3. The baby’s crib collapsed
My grandparents went to a party being thrown by a friend of theirs when they were just married. It was a few other couples, and as they were sitting around, the hostess mentioned she just got a Ouija Board but hadn’t tried it out yet. So my Grandma, and a few of the other ladies set it up and started asking questions. There was nothing too spooky the first few rounds of questions being asked. Eventually one of the women asked a question and the board spelled out ‘Go Home’ thinking it was the hostess making a joke everyone laughed it off. Everyone else asked their questions without much of a response until it got to the same woman, again the board spelled out ‘Go Home’. The next two questions she asked all she would see was ‘Go Home’. Everyone swore they weren’t moving the piece so the woman being freaked out got her husband and they left. When they got home they found the babysitter passed out on their couch and their baby’s crib had collapsed. The baby only had a couple scratches and was fine.
4. I saw the ghost of a crushed tunnel worker
I should preface this by saying it was, by far, the scariest experience of my life and it’s bringing tears to my eyes typing about it.
Basically, on the hill above the city I live, there are a string of rather large defensive forts. My grandfather was the curator and lead tour guide of one of these forts. They date back to Napoleonic times when the British were afraid of a French attack on the city, because of it’s importance to supplies and the navy.
They’re not incredibly creepy places – maybe that’s because I’d spend every weekend roaming the tunnels or doing errands there – but this one event left me shocked and incapable of going back down there alone, even 12 years later.
As I mentioned, under the forts are a network of tunnels that descend, in places, up to 100 feet below the chalk. Some of them are to access the defensive trenches that form the fort’s outer boundary, some of them contain gun emplacements. All of them are gently sloping, hewn from rough chalk and lit dimly by the only kind of lights that work so far underground – those dim mining ones that rely on the weakest electrical current.
All of the tunnels were familiar from me – they could all be accessed from a radial ‘hub’ that was right in the depths of the fort – except for one. I had always been forbidden to walk down it. The tunnel was of rougher construction than the rest, unlit, and never used. Other than that, from the top end, it was fairly unassuming – just something I was never allowed to see.
That was until I pestered my grandfather so much he decided to show me it. He grabbed a torch and we started down the tunnel. Immediately I regretted my decision – I wish I had photographs of it – but the smooth chalk walls I was used to in the other tunnels were replaced with this jagged texture that threatened to draw blood if you scraped them with an unlucky limb. My grandfather, curiously, was aiming the torch beam at the left wall of the tunnel, searching for something. He found it, perhaps halfway down. There, inscribed in the chalk, was a rough cross and a date that was nigh illegible.
“This is why you’re not supposed to come down here,” he said. “This tunnel was supposed to be condemned. Someone was crushed right here.”
A chill ran through me and I asked to leave. My grandfather chuckled and carried on, saying that there was nothing to worry about.
I started to get a bad feeling from then on, as if someone was following us. Eventually we reached the bottom – a fairly regular gun emplacement met us. Then we turned to leave.
The nature of the tunnels meant you could see all the way up to the other end, where a door-shaped piece of light meant the security of the radial hub.
What me and my grandfather saw chills my bones and, like I said, means I can’t go down there any more.
We were 100% sure we were the only people there – it was out of hours, and my grandfather always locked the main gate behind us when we entered the tunnel system to stop people trespassing and stealing the cannons or old munitions.
I swear to you Reddit, we saw the silhouette of a man slowly walk across the top of the tunnel, turn to face down to us, and then carry on. My grandfather is a brave man but he looked visibly aggrieved. What was worse – we knew we had to run UP the tunnel to get out, or be stuck in a 100 foot trench in the middle of winter. We had to pass the cross of that crushed tunnel worker.
I’ll end my story here – obviously I made it out alive – but when someone tells me they don’t believe in ghosts I tell them this story. Sorry for my verbosity. I have tears in my eyes right now.