22. A House On The Reservation
I would stay with my grandma on occasion, who lived back in the woods in a tiny wooden house. We’re Native American and live on the reservation. I remember a specific night where there was knocking on the front door to the house. We were both laying in bed when we heard it. I pointed it out to her and she told me to hush and be quiet. The knocking continued a few times and I tried asking her who it was and she wouldn’t tell me. I never got an explanation as to why either.
There were other incidents where I remember laying in that bed and hearing whistling and loud footsteps running around the outside. My weirdest memory though is one where I was about 5 or 6 and I remember my grandma talking to my parents in the living room and I walked back to her bedroom and came face to face with an lndian girl her face painted black and her body in full regalia, that looked nothing like this time. She was in all sorts of furs and I remember being punched in the gut with fear looking in her eyes. She told me to shush and be quiet as I looked from her to my parents who were within sight of me to my left through the door, and she was crouched down in front of me trying to tell me something. I can’t remember what it was, or what even happened after that point. I just remember seeing her face and the feelings that came with it. I have plenty of other great memories at my grandma’s house. I wasn’t afraid of her house so to speak because I didn’t realize it was weird until I got older. There are stories about my own house as well. I use to wake up to small footsteps running up and down the hall, as well as the sound of someone sprinting away on the pavement outside my window. I have woken up to shadow-like creatures in front of my face and kneeling next to my bed only to have them disappear around corners and out of sight. Anytime these things happened, I just remember asking other people what they thought and my stories weren’t uncommon. These things happen all the time on the reservation apparently.
I have plenty of other great memories at my grandma’s house. I wasn’t afraid of her house so to speak because I didn’t realize it was weird until I got older. There are stories about my own house as well. I use to wake up to small footsteps running up and down the hall, as well as the sound of someone sprinting away on the pavement outside my window. I have woken up to shadow-like creatures in front of my face, and kneeling next to my bed only to have them disappear around corners and out of sight. Any time these things happened, I just remember asking other people what they thought and my stories weren’t uncommon. These things happen all the time on the reservation apparently.
23. The Old Spy Base
I used to live at Royal Air Force (RAF) Chicksands in England during my junior and senior year of high school; I am American btw. My father was an officer and my girlfriend’s father was enlisted, which meant we lived on opposite sides of the base. A stream ran through the center of the base, and on one side was walking path, which I would take to her house, and on the other side was a softball field. Adjacent to the path side was an old priory (nunnery), a beautiful building really, surrounded by mountainous hedges, and meticulously maintained. However, it had been empty for decades. Why?
Well, when I would walk to my girfriend’s house at night, I always had an eerie feeling when I was near the priory or on the path, or both. One night I was walking on the path right next to the priory when I saw a glow in the upper left-hand corner of the second story of the priory; it appeared to be the form of a woman in a white slip or robe, but I shook it off and convinced myself that I was imagining it. That was until it happened almost every night on the path, same spot, same apparition. I told my girlfriend about it and she basically just laughed it off saying that I must have smoked too much hash (I had not).
Then, something else began happening on the path. I began to see another apparition, this time a male in black… only he was headless. This scared the hell out of me, but again I shook it off. Until it happened again, and again, and again. By the third time he was walking and I saw him, she was up in the window as well and she seemed to be watching him. It was a very lonely feeling and I was beginning to have an anxiety attack near the hedges (that was usually where he would disappear).
I spoke with my lady once again and she began to start thinking that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t crazy or stoned. That gave me the confidence to begin asking some of the adults if they had heard any stories about the priory and its grounds. Well, it turns out that a priest had overseen the priory many hundreds of years before, and he and a young nun-in-training had had a love affair, resulting in her pregnancy. Incredibly big no-no, especially for the time. Once the church had found out the sordid details, they sentenced them both to death. His death was to be beheaded, with his head thrown into the creek; he had a quick death. Unfortunately, Rosetta did not have it so easy. While alive and pregnant, she was buried into the wall of the priory and left to die, baby in utero.
The first year I lived on base, they opened the priory as a haunted house for kids and I recall seeing a window on the outside of the building (it was gorgeous, you couldn’t miss the details), but then when I went inside, there was no window. This was the wall in which Rosetta with child had been buried and left to die.
She would walk amongst her dead lover’s corridors where they had made love at night and he would walk the creek searching for his severed head.
24. Just A Tug On The Sheets
I lived in a house in Pasadena with a few roommates. There were always weird creaks and bumps, things being inexplicably moved and returning later, the dog would bark at nothing in the corner with its tail between its legs, but three experiences in particular come to mind.
One morning I was getting ready for work. I worked early so it was around 5 am. I opened the cupboard to get a cup and as I reached for it, the cup shot out onto the floor is if it was just kinda shoved out. I was tired, it was early, I just kinda let it go. Previously an ashtray had been flipped off of the coffee table in front of a room full of people. This stuff happened.
Another time I was home sick just kind of laying in my bed watching TV when I heard my roommate Hank come home. I heard the door open, I heard it close, I heard the footsteps walking down the hallway towards my room. The doorway to the bathroom was immediately across the hall from my room. I saw a figure go into the bathroom out of the corner of my eye. I was still looking at the television. I start telling Hank that the landlord came by wanting rent etc. I see him walk back across the hall to his bedroom and at this point, I’ve been talking to him for a minute and he hasn’t said a word to me. I assume he has his headphones on which is usually the case so I get up to go talk to him and as I round the corner I see that his bedroom doors closed and padlocked from the outside. I was alone in the house and not sure what I had just experienced.
The last thing that really happened to me there was what prompted me to move from that home about a month afterward. At about 3:00 am I was awakened to find that my sheets and blankets were slowly being pulled down from my face. I sleep kind of cocoon style. The rate of movement is so gradual that I assume the dog was laying on my blankets at the foot of the bed and just kind of rolling up in them pulling them off of me. At that moment I can hear my dog Chester outside of my door whining and pacing, my room is padlocked from the inside, the sheets are still being pulled from me. At this point, they were about chest level when I grab them and begin to pull back, but no matter how hard I pull, whatever is pulling my sheets just pulls harder. I’m using all of my strength when I sit up and see that the bottom of my bed is literally bowing in half from the force of my sheets being pulled seemingly from underneath the front of the bed. Fight or flight kicks in and I get really scared because it occurs to me that I can’t see, explain, and probably not protect myself from whatever this is. In an act of desperation, I growled out to nobody at all “just leave me the fuck alone”. At that moment whatever it was released my sheets and my hands shot back into my chest so hard that they left two little bruises from my knuckles. I had to be up for work so I just got dressed and left 2hrs early.
I never told anybody for years. I didn’t believe it myself and honestly was concerned that I might have been losing my mind at the time. When something happens that absolutely could not have happened, the mind does these weird gymnastics in order to make sense of it. But I just couldn’t make sense of it. Years later I told a girlfriend about it. And I’ve recounted the story when telling spooky stories at the bar or something. But it’s not something that I generally share with just anybody.
25. So Terrified He Slept On The Floor
My old house was basically a typical episode of any haunted house show. It started out with relatively harmless things like voices and footsteps, but it got progressively worse. There were several other friends that I had come over who heard or saw things that they couldn’t explain. I had two friends who absolutely refused to set foot in my house again after seeing something that terrified them. Although I lived in that house for two years, it wasn’t until the last year that things got really bad.
One night I was sleeping in my bedroom, which of course was in the basement of the house. I woke up to whispers that were a lot louder than I’d ever heard before. And then my bed started moving. It wasn’t shaking like you see in a horror movie, but instead it was moving as if something big was underneath it and crawling around. I could feel whatever it was pushing up against the mattress and I was honestly so scared that I couldn’t even open my mouth to make a noise. It seemed like time was dragging on forever and my head was pounding from just being shocked, but it was realistically probably only thirty seconds until I took a flying leap off of my bed and bolted up the stairs into my moms room on the top floor. The next day she helped me drag my mattress up two flights of stairs to the room of her floor. I was fifteen and I was so terrified of that house that I slept on her floor until the lease was up and we moved.
As we were moving, our landlord was telling us how he was having trouble finding more tenants because people were too superstitious to live in the neighborhood. What nobody had ever mentioned to us was that the neighborhood was built on a “relocated” cemetery. Except that there were still a few headstones, and bodies, forgotten in the far end of the neighborhood. The last I checked the house was still on the market as the owner had to claim bankruptcy and nobody ever wanted the house.
To be honest, I have so many stories from living there that still make me worry at night. I’m still terrified of the dark to this day, and at eighteen years old I sleep with lights on every night. Some things in the world just can’t be explained.
26. Wails From The Abandoned Infirmary
This story makes me sound insane, so just bare with me.
There’s a little town a little bit away from my hometown that was on Ghost Adventures (a slave house episode), so I decided to go look at the house from the show. My mom wanted to tag along, so we googled the directions and off we went. Now, keep in mind that neither of us knew anything about the town other than that it was supposed to be home to a few “haunted” places. We’ve both always been big believers in the paranormal, by the way.
So we get to the town, and after looking around at the house and the cemetery in the back, I spotted a big, abandoned building. We said fuck it and walked up the hill to see it. As we approached, my mom saw a woman in an apartment across the street staring at us before she closed her curtains. That should’ve been our first sign to go.
Let me try to set the scene here: It was in ruins. Windows broken with sheets hung over some of the pieces, big, rusted doors sealed shut around the property… When you walked up the hill to the side of the building, there was a big archway that lead to a huge floor. Anarchy symbols were spray painted in a few places outside the building. It was dark. There weren’t many walls were apparent through the dark, but you could still see the general area of where they were supposed to be. Small pieces of trash and miscellaneous things littered the floor. It was dusty and gross.
Upon reaching the doorway, I take a couple of photos (a few of which turned out to have orbs and a weird misty shape in the camera). I had this feeling I was being watched, though, but I shrugged it off as being my mom. The closer I got to the entrance, though, the feeling got stronger until I felt suffocated. I ignored it, against my mom’s advice, and went inside of the building. It suddenly stopped. I didn’t feel like I was being watched anymore, and I could breathe. It was dead silent for a second until the faint cry of a baby rang through the hall.
That was enough for me. My mom and I left the building as quick as possible that day, and went to a little retro-themed burger shop across the road. We were talking about it at our table when the waitress came over and asked if we were talking about the hospital. She proceeded to explain that (rough paraphrasing) the building was a small infirmary in the 1800’s, torn down in 1908, and rebuilt in 1915 as the ______ Seminary, changed shortly after to ______ Hospital. It eventually grew too small for the community in the 80’s and was closed down. Most locals steer clear of it because they believe it’s haunted by the devil, though a lot of visitors don’t experience the hospital as we did (she claimed I was psychic, at one point, which added to the weirdness because my mom believes that the psychic/medium gift runs through our blood).
I shrugged it off as her wanting more tourists, but when I got home and looked it up… It was all true. Well, most of it anyway. Neither of us have been to the town since, but I’d really like to go again and see what other truly creepy things happen there.
27. Not Paranormal But Definitely Terrifying
When I was growing up my family moved to a cul-de-sac when I was around 8 and my brother was in the ballpark of 9. We immediately befriended two girls who lived next door to us who were basically our exact same age and we hung out with them every day. We would frequently go down to a bike path located behind the circle of houses that occupied our street to ride around on our skateboards, walk to the nearby shopping center it eventually led to (it was very long), and basically just hang out. The bike path went through the woods and went in both directions for a long time and we would often wander into the woods and play in the creek and catch crawfish and frogs and all that Huckleberry Finn kind of stuff. Well the first or second week we lived there my brother and I and these two girls were playing around in the creek a good ways down from our house and we went exploring into a short sewage pipe. It was barely 20 feet in total and you could easily see both ends, which drained into a collection of large rocks. Well after we had sufficiently crawled around in this sketchy rainwater runoff pipe, we started climbing up the rocks to leave. My brother noticed something in the rocks and picked it up to discover that it was a small, wallet-sized, and
My brother noticed something in the rocks and picked it up to discover that it was a small, wallet-sized, and relatively recent portrait of himself that had been taken at our school for the yearbook the prior year. It had signs of aging and water damage and seemed to have been there for a while. I think our initial reaction was to laugh at my brother for looking goofy or something, but looking back I can’t believe I didn’t see how sinister it seemed. Kept going back for a long time and it was not the last creepy thing to happen on that bike path or in that neighborhood.