well to start off, it’s my uncle David’s story, but my family has always had encounters with the paranormal. David is 40, served in the military until he married, then took a civilian job as a cop.
When David started working as a cop in Montana he was given the grave yard shifts. A lot of his job is driving along long roads surrounded by open land. He admits to it being extremely boring at times.
David and his partner where on the night shift when they got a call from someone complaining about a creepy man standing on a hill. It was the middle of winter and with such a low crime rate, my uncle figured it was just a homeless trying to find Shelter from the snow. So in the middle of the night in the freezing cold my uncle and his partner went out to find the homeless man and offer help.
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I was at a sleepover at my nan’s house and god I hated her and she hated me she would death stare me from the other side of the room. She never said hi or how are you just death stare I was going to be staying there for 2 weeks too make it worse. it started when she went to get milk and see some elder friends at bingo
so I had her house to myself and I never went in her room so I went in. There was only a bed nothing else but what creeped me out there was a Ouija board in the very middle of her room there wasn’t any doors or windows just that square room a bed on the side and the Ouija board. I was terrified but I was too curious My nan is huge on paranormal she tells my mum to get rid of my black cat saying it leads to death and is always saying how thankful she is for praying as she has seen and been attacked by demons but when she prayed they disappeared. So I sat down in the middle of her room and put my hand on the board and said “are you here?”
the Ouija board moved to yes I ran straight out of the room and slammed the door behind me WITHOUT ENDING THE GAME and ran straight to my bed and hid under the covers for what it seemed like hours but the whole time I felt something just at my bed until 2 hours pass and the feeling goes I creepy out of bed to my relief to hear my nan’s car pull up in her driveway
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This story begins with a sleepover. My sister had always thought our room gave her a weird vibe. Once she said that when I was sleeping I sat straight up in bed with my hair in my face and stared into the pitch black closet behind her. The next morning she asked if I felt possessed or felt weird last night. I said nothing happened but she moved out of that room after that.
Years after nothing happened but that was before my sleepover. My 2 best friends were over and we were having a good time. When every body was asleep I randomly woke up, and through my half closed eyes I saw a shadowed figure at the edge of my bed standing right in front of me. I thought it could have been my friend Hope but this figure had no face, they looked like nothing but a shadow. I turned around slowly as if I were still asleep. I was starting to get really freaked out, even angry. I turned around towards where the figure had been but there was nothing there.
I looked at my phone to see what time it was and it was exactly 12:00 A.M. I looked at my other friends still asleep wondering what had just happened. After that, I couldn’t sleep but now I was definitely not comfortable with my room. Every night now I stare at my closet thinking about what my sister had told me.
Hello, my name is Nathan I recently worked in a Nursing home. I was not a nurse but a dietary aide. Which ment I worked in the kitchen, I did what the cook did not do. The shifts I had were from 6 am to 8 pm. Sometimes I worked overtime either because the residents were slow at eating or because we had a new person. We had food trucks that held atleast 24 trays of food for the respective units. Things always seemed a little strange. So it was 5 pm. Bringing up the first food truck. I’m waiting for the elevator and behind me in the unused at the time, dining hall a wisper. I didn’t think much about it at the time thinking it was the building making noise. So I bring the food truck to the second floor, and come back down to prepare and deliver the next one. It felt colder when I got into the first floor. It was quiet.
The next day I am working another 6 am to 8 pm. So again at dinner time waiting for the elevator and I hear the wisper and this time I listened to it. It sounded like a small child, saying my name. I shrugged it off again thinking it’s just my brain over thinking and just fatigue after a long shift.
After serving all the food trucks and waiting for them to come down I go to the bathroom. I lock the door and hear a knock. The doors were locked and there was no family at the time. I asked who it was. There was no answer. I finish up and go grab the trucks and try to get out of there as soon as I can.
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Before I start the story, let me describe my house. All the bedrooms are on the second floor, clustered around a single hall in a way that makes getting any kind of breeze flowing through the house impossible. Also, because of many fights between me and my brother, Chris, the floor outside our rooms creaks incredibly loudly and time someone steps on it. Sorry if this is a bit unorganized. I’m pretty terrible at structuring or explaining things.
Recently, I found a very old diary of mine at the bottom of a storage container. In it I found some interesting entries about a series of events I had almost forgotten about. Given the terrible grammar and organization of my diary, I haven’t written out the entries and instead compiled them into a timeline of the five years I was haunted by “The Creakers”.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been an insomniac. That’s probably why I first started noticing them. They were tall shadowy figures with distorted faces and sometimes glowing eyes who would walk down the halls, floating a couple inches above the floor, but still having creaking footsteps. At the time I called them ghosts and my parents dismissed them as an overactive imagination and the hoe settling at night. As I got older, the list of things these ghosts did started getting longer. They watched me from under my bed and tapped on the walls. Sometimes they’d stand over my bed while I pretended to sleep and would become angry if they realized I was awake. You see, the Creakers hated being noticed, they would become angry if I told people about them or acknowledged their presence. Creakers also didn’t just keep to the night either. During the day they would slowly open doors and then slam them shut, which was impossible given the lack of airflow in my house. The sound on their footsteps and the hinges of the doors they opened is what gave them their name, “The Creakers”. When I turned eight I started seeing them less and less often, and by the time I was nine, they no longer roamed the house. I still hear knocking on the walls and door do open and close randomly. My bedroom door is even doing it as I type this. I have one diary entry that I’ve rewritten into something coherent that I’ll add.
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This was a couple years ago when this happened. My great grandma died at the age of 98. She was from Italy and then moved to American when she was only 14.
We were cleaning out her house and I was in her bedroom going through her closet then I stumbled upon a wooden box that said private do not open in Italian. My family and I talk in Italian to each other all the time so I’m pretty good at understanding it. I opened the box and I found what must of been my grandma’s diary. It was a dark brown leather book that was torn in some places. I flipped through the pages and something caught my eye. All the ink was black till the end of book when it was all red. I started to read some of it and I just got really creeped out.
It dated July 24th 1931. As I read it I got spooked and felt like something was watching me. I read two pages and it said it’s time to leave to America on my own. The red eyed demons are starting to hurt me now they tried choking me to death and scratching me to were I bleed badly. They won’t stop whispering in my head that I should kill myself since the deed was done. I scream at night saying get out of my head and just leave me alone but that only makes them laugh at me. They want my blood because they say it’s special. I don’t know why it’s so special. That’s why I had to kill my parents so they could have theirs instead of mine, but now they want mine cause mine is more powerful. I need to go to America and start over again and forget about everything.
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Let me begin by saying these events happened roughly four years ago, so some details may be foggy and inconsistent.
The year was 2013. Me and my family, being my mom and dad, were on vacation in Germany, visiting relatives. We were in the city of Weimar. For those that are unaware, Weimar is a relatively small city, with a population of about 66,000, according to Google.
It was the late evening of the second night of our vacation. Having just finished dinner, I wanted to go for a walk to stretch my legs. Even though the sun was nearly set, and it was quite dark, I had a decent knowledge of the streets surrounding our house, and I always enjoyed the cool night air of the town.
About 10 minutes into my walk, a light rain began to set in. The cobblestone was starting to become slippery, and my sneakers did not have proper grip. I decided to head back to the house, and opted to head through an alleyway as a sort of shortcut.
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This past Summer break, my sister and I went to the mountains in Blue Ridge, Georgia. We rented a cabin and were pretty excited to get there. It was about a 2 1/2 hour drive through mostly mountain roads. The GPS was pretty spotty, and I’ve had trouble with it before where it would get confused and send me a really roundabout way to my destination.
As soon as we started getting deeper and deeper into the trees, we started noticing some pretty creepy stuff. At one point, we drove by what looked like a dilapidated old trailer. We were driving pretty slow at this point because we were on a curvy gravel road. We were just being jerks and giggling at how rundown this place was when we noticed that a bunch of people started filing out of it and just stared at us as we drove past. Needless to say, I tried to go as fast as my little 4 cylinder car could handle.
That wasn’t the creepiest part, though. At one point, my GPS started getting REALLY confused, and kept trying to tell me to turn onto roads that didn’t exist. And I don’t mean ‘oh, there used to be a road there, but there isn’t anymore’ no- there were obviously never any roads where it kept wanting me to turn. I just kept going straight and watching the GPS glitch. Finally, for a brief moment, it stopped telling me to turn onto nonexistent roads and just said ‘EYES IN THE TREES’ instead of any road name or direction. Then, it blinked again and was giving me correct directions again.
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My glitch in the matrix
I saw the same person twice.
I’ve had the feeling of dejavu meny times, and the more I read about it the more the Matrix Theory makes sense to me. Especially after I experienced my own glitch in The Matrix.
It’s nothing to exciting, but its true.
I was walking down the street the same street and same path I’ve bee taking for 4 years, I saw a man walk past me he had blue jeans, a white coat, and a white knitted cap. He was a bit ahead of me and he disappeared around the corner.
A few moments later I saw him walking walking behind me, same jacket pants and white knitted hat. Walking the same pace.
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This story is very short, and not exactly creepy, but it is weird.
Sometime last year in 2016, I had decided to watch the newer music videos from one of my favorite bands, Black Veil Brides. After watching “Heart Of Fire” and “Goodbye Agony”, I clicked on the thumbnail for the official music video for “Faithless”, excited to watch it because I hadn’t seen it yet.
I vividly remember watching the video at least three times before deciding I had watched enough stuff on Youtube for the day. A few days later, I had the urge to watch it again and looked it up, but ran into a problem.
It was gone.
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