Haunted Collage in iceland (Part 1)

Hi, so I have a few stories from my collage years living in a dorm. I am Icelandic so I’m
sorry for my English.

I went to this collage in the north of Iceland. Founded in the year 1925 it has a long
history and has most of it’s time been a boarding school of some sort. It has six
buildings, dorms in five of them but only 3-4 of them are used every year.

The first story I have for you from this school is the one that freaks me out the most because I still don’t know the truth about it.

There is a dorm building, called Elfstone, built sometime around or before 1929 that
always had a eerie feeling surrounding it. My first year there, it was closed for students
except for one classroom. Me and my roommate heard of the creepy dorm upstairs in
that building and wanted to check it out. We were on our way somewhere when we saw
the building was open so we grabbed the chance and went inside. We did not take the
course taught in this house so we had never seen inside of it. We quickly found the
staircase leading to the second floor, the ,,creepy” dorm. Walking up the stairs I felt
cold, like there was no heating in the house. The door to the dorm was closed so I
reached out to check if it was locked. It wasn’t.

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They watched at night

I always love going to creepy or spooky places as both part of getting a thrill and testing my mettle. A foolish dare in the state of New York made me regret it.
I was taking a vacation with a few friends and wanted to try something new. After finding out how the gravity hills and crybaby bridges worked, we were disappointed by the natural explanations. I wanted to go to Fort Mifflin and try to catch the Screaming Lady on audio. One of my friends was real set on going to New York and trying to stay all night in an abandoned house. His idea wasn’t smart or legal, but i figured it was better than nothing. When I asked him why bother, he told me that there was a story about a house that was guarded by sentinels. My 3 friends and I listened to him carefully as he spun a yarn about creepy black beings that guarded the house at night. My new friend, who had moved here from Slovakia, told us that there was no reason to mess with sentinels, but my friend’s mind was made up. I wished he had reconsidered when he had the chance.

The next day, I went to the house he had wanted to stay at and looked inside. We saw that the floor was solid, the roof was sturdy, there wasn’t much trash, and it had been untouched by vandalism. I told him the sentinels must’ve spruced it up. I meant it as a joke, but his glare told me to be serious. I went with it and told him that there was probably something about it that made people stay away. He said “It must be ghosts.” I thought it was probably police officers. Despite being psyched, my friend was a bit nervous, so my Slovakian friend, Marcola (Mar-co-la) and I decided to spend the night with him. In all honesty, I was probably more shaken up than he was. At 2 AM, Marcola woke me up and told me to look outside. I peeked outside and saw 4 figures standing silently in the backyard. They had my backs to me, so I don’t know if they were male or female. Marcola dragged me into the bathroom and played what he claimed was audio of the sentinels. It sounded like a combination of someone gargling and a woman screaming at the top of her lungs. When he told me he had a rendition that his mother had drawn of them, I told him that I sure as hell had NO desire to add a face to that sound if it was indeed a sentinel. He looked outside again and froze, then turned to me with his mouth in an “O” of shock. I could tell he was spooked and I looked outside and I can’t believe what I saw.
Before I go on, let me say that it was dark, but there was a full moon and not a lot of trees, so I know what I saw.

There were 2 men and 2 women. That wasn’t weird. The weird thing was that, I could tell from the figures that the men were naked from the waist down, while the women were naked from the waist up. I looked at Marcola, who was just standing there, silent. I slapped him out of his stupor and told him what I saw. He confirmed that he had seen the same thing. I was about to tell him to leave now, when we heard a light tapping on the window in the den, which was right next to the bathroom. I was terrified, and Marcola was whimpering. I was afraid of what would happen if we didn’t leave the bathroom and afraid of what we would SEE if we did! We hid in the tub and continued to hear tapping for almost an hour. Finally, at 3:16, it ended. There was a BANG! sound on the front door, then silence. Marcola and I cautiously peeked out the window and saw nothing. We told my other 2 friends and they called us psycho. The other 2 spent individual nights in the house, alone. Bill came back the next day with a stain on his jeans. We all knew what it was, but refrained from teasing him. Jessica went there, then came back and clung to Marcola. I knew that I had seen something, Marcola had seen something, Bill had experienced something, and Jessica had experienced something. Somehow, my 4th friend, Jeff, had slept through whatever Marcola and I had been involved in.

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My daughter can see things

My daughter, Grace, is 5 years old. She’s incredibly smart to the point she’s reading, writing and communicating well above her age. She has always been like this. She was my first child and I was no longer with her father by the time she turned 1. We had been on an off since I found out I was expecting, we had broken up at 7 months pregnant and got back together when she was 5 months old. Grace and I lived with her Grandpa, my father, in my Nan’s old house. She had passed away a few years previous, and we always joked that she was still wandering around house, it was almost like a daily routine that at 9am and 4 pm every day there were noises from upstairs of her bedroom door opening and footsteps to and from the bathroom, ending with the eventual closure of her bedroom (now my fathers bedroom) door. My bedroom is opposite his and I could never have the door open in the evening or at night. There was always a growing sense of someone, or something on the landing, watching all the time. But I’ll dedicate another post to that at another time.

I never really thought about it much until I was showing Grace the photos on the fireplace when she was about 7 months old. I showed her a picture of my family and was teaching her people’s names. I showed her a photo of my Father when he graduated the Police Academy, he was standing next to my Nan so I said her name and tried to get Grace to point to where she was in the photo, like she had with the multiple other photos. She looked at me and pointed behind me, to the cupboard under the stairs and said, clear as day, “Nanny.” Seems a bit unimportant, until I tell you that that cupboard is completely empty. Except for my Nan’s Urn. I froze. The temperature dropped and I couldn’t bring myself to turn round and look. I heard what sounded like the door handle squeak and the door creak as it someone were trying to open it. It stopped after about 10 seconds and I immediately heard the footsteps upstairs. We were home alone, my Father works 12 hour shifts in London and his house was in a village about 45 minute train journey away. He wouldn’t have been home for hours. After a few minutes things seemed to go back to normal, I locked us in my bedroom all the same. I never joked lightly about my Nan’s ‘daily routine’ again. I moved out a few weeks later, and my dad sold the house not long after. We don’t spend enough time at his new house to experience anything. I don’t know who she saw, but I know it wasn’t the last time she would see someone who wasn’t physically there.

A Night At Central High School

A coworker told me this unforgettable story about his time in high school. I’m now writing from his perspective. All names have been changed.

Central High School in Springfield, Missouri is haunted. I know what you’re thinking, every kid says their school is haunted. But my story is different. I saw it. Central was actually the first high school in Springfield, and the original brick building with its tower still stands, but has now expanded with many new wings.

We’d all heard the stories about the steam tunnels that connected the buildings and the supposed hangings, but far more compelling was the story of the deadly principal who would whip troublesome students to death. That would’ve happened long ago when Springfield was a small town and not the queen city of the Ozarks. We had heard the rumors, the stories that were likely exaggerated, but being high schoolers, we knew we had to do one thing: be at the school late at night.

I was the one who came up with the idea that we needed to join the drama class. They were preparing a performance of South Pacific, and as I explained to my group of friends, the way to get in would be to join the class as stagehands, stay to clean after the performance, and then just stay. And that was what we did. Well, only a couple of us actually got on the crew, but after everyone else had left, letting them in was simple.

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the dream and the storm

For an entire year I was plagued with a reoccurring dream that came monthly. In this dream Tyndall Air Force Base and Mexico Beach were destroyed by a massive storm. These two locations are next to my town and are connected by a highway surrounded by pine forest. The part of the dream with Tyndall always had buildings wash away and disappear with the rain. I remember in the dream, the shore line would no longer look the same after the storm passed. It looked and felt so real. The part of the dream that got me was not Tyndall, but Mexico beach.

In the dream I drove from the destroyed military base down that familiar highway to Mexico beach. The houses were gone and the sun was setting. Only a silhouette of the forest remained. Then suddenly a faint glow would illuminate a makeshift town of sorts inhabited by ghosts. It was if these ghosts assembled a new little village out of wrecked houses and board walks. I remember entering this “village” and interacting with the people. They either didn’t know they had died or simply ceased to care. They were faded, washed out and slightly transparent. The thing that stood out the most were the oil lamps hanging over their doors. Their soft glow was not warm like a normal lantern should be. It was as it were the memory of a flame. The people acknowledged and interacted with me. At one point they bought me a small bag of sweets because I had no money on me. Their gift to me touched my heart. At the end of the dream when I left the village, I turned around only to see a silent, dark forest once more under an evening sky. No village, no people, no glowing lanterns. There was an emptiness and a sorrow in my heart.
These dreams weighed heavy on me because I kept having them often. And so begins the weird events that I feel are connected to my dreams.

Let’s begin with a fishing trip I took a few months back. Mexico beach was a place my husband and I would go to fish pretty regularly. One night while there, we were alone under a sky full of stars. Behind us was the forest and in front of us was the beach. No one lived on that side because it is owned by the base. There are no houses on that side of Mexico beach for miles. I remember that my husband went to grab his cellphone and that he had left it in the car. I told him to go get it and that I would stay put so he could find me. While I was alone and waiting for him, I would see white figures out of the corners of my eyes. I looked further on down the beach and saw the soft glow of an oil lamp moving as if someone were carrying it. The light grew dim and then was gone. My husband returned to me very shaken up and told me that on his way back to me, he though he had spotted me. When he walked up to this person that he thought was me, he realized that they were wearing a white gown and that it was not me. The person vanished into thin air. We left soon after.

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My Dog Came Home Two Months After Being Put Down

As you have figured this post is related to my families pet dog, that passed away a few months ago. I personally have not experience these incidents and can only relay the information based on the body language and tone my family had while telling me.

It all started mid February when we put our 14 year old golden retriever down after he started to have nose bleeds and sever seizures. we rushed to the vets to put him down after one lasted over an hour and we knew he wouldn’t make it until morning it was around 10pm then.
It is now the end of March and early April where these encounters with our dead dog have happened.

the 1st encounter happened with my dad who was in the kitchen when he heard a bang in the living room. When he came out of the kitchen literally having to just turn the corner he saw our dog lying on the floor like he always did. he never said anything else about it, my dads never been a believer of the paranormal but this really does have him shaken up

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Night Shift Scare

Before I begin this might be kind of long, But I want to give you all a little background information about where I work. I work at a local coffee shop that’s located in an old Missionary town that is a little older than 200 years old. The shop itself is only 20 years old, but is built over a Native American burial ground.

Everyone who has ever been hired at my work knows about the several ghosts that are said to be “living” at the coffee shop. Now some of them don’t quite believe in the paranormal, but I have had enough encounters with something during the late shift far too often not to believe. Sometimes I will be restocking beans in the back and will hear a very clear male voice saying something along the lines of “hey there” or “hello miss” right in my ear, or an ocasional sound of something moving in the back when no one is around. It is never anything particularly malicious or anything, but still very off putting to say the least. But this one occasion that I will be going into detail on is different.

It was a normal closing shift like any other, My coworker, let’s call her Sofia and I swept and mopped the floors, did all the dishes and tidied up the shop. We were both exhausted as we don’t really ever get to sit down, or rest because we are always doing something at this job; so we tried to finish up quickly and get home. We went around one last time making sure everything was in place for the morning shift and I turned the music off.

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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.

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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.

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