The Tape Library - Archive of the Paranormal & the Unexplained - TRUE Scary Stories To Fall Asleep to (Vol 4) | 3 Hours Of True Paranormal Stories BONUS EPISODE

Episode Date: September 29, 2023

As we approach spooky season I’m going to try and drop some bonus episodes, starting with this three hour marathon. This is a compilation of some of the episodes from the first year of The Tape Library, edited together with the music and visuals stripped back. Perfect for those who enjoy falling asleep, studying or working to the sounds of creepy real life paranormal stories. In this three-hour paranormal and unexplained stories marathon, you'll get to listen to some of the scariest, most spine-tingling stories ever told. From eerie murders to spine-tingling hauntings, you'll be sure to fall asleep thanks to this nightmarish collection of stories. And what's more, they all really happened.If you're looking for a horror-filled sleepover that will keep you up all night, then this is the perfect event for you! This marathon will bring you some of the scariest and most spine-tingling stories ever told, sure to leave you wanting more! 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 Stock footage and additional audio courtesy of Envato Tiktok - https://www.tiktok.com/@thetapelibrary  Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/thetapelibrary Archive of the Paranormal, the strange and the unexplained. The Tape Library brings you the creepiest stories, to keep you horror junkies up all night. True scary stories of ghosts, cryptids, UFOs and true crime. Chapters 00:00 True Paranormal Stories Marathon 01:56 The True Story of Annabelle 21:29 Sleep Paralysis Demons 41:32 Spring Heeled JAck 59:36 True Ghost Stories From Reddit (Part 1) 1:20:19 The True Story of The Amityville Horror 1:56:12 The Calvine UFO Photo 2:14:48 The Watcher of Westfield 2:39:31 Real Life Reddit Ghost Stories (Part 2) 2:56:52 Ghost Stories From Reddit (Part 3) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to the tape library. If you are new here, I bring you tales of the paranormal, of the unexplainable, of the horrifying, every couple of weeks. This episode is a little different. I know some of the creeps out there love falling at sleep to these dark real-life encounters with the other world. so this is specifically for you. I've pieced together several real-life stories that we've covered on this channel into one three-hour-long marathon. Perfect for those who like to sleep, study or work

with these stories in the background. The visuals and music have all been stripped back to provide a more calming experience. Well, as calm as you can be while we talk about things that should not be. If you are not yet subscribed, then please consider doing that now before we drift off.

I try to do these episodes once every few months. If you are a regular tape library archivist, and don't fancy revisiting some of our classic cases here, then don't worry. I'll be back next week with the next normal entry into the tape library. But for those of you who are up for a marathon

of creepy tales, dim the light, Get yourself comfortable and get nice and close to the campfire. The light from the fire will keep you warm and safe, hopefully. Where shall we begin? On September the 7th, 1915, a man named John Gorell received a patent for his latest product. Years earlier, his daughter had bought him a plain-faced doll she had been playing with. John picked up the doll and studied it carefully. I think it's missing something, he said.

He carefully drew two small eyes and a triangular nose, before giving the toy back to his daughter. Little did John know at the time, but this simple action would lead to him first off creating a series of stories about this doll, before securing the patent in 1915 that would give birth to one of the most popular toys of the 20th century. This was Raggedy Ann,

a figure beloved by generations of children. However, 45 years later, the purchase of an old Raggedy Ann doll from an antique store would bring about one of the most infamous ghost stories of all time. It would involve two of the most controversial figures in the field of paranormal research, launch a multi-million dollar film franchise nearly a century after the doll's creation, and even cause a tragic death. So get yourself comfortable, dim the lights, and we'll hit play on the first tape in the library. This is the true story of the most famous demonic doll in the world.

This is the story of Annabel. Deirdre Bernard, a 25-year-old nursing student, must have looked perplexed when she unwrapped her birthday present from her mother to find an old child-sized doll. On the verge of graduating and not known to be a keen collector of dolls, the reasoning behind this gift appears to be unknown. When quizzed about her mother's purchase, Deidre simply said, it was just something novel, a decoration. Maybe it was just a random purchase, a fun gift to give to your daughter. But knowing what was to come, maybe something about this particular doll, spoke to Deirdre's mother, drew her in, somehow manipulated its way into her arms.

Either way, the doll ended up in Deirdre's student apartment that she shared with another young woman named Lara Clifton. Deirdre would keep the doll on her bed during the day. Each morning she would make her bed and placed the large raggedy and doll on top, sitting up, arms at its side and legs stretched out before it. The strange occurrences around Deirdre's doll started off slowly, as these things often seem to. Weeks had gone by with nothing unusual, but then Deidre started to notice something. She would position the doll the same way each morning, arms at its side, legs stretched out. But when she returned home in the evening, the doll would be in a slightly different position. One night, its ankles will be crossed over.

The next morning, Deirdre would place it back how she always did. Then return at night to find Anne's arms, folded in her lap. To begin with, Deirdre assumed Lara, or maybe Lara's fiancé cow, was playing a joke on her. So after a few weeks of noticing these strange irregularities, Deidre started to run a test. She would do something different with the doll each morning. crossing its legs, or sitting it in a different position. Each evening, the doll would be in a slightly different pose.

After a while, Deirdre confronted her roommate about the doll. Balara pleaded complete ignorance. One night, the pair returned home together to find Anne hadn't just uncrossed her legs. They opened the front door to find the Raggedy Ann doll directly in front of them. Kneeling on the ground, the doll, soft and full of stuffing, wasn't poseable, and despite repeated attempts to replicate the pose, the doll would just fall down any time Lara or Deirdre attempted it. This was when things started to take a darker turn. Lara and Deidre started to find notes around the apartment, scrawled in messy, childlike handwriting.

They would find pieces of parchment paper with messages like, Help Us, or Help Cow, written on them in pencil. Cow was seemingly never in danger when they found these messages, but it understandably unnerved the three of them. What's more, the girls claim that there were no pencils or parchment paper in the apartment. Someone was bringing these notes in from somewhere else. Convinced someone was entering their apartment and playing a prank on them, the girls started setting up marks on the doors or windows, or rearranging the rugs so they would be moved if someone were to open a door. Anything they could do so that anyone entering the apartment was,

would leave some sort of trace, but nothing happened. No evidence of any intruders at all. Another night upon returning home, the girls found the doll on Deidre's bed as usual, but this time they found blood on the doll's hands and drops across its chest. The girls understandably freaked out, but couldn't find any source for the blood around the apartment. After six weeks of strange occurrences around their home, the girls unsure where to turned decided to consult a medium. There seemed to be no physical cause for these incidents, so maybe there could be an answer in the spiritual realm. Lara and Deirdre decided to get in touch with a medium who visited the girls and between them they held a seance. Lara and Deirdre

might not have been the sort to normally entertain such things, but they were out of ideas. Something was going on with this doll. Something they couldn't explain. What they would find out though it was more surprising than they could have expected. Someone was in fact moving the raggedy and doll around their apartment, someone, supposedly, who was no longer alive. During the seance, they were seemingly contacted by the spirit of a young girl named Annabel Higgins. The medium told the girls that Annabelle was a spirit who had died when she was just seven years old. She told them she used to play in the fields here, long before the apartment complex was built. She's always been in this apartment, but it has always been occupied by adults.

Annabelle wasn't interested in playing with adults. So when these young, caring nursing students moved in, Annabelle thought they would understand her. Annabelle wanted to make friends. So, she started to move around the doll. To play with them, Annabel told the medium that all she wanted to do was be loved and looked after. Something she never had in love. knife. Annabel asked, would the girls let her move into the doll so she could stay with them? The girl said yes. A decision they would soon come to regret. It wasn't just the doll anymore. It was Annabel, Deirdre said in a later interview. The girls began treating Annabel as a real little girl, talking to her every day, involving her when they were play games, and even buying the

doll jewellery. Looking back on it now, maybe we shouldn't have given a little girl. Maybe we shouldn't have the doll so much credence, said Deirdre, but really we saw the thing as being no more than a harmless mascot. It never hurt anything, at least not until the other day. It never crossed the girl's minds that maybe, just maybe, the spirit that contacted them wasn't telling the truth. Lara's fiancé cow never liked the doll. The entire situation unnerved him, even more so now that the girls had seemingly invited a spirit into it. The thing's got a mind and dolls don't have minds right. So from the beginning I didn't think this thing moving around the apartment was cute, he said. The thing gave me bad dreams, the current ones. But what I'm going to tell you is not a dream as far as I am

concerned. Cow was plagued by dreams about the doll from the moment he laid eyes on it. To begin with, they weren't anything to worry about. But one night, at his own home, Cal fell into an extreme deep sleep. He describes the following as seeing like he is switching between his own eyes and an outer body perspective. Cow's eyes opened, laying in his bed, the room dark. He instantly felt that something wasn't right. Glancing around the room, nothing seemed out of place, until he looked down the bed at his feet. There was Annabel, slowly gliding up his body. the doll reached cow's chest frozen in fear he couldn't do anything as he watched the doll's arms moving to either side of his neck annabel began to strangle him cow thought to throw the doll off but it wouldn't even move an inch

cow awoke terrified from the experience the dream felt more real than any he had ever experienced cow's story sounds like an example of the phenomena of sleep paralysis Something I'm sure we'll go into in a later entry of the tape library. But what happened next can't be so easily explained. Cow early one evening, frustrated with the whole insane situation, threw the Annabel Dole from a chair in the lounge into Deirdre's room, slamming her door after. Later that night, Lara and Cal were sat alone in the apartment

when they heard a loud noise from Deirdre's room. Worried someone had broken in, Cal went to investigate. The noise continued. As Cow crept toward Deirdrie's closed door, before suddenly stopping, Cow slowly opened the door and switched on the light. Nothing seemed out of place. The doll still slung on the floor where he had left it. Cow slowly approached the doll when he felt what he described as a presence.

Cow swung around. No one was there. But suddenly, Lara heard Cowl scream out loud. He staggered back into the room. room, doubled over, clutching at his chest. He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal seven distinct bloody scratches across his body, three vertical, four horizontal, like something had been violently clawing at him and a frenzied rage. Cow described the sensations as a burning pain, but despite the blood, all his wounds cleared up within 24 hours. This attack on cow was a step too far for the

girls. Something wasn't right, and they no longer felt the warm, comforting presence from Annabel that they once had. It was at this point the girls contacted a priest who taught her a nearby college called Father Kevin's. When asked later why they called a priest rather than a doctor, Deirdre said simply, Do you think someone off the street would have believed where the claw marks on cow's chest came from? It suggested that the vast majority of paranormal experiences go unreported for this. this very reason. Who exactly are you supposed to turn to when something seemingly impossible happens? The priests listened to their story. The trio were convinced that no one would believe them, but Father Kevin's believed all right. He told them that he didn't want to speculate on what

exactly was happening in their apartment, but he would contact someone higher up in the church, Father Everett, a man who could perform, an exorcism. While he had the necessary knowledge, needed to perform the rights of exorcism. Father Everett wasn't hugely knowledgeable on the paranormal, or more specifically as he would later find out, the field of demonology. So he contacted a pair of investigators who had been working with the church for a number of years. This is how Ed and Lorraine Warren became involved in the tale of Annabel. Arguably, the most infamous paranormal investigators of all time, Ed, a self-proclaimed demonologist, and Lorraine, his clairvoyant wife, have been involved in supposedly thousands of investigations, most famously the incidents in Amateurville and Enfield.

The pair made a name for themselves on the lecture circuit, telling incredible tales of their battles with nefarious spirits and demonic entities. Ed and Lorraine are two controversial characters, often outright called con artists, but for years they didn't make money from their investigations, and dedicated their lives to this single pursuit. If they were con artists, as so many have said, They were dedicated ones at that. Reading the demonologist, Gerald Brittle's book on The Warrens, inspired this entry into the tape library. The stories contained within are as terrifying as they are unbelievable at times. It's hard not to get the impression. The Warrens had a flare for the dramatic.

But the Warrens lived their story. They recorded film and photographic evidence. They interviewed countless witnesses to the paranormal. The Warrens saw these paranormal experiences through the lenses of devout Catholics, and as such, Ed in particular, saw himself engaged in a battle between good and evil. The Warrens would go on to inspire the hugely successful conjuring series, something that would turn them into a household name for an entirely new generation. The Warren spoke with Deidre Lara and Cal at length, before Father Everett arrived,

pushing for any possible rational explanation for the experiences within the apartment. After hearing their whole story, it was clear to Ed what they were dealing with here. The girls had given this entity the recognition it desired, had given it further power through the doll, and in cow it had seen an obstacle to its plans that it was desperate to remove. But ghosts, human spirits, plain and simply, can't bring on phenomena of this nature, Ed told them. He then revealed that what they had brought into their home was something demonic. When Father Everett arrived, Ed laid out the entire story for him. Ed is quoted as telling Father Everett,

A spirit, in this case, an inhumane demonic spirit, began moving the doll. Once it aroused the girl's curiosity, they made the predictable mistake of bringing in a medium, who took matters a step further. Communicating through the medium, the entity preyed on the girl's emotional vulnerabilities, and during the seance managed to extract permission from them to go about its business. Permission, or welcoming a demonic entity in, is according to Ed, an important part in the entity being able to influence more of our world. It aroused fear from the weird movements of the doll. It brought about materialisation of disturbing handwritten notes.

It left a residue of blood on the doll. And ultimately, it even struck the young man. Ed made it clear that never wasn't Annabel Higgins, and the doll was not possessed. The entity was simply using it as a device. Lorraine could sense the presence. It was in the apartment with them as they spoke. Ed offered to provoke the demon, to provide the priest with evidence.

But Father Everett, already stunned by what he had heard, politely declined. Why don't I just do what needs to be done? said the priest. The priest performed the ritual and blessed everyone present without issue. Lorraine could feel the presence of the entity was lifted. Their work was done. But as they went to leave, despite Ed's proclamation the doll was not possessed, Deirdrie begged them to take the doll. The warrants have their own museum of the occult in their home that is filled with items from their investigations, so they were only too happy to take Annabel home.

But despite what Ed may have claimed, this doll appeared to carry something with it. The horrors that Annabel brought about hadn't ended. It was now on the move. Placing the doll in the back seat, the warrants began the long drive home in their new car. It was only once they were on the road that Lorraine became aware of an aura. of what she described as vicious hatred. At each dangerous curve on the dark country lanes, the car began to stall, causing the power steering and brakes to fail. After the third near accident, Ed pulled up to the side of the road and doused the doll in holy water. There were no more incidents on the drive after that. When they got home, the warrens had a taste of what

Lara and Deirdrie had been experiencing. The doll would appear in various rooms. Locked doors didn't seem to stop its teleportation, and Ed even reports seeing the Dole levitate. A black cat would often appear in Ed's office, fascinated with his belongings, especially Annabel. As quickly as the cat would appear, it would vanish again. The Dole appeared to have a strong aversion to priests. Supposed, Lorraine heard loud growls that reverberated around the house. She could find no sources for the sounds. But coincidentally, they appeared to have coincided with two back-to-back calls from Father Kevin. There were three recordings on their answer phone. In between Father Kevin's calls were the growls Lorraine had heard. A detective who was investigating a murder that had been

linked to witchcraft met with Ed at the Warren's home. Ed went upstairs to take a phone call and told a detective to feel free to look around the museum. Ed would never find out what happened, but within five minutes the detective had run upstairs, white as a sheet. He just kept saying, the doll. The rag doll was real. Annabelle has been a key feature of the Warren's Occult Museum for decades, and there are countless stories of experiences people have had with her, from a priest whose car was totaled after mocking the doll, to ornaments exploding in the Warren's home when the doll was present. Workmen who visited the house often asked for the doll to be removed. The atmosphere Annabelle seemed to create had an impact on anyone who came near her.

but the most tragic incident comes from a young couple who visited the Warren's Museum. The man, seemingly trying to show off to his girlfriend, started banging on Annabelle's display case, and started goading the doll to scratch him, like it had to cow. Ed had already warned him to be careful with the items in the museum. They had a strict no-touching policy, and with this show of disrespect, he asked the couple to leave. Later, the girl returned, clearly in shock and almost in a daze.

She told the warrants that after leaving the museum, her partner lost control of his motorcycle, crashing into a lamp post. He was killed instantly. It seemed the exorcism in the girl's apartment was a success. No further strange incidents occurred, and they didn't speak about Annabel to anyone ever again. Despite Ed's assurances about the doll not being possessed, if the stories are to be believed, that it appears something, if not in the doll, then attached to it, returned home with the warrants. Ed and Lorraine have since passed away, but their museum remains, albeit at the time of this recording, it has been closed for an extended period of time. Nonetheless,

Annabelle remains in her glass case, next to a sign that reads, warning. Positively, do not open. How many people die in their beds every year? We often talk of people passing away peacefully in their sleep. But unless we are with them in those final moments, how do we know for sure that those penultimate seconds were peaceful at all? Picture this scene with me for a moment. You're lost. Running through a field all alone. There were people with you a moment ago.

Who was it? You can't remember. But you know there were others, but still. Now you are all by yourself. No. Wait. There's someone there. In the distance.

You speed up, running towards the figure at the far end of the field. It appears to be a man, but he's not reacting to your shouts. Is he facing away? You can't see his face. Just darkness. Get closer. And still he doesn't react. that's when it hits you.

The feeling that something isn't right. This isn't a man at all. This is something other. As you slowly approach, you realise why you couldn't recognise a face. Instead of a human being, there is only a shadow. You wake up in bed,

glancing at your alarm clock. You realise it's 3.30am. Not time to get up yet, luckily. The dream has left you shaken and it takes you a moment to notice and not all is right. You may be back in the real world but something is off. You feel that sucking sensation of dread in the pit of your stomach. It is at this moment you realise you can't move. Panic instantly grips you.

You are paralysed. Your mind begins racing. what is happening all you can move are your eyes and that's when you catch sight of it in the periphery of your vision is it the shadow from your dream your eyes begin to focus

as the shadow takes a step forward no this isn't the shadow you can start to make out features it's shorter it looks kind of human The figure steps out of the darkness, stands at the foot of your bed. You can't fully make out all the details in the darkness of your room,

but you can see her clearly enough now. It's an older woman, her back bent over and crooked. She is staring at you, smiling. But not a pleasant smile. Not one that fills you with love. This smile sends a shiver down your spine

this smile makes you want to scream but you can't she slowly moves onto your bed you are trying to muster up every ounce of energy you have to move but nothing will happen she begins to crawl up your body

her eyes never diverting from yours eventually she reaches your chest and sits down, straddling her legs over you. The weight feels heavy as she presses down, heavier than a woman of her size should feel. You can see her in detail now. She looks like a woman, but something is off, something isn't quite right, like it's actually an imitation, a copy that just has the slightest error, making it stand. out from the real thing. That's when, with the grin still on her face, she places her

hands around your neck, that's when she starts to strangle you. If you're lucky, you'll notice that you're able to move. It might just be your fingertips or your foot, but life appears to be coming back to your body. If this is the case, the woman will slowly fade out of existence before your eyes, leaving you shaken, but alive. You have just met, the old hag. What I find so fascinating about the old hag and sleep paralysis in general is the consistent similarities that those who experience it report. So if you've suffered from sleep paralysis in the past, or have woken up to discover something in your room, you shouldn't have, then I'd love it if you shared your story in the comments. I have two events that I would class as experiences with this phenomena, but I'll talk about

those in a bit. The word nightmare comes from the old English term mayor, a word used to describe a creature who would torment the innocent by bringing them awful dreams. In Scandinavian folklore, the mayor was a damned woman who would visit your bedroom, sitting on your chest and taking your mind into terrifying, nightmarish places. As I said, what is incredible about the old hag is the consistency. You can look at cultures all around the world, from Canada to Nigeria, Latvia to Pakistan, Cambodia to Brazil. All have stories about demons that visit us at night while we're sleeping, paralysing their victims, and often climbing on top of them, making it difficult to breathe. What these creatures are called seems to vary from place to place.

They might be gin or a witch, the night tag, or even in some cases, Satan himself. But the descriptions of an old grinning woman pop up time and time again. On a scientific level, sleep paralysis is the explanation given to these mysterious incidents. During REM sleep, our body is effectively paralyzed so as to not cause us any harm while our dreams play out but sometimes we all awaken from this state stuck in a kind of no-man's land between sleep and awakeness the paralysis continues for a few seconds your mind and body are confused terrified by the inability to move and instantly assumes it is in danger this combined with the sudden emergence from the dream state is often said

to cause hallucinations. Many report that it starts with a sense of tingling in the body or a static electricity that you can feel in the air. The feeling of an unknown enemy in your room quickly follows. Some can only feel the sensation of a presence, but others see full-blown visualisations of something there. Our mind is effectively slipping in and out of different states of consciousness, twisting what we think of as reality. It's fascinating that what we think of as the real world can be so malleable by our brains. I've experienced sleep paralysis multiple times in my life, but only two have been accompanied by what I believe to be hallucinations. The first time I opened my eyes to see a red square lit up and floating around the room in the darkness,

before slowly fading out of existence. This incident left me feeling odd and confused. but obviously was not a particularly scary experience. The second time, though, was much more intense. That time, when I opened my eyes, I don't think I was immediately aware that I was paralysed. It felt much more like I was being held down, and what I saw was there the instant I opened my eyes.

It was a figure, sat on top of my abdomen, looking down at me. I struggled to put into words what it looked like. It was almost like it was made up of lots of smaller apparitions. Hundreds of small white smoke-like objects all joined together to form an almost humanoid-like shape. Where its eyes should be were just two holes in the smoke's form. But beyond them was darkness. A darkness that felt like the pure absence of light. While the room itself was dark,

it didn't compare to these two small areas, of pure, full blackness. Its body was wide and rounded, but its head almost came into a tip at the top. I must have only looked at it for a fraction of a second before it reacted. The hundreds of tiny wisps that made up this vision started to vibrate instantly.

It's hard to explain but I got the feeling of anger from it, like I wasn't supposed to wake up while it was doing whatever it was doing. The entity shook violently as it quickly faded away. I can move again now the pressure was off my chest. I remember being shaken, unable to fall back asleep. It was 3 30 a.m. I laid there in bed for the next few hours until my alarm sounded.

What I experienced may simply have been a sleep paralysis induced hallucination, but still, I'm pleased I've never seen it again. I wanted to bring up my personal experience. because I thought the difference between the two was interesting. One appears to be a simple trick of the mind or the eyes, whereas the other felt so much more vivid and visceral. Is this just because the hallucination of the second was much scarier and therefore produced a stronger emotional response?

While I didn't experience the common description of the old hag, the behaviour was very similar. I thought my experience with the smoke entity, for lack of a better name, or something outside of the normal visions for this phenomena. But as I've researched further, I've discovered more and more reports of shapeless forms or apparitions that don't seem to be solid. But more disturbing, the black holes where the creature's eyes should be.

This description appears to pop up in so many reported experiences with these sleep paralysis visions. I do have a third story from my childhood that, on reflection, has a potential connection to this phenomenon. But that didn't feature the hag. This was a number of figures. So I think I'll save that story for when we talk about the shadow people.

The idea that we conjure up a vision that scares us when paralysed and in a state of vulnerability is interesting. It feels like, much like reports of UFOs, the appearance of these nighttime visitors should change as culture and societal fears do. During the Salem witch trials, visits from the old hag were rife, often thought to be the witches themselves attempting to terrify the citizens.

If these were hallucinations, then this makes complete sense. In a society where people are terrified of witches, an old crone-like figure appearing out of your dreams, seems like the obvious route a sleep paralysis hallucination would take. But why is the old hag so prevalent even to this day? The old hag isn't the only sleep paralysis apparition people have seen. Reports of goblin-like creatures, shadow people, and even the infamous Hatman, have all appeared in folklore and terrifying reports from those that experience them. Many reports of alien abductions bear a striking resemblance to the reports of sleep paralysis,

as well as encounters with fairies in centuries past. you could even look back into tales of the incubus and succuous as possible examples of this phenomena. But it is the old woman that seems to appear most often, time and time again. Over the course of hundreds, if not thousands of years, people have claimed to see her. Some have suggested that these other creatures, often referred to as sleep paralysis demons, are actually just various avatars of the old hack. Maybe the old woman, smiling as she creeps into your room, isn't its true form at all. I think one of the scariest aspects of the hag is the report of its movement.

The hag is often described as moving slowly. You wake up in the middle of the night and see her, standing in your darkened doorway, with that smile plastered across her face. It knows you can't move. It knows there's no way you can defend yourself. So its movements are slow, deliberate. It doesn't creep or try to hide from you. It moves as slowly as it likes towards your bed.

Like it's enjoying the fear it creates. Like it needs the fear. Maybe the hag doesn't need to cause us any physical harm. Maybe what it wants to take from its victims is something else. Newfoundland and Canada, is home to so many experiences with the old hag, that the term hag ridden is commonly used. It is estimated that experiences with this phenomenon are so common worldwide that around one in four people have had an encounter with it. However, the statistics for Newfoundland sees that

number jump up to an astonishing 60%. The vast majority of sleep paralysis incidents are accompanied by hallucinations or visions. It appears though, there's only a very very very very much. There's only a small percentage of the world population experiences sleep paralysis regularly. So if you find yourself being visited by the old hag often, you are part of a very unlucky minority. If you are of the belief that these are paranormal events, then they may be the most commonly witnessed paranormal encounters of all time. Millions of people have experienced visits from these entities, but most have simply shrugged it off as a simple trick of the mind. It has been suggested that those who experience some form of childhood trauma or abuse are more susceptible to sleep paralysis, which is an interesting idea.

It's often said that dreams are a way for our brains to process memories, converting them from short-term into long-term memory, as well as allowing us to process emotional problems we experience. Could sleep paralysis simply be that process, but leaking out into another state of consciousness? Maybe it's simply our brains dealing with our past traumas and fears in a way we can't quite comprehend. In some cultures like that in Newfoundland, it was believed that you could hag someone, unleashing the hag on those who have wronged you. In many of these circumstances, the hag would take on the form of the person who had summoned them. As I said at the start of this episode, so many people are described as passing away peacefully in their sleep.

But maybe that isn't always true. I think the scariest case that we could connect it is also the inspiration behind Wes Cravens, a nightmare on Amstreet. Craven came across a news story in the LA Times about a child refugee from Cambodia who was terrified to sleep through fear that he would be attacked in his bed. Now, this child survived a horrific genocide. I don't think this sort of trauma-induced fear

would be that surprising, except for what happened next. The child finally did fall asleep. His parents were obviously relieved and hoped this would be the end of their sleepless nights they had all been having. That was, until they heard the screams in the middle of the night, the parents rushed to their child's bed, but it was too late. He was dead. The cause of death?

Unknown. What makes this even more terrifying was that he wasn't alone. Dozens of South Asian refugees around that time passed away in their sleep under mysterious circumstances leading to the diagnosis of sudden unexplained nocturnal death syndrome. Why this seemed to be targeting a specific ethnic group that was relocating to America however has never been explained,

though some have suggested that a strong belief in demons, coupled with experiences of trauma and moving to an alien country could have created a deadly cocktail of events for the mind to play on on twisting their fears in their sleep until their hearts could no longer take it I'm not sure what idea is scarier that this is a paranormal entity coming into our rooms at night and tormenting us or that our brain is capable of scaring us

to such a level that we instantly die the organ that we most identify as ourselves turning against its own body. In the 1800s, people in Germany were known to recite this prayer before sleep to warn off the demons that the knight could invite in. Here I am laying down to sleep. No nightmare shall plague me until they have swam through all the waters that flow upon the earth and counted all the stars that appear in the firmament of the sun at the firmament.

thus help me God, Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Amen. Maybe, just for tonight, it might be worth giving it a try, unless that is, you are curious enough to let the Nighthack come and visit you. The bell rang on the gate of the Allsop's family home at 8.45pm, February 20th, 1838. unusual to have a visitor this late, the family all glanced at one another. Eighteen-year-old Jane stood up apprehensively. She stepped through the front door, the bitter cold of the night, stinging her skin. Slowly, she walked the short path to her front gate. The roads and lanes around this small village, just to the east of London, had long been cloaked in darkness since the winter sun had set hours ago.

In the dinner the lane, she could just about make out a tall man standing there, wrapped up in a large coat. Even from a distance, Jane could sense his agitation. Jane could just about make out an odd shape around his head, protruding from the cloak, a hat perhaps. Jane cautiously asked him, what was the matter? I'm a policeman, the darkened figure, shouted sharply. For God's sake, bring me.

be a light, for we have caught Spring Hill Jack here in the lane. A shiver shot down Jane's spine. She knew the name Spring Hill Jack. Everyone knew the name Spring Hill Jack. His name had been spoken in whispers between children, the subject of dark tales late at night in taverns, a warning between servants who were tasked with answering the door. Jane raced back into the house and without first consulting her family, grabbed a candle. and darted back out into the darkness. Jane opened the gate and handed the man the candle. She was instantly hit by the feeling that something was wrong.

The man stood still for a moment, before dropping his cloak to the ground. He moved the candle to his chest, illuminating his hideously ugly face, pale pointed features, eyes glowing red, and what appeared to be a helmet upon his head. Jane screamed in terror. She instinctively knew that this was the demon who had been tormenting so many. But before she could turn and run, the ghoul attacked, stunning her by shooting blue flames from his mouth. Jack grabbed at Jane's clothes. They ripped as she felt what seemed to be cold metallic claws scratching at her skin. Jack grabbed her by the head, but Jane was able to get free.

Jane ran, screeching for help as she clumsily ran up. the path. She reached the steps, but was no match for the speed of Jack, who pinned her to the ground, his metallic claws slashing at her clothes and threw to her delicate skin. Jane's younger sister opened the door, but was frozen to the spot when Jack glanced up at her in a rage, his red eyes piercing into young Mary Orsop's soul as he ripped out chunks of Jane's hair. Luckily, Jane's older sister Sarah appeared moments later and did not hesitate to pull Jane from Jack's clutches before slamming shut the front door. But Jack didn't give up so easily. He pounded on the door, scratching with his claws to try and get at his prey. The family rushed upstairs and began shouting from the windows for help. Jack, seemingly realizing the game was up, glanced up one thing.

final time at Jane before disappearing into the darkness. His devilish chuckle growing distant as he vanished down the lane. The incident at the Allsop's family home is the most detailed account of any experience with the legend of Spring Hill Jack. Multiple witnesses were able to back up the story and in the following weeks police launched a serious investigation into the incident. But it wasn't the first reported incident of Spring Hill Jack. For months, Reports around the outskirts of London had been popping up that something was terrorising the public. What that something was depended on the story. Some spoke of a bear-like creature.

Others a ghost. Some thought the devil himself had come to Victorian England. Others claimed that these incidents were nothing more than the work of upper-class pranksters. Shapeshifting demon? Bored rich men? Urban legend? Or could Jack have a much more simple but arguably darker explanation.

It's time to dim the lights and get comfortable. This is the fascinating tale of Spring Hill Jack. I remember being in primary school, maybe around 9 or 10 years old, and reading a short piece in a book about Spring Hill Jack. The book, aimed at children, left out some of the darker aspects of Jack's story. But as far as I can remember, this was the first 40-esque story. that truly fascinated me. The idea that this being wasn't somewhere in the middle of the forest

halfway around the world. Here was the story of something unexplained that happened within an hour of where I lived. The idea of this man, terrifying the instant, shooting out fire as he escaped the police, leaping over rooftops, and vanishing into the night, set my imagination ablaze.

Talking about Spring Hill Jack is difficult. Records of the time weren't the best. The tales of Jack were mostly just conversations, passed between locals nearly 200 years ago. Much of what may have happened then is likely lost to time. What makes the stories about Spring Hill Jack so interesting is that they are reported over such a large period of time in a variety of locations. Police, soldiers, prostitutes, servants, the rich, the poor, it didn't matter who you were. there was a chance that Spring Hill Jack could come for you. There are stories dating back as far as the early 1800s that describe encounters that bear a resemblance to the widely recognised characteristics of Jack,

but seemingly the first officially reported sighting of the man who would come to be known as Spring Hill Jack dates back to October 1837. Mary Stevens was walking home alone late one evening through Clapham Common. As she passed a darker dally, a figure leapt out in front of her path. He grabbed hold of Mary and began forcing kisses on her, clawing at her clothes as he did. When he touched her skin, she didn't feel the normal warmth of a human body. She described her hands as claws that were cold and clammy as those of a corpse. Mary screamed for help, and luckily several locals heard her and came rushing to her aid. seeing the crowd headed his way, Jack supposedly leapt off into the night, disappearing in a flash.

The following day in the same area, someone leapt out in front of a coach, causing the coach to crash and the driver to be seriously injured. Witnesses claimed the man who had jumped out in front of the coach ran off, cackling with laughter. Whilst this incident would have been a strange sight to see on the streets of London, It was the escape that really started Jack's legend. The witnesses claim they saw the strange man escape by leaping over a nine-foot wall, still laughing as he vanished into the distance. The early reports of Spring Hill Jack really varied in their descriptions. Famously, witnesses claimed to see a ghost, a bear,

or most commonly, a figure that they described as a devil. But soon the descriptions of Jack began to become more consistent. clawed hands or metallic knives for fingers were often described, glowing red eyes, a long black cloak. More interestingly, he was said to wear a helmet and a tight white oil skin under his cloak. The thing that really set Jack apart from being some troublemaking lunatic was the more fantastical, but fascinatingly consistent descriptions of his abilities. He was able to leap to incredible heights, jumping over gates and across roosting, rooftops with ease. Even more terrifyingly, many witnesses spoke about his ability to breathe out

blue and white flames. Just a few months later, sightings of Spring Hill Jack were becoming so common around London that the Lord Mayor himself, Sir John Cowan, brought the topic up at an official public session. He had received a letter from a resident in Peckham that suggested this might be the work of a group of bored rich pranksters. The Lord Mayor's statement, read as follows. It appears that some individuals of, as this writer believes, the highest ranks of life, have laid a wager with a mischievous and full-hardy companion, that he does not take upon himself the task of visiting many of the villages near London, in three different disguises, a ghost, a bear, and a devil, and moreover, that he will not

enter a gentleman's garden for the purpose of alarming the inmates of the house. The wager has however been accepted, and the unmanly villain has succeeded in depriving seven ladies of their senses, two of whom are not likely to recover, but to become burdens to their family. At one house, the man rang the bell, and on the servant coming to open the door, this worst and brute stood in no less dreadful figure than a spectre clad most perfectly. The consequence was that the poor girl immediately swooned, and has never from that moment been in the world. her senses. The affair has now been going on for some time, and strange to say, the papers are still silent on the subject. When the Lord Mayor had finished reading this letter, he stated that he was

sceptical of the whole thing. But a member of the audience that was present confirmed the servant girls around the city had been telling dreadful tales of this ghost or devil. But the Lord Mayor dodged responsibility for Jack's escapades. Most of the initial reports were happening outside the boundaries of London, and were therefore not his concern. The Lord Mayor's statement gave Jack's story the spark that it needed, and soon the papers were reporting on the matter. Letters started pouring in from all around London, complaining about the devil and his wicked pranks. Claims of young women frightened into dangerous fits or left with physical wounds after an attack from Jack. Police officers have reported being slapped by Jack while on patrol. Others had claimed to shoot to him,

but to no avail. Spring Hill Jack was always able to leap away as quickly as it would appear. Children claimed to see him dancing in the moonlight outside the Royal Palace, before disappearing over the top of a large wall. There were even reports of women being frightened to death after an encounter with Jack. Public interest in Jack was growing fast, but it was the next two incidents that turned him into a household name. First, there was the attack on Jane Alsop that I did discussed at the start of the episode. Jane's father offered up a reward for information about Jack, but nothing came of it. Interestingly, this attack is said to have taken place at 8.45 in the evening. Attacks were often reported as happening between 8pm and 9pm. On the wintry streets of

Victorian London, much of the city would have been cloaked in darkness, making it easy for Jack to move around undetected. But another interesting note is this is the same time that police officers would swap over their shifts, meaning they were less likely to be on the streets. The second notable incident happened to 18-year-old Lucy Scales and her sister. Around half-eight in the evening, the pair walked through Green Dragon Alley when Lucy saw someone in a cloak, standing at the edge of the alleyway. When she got close enough, the figure spun round, and instantly splurted blue flames into her face. Lucy collapsed and started to have a seizure on the spot.

Lucy's sister rushed over to help her. Jack simply turned and walked away, not saying a word. Another interesting detail is that Lucy's sister claimed the assailant was carrying a lantern that was very similar to what the police would use while patrolling the streets. From this point on, stories of Spring Hill Jack began spreading like wildfire. People began to create their own Spring Hill Jack hoaxes and pranks, making it nearly impossible for the authorities to launch any serious investigations into the incidents. The area that the reports were coming from grew as well. By May, tales of Jack were spreading all throughout the South East. By June, he was apparently causing havoc all around the country.

Was Jack really behind all this chaos? Were there multiple people behind the Spring Hill Jack attacks? But was this simply a case of mass hysteria and an urban legend spawning before the eyes of an entire country? Looking back, specifically on the earlier tales of Springfield Jack, it's hard not to think that there could be a much more human, but equally disturbing explanation for what was happening here. Many of the descriptions of Jack's attacks saw him groping and tearing at the clothes with his female victims, while male encounters seem to demonstrate pure acts. of physical aggression. It is seemingly very possible that these attacks were examples of sexual assault. That Spring Hill Jack was nothing more than an unhinged rapist, running around London, attacking lone women. Victorian society was famously very repressed. Victims of sexual assault would in many cases not have been treated well, and it would have been seen as a great source of

shame for many of the women. This was a time when a woman out alone on the streets at night would have raised questions. People would not speak of sex in public, so attempting to explain a false sexual encounter to authorities would have been an uncomfortable experience, to say the least. Could this explain the claims of severe trauma that many of his victims seem to demonstrate? Were there more supernatural claims about Jack, a way of making the events seem more wildly out of the control of any human being, so as to avoid any possibility of victim blaming, something that would have been rife at the time. As the years progressed, the stories of Spring Hill Jack grew wilder.

There were even reports of Jack shooting fireballs from his hand at police as he leapt across rooftops to evade them. In 1842, police in Suffolk reported they had captured Jack, only for him to mysteriously vanish from his cell. In 1845, it was claimed that the murder of a prostitute was the victim of Jack. He appeared, blew his trademark blue flames into her face, and shoved her off a bridge. Although straight-up murder of this nature didn't seem to fit his style. It seems the chances of others' crimes being blamed on Jack during this time was high. Decades later, in the 1870s, a string of attacks from a Spring Hill Jack-like entity were reported by the British military. Jack would appear in the darkness at outposts and slap or slash at the unsuspecting soldiers

before disappearing off into the darkness with his wicked cackle. This happened so frequently that soldiers even began firing at Jack, but were never able to hit their target. Reports continued well into the early 20th century. Jack was reported to be hunting the streets of Liverpool now, but was even reported in the United States, although there were some notable differences. Instead of breathing fire, these more recent claims reported that Jack had a glowing blue light in his chest, but much of his behaviour remained the same. Sporadic reports of Spring Hill Jack continued for over a century after his initial appearance, although they became less and less common.

Jack blurs the lines between a supernatural entity and a vile criminal. The commonly accepted explanation of this being the work of pranksters really doesn't seem to hold up. Purely because of the extreme nature of some of the attacks. The physical and more often mental injuries inflicted on Jack's victims suggest something much more mean-spirited than a simple. prank. Whatever Spring Hill Jack was, his legacy will remain as an icon of a period in British history. Human, bear, ghost, or the devil himself. We may never know. But I know I certainly wouldn't want to have run into Spring Hill Jack on the dark streets of Victoria and London.

I thought I'd start tonight with a case that while it's still very chilling, offers us a much more comforting ghost story than some of the darker experiences we often cover here. So let's get started with the first case. Back in 2009, my dad was on holiday in Greece. While he was there, he kept finding piles of 47 little gemstones in his hotel bed. He would put them to one side trying to explain it away as the housekeeper or similar. This continued happening after he got home from holiday, however. Every day, he would end up finding 47 beads and gems in his bed. Fast forward a few months, and he had a routine chest x-ray, which found lung cancer.

Further investigation found it in his spine and lymph system, so he was a terminal case. The 47 beads and gems still continued. Now when I visited, I would hear someone walking upstairs. I would go and look and there would be a fresh pile of gems and beads on his bed. I spoke to it and asked it to put a bead on my wallet if it was there to comfort and look after my dad. A bead was left on my wallet that night. This went on for three years. I kept asking it to look after my old man.

and a bead would be left to show it had heard me. The last nine months got more intense though. My aunt was visiting and was awoken by a woman weeping in the corner of the room. She was so scared she couldn't move, so she closed her eyes, but it got louder and louder until she felt the hair touch her cheek and the sobbing right in her ear. and it left as quickly as it arrived. The same night, I had a woman appear in my bedroom.

I thought it was my wife, until I looked down and saw she was asleep in bed. Again, it disappeared as quickly as it arrived. My old man started to get worse, but the beads was still coming. One night a few months later, I had a vivid dream of a man in the bright-lit room, who told me that I needed to stop asking them for help. They had done all they could, and other things were starting to notice me. That morning I woke up with beads on my wallet, as if to confirm what I had dreamed. The night before my dead passed, I had two pink heart-shaped stones left on my wallet.

After that, I had a couple more single stones left, and in one occasion where the woman I had seen by my bed was coming through again, I told it it had to leave. There was the sound of heavy feet running down the hall and stairs. Then the fire alarms in the house went off at the same time. That was the end of it. I love encounters that take place on dark roads. Those incidents where you aren't too sure of your eyes are playing tricks on you,

or if you are witnessing something that shouldn't be possible. I'm thinking about doing an entire video of stories about haunted roads. If that's something you're interested in, then please let me know in the comments below. But for now, let's get into our next case. I'll tell you a story. This is something I witnessed, not experienced. So I live in a rural area, a residential zone far away from the city. I've lived here for 26 years now.

26 years now. To get to the place, you need to follow through a very long road out of the city into the rural area. Not the roads we see in movies, but a normal bumpy, cemented road with a lot of tight turns near the end of it. So more or less 24 years ago, if I remember correctly. Right in the last turn of this road, a biker got run over by one of the residents. The guy was drunk and invaded to the other lane, killing the guy from the bike on the spot. People left across there for a couple of weeks, but eventually it was removed. Now I always come back home from work at night, and usually there's one or two cars in front of me the whole way.

That's people coming home too. This particular day there was a car in front of me the whole way that I recognised from one of the families that had moved into the area more or less three years ago. It was the older daughter of the couple. She was 19 at the time, so everything was normal all the way, until that last turn where the guy died. A girl in front of me was driving fine until eventually she hit the brakes hard in the middle of the road and tossed the car full blast into the other lane.

Like she was dodging something, almost hitting into a tree. I stopped my car and ran to her car to ask if everything was okay. The poor girl was frozen solid, panicking in the car with tears in her eyes, asking if she had run him over. The moment she said that it hit me like a hammer right in the guts. Even more because there was absolutely nothing on the road. I didn't want to make things worse, so I just said, no, I saw the dog running away. We just stood there for a couple of minutes while she explained to me there was a man in the street and she had tried to dodge him. I kept telling her that since there was no light on the road, she must have been confused and that she could just be tired and that it was a dog.

Until eventually she calmed down and I escorted her to her home. The next morning her dad came to my door and asked me about what happened. I explained to him what she had said and what happened up there so long ago. The looking at man's eyes spoke more than anything you could say to me. I don't know if he told her what I told him, but one thing is clear to me. That girl saw the ghost of the guy that died there 24 years ago in the exact same spot. Well, at least that's what I believe. I'm going to take a visit to a house with hundreds of years of history behind it.

Be sure to check out the description if you want to learn more about this location. The witness has a story to share about the Tilden House. My family had a house built along with two other families on an extremely old farm. All three families experienced the same paranormal stuff and no one told each other for a couple of years. It was three new houses in the back and the original farmhouse up front. In the five years I lived there, three families lived in the farmhouse because no one could stand it. It was called Sam Tilden Farm, and it was built on an old native lands a very long time ago.

They closed it down after Sam killed himself. I guess there were a number of tragedies on the farm, and Sam may have drunk himself into insanity. When it came to the farmhouse, there were a bunch of issues that kept families from staying. The barn light had to stay on at dusk, or stuff would happen, like out of a movie. Pictures falling off walls, glass breaking, doors slamming. The one story I remember was that the barn light died while they're away. When they got back, all the pictures in the hallway fell down at once. Seems a little far-fetched, but these people didn't.

even last a year. At the new houses you could hear a tapping from the attics. It was really loud and it sounded like someone tapping their foot. I forgot who figured it out but someone decided to yell, Sam, stop tapping. And it would stop. Sometimes you could hear what sounded like large animals running up and down the stairs, but faster than a large animal would be able to run. They'd go up, down, up, down, up, down. A few people said they heard what sounded like 20 brooms all falling and hitting the hardwood at once. Female voices and singing from the garages. The girl in the middle house asked why my sister was out in the front yard in the middle of the night,

in a white nightgown, but we kind of think she was full of shit. Who knows? There was a bunch of shit I don't really recall. Now that I'm thinking, there was a Tilden tombstone inside the barn for some reason. Not sure if that's just normal. I guess the Tildens were among the first settlers in the area. Oh, we also had a basin of sorts in the backyard. My mum started digging through it, and she found lots of pottery and arrowheads.

All Native American. I guess it was a native site until the end of the 1600s, it sounds like. I was a non-believer for a long time, but eventually it got to be too much, and I couldn't deny it anymore. A brief visit from a lost soul. Eleven years ago, during my brother's first deployment overseas, I was sitting in my living room and I looked down the hall and saw someone standing there. About the same time, I saw a black mark on my arm and glanced down. It was gone. And when I looked up, so was the person.

My dad came home later and told me that a guy in my brother's units was killed. He showed me the guy's picture, and I immediately knew it was him. That's not my only story, but it's the first one I usually think about. The next witness has apparently had a number of paranormal encounters throughout their life, so we may be hearing more stories from them in the future. But for now, we're taking a trip. to Lake George. I moved to upstate New York in 2000, specifically Lake George.

History buffs know this as an important area during the French and Indian War, France versus Britain using natives as soldiers and cadden fodder. Larson and the Mexicans took place around here as a reference. There is one fort at the end of each lake. One is famous for a turning point in the war, and the other is infamous for horrific slothills. slaughter of surrendered British troops by natives who did not agree with the gentleman's agreement of surrender. This fort is literally the centre of the village of Lake George, located on Battlefield Park and next to a road named Bloody Pond.

There's a separate story on this name and it's definitely earned. So it's an intense area for sure. Now to me, my great-grandfather walked property, developing a marina on Lake George in 1908. I moved to this property with my family to run our business in 2000. The property is literally between Fort William Henry and Bloody Pond Road. They are both in visual sights of our house and docks. My first supernatural experience of the property, it was my senior year of high school.

I was in the upstairs living room at the main house and out the windows on the right, about 50 feet away is another house for our family we called the Crawford House. But when my aunt passed in 1975, my grandmother walked out of the house and locked it, never to go back. No joke, this house sat untouched until 2002 when we decided to reopen the house. The dirty dishes were still in the sink and there was mail on the table from 1975. It was a fucking trip for my teenage brain, and I wish I knew how much cool shit she had. Anyway, fast forward to 2003. I'm 17 years old and watching a movie with my 24-year-old big brother upstairs in the main house.

When I look out and see a light on upstairs in the other house. We had just begun the long process of going through every single item in this three-story house about a month before. It immediately gave me a freaky and uncomfortable feeling, but I just assumed it was a reflection from a light on our house. I didn't say anything to my brother, but I kept glancing at it with confusion and fear for like five minutes. Suddenly, my brother yells out. Why the fuck is there a light on upstairs in the Crawford house?

I was like no way. I thought I was seeing things, but it is in stupe. the house right? He agreed and the moment we both looked out the windows again. It wasn't there. We were confused and talking shit about it being a ghost from our family or maybe a spirit from the Mohawk tribe. When two minutes later it comes on again so he says we should go check it out in case someone broke in but I was not fucking going and I said let them take whatever they want. That shit was a lamp, not a flashlight. And oh yeah, the

goddamn power to this place wasn't set up. It literally wasn't on the grid for the town of newer systems because she shut the place off in 1975. He made me go. Mean Big Brother tactics. We enter the closed and locked front door into a silent pitch black house. We make our way through the open and lay out around a corner and into the common room when we get to the first step of staircase, about to go up, and a door upstairs slammed shut. I immediately nope and start heading for the front door. Now I didn't run but I was definitely moving quick and as I get to the doorway of the same door we came in from I hear the clear voice of a man in my left ear say, Take your leave.

I fucking scream and run the remaining two feet out the door. I turn around to see my brother walk from all the way around the corner into the open space towards me at the door. There is no way it could have been him from where he was. So he told me to stay outside and he went through the house alone. but he found nothing and no one he said he didn't hear a voice like me but he was terrified

as it took ten minutes to search each room and closet and space where someone could hide let's wrap up tonight with a good old-fashioned haunting this happened to a friend of mine quite a long time ago even before WhatsApp was invented and smartphones was still a rarity the time when we were still charged a few cents just to send an SMS Anyway, this friend will call him Jay. He was a fresh grad and he got a job offer at a college town.

He didn't know anyone in his town. He looked up ads for a room to rent and found one in an apartment block. The majority of the apartments in the block were rented by students. Even his neighbours were students. His apartment had three bedrooms and two bathrooms and he got the master room with an attached bathroom. His housemates were four undergrad students, but he only dealt with one of them,

whom we should call, R. He paid all the rent and bills through R. He wasn't close with the others, but just enough to remember their names, small talk here and there. In the second month, Jay was assigned to the night shift,

12 a.m. to 12 p.m., with three off days per week. So most of the time he just came home straight to his room and slept all day. Didn't even have lunch at the house. And on the three days off, he went back to his hometown. So he rarely stepped out of his room, but he knew his housemates were still around because he can still hear the little sounds they made.

The sound of water running from the shower outside. Someone cooking in the kitchen. people talking and watching TV in the living room. He was too tired to mingle with them and his housemates didn't seem to care. The rent was due on the first day of the month and he paid in cash to R. So he messaged R and asked if they can meet up at the house. But then R told him this. R and the rest of his housemates already moved out on the second week of the previous month.

Coincidentally when Jay started its 12-hour night shifts, the house was empty all this time. For some reason, they were in a hurry to move out. They thought, well, maybe the landlord would inform Jay, and R completely forgot about Jay. Jay was in disbelief. Ar was surprised. Jay told him what he had heard in the house. R told him that weird things happened to them. and what happened in the night that they decided to leave the house

really broke their last straws. R and his friends even lost their rent deposits but they didn't care. R didn't elaborate further but he wanted Jade to move out as quickly as possible for Jade did that. He stayed in a cheap motel for a week before he found another place to stay. The first shot rang around the house

around 3 a.m. on Wednesday November the 13th, 1974. There were seven people in the house, six of whom were tucked up in their beds, cozy, warm, and safe. For me, the most chilling aspect of the entire story that we're covering tonight is this very moment. A Marlin rifle is fired, an exceptionally loud gun,

nine times over the next 15 minutes. No neighbours hear a thing on this quiet early winter night. But more disturbingly, neither did anyone in this house. Six people were shot. If the official story is to be believed, not one of them got up. They laid in their beds and one by one waited for death to visit them. This bizarre act of brutal violence would lead to one of the most infamous real life horror stories of all time. Tonight we're going deep into the true story of the Amateurville

horror. I know the Amityville story has been done to death, but I just couldn't resist revisiting it. For myself, and I'm sure many of you out there, Amateurville is the haunted house story. It's the first incident of a haunted house I remember reading about when I was a child, and was likely one of the first supernatural stories I'd really come across. I remember catching part. I remember catching part. parts of one of the awful later films on TV and it terrifying me. I remember how even friends and family members who had no interest in this kind of thing knew what you meant when you said Amityville. It's more ingrained in popular culture than almost any example of the paranormal I can think of.

We're going to be splitting this story into four parts. The horrific murder of the Defeo family as they slept in their beds and the resulting trial. In part two, we'll go over the infamous 28-day stay of the house's new owners. Then we'll take a look at the investigations into the reported paranormal encounters before finally talking about the controversies of the entire case and try to pin down what actually happened in its now iconic house. So let's go back to that night in November 1974. We're going to go with the official events of what happened that night.

but rest assured we will be talking about the many different accounts. Rodney Defeo Jr., or Butch as he was known, was the oldest of five children. To say he was a troubled young man was an understatement, and it speaks volumes that after the story of what happened came out, no one in the community was seemingly surprised. His family lived at 112 Ocean Avenue, Amateurville, a beautiful waterside village, on the south of shore of Long Island. It appears that at around 3 a.m. in the morning, Ronnie Jr. walked into his parents' bedroom and then shot both his father, Ronnie Defeo Sr., age 43, and his mother, Luis Defeo, 42, firing at them both twice, before then heading to the bedrooms of his siblings.

His brother's John and Mark, aged 9 and 10, respectively. His younger sister Alison, 13, before finally heading up to the top of the house and entering his sister Dawn's room, aged 18. All the bodies were found, faced down in their beds, as though they hadn't moved an inch, as Ronnie walked around the house, executing his family, one by one. No neighbours reported any kind of disturbance, although one did claim to have heard at the Fayo's pet dog barking around the time of the murders, but they did not hear a single gunshot. It's reported that both Alison and Louise appeared to have at least woken up before they died. However, the official evidence suggests that none of the bodies were moved post-mortem, despite the appearance that they have been placed in their beds, almost deliberately.

6.30 p.m. that evening, Ronnie Defeo Jr. runs into Henry's bar, just a block away from his family home and starts shouting that his parents have been shot. He gathers a group of guys and they head to the house to discover the grisly scene. It didn't take long for the police to arrive and they moved Ronnie Jr. away for both his safety and to ask him questions. This is when the stories began. had a lot of stories. He told the police that the killings had been carried out by a mob hitman. Connections between the mob and the family had long been the talk of rumours in the community. Ronnie Jr. said an old associate of his father's, by the name of Louis Felini, was behind the killings,

and had threatened to murder his father after a falling out some years earlier. Ronnie Jr. claimed he hadn't been there for dinner earlier that evening, as he was sick of his mother. as poor cooking, a detail that didn't really hold much water. Once it became evident, the family had been killed some 14 hours earlier. After 12 hours of interrogation, it all came spilling out of Ronnie Jr. He spoke about his hatred for his family, how Ronnie Sr. had abused him for years, how he hated his family. He referred to his younger brothers, as pigs. The previous or sat in his basement watching the 1969 film Castle Keep. He decided he had had enough.

He went to his parents' bedroom and shot them both in their sleep. Seemingly his intention had only been to kill his parents. But after that first act of violence, he couldn't stop himself. In a frenzy he stalked from room to room, executing each and every one of his family members. A fact that Ronnie Jr. has never been able to explain. No one was surprised by this turn of events. Ronnie Jr. had been threatening to murder his parents for years, even leading to a psychologist warning Ronnie's mother

that they needed to have him committed before he finally acted. Ronnie Jr. had been the victim of his father's abuse for years and that combined with his heavy use of heroin, acid and speed took a source of severe toll on his mental health, until one day he just decided that he couldn't take it anymore. Then the court case began, and as did Ronnie's many, many different versions of events. Ronnie Jr. seemingly decided he would try to persuade the court, he was insane, and therefore not responsible for his actions. This could explain the conflicting and downright strange stories that Ronnie came up with. However,

These conflicting stories continue to grow and spiral up until his death in 2021. Among his many claims over the years, he said that he was sat in the basement watching TV when he overheard his family plotting to kill him, and he decided to murder them first. He also claimed his sister Dawn had in fact killed his father, and that his mother had killed his siblings before he turned the gun on her. He claimed he drugged his family, which would explain why they were all found in their beds in such a strange manner. However, there were no drugs found in their systems. He's claimed that his sister and a number of other assailants assisted him in the murders.

He's claimed he heard voices that told him to kill them, and even that a female demon in a hood with black hands brought him the rifle to do the deed. Ronnie's wild stories didn't help though. A court psychiatrist diagnosed him with antisocial personality disorder and he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life behind bars. Chapter 2 The Haunting Just two weeks had passed when a new family arrived at 112 Ocean Avenue

ready to start a new life. George and Kathy Lutz looked up at their new home that they had just paid $88,000 for. They knew the history of the house, and had spoken to their family about it, declaring themselves as not a superstitious bunch. The family couldn't turn down such a beautiful home, and at such a still, and decided that the unfortunate history was worth it. They entered their new home to discover it still full of the Defeo's belongings, all except for the mattresses that were missing from each bed. What followed are 28 days that would become one of the most infamous hauntings of all time. The information in this section is all taken from Jay Anson's best-selling novel about the Lutz's experience,

as well as from interviews with George and Kathy. Much like the murders themselves, there are a lot of conflicting stories on what exactly happened here. But we'll get to that later. The strange activity began almost immediately. In the first hour of being there, the Lutz's dog was chained up to a tree in the garden. For seemingly no reason, the dog suddenly decided to leap over the gate, his chain still attached to the tree, hanging itself over the fence by its neck, as the family rushed to save it.

One of George's friends suggested that due to the history of the house, they should ask a Catholic priest to come and bless it, thinking they had nothing to lose, George agreed, and shortly after they moved in, a priest came to clear the house of any residing spirits, and maybe remaining there. The house unsettled the priest from the moment he laid eyes on it, but it was only once he entered the upstairs bedroom, the room where Dawn had slept, that he was overcome with a true sense of dread. He asked the Lutz what they were planning to do with this room, and they stated, it was to become a sewing room. The priest declared that should be fine, but in his opinion, no one should ever sleep in this room. The incident with the priest suddenly became more extreme, when he felt what he claimed was a slap across the face, before hearing a deep voice,

telling him to get out. Later after getting home, it was reported that he was covered in and boils all over his hands. Kathy claimed that early on she felt a presence embracing her from behind. She wasn't sure why, but she instinctively felt that it was a woman, and that the embrace was supposed to be comforting, rather than threatening. She often smelled the woman's perfume around the house. The Lutz's youngest daughter suddenly started talking to an imaginary friend called Jody. She claimed that Jody was a pig with glowing red eyes that would watch over her through her window as she slept.

Jody told their daughter that they would always live there. Both George and Kathy claimed to have seen those red eyes peering through windows at night. In December, on a snowy night, the family once again saw Jody's glowing red eyes, watching through the window as they watched TV. George ran outside to investigate and found hoof prints. in the snow. George also discovered a hidden room that was not on any of the floor plans of the house.

Hidden in the basement, the room was painted red, and they claimed it had a strong stench of human feces inside. One of the more subtle moments among the grander examples of haunting phenomena is one that I find most chilling. Over the weeks that the family stayed in the house,

the children began to sleep on their stomachs, something they hadn't done before. All of this is strange, but it seems George was the focus of whatever was residing in the house. He started to become obsessed with fire, insisting that he needed to keep the fire burning in the living room. He would spend hours out back chopping wood,

seemingly due to the fact that since he was in the house, He was constantly cold, something the rest of the family were not experiencing. George would hear sounds at night. It would range from footsteps to screams, and even loud music being played from multiple sources, all at odds with each other. But he could never find the source of any of these nocturnal noises. One night he tripped over a lion ornament in the living room.

And when he looked down at his house, looked down at his leg, he saw what appeared to be bite marks. While Kathy may have felt a kind embrace, and their daughter was making friends, the house was having a dark effect on George. He became increasingly irritable and aggressive with his family. His personal hygiene became considerably worse, and he began to wake up every night at 3.15 a.m., the same time the Defeo murders. were said to have taken place. The activity grew more and more extreme as time went on.

Their possessions would be covered in what appeared to be strange black mould. Green slime would ooze from the ceiling, dripping down to the carpet below. Swarms of insects, most notably flies, would be in the room Dawn once slept in, but there seemed to be no way to get rid of them. Then the activity became more violent. Covered doors would be slammed. doors broken off their hinges. The banister rail on the stairs was found ripped off.

In one incident, an open window suddenly slammed shut, trapping one of the children's fingers in it. It came to a head a little after a month of moving into the home. George woke up in the middle of the night once again, but this time he couldn't move. His bed shaking from side to side, as if it was being lifted, as if it was being lifted over and over by some unseen force. He then saw Cathy levitating across the bed.

Her face switching to that of an old woman before his very eyes. What happened after that is unknown. The Lutz family always refused to talk about what happened, that final night in the house. A secret that both George and Kathy took to their grave Since this is one of the most well-documented paranormal cases of all time It really makes you wonder what happened It was so bad

They could never bring themselves to talk about it Whatever happened the family left the next morning Leaving their belongings behind And never returning Before we jump into the investigation, I noticed something odd. Although I knew the story of the amateur horror, it'd been a long time since I'd read the details. I started writing this video on the 13th of November, just a fun coincidence that I didn't notice when I sat down to create the video. However, to add to it, the same night I started writing this episode, the app I used to track my sleep, claims I was awake.

around 3.15 a.m. for 20 minutes. I have no memory of this. Chapter 3. The Investigation. Two months later, the Lott story was beginning to get a lot of attention. A reporter decided to pull together a team of psychic researchers and spend the night in the home. And it just so happened they were able to get two of the most notable paranormal investigators of all time, Ed and Lorraine Warren, a controversial pair that we have covered. on the tape library in the past. George Lutz met with the warrants to give him the keys to the house, but he refused to go any closer than a restaurant four blocks away. Ed tried to ask George more about what had happened there. But George refused to talk, Ed suggesting that he appeared to still be too shaken to want to talk about it, especially what had happened on the final night. The investigators were all shocked by what they saw when they entered the house.

It felt like a ghost ship. All of the lots of belongings were still there. Dirty dishes sat in the sink. Their brand new boat sat in the boathouse. George hadn't even come back for his custom motorcycles that were kept in the garage. When entering the house, both of the Warren's claim they were hit with overwhelming sensations. In an interview of the pair, Ed makes it very clear that he is not clairvoyant. Nor is he sensitive to the spirit world.

However, he said the second he stepped inside the house, it reeked of death. The pair went in separate directions. Ed down to the basement, Lorraine upstairs to the bedrooms. Both claimed to be hit with the strange sensation of powerful rushing water, falling on them. In the basement, Ed encountered what he described as a powerful demonic force. while Lorraine saw in her mind's eye the image of bodies all lined up on the floor of the sewing room. Supposedly the bodies of the Defeitos before the coroner took them away. The warrants have shared many photos from the investigation.

One of them appears to show a number of religious statues in the back garden. Apparently these predate the Lutz is moving in. The statues all come from St Joseph's Shrine in Montres. Ronnie Defeo Sr. had travelled to Montreal just six months before his murder. But he didn't return alone. He came back with these statues, as well as a priest who was supposedly an exorcist. When asked why Ronnier brought an exorcist to the house, he simply said, I've got a devil on my back. The warrants weren't the only paranormal researchers and psychics that were brought to the house that night. All of those that partook and the investigation. Claims to have experiences in the house ranging from feelings of intense terror Heart palpitations all the way up to communicating with spirits and even visions of an Indian chief The group conducted a seance during which Lorraine Warren proclaimed that there was an evil in this house from the bowels of the earth They claimed that this evil had been there long before the murders

It's worth checking out interviews with the investigators if you want to hear further about the many experiences they had. But I really wanted to highlight what I think is, regardless of your beliefs. One of the creepiest events to take place during the entire Ammitville saga. A number of cameras were set up around the house that were placed on automatic timers. These cameras were sets they would take a photo every five minutes. with various people walking about and hours worth of photos that seemed to show nothing in particular.

Most of the photos were filed away and not investigated much further. However, some years later, a young secretary was going through the Warren's Library of Photos from the Amityville investigation. She was pregnant and said every time she got to one specific photo in the set, her baby would kick.

She looked at the photo. There's the same doorways at the top of the stairs she had already seen a dozen times. That was until she noticed something odd in the bottom corner. There, looking from the doorway, appeared to be a young boy. His eyes glowing, staring directly into the camera. Before we delve into the controversies around this case, and believe me, there are many.

I just wanted to thank you for what. all the way through to the final part. If you've enjoyed this video, I have lots more on the way. In the coming weeks, I'm going to be sharing some of the true paranormal encounters that people have shared with me. Visiting a house that would give Amateur a run for its money, and taking a deep dive into one of the greatest paranormal investigation shows of all time. So if you don't want to miss out, then please click subscribe and turn on notifications, so you never miss another entry into the tape library.

Chapter 4 The Controversy The Haunting at Amityerville has ignited my imagination, as it has for many others for decades now. Everything about this story feels like it's ripped straight from a horror movie, and as much as I want this whole thing to be true, there are a lot of inconsistencies that need to be addressed. First, let's take a look at the crime itself. In the story of his life, Ronnie Jr. is the very good. definition of an unreliable narrator. Picking holes in Ronnie's various accounts of the murders would be a video in and of itself just because of the sheer number of different stories he has told

over the years. A number of people have interviewed Ronnie and a book on the murders was written in the early 2000s that suggests Dawn was an integral part of the murders. In some versions of the story she convinced Ronnie to do it. In others she carried up the murders herself. In It's also been suggested that Ronnie committed the murder along with Dawn and two others. There was evidence found on Dawn's body that suggests she may have fired a gun that night. Ronnie claimed that the plan was just to kill their parents. But Dawn had gone crazy and started shooting the kids. Ronnie tried to get the gun off her, killed her by a mistake.

On the night of his arrest, supposedly Ronnie's grandfather was overheard telling his grandson that he didn't want to hear any more about his sister and that he was going to take the blame for this. There have also been numerous rumours over the years that Dawn and Ronnie Jr. were extremely close and may have even had an incestuous relationship. To add to the version of events that seems to implicate Dawn Defeo, supposedly the family had been involved in something rather shady, leading up to the murders. a DEA agent had been placed outside their home to stake it out.

The night of the murders, the DEA agent supposedly saw Dawn Defeo, walking out of the house carrying a rifle, wearing a hood and black gloves, much like the description of the demon that Ronnie claimed had handed in the gun. One criminologist suggested that it appears the bodies were in fact moved after their deaths, be placed in the beds. However, this has never been confirmed, and the official ruling by the investigators in court was that the bodies were not moved. It's worth noting that despite these rumours and accusations,

no one else has officially been implicated in the murders of the Defeo family. The official story is that Ronnie Defeo Jr. murdered his family as they slept in their beds. Then the hauntings and subsequent events. As I said, this story feels like that. like it's been ripped from a horror film. And many have suggested that maybe it has been. The Lotts story came out, not long after a little-known novel or movie came out. The Exorcist.

The Exorcist was a worldwide phenomenon that brought the idea of the devil back into the public zeitgeist, battle between the good Catholic priests against the demonic entity that could move furniture, levitate people and spray green slime around. All very familiar concepts that are contained in the Lutz story. The priest who claimed he visited the Lutz home later made a statement under an affidavit that he never actually stepped foot into the property. And only spoke to George Lutz over the phone. This is completely at odds with every other account of the incident the priest gave.

The Lutz's neighbour had a large Persian cat that Ronnie DeFaio apparently referred to as piggy due to its size. It was prone to sitting in a tree next to 112 Ocean Avenue, its eyes reflecting light as it watched the inhabitants through the windows. The day they claimed they saw the hoof prints in the snow, it was reportedly no snow in Amherfield on that day. The new owners of the house, after the Lutz, point to the discrepancies in the weather, as evidence that the stories contained in the latter book, the Amityville horror, are fictional,

although Ed Warren suggests this might not be that much of a smoking gun. Now, people said, well, there was no snow call for that night. The Weather Bureau didn't call for snow. The Weather Bureau is never wrong, are they? But did you ever see it snow on one side of the town and not on the other side? Yes, positively. So they picked on little things like this. Little things, they grabbed it.

Yes. Speaking of the new owners, they were adamant that there is nothing wrong with the house. The key point of this is that when they moved in, despite the Lutz's claims of doors being blown off the hinges, along with a whole host of other incidents of destruction, they claimed that when they purchased the house, there was nothing to suggest anything had happened. This is the original banister in the book. It was supposed to have been torn out of its hinges and completely demolished or something. As you can see, it is the original banister.

It's been here, like everything else, 50 years, and it's still in perfect condition. January 2nd, holding his nose, George forced open the paneling and shown his flashlighter on the red-painted walls. The stench of human excrement was heavy in the confined space. it formed a choking fog. My name is Patty Comerato. I host friends with Allison Defeuio, a girl who was murdered with the rest of her family here in 1974. This is how I'm going to show you his mysterious red room that's so noted for in the book. This store, which they say was never here.

Was here. Is here. Always will be here, I suppose. This is the red room. Nothing more than a storage area where Allison and her brothers and I used to keep toys. Just red, you know? There's never any feeling of spirit, presence, or ghosts, or any sort of thing like that. It's just a play area.

Used to keep toys. Nothing more than that. This is the door of our home. In the book, it became a 250-pound door, which was completely blown out of its frame and off its hinges. As you can see, it's the original door. Solid as a rock. immovable and quite innocent. Once again Ed Warren takes issues with the new owner's claims.

In an interview he states that visitors to the house since the Lutz left complained of horrific smells and also that the new owner's parked car burst into flames outside the house. The window that supposedly would slam shuttle by itself was apparently caused by a creaky floorboard and a window with an incorrect counterweight. In a bizarre turn of events, Ronnie Defeo Jr's defence attorney, William Weber, became involved with the lotses after they left the house.

He brought them the proposal of a book and movie deal for their story. In a long drunken conversation, Weber is said to have revealed elements of the crime they wouldn't have previously known that likely could have influenced their story. Jay Anson wrote the best-selling novel The Amityville Horror, which made him millions. When asked if the story was true, he was always very reserved to give a definitive answer. However, Anson didn't get to enjoy his riches for long, dying of complications of heart surgery in 1980.

Heart-related conditions are a fate that appears to have befallen a number of people involved in the investigations. into the Amateurville hauntings. And that creepy photo of the boy with the glowing eyes? There are a couple of apparent explanations for this as well. Some suggested that it is in fact one of the investigators who was in the house that night. His glasses reflecting light to give off the impression of glowing eyes. Others had claimed that someone had brought their 10-year-old nephew

to the house that night. Although the reporter who arranged the whole thing refutes this. and claimed that there were no children present. So where does that leave us with the Amityville horror? Did George and Cathy Lutz make up the entire story to make money? It's worth noting that while they did make a decent amount out of the book and movie, it paled in comparison to what Jay Anson made. George Lutz has said before that he wishes the book had stuck a little closer to the original story.

Speaking of the original story, before it became the best-selling tale of demon pigs and blind priests that we all know today, the lots of story first appeared in an issue of good housekeeping, but as a substantially more reserved version of events, mostly centred around unexplained sounds and strange feelings in the house. Both George and Kathy took polygraph tests and passed them. While these are obviously not perfect, it does suggest that something did in fact happen to them in that house. I'm also drawn back to Ed Warren's first description of George Lutz, how he didn't want to talk about what happened in the house, how the family refused to discuss what happened that made them leave the house in such a rush, how they left all of their belongings, rather than staying in that house a second longer.

Whatever happened to them in those 28 days, both George and Cathy kept to their story until the day they died. I don't believe as so many others seem to now that their entire story was made up. I don't think anyone could have predicted the incredible success of the Amityville horror. And as far as quick-rich schemes go, faking a haunted house is a bit of a wild-card. I think the Lutz family did encounter something in that house. What that something was, who will never know. I think they were encouraged by a number of outside sources. to exaggerate the story, to make it more marketable, to create something that could be scarier than the exorcist.

And with dollar signs in their eyes, they went for it. Maybe what they experienced was a simple trick of the mind, brought on by the fact that they were staying in the house where they knew six people had been brutally murdered, just one year previous, maybe sleeping in the beds that once belonged to those victims. wasn't the smartest of choices. But maybe, just maybe, there was something. Maybe it wasn't demons. Maybe it wasn't some sort of all-powerful poltergeist

that could rip doors off of hinges and assault priests. But maybe there was some sort of an echo. Maybe if you happened to move into a house where something so unbelievably evil happens, Some of that grief, some of that pain, some of that horror remains. Regardless of what you believe, the one thing we know for sure is that we don't know what happened during that 12-month span in 112 Ocean Avenue. George and Kathy Lutz are dead, and one year ago Ronnie DeFaio Jr. passed away. He never came clean about what happened in that house on November the 13th.

14th, 1974. Or if he did, we would never know what parts were truth and what parts were lies. The mystery of the Defeo murders died with Ronnie. Thank you for watching. When you were lying in bed tonight, and if you happen to see two small glowing lights in the darkness of your window, just be comforted by the knowledge that it's just a cat, or at least, It might just be a cat. Pleasant dreams. August 4th, 1990, 9pm.

The sun would have been setting on this summer night in the Scottish Highlands, but still, its warm rays lit the sky. Regardless of the time of year, it seems an odd time of day to be out on a hike, across the secluded moors. But from all the evidence we can gather, two men pulled up in a car just outside of the Scottish philis. village of Calvin. It appears the two men in question were English holiday workers, washing dishes in a nearby hotel for extra cash.

What they were out there doing that night appears to be another part of the mystery of this incident. But regardless, the two men parked their car and began walking through the wooded area. They soon approached a low barbed wire fence, nothing too imposing, but placed to clearly mark out someone's land. The pair hopped over the fence and continued on their walk into the endless moors. They hadn't gotten far, when one of them noticed something in the corner of their eye. He glanced up. It wasn't long before his companion joined him. Momentarily frozen to the spot.

They stared at it. Before the fear, set in. The pair turned and ran. What they were running from, I doubt they could tell you at that. point but they were clearly filled with the overwhelming sense that they were not safe they leapt back over the fencing and hid behind some bushes in the woods waiting a few seconds before carefully peering out from behind them the object was still there high above the field in front of them what was most eerie about this scene was the silence all around them what they were witnessing they likely knew

no one would ever believe. But luckily, on that summer's evening, they had brought a camera. The two men took six photos at night. And after 32 years, just last week, one has finally been released to the public. This image is potentially the clearest photographic evidence that has ever been seen of a UFO. But it has been dismissed and hidden from view for over three decades. Is this an extremely well-done hoax? A foreign government testing secret projects? Or could it be evidence that we are not alone? Dim the lights and get comfortable.

It's time to talk about the Calveen UFO incident. And how, after all this time, we can finally see what so many had decided we shouldn't. Craig Lindsay, public relations officer to the RAF in Scotland, received a call one morning in the late summer of 1990 from the Daily Record, a newspaper in Scotland. With an unusual request, they claimed that two hikers had taken a picture of something in the air just outside of Calveen and asked if the RAF would like to comment on it. Lindsay was obviously perplexed, a reporter on the phone hadn't given him much information to work of, and so he said he couldn't comment without knowing what it was that had been seen.

He asked the reporter if he could send him the photograph. The reporter informed Lindsay that they in fact had been given six negatives of the incident. Obviously not taking the whole thing too seriously, Lindsay asked that they just send over the best photo they had and he would get back to them. The next day, a hard-backed envelope was sent to Lindsay's office. He tore it open and had his first glance at this now infamous photograph. After a few minutes of evaluating it, he clearly decided that he decided, that this needed to be taken a little more seriously, and quickly got on the phone to the Ministry of Defence. Speaking to his colleagues in London, they at first seemed equally dismissive.

Oh yeah, another one, they joked on the phone, as Lindsay explained what he was holding in his hands. But Lindsay said, this one is more interesting than anything I've ever seen. He faxed over a copy of the image to the London offices. By the time he returned from the faxman machine to his office. The phone was already ringing. It was his contact in London, demanding to know more about the photograph. Lindsay laid out as much of the story as he knew at that time. They asked Lindsay to get the negatives from the daily record, as well as the names and contacts of the witnesses. He quickly got in touch with the paper, who seemed all too eager to help. It might have been naive behaviour on the reporter's behalf to provide the RAF and MOD with the

material. But maybe they felt this was the start of a much bigger story, and by cooperating, they could be directly involved in what could potentially be a life-changing moment for mankind. The newspaper handed over the information about the witnesses to Lindsay and sent the negatives directly to the MOD offices in London. To my knowledge, it is unknown if the newspaper kept any copies. Lindsay phoned the number he had been given by the newspaper. which took him to the front desk at a hotel close to where the incident had taken place. After asking to speak to the two individuals in question, he discovered that they were temporary staff at the hotel, washing dishes in the kitchen.

Lindsay doesn't recall much information about the pair, but he did state in an interview that he seemed to remember them having English accents. They explained in detail the whole incident, as it had played out that August evening. After hiding behind the bush, The two men glanced out to see the object had not followed them. It just hung there in the sky. Not moving an inch and not making a sound. They sat there in stunned silence,

watching the object for several minutes before the silence was shattered by the sound of an incoming jet. The jet shot over them heading north, but after a few seconds turned and started heading back in their direction, the sound of the jet broke them out of their shock state, and they pulled out a camera and began snapping shots of what they were witnessing. They claimed that the jet started making large circular passes around the object, moving in an anti-clockwise direction.

After three or four passes, the jet turned one final time and continued on its original course. Still, the object did not move. After a few more minutes, the object, began slowly moving upwards, before suddenly shooting off in a vertical motion towards the sky, vanishing into the clouds, even during this dramatic speed boost. The object didn't make a sound. Lindsay passed all the information onto his London contacts, who simply thanked him and said, from this point on, leave it to us. Several weeks later, at a routine meeting in the London offices,

Lindsay was surprised to walk into a room to discover one of the prints had been blown up into a three-foot colour poster and pinned to a wall, as well as a number of smaller photos of the other six prints. The London office told Lindsay that they had sent the original negatives back to the Daily Record. They told him they had taken a good look at them and found no evidence that the photos had been manipulated in any way, but they had seemingly not decided to investigate any further. strangely, however, despite the photos supposedly being returned, and the images declared not to have been altered by the MOD, no story was ever published by the paper. No one ever thought to contact Craig Lindsay and request the original print that the Daily Record had sent him. He had passed the information onto his higher-ups and had been told to stay out of it. The reporters of the Daily Record had gone quiet. So Lindsay filed away the photo and left it to that.

for the next 30 years. It was only when Dave Clark at Sheffield Hallam University and a small team of UFO investigators ended up in contact with Craig Lindsay that this photo would finally see the light of day. After a number of discussions, Lindsay agreed to donate the photo to the university, so that after years of speculation and a number of recreations,

the original photo could be provided to the public. I have taken the majority of descriptions about the incident from an interview with Craig Lindsay. As the provider of the image and a person directly involved with the report, he seems to be a reliable source. Highlights of this interview can be seen in the disclosure team's incredible Calveen video. I'll post a link in the description to it. It's well worth an hour of your time. They have done incredible work to bring this entire incident to light. But it is worth noting that other versions of the events on that August day in 1990 have been spread for many years.

some claim that the two hikers weren't the only witnesses. Motorists on the nearby A-9 road are said to have seen the object in the sky. Others have claimed that MOD representatives went to the Daily Records offices and confiscated the photos soon after they contacted the RAF for a quote. It's also worth noting that the plane in the images has been identified as a harrier. However, no harriers were reported as being operational in the area. and no reports from the pilots have ever come to light. Back in 2009, in a move that several countries have made in recent years,

the Ministry of Defence made its UFO files available to the British public. With the notable exception of the Calvin photo, and for a number of researchers, this image has become almost the Holy Grail of UFO evidence. The poster that Lindsay claimed to have seen is said to have remained up in the Ministry of Defense headquarters, for a number of years, and apparently ended up behind the desk of chief UFO investigator, Nick Pope. However, one day the head of his division entered the office and took away the print. It wasn't seen again from that day. Depending on who you ask in the world of UFOs,

Nick Pope is either a controversial figure or one of the most important characters in the disclosure movement. Either way, he was a key part of the government releasing its UFO evidence to the public, a little over a decade ago. When the MOD opened its UFO files to the public, numerous questions were asked about the Calvin photo, to which the MOD responded with, well, we don't know, it's gone. It appears there have been some suggestion

that the head of the division had decided this was some sort of top-secret US project. However, the United States denied any involvement. Nick Pope claims that the photos attracted the attention of military officers up to the highest levels. He said that these photos were the clearest and most impressive UFO photographs that a ministry had ever seen and were extensively tested and scrutinised. Pope's retelling of the responses to this photo is fascinating. I'm going to read a handful of quotes from Pope on this topic here.

I felt it was important to keep the information in his own words. The MOD has all sorts of equipment and expertise that we use to analyse and enhance imagery to tell whether there were any signs of fakery. This picture was assessed by our digital experts, who concluded it was a real photograph, showing a solid structured craft, which was estimated as being around 25 metres in diameter. There were no wings and no visible signs of any propulsion system.

It was exotic and unknown in a way far beyond even the most modern stealth aircraft being trialled at that time. Even now, years after these events, I can't discuss the details. of this process, as so much of the information is top secret. The Defence Intelligence staff sent these images to J.A.RIC. That's the Joint Air Reconnaissance and Intelligence Centre. Now, this is the UK's military centre of expertise when it comes to imagery analysis. These intelligence personnel come to the conclusion that these photographs are real. It's a solid craft and no one has the faintest idea

what it is. I remember going to a briefing with the Defence Intelligence Staff where the photograph was discussed. Most of the details of our conversation are classified and must remain secrets. While I took early retirement from the MOD in 2006, the Official Secrets Act binds me for life, but I can reveal the sensational conclusion to our top secret briefing. Summing up, the intelligence officer ran through the possibilities, gesturing to the left with his finger. He said the object in the photograph wasn't Russian. Jerking his hand to the right, he said it wasn't American.

He looked at us intently and said that only left one other possibility. He pointed straight up. My boss and I couldn't help looking up to. Then we looked at each other and then we looked back at the intelligence officer. His face was inscrutable. Nothing further was said and my boss and I walked back to our office in silence. The MOD's standard line on UFOs was that the phenomenon was of no defensive significance, a meaningless whitehall soundbite that meant whatever we wanted it to mean.

At best it was misleading, and at worst it was a downright lie. We constantly played down the true level of our interest in UFOs, telling Parliament, the media and the public that the subject was of little interest, while all the time behind closed doors, we struggled to make sense of cases like the Calvin incident. Despite an extensive investigation, we never found a definitive explanation for what was seen at Calvin. One time, they nearly caused a diplomatic incident

that threatened to unravel the UK's special relationship with the United States. By the mid-90s, a bitter struggle had erupted within the MODD in relation to UFOs. A skeptic versus believer dogfight was raging. In relation to the Calvinian photos, the only remotely possible skeptical theory was that the object was a secret prototype aircraft or drone. We knew what we did and didn't have at the time when it came to such things. So realistically, that only left the Americans. At the same time as this row was raging, speculation arose that the Americans had developed a secret prototype aircraft,

codename Aurora, a hypersonic replacement for the iconic SR-71 Blackbird. We asked the US authorities if they had been taken. testing such an aircraft over the UK, but received firm denials. With the Calvin photos in mind, some MOD officials didn't believe the US assurances, so asked again. The Secretary of the Air Force, Donald Rice, was incensed by the questioning, and the implication that he had lied to US Congress when he told them that Aurora didn't exist. Arirateachet at the British Embassy in Washington wrote to senior RAF officers,

pleading with them to defuse the row. As a result of this diplomatic bust-up, my head of the vision removed the Calvine incident photo from our office wall. He, like my immediate boss, was a sceptic and clung to the belief that the object had to be American. Because the concept of extraterrestrial visitation was too terrible a truth for him to face. In 1996, MP Martin Redmond tried to get answers about the missing photos, to which the MOD told him. A number of negatives associated with the sighting were examined by staff responsible for air defence matters. Since it was judged, they contained nothing of defence significance. The negatives were not retained, and we have no record of any photographs having been taken from them. However, it's strange that even in late 1991,

officials have been asking for detailed drawings of the incident. These images were included in the released UFO files. Subsequent requests for the photos and information about the witnesses, through the Freedom of Information Act were denied, citing that the privacy of the witnesses was important, and for that reason the information would be classified for the duration of their lifetime. While it's possible the two witnesses change their mind about going public, it seems odd that they were happy to go to the press with these images, but then quickly decided they wanted no path in the story. The full contents of the MODD dossier will now not be released until 2076. The release of this photo is potentially one of the biggest developments in the world of UAP disclosure.

Had the MOD been trying to hide and downplay the importance of this image, or had it genuinely been discarded as not worth further investigation, and subsequently lost in the mountains of evidence they have? If this is indeed a genuine UFO, then it might be the clearest image anyone has captured of an unidentified object in our skies, depending on what this object is. we may look back at the release of this photograph as one of the most important moments in our history as a species. So where do you sit with this new photograph? Are you a believer or a sceptic? Do you have a suggestion for what this object could be? I've left our email address in the description,

so please get in touch. I'd love to hear all your thoughts on this subject. UFO stories tend to be very complicated, with a lot of moving parts and conflicting information. So if you have any further information about this case, or have evidence to the contrary of anything I've spoken about here, then please let me know. The Picture Perfect Family moves into their dream home, only to find that they've actually entered a nightmare. A horror staple, as old as time.

Recently, Netflix released a new series from the man behind American horror story, Ryan Murphy. Based on the real-life case of the Brodus family, their new home at 657 Boulevard, Westfield, New Jersey, and someone who claimed to be the protector of their new home, a figure that referred to themselves as the Watcher. The Netflix miniseries is a heavily fictionalised version of the events that took place in this house, but as is often the case, the real story is just as terrifying.

It's worth thanking Netflix and Netflix. Ryan Murphy. Some of us have been watching this case for a long time now, and it's so nice that they have brought us a whole bunch of young blood to join the investigation. So without further ado, let's find out what actually happened and dive into the true story of the Westfield Watcher. Derek Brodus stood alone in the huge six-bedroom house he had recently completed purchase on. It had been a long evening of painting for the 40-year-old family man. He paused for a moment and took it all in. The house needed a fair amount of work before his family would be able to move in,

but this was it. This was their forever home. It's something of a cliche, but this really was the Brodus' family's dream home. Maria, Derek's wife, had grown up in Westfield. Her childhood home being just a few blocks away from 657 Boulevard. Derek, born in Maine, had grown up in a working class family, but worked his way up the ladder at a New York-based insurance company, and he was now making enough that the family could begin living a more lavish lifestyle. Despite the work that was needed, 657 Boulevard was certainly lavish,

costing the family around $1.3 million, but after three different homes in recent years, this was a place Derek could see them staying as they raised their three children. It was a beautiful neighbourhood and rated as one of the safest in America. In his visits to the property, Derek got the feeling of a tight-knit community, a sense that everyone looked out for one another. This was a nice neighbourhood and it was in everyone's interest to keep it that way. What better place to raise a young girl? family. Derek decided to take a step outside, to breathe in the fresh evening air and get away from the paint fumes for a bit. He strolled down the garden path out front to the mailbox. He found a few

bills already, not what you want to see when you've invested so much of your money into a property, but a fact of life, unfortunately. More intriguing, though, was a white envelope. On the front, in a thick handwritten font. It simply said, the new owner. Derek opened the envelope and began reading the handwritten letter that at first appeared to be some sort of welcoming from his new neighbours. The first letter read as follows. Dearest new neighbour at 657 Boulevard, allow me to welcome you to the neighbourhood. How did you end up there? Did 657 Boulevard call to you with its force within? 657 Boulevard has been the subject of my family for decades now

and as it approaches its 110th birthday I have been put in charge of watching and waiting for its second coming my grandfather watched a house in the 1920s and my father watched in the 1960s. It is now my time. Do you know the history of the house? Do you know what lies within the walls of 657 Boulevard? Why are you here?

I will find out. I see already that you have flooded 657 Boulevard with contractors so that you can destroy the house as it was supposed to be. Tis-tis-tis-tis. Bad move. You don't want to make 6-5-7 Boulevard. Unhappy. You have children.

I have seen them. So far, I think there are three that I have counted. Are there more on the way? Do you need to fill the house with the young blood I requested? Better for me. Was your old house too small for the growing family? Or was it greed to bring me your children? Once I know their names, I will call to them and draw them to me.

Who am I? There are hundreds and hundreds of cars that drive via 657 Boulevard each day. Maybe I am in one. Look at all the windows. you can see from 657 Boulevard. Maybe I'm in one. Look out any of the many windows in 657 Boulevard at all the people who stroll by each day.

Maybe I am one. Welcome, my friends. Welcome. Let the party begin. The letter was signed. The Watcher. Derek was understandably freaked out. the family had all been at the house earlier that week.

Derek and Maria have been chatting with their new neighbours, while their three children aged 5, 8 and 10, played in the backyard with some of the local children. Had this person been one of the neighbours they had spoken to? It seemed far too dark and weirdly formal to have been one of the children playing a prank. Or had someone been watching them? Was someone watching him right now?

as he read this letter. Derrick rushed back into the house and quickly switched off all the lights so no one could see in. After taking a moment to regain his composure, Derek contacted the local police. An officer came to the house and asked Derek if he had any enemies. Nothing came to mind for Derek, but if he didn't have any enemies before, he certainly appeared to have one now. Later that that night Derek returned to his family, who were staying at their house, a short distance from 657 Boulevard. A line in the letter had stood out to Derek. I asked the Woods to bring me young blood, and it looks like they listened. He decided to contact John and Andrea Woods, the couple they had purchased the property from, and asked them if they had experienced anything

similar. They had lived in the house for over two decades and said they had never received any letters like that. That was until just a couple of weeks before they moved out. Andrea Wood said they received a strange letter from someone claiming that their family had been tasked with watching the house. While strange, as this had never happened before, John and Andrea dismissed it as an odd prank and threw the letter away. The police told Maria and Derek to not discuss the letter with anyone else for now, especially not their neighbours,

who understandably were now, all suspects in this strange case. Renovation work continued in the following weeks, and the broadesters would visit from time to sign with the children. However, after that first letter, they were on high alert, and any time they lost sight of the children, they would quickly yell their names

to make sure they were okay. At one point, Derek was showing around a couple of his neighbours so they could see the renovation work that was being done to the old property. All was going well until they said something that caused Derek to freeze in his tracks. Seeing the children running around the yard out back, one of the neighbours said, It would be nice to have some young blood in the neighbourhood. A phrase that normally wouldn't have been all that strange.

But in the current situation, it shook Derek to his core. He was becoming paranoid. His house filled with contractors. Neighbors curious about who the new members of their community were. Anyone could be the watcher. But you get inside my house. You wouldn't find it. It is not my custom.

A fortnight after the arrival, arrival of the first letter, Maria had headed to the new house alone to check for any mail, when she pulled out a white envelope with the now familiar handwriting on the outside. This letter was even more chilling than the first. Welcome again to your new home at 657 Boulevard. The workers have been busy, and I have been watching you unload carfalls of your personal belongings. The dumpster is a nice touch. have they found what's in the walls yet

in time they will the letter went on to refer to them by their surname Brodus although it was misspelled implying the watcher may have overheard it more disturbingly the watcher referred to the names and nicknames of the children I am pleased to know your names now and the name of the young blood you have brought me

you certainly say their names often. It went on to describe one of the children as the artist of the family, as the watcher had seen their daughter painting on an easel, inside the enclosed porch of the property, an area that could be viewed if someone was in the yard. 657 Boulevard is anxious for you to move in. It's been years and years since the young blood ruled the hallways of the house. Have you found all of the secrets it holds yet?

Will the young blood play in the basement? Or are they too afraid to go down there alone? I would be very afraid if I were then. It is far away from the rest of the house. If you were upstairs, you would never hear them scream. Well, they sleep in the attic? Or will you all sleep on the second floor? Who have the bedrooms facing the street?

I'll know as soon as you move in. It will help me to know who is in which bedroom. Then I can plan better. All of the windows indoors in 657 Boulevard allow me to watch you and track you as you move through the house. Who am I? I am the watcher. and have been in control of 6-5-7 Boulevard for the better part of two decades now.

The Woods family turned it over to you. It was their time to move on, and kindly sold it when I asked them to. I passed by many times a day. 657 Boulevard is my job, my life, my obsession. And now you are too, Brodus family. Welcome to the product of your greed. Greed is what brought the past three families to 657 Boulevard. And now it has brought you to me.

Have a happy moving in day. You know I'll be watching. Understandably, the Broduses did not bring their children back to the house after this letter. Unsure what to do about the whole situation, the Broduses debated whether they would move in at all to the house after the letters. But not being around the property didn't mean the watcher was done. Just a few weeks later, a third letter was sent. This time it asked where they had gone, and that the house was missing them.

The house is crying from all the pain it's going through. You have changed it and made it so fancy. You are stealing its history. It cries for the past. and what used to be in the time when I roamed its halls. The 1960s were a good time for 657 Boulevard. When I ran from room to room, imagining the life of the rich occupants there,

the house was full of life and young blood. Then it got old, and so did my father. But he kept watching until the day he died, and now I watch, and wait for the day when the young blood will be mine again. 6.57 Boulevard is turning on me. It is coming after me. I don't understand why.

What spell did you cast on it? It used to be my friend and now it is my enemy. I am in charge of 657 Boulevard. It is not in charge of me. I will fend off its bad things and wait for it to become good again. It will not punish me. I will rise again. I will be patient and wait for this to pass.

And for you to bring the young blood back to me. 657 Boulevard needs young blood. It needs you. Come back. Let the young blood play again like a lot. I once did, let the young blood sleep in 657 Boulevard. Stop changing it and let it alone. Interestingly, the comments about the house turning on the watcher came after in an act of desperation. Derek had invited a priest to come and blessed the house. The main suspects in his case soon became

the Brides' new next-door neighbours, the Langford's, a strange family who had lived in in the neighbourhood since the 1960s. Penny Langford was a 90-year-old woman who lived in the house with several of her adult children, some of whom were in their 60s. Their property also would have had a decent view of the enclosed porch of 657, where the Brodice's daughter was painting. Both the police and Derek and Maria began to suspect one of the younger members of the family. Michael. When he was brought in for questioning, he apparently said a number of things that seemed to coincide with the narrative of the letters. However, there was a lack of any real evidence that he was behind the threats. The case against Michael grew even more strenuous when DNA evidence taken from

the envelopes revealed they had been licked by a woman. Derek felt the police weren't taking the situation seriously enough and still convinced the Langford were behind it started his own investigation. He created documents detailing how close someone would need to be to the house to hear that their conversations, installed cameras all around the house, and spent many nights waiting in the dark in the hope of catching someone spying on the property. He employed private detectives and even reached out to the former FBI agent who had inspired the character Clarice Starling. But it was all to no avail. The investigation into the Langford's seemed to be going nowhere, and a number of other suspects cropped up throughout the case.

More than one child sex offender was found to be living in the area. And one of the more creepy observations came from the Brodus' house painter, who noticed the couple who lived behind the house had a couple of lawn chairs in the garden, but they kept strangely close to the Brodus' property. One day he looked out to see the older man who lived there, sitting in the chair, staring directly at the house. The chairs were always pointed at 657. After six months, the family decided to sell the property.

After all the renovation work they had completed, they attempted to put it on the market for more than they had bought it for, but rumours about the watcher were rife, and no one would touch it. They instead tried to sell the house to a developer who would tear the house down and build two smaller properties in its place. However, many of the local residents protested against this, and the Westfield Planning Board denied the request, as the area would be three feet smaller than their regulations set out for gaps between properties. Interestingly, further developments in the area have passed with no issues, despite having greater size exceptions.

It was beginning to feel like the entire community was against the Brodus's. At this point, all they wanted was to get rid of the house, but they just couldn't seem to do it. Some even accused them of being con artists, attempting to create a scary story and a bid to get a movie deal. But finally, Derek was able to find a family who were happy to rent the property, under the condition that if they were to receive a letter from the watcher, they could get out of their lease. It took just two weeks for the watcher to make their presence. known. Derek returned to the property after the new residents complained about noises in the roof that they believed were coming from squirrels. When he arrived they handed him a letter. Some two

and a half years since the first, the watcher was still watching. Violent winds and bitter cold. To the vile and spiteful Derek and his wench of a wife Maria. You wonder who the watcher is? Turn around, idiots. Maybe you even spoke to me. One of the so-called neighbours who has no idea who the watcher could be. Or maybe you do know. And are too scared to tell anyone.

Good move. I walked by the news trucks when they took over my neighbourhood and mocked me. I watched as you watched from the dark house. and an attempt to find me. Telescopes and binoculars are wonderful inventions. 6.57 Boulevard survived your attempted assault and stood strong with its army of supporters barricading its gates. My soldiers of the boulevard followed my orders to a tea.

They carried out their mission and saved the soul of 657 Boulevard with my orders. All hail the watcher Maybe a car accident Maybe a fire Maybe something as simple as a mild illness That never seems to go away But makes you feel sick day after day after day after day after day Maybe the mysterious death of a pet

Loved ones suddenly die planes and cars and bicycles crash bones break you were despised by the house and the watcher won five years after the whole ordeal began Derek was finally able to sell

657 Boulevard to a new owner who paid just 959,000 for the property leaving the family with a loss of a little under half a million. However, the recent selling of the rights their story to Netflix appears to have made the Brodus's a pretty penny. While it might not make up for years of paranoia and fear they went through, it certainly feels like a decent consolation and hopefully gives them the opportunity to restart their life free from this whole ordeal. Derek says he has no intention of watching the show

seeing the trailer was stressful enough for him. When they finally sold the property, Derek gave the new owners a note. It said, We wish you nothing but the peace and quiet that we once dreamed of in this house. He also included a sample of the watcher's handwriting, in case they ever needed it. To this day, no further letters have been received, and no one knows.

Who? or what the watcher might have been. It's often the case that when a location that has some history is messed with, some of that history seems to bubble up to the surface. That appears to be what's happening here in this apartment complex in California. When I was 18, I hitched hiked to California with someone I met at the local transit station. He had previously warned me lots of people went there in search of the sunshine state, but in reality it changes you. He claimed there was something weird about the whole place.

After staying with him for a few months, I started experiencing very frequent sleep paralysis episodes. One of them I specifically recall because it was terrifying. We slept in the car garage attached to the apartment building. The space was used as a music studio. The walls were covered in soundproof material, and there were dim lights in the keyboard. I slept on the couch in that room. The arm I laid my head on was by the garage door and facing the walkway entrance. There was no knob on the door to the walkway entrance, so it was always ajar.

We hung a tassel there to open and close it. I was falling asleep late one night and started experiencing a paralysis episode. I was fixated on this corner in the top of the room that gave me the creeps, because no light ever reached that spot. I heard the door creak and averted my eyes from the darkness to see who was walking in. It was dim and I was having trouble sleeping. But it was almost like my vision zoomed in on its face. Peaking through the space in the cracked doorway, I saw a long crooked nose that led to the a red cracked bleeding face. The flesh on its face looked like Jacklings' beef jerky, with blood

oozing from the dried cracks. Its eyes were yellow, and it had long fingers that wrapped around the door with more joints than a human would have. I couldn't move. I could only stare at every gruesome detail of the thing. I was so scared it would intrude further, but eventually, My mind gave in to sleep, and I faded off terrified. On a completely different occasion on the same couch, I was woken up early morning to the sound of a scream that seemed to fly across the apartment parking lot. I heard it coming up from the street,

and it flew by the garage door, shrieking the entire way. I ran outside, thinking maybe someone ran by screaming and needed help. Even though it really didn't sound like a noise that could come from a person in my opinion, There was nothing there. No cars. No people. No blood trail.

Silent night streets. I walked into the apartment to see if anyone else had been disturbed. There were two people awake. One said they woke up suddenly but wasn't sure why. They were looking for food. Another one was watching TV and claimed they felt something that startled them awake. Later, I was informed. A passenger plane crashed into the complex in the 80s.

It had recently been remodeled. Needless to say, I didn't go back to sleep that night. The scream gave me chills. It was around 3 a.m., so I ended up going to get drinks with friends. California has to be the most spiritually active place I've ever visited. There are so many stories out there about children, though, approach adults and ask a seemingly basic question. A lot of the time this on the surface seems like a simple everyday encounter, but it's the recurring feelings the people who have

these experiences talk about afterwards that really make them worth noting. The sense that the simple everyday encounter was with something else, something that doesn't quite fit. You struggled to put it into words, but you know that what you just encountered. Wasn't a child at all. It was something other. Let's get into case number two. Earlier this spring, me and a friend were in Naples, Italy. One night, around 2 or 3 a.m., we were headed home to our hotel. A girl, between 9, 12 years old, danced up to us and asked for a cigarette. She did this in perfect English. We told her we didn't have any cigarettes and she followed up with, do you have a lighter? I had a lighter on me so I gave it to her. The fact that

this was literally a child didn't cross my mind even once and I, to be completely honest, would have given her a cigarette too if I had one. It felt like she could have asked for anything and I would comply instantly. It felt like she was in total control. After she received a lighter, she said thanks and danced along further up the street. During this whole interaction, I had the feeling that something isn't quite right. And after she moved on, I said to my friend, Yeah, that was a spirit or something. What the fuck was that?

My friend totally agreed. Both me and my friend are not very superstitious or spiritual. We sat up until early morning. just talking about this experience. Both of us began crying somehow after she left, and it all felt really weird. I really can't explain what that was, but it was like a rush all through my body. And both me and my friend are still to this day convinced she wasn't human. Also, she had a boy with her, even younger, but he did not say a word. I don't know if this makes sense at all, but it is what it is.

Has anyone ever experienced something similar to this? I think about it pretty much every day, I just can't let go of the thought that this was something out of this world. Since posting this, many have asked. No, she did not have black eyes. She took the lighter with her. It isn't the fact that a child asked for cigarettes in the night that's eerie. It's just the feeling we got. Either you believe me or not, it doesn't really matter either way. Mainly I just want to know if someone has felt something similar to this.

Another case, another question. If you have any experiences with the eerie children, then please do let us know in the comments. Or maybe you've encountered what this witness describes as a light being, case number When I was little, about 8 or 10, I was lying in bed trying to sleep, but hadn't actually fallen asleep. My bedroom door was open and the hallway light was still on. Suddenly, I felt someone kissed my cheek. I thought it was my mum coming in to say good night. I opened my eyes, but instead of my mum, what I was seeing was a figure, made of pure light. It stood over me for a brief moment. and then left the room faster than any human could travel.

I laid there for a moment, somewhat freaked out. I finally called for my mum and asked if she had been in my room. She said no. I think back to this moment and I've always wondered who it could have been if it was actually someone at all or just my imagination. Both my mum and dad passed away within the past few years and it has made me wonder of the dead if ghosts are even real, can travel to any point in time.

Maybe that was my dead grandfather. The only one close to me who had passed away many years prior. Or maybe. That was one of my parents visiting me as a child again. Who knows? Maybe it was even myself from a future time after I die. Anyway, it's something I'll probably never have an answer for. but I have always thought about.

Has anyone else ever been visited by a light being before? You know that feeling when you experience a nightmare that is so vivid it sticks with you for years. I can certainly remember encounters from my childhood like this. What is it that makes these incidents stick in our memory so clearly when so many other dreams just fall away the moment we wake up? Maybe we aren't experiencing a dream at all. maybe we've fallen into something else.

This witness appears to have unwittingly fallen into an encounter between several different types of entity. Case number four I'm kind of hesitant to share this story because I know people will not believe or judge and I don't blame them. When I was 17 years old I hit a huge bump in my life causing me to lose myself

and what little innocence I had left. I lost faith in myself and in life. Then, on February 23rd, 2019, I came home from high school, extremely tired from all the schoolwork. After getting off the bus, I immediately went straight to bed for a nap. I woke up to someone pushing me,

trying to wake me up with urgency. I opened my eyes and saw a little girl with black hair, crying. telling me, get up, get up, he's coming. I responded with, who is coming, who? She said, he is coming. You need to go right now. Right there, I heard something full from the kitchen. She immediately stopped crying and looked at me wide-eyed. And she said, he's here. I got up and she was hiding behind me. For some reason I was not afraid, only concerned.

So I saw the door knob start jiggling, like if someone was trying to turn it. Then the door flew open, and I saw nothing but darkness. Before I could even question the darkness, a probable seven-foot or taller creature stepped into my room, bent over due to a. it being too tall and the roof too low. It sounded almost like a clicker from The Last of Us, combined with a police siren. It had pointed teeth and a long, sharp tongue, but the eyes were just two yellow glowing dots in the middle of the eye sockets. It was just pitch black and it was dripping with some sort of black liquid like oil, but it smelled terrible. It smelled

worse than a decaying animal. I had no idea how to explain it. I stayed there, the little girl gripping my hand, and she started crying again. Then from behind me I saw a pure white light start to shine. Before I could turn, I felt a hand lay on my shoulder. I did see the hand, it was the hand of an elderly man, and he said with an echoing voice, This is not your fight, son. It is mine alone.

I then woke up, jumping out of my bed, struggling to breathe. I never got out of my room until my family came home hours later. I am 20 years old now, and I still can't get over the trauma to this day. I love the idea of many worlds, that at any one time there is an infinite amount of alternative reality. playing out. Every decision you make, no matter how tiny, branches you off into a different reality. Each and every day, there are trillions of versions of yourself playing out their lives, oblivious to the existence of one another. But what happens if those worlds bleed into each other? What happens if you encounter one of the other versions of yourself?

This witness appears to have discovered a very old. odd intersection that maybe, just maybe, lets us have a glimpse into these other worlds. I had a very, very odd experience about 17 years back. I was driving to a friend's house. It's important to say that I worked one mile from my friend's house, so I drive the same ways to get to both places. I just drive further to get to my friend's house. So I'm driving and I get to a red light.

I'm taking a left. To get to work, I drive straight. And I'm waiting at the light. A car identical to mine. A brown Jeep Grand Cherokee pulls up next to me and stops at the light. I looked at the driver and swear the driver was me. I saw myself driving my own Jeep, wearing clothes that I would only wear to work, usually on a Friday and driving towards my job. My other self looked right back into my eyes with a weird look that told me he knew something I didn't. I've only told three or four people this story. Two of them believe me and told me they also had very weird stuff happen at that intersection. One friend told me he saw what looked like small electrical pulses or crackles coming off the ground.

Then my other friend saw some sort of apparition there. A friend's wife said she saw moving shadows in the middle of the day. She said two adults and a child crossing the street together, and a huge bird standing near them. And she swore she saw its wings flap. The friend who saw the electrical pulses said he thinks it might be some sort of interdimensional nexus point. But I don't know what he's basing that on. I don't tell too many people.

I wish I got the number plate of the Jeep, but I was struck done by what I saw. I was quite freaked out for days. It took a few minutes for the details to sink in. That's all for this entry into the tape library. Don't forget, if you have a paranormal experience to share, then please do get in touch. You can find my email in the description. Until next time. Pleasant dreams.

dreams. So I'm an 18 year old female college student and all the residential areas on my campus have a different name. Highland, Park, Historic and North. I chose to live in the historic district because it was the one with the most greenery. It was close to all my classes and my brother stayed in the same dorm when he went to my uni. I live on floor three of three at my dorm. and I noticed something really odd after moving in. There's an intercom right on the wall at the foot of my bed. I inquired about it at the front desk, asking if it was hooked up to the desk or campus security, anything like that. The desk assistant had no clue what I was talking about,

and directed me to the most popular R.A. in the building. I asked him about the intercom, and he told me the story as follows. Back in the day, the rooms had intercoms that went to the room. that went to the basement. Not sure why the basement. But the basements of the historic dorms are closed after someone unaligned themselves in there back in the day. There's also rumours they're connected to the bomb shelter onto campus, but I don't know.

I was aware of the bomb shelters. We have staircases that lead down at random spots all over campus. One was just outside into the right of my dorm. and you can even hear the pressure release from them every half hour to hour. But this intercom thing spooked me, so I chose to ignore it. My roommates and I had pretty opposite schedules, so we were rarely in the room together. Weird stuff would happen to us, though. I'd be working at my desk and hear a woman go,

Hello? Who I'd assume was my roommate or friend from down the hall. but I turn around and no one was there. My closet is about two feet from the intercom and sometimes I'd hear the door knob turn. It's all good stuff in this dorm, everything creaks. My roommate would text me asking if I forgot my keys and was knocking on the door,

which obviously I wasn't. There was even a time where we were both in the room and a huge bang hit the door right next to the intercom. We freaked out, looked through the peephole, but saw no one. We slowly opened the door to look down the hall, and because we're in the centre, there isn't anywhere to run. But no one would be there.

My roommate broke her leg a month into the school year and had to drop out, leaving me on my own. These weird occurrences would happen, so I spent a lot of time in my friend's room, only ever sleeping in mine. Eventually we migrated to hanging out in my room. But my friends would always comment about how bad the energy was. It seemed to subside after a bit. But there are still some days I walk in and it's absolutely draining in there. There have even been instances when my boyfriend and I are about to fall asleep. They will say, what do you mean? And I was confused what he's talking about.

And he'll go, didn't you just say, some weird clicking, almost like a telegraph, started coming from the intercom around October. I asked the RA about it, but he assured me the intercom was disconnected. I started making more friends, meaning I was in more rooms in my building. And the more I spent time elsewhere, the more I realized, my room is the only room with an intercom, Even as I write this, I have an uneasy feeling like I shouldn't be saying any of this. Our next case sees a self-declared sceptic being forced to question everything they believe when they experience a seance that unveils some long-forgotten family history. I thought I'd share something interesting that happened to me about 15 years ago.

Most won't believe me, but for what it's worth, I promise everything I tell you is 100% true and how it happened to the best of my memory. However, names have been changed. I was about 18 and I was hanging out at my friend Joanne's house with some other school friends. I can't quite remember how we got onto the subject. But towards the end of the evening,

Joanne thought it would be fun to perform a seance. Joanna and her family were from Cape Town, South Africa. and had a deep-rooted interest in the spiritual, or at least that's what Joanne made out to us. With the lights off and candles lit, we all sat at a round table, with cards fanned out around the edges. Each card had a letter of the alphabet arranged A to Z,

and there was a shot glass placed in the middle. Joanne starts speaking out to the spirits in Afrikaans. I remember pulling a face and rolling my eyes. It was too dark for anyone to take offence. At the time I was an insufferable, enlightened atheist teen dork. You know the type. Cringy 4chan edge lord, who thinks any form of spirituality or religion is beneath me and my superior intellect.

I never wore a fedora but I was down close. However, what was about to happen made me question everything. It started mundane enough. A few questions were asked, and the shot glass we were resting our fingers on started to move to and fro, until eventually one of my friends asked the spirit, if they were associated with anyone in the room. The shot glass moved directly towards me. In credulous, I asked the spirit, if you're associated with me, then what's my mother's maiden name?

My eyes fixate on the letters that spell out her maiden name, Jones. But the glass started spelling out something different. First the glass went to T, then H, then O. I thought then it was bullshit, as it was completely wrong. Then I was struck by horrific realisation. When my mum was six months old, her biological father died of a heart attack. And a year after that, she took her stepfather's name. I completely forgot this in the moment, as I was expecting the glass to read out the maiden name she had for the majority of her life.

But it was actually spelling out her original maiden name of Thompson. It was a fact so trivial that I barely remembered it myself. It was something never talked about even within my family as it happened so long ago. It would be hard to believe that any of my friends would know this esoteric piece of my family history that occurred 20 years before I was even born. But nonetheless, somehow, it was being spelled out in front of my very eyes. Thompson. My school friends and I wouldn't talk about anything deeper than video games and tits at that age.

Yet there's no way I ever mentioned this to any of them. It's not like one of my pot-smoking loser friends has a copy of my mum's birth certificate and none of them had even met anyone else in my family There was literally no way anyone could have known this Before I could contemplate this for too long or ask any other questions to my gossi associate Joanne's mum came into the room and turned the lights on And with a thick South African accent shouts something like Bloody hell Joanne

Stop messing around with this silly crap and put a definitive stop to the proceedings. Of course, at the time, I played it off as a prank, but the more I think of it, the more my mind wonders. Did something actually paranormal happen that night? I know it's nothing dramatic or exciting. I didn't see an apparition or a cryptid,

but unlike 90% of the shit you read on Reddit, this experience is actually true. and something to this day I can't explain. I think one of the things about many paranormal cases that makes them hard to talk about is how they rely so heavily on the feelings and sensations that are witness experiences during the encounter.

Sometimes it's hard to express on paper what that person has truly gone through. I think the feelings associated with these brushes with the paranormal play a huge role in the next two cases. The first takes us to an old farm, where voices are drifting in through an open window on a warm summer night. This event happened about 1981 and I was 11 years old. My younger cousin Cathy was also visiting our grandparents and staying the night. We were in an upstairs bedroom of the farmhouse that was located right in the centre of the 100 acres.

Just beside the house to the east was what I called the old tractor road. I've heard this type of road referred to as a two-rutt road. My upstairs bedroom window overlooked this old farming road, which was probably in use, even before the old farmhouse was built. Right next to the house was a stacked wood pile and in a four or five foot wide grass walkway. On the other side was our grandmother's 15 foot wide garden that ran parallel to the old road. so even in the dark, I could easily see the road since it was so close to the house. On the opposite side of the road was a huge 35-acre cornfield, that at the time easily stood 5 to 6 feet tall.

It was a warm summer evening, and we were supposed to be sleeping by this time. But we were talking about music and our favourite bands. Being Canadian, she naturally liked the band Rush. My cousin and I began to hear a distant conversation between at least two people that was definitely coming from outside. We could also faintly hear footsteps on the two rut-dirt road. As the conversation got closer and the footsteps also became louder, we slowly kneeled down at the open window and listened.

It was probably around 11 o'clock or so, and our eyes were already well adjusted to the dark, so we would easily be able to see what was happening just below the window. The conversation and footsteps gradually became louder, and we knew for sure we would see who was trespassing on our land. Maybe our grandmother would hear what we were hearing, and she would appear with her shotgun, as she had done many times before,

when she thought there was a threat to our property. Grandma was no joke, and once grabbed a huge knife, and told me to go get the front end loader. When I returned, she had already gutted a cow and had it ready to hang from the loader, or grandma did not show up to save the night this time. The conversation and footsteps gradually became louder and louder. Then, without my cousin or I seeing a thing, they just as slowly became quieter and quieter, and slowly stopped.

There was no possibility of this walking conversation taking place in the same. the cornfield. Because we did not hear the familiar and unmistakable sound of at least two people making their way through a tall cornfield. It should also add that we saw no flashlight or lantern. We only heard the conversation and footsteps. I did not recall what the conversation was about, and at this time I'm unsure of the conversation was understandable at all. Well, we never saw anything or anyone. This probably happened there was a course of maybe two minutes or so. but I have spent hundreds, if not thousands of hours, thinking back to this warm country night

and what we were able to hear but not see. I cannot explain this event and can only describe it as the first of two experiences I had on that farm. Our final case tonight takes us to an experience this witness had at her then-boyfriend's home. An old large Victorian building that has seen its fair share of history take place within its walls.

But it seems there might be something darker, lurking deep inside, hidden behind closed doors, something that on this particular night decided to come out to play. I can tell you nothing in this story is made up. Yes, the house should be condemned. Nobody should be living in its at all. But I live in a very impoverished area. and big old Victorian houses are super cheap, because they need so much work to be livable. This house was not livable, but they were making it work.

I have so many stories about this house and crazy things that happened there. But this one in particular is something I could never forget. Even typing it, I have goosebumps the whole time. The feelings felt there that night are ones that aren't forgotten. I was visiting my ex who lived in a super old house. It had been a hotel, brothel, store and a funeral home in its former life. At this point it is a home that would look so beautiful if you could only see the beautiful architecture and grand wallpaper as they used to be.

Instead, the house looks like it has been forgotten for some time. Dust and cobwebs are visible on every surface. But especially on the deep mahogany carved trim, that encircled every room and sometimes protruded into elaborate carvings of guardian protectors. It was unnerving to be in this house at any time. The hair on the back of your neck would stand up every time you switch rooms, as if you had walked in on something that couldn't be seen. That feeling is something you can get used to though.

There's a feeling that fades quickly and grows comfortable after a while. This was a feeling that you don't mind because it didn't. trigger any emotion. It was just more of a reminder that some people are unseen. At night, the house was a different story. Not often, but some nights. The house after the sunset felt different. It filled with tension. You could still feel the hair on your next stand, but the energy of someone being there is much different. This This feeling causes goosebumps. It's uncomfortable, tension filled and chilling.

This feeling doesn't fade and sometimes returns just from mentions of the stories I encountered. Not lasting as long as before but definitely there. This night I went over because my boyfriend's parents and siblings had gone out to town and needed us to dog sit. I hung around the house and watched TV. That night we decided we would travel to the upstairs back hall just to scare ourselves. The house felt quieter than normal that day. We were worried we might not see anything in the back hall, like all of the last spirits were on vacation.

But that night it changed. Everyone knows this house is haunted, there is no doubt. As you climb the stairs to the second story, you are met with another level of paranormal. Almost constantly you hear things that don't make sense. You feel that negative tension in the air, and you catch things out of the corner of your eye that you can't find reasoning for, to add a little extra spice. The upstairs had lost all of its electricity several years prior. Instead they had extension cords running to the three main bedrooms.

The upstairs is split into two parts. One of the parts is at the top of the staircase, and it opens to three main bedrooms, each with a giant door made of solid wood and sharing the same grand crown moulding as downstairs. Immediately to the left of the staircase was another identical door. This door leads to a hallway. The hallway has a few rooms in the bathroom.

Room numbers still gross to front of each door. front of each door to let hotel guests know which room would be accommodating them for the evening. As the sun went down, we got excited to go exploring and maybe dig up some trouble. Live for the adrenaline of it, get a little spook in. As we went up the stairs, things felt different. Even in the dark, nothing was happening. Just like earlier in the day, the house was quiet. It just felt like we were in any old house. No good. Noice bumps, no presence of another, no noise. As we turned the knob and opened the door to the back hallway, it changed immediately.

Suddenly all around us was a presence of darkness and a feeling of terror. We immediately had the same fault. No. We closed the door and almost immediately the air cleared of the terrible feeling it had presented just moments earlier. Since the house felt so calm we decided to spend some time in my boyfriend's bedroom upstairs. As we lay there watching a movie, the lights flickered. Not uncommon because of the extension called fire hazard that ran from the living room and up the stairs. The flicker brought with it to that horrible presence we had felt, opening the back hallway door rushing back to us.

As we glanced at each other in terror, the lights flickered once more. and a loud crash came from outside the door. And their repetitive beats, like a toddler running, pounded loudly in the hallway, directly outside of the room. There was only five or six steps, but they were incredibly loud. As soon as the pounding footfall stopped, the air changed to normal again.

We sat, catching our breath together for what seemed like forever. Neither of us saying a word. When we did speak, we decided we should leave for the night. The dog would be fine until the morning. Upon opening the door to his bedroom to get out of the house, we heard a crunch. Lifting his shoe, we noticed that my ex had just stepped in broken glass. Upon further inspection, we realised it wasn't just broken glass.

It was broken Christmas bulbs. These were special ornaments that his mum put up every year. And keeps in totes with locking lids to prevent breakages. These totes are behind a closed door, down a hallway. And inside a room that also had a closed door, far away from where they now lay at our feet. We left. Do you have a paranormal encounter that you'd like read out on the tape library?

You can find my email address in the description. Be sure to drop me a message if you have your own experience you'd like to talk about. Thank you for joining me for the latest entry into the archives. Until next time, pleasant dreams.