Ouija Sleepover

Hi, my name is Angel, I’m currently 18, this happened about two or three years ago, so 16 or 15.

I have a best friend lets call her Elizabeth, who I experienced this with. She was maybe 15 or 14 , she’s a year and a day younger than I.

We decided to have a sleepover at my house, my house isn’t really that old, 50 or so years, I’m not sure.

Elizebeth and I decided to joke around saying ” Lets make an Ouija board ” but it was truly just a joke. She looked at me and said ” Sure , when though? ” I truly felt surprised, we both go to a private Christian school, she’s very religious but not a ” Holy roller ” Christian, I on the other hand have a ” It is what it is ” perspective on life, I worship the earth more, but I still believe in the Creator. I responded ” Tonight, is that okay? ” she looked at me and said ” Sure! ”

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The creature with red eyes

So to understand this story you need to know that I stay with my dad over the summer and both behind and in front of his house is woods but to the sides is neighborhood. It was my first night there and I was staying in my sisters room since I dont have one.

She started telling me a story of what happened to her friend and her. They where having a sleepover and saw mysterious red eyes outside the window. They went to go check it out and could only find that the flowers outside her window looked like someone had sat on them.

So this scared me since I was like 10 and had had many supernatural things happen to me. So I stopped sleeping in her room I slept on the couch but this didn’t help at all. So on just about the 5th day there I was going to sleep at 3am I always waited for my dad to get off work.

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Highcliffs Wendigo

I used to go camping. Almost all the time, really. Whenever my parents would suggest it, I remembered I would always get so excited. Needless to say, after this experience, I am not so keen on taking a trip into the wilderness.

To clarify, I was almost thirteen by the time of this story. I am currently a couple of months away from 21. The only reason I am sharing this story, is due to the fact one of my closest friends suggested we take a trip there over the weekend. Needless to say, I adamantly said no. Now , before I get too off track, let’s get to this.

As I said before, I was thirteen when I went on this camping trip over the summer. It wasn’t your normal one, it was actually a large gathering of families that traveled up to Highcliff. It was a trip for the rehab my mother was attending. Specifically for the patients who were near the end of their recovery. Truthfully, despite what I experienced I was so proud of her, and I was happy that the trip on her part was magical.

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Whats happens in cemetery stays in the cemetery

So the following story actually happened, and it happened in a small rural church in the Low Country of South Carolina. It was one of my first paranormal experiences and I have not been back since, and this happened 4 years ago.

My friends and I were at a family friend’s farm, it was me, P, A, and my sister T. We were driven their by P’s mom, and to help out the friend we agreed to all go to the church she helped run so P’s mom and her could help set up for the church the next day.

Now, if you’ve never been in old churches, sometimes they’re in the middle of a cemetery, and this cemetery had stones from the civil war era, and some even older so it was a very big and creepy area.

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The Summer Monster

I want to start off by saying I am now 21 and this is still happening, this is something that has been going on during the summer since before I was born but started getting bad when I was in summer vacation in middle school.

For more help to picture this, I live in mid-Michigan, not the drug and gun find parts, although I do live very close to a few hot spots. No, I live in the rural part. The part of Michigan that’s flat farmland with large patches of forests, where the DNR is constantly receiving stories of strange animals. The latest is an out of place big cat, er, cats I should say. Both jaguars and Panthers.

That’s not what I want to talk about though, I wish it was although I think this is way more interesting.

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Following the Sunset

I am a teacher’s aide and student at college on a small island of a family of islands in the tropics. It was summer break, which meant no work and no school for some time. This was my time to do me and unwind big time. On a good day at work I needed a lot of energy to run around, play with and teach the children. On a bad day at work I needed a lot of energy to run around, play with, teach the children and calm multiple screaming tantrums or little fights.

College is just papers, presentations and tests non stop, so summer break is my time for peace and tranquility. Consequently, one of the things I like to do is watch the sun rise or set over the sea.

On this particular day I decided to follow the sunset on the cliffs at the most western point of the island. As always, I went alone.

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I saw a skin walker in the desert

Now I know a lot of people may not believe this but I didn’t know where else to post this. Like anyone who listens to this we’re fans of scary stories. I chose darkness prevails to share this story because I think they do it the best. Anyway, I just never thought this would happen to me.

For some background, I am 18 and my best friend, her brother, and a friend of their families whose is also my friend, my best friend and her other friends moms were all on that trip. We went to Harry Potter World at Universal Studios in LA in early July 2018. Exciting as it was nothing bad happened until we were on our way back. We came back the night of the 2nd day, since it was a 2-day trip, and since we drove there we drove back.

A quick extra fact that is important to add is my parents are shamans, you heard me right shamans, they are not native but they use some of the native’s shamanistic elements. So, growing up with them has made me more open to the supernatural. I’ve also lived in the Nevada desert all my life so I know the wildlife pretty well.

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Bones From A Fire

I live in a town in Scotland. It’s mostly urban but we do have a good amount of rural areas. This story happened when I was in primary school and I was 9 years old. I lived in a house very close to the rural areas of the town. The rural areas had loads of abadoned places as part of them and my friends and I would go to hang out at them.

It was summer break. Me and two of my friends (One which I will call T in this story and the other E to keep their names private) decided we would go and explore the old abadoned graveyard that loads of people would hang out at.

After getting food and drink from a shop we went down the long narrow road that led to the old grave. We past the farms and joked about the smell of cow manure coming from E and were making other dumb 9 year old jokes until we reached the graveyard.

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Haunts of Forest Ave.

Now, my home is the oldest on my block, and the closest to the forest around our little dead end, and I usually have to stay home alone for long periods of time. I should tell you some lore of my home, being you’d probably understand why there would be spirits on my land. Around 13 or 14 years ago, before my family moved in, a young girl, not even in her teens, was kidnapped and taken to the woods. Sadly, she was raped and murdered, and I’m not sure if these happenings are from her, or other spirits and paranormal entities within the area. Now that you know the lore, let me tell you what happened over the summer of my 9th grade year.

The first few days of summer were normal, the occasional bump and door moving. One night, my best friend was over, let’s call her Toxic, (For identity reasons, ya know?) She was in the living room and I was walking out of my room, when suddenly, the door to the bedroom across from mine lowly opened. My parents were asleep upstairs and my brother at his friend’s house, so it was just me and her sleeping downstairs, and no one should be able to open that door. I raised an eyebrow and went to close the door, when I heard whispering inside. I backed off and went to sit with Toxic, believing I should just leave it alone.

The night went on peacefully, the door closing on it’s own and the knocks starting again, we watched a movie, one of our favorites, ReZort. Around 3:00, I felt something pressing against my chest, as if someone was sitting on me. I opened my eyes and saw nothing. Being the person I am, I commanded whatever was on my chest to get off.

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The Friendly Campers

So, this happened about a year ago, and I only witnessed about a portion of what occurred. The rest is from accounts by my friends. The asinine and illegal things we did in this story, I will not take accountability for. God, I love anonymity. Anyway, we’re a bunch of college students that have always had an affinity for road-trips. I like to think it’s a mode of escapism. As college goes, our bank accounts stopped accommodating trips around the east coast, so we took up camping instead. My best friend owns this land a few hours east of Scranton, Pennsylvania. We all elected to take this big camping trip by the end of the summer, and spent it preparing. We divided ourselves into two cars, split tents, food, drinks, ect among us. As we neared the spot, our GPS went out, so we relied on physical maps we brought with us. After an hour, we arrived at the site just about at dusk. We all unloaded our stuff, set up our tents, and built a nice bonfire: we delegated bonfire duty to one person and by God, he kept it lit the whole stay. The first night was fun. I got over the creepy ambiance of being in the middle of nowhere after 5 or 6 beers. We exchanged stories, pranked each other, and went to sleep. The second day, a group of my friends decided they were going to make the two hour drive to some hick town in order to get more firewood and snacks. I was in the group that stayed behind. According to them, they got lost in the morning fog, and ended up at the local store sometime after sunrise. After purchasing their stuff, they encountered a raggedy old man in the parking lot. Archetypal hillbilly: as hick as you can get on the eastern seaboard. He asks for a cigarette, they oblige, and then begins to berate them with questions. Stuff like, “What’s your name,” “Where are you from,” “What’re you doing here?” To the latter question, he is very interested. He asks where we’re camping and if he can stop by. They laugh it off, but he continues pushing. He says he’ll “hang out” with us, and doesn’t drop the subject, even as they’re reentering the car. By this point, they’re all too high to notice the guy hopping into his beaten-up, white pickup. In fact, they don’t think they’re being followed until they leave the paved roads and see him follow them onto the dirt trails leading back to the campsite. I attribute this to the drugs they were on, but they kept going back to the campsite. They said that they had no room to turn around and nowhere to go, but hey. Leading this guy back wasn’t good. Anyway, this whole time, I’m sitting at the fire, smoking, and have no idea what’s going on because of the absence of cell service. So, I see them rush back, hours late, and I say, “Where are the snacks, man? C’mon, where’s my breakfast?” They make a jumbled recounting of this guy that followed them miles back. At first, I think it’s another prank, but the fear plastered on their faces is palpable. They say he parked the car about forty feet behind theirs and watched them get out. I get the rest of us together, and we all decide to confront this guy. So, it turns out, he was coming first. We’re walking the twenty minute walk to the cars, and we see this dirty, old man in the clearing: holding a hunting rifle. We weren’t going to try and make a break for it or see what the guy wanted, so we decided to loop back around to the camp, and then try and make a wide arc to avoid him. So, we get back to the camp in half the time it took us to walk to the clearing and begin frantically packing our essentials in a high stupor. As we’re about to turn around and go, my friend points at that the bonfire is giving off a lot of smoke on account of all the leaves we used for kindling. So, it’s assumed that the guy can figure out exactly where we are. We stop our packing process immediately, and dip into the trees, running with reckless abandon to cover as much ground as possible. As we’re reaching the car, we hear gunshots in the direction of the camp. We get into our cars and floor it out of there. We reach a police station in the same town after making the same 2 hour drive to that town. We submit our report, even though we were clearly under the influence. They hold us at the station and send a car out to investigate. We’re sitting around, freaking out – more over the consequences of going to the cops high than the maniac, honestly. It’s late in the afternoon before the car returns and tell us what they found. The tents were both torn down and had shell casings and bullet holes in them. Aside from the food wrappers, they said barely anything was left behind. From our own accounting, the guy took our weed, our keg of beer, but also my friend’s wallet. We tell the police the latter, and he says they’ll continue to search around, but they didn’t find any cars around. We end up going home early, and my friend cancels his debit, gets a new ID, and we all haven’t heard anything since. Of course, the knowledge is still haunting that this psychopath knows who he is and, roughly, where he lives. I’m sure nothing will come of it. Nothing has, and it’s been a year. But I have no idea what this guy’s intentions with us were. What if he did catch us out there in the woods? What would he have done? We haven’t been back to that camping site since, but we do plan on returning this summer. It’s June, we’re going back in August: no drugs this time. We’re going to see what came of this, if the case is even still open. Regardless, I’ll update this as soon as we do.

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