The Count’s Bird-cage

I worked a small time park maintenance and upkeep job a few years back for a local park. It’s no Yellowstone, but I grew up there, hiking the hills and exploring the forests. When I got offered a job working there I took it without a second thought, even though it didn’t pay well – just my way of giving back to the park.

I have more than a few stories from my time there, trekking about with a shovel and saw for whole days at a time, but my favorite tale comes from a co-worker of mine, who I knew as Mikhael. Mikhael had a particular nickname among my fellow crewman – The Count. This was, as far as I could tell, in reference to his angular European face and dark black hair. The Count was around 50 or so when I met him, and yet he had such a love for the forest that he stayed in his part time volunteer job.

The Count was a very kind and gentle man – he would help out with anything you asked, was always kind and compassionate. Of all the things I remember about the Count, one thing that’s always stuck was his love of telling tales of adventures in his home county of Poland. His passion for said stories are part of why I log and spread them as much as I do today. The Count told, no pun intended, countless stories, and many of them I can recall somewhat. Only one of them has really stuck with me all these years later, and it was the last one he ever told me.

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siri, look up “DEMOn”

I used to be a real Apple-head. The kind of guy who got every new product no matter if I needed it or not. I’ve got a Samsung now, and the reason I switched… nobody believes me when I tell them. Except for my grandmother, that is. Let me give you a little background.

My grandma on my dad’s side, her name’s Berith, is a real luddite. She doesn’t even have a phone, much less an iPhone. But she wasn’t always like this. Whenever we (me and my beautiful twin sisters) ask her why she is this way she usually just changes the subject, but one time during a family reunion when she had too much to drink she finally gaves us the truth…

Apparently when she was a little kid and radios were becoming a commonplace items in the American homestead, she got her own radio. She would love listening to the news and music alike, but one time, after a sleepover, one of her friends (or so she thought) had written the number 666 on the radio dial. Grandma was annoyed, but she turned it on to the channel that was now labelled 666 and something weird happened. A voice emerged from the radio saying, in a demonic voice, “I will kill you and everyone you ever cared about”. She was shocked, obviously, because you can’t air that kind of stuff, especially not back then! In her surprise, she accidentally knocked it over and it fell down to the floor, broken. Suddenly it started talking again: “Hmph… I don’t take kindly to humans breaking my vessels. Next, I will take a vessel you would never want to break…” She obviously promptly threw it out, and if what she says is to be believed, to this day she has never owned an electronic appliance again.

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The demon on the road

When I still lived with my parents, I used to go for walks at night. It was just easier because we lived across from a factory and there was always a lot of traffic during the day. Plus, I had a cat named Miss Kitty that would follow me like a dog.

One summer night, probably 5 to 7 years ago, Miss Kitty and I went for our usual walk. We always walked to the end of the street where the field was because she liked to catch mice and I enjoyed watching her play in the field. Miss Kitty was playing and I got a text from my best friend. I answered the text and was waiting for Miss Kitty who was on her way back to me, (I was standing in the road. She was in the field.)

I stopped as Miss Kitty hissed. I turned, expecting to see the neighbor’s cat. Instead I saw a very tall, hunched over creature walking down the middle of the road towards the field. I was in the shadows and this thing was walking under a street light. This thing reminded me of a minotaur but it had a face like a goat. It had large shiny black hooves, black fur and large black horns. I grabbed Miss Kitty and snuck away from it. I got home, told my mom and we looked out the door but it was gone.

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My Dad Saw a Demon

This is my dad’s story that he told me once.  He was often reluctant to talk about it and would remain stone faced when he would tell his story.  He was never one to make up stories and didn’t have much of a creative imagination which helped people believe him.  My uncle also saw this demonic entity but will say nothing more than both he and dad saw it.

My grandparents divorced when my dad was eight and his mother was awarded full custody after his father signed away all parental rights to four kids.  Dad was the oldest of the four with my uncle being the second followed by two aunts.

My grandmother barely had any money so she had to rent a small two bedroom house in a bad area of town as it was all she could afford.  My dad and uncle shared one room, my aunts shared the second, and my grandmother slept on the couch each night.

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I live with a demon

I honestly didn’t believe in ghosts, demons and the such but now I do. I believe there is a demonic spirit in my house.

It all started three weeks after my family moved into the house we currently live in. Every time we would leave one of our rooms would be ramsacked by the time we came back. It would hit my Mom’s room harder then mine or my brother’s. Her mattress would be off the bed and her make-up would be everywhere.

When it hit my room my video game cases would be scattered around and my covers would be messed up as if someone had rolled around on my bed. At first we thought it was someone breaking in, but things started to happen while we were home as well. We began to hear whispers in our ears. My mom was woken up by something loudly saying “stop” close to her ear.

After a while my brother began to get increasingly angrier. My brother was never a mean person but something had changed in him. He would punch walls and scream at everyone. Eventually my mother got tired of it and kicked him out, after that he seemed to go back to normal.

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Alien, Demon, or Prank?

I was young, like second grade young. One of my mother’s friends had come over and she brought her son, and he in turn brought one of his friends. They were both older; My mother’s son his name is David if I remember right was probably mid to late teens, and his friend who we’ll call John because I can’t remember his name was probably preteens or so.

Now I should say that I used to live in a giant igloo, well my house was white and shaped like an igloo, set in the woods a bit. A parking space for roughly 5 cars to the right of the house near the garage which is connected to the basement the house was set into a steep hill, probably 45° or steeper I don’t remember. And surrounding the house was woods.

It was dark probably 9pm or later and the we, David, John, and I, were bored so I had the idea, Hide and seek!

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For personal reasons I won’t give out my real name, but this is not my story, it is my siblings, that she shared with me, she is 11, and says this only happened last night.

It was 4:06 AM, since our mom had back problems, and had put off wrapping til then, she would take the wrapped presents, and my sister would put them under the tree.

After this was finished, when our mother went back to our room to bed, she decided to stay up on her phone.

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Noche the cat

A few years ago, a stray cat randomly appeared in our neighborhood. He was a fluffy tuxedo cat with bright yellow eyes. I remember when I first met him, I called him Noche, meaning “night” in Spanish. I don’t know why I did, but it felt right. I have had cats for a good chunk of my life and none of them behaved like Noche did.

His behavior was a bit unusual. He followed me everywhere I went and I became his human. He would hiss at anyone that came near me. Sometimes he would hiss at things only he could see. He only appeared at night and by day he always seemed to disappear. Since the first night I met him, I would call out into the darkness of our street “Noche!”. Without fail out of the shadows he would appear.

Over time I started to notice more strange things. No matter where I was in the house, Noche knew from outside. Whatever room I went to, he would soon meow beneath the nearest window. It got to the point that he started doing that even without me saying anything. I used to think maybe he just listened for my voice, but that was not the case at all. Each night he would come only when called and he would accompany me for my evening walk. I walked usually at night to avoid the sweltering heat of the day. I thought it was odd that he would go for long walks with me around our neighborhood. Sometimes I would look at him and his ears seemed to elongate into sharp points and his eyes would glow red. At first I thought I was going nuts until my husband began to notice the strange stuff too.

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my childhood friend

My family is not a normal family, we have every race within us, from white, black, asian, mexican. Everyone has many stories to tell. Even the kids. so heres the backstory to mine and my dads worst experience.

Ill split this into 2 parts of the same story.

Part 1

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The Night I met death

When I was 15 years old, my life was in all kinds of turmoil. I won’t bore you with all of the little details, but I guess I could important to note that it was a tumultuous time in my life. My mom and her second husband were in the midst of a divorce, my younger two siblings were taken away by the state, and her and I were bouncing from couch to couch for months, using up all our good faith with family and friends.

Finally, my mother got approved for a mortgage, and she bought a little two bedroom house in town. After spending my entire life out in the sticks, I was a little disappointed at the fact that our closest neighbors went from miles away to meters away, but I was absolutely elated that I would finally have my own room again. I grew even more excited the day we moved in, when I saw it. My room was the entire upstairs! Though it was technically an attic, so the ceiling was a bit short, and I’d have to be careful not to hit my head on the rafters… It was still my teenage dream come true!

When I opened the door to my new room, I was greeted imediatly with a steep staircase leading up about 15 steps. Where the wall of the stairwell met my bedroom floor, there was a railing in place, for safety. I placed my foot on to the first step, and suddenly my excitement was replaced with a sudden urge to run. I complied to this urge, and booked it the whole way up the stairs.

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