Glad I wasn’t alone

This happened about 3 months ago, which was September from today. Me and my friend Justin were gathering our gear to go for a deer hunt. It was a little past noon, so we didn’t expect animals to start moving yet, so we had some time to get prepared.

Our usual hunting spot is only a mile and a half walk from our property. The spot we like to sit from gives us a view of the whole area. It is on top of a hill, in a field. The woodline is directly behind us, so we are quite close to some deer bedding. I was armed with a compound bow, while Justin had a crossbow, with a scope.

Our plan was to sit till about 6, since it usually gets dark at 5:45. One thing about our hunt kind of had me on edge, and that was that the area was a bit quiet, besides the occasional leaf falling, or wind gusts.

Since we saw nothing, we decided to move down the hill, to get a different vantage point. I was putting my water bottle back in my daypack preparing to move, but a sudden crunch made us both freeze in place. I slowly drew my bow expecting a deer or coyote, but what we saw still haunts me to this day.

I saw deer like horns sticking out of the brush, so naturally I aim in that direction, thinking it’s a deer, but one thing was off. It was about 70 yards out so I waited before it came into the open to shoot, but when it moved into the open, I was stuck in place, and I’m sure Justin was the same.

First we smelled a rotten stench, similar to that of sulfur, or a rotting corpse. When it walked out, it had a head of a deer, with one feature that is sort of burnt into my head, and that is it’s eyes. Dark, empty, black pits in the creatures head.

It was about 4 and a half feet up on all fours, but that creature stood up like a human on its hind legs, scaling in at over 8 feet tall, so easily taller than me and Justin on top of each other, since we are quite short. It just stood there, gazing at the empty highway about a mile out. We tried to be silent to not get attention, so we didn’t shoot. I have never been so terrified in my life. Luckily when a semi engine braked, it scared the creature into the woods where it showed up.

We waited about 5 minutes so if we ran it wouldn’t hear us, or at least catch up with us, since I had a bow and a backpack to carry, and Justin had a crossbow. All I can say, is if you are going into the wilderness for any reason, don’t go alone. Take it from me, because no one wants an encounter like this to happen to them.

 

 

 

 

Scared Sober

I come from a huge, Irish family. I’ve got 11 aunts and uncles, not including their spouses, and each of them has from three to eight kids of their own. My grandparents used to tell us about when they were oppressed for being immigrants and couldn’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day publicly due to the strong xenophobia that surrounded Irish people when they were young. So, considering how large a family we have and how much we were taught to appreciate it, St. Patrick’s Day is a big deal for us.

Every year, we go to my tiny hometown, where the kids all get together and wreak havoc while every adult with access to alcohol gets so smashed that the older children have to corral the little ones before they start their own version of the purge. Everyone between ages 15 and 20 has to stay completely sober so we can make sure everyone else gets a safe drive home. I’ve had to get my fair share of aunts and grandparents back to their houses in the early hours of the morning, and by now I’m used to avoiding beer and taking care of them, even if I can now legally drink.

The year I’ll never forget, though, was in 2012, the St. Patrick’s Day immediately after I lost both of my grandparents on my father’s side. It really tore us apart, but we promised one another to have a great holiday, if only to honor their memory.

That year’s celebration was like most of them, with a few extra drunken tears thrown in, but all in all, it was pretty fun. Once the partying was over, it was my job to take most of my aunts and uncles with fewer children home, so I didn’t have to make more than one trip in the family van to drop them off. Last one on my route was Kenny, my dad’s older brother who lived in my grandparent’s empty home while his kids were staying with his ex-wife. I can’t imagine how hard it was to stay in that house after losing his parents, but he never complained.

A few things for context: this place is a huge farmhouse twelve miles from the nearest town, surrounded by fields and grazing area for the cattle my grandparents bred and raised. All the cows had been sold since grandma and grandpa died and the whole place felt unbelievably empty as soon as I pulled into the driveway.

Anyways, I got my uncle up to his old room, made sure he was okay, and started eating poptarts in the kitchen, which he promised to give me for being such a good sport and driving people home at four in the morning. I hadn’t been in the house since my grandpa was diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a baseball last November. I was right at the base of his skull, just to the left. He’d died from it a few weeks later. My grandpa was a tough, bald guy who like cigarettes just a bit too much, and I’d really looked up to him, so you can see why I really missed the old place. It smelled like smoke and the rain, and it was nice to see all the memories I had of my grandparents again.

As I finished up the last poptart and put on my jacket, I could see a figure sitting in the living room, looking at the TV. The chair whoever it was sat in was between myself and the television, and since they were looking at the TV, I couldn’t see them very well. All I knew was that there was some stranger in my grandparent’s house, and I was the only one awake and sober enough to make sure they didn’t do anything. Not taking my eyes off this guy for a second, I grabbed my pocket knife and the baseball bat my grandparents had kept in their cupboard full of collectables, which I’d bought for them since it was signed by the 1997 Chicago Cubs. I don’t know what I was planning on doing, really. Was I actually just gonna bash this guy’s face in and call the cops? I was a short, chubby sixteen-year-old with the muscle and dexterity of a baked potato, what did I really expect?

Armed, and practically pissing myself, I walked as silently as possible toward the person sitting completely motionless in my grandpa’s old La-z-boy. As I got closer, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I could see him more clearly with just the moonlight. From the back, he was pretty bald, had quite a few liver spots, and had asymmetric ears like all the people on my dad’s side of the family. I didn’t really notice any of these things about him, though, until I was able to see the gaping, baseball-sized hole in the base of his skull, just to the left. Once that caught my eye, I saw everything about him, and, aside from the hole, he looked exactly like my grandfather.

As soon as I had put the pieces together, the TV turned on, blasting static at a volume higher than what I thought the old set could handle. The sudden bright light from the television and loud noise made me cover my ears and blink furiously. The TV shut itself back off in what felt like less than a second, and when I opened my eyes again, the person sitting in my grandpa’s chair had vanished.

I sprinted to my uncle’s room, got him up, and ran with him, as fast as he would let me, back to the van. I pulled out of the driveway and gunned it back to my parent’s house like a bat out of Hell. As I drove off, I swear I saw the TV back on again and someone, still inside the house, staring at me.

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

 

Midnight Laughter

I live in Northern Wisconsin, where most of my family calls home. Except for my Father’s side of the family. They live in the middle of Minnesota, almost a 3 hour drive away from us. First and foremost, my family, especially my Father’s side, is very religious. Which is a large reason of why they never believe my odd experiences. I have never been the favored child either, always the clumsy and outcasted one. The one with the wild imagination. Two of the only family members around my age are my cousins, R and S. (For their privacy I will refer to them as their first initials). R is 9 months older than me, but always tries to act like I am the baby cousin. S is around 2 years older than me. We have always been close, when we were little we would take our Grandma’s hat pins, go around in a circle to each pick one, and then spill a secret to eachother, but recently we have been growing apart. It doesn’t help that I live so far away, or that I am having troubles with anxiety and depression. But back then, we were all attached by the hip.

The story begins at my Grandparent’s, with R and I begging to have a sleepover, they refused because she had church the next day. But our constant nagging and the thought of me not being able to spend time with her guilted our parents into letting me spend the night. Soon S arrived also, I was excited because I haven’t seen them in a very long time, and I had missed them. R’s house was a big one. There were 4 floors, including the basement. The main floor, with the kitchen and living room, upstairs with her parent’s room and two of her younger sister’s room along with the bathroom, downstairs with R’s and her other sister’s room, and finally the basement with its dark atmosphere, cold cement floors, and lots of closets. When we got settled in, i took a look around her room. Raggedy Ann dolls covered her shelves, normal for her but unsettling for me.

We were up for a while, talking and giggling. Then we soon fell asleep. I had a night terror about bugs crawling over me, ladybugs and ants. I woke up seeing them covering the bed with their squirming 6 legged bodies. I panicked but didnt want to wake my cousins up. Soon my eyes adjusted, and they disappeared. I was too tired to question what had just happened, so I went back to sleep. Suddenly, after what felt like seconds, I woke back up. I looked around, it was pitch black. Then, by movements my cousins made, I realized we were all awake. S and I were wide awake, feeling unsettled, but R was groggy and ready to go back to sleep, so she turned to face the closet. I looked out her open door and I swear i saw a faint glowing blue light coming from the top of the stairs. I told myself it probably wasn’t that late, so R’s parents were still up watching T.V.

After what felt like hours, we just sat in bed, unable to sleep. Then I heard this low maniacal laughter coming from upstairs. S’s eyes met mine. We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Di- Did you hear that too?” I whispered. She nodded slowly, with her eyes wide open. “It could just be R’s parents watching a movie.” I proposed. The possibility of that increased as I thought about it. “Should we go check?” S replied. I nodded. It took us a couple tries to get R out of bed. But I still wasn’t ready for the walk through the dark to the upstairs, but I had to. I had to prove it was her parents, because there must be a reasonable answer to what S and I heard. We made our way upstairs, and I felt a pang of horror when I saw the dark livingroom with the empty couches. We ran upstairs waking up R’s parents, asking them if they were up and what we learned scared me even more than I could possibly think of. R’s parents were dead asleep. S and I begged for R’s father to look around the house, and thats what he did. No unlocked windows or doors, no sign of any intruders. But that was impossible, I had heard it! S had heard it too! S and I looked at each other in horror. Then we were told to go back to sleep. We obliged, and even though R spept like a rock, S and I got no sleep that night.

I still dont know why I had that night terror, or what laughed in the middle of the night. I have never had a night terror before or since then. We have never brought it up since.

Elmo

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.