As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 179 - Creepy Paranormal And Strange & Scary Stories from Listeners

Episode Date: June 14, 2025

Today, on the 179th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 13 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 Experiences as well as a mixed collection of other Strange & scary stories directly from listeners! If you enjoyed this episode, be sure to like or rate the podcast, and leave me a comment with your thoughts if the platform your own supports it! Scary story episodes Every 3 Days! If you have a story to submit, would like to find where to listen to the podcast, or want to find me on social media platforms, all of that info can be found at https://www.astheravendreams.com You can also send stories into my subreddit (r/theravensdream) or email them to me at [e-mail] Want to check out some ATRD Podcast Merch? ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Or for signed merch ➤ https://ko-fi.com/AsTheRavenDreams I wrote a novel, "The Insomniac's Experiment" by Raven Adams! Check it out on amazon (Or you can email me for a signed copy!) Join Patreon to get early access and support the Podcast! ➤ https://www.patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Check out my gaming channel with my pal Ghost_Ink ➤ @superNefariousBros On YouTube Disclaimer ➤ Episodes include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Listener discretion is always advised. ALL Audio and visuals on this podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format. Bless This Mess. Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in todays episode... Hidden Fox, thatonegirl2007, Yvette Moreno, Jei W., Horror_Obsessed_88, Kristina Icanovic, Haunted memories , Joe , kenny, Heather YB, Sidney Blue, Val, Jay Deeters As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… Ad After Story 1 and Story 6 1 ➤ 2:04 2 ➤ 7:33 3 ➤ 18:38 4 ➤ 22:03 5 ➤ 28:48 6 ➤ 36:31 7 ➤ 41:38 8 ➤ 43:55 9 ➤ 46:42 10 ➤ 53:44 11 ➤ 55:27 12 ➤ 1:01:00 13 ➤ 1:04:38 ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #Paranormal #RedditStories 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

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love that am. Hey there. Hi there. Hello there. My friends. Hope you're having a wonderful day

and I hope you have a great weekend after this. Today we have a collection of some paranormal stories and some other strange and scary stories, I guess is the best way to put it.

Stories that are either strange or scary or maybe they're strange and scary, it's kind of hard to say. Basically, today is a mishmash of topics. Not all paranormal. Not all basic, strange, scary stories. I don't know. Today's just a mix of stories. Hopefully you enjoy them. If not, stick around three more days and there will be another collection of stories coming up your way.

Um, if anyone's curious and if not, sorry, but uh, if anyone is, the move is going well. I know a few people commented on the last episode saying hope the move is going well. It is. It's going rather well. Um, a little slower than I'd prefer, but we did get a U-Haul truck up here from Kansas. Got all of our stuff out of it. So a lot of the big stuff here, not quite everything. You know how that is you can't quite fit everything into a single truck, right? It could never work out perfectly. But mostly everything's up here. We have things actually set up now. My desk is fully ready to go.

My wife's desk that's down here is ready to go. There's a couch down here now. I have a shelf behind me that's holding my printer because I still have a printer for various things. We got our kitchen set up. Got the living room set up with the entertainment center. The bookshelves I bought from Amazon to put next to the entertainment center. It looks kind of nice. I'm not bragging.

I'm just saying that it's coming together, I guess, is my point. Anyways, hope you enjoy the stories, and of course, I hope you have a great day and a great weekend. Great next week as well. Until then, my friends, like I said, enjoy. Hello, Raven. I originally found you on YouTube and was so happy to discover that you have a podcast since I listen to them at work. I love your content. Thank you.

So, anyway, this happened to me and my boyfriend at the time. time about eight years ago. We decided to take a trip to Estes Park, Colorado, one winter. We rented a cozy little cabin for a few days. The first night we were in there, we settled in at the cabin and went to dinner at a quiet restaurant, with a huge window looking out at a dark, woodsy area while the snow fell. It was beautiful, but kind of spooky, if that makes sense. We continued on to the famous and haunted Stanley Hotel that was Stephen King's

inspiration for the book The Shining. We had booked a couple of tickets for the latest ghost tour that night, about 10 p.m., I believe. We went all over the hotel, while the tour guide told stories about the hotel and described a lot of the haunting experiences people had had. I was an avid picture taker at this point, and I brought my camera everywhere. I was snapping picture after picture. I'll describe some of these photos later. After the tour, we went back to the cabin and sat in the bed watching a little TV before we went to sleep.

I closed the bedroom door because I always do that. Not sure why. But since I was a teenager, I've always closed my bedroom door when it's time to sleep. I fell asleep almost immediately while my boyfriend sat up watching TV for a while. Soon after falling asleep, I woke up to knocking. I sat up in bed and looked at. towards the bedroom door. The knocking was on the bedroom door.

I know it was. Because the door was getting hit so hard that it was shaking in the frame with each knock. I was so out of it and still half asleep so I simply said, someone's knocking at the door. My boyfriend called out.

Hello? Who's there? But the knocking just continued, shaking the door. It probably only lasted for about 20, seconds, but it felt so much longer. I lay down and went back to sleep like nothing weird had happened. In the morning, I woke up, and this memory immediately came back to me. Since I was half asleep, I asked my boyfriend for confirmation.

Hey, did someone knock on our bedroom door last night? And he had a horrified look on his face and said, yeah, the door was literally shaking in the frame. I asked him what he did. He said, Well, you were half asleep and seemed completely unconcerned, and I was freaked out, so I just ignored it and eventually fell asleep. The logical thing to do was to check the doors,

so I got up and checked the front door. It was locked. I checked the sliding glass back door, and it was also locked. No one could have gotten in last night, and nothing was stolen or moved. or anything. I told him, well, if it happens again tonight and I'm sleeping,

wake me up so I can investigate. He said, investigate, you mean open the door? And then I said yes. He then continued, and let it in. I laughed and said, Sorry to burst your bubble, Jesse, but if it's a ghost,

it won't be held by the confines of that door anyway. It didn't happen again the next two nights that we stayed there, and when I got home, I finally decided to go through the photos that I took at the haunted hotel. I was shocked to see orbs everywhere. Not tiny ones that could be dust or bugs, but large ones. There were ones that were green and appeared to glow.

They were perfect circles, with the edge glowing the brightest and the middle was slightly transparent. They were invisible to the naked eye. At one point during the tour, I took a photo of my boyfriend, and this one freaked me out the most. He was surrounded by glowing orbs. Some just specks, some were large, glowing ones about the size of my fist, and one was half the size of his head.

My camera would autofocus and never had any issues. However, in this photo, the orbs, although invisible to the naked eye, were so prominent that the camera focused on the orbs, which were crystal clear, and my boyfriend was fuzzy and out of focus. I think that I still have these photos on one of my many memory cards and photo CDs, and when I have some time, I'm going to go through them. If I can find them, I'll add them to this post. I honestly think that something followed us from the haunted Stanley Hotel back to our cabin that night.

I wish I had fully woken up and gotten up to see what was. going on. I'll never know what truly happened, but I will never forget what happened that night. Hey, Raven. I wanted to share this story from my 12th grade post-graduation summer vacation in 2011. Since while I was at work, my boss mentioned throwing a birthday party for her daughter and hiring a clown. Instinctively, four of our co-workers, including myself, all shouted, no clowns simultaneously.

If the story gets read, please understand everyone that this wasn't funny to us kids until years later. We all hate clowns, and for a good reason. And as always, this is a true story. After we graduated, we all really thought that we were invincible. And since most of our high school friends survived the chaos, and we were headed in different directions post-graduation, we spent some time enjoying our last summer vacation before going off to college, starting work, moving, or even getting married as a few of our friends did. On the street behind us in the back of our neighborhood,

there was a man who looked to be in his mid-40s, and he had that usual almost bald look and a slightly pudgy belly. He was known for being awkward, especially since his front yard was littered with junk, car parts, random statues, and skeletons, and even some weird welded sculptures that no one could identify, well, except the one that looked like Megatron. We all stayed away from this man's house. Parents and kids alike avoided that man because he was weird. He would blast loud music, most of which sounded like Led Zeppelin or ACDC, and he drove a loud, beat-up 1970s car that had been a big of been stripped down to the primer.

We knew when he was leaving or coming home late at night, because the whole neighborhood heard that junk car roaring down the street, running stop signs and burning rubber. Well, here's the story of what happened, and if David is listening, I hope you're doing well and just know I still think that you're an idiot for this. My friend David and one of his friends, Jose, had gotten into a dare contest of seeing who would go

touched the crazy man's doorbell. And one Friday afternoon in the middle of summer, they both apparently went to ring his doorbell, and he came out with a shotgun, screaming about calmly bastards, and then they took off running, to my house of all places. They came over and asked me to come out, and I opened up the garage to let them come hang, as we often did. But instead, they scurried into my garage, slammed the door down and hid in my garage giggling like a couple of morons.

I asked them what happened, and they didn't say anything shushing me instead. Then, minutes later, I heard the roaring engine of the crazy man's ridiculously loud car, with the song Rambal On blasting loud on his radio as he went down our street. I put two and two together and asked him what the hell they did. At first David said they were just outside, and this. man went on a rampage, but Jose told true. I went off on them for bringing this to my house, and told them that if they wanted to survive high school, just to get killed over the summer, then they would have to do it on the other side

of the neighborhood, away from my house. Long story short, nothing happened that day, and once the crazy man went home, David and Jose left my house. Months later, in October, We all decided to go to the Halloween Scare Night events at one of the major theme parks. I'm not usually one to celebrate, but I didn't mind hanging out with friends who did, so. We piled into David's new car and headed to the theme park, which I will leave unnamed. There were a lot of people in costumes, as well as theme park staff that had been hired to scare and interact with the park visitors. Some of them were very creepy and in character, and we had a great time. until it started getting dark.

Jose kept complaining that he had to go to the bathroom, so we went through one more scarehouse and headed to one of the main food court areas to find a restroom. We passed by a group of people in costumes, and I remember feeling creeped out when I saw this clown staring at us. He was wearing a greasy yellow clown suit, a bright red wig, and the usual face paints and shoes, nose, etc. but he didn't seem as animated as the other parkgoers. He kept staring at us,

and eventually I looked away and Jose found the restroom near a popcorn stand and we waited. The clown actually walked past us and eyeballed David and I, and then he went into the restroom where Jose had just gone, and came running out, laughing maniacally seconds later. Jose emerged shortly after him, frantic asking us if we heard the crazy clown man, we told him to calm down and tell us what happened. Apparently, the clown man went into the restroom and stood outside of the stall where he was, told him he knew who Jose was, said his name, and then said he was going to introduce him to Mr.

Hammer when he came out. Apparently he banged on the stall door and laughed crazily at Jose, who of course had a meltdown, and that's why we saw the clown come running out. We tried to tell Jose that the guy probably worked for the theme park, and maybe he heard us calling each other by name and decided to get extra points or reviews for the theme park by trying to scare some kids to death. We didn't really know what to make of it, but we did spend a few more hours there before we got tired of seeing the clown pop up and watch us, and then eventually decided to go home.

This is where things went sideways. Since David drove us, we went back to his house and hung out outside talking for a while and eventually ended up walking up and down the street as we talked about life after high school. And how it felt odd to not have to go to school for 90% of our days anymore, even though I was actually in college and had a split schedule of early and evening classes. As we reached the streetlight at the end of the street, I'll never forget how. how crazy we felt when we saw the crazy man's car come roaring around the corner on almost two wheels. Engine growling like an angry animal, and he was laying on the horn as his headlights aimed toward the sidewalk that we were on. He came right at us, and of course we all jumped and dived out of the way. I remember Jose screaming out, what the hell, you crazy ass man? And I picked

myself up off the ground from where I landed and looked in the driver's seat, only to see that driving the car was the clown from the theme park. He got out of the driver's seat and said something incoherent, but I could make out in his odd New York accent that he said, Yeah, you call me a freaking clown? You messed with my house, broke my damn sculptures, and you called me a clown? You thought I forgot. Well, guess what? You got exactly what you asked for. I'm bum freak the clown. Yeah, you got your clown right here. Yeah, so by this point, we were running for our lives. The man jumped back in his car and tore down the road to cut us off again, so we immediately turned back and hopped a fence into someone's backyard, and continued to do so

as we heard the clown man tearing it up and down the street looking for us. We cut across enough backyards to reach one of the walking trails in our neighborhood and proceeded to catch our breaths before we heard the sound of screeching tires, followed by the quick thumps of heavy, fast footsteps. Down the trail and to our right was the crazy clown man. I told you I'd introduce you to Mr. Hammer, you disrespectful brats, the man yelled, and we again took off in the opposite direction, back towards the regular neighborhood streets. There was a little bit of a man looking outside in his yard and we found out why as we approached him and saw that someone had ran his mailbox over. We quickly began asking him for help and telling him that a crazy

clown was trying to kill us. He didn't seem to believe us until we begged him to help us, and Jose managed to call 911 as this was happening. Just as the man in his yard was about to send us on our way, the crazy clown man actually came running off the trail toward us. with what I realized was actually a decent-sized hammer in his right hand. By this point, we were piling onto the front porch the man that we were trying to convince. He started cursing and then did something we didn't expect. He pulled a gun on the clown man and shouted, Police department letters, officer, drop the hammer and get on the ground.

The clown man stopped in his tracks and didn't move, Still clenching the hammer until the man that we now knew was an officer insisted with stronger language that he wasn't playing. Eventually more officers from the neighborhood patrol showed up with lights on and ended up arresting the crazy clown man, all while he kept insisting that we were harassing him, and that he had to show us the hammer of justice, and also calling us communist spies.

They took our statement, and of course, I mentioned what happened at the theme park earlier that evening. So the man was arrested. A week later, David actually came clean when I grilled him with questions. And while they hadn't messed with the crazy clown man since summer, it turns out the day they did, they hadn't just been playing ding-dong ditch. They actually did knock over one of the statues in his yard and broke it, and had shouted some insults through his door to get him to come out

so they could take off running. They didn't expect him to bring a shotgun to the door or to go looking for them, and I did curse David out for running to my house and putting me and my parents at risk. So, yeah, that's my crazy clown story, and I hope that you guys liked it. For starters, I'm a very skeptical person, pragmatic, and very down. to earth, so to say. But what happened to me in my dream kind of changed everything. I was always very close to my grandparents on my father's side. I had a difficult family situation, and they were always there for me. Ever since I can remember, me and my sister spent summer

holidays on the countryside with my grandparents. When I was 10, we moved in the city near the countryside, and we spent every weekend with them. A few years ago, I was 10, I was a few years ago, I moved to another country and I could only visit my family two to three times a year. When I was pregnant with my second child, my grandpa got sick. Nothing too serious, but there were some complications, and he did die. I was devastated, and I couldn't even go to the funeral because I was pregnant. My grandma started to get sick shortly after and died the next year. My oldest daughter had some health issues, and we were in the middle of a time.

of doctor's appointments, which were hard to get, and we just couldn't miss them. I was very sad that I missed another funeral, but we planned to visit the family in a few months, so that made me feel a little better, but I still felt sad and guilty. One night, though, I had a dream. Usually when I think of death and dead people in my dreams, I get really spooked, but this time I felt really calm in this dream. I dreamt that my father was leading me to my grandparents' house. It was very dark and we came to the door.

He said, you have to go in alone, so I did. There in the living room were my grandparents. The room was exactly as I remember it. It was very light and warm. My grandpa stood up kind of surprised to see me, but then he hugged me and said, like he always used to. Hello, my little daughter.

And I said, It's so good to see you. I miss you so much. What are you doing here? To which he said, I was just waiting for Grandma. And then he turned around and I looked at her. She was beautiful.

Cheeks red, eyes bright and happy. She just smiled. She was very skinny and old when she died, but now she was so full of life. About the age she was when I was a little girl. I hugged them both, and my grandpa just said, Go, my daughter, we are fine. Then I woke up in the middle of the night.

But surprisingly for me, I wasn't scared at all. I called my dad the next day and told him about it, and he told me that he dreamt about a light, a warm light flying and disappearing into the sky. Today, I don't know if my guilt made up that dream so that I could say goodbye, or if my grandparents are somewhere where we're not allowed. And someone let me in for just a second.

Either way, I felt better and at ease, knowing that they are together. I'm not sure if this is considered a glitch, but I love listening to your channel and hearing everyone's stories, and I thought it might fit here. For context, me and my sister found a sleepover game to play together on nights when we were bored. Since we shared a room, it made it easy for us to stay up and play spooky games to scare ourselves. Our favorite game was Red Door Yellow Door. This game was very interesting, as the premise was that one player sits on the other player's lap and closes their eyes and raises their arms straight up.

The other players starts chanting, Red Door, Yellow Door, any other color door, repeatedly until their arms dropped. The person who was chanting would ask Quentin. of what they saw in their head and tell them where to go. The game was to pick doors, and, as the name implied, they could be any color, anywhere, and they led to other rooms. There were a couple of interesting things to keep in mind. The darker the door, the more evil or scary it was. And if you saw the man in the hat, you had to leave immediately. Leaving the game was just sitting up, so you had the choice at any time.

This sounds like a typical person leading the other person as their imagination creates scenes, right? And that's what I thought, and we played it many times with me never being able to imagine barely anything. I could barely get a single door to appear, and if I did many times, it would just lead to nothing. I thought I was just too smart to fall for the trick, but my sister seemed to fall for it perfect, I didn't want to ruin her fun, so I never explained how it was most likely just a mind trick, and we kept playing every other couple weeks on nights when we were bored. One night we were playing, and I decided to try my luck at the game. I laid my head in her lap, put my arms up, and tried my hardest to let my subconscious mind take over,

and not ruin the fun for myself. My arms started falling and I only realized once they were about halfway down. My arms finally fell and my sister asked me what I saw. This is where it gets weird. Like I stated, I was pretty bad at this, so I would usually see one or two doors, usually red and or yellow. The rest of the room would be a sort of void with the wall that I could just distinguish for the door to be on. This time I was standing in what seemed to be the middle of this void-type room. The only thing around me was a light bulb hanging from a single chain.

I told my sister all of this as I felt my pulse go up and got suddenly very nervous. This game had rarely ever made us scared at this point. It was more of a fun exploration kind of game. My sister then asked if I could swing the light bulb around me and look if I could see. anything. With a little hesitancy, I said yes and did that. Once the light swung around me, and once I caught it, and felt even more nervous this time with no clue as to why. I figured I was just scaring myself with my imagination. My sister asked me to swing the light once again, and with even more reluctance, I agreed. I swung the light, and now I was almost on the verge of a panic

attack, and my sister could tell. But since I hadn't ended the game, she knew that I wasn't at my limit, and asked me to swing the light one more time since there was nothing else I could do. And without even thinking, I said something along the lines

of, no, he's going to get me if I swing it one more time. This freaked the hell out of my sister, as she backed up, basically forcing me out of the game. I realized that, It was the so-called man that was in these games when you went too deep.

I told my sister what happened and felt genuinely scared and on the edge of tears. I felt like I couldn't leave the game and I'm not sure why, but it just felt wrong. I wrote this off as me watching too many horror movies or creepypast as in just scaring myself. Years later, I was over at a friend's house and I was sleeping over with about five other people when the night starts to get a little boring. My friend asked if we should play scary sleepover games, and everyone else agreed. I suggested red door, yellow door, and only my friend agreed to play after I explained what it was. I told her about the man and how if she saw him, she had to leave immediately.

We both played, and pushed each other to go through the darkest door and to the lowest or most evil points, and the game gradually got creepier. We both ended up having to end our game because we both encountered the Hatman. I thought it was just us both exaggerating and having good imaginations. As a little experiment, I suggested that we should both draw the man while not looking at each other's papers. She agreed, because she also thought it was a good idea to really test out the reality of this game, and whether or not it was just a trick. We sat not facing each other at all and both sketched out what we saw, and when we showed each other what they were, they were near identical.

Genuinely, when I was drawing, I was just drawing exactly what I had seen in the game with no intention that they would look alike at all. The only difference was our drawing capabilities and styles. We both got creeped out, but since we were both kind of into supernatural things, we also thought it was kind of cool and kept comparing them and how similar they were. Both of the drawings were done in my sketchbook, with me doing mine first, flipping it to the other side and watching her draw hers out. I know that she didn't copy my drawing because it took about three minutes for each of us, and I watched her the whole time. I might be able to find the sketchbook tomorrow,

but I've gone through about ten at this point, and I'm writing this at 1 a.m. Let me be know if you're interested in seeing the pictures, and I'll dig up my old notebooks. Every time I listen to this podcast, I think about writing in with my experience, but could never bring myself to do it until now. This happened to me back in the mid to late 80s. It haunted me all my life and terrified me so deeply as a child that I never shared it with anyone. I grew up in a small town in the south. We were a well-established. We were a well-established. neighborhood of low to middle class families. My sister is four years older than me and was in middle school when this occurred.

She and my mother had purchased one of those make-your-own dollhouse kits, where you paint the house and then buy all the furniture for it. The kind that they sell at a craft store, not a toy store. I would have been around second or third grade. I was super jealous of this house. They spent so much time on it, and they kept telling me. telling me I was too young to have one. They were putting wallpaper in it and carpets,

all this cool antique-looking furniture. I was very envious. About one to two weeks after they started this dollhouse, I had gone for a walk in the neighborhood. Back in the 80s, we were pretty much free to roam around. A few houses down my street, I see a dollhouse that someone had put out by their weekly trash. I couldn't believe my luck.

It was a very similar style to the one that my sister had. I looked it over and couldn't see anything wrong with it. I couldn't figure out why someone would have just put it out in the trash pile. It was especially odd given the house it was at. They were a poorer family that had three girls. I'd been at their house countless times, and I had never seen anything like this in their house. After looking it over, I decided it must just be my lucky day.

I took the dollhouse home and put it in my playroom. My house was one of those split-level homes, where you entered on one floor and all the bedrooms were upstairs, and the playroom was in the basement. My parents did not believe our bedroom should be used for hanging out in. We only used them for sleep, and all of our toys were in the basement. I spent the rest of the day in the basement playing, with that new dollhouse.

That night, I went to bed as normal. My sister and I shared a room, and I was having a hard time sleeping. I really wanted to keep playing with that new dollhouse. My sister was asleep, so I poked my head out into the hallway, and it appeared that my parents and brother were sleeping as well. I thought that it sounded like a good idea to sneak downstairs. I walked down that first flight of stairs. and then came to the stairs that led to the basement.

The basement was pitch black, except for our light switch. We had a light switch in the basement that would glow orange when it was in the off position, that way you could see where it was on the wall. I was sitting on the top step looking into the basement feeling a little scared because it was so dark, and the orange light had an ominous glow. After sitting there for a few minutes, I started to be a little bit. started hearing a voice talking to me. It was a low voice, deep, and I couldn't quite make out what it was saying.

For some reason, instead of scaring me more, I started walking into the basement to see if I could figure out where this voice was coming from and what it was saying. As I walked downstairs, I turned on the light so I could see better. I could tell the voice was coming from the dollhouse. As I got closer, I could hear that it was saying horrible things. It was talking about wanting to take my soul and sending me to hell. This is something I've pondered on more the older I've gotten. My family was not very religious, and we come from an episcopal church background. I'm not sure why I thought of how I would have known this at a young age,

but I knew this voice belonged to a demon. I just knew it. I could feel it almost like it told me. I started telling it to shut up and that I didn't believe in it, and that it should leave me alone. It had almost a cloud-like presence, and it was coming out of the dollhouse and moving toward me. It was moving in a direction that prevented me from going up the stairs.

Instead, it was pushing me to move to the next room in our basement, which was my father's office. I kept telling it to leave me alone and go away. I was shouting at it at the top of my lungs, and I remember wondering why the rest of my family couldn't hear me screaming. I'm getting really scared at this point. I'm trapped in a room with no other exits, and even though I'm screaming, no one can seem to hear me.

Then, suddenly, a super bright swirling light appeared above me. It was almost like a tornado funnel with all this wind and light swirling. It sucked the demon into the light, and I remember having this feeling like it told me to run now. I turned and ran out of the room and towards the staircase leading back towards the rest of the house. The staircase had 10 to 12 stairs, and I remember thinking, I'm going to make it. I'm going to get away from this thing. I had two steps left to go when I felt a hand, grab my right ankle, and start pulling me back into the basement. I was screaming and I was using my hands to try to hold on to the top of the stairs.

I took my free leg and kicked with all of my might. I got free and continued running as fast as I could. I ran up the second flight of stairs to our bedrooms. I ran to the room that I shared with my sister and slammed the door. I was standing next to my sister's bed when she awoke with the start. She definitely heard the door slam. She kept asking me what was wrong, but I would have to be. I was so scared that I couldn't speak.

I didn't have the ability to make a single sound. I guess I freaked my sister out enough that she went and got my parents. I went and slept in their room for the rest of the night. The next day, I walked into the basement, grabbed the dollhouse and took it back to where I found it on the side of the road. Whatever it was, it was attached to that dollhouse. The demon, or spirit, whatever it was, never came back. Throughout my whole life, I've always been the type of person to have repeated dreams about things that happened,

but I have never had a dream that made me relive this experience. I will say that, for the next ten years at least, I would get a pit in my stomach as I approached that stair where it grabbed my ankle. I refused to step on that step. I would jump it every time. My parents still live in that house, and even now, 35 plus years later, I get scared when I start walking down that staircase. I can bring myself to step on that stair now, but I still think about that hand on my ankle that was trying to drag me down. Hello, Raven.

I have to start by saying what's really great about this forum. All my life, I have watched scary movies and sci-fi shows. Why is it that in every movie someone has the answer and never tells anyone? It drives me crazy. Right before things go awry, someone had the answer. Think about it. So many people have real life stories they have kept themselves for years, real paranormal events, alien encounters, glitch happenings.

And for the first time, people are openly sharing, and we're hearing about the events in real time. Some people are immediately writing them down, and that's exciting. I agree, thank you. When our daughter, Danny, was between three and four years old, she had what we first assumed was an imaginary friend. I would hear her talking to someone and go to her room to see her playing with her toys, engaged in conversation with someone that only she could see.

She would share her toys by holding them up to this person and talking about her day. It was all very innocence, and we never felt as if she was in any danger or traumatized in any way. After all, our life experience had been that imaginary friends were just an extension of a young child's make-believe world. As these make-believe encounters continued, my husband and I noticed that they were often preceded by the scent of cigarette smoke. Odd because no one smoked in our home. We would search our house looking for the source of the odor, even checking outside in the front and backyards, but nothing. The smoky smell seemed to announce the arrival of Danny's imaginary friend,

because soon after, she would start talking to this invisible person. We started wondering if this was a real someone or just her very vivid imagination. We once asked Danny who she was speaking with. She responded that it was an old man. adding that he was very nice, Mommy. Since both mine and my husband's fathers had passed before Danny was born, we showed her pictures of her deceased grandfathers, kind of hoping that one of them had reached out.

After all, they had both been smokers. We asked, is this who you're talking to? Without hesitation, she responded, no, not them. Kind of disappointed, and cigarettes smoke aside, we assumed that her imaginary friend was just that, child's imagination. These encounters continued for some time. However, since she didn't appear stressed or concerned,

we assumed that Danny would outgrow them. One day, when Danny was still in her imaginary friend phase, our family was sitting with other relatives and sharing memories about family who had passed. As we handed photos of them around the dining table, Danny came traipsing through, looked at the photos and immediately said, That's him. I responded, excuse me? And Danny answered, that's him, Mommy, my friend that I talked to.

The room went silent as we realized that she was pointing to a picture of Louis, my husband's brother, who had died about two years before Danny was born. He was in his mid-30s when he was killed in a motorcycle accident. To us, as grown-ups, that's a very young man, but obviously to a three-year-old child, he was an old man. Honestly, our spidey senses had not been working properly. The smell of the cigarettes prior and during his visit should have been a clue. Louis had been a regular smoker. He had died suddenly.

Maybe he hadn't been ready to move on. We knew that there was a special connection between Louis and Danny. When I was pregnant with Danny, she missed her due date and was two weeks overdue. My doctor announced that they would have to induce labor. We didn't think much about what day that was to take place, as I was very done with being pregnant. I was so ready to have her, but Danny was being so stubborn, refusing to be born until she was good and ready. She was so late in arriving that no one even guessed the birth dates in baby bingo. When Danny was finally born, she had what appeared to be a scar across her forehead, identical to the injury that took her uncle's life.

I guess that was very relevant since she was born on her Uncle Louis' birthday. In time, the scar did fade, as did the smell of cigarettes and visits from her imaginary friend, Uncle Louis. I hope to submit more, and I hope that you enjoyed this. Hi, Raven. I found your channel a few months ago, and your glitch videos are a regular bedtime routine for me now. My story is, however, paranormal in nature, and only just happened on February 23rd. I live at home with mom and younger brother. Last night, my brother was working a night shift, so not at home, and my mom was in her own room fast asleep.

I went to bed late, around 3 a.m., and I woke up to the sound of the car. coffee table in my room being dragged towards my bed at around four in the morning. I woke up startled, put out my hand to stop the coffee table, and couldn't help but shout, What the hell? The room was dark, so I couldn't see clearly, or see anything, but I got up and switched the light on. The door was closed, and nobody was around or awake in the house. The next day, I was thinking to myself, that was definitely not a lot of.

a dream. But then started doubting myself. Surely it wasn't some sort of paranormal activity out of nowhere. I wasn't even 100% convinced that such a thing really existed. However, I tell my brother lightheartedly about what happened, and we were kind of joking about it until later on when I told my mom, and it suddenly dawned on her that it was her late mother's 26th anniversary. I'm now convinced that this was not a vivid dream and not a coincidence. My grandmother was very close to my mom and would be in our house daily when I was young.

My mom told me that it would have been around the same time in the early hours of the morning that her mom, my grandmother, passed away. I hope this was just a friendly hello from my granny, but I can't help but feel a little freaked out. Wish me luck falling asleep again tonight.

Also, I remember that I used to love asking my granny to tell me ghost stories as she knew loads of them, and was a great storyteller. Hi, Raven. Back when I was a teenager, my family took a summer trip to visit my grandmother. My grandfather had passed away in 1984, so we wanted to visit the cemetery and take some flowers. My grandmother had recently been and didn't want to go with us this time. We cleaned up my grandfather's plot and added the new flowers. My mother was the only one who wore a watch that day,

so she was going to keep an eye on the time because we wanted to leave around 4.30 to pick up some groceries and some supper to take back to my grandmother. The cemetery was in a bit of disarray, with flowers and all sorts of little things scattered around. Maybe a recent storm had done it. Anyway, we cleaned and neatened the surrounding graves as much as we could.

We checked with my mother about the time, and she answered that it was not yet four o'clock. So we kept walking and talking and clearing and cleaning. We really got things looking better. We checked with my mother again, but it was not yet four o'clock. So we tended my grandfather's spot some more and just took our time. Eventually, we noticed the sun was setting. We asked my mother about the time. And again, it was not.

Not yet four o'clock. That's when she realized her watch had stopped. What time was it? We had no idea. We judged that we had only been sitting at the cemetery for an hour or so, so how was the sun setting? We hurriedly ran to our car and jumped in. My grandmother must have been very upset when we didn't come home back on time. My mother was very disappointed with her watch.

It was a wind-up and very reliable. She took it off, shook her. It's listened to it, but it just wouldn't work. She threw it in frustration, and it bounced off the windshield landing on the dash. My dad drove us out of the cemetery, and we were all silent. Just as we crossed the gate, we heard tick, tick, tick. My mother's watch had started working again. We hurried to my grandmother, and she was worried.

She had already called the highway patrol to report us missing. My dad ran to the store to get the food. We told my grandmother what had happened, and she said, Oh, that was your grandfather. He had always said the young folks were in such a hurry, never taking the time to truly slow down and enjoy a good visit. He promised one day that he would stop our watches so we wouldn't know when it was time to leave. I have a story that I'm reluctant to tell anyone,

because I do have some superstitions about these events. But here I go anyway. I should warn that if you are distressed about stories involving, blood, you may want to skip this one. When I was a child, not sure how old I was, I could only guess maybe around nine years old, I had a very vivid nightmare, something that would seem to become strangely relevant later in my life. I was lost in a dark basement of my grandmother's house.

Because it was dark and difficult to see, I couldn't find the light switch, but then the bathroom light came on by itself. As I approached the bathroom, I realized the toilet was full of blood, and there were wads of blood-soaked toilet paper shaped like footprints, leading away from the toilet around the corner and into a bigger room that we weren't normally allowed to go into. I noticed a mirror in the bathroom, which I didn't recognize, but it stood out because it was a Chinese style, in-round and very elaborate. it. I had never seen anything like it in real life. Also, I noticed the walls weren't the right

color as they were yellow instead of white. I finally decided to follow the bloody toilet paper footprints to figure out where they led to. I opened the door to the big basement room and managed to find the light switch and turn it on. It just looked like a normal room, and the footprints didn't continue beyond the door. I finally felt comfortable walking into it, and as I did so, the door slammed shut behind me, and the light started flickering on and off really fast, and it wouldn't stop. I could hear some weird and alarming sounds, but I can't really remember what they were, other than sounding very muffled and scary.

I woke up feeling panicked. Twenty years later, I rented a basement to live in. It suited my needs and was really cheap. When I went into the bathroom, I noticed the yellow walls and looked to my left. I then noticed that same circular Chinese-style mirror that I had only seen in a dream as a kid. I tried to pass it off as a creepy coincidence, but it always made me feel a bit uneasy. At one point, I actually asked myself, What if someone had died there years ago,

and maybe my dream was telling me something about it. But that was a long time ago and in another place, so it doesn't make any sense. After living there for some time and getting more comfortable with using that creepy bathroom, I had an accident doing pull-ups where the bar came down and busted up my nose. It turned out that the wood on one side was corrupted and broke loose, causing the bar to fall and hit my face. I ran for tissues in that weird bathroom to try to stop the bleeding. As I fumbled with the toilet paper, I kept dropping wads of it on the floor, which ended up soaking up blood as it poured down to my feet.

I was swallowing as much blood as was coming out of my nose, trying not to choke as I leaned over the toilet, so as to not get as much blood as possible on the floor. After some time, I got it to slow somewhat, with large amounts going all the way back into my nasal passages. It hurt, but I didn't care. The blood had to stop. However, I was still swallowing it, and my stomach was extremely full, and I started to feel really sick. I looked in the mirror, and I looked white as a ghost, as though I had turned into a vampire, and my whole body was shaking. The sick feeling overwhelmed me, and...

Well, I vomited into the toilet, and it was getting quite full of blood at this point. So I knew that I was in a lot of trouble. Shaking, I proceeded to run around the corner to my bedroom to lie down as I was feeling weak. I stopped at the door, and I remembered that dream, and even more feelings of terror started to sink in, as I realized I made blood-soaked footprints behind me leading up to the door. reflecting on my old nightmare, I considered the danger as I realized I may have lost too much blood and should probably go to the hospital. I'll skip the details about getting to the hospital, while still bleeding way too much,

but when I got there, I probably looked like a dying car accident victim, covered from face to feet in blood. I've been to that emergency entrance before, and usually the emergency wait times, were about six hours or longer. They skipped the formalities, and rushed me into a nose specialist and fixed me up with carterization and realignment and such, basically using chemical and electricity

to burn the blood vessel shut. They went quickly and used no pain killers, but I was never so glad to be in so much pain in my entire life. After realizing that I may have almost died by that point, feeling like I was going to pass out, at any moment. Later, I still felt creeped out by that bathroom in that mirror, but sometimes I wonder if that was all some kind of warning,

or somehow I died in a previous life loop. I mean, I don't even really have a theory, and I don't know how to interpret it, and I still don't know if I fully believe in that stuff. After some time, I came home one night after working a weekend night shift, when I turned on the lights in my bedroom. It began flickering uncontrollably, which I then turned it off and used the lamp instead. Normally this wouldn't have phased me, but at this point with me focused on that nightmare

and recent past events, I wasn't taking any chances. I packed all of my important things which I could fit into my car and moved away to stay with a friend immediately. I found out later that people, with full body suits, goggles and respirators were going into the house with dozens of fan systems and plastic sheets to air it out. As it turned out, behind the walls in that basement there was a deadly type of black mold growing with absurd concentrations of toxins in the air. It's not exactly the type of place you would want to sleep, if you planned on staying alive. Back in 2019, my house was getting

renovated due to a slab leak that had gotten worse over the 20 years we owned the house. We needed to leave, so we went to our cabin up deep in the woods. Let's just make it clear that this was my great-great-grandma's house in the early 60s, so it was really old. As soon as we got up there, some odd occurrences started, like lights flickering on and off, and pictures falling off the walls, but we just ignored it. One night, it went too far. It happened on the fourth day we were there. We were all asleep when all the sudden we heard stomping coming from the hall,

and this was a loud stomping back and forth, until it just stopped. Then, early the next morning, I woke up to a figure standing in my doorway. It was humming a soft tune. It was like a nursery rhyme, but off. The second I heard the humming, I felt scared, and all of a sudden I blacked out and then woke up on the floor. I told my mom about it the next morning, and she told me that she heard a loud bang from my room and came and running. She saw me on the floor and looked around, only to see my great-great-grandma. But she was smiling and humming the same tune that I heard, and she blacked out too.

We left that cabin in a matter of hours. and I hope to never experience that again. Hey, Raven, I mentioned you about all of the crazy stories I have for my time working at the Electronics Recycling Center and Computer Repair and Resale Shop. This is pretty much the very next thing that happened after the whole situation with the phone. As always, this is a true story. The storefront location of the Computer Repair and Resale Shop It was actually in a different building a couple of blocks from the recycle center.

The owner acquired the recycle center location and wanted to keep the two businesses separate in an attempt to avoid any unnecessary robberies or clutter in the main storefront, since whatever we salvaged, built or refurbished from the recycle center, would be transported to sell at the storefront, and whatever was sold or donated to the storefront would be transported to the recycle center for testing. There was a week in summer when a man came in with a simple-looking HP laptop, which was thin, silver, but an older model, possibly between 2015 and 2022, and he said that he wanted to sell it to us.

I was actually at the storefront location that day for another reason, so I witnessed part of this. Not that it's unrelated, but I had just shown the owner that you can effectively fix corrupt flash drives and hard drives with disc part, after he pretty much tried to argue that it wasn't possible. Once I proved it, he brought me over to the storefront to fix pretty much a drawer full of flash drives and portable hard drives. A literal drawer full of them.

The man handed the front desk lady the laptop, and she looked it over and then grabbed one of our other texts to come up front and ask general questions, as the man filled out one of the seller forms that we hand people when they sell us things. He said it technically was his wife's computer, but she didn't need it since she'd gotten a new one a few days prior. And eventually the man accepted $50 for the computer due to it being locked, and some minor cosmetic damage. We went through the normal process, wiped it, cleaned it, and got it running again.

And we put it on the display floor as one of our discount deals laptops, which were older machines running updated windows and had favorable RAM and SSD upgrades. A few days later, a rather short, skinny woman with blonde hair came in and looked around the store, and I happened to be there again, working on wiping a giant external hard drive. The front desk lady noticed that the woman who came in was moving and looking through all the laptops in the value section, and she stopped when she came to the HP laptop. and she tried to remove it from the security lock device holding it in place. The front desk lady, of course, went over to stop her,

and the blonde woman told her to give her back her laptop, and that it belonged to her. This started an entire argument, and the owner came from his office in the back, and looked out of the door behind the counter that led to the front of the store to see what was going on. The blonde woman was basically screaming that we had sold, stolen goods, and that she knew this was her laptop based on the cosmetic damage.

The front desk lady told her that the item was brought in by a different customer, and that she couldn't divulge the details of the seller. And the blonde woman screamed at her and said that she was lying and then stormed out of the store, knocking over a rack of chargers and power banks on her way out. The owner told us to keep an eye on the front and went to go fix the toppled display. But no more than about five minutes later, the blonde woman came back into the store with a huge purse on her left arm. And from it, she pulled out the godmother of all knives.

The thing looked like the overgrown child of a machete and a pocket knife, and this woman was swinging it around and approaching the front counter. She told the front desk lady and the owner to stay there, and that she was taking the laptop back. By this time, the silent alarm had already been triggered, and the woman was desperately trying to get the security lock off of the laptop, and eventually began cutting at it with her knife. But when she couldn't get it free, she came to the front desk and demanded that someone open it. The owner agreed to go unlock the laptop, and he walked calmly over to go unlock it, asking the woman to remain calm, and by this point, the police were arriving outside and rushed into the store. ultimately, the woman dropped the knife and surrendered to the police, and they took over the

situation, and the laptop was also taken in his evidence. I never knew what happened after that, but the owner said that he was becoming irritated by the recent events of the store and the recycle center. He also turned over the information of the man who sold them the laptop as part of the investigation, along with the security footage of that entire week. This isn't the last thing that happened while I worked there, but that's pretty much where this story ends. Hi, Raven.

A friend introduced me to your channel last year. I listened both at work and as I fall asleep, so thank you. Thank you for listening. I guess just for a little context, I'm indigenous on the West Coast, British Columbia. My parents both grew believing in the spirits and afterlife. I have a few stories of experiences that we've had, and I would have only been about six when my mom's younger brother passed,

and she was sitting up one night after we went to bed, baking for the school week, and she glanced to the doorway to our kitchen, and he was standing there leaning on the frame and said, Smells good, sis, and then he disappeared. Fast forward to me being eight. My and my parents' bedrooms were in the basement at this time, and my dad's father passed away. Now, I never really knew the man, but I woke up one morning before work and heard work boots going up the stairs. I thought, oh good, coffee must be ready.

I got up and opened my bedroom door, and my dad was still sound asleep. When I asked him after, he said that it would have been your grandpa letting you know he's here. When I was about 11, my mom's younger sister passed away, and then when I was in my 20s, my grandma, mom's mom, passed away. After both, I woke up in the middle of the night slash early morning and felt someone sit at the foot of my bed and lean over me, and all I said was, thank you for being here for me. At one point to one of my cousins, let's call him Charles, was living with my brothers and I, and he came home from work and went to his room and laid on his bed playing games on his phone.

He heard someone laughing, thinking it was my brother he called out and got no answers, so he got up and went to look. The house was dark and he was alone. And most recently, my boyfriend, let's call him Tyson, had a few experiences. We had been together just over a year and one night we were laying in bed watching TV, and we both watched the doorknob to the bedroom turn. our first thought being that it's not like my brother to not knock first. The door opened and then stopped.

I got up and said, Thank you for letting me know you're here. Tyson's only reaction was WTF. Tyson went away for work and came home after a few weeks, and we stayed up one night having drinks and watching movies, just spending as much time together as possible. While we fell asleep, probably only for a few, hours, and he heard someone banging on the bedroom door.

This has happened to me in the past, and he jumped up half asleep, thinking he was late for work. He got dressed and popped out the door, saying, almost ready, and someone was standing at the end of the hallway and held up a cup of coffee before walking down the stairs. He paused, realizing where he was, and woke me up asking when my brother, who doesn't live with us anymore, got home. I told him he wasn't. He was kind of freaked out when he told me what happened.

Tyson is still away for work, and my sister recently passed away, and I can only assume that when he finally comes to see me, there will be more activity. This story takes place a few years before the COVID-19 shutdown in New Orleans. My friend who I'm going to call Cameron for the safety of this story, and myself decided to go to this abandoned hotel, next to the main library on Laola Avenue. We walked all the way to what we assumed was the lobby,

and as soon as we got situated, I put my phone flashlight at an angle where we could still see, but it wasn't really that bright. So he and I are just sitting there, and I see this shadow figure in the distance walk across the room. Immediately after that, my friends start saying that he's seeing demons. After the tenth time of saying that he's seen demons, I start to feel uncomfortable in the building

and I tell my friend that I'm ready to go. He tells me that he wants to say for 15 more minutes. I don't know why I said this, but I told him okay. And after 15 minutes, I started grabbing my things and we started heading towards the entrance that we took to get there, and then we left. I never returned to that abandoned hotel ever again. After that.

Hey 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 every team. things. 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, And 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.