The Basement at my Grandparents house.

When I was 5-7 I used to love my Grandparents house. I spent alot of time with them in their home. Their home was a 2 story, 4 room house. Old of course. But anyway, there was a basement they said never to go into.

I looked to them so I usually never went in there and trust their word. One day, on a weekend night when I was around 7-8 I was at their house alone because they where getting pizza as usual. I was watching TV and eating some food left over. But then there was a big, loud knock from bellow me. I thought nothing of it, because it was a old home and made creaks and other strange sounds. About 2 minutes later it came again. Again, I dismissed it as a old house noise. When it came again about 2 minutes later I became worried. I curled up on the couch with a blanket and just tried to focus on the TV.

Then, the knocking came from the basement door in the kitchen. It was frantic knocking like someone was trying to escape. I started crying because it was night time and I was scarred and someone was knocking. Then I heard something like a door breaking down. Then the house went silent. I was crying really bad now and under the blanket hiding myself. It was very cold in the house and the TV was now turned off. (I turned it off to not draw attention to myself)

The silence was horrible. When I heard the doorknob turn on the main door, I nearly jumped. It was my grandparents and when they saw me crying they asked what was wrong. I told them everything and my grandpa looked at the basement door. Then he said, “Its good that you didn’t open that door.”

– Fearwolf 224

The Basement

I am not a stranger to the paranormal. Ever since I was 12, I noticed we were not alone in this world. The story I am sharing is not my first experience, but the scariest so far.

I was 16 at the time. Due to my parents being divorced, I had to go see my father every other weekend. He recently moved to a new rental. This rental has a bit of a story. You see, the previous owner of it just let his animals die. We would always find bones in the yard. Being in the country side gave me very little things to due, and outside was not an option due to the landlords’ business was run on the same lot. Shortly, my right to stay upstairs in the living room was taken away by my step-mother. My room became my sanctuary.

My room was in the basement. As time went on, I started to notice a presence near my room. The presence slowly grew over time, but never bothered me during the day. I would always forget about it as I went to bed, but the presence was stronger when all the lights were off. I slowly became paranoid, so I turned on my favorite rock station to ease my nerves each night. Then the presence became over baring. I made the mistake of looking at my door as I tried to sleep.

Through the crack, a bright, golden orb appeared. I blinked, thinking I was just tired. The orb slowly turned into an eye ball. I made contact with a creature’s eye. The malice that came from that one contact was enough to force me to stay awake all night. The creature just stayed there, watching me. Each time I would move, the eye would follow. I could not turn on the lights, for the switch being right next to that door. Being the fool I was, I forgot my cellphone charger at my mom’s house. I was not able to reach my father. I was frozen in fear. No one would be able to help me.

I was awake for what seemed liked days. Not sleeping well the night before did not help me at all. I started to hallucinate without knowing, the laughter from the hallucination brought me back to reality. I was seeing spiders everywhere, this was a great shock due to my extreme fear of spiders. That is when I knew I had to get out of there. Not having a flashlight, I took a weird disco stick I got at some event. I ran for the door and turned on the lights. The creature was still there, but I had to get upstairs. The fear was getting worse by the second. I swing the door open and run for the stairs, the automatic lights tuned on as I ran up. I fumbled as I opened the door to the upstairs. Dread began to fill up. Once in the upstairs, I slam the door shut, locking it in the process. I looked out the front window to see the sun beginning to rise.

The after shock from the event kept me awake. I sat on the couch, with a small blanket on me. I doubled checked that all the doors were locked. Not that would help with anything, but it helped my mind calm down a little bit. I was out before my father got up, and they were all shocked to see that I was on the couch. I told them something was up with the basement, but they never believed me.  I would never get enough sleep for three months after the incident, but my father got another divorce and lives in a better place.

Recalling this experience is not kind to me, nor my memory. Only event that is still  completely vivid is that golden eye through the small crack of my door. I never felt fear like that before. I honestly have no clue what that thing was, or what it wanted with me. Who knows how long it had its sights on me. I will give my deepest sympathy to who lives there now, but hopefully my old bedroom is just a storage space like most basements should be.

He keeps calling my name

This is a story that initially never seemed that scary to me — mostly because I only connected the dots a few years ago. We were at a friend’s house for the night and wound up talking about the paranormal and our own experiences with it, and while I was recounting what I’d always dismissed as a creepy waking dream I realized it wasn’t so banal after all.

When I was little I never slept during the day — actually, even today I have a hard time taking a power nap. And of course during the naptimes in my daycare I never could fall asleep, but I was required to lay in that darkened room on my colorful mattress anyway and stare at the ceiling while everyone else dozed off. We were mostly on the floor; there were a few bunk beds along the wall but they were not nearly enough for all of us. So the bed spots rotated and the mattresses covered for the rest of us. Or, well, I was always on a mattress: I didn’t sleep, I didn’t get a bed. It was better that someone who actually needed to get comfortable for napping got one.

One day I was lying there as usual. The room had two doors facing each other on the opposite walls and I was right by the other one. The teacher was sitting there between them but I had unobstructed view of the other door, the one that lead to the entrance. There was a little bit of light streaming in through the heavy curtains on the windows and under the doors.

I guess I must have fallen asleep, as much as I have heard that I never did sleep. Because I saw that the door opposite of me was suddenly open and light was streaming in. But I could not see into the entryway because there was a very, very large man, or the shadow of one anyway, in the doorway. He was wearing a hat and a long, wide coat, and his head reached almost to the top of the door frame. I never saw the man walk there or open the door: he was just suddenly there and the door was open. The teacher did not react so I did not either, thinking I’d be punished for getting up.

The man did not move. But as I watched him, a feeling filled my mind. He was there to take me somewhere. He wanted me to go with him. And I wanted to go with him, too. He felt safe, like a parent, and it must have been important if he was getting me in the middle of naptime.

But I still was not allowed to move. And the teacher didn’t seem to even see the man. Something told me that she would not understand if I tried to tell her. So I did not go to the man. Eventually he disappeared, and the door was shut again.

That in itself might’ve just been a dream. In fact, I thought it was — until, like I said, I was telling the story to a friend at a sleepover. See, this disclaimer is precisely the point in my narration when I realized something. Because ever since that day, or somewhere around it, I heard my name being chanted in my ears every time it got quiet. It made me quite the chatterbox, actually: I didn’t want to hear the voice. It felt like it was accusing me of something. The man had wanted me to go with him and I did not, and for that I was a bad child. Eventually, when I was around fifteen, I realized that I did not hear the voice anymore.

I never actually thought I was being called. It wasn’t an auditory hallucination. Rather, it was the hum that just sometimes appears in your ears gaining a rhythm and then forming into words, or rather a word. Just “Maai-va, Maai-va”, over and over and over and over again, ever until some other noise drowned it out.

Then, two years or so ago I started hearing my mother call me from downstairs when she was sleeping, or not in the house, or just not calling my name. And this time it sounded so real that I often called back, asking what she wants. A few times I even went downstairs just to find the whole house empty. Now that, too, has gone away. It did often happen when I was already listening to music and sometimes upon playing it back I would find that it was some sound that I just mistook for my mom’s voice. But not every time.

I’m not sure what to do — or whether I should even do anything. Honestly, I am still not adequately scared, I think. I keep thinking of the figure and how often I have regretted not going along with it. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know what it is going to do next. The one thought or idea I have about it is simply this: it is a Grim Reaper. And for some reason it wants to get me early.

The house in the forest

This is a true story that I am going to tell you. It was the summer of 2016 in North, me and my cousin (who will remain unnamed due to privacy) were hanging out at his place bored out of our minds. So we had the idea of exploring some of the trails that go deep into the forest, we had permission to go into those woods by the old man who owned all the property. He had recently bought the land a few years prior. He made a statement saying that alot of the trails down there are unexplored, he told us to remain cautious because the property spans out for miles. So we both grab our four wheelers and head to the trails.

We’re driving through these trails, creepy as hell as would any forest would be. We make notes of every turn and certain key details to help us avoid getting lost in the dense forest. After 30 minutes if driving down the paths we come across a somewhat clear patch in the forest but what we saw shocked us the most.

What we saw was an old, abandoned 2 story house. The path had large ditches completely filled with water on each side. Me being the dumbass I am let my curiosity get the best of me, persuaded my cousin to go explore the abandoned house. We park the four wheelers facing the path we had entered from. Walking up to the house made me feel, strange. I felt like I was being watched by some unseen presence.

After entering the house it was completely empty, carpet ripped out, wires hanging out of the sockets all that stuff. We decide to look around just for the fun of it. Nothing of interest was in the first floor, so we decided to go explore the upstairs section of the house. Walking up the stairs they started to creak which made the situation kinda creepy, but we kept going up.

Upon stepping on the floor, I saw one of the bedroom doors were open. Walking into the room we saw through the window , a somewhat large pond in the backyard. Examining the pond I noticed what I thought to be someone or something rising out of the pond, I shrugged it off as me seeing things. Then I could clearly see I’m seeing some humanoid figure standing in the middle of the pond. Covered in moss, twigs , muck. This thing seemed to be staring blankly at the lower portion of the house until it looked up at me.

Piercing, yellow eyes. Like they were gazing into my soul. My cousin asks what I’m looking at and the expression on his face, never have I seen him have such a scared expression. We decide it’s best we leave as soon as we can.

Then we heard the back door open. We sprinted out of the house and jumped on our four wheelers. Driving off I decided to look back and we saw that thing, looking down at us from the upper left room.

To this day we don’t know what we saw. Never again will we go into those woods again.

The Ghost Train

Let’s start this story with the simple fact, that I am not a religious man, And I don’t truly follow any kind of religious belief. But this made me start to think that something else could be out there in this world.

This happened when I was a young man, maybe at most 15, My one buddy who has passed away recently, Was walking with me along the coal train tracks with me, Let’s stick with his nickname, We called him Seamonkey. But it was late in the evening, had recently rained and a small bit of fog had rolled into the area, and we decided, to go for a walk along the train tracks, for a bit of fun and exploration. We were always the exploring type of young kids, the old mill, the trails across the bridge, and even some of the abandoned houses of the town. But today, was different.

We both felt like something was wrong, the fog seemed thicker and almost gaseous,  The smell that normal fog had the clean scent was gone, it smelled this time like rotten flesh, and blood. We thought at first that the smell was coming from a possible dead deer or other animal that might have gotten hit by one of the trains that still come through the area. But we couldn’t see anything near the tracks or even around them, We were starting to get a bit freaked out now cause the fog seemed to thicken a bit more. When we finally heard a noise. A low deep whistle, Howling through the fog and the area.

We froze in place, but quickly got off the actual tracks moving to stand in the gravel that the tracks were surrounded by, And moved closer to the edge of the hill side which dropped down to the river, thinking it might have been one of the coal trains that came through. But soon we were proven wrong, As we watched and waited, we saw it, A single glowing red light coming towards us on the tracks. We both looked at each other at this time, and Seamonkey asked me. “What the fuck?” I replied with “I have no idea, dude!” We both couldn’t even move as we watched it coming closer, only to hear that whistle blow again, This time though we both wanted to run, but we were half way through mill and the town, so we had no were to actually run.

By this time though, we could make it out, it was a train, but was different, It seemed the fog was coming from the train itself, And we could see that it was not on the tracks, but floating above it. As we stood there horrified it slowed, and stopped near us, releasing a hiss of the fog, As we stared in fear, the door on the engine opened up, and a hand extended from it, beckoning us to come closer, We backed up now, finally finding our strength in our legs, when we heard a voice come from the conductors door. “Are…you lost? Come in.” That was when Seamonkey shouted out in fear and spoke to me again. “It’s not human!” That was when I noticed it myself, we could finally see the Conductor, It was a man, in olden clothes, almost like from the fifties, but his face, was angular he had a small pencil like mustache, but his eyes, was what finally shook me out of my stupor, They were red and slightly glowing, and the whites of his eyes were black. He spoke to us again at this time.

“Come boys, I will take you were you belong, don’t be afraid.” At this Seamonkey and I backed up, and I remembered something my Mother use to always tell me, That Train tracks were the home to the lost souls, and the Devil’s train would come for those it deemed lost. As I said when I started this story, I am not religious, but I did remember the Lord’s prayer. I started reciting it. At which this man visibly recoiled lightly, before he chuckled softly. and said one last thing. “Ah…Your both still of this world, No matter, It is not your time for me it seems. Safe travels….My two lost souls.”

With that he closed the door, and the train began to move again, we watched as it passed us, looking at the windows, seeing various types of people, but they all seemed sad, and lonely, as it passed fully the fog lifted, and Seamonkey looked at me as spoke “What in the fuck was that!” With a shaky breath I watched the train continue to travel away from us and I only could answer one thing. “That…was the Grim Reaper’s train. It thought we were dead, and came for us. The Devil decided we were right…But we survived.” With that we both started to move faster, and soon reached the town again, and booked it to my house, where we told myMother what happened, she turned white and quickly stood up grabbing her cross and blessed us both, and told us. “That train will come for you both….I hope you will resist it…” Now, til this day I still see that train once a year, and hear the whistle from time to time, I know that Train is waiting for me, and when my time comes, I know I have to board it, But I warn you all, If you see this train, DON’T TAKE THE RIDE!