As The Raven Dreams Podcast - Scary Stories For Dark Dreams - Vol 56 | ATRD Podcast

Episode Date: April 27, 2026

Today we have 18 More true scary stories with a late night ambience. Scary Stories For Dark Dreams is a collection of older stories, remastered and put together in a long form episode. This Collection includes the following stories; True Scary stories from Nov 2022, Paranormal stories from Oct 2023, and Urbex Stories from March 2024 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. 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! I upload episodes every 3 days, so there are 2 days between new uploads. The podcast consists of new scary story collections, Glitch in the matrix collections, and also what I call the "Dark Dreams" collections (which are older stories, remastered and layered with rain sounds). 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 TIMESTAMPS One Ad After the First Story, No ads after that Story 1: 0:26 Story 2: 12:28 Story 3: 20:27 Story 4: 32:30 Story 5: 40:06 Story 6: 43:17 Story 7: 50:15 Story 8: 1:00:19 Story 9: 1:03:14 Story 10: 1:06:49 Story 11: 1:14:25 Story 12: 1:20:00 Story 13: 1:25:39 Story 14: 1:34:37 Story 15: 1:37:22 Story 16: 1:41:00 Story 17: 1:43:44 Story 18: 1:46:16 ----- 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. None of my audio is AI Generated, I am a real person reading real stories into a real microphone. Note: The podcast nor the host endorses any advertisements played during the podcast, ads are not chosen by ATRD or Raven Adams, they are chosen automatically by the advertisement systems by the platforms that host the podcast. I do not endorse, support, or promote any opinions or statements made in any adverts played during the show. #ScaryStories #UnexplainedMysteries #GlitchInTheMatrix ➤ 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

Hey there, friends. Today's episode is a Dark Dreams episode. For those that are unaware, Dark Dreams episodes are older episodes, remastered into larger collections, with some nice and calming rain sounds in the background to help you just kind of relax. So, sit back, close your eyes if you can, and just take in the scariness that is our existence. And hopefully, you sleep well. As a young kid, I knew that I was pretty difficult to deal with. Not in the sense that I got in trouble, skipped school and was a bully, but more so that I was very curious and tried to get into everything. My parents liked to remind me of how many child locks they had to put on cabinets, doors, even the fridge, because I would climb into everything.

I even climbed over the kid gates. It was hard to get me to sit down. As I got older, the curious and ever-adventurous part of me never died. My friends and I loved to get into places that we shouldn't be. It was like finding a secret base that no one else knew about. We've explored woods, old tunnels and construction sites, and a few old buildings. But this time, we were really wanting to check out this old house that our school bus always passed by. It had caught fire a couple years prior.

and was left condemned and abandoned. We didn't know who lived there prior, but the house was clearly left to fall apart. That just meant that it was a free place to stake out with my friends. After school one day, I finished my homework and chores, as I was told to do, and was given permission to go out with my friends. I called up Roman and Shane and took off on my bike to meet them at our normal designated spot. We typically brought very little with us, being young and inexperienced. We knew it was probably going to be dark in the house, with no power, so we all brought

flashlights. Roman brought an old backpack that may have had a hammer or a small pocket knife in it. He always had some kind of tool to help us get into places. And that was about all that we brought. Like I said, we were young and we were young. more so just wanted to check the place out more than anything. We rode our bikes down the street and around the corner to the house, and after not seeing any cars drive by or in the distance,

we ditched our bikes behind the house in a small gravel area and started walking around it to find the best way in. We didn't even try the front door, wanting to stay out of view, but the back door seemed to be jammed. We did, however, find a window, that we could open, and the screen was missing, so that was our way in. Roman went in first, then me, lastly, Shane. Once we were in, we realized just how much damage a house fire can do.

Most of the walls were blackened, there were spots where the walls were peeling, where it was burnt, revealing light parts of the wall. I don't know if it was paint or wallpaper. There were still charged. remains of a couch, a TV stand, and a table in the living room alone. Everything we touched left a grimy, dark residue on our hands, like soot. Walking through the rooms and seeing so much stuff that was left behind was almost haunting. There was a kid's room with charred stuffed animals, now hardened from the burnt fur and warped by the water from the firemen, I'm sure.

so many things that looked melted in place, like a cup sitting on a counter, now drooping over a plate. It was eerie knowing someone lived here and had to leave all of this. But at the same time, it was an incredible sight to see, and one hell of an eye-opener for me when it came to fire safety, if I'm being honest.

And the smell was pretty strong, too. We had a burn barrel at my house. I was familiar with the smell of burning wood, both treated and not treated, as well as odd things that I would throw in there like paper or old toys. And while the smell of old burnt wood was present, there was another pretty pungent smell that I couldn't identify. I remember discussing it with my friends, but none of us knew what it was. But we continued on. After exploring the house, it was a single floor, my friend discovered the door that led to the basement.

Roman and I definitely wanted to check it out. The floor seemed sturdy, and I didn't have any worries about it collapsing. Shane, however, was not interested in the basement. Going down there with just the flashlight was not something he was willing to do. But we compromised. He stayed at the top of the stairs, pointing his flashlight at the steps for us, so that we didn't trip. We would check out the basement, and then come back up and leave. No big deal.

We walked down the stairs, and it probably sounded louder than it actually was, since the house was so still. Once down there, the same but subtle smell from upstairs was now stronger in the basement. However, it wasn't bad enough to make us leave. So we started scanning the area with our flashlight. Most of the basement was open, but there was a small hallway at the bottom of the stairs, and a door on the right that we opened to get to the rest of the basement. I saw the hookup for a washer and dryer, but there was only one machine there. I saw a pile of clothing or something similarly soft close to the machine.

But I remember that all of it looked fine. From what we could see, there wasn't much in the way of fire damage down there. So if those were their clothes, why would they leave them? I figured they probably didn't get to leave with much, so I would take everything that I could. Putting the clothing behind me, I continued looking at the room. On the other side of the room was where things got more interesting. There were two long tables cluttered with stuff. There were a few plates and bowls with small remnants on them.

Glass containers, everywhere that I now know were beakers, glass tubes, giant pots, rubber tubes, funnels, you get the idea. At first, I just thought maybe the people that used to live here were some kind of scientist or chemist. It looked cool at first. I approached the table and began looking at the items individually. The glasses had a dry brown crust at the bottom. There were bottles and chemicals all over the place, and the smell was absolutely coming from this stuff.

But then I noticed the burner that the giant pot was sitting on. I reached across the table to touch it, and it was warm. It had been recently used. I was ready to walk to the other side of the table, to get closer to it when Roman called out to me. By the sound of his voice, I stopped immediately and pointed my flashlight up at him. Looking at him, he looked terrified and was shining his flashlight past me. I turned back around following his flashlight to see a man trying to disappear in the corner.

To this day, that man was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen in my young. young life. The man was mostly skin and bones. Maybe it was just the flashlight, but he looked pale. I could hardly tell that he was wearing a white tank top as it just looked like his skin. But other than the torn-up tank, the only other thing he had on was just a pair of white briefs. From what I could tell, he either had super thin and short hair, or it was just patchy and balding. His eyes were horrifying.

There were dark circles all around, and they were deeply sunken in. His eyes themselves were very large and wide, like we had clearly startled him. But beside his actual appearance, what scared us the most was the large gun that he was holding across his chest. Without looking back, I told Roman to run, and as soon as I heard him running, I turned to run myself. No sooner did I turn around, and I heard a loud bang ring out. I nearly peed myself stumbling up the stairs in terror. Shane was already gone by the time I got up. I ran behind Roman to the window, but then I could hear the thumping up the stairs.

This guy was following us. I could hear Shane shouting on us from the window. Roman was just jumping through it, and I was right behind him. I practically fell out of the window, and we ran to our bikes, ducking to remain under the windows. Once we reached our bikes, we took off as fast as our legs would go, and immediately headed for Roman's house, as it was the closest. Once there, we collapsed on the ground, trying to catch our breaths and not have a heart attack. Once we calmed down, Roman and I explained to Shane what all we saw. saw down there.

Shane said that he took off when he heard the bang. At the time, we didn't know what the home-cooked lab was down there. But what we did know was that we were trespassing and we weren't supposed to be there. And we knew that we would be in trouble for being there. So we did what kids do best. We told no one. Thankfully, no one never brought up hearing a gunshot to us, so we didn't have

have to fake that. My clothes did smell a little funny afterwards, but I buried them deep in my clothes baskets, hoping that it would dissipate. After that, we stopped going into places like that. If it was closed in, like buildings, we avoided it. We still explored open areas that had clear getaway points, and that we could clearly see there was no one around.

We were way too young and too small to fight off. adults. I did learn years later that the lab was discovered by someone else, but they didn't find anyone down there. As an adult, it's a crazy thing to think about. I always saw our neighborhood as a wonderful and safe place, but I also realized how much my parents protected us, especially from things like that. Who knows what that man would have done? He definitely chased us that day, but did he just shoot at us to warn us? Would he have actually shot us? And if so, what would he have done if he did hit us and possibly killed us?

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to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming, Ontario. Spotify, it's Jay Shetty. Are you one of those media strategy people? Scrolling through spreadsheets, searching for an audience that pays twice as much attention to your ads than they do on social? Let me introduce you to fans.

And they're here with me on Spotify. Trust me, I know fans. They don't skip. They stay for hours. They don't move on. they manifest. They're not a demographic group. They're fans. Spotify advertising. You're among fans. I can't fall asleep right now, so I figured I would share my one and only potentially

paranormal encounter. It happened when I was about 15, about six or seven years ago, when I finally grew old enough to become a counselor at a summer camp that I had attended annually for most of my childhood. The camp is Camp Anokijig in Plymouth, Wisconsin if you want to check it out. You would imagine that a summer camp as large and old as a Nocajig would have its fair share of scary stories and camp legends. But, for my experience, it really wasn't the case. Ghost stories around the campfire were, of course, popular,

but there weren't really any specifically about the camp itself. That is, except for one commonly accepted notion among the staff. Thunderbird Cabin 2 is haunted. See, the camp is separated into a boys and girls' side, and these sides are further divided into sections, with names like Lakeview, Timber Trail, or, of course, Thunderbird. Councillors would rotate through the sections throughout the summer. During the particular week of this story,

I was stationed in Thunderbird and was assigned with another counselor, who will call Keegan, to watch over the infamous Cabin 2. Stories about Cabin 2 varied. Entities outside of the window, goat men, scratching sounds at odd hours of the night, whatever. The diverse and often hyperboized nature of these stories actually led me to doubt the legitimacy of all of them. It's a much more likely explanation. that there was a desire for ghost stories at camp, and that someone came up with Thunderbird 2 is haunted,

which just happened to stick, no. I still believe this, in fact. I do not believe in ghosts or the paranormal, but I know what I experienced, and any rational explanation I can come with does not seem fully convincing. Anyways, it goes as follows. This week, I was assigned to what,

watch the youngest group of boys, about six to eight. We liked to have everyone in bed early since the young kids can be restless, and they needed time to wind down. This particular night, things went smoothly for Keegan and I. We had gotten all of the kids seemingly asleep rather quickly. Being a little older, we would stay up and chat or read, and this night was no different. We both sat in Keegan's bunk, sharing a pair of earbuds and watching YouTube videos. It is important now to describe the layout of a cabin in Thunderbird. They were simplistic, rectangular, raised wooden cabins.

The inner parameter was lined with bunk beds and housed about 20 to 30 campers and two counselors. Small, high-set rectangular windows along all sides provided moderate moonlight at night. Anyways, we're watching a video and all of the kids are asleep. It's dead quiet inside. You can barely hear the crackling of the dwindling campfire outside, and the muffled normal sounds of a Midwest forest at night. That is, until something disturbs the peace.

The unmistakable sound of someone shaking in a sleeping bag breaks the silence. It's clear from the noise and vibrations that one of the campers is basically flailing in their bunk. Their sleeping bag is rustling. The metal bunk is squeaking, the sound of their body bouncing on the mattress making a dull thumping. Kegan and I quickly take out the earbuds, pause for a moment to listen to the sound, and turn to each other with a concerned what the hell look on our faces. Initially, I'm actually worried a camper is having a seizure. And then, on the other side of the cabin, we hear the same noise, the same vibration.

Only a few seconds after the first camper started to shake, a second one joins in. Then another, and another and another. Within seven or eight seconds, literally every kid in this cabin is flailing in their bags. The sound of rustling fabric and straining bedsprings is all you can hear. In the pale moonlight, you could also see the outlines of their bodies bouncing around a little. The entire cabin is vibrating at the same. this point, and Kegan and I are frozen, wide-eyed, terrified. We each have the same frightened look, and it's clear that neither of us have any idea what is going on or what to do.

We sit paralyzed for some period of time while the collective possession around us continues. After 15 or 20 seconds of this, the cacophony stops. Like a switch is flipped, all of the campers stop moving and go perfectly still, back to sleeping, completely undisturbed. Still immobilized with fear, Keegan and I still sit completely still as well, not talking or moving, scared, I'm assuming, that this was simply the beginning of something worse. We were unsure whether to run or check the campers. Minutes go by, both of us looking around, eyes darting to the door. the surrounding bunks, both of us braced for impending doom.

I'm not sure how, but at the same time, both of us silently concluded that we should bolt. As fast as we could, we leap from the bunk and sprint out of the doors, into the clearing that accompanies the cabins. The only person still outside is our senior counselor scrolling through his phone by the fire. He's surprised to see the two counselors of a cabin dash out the way that we did. panicked we tried to explain what the hell happened. He brushes it off, but agrees to check the cabin. As you can guess, he doesn't hear or see anything, but peacefully sleeping campers. We reluctantly return to the cabin and get into our beds, still on high alert.

I lay awake for some time, braced and waiting for something. But, alas, I drift off at some point. wouldn't you believe it in the morning none of the kids claimed to know anything about the night prior they all claimed to have fallen asleep like any other night and the phenomenon does not continue any following night as someone who is wholly skeptical and as previously stated does not believe in anything not well-founded or observed scientifically i struggle to think what might have caused this i want to think it was a prank, but I don't think that a bunch of young children could coordinate something like this so well, or even so retain their innocence in the matter. If anyone has any similar stories, or even heard if anything that could cause this, I'm all ears. It'll probably be the most confused and scared that I'll ever be in my life.

The situation was just so bizarre and sudden. I do hope that I properly conveyed just. how creepy it was. I have experienced numerous examples of the paranormal and or high strangeness throughout the years, but the events during the early hours of December 12, 2021, represented a new watershed for me. I had gone to bed around midnight, and, as far as I'm aware, slept soundly for around three hours. Then, I awoke, feeling slightly groggy for the first few seconds, then quickly becoming fully conscious of my surroundings. I was laid on my right-hand side, which meant that I was looking towards the middle of the bedroom.

I live in a late Victorian house in the UK, built in 1890. Though long since boarded up, there is still the original fireplace in my bedroom, and the original man. The mantelpiece is also still there above the boarded-up fireplace. The mantelpiece therefore still serves as a four-and-a-half-foot-long, by six-inch-wide shelf on which to sit several ornaments. The end of the mantelpiece is about three feet away from the right-hand edge of my bed, so I laid there that night, in real terms, between four to five feet away from me. I was astonished by what I saw.

there was what appeared to be a 10 to 12 year old girl stood there facing the mantelpiece and she was close to the end of the mantelpiece that was nearest me she was apparently fascinated by one of the ornaments in front of her staring intently with her hands held up as high as her face she was wiggling her fingers tentively as if tempted to touch the ornament but not sure whether or not she should.

But her weird, exceptionally long, bony fingers were just one minor feature compared to the other details that I registered, as I watched her in silence for about 20 seconds. She was around four feet tall. She literally glowed like moonlight. She was sort of semi-transparent. I could discern some very faint pale pink and blue lines beneath her skin, which I guessed were veins.

She wore a short, plain sleeveless dress, which appeared to be the same translucent moonlight gray color as her exposed limbs. She was skeletal thin. Her hair was darker than her body, mid-length, but very thin and stringy. I could clearly see her scalp showing and glowing through. She made no sound and there was no smell. I felt no threat whilst watching her. It was obvious that she was far more interested in the ornament than she was interested in me.

But then the mood changed. I did not become scared. It was more like a growing resentment that this ghost was not welcome. She should not be there. She was invading my private place, seeming to me more like a trespasser than a scary apparition. So I finally reacted. I shouted at her, an almost comical roar, and lunged toward her.

My outstretched hand not quite reaching her, maybe still around a foot shy. Her head swiveled around with an owl-like motion, and she looked at me full on. That was when she stopped looking like a 10-to-12-year-old girl, and started looking more like an it. There were features on her face that were now visible to me that had not been apparent at all during the 20 seconds or so that I had watched her inside profile. Her eyes were jet black, and very large in relation to the size of her face.

She only had half a nose, the left-hand side. The right-hand side of her nose was missing. It appeared to have rotted away so that you could see the bare bone and cartilage. and the rot extended down through the top lip so that you could also see the top of two of her teeth through the gaping hole. Her closed mouth below the hole was very thin-lipped, no more than a two-inch-long slit. She stared at me for two, maybe three seconds, with no facial expression as such, but something about her eyes still somehow indicating surprise.

Then she disappeared in the blink of an eye. No slow fade, no floating away through the wall, just there one second and then gone the next. So there I lay for another few minutes. As I previously alluded to, I've seen plenty of weird stuff over the years, so I wasn't feeling scared or panicky. I was simply wondering who or what the hell it was that I had just observed. Where had she come from? Why had she appeared now? Why was she, or it, apparently, transfixed by an ornament?

Was it actually the first time that she had visited my bedroom? Or did she visit frequently? And this was just the first time I had awoken in time to observe her. I kept rerunning the event over and over in my mind. And then several more thoughts occurred to me. Why was she so visible one second and then gone the next? Was it because she was so fascinated, so absorbed with the ornament that she was distracted to the extent of lowering her guard? Had she effectively forgotten to render herself invisible because she thought it was sound asleep and oblivious to her presence?

And what could be so bloody fascinating about an ornament? So that's when I got out of bed. I noted the time display in my alarm clock. It was 3.45 a.m. Put on the light and stood in front of the mantelpiece right where I estimated she had been standing. Which ornament had been the center of her attention. I firmly believe that it was my small, hand-carved wooden elephant. Technically a family heirloom, it was originally owned.

by my grandparents. Quaint, yes, even cute, but nothing really special. Then, I registered what else I was seeing. I started this account by stating that the events of the early morning of the 12th of December 2021 represented a watershed for me despite my numerous other paranormal experiences throughout my life. Why? Because for all the accounts that I could relate to you, Until then, I had never been presented with any tangible proof.

No physical evidence to back up those accounts. They could all be easily dismissed later as dreams or hallucinations, or attention-seeking lies or schizophrenia, and or all of the other lazy explanations usually put forward by people who are not there to experience any particular event for themselves, and often seemed to take comfort, sometimes even pleasure, in dismissing an honest account rather than keeping an open mind,

and allowing it to potentially challenge their own view of reality. But this time, it was different. There in the dust on the mantelpiece, next to the wooden elephant, was a doll-sized part handprint. It measured around half the width of my hand, although the fingers seemed freakishly long and spindly in relation to the width of the print. Then, I remembered another small detail that I had not fully registered, whilst were playing the event through my mind earlier. When I had shouted at her and her head spun around, one of her upraised hands was simultaneously dropped down towards the mantelpiece.

The part handprint left in the dust was the result. The girl had been somehow physically present, not just an apparition. So I later took photos of the part handprint, and yes, I still have those photos in my possession. And, just for good measure, I have another photo of a subsequent handprint she left in the early hours of December 25, 2022. Am I under any naive impression that some photos would be sufficient to convince all? and sundry that my account is genuine after all? Absolutely not. But the very fact that I have those photos created an important distinction,

for me, at least. Hence, my reference to a watershed. So, have I now given a complete account of events in the early hours of the 12th of December 2021? Well, no. Actually, far from it. more was still to follow that morning, and to some extent, is still occurring up to this day. It appears that, quote, Little Miss Skeletor, as I've come to call my visitor these days, is somewhat attached to me, or at least likes to pay a visit now and then.

If you are interested to hear more, then, sure, I'm willing to share. I'm also open to any constructive ideas about who or what. what my visitor may actually be. At this juncture, my favorite theory is that she can only visit at certain times, usually between 3 a.m. to 4 a.m., and arrives and leaves, via some type of portal that exist in my house, a portal that is closed or blocked most of the time. My reason for formulating my portal theory are actually based on other paranormal, slash high strangeness events that I experienced long before 2021.

In any event, I hope that you found my account interesting, and for some who have strange experiences of their own, perhaps even helpful. After all, my rationale is that if there is no sense of real evil or danger during a paranormal event, then there is no need to become scared to the point of threatening your mental, and or physical health. For instance, if Little Miss Skeletor actually wanted to harm me, it would not be that difficult whilst I slept. If she can leave a partial handprint,

then in theory she could press down a pillow over my sleeping head, or get up to heaven knows what other mischief to my detriment. But she doesn't harm me, so I do not get all scared and or worked up about her visits. I'm more inclined to think that she is actually just curious and or even just bored most of the time it's just a shame that she doesn't share more secrets about wherever it is that she's from

now wouldn't that be interesting in the past I was quite the skeptic when it came to the paranormal I wasn't one of those jerk skeptics who would tell people to grow up or ridicule them. I enjoyed listening to ghost stories. Some I thought were more believable than others. For instance, I found the ones where people saw, heard, and felt things more believable than stories in which people were badly hurt, killed, or property damage was done. Still, as I enjoy the stories, I always took them with a grain of salt. Though, as I've had more strange experiences, I took ghost stories more serious. seriously than before. Not the super crazy ones.

This will be a post on the list of experiences that I've had, which led to me being a believer. The very first strange thing that I have ever experienced was when I was about six years old. I was at my babysitter's house, and one day I was walking down a hall, and the door to the bathroom was wide open. I looked inside, and everything was fine.

I went back to walking and then I heard a noise. When I went back to the restroom, I saw that a drawer had open, so I ran back to the living room. When I was 11 years old, I had this constant feeling that there was something in the apartment that my family and I lived in. During the morning and afternoon, I would be distracted with schoolwork, family, friends, TV, etc. though once night came, the distractions and noise dwindled. You're able to focus and notice things more. Whenever my family was home or I was alone, I always felt like there was this person in a white robe roaming the halls at night.

One day I was alone and the feeling got so bad that I stayed outside on a cold November night for two hours until my family came back home. I don't know if it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but from the porch, I was able to see into the window. And I saw the curtains moving as if someone walked past them. What is even more strange is that I got that feeling once more, but instead of feeling as if it was someone in a robe, it felt like there was a man lurking around. It happened earlier this year. My grandpa had passed away, and my family was.

went to Mexico for the funeral. I had to stay home due to being in college, and I was all alone, and in those two weeks while they were away, I was paranoid. I would stay awake all night in the living room with all the lights on in the room. I constantly had this feeling that there was a man wandering from room to room, and I would think that I heard doors creak open or closed. In the morning, when the noise of people filled the air, I would check the rooms and find nothing amiss.

Now, this story is the reason that I went from skeptic to believer. The rest I had thought was due to me being paranoid either because I was a kid or due to losing someone close. This one, though, I had no explanation for. In 2020, I took a year off due to an error with my transfer to a school. I decided to work and got a chance. chill job as a janitor. I enjoyed my time there.

I had to clean four clinics with a three-person crew, and each clinic was 30 to 40 minutes apart. The only problem was that the people I worked with at the time were not reliable. Two times I had to clean all four clinics on my own because multiple people did not show up for work. My first strange experience in this job happened at Clinics C. It was placed near a creepy alley and in a small town where the activity dies at night.

While cleaning, I constantly heard a dripping noise. I went to the sink that I thought was making the noise and looked under it for a leak, and nothing. I stayed a while to try and pinpoint where the sound was coming from, and again, nothing. I shrugged and went back to cleaning, and then when I left the room where the noise was coming from, it started again.

My final experience happened on a Thursday, a day before my last day there. It was at the biggest clinic, D. It had both clinical and dental services. There were a lot of stories in how the nurses would hear things. They said they could hear a lady scream, and one day, I closed a door to a restroom and realized it made a loud shriek whenever you closed it. so I assumed that was the noise they had kept hearing. Another day they said that they would hear loud clatter.

One day there was a silver tray for the doctor to put his tools on, and one of the legs holding up the tray was flimsy, and it would constantly fall. So I assumed that was the noise they heard. As me and my co-workers were finishing up, one of them and I were waiting for the final co-worker to finish mopping. We were in the large lobby, and it connected to the dental lobby as well. There's a glass door in the lobby that lets you see directly down a vertical hall

to a horizontal hall that leads to patient rooms, a lab, and to the dental area. The floor was wet and most of the lights were off. My co-worker asked me something, and I looked at her and responded. Then, I looked back at the hall, and I saw a pair of legs walking around past a wall towards the lab or door to enter the dental area. I called for the mopping co-worker. We all know not to walk on the wet floor,

but she may have forgotten and walked on to it. Though she answered from behind me. She was finishing up mopping the entrance to the lobby. I then went out to the left of the lobby, down a dry hall, which connected to the horizontal hall that I saw the legs walking in. I looked down the hall, and saw no footprints on the floor.

The legs had sneakers like the nurses wear, and black scrubs like they wear as well. I told my coworkers, and they said that they heard nothing and saw nobody else in the large building. I told my mom when I got home about what happened, and she gave me her input. She said that since a lot of people go to the clinic, one of them may be carrying a spirit, good or bad.

That spirit may have gotten attached to the place and stayed behind. She could see that I was shook by this experience and tried to cheer me up. It worked, and I acted like I wasn't affected by it. But I was. And to this day, I know what I saw. It was more than likely the one making the noises the nurses heard, and it was real. I know it was.

This happened a few years ago when I was 17. I was a senior in high school at this time. I was not on drugs, medication, or alcohol leading up to or during this experience. I went to bed late that night. Only my dreams started, and I was on the ceiling looking at my sleeping body below. I saw a dark figure on the side of my bed. It was blacker than the pitch-black room, and seemed to be very hairy or furry.

I don't know how to quite describe the appearance. Most of it was just a dark blob, but I know that it was hairy because it kept reaching over and touching my face. I felt it tickling my face, and my sleeping body would instinctively reach out and touch the spot that it had touched, and I could feel it. I could feel the tickling sensation, and I could feel my own hand brushing my face off.

I did that for an unknown amount of time. Just reached out, messed with me, retreated and repeated it for presumably hours. But eventually, it looked up at me. I could see its eyes

and its mouth somehow. I don't recall there ever being a light that showed its face, but I could see that it was looking at me on the ceiling and it was smiling. It then focused back on my unconscious body, and sprung on to the bed,

its arms swinging wildly as it attacked me. I was dragged down from the ceiling back to my unconscious body and woke up. I was shaking all over, how I think a seizure would feel, as if I was vibrating. Of course, whenever I woke up, the entity was gone. It is important to note that I have a gray cat. He often sleeps with me,

right on my chest or against my neck. That night he was on the opposite side of the bed on the far corner. When the thing jumped on to the bed, I watched from position on the ceiling as the cat ran away. When I awoke, the cat was gone, which is out of the norm. It's not unheard of, but typically the cat wakes up when I would get up in the morning. I would post this elsewhere, but it's important to state,

that later in my waking life, I was out in a state park, way too late, around 4 a.m. I saw that entity across a clearing in another tree line. Again, I could see its face, and I knew that it was beaming at me with a smile.

I don't know how, but I just knew that it was smiling. I've not seen the entity since then, and these incidents were only a few weeks apart. I was in the military for a field training exercise, deprived of sleep, and I had an encounter with a dark forest and the human subconscious. We'd been out for four days at this point with almost no sleep. We were a four-man squad operating completely independently,

securing battalion-level safe data traffic. We got an order to relocate about 100 kilometers south to the coast. The day turned out to be quite long, and long story short, we were at combat readiness and the new location at around 3 a.m. As the squad leader, I decided to take first watch and let the guys get some well-deserved rest. So, I grabbed my gear and started walking towards our guard position down the road from our camp. A guard position in this context means a concealed position in a ditch, with a good view down the road. I got to the spot It was just over 200 meters from our equipment

There was a bit of snow on the ground The sky was clear and it was absolutely dead silent in the woods I just laid on my back leaning on the bank of the ditch This spot was lower than our camp Down the road into a kind of small valley And it was a thick spruce tree forest So all sounds that there would have been in our camp on the higher ground and almost on the shore,

you could hear the sea from our camp, just died down. I was dead tired. I laid there on my back just staring at the few stars peeking through the branches of the spruce trees until I realized it wasn't as silent as I had initially thought, and that I could actually hear sound from the woods behind my back. Just the most subtle little cracks, russles, and other natural sounds.

but as I concentrated on them it was almost loud. Those little rustles became an almost overwhelming sound. And suddenly, I felt this fear of something. I immediately opened my eyes and jumped up looking behind me into the dark forest. I didn't see anything, but I had this unexplainable sense of being extremely vulnerable. Like something was praying on me? I just gripped my rifle harder and even flicked off the safety, and kept looking into every direction because I was completely circled by the thick dark forest. I did have four mags of blanks on me, so I thought, if nothing else, full auto-blank fire is a good way to scare away predators.

Although in these parts, it was quite unlikely to run into anything that would pose a threat to a human. The weird part was that I couldn't control my reaction at all. I was able to think clearly and tell myself that this is idiotic. There's absolutely no threat out there and no reason to be afraid. But it was like different parts of my brain weren't able to communicate with each other, because while I did realize that there is no threat out there and that this reaction is very unnecessary, at the same time, that feeling of dread became deeper,

and deeper. Do you know the feeling like having an invisible force pulling you down? Almost like you weighed a thousand pounds? I was looking out to the forest and the darkness was just swallowing me up, almost like it was getting closer to me from all directions. Almost like the darkness itself was a sort of being, and the sounds from the forest became totally exaggerated. At this point, I'm in the middle of the road on one,

knee, and the light snow cover on the road seems like the only thing I can see anymore. It was like this tiny island in the middle of a void of darkness, a darkness that was just trying to overpower and get to me. The guys were sleeping just over 200 meters away from me, but it felt like it could have just as well been light years away. Like everything was light years away. Like, I was completely separated from everything. everything that I knew on a totally different plane of existence.

Like being lost at sea, I was lost in the dark, and drowning in it. What made this such a weird experience is that it truly was like one half of my brain went completely rogue. The other half was talking sense and being calm, and the other refused to listen and was ringing every alarm bell. It was like I was calm and panicked at the same time. At some point, the reasonable part of my brain took control and stuff just calmed down, and I just stood there thinking, What in the Blair Witch Project hell was that? I'm not sure how long the experience lasted.

It felt like a short moment, but it definitely lasted longer than it felt. At some point, not too long after, one of the guys came down the road to release me from watch duty. I smoked a cigarette and chatted for a bit, and then I walked back to camp. I crawled in my sleeping bag still just thinking about it. I never told anyone about that, actually. I think I just allowed myself to sleep into the next morning. I never experienced anything like it before or after.

Sleep deprivation is a hell of a drug, kids, and I think it's always. a bad trip. I definitely learned from that and made sure that all of us got more sleep from that day on. As a bit of an addendum, just a year ago, last winter, I was on a field training exercise as a reservist this time, and we were very close to the same place,

just hundreds of meters away. And, one night, I purposely went out into the same woods. Again, a crispy, snowy winter night. I walked into the woods and just stood there. I'm not sure what I was expecting. I'm certain that what I experienced was just sleep deprivation doing really weird stuff to me, but something pulled me to go into those woods again, just to make sure.

Nothing happened that time, and for some reason, I almost felt disappointed. Hey Raven, I wanted to share a story that happened to me and my friends back in 2012. My friends and I love exploring. The city we lived in used to be more of a factory town. The houses were old and many of them used to be owned by the people that owned the old factory in the town as well. Many people that worked at the factory basically rented the homes from them. The idea of your landlord also being your boss is really weird to be. to me, but that's beside the point.

Nowadays, the houses are owned by individuals, such as my childhood home that my parents owned. They never considered moving, even when they expressed their frustration with certain repairs. But I also understand that they owned that place since they married, and it meant a lot to them. But as a kid, sometimes it was the uncoolest place to hang out. and since there were a lot of empty and abandoned buildings around us, we always found a place to venture into. The story is about one of those places. Right on the outskirts of the city,

there was a pretty large building where a hardware store used to be. I remember going there with my dad as a kid, and it was pretty run down then. I believe when the owners passed, their kids just sold it, and that was the end of it. since then it had been sitting empty and abandoned. My friends and I would drive by it and see an unmarked police car in the parking lot,

which only made it more interesting to us. If it was truly empty, then why were police presence necessary? Then, finally, no one was there for two weeks straight. We took the opportunity to finally check it out. We parked at the gas station across the street and walked over to the building, We went around back and my friend was able to pry the door open pretty easily.

Once inside, it was pretty obvious the place wasn't that empty. Most of the stock was gone, of course, but the shelves and racks were still standing like they just cleared out. There were signs about the last offers they had sitting at the registers, covered in dust. From somewhere above, there was some kind of airflow as you could hear the subtle creaks from the signs swaying, which was pretty eerie when that was pretty much the only sound in there. I knew what happened to the place, as my dad told me about it, but it was kind of odd to see the place left as it was. Why did the kids sell or get rid of the inventory, but leave literally everything else?

I like to just see these places as they are and leave them that way, but I know a lot of people that would gut something like this and scrap and sell it all. Maybe that was why the police were there, to prevent that. Anyways, we made our way to the back of the store where the employee area was. To my surprise, they had one of the literal punch-in time cards. There was even a stack of employee cards in the organizer nearby. We went through all the cards, just reading the names in their times. They were clearly many years old, but there was still something about it that was kind of stepping back.

in time. Walking in at the age of eight, immediately smelling wood shavings and paint, now seeing the employee side of things, I quite enjoyed it. After we got our fill of the employee room, we walked out and towards the other side of the building. This was where all the small hardware stuff was like screws and bolts. There was actually a container that was filled with bolts, washers, nuts, just a bunch of random parts. Again, we just looked through all the little containers and display items on the wall, messing around and talking to each other. We'd been doing this for some time, so we were all pretty calm throughout this,

probably a little too relaxed, because my friend Faith decided to climb up one of the racks to see if she could get to the top. Oliver told her not to, I may have encouraged her, because if she could do it, I wanted to climb up there too. However, to our surprise, the shelves were not bolted down in any way, and it was almost like we watched it in slow motion as it started falling backwards towards Olly and I. I didn't move quick enough and it fell back on me, as well as faith, while Olly managed to get out from the other side.

I dropped to the ground, at least hoping to not be too injured, but also hoping to make a soft landing for Faith. Her head did hit me, but that rack was heavy as hell, considering it held all the hardware that it did. It knocked the wind out of me, but thankfully, Faith responded too, so I knew that she was okay. The crash, however, was painfully loud, and it had to have been heard from the outside,

so we knew that we needed to get out quickly. Ali called out to make sure that we were both conscious and okay and asked if we could move. Faith was able to get to her hands and knees, but I was pretty much pinned where I was. The racks had backings, so we couldn't exactly just stand between them and walk out. Ollie tried to pull it, but I could tell that he was struggling with it.

Faith tried pushing it with her back, and I with my arms, but we couldn't move it. We just weren't doing anything to it, while Ollie was at least able to move his corner some. Now was where we started to panic some. We didn't know how we were going to get out of this. Then, we all simultaneously stopped talking when we saw a dark shadow approaching from the opposite end of the standing rack. We were found out, and we were about to be in big trouble. He shined a flashlight at us.

all of us too afraid to talk when the stranger finally spoke. Looks like you could use some help. Ollie immediately said that we didn't want any trouble and said that we would leave when the guy started laughing. He stepped toward us more and shined a light on himself. Do I look like a cop to you? He said in a playful tone. He had long gray hair that was tied back,

as well as a beard that looked to be equally as long. wearing some old jeans and a denim jacket. He walked towards Ollie and started directing him to push with him. And with his help, they lifted it enough for both of us to crawl out from under the rack and between them. Once we were out, the man put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it as the three of us stood by and shyly thanked him for his help. He gave us a hard time, all in fun, about how we were the loudest explorers that he'd ever come across. He mentioned how he spotted us shortly after we came in, so that was pretty terrifying to me. This guy had been following us since we got in, and none of us saw him.

I liked to think that I was pretty aware of my surroundings, but that all went down the drain. At any point, this man could have grabbed one of us, and we may have never known. He explained that he had actually been living in the storage basement for the past few months. I didn't even know there was a basement in that building. He explained that he knew it existed because he used to work there, and he knew the old owner of the place. We sat on the now-fallen rack, listening to some of the things that he remembered about this place.

He talked about how it started going downhill when the kids began managing it. They wouldn't fix some of the safety issues, and there were more than one accident that happened that could have been avoided, if they fixed the highly dangerous issues. He even explained how someone lost part of their hand due to a safety switch in a saw not functioning. To be honest, some of the things he told us were pretty crazy

and scarier than what happens to us. After talking for some time, we decided that we should probably leave. We thanked him for his help, though, not knowing what we would have done if he didn't help us, gave him some of the cash and smokes we had on us and left through the back door. The last thing he said to us was, I didn't see you, you didn't see me, and nodded, shutting the door.

We made our way back to our car with no one noticing and went back to Ollie's to chill for a bit. The time there started out great. It was nice, reminiscing, but also seeing it abandoned and quiet was eerie. And then when the rack fell, I was pretty freaked out, knowing how loud it was that we were going to be found out and arrested, and none of us had ever been arrested. And when we saw this random figure approaching us while we were helpless, there were millions of scenarios running through my mind. But, thankfully, he was just a guy down on his luck, and decided to lend a hand instead of robbing us, or worse. We all still like to Irbex, but I think I'm a little more paranoid when it comes to checking my surroundings.

Because, who knows, if we'll get that lucky, again. This happened around 1988. I was still living in my hometown in Virginia and had just graduated college in 1986. I had a small group of friends that frequented the local dance club on the weekends, and we had decided to hang out at the apartment. of a girl in our friend group that lived in the same apartment community as me. The girls all decided to participate in a Ouija board session and lit candles to set the mood. My boyfriend at the time also attended this impromptu late-night girl party,

along with his longtime friend who was of German descent. But they ridiculed us and decided to sit on the couch and not participate. We took turns asking questions, and determined that any question was to be private that no one else would know the answer to. I thought about my question, and decided to ask of a particular gift that my grandmother had given me. In my mind, the answer was a white nightgown. Someone else had asked a question, and the board spelled out something that seemed to be in another language. My boyfriend's friend knew exactly what it was saying,

because he said it was answering in German. I don't remember exactly what the answer was, but it was true for someone and freaked us all out. When my turn came around, I asked my question, and immediately the board spelled out, J-O-J-O. All the girls looked at me and asked what that meant, and at first I had no idea.

But then, it suddenly occurred to me what it meant. My own mother had been given a toy as a child from her parents, my grandparents, that was like a jack in the box. But it was very old, like from the 1940s. And it had a string that if you unwounded from a button on the front of the box, a clown popped out of the box. The label on said box, said Jojo. At that moment, I decided I was. done with this thing and decided to just go home. We ended the session and everyone left.

My boyfriend was with me and walked me home to my apartment. To this day, I believe that some nefarious spirit was there with us, and I vowed to never touch that thing again. My mother passed away just a few years ago, but I still have the Jojo toy packed away in my closet, as a memento from my mother. This all happened about a decade ago, at a TA travel center in Las Cruces, New Mexico. I worked the night shift as a prep cook there.

While there, I had a few strange experiences that I will detail now. The first was pretty standard. I was chopping onions, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure walk past me, and stop in the corner. When I turned to look, no one was there. and I felt the base of my spine go ice cold. Now, to clarify, my family has a history with spirits. I had a great grandmother who was a medium. I used to see shadow figures all the time in my childhood home

until I was 15 or so. And then I started seeing them again when I was in a deep depression with suicidal tendencies. I'm much better now. That was in my early 20s. That chilled on my spine always accompanied these experiences, and I use it as an indicator for a spirit being nearby. Anyways, after that first experience, I started to ask around, and this was a common occurrence here. Three or four people had the exact same thing happen. Busy with a task, a dark figure at the edge of their vision walks by, and when they turn to look, it's gone.

It would have happened again occasionally, but I would just ignore it. The second wasn't a single incident, but was something that happened regularly, usually after seeing it in the corner of my eye again. Part of my job as prep cook was making large batches of soups and chilies for the next day. I would put these five-gallon pots on the burners with the meat to start browning, turned to chop the veggies, and when I would turn back, all of my burners would be off.

Fairly innocuous, but it happened too often for it to be my error. And again, it was accompanied by a chill down my spine. The final incident actually happens to someone else, but I was present for it. To explain, here's a quick rundown

of how our walk-in was laid out. The door was in my press. kitchen. Inside the walk-in was a second door that led to our freezer. The freezer had its own light switch that was located in the regular walk-in fridge. So, the line cook goes into the walk-in, I think nothing of it, until he comes out hot a few minutes later, wanting to kick my ass. After I calm him down, he tells me that he was in the freezer section, when all of a sudden the lights turn out, and he starts hearing a man laughing coming from the main walk-in. I let him know that not only was it not me, but I'd been in the kitchen the whole time,

and no one else had gone in. He goes wide as a sheet and then didn't want to talk about it anymore. Anyway, those were my experiences at the truck stop. Thankfully, I don't have much contact with the other side now that I'm in a better headspace, But I have a couple of others from my time in New Mexico, if anyone's interested. Hi, Raven. I've only been listening to your videos for about a week, but I wanted to tell you some of my strangest stories. I have quite a few, so you can pick your favorites. Also, my timeline may be skewed as these happened in my childhood.

Number one, my family was pretty poor, so much so that we had to live in a family. tent for one summer. I only remember that it wasn't too far from my grandparents, but we were deep in the woods down a dirt road. It was a very late night, returning from a day elsewhere.

As we were driving down a long dirt road, I was staring out the van window and up into the trees. As we drove to our tent, I noticed glaring red eyes lined up in the trees all the way down the road. Curious, I leaned to the other side to see if it was the same, and though the trees were farther from the

road, the eyes were on the other side also. As a child, I used to call them the red-eyed monkeys, but still today I couldn't tell you what they really were. We don't live anywhere near where there would be monkeys of any kind. Number two, at some point in my childhood we lived on an old farmhouse with my aunt and cousins. This house was known for a lot of activity. There was a late night that I had woken up from my parents' bed, two noises in the kitchen just down the stairs from our room. I thought it was my grandma and aunt,

as they had usually gotten up really early in the morning, so I went to investigate. As I went down the stairs, I noticed that two of the chairs had been pulled out, but no one was in them, which was unusual. So I thought maybe they moved to the living room where I couldn't see them. I continued my way down the stairs until a few steps from the bottom, when something I couldn't see grabbed my wrist and pulled me the rest of the way.

As soon as my feet hit the kitchen floor, it let go and ran back to my parents. There are many more stories of this house, but this was mine. All of these next ones will be encounters with my aunt who had passed. Number three, I had a favorite aunt, but who doesn't? She was the youngest of my dad's siblings and we did everything together. When I was eight, she died in a car accident drunk driving. My grandma had her body cremated, and her ashes were put in a large pink metal urn. A Christmas after she passed, my other aunt, who worked at a ski resort, rented cottages for the family to stay in for a short time, like a mini vacation.

In one of these cottages, my grandma put my aunt's urn in the fireplace and took a photo of the Christmas tree with it in the background. Sometime later, she was using the family computer at home to make Christmas cards using that photo. The only ones at the house were her, myself, and one of my cousins. My cousin and I were fairly young, maybe ten or so. We didn't really know much about using a computer, let alone the word program. My grandma had taken a small break to use the bathroom, and my cousin and I never left the couch. We were too into our cartoon show. When she'd come back to finish and print the cards,

She asked us if we had touched the computer at all. Of course, we hadn't. We never moved from our spot. She might have been skeptical at first because she called us over to look at the screen. On the computer was her Christmas card with the original photo of the tree and the urn, but on top was a sort of ghost image of my aunt who had passed with almost angel wings behind her, barely visible. And a small chat bubble was also now on the photo that read, I love and miss you all.

My cousin and I swore to our grandma that we never touched the computer while she was gone. She's always been a believer in the supernatural or paranormal. When she decided that we were telling the truth, she started crying, hoping and believing that it was my aunt coming back to say goodbye. Number four. I'll make this my last one. There are many more that I could tell you, but this is already long.

This was a few years ago when I was still living with my parents. Maybe 2018 or 19. There was a night that I just had a feeling to start talking to my aunt, who had died whenever I was eight. I don't know what gave me this feeling, but I did it. I told her about my day, my year, just trying to catch her up on things. I didn't talk for very long as I was pretty tired, so when I decided to be done, I said,

Good night, Aunt Emmy, I love you, and turned over to try and sleep. As I was laying there, just listening to nothing, I heard a slight scraping sound behind me. It was small and short, but I know that I heard it. I laid there thinking about it, but I had to get up to find out what it was, as I had a cat in my room also.

I wanted to make sure that my cat hadn't pulled down any of my knick-knacks from my bookshelf, so I got up and turned the light on to investigate. For context, I collected small toy horses based on my favorite computer game when I was a kid, so I had a few on this shelf, but I also had a ton of other small figures, stones and other things covering the space in front of my books on every shelf. As I look at the bookshelf to figure out what's out of place,

I notice that one of my horses, an all-white one, was now on the opposite side of the shelf that I'd had it on. I know for a fact that I had put it on the other end for balance, since I had a black one opposite of it. This white horse was now somehow next, to the black horse, facing my bed where I was laying, even though the shelf between the two horses was covered in so many other things. It was not physically possible to slide the horse from one side to the other

without shoving everything else onto the floor. I still think about this, and I still have no explanation for it. I hope that you like these stories, and maybe one will be told in your video. They all will. I haven't had any paranormal events happen since the last story, but I do have a few creepy sleep paralysis stories. And thank you for reading. I've debated for months about posting my story, and I finally come to the decision to post it and see what opinions I receive. Forgive me, as I've never been the best at writing stories.

I've experienced several hauntings, but this one in particular still may be. makes the hair on my neck stand at attention. This incident happened about six years ago, when my son was a little over one, but I remember every detail as if it happened yesterday. Here's a little bit of backstory going through the day before the event occurred. My now ex-husband and I started our evening off by going to a family friend's house for dinner and catching up. Before leaving, we decided to ask.

about borrowing her movie Annabel as we had not yet seen it. She agreed, so we headed home to our tiny two-bedroom apartment. We put our son down for a nap and proceeded to watch this movie, which I ended up being a fan of. I love all things scary. Anyways, skipped later in the night, and my best friend Elle messaged me and wanted to hang out for a bit. I went to her house and picked her up.

We then went back to the apartment, had some girl talk, played cards, and then decided to put the borrowed Annabelle movie back in as Elle had not seen it yet. Myself, being the horror fanatic that I am, I didn't mind watching it again. We got our popcorn and drinks and got the movie started. As the movie began, we noticed that the audio was not working. I got up, took the DVD out and cleaned it. I reset the DVD player and started the movie again. Still no sound. I started skipping through the movie to see if it was just at certain points.

As I'm skipping through the movie, we finally do get sound. However, the only sound coming through is from the demon talking. Now, we're looking at each other puzzled and honestly freaked out. To remind you that my ex and I had just watched this movie a few hours probably. and now the sound that we hear is only from the parts in the movie when the demon speaks. We decided to forget about the movie and call it a night. I grabbed the movie and we left to take Elle back home. After dropping her off, I go to the other friend's house to return her movie.

I explained the situation and told her how it freaked me out. She believes that there's a simple explanation for everything, so this didn't bother her as much as it bothered her. me. However, it gets more weird as I'm getting ready to leave. My brother, who was living with this friend at the time, met me at the car and starts telling me that he found a Ouija board earlier during our visit, when we initially borrowed the movie. I shrugged it off thinking it was odd, but in no way connected to the movie messing up. I headed home for the night to get some much-needed rest, I put my son to bed for the night in his bassinet, and I crawled into bed myself.

Between 3 and 4 a.m., I was suddenly awakened, but unsure of what woke me. As I'm looking around the room, I notice it. My son's baby swing is rocking. The swing is off, and was obviously not moving when I went to bed. I'm watching for what feels like forever, and when it starts swinging faster and faster, and then all of the sudden I'm hit in the face with a bald-up t-shirt. I immediately wake my ex up crying and try to explain what happened. Despite me having the shirt in my hand, he says that it was just a bad dream

and for me to go back to sleep. I decided to go along with it, as my mind couldn't quite wrap around what exactly had happened. I lay down, and I roll towards the wall to go back to sleep. Moments after rolling over, I get this overwhelming urge to turn around, almost like something is telling me that I really need to turn around. I roll over, and I sit up, and that's when I see it. I see this tall, dark, shadowy figure standing over my son's bassinet,

with its hands holding on to the sides. This figure had horns on its head, long, pointy fingers, and its bottom half resembled something like a goat. I sat there staring at this figure for what seemed like an hour when, all of a sudden, it slowly turns its head, looks at me, and I swear to you, smiles at me, and then just vanishes. As soon as it vanishes, my son wakes up screaming. I've explained this experience to only a soul. small group of people. Some believed me and some did not, but of all the things that I have ever experienced, this is by far the worst. I still get chills thinking about it. I tried to condense this as much as possible, but it spans most of my life. SP refers to sleep paralysis,

and before 22 this all takes place in Aurora, Missouri. So, I have SP, undiagnosed. But one of my first memories I have is waking up in my bed, probably at the age of 10, and not being able to move. But seeing a very tall, dark, grey being resembling what most people would call an alien. It was hiding in the corner of my room. I remember not feeling scared, but was more so startled that something was in, in my space.

About four years later, we moved to this very old Victorian house, one of the first built in the city. Sometimes in the summer, I would play video games in the basement to escape the heat. And right above where my TV would sit,

there was a hole in the wall leading to the crawl space under the house that was pitch black and very ominous. While down there one day, I went into a sort of trance, and when I came to, I was still sitting where I was, but staring blankly into the dark hole for an unknown amount of time. This house was so old that it had two sets of stairs,

one for the people living there, and the other for the servants. One day I was headed down these servant stairs, staring at my feet, and I looked up to see a girl at the end of the stairs, in a white gown, with black hair in her face. Almost exactly like in the movie The Ring. Another time I was home alone, and I heard something upstairs run from one room to the other. And it was so loud that my dog stood up and looked at me.

I did go upstairs to check every room, but found nothing. Then, no issues for years, that I remember. and then fast forward to about the age of 22. The sleep paralysis is worse than ever, and at this point, I cannot sleep without having the feeling that something is watching me. It's interesting to note that when I would go somewhere very far, like being deployed to other countries,

I would be okay for about a month, and it would start again almost like it took a while to find and travel to me. Then I started seeing things while not being asleep. At one point, I can't remember if I had fallen asleep, or if I was in the process, but I looked up and saw the same girl as before from the Victorian house on my ceiling, right above my bed, and I jumped up to turn on the light, and it was gone. After that incident, I've never slept without a living.

light on ever again, although it didn't really help. At the beginning of 2021, 27 at the time, I would try to fight my body to try to get it to move during sleep paralysis more and more. After fighting it so much, I would start waking up without being able to move, but also hear a loud ringing in my ears, and feel extra daisy, almost like being hit. hit by a stun grenade. I also started hearing noises of something being moved or manipulated, like someone touching or moving things.

Some things would fall randomly, but not very often. I also bought a townhome and have always heard loud walking and scratching in my upstairs crawl space, while completely awake. My girlfriend also hears it and refuses to sleep upstairs when it happens. I went to check when she begged me to look in the middle of the night, and there was nothing there. Not even a place an animal could get in. I also had an incident where my girlfriend was crying downstairs in the dark while visiting me. Her dog had run away back home, and she looked up to see what appeared to be me standing there by the stairs, shrouded in darkness.

not being able to see the front of the form due to the dark, she called out to it thinking that it was me. There was no response, and when she wiped her tears to look back, it was gone. The O.P. has added an edit. I forgot to mention my neighbor that I share a wall with at my townhome, has also stated that ever since I moved in, her bedroom and hallway light turns on and off by themselves throughout,

the night. It all happens less frequently now, but I still never sleep in the dark. I also have never felt rested and thought I had sleep apnea for the longest time, but was tested and found not to have it. Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated. My friend Pedro and I were notorious for getting into some pretty dangerous situations. We've explored a few old. and abandoned houses that turned out to be drug houses, as well as some other unsavory activities.

We've trespassed onto properties that we also nearly escaped from, but at the end of the day, it was an adrenaline rush that we looked forward to. Sometimes we would take a souvenir, but that was rare. We preferred larger dilapidated buildings. We liked to see the places crumbling and imagining what it looked like in its days of prime. We also liked to get into crevices way up high and see what we could get into. Maybe parkour in a way. That's where this story took place.

I started dating a girl that lived about 45 minutes from me. We'd been driving around her neighborhood when I spotted a large old brick building. It had two of those large chimneys on top and a chain-link fence surrounding it. I asked her if she knew anything about it. it, and she said that it was an old factory that used to make pesticides. After talking a bit more about it, she said that her grandfather used to work there when he was younger, but that it was shut down before she was even born. She knew that I was into things like that, so she just told me to be careful, and mentioned

there being some underground tunnel system they used to dispose of waste. So, that being said, I told Pedro about it. it and we made plans to check it out it wasn't actually that hard to find information on the tunnel below it I learned that some other Urbex members had gone through it some people mentioned that it seemed pretty creepy and that something felt off so that they didn't try to get into the factory however we were both determined to go through it so there we are finally at the tunnel entrance ready for a new adventure After making sure that no one was around, we crawled through the tunnel entrance, the fence covering had already been cut, and once in, I was surprised to see the lights in the tunnels still working.

It was nice to have the light, but otherwise, I could definitely see what others were talking about. There was quite a creepy feeling down there. There was nothing flowing through the tunnels and pipes, but there was a low humming. sound the whole time. We managed to find the end of the tunnels, and there was a pretty weak lock on the door. Yes, what we did was not allowed, or really legal, so I do not condone our choices, but this is what we did. We were able to pretty easily break the lock, and we made our way into the factory.

People had obviously been in here. Some things were pretty well scrapped and gutted, and there was graffiti on the wall. I assume they probably put in the locks and possibly the fence because of it. One thing I did notice as we walked around was the dull humming sound continued. Nothing worked in this factory. There was no electricity running inside, as far as I could tell. No airflow, no water running, and none of the machinery worked or moved. But the sound was almost like some kind of machine.

We walked around each of the tall machines, the walls, and shelves. Between the size of the equipment and how tall the factory was itself, it made me feel very small, like an ant in a giant's home. But then it started getting weird. We walked towards a large vat, and the air became cold and heavy. Something was now feeling very wrong. I'm not one to be spooked easily, but... for some reason, my fight or flight started to kick in.

I started looking around for someone possibly watching or following us, but the problem was that I didn't see anyone. Not even Pedro. He walked over to the Vat with me, but he was gone. I called out for him, but didn't get a response. I started walking back the way we came and called out for him again. When I heard his voice clear as day say, Hey, stop messing around, man.

I didn't know why he said that, but I knew that he had to be close. I traced my steps back the way we came, and still he was nowhere. I tried different parts of the factory, thinking maybe we just got separated, but I still couldn't find him. But then, as I approached a door to what I assumed was an office, I saw a dark shadow run by in my peripheral. I quickly looked up, but there was nothing there. but the air again got colder and was almost suffocating.

Something wasn't right. I couldn't find Pedro and we never split up like that. Something or someone was in here and the air was wrong. I called out once more for Pedro and told him that I was out, hoping that if he was in there, he would follow behind me. As I started through the tunnel, I could hear footsteps that were not, mine. When I would stop, the steps would continue for a few seconds after. It also sounded like it was coming from behind me, but no one was there. I had finally reached the top of creepy stuff that I

could handle, and I ran towards the tunnel exit. To my surprise, when I got there, Pedro was already out there, pacing back and forth until he saw me. He ran up to me and kept asking me if I saw it, and where I had been. But I was the last one out, so where the hell had he been? He explained that he started walking towards the large fat with me, and then he saw a very large dark shadow walk between us, causing him to jump backwards. He had shouted something to me,

but said he was confused when I didn't even react. I didn't look back at him. I didn't stop walking. I didn't jump. Nothing. and I told him the reason I didn't was because I never heard him say anything. He stood there as the shadow seemed to linger over me, and when he heard my voice, but slightly warped, say,

You need to leave. He didn't hesitate. He's not a big ghost and paranormal person, so I get it. He ran out of there and hoped that I was right behind him, thinking maybe I saw something in the large container. But to add to the bewilderment, he said that he never said the stop messing around part. He was most likely already gone. So we both heard each other's voice, but neither of us spoke.

I had to admit, I was pretty damn spooked, too, so we left that place. The next day I was talking to my girlfriend about it, and what we saw. And while she was intrigued, she also said she wasn't surprised. She explained that the place had been shut down because of how dangerous it was. She said the chemicals used in the pesticides they made were highly toxic, and it actually led to some of the health issues for those that worked there. A few people even died from it. However, the company said it wasn't their fault,

claiming that working around it wasn't a problem. It was whenever someone tried stealing it and spilling it on themselves. I guarantee you that no one was stealing pesticides. but that's just me, I guess. Eventually, the company was consumed by angry workers and families of those that died, so they eventually had to close shop. After learning about and further researching this, I have no doubt that there are probably some trapped souls in that factory,

and they were either angry with us for disturbing them, or maybe they were trying to protect us from a similar fate. Either way, it was still an experience, and the only thing that really had me freaked out. I don't think I'll go back there any time soon, but there was definitely something, or someone, there with us, and I will never forget about it. I'm not going to lie, this has a funny twist at the end,

but at the time we were really disturbed. This happened to me and two of my cousins when I was 17 years old. one of them was 15 and the other 13. If I recall correctly, this was the 5th of January in 2003. We're from a rural area in Spain, and by that time it was hard to get line on our mobile phones, so we used to spend a lot of time in spots where we could get some. One was an abandoned house beside a path leaving the town. It was around 20,100 hours, and one of the first of the same.

my cousins was talking by phone with his girlfriend while I was there standing just looking at the stars. Suddenly, I saw it. The light looked like plain lights, but they were all orange. It was so low that I could see bits of structure surrounding the lights, and it looked bulky and not aerodynamic. It crossed the sky above us zigzagging and changing from direction many times. I called for the attention of my cousins and both were amazed as we were looking at the object. The younger one started using the voice recorder of his phone to record a depiction of what we were seeing. And this was the strangest part.

When it reached the horizon line, above the mountains, it blew up, turning into a fireball. We didn't see anything fall. It just disintegrated. And we kept looking around there for a while, just. to notice that there was a lot of activity. Many small lights were flying around the area of the explosion. We stood there for a while, silently, not knowing what to say, until my youngest cousin tried to play the voice recording that he did, and it was full of interferences with weird sounds and static,

something that has never happened. He used to do voice records when something memorable happened to him. Just after that, things actually got pretty funny, as his phone just starts casually ringing. It has the X-Files theme as a ringtone. We already knew the phone had that tone, but the timing was perfect. At that moment, I just managed to say with a scared voice, Okay, this was weird as hell. I think it's time to leave.

As a quick note, the story does contain mention of, self-harm, as well as mentions of attempting to take one's life. So, if that's not something that you can personally listen to, the timestamps are down below, and I recommend that you skip this story. I'm a 66-year-old woman who has many strange and unexplained experiences. There were three experiences where my life was protected by an unseen force. The first happened when I was 28. I was home. I was home. I was home to my life. I was home alone, my roommate was gone for the weekend. I was despondent, depressed at the time, yet I do not remember what I had brought me to the state of despair. Anyway, I took out one of my

cutlery knives and was poised to cut my wrists in the dining room. All of the sudden, the knife forcefully flung out of my hand and slid to the far end of the kitchen. My hand was a a downward position. It would have been impossible for me to throw the knife that far. I just laid on the floor sobbing for a while and then went to my room and went to sleep. The next day I picked up the knife and put it away. I no longer desired to do what I had almost done. The second time, I had worked a very long and exhausting double shift at the hospital. I was a lobotomist, and it had been a grueling busy two shifts. I went to the parking lot and got in my car.

It was a stick shift. I headed out onto the main street and was headed for home, and the next thing I remember is waking up parked behind the house that I lived in, motor off. Something else drove my car that day, as I am sure that I fell asleep at the wheel. and on the third, it was St. Patrick's Day. My roommate Michael brought home an Irish dinner, corned beef, potatoes, and cabbage.

A piece of corned beef got caught in my airway, and I couldn't breathe. Michael was performing the Heimlich maneuver, but it wasn't working. I was turning blue and thinking that it was all over. Somehow, Michael and I fell straight backwards. Me, flat on top of him. Back then, I was 175 pounds, and Michael was an under-average sort of guy. I was pushed up and forward, and my chest hit the edge of the counter in just the right place, so that the meat dislodged.

Slowly I was able to get air. Michael and I looked at each other, and he said, I didn't do that. What did that? Absolutely glad to be alive, I said, well, someone up there likes me today. I will never forget these events, and I'm extremely grateful for whatever energy was behind saving me. It proves to me that there are forces here helping us, and thank you for letting me share. This is something I experienced dozens of times while sharing a house with my roommate back in the late.

90s, 97 to 1999, to be precise. There were multiple times at night where I would wake up from a sound sleep, because I felt like I was being watched, or that there was a presence in my room with me. When I opened my eyes, I would see matte, black spheres the size of a volleyball, very slowly moving along the edge of where the walls of the room joined the ceiling. There were usually three or four of these at once, spaced out, evenly around the room. When they would reach a corner, they would abruptly turn 90 degrees to continue along the edge of the wall slash ceiling. They never moved lower or varied from their path.

Think like Pac-Man. No sound, no smells, no lights, or any other descriptions of them that I can give you. The first few times I saw this, I thought that they were floaters in my eyes, so I would rub them and, no, they were still there. A few times I jumped out of bed and flipped on the lights, and they were gone. I would flip the lights off, and boom, they were there again, slowly moving around the room. I've never experienced anything before or since like this. I have a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with that house, or maybe just that room.

The guy that rented the room prior to me was a good friend with my roommate, Paul, whom I'm still best friends with to this day, and Paul told me when I moved in, that Chip, the guy who lived there before me, used to complain about seeing weird things in the room. Hopefully I didn't mind. I'm very open-minded, so of course I welcomed any high strangeness. Strangely enough, I told a friend of mine about this a few years back, and he turned stark

white, and said to me, are you serious, dude? Because I used to see the exact same thing in my room in Venezuela as a teenager. Maybe it's some sort of minor brain seizure or waking hallucination, but to this day. I still wonder about it. I've had experiences with paranormal encounters my whole life, and people never believed me until I met my dad after ten years of not knowing him. I'm 15 years old. I had spent this summer with my dad, and one night he handed me a bell that had belonged to his mom

that had died three years prior. He asked me what I felt when holding the bell, and it felt cold. Like not normal cold, but cold, cold, cold. Like freezing. And he told me that it belonged to his mom that died a while back. He told me that she had always wanted to meet me and my older sister, but what I didn't know is that I had met her before.

Her spirit had come to me at my grandparent's house about a year ago. She looked at me and said, You have my nose, and she smiled. I told my dad about it, and he was shocked and asked what she looked like. I told him reddish-brown hair and green-blue eyes, and that she was about 5'1, my height. He just stood there staring at me. He let me keep the bell after he realized it was meant for me,

and when I was 11, I had a friend named Bella Grace, who would sit in my clock. and bring me clean-cut sandwiches. Turns out she was an entity or spirit, and has been following me throughout my life to this day. I can also feel people's emotions, in a way. I can feel when people are upset, and my dad also knows about that, too,

because he'd come home from work, and when he walked in, I started crying because I got a big wave of anxiety and anger from him. He hugged me and asked why I was crying, crying, and I asked him, what did she say? It was bad, wasn't it? I was talking about his girlfriend that is complicated.

And he said, How did you know about that? And then I told him everything. I know most people question me, but that's okay. I still sense and see things around me, and I just choose not to say anything to people. We moved in this home. home around 2000 or 2001.

I was three or four. Honestly, after moving in, it felt like our lives had went downhill. I honestly believe there was something evil in that house. My mom says the first night that she slept in the house, she dreamed of a thick fog and a black cat. She woke up and remembers telling dad that they messed up buying the house, and that it gave her a feeling of dread. My grandma, on my dad's side,

and my mom were sitting in the living room while I was sitting on the floor playing. I don't remember this because I was so young, but she said that we all heard a man groan behind the door. She says that my eyes got real big and I said, uh-oh, the house looked like it was from the 90s. In one of the rooms where, for a while, we used as the junk room, where we would just put odds and ends, things in there,

there were outlines of where posters had once been on the walls. The space was white where the posters had been, the rest of the walls had a yellow tinge. I'm guessing it was where someone smoked a lot. Also, where our back door was, where our washer and dryer would be in our utility room, there were tiny scratches at the bottom of the door. It separated the utility room.

room from the kitchen. They were like cat scratches. And there was a door in my parents' room, and at the bottom of that door there was those same scratches. Things were heard, felt, seen in that house. I remember when I was around six or seven, I thought I saw, in the back room, out of the corner of my eye, something white. Like a white dress with a long train go from one side to the other of the room.

in the dark. It might have been my imagination, but I can't swear on it. I would have dreams where I would try and run out of one of the rooms, and I couldn't. I couldn't scream. I felt my legs went numb, and it was like I couldn't run away. Like something would be waiting for me or dragging me back. My mom woke up one morning and saw what she thought was my dad at the end of the bed. It was a workday, and she thought that he came back home.

too early. It was a man that she said had red hair. My dad has red hair and was wearing like a blue workman's uniform, like a boiler suit, but separate pants and shirt. Then when she looked back, the man was gone. My grandma and grandpa, who was on hospice, he was in a roll around bed, stayed with us in the house so that my mom could help give medication to grandpa. My grandma had a dream where she saw the man with red hair and beard in the bathroom in the mirror over the sink. My grandpa was scared for the lights to be turned off. At this time, my parents would argue, like all the time. Anyone who stayed in the house, it was like the tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

I was having problems of my own. I was depressed, nearly all of the time. I always felt like I was being watched. like there was always something just watching me. I would look over my shoulder, and of course there would be nothing. My grandma had felt one time something get into bed with her. The way she described it, it was like a big dog. She would kick it out of bed half asleep,

and it would then get back into the bed with her, kick it out, get back in, until finally it stopped. I remember my mom and I were watching, oddly enough, the ghost and mismoire, 1947. In my parents' bedroom, when all of the sudden we heard this loud bang. Like, the only way I can describe it is like someone took a concrete block and threw it as hard as they could against the floor in the bathroom or closet. We jumped up and looked, but nothing.

Nothing had fallen. But it was so loud and it definitely sounded like it was coming from their closet. Their closet was huge. It was a deep walk-in closet. My grandma was up one morning taking care of my grandpa when she said she started hearing sounds of wire hangers, violently hitting the sides of the closet wall. She knocked on my parents' door, because she thought my mom had gotten into a fight with my dad and was packing his stuff, or hers, while yanking the clothes off of the hangers, letting them hit the closet wall.

She found out that my parents were still asleep. My mom sat on the couch one day and felt something furry rub against her leg, like a cat. There wasn't a cat there. This happened twice, the second time she felt it pulled on her shirt. Grandma and mom said that they were sitting on the couch and that they heard a picking sound, like a cat sharpening its nails on this treadmill that they had. There were marks on the treadmill from the cat's claws, but no cat. We didn't have a cat.

On Halloween, my mom put out a stepmat that we had for years. That when you stepped on it, a man's voice would say, Happy Halloween, ha, ha, ha, ha. It was a really cute stepmat. Purple, with an orange pumpkin. It started going off by itself, though, like someone stepped on it. She then ripped out the voice box and step sensor mechanism. Other things have happened, but this post is already too long,

and some things that I can't remember. All I know is that we finally had enough, and moved out when I was eight or nine. My mom says that she believed that there was a ghost of a cat there. She didn't think that it was bad, and she just felt sorry for it.