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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Moth Man river Encounter

Most people don’t believe me when I tell them this. Heck, I’ve had girlfriends aplenty break up with me because they thought I was lying, but I swear on my beautiful mother’s grave that it’s true. I punched the moth man.

“Now hold up!” you might say, “the moth man is more powerful than any mortal”, and with that, I may agree. But I have trained in martial arts for many years, and if anyone could get a jab in, it would be me. Trust me, you don’t want to make me mad. But enough about me, let me begin the story proper.

It was my beautiful sister’s wedding. She had decided to hold it outdoors by the river where we used to play when we were kids. She’s wiccan, so there were a lot of wards and totems around the wedding site. To this day, I believe that’s why the moth man didn’t accost the wedding party directly. Anyway, it was a great wedding. All my cousins were there and we played beer pong, as is tradition in my family. We then all took our seats, as father walked my sister down the aisle, but when she arrived next to her husband-to-be, she let out the ghastliest scream I’ve ever heard. She pointed to the river, which, to everyone’s surprise, was running red with blood.

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Summer break horror

I live in a city here in philippines one summer break my parents decided to send me to my grandparents house which is in a province.

Their house was not that big and fancy it was like an ordinary house that you can see in provinces.

One day i was enjoying myself swimming in a river, the river was too far from my grandparents so me and my uncle were the only people in that river, hours passed and my uncle wants to go back home k was still enjoying in the river so i told him that i know the way back to the house, my uncle left and i was the only one their alone.

Once i dried my self and change clothes i then proceed to go back home, after few minutes of walking i got dark and i opened my flashlight while walking.

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My parents story

This story was told to me by my parents as a kid. My parents grew up in a small town in the northern most part of Jefferson Co. in Alabama.

Now back in those days around the late 60’s, our town was very small, and there wasn’t much to do for teens. One night my parents drove down below the bridge of the locust fork river where teens would often meet up.

This night as they arrived no one else had gotten there yet.

So they decided to wait and see who’d possibly show up. While waiting dad heard a slight whistleing sound. At first he said he didn’t pay it much attention, but as time went own it got louder and louder.

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Vampire in Serbia

This story is not mine, it is a story told to me by one old lady who is the grandmother of my best friend.

In Serbia during the 1950s in villages there were was no electricity or many things that today we take for granted. So if you want to make a bread you have to go to the old mills on the river and make flour and bring it back home so everyone can eat, usually it was a job for a kids in 15,or 16 year old.

One day two brothers and sister who is a grandmother who is telling this story went to a location where the mill is so they can get bigger among of flour back home for bread.

So the mill is on the little river and has one bell in front of the entrance (this will be important) but if you want to ring it you have to grab small metal bar and hit it, maybe 200 meters there was small cottage where people slipping if they have to.

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Never Again – Duplicate

I live on a large piece of land near the green river, specifically in Kentucky. 243 acres to be exact. But despite being so large, we only have so much to hunt, fish, and ride for wheelers on. There weren’t many roads or fields so we mostly used the place for hunting since the only pond we had was too small for bass so we used it for bluegill and sunfish.

So without any more explanation, let’s get right into the story.

This took place when I was 15-17 years old.

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Never Again

I live on a large piece of land near the green river, specifically in Kentucky. 243 acres to be exact. But despite being so large, we only have so much to hunt, fish, and ride for wheelers on. There weren’t many roads or fields so we mostly used the place for hunting since the only pond we had was too small for bass so we used it for bluegill and sunfish. So without any more explanation, let’s get right into the story.

This took place when I was 15-17 years old. It was deer season, and since I had school we only went on weekends. This was the third so far, and I had only seen a doe. But of course, i shot her. So anyways, I was in a tree stand on the edge of the first field you get to on the logging road, it was almost night and I hadn’t seen anything but a few turkeys pass through to get water out of the small pond I was talking about earlier. I was leaving at this point due to boredom and doubt, that was until I heard a pack of coyotes howling down at the edge of the field. I got excited and grabbed my rifle, aiming in at the group but, there was only one. It was huge and oddly tall, loud as hell and sounded like a whole group. I thought this was weird but I continued to aim, slowly squeezing the trigger. And I will be serious when I say this, I will never feel another “GTFO” feeling like this again, the coyote looked directly at me, and I soon realized it was standing on its back legs. I almost screamed as I noticed it had ribs that hung out of its sides, and it’s eyes glew a bright yellow. And in a panic I fired at the creature, it let out a heart dripping scream as it began to charge towards me. Now, this field is about 260 feet long so I continued to fire. I stopped when I saw the creature drop. I let out a sigh of relief as I began to walk over to the body, but about half way there it stood up and ran off in another direction. I stared in amazement but soon snapped out of my trance and reloaded, I fired more but missed every shot do to its speed. Finally I felt safe as I saw headlights coming off the road. It was my dad, he said he heard my shots and thought I had gotten attacked by something so he came as soon as possible. I explained everything to him back at the cabin but of course, he never believed me. I finished the conversation off by saying these exact words, “bullets are expensive, why would I waste over 20 shells for a joke?” He told me some people are stupid, and went to bed. And that was all I ever saw of whatever that thing was. I did some research and I’ve come to the conclusion of it being a skinwalker. Whatever it is, next time I see it I’ll put even more shells into it’s ass.

It Still Sticks With Me After A Decade

Let me say this up front: My story does deal with elements of an abuse. I would understand if it may be too intense for some. Hell, after 10 years it still feels like yesterday.

I was 27 years old at the time of this and spent 3 weeks a month as a volunteer fire fighter / EMT. I come from a family that has been part of the military and medical services in one way shape or form. My dad was an army medic and my mom still is working with people in the mental health field to this day. I’ve always had two distinctive personality traits – a good heart and complete and utter lack of a life plan. So while I got stuff figured out around the age of 23, I took this on as a way of giving back.

I’d seen more than any person should in my 4 years of doing this. Car accidents. The aftermath of bar fights. Shootings. People who’d passed due to tragic circumstances and my takeaway was the fragility of this truly precious thing we call “life.” There was more bad than good – I personally helped deliver a baby because the mom went into labor too far from the hospital and she wasn’t going to make it. So within the time frame of 20 minutes or so, an 8 pound baby girl was born right in the back of my ambulance. Her name is Shelly and I still see her around town from time to time. I’ve become good friends with her parents and she’s a happy kid.

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He Watched me from the Dark

I was 18 years old camping with a couple of my buddies. It was snowy, and biting cold winds battered our flimsy tents. We all sat outside on log benches surrounding a campfire. The fire snapped and popped as the sun dipped below the black trees. When the light was gone, we all fell silent, and stared at the fire.

For about 30 minutes we just sat in silence, until the friend next to me sat up and declared that he was off to bed. After that we decided that there would be no more talk or stories that night and slowly receded into our tents.

We were all awakened by a loud and piercing shriek. I stepped outside the tent to investigate, and was shortly joined by the others. The younger friends began discussing what it was that made the sound and were quickly hushed by the others.

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Skinwalker in the Pines

(Hey everyone, Spades here – It was really awesome to see one of my stories end up in a video, and I’m hoping to maybe even do that again if I can write that well! Thank you for all the support. )

(This story was told to me by JakobLmao on Reddit, and will be told from his point of view from here forth.)

I’ve had a draft of this story set up for a while before I gained the courage to share it. It made me question… everything. My faith, my eyes, my friends, and worst of all, my sanity. I’ve decided it’s time to let someone else know about this, maybe that will help me move on… at least, that’s what I hope. For my sake, and maybe even yours.

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