Killer from the Grave

It’s been months since my encounter with that humanoid canine thing, and it was in the back of my mind at this point.

Me, my best friend Kevin who saved my life during the dogman encounter, and two others, who we’ll call Cole and Drew were off work one night and we wanted to do something.

That’s when I remembered I had an ouija board in my truck and suggested we all take it to a graveyard. So we met at Waffle House, ate, and piled into my truck.

I was driving, Cole was in the cab, Kevin and Drew were in the bed of the truck. On the way there, I kept messing with Kevin and Drew by brake checking them and jerking the steering wheel so they were practically in a roller coaster.

When we arrived, we grabbed the board and went into the middle of the graveyard. We all set up the board and I started by asking for a name. It just picked out random letters. I asked it to try again, this time it called itself “Satan”.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Any spirit can call itself Satan or The Devil to scare you, but very few dare to take the angel name Lucifer. Those are the ones you don’t want to meet.

I then asked the spirit now called “Satan” how old it is. 6-6-6. I wasn’t surprised.

Drew, being the moron he is, asks if Cole has a big penis. The planchette remains still in answer to his idiocy.

I asked “Satan” if he wants us dead. He of course, responds “yes”.

That’s when it got scary. Drew heard footsteps somewhere, Kevin heard what sounded like a blade scraping against one of the gravestones, and then I heard a voice saying “Die!”.

We moved the planchette to goodbye and packed up the board and hopped in my truck.

I was just thankful that the horror movie cliché if the vehicle stalling didn’t happen.

As I drove, Cole kept checking the back of truck to make sure nothing was hiding there, as we were all so terrified that all four of us got in the cab of the truck.

Let this be a lesson, that ouija boards are fun until you let the moron of the group ask questions to demons.

College Haunting

Everyone in our town knows that the college campus is haunted. It is one of those things that you grow up telling spooky stories about at sleepovers, making all the other girls squeal when you suddenly pull out the jumpscare. It wasn’t anything a lot of people really ever worried about, unless you went to the school.

I started college there back in the fall of 2010 as an art major. That meant I had to spend a lot of time in the humanities building. According to rumor, that was the most haunted building on campus. I have always been sensitive and over the years of doing things at the campus (it was the largest auditorium and what not in the town so a lot of plays and recitals happened there) I had felt many things over the years, but nothing much had really felt dangerous to me. I would get bad feelings around backstage and on the stairs that led down to the basement, but I generally shrugged them off as me just being a paranoid little kid.

After the first month or so, I got involved with a small group of people that enjoyed going ghost hunting on the weekends and they had gotten special permission from one of the art professors to stay in the building late that night. I was invited to go on this little hunt as my first tester trip. They wanted to make sure that I would stay calm.

We get there, go through a little safety spill, and break up into groups. Nothing much happens for the first little while, but then I suggest we head to the dark room on the 2nd floor. Earlier that week, I had an experience in there and thought that maybe we could find something. Two of us out of the group go inside while the other two wait in the hallway. We begin a bit of radio scilence to start the EVP session. During that time, I kept feeling something touching the back of my shirt and gently tugging on the hem. I stay quiet and ignore it, hoping that maybe a voice was caught on the recording.

We started to ask questions and the tugs on the back of my shirt become harder to ignore. I told the person I was investigating with and he began to ask who it was that was tugging on my shirt. I began to feel extremely warm and uncomfortable in there and told him that I really wanted to get out of there. I am quite claustrophobic and two people in a small darkroom was pushing it for me. However, the thought of an unseen entity wanting to mess with me while I was in such an uncomfortbale position made it worse.

We went out into the hall and listened to the recordings. There was nothing there but white noise, our voices, and some whispering that we couldn’t really make out. We chalked that up to the AC units in the building kicking on (it was still hot as hell, even though summer was wrapping up).

The rest of the time spent in the two small groups was rather uneventful. We came back together at about 2 am so that we could all go down into the basement together. I wish I had never gone.

We all took our positions in the prop filled basement (costume and prop storage for the drama department) and turned on a UV light. One of the guys said that he had read somewhere that entities might be attracted to it. A volunteer went and shut off the lights for the basement and we began to wait.

Once the lead said he was ready to turn out the lights, I got this distinct feeling that doing that would lead to a bad time. I told him not to, basically begged him not to, but out went the light.

That is when I felt something cold close around my neck.

I couldn’t breathe. It felt like something was pulling all of the air out of my lungs and I could not stand. One of the guys caught me and that ended the night’s investigations.

I had red marks on my neck that faded after a little while, but the guy that caught me had very tiny scratches near his eyes.

There were no investgations for the rest of the semester.

The following semester, we all decided that we needed to have one more go at the building and see if what had happened was just a fluke. We broke up into our groups again and had a rather uneventful night until a little after midnight.

While I was inside of a piano practice room, with one of the others, the peace of the building was shattered.

We heard a scream, the sounds of running down the stairs, the door to the stairway opening and closing, the door to the outside opening and closing, and then the stairway door opening and closing again. The only problem with the second opening and closing of the stairway door is there were no footsteps to go along with it.

We were all called to the auditorium for a little meeting. Turns out, that the two that ran out of the building had been investigating near the 2nd floor darkroom. While near the darkroom, they began to hear noises from inside the room and gentle knocks on the women’s restroom door. On an EVP, they heard something say MY NAME right before something inside the darkroom fell. That is what sent the others out of the building.

Because of this, I was asked to leave for the safety of the rest of the group. I was really bummed about that of course, but I left. One of my friends in the group said they would come and see me after.

The rest of this story was told to me by this friend. I have no recollection of this and that really freaks me out.

My friend came to my house after the investigation was over and he found me sitting in the middle of my living room floor with papers covered in weird ramblings and drawings spread all around me. He freaked, called a friend of ours that practiced Wicca. She came over to smudge and bless the house, hoping to rid it of whatever was there. He said I was pretty out of it the entire time, but I seemed normal the next day. I am so grateful that he came to see me instead of going straight home. There is no telling what would have happened if he hadn’t.

Now, all these years later, I still sometimes feel something dark in my house. I’m not sure if this entity followed me from the college or was latched onto me before all of that. All I know is that I now sleep with holy water and my father’s rosary beads beside my bed.

I saw him on the bus

I saw my ex boyfriend on the bus today. That isn’t necessarily scary, so much as stress-inducing. But let me give you some backstory so you’ll understand why it upset me so much.

I’m an eighteen-year-old female on the west coast of Canada, and when I was dating this guy – we’ll call him Cam – I was sixteen. We had a really strong relationship, as we were best friends before we were romantically involved. We dated for almost a year, until I went out of province to Quebec on a summer exchange to learn French. At the same time, Cam went to a cadet camp in Alberta with his squadron. When we came home, I received a message on facebook from a girl in Alberta who claimed that Cam had cheated on me with her. When I confronted Cam about this, he confessed that she was one of five girls that he had cheated on me with. Needless to say, I dumped him.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder, and after the break up I became incredibly depressed. I hadn’t wanted to break up, and I was still really attached to him. I attempted suicide, and ended up in a coma in the hospital after overdosing. I woke up after a day, and when I was fully recovered I was moved to the Psychiatric ward. I actually have a few other stories about people in the psych ward that I can write later, if requested.

While I was in the psych ward, they informed me that I was pregnant. I had no idea, considering how it had only been a few weeks along. I contacted Cam, as he was the father, and he proceeded to tell all of my friends and peers at school that I had cheated on him and had attacked him. That that was why I was in the psych ward. When I was released and returned to school, everyone seemed afraid of me. Cam was more popular than me to begin with, so many people believed the rumors he spread about me. Luckily, there were a few really nice people at the school who supported me, and who believed my side of the story. I’m still friends with those people today.

By the time graduation rolled around the corner, almost no one believed Cam anymore, and people were starting to resent him for being such a douchebag and lying. I hadn’t spoken to him since I told him about the pregnancy, and I ended up loosing it because of the trauma from the suicide attempt. So I had no reason to talk to him.

About a week before grad, and the night before prom, I had stayed late afterschool to volunteer to set up the gym for the dance. It was dark when I walked out the front doors, and stepped out onto the veranda that bordered the parking lot. I checked my phone because my mom texted me, saying she was almost there. I was looking around the parking lot for her car when the high beams of another car flicked on and blinded me. I remember hearing the engine revving, and using my binder to shield my eyes from the light. The next thing I knew, I was knocked onto my back, and I was staring at the front grill and license plate of a vehicle. I couldnt breath, and my legs felt numb. They were tucked under the front of the car, and the fender hovered over my pelvis. The engine revved a couple more times, before it reveresed, scraping the undercarriage on the rim of the curb, and peeled out of the parking lot. A couple of exchange students who were also volunteering ran over to me, and called an ambulance. I was alright, my knees were hyperextended from being hit by the front fender, and I had a concussion from falling backwards, but miraculously none of my bones were broken.

The police told me that the car lost speed when it went over the curb, and because the car had low clearance, the back tires couldn’t get over the curb. Think of the car like a see-saw, where the front end was lifted into the air with my legs underneath of it. The back end was on the road, while the car used the curb like an axel. That curb is the only reason I wasn’t completely run over.

My ex boyfriend was arrested for assault, as it was caught on the survellience cameras of the school. His car had dents where it had sat on the curb, and the fender had blood from my scraped knees spattered on it. I went to prom with my friends and two leg braces. That was the last time I had seen Cam.

A few weeks after graduation – I had received four different scholarships for graduating with honors – my mom broke the news to me that Cam had commited suicide. I had always felt a strong attachment to Cam, and it broke my heart to hear that he had passed away. I guess even though he had cheated on me, abandoned me while pregnant, lied about me, and attacked me, I still loved him. I know, it’s stupid. I went to his memorial, and I wrote in the guest book about the great times we had before we broke up. I wanted to remember him as the Cam I love, the one that was care-free and full of adventure. He might not have been a star citizen, but nobody is worthless, and I hurt everyday thinking how lucky I was to survive a suicide attempt, when so many others don’t.

Since I nearly died in the hospital over a year ago, I have had numerous experiences that I might classify as paranormal. Perhaps I crossed to the other side and came back, and the connection was never lost. I have seen what I believe to be shadow people multiple times. As well, I have encountered people who look completely ordinary, but who have disappeared or teleported before my eyes, and who other people don’t seem to see, leading me to believe they were ghosts or entities of some kind. Again, those are other stories and if you want to hear those too let me know.

On my way home from school, on the last bus out of downtown, I sat in the upper story of the double-decker bus. I was the only one on the second floor. I put my ear buds in and leaned my head against the window, preparing for the long ride home. I remember watching the rain hitting the window, and how it made the city lights blur as they passed by. I suddenly got that feeling like someone was watching me, causing all the hair on my arms and neck to stand up. Focusing on my reflection in the window, I saw a familiar silhouette a few rows behind me. Startled, I sat up, ripped my ear buds out of my ears, and turned in my chair. As I thought, Cam was sitting two rows behind me, and he held eye contact with me. His eyes were the same sky blue I remembered, and they had laughter behind them, like they used to when we were together. I was still surprised, and I stood up into the aisle.

We continued to stare at one another, and I couldn’t help feeling a little relieved to see him. Confused, yes, a little creeped out, sure. But happy that he was as handsome as I remembered him to be. He had that little coy smile that complimented his dimples, like when he was plotting to tickle me or prank me in some way. I could see the hair at the back of his head standing up, like he forgot to use hair gel to fix his cowlick. Slowly, I started to step towards him. His hands were in his lap, and I could see he had the dark band of the friendship bracelet I made him on his wrist. He was nervously playing with it. Seeing him so perfect and happy made my eyes tear up.

A sudden jolt from the bus rocked me off balance and my eyes dropped to the floor as I steadied myself. When my gaze returned to Cam’s chair, it was empty. I stood their in disbelief for a few more seconds. The plastic chair was ice-cold when I ran my hand over it. I could smell the faintest whisp of his cologne in the air. I returned to my chair, and continuously glanced over my shoulder the entire ride home, hoping to see Cam again. He didn’t reappear, and I went back downstairs disappointed and wiping tears from my eyes with my sleeve.

As creepy as it was seeing a ghost, or maybe even a hallucination, I miss Cam a lot. It took seeing his ghost and feeling the rush of emotions that followed for me to realize how bad I missed him. I never really got over our break up, and I hope I see him again. I haven’t told anyone about the apparitions I have been seeing, and I don’t know if anyone would believe me. But I know what I saw. I hope he is proud of me.

Remember, suicide is never the answer. Believe me, I know that sometimes when you’re in so deep it feels easier to just swim down, but if you died you would just pass the pain on to other people. There are always people out there who care about you, and life will always go on. It might not seem like this, but all things pass. You are worth getting help. And you deserve to live.

Thank you for reading my story.

To Darkness Prevails,

I have been a viewer on your YouTube channel for awhile now, but I only recently subscribed and I’m not sure why it has taken me so long to be honest. Your channel is incredibly entertaining, and I encourage you to keep up your excellent work! As I mentioned, I’ve been listening to your story-telling for some time, and I figured it’s about time I contributed to your story supply.

Some themes of this story would be ghosts, paranormal, Canada, exs, school, city buses.Thank you for reading and thank you for your videos!

Sincerely, Meduse



First off, this is not my story, but one of my very good friends.Lets call him J. We have been friends since 4th grade (we are now in junior year) and from as far back as I can remember, J has told me weird things that happened around his house.

When his family moved in they discovered that the previous owner was a sniper from WWII named Elmo, and they even found classified documents in the attic about the work that he was assigned to.

As time went on J’s mom had gave birth to his sister, after this they began to experience some…. happenings around the house.

One story that really stood out to me was one that happened on father’s day.

J was very young at the time, maybe around 7, and he had forgotten to make something for his dad. He got up early in the morning to draw his dad a picture (note: his bedroom was right across from the kitchen, and there was a small hallway that connected the kitchen and living room. On one of the walls in the small hallway led to the basement) He grabbed his crayons and sat at the kitchen counter facing the small hallway. Happily coloring away, he glanced at the hallway, and what he saw there scared him so bad that he abandoned his picture, ran into his room and hid under his covers until everyone else woke up. He had seen a dark figure standing right in front of the door leading to the basement, being a little embarrassed about how he reacted, he decided to keep it to himself.

Later that night during dinner, J’s little sister was around 3 at the time, and said “daddy, who is that dark man that I saw?”

J looked up in surprise, there is no way that she knew about what he saw, he hadn’t said a thing about it. His dad nudged J,”Aha, it’s probably good ole Elmo!” J nervously laughed along, not letting his dad know that he had seen the same thing that his young sister had.
A month passed, and J had forgotten about the incident completely. His uncle was staying at their house for a while because he was moving into a new apartment close by and he was waiting for his stuff to get there.

One day while they were all at school and his uncle was at the house alone, his dad remembers getting a frantic phone call from his brother, when he picked it up J’s uncle started screaming about how there is someone in their house.

Now, years later, J and I started dating and I found out that his family had been plagued by spirits for generation, but that’s a story for another day.

When I’m over at his house now, especially in the evening, I tend to try and stay away from that hallway, and I swear…. I can feel someone watching me.

The Thing Behind The Door

I am only 12 years old, this event happened only a year ago. My family is only made out of my mom and my sister, so you can imagine how often I was left home alone. I was always able to feel presences, in fact my mom often has dreams about what will happen in the future.

I was in Colombia, in my mom’s house. When we first moved there, it felt like a pretty light energy around the house. Nothing dark, or “heavy”.

That was until around the third month, I was home alone, as always. But this time, it wasn’t normal. When I got home that day, I suddenly had a really bad headache. My dog never went into my room, even when we first got to that house, so it was pretty weird when I found him right in front of my bed, laying down.

My first thought, he must be enjoying the wind. But that’s when I realized, I never left my window open. For the next few hours, I slept on my bed with my dog by my side. When I woke up, I woke up to a black tall shadow of what it seemed like a man.

I froze when I realized he was right next to my door.

At first I thought it was all a dream, so I closed my eyes. But when I saw it standing still, right next to the door of the place I slept, in the house my whole family live in, I started panicking. My first reaction was to close my eyes and pray for it to go away. It didn’t happen.

Weeks pass by, and I can’t sleep anymore. The thing is still there, I don’t tell my mom or my sister because I’m afraid they might laugh at me and call me childish. I start having nightmares about this thing. The last nightmare I remember having is the house being dark, I had just woken up and felt dizzy.

My mom apparently wasn’t home yet, My sister and I were sleeping on her bed. But I saw a shadow, this time a girl, it looked like my sister. She was crying behind my sister’s door. I knew it wasn’t my sister because the shadow was completely dark, but there was still moonlight coming in. I felt like the shadow was crying because it was being tormented by another presence.

That’s when I knew, the man behind my door wanted to hurt me, and my family.

Many times I had tried to stand up to it, and tell him he wasn’t welcomed. But it only made him angrier, and angrier. I felt powerless, and weak because I wasn’t able to get him out of my life. Once I was home alone again, he would bang the doors, I would bang the glasses, and just tried to scare me.

I was already used to the fact that this presence might not leave my life ever. Until I got tired of it.

I stood up one day and not knowing what I was doing, I started screaming, telling him to stop and go fuck himself. I was tired of being harassed, and living in fear of what this creature might do to me. I did it for 3 days, and in the fourth day, I could finally sleep soundly. It was a horrifying experience. I don’t know what it was, or how I got rid of it, but even know, a year later, I still have nightmares, and sometimes I see him outside my backyard door. I know it’s him, I can tell.

It seems like no matter what I do, it follows me everywhere I go. Even if I move out of the country.