, “All officers including captain are dead lying in chartroom and bridge. Possibly whole crew dead.” This message was followed by indecipherable Morse code then one final grisly message… “I die.” When the first rescue vessel arrived on the scene a few hours later, they tried to hail the Ourang Medan but there was no response. A boarding party was sent to the ship and what they found was a frightening sight that has made the Ourang Medan one of the strangest and scariest ghost ship stories of all time.

All the crew and officers of the Ourang Medan were dead, their eyes open, faces looking towards the sun, arms outstretched and a look of terror on their faces. Even the ship’s dog was dead, found snarling at some unseen enemy. When nearing the bodies in the boiler room, the rescue crew felt a chill, though the temperature was near 110°F. The decision was made to tow the ship back to port, but before they could get underway, smoke began rolling up from the hull. The rescue crew left the ship and barely had time to cut the tow lines before the Ourang Medan exploded and sank.

To this day, the exact fate of the Ourang Medan and her crew remains a mystery.

Image source.

THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPH

One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until school let out. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye. His desk was next to the window, and he turned and looked to the grass outside. It looked like a picture.

When school was over, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran fast so that no one else could grab it. He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.

She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said "No." He was devastated.

When he was home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said "No."

It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table and went to sleep.

In the middle of the night Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up, and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone.

The next day he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, "Sorry, no."

When his mother came home he even asked her if she knew her. She said "No."

He went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.

Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He walked across the road when he was suddenly hit by a car. He died instantly, picture in hand.

The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. He saw the picture and picked it up.

He saw a beautiful girl holding up three fingers.

Image source.

MORE BLACK-EYED KIDS

My husband, and our two-year-old son and I went to a used bookstore about two hours from our house in Tucson, Arizona this last Saturday (04/23/2011.) I followed my son as we walked back into the children's area.

He rounded the corner to the aisle with the books. I saw a girl stand, not moving, a little ways down the aisle staring in our direction. Then my husband walked up to us. As he came closer, she did as well, following behind him.

My son ran off toward a table and my husband followed. The girl walked up and got right next to me within inches, almost touching. I started to feel extremely uneasy and moved away to where my husband and son stood at the table. They were both looking down at a Mickey Mouse doll which I tried to talk to my son about.

As I was looking down, I saw movement coming up behind me out of the corner of my eye. It was the girl. I noticed her clothing looked from about the 1960s and she looked very out of place. She was also overdressed with multiple coats on in a normal temperature environment.

She walked in a circling pattern, with her head down in a predatory way, the way a panther stalks its prey. As I stared at her while, she walked slowly. I distinctly remember she did not make a sound when she moved. Which now I am thinking was odd, because she had a lot of clothing on and a bag with her.

Her eyes were all black, no whites of her eyes, no pupils. She stared coldly, devoid of emotion, and you could feel the evil radiating off of her. I remember as I made eye contact with her, I had the very distinct feeling that she was not human. I had a feeling that she was something evil in a human shell.

I felt the most amount of terror and most threatened I have ever felt. I also felt like I was the food at the bottom of the food chain and I was her next meal. I definitely had a fight-or-flight response after I was able to pull my eyes away from hers. I remember thinking I had to get away and I had to protect my family.

I tugged on my husband's shirt and grabbed my son and started to pull them away. My husband asked why; I said we need to just go. I remember thinking it was very important that she didn't know we were leaving because we were afraid of her. We went to the other side of the store (if we were smart we would have left immediately).

My husband walked off to electronics and my son and I stood in front of a bookshelf full of board games. There was an aisle right behind us for magazines. Then I heard a man that was leaning down toward my son say in a very low tone, "I see you... she can't hear you, but I can."

I didn't turn around; I was too scared. I grabbed my son and dashed away. I now believe he was one of the black-eyed people too and they were there together. I went to the car with my son and just felt this heaviness of evil that almost felt like it had stuck to me until I went to bed that night.

 Origin of source unknown.

BLACK-EYED KIDS

The parking garage in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, looked safe enough when David Jenkins pulled downtown on a winter’s day in 2008. Jenkins drove forty minutes from his home in nearby York, Pennsylvania, into this city of about 500,000 people to meet a friend he hadn’t seen in a year. He didn’t know evil would greet him when the sun went down.

Jenkins wound his way through the crowded garage and found a parking spot on the third floor. Then he walked to his friend’s apartment building. “We hung out and played PS2, bullshitted over old times, had a few beers,” Jenkins said. “I left at about 12:30 a.m. and went back to the garage for my car.”

Jenkins walked through the cold, now-deserted garage, climbed into his car and started the engine, letting it warm before he started home. As he leaned down to slip an “old school hip-hop” CD into the stereo, he discovered he wasn’t alone.

“A tapping on my window scared the shit out of me,” he said. Jenkins snapped his head toward the window and saw two people staring at him through the glass. “They seemingly came out of nowhere.”

Jenkins immediately turned up the volume. “I know this sounds stupid, but I thought maybe if these were thugs they’d think when they heard that music that I was hard, or something, and maybe be more apprehensive about mugging me, if that was the intent,” he said.

Instead of anyone threatening, he found two pale boys about twelve years old standing in the cold, staring at him through the glass. One boy was taller than the other, and both were skinny. They looked out of place. “The first thing that struck me as odd was their attire,” Jenkins said. “It was ‘80s clothing, only it looked brand new.”

One boy wore a new Montreal Expos baseball cap with a logo the team used between 1969 and 1991. The Expos haven’t existed since 2004. The Vision Street Wear skater hoodies they wore were popular in the 1980s. “What they were wearing just didn’t seem to fit with the time period,” Jenkins said.

The fear of the boys drawing a gun rushed through Jenkins mind. His door was unlocked. Hoping the boys didn’t notice, he rolled his window down a crack, and simply said, “yeah?”

The shorter boy Jenkins dubbed The Ringleader spoke first. “Excuse me,” he said in a voice much older and mature than what should have come out of that mouth. “We’ve had a slight mishap, and I was hoping you could help us out.”

The request froze Jenkins in his seat. “Those were the exact words too,” he said. “‘Slight mishap.’” Jenkins knew a twelve-year-old boy in a parking garage in Pennsylvania after midnight would have never said that. “I was nervous as hell,” he said.

The boy said their ride left them and they were now stuck in that part of town, and needed a lift home. “It seemed an innocent enough request,” Jenkins said. “But my BS alarm was going off. Something just felt really eerie about the whole thing. I mean two kids that young in a parking garage at that hour? It just wasn’t right.”

The fact the boys were in the garage also frightened Jenkins. He hadn’t seen the boys when he walked to his car, and when he got in suddenly they were there. The Ringleader’s request also made him nervous. “It just seemed shady,” Jenkins said. “I asked where exactly they lived, and that I was heading back to York. That ‘other end’ of Lancaster was in the opposite direction.”

Jenkins told the boys no. The Ringleader didn’t like that. “He said he’d give me gas money, and pulled out his wallet and took out a crisp $20 bill and held it up,” Jenkins said. “It was an old style one. An old style $20 should not be that crisp, looking fresh from the bank.”

As the strangeness of the encounter grew more in Jenkins’ mind, he started to ask questions. “Everything about this just felt very wrong,” he said. “I asked where exactly they lived.”

The Ringleader again said, “on the other side of town.”

“I asked where, specifically, on the other side of town,” Jenkins said. “I wanted the name of the township, the name of the school district, the name of the street. An exact address.”

The Ringleader balked; the other boy began to look nervous. “They couldn’t give me an answer,” Jenkins said. “This really creeped me out because it was now apparent that they really had no intention of getting a ride anywhere. They just wanted to get into my car.”

Then Jenkins saw something that kept him awake for the next two days. “I noticed something else – completely jet black eyes,” he said. The sight terrified him. Jenkins looked away from the children, trying to keep them from seeing the fear on his face.

The second child spoke to him. “Please,” he said. “Can we please get in the car? It’s really cold out here. I’ll tell you where to go once we get in.”

Panic consumed Jenkins.

“Please,” the smaller boy demanded.

“At this point it was fight or flight,” Jenkins said. “And I certainly wasn’t getting out of the car.”

He put the car in gear and told the kids “no” through the crack in the window. “Please, don’t go,” the Ringleader said, desperation creeping into his voice. “We’ll be stuck out here.”

“Sorry,” Jenkins said and started to pull away from these black-eyed children.

The tenor of the Ringleader’s voice changed. “Now, perhaps realizing their fate was sealed, they no longer held back,” Jenkins said. “The talkative shorter one’s voice changed now. No longer like that of a desperate little boy, it had a nasty snarl to it.”

The Ringleader started cursing at Jenkins as the car pulled away from them. Before Jenkins drove onto the ramp down to the lower level, he chanced a look in the rearview mirror. Terror stabbed at him anew, but it had nothing to do with the strange eyes of the boys. His fear came from something more human. “There was no trace of them,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking, ‘oh wow, they vanished,’ I was thinking, ‘shit, they’re gonna try to head me off at the next level down.’”

Worried the boys might run in front of his car at every turn, he hurried to the ground floor and shot onto the street. The black-eyed boys weren’t there. Three blocks away, his heart pounding in his chest, he stopped for a red light. “I kept looking back, scanning for them,” Jenkins said, but the strange boys weren’t behind him.

He sat in his car, still shivering from fear; the light stayed red. “It seemed like it was taking an unnaturally long time to change,” he said. “In fact I think now that those intersections are even supposed to be flashing red and yellow lights at that time of night.”

The minutes crawled by, and the light refused to change. Then he saw the black-eyed boys standing on a street corner he’d looked at not ten seconds before. “Sure enough, there they are,” Jenkins said. “I’d been looking around everywhere the entire time and didn’t see them coming. There’s just no way they could’ve gotten right on top of me without me seeing them coming.”

The Ringleader made eye contact with Jenkins and snarled. The second boy looked apprehensive “Even apologetic,” Jenkins said. “Like a good cop/bad cop routine or something.”

The boys started walking toward Jenkins’ car, and the panic again rose in his chest. The light still shown red. “There was nothing coming the other way and I just gunned it through the red light. I was hoping to God there’d be a cop.”

He didn’t encounter one police car on his fear-fueled drive home, running every red stoplight on his way. Once he reached the highway, he began to relax, but nothing went back to normal. “I didn’t sleep for like 48 hours after that, and didn’t sleep without a night light on for quite some time after,” Jenkins said. “When I finally did sleep they were in my dreams. I kept thinking that maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me that night, but after seeing other accounts, there are just too many similarities to write off. These things are very real.”

Source: Jason Offutt.

CREEP

A group of us are sitting in my friend's living room playing Xbox (Halo, nothing scary) and everyone's having a old good time. There's a couple of lamps on, but for the most part the room is dark, save for the screen glare. He lives alone, too, so there's no one about in the house, but he likes to keep the door closed to stop people's cigarettes from stinking out the rest of the place.

All of a sudden the door bursts open. There's no wind, but you could feel a sudden burst of atmosphere. One of the guys starts screaming and falls off the sofa. He then scrambles to his feet and presses himself up against the wall furthest away from the door uttering, "no... no..."

He was shaking quite badly and there were tears running down his face. We were mostly still laughing, thinking he was reacting to the game, but it became quickly apparent something was seriously up - it took about 20 minutes to calm him down after that. When we got him talkative, he says that a headless, limbless female torso was at the door when it opened and in his words, "came towards me. It wanted to kill me."

Creep.

CREEP

I've always been big on paranormal stuff. As a matter of fact, I've always been fascinated with anything that's unexplainable. So much that I used to go out looking for the stuff. So all of this time trying to find ghosts and I have failed miserably. That is until my older brother moved into an old, old house with about 4 of his buddies. 

When his friend first bought the house, all of the second floor windows were painted black. Yes, the actual glass was painted black. Well, apparently, a child was murdered there. He was hung in a closet on the second floor. The body of the child was wrapped in plastic (probably because of the smell) while still hanging in the closet. He wasn't found until after the family moved out of the house 4-6 months later, because he was actually hanging between two floors in the house. 

It was a big house with 3 floors, 3 bathrooms, and if I remember correctly, there were 7 bedrooms. When the house was purchased, there were problems with the roof, so they covered it with a tarp until they could get it fixed the year after. 

Since there was a tarp on the roof of the house, on windy nights you could always hear it blowing around. It had a distinct sound - plastic slapping around all over the place... 

Whenever I went to stay there and party with them I would end up sleeping in the living room because the couch had a fold out bed. So, one night, me and a buddy are staying there on the fold out bed. I'm having trouble sleeping because the wind is blowing hard and that damn tarp is making a shitload of noise. Even though it's 3 stories above me I can still hear it. So I pull the blankets off of my head and notice that the hallway light and back porch light are on. First I turn off the hallway light, then I head towards the kitchen since the back porch connects to it... 

So, as I turn into the kitchen on my way to the back porch, all I see is black and all I hear is the tarp slapping against everything. Not just the roof, but everywhere. It's so loud that it's damn near impossible that it could make such loud noise (especially without waking up the 8 other people in the house at the time). I couldn't hear anything else. It was actually ringing in my ears. 

So I started walking through the kitchen, then BAM! I bumped into something in the middle of the kitchen and as soon as I look up, I see something that's plastic. At this point I'm completely calm thinking that they must have purchased some kind of new appliance that has not been hooked up yet, even though I would have obviously noticed it during the party when everyone was awake. 

So, I touch it for a few seconds to get a feel of what I just ran into... As I look up, I notice that it's not an appliance at all. It's a human being. It's a person. He or she is wrapped in plastic in the middle of the kitchen.

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Creep source.

CREEP

There have been sightings of the black car near a small town an hour drive to Ottawa, Ontario. We found out out the hard way.

The place is very eerie and quiet. Myself and 2 other friends were driving to Ottawa late night when we decided to stop by for some food and use the restrooms at a nearby small town. To reach the town, you had to drive through a section that had nothing but corn fields left and right.

While we were driving, headlights shone behind us. It was pretty bright. We decided to slow down and let it pass. My friend and I both looked out to see the car (1930s classic Ford). Inside were an elderly couple. As the car passed by us, behind the moonlight, the man looked directly at us: he had no jaw, just the upper jaw and the eyes did not twinkle in the moonlight, as if they were dead eyes, or a matte black. We slowed the fuck down to a crawl, freaked out by what we saw. The driver, being the ass that he is, decided it was a good idea to chase the car down.

He gunned it. We were doing 120kph on this narrow and bumpy road. The next exit was a turnpike a few KM away. There is absolutely NO WAY that car had the speed to match us. There were no houses, no exits, just corn fields. Where it went, we had no idea.

Creep.

Image.

CREEP

My story happened almost a year ago. We had recently finished building our new conservatory onto the back of the house. You're able to look straight into it from both the dining room and kitchen, except at night when the curtains in the dining room are pulled over, leaving only the kitchen.

So...I'm an incredibly bad sleeper, which usually means that I stay up at night on the computer long after everyone else has went to bed. Well anyway, it's about 5:20 in the morning and I decided to switch the computer off and hit the hay. Before I did that, however, I decided to get a glass of water from the kitchen. The house was pitch black by this stage.

As I filled my water I turned my head and looked in the conservatory, at which point I noticed there was someone sitting in there. It would have been impossible for someone to get in; I locked the exit and entrance earlier that night. It couldn't have been my reflection in the glass; this guy looked nothing like me. He had short and tidy hair, thick rimmed glasses, buttoned up shirt and was glowing white. The worst thing of all was how he was positioned. He was sitting down on one of the new chairs, back straight, hands on his legs, all the while staring at the locked door, almost as if he was waiting for me to let him in the house.

I sat the water down and ran for my room at the top of the house. I decided I was going to stay up for awhile with the light on and just turn it off when it got bright outside. So, I'm lying in bed when suddenly the light switches itself off.

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EVP

"You can [faintly] hear the three females talking throughout the recording. You will hear a female – the family member – say, 'Hello, baby,' and another long conversation. Those are all human voices. But what sounds like a struggle or attack is going on as well.

"The male [voice] you hear was not present at the hotel. You will hear a cuckoo clock (which was not present) a ticking of a hall clock (which was there); you will hear what sounds like the microphone being moved (which was not touched) and then the sound becomes clearer.

"You will hear a creaking door and slamming of the door, which is real. Then you will hear a [unknown] woman say, 'Get off me,' and what sounds like the woman being attacked. The struggle continues for awhile, and during the EVP you can hear some of my investigators' conversations. After interviewing my investigators, they said they went and sat on the stairs of this hotel, because they heard from an above floor, what sounded like footsteps and conversations, not what you hear on this recording. When the noises stop, you hear the investigators participate in a lulled conversation. They stated that they started to talk when the noises stopped. In their conversation, you will hear a male voice say, 'Help me' several times."

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ONE SCARY NIGHT...

KEYHOLE

A professor was working late one wintry night when a sudden storm came, dropping over a foot of snow on the ground in record time. The professor, seeing that he had been essentially snowed into the building, readied himself to spend the night.

He alerted the university's security guard that due to the weather he was going to be spending the night. The security guard nodded, but then warned him of the things  he might experience during the night, such as knocking and footsteps, as well as the ghostly figure of a girl who is sometimes spotted roaming the halls late at night.

The professor found the security guard's claims dubious at best, but eager to get back to work, merely said he would keep an eye out.

After several more hours of grading papers, the professor saw that it was approaching three a.m. and decided it was time to turn in for the night. He stretched out on a couch in his office and had just fallen asleep when he was woken up by the sound of someone knocking at his door. The professor, remembering the security guard's warnings, became frightened and tried to ignore the sounds. 

As he tried to go back to sleep, the knocking came again. Wondering if maybe it was the security guard himself, he got up. To make sure it was the guard before opening, he peaked through the keyhole of the door. All he saw was the color red, and assuming that a person wearing that color was standing in the hallway, he opened the door.

No one was there.

He closed the door and went back to bed, tossing and turning for the remainder of the night.

When morning came, the professor located the security guard and told him of his strange experience, and how he had peered through the keyhole and saw a close-up of red - what he had assumed was someone's clothing. The security guard merely nodded, not surprised by the professor's description. The guard went on to explain that the spirit said to haunt the university was of a young girl - a former student - who had been ritualistically killed several years earlier. 

Her eyes had been carved out of her skull, leaving behind red, bloody holes.