The Tape Library - Archive of the Paranormal & the Unexplained - TRUE Ghost Stories To Fall Asleep To (Vol 3)

Episode Date: April 28, 2023

Tonight I'm bringing you 3 hours of real life horror stories to keep you up all night. First we're delving into 5 true accounts of a security guard who has encountered a whole host of paranormal experiences. Then I'll be covering all the best true ghost stories that have been submitted to the tape library so far this year. In this 3-hour episode of ghost stories, you'll be surprised to hear unbelievable real life ghost stories that will keep you up all night! From unexplained sightings to chilling paranormal encounters, you won't be able to put these stories down! If you're looking for a scary way to wind down after a long day, then this is the episode for you! In this 3-hour episode, you'll hear some of the scariest real life ghost stories ever told. From spooky old houses to chilling cryptids, you'll be scared out of your mind! So curl up and let these ghost stories take you to bed! Do you have a supernatural story to share? Drop me an email at [e-mail] You can check out The Tape Library in video form at www.youtube.com/TheTapeLibrary Sources- https://www.reddit.com/user/Djstone1991/ Chapters - 00:00 Real Ghost Stories To Fall Asleep To 02:03 True Paranormal Encounters of a Security Guard 42:11 Best Real Ghost Stories 2023 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to tonight's show. It's another dark rainy night out there. But don't worry, I'm here with you. We're on this long drive together, and I have just the thing to get you through. Terrifying real-life tales of the paranormal. Tonight I have true encounters with poltergeists, haunted houses, cryptids, and some beings that transcend words. If you are an avid listener of the tape library, then you might recall that I recently mentioned

I had met someone online who has worked as a security guard for many years. This person has seen some things during his career. Things he can't explain. things that keep him up at night. Tonight we're going to delve into five of his horrifying encounters, but we've got a long journey ahead of us. So after that, I'll be dipping back into our archives to share with you all the best stories that we've had submitted to the tape library

this year so far. So get yourself comfortable. We're going to have a quick word from our sponsors, but after that we'll have no ads until our journey comes to its end. Let's begin with our first story, shall we? This is one of my favourites and sees our new security guard friend entering a hotel's basement.

What he finds is unusual, to say the least, true encounters of a security guard. Case number one The Rookie Good morning, true believers. Starting off, this happened last Wednesday night into Thursday morning. Recently my company started providing armed security for an old hotel in southern Colorado Springs.

I don't know exactly how old this place is, but it has been an active hotel since I was very young. Well, as we started the contract, the standard for the first two months was to have two security officers working. one senior and one new. My last shift I was paired with a really annoying rookie, and this kid was uptight and dumb. For years it's been known that many deaths, be it suicide, natural, or even a few incidents of murder,

have occurred at this hotel. My concern was to make sure heavy drug users didn't sneak into the building and squat. The new kid though wanted to inspect everything, from the littlest noise, to anyone walking around after midnight, to see if they were a guest or not. Well, I think when we got called to the basement,

it changed the kid's overly inquisitive nature, which just plain affected him. Front desk to security, the hotel radio poorly chimed out. Go for security, I replied, thinking it was another guest call complaining about their neighbour, or a homeless person in the lobby. Can you both check the basement?

A motion sensor trip was sent to the front desk switchboard, and I wasn't down there. You'd have to come get the key for the access stairs, the night auditor said half awake. Thinking to myself, if we have to get a key to access it, how would someone have got down there? As we approached the front desk, the night auditor stated that the switchboard had gone off twice more since she called us, less than three minutes earlier. So curious, I asked, how could someone get down there without a key to the stairwell door? Oh, I forgot to mention the broken elevator.

It isn't broken, it just only goes from the first floor to the service area of the basement, without the maid's key at the moment. She stated like it was no big deal. A annoyed, I grabbed the key off the counter and told the rookie to look alive in case someone went down there knowing that bit of information. At the mouth to the basement behind the doors, I began hearing heavy moans and breathing that sounded like it could have been directly behind the door

or on the complete other side of the basement. Before we go in, I am the lead officer. You will not do anything unless I tell you to. Stay on my six and follow my lead. Do you understand? I barked at the rookie. To which he did a quick but confident nod. I pushed open the door and announced, Security, if anyone is in here, announce yourself now,

as this is a standard for when we enter an area on most of our properties, when we suspect trespasses are present. The rookie followed in behind me as I proceeded. The safety lights were on every other fixture, so I didn't feel it necessary to turn on the full lights, since there was enough light to see everything clearly. Towards the complete opposite side of the basement, we began to hear what sounded like someone jingling a large key ring.

My first thought was, Oh, Joy, another meth head. As I began moving down the corridor, I heard the sound of the hood of a holster disengaged, pissed. I turned right around to chastise the rookie for drawing his gun. But anger turned to confusion. He was standing there. Pale and fixated eyes forward. Did? Did you hear that? He stammered. I replied, it might just be a machine switching.

But remember, follow my lead. Now thinking there was someone at the end of the corridor in the main laundry, I unsnap my taser latch just in case. As we approached the end of the basement to the other locked stairwell access, we didn't find anything out of the normal, or a person trying to nest. But as we reached the freight elevator, we found a sign that set the next set of events in motion. Sign red, security, all elevator access to the basement will be unavailable overnight, from the first to the 12th. If you need access, get the key from the desk. I took a picture to show the night auditor, but got a chill while doing so. As the rookie and I began double checking in every area on the way back to the stairs we came in from,

we started experiencing minor paranormal occurrences, starting after the rookie found a few spiritual items. While still in the main laundry, towards the far-back secondary stairs, stairs, the rookie found an unburned bundle of white sage, wrapped in white lace, sitting on top of one of the large machines. Not knowing anything about sage, the rookie quickly snatched it off the machine. Hey, I think I found a weird joint. I turned to see him holding a bundle of white sage. Hey, dumbass, first, put that down. Second, it's not marijuana. It was a cleansing sage. The kid did not know anything about paranormal phenomenon

or how to protect against it. So I told him not to pick up anything, especially if it isn't something he's familiar with. After he put it back where he grabbed it from, the first occurrence happened. As he set it down, 20 feet behind him, a shelf filled with clean folded towels fell completely off the wall. As we documented it for a report, a small snicker came from further up the corridor,

only like a split second of a snicker. We began moving up to the next section where the overstocked furniture and appliances were stored. An overhead pipe that was not leaking when we passed under it earlier was now leaking, like a huge cracker just happened. I thought this was odd because I was sure of the amount of water leaks. the amount of water leaking, we would have heard it regardless of our location in the basement. As I was inspecting the pipe for the point of the leak, the rookie yet again picked up something. Hey, this isn't Sage 2, is it? I looked to see him smelling Palosanto wood, tied with red ribbon.

Dude, I replied exhausted when he just drops it. I looked down in the puddle of water from the leaking to see a bear. footprint within the water. Starting to get freaked out, I stated we needed to get back upstairs. We proceeded to the second to last section. Immediately I noticed a cross on the wall, on a wall that I didn't spot earlier, with lavender sage wrapped in purple lace. Take a quick look around and make sure nothing is going on so we can go, I said, try not to show I was getting unnerved. Nothing happened in the that section until just before we move through the double doors, when all the safety

lights behind us, back to the laundry, started flickering. Honestly, thinking something was going to happen but not wanting to show that I was starting to freak out, I told the rookie to move to the last room. Finally, the last area where we came in from. Luckily in here was only two small planning offices in the hub room. The different was presumed when we entered the basement to now, was that the light was on inside the hub room. I told the rookie to watch the hall as I checked the planning offices, which was quick. But when I went into the hub room to check and turn off the lights, I looked down at the server monitor for the main cameras. In the hub room it had the whole hotel cameras on this one

monitor. Up at the front desk the cameras only showed the exterior, hallways of the rooms and pool areas. So I took a glance at the screen and noticed the lights were still flickering in the main laundry. A big pause in the lights occurred and the night vision started to kick on. Slowly, a figure on the screen from the laundry became visible. I realized while intently staring that the figure was standing next to the machine, that the white sage was on. A bright flash lit the monitor window as the light came back on. My heart dropped as the room lay empty. The person who was standing in the night vision of the camera and was just gone. I looked away to the doorframe of the hub room and see a bundle of

Black Sage nailed to the frame, wrapped and blacked wine. I walked out, closing the door behind me. We clear? asked the rookie. Still stunned by what I saw on the camera, I replied. We're done down here. We entered the stairwell and locked the door. Back in the lobby, the night auditor came over and asked if we found anything. When we go up front and smoke, then I'll show you the issues we found, I said, pulling the pack from my pocket. The auditor seemingly knowing that I was startled.

asked. You didn't touch the wards, did you? I looked her in the eye without saying a word. Oh dear, you did. It's now been roughly a week since I've been there, and I can say I'm not looking forward to going back. A quick follow-up. I found out this afternoon that the rookie I worked with that night

has departed the company. I wasn't told if he quit or was fired, that he's not on the staff anymore as of today. So I'm curious if he left because of what happened. Case two, the Pines Apartments. Because this is an ongoing client of my company, with numerous legal investigations currently under review, some facts have been altered. To begin this incident, in the summer of 2020, a resident was found deceased of a narcotics overdose inside of the apartments this story takes place in. As of January 2023, a new resident has moved into the apartment.

I've worked all over town and have no issues with general homeless people, but in this area the homeless tend to have narcotics issues. We were hired several years back due to constant users breaking into the building to do drugs, as well as other incidents that I'm unable to speak on. speak on. During this last summer, the summer of 2022, the resident in the southern most third floor apartment passed away of a drug overdose. It had been suspected for some time by us, the security, property management and the local PD that the resident was using and dealing narcotics out of his apartment. Luckily the night the resident was found deceased, I wasn't

the one working. Jumped to February 23. I arrived at the property and dismounted to begin my property check. As I approached the second third floor landing on the south side stairwell, a panicked irate woman rushed towards me. Thinking I was PD, the woman started to tell me how she saw me pull onto the property and told 911 dispatch an officer had arrived. I informed the woman I was just armed security and contracted by property management, but I can assist depending on the situation.

situation. Well, I recently moved in, only a few weeks now, but someone locked themselves in my bathroom. And I live alone, she frantically stated. My facial expression became one of annoyance, thinking about the several months it took to repair the door frames to secure the entrance to the apartment after the previous resident departed, and how during those months we had to clear the apartment several times a night, because users were the we've managed to get into the building. I looked at the woman. I'll take a look.

Go ahead and call back emergency services and let them know you're with security. I called out to my dispatch to inform them I was entering that apartment and to have a cover officer start my way. As I entered into the unit, I noticed the air inside the apartment felt heavy, foreboding and unwelcoming.

These are small efficiency apartment. one bedroom, a kitchen, small living room and a bathroom. I've been inside this specific unit a lot over the last six months, so I went directly to the bathroom door, thinking the whole time that the bathroom door was just inside the bedroom. So if someone got in, they would have had to climb the building into the window, which for this place wouldn't be entirely surprising. Sure enough, the door was locked and the light was off from what I saw under the door.

Just as I walked back to the landing where the resident was still standing, I saw that my cover officer had arrived. I started asking why she thought someone was inside her bathroom, and if it was possible if she accidentally locked herself out. Overly frustrated, the woman started loudly stating she wasn't crazy, that she heard a man inside the bathroom, mumbling and going through the cabinets. I looked at the cover officer with a, you're probably not needed look. when we heard, an echoing groan, come from the open door of the apartment. Me and the other officer both rushed into the apartment and ran to the bathroom door. I started heavily knocking on the bathroom door, issuing orders that the individual exit immediately. Shortly after I issued this command, PD officers came into the room.

The supervisor asked what was happening, and I explained what I already knew. The police supervisor knew the apartment well as he had been there multiple times to take control of detained individuals from when the door was broken. As the five of us stood outside the bathroom, we started hearing the bath and sink running. One of the cops made a joke that the subject must really want to bath. We all chuckled. We then heard a man sobbing inside the bathroom. At this time a property maintenance person arrived, and the police confirmed with the resident that they were permitted to make any. entry. Myself and the other security officer decided to wait on the stairwells with the resident.

Almost immediately we all hear one of the cops loudly say, what in the paranormal activity crap is going on? And hearing this I laughed. I looked at the woman and told her no one was inside the bathroom. My cover officer mentioned that the last tenant had passed inside the apartment. The resident looked at us with concern. We learnt that she wasn't notified of that upon signing their lease. Me and my cover officer let the police speak to the resident and maintenance guy. And stepped outside to have a quick cigarette while waiting for the police to come outside. Kind of messed up they didn't tell them about the last resident upon leasing the apartment.

My cover officer said. I replied. Not our responsibility though. The police came outside and started giving us the basic information we needed for our reports. The police supervisor started off saying, I don't believe in ghosts and all. That was creepy. He then went on to tell us that when they entered, all the cabinets were open.

The toilet was flushing by itself. Both the sink and tub were running. Huh, that all? I jokingly asked. When one of the other cops showed us a photo of that bathroom on his work phone. The mirror cabinet was opened and looked like everything was knocked out onto the sink and counter. Both toilet paper rolls were completely rolled out, and it looked like an earthquake hit the room. I just chuckled and said, What in the paranormal activity?

And two of the three cops laughed. A week later I was working that shift again, and arrived at the building to found the apartment was up for rent again. I hope that resident got her deposit back. Case-free, crypted at seven falls. Starting off, this happened nearly ten years ago, but I recently spoke with an old co-worker that I ran into again and talking about the old days, it was brought up, and that's when I realised the feeling of being stalked wasn't limited to me.

When I was about 22 and working for a small security company of only 18 people at the time, We worked a tourism area location called Seven Falls in southwest Colorado Springs. I remember the shifts being grue due mostly to the fact we were mostly in direct sunlight during the afternoon and evening. And an average shift we were expected to walk a minimum of seven miles between the base of the parking area to the top of the falls and rarely were allowed to use the guest elevator for the handicapped and elderly. The whole park was on a hilly incline, so walking the top down was okay. Bottom up is what exhausted us. In the evening near the base of the falls, native tribal dancers were performed, and we had to monitor crowds, which were slight breaks for about 15 to 20 minutes. These falls were frequented by area tribes for hundreds of years, and were still considered spiritual.

So it was the native tribes that pushed for their performance. performances since Seven Falls is considered a state park. At the end of the night we would sit at the main entrance into the falls at the bottom of the canyon off lower Gold Camp Road and monitor the toll booth until roughly 1am, except during weekend and holidays. Then we were out till 3 in the morning. On several occasions when waiting for the end of my shifts, I always had occurrences that made me feel like I was going to be attacked. by either an animal or a person. Gutteral hissing, deep manish groans and harassing growls

could always be heard from behind the giant gate, blowing eyes either red or white in colour, but larger than any of the area wildlife could be seen from behind bushes and tree canopies. But what stuck with me is a shimmer is a shimmering humanoid shape. The shimmering was otherworldly. The way I always described it to my family and few friends was that of like the predator. My first work firearm was an older Smith & Wesson, semi-automatic single-stack pistol that was my dad's when he worked

for the fountain police department. But this was the first time I felt I was defenseless while working. I watched his shimmering silhouettes crawl on the asphalt. over to the Tollbooth, to them what appeared to be it standing upright and extending a long waving arm. This looked like a being phasing between the physical and in corporal realms. As I shifted my weight to look closer, as I was awe-struck. The glowing reddish eyes slowly came back in focus. Then in a snap I hear what sounds like an animal climbing up the side of the tollbooth gutter, and watched that the shimmer jumped to a tree, no less than 20 feet away.

From here the shimmer jumped again. This time a broken branch fell from the tree. A loud crashing sound rang from the top centre in the gate, as the shimmer looked back one last time, before going over the gate and disappearing into the Seven Falls Park. Bring us to today in May of 2022. My old co-worker and I ran into each other while at Walmart. We decided to go to the Gumpford Totty's diner next door. While having a burger and reminiscing about the good old days. He brings up,

Did you ever see the predator in his active camouflage at Seven Falls? My blood ran cold, and I dropped a shade to just about pale. He then proceeded to tell me about his experiences on his shifts that I've never heard. After leaving the diner and arriving home, I sat in the driveway for a moment, contemplating what inhabits lower Gold Camp Road. Case 4. An Elemental in the quarry. At the beginning of August, my security company began providing services for a rock quarry

in town that's on the hillside. These are short shifts that are mind-numbing, mostly due to the current supervisory teams, slacking ass on setting up post orders and protocols. That being says, we have the current standing order of just walk around the area and look for unlawful dumping and homeless camps. Part of the area of this quarry is forested with a heavy rock terrain, which is unfortunately perfect for rattle and bull snakes to nest. So when I check this area, I'm overly cautious.

This small quarry has been on the side of the hill overlooking the interstate. for as long as I can remember. Seems like every couple of years a deceased person was found on the property, either from natural causes, exposure, or suspicious circumstances. It wasn't until a shift that occurred around 3am. I encountered a horrific sight. A week ago I worked an odd shift from 2am to 7am. It was my first time working this site,

and I was already annoyed. I was working the shift earlier that was a standing post-checking IDs for several hours. When a shift supervisor called and stated that I was being sent to the quarry after my current shift, not thrilled.

When I arrived on site I sat in my vehicle for nearly 30 minutes before starting my checks. But when I started, the area was calm. Though parts of the hillside was treacherous to scale without nearly hurting myself. I managed to walk the perimeter in under 20 minutes. Between 2.45 and 3 a.m., the rain that persisted most of the night gave way, and fog began to form.

At 3.15 I began feeling tired, so I decided to conduct another patrol. The fog, densely in areas but light in others, made my pace much slower. As I approached the wooded area, I sensed something, like I was being stalked by something yet unseen. On guard I braced for contact from a possible homeless person, or general trespassing individual, as this fog would be a convenient concealment from being immediately spotted. Dimming my light to its lowest setting to not give away my location, I proceeded forward into this rocky, wooded terrain. Once the faint glow of street lamps and headlights from the interstate faded, I knew I was far enough into the tree line, though it was early morning and still a couple of hours before dawn.

The ambient noises of owls, crows, bats, and other nocturnal creatures fell silent, creating an overwhelming, eerie sense of dread and fear. The further I pushed to reach the perimeter fencing, the thicker and darker the tree line seemed to get, like walking into a long hallway or away from the mouth of a camp. It was just a good version of the Blair Witch movie. But in person, an effigy hanging from a limb of a tree nearly smacked me in the face, and stared confused for several moments. Was this here before? I said out loud, thinking I was alone.

I began raising the setting on my light to see if any fresh footprints could be located in the area. Unsure if I bypassed the item on my first patrol, or if it was fresh, I started scanning the trees and the vases. Though no fresh prints were seen, other items found started to chill up and down my body. Under the tree was an effigy of a decayed, four-legged animal laid out. A circle of stones adorned around like a makeshift altar. Sauge and flowers dried from the day's heat, the dried plant looking as brittle and dead as the exposed bone from the poor animal. With my back turned I heard a truly unnerving sound.

The noise sounded as if a ravenous hog snarled at the same time as an eagle screamed, utterly terrorizing, and almost enough to immobilize. Yet, foolishly, I turned. Standing roughly ten yards away stood a snarled, beastly figure, darting, partially back and forth, from behind a large pine branch. When the light finally met the figure, a disturbing sight was seen, a corpse like twisted, haggard face, stared, snapping and hissing. The skin hanged loosely and was discoloured, like it wasn't napsed. of its own skin, yellow and browned like it had moulded and dried, hands that clawed in a wretch fashion, soulless hollowed eyes that seemed to have reddish dotted pupils, stunned in awe-struck and fear, I stood unable to move or draw my side arm.

The creature craned its head and screeched, causing me to fall back and scramble to find the release of my holster. As my thumb met the paddle to draw my sidearm, a thick mist of fog enveloped the creature, and the horrible noise started to fade. As quickly as the fog consumed the beast, it disappeared into nothingness. Frozen as the rocks and stones strewed around me, I laid on the ground for several seconds, gum pointing at a void in the trees, as I gathered my faculties and composed myself. They used the light on the pistol to look at the ground, to see if any prints were seen. But no prints, no nothing. After this ordeal I didn't finish walking the perimeter, but instead made a direct trip back to my car,

after several cigarettes I placed a call to the police and stated that I think people were on site to vandalising the quarry. After what felt like our but in real time was 17 minutes. Two officers arrived, one being a canine unit. After a short interaction, they started into the property and poked around for a while, while I sat in my car blankly staring at the roadway, watching the traffic. Two more PD officers pull up. When they parked, I stood up and asked what was going on. One of the two new officers on property pulled me aside and stated that they found what appeared to be some sort of ritual pit and several dismembered animals in the trees. So an investigation

was going to be done. I told the officer I found a decayed animal corpse and then proceeded to tell him of the creature. With a mocking and bellowing laugh, the officer responds with, you watch too many horror movies dude. At this point the first two officers return and the dog was whimpering and crying. Dax got spooked, but we're going to call D-O-W to come out and look at the animal bodies to determine if it was a predator or if it was animal cruelty. The first officer asked me some basic questions. Then all four left.

Tonight I'm working the same place until midnight. And so far there hasn't been any feeling of unease or being stalked. I called the officers in the DOW to see if they had finished the investigation at the start of my shift before sunset and they closed it for now as undetermined. So tonight I'm not walking the trees as much. Recently my security company started providing 24-hour services for a recreational marijuana establishment and I worked a handful of evening and overnight shifts here. Early this week being May in Colorado, there was a thick fog resulting from a brief cold spring rain earlier that night.

On this night I was working, midnight to 8am, and the aerial was relatively void of vehicle traffic or foot traffic. At around 3 in the morning, tired, cold and bored. I walked to the gas station that shares a general proximity to my sight. The fog was rolling in and out, and at times thicker than normal fog patches. The clerk of the gas station, frilled that a non-intoxicated person had come in, began chatting. She was a generally polite lady, just talked a mile a minute, due to her little contact with sober or paying customers.

Since I could see the majority of the property from the front doors of the gas station, I decided to stick around for a few minutes longer and continue our conversation while we smoked a cigarette, and I drank my warm coffee. Between two or three long dry drags of my cigarette, the sheet of fog rolled down the hill, as well as the highway. Both fog clouds ended up clashing in the street in front of both properties. The fog danced heavily back and forth in the street for several minutes. At times the opposite side of the street was vanished behind the thick grey mist, with quick,

broken brakes where flashes of the opposite side of the street became visible. Nearly finished with my cigarette, the gas station clerk and I saw the crosswalk signal change on our side, unable to see whom was coming. We paid little attention. Halfway through the light cycle when the flashing hand signalling began. We saw a rough outline of a person, but nearly no features. By nearly no features, I mean we saw a head with a face that was heavily shadowed from the street light and shoulders. With no warning the street light changed, changed, like there was never anyone who pressed the crosswalk button, and just cycled normally as it does every so often. Still in the street, standing in the middle of the eastbound through

lane, closest to our curve, the figure stopped and froze, thinking it may have been a narcotics user, the frequency area, was possibly tripping, and he yelled out, get out of the street, bud. As the last syllable left my lips, a blaring horn from a semi ringing out from just up the street. The driver, with little time to react, began standing on his break in the hope he would stop in time. The clerk beside me began screaming, as I threw my nearly empty drink to the ground and ran towards the street. Panic rang from the driver and clerk, not being able to think between both hollering. The road is wet, I couldn't stop in enough time.

Please tell me he's okay. The driver began shouting, as the clerk was repeatedly yelling, I called 911. I quickly pulled my flashlight from my belt and began searching for what I assumed would have been a mangled corpse. But to my dismay, no person was anywhere around or on. the semi. I then began shining on the grill, scanning every inch, there was no damage, no blood, no body. The driver now collected, yet also confused, asked, you saw me hit someone too, didn't you? Scanning both sides of the street at this point for anyone. I replied, I thought I did. The police and fire showed up shortly after, as the police and fire station for this town is very close by.

After both sets of first responders searching around, the fog just disappeared. The tyre marked from the semi-truck could be seen clearly, but no blood, no person, no nothing. Angry, the police then began lecturing the gas station clerk about false reporting. But being a small town would this happen. the responding cops knew her well. At this time I stepped in, asserting into the conversation, stating that we both saw the person standing in the street, but we couldn't see them well due to the thick fog.

Since all three stories matched, the police and fire units left, but still thinking it was a sick joke, issued us a warning. The next night I worked the same shift, but it was more raining than foggy and misty. Just around 1.30 a.m., when I was up and walking around the building, a nighttime supervisor with the local police stopped at the gas station. This isn't uncommon, as it's the only gas station in that town open overnight, but within

a few minutes I hear the clerk yell from her front doors. Dan, come here quickly. I walked over to find the police shift supervisor, leaning on the counter. You were here last night when the truck supposedly hit someone, right? asked. Yes sir. I was standing out front when we thought we saw someone get hit. With a quick flick of his wrist, gesturing to come over, he began playing a video clip on his work phone. This is the intersection camera from 15 minutes before we arrived for the nine-more-mong-call. Interested I leaned in. The camera showed a figure, barely visible from the fog.

walking down off the highway ramp, just a little ways up from the crosswalk. It took about two minutes for the undefined silhouette to reach the crosswalk. Without it looking, the figure even pressed the button. The crosswalk light began to show walk. As the figure began into the street on the westbound side, the camera blanks. The officer then turned up the play screen speed. After about seven minutes of black screen time lapsed, the picture reappeared with the truck stopped in the street and my flashlight seen shining under the vehicle when the emergency lights came into view. The officer then stopped the video. We watched a clip several times. We can't explain why the

feed cut out for so long like it did, but we are sure that you two thought you may have seen someone get hit by a truck. The officer said in the first a firm voice. He then followed. The driver claimed he was exhausted and pulling off the highway for the night. After you and him examined his truck, he thinks that the thud he heard may have been something minute and just let his mind run wild. After talking for several more minutes, I left and went back to my car. I sat there staring at the crosswalk and listened to the rain hit the roof. Did we actually see a person walk into the crosswalk? Or, or the did a phantom across that road.

I hope you enjoyed these stories so far. If you have your own paranormal experience you'd like to share, then do get in touch. You can find my email in the description. But for now, let's get into the rest of our encounters this evening. Here's a little background context. So this past Thanksgiving was hard for my family. It was the first Thanksgiving without my biological grandmother. I called her Nana.

Her life partner is my other grandmother, who I call Nanny. So now that I got that out the way, on Thanksgiving night, me, Nanny, and my half-brother were sitting in the living room, reminiscing on past thanksgivings that we'd spent with Nanna when we heard something full in the master bedroom. Annie had closed the door to keep the dogs out of there, so no one and nothing was in there. We brushed it off and decided to put on the movie, and we were watching it, when we heard voices coming from the room. We paused the movie to listen.

We couldn't quite make out what they were saying. We assumed it was just the neighbours, and we're only about to continue the movie, and we heard a voice call out for Nanny, in my Nanna's voice. Only it wasn't her. We all knew it. Again she called out. This time for me, this time the tone of her voice was urgent. Like she was hurting.

Help me, we heard her cry. My older brother, who's never really encountered, or cared for the supernatural, was shaking. He tried to get up when Nanny. shouted. Something she's never done. Don't open that door. Again we heard my Nana crying while pounding on the door. When at 11.52 p.m., it was quiet. That was the time she died. Till this day we haven't spoke of what happened. Nanny had me sage the entire house the next day. A little backstory on my Maymore. She was in the sixth grade when she

left school to go to work cleaning, basically a maid, for a rich family that lived in Williamson. She was raised hard, but was the best woman I've ever known. She instilled in me honesty, work ethic, and many other wonderful things. She left me in 2016, and I miss her. Here's a little piece of her and other mountain peoples for you. This story was told in our family. when I was growing up. It used to scare me so bad. Anyway, my Maymore swore it was the truth, and she was not known to tell lies, and I should know because it was just me and her when I was growing up. Anyway, she was born and raised in a very rural and poor area of West Virginia. Her and her seven or eight brothers and sisters were very poor, because of this, and because it was what many country people did,

Her father raised the garden. Now my mammaur nearly idolized her father and would go with him the distance from their house to the garden spot. This required that they push a wagon with wooden wheels past their neighbour's house. My mamor was terrified of the old woman that lived beside them. Mammaud said she called her Aunt Kate. She was older and apparently had cataracts because Mammaul said her eyes were white. Mamma said this particular summer was extremely hot, and that she and her father had spent a good bit of time at the garden, tending the vegetables and picking what was ready.

As they pushed this big wagon up and in front of Aunt Kate's house, the old woman came out and yelled, Harrison, that's my great-grandfather's name. Give me some of them beans you got there. My great-grandfather responded. Kate, we worked hard for them beans, and we ain't giving them away. The old woman laughed, and said they would regret their decision. The two proceeded up the hill to their home, and went about chores and other required duties. Mamor said that she thought nothing more of it, until it was time to sleep. According to my Mamor with so many kids, some shared the bed and some on the floor, where they slept with minimal coverings.

Mamor said she was drifting off to sleep. When she heard someone, or something, walked towards the room where she was sleeping. Knowing the sounds of the home, she did not recognise who or what it could be. Mamma always talked about how her father would tell them stories to scare them into being good. Due to this, she was very easily scared.

As the walking got closer, she reported covering her head and laying still, terrified of who or what, was standing in the doorway. Mamma reported that whatever it was would turn and walk out of the room and back down the hallway all night long. Mamma said she lay there all night, terrified and scared to take her head out from under the blankets. The next morning as the sun arose, the thing started. She stated that she then heard the familiar sound of her father, moving quickly to dress. Once she bolstered enough bravery, she immediately darted down the hallway and into the kitchen, where her father was placing green beans into a sack.

The two did not speak, walked quickly out of the door, and down the hill to Aunt Kate's house, with the sack full of beans. Mamor said, old Aunt Kate, was already out. was already out, sitting on her porch, as if waiting for them to arrive. Her father said, Old woman, take your burger back, which is an appellation term for spirit or demon, and Aunt Kate started laughing and telling them,

Don't worry, Harrison, it won't bother you no more. Mamor told other things that Aunt Kate did, that alluded to her being someone familiar with the darkest, Mammle was a very honest Christian lady, like I had to go to church every time the doors were open. And I never remember a time when I caught her in a lie, or even heard her curse, and she swore. Before I moved to London, I used to live in a 1950s built house in Hampshire, UK. My parents had purchased it in 1999 from an old couple who had lived in it since it was built, so no one had died in it. one had died in it. The first strange thing that happened was the cats wouldn't stay in

the house. They would always bolt out for some reason. After my parents started renovating, my brother and I started to feel like we were being watched in the house and at night in the living room. You would always feel like something was watching you through the new glass doors from the hallway or the stairs. After a while, if we We were sitting downstairs, we started to hear footsteps moving from my bedroom in the room above. Walk into my brother's neighbouring room, then across the landing to the hallway to my parents' room. My parents both dismissed it as the pipes calling on the floorboard settling. But you could distinctly tell exactly what boards the footsteps were treading on.

At one point friends came over. I was alone and as you walked down the street you could see into our living room. They asked if I had relatives staying as they had seen people sitting on the sofa. Things started to move. You'd place shoes by the door and then it'd be under the stairs. Or things like keys would be moved somewhere else. Then it gets really creepy. One day I'd run a bath and was listening to music on the computer and the study in the next room.

It had been a while and the music had stopped as the PC had gone in the standby mode. I'd been in the bar for about an hour and fell asleep, and as the water had just gone past my nose. The music on the PC shot back on louder and woke me up. Bearing in mind in those days you had to mash the keyboard or really jiggle the mouse to wake up the computer. Saving me from potentially drowning. I took this to be whatever was in the house wasn't bad. However, a few weeks later, I woke up bolt upright, like something had woken me up. It was at around 2am.

My door was open onto the landing, and it was a bright full moon night, shining through the hallway onto the brick landing. I looked into my terror. I saw an old man. But he wasn't standing up. It was like he was laying down on the stairs, and his head was up. head was at foot height, staring around the landing wall, directly at me. The moonlight was on his face. It haunts me to this day. I closed the door and slept with my light on for the

rest of the night. My parents sold the house in 2004 when they moved to New Zealand. And when I spoke to my dad about it later, he said he knew something was in the house. It hadn't wanted to scale my brother and I. He'd had his own experiences. He'd heard the same footsteps on the floorboards, and in the mornings when he'd get up and make tea for mum, he'd hear footsteps behind him in the kitchen, walking towards him, something rushing past him, and the taps would turn on by themselves. Years later when I told him about the old man I'd seen, he said on a few occasions he'd be in a lounge at night and in the reflection of his reading glasses he could see the exact same man sitting in the armchair behind him my dad is a

massive skeptic policeman back in the day and a no-nonsense project director apparently he was so freaked out he went to the public records office to see what our house had been built on the area had been made up of old mansion estates back in Victorian times, and it looked like our kitchen had been built over a pathway leading from the old big house to an ice house building. He thinks maybe it was the servants, or whoever walked our path, very spooky. Irish folklore is littered with mysterious and terrifying creatures, the kind that sounds so unbelievable that the people speak of with such conviction.

that you can't help but wonder if there must be a layer of truth buried in there. Old people in particular still hold a belief of the fairy folk and law of ancient island. Before she passed away, my grandmother would have us sat down in her cottage and filled its walls with the tales of all kinds of spirits from silently watchful black hounds to the kelpie, a water horse that would seduce you into riding it, before darting into the depths of a lake and galloping into its murky depths. When my parents would collect us, mum would scow when she found out about the ghost story session, knowing that neither my brother nor I would be getting much sleep that night.

Nevertheless, I cherish these fireplace memories, as they take me back to a simpler time, when the dark winter evenings would be filled with life in the form of Granny's lilting-aged voice. My favourite of these creatures, or least favourite, I suppose, given the endless amounts of nightmares it implanted into my mind as a child, was the Banchie. A spirit tied to particular families. Legend has it that she appears in different forms, but tends to favour that of either a beautiful but distraught woman, or of a hunched, ailing old washerwoman, if it appeared by sight at all.

It is even more distinct, you see, like its unearthly cry. Its wails and weeps would fill her room, or would be audible from miles away across the countryside. The person who crosses path with the banshee or its cry should quickly alert the family, as this is a signal that someone from the family has died, or is set to die. Yes, the banshee is an omen of death. As I grew older, I became cynical to the tales my grandmother had spouted, including that of the banchi.

I moved to the city for university at 18, and in immersing myself with life in the modern world, the ways of country life seemed to evaporate. A small-scale reflection of the increasingly modernised world, I guess. Sad when you think about it. Isn't it? That was until one particular summer. My parents had recently downsized to a small cottage deep in the barren Irish west. where the roar of city life was inaudible.

I stayed with my parents for the month of July and spent long, languid days roaming their nearby fields and looking out for signs of wildlife, such as the foxes that roamed late at dusk, or the bats that flew low along the lanes, which were laden with sprawling plant life. My story begins, I suppose, in the second week of my stay. I had taken to going for twilight,

walks, making the most of our northern sun, which can see daylight lasting until close to 11 p.m. I was some miles away from the house, but could sense darkness approaching, and decided to make my way home. Nighttime in that part of the country is utterly dark, and not something you want to find yourself swallowed by. It was, as I was walking back, that I heard it. The most startling, biting cry. It seemed to feel the world around me as though echoing against stone walls, even though I was surrounded by open nature. I can try to describe it by saying that it was on one hand the sound of a woman in sharp pain, but equally that of a grieving mother, sobbing at the loss of her child. I was momentarily hard.

horrified. In one moment it seemed that all of my cynicism was laid to rest, and that I should run home without question what sort of horrific creature was capable of producing a sound like this. However, I then tried to apply logic. After all, can't foxes make the most spine-tingling noises when they're distressed, or even in heat, there had to be a purely natural explanation to this. In spite of how undisputably unconstruedly unnatural it sounded. Whatever it was I didn't want to stick around to find out. I would run home, I decided, and alert my parents, just in case someone was genuinely in distress or harm. I began to pick up my pace, breaking into a jog. Something in the preferee of my vision

brought me to a sharp and sudden stop. To my left was Bogland, an area I had been warned never to walking, as it would be all too easy to sink into the wet ground and become stuck, or even suffocate. It was shocking to me, therefore, that in the midst of this bogland stood a woman, long, silvery blonde hair twisting in the evening breeze. The relative distance and encroaching darkness made it hard to make her out entirely, but she looked to be in her early to mid-twenties, my age, and her face was contorted, in what looked like either pain or horror, was from her mouth I realised that the bone-chilling screams were

emerging. Initially I was stunned, this was so adverse to anything I had experienced in this part of the world so far, which seemed so devoid of alarm or drama or consequence. But I shook myself then, and called out to the woman as loudly as I could. Hello, what's wrong, are you stuck? She seemed to register me, small eyes turning in my direction, but there was no response, aside from the continuous screech which now pounded in my head. Hello, I'm going to try to get help, I'll be back as soon as I can. With that, I ripped my eyes from the woman and darted back to the house as quickly as I could.

I was around a mile away, but the phone signal was limited in that part of the country, and I knew I needed to get home in order to do something to assist the woman. It would have been a risked my own life to have walked across the bogland towards her. When I got home, my parents' warm faces quickly dropped. to looks of alarm upon registering me. What is it? You look as if you've seen a ghost. I quickly filled them in and what I'd seen. And they sprung into action, grabbing the phone and they lurking the local garter, a police force.

In the meantime, my father and I leapt into the car to make our way back to the spot, whilst my mother waited for the garter to arrive. By car we were there within minutes, and I quickly directed. my father to where I had seen the incident. I pride myself on my sense of direction, and the lane is fairly straightforward, so I was utterly bemused when I realised that there was no woman in sight, nor sound with an earshot, bar the standard noises of the country evening. We scanned the area, but still nothing. When my mother arrived with the constable, he questioned me about where I had seen the woman and raised his eyebrow when I said she was no longer

there. There's no way she could have been submerged in that space of time. You said she was standing fully upright when you saw her here, right? That's right. She was a bit of a distance away, but it didn't look like her legs were submerged at all. It was the screaming that made me run for help. He nodded. Okay, son.

Thank you. Could you... you, very clearly, tell me once again exactly what you saw. Try not to miss anything out. I did so, relaying the story to him again and trying to interpret his facial reactions as I did so. He remained quite neutral, writing my account onto his notepad. When I finished, he paused, before speaking slowly. Right, I'm going to say that first of, They're given how few people live around here, I and myself can't say that I know anyone fit in that description.

I like to think I know each and everyone around these parts. However, I'm going to file a report and investigate this further. It might be that she got herself free and walked off again. Here he stopped and bit the end of his pen, looking thoughtful, before continuing with some visible discomfort. I want to thank you for alerting me about this. I just want to say, though, before I set off. I've heard cases like this in the past. Figures, women, appearing around the countryside,

and alarming a passerby with their cry. I... Well, again, officially I'm going to handle this, as I'd handle any other case. But I want you to do me a favour. Check in with your family this evening and see how they're doing. It might sound odd, but... Can you do that for me?

Dad looked perplexed at this and seemed like he was going to ask further questions, but mum interjected nodding. Yes, officer, I think I understand you. We'll do that. With that we drove home, the darkness of the land around us was impenetrable. Aside from the light to the car's full beam, it was a moonless night. We didn't need to contact our family members that evening. Well, we got in contact, but what I mean to say is that they reached out first.

My mother's brother-in-law had sent her a message when we'd been out. The message wasn't long, it simply read. Hi Bridgett, tried to contact you when I reply. Please call. When mum got through she was distraught to find out that her sister had passed away that evening. It had been a sudden medical event that nobody had predicted. Aunt Sarah had been living with her husband and family in the USA for years. We saw her biannually most years, but the death shook us up nevertheless.

In the days that followed we sprung into action, assisting with funeral arrangements in whatever way we could, and booking flights to Boston. looking flights to Boston. I didn't voice it to my parents, not wanting to upset them further. But I couldn't help but consider the incident with the woman in the bog, and what the officer had said to us. My logical mind tried its best to protest, but my memory kept tiptoeing back to the stories my grandmother had told me years ago, particularly those of the Banshee. Was it possible that this could have been the extra nation. Was the woman in the field trying to alert me, to warn me about the impending death of my aunt? It took two years for me to bring this up to my mother. I was once again visiting home, and we were drinking tea in the garden. It was yet another summer evening

at twilight, and I was taken back to that night by the bog. I voiced my memories to my mum, and asked her if she remembered what the constable had said. She gazed into her tea cup, sighed and looked up at me slowly. Yes, son. I remember. Do you recall me telling him that I thought I might understand? Yes, Mum, I do. Your dad was ready to question him.

Well, this might sound crazy to you, but I did understand. You see, about three years before that, something similar had happened. I took an intake of breath. She must have seen my eyes widen. Oh no, I didn't see a woman, if that's what you think. But I did hear a cry from within the walls of our old home.

On the evening your granny passed away. As though someone was screaming deep inside the house. Of course the difference is we were prepared that time. We knew it was only a matter of days or hours. I did hear the cry. It terrified me at the time. It was part of the reason we sold up and moved to this cottage. I was dumbstruck.

When I finally found my voice I told her, I hoped that she hadn't come to hate the new house too, following what I had seen two years before. Oh no, she responded. No, I actually think this helped me a great deal with the first occasion, believe it or not. You see, I think maybe it's not a bad thing. thing. She was distressed, you say, when you saw her there, the woman in the bog I mean.

Or perhaps she was just as sad as we were. Perhaps she's just part of the family. I do wonder if anyone has seen or heard her in the past. Your grandmother, well, you remember her stories. I used to grimace when I came home to you and your brother shuddering on her sofa. I still stand by that. She smiled wistfully at me, and she said this, and I was transported back to the corner of the old sofa, but it could be that she knew there was some truth behind what she was saying. Perhaps your grandmother, my mother, had seen our sad friend too.

With that she finished her tea, lifted both cups from the table and walked to the sink, even me filled with thoughts, nostalgia, and an overwhelming sense of closeness to my own family, culture and land, that I hadn't felt before. At another point in time, I longed to own and operate a funeral home. If I had the money, I think I still would. To get a fill for what I wanted, I applied and eventually landed a job as a funeral attendant. I loved this job. The responsibilities of a funeral attendant vary.

You can be working a visitation or service, transferring the deceased to or from hospitals, chapels and churches. You might be the designated limo driver for family and friends, or the coach driver bringing a loved one to their final resting place. What enjoyed and got priding doing most, and what brought me to you today, was managing cremations. I have many stories derived from my time at the funeral home, but only one made me reconsider the possibility of life. After death, this is a true story. She was only 17 when she took her life after a breakup with her boyfriend. I was assigned to her

visitation, drove the limo for her family, and would eventually handle her cremation. Her family was incredibly nice and I think of their daughter every time I have a diet Pepsi, her favourite drink. It was the night of her visitation. The coffee was hot, the cookies were fresh, but most importantly, the Diet Pepsi was cold. The family would begin to arrive around seven that night, filling the entrance and common area with small soft talk and sniffles. You do your best to welcome and make everyone feel comfortable.

Let them settle in for a bit before doing what I always found most difficult. Remind them why a certain set of doors weren't open, and why it's important to only open them when they were ready. I will never forget the screams of her mother seeing her for the first time, or how worried I was that her hair would fall out of place and make visible the scars and bruising that make cup could only do so much to conceal. Her aunt had come by prior to the visitation to bring a scarf. As she cried, she asked, I only use this if absolutely necessary. She said, my niece hung herself with a scarf. Those words still haunt me. When it comes to cremation, the last thing you want to do

is misidentify a body. So once the deceased arrived at the crematory, a unique number is assigned. These numbers are etched onto metal medallion to a hole and attached to steel wire about 10 inches long. Hard to miss in a collection of ash and bone when armed with a heavy-duty magnet. The chapel I worked at had three levels. The crematory, of course, was in the basement, and I was working alone. I remember prepping for her cremation, getting the documents aligned, and ensuring her assigned tag was her. her. It can take one to four hours to cremate an individual. They're longer hindered by whether or not they were cremated in a casket. She was not. Following the cremation, her

remains were called and then relocated to an enclosed, yet small platform, to ensure all metal objects were removed before processing. It only took about 20 seconds before the panic sunk in. I couldn't find it. I couldn't find it. tag was missing. I lifted every bone by hand and gingerly sifted through her remains. I re-swept the chamber and looked high and low in the area to no avail. There was nothing left to do but bite the bullet and call management. Losing one of these tags as a huge disservice to the process of something so sensitive and I felt sick. I went for my cell phone which was on the table beside her remains. It caught my eyes sharply, lying flat on top of her remains was the ten-inch tag. Not an overlap

of bone or ash, nothing. It looked as though it was simply and carefully placed there. To this day I think this young girl was toying with me, perhaps having a bit of fun before our connected time came to a close. Either way it was eerie and something I can never explain. Growing up in a Hispanic household, you hear a lot about the paranormal, and mostly everyone has experienced something. I am no different. My parents brought their own home when I was around three, and ever since I've always felt or witnessed odd things.

There are too many little incidents to bore you with them, but they all have one thing in common, and that is they all happen close by or in the hallway to that home. This event that I want to speak about tonight didn't actually happen there. But instead it happened in my home just last year. My mum passed away in 2020. Since 2001 she had dialysis three times a week at 5am and I was in my 20s and not married and lived with both my parents at the time. I would take her every time to her appointments.

Whenever I did a late shift at work or would sleep in, she would walk to my door and say, I'm ready, we can go. I would get up and drive her. I'm now married with kids of my own and and in my own house. Last year my wife had a scheduled outpatient surgery in the early morning. I was working in another state, but drove home the day before. I got home in the early hours of the morning and told my wife I was going to sleep on the couch for three hours until we had to leave. Her wake-up alarm was about to ring, so with her I was. closed she said okay I was in a deep sleep the three hours flew by like a wink and then I clearly heard my mum say I'm ready we can go I woke up and immediately realized why I'd

heard I hate my wife open the restroom door and she walks over to me and says oh good I was about to wake you till this day I know what I heard and I know that she is still around watching over me. There wasn't so much a scary incident, but definitely unexplained. I moved to a town in Appalachia and ever since I have heard voices calling me into the woods. My parents got divorced when I was 12 and my mum moved us into a small town in the Pennsylvania mountains. After a few months of living there, I went back to live with my dad in Texas. Ever since then though, I have heard I heard the voices of people I know, calling me into the woods. It's been almost eight years now.

It's only when I'm alone, but not every time I'm alone. It seems to only happen in Texas. It's weird but I never even considered that this was maybe something to be concerned about, until recently. It was just something that happened. I even followed the voice once, and only thought it was kind of weird that I'd heard my dad screaming for me. He didn't actually call me. call me because I got home later and asked him about it. I don't know if this is related or not, but remembering it is what sparked this post.

A few years later I was about a mile out in the woods in Pennsylvania when I zoned out for a minute. When I zoned back in, I heard a stick snap and looked over to see a white-tailed doe staring at me from about ten-ish feet away. It looked almost as though it had been trying to sneak closer to me. when I looked at it. I just sort of backed away from it and went back down the mountain. I'm not entirely sure what to make of this now,

that I'm looking back on it all. The times that I just sort of brushed it all off as normal. So a little background on myself. I'm a 20-year-old female college student on break for the holidays. My parents took a short four-day trip out of town. So me and my sister, I was 18, got stuck. got stuck on dog sitting duty. We have three Cavalier King Charles Spaniel dogs, two females and one male, all in between

the ages of one to two. The male named cheese has an obsession with these rubber balls. Some background on this dog cheese. His behaviour could be described as erratic and hyper. He is the type of dog to chase shadows, lights, flies, obsessively lick us and just has always been a little more stranger than our other two dogs. In other words, he is very obsessive erratic behaviour. One of his obsessions is a specific type of rubber ball that he loves to squeeze in his mouth,

as it makes a squeaking sound. It is the only toy he has that he is majorly obsessed with. We have brought him a handful of these balls because they go missing occasionally, roll under furniture or get lost outside. After a certain amount of time we put the balls up in a designated spot, a flower pot up on the mantel in cheeses view, because if not he would literally chew on this ball all night or tear up the couch looking for it if he does not see us put this ball away in the flower pot. This particular weekend he has had the same ball the whole time because we have kept it near for when he decides he wants it, or up in

the flower pot for us to easily find when it's time to be. play. Typically the ball will roll under the couch in the living room multiple times while he's playing. We go through the same routine where he scratches at the floor to let us know the ball has rolled underneath. We are able to get the ball with a designated back scratcher. It is a long arm that extends, that we used to specifically to recover his balls that have rolled under something. In addition we use a flashlight to see the ball because it is a dark area under the couch. For weekend my sister and I have been retrieving this ball for him, as it is a normal occurrence in our house that the ball will roll under the couch. However, we only saw this single ball every time we went to retrieve it from under the couch.

There were no other balls under the couch. We had not seen any of his other balls the entire weekend, just the one he had been playing with. The other handful of balls were unaccounted for. Last night, my sister and I had put on a movie for the night around 9pm, around Around an hour and a half into the movie, I look over and cheese is acting, not like himself. He's acting extremely calm, too calm for his normal loratic behaviour. Cutting the movie short, I carried him outside to go potty, and just cuddled him all night because I knew the poor guy wasn't feeling good.

I knew he just needed to sleep it off. Like I said, his ball is his favourite toy, so I took the ball and put it next to him as he slept, just to give him more comfort. I turned off the lights in the house and cleaned up the living room and headed to bed with him and the two other girl dogs. We were completely normal by the way. Cheese was the only one acting different. They are very attached dogs,

so the girls sleep under the covers by my feet and didn't move positions all night as I do wake up during my sleep a few times occasionally and can feel them still there. I would also check on cheese. He also check on cheese and he stayed put in the same position with his ball next to him all night. Now this is the unexplainable part. When I wake up, cheese is completely back to his normal erratic self.

I get up, grab his ball and put it in my hoodie pocket to give to him after he's finished breakfast. He won't eat his food if he sees his ball. I walk out to the living room and on the floor right next to the couch there are three of his balls in a triangle formation, sitting there. Remember, I was the last person in the living room last night after tidying it up, and there was nothing there. I go to my sister's room to ask her. Hey, did you find three of cheese's balls and put next to the couch last night? She responds, um, no. We were the only two people in this house. So who found the extra balls?

And why were they all gathered next to each other? I knew it couldn't have been one of the dogs because they were with me all night. Keep in mind there were no extra balls under the couch. These balls were unaccounted for all weekend. So now I have four of these balls including the one he had all weekend. Where did these extra balls come from? Who placed them there? I haven't seen another ball in days.

I keep racking my mind, trying to figure it. of a logical answer, but I cannot. It is truly unexplainable and I'm creeped out. The first strange experience I remember happened in 1974. When I was six, almost seven. I lived in Somerset, South West England. My primary school had arranged a day trip to visit Longleet House, Wiltshire. My mum came along as an extra helper or chaperone to assist out the teacher.

Longleet House is beautiful. an Elizabethan property in large grounds. There is a safari park so you can drive through and see all sorts of animals. During the tour of the house, Mum noticed I appeared to be watching something that she couldn't see. She asked me what I was looking at, and I said, The Pretty Lady in the grey dress. Mum couldn't see anyone, and no one had been walking through where I was looking. At the end of the tour, mum, asked one of the tour guides about what I'd said. Evidently some people have seen what they refer to as the grey lady. It is thought to be the previous Lady Bath. Thankfully mum was and

still is very accepting of strange things due to my nan seeing things too. Therefore I was never made to feel different or stupid. That lady I saw was as clear and real as anyone else in that room and I still remember her to this day. almost 50 years later. A few years after that experience at Longley House, this happened. I was very close to my maternal grandmother and stayed with her at weekends very often. She lived a few miles from us in a little village called Buckland-Dyrn. It is not too far away from Frum, South West England. I've never met my grandfather, as he died a few months before I was born, but I visited his grave in the village church with Nan quite regularly. The church is from the

12th century, with some newer add-ons. It's a beautiful, small village church, and very peaceful. One time, I would have been around nine or ten, I had gone for a little walk around the graveyard. There was a second large area of graves, and as I walked through into it, I saw a little girl. She was about seven or eight, and had mid-brown hair, slightly curled down to her shoulders. She was wearing a pretty cream-coloured dress with a ribbon sash around the waist and tied in a bow at the back. She was wearing buckled shoes and white ankle socks. She walked from a memorial and then behind a gravestone and was gone.

No sign of her. We went to look around together and there was no sign of her. A part of that area of the graveyard was called Tragedy Graveyard. corner by the locals as it's where several babies and young children were buried. Another one happened more recently. It was during COVID and I had driven to the local shop. I now live on the Shropshire border. I parked in a little car park and was going to go get some cash. The car park is a rectangular shape and I had reversed into the space I was facing the shop. As I got out of the car I saw an elderly man wearing a tweed jacket and I had a

cap, using a walking stick, walking quite slowly from my right towards the shop. He was about ten metres from me. I said good morning to him, and he smiled and replied the same. I walked up to the cash point and could hear him walking slowly towards me. I could hear the stones crunch under his feet, and the sound of his stick. He stopped about two and a half meters behind me, so I assumed he was waiting to get cash too. I got my money and as I turned around, I said, I won't hold you up any longer, just to be polite. But there was no one there. No sign at all. There was nowhere he could have gone. He would have had to walk past me to go into the shop, but the door was just a couple of metres to my right and no one had passed. A very weird one,

but he was very real. I was called by a lady who swore that her cat was possessed. I was incredibly skeptical, but very curious. According to the lady, her cat would suddenly start screaming at the top of its lungs. It would do this crazy-looking slow-motion walk while tilting its head at weird angles. If she tried to approach it when it did these things, it would lash out at her with its claws. After having one of these spells it would hide, but not relax, its tail would swing wildly, and it would grow to itself for up to an hour. As strange as all of this sounded, I spoke to one of my teammates who was very sensitive. After hearing the story, she insisted that we investigate.

We arrived at the residence at around 4.30pm. The lady gave us a tour of the house and introduced us to the cat. It was a standard 3 by 2 ranch style home, and we found nothing creepy about it. The cat was cool, very affectionate and really took to my fellow investigator. She spent a couple of hours alone with the cat while I got the paperwork and formalities done with the lady. She invited us to investigate the home that night and she had a date. Then she worked the 11pm to 7am shift at the local hospital. She left her date around 7.30pm and we began our formal investigation.

We move room to room asking questions in hope for an EVP. or at least a knock in response to a question. We had no activity until at 11.30 p.m., the cat started screaming in the master bedroom. Upon entering the doorway, my partner grabbed my shoulder, stopping me, and motioning finger-to-lip for me to be quiet and listen. It was hard with the cat screams. They made my hair stand on end. As we watched and listened, a shadow began to form. the corner of the room. There was a whisper coming from the shadow

that was not recorded by our DVRs and we could not understand what it said. The cat was irate, scared and ready to fight. So we witnessed the claims of the lady firsthand and they were exactly as she had described. My partner spoke very calmly to the shadow saying,

you were scaring the cat. I don't think you mean to. So if you leave this room and go into the bedroom across the hall, we will help you. We turned and entered the smaller bedroom and sat quietly on the bed, waiting to see what would happen. A few moments later my partner grabbed my arm and pointed at the doorway in the spare bathroom shared by the two smaller bedrooms. I could clearly see a humanoid shape with no features, but it was blacker than in the dark.

His teammate and I have worked together many times and had a routine that we followed. I told the entity that everything was okay. The cat's calm now and we want to know how we can help. Slowly move through the doorway and slightly into the room. At that point I heard through my DVR the word, Kitty. While recording I always plug in an earpiece so I can hear what is being recorded in real time. I asked if it was trying to pet the kitty. It stretched out his arm, pointing toward the master bedroom, where the cat was.

I asked if it wanted to hurt the kitty, and almost immediately heard a sigh and whimper. I asked again if it wanted to hurt the kitty, and stated that in order for us to help, it needed to answer. My partner told me a minute later, that it answered. She sensed that it indicated that it only wanted to answer. to pet the cat. She also sensed that this was the spirit to an adolescent male and she thought that in life he had some type of developmental issue. While we spoke the entity seemed to sway slightly back and forth but it did not go anywhere. It seemed that it was listening to our

conversation. I once again spoke to it saying that it had scared the cat and if it wanted to pet it and it would have to make friends with it. I explained that if it would just sit still and speak to the cat, that it would learn that you don't want to hurt it. Eventually the cat will come to you and let you pet it. A moment later the cat appeared in the hallway doorway and sat down calmly. No one spoke or even moved, including the spirit. A few moments later the cat joined us on the bed. I spoke to it calmly and My partner scratched its neck and head. As I looked back up from the cat at the spirit, I noticed it was gone.

We experienced nothing else that night and locked up the house and left. Two days later, my teammate called me very excited. She had researched the property and found that a young man who had Down syndrome had died on the property when he had fallen out of a tree house. I gathered our evidence and met the lady the following day. I played her all of the recordings of us talking to the spirit, for that she would understand exactly what happened. When she heard me tell the spirit how to make friends with the cat, she began to cry.

She told us that only that morning. Cat was in the bed in the smaller bedroom. It was purring, very loud, and moving its head like someone was scratching it. For context, I am a native of a South East Asian country that tends to be superstitious and generally has higher paranormal activity due to our history. When I was younger, I was more sensitive towards the paranormal and was able to see what I now know as, shadow people. I have had two notable instances with them. One was when my mum and I were coming home late after a night out.

She drove into the high-rise car park building when I saw what looked like a shadow, vaguely shaped like a man, lurking near one of the other cars. It did not have any defined features, although it was tall as an adult man. The shadow figure did not come near us. However, it followed my mum and I from a distance, all the way back to our house. That was my first time encountering such a thing, and it did not tell me. tell my mum immediately, although she sensed my fear. I thought that we would lose it on the way home and did not want to scare her. However, it followed us right into our apartment. The next few days I would see the shadow figure peeking at me from around coolness, standing in doorways,

and generally just loitering around my house. Although it did not come near me or give me nightmares, Its presence made me uncomfortable, and I eventually told my parents what happened. Thankfully, they knew someone who came to our house to get rid of it. Before leaving, the person hammered a used horseshoe above our front door, as according to them, it would help to ward off spirits and entities. Honestly, I was sceptical of it, but was grateful that the shadow figure was no longer around me. This is where my second notable encounter of a shadow figure comes into play. Late at night after a new year's celebration, my parents and I were driving home after a family reunion.

We were carrying leftovers and uncooked meat from the party and intended to store it. Once again as we reached a car park, I saw a shadow figure, this time near the stairs. As we did not go near it, I hoped we could avoid it. Unfortunately, as we got out of the car, the shadow figure came towards us and felt more threatening than my first encounter. My guess is that it was attracted to the meat smell. Once again it followed us all the way to our house. However, as I neared my front door it slowed down.

It did not pass through my gate like before. Instead I saw it head towards my neighbour's door and passed right. through it. Shocked, I told my parents what I saw, and we went to bed feeling unsettled. The next day my mum spoke to our neighbour that the shadow person targeted. We learnt that their baby, who usually sleeps relatively well, was restless that night and was crying. My mum relayed the events that happened, and from what I know, they got their house blessed. It's been years and I have moved houses since those incidents. Despite that, I have a horseshoe above my door,

as I literally saw its effects regarding spiritual safety. I have not had any entities in my house ever since. I hope this helps anyone, going through something similar. So I'm looking for a bit of advice. To clarify, I work in the laundry room of a nursing home in my town that was built some time in the 1940s. think. I was a replacement for my best friend's grandmother. My best friend's aunt is my boss. I started having experiences when I was done with my training and was left alone to do my job.

It started out with small things. I like to keep the doors to the washer and dryer room closed because I don't like having distractions, so I was completely closed off from everybody. People leave me alone, so I know it wasn't anybody messing with me. It started out with me. It started out with standing in the dryer room, folding sheets or something. And I saw someone walk across the washer room, but I would have heard the door open. I looked up and nobody was there. Another time I was in the washer room, the two were connected by a door we keep open, and the door to the dryer room just opened on its own, and then slammed shut. I ran to the room and pulled the door open, and looked to my right into the maintenance room, where extra

furniture, old clothes, my manager's desk, housekeeping carts and other suppliers are kept. There was nobody in there. There was also nobody on the other side of the hall leading out to the halls where the residents live. It couldn't have been the residents messing with me, because you have to put in a five-digit code to open the door to the back, where the break room, kitchen, maintenance room and lawn. rooms were, all the other housekeeping and kitchen staff had gone home for the night. Things started to escalate, and the ghost would mess with the machines in the laundry rooms. It would make the dryers turn off, and it would affect the washers they wouldn't start. We have issues with them anyway since they're old, but I'd talk out loud and ask the ghost

to please stop messing with my machines, and they'd suddenly go back to normal. I quickly found out that if I said hi to the ghost, who I've affectionately named Gail, when I first walked in, they'll leave my machines alone. But if I forgot, a ton of different things happened. I don't sense any malicious intent from Gail, which is a relief since I've had a lot of malicious ghosts that went after me in houses I used to live in when I was a child. Gail hasn't tried to follow me home, and I'm okay with them hanging around. I don't know their gender or their actual name.

They don't seem to mind the name I chose for them, and I'll talk out loud to them, because I get their feeling they're just lonely. I told them I'm perfectly okay if they hang around. Sometimes they get playful and will do things to scare me, and I just let them know they're freaking me out and ask them to stop. And they will. Just today I stayed late at work to finish up some closing stuff, and my back was really hurting, so I lay down on the floor to pop my back and allow my back to rest for a minute.

I looked up at the ceiling, and from behind my head I can see the figure of someone standing over me, but it was gone when I looked. I just told Gail that I was okay and that my back was just hurting. They don't normally get that close to me. One time a couple of weeks ago, Gail got mad that I didn't say hi to them. They shoved my laundry cart across the room when I wasn't even near it. The giraffe and the vent wouldn't be strong enough to push those carts. I guess the advice I'm asking for is how to figure out Gail's real name and gender, without

involving a Ouija board or anything similar. like that, I personally don't like using them, since paranormal activity has always been prevalent in my life. I've been scratched and bruised, had things thrown across the room at me, and had the life scared out of me by ghosts in the past. Gail hasn't done anything to physically harm me, and he just seems to play small pranks. They seem to like it when I talk to them, but I want know their real name and gender. I don't know how to go about it. Any advice would be extremely helpful and I appreciate any of you guys are willing to give. Thanks in advance. When my mother was a little girl, she spent her early years in the remote area of Mexico. No electricity,

no running water and definitely no air conditioning. Due to so many people were living in one small house. It wasn't uncommon for her and a few of her siblings to sleep on the porch. Yes, you heard that right. They slept on pallets outside. She recalls it was actually much cooler some nights on the porch than it was in the house. The porch had a screen that my grandfather installed, and he also built their house by his own hand. The closest neighbour was miles away,

so from my understanding, the house was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Now this is where the ghost story begins. My mum and three of her other siblings were the lucky ones who got to sleep outside every night. They never had any problems or fears until the night the baker boy began to come around. A small child with golden curls dressed in white baking attire, wearing a mask that was a real skinned pig. He would walk in circles around the house, reciting a certain phrase that my mum never really understood, because it wasn't in Spanish or English. At first they were scared, but over time they grew to appreciate his presence.

It was almost as if he were walking around the house to protect them from whatever fate had maybe happened to him. They never knew who he was, or if he was even real, just that they would all see him. My grandpa never believed them, and assumed they were all making it up to come inside the house, but they swore they weren't. It wasn't until, over time, an outline of his path began to show up around the house. Nearly as to say, they didn't stay in that house much longer, and moved before they eventually made it to the States.

The strangest part is that before my grandpa died, he told my mum he had finally seen him. The blonde boy with the pig mask. I will start with a little background. I grew up as an only child. My parents had my sister when I was 11. Before she was born, my dad rebuilt our bungalow into a huge two-story house. Hence no one had died in my new bedroom. Now onto my experiences.

The ages are round estimates. I'm mid-twenties now, but when I was around seven, I started getting nightmares about the concept of death. I would wake in the middle of the night crying for weeks on end, and then it would stop for a while before starting again. By the age of about ten, this developed into a feeling of being watched, being unable to sleep, being convinced that something, not someone, something, was watching me from a specific corner of my room, my new room, the one my dad built. My dad eventually ripped that section

of wall out to show me that there was a space there. I don't remember why, but there was a space all the way around the upstairs. He tried to turn it into a fun den area for me, but I hated it, and I wouldn't go in there. This continued when I was about 12 and I got my first smartphone. The iPhone was my dad's old one, but it worked fine. That was until it got dark outside and the phone would start typing random letters when I was texting someone or typing. This only ever happened in my bedroom. As soon as I went out the room, it stopped. I told my dad and he said it must be damaged. He bought me a new one for my 13th.

He believes in ghosts but couldn't explain what was happening in that room he built. The new phone did the same thing. I thought I was going mad. I bought some spell candles from a witchcraft museum when we went on holiday. I was around 14. I used them to politely ask whoever or whatever was there to please leave the house peacefully. This worked and I was perfectly okay in that room again.

I slept fine and my phones were all fine as I upgraded and got new ones. I moved out when I was 20. I went to visit my parents and stayed the night in my old room. Whatever was there when I was a child is back there. The same corner, the same feeling, the same dark energy. The same creature, except now I have an image of it, burnt into my memory, despite never actually seeing it. It's a dark creature. It is some type of human shape, but very muscular, and it crawls around in all fours,

legs bent behind it. Almost wolfish, but without a snout. It snarls and glares, dark red eyes with big black pupils. It has horns as well. Big horns, curved back over its head. There's some type of red tinge to it, but I can't identify where it comes from. There you go, that's my story. Believe me or don't, it doesn't matter to me.

I don't go in that room anymore when I see my parents. Not even in the daytime. I rented a haunted house in El Paso, Texas. Back in 2011, I was living in a house in El Paso, Texas, for a year with my two sons. It was a nice place with a huge backyard for our dogs and three bedrooms, two dens and a two-car garage. Great place for the price I was renting it. The landlord lived across the street from me, so he was always close by if needed.

Shortly after moving in, a matter of weeks, I was in my bedroom watching TV and unwinding from a long day. I was unemployed at the time and had received severance check from my ex-employer and was living off of that while I was job searching. My bedroom was right across the hall from my youngest son's bedroom, and my older son had his bedroom next to mine, as he was disabled, and there were a little bit more. times I would have to get up in the middle of the night if he needed to use the bathroom. Late that night I heard singing coming through the AC vents and assumed it was my son's girlfriend

who had just moved in with us and had a great singing voice. I chalked it up to that and told myself that I would speak to my son about it in the morning. The following morning I asked my son about it with his girlfriend there and he told me that he thought the singing was coming from my room. They thought maybe I was watching something on TV and just turned up theirs to block out the song. Weird. This house was an older house built in 1959 and built in an L shape with one side of the L having bedrooms and bathrooms and the other side had the den, dining room and kitchen. Another room that could be users an office or spare bedroom and it ended with the garage. All doors and windows

had wrought iron. It started that when we would leave the house we would lock the Ralt iron door going into the house from the garage and many times upon our return the door would be unlocked. The same happened when we were in the house. The door would remain unlocked while we were all inside the house but many times when I would have to go out to the garage, the door would be locked. Also this house had been renovated. It had new tile, carpets, cabinets in the kitchen and such. But certain rooms had these old-style push-button light switches. They would be lit if the lights in the room were off and then you would push it and the switch would make a loud audible double-click, sounded kind

like a kachunk and the light would turn on. In the hallway the guest bathroom's light started turning on at different times of the night. But only when we were awake. We could be watching TV in the den and you would hear the click and the light in the bathroom would be on. No one was around when it did this and we could find no reason for it to be doing this. I remember shortly after we have moved in. I had a brother over to help me, connect all of my devices to connect a new Wi-Fi modem. After he had got done getting everything set up, it was dark outside, and he asked where the bathroom was. I told him, the first door on the left down the hallway.

I heard him go in, press the light switch, kachunk. And as I heard him relieving himself, the house was not that big of a house, I heard the loud, kachunk. again. Then my brother screamed out, What the fuck? He flushed and came out. We told him we had all heard it and told him this was happening on a kind of regular basis. As we were settling in at this house, I bought a touch-sensitive lamp that I could place on a table next to my son's hospital bed so that those times he called me late at night,

I could just go in and tap the light and have light in his room. From off, if you touched the light once, It would light dimly or low. The second touch would be medium. A third touch would put the light at its brightest setting. And of course the fourth touch would turn it off again. Well after about a week that this light was there, it started to turn on in the middle of the night.

But it always seemed to turn on between 12 a.m. and 2 a.m. and it was always on at the second medium setting. Never the low or a higher setting. There was no way that my disabled sun would have been able to reach that light as it was to the left of his bed and out of range of his hands and arms. He has had limited range of motion in his arms after his car accident. This light turned on every night without fail. There were several times that I would try to stay awake,

just like I could catch the light turning on and run into the room to catch our invisible culprit. It never worked. I could be sitting up in bed with my dearer, door open, watching for the hallway to brighten from the light being turned on, I was never able to catch it. As soon as I would start to doze off and my eyes would close, I would snap awake and the light would already be on. At this time, I downloaded a Ghost Hunter's app on my iPhone to test some things out. That night I was walking around the house trying to get

EMF readings. They were highest in my son's room. My brother was over the over again that night and told me it was probably picking up the electrical current from the wiring in the walls. So we decided to kill all the power to the house at the main fuse box and to check the room again. Even with the power turned off, the EMF readings were high in the guest bedroom and highest again in my disabled son's room. One night I have my girlfriend staying over and that night after we had our fun. We opened the door to my room so if my son called, I could hear him. We went to sleep. I woke up to her screaming, yelling that someone was at the door.

I looked, and sure enough, there was a shadow figure at the door. I'm getting goosebumps just typing this. I jumped out of bed as I saw it move to the left of the door and ran into the hallway. From there I saw the shape go into the bathroom. the same one that had the light being turned on by itself. I turned on the light, my hands shaking, and the room was empty. I could not get my girlfriend to go back to sleep, and she packed up her stuff and left. The next day I decided to go across the street to speak with my landlord

and tell him the things that were happening. It was then that he told me he had brought the house, after the woman that had lived there had passed on. She died in the house, and he brought it and turned it into a rental property, and I was his first tenant at that house. After I told him all of the things that were happening, he told me that he was willing to rent a video camera and we could set it up in my son's room. I told him maybe that we would just see how things progressed, as no one had been harmed

and whatever was in that house did not seem malevolent in any way. As weeks turned into months and each night passing meant me waking up in the middle of the night to turn off the light in my son's room, as it would wake me up eventually. The doors around the house would lock and unlock themselves. The light in the bathroom would turn on and off. We kind of got used to it. One night I was asleep in my room and I had the AC on, and the ceiling fan was on in my room as the El Paso summer nights can be hot as hell, anyway, I was asleep, and was awakened by the sound of the vertical blinds, knocking against themselves. I wrote it off as the air being moved by the fan and the AC.

I closed my eyes and was just about to doze off again, when I felt the hair on the back of my neck prick up. I closed my eyes tighter and told myself, Don't look. As soon as I thought that, I felt breathing on my right ear. And as plain as day, something whispered, Mother, into my ear. I yelled and jumped out of bed, turned on my lights and... Nothing.

There was no one there. As time moved on, I started dating another woman with three kids. And when things started to get serious between her and I, I converted the room that could be used as an office to a spare bedroom with a set of bunkers. bedroom with a set of bunk beds and another small bed for this girlfriend's youngest daughter as they would come over and started spending weekends with us. They started experiencing things too. Mostly the shadow figure. The little girl was the one that would see this the most,

get scared and come into our room and jump into bed with us. All of us had experiences with the shadow as we started to call it. There were times I would be watching TV in the den and I would I would feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I would spin around only to catch a dark streak, moving away. And in a second, it was gone. Anyway, as our one year lease was coming close to an end, I contacted the El Paso Paranormal Society and asked if they could come out and check the house. I called them, sent an email via the website, never got an answer.

My girlfriend and I got married, this did not last but that's another story. And we ended up buying a house in the same neighbourhood, only about three blocks from this one. As we were almost done with our move, I was finally contacted by the old Paso Paranormal Society. Needless to say, they were anxious to come check out the house and wanted to set up an appointment about two weeks from the day of their call. I told them we were already moving to a new place and that we would not be living there any long longer by the time they would be able to come out. So the guy I spoke to told me, make sure the last thing that I should do when I leave the

house for the final time would be to announce to whatever was in that house, that he needed to stay there and that it was not allowed to follow me. His telling me this gave me chills, but I said sure. Okay. That night as me and my girlfriend were getting the last things out of that house, we did a final walk through, making sure the lights were wrong. off, the doors were locked. The landlord had already been over to inspect and just asked us to leave a light on in the house. We chose to leave the light on in the kitchen as it had a window with

vertical blinds that looked out onto the driveway of the house. This way it would seem as if someone was home. As my wife and I got into each of our own cars and had our windows down, we were speaking to each other. I remember what the ghost hunter had told me. I yelled over to my wife to Hold on a sec. I got out of my car, unlocked and opened the front door. I stood in the doorway and said, whatever is in this house, this is now your house. You are not allowed to follow us. You must stay here. I backed out of the house, closed and locked the door, and got back into my car. I yelled over to my wife, let's go. went all of a sudden, right in front of both of us.

We saw one of the vertical blinds in the kitchen window, move sideways, as if someone was looking out. We looked at each other and said, let's get the fuck out of here. And we left. I almost left out one of the creepiest things. There was one morning that I awoke very early, like 4.30-ish. and that damn light was on in my son's room again. I always tried to catch the light and turn it off before it worked my son, as due to his brain injury, sleep was very important for him to have.

As I walked in quietly to turn off the light, I was pissed that this had been going on so long and nightly. I tapped the light twice to turn it off and started to walk out of the room. I stopped at the foot of my son's hospital bed and said out loud, If there is something here, turn on that fucking light, and almost immediately, the light turned on. I did not realise that my son, who I thought was asleep at the time, woke up. The look of terror on his face shook me to my core.

To this day, I still have nightmares about that morning, and the look on his face. After that morning, I unplugged that lamp and put it away in the garage. The house is real, it's local. located at 2921 1st Street in El Paso, Texas. You can Google it and see it looks like a normal house. You can even see the kitchen window that's close to the driveway that had that single vertical blind to push sideways that last night there. Update. Now for the kicker.

Since I made the original post, I have been contacted by two persons that knew this house and knew the couple that lived there. As mentioned earlier, the woman that lived there previously died in that house. What I did not know was that she died and stayed in that house, undiscovered for a little more than a week. Eventually the police were called out by one of the persons that had contacted me about my original post to do a wellness check due to mail and newspapers starting to pile up, and no one answering the door when they would knock. After the police gained access to the house, she was found dead in the hallway. between my son's room and the bathroom with the light that would turn on and off all

times the night. Also I was told this lady that lived in her house became very angry and hateful as she grew older. She was paranoid and developed dementia. She became so hateful and cruel that she alienated all of her family, even her husband who eventually moved out and paid the bills while she lived there. alone. Then he passed, the husband. This lady kept the urn with his ashes on the kitchen table, that looked out onto the front driveway, the same window that had the vertical blind pushed sideways, as if something or someone was looking out at me at my wife. I was told that the room my son slept in, as the lady suffered more and more from dementia, she

made a shrine of sorts, with paper after paper taped to the wall, asking God to save her, to not hate her, to forgive her, for her family to love her. This same wall where my son was set up in that room had his medals from track and cross country. Pictures of his friends, newspaper articles. I was even told by the same person that when she was younger, one of this lady's daughters told her, When this daughter was a child, that she did not like to be in that room, because her dark smoke came out of the outlet at night, the same outlet that my son had his touch lamp plugged into. This means that there was something in that house, even while the couple that lived there were both still alive.

As told me by this same witness, this house was the first house built in this subdivision back in 1959. I wonder now, what was it built over? Believe me when I say that there was much more that happened in this house that I did not cover, so much in fact that I always false about writing about it as a book. My own tests and traps that I set up to try and document proof were kind of crazy too. I went so far as dusting the metal dome of the touch lamp with flower, just to see if there would be any prints,

running thread the same colour of the carpet, an inch from the floor across my son's doorway, that it was almost unseen. Hoping to see the strings snapped from whatever was entering my son's room at night. Never got a damn thing. It has been years since I lived there. This house is very close to my son's mother's house. The times I have to go over there, I make it a point to drive by this place. There are new tenants there.

Well, not new as they are. have lived there since shortly after I moved out. I always wonder if they too are having experiences there. Ghosts are real. Hauntings are real. I think and believe that because both my son and I both had very close calls with almost dying. This made us more susceptible and open to the entities in the house. Anyway the story is all true. The house is real. I do not know if the new tenants have had any experiences and I see no reason to back to the house and find out. This isn't my story but my dad's, but I feel it's worthwhile telling it here. My dad was a builder, contracted to the local council to

carry out works on council buildings. In the UK this also includes homes and flats. My dad was told his next piece of work would be in a flat building, with multiple rooms and three levels. Homes and flats like these where no one lives in them at the time are called voids. The building is just empty rooms. When this happens, the council put big heavy metal doors on the building to prevent thieves from getting in. You need a set of keys provided by the council. To get ahead of himself, my dad wanted to see the scale of the work he would be undertaking, rather than going there completely under-equipped and unprepared. So my dad opens up and takes a look around. Four rooms on ground floor, same on second and third. All connected by a staircase,

which had a central shaft through the middle. You can see right to the ceiling on the third floor. Stairs of metal bars for railings. A big job, but achievable in a few days. Got the place out, re-plaster a few walls and a repaint job. My dad goes to lock up, but he fills someone but behind him. This I'm told is not uncommon. Local people see builders go into empty buildings and they want to see what they can take. So naturally my dad turns around. Mate you're gonna have to leave, I'm locking up, but he said it to no one. No one was around him or had been in the building. Thinking this is just an odd sensation, he thought nothing else about it, locked up and went home. My dad told my mum what

happened, but it was more of a passing remark. Like, oh, this happened today, weird, and nothing else was said. Anyway, the weekend passes, and my dad and his friend Martin go back to the job on Monday, and begin opening up and proceeding with the work. A local resident walks up and asks them how things are going, to which both agree it's going well, and some other small talk. He changes the subject, It's a shame what happened in there, isn't it? Both my dad and his working friend were confused. A shame? What's the shame?

Poor girl came home from school a few months ago and saw her dad hanging, tied himself to the railing and jumped. My dad of course was now scared and felt that familiar shiver go up him. He didn't tell the local guy what he had felt, but he told his friend. Martin refused to go in the building alone and they both agreed that they would always leave the central door open to make sure there was an exit if needed. My dad would be the first to tell you he doesn't really believe in ghosts and he would also say he has never seen a ghost, but he did say this was the oddest experience he has ever had and still cannot explain it. My husband and I visited the Haunted Museum in Vegas. We upgraded to the RIP tickets and we were the only ones in the tall group that had been upgraded.

It's a part of the upgraded experience as you get to go down into the basement. I was excited to go down but nervous that it was just my husband and I going down. I started down the stairs followed closely by my husband. I got to the first doorway to the little hallway and I immediately was overwhelmed with an uneasy negative feeling. Everything in my body told me to turn around and run back up the stairs. I ignored that and started down the little hallway to the room with the pentagram on the floor. The uneasy feeling kept getting worse and worse. I felt like something was watching me.

I got to the doorway of the room with the pentagram and I just had the gut feeling to turn around and run. I turned around and looked at my husband to tell him I wanted to go back upstairs. And when I turned around to look at him, I saw standing right behind him, a figure dressed, in a hooded black cloak. I know my eyes weren't playing tricks on me, because the figure was as clear and solid looking as my husband. I have also seen many spirits in my life to know this was one. I closed my eyes and ran back down the hallway and up the stairs.

I returned to the museum a couple of months later, and went back down to the basement. and I didn't have the uneasy feeling, didn't experience anything else in the basement. There are a few warnings I want to get out of the way before I tell this story. First there are mentions of suicide. I don't go into any detail just out of respect for the individual involved and their family. Secondly, I will also be talking about depression and anxiety. This story is extremely dark, but also terrifying. I have never had something like this happen again, thank goodness.

To begin, I need to tell you what's exactly a white-eyed child is. There's not a lot of information about them, but from the research I've done, they're messengers of death. Another name for them is angels of death. A lot of elderly people tend to see them right before they die. It's also said that if you see one. It means either you or someone you know is about to pass on. At the time of the sighting, I had no knowledge about these children or their meanings.

I didn't connect the dots until later on, the dots being seen the child, and then the death that followed. So a little backstory. I got a job at this retirement home after I had to move out of my parents' house at the age of 18. employment was proving difficult. So my best friend's mother, Lola, did me a solid and got me a job at the place she worked. The building was old. It was formerly a train station before it was converted into a retirement home. Since it was where many people lived for the remainder of their lives, there were a lot of deaths over the years, which meant there were shadow figures.

I remember asking my co-worker about them, and she said it wasn't uncommon to spot one in the corner of your eye. She told me not to worry about it, and they were harmless. That was about the extent of the paranormal activity that I had encountered. However, while working there I had some severe anxiety, something I had never suffered from before. Probably didn't help that the environment was pretty toxic. My boss was sexist and the kitchen was filled with middle-aged women with nothing better to do than gossip. It wasn't my first time working in a less than ideal place, but at my old job which just so happened to be Walmart. I never felt anxiety like this.

It was always dread. I actually had my first anxiety attack working at that retirement home. It was scary and out of the blue. probably one of the worst experiences of my life, and I never had anxiety again after I left. Anyway, the day I saw the white-eyed child was just a regular workday. I worked as a dishwasher, but I also helped prep, mainly peeling potatoes and helping out with other things. So I was on my way to the pantry to grab something. When this little girl popped up in front of me, startled me so badly that I stopped dead in my tracks,

half expecting to mow a little girl down. She was gone just as soon as she appeared. I remember glancing around the kitchen, seeing any of my other co-workers spotted the little girl, but they were all carrying on with their tasks, as if nothing had happened. I recall some of her details. She wore a white, olden day dress,

blonde pigtails, a white nightcap, and white-eyed. I might have only seen her for a millisecond, but I'll never forget how her eyes had no irises or pupils. To describe dishpit, it was in the shape of the U. beside my workstation was a door that led out to the dining room. The door had a small window. This is important to the story.

These large windows in the dining room overlooked the street in front of the building. It was around 2pm when I spotted red-eastern. and blue flashing lights in that little window. My co-worker came in shortly after in tears. I asked her what was wrong, and she informed me of residents had taken their life. For some reason I decided to walk out of the kitchen to see that the entire street was filled with fire trucks, ambulances and police. Again, I won't go into detail, but I will say it was horrible.

I knew who the resident was. They were kind, they were caring, and they were a wonderful human being. Their passing weighed heavily on us all, making working at that place even harder. I'm unsure how to describe this next part, that the atmosphere felt heavy, not sad, but... Evil. I know I sound insane, but it's like on top of being sad for our friend. It was also like something taken up residence in that building. Like it was feeding off of our misery. There were a lot of deaths following this passing. A lot of health problems and even the employees were suffering from the effects. I fell into a deep depression I am still suffering from. Though that has been something that I've been struggling with for a while. Anyway, that is the story of the white-eyed child. It's incredibly dark and does not have a happy ending.

But I'll never forget it. I will say that if you or someone you know is suffering, please reach out. I know I sound like a broken record, but from one broken person to another, you are not alone. More importantly, don't be ashamed of reaching out. You're not weaker for omitting you need help. You're a heck of a lot stronger for it. This was a few years back when I was still high school aged. It was during the summer and I remember that if only because of how hot it had been during

the day. I had to go to sleep in thin pajamas with my fan going full blast to keep me cool during the night. Thanks for you know I'm waking up and I looked at my alarm clock. It had been 2.40 something a.m. when I got up to drink some water because I was parched. I had just stepped out of my room and opened my eyes, because I had been rubbing at them to wake up a little more before I paused. My light light light was on. Yes, I used a nightlight. So what? There was something in front of me, sucking up the light from it, say about five feet away. It was tall. black, had what looked like some type of hat on. I'm pretty sure it was a fedora

because of the way it tipped. And I just froze up for a bit while staring at it, before flicking on the hallway light. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise the longer I stared at it. Once I had flicked on the light, it was gone. I've never felt so terrified before or since. Those types of shadow people, dangerous or something. This isn't my first experience with the paranormal. In fact, the last encounter I had happened in the same place. Dustin's house. This time we were hanging out in his garage. It was myself, Dustin, and two of our closest friends, Brandon and Drew.

The four of us were all gathered in Dustin's garage, simply hanging out and talking about all matter of high school problems. During the talk, Dustin had made his way to the opposite side of the garage, next to the garage door. The three of us hadn't noticed that this was strategic on Dustin's part. See, there was another light switch in the garage, right next to the garage door. Dustin had hatched a scheme to scare us by suddenly turning the lights out in the middle of our conversation. It was near midnight and we were already wound up. It was guaranteed to leave us in complete darkness. However, This didn't go his way, or our way either.

None of us knew what was going to happen that night. So Dustin turned out the lights. It startled us at first, but we quickly realised it was Dustin, trying to scare us. We asked multiple times for him to turn the light back on. He responded with poorly acted confusion. He eventually turned them back on for us. The lights in his garage were very bright. We were blinded for a second and had to let our eyes adjust to the light.

And that's when we saw it. For some strange reason when the lights came back on, the three of us on the opposite side from Dustin were all facing the same way. We all faced the wall opposite the garage door. It was painted white, so it made this very noticeable to us. We saw a black handprint that was slightly faded, It's just this lone handprint. Now that may seem like it's easily explainable, which it definitely could be.

However, what happened next? Can't be. The three of us mumbled to each other for a second, all asking if we remembered seeing that handprint before the lights went out. We all agreed that we hadn't. Dustin asked what was going on, and we told him we saw a black handprint. He must have thought we were joking because he didn't take us seriously at all. He turned the lights out on us again.

This time we reacted with a little more anger, telling him to turn the lights back on. He tried to joke around with us, but we weren't in a joking mood. He caught the hint and turned the lights back on. When our eyes adjusted to the light again, we saw them. Multiple black handprints. all overlapping each other in a horizontal straight line. Leading from one wall to the next, every wall in the garage now had a line of overlapping black handprints.

They were surrounding us. It looked as though something, or someone, had been running on all fours, horizontally around us, circling us. Dustin saw them as well. The feeling of terror and panic says him for all of us. We trampled over one another trying to escape the garage. Drew pushed his hands and his head into my back, ramming me through the door into the house.

The three of us spilled onto Dustin's living room floor. We couldn't catch our breath and kept shouting nonsense to each other, trying to make sense of what had just happened. We all had a hard time calming down. We tried to convince ourselves that it didn't even happen and that we only thought we had seen the handprints. However, when we mustered the courage to check, we were greeted with the handprints, still being there. The garage then became a restricted area for us when we all hung out.

The only time we would go back in was to try and do our own investigating. We never cleaned the handprints off. I'm not sure if it was out of fear of anger in whatever I'd left them. where if it was a reminder that it did happen. Either way, it's still one of the craziest experiences I've ever had. It will always stick with me. So my whole life I've had minor experiences with the paranormal. Things like hearing someone say my name,

or footsteps when I'm alone in the house or at work. However, I've had two bigger experiences, and this is the scary one. I'm a 40-year-old female. When I was around 20, my parents rented her house and let me take over the basement. My parents' room along with my sister's room and an office were on the second floor with the living room. We had no issues when we first moved in or for the first few months, which I truly believe was because a friend of mine was staying with me in the basement. After she was kicked out of her house, she stayed with us only while she was able to get her own place.

However, as soon as she left, I began waking up about 2 a.m. every night and seeing a dark shadow across the room. At first I thought maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me, and just tried to ignore it. Around this time though, I began to get a bad feeling down there and started spending more time upstairs when just hanging out at home. home. It was working at a pub and so I would often be home during the day alone while my parents were at work and my sister was in school. It was at this time I started hearing footsteps, walk up and down the hallway on the second floor, which later found out my mum would hear if she was home alone as well. But whatever was upstairs felt peaceful. Now this is when it gets little scary. I started to realise that the dark figure I would see at night was getting closer.

I didn't notice right away because it would just stand there. But each night it was about one step closer than the night before. Now looking back I probably should have moved into the office upstairs when it got to my bed. But I didn't. The last night I stayed in the basement. I woke up to this black shadow on top of me. I felt as I could not breathe, and I started to panic, while at the same time I could not move at all. It was terrifying. It felt like it lasted forever, and yet it was most likely only a few minutes. I took my blanket and pillow, ran up the stairs, and slept on the couch in the living room. The next morning when my mother woke up and saw me sleeping on the couch, she asked me why. When I told her what happened, she looked pale, like all the blood

drained from her face. Then she told me that at the same time, she and my dad, who is very much a non-believer, had a similar experience, and only strangely not as scary. More like a warning. We only used a basement for storage after that. To this day we think was. whatever was upstairs, was trying to warn my parents of what was happening to me, downstairs. It's getting late. I think our journey is coming to its end. But before I let you go into that dark night, I wanted to have one last story. This is going to be a little different.

A few months ago I covered a bunch of Japanese urban legends on the channel. One in particular has been stuck in my imagination. my imagination ever since. So I wanted to leave you with a retelling of this story. Translated into English, this urban legend is very matter-of-factly known as 8 feet tall. Again, the earliest version of this story appears to originate from a post on the two-channel message board in Japan. The website, Mysteries Unsolved, have posted what is supposedly a translation of the original story. I'll leave a link in the description if you want to read it yourself. But here it goes.

My grandparents lived in Japan. My parents would take me there during my summer vacations and winter breaks from school to visit them. It was a small yet beautiful village where I really enjoyed every time I went. My grandparents loved to play with me and they had a big backyard. I was their only grandchild, so they never bothered me. me to have fun. But the last time I visited them was over ten years ago now, when I was only eight years old and was still in my third year of high school. After that I didn't go there. To say I can never go there. But why? Well its answer is hidden in the following story.

I remember as usual my parents booked a flight to Japan and we drove from the airport to my grandparents' house. When we arrived my grandparents welcomed me with open arms. They had a lot of little presents to give me. My parents wanted to have some time by themselves, so after a few days they took a trip to another part of Japan, leaving me in the care of my grandma and grandpa. One day I was playing out in the backyard. My grandparents were inside the house. It was still cold, but the wide edge of the backyard was very warm and comfortable. I was relaxing on the fresh grass for a while. After that I stared up at the clouds and enjoyed the feeling of the soft rays of the sun and the gentle breeze.

Just as I was about to get up, I heard a strange sound. It wasn't a mechanical sound. It felt like a person was making it. It sounded like someone was making the noise. Poe. Pull, pull. Over and over again, in a deep masculine voice. I didn't know what it was, whatever I thought. I found a straw hat on the top of the tall hedges of the garden that enclosed the backyard.

I didn't put it on the hedge. The hat moved sideways. And when it came to the cut of the fence, I saw a wall. woman, or the hat was worn by her. That was when I realised who was sounding like poe, poe, poe, poe, poe. The woman was wearing a white dress, but the height of the hedge was about eight feet. I was surprised that how tall a woman can put her head out of that hedge. The woman moved again and disappeared from sight. The hat was also gone. In addition the strange sound of pull, pull, pull, pull, was slowly gradually lost, fading into the distance.

At that time I only thought that a tall woman was wearing an ultra-fit costume, or a tall man wearing shoes with high heels dressed at a woman. Bewarded, I got up and wandered back to the house. My grandparents were in the kitchen drinking tea. I sat down at the table and after a while I told my grandparents what I had seen. I saw a tall woman just before. I wonder if a man was dressed as a woman. They weren't really paying attention to me. She was taller than the fence.

Still, they were enjoying the tea and were talking to each other. She was wearing a hat and sounding a strange voice like, Poe, pole, pole. As I said this, the two people stopped moving. No, they really stopped suddenly.

Grandma's eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with her hand. Grandpa's face became very serious and he grabbed me by the arm. After that he bombarded me with questions and his very serious voice. When did you see her? Where did you see her? Where was she standing? How much higher than the fence? What did you do?

Did you see you? I tried to answer all his questions as best as I could. He suddenly rushed out to the phone in the hallway and called somewhere. I couldn't hear what he was saying because the sliding door was closed. I looked over at my grandma and she was trembling. Grandpa finished a phone call and then came back into the room and spoke something to my grandmother. I've got to go out for a while, he said.

You stay here with the child. Don't take your eyes off him, for a second. What's going on Grandpa? I cried. He looked at me with a sad expression in his eyes and said, you've been liked by Hashi Hasak Kusama. And with that he hurried out, got into his truck and drove off. I turned to my grandmother and cautiously asked, who is Hashi Hasakku Suma? Grandpa will do something for you. You don't have to worry about anything. Grandma said in her trembling voice. As we sat nervously in the kitchen, waiting for my grandfather to come back, she explained what was happening. She told me there was a dangerous, nasty thing

that was haunting the area. They called it Hashi Hasak Kusuma. In Japanese, translated it means eight feet tall. As the name suggests, it has a height of about eight feet and it laughs in a strange way with a po po po pooh poe voice it appears slightly different depending on who sees it some say it looks like a haggard old woman in a kimono others say it is a girl in a white funeral shroud things that never change are its tall height and its creepy laughter Pooh, pull, pull. A long time ago it was captured by monks, and they managed to confine it in a ruined building on the outskirts of the village. They trapped it using four religious statues called Gizos that they placed at the north, south, east and west of the ruins.

And it wasn't supposed to be able to move from there. But somehow it managed to escape. The last time it appeared was 15. years ago. My grandmother said, whomever eight feet tall seas will die within a few days. It all sounded so crazy. I wasn't sure what to believe. After that grandpa came back with an old woman. She introduced herself as K-san and handed me a small crumpled piece of parchment, saying, here, take this and hold it. Then she and grandpa went upstairs. to do something. I was left alone in the kitchen with my grandmother again. I needed to go to the

toilet. Granny followed me to the bathroom and wouldn't let me shut the door. I was beginning to get really frightened by all this. After a while, Grandpa and Kasan took me upstairs and brought me into my bedroom. The windows were covered in newspaper and lots of ancient ruins had been written on. There were small bowls of salt in all full corners of the room, and a small Buddha statue placed at the centre of the room on top of a wooden box. There was also a bright blue bucket. What's the bucket for? I asked. That's for your pee and poo, grandpa replied. Then Ksan sat me down in the bed and said, Soon the sun will be setting. So listen carefully. You must stay in this room until tomorrow morning. You must not come out under any circumstances until seven o'clock tomorrow morning.

Your grandmother and your grandfather will not speak to you or call you until then. Remember, do not leave the room for any reason until then. I will let your parents know what is going on. She spoke in such a grave tone that all I could do was quietly nod my head. You have to follow case and instructions to the letter, Grandparent's. told me, and never let go of the parchment she gave you. And if anything happens, pray to Buddha, and make sure you lock this door when we leave. They walked out into the hallway, and after saying goodbye to them, I closed the bedroom door and locked it.

I turned on the TV and tried to watch, but I was so nervous. I felt sick to my stomach. Grandma had left some snacks, sweets and rice balls for me. balls for me, but I couldn't eat them. I felt like I was in prison and I was very depressed and scared. I lay down on the bed and waited. Before I knew it, I was asleep. When I woke up, it was just after 1 a.m. All of a sudden, I realized that something was tapping on the window. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. I felt the blood blood draining from my face and my heart skipped a beat. I desperately tried to calm myself down, telling myself it was just the wind playing tricks, or maybe the branches of a tree.

I drink a sip of tea to calm down, but after all I was so scared that I started to watch the TV, the loud sound that drowned out the tapping noise. Eventually it stopped altogether, and that was when I heard my grandpa's voice. Are you okay in there? he asked. If you're scared, you don't have to stay in there all alone. I can come in and keep your company. I smiled and rushed over to open the door. But then I stopped in my tracks.

I had goosebumps all over my body. It sounded like Grandpa's voice, but somehow it was different. I couldn't tell what it was, but I just knew. knew. What are you doing? Grandpa asked. You can open the door now. I glanced to my left and the chill went down my spine.

The salt in the bowls was slowly turning black. I backed away from the door. My whole body was trembling with fear. I fell to my knees in front of the Buddha statue and clutched a piece of parchment paper tightly in my hand. I started desperately praying for help. praying for help. Please save me from eight feet tall, I wailed. Then I heard the voice outside the door saying,

Poo, pooh, pooh, then the tapping on the window started up again. I was overcome by fear and I crouched there in front of a statue, half crying and half praying for the rest of the night. I felt like the long night would never end, but eventually it was morning. The time displayed on the desk watch was indeed 7.13 a.m. The salt in all four bowls was discoloured to pitch black. Just in case I checked my watch, it was also showing 713. I cautiously opened the horrible door. Grandma and Kaysan were standing outside waiting for me with a worried face. When she saw my face, Grandma burst into tears. I'm so glad

you're still alive, she said. I went downstairs and was surprised to see my father and mother sitting in the kitchen. Grandpa came in and said, hurry up, we've got to get going. We went to the front door and there was a large black van waiting in the driveway. Several men from the village were standing around it, pointing at me and whispering, that's the boy. The van was a nine-seater. They put me in the middle. middle, surrounded by eight men. KSan was in the driver's seat. The man on my left looked down at me and said, You've got yourself in quite a spot of trouble. I know you're probably worried. Just keep your head down and your eyes shut. We can't see it that you can. Don't open

your eyes until we've got you safely out of here. Grandpa drove in front and my dad's car was following behind. When everyone was ready, our little convoy started moving. We were going fairly slowly, around 20 kilometres an hour, maybe less. After a while, Kaysan said, this is where it gets hard, and started muttering a prayer under her breath. That was when I heard the voice. A clutched a parchment, Kaysan had given me tightly at my hand. I kept my head to down, but at a time I peaked outside. I saw a white dress fluttering in the breeze. It was moving along with the van. It was eight feet tall. She was outside the window, but she was keeping pace with us. Then suddenly she bent down and peered into the van. No, I gasped. The men beside me shouted, close your eyes. I immediately shut my eyes as hard as I could. and tightened my grip on the piece of parchment.

Then the tapping began. The voice became louder. There was tapping on the windows all around us. All the men in the van were startled and on edge, muttering nervously to themselves. They couldn't see eight feet tall, and they couldn't hear her voice. But they could hear her tapping on the windows.

Kaysan started praying louder and louder until she was almost shouting. The tension inside the van was unbearable. After a while the tapping stopped and the voice disappeared Fading gradually. Kaysan looked back at us and said, I think we're safe now. All of the men around me breathed a sigh of relief The van pulled over to the side of the road and the men got out They transferred me into my dad's car My mother held me close and tears were running down her cheeks weeks.

Grandpa and my father bowed to the men, and they went on their way. Kaysan came to the window and asked me to show her the piece of parchment she had given me. When I opened my hand, I saw that it had gone completely black. I think you'll be okay now, she said. But just to be sure, hold on to this for a while. She handed me a new piece of parchment. After that we drove straight to the airport, and Grandpa saw us safely on the plane. When we took off my parents breathed a sigh of relief.

My father told me he had heard about eight feet tall before. Years ago his friends had been liked by her. The boy disappeared and was never seen again. My father said there were other people who had been liked by her and lived to tell about it. They all had to leave Japan and settle down in foreign countries. They were never able to go back. to their homeland. She always chooses children as her victims.

They say it's because children are dependent on their parents and family members. This makes them easy as deceive when she poses as their relatives. He said the men in the van were all blood relatives of mine. And that's why they had been sitting all around me and why my father and grandpa had been driving in the front and back. It was all done to try and confuse eight feet tall. It took a while to contact everyone and get them all together, so that's why I had to be confined in the room all night.

He further told me that one of the Gizzo statues, the ones that were meant to keep her trapped, had been broken, and that was how she escaped. It gave me chills. I was glad when we finally got home. All of this happened more than ten years ago. I haven't seen my grandparents since and I haven't been able to so much as set foot in the country. Afterwards I will call them every few weeks and talk to them on the phone. Over the years I tried to convince myself that it was just an urban legend.

That everything that happened was just some elaborate prank. But sometimes, I'm not so sure. My grandfather died two years ago. When he was sick, he wouldn't allow me to visit him. and he left strict instructions in his will that I wasn't to attend his funeral. It was all very sad. My grandmother called a few days ago. She said she'd been diagnosed with cancer.

She missed me terribly and wanted to see me one last time before she died. Are you sure, Grandma? I asked. Is it safe? It's been ten years, she said. All that happened a long time. ago. It's all forgotten. We're all grown up now. I'm sure there won't be a problem. But... But what about eight feet tall? I said. For a moment there was silence on the other end of the phone. Then I heard a deep masculine voice saying, Thank you for sticking

around until the end. If you haven't already, then please be sure to subscribe. I'll have many more terrifying tales to bring you very soon. Until next time, sweet dreams.