As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 137 - Chilling Paranormal and Unexplained Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 23, 2024

Today, on the 137th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 17 True Chilling stories. These stories come from the shadowy corners of reality, where everyday life takes an eerie twist & ordinary people experience the extraordinary. Today we will be diving into some chilling Paranormal and Ghost stories, as well as a collection of unexplained horror stories. So, turn down the lights, tune in, and let the haunting tales of everyday people take you down that dark and creepy road. Remember, these aren't just stories... these are true experiences that remind us that our world can truly be scarier than fiction. Have a Story To Submit? ➤ https://www.astheravendreams.com Or Post to the Subreddit ➤ https://reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream Support the channel for Early Access AND more! Patreon ➤ https://patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Join ➤ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkW0ihdMHfBUjQrMKjRto6g/join Or Check out the Merch Store! ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in today's Video... Lady Lotus, Loo, Gabby Diveley, Sheri, AaraMac, MsBlank , Carla Base, Jaime Childerhose, MemoryHungry9108, Sarah Weschler, Alice, Canoeguy01, SpaceGoddessey, Ariana, Gregor... As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. 'As The Raven Dreams' is a community where we explore the darker parts of human existence through true and harrowing stories. From sinister encounters with strangers and stalkers, to terrifying experiences that defy explanation and unsettling mysteries that linger in the shadows, I am here to tell you the most haunting narratives ever whispered. Much Love, and Sleep Well... ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #RedditStories ➤ Stories include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Viewer discretion is always advised. ➤ ALL Audio of this Podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format, without explicit permission ➤ If you like any of the following stories, consider subscribing! - Dark Web horror stories, creepy lets not meet stories, stalker stories, Glitch In The Matrix Stories, Unexplained Horror stories, Paranormal stories, cryptid encounter stories, Crazy ex lover stories, creepy neighbor stories, quantum immortality, true scary stories from reddit, or any other True horror Stories! ➤ And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Lazang sur-gillet, Puisance-Moyerned 15 minutes. Oh, you'd say that's the hour Dojo? Prere to play! Vive the pleasure

with Leo Jo! The casino in-line that proposes the most recent machine-a-sou and the games of Casino in direct, on Big Bas, Bonanza.

Without exigance of means, and with the payments instantane. Hey, I've gained! Woo-hoo! Sentire the pleasure! Play-Ojo! 18-10 and plus,

1-Depos only depots in Ontario. 50 tours on the machine-a-soubys Big Bas-Bas Bonanza. DePos minimum of 10 dollars. Beye, I'm in a fashion responsible. The conditions apply.

Bien to aboard, Viarai. Embarked and profite. Embarked and relax. Ciroat. Bookine. Oh, that also. And profite. Via Rae.

The voice that we love that we love. If you have a true scary story, you'd like to share with the podcast, go to as the ravendreams.com and click the button to send it my way. Also, if the platform you're on has the option to rate the podcast or leave a comment, please consider doing so. And as always, thank you. I don't know if I wasn't supposed to see what I did. Every post I see about it or YouTube video is taken down.

About six months ago, I went into the forest with my friend. We walked through the pitch-black darkness until we reached some steps to take us down to this clearing. At the bottom of the steps, there's a stream that cuts through two big rocks. On the right is brush surrounding a 5 to 10 foot deep tiny lake, maybe 30 foot big in each direction. As

we approached to the edge of the stairs that we walked down, when we reached almost 60% of the way, we both saw a blue light obscured by the brush. My first thought was that it might have been a headlight of a fisherman with one of those pulsing blue headlamp lights.

That was until we saw it pulse, and literally go through a tree. Like, literally phase through it as if it wasn't there. I told my friend to turn off his flashlight, so whatever it was couldn't see us. My brain was trying to process what I was seeing due to the fact that nobody should be, or can, get into the forest at night. It slowly kept moving from the right side behind the brush to the left, As it got closer to the edge of the tiny lake where the rocks were, my body's fight or flight kicked in, anticipating that it was a person who wanted trouble.

Then it happened. I saw it disappear and reappear on a path on top of the water, clear from the brush. I wiped my eyes, and my friend stunned looks at me and says, what? I shook my head and tried to refocus my eyes. Whatever this was was only ten feet away from me. It was a blue orb about the size of a softball. The color was the most beautiful blue, almost baby blue. It looked seethrew and as a full ball of light at the same time.

As it kept on its path, it would slowly pulse. One bright pulse and then it would vanish. slowly. We both stood there watching it for at least a full minute, when I decided to leave. I didn't want whatever it was to get close to us. I didn't and couldn't believe what I was seeing, and I didn't know what kind of consequences would come from getting close. A side note, I forgot to mention that there was this background sound that seemed to be connected

to whatever it was. It sounded like a loud all around. gust of wind, mix with that sound you get before a tornado touches down. Finally, we got halfway up the stairs and turned around to watch it from a safe distance, maybe 20 feet away. My friend gets the bright idea to whistle at the orb without consulting me. Almost immediately, the orb starts pulsing as it was, but changing its trajectory toward us on the stairs.

We let it get maybe 10 feet away from us. when I grabbed my friend and pulled him away to leave with me. I told him it's better off not finding out what it is or what it can do. We made our way up and out of the forest and left. About a week later, I told my stepbrother about it, and he didn't believe me so we went back. We did the same trip through and saw nothing. Right at the end, before we exited the forest, there it was.

another just like it. This one was weird, though. I don't know why, but it almost seemed lost. There was no purpose to its movements. It was just going anywhere, but in a straight line. If anyone has any questions, I'll answer them. And if you have ever seen or know about these, I'm dying to find out more about them,

especially because I can't find any information about them. This thing is not like one of those dust particles from a camera. My phone flashlight was off, and my phone was in my pocket. And we both saw it clear as day, lighting up the things around it. I plan to go back soon and try and film these things. Thanks. Hi, Raven. Over the last month, I've come to the realization that there is a mimic living in my home.

The first incident was about a month ago. I was in the living room, early one morning, looking for a lost remote control. For some reason, the remote controls in my house always end up lost and then found in weird places. My 23-year-old daughter occasionally spends the night with me, and this morning she had spent the night prior and was still sleeping, so I thought. As I was looking for the lost remote, I heard my daughter say, Hey, Mama? in a sleepy tone as if she was about to ask me something.

I replied, Yes, and waited a few seconds and didn't get a reply. I said, Maya? What is it? Again, no reply. Confused, I walked into the bedroom that she usually sleeps in and she wasn't there. I looked around the house and she was not in the house anywhere, so I called her phone. When she answered,

I asked her where she went, and she told me that she had gone to work early. I was confused because I clearly heard my daughter in the house just minutes earlier asking for me. I didn't tell her what happened because I felt that she would just say I'm probably hearing things, but I know beyond a doubt that I heard my daughter in the house. A week later, my fiancé and I are standing in the hallway in front of the full-size mirror, and I'm trimming up his beard. when we both heard my son walk out of his room into the kitchen and say, Mama, in a worried type of tone,

as if he was about to tell me something concerning. I looked over and said, What is it, Hunter? And no one was there. I was so shocked and confused. I stood silently and just stared at my fiancé as he softly said, you didn't imagine it, because I heard it too. We both walked into my son's room and knocked on his door.

He said, come in. I asked my son if he had just walked into the hallway and asked for me, and he said that he had not left his room at all. He was playing a video game the entire time. So, who was just in the kitchen hallway asking for me? It remains a mystery. A few days after that, my daughter thought that she heard me in the bathroom. She texted my phone and asked if I was going to be much longer in the bathroom because she wanted to shower before bed.

I told her that I wasn't in the bathroom. Her reply was, I literally just heard you, Mom. She said that she knocked on the door and asked how much longer I was going to be and supposedly I replied. Just a second. She said that she heard me mumbling something and then it got quiet, so after waiting outside the bathroom for a few minutes, She texted me.

I was never in the bathroom, and when she opened the door, it was empty. She swears that she heard me in the bathroom, though, and I believe her. Up until this point, I had not told my daughter about the experiences we had prior. The scary part is when I told her what had been happening. She said the same thing had been happening to her. She would hear her three-year-old son, my grandson, playing, laughing and asking for her and when she would reply, no one would be there.

She said she thought that she was losing her mind and decided not to say anything for fear that people would think that she was hearing things and wouldn't believe her. Well, I definitely believe her, because as of this day, I hear echoes of people's voices while I'm talking to them before they can even reply.

I hear my dog barking in the distance while he is literally right, me not making a sound. My fiancé claims that something has been tickling the bottom of his feet at night while he's sleeping. I heard my three-year-old grandson running through the hallway toward my room and saw his shadow making his way to my room before it stopped and completely vanished. My grandson wasn't there. He was asleep in his bed. Does anyone know what this could be? I feel that it's a mimic, but it's now touching us at night. I've tried cleansing my home with herbs and different methods of purifying the energy in the house.

I've even set out protection wards. So far, it remains unknown whether this thing is planning on staying for a while, or moving out of my house. I'm not sure if this event was supernatural in nature, but it was definitely one of the strangest things I have ever experienced. I was in my early 20s and had just moved from California to New Mexico. I was renting a small studio apartment and had a friend staying with me while he was between places. One night, my phone rang around one in the morning. I rarely wake up during the night, but on this night, woke readily. My phone read, unknown caller.

Without thinking, I answered the phone. Hello? A soft, feminine voice with a slight southern drawl, responded asking, Is this my first name and last name? Stupidly, due to my groginess, I answered, Yes? The voice on the other end of the phone started speaking excitedly. I have a divine opportunity for you.

Absolutely divine. I'm going to give you a phone number to call first thing in the morning. I was just beginning to register how strange it was that this woman knew my name. name. Wait, who is this? I asked, growing increasingly startled. The woman laughed a little tinkling laugh and said, Why, this is Miss Button. Quickly, get a pen and paper and write this down. She quickly rattled off a list of numbers, and I jotted them down on a pad of paper on my bedside table. I was starting to think more clearly and asked again, Who are you, and how do you know my name?

She responded again. This is Miss Button, with a divine opportunity for you. Then the call cut off abruptly, and I was left sitting in the dark just staring at my phone. There was nothing to do but go back to bed, so that's what I did. A few hours later, my friend and I both woke up. Just as I was wondering if it was all a dream, my friend asked me, who were you talking to last night? I considered the possibility that I was sleep-talking,

as this is something that I do sometimes, but one glance at my bedside table told me this wasn't the case. In red ink on the pad of paper on my bedside table, there was a phone number. I looked at the number, and sure enough, there was a record of the call having taken place around one in the morning. After recounting my experience to my friend, I called the unknown number back, only to get nothing but a dial tone. Next, I called the number on my bedside table.

It rang for a while, but then a man answered. He told me that I had reached a Walmart in Akron, Ohio. I asked the man if there was a Ms. Button at that location, and he connected me to the manager to check. check. The manager told me there was nobody with the last name Button on their team, and she ended the call. To this day, I have no idea who Miss Button was, how she knew my name, or what divine opportunity she spoke of. It's never too early to plan your summer story in Europe with WestJet, from rolling countryside to cobblestone streets. Begin your next chapter. Book your seat at westjet.com.

or call your travel agent, WestJet, where your story takes off. Hi, Raven. I've been listening to you for a few months now. As many have said, I appreciate that there is a safe space for individuals to share their experiences. There are some experiences about dreams and coincidences that you've shared on your podcast that made my heart race, because I've had some weird happenings myself. Whether you would like to share this or not, I'm happy that you're reading this. For some context, I am of Hmong descent, where our traditional belief is shamanism.

In our culture, there are some individuals that are born to become shaman. They are visited in their dreams by guides and chosen to help bring healing to our community, whether it's through readings, blessings, ceremonies, etc. To add, I've always had vivid dreams as a child, both good and bad. Dreams of flying and visiting people. I would also have weird coincidences where I would dream that someone would get hurt, and then as time passes, they would find themselves injured.

Now you can say, well, everyone gets injured to some extent, but the kind of injury I'm explaining is like a major illness or death. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, I wake up in a cold sweat. It feels like I'm having a panic attack, and it takes me a bit to calm down. But for that entire day, I'd be riddled with intense thoughts of the person or people involved. It only goes away if I tell someone. This specific kind of dream has only happened five times.

My mom and I nicknamed those dreams, well, those dreams. As a child, I had dreams of flying and would love to talk to my parents about it. But it was pushed to the side as crazy. talk or wild imagination. I stopped talking about them for a while, but it was only until I had the first of those dreams, where my mom and I knew this might be something different. I don't recall how old I was, but it was when I was still living in my childhood home from around 1995 to 2005, from birth until maybe 11 or 12 years old, I think.

This home was very old. It was an old red brick Victorian home with wooden creaky floors, air vents that a child could crawl into, a laundry shoot from the second floor down to the basement, huge locks on the bedroom doors where we could use the skeleton key to open, or the spoon if you were crafty like me, in a horrible unfinished cement basement with far too many closets. Yeah, it was an old place.

When I was a child, my grandfather suffered from a stroke and was paralyzed from the waist down, thus was wheelchair bound. Due to this, he and my grandmother lived on the bottom level of our home while my family and I were upstairs. I was very close to my grandparents. I'm a first generation among American, and my parents had me when they were teenagers. They spent a lot of their time working while my grandparents raised me, with the grandparents' living. at my house, we often had relatives visiting. It was one of the nights when some of the cousins were over and we ended up having a sleepover. We had a blast eating junk food and playing hide-and-seek.

Hide-and-seek was one of our favorite games to play because my house was huge, and there were so many places to hide. As an adult, I shake my head at myself for even going to hide in some of the creepy places I did as a child, so I blame myself for the scary experience. experiences that I had. Anyways, this night was different. I should have known that something was off, but as a child I didn't think too far into it. After a fun-filled day, we all decided to bring the couch cushions into my room to make a fort with my mattress and blankets.

Once we were successful, we decided on the sleeping order and ended up where I had to sleep by the vent because it was my house. The vents were scary because you could hear noises coming up from them. if people were moving throughout the house. We stayed up for a bit and played Barbies, but while playing, I could faintly hear something coming from the vent in my room. As the other girls were playing, I zoned in on the sound, and it sounded like tapping and slow breathing.

I got goosebumps right away. It was around 10 p.m. on a weekend. My parents were out with their friends, and my grandparents were asleep downstairs, and not the type to be up and about so late at night. Who could be around at this time? Assuming it was my grandma probably using the bathroom, I let it be in, continued to play with my cousins.

That night is when I had the dream. I dreamt that I was outside with my cousins during the day, playing outside like regular kids, when I turned to my left and saw a man in sunglasses down the block walking towards us. I could see that the skin on his face looked like it was melted. It almost looked like third-degree burns that didn't heal properly, except the skin was shiny. He had black hair, or maybe a black hat on.

He wore a red shirt and sunglasses. I couldn't make out the bottom portion of him, but in that moment, I just knew that he was staring directly at me. Maybe it's because his head turned ever so slightly. It's like he saw me, or maybe I saw him. As he walked on the sidewalk towards us, I felt a sense of foreboding. When we locked eyes, I remembered the color and lights around him glowing bright. So bright it was like the world was shaking around him.

And that's when I broke eye contact and turned to my cousins to tell them to get inside the house. I herded them up and pushed them inside the front door, reaching for the screen door. There was a lock on the side of the handle that I felt for once I had it closed. I knew that if I locked it, then it might delay that thing from getting into the house, as I made sure to hide everyone. But the lock didn't work. I moved the little black lock up and down while repeatedly opening and shutting the door, but I could not get it to lock.

So I just pulled it shut and slammed the heavy wooden door closed instead. I bolted the top and bottom and looked up. The door had a small window at the top that was usually covered in a small makeshift curtain my grandma made for privacy, but it wasn't there. On the other side of the window, I saw the face of a man. I'm not sure how tall that entity was, but he must have been tall. I don't remember a mouth or any features besides his sunglasses, black hair, and hat. I backed away quickly as I saw the white screen door open, but opened through him. Then I heard the doorknob starts shaking as the door started to rattle.

At this point, I wasn't thinking about my cousins anymore. I was thinking about where to hide. I felt like I was too late, but too late for what, exactly? I don't know. At the end of the hall across from the front door is the door that leads to the lower level of where my grandparents stay. I backed up all the way until my back was against the door,

and then I opened it and ran in. I slammed the door behind me and locked it as well. Anything to get me away from whatever was coming towards me. At this point, I knew that thing was on the other side. It got in so easily and quickly. I remember screaming in my head. I was afraid to let go of the knob, but I did. and sprinted into my grandfather's room, hiding in his bed.

As I hid, the man burst in the room, and then I felt like I blacked out. Blacking out in my dream resulted in me waking up in what felt like a panic attack. I remember waking up and crying to my cousins. I told them exactly as I told you. I was petrified of whoever or whatever that man was. My cousins urged me to tell my parents, but I was afraid that they would call me crazy again, but I did. I told my parents that something bad might happen,

but I don't know what, and I couldn't tell them who. As a kid, I just knew something bad was going to happen in this house, and I couldn't stop it. I remember telling my mom specifically that. And then maybe what felt like months later, my grandfather passed in his bed during the day. My grandpa passed away in October of 2001. My family and I could never shake the eerie feeling that the dream could have been a warning or a sign.

Granted, we are very superstitious, though. Many relatives have their theories, but the most common theory is that one day I may need to become a shaman. Some believe it was a vision, and some believe I have an attachment. This is only due to the happenings that occurred after my grandfather's death. I personally don't know what to believe. Paranormal experiences used to be a daily occurrence from my siblings and I growing up after my grandpa passed away until everything came to a stop when a shaman got involved. I can't explain the feeling, but it's like a veil was put over us.

Things are there, but they're not. My siblings and I talk about it all the time now that we're adults. There are so many stories that I can share if you're interested. from creepy hauntings to having a co-worker turn into a believer. Currently, I'm about to take the step in finally seeking out a traditional shaman to speak to my spirit. The most recent of those dreams, last year, 2023, resulted in me having to go to the ER from internal bleeding I got while sleeping. I won't go into detail in this, for I fear that it will make it too long, but, long story short, I was stabbed in my stomach. To this day, even my doctor has no idea what could have caused it at 5 a.m. in my sleep.

They've written it off as something that happens, after telling me that a bleed like that does not just happen. I'm 29 years old, with no known medical history on what would cause internal bleeding like that. Of course, I didn't tell them about my dream because it would sound crazy, but my mom thinks that whatever could have been broken, bothering me over the years, maybe back. I'll also include that she was raised Mormon and married into shamanism, so she was a heavy skeptic on the shaman beliefs in the past. Thank you for your time, and thank you so much for allowing me to finally be able to share the story without feeling so alone.

I hope that others who are also going through a time in their life where they are unsure about themselves and why things are happening, know that, They are not alone. I'm sending everyone so much love and support. Best wishes. Hi, this happened to me in the late 90s, and I guess it would be considered as paranormal. Hey there, I don't want to include my name,

because I don't want this story tied to me, and if you decide to narrate the story, I've changed a few things, just in case my brother or other family members hear about this. That way they won't know it's about my niece that passed away. Years ago, I got a summer job working in Minnesota as a canoe guide. During that time, my brother's wife was pregnant, and I knew that I would probably become an uncle while I was on the trail.

For a few months prior, I kept having a weird dream of being in the woods and hearing a baby cry. As I followed the sound, I would get out to a clearing. A baby was on the ground and crying. As I would approach the baby to pick it up, a wolf would appear from behind the baby, and then the wolf would pick up the baby and carry it away a bit further and sit down with it between his paws.

If I approached again, he would pick up the baby once more and disappear into the woods. Anyways, I would dismiss this dream and thought nothing of it, at least at the time. At one time, I got a group of American Boy Scouts for an eight-and-a-half-hour day trip. I loved the longer trips, as it would allow us to go to more remote locations further away from civilization. Some of the routes we had, we would go two or three days without seeing any other groups or fishermen. During that trip, one of the younger scout leaders' tents broke.

Since he was in his early 20s, I let him stay in my tent. I was 18 at the time, and the other scout leaders were 40 years or older. He was too old to sleep in the kids' tents, as they were all 13 to 15 years old. On day six of our trip, I woke up, and the youngest scout leader said that I talked in my sleep. He said that around 1 a.m., I started to say, get off of me. You're too heavy. I can't breathe. And then all of a sudden I sat up in the tent. and yelled out, No!

At the top of my lungs, and then fell back asleep. All I remember was the dream with the wolf and the baby, but had no recollection of any other dream or screaming. Again, I dismissed it and didn't think anything of it. I was more embarrassed than anything else. When I got back to camp, I got to a pay phone as soon as I had the chance.

My father answered, and I asked if the baby had arrived yet, and if I was an uncle to a boy or a girl. My father then broke down in tears. He told me that the baby was born, and that it had died three days ago. As I hung up, one of the scout leaders was passing by and saw me

and asked if I was an uncle yet. I just answered, for a few days, and then broke down in tears and walked off to a point near the lake to be alone. I guess the news spread pretty quickly. My boss came and found me, we talked for a bit, and offered me four days off with pay. When I got back to the main lodge, the staff and guests had pulled some money to buy a round bus ticket to go back home. After a 15-hour ride in the bus to get back home, my parents informed me of the reason that the baby had died.

The mother had breastfed the baby at night. as the baby had milk in its mouth and stomach. The coroner thinks that the mother had fallen asleep and suffocated the baby under her own weight. She didn't realize what she had done and put the baby back in the crib at some point. When my brother came back home from work, he picked up the baby and realized that he was dead.

To this day, my brother never talks about his child's death. The baby's death was put, and around 2 a.m. That's when it hit me. The night that I talked in my dream and screamed no was the same night my nephew had passed away. And considering I was in another time zone, I yelled no at 1 a.m. where I was,

but it was 2 a.m. back home. When I showed up at the wake, my heart stopped when I looked at the picture. When the child was born, my brother had removed his shirt, and put his child on top of the shirt, then took a picture. The black shirt had a wolf on it, and it looked like the wolf was standing guard over the baby.

Hello, I'm a new listener, but I've been constantly listening for the past week or so. As a stay-at-home mom of a two-year-old, it helps calm my nerves listening to strange stories, I guess. These stories have brought back lots of memories from when I was a child, as well as more recent strange events. I have many to share, but I'll go in order as best I can. One of my earliest memories is when I was probably about three or four years old. I had health issues, and I would sleep in bed with my grandma because my parents worked the third shift. Every night she and I would read books or color for about 15 minutes,

and then go to bed while watching TV. I remember seeing the man in the doorway, and oftentimes he would play with me too. I was never scared of him. I would be reading books or something while my grandma was doing something else, and he would come to me and talk and play. I remember him tickling me so much one day while I was in bed. My grandma was sitting on the edge of the bed, and I was lying in bed, but he was tickling me, and I was laughing so hard. like the kind of laugh where you can barely catch your breath. She looked at me and kind of laughed it off at first,

probably thinking I was just being a silly kid, not wanting to go to bed. However, this became a regular occurrence. At first, I think that my grown-ups all thought I had an overactive imagination and a close friendship with my imaginary friend, until I started telling them what he looked like. Looking back on it, I don't really remember ever seeing his face, but at the time I definitely did. I was able to describe him all the way from his cowboy hat to his boots.

As an adult, I don't really remember what he looked like, but apparently the way that I described him at the time was exactly what he looked like. I remember when my mom heard me describe what he was wearing, her eyes filled with tears, and my grandma's hands. went all shaky, and a sentimental look took over her eyes. I didn't understand until I was a bit older that the man in the doorway was my grandpa, my grandma's husband, who passed away in 1976. This would have happened around the year 2000 or so. My mom was only three when he passed away, so she wasn't able to fill my head with a whole lot of information about him.

The outfit that I described him wearing was apparently exactly what my grandma had him buried in. I don't remember a whole lot from then except for this, but I really doubt that my grandma would have shared with her three to four-year-old granddaughter what her dead husband was buried in, and there are no photos of his burial outfit either. Also, up to that point, I don't think I had ever seen any pictures of him,

but again, I don't think. anyone would have been like, hey kid, this is your dead grandpa. I mean, maybe they did. But for me to conjure up this man coming in and tickling me, playing games, and reading to me, I feel like that's not really a thing. This was a core memory for me. It's something that's always stuck with me, and it's strange that I can remember this happening, and not really am able to remember what he looks like. Now I think of it as an invisible man talking to me and tickling me as strange as that is. Now that my grandma has passed and my son has been born, I wonder if he is seeing her the way I saw her husband. I have another story about her passing and my son being conceived, but that's for another time.

Sometimes, while I'm putting my son to bed, he'll start laughing as if someone is making him laugh like playing peek-a-boo or something. But I'm lying in bed next to him and not making any sound. And we have no TV in the bed. Just a nightlight that projects a galaxy onto the ceiling. Now I catch myself wondering if he's just a kid with an overactive imagination, or if there is something more to his sleepy, late night giggles. Twenty years ago, when I was just a baby, my family made a big move from a small town to a bustling city.

We found a house that seemed perfect, spacious, airy, and just the right amount of charm. For the first few days, everything was great. We settled in, began to feel at home, but then strange things started happening. It started with my uncle. One night he was sleeping alone in his room when he woke up suddenly. The fan had turned off, and he felt someone tugging at his blanket. startled he sat up and looked around but there was no one there he rushed out to check on the rest of us only to find everyone fast asleep then there was my granny she was taking a bath one morning when she felt a strange sensation someone was blowing air into her ears she felt a chill breeze even though there are no windows in the bathroom she quickly finished her bath and told us what happened but we did didn't know what to make of it.

My mom had her own eerie experience. She was in the kitchen cooking dinner when she heard someone call her name. She turned around expecting to see one of us, but there was no one there. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. The most unsettling part of the house was a long, narrow passage that connected the living room to the bedrooms. Frequently, we would see shadows moving down the passage, even when we were all together in the living room.

It became a regular occurrence, and we started to avoid the passage as much as possible. Living in that house was becoming unbearable. The constant sense of unease and the strange occurrences were taking a toll on us. We finally decided that we couldn't stay out there any longer. After just six months, we packed up and moved out. Before we left, my mom went to see the owner of the house one last time. On our way back, some neighbors called out to her, and they asked if she finally left that house.

When she said yes, they looked at each other with relief and told her something that sent chills down her spine. The house was known to be haunted. A young girl had hanged herself in one of the rooms years ago, and ever since, strange things have been handed. happening to anyone who lived there. And they couldn't tell her, because the owner had begged them not to, so they couldn't do much. Another eerie part was that none of the neighbors used to talk to us, which we found weird, but we were also not much of the extroverted types personally, so we brushed it off.

My mom was shocked and scared by the revelation. She rushed back home and told us what she had learned. We were all stunned and terrified. It was hard to believe that we had been living in a haunted house for six months without knowing it. We thanked God that we had managed to get out of there safely. Even now when we talk about those six months, we can't help but feel a shiver run down our spines. The memories of that house and the strange things that happen there will stay with us forever. Even though I was a few months old, my family keeps on telling us.

telling me this story that has made it memorable for me. Hey Raven, I love listening to your YouTube channel. No worries if you decide not to use my story, but it's an unexplainable event from my life, so I wanted to share it. I've had several strange experiences in my life that I wouldn't believe were possible if they hadn't happened to me. One such experience occurred when I was six. here my dad decided to move our family. My older sister, my uncle and myself, from Vermont to

Hopkinsville, Kentucky. We moved into an apartment in a renovated barn owned by my dad's friend, Dave. My dad and Dave had been good friends a decade earlier in high school when they partied together, but they hadn't seen each other in years. One memory my dad often mentioned from their teenage years was when they had tripped on acid together. That night, Dave had freaked out, screaming that my dad had a demon inside him. My dad speculated and joked that this experience was the turning point in Dave's life.

Over the years, Dave had become straight-edge and deeply religious, almost cult-like in his practices, while my dad still enjoyed partying frequently. Dave lived next door to us and was the pastor of a vizabeth of a pastor of a vicariouser. very active Southern Baptist Church. He and his family were extremely religious and held daily church services. We attended sometimes to appease Dave, but didn't really subscribe to their religion

or practices. Their practices were pretty extreme, with many of the congregations speaking in tongues, and just going absolutely wild during the services. Our houses were surrounded by fields, and my sister and I loved playing outside with our puppy chip. The fields were filled with tall grasses and ticks. Most days, after my sister and I finished playing, my dad would light a cigarette on the back porch and check us for ticks, removing them by putting the tip of his cigarette on the ticks back, which would make them recoil and release from our skin.

However, my dad wasn't the most attentive parents, so sometimes he would forget to do it. do this. One day, when my dad was checking me, he found a really big tick attached to my head, which means it must have been there for at least a few days. The next day, I got really sick. I couldn't keep anything down and had a fever of 103 degrees Fahrenheit. After a few days, my dad brought me to the local ER. The doctor examined me and determined me that I had some kind of fever. They told my dad there wasn't much they could do, so they gave him the option to either keep me in the hospital or to bring me back home and make me comfortable. My dad chose to bring me

back home. A few days later, he drove me to a different hospital a little further away, and they told him a similar thing. I can't remember much from this time except feeling like the world around me was fuzzy, almost like I was an awaking dream. I also remember sleeping non-stop and being carried back and forth to the bathroom because I was so weak that I couldn't walk, or even sit up in bed. I remember my dad crying and seeming really scared, acting like he thought I was going to die. After over a week of this illness, nine days, I think, Dave asked my dad if he and his congress could pray for me.

My dad said yes, but he was hesitant because Dave said he, my uncle and my sister, couldn't take part in the service with him in the congregation. Instead, he was to hand me over and wait outside, or in our apartment until they finished. My dad, feeling out of options, agreed. My dad carried me over to Dave's church, another renovated barn but remodeled into a chapel. which was only a two-minute walk from our place. It was raining so hard that we were soaking wet upon arrival. My dad reluctantly handed me over to Dave, who instructed him to come back in a couple of hours.

Then he carried me into the main church room with all the members of his congregation. I remember him placing me in the middle of the room in a large bean-back chair. I remember his congregation formed a circle around me, but I can't remember him. remember anything else after that, until the very end of the service. Dave and his people did their thing in two hours passed, and when everything was over, I was completely better. My memories of being carried over there and placed in the room are super hazy and dreamlike, but the memory of waking up and feeling completely better are so vivid. Almost like the beginning memories are a dream, but the end memories are real.

At the end of the service, I stood up and walked out of the room after not being able to for over a week. I felt hungry and energized. I felt like I had just woken up from a long, restful sleep, but I'm uncertain if I was awake or asleep during the prayer. Years later, my dad told me that something else happened during those two hours. He said that he was waiting outside when he heard a loud crash that sounded like, thunder and the whole building lost power and went dark. He ran to the window to look outside and saw a flicker of bright light that lit up the entire sky. At that moment the rain completely stopped and the sky stayed lit up with a blinding bright light for a while,

much longer than a normal lightning flash. My dad said that while the sky was lit up, he started feeling really dizzy and had to sit down with his back against the wall. because he felt that he was going to pass out. When he looked back up, the bright light outside was gone, and the power had come back on. Then he heard the familiar rhythmic hum of Dave and the congregation speaking again, with some yelling, hallelujah,

and others speaking in tongues. The sound of Maracas, tambourines, and drums filled his ears. Shortly after, Dave came out and opened the door, and his face was a bright red. as if he had just run a marathon, and he had sweat pouring down his face. All he said was, praise the Lord. My dad was so happy to see me up and walking that he thanked Dave over and over. My dad had always remained skeptical about that night and shrugged off the bright light,

as his mind playing tricks on him due to the stress of the situation. But sometimes, after he'd been drinking, he would mention that moment with a curious look in his eyes, wondering if we had somehow crossed into a different reality, a glitch in the Matrix. How else could he explain my sudden recovery and his bizarre experience? I've always questioned that night all my life. Did the end of my illness just happen to coincide with the timing of the prayer events?

Just a super convenient and unlikely coincidence? Or did something truly miraculous, and unexplainable occur. Would I have died if they hadn't prayed over me that night? Why did Dave make my family wait outside? Did he really believe there was a demon in my dad's soul? What did they do in that room,

and how was I completely better afterwards? Did it have anything to do with the lightning, the loss of power and bright light in the sky, or was all that just another coincidence? I guess I will never have these answers. but the memory of that day with all of its strange occurrences lingers in the back of my mind. This story is something my partner experienced with her son. Her son, seven at the time, is a deep sleeper.

It takes a lot to wake him up. One night she was in the living room and her son called out to her. She asked him what was wrong and he told her that something scared him. She brought him to the living room to sleep next to her on the car. couch and then asked what had scared him. The face in my room, he said. Obviously, she was creeped out and asked what he meant. He said that a shadowy face was floating at the edge of his bed when he woke up.

At first he laughed because it was making a funny face, but then it widened its grin and started gnashing its teeth. Oh, and it had glowing eyes. What the hell? she asked him if it was a dream and he insisted that it was real. She comforted him, telling him that that must have been scary and eventually got him back to bed. An hour later, he woke up on the couch and yelled again saying the face was back. She couldn't see it, but asked where it was.

Insistently, he said, it's right there, mom, right there, and pointed to a spot behind the corner of the couch. She walked over and he said, It moved and told her that it was now by the middle of the living room. She still couldn't see it, but unlike many parents, she didn't brush him off. Instead, she said, Hey, I don't know what you are or why you're here, but you're scaring my son and I need you to stop.

After she said that, her son said that Mr. Nashing Teeth moved out of the living room and went down the basement stairs. She closed the door. Her son fell back asleep, and that was that. I'm very happy to say that they don't live there anymore. Although, at their new place, their dog likes to stare at a blank spot on the wall,

so maybe I'll have a new story for you someday. This is a story that I haven't told many people, but I have told the public once before. though this is the first time I'm putting this story in full detail since. This happened in my second house that I have ever lived in. Just for a few details, this house is pretty old. All my family that has lived there says that they've heard doors closing and footsteps upstairs, even though they were home alone.

I've seen people outside our house many times, even though they are not truly there. I have a lot of hallucinations, so this could be one, but I'm honestly not convinced this was a hallucination. I was nine years old at the time and was in my room. My room is on the top floor of the house. I had nightlights in almost every corner of my room. There was a door at the end of my room where you can stand on a balcony.

There are two huge windows behind me. my bed, and another long window aside from it. Anyway, I was on my bed, drawing. It was really late, probably two or three in the morning late. The stairs to go up to my room and my twin brother's rooms are extremely squeaky. Same thing with the hallway. I assume you would know why I'm mentioning this, because I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I was scared that I would get yelled at, or punished for being up this late,

since my parents were strict about how late me and my twin brother were up. I swiftly hid my sketchbook under my blankets and my pencil under my pillow. I would say, if I'm being serious about it, that I can pretend I'm sleeping pretty well. I did just that, and pretended to be sleeping. The footsteps went from the stairs to the hallway and then came into, my room. I got so curious on who it was, so I very carefully opened my eyes slightly, and I saw a figure. They, or whatever the hell it was, looked like the figure of my mother, father, or older sister.

Possibly my older brother, but I don't think so. I was truly horrified and tried to continue my act. They continued to walk around my room, and then finally soon. stood in front of my dresser and stared at the mirror on my dresser. Or, I assume, they did. I couldn't see them anymore since they were behind me, and I didn't want to turn around since they would know I'm not asleep. I started hearing the sound of drawers opening.

They were probably looking for something, but I still don't know what they were looking for. Finally, after probably five long minutes, they left. I wanted to cry and I'm not sure why. I did eventually fall asleep, and in the morning I talked to my family at breakfast and continued to question everyone if they had gone upstairs. Everyone denied. I even asked my twin brother, even though there was no way it was him,

and he also denied, since he was asleep downstairs that night. Sometimes, when I bring up the story, people call me stupid and that I should have yelled as loud as I could, but I'm not sure. I'm still currently living in this house, and I have had some paranormal experiences, but this one honestly still scares me, and I think it's because I never heard them leave the hallway. My mother had passed, and she had this key ring that she'd gotten you. years back that we teased looked like a jailer's ring. It was all golden brass and you could wear it like a bracelet. It had a definite and distinctive sound. I too have a lot of keys myself. Anyway, mother was gone. My sister lived about ten minutes away. My father remained with us four more years. They were our best friends, guides, and confidants. One night a fierce Kentucky

lightning storm whipped up. I took my father into our bathroom for safety. The only window was small and sandwiched between the houses and safer than any other area. It had plumbing, which is protective, and tile walls and a really heavy-duty cast-iron fused to porcelain bathtub, which I placed him in with a plastic shower chair. I had Dante, my ragdoll cat, which is half-Siamese and half-Himalayan, and so docile and gorgeous. I buckled a harness securely onto him with the leash, and I sat on the toilet, having closed up every bedroom door in our hallway in the bathroom door to shield us from any flying glass,

since the TV predicted a tornado. We talked and listened to booming like we had never experienced. It crashed one big roar, and my cat shot out of his now empty harness, leaving my arm wrapped in a leash dangling from the empty harness. Soon my sister called asking where I was. We're in the bathroom, I informed her. Did you just come here? She asked urgently.

No, of course not. She had experienced going into her basement where she sat at an old dining room table with a lit candle, flashlight, and radio on it, and she had her iPhone. She had a nearby clock and an old TV nearby, but it was off. She didn't want to turn on the radio on it. either, since it might attract lightning. She sat in silence with her big main coon cat, Sam. Suddenly she heard her garage door open and then close,

and then a car door slam with the jingling of keys. And then the door connecting the garage to the kitchen, which was on the other side of the wall from her closed basement door. We had a habit when coming into the house to announce ourselves. I'm here, which she clearly heard, thinking, why was I there and not with our father? She called out that she was in the basement and wanted to find out what was going on.

Why was I there and where was her father? She came up the steps to see no one. Nothing. No car in her garage, and then it hit her. My voice and my mothers are almost identical. But if it wasn't me, jingling my roll of keys, calling out in my voice, then it was my mother's. but she was gone.

So as I insisted on the phone that I'd been home from work for hours, helping my dad barricade from the storm, mother had gone to be with her. My house came on a Sears Roebuck truck back in 1918 and was placed neatly on this small dead-end street with four other houses, an old depot several hundred feet away from railroad tracks. I believe that it is upon sacred land, of slaughtered Pottawatomie Native Americans.

An elderly childless couple were the previous owner and the only owners, according to county records. I never met the woman as she had passed away in the house a few years prior to the sale. Long story, but my husband's grandparents who lived next door told us that we had to buy it. This was the mid-80s due to our growing business on their property. We took down the fence and expanded the business onto both properties.

Being young and having just welcomed our firstborn, I decided to make the best of the situation. There wasn't much ghost activity at first. There was mostly eerie feelings like being watched. Occasionally the master bedroom door would move or open and close sometimes, and I could sometimes hear footsteps. Nothing too scary. In the late 90s, we purchased another house about a mile down the road.

This house was very small, and our family had grown to three children, and things were a bit crowded. We kept this house as the business was still on it, and this house was used as the office. Fast forward to several years later. My husband's grandparents passed, and we rented his grandparents' house to a worker while still using both properties to continue. you using for the business. Then came the very messy divorce in 2004. We sold the business in the divorce, so this house was vacant. I moved back in this house in the fall of 2005, and all was good for a while.

The same opening and closing of the main bedroom door, the footsteps around the bed, and the feeling of being watched. I never felt threatened, so I brushed it off. Then, a few years in, after remodeling and making some changes, activity picked up. Stuff like the ceiling fan turning on by itself in the living room while I was watching TV. I have some ceramic figurines and a few other memorabilia on a small dresser as an altar to honor my late brother in another bedroom. Upon entering the room the next morning, the room felt weird, very heavy. Two of the four figurines were missing.

I looked around, and one figurine was five feet across the room, and the other one lay on the ground at the bottom of the dresser. Also a small five-by-eight framed picture that hung above these figurines had been removed and placed neatly in the place of the two missing figurines. If it had fallen off the wall, it would have knocked over or broke the other figurines. I stared at the picture and wondered why that picture. There were a few other pictures, but it had picked that particular one. It was a picture of an Amish family traveling down a dirt road,

with small children throwing feet off the back of the wagon at some geese following behind them. There were other pictures of my brother that remained undisturbed. I figure it may have associated with the scene in that picture. still a mystery and only a guess. I had heard asking the ghost to leave and burning some sage usually does the trick, but no. More activity ensued. It seemed the more I saged, the more activity followed. Then the straw that broke the camel's back.

I had my small kitchen remodel in 2020 during lockdown. Everything seemed okay until recently. I had bought a spice rack that holds. the many spices that I frequently use, as I do a lot of baking. A week after purchasing and filling the rack, my employees stopped by and went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. His back was turned away from the rack, approximately three feet away, when suddenly spices started flying off the rack in an avalanche motion.

He turned to catch a few. I was a few feet away and came to help, thinking he must have bumped into the counter below the shelf that held the rack, causing the rack to shake or disturb, but no. I saged the entire kitchen, and I asked whatever it was to leave. I replaced the spices, and a few days later I was baking. My back was to this rack again,

and the spices flew off this rack at me. Also across the room by the sink, a plastic container and a few prep bowls also fell over. and then a small wooden angel in the room next to the kitchen flew off the shelf. Totally fed up, I called a friend who does ghost clearings. Not sure if she did distance clearings as she lived in the west coast, and I lived near Chicago. I told her that I must have a portal. She scanned my house from the distance and informed me that I had four open portals,

which she closed immediately and cleared the entities. I've held my breath, but I'm happy to say it's been a month and no activity thus far. However, I still do sleep with one eye open. When I was about four or five years old, I had a peculiar experience that has stayed with me to this day. Like many children, I was fascinated by the idea that special powers existed, probably influenced by the cartoons I watched on Cartoon Network, to be honest. So, one day, I got it into my head that if I concentrated hard enough, I might be able to influence matter with my mind. My target was the plastic bed of my toy truck that I owned.

I don't know why I chose it, but I was determined to try and break through the plastic using nothing but the focus of my thoughts. I remember sitting there, my little hands growing sweaty with effort as I focused all my mental energy on that single spot. Of course, nothing happened. Disappointed, I eventually gave up and went on about my day. The incident slipped from my mind as I moved on to other childish pursuits. The truly strange part came the next morning. When I woke up and went to play with my toys, I was shocked to find a small hole in the exact spot on the truck bed,

where I had been concentrating my efforts the day before. Confused and a little scared, I ran to my grandmother to ask if she had heard anything break during the night. To my surprise, she said yes, she had heard something. My parents naturally were skeptical. They assumed the whole had always been there, and I simply hadn't noticed it before. But I knew differently. Or at least, I thought I did. To this day, I'm not really sure what exactly happened.

Was it a genuine paranormal event? A strange coincidence? Or simply a false memory created by an imaginative child's mind? I've tried to recreate the effect since then, but never with any success. This experience, as inexplicable as it is, has always made me wonder about the hidden potentials of the human mind, and the nature of reality itself. While I don't claim to have psychic powers,

This childhood memory is a reminder that there's still so much about our world that we don't understand. I still have no clue what that was, so let's end here. This is a story from when I was in college up in Sudbury, Ontario, many years ago. I lived in a house just off campus with a few roommates, in a bungalow that was divided into two apartments. The landlord and one girl lived upstairs, which she ran. rented a bedroom, and I lived downstairs with my boyfriend and one of his best friends. Every one of us experienced weird things while living there, all of which were quite innocent. Things like the shower running, but nobody turning it on, footsteps when nobody was around,

the VCR turning on and clicking around by itself, which they used to do, but sometimes it seemed like a little extra, and sometimes there was a door shutting. Nothing too much, but enough to make you go, hmm, and get a little creeped out. But there was this one time that got me turning all the lights on. It isn't as scary as some stories that come in, but creepy, all the same. I stayed at home studying one week as I had a test coming up, and my roommates were all out partying. The girl that lived upstairs was away that weekend as well, and had asked me to keep an eye and ear open to make sure nobody came into her room, as she had some valuables in there, and the landlord was not there either, most likely at his girlfriend's house, as he spent a good bit of time there on the regular.

So, all was quiet while I was studying, when I hear the upstairs front door that leads outdoors open and shut. I assume it's my landlord and go back to studying, keeping one year open since the girl upstairs had asked me to. Then I hear footsteps across the floor. Now, just a little info about this house, it was a bit older, and so the floor always creaked when the people upstairs walked around.

These footsteps did not create creaking, which now got my full attention. As I sat there and was now listening, intently, I started to hear what sounded like a large box or something being pushed across the floor, along with more creek-free footsteps. I got goosebumps. I decided to check upstairs to see if anyone was home, so I went up the small flight of stairs to check the door. It was locked, and all the lights were off. The dividing door was a glass one with the white set of shears for privacy, so it was easy to see if any lights were on, even if in another room.

Nobody appeared to be home. Okay, I thought. So I decided to go downstairs and continue studying. Weirded out, but not entirely surprised, since we do regularly experience things. Nonetheless, the lights all were not on. A few minutes later, I heard more boxes being pushed around, more footsteps, minus the creaking. and then the front door open and shut.

At this point, I'm super curious. I need to see what's up. Since I was in Sudbury, and we had just had about two feet or so of fresh powder snowfall, I decided to go out to the driveway to see who or what might be there. To my surprise, there was not a track up the driveway, walkway or steps up to the door. Not a tire track,

and not even a step at the foot of the driveway. There was no trace of anything. The light stayed on until my roommates got home, and I filled them in on the events they missed out on. Nobody was really surprised, but we still decided to confront the landlord. He told me that the house was absolutely haunted, but he's not advertising that. The previous owners had apparently died in the bathtub,

and they weren't found for three days, and they've been puttering around the house ever since. Hey, Raven, a long-time listener and probably fifth or sixth-time submitter. Lots of weird stuff happens to me. I have no idea what to call this or how you'll categorize it if you feature it, but I feel like my whole life I've carried this magnetic energy that attracts the strangest of coincidences. Sometimes they're so weird that I feel like I'm living in a TV show,

or a simulation event. So maybe this is a Matrix event. A very silly one, though. The other day, a friend and I were on our way to go look at some houses for rent. For some context as to what follows, I work at a luxury car dealership as a service advisor. I make commissions on car repairs.

I have contacts with a lot of other dealerships in the area who text or call me directly when they have a used car, that is one of my own dealership's brands if they needed to be inspected and or repaired. I had recently gotten several cars from the Mercedes-Benz dealership. My friend and I drove past that dealership, and I'm kind of goofy, so I finger-gunned the dealership and said, thanks for the money. Literally the exact moment that I did that, my contact from Mercedes texted me to tell me they'd be sending another car when I returned to work the following day. We were both like,

whoa, that was pretty weird. We didn't think too much of it. Since we were then on the topic of cars, my friend mentioned she recently heard a funny song about Subaru's. As she was playing the song for me, we both decided that we were hungry. At the very last minute, we crossed three lanes of traffic to pull into a Wawa.

For those of you who don't know, it's a gas station restaurant hybrid that actually has real food. that we happened to be passing. As we were pulling into the Wawa parking lot, still playing this dumb Subaru song, we saw a Subaru WRX parked at one of the pumps. We giggled about it for a second,

but it's not uncommon to see a Subaru, so whatever, right? But as we started to drive past the WRX in order to reach the parking area, my former coworker, who I hadn't seen in the months since he left, stepped out of the car, wearing none other than a Subaru shirt. We were absolutely stunned, and we were laughing our back ends off at the same time. I know this is a very goofy story, but maybe it's a nice light-hearted change of pace among all the spooky ones.

Maybe you won't share it on your channel, I am, but I hope that you at least enjoyed reading it. Thanks, Raven. You should always bless your aunt. antiques. I recall having gone shopping a lot during the day and had several of these plastic bags in my bedroom, because before bed, I wanted to look at everything I'd found. I was in a fine and normal mood, but as soon as I'd turn off my light, I could just make out those bags on the nearby chair, and suddenly I heard all of this intense rustling and crinkling and bawling them up, rolling them shut and fiddling around with them like crazy.

And I became scared to death the longer someone or something continued doing this. I didn't have a cat anymore at that point, which could have sounded that way. No one was there, but it sounded like a human being searching through the five or so bags. The feeling was tangible in the room, is all I can tell you. And it grew more and more petrifying. I wish I knew where these things came from, as I do shop in peddler's malls or antique stores sometimes, and I do have an antique secretary desk, which is a fold-down desk that young ladies used to receive as a gift from family, around the 1920s, 30s, and 40s, and their wood frame, glass doors, housed bookshelves.

I got it in a haunted antique store one time. The doors will always open, and you cannot make them stay closed. Also, one day as I was placing something into it, out fell an old card, which I looked at. It was a 1940s calendar, of all things, smaller than a playing card, and it had a black and white photo of a bank that had advertised. It was weird. I have a couple of computers in the office next to my bedroom, but they were turned off, as were the radio and TV. I was taking a blouse out of my closet one morning to put on, and suddenly, all close up to my right ear, like someone way too close to you. I heard the old French song that, honestly, I've not even heard since childhood a couple of times.

I've never even taken a French class, but right into my ear I heard a female voice clear and strong sing two or three verses of this song. All in perfect French. I didn't recognize a word of it, so I couldn't just imagine it. It was nuts. I kept thinking, surely, it must be coming out of my office from the computer somehow. If you needed heightened computer security, could someone hack into mine, or could I pick up something next door that they were doing? I don't know, but that can't explain it talking right into my ear.

It was weird as heck. there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed this collection of scary stories on this episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast. If the platform you're on has the option to follow podcast and you enjoyed my work, please do consider doing so. Also, leaving ratings and reviews are super important for the algorithm to support the growth of the podcast. I'm just one guy doing this. I don't have a team. It's literally just me doing everything. So any support. like that is greatly appreciated. Never expected, though. So if you go above and beyond with that, I do appreciate it. Some platforms also allow you to leave comments, and if you feel inclined to do so,

please do. I would appreciate that. I do have a Patreon in a merch store that you can also check out if you want to support a little further. The Patreon side of things get you early access to all of my content. It is formatted differently as it goes in line with what my YouTube channel is, but it is the same stories, just different collections. There is also a website astherravendreams.com, where you can check out pretty much everything about me, my social media platforms, fiction stories I've written if you want to read those, as well as submitting your own stories, which there's a big button on the front page you click to do so, and those stories basically keep the podcast alive, to be honest with you.

So, yeah. All that said, friends, I do hope that I see you again here very soon. until then, remember that you are loved, that you are valid, that you are important. You're the best you that you can be. Don't forget it. And until next time, much love and sleep well.