White Beast of Eastern Tennessee

By XcisionMist

Tonight I want to share my story. A story that makes me tear up just talking about it.

I live in the middle of no where with my family, grandparents, uncles, cousins ect. And just about every one of them owns a horse or dog. On top of the mountain there are trails that lead out to places where you can see for miles upon miles of beautiful mountains and rivers but your are sure to get back before night because at night its so dark you cant see your own feet and the woods is so thick you make sure not to stray from the trail.

The Hooded Man

By TheTrojanToaster

Okay. I just need to justify this; this is 100% fact, and, although it may seem unrealistic/ridiculous, it actually took place.

Around 4 years ago, I was walking home from school with my dad. On the way to and from my school, there’s this road bordered by two pavements (I’m British, so I’m going to use MY vocabulary) of which I walk down the one to the left on the way to school and the right on the way home.

The Red Emblem

By Thomas

This one is going on Paranormal because i don’t know what else it would fit under. It was by far one of my strangest experiences to happen to me, but not by far the scariest.

My first job was at a movie theater, and we had the main lobby, and on weekends we had side concession stands that we would use in the theater areas. If you were on side duty it meant you were by yourself for hours at a time, and had to stock, make popcorn, and handle people’s orders. Pretty basic and easy tasks. Most nights i would just stand and day dream or listen as best I could to the closest movie playing while mopping.

Shoes on the Catwalk

By Thomas

I have posted a couple of times here previous, and will honestly post time to time with my experiences. I have always tried to dismiss what i have seen with logical reasoning, because who wants to always jump to the paranormal? This one is different from the rest because there was a class of about 24 people who all experienced this.

I went to a High School called Parkland, and we had a very nice theater. It had a catwalk that was high above the theater seating and stories tell of a man while building who slipped and fell to his death. This man’s ghost supposedly haunted Most of us theater rats (As we nicknamed ourselves) just blew this off as the drama department being melodramatic.

Overactive Imagination

By Hexxe

Let me preface this by saying that, as a child, I had what many called an overactive imagination. It probably came about due to my lack of friends (I was an only child who spent most of her time with her nose buried in a book) and how often I had to entertain myself; all those hours of solitude meant that I could weave fantastic adventures, such as taking a lonely girl in a cheap swimming pool and turning her into a fierce siren, hunting for sailors to drown.

One thing I clearly remember, and this ties into the imagination aspect, was how vivid my dreams were. I often woke up thinking they were real, that they had happened, and it could take as long as ten minutes for it to dissipate completely. One of my dreams reoccurred frequently enough that I finally asked my mother about it, only to watch her face go white from shock. For a bit of backstory, my mother and I lived with my maternal grandparents in a subdivision that rested on some pretty steep hills. The house, which had a brick base and white panels, had what they used to call a half-basement — essentially, because of the incline of the hill, only half of a basement could fit under the house without paying more to excavate more, which I guess the original owners didn’t want to do. This half-basement had three rooms; one, a large one not unlike a living room, right at the base of the stairs, a smaller bedroom off to the side with a closet, and a long, narrow storage room that ran the length of the basement.

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