As The Raven Dreams Podcast - 3 True Creepy Cemetery Horror Stories

Episode Date: October 22, 2021

3 True Creepy Cemetery Horror Stories is a collection of stories from those that technically always work the graveyard shift.  Yes I know there's a typo in my thumbnail... I'm not changing it.  Want YOUR Story Featured In A Video On This Channel? Send It My Way! Direct ➤ https://www.astheravendreams.com/submit  Subreddit ➤ https://reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream  Or you can email it to me at AsTheRavenDreams at either gmail or outlook. Get Up to 24 hour EARLY ACCESS to my content, Your name in my videos, various other perks and even FREE ATRD Swag, all while supporting the channel! Join My Patreon, or Channel Memberships for as little as $1 a MONTH!   Patreon ➤ https://patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Memberships ➤ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkW0ihdMHfBUjQrMKjRto6g/join And Remember- you are loved, you are valid, and you are important  [TIMESTAMPS/CREDIT] 0:00 ➤ Hit That THUMBS UP Button if you like the video! 0:29 ➤ Story 1 ➤  https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream/comments/qdnedy/story_1_cemetary_horror_stories_10222021/ 10:35 ➤ Story 2 ➤ https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream/comments/qdnflk/story_2_cemetery_horror_stories_10222021/   21:01 ➤ Story 3 by ➤ https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream/comments/qdng6q/story_3_cemetery_horror_stories_10222021/  30:46 ➤ Leave A Comment, Let Me Know What You Thought!  ➤ Salt water Taffy was created when flood water got into the taffy and the owner sold it anyway as joke ➤All stories within are used w/ Either direct permission from the author- or under some level of CC license (where noted) True Stories are not verified, and should all be considered 'supposedly true'.  ➤Some Fonts used are from https://www.misprintedtype.com - Eduardo Recife makes some AMAZING fonts!  ➤If you need to contact me for Business purposes, please contact me at [e-mail] and indicate that the email is for business.  ➤All videos come with a content warning for language, potentially triggering situations, and disturbing content. Viewer Discretion is ALWAYS advised... I do scary stories- it's not all rainbows and daisies around these parts.  #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #RedditStories Be sure to *subscribe* if you like any of the following; Glitch In The Matrix Stories, Creepy Encounter Stories, Deepweb horror stories, Darkweb Stories, Reddit scary stories, True Scary Stories, Creepypasta, Reddit ghost stories, Or really anything- my channel is pretty diverse. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/support Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Just a quick warning, the subject matter of this video could be considered sensitive to some viewers, and as always, viewer discretion is advised. Also, if you have a true scary story, you want to send my way, please do consider doing so at astherravendreams.com slash submit, or check the links down below. And of course, thank you. Back in the 90s, I used to work at a cemetery. I helped with the dirty work of digging the graves, lowering caskets, and helping with the upkeep of the fields. It was an easy enough job, and we hardly dealt with the customers, so we were pretty much left to ourselves, as long as we got the job done, and did it respectfully.

I also typically only worked during the day, which I was fine with because some of the things I witnessed were weird and creepy enough that I didn't need to know what happened at night. So, as mentioned, there were definitely some unforgettable events. We'd had some edgy teens break in, run around the plots. We had a naked guy sleeping on a grave once, and someone even brought a gun and demanded that we let him in after we had closed. So it's not uncommon, but you still remember them. But there was one that messed me up for a very long time, and it's actually led to me quitting. While we were working out on the grounds,

we may occasionally see customers come and go, setting up services, making payments, etc. We get all the work done on the plots the night before, so that way we didn't have a huge hole open during business hours. We had a truck that also came and always parked on the side of the cemetery that delivered flowers and other lawn supplies. Right as the truck was pulling in, there was a car that sped into the lot, cutting off the truck and stopping right where the truck usually parked.

It made no sense. There was a whole parking lot, and they chose to stop there. I started walking up to the fence, and I asked the person to move their car, but also expecting pushback just by the way they drove in. A woman frantically got out of the car in sweatpants, a hoodie, and a messy bun, looking around. I kindly asked her if she could park in one of the actual spots, as the side was for the truck, not to mention a no parking zone technically anyways.

She immediately started yelling at me about how dare I ask something so inconsiderate, and do you know why I'm here, I just lost my father, and so on. I immediately shuddered, because I knew this was a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of going to be brought up to the people inside, and I couldn't really say anything to her because of the situation. So, I just apologized, and walked away as she continued yelling. Someone did come out a little later, and asked me what had happened, and I explained it all to them. Surprisingly, they understood, and agreed that while it is common for people to come in still distraught, she was a little overboard. They said every time they would ask a question about what they wanted in the services,

burial or cremation, visitation, type of flowers, etc. She would burst into tears. They would try to calm her down and she would be fine answering until they asked another question. They said the whole process was exhausting, which told me a lot, because this person never complained about their job. I let it go, moved on, thinking I'd probably never see this person again. A few days later, we were digging the plots as normal, and then we cleaned up the edges.

We made sure the grass looks nice around the edge, things like that. When lucky me, that woman shows up, walking towards me. I hold my breath expecting her to go off on me, but I keep my cool and greet her. She approached me, smiling. and asked if this was plot number, whichever. I pulled up my sheet to confirm, and she told me that this was her father's. She then apologized for her reaction the other day, and explained that it had just been hard for her since she took care of her dad,

and he was the only one that had supported her, too. I was polite, because just as expected, she was going through the stages of loss, and everyone grieves differently. I told her it was okay, and I gave her my condolences. She said that she just wished it was her instead, because more people cared about her dad than her. Not knowing a damn thing about this woman,

I tried to say that that wasn't true, and being in this field of work, no pun intended, you may not think many people care about you, But the services always say otherwise, and that she had to continue on for her dad. I don't know if what I said helped or not, but she cried a little bit, hugged me, and thanked me, and then started walking away. Right before, though, she turned and asked me what time the cemetery closed, so I gave her the hours. I went home, told my wife about the woman, and she said that I did a good thing. She actually told me on the first encounter that she was probably going through a lot and to not judge someone based on that kind of encounter.

And I suppose she was right, because that was definitely a different person that I met that day. So, as stated, not only do we dig the graves, but we also help lower the caskets and bury them. So the next day was going to be the service for her father. I got up like I do every morning, got ready for work, I kissed my wife goodbye and headed out for the day. I liked getting there early to do the weed-wacking so that it was out of the way, and there was no chance of disturbing any visitors. The owner is usually already there getting things in order on the days of the services,

so I walked into the office and talked with them for a few moments before. I was one of the manager-like people at the time, so I had keys to the cemetery as well. The owner asked me if I had seen his keys because they usually left the keys to the cemetery gate in his office, but they weren't there. I said that I hadn't, and I double-checked just to make sure that I had mine. They said they probably just left them somewhere, as he had done that in the past, and excused me to get to work. I went to the shed to grab the weed whacker and head out. As I was walking around and getting closer to the plot that we had just dug the other day, I noticed the grass looked disturbed,

like something was placed on it because it was flattened. I got angry at first thinking it was another kid screwing around, and this woman was going through enough. I didn't want something else to happen to her. So, I started walking up to it to see what had happened. Now, I wish that it was just some kids. I found the woman laying in the grave, in a black dress, and blood all over her wrists. Not knowing what to do, I immediately started yelling for the owner and I jumped in the hole.

The ground was damp from blood, and she was already pale, cold, and unresponsive. Thankfully, Henry heard me. He came out and called 911 and then brought a ladder to get us out. When the paramedics arrived, I heard them say that she had lost a lot of blood but that she would likely be okay, and then they were gone. I actually took the rest of the day off. I called my parents and my two sisters to let them know that I loved them. This really hit me hard. This woman really didn't.

feel like she was worth it or that it was worth it to stay around and felt that this was the only option she had. No one should feel that alone. If it wasn't for her shallow groans, I would have thought she was dead, but knowing that she was close enough to that scared me enough. If I didn't come in early, who knows how long it would have been before she was found. Thankfully, she did live, though. We learned that she broke in through a backroom window and stole Henry's keys. I'm also thankful that he didn't press charges on her, but I heard the funeral for her father was a little off. I had to quit shortly after this.

The first time I really talked to any of the customers, got to know them, even the littlest bit, and then having to save their life. and that was too much. I found out what hospital she was at, and my wife and I thought it was a good idea to send her flowers and a gift. I hope my words did something for her, something to keep her going, because it seemed like she just needed someone to support her again,

or let her know that she wasn't alone. If you take anything from this, just let it be that you should be kind to people, because you really never know what they're going through. My dad's family has owned a funeral home and cemetery for many generations. The old office was so small that it's now being used as a storage shed for our equipment, and a bigger and better office was built. It's a blessing in the sense that I will always have a job,

but it's definitely not for everyone. I'm not the type that gets scared or uncomfortable when it comes to death. In fact, being in this field has made me more responsible when it comes to end-of-life decisions. At 32, I can tell you that I already have plans laid out so there isn't a burden on my family, if anything were to happen. I'm sure some of my friends think I'm weird, but, hey, life is short, and you never know what's going to happen tomorrow. I also feel like I'm more open-minded and in tune with those that have passed and the paranormal because of this. My mother has always helped out at the funeral home, but ghosts and spirits have never really been her thing. Even dealing with death every day, she didn't believe any of it was real.

I say this because I couldn't really talk to her about what I witnessed, but my father believed. all of it. In fact, we joke about having some frequent ghosts in our facility or on the grounds, and we speak about them as if they were living customers right in front of us. I feel that our place has become locally popular, because of the paranormal activity alone. Because I'm so connected to them, they really hold a place close to me, like family, and I wanted to share a few that I will always remember. When I was younger, my parents still brought me to the funeral home so that they could watch me, but when there was a service going on, I stayed at my grandparents or my aunt and uncles.

I appreciate them wanting me to understand that this is a normal thing, but also didn't want me to see anything that a child shouldn't. So, I often saw people coming and going to the funeral home, caskets and urns coming in, and sometimes other random items that the families might request. One, in particular, that stood out to me, was when I was about six. It was a really gorgeous blue casket, but it was also very small.

We all know what that means. As I saw my parents setting up the room, I noticed the decals that they were putting on the casket, which were different superheroes. My mom had explained to me, that it was for a little boy that had really liked them, and his parents asked for his final resting place to kind of look like his room. So they dressed it up just as they wanted.

Before they brought him out for the service, and before the family arrived to set up the rest, like personal gifts and pictures, I was ushered off to my aunts, and things continued as normal. After a few days, I was back there, playing in the back room and watching a movie, when I noticed that my dolls were falling off the small desk that was in there.

Thinking nothing of it, I just picked them up and put them back. This actually happened twice more, and at that age I was just getting annoyed and I yelled, stop it. It didn't happen again after that, but my dad had walked in and asked me what happened. I told him what was going on, when he just smiled and said maybe we should ask nicely next time, and walked out. But he left the door open that time.

After a few minutes of getting back to the movie, I realized this and I look over to the door. That's when I saw a young boy, wearing a long blue cape, just standing there. Not knowing what to do, I just said hi, but he continued to stand there. I tried talking to him some more, but he would never respond. So I caught up and just closed the door with him standing there. A while later, my mom came in and asked how I was doing, and that's when I brought up the little boy. She said there weren't any other boys there and asked what he looked like. After describing him to her, the look on her face changed to one of concern, and she just left the room.

As I got older, I learned that my mom thought my dad told me about the little boy that was in the blue casket, or that I saw him because that's exactly what he looked like, down to the cape. Over time, my dad and I both got used to seeing the little boy. He became a bit mischievous at times, as just like my dolls. Things would get moved, go missing only to reappear right. where they last were, or get knocked down. I finally found out his name so I could address him properly, and from there it was as if I could communicate with him.

I would ask him, Charlie, where did my pen go? And it would be in my seat or something. However, unlike some of the others, he's the only kid that I've seen, and my dad and I are the only ones to see or experience his presence. The other experience occurred as a young adult. The cemetery is open all day for anyone to come and go as they please.

Some people go by themselves, or with another person, where I've seen the whole group of people practically trying to have a party or celebration for their loved ones. We usually let them be and just give them their privacy until close to closing, and then walk or drive around to let everyone know so they can start heading out. After one particular service, there was a woman that stayed around long after the service was over. I knew it was the same woman because of her outfit. She was in a long black dress that was flowy towards the bottom, because you could see the bottom of it move with the wind.

It looks like it had either lace sleeves with attached gloves or just full-length gloves. She also had one of those small cocktail hats, that had a long black lace veil over her face. She had long, dark brown hair that was pulled to the side, over her shoulder. She stood there holding her hands in front of her, staring at the plot. She was still there when we decided to make our rounds. It was closer to the front, so I decided to walk over to her, hoping that I could comfort her as well.

As I got closer to her, I heard one of the grounds keepers hauler out for me. I turned around giving them a look of seriously, because I felt it was rude to shout like that. But by the time I turned back around, the woman was gone. I looked around for just a moment trying to see if I could find her, but she was nowhere. So I turned around to walk back towards the groundskeeper, and I was about to tell him not to shout like that when he apologized and said he thought it was okay since there was a no one around. That's when I immediately mentioned the woman that was standing there, and his only response was what woman? At first, I was confused, but it quickly clicked in my mind.

I apologized to him and again just advised to avoid shouting on the grounds while we were open. We finished up for the evening and started to leave, when I was driving by the side of the grounds and saw that woman standing there again. I had to know for sure what I was seeing, so I pulled over. I walked up to the fence line, and I stared at her for a few seconds. After a while,

I watched her turn around, walk off behind our big center oak tree, and then she was gone. I drove around as far to the other side as I could to see if she just went over to the other side, but no, she wasn't there. The next day, I went in and checked the books to see whose plot she was at. The plot belonged to a gentleman that was born in the 50s, and his wife and children survived him,

so I was stumped as to who this woman could be. I started going back through the records, to learn, and I found out that his mother had passed away when he was still a child. And, you guessed it, she was buried here as well. I went to find her plot, and I learned it was on the opposite side of that oak tree. My guess, she was still here and waiting to meet her son again. I still see her in passing, but I always let her have her space. It doesn't seem like she wants company, so I respect that, and I try to tell others as well.

Well, best I can. We've had a few people say that they've seen her, and we've had a small talk for those that I know are gifted like me. So, these were two experiences that have stuck with me since my time here, especially since their two reoccurring events. It's not hard to open up and realize that we are not alone here, especially in my line of work. I feel it's drawn me closer to the paranormal, and I welcome the opportunity to possibly learn

about someone's life. and to help celebrate it. I used to do part-time work from my dad at a cemetery about 15 years ago. He helped maintain the grounds by keeping the lawn mowed, flowers watered, and picked up left behind trash. After they had a service or around major holidays, he asked me to help out as more people meant more trash and things to pick up. not to be disrespectful, but some of the stuff that people left behind couldn't stay, like open food and drinks, or just their trash tissues, wrappers, or things like that, and those people prefer coming back to see that their loved one's resting place is being respected,

so that's where we come in. It's typically the same thing each time. I would walk around, pick up, Adjust, look at the headstones, occasionally explained to someone where or how to find specific plots. I also typically worked the day, so I didn't run into any creepy or paranormal experiences, which made the job even easier. Now, this one time, I had to help my dad zone an area out for the family of three, a husband, a wife, and their child, that were going to be buried. We had the area already, but it was further in the back, which was usually used by people of higher class, local celebrities, I suppose, things like that, so that the families could have more privacy.

At the time, I didn't pay too much attention to the news, but I did remember hearing how a family had been killed in their home in an apparent robbery. From the small things I could pick up from my dad, this was the same family. So we had to get it all plotted out, make sure the trees were trimmed, the surrounding area cleared for the services, etc. It was an all-day thing. Now, on the day of the service, there's no work being done on the grounds. My dad was usually in the back fixing things inside, doing paperwork, making calls, etc.

I ended up going up there to get my check and to just talk with my dad, but I didn't realize the services were that day until I saw a full lot of vehicles. So I entered in the back to not interrupt anything. I talked with my dad for a while, but he just seemed like his mind was elsewhere. Like, he seemed distracted, so I asked him about it. He said the funeral almost seemed like something out of a movie because they had a few cars that were far behind the rest of the group and one man that got out of the vehicle and several other men surrounding him,

like bodyguards. I didn't quite understand the concern over it and just tried to reason with him that they were probably important people. And if it was true what happened to the family, maybe it was police protection. for the rest of them. He still seemed to be keeping an eye on them, but he did loosen up a bit. I ended up leaving a little while after to enjoy having the weekend off and a fresh paycheck.

Now, around this time, my mother recently had surgery on her knee, so she needed a lot of help getting around. My sister worked over nights and was still living at home at the time, so she helped my mom while dad was at work. and then he took care of her in the evenings. The day after the service, I went over to my parents' house for dinner, and while we were settling down afterwards, my dad was telling me how he had this weird feeling that something wasn't right. He said he couldn't explain it, but it just felt like something was wrong. We tried to go through the normal things, make sure the stove was off, the dog was inside, nothing was missing.

We even called my sister to make sure she was okay, which she was. Then, my dad mentioned the cemetery, worried that he may have forgotten something there, like to close, lock the gate, the door to the crematorium, or something like that. Since he wasn't the owner, I could at least understand the concern because he would be held responsible if anything happened. I offered to go check it out to make him feel better. They were both hesitant at first, but I finally convinced them that I would be fine. I didn't believe in any superstitious stuff, and if all I had to do was check some doors, then I would be okay.

So I left with the promise to call them when I got there. I pulled up to the front, and I noticed an old beat-up car in the parking lot. The lot is usually empty, but we might occasionally get people parked there to sleep. or just talking in their car or something. I got out and I walked around the car, but as expected, there was no one in there and no one around. I figured the car may have just broken down, as it looked like it hadn't moved in months as is.

So I walked up to the building. I checked the door, which was properly locked, and then went inside. I called my dad from the phone in the funeral home, and I walked around to make sure everything was turned off and locked. It seemed to have calmed his nerves some more, so after I hung up, I locked the front entrance and started to head out. As I was walking back, though, I noticed the gates to the grounds were partially open. There was usually this chain-like lock that went around it so nobody

could get in. It was just dangling from the fence, so I thought my dad had probably just forgot to lock it up, and that was probably the issue he was having. I went to secure it when I looked up into the fields with a weird feeling. Something was telling me to go check in there. I got annoyed with myself after convincing my dad nothing was wrong, but something was really bugging me to check it out. So I skipped grabbing the golf cart and thought I would just do a quick walk around the grounds. Everything was looking fine.

until I kept walking towards the back. When I got there, there were two shovels sitting next to that family that was just buried. And even worse, they had been messed with. There was a pile of dirt on the side, and they had knocked over one of the headstones. As I went to turn around to go call someone, I was knocked out cold. When I finally started to come too, I noticed it was still dark, and I was long. lying in the grass with my head pounding. That's when I started hearing a familiar sound of dirt being shoveled.

I tried to turn around to check the sound when I felt something cold to the back of my head. I will never forget that sound. I just threw up my hands and I stopped moving otherwise. I don't even remember what I said to them, but it was probably something pathetic like pleading for my life. It felt like I was like this for hours, though. I just remember there were at least three people, and they were not speaking English, but I have no idea what language it was. After a while, I was told to lie face down and count to a hundred.

I know that I didn't get that far when I was knocked out again. This time, when I woke up, though, it was day, and I was not in the graveyard, but in a hospital. bed. Of course, my parents were there and freaking out, and they were trying to explain what happened. When I wasn't back at their place after 20 minutes or so, my dad started getting worried. He went out himself to check, but also called the cops to meet him there. When they arrived, they saw my car in the lot, and me not in it. And also one of my tires was slashed.

Then they found me. Those people had completely dug up the husband's grave and had destroyed the coffin to obviously get something he was buried with. But what? What could be so important that you have to dig up a grave for it? I know they never caught anyone, because I had to make a statement. They kept me informed, and as far as I know, no one in the family knows who could have done it either, or at least, least they aren't talking. On the plus side, this did push my dad to convince the owner to get a security camera,

and since then, the worst they've gotten is a raccoon, or just a person sleeping in the parking lot. But I also won't go there alone at night anymore either. So this was a collection of Cemetery Horror Stories, and I hope you enjoyed them as best as you could. Obviously, these are pretty creepy experiences, not going to lie, even without the paranormal aspect to them, to the one at least. The two non-paranormal ones are still kind of terrifying. I'm not going to disrespect the dead and say cemeteries are creepy places, because they're not. They're actually quite beautiful places where, as the person said, life can be celebrated. I really don't want to go into existential talk, so let's just say I enjoyed these stories, so thank you to everyone who's submitted.

their stories to me. Thank you to everyone who lets me use their stories, and thank you to everyone here who listens to this point, and even those that didn't. I appreciate all of you. All that said, friends, if you really liked this video, consider hitting that thumbs up button. You can also leave me a comment, letting me know your thoughts, how you're doing, how your day is going, or quote me in a funny way, as one of you will definitely do. And you can also subscribe to the channel if you're new, that helps tremendously, share the video out, you know, all the stuff you can do to help the channel. You can also go to patreon.com slash as the raven dreams or hit join them below, where for a dollar a month you can get early access to all my content. And that's pretty much the end of my spiel.

That all said, my friends, it's been a decent week. I think we've done well. I think things are going pretty good. And yeah, months almost over and that's pretty crazy to me. So hopefully you're for November, I guess. Anyways. Just remember, you are loved. You are all valid. You are all very important to this world. And you should never let anyone tell you otherwise.

And yeah, I will see you on the next video. Until then, sleep well.