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Link Posted: 9/23/2011 3:06:51 AM EDT
[Last Edit: Sslous] [#1]
I do not know if this is creepy or not. Yesterday morning my dad told me he had a dream I shot a buck, that night I dropped one. My dad has been dead for 7 years.








Ok I made the last part up but still.
Link Posted: 9/23/2011 4:05:14 AM EDT
[#2]
Lol, as of posting this, I'm only on page 2. But, I just had to take a leak, so I turned on every light on the way to the bathroom, naturally. When I got back to my bedroom, I hurried up and shut the door, but just as I was doing so, I got one last glimpse out. A framed photo of my grandmother (deceased) hangs there and it is the last thing I saw on the other side of the door before it shut completely. I'm fucked, there's no way I will be able to sleep tonight.
Link Posted: 9/23/2011 6:37:19 AM EDT
[#3]
Yeah, since reading this thread, I've been having to make sure more lights are on at night(I live alone), and trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night are a bit spookier.  The thing is, I don't believe in ghosts, but the primitive part of my brain that causes fear doesn't seem to care.
Link Posted: 9/23/2011 7:47:55 AM EDT
[Last Edit: Armourer-In-Training] [#4]
Originally Posted By Anaxes:
Some of the woods near here are reputedly haunted. This place. I've been in a lot of woodland in the U.K, including most of the famous examples, but Grovely is particularly beautiful. I got lost in there during a storm once, and it wasn't a pleasant experience; I saw nothing, but it does have something of a presence.

Lot's of the historic tourist sites in the U.K are haunted, and many other building or areas. That's usually the lot, aside from the odd UFO. I have heard some fairly nasty stories about things haunting Robin Hoods supposed burial site, and weird creatures flying around villages, but don't know anyone that's seen any of it personally.

UFOs, I know a fair few ex-military guys that have seen them, and some barracks/camps are haunted, too. Big piss taking culture about it here, and most don't believe what they saw. There was a fair bit of creepy UFO stuff around here during the 70's, but that was put down to military testing.


Grovely Woods aren't all that far from the house I used to live in when growing up.

I've got one true story from my parents house.

We moved there about 6 years ago, it was built in the 1930's and had just the 1 family living there until we moved in.
The old man who lived there alone (children had long moved out) was a retired eye surgeon or the likes.

When we moved in there was no central heating, very old wiring, lead pipes , and the water would run red (from rust/corrosion somewhere ). So we had the whole house renovated.

The upstairs attic is a huge room, basically a 3rd story on the house, the staircase was just outside my bedroom door.
At the top of the stairs there was a single light bulb with a pull cord, it only really lit up the small office-like room with the ham radio and small dirty window.

In the small room there was a large bed type thing which was basically a wooden slab, at one end there were dark brown/red stains



Anyway shortly after moving in we set about clearing out the attic, so it was now just a dark space with a single lightbulb.

One night in October (about a month after we moved in) we were all sitting at the table eating dinner, when all of a sudden the lights go out and we all hear footsteps up in the attic (gave me goosebumps thinking about it ), then we all heard what sounded like a low murmuring voice. The lights came back on after around 30 seconds and no more noises from upstairs. Creeped me the hell out!

In the 4 years I lived there I didn't hear any more strange noises or see anything strange.

The attic is now a really nice room, well lit with lots of windows and a bed for guests.
However there's still those creepy crawl spaces. And some guests have said that they've had trouble sleeping up there, hearing noises from the crawl spaces late at night...



On another note I'm staying there this week to look after the animals while they go away on holiday
Link Posted: 9/23/2011 8:01:22 AM EDT
[#5]
Originally Posted By EasTexan:
Originally Posted By Willmar:
Originally Posted By EasTexan:
I'm sitting outside, playing guitar and I'm hearing Garth Brooks playing in the woods. I'm guessing it's some rednecks working on their truck like every night. Lol. Anyways it reminded me of my creepiest encounter I ever had out in the wilderness.




I was bow fishing one night with some buddies out on Dam-b. Its a very eerie part of the state. Cypress trees covered in Spanish moss coupled with long leaf pines and mixed hardwoods. The shallow waters are great for hunting big gar. Anyways, we were about thirty miles from the nearest town and had traveled up the river by boat another 30 to get to the good spots. I tell ya, you go back in these woods and you step back in time. Untouched by man and so damn unforgiving, its no surprise. It was about 11:30 P.M. when we entered the slough. There was no sound except for the humming of the trolling motor. He had decided not to use the generator and the halogen lights but instead use some rigged handheld 500,000 spot lights so we could hunt coons as well. That's when we heard it.

I was just putting a dip in when I heard the soft sound of music. Instantly, fear and confusion set in as I looked around. My buddies heard it as well and we could only listen, looking at each other for some sort of answer. No one could be out there, it was impossible. There were no roads, no way to climb the huge, clay cliffs made by the river. It was coming from the absolute wilderness. The tune was the most terrifying part. It was not a song anyone alive today would know. It sounded like it came from an old record player. It was scratchy and muffled with a woman's voice singing and it filled me with more adrenaline and fear than I have ever had in my whole life. I can only relate it to something from the turn of the century. By this time, Jake had stopped the trolling motor and we simply sat down and continued to listen. Its like we were in a trance. We know that back country and we know that this was not right. People never would have trecked through those marshes and woods to play a joke.

Then the music simply faded away. We sat there in the dark, waiting for something to move, something to give its position away so we could put the lights on it. Whoever or whatever it was would have surely made noise in the swamp water.

Nothing. Not a sound for thirty minutes. We felt after an experience like that, it was time to go.


Dammit, EasTexan, you've posted that before. And it was freaky then too!


Yeah, it's by far the creepiest. I don't think it will ever be topped... Unless I ever see Michelle Obama naked.


AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!
Link Posted: 9/23/2011 12:06:47 PM EDT
[#6]
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Garryowen:
There were mass graves dug in Central Park during the Spanish Flu outbreak during WW1


Really?  I never knew this.  Off to look for Central Park ghost stories.

ETA:This is one of the better stories from the previous creepy thread.

Excellent thread.

After reading this ENTIRE thread (only took me 2 days :D) I have decided to post mine. I rarely share this story, however, it's true when you hear people say "I don't care what they think of me, I saw what I saw"

Anyways..


Back in the winter of 2001 my youngest son and I were on our way from Boise,Idaho to Medford, Oregon. We had taken a car trailer to his old place in Boise in order to haul his non-running Jeep to his new place in Medford. We hit an area of heavy snow in the southern Cascades around 2:00 a.m. It took 45 minutes or so to get down the mountain. We had, of course been drinking coffee to stay alert.

About 25 miles west of the pass it became obvious that the last few quarts of coffee had to be drained. We stopped at a wide spot in the road near a summer tourist haunt,deserted in winter. There is a gas station and ice cream joint on the west side of the road,closed this time of year,and no town or settlement within 30 miles. This is tall timber country, and unsettled.Across the road is a small parking area for the ice cream joint. It is paved and about 200 ft.wide and 80 ft.deep. I pulled in and as I stepped out with .45 on hip, it occurred to me in a flash that grabbing the 590 Mossy would be good.

As we walked to the far end of the area to be well off the road, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. The area directly to our front was open with a depth of 50 yards and a width of 100 yards. The night was clear and cold, 8-10 inches of snow on the ground, and with a moon almost full, so we could see quite well. While standing and taking a leak, with son about 15 ft.to my right I saw, as if springing from the earth in front of us across the open area 10 or 12 creatures moving RAPIDLY back and forth in sort of a Thatch weave pattern. These things, not human men, were close to 7 ft.tall, thin, bipedal with long arms, medium length gray fur, and damned fast on their feet. I brought the shotgun up and slid the safety off, as son was drawing his .45.

I don't know if I can adequately explain the overwhelming feeling of menace,but here goes. I had been operating on pure instinct since I had stepped from the pickup,the rotten feeling hit me a split second before the things arrived, the feeling?, instinct?, was that we were prey, and subject to a very bad death, and to be slaughtered and eaten, not a logical process, gut feeling and massively overwhelming.

As they were moving about in front of us,more appeared and mixed among them,all the while running about fast in front of us. Son and I were backing toward the truck, I WOULD NOT present my back to them, and some of them peeled off right and left in an encirclement movement. They were rolling in fast from the sides now, I could smell and feel their presence. We got to the truck loaded on adrenaline and ready to kill, as we both knew we were in grave danger. We piled into the truck,locked doors. I had keys out and ready, as my butt neared the seat, I had the engine lit and trans. in gear and gas pedal mashed in one motion. Adrenaline is great stuff! As we fled, yes fled, something VERY close by let out a ululating scream of rage, and pain. I believe one or more of the group had gotten really close to us in their pursuit and I ran over the foot of one of them, yeah they were that close. We rolled onto the highway and I told son to watch the bed of the pickup as well as the trailer, he already was indexed to the rear with the shotgun. We hauled ass for at least 20 miles before the feeling of grave danger started to abate. The feeling that nailed both of us, as we discussed soon afterward, was one of being prey, and soon to be slaughtered and eaten. I am not easily led, and neither believe or disbelieve all the bigfoot, ghost and werewolf stuff, in fact I am skeptical. Son was speaking with a coworker about 6 months later who had grown up in Prospect, Oregon, about 30 miles south of Union Creek where the incident took place. He asked Jake if he had ever heard of any strange goings-on in the area. Jake went ashy white and pretty much retold the above tale. He says to avoid the place at night. A family friend, a 25 yr. retired cop not given to flights of fancy and an excellent observer, had a tale very similar from a year before. I told my wife of this event of course, she looked at me at the beginning as though I had developed a 3rd eyeball in the center of my forehead. That was from shock, she did believe me, but did not wish to hear any details. She said the tale gave her chills. Me too, as I write this, hair on back of neck and forearms is sticking up.

I have NOT gone back to explore, and would not without a large group of shotgun and flamethrower equipped men with me.

Son and I are both sane, sober persons, and not taken to hysteria. We were wide, VERY wide awake as things transpired. We saw and smelled what was there. As a sidebar neither of us heard footfalls from the creatures. They were silent until i hurt one as we were getting the Hell out of there.

To my knowledge, and I have researched, there is nothing that matches these creatures, unless one considers old legends and folk tales of were creatures. To conclude, I have to fall back on Elmer Keith's famous line, "Hell,I was there."

Best regards, Ryan B.


That is some seriously scary stuff! I love to hunt and camp and fish but that story has me wanting eyes in the back of my head.
Link Posted: 9/24/2011 2:00:15 AM EDT
[#7]
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Garryowen:
There were mass graves dug in Central Park during the Spanish Flu outbreak during WW1


Really?  I never knew this.  Off to look for Central Park ghost stories.

ETA:This is one of the better stories from the previous creepy thread.

Excellent thread.

After reading this ENTIRE thread (only took me 2 days :D) I have decided to post mine. I rarely share this story, however, it's true when you hear people say "I don't care what they think of me, I saw what I saw"

Anyways..


Back in the winter of 2001 my youngest son and I were on our way from Boise,Idaho to Medford, Oregon. We had taken a car trailer to his old place in Boise in order to haul his non-running Jeep to his new place in Medford. We hit an area of heavy snow in the southern Cascades around 2:00 a.m. It took 45 minutes or so to get down the mountain. We had, of course been drinking coffee to stay alert.

About 25 miles west of the pass it became obvious that the last few quarts of coffee had to be drained. We stopped at a wide spot in the road near a summer tourist haunt,deserted in winter. There is a gas station and ice cream joint on the west side of the road,closed this time of year,and no town or settlement within 30 miles. This is tall timber country, and unsettled.Across the road is a small parking area for the ice cream joint. It is paved and about 200 ft.wide and 80 ft.deep. I pulled in and as I stepped out with .45 on hip, it occurred to me in a flash that grabbing the 590 Mossy would be good.

As we walked to the far end of the area to be well off the road, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. The area directly to our front was open with a depth of 50 yards and a width of 100 yards. The night was clear and cold, 8-10 inches of snow on the ground, and with a moon almost full, so we could see quite well. While standing and taking a leak, with son about 15 ft.to my right I saw, as if springing from the earth in front of us across the open area 10 or 12 creatures moving RAPIDLY back and forth in sort of a Thatch weave pattern. These things, not human men, were close to 7 ft.tall, thin, bipedal with long arms, medium length gray fur, and damned fast on their feet. I brought the shotgun up and slid the safety off, as son was drawing his .45.

I don't know if I can adequately explain the overwhelming feeling of menace,but here goes. I had been operating on pure instinct since I had stepped from the pickup,the rotten feeling hit me a split second before the things arrived, the feeling?, instinct?, was that we were prey, and subject to a very bad death, and to be slaughtered and eaten, not a logical process, gut feeling and massively overwhelming.

As they were moving about in front of us,more appeared and mixed among them,all the while running about fast in front of us. Son and I were backing toward the truck, I WOULD NOT present my back to them, and some of them peeled off right and left in an encirclement movement. They were rolling in fast from the sides now, I could smell and feel their presence. We got to the truck loaded on adrenaline and ready to kill, as we both knew we were in grave danger. We piled into the truck,locked doors. I had keys out and ready, as my butt neared the seat, I had the engine lit and trans. in gear and gas pedal mashed in one motion. Adrenaline is great stuff! As we fled, yes fled, something VERY close by let out a ululating scream of rage, and pain. I believe one or more of the group had gotten really close to us in their pursuit and I ran over the foot of one of them, yeah they were that close. We rolled onto the highway and I told son to watch the bed of the pickup as well as the trailer, he already was indexed to the rear with the shotgun. We hauled ass for at least 20 miles before the feeling of grave danger started to abate. The feeling that nailed both of us, as we discussed soon afterward, was one of being prey, and soon to be slaughtered and eaten. I am not easily led, and neither believe or disbelieve all the bigfoot, ghost and werewolf stuff, in fact I am skeptical. Son was speaking with a coworker about 6 months later who had grown up in Prospect, Oregon, about 30 miles south of Union Creek where the incident took place. He asked Jake if he had ever heard of any strange goings-on in the area. Jake went ashy white and pretty much retold the above tale. He says to avoid the place at night. A family friend, a 25 yr. retired cop not given to flights of fancy and an excellent observer, had a tale very similar from a year before. I told my wife of this event of course, she looked at me at the beginning as though I had developed a 3rd eyeball in the center of my forehead. That was from shock, she did believe me, but did not wish to hear any details. She said the tale gave her chills. Me too, as I write this, hair on back of neck and forearms is sticking up.

I have NOT gone back to explore, and would not without a large group of shotgun and flamethrower equipped men with me.

Son and I are both sane, sober persons, and not taken to hysteria. We were wide, VERY wide awake as things transpired. We saw and smelled what was there. As a sidebar neither of us heard footfalls from the creatures. They were silent until i hurt one as we were getting the Hell out of there.

To my knowledge, and I have researched, there is nothing that matches these creatures, unless one considers old legends and folk tales of were creatures. To conclude, I have to fall back on Elmer Keith's famous line, "Hell,I was there."

Best regards, Ryan B.


I have heard stories of something similar.

http://www.mythicalcreaturesguide.com/page/Wendigo
Link Posted: 9/24/2011 4:05:40 AM EDT
[#8]
Originally Posted By Armourer-In-Training:
Originally Posted By Anaxes:
Some of the woods near here are reputedly haunted. This place. I've been in a lot of woodland in the U.K, including most of the famous examples, but Grovely is particularly beautiful. I got lost in there during a storm once, and it wasn't a pleasant experience; I saw nothing, but it does have something of a presence.

Lot's of the historic tourist sites in the U.K are haunted, and many other building or areas. That's usually the lot, aside from the odd UFO. I have heard some fairly nasty stories about things haunting Robin Hoods supposed burial site, and weird creatures flying around villages, but don't know anyone that's seen any of it personally.

UFOs, I know a fair few ex-military guys that have seen them, and some barracks/camps are haunted, too. Big piss taking culture about it here, and most don't believe what they saw. There was a fair bit of creepy UFO stuff around here during the 70's, but that was put down to military testing.


Grovely Woods aren't all that far from the house I used to live in when growing up.

I've got one true story from my parents house.

We moved there about 6 years ago, it was built in the 1930's and had just the 1 family living there until we moved in.
The old man who lived there alone (children had long moved out) was a retired eye surgeon or the likes.

When we moved in there was no central heating, very old wiring, lead pipes , and the water would run red (from rust/corrosion somewhere ). So we had the whole house renovated.

The upstairs attic is a huge room, basically a 3rd story on the house, the staircase was just outside my bedroom door.
At the top of the stairs there was a single light bulb with a pull cord, it only really lit up the small office-like room with the ham radio and small dirty window.

In the small room there was a large bed type thing which was basically a wooden slab, at one end there were dark brown/red stains

http://i1181.photobucket.com/albums/x422/Armourer-in-training/attic.jpg

Anyway shortly after moving in we set about clearing out the attic, so it was now just a dark space with a single lightbulb.

One night in October (about a month after we moved in) we were all sitting at the table eating dinner, when all of a sudden the lights go out and we all hear footsteps up in the attic (gave me goosebumps thinking about it ), then we all heard what sounded like a low murmuring voice. The lights came back on after around 30 seconds and no more noises from upstairs. Creeped me the hell out!

In the 4 years I lived there I didn't hear any more strange noises or see anything strange.

The attic is now a really nice room, well lit with lots of windows and a bed for guests.
However there's still those creepy crawl spaces. And some guests have said that they've had trouble sleeping up there, hearing noises from the crawl spaces late at night...



On another note I'm staying there this week to look after the animals while they go away on holiday




So, did you convert the bloody bed slab into the guest bed?
Link Posted: 9/24/2011 1:54:36 PM EDT
[#9]
Gould, George M., and Walter L. Pyle
.
Anomalies and Curiosities of Medicine
published 1896






page 188 and 189













The following
well-known story of Edward Mordake, though taken from lay sources, is of
sufficient notoriety and interest to be mentioned here:––
"One
of the weirdest as well as most melancholy stories of human deformity is
that of Edward Mordake, said to have been heir to one of the noblest
peerages in England. He never claimed the title, however, and committed
suicide in his twenty-third year. He lived in complete seclusion
refusing the visits even of the members of his own family. He was a
young man of fine attainments, a profound scholar, and a musician of
rare ability. His figure was remarkable for its grace, and his
face––that is to say, his natural face––was that of an Antinous. But
upon the back of his head was another face, that of a beautiful girl,
'lovely as a dream, hideous as a devil.' The female face was a mere
mask, 'occupying only a small portion of the posterior part of the
skull, yet exhibiting every sign of intelligence, of a malignant sort,
however.' It would be seen to smile and sneer while Mordake was weeping.
The eyes would follow the movements of the spectator, and the lips
would 'gibber without ceasing.' No voice was audible, but Mordake avers
that he was kept from his rest at night by the hateful whispers of his
'devil twin,' as he called it, 'which never sleeps, but talks to me
forever of such things as they only speak of in hell. No imagination can
conceive the dreadful temptations it sets before me. For some
unforgiven wickedness of my forefathers I am knit to this fiend––for a
fiend it surely is. I beg and beseech you to crush it out of human
semblance, even if I die for it.' Such were the words of the hapless
Mordake to Manvers and Treadwell, his physicians. In spite of careful
watching he managed to procure poison, whereof he died, leaving a letter
requesting that the 'demon face' might be destroyed before his burial,
'lest it continues its dreadful whisperings in my grave.' At his own
request he was interred in a waste place, without stone or legend to
mark his grave."


 
 
Link Posted: 9/25/2011 2:43:37 AM EDT
[#10]
Originally Posted By Banjaxed:
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Garryowen:
There were mass graves dug in Central Park during the Spanish Flu outbreak during WW1


Really?  I never knew this.  Off to look for Central Park ghost stories.

ETA:This is one of the better stories from the previous creepy thread.

Excellent thread.

After reading this ENTIRE thread (only took me 2 days :D) I have decided to post mine. I rarely share this story, however, it's true when you hear people say "I don't care what they think of me, I saw what I saw"

Anyways..


Back in the winter of 2001 my youngest son and I were on our way from Boise,Idaho to Medford, Oregon. We had taken a car trailer to his old place in Boise in order to haul his non-running Jeep to his new place in Medford. We hit an area of heavy snow in the southern Cascades around 2:00 a.m. It took 45 minutes or so to get down the mountain. We had, of course been drinking coffee to stay alert.

About 25 miles west of the pass it became obvious that the last few quarts of coffee had to be drained. We stopped at a wide spot in the road near a summer tourist haunt,deserted in winter. There is a gas station and ice cream joint on the west side of the road,closed this time of year,and no town or settlement within 30 miles. This is tall timber country, and unsettled.Across the road is a small parking area for the ice cream joint. It is paved and about 200 ft.wide and 80 ft.deep. I pulled in and as I stepped out with .45 on hip, it occurred to me in a flash that grabbing the 590 Mossy would be good.

As we walked to the far end of the area to be well off the road, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. The area directly to our front was open with a depth of 50 yards and a width of 100 yards. The night was clear and cold, 8-10 inches of snow on the ground, and with a moon almost full, so we could see quite well. While standing and taking a leak, with son about 15 ft.to my right I saw, as if springing from the earth in front of us across the open area 10 or 12 creatures moving RAPIDLY back and forth in sort of a Thatch weave pattern. These things, not human men, were close to 7 ft.tall, thin, bipedal with long arms, medium length gray fur, and damned fast on their feet. I brought the shotgun up and slid the safety off, as son was drawing his .45.

I don't know if I can adequately explain the overwhelming feeling of menace,but here goes. I had been operating on pure instinct since I had stepped from the pickup,the rotten feeling hit me a split second before the things arrived, the feeling?, instinct?, was that we were prey, and subject to a very bad death, and to be slaughtered and eaten, not a logical process, gut feeling and massively overwhelming.

As they were moving about in front of us,more appeared and mixed among them,all the while running about fast in front of us. Son and I were backing toward the truck, I WOULD NOT present my back to them, and some of them peeled off right and left in an encirclement movement. They were rolling in fast from the sides now, I could smell and feel their presence. We got to the truck loaded on adrenaline and ready to kill, as we both knew we were in grave danger. We piled into the truck,locked doors. I had keys out and ready, as my butt neared the seat, I had the engine lit and trans. in gear and gas pedal mashed in one motion. Adrenaline is great stuff! As we fled, yes fled, something VERY close by let out a ululating scream of rage, and pain. I believe one or more of the group had gotten really close to us in their pursuit and I ran over the foot of one of them, yeah they were that close. We rolled onto the highway and I told son to watch the bed of the pickup as well as the trailer, he already was indexed to the rear with the shotgun. We hauled ass for at least 20 miles before the feeling of grave danger started to abate. The feeling that nailed both of us, as we discussed soon afterward, was one of being prey, and soon to be slaughtered and eaten. I am not easily led, and neither believe or disbelieve all the bigfoot, ghost and werewolf stuff, in fact I am skeptical. Son was speaking with a coworker about 6 months later who had grown up in Prospect, Oregon, about 30 miles south of Union Creek where the incident took place. He asked Jake if he had ever heard of any strange goings-on in the area. Jake went ashy white and pretty much retold the above tale. He says to avoid the place at night. A family friend, a 25 yr. retired cop not given to flights of fancy and an excellent observer, had a tale very similar from a year before. I told my wife of this event of course, she looked at me at the beginning as though I had developed a 3rd eyeball in the center of my forehead. That was from shock, she did believe me, but did not wish to hear any details. She said the tale gave her chills. Me too, as I write this, hair on back of neck and forearms is sticking up.

I have NOT gone back to explore, and would not without a large group of shotgun and flamethrower equipped men with me.

Son and I are both sane, sober persons, and not taken to hysteria. We were wide, VERY wide awake as things transpired. We saw and smelled what was there. As a sidebar neither of us heard footfalls from the creatures. They were silent until i hurt one as we were getting the Hell out of there.

To my knowledge, and I have researched, there is nothing that matches these creatures, unless one considers old legends and folk tales of were creatures. To conclude, I have to fall back on Elmer Keith's famous line, "Hell,I was there."

Best regards, Ryan B.


I have heard stories of something similar.

http://www.mythicalcreaturesguide.com/page/Wendigo


There is a member here from Winnemucca, NV who thinks he encountered one out in the desert wilderness.  He posted a fairly lengthy story in either the epic skinwalker thread a few years ago or Swindle's creepy thread.
Link Posted: 9/25/2011 12:43:02 PM EDT
[#11]
Originally Posted By HellBent:
I've always liked these threads when they pop up, but have never contributed...

I'll toss in a couple from a hospital I used to work at in my hometown.  Closed down a couple of years ago, was recently used as a set for a "Humans vs Zombies" flick coming out this year.

Worked nights there as an ER tech for a couple of years after EMT school - this would have been in the early 90's.  There were always tales about the top floor, which had once been the Labor/Delivery ward (I was actually one of the last kids born there, in 1975, before they stopped doing L&D).  Older nurses wouldn't go up alone and some would swear to hear crying babies and other phenomenon at night - the ward hadn't seen a birth in over 20 years at the time, and only housed daytime surgery and lab (I always figured this was just another "urban legend" type of story that eventually springs up around any facility over time) .  This becomes important in the last part of my story...

Anyhow, at the time the ER was only manned at night by a tech (me) and the Charge Nurse for the floor would come to the ER when a patient presented.  Being an empty facility (separated by a loooong hallway from the inhabited areas), and being alone in the area that had seen more deaths than I could count brought it's own creep factor.  The only REALLY significant event I personally witnessed is fairly minor, but freaked us out pretty good.

One cold winter's night, the ER Nurse was finishing up some charting after a patient had left.  The nurse's station was separated from my location by only about 20 feet, and she could monitor anyone coming into the ER from there.  I thought I'd take the opportunity to stretch my legs (a chance I only got if a nurse was present to monitor the ER Entrance) and grab a soda from the vending machine, down near the med/surg floor.  I poked my head in and asked if she wanted anything then headed out for the snacks.  I got a little caught up in whatever was playing on the TV in the lounge area and loitered around for maybe 5 minutes.  When I strolled back into her spot (from the west hallway), her eyes got a little big and she looked concerned... She asked where I just came from, and I told her the breakroom.  She thought I had already been back as she heard someone go into the bathroom (which was just east of her spot).  No problem, someone probably entered the ER and stepped into the restroom with the entry unmanned, it happens...  The restroom was a single entry "one-holer" - just a door into a small, 3x3 or so room with a sink and toilet.  I stood outside the door for a few seconds, preparing to knock and make sure that no one was needing any sort of assistance - it WAS an ER after all...  We heard the faucet handles squeak and water running, a little shuffling - typical bathroom noise.  After maybe 30 seconds of silence, i decided to knock, again just making sure that someone hadn't wandered in and passed out.  I knocked once and asked if they needed help, only answer was the toilet flushing.  Waited a few more seconds and knocked again - nothing...  

By now, I'm getting a little concerned for the welfare of the apparent deaf/mute in the shitter.  The nurse ducked back into her station to retrieve the screwdriver we used as a "key" - less than 10 foot away and only out of sight for MAYBE 3 seconds.  I knocked once more and then popped the lock.  Room was COMPLETELY empty.  Light was on (which was normally off, the door stood open until occupied) and drops of water were still beaded up on the porcelain sink.  The toilet was finishing refilling, water still running into the bowl, and shut off as we stood there.  There was absolutely NO alternative exit from the room.  I wanted to believe it was just a freak plumbing episode, but we so clearly heard the squeaky faucet knobs being turned, SQUEAK ON - RUNNING WATER - SQUEAK OFF.  Even turned the knobs myself to replicate the sound....


Segue to a few weeks later.  Same nurse and myself on duty.  I mentioned earlier that the nurses HATED going upstairs at night.  Unfortunately, lab slips had to be time-stamped at 4 AM.  One of our local officers made it a point to stop by each morning, bringing us snacks from the local stop-and-rob then escorting the charge nurse upstairs for the 5 minutes or so it would take to stamp the slips.  If an officer was unavailable, a second nurse from the floor would go (But NEVER the older nurses - they refused and cited the crying babies/self-rolling stretchers/slamming doors/etc).  One of the officers had even related a story to me of opening the lab door for one of the nurses and having it slammed FORCEFULLY back into him.  Suspecting a break-in, he forced the door and found the room empty that night as well...

Anyhow, the NIQ (Nurse in Question) on this particular night had been giving me some grief after the bathroom incident, trying to sneak into the area and toss objects/slam doors/flicker lights - whatever she could do to spook me.  I decided on revenge.  I called Officer Friendly and told him that he should be "busy" come 4 A.M., but to park his patrol car at the back entrance and be ready to help me with my plan...  When the hour arrived, the NIQ strolls up to my desk, asking if I'd seen her cop escort.  I feigned a phone call to the dispatcher and told her that he was busy.  No problem, she'd get a nurse to accompany her.  Once her "escort" arrived, they headed for the elevators - obviously a little uneasy.

Perfect.

I called my accomplice inside and showed him my evil plan.  I had taken the spare ambulance stretcher and made a "body" on it.  Pillows where the chest would be, an inflated glove to form the head.  Rolled up blankets made the legs and a manila file folder tee-pee'd for feet.  With a sheet draped over it, it bore a striking resemblance to a covered corpse.  The second floor had three exits - a fire exit on the FAAAAAAR end of the spooky hallway, and the elevator itself, which was adjacent to the second fire exit door.  We gave them sufficient time to enter the lab, and then called the elevator back down.  Once we had rolled our "corpse" into the elevator, we sent it back up and made a dash for the fire exit door it faced, standing in the stairwell and holding it tightly closed.  In no time at all we hear them exit the lab, talking nervously like women do with they're a little scared but under control.  I heard them push the "down" button, and heard the elevator doors slide open - and then all hell broke loose...

Coffee cups crashed, two women screamed with the voices of 20, one bounced off the wall, while the other tried desperately (and in vain) to open the fire door to escape.  After a few seconds, we opened the door for them, howling with laughter.  They were nearly in tears, 2 dozen lab slips were scattered across the hallway, coffee was dripping from the ceiling.

But, she NEVER fucked with me again...



Our city is hosting this Halloween's Haunted House in the old hospital building this year.  I hope to get some quality time on that second floor...



It was soooooooooo worth reading that entire wall of text!
Link Posted: 9/25/2011 1:55:49 PM EDT
[#12]




Originally Posted By Jolkm:



Originally Posted By HellBent:

I've always liked these threads when they pop up, but have never contributed...



I'll toss in a couple from a hospital I used to work at in my hometown. Closed down a couple of years ago, was recently used as a set for a "Humans vs Zombies" flick coming out this year.



Worked nights there as an ER tech for a couple of years after EMT school - this would have been in the early 90's. There were always tales about the top floor, which had once been the Labor/Delivery ward (I was actually one of the last kids born there, in 1975, before they stopped doing L&D). Older nurses wouldn't go up alone and some would swear to hear crying babies and other phenomenon at night - the ward hadn't seen a birth in over 20 years at the time, and only housed daytime surgery and lab (I always figured this was just another "urban legend" type of story that eventually springs up around any facility over time) . This becomes important in the last part of my story...



Anyhow, at the time the ER was only manned at night by a tech (me) and the Charge Nurse for the floor would come to the ER when a patient presented. Being an empty facility (separated by a loooong hallway from the inhabited areas), and being alone in the area that had seen more deaths than I could count brought it's own creep factor. The only REALLY significant event I personally witnessed is fairly minor, but freaked us out pretty good.



One cold winter's night, the ER Nurse was finishing up some charting after a patient had left. The nurse's station was separated from my location by only about 20 feet, and she could monitor anyone coming into the ER from there. I thought I'd take the opportunity to stretch my legs (a chance I only got if a nurse was present to monitor the ER Entrance) and grab a soda from the vending machine, down near the med/surg floor. I poked my head in and asked if she wanted anything then headed out for the snacks. I got a little caught up in whatever was playing on the TV in the lounge area and loitered around for maybe 5 minutes. When I strolled back into her spot (from the west hallway), her eyes got a little big and she looked concerned... She asked where I just came from, and I told her the breakroom. She thought I had already been back as she heard someone go into the bathroom (which was just east of her spot). No problem, someone probably entered the ER and stepped into the restroom with the entry unmanned, it happens... The restroom was a single entry "one-holer" - just a door into a small, 3x3 or so room with a sink and toilet. I stood outside the door for a few seconds, preparing to knock and make sure that no one was needing any sort of assistance - it WAS an ER after all... We heard the faucet handles squeak and water running, a little shuffling - typical bathroom noise. After maybe 30 seconds of silence, i decided to knock, again just making sure that someone hadn't wandered in and passed out. I knocked once and asked if they needed help, only answer was the toilet flushing. Waited a few more seconds and knocked again - nothing...



By now, I'm getting a little concerned for the welfare of the apparent deaf/mute in the shitter. The nurse ducked back into her station to retrieve the screwdriver we used as a "key" - less than 10 foot away and only out of sight for MAYBE 3 seconds. I knocked once more and then popped the lock. Room was COMPLETELY empty. Light was on (which was normally off, the door stood open until occupied) and drops of water were still beaded up on the porcelain sink. The toilet was finishing refilling, water still running into the bowl, and shut off as we stood there. There was absolutely NO alternative exit from the room. I wanted to believe it was just a freak plumbing episode, but we so clearly heard the squeaky faucet knobs being turned, SQUEAK ON - RUNNING WATER - SQUEAK OFF. Even turned the knobs myself to replicate the sound....





Segue to a few weeks later. Same nurse and myself on duty. I mentioned earlier that the nurses HATED going upstairs at night. Unfortunately, lab slips had to be time-stamped at 4 AM. One of our local officers made it a point to stop by each morning, bringing us snacks from the local stop-and-rob then escorting the charge nurse upstairs for the 5 minutes or so it would take to stamp the slips. If an officer was unavailable, a second nurse from the floor would go (But NEVER the older nurses - they refused and cited the crying babies/self-rolling stretchers/slamming doors/etc). One of the officers had even related a story to me of opening the lab door for one of the nurses and having it slammed FORCEFULLY back into him. Suspecting a break-in, he forced the door and found the room empty that night as well...



Anyhow, the NIQ (Nurse in Question) on this particular night had been giving me some grief after the bathroom incident, trying to sneak into the area and toss objects/slam doors/flicker lights - whatever she could do to spook me. I decided on revenge. I called Officer Friendly and told him that he should be "busy" come 4 A.M., but to park his patrol car at the back entrance and be ready to help me with my plan... When the hour arrived, the NIQ strolls up to my desk, asking if I'd seen her cop escort. I feigned a phone call to the dispatcher and told her that he was busy. No problem, she'd get a nurse to accompany her. Once her "escort" arrived, they headed for the elevators - obviously a little uneasy.



Perfect.



I called my accomplice inside and showed him my evil plan. I had taken the spare ambulance stretcher and made a "body" on it. Pillows where the chest would be, an inflated glove to form the head. Rolled up blankets made the legs and a manila file folder tee-pee'd for feet. With a sheet draped over it, it bore a striking resemblance to a covered corpse. The second floor had three exits - a fire exit on the FAAAAAAR end of the spooky hallway, and the elevator itself, which was adjacent to the second fire exit door. We gave them sufficient time to enter the lab, and then called the elevator back down. Once we had rolled our "corpse" into the elevator, we sent it back up and made a dash for the fire exit door it faced, standing in the stairwell and holding it tightly closed. In no time at all we hear them exit the lab, talking nervously like women do with they're a little scared but under control. I heard them push the "down" button, and heard the elevator doors slide open - and then all hell broke loose...



Coffee cups crashed, two women screamed with the voices of 20, one bounced off the wall, while the other tried desperately (and in vain) to open the fire door to escape. After a few seconds, we opened the door for them, howling with laughter. They were nearly in tears, 2 dozen lab slips were scattered across the hallway, coffee was dripping from the ceiling.



But, she NEVER fucked with me again...
Our city is hosting this Halloween's Haunted House in the old hospital building this year. I hope to get some quality time on that second floor...







It was soooooooooo worth reading that entire wall of text!







It was a bit of a read, by Arfcom standards, but NOT a wall of text.  



Paragrahps and breaks, and complete sentences.  Well-written.

Link Posted: 9/25/2011 7:05:44 PM EDT
[#13]
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Banjaxed:
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Garryowen:
There were mass graves dug in Central Park during the Spanish Flu outbreak during WW1


Really?  I never knew this.  Off to look for Central Park ghost stories.

ETA:This is one of the better stories from the previous creepy thread.

Excellent thread.

After reading this ENTIRE thread (only took me 2 days :D) I have decided to post mine. I rarely share this story, however, it's true when you hear people say "I don't care what they think of me, I saw what I saw"

Anyways..


Back in the winter of 2001 my youngest son and I were on our way from Boise,Idaho to Medford, Oregon. We had taken a car trailer to his old place in Boise in order to haul his non-running Jeep to his new place in Medford. We hit an area of heavy snow in the southern Cascades around 2:00 a.m. It took 45 minutes or so to get down the mountain. We had, of course been drinking coffee to stay alert.

About 25 miles west of the pass it became obvious that the last few quarts of coffee had to be drained. We stopped at a wide spot in the road near a summer tourist haunt,deserted in winter. There is a gas station and ice cream joint on the west side of the road,closed this time of year,and no town or settlement within 30 miles. This is tall timber country, and unsettled.Across the road is a small parking area for the ice cream joint. It is paved and about 200 ft.wide and 80 ft.deep. I pulled in and as I stepped out with .45 on hip, it occurred to me in a flash that grabbing the 590 Mossy would be good.

As we walked to the far end of the area to be well off the road, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. The area directly to our front was open with a depth of 50 yards and a width of 100 yards. The night was clear and cold, 8-10 inches of snow on the ground, and with a moon almost full, so we could see quite well. While standing and taking a leak, with son about 15 ft.to my right I saw, as if springing from the earth in front of us across the open area 10 or 12 creatures moving RAPIDLY back and forth in sort of a Thatch weave pattern. These things, not human men, were close to 7 ft.tall, thin, bipedal with long arms, medium length gray fur, and damned fast on their feet. I brought the shotgun up and slid the safety off, as son was drawing his .45.

I don't know if I can adequately explain the overwhelming feeling of menace,but here goes. I had been operating on pure instinct since I had stepped from the pickup,the rotten feeling hit me a split second before the things arrived, the feeling?, instinct?, was that we were prey, and subject to a very bad death, and to be slaughtered and eaten, not a logical process, gut feeling and massively overwhelming.

As they were moving about in front of us,more appeared and mixed among them,all the while running about fast in front of us. Son and I were backing toward the truck, I WOULD NOT present my back to them, and some of them peeled off right and left in an encirclement movement. They were rolling in fast from the sides now, I could smell and feel their presence. We got to the truck loaded on adrenaline and ready to kill, as we both knew we were in grave danger. We piled into the truck,locked doors. I had keys out and ready, as my butt neared the seat, I had the engine lit and trans. in gear and gas pedal mashed in one motion. Adrenaline is great stuff! As we fled, yes fled, something VERY close by let out a ululating scream of rage, and pain. I believe one or more of the group had gotten really close to us in their pursuit and I ran over the foot of one of them, yeah they were that close. We rolled onto the highway and I told son to watch the bed of the pickup as well as the trailer, he already was indexed to the rear with the shotgun. We hauled ass for at least 20 miles before the feeling of grave danger started to abate. The feeling that nailed both of us, as we discussed soon afterward, was one of being prey, and soon to be slaughtered and eaten. I am not easily led, and neither believe or disbelieve all the bigfoot, ghost and werewolf stuff, in fact I am skeptical. Son was speaking with a coworker about 6 months later who had grown up in Prospect, Oregon, about 30 miles south of Union Creek where the incident took place. He asked Jake if he had ever heard of any strange goings-on in the area. Jake went ashy white and pretty much retold the above tale. He says to avoid the place at night. A family friend, a 25 yr. retired cop not given to flights of fancy and an excellent observer, had a tale very similar from a year before. I told my wife of this event of course, she looked at me at the beginning as though I had developed a 3rd eyeball in the center of my forehead. That was from shock, she did believe me, but did not wish to hear any details. She said the tale gave her chills. Me too, as I write this, hair on back of neck and forearms is sticking up.

I have NOT gone back to explore, and would not without a large group of shotgun and flamethrower equipped men with me.

Son and I are both sane, sober persons, and not taken to hysteria. We were wide, VERY wide awake as things transpired. We saw and smelled what was there. As a sidebar neither of us heard footfalls from the creatures. They were silent until i hurt one as we were getting the Hell out of there.

To my knowledge, and I have researched, there is nothing that matches these creatures, unless one considers old legends and folk tales of were creatures. To conclude, I have to fall back on Elmer Keith's famous line, "Hell,I was there."

Best regards, Ryan B.


I have heard stories of something similar.

http://www.mythicalcreaturesguide.com/page/Wendigo


There is a member here from Winnemucca, NV who thinks he encountered one out in the desert wilderness.  He posted a fairly lengthy story in either the epic skinwalker thread a few years ago or Swindle's creepy thread.


just want to bump this incase someone comes across his story

Link Posted: 9/25/2011 8:40:52 PM EDT
[Last Edit: PowerSlave] [#14]
My home place always has creeped me out, but only after dark. Just East of Cache OK. on the East side of the hill on old 62. One member here lives South of the place this story happened now. It's not scary, but it could have been if you think about it. It takes place in the early 90s in November.
I used to Coyote hunt at night, before all of the houses were built around the area (I still do, but I have to be careful where I setup). Jose, one of my running buddies back then, and I would go to a German meat market in Lawton and get the scraps. We would haul them out and dump them about 200yds from my creek, and sit about 50yds from there. We'd wait until dark and the yapping started, turn on a spot light and shoot one,or maybe two if we were lucky.
This night we were not having any luck. Not one locator howl near dark, nothing. We sat up until about 1:00 in the morning. We had given up and were talking about the reason nothing was out. We were over looking the creek to the East, when we spotted a bright light down on the creek. It came on, moved around a bit, and went off. We figured this was the reason, someone else was out spotlighting, or it was the rancher across the creek. It came on again, and pointed in our direction and turned on and off briefly like code or something, then went out.
We looked at each other like WTF? I flipped my light up and tried to repeat the same sequence.




No reply, just night. We sat there for about 20min, and packed it up. This was a Wednesday night.
We were supposed to go again the next night (Thursday), but Jose bailed. I was going to go by myself. I called my dad to tell him I was going, and that it would be my truck lights he saw. He told me one of the cows has a new calf, and he didn't want me to go. He was afraid I wouldn't see it in the tall grass, and run over it. I didn't go due to this, and it was pretty cold from a front that came in that morning. Besides, my girlfriend at the time was in the mood to give out some pie!! She had goooood pie!
The next morning (Friday) my dad called and asked if I had gone out there. I told him I didn't, why.




He replied "Someone killed that calf last night".
I asked if it had been shot, or run over. He told me neither, and I wouldn't believe it if he told me.
Someone, or some thing had cut this calf from the throat to the anus, and removed all of the internal organs, tongue everything. The pecker and nutsac were removed, the left ear was cut off, and the cheek on the left side was cut out in a crescent shape. the only thing that was not cut with a very sharp object was a golf ball sized chunk the was pulled out of the left hip. Here is the weird part, if the aforementioned isn't weird enough. This calf was laying in 2 foot tall love grass, and there wasn't a drop of blood to be found.
Dad checked the cows the night before, and said that is where the calf was sleeping the night before it was killed. He found it in that same spot that morning.
I've always wondered if the light we saw the night before had something to do with it, and I'm glad I decided not to go out alone that night.
How do you "clean" an animal like that and not make a mess?
Why just take the guts?
Why did they/it leave it there? Could have just took the whole thing and done what ever with it. We would have thought the coyotes chased it through the fence and it was gone.
We took it to the vet to have them look at it. The vet told us who ever did it, knew bovine anatomy, and made the cuts with a surgical instrument.
There were a few other reports of similar happenings that year. The only other one I can remember was over around Chattanooga OK. at the Coyote Hills Ranch.
I hated to see that little guy die that way. I took him below the pond where we usually drag the dead cows and leave them. I decided I'd dig a grave and cover him up.
The next week I was over by the pond trying to sneak up on some ducks I saw land. I was coming out of the creek, and found the grave I'd dug had been disturbed. I figured coyotes had dug him up. When I got up to it, I realized it had been dug with a shovel, and all the dirt was piled to the side. The remains were gone.
I have the pictures of the calf somewhere, and my dad called KSWO 7. They came out and did a video on it. I have that on VHS somewhere too.
This is just some of the weird shit I've seen on my creek in the last 45 years...........
This had happened once before about 1976 when I was a kid. We found one of our calves similarly cut up down by the bridge.

 

 
Link Posted: 9/25/2011 11:20:25 PM EDT
[#15]
Sounds like the typical animal mutilation story.......

But it is nothing to worry about, at least the .gov says so.
Link Posted: 9/25/2011 11:21:42 PM EDT
[#16]
tag
Link Posted: 9/25/2011 11:48:18 PM EDT
[#17]
Originally Posted By Krink:
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Banjaxed:
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Garryowen:
There were mass graves dug in Central Park during the Spanish Flu outbreak during WW1


Really?  I never knew this.  Off to look for Central Park ghost stories.

ETA:This is one of the better stories from the previous creepy thread.

Excellent thread.

After reading this ENTIRE thread (only took me 2 days :D) I have decided to post mine. I rarely share this story, however, it's true when you hear people say "I don't care what they think of me, I saw what I saw"

Anyways..


Back in the winter of 2001 my youngest son and I were on our way from Boise,Idaho to Medford, Oregon. We had taken a car trailer to his old place in Boise in order to haul his non-running Jeep to his new place in Medford. We hit an area of heavy snow in the southern Cascades around 2:00 a.m. It took 45 minutes or so to get down the mountain. We had, of course been drinking coffee to stay alert.

About 25 miles west of the pass it became obvious that the last few quarts of coffee had to be drained. We stopped at a wide spot in the road near a summer tourist haunt,deserted in winter. There is a gas station and ice cream joint on the west side of the road,closed this time of year,and no town or settlement within 30 miles. This is tall timber country, and unsettled.Across the road is a small parking area for the ice cream joint. It is paved and about 200 ft.wide and 80 ft.deep. I pulled in and as I stepped out with .45 on hip, it occurred to me in a flash that grabbing the 590 Mossy would be good.

As we walked to the far end of the area to be well off the road, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. The area directly to our front was open with a depth of 50 yards and a width of 100 yards. The night was clear and cold, 8-10 inches of snow on the ground, and with a moon almost full, so we could see quite well. While standing and taking a leak, with son about 15 ft.to my right I saw, as if springing from the earth in front of us across the open area 10 or 12 creatures moving RAPIDLY back and forth in sort of a Thatch weave pattern. These things, not human men, were close to 7 ft.tall, thin, bipedal with long arms, medium length gray fur, and damned fast on their feet. I brought the shotgun up and slid the safety off, as son was drawing his .45.

I don't know if I can adequately explain the overwhelming feeling of menace,but here goes. I had been operating on pure instinct since I had stepped from the pickup,the rotten feeling hit me a split second before the things arrived, the feeling?, instinct?, was that we were prey, and subject to a very bad death, and to be slaughtered and eaten, not a logical process, gut feeling and massively overwhelming.

As they were moving about in front of us,more appeared and mixed among them,all the while running about fast in front of us. Son and I were backing toward the truck, I WOULD NOT present my back to them, and some of them peeled off right and left in an encirclement movement. They were rolling in fast from the sides now, I could smell and feel their presence. We got to the truck loaded on adrenaline and ready to kill, as we both knew we were in grave danger. We piled into the truck,locked doors. I had keys out and ready, as my butt neared the seat, I had the engine lit and trans. in gear and gas pedal mashed in one motion. Adrenaline is great stuff! As we fled, yes fled, something VERY close by let out a ululating scream of rage, and pain. I believe one or more of the group had gotten really close to us in their pursuit and I ran over the foot of one of them, yeah they were that close. We rolled onto the highway and I told son to watch the bed of the pickup as well as the trailer, he already was indexed to the rear with the shotgun. We hauled ass for at least 20 miles before the feeling of grave danger started to abate. The feeling that nailed both of us, as we discussed soon afterward, was one of being prey, and soon to be slaughtered and eaten. I am not easily led, and neither believe or disbelieve all the bigfoot, ghost and werewolf stuff, in fact I am skeptical. Son was speaking with a coworker about 6 months later who had grown up in Prospect, Oregon, about 30 miles south of Union Creek where the incident took place. He asked Jake if he had ever heard of any strange goings-on in the area. Jake went ashy white and pretty much retold the above tale. He says to avoid the place at night. A family friend, a 25 yr. retired cop not given to flights of fancy and an excellent observer, had a tale very similar from a year before. I told my wife of this event of course, she looked at me at the beginning as though I had developed a 3rd eyeball in the center of my forehead. That was from shock, she did believe me, but did not wish to hear any details. She said the tale gave her chills. Me too, as I write this, hair on back of neck and forearms is sticking up.

I have NOT gone back to explore, and would not without a large group of shotgun and flamethrower equipped men with me.

Son and I are both sane, sober persons, and not taken to hysteria. We were wide, VERY wide awake as things transpired. We saw and smelled what was there. As a sidebar neither of us heard footfalls from the creatures. They were silent until i hurt one as we were getting the Hell out of there.

To my knowledge, and I have researched, there is nothing that matches these creatures, unless one considers old legends and folk tales of were creatures. To conclude, I have to fall back on Elmer Keith's famous line, "Hell,I was there."

Best regards, Ryan B.


I have heard stories of something similar.

http://www.mythicalcreaturesguide.com/page/Wendigo


There is a member here from Winnemucca, NV who thinks he encountered one out in the desert wilderness.  He posted a fairly lengthy story in either the epic skinwalker thread a few years ago or Swindle's creepy thread.


just want to bump this incase someone comes across his story



If someone with access to the archives would be so kind, I (and I'm assuming Krink) would really appreciate it if you could dig this story up.  I know someone did once before for me (techgal maybe?).  

A few more details about that story that I can remember were the poster was alone, he had a G3 clone (PTR-91?) and a USP with him, and he put at least a few rounds into whatever he encountered, which had no effect.
Link Posted: 9/26/2011 1:42:02 AM EDT
[#18]




Originally Posted By PowerSlave:



My home place always has creeped me out, but only after dark. Just East of Cache OK. on the East side of the hill on old 62. One member here lives South of the place this story happened now. It's not scary, but it could have been if you think about it. It takes place in the early 90s in November.



. . .



This had happened once before about 1976 when I was a kid. We found one of our calves similarly cut up down by the bridge.







Not scary? The hell you say!



I'm sure I'm not alone in saying, I'd love to see the photos and the video from the news, if you can find them.



Animal mutilations is one of those things that has never recieved the kind of attention the subject deserves.

Link Posted: 9/26/2011 1:43:25 AM EDT
[#19]




Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:



If someone with access to the archives would be so kind, I (and I'm assuming Krink) would really appreciate it if you could dig this story up. I know someone did once before for me (techgal maybe?).



A few more details about that story that I can remember were the poster was alone, he had a G3 clone (PTR-91?) and a USP with him, and he put at least a few rounds into whatever he encountered, which had no effect.







I'm about 99% sure that was in Swindle's creepy thread.



I'll have a shot at finding it tomorrow, unless somebody else beats me to the punch . . .



Link Posted: 9/26/2011 1:44:32 AM EDT
[#20]
Not a creepy story but strange none the less. I am 1/4 Native American (Lakota Souix my paternal grandmother was full blood). My girlfriend at the time was half Cherokee and wanted to go to a Native American festival that weekend. Now I never really knew much about my ancestors from that part of the family as my grandfather was a reverend and discouraged my grandmother from talking about any part of her life or beliefs growing up on the reservation. Either way were are at the festival and the girlfriend is waiting in line at the bathrooms so I'm looking around at the various knick nacks and trinkets on sale by the vendors. As I'm strolling along eyeing the displays some motion catches my eye between two the tent stalls.

I stop and turn to see an old Indian man dressed up in period attire raising his hand towards me. Something about him seemed off but not in a threatening way. Actually the off feeling was more of a tranquility, kind of warm and fuzzy all over feeling I suddenly got standing there (really scary right?). He smiled and then said something in a language I did not recognize. That something was Ehawee. At the time I had no idea what that meant so I just awkwardly smiled and nodded out of politeness and turned to continue walking. I turned back after some distance to see that he was gone. For the rest of the day I never gave it another thought.

Fast forward a few days later and I'm sitting in my grandmothers kitchen drinking a cup of coffee and visiting with her after picking up some things from her to put out in our yard sale. I mentioned having gone to the festival a few days ago and then it dawned on me to ask her if she knew what the word the old Indian man had said to me meant. I tried sounding it out but had a hard time remembering what exactly it was he had said. As I'm struggling sounding it out she is watching me with wide eyed attention and she suddenly blurts out "EHAWEE". "Yeah that's it" I say "What does it mean". She looks over her shoulder into the living room where grandpa is snoring away in his recliner, then leans over the table towards me and says "It is my birth name. It means maiden with great joy". Prior to this I had only known her Christian name and had never heard her birth name. She then quietly tells me that what I saw was not a man at all but a spirit, and that I received a blessing that day by it's visit. She said there were good and bad spirits that walked among her people and you knew which were which by how you felt in their presence.

Grandpa passed away a few years back and grandma will now discuss things about her past more openly. I saw the original skinwalker thread sometime ago and asked her what she knew of them. Other than saying there are bad people who deal with bad spirits she refused to say anymore about them.
Link Posted: 9/26/2011 2:33:10 AM EDT
[#21]
Originally Posted By soldierman79:
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By Garryowen:
There were mass graves dug in Central Park during the Spanish Flu outbreak during WW1


Really?  I never knew this.  Off to look for Central Park ghost stories.

ETA:This is one of the better stories from the previous creepy thread.

Excellent thread.

After reading this ENTIRE thread (only took me 2 days :D) I have decided to post mine. I rarely share this story, however, it's true when you hear people say "I don't care what they think of me, I saw what I saw"

Anyways..


Back in the winter of 2001 my youngest son and I were on our way from Boise,Idaho to Medford, Oregon. We had taken a car trailer to his old place in Boise in order to haul his non-running Jeep to his new place in Medford. We hit an area of heavy snow in the southern Cascades around 2:00 a.m. It took 45 minutes or so to get down the mountain. We had, of course been drinking coffee to stay alert.

About 25 miles west of the pass it became obvious that the last few quarts of coffee had to be drained. We stopped at a wide spot in the road near a summer tourist haunt,deserted in winter. There is a gas station and ice cream joint on the west side of the road,closed this time of year,and no town or settlement within 30 miles. This is tall timber country, and unsettled.Across the road is a small parking area for the ice cream joint. It is paved and about 200 ft.wide and 80 ft.deep. I pulled in and as I stepped out with .45 on hip, it occurred to me in a flash that grabbing the 590 Mossy would be good.

As we walked to the far end of the area to be well off the road, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. The area directly to our front was open with a depth of 50 yards and a width of 100 yards. The night was clear and cold, 8-10 inches of snow on the ground, and with a moon almost full, so we could see quite well. While standing and taking a leak, with son about 15 ft.to my right I saw, as if springing from the earth in front of us across the open area 10 or 12 creatures moving RAPIDLY back and forth in sort of a Thatch weave pattern. These things, not human men, were close to 7 ft.tall, thin, bipedal with long arms, medium length gray fur, and damned fast on their feet. I brought the shotgun up and slid the safety off, as son was drawing his .45.

I don't know if I can adequately explain the overwhelming feeling of menace,but here goes. I had been operating on pure instinct since I had stepped from the pickup,the rotten feeling hit me a split second before the things arrived, the feeling?, instinct?, was that we were prey, and subject to a very bad death, and to be slaughtered and eaten, not a logical process, gut feeling and massively overwhelming.

As they were moving about in front of us,more appeared and mixed among them,all the while running about fast in front of us. Son and I were backing toward the truck, I WOULD NOT present my back to them, and some of them peeled off right and left in an encirclement movement. They were rolling in fast from the sides now, I could smell and feel their presence. We got to the truck loaded on adrenaline and ready to kill, as we both knew we were in grave danger. We piled into the truck,locked doors. I had keys out and ready, as my butt neared the seat, I had the engine lit and trans. in gear and gas pedal mashed in one motion. Adrenaline is great stuff! As we fled, yes fled, something VERY close by let out a ululating scream of rage, and pain. I believe one or more of the group had gotten really close to us in their pursuit and I ran over the foot of one of them, yeah they were that close. We rolled onto the highway and I told son to watch the bed of the pickup as well as the trailer, he already was indexed to the rear with the shotgun. We hauled ass for at least 20 miles before the feeling of grave danger started to abate. The feeling that nailed both of us, as we discussed soon afterward, was one of being prey, and soon to be slaughtered and eaten. I am not easily led, and neither believe or disbelieve all the bigfoot, ghost and werewolf stuff, in fact I am skeptical. Son was speaking with a coworker about 6 months later who had grown up in Prospect, Oregon, about 30 miles south of Union Creek where the incident took place. He asked Jake if he had ever heard of any strange goings-on in the area. Jake went ashy white and pretty much retold the above tale. He says to avoid the place at night. A family friend, a 25 yr. retired cop not given to flights of fancy and an excellent observer, had a tale very similar from a year before. I told my wife of this event of course, she looked at me at the beginning as though I had developed a 3rd eyeball in the center of my forehead. That was from shock, she did believe me, but did not wish to hear any details. She said the tale gave her chills. Me too, as I write this, hair on back of neck and forearms is sticking up.

I have NOT gone back to explore, and would not without a large group of shotgun and flamethrower equipped men with me.

Son and I are both sane, sober persons, and not taken to hysteria. We were wide, VERY wide awake as things transpired. We saw and smelled what was there. As a sidebar neither of us heard footfalls from the creatures. They were silent until i hurt one as we were getting the Hell out of there.

To my knowledge, and I have researched, there is nothing that matches these creatures, unless one considers old legends and folk tales of were creatures. To conclude, I have to fall back on Elmer Keith's famous line, "Hell,I was there."

Best regards, Ryan B.


That is some seriously scary stuff! I love to hunt and camp and fish but that story has me wanting eyes in the back of my head.


I always read this story when posted.  

I keep looking behind me to make sure nothing is there... err, actually I'm checking to make sure my girlfriend is sleeping alright behind me, that's what i'm actualy doing.. .
Link Posted: 9/26/2011 2:55:11 PM EDT
[#22]
Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:
Originally Posted By TheTracker:
Does anyone remember a story posted about 3 guys that found a tunnel of some sort?

One of the guys told the other two that he had found something really cool and wanted to show it to them.

They followed him down and they came to a door and he told them to knock on it .
They didn't want to and a fight broke out.

That's all I can remember about the story. I read it here and it was pretty creepy.



Here toy go.


I grew up in Salt Lake City, across the alley from a kid named Ron. When we were like 14 a kid named Nick moved in down the street. Nick wasn’t a Mormon but joined our scout troop, and the three of us became good friends. As scouts, we used to camp all the time at this place called Stansbury Island in the Great Salt Lake. In dry years when the lake was low it was really just a peninsula, but even when the lake was high you could get out to the island on a causeway. It was basically a little range of mountains that stuck up out of the lake. We had a great Scoutmaster who used to take us camping two times a month, most of the time to Stansbury. It was not that great of a place to camp, but we kind of felt like it was our place. We never saw anyone else out there.

When we were Juniors, Nick and I started partying and hanging out less with Ron. After we graduated, I went back east for college, Ron went to the U for a while before going on a Mormon mission, and Nick worked at Arby’s. After my Freshman year I spent the whole summer in Salt Lake working at a refinery, so I hung out with Nick and other friends from high school. The next summer I was only in Salt Lake for a few weeks. By that time Nick had started at the community college and was hanging out with these angst ridden poets, actors and other dorks. They didn’t like me much and the feeling was mutual. Nick’s gothish girlfriend wouldn’t call me by name, but always called me “frat boy.” She was a peach. Nick had started to do pot and acid and other stuff with his poet buddies, but I really didn’t care about any of that and we still had a good time when we went out with some of the old crowd.

Ron got home that winter from his mission in Argentina. I talked to him a few times over the school year and we agreed it would be fun to get together for a campout the next summer on Stansbury. I called Nick about going and he thought it was a great idea, and made sure that I had called Ron. We picked a date during the week I was going to be in Salt Lake that summer. Nick said he would call a couple of other guys who had been in our troop.

It turned out that just me, Nick and Ron could go. Nick had just totaled his beloved Firebird so we took Ron’s car, or actually his little brother’s car (little brother was now on a mission). It was a little Japanese station wagon, I think a Subaru. Ron picked me up at my mom’s and then we went and picked Nick up at his apartment in west Salt Lake. We had all been good friends, and it didn’t take long before we were conversing as comfortably as we had when we were 15.

Nick said he had been camping out at Stansbury a few times and that he had found some really cool spots, including an old mine, on the east side of the island (the road runs along the west side). We had always camped on the north end, and had never really been over there when we were scouts.

The car died on the way out there, right after we got off I-80 and started heading towards the island. I can’t remember what the problem was, but Ron said that you just had to let the car sit for half an hour. We waited and sure enough it started. We ended up camping in a spot about halfway down the island, where Nick said you could hike over the mountain to these cool spots he had found.

We brought KFC that night for dinner and ended up talking around the fire until 2 or 3 in the morning. I remember it was a full moon and that you could see your shadow at night. We had pop tarts for breakfast and went bunny hunting in the morning with 22s (I had a 10/22 and Ron had a lever action, I think a Marlin). We always did that but I don’t ever remember seeing very many rabbits out there. There were more cattle on Stansbury than wabbits.

At about 10 we left camp and took the Subaru up this little jeep trail that led to a water tank. Nick told us to bring some flashlights and he brought a rope. He led us to a foot trail that went to the east side of the island. About halfway down the mountain the trail led to this rock face kind of shaped like a bowl, and on the south side of it there was an old mine. It was a horizontal shaft heading southwest. Somebody had put steel bars over the door, but they had been pulled off and were lying on the ground. I remember sitting down to get all of the stickers out of my socks while the other two were talking.

The mine was a about six feet high, so me and Ron had to stoop a little. It was about three feet wide. After about 10 feet we came to T, and Nick had us take a right so we were heading pretty much directly north. We probably went about 150 feet or so, and by this time it would have been pitch black if not for the flashlights. The tunnel was straight but going down a little until it came to a big pit. The pit was only about 10 feet deep but it was at least that wide. There a piece of metal sticking out of the rock in the floor. Nick wrapped the middle of the rope around the peg and lowered himself down into the hole. Me and Ron followed. There was a rope on the other side of the pit already tied to the top. Ron was looking that way, and when I looked back and Nick was pulling the rope we had just climbed down into the hole. “What are you doing, we have to go out that way?” I asked. He said that we would need the rope later on, and showed me that he could throw the rope back up there and catch it on the peg when we needed to get out. He pulled the rope back down and put it over his shoulder. We all climbed out of the pit to the other side.

The tunnel continued north, going down a little more now than before. There were some tunnels taking off from the main passage on the left. Some of them only went a few feet, others you could not see the end of them. After a few minutes of walking, the tunnel suddenly seemed darker. At first I thought the rock was just darker, but I looked at it more carefully and it was covered with writing. I said “Nick, check this out. There is writing all over the wall.” He turned around and came back to where I was.

“Yeah, isn’t it weird. “

I could not make heads or tails out of the letters. Some of them looked familiar but all of them didn’t look like Roman letters, like they were Cyrillic or Greek or something. The writing covered the walls and ceiling. I wondered aloud if maybe some Greek or Russian miners had dug these tunnels. They brought in people from all over to work the mines. I turned back up the tunnel to see what Ron thought, and he was standing about six feet behind us.

“Ron, can you see this?” He didn’t say anything. He was pointing his flashlight right in my eyes so I couldn’t see him.

I started walking towards him and when I got back to him he said “Let’s go.” He turned and started walking back down the tunnel. Nick by this time had walked up and we both grabbed Ron’s arms. We both badgered him to continue up the tunnel. Nick said we were almost to the end. We finally convinced Ron to keep going, but he stayed behind the two of us.

As we went on, the writing on the wall got even thicker. Nick seemed like he was in a hurry so I could not take a good look at it, but it looked like there were little pictures mixed up in the writing too. I could not really tell what I was seeing, but I thought there were some pictures of skulls, like little Iron Maiden skulls. By this time I thought Nick had drawn on the walls and he was trying to freak us out.

After another minute or so of walking we came to a more open area. It was about 15x15 feet, with an old rickety wood door at the end. Nick set the rope down and stepped aside so me and Ron could file into the room. The walls of the room were bare rock, but I looked up at the ceiling, which was pretty high like 12 feet, and it appeared that there was more writing up there.

Nick walked up to the door and knocked on it two times. I was smirking by this time. Ron was by the entrance pointing his flashlight at Nick. He said “What the hell are you doing?”

Nick said “Just wait, this is really cool.”

Ron grabbed the rope and then turned around, saying “I’m leaving” over his shoulder. I let out a little laugh and turned back to Nick, smiling. Before I could say anything he ran past me and tackled Ron. Both of them hit the floor. I stood there for a while looking at Nick sitting on top of Ron, punching him in the face over and over again. Finally I ran up and grabbed Nick by the shoulders and tried to pull him off Ron. He turned around and punched me right in the nose. I fell back, but Ron was able to throw Nick off and get to his feet. Nick grabbed Ron and pulled him back into the room. Nick was pulling Ron towards the door. I got up and tried to pull Nick’s arms off of Ron. Nick tripped Ron, who fell hard on the floor, and then he turned and punched me again in the nose, knocking me back on my butt. Both Ron and I were a lot bigger than Nick but he was kicking the crap out of both of us.

Ron bolted for the tunnel. Again Nick grabbed him and started pulling him backwards. I got to my feet and grabbed my flashlight off the floor. It was a polished aluminum flashlight that took two D batteries. I held on to the end with the light and smashed the other end into Nick’s head. I did that three times until he fell. Ron ran out of the room, grabbing his light and the rope on his way down the tunnel.

I watched him go and started to stagger after him. After taking a few steps down the tunnel I was hit in the back and Nick knocked me to the floor. My breath was knocked out and I dropped my light. He got up off me and grabbed me by the back of my shirt. He was pulling me back towards the room. I was grabbing at the floor, but it was too smooth to gain any purchase. I grabbed my light as he was pulling me past it, and flipped over with everything I had and knocked him on the head again. He fell backwards. I jumped on top of him and hit him again. The flashlight went out after that second hit. I kept hitting him with the light, and just lost all restraint. I must have hit him five times before I regained my senses and got up and backed away. Then I heard the squeak of rusty hinges as a gust of cool damp air rushed up the tunnel.

I ran. It was pitch black but I sprinted down the tunnel and didn’t touch a single wall. I don’t remember the pit or the T, I just remember running. When I got to the entrance of the tunnel, I kept running and tripped over the fallen gate. I fell hard on to one of the bars with my left leg just below my knee and badly scratched up my hands. I got up and limped as fast as I could up the trail without looking back. I noticed there was blood all over my shirt.

I was afraid Ron had left me, but when I got to the water tank, he was sitting in the car with the motor running. He had has his rifle out and was pointing it at me. I yelled to him and when he saw it was me he waived me over. He kept repeating “Let’s go, hurry!”I hobbled over to the car and opened the door.

“What about Nick?” I asked.

I was loading a banana magazine into my rifle. “Screw Nick, let’s go” said Ron.

“We just can’t leave him out here, I think I killed him.”

“Good, lets go.”

Right then Nick came sprinting over the top of the hill. He had blood running down his forehead and he was running full blast right towards us. I jumped in the car and Ron sped off. For a bit Nick was gaining on us, and I leaned out of the window and pointed my rifle at him. Ron was yelling “Shoot him!” But pretty soon he was way behind us. We stopped at the camp site and threw our sleeping bags and stuff into the car. We kept the engine running and our rifles in our hands while we scanned the road behind us. I left one of my canteens for Nick.

When we got to the causeway, Ron told me I looked like hell. I got a towel and tried to clean all the blood off my face. We just kept yelling “What the hell” at each other.

The car died again after we hit I-80, a few miles short of Black Rock. We pulled off to the shoulder. Ron got out of the car to look at the road behind us. He left his rifle in the passenger side of the car. I stayed in the car because my shirt was so bloody. I kept my loaded rifle by my side. I guess if we had seen Nick we would have shot him right there on the interstate. After about an hour the car started and we drove back to Salt Lake.

Later that night I called Nick’s apartment. His roommate answered. I asked if Nick was there and he said sure. I could hear him call “Nick, phone.” After a minute I could hear the phone being picked up, and someone breathing on the line. He didn’t say anything. I hung up.

I hadn’t heard from either of those guys in years, but Ron eventually found my sister through Facebook and he sent me an email. He has been doing well and is now a Mormon Bishop. That got me thinking about Nick. I searched the internet and eventually found an obituary, dated about 12 years after the camping trip. The obituary does not say how he died. I was kind of hoping to ask him what in the hell was going on that day.


It's about 3/4 of the way down on page 15 of Swindle's original creepy thread



Holy shit if this was true!  I'm guessing Nick lead the other two into a trap to kill for a satanic sacrifice?
Link Posted: 9/26/2011 6:14:19 PM EDT
[#23]




Originally Posted By kozaki:





Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:



If someone with access to the archives would be so kind, I (and I'm assuming Krink) would really appreciate it if you could dig this story up. I know someone did once before for me (techgal maybe?).



A few more details about that story that I can remember were the poster was alone, he had a G3 clone (PTR-91?) and a USP with him, and he put at least a few rounds into whatever he encountered, which had no effect.







I'm about 99% sure that was in Swindle's creepy thread.



I'll have a shot at finding it tomorrow, unless somebody else beats me to the punch . . .





Found it!



On page #6 of Swindle's epic thread:
Originally Posted By Ridge_Runner_5:



Originally Posted By Swindle1984:



Thanx for finding this Dusty.



I will re-post my story. I didn't call this thing a "chupacabra", an old Mexican fruit stand worker, field worker called it that after I told him my jeep was chased by a man in the area. he also told me they refused to work late in the area fields because they are not safe at night...they will work other fields in Oxnard and Ventura...but not Camarillo/Point Mugu area.



Just to better describe what my "skin walker" looked like. It was a man. about, 6 foot tall, red eyes, long wavy hair and thick straight haired beard short, but not clean cut, very muscular, pants (like jeans), no shirt..didn't notice the feet. the screams were like a crazy man screaming in anger...can't really describe that...it was loud and pissed off...lol



A buddy and I were driving home late from Point Mugu NWS, taking the back roads to the town of Camarillo.



There is a fork in the road with a mountain in the middle. Just before the mountain and fork there is a old bridge. As we are going over the bridge my buddy points up, (we are in a open top Jeep) about 50 feet up the side of the mountain is a shirtless guy climbing up. We can clearing see him in my brights, long hair and all. I have to slow down for the left fork turn, which is directly under the mountain side.



As I turn, the climber jumps off the mountain side screaming like a madman, he hits the back side of the jeep, but falls out and hits the road. I hit the brakes. I turn around and see him jump up and screaming like some werewolf insane madman, red eyes, hairy and differently not out of shape...he had seen some time in a gym.....I hit the gas and took off.



The "guy" is now chasing after us...(think of the part in Jurassic Park were the T-Rex is chasing the jeep). My buddy is yelling "Holy Fuck...Holy Fuck this guys crazy". I am doing close to 25-30MPH..and the guy is keeping up with me and is next to me grabbing at my seat. My buddy is out of his seat punching the guy..or at least trying to.



At about 45mph the guy can't keep up. We start to laugh and say we should have just stopped and kicked his ass. Then thought he was on PCP or something so we were probably better off not to mess with him, and neither of us wanted to get bitten by a werewolf on PCP.... The red eyes must have been reflections from the brake lights...We both clearly saw those eyes.



About that time, my buddy, points to the fields next to us..on our left....there is the guy running the same direction as we are going. We laugh and I look at the speedometer...55MPH. Wow that's fucking insane I say. Then it hits me....he is running across the field to reach the 90 degree turn before we do...he will get there first and that corner is very tight.



I tell my buddy what I think he's doing. I have taken that turn at 30 in my Nova and lost the back end. I have no idea how fast I can do it in the Jeep. There are no side roads, houses..nothing but a fields.



"Dude, we fight him..stop the fucking car and lets do this"

"Man I really don't want to kill someone...get it. That mother fucker is crazy"

"fuck man, the turn is coming up..we got no weapons, the tire iron is locked behind the spare..we are in Dress Blues uniforms."

"fuck it man, punch it and hope we get there first"



I had the jeep up to 75MPH, then I had to brake hard and I took the turn at 35MPH, the guy was maybe 30 feet behind us...he then just ran back into the field.



We both saw those same red eyes again....



We pulled into the Parking lot of the ventura sheriffs sub-station in Camarillo. We looked at each other and said...no way they are going to believe us.



Couple years later I pulled over at the fruit stand in the same area. I asked the guy if they ever picked strawberries at night..and told him a shorten story about a guy who chased my car. He looked at me without any emotion and said, "You are lucky the chupacabra didn't get you...those red eyes are a bad thing..we do not work these fields at night." I never told the guy about the red eyes....





Maybe because it is close to home, but I honest to god got a chill down my back reading that one...




Link Posted: 9/26/2011 11:21:05 PM EDT
[Last Edit: 6gunfighter2] [#24]
ETA: Too stupid.

Please continue with normal creepy thread in progress.
Link Posted: 9/26/2011 11:25:34 PM EDT
[#25]



Originally Posted By 6winchester2:


Not far from where I live there is a forest that is very remote.  For decades, the locals here have called that forest the "Lost Hiker Woods.”  It seems that

going back for over 100 years, every so often a hiker has gone missing in those woods, never to be found.



SNIP



And that is my story of the "Lost Hiker Woods.”







Link Posted: 9/27/2011 12:30:33 AM EDT
[Last Edit: Sleepy1988] [#26]
Damn, my memory isn't so great.  Techgal did find that story for me, and she posted it in Swindle's thread.  

Here it is.  


All my life till i was 18 i lived in a town called Wells in north eastern Nevada. Small town population of a thousand, so all of my outdoor activities involved being outdoors. From when i was 13-15 i saved up enough to buy an HK91. My dad bought it for me for $2761.44. From then on it went everywhere i did in the woods. When i got my drivers license it meant that i could go roaming about. My 1972 Toyota Landcruiser with a Chevy 350 for the close stuff (it got 5 miles per gallon on a ten gallon tank   ) or my 1972 Dodge W200 with a 36 and 20 gallon tank, so anything outside of line of sight i took the Dodge.

One weekend i decided to explore around the Ruby Marshes, and go into the Ruby Mountains around there, right around old Fort Ruby, a fort that was built in 1860 to serve as an outpost for the pony express etc. I went into the mountains north of it and checked out some pretty cool terrain and old minesites. When i was going down the road i noticed some overgrown tracks that went into a canyon and decided to make it into a nevada highway and follow them. I followed it for about five miles or so and the road got better. It was grated well and continued on except for the fact there was a tree about three feet in diameter blocking the road. Beyond that looked pretty cool so i decided to get out on foot and check it out. After the tree the road went straight about 100 yards then sharply rounded to the right, went about another hundred yards then hooked left going to a mining cabin and a windmill on the top of the ridge. The side after where it hooks right is limestone next to the road with the ridge a constant 100 yards or so from the road.

Because of how i was raised, and my new found fondness for my 91 i went everywhere in the hills on foot armed. I had my 91 slung on my chest and 5 mags in my cheap korean nylon bandolier. My USP 45 my dad bought for me was in the also cheap ACE brand dropleg holster. I parked my Dodge and set out past the tree. As soon as i crossed it it immediately seemed weird. Anyone who has been out in the woods knows that there is always noise. When i parked my truck you could hear the birds singing and cicadas and other bugs buzzing about. As soon as i crossed the tree in the road it was silence. I kept walking up and did not see any bugs or anything moving. As i went up i felt uneasy, as if something was watching me the entire time.

On the way up i noticed most of the pines on the hill were broken off about ten feet up or so and many of the limestone rocks had chunks missing like someone punched a hole in sheetrock. I made it up to the cabin and it was pretty fucked up. Huge holes in the exterior, walls knocked down. Even for its age it was a lil too fucked up. I checked it out and found nothing recent so i went to the windmill. In the windmill there was a hollow shaft going down that was filled with water. I went up the ridge to the shaft and it was intact like it was just ran the day before. Right above it there were four hug piles or rocks making a rectangle where within there were mounts made of rocks. When i passed the pile of rocks the wind kicked up and it got downright cold. I felt like i was being watched so i decided i should leave.

The whole time i was walking back to the truck i felt like something was watching me. Once i got back on the road i kept hearing something follow me on the ridgeline. WHen i moved it moved. I stopped it stopped. I thought i was maybe being imaginative until rocks would slide down from the ridge. As i rounded the bend i heard the steps on the ridge pick up and i decided its time to shoot. Whatever it was had dashed between the cedars to a lonely pine 20 yards in either direction from cover. Fuck that i dumped all twenty rounds from my 91 onto the tree. Anyone who has shot an animal knows the difference between the thump on wood and thwack on an animal. I heard five or so thwacks at the end followed by a blood curdling yell. I dumped the empty mag on the ground and slapped a new one in and ran. I felt like the whole forest was coming down on me, i saw things move from trees from my side vision. I tried to jump across the tree and ate shit and rolled into my bumper. All of the sudden i could hear the birds and bugs. I got back up and looked behind the tree to see something resembling an upright wolf standing about 60 feet from me, behind the fallen tree. Its eyes were red in the daylight and when i looked at it for a moment i knew i should not be there and it said not to come back. I broke out of it and shot the mag in my 91 at it, most which i knew hit made no sound and it just turned towards me. I shot 5 rounds from my USP at it and saw it had no effect. Thats when i decided it was time to leave.

On the way back i made my 3 hour trip in into a 1 hour trip back. Once i got back into town no one believed me. A few weeks later i talked to a friend of mine that was an elder paiute indian and told him of what i had experienced. He asked me of where i went and i told him. He said i went into the sacred burial mounds that the Wendigo guarded.

This was the single most fucked up experience i have ever had. Few i have told of it and i do not care if anyone believes me. All i know is it happened to me and it is what it is. Ill never go back there alone. After he told me it could not be killed and i saw what i did i won't either.

Erick Z
Link Posted: 9/27/2011 9:58:13 PM EDT
[#27]



Originally Posted By kozaki:


Thanx for finding this Dusty.



I will re-post my story. I didn't call this thing a "chupacabra", an old Mexican fruit stand worker, field worker called it that after I told him my jeep was chased by a man in the area. he also told me they refused to work late in the area fields because they are not safe at night...they will work other fields in Oxnard and Ventura...but not Camarillo/Point Mugu area.



Just to better describe what my "skin walker" looked like. It was a man. about, 6 foot tall, red eyes, long wavy hair and thick straight haired beard short, but not clean cut, very muscular, pants (like jeans), no shirt..didn't notice the feet. the screams were like a crazy man screaming in anger...can't really describe that...it was loud and pissed off...lol



A buddy and I were driving home late from Point Mugu NWS, taking the back roads to the town of Camarillo.



There is a fork in the road with a mountain in the middle. Just before the mountain and fork there is a old bridge. As we are going over the bridge my buddy points up, (we are in a open top Jeep) about 50 feet up the side of the mountain is a shirtless guy climbing up. We can clearing see him in my brights, long hair and all. I have to slow down for the left fork turn, which is directly under the mountain side.



As I turn, the climber jumps off the mountain side screaming like a madman, he hits the back side of the jeep, but falls out and hits the road. I hit the brakes. I turn around and see him jump up and screaming like some werewolf insane madman, red eyes, hairy and differently not out of shape...he had seen some time in a gym.....I hit the gas and took off.



The "guy" is now chasing after us...(think of the part in Jurassic Park were the T-Rex is chasing the jeep). My buddy is yelling "Holy Fuck...Holy Fuck this guys crazy". I am doing close to 25-30MPH..and the guy is keeping up with me and is next to me grabbing at my seat. My buddy is out of his seat punching the guy..or at least trying to.



At about 45mph the guy can't keep up. We start to laugh and say we should have just stopped and kicked his ass. Then thought he was on PCP or something so we were probably better off not to mess with him, and neither of us wanted to get bitten by a werewolf on PCP.... The red eyes must have been reflections from the brake lights...We both clearly saw those eyes.



About that time, my buddy, points to the fields next to us..on our left....there is the guy running the same direction as we are going. We laugh and I look at the speedometer...55MPH. Wow that's fucking insane I say. Then it hits me....he is running across the field to reach the 90 degree turn before we do...he will get there first and that corner is very tight.



I tell my buddy what I think he's doing. I have taken that turn at 30 in my Nova and lost the back end. I have no idea how fast I can do it in the Jeep. There are no side roads, houses..nothing but a fields.



"Dude, we fight him..stop the fucking car and lets do this"

"Man I really don't want to kill someone...get it. That mother fucker is crazy"

"fuck man, the turn is coming up..we got no weapons, the tire iron is locked behind the spare..we are in Dress Blues uniforms."

"fuck it man, punch it and hope we get there first"



I had the jeep up to 75MPH, then I had to brake hard and I took the turn at 35MPH, the guy was maybe 30 feet behind us...he then just ran back into the field.



We both saw those same red eyes again....



We pulled into the Parking lot of the ventura sheriffs sub-station in Camarillo. We looked at each other and said...no way they are going to believe us.



Couple years later I pulled over at the fruit stand in the same area. I asked the guy if they ever picked strawberries at night..and told him a shorten story about a guy who chased my car. He looked at me without any emotion and said, "You are lucky the chupacabra didn't get you...those red eyes are a bad thing..we do not work these fields at night." I never told the guy about the red eyes....





Maybe because it is close to home, but I honest to god got a chill down my back reading that one...




Camarillo?  If it was around 83-84 it was probably a Mexican dude named Donny. He used to huff Krylon Gold spray paint and smoke dust. Real loser. Last time I saw him we left his wasted ass out there because he was such a  wasted fcktard..





 
Link Posted: 9/27/2011 10:13:16 PM EDT
[#28]
Originally Posted By 6winchester2:
Not far from where I live there is a forest that is very remote.  For decades, the locals here have called that forest the “Lost Hiker Woods.”  It seems that
going back for over 100 years, every so often a hiker has gone missing in those woods, never to be found.

Well, a few months ago, it happened again, and another hiker had gone missing in the woods.  There was the usual search by police and volunteers, but
as usual they found nothing and gave up after about two weeks.

The other thing about those woods is that there have been reports for many years of a strange creature that lives in the woods.  Those legends go back
to the Shawnee, who had their own name for this creature, but in all particulars the creature fits the description of a modern day Sasquatch.

Well, one day recently I decided to venture into the woods and check things out, to see if I could find any trace of the most recent, missing hiker.  I strapped
on my pistol (a 1911, if you must know), grabbed my digital camera, applied plenty of bug spray, and headed off into the woods.

I started getting the creeps almost as soon as I entered the woods.  I had that feeling like something was watching me.  Those woods are creepy as all hell.  And before
long, I started to see definite signs of the Sasquatch!

The first thing I noticed was that several dead trees and branches had been “arranged” in strange patterns.  That is always a sure sign of “Sasquatchery,” folks.

http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/omega62/BF3.jpg

http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/omega62/BF4.jpg

Then I started to hear strange cries, like distant howling sounds, except these “howls” were unlike any animal I had ever heard before, and I have spent plenty
of time in the woods, so I know what all the more common animals sound like, and many of the not-so-common ones too.

I stopped, wondering if it would be wise to continue deeper into the woods alone.  Swallowing hard, I decided to press on.  After all, who knows, maybe I would
be the one to find that lost hiker.  Who knows, maybe he was still alive, and injured somehow.

A little further on into the woods, after breaking brush for about ten minutes, I came into a small clearing.  Most of the ground was covered with vegetation, but
in one spot there was a patch of bare earth where the soil was pretty soft.  It was there that I saw the footprint, and I knew that I was dealing with a mature, fully
grown ‘Quatch.

http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/omega62/BF1.jpg

http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/omega62/BF2.jpg

For reference, I wear a size 12 shoe, so my feet are not exactly what you would call “small,” folks.  This footprint was fuckin’ gianormous, we’re talking NBA
material here!

The desire to turn back was growing, but manfully, I pressed on, still in hopes that maybe I could find the hiker or his remains.

And then I smelled it, and in a few more paces, I nearly STEPPED in it.

That’s right folks.

Sasquatch shit.

A HUGE pile of it!  Thick with flies.  And I could see undigested pieces of clothing in it – so I guess now I knew what happened to the poor, lost hiker.  Yep, the
Sasquatch ate the motherfucker.  And then he blew a really huge shit.  It was quite nasty.  Yes, I took pictures.  No, I will not post them here.  CoC and all that.

By now, I really wanted to turn back.  But once again, I grimly resolved to press on a little further into the woods.  I knew there was no chance that the hiker was
still alive anymore, but I figured maybe I could find his last camp site, and return some of his effects to his family.

I knew that if I wanted to stay alive, I would have to be as stealthy as possible, so I crept ahead slowly, making as little noise as possible, and hoping to stay
downwind of the ‘Quatch so that I would smell him before he could smell me.  I moved very slowly, and every ten meters or so I stopped, to listen to the woods,
and scan 360 degrees around me, paying particular attention to my six o’clock in case the creature had doubled back on me and was sneaking up on my back trail.

I hadn’t gone fifty meters more when I came across the unmistakeable calling card of the Sasquatch.

There it was.

Right...in...front...of...me.

http://i219.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/omega62/BF6A.jpg

I felt a tightening knot of cold fear in my stomach.  I had overstayed my welcome in these woods, for sure.  It was time to get the fuck out of Dodge, most rikki tik.

Where was the creature now? Surely it must be nearby somewhere!  But perhaps it had gone in search of Michelle Obama in hopes of getting a date, so hopefully
I had at least a little time to get away.

My hand tightened around the grip of my 1911, as I backed away slow, and crept stealthily out of the woods on my back trail, finally clearing the brush just before
nightfall, and returning to my vehicle to head for home.  Whew!

I know now that I will never return to those woods again.

And that is my story of the “Lost Hiker Woods.”




Sweet Jebus! You were tracking my mother in law!
Link Posted: 9/27/2011 10:34:10 PM EDT
[#29]
Tag for later.
Link Posted: 9/28/2011 12:45:57 AM EDT
[#30]




Originally Posted By WildBoar:





Originally Posted By kozaki:





Thanx for finding this Dusty.



I will re-post my story. I didn't call this thing a "chupacabra", an old Mexican fruit stand worker, field worker called it that after I told him my jeep was chased by a man in the area. he also told me they refused to work late in the area fields because they are not safe at night...they will work other fields in Oxnard and Ventura...but not Camarillo/Point Mugu area.



Just to better describe what my "skin walker" looked like. It was a man. about, 6 foot tall, red eyes, long wavy hair and thick straight haired beard short, but not clean cut, very muscular, pants (like jeans), no shirt..didn't notice the feet. the screams were like a crazy man screaming in anger...can't really describe that...it was loud and pissed off...lol



A buddy and I were driving home late from Point Mugu NWS, taking the back roads to the town of Camarillo.



There is a fork in the road with a mountain in the middle. Just before the mountain and fork there is a old bridge. As we are going over the bridge my buddy points up, (we are in a open top Jeep) about 50 feet up the side of the mountain is a shirtless guy climbing up. We can clearing see him in my brights, long hair and all. I have to slow down for the left fork turn, which is directly under the mountain side.



As I turn, the climber jumps off the mountain side screaming like a madman, he hits the back side of the jeep, but falls out and hits the road. I hit the brakes. I turn around and see him jump up and screaming like some werewolf insane madman, red eyes, hairy and differently not out of shape...he had seen some time in a gym.....I hit the gas and took off.



The "guy" is now chasing after us...(think of the part in Jurassic Park were the T-Rex is chasing the jeep). My buddy is yelling "Holy Fuck...Holy Fuck this guys crazy". I am doing close to 25-30MPH..and the guy is keeping up with me and is next to me grabbing at my seat. My buddy is out of his seat punching the guy..or at least trying to.



At about 45mph the guy can't keep up. We start to laugh and say we should have just stopped and kicked his ass. Then thought he was on PCP or something so we were probably better off not to mess with him, and neither of us wanted to get bitten by a werewolf on PCP.... The red eyes must have been reflections from the brake lights...We both clearly saw those eyes.



About that time, my buddy, points to the fields next to us..on our left....there is the guy running the same direction as we are going. We laugh and I look at the speedometer...55MPH. Wow that's fucking insane I say. Then it hits me....he is running across the field to reach the 90 degree turn before we do...he will get there first and that corner is very tight.



I tell my buddy what I think he's doing. I have taken that turn at 30 in my Nova and lost the back end. I have no idea how fast I can do it in the Jeep. There are no side roads, houses..nothing but a fields.



"Dude, we fight him..stop the fucking car and lets do this"

"Man I really don't want to kill someone...get it. That mother fucker is crazy"

"fuck man, the turn is coming up..we got no weapons, the tire iron is locked behind the spare..we are in Dress Blues uniforms."

"fuck it man, punch it and hope we get there first"



I had the jeep up to 75MPH, then I had to brake hard and I took the turn at 35MPH, the guy was maybe 30 feet behind us...he then just ran back into the field.



We both saw those same red eyes again....



We pulled into the Parking lot of the ventura sheriffs sub-station in Camarillo. We looked at each other and said...no way they are going to believe us.



Couple years later I pulled over at the fruit stand in the same area. I asked the guy if they ever picked strawberries at night..and told him a shorten story about a guy who chased my car. He looked at me without any emotion and said, "You are lucky the chupacabra didn't get you...those red eyes are a bad thing..we do not work these fields at night." I never told the guy about the red eyes....





Maybe because it is close to home, but I honest to god got a chill down my back reading that one...






Camarillo? If it was around 83-84 it was probably a Mexican dude named Donny. He used to huff Krylon Gold spray paint and smoke dust. Real loser. Last time I saw him we left his wasted ass out there because he was such a wasted fcktard..







Huffing paint and he managed to run with a jeep doing 55 mph?



That Krylon must be like rocket fuel!



I see now that I posted the wrong story indeed; I thought this red-eyed chaser tale was asked for earlier in the thread.



Sometimes, I need more sleep!

Link Posted: 9/28/2011 12:57:37 AM EDT
[#31]
Originally Posted By kozaki:

Originally Posted By WildBoar:

Originally Posted By kozaki:
Thanx for finding this Dusty.

I will re-post my story. I didn't call this thing a "chupacabra", an old Mexican fruit stand worker, field worker called it that after I told him my jeep was chased by a man in the area. he also told me they refused to work late in the area fields because they are not safe at night...they will work other fields in Oxnard and Ventura...but not Camarillo/Point Mugu area.

Just to better describe what my "skin walker" looked like. It was a man. about, 6 foot tall, red eyes, long wavy hair and thick straight haired beard short, but not clean cut, very muscular, pants (like jeans), no shirt..didn't notice the feet. the screams were like a crazy man screaming in anger...can't really describe that...it was loud and pissed off...lol

A buddy and I were driving home late from Point Mugu NWS, taking the back roads to the town of Camarillo.

There is a fork in the road with a mountain in the middle. Just before the mountain and fork there is a old bridge. As we are going over the bridge my buddy points up, (we are in a open top Jeep) about 50 feet up the side of the mountain is a shirtless guy climbing up. We can clearing see him in my brights, long hair and all. I have to slow down for the left fork turn, which is directly under the mountain side.

As I turn, the climber jumps off the mountain side screaming like a madman, he hits the back side of the jeep, but falls out and hits the road. I hit the brakes. I turn around and see him jump up and screaming like some werewolf insane madman, red eyes, hairy and differently not out of shape...he had seen some time in a gym.....I hit the gas and took off.

The "guy" is now chasing after us...(think of the part in Jurassic Park were the T-Rex is chasing the jeep). My buddy is yelling "Holy Fuck...Holy Fuck this guys crazy". I am doing close to 25-30MPH..and the guy is keeping up with me and is next to me grabbing at my seat. My buddy is out of his seat punching the guy..or at least trying to.

At about 45mph the guy can't keep up. We start to laugh and say we should have just stopped and kicked his ass. Then thought he was on PCP or something so we were probably better off not to mess with him, and neither of us wanted to get bitten by a werewolf on PCP.... The red eyes must have been reflections from the brake lights...We both clearly saw those eyes.

About that time, my buddy, points to the fields next to us..on our left....there is the guy running the same direction as we are going. We laugh and I look at the speedometer...55MPH. Wow that's fucking insane I say. Then it hits me....he is running across the field to reach the 90 degree turn before we do...he will get there first and that corner is very tight.

I tell my buddy what I think he's doing. I have taken that turn at 30 in my Nova and lost the back end. I have no idea how fast I can do it in the Jeep. There are no side roads, houses..nothing but a fields.

"Dude, we fight him..stop the fucking car and lets do this"
"Man I really don't want to kill someone...get it. That mother fucker is crazy"
"fuck man, the turn is coming up..we got no weapons, the tire iron is locked behind the spare..we are in Dress Blues uniforms."
"fuck it man, punch it and hope we get there first"

I had the jeep up to 75MPH, then I had to brake hard and I took the turn at 35MPH, the guy was maybe 30 feet behind us...he then just ran back into the field.

We both saw those same red eyes again....

We pulled into the Parking lot of the ventura sheriffs sub-station in Camarillo. We looked at each other and said...no way they are going to believe us.

Couple years later I pulled over at the fruit stand in the same area. I asked the guy if they ever picked strawberries at night..and told him a shorten story about a guy who chased my car. He looked at me without any emotion and said, "You are lucky the chupacabra didn't get you...those red eyes are a bad thing..we do not work these fields at night." I never told the guy about the red eyes....


Maybe because it is close to home, but I honest to god got a chill down my back reading that one...







Camarillo? If it was around 83-84 it was probably a Mexican dude named Donny. He used to huff Krylon Gold spray paint and smoke dust. Real loser. Last time I saw him we left his wasted ass out there because he was such a wasted fcktard..



Huffing paint and he managed to run with a jeep doing 55 mph?

That Krylon must be like rocket fuel!

I see now that I posted the wrong story indeed; I thought this red-eyed chaser tale was asked for earlier in the thread.

Sometimes, I need more sleep!


It was.  I asked for it.  Thanks.
Link Posted: 9/28/2011 2:22:08 AM EDT
[#32]
This kind of creeped me out, I've no idea what it's supposed to mean.

End cat.
Link Posted: 9/28/2011 9:01:44 AM EDT
[#33]



Originally Posted By kozaki:





Huffing paint and he managed to run with a jeep doing 55 mph?



That Krylon must be like rocket fuel!



I see now that I posted the wrong story indeed; I thought this red-eyed chaser tale was asked for earlier in the thread.



Sometimes, I need more sleep!

Were you the original author of the story? Just wondering.  



Still a cool story and I am glad you posted it. It brought back memories of the area and Donny the paint huffing angel dust smoker.    Good times.





 
Link Posted: 9/28/2011 10:53:54 PM EDT
[#34]




Originally Posted By Sleepy1988:



Originally Posted By kozaki:





Originally Posted By WildBoar:





Originally Posted By kozaki:





Thanx for finding this Dusty.



I will re-post my story. I didn't call this thing a "chupacabra", an old Mexican fruit stand worker, field worker called it that after I told him my jeep was chased by a man in the area. he also told me they refused to work late in the area fields because they are not safe at night...they will work other fields in Oxnard and Ventura...but not Camarillo/Point Mugu area.



Just to better describe what my "skin walker" looked like. It was a man. about, 6 foot tall, red eyes, long wavy hair and thick straight haired beard short, but not clean cut, very muscular, pants (like jeans), no shirt..didn't notice the feet. the screams were like a crazy man screaming in anger...can't really describe that...it was loud and pissed off...lol



A buddy and I were driving home late from Point Mugu NWS, taking the back roads to the town of Camarillo.



There is a fork in the road with a mountain in the middle. Just before the mountain and fork there is a old bridge. As we are going over the bridge my buddy points up, (we are in a open top Jeep) about 50 feet up the side of the mountain is a shirtless guy climbing up. We can clearing see him in my brights, long hair and all. I have to slow down for the left fork turn, which is directly under the mountain side.



As I turn, the climber jumps off the mountain side screaming like a madman, he hits the back side of the jeep, but falls out and hits the road. I hit the brakes. I turn around and see him jump up and screaming like some werewolf insane madman, red eyes, hairy and differently not out of shape...he had seen some time in a gym.....I hit the gas and took off.



The "guy" is now chasing after us...(think of the part in Jurassic Park were the T-Rex is chasing the jeep). My buddy is yelling "Holy Fuck...Holy Fuck this guys crazy". I am doing close to 25-30MPH..and the guy is keeping up with me and is next to me grabbing at my seat. My buddy is out of his seat punching the guy..or at least trying to.



At about 45mph the guy can't keep up. We start to laugh and say we should have just stopped and kicked his ass. Then thought he was on PCP or something so we were probably better off not to mess with him, and neither of us wanted to get bitten by a werewolf on PCP.... The red eyes must have been reflections from the brake lights...We both clearly saw those eyes.



About that time, my buddy, points to the fields next to us..on our left....there is the guy running the same direction as we are going. We laugh and I look at the speedometer...55MPH. Wow that's fucking insane I say. Then it hits me....he is running across the field to reach the 90 degree turn before we do...he will get there first and that corner is very tight.



I tell my buddy what I think he's doing. I have taken that turn at 30 in my Nova and lost the back end. I have no idea how fast I can do it in the Jeep. There are no side roads, houses..nothing but a fields.



"Dude, we fight him..stop the fucking car and lets do this"

"Man I really don't want to kill someone...get it. That mother fucker is crazy"

"fuck man, the turn is coming up..we got no weapons, the tire iron is locked behind the spare..we are in Dress Blues uniforms."

"fuck it man, punch it and hope we get there first"



I had the jeep up to 75MPH, then I had to brake hard and I took the turn at 35MPH, the guy was maybe 30 feet behind us...he then just ran back into the field.



We both saw those same red eyes again....



We pulled into the Parking lot of the ventura sheriffs sub-station in Camarillo. We looked at each other and said...no way they are going to believe us.



Couple years later I pulled over at the fruit stand in the same area. I asked the guy if they ever picked strawberries at night..and told him a shorten story about a guy who chased my car. He looked at me without any emotion and said, "You are lucky the chupacabra didn't get you...those red eyes are a bad thing..we do not work these fields at night." I never told the guy about the red eyes....





Maybe because it is close to home, but I honest to god got a chill down my back reading that one...






Camarillo? If it was around 83-84 it was probably a Mexican dude named Donny. He used to huff Krylon Gold spray paint and smoke dust. Real loser. Last time I saw him we left his wasted ass out there because he was such a wasted fcktard..







Huffing paint and he managed to run with a jeep doing 55 mph?



That Krylon must be like rocket fuel!



I see now that I posted the wrong story indeed; I thought this red-eyed chaser tale was asked for earlier in the thread.



Sometimes, I need more sleep!





It was. I asked for it. Thanks.







Oh, you're very welcome!



Glad I wasn't hallucinating, LOL!!



Link Posted: 9/28/2011 10:57:45 PM EDT
[#35]




Originally Posted By WildBoar:





Originally Posted By kozaki:





Huffing paint and he managed to run with a jeep doing 55 mph?



That Krylon must be like rocket fuel!



I see now that I posted the wrong story indeed; I thought this red-eyed chaser tale was asked for earlier in the thread.



Sometimes, I need more sleep!



Were you the original author of the story? Just wondering.



Still a cool story and I am glad you posted it. It brought back memories of the area and Donny the paint huffing angel dust smoker. Good times.







Oh, no, I wasn't the author; that one dates to long before my time here.



It is a pretty spooky tale, laid down in a matter-of-fact way . . .



Glad you enjoyed it, for whatever reason!



Link Posted: 9/28/2011 11:10:35 PM EDT
[Last Edit: Echd] [#36]
Not a story to contribute, but a few folks might get a kick out of this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q29CmMHSQ3M
Link Posted: 9/29/2011 12:03:57 AM EDT
[#37]
Originally Posted By Redarts:
Not a story to contribute, but a few folks might get a kick out of this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q29CmMHSQ3M


Here, let me help
Link Posted: 9/29/2011 4:27:22 PM EDT
[#38]

If you like the stuff in this thread you should check the sci fi channel show Paranormal witness. Its pretty good stuff similar to the storys here.

http://www.syfy.com/paranormalwitness/
Link Posted: 9/29/2011 9:26:01 PM EDT
[#39]
Thanks kozaki , Sleepy1988
good stuff! dont know if I will ever go out shooting by myself again though
Link Posted: 9/29/2011 9:38:02 PM EDT
[#40]




Originally Posted By Krink:



Thanks kozaki , Sleepy1988

good stuff! dont know if I will ever go out shooting by myself again though







I must say, having one's personal firearm would be a great comfort during a creepy encounter.



After all, to quote a famous movie line, If it bleeds, we can kill it!

Link Posted: 9/30/2011 1:03:58 AM EDT
[#41]
As I sit here listening to the coyotes howl outside my window, I'm reminded of an incident that happened to me some time ago.  Not necessarily scary or creepy, but it still raised a few hairs ....





Do you guys remember that episode of the Simpsons where Ned Flanders does his "fog walk"?  Well, I used to do something similar out on our farm on foggy nights if the surrounding fields were suitable for walking in zero visibility, aka freshly tilled, preferably hard frozen ground.  I would usually walk in some random direction for a mile or two just to test my abilities to find my way back only by the feel of the contours of the land - no compass, no flashlight ...... and no, I was never armed back then.



Well, this one night I'm out there to the west of the farm about a mile or so, thick fog, no corresponding moonlight or anything, just the typical latent gloomy light one attributes to fog.  I couldn't even see my shoes, but I wasn't worried about bumping into any kind of object since this is strictly wheat growing country - no fences or fence posts, no ponds or fens ..... the worst that could happen would be if I walked into a roadside ditch.



So I'm out there, and I stop for a while just to soak in the silence and test my eyesight.  I'm just standing there for about a minute, when off in the distance I hear the sound of a small animal trotting toward my direction.  It's definitely coming toward me, then it stops ...... probably a deer, maybe a fawn ..... so I try and entice it to come closer to me by making a clucking sound like one would make to a chipmunk.  It starts up toward me again, but this time it's no longer trotting, it's in a full on gallop toward me!  Holy crap!  Now I'm thinking maybe a coyote, although my paranoid side suggests maybe a wolf or something worse ...  



At this point my hair is standing on end as the thing gets closer, and out of the deepest darkest recesses of my inner being I let out a throaty gutteral shouting growl and turn to brace myself for whatever it is.  As I stop to listen again, I can still hear the creature running, but this time it is definitely running away from me ....



Turnabout is fair play here in ARFcom creepy thread, because whatever it was, I scared the hell out of it.  Jeez, with that growl I even scared the hell out of me!
Link Posted: 10/5/2011 12:21:26 AM EDT
[#42]



Originally Posted By Spartacus:



Originally Posted By spartacus2002:


Originally Posted By TheRedGoat:


Originally Posted By Spartacus:


Originally Posted By Storm6436:


Originally Posted By brass:


Originally Posted By wintermute:

While standing there, gazing up, I hear a very clear, very close exhale. Not like a normal letting your breath out, more like a sigh. A long slow sigh that sounded like the long A vowel sound... I could have sworn it was someone saying my name.





Your parents named you "Ahhhhhh"???




Perhaps they were dictating?




OOOOOOOOOOOOO!




"Posts Per Day:

0.04"



Slow down there, post whore.



TRG




cut him some slack, didn't he just die recently?

http://www.ar15.com/forums/t_1_5/1229314_Spartacus_is_dead_.html




I got better.





Now that is creepy. You're not starting to crave brains, are you?



 
Link Posted: 10/5/2011 1:04:51 AM EDT
[#43]
It's a dark and stormy night in Northern California.  Let's hear some stories!
Link Posted: 10/5/2011 7:34:50 PM EDT
[#44]
Originally Posted By Gunfighter0313:
When I got out of the Marines a couple years ago, I met up with an old highschool friend I hadn't seen in ages.  We went out for drinks and she was asking me what iraq was like and such, and I asked her what college was like in Orange County.  She tells me the normal stuff and then tells me this story and to this day it still kinda freaks me out to think about.

She went to Chapman and up until this incident she used to babysit for a family friend down there.  Younger couple, but affluent.  Nice neighborhood and younger kids.  I remember her saying they were 2 and 4 at the time, but I might be off a tad.  On the night in question my friend was babysitting as usual and put them to bed around 9pm and went downstairs to watch TV and study.  The parents were also art collectors and had a lot of odd pieces around, namely one of those lifesize clown statues that looks real-ish sitting in a kids chair.  She said she was weirded out by it but didnt think much of it, as rich people buy weird shit.  But the longer she sat there the more of an odd feeling it gave her, so being much more brave than I, went and took a look at it.  It was apparently very realistic, and she stared at it for a while but it still freaked her out, so she called the mother and asked if she could move the clown statue into another room, or closet preferably.  The mother sounded confused for a moment then very alarmed and told my friend to get the kids and get across the street to the neighbors house, and that they were coming back immediately.  So she woke the kids and got them out of the house to the neighbors, confused.  Soon after police cars showed up and started searching around the house.  The parents arrived soon after and came to the neighbors house and gave my friend an explanation.

Apparently the older kid had been coming to breakfast every couple mornings for the past couple weeks saying that a clown had come to visit him again.  They just thought it was imagination or dreams and such and didn't think much of it.  Until my friend called and the mother realized that they don't own a clown statue.  Soon after the police came back and reported that they had arrested a man in a clown outfit several blocks away.  He turned out to be a mental patient that had escaped from a hospital a ways away.  A search of the house showed that he was living in the houses basement that was under renovation and the family rarely used.  

The part that bothered me the most, was that she stared at the fucking thing and he didn't blink or move.  I would have shit bricks after hearing that.


I wonder what would have happened if she had approached him/it with the fireplace poker or a baseball bat raised and ready to smash into his/its head?
Link Posted: 10/5/2011 7:52:24 PM EDT
[#45]














Link Posted: 10/6/2011 12:19:09 AM EDT
[#46]
Bump in the night...
Link Posted: 10/6/2011 12:40:57 AM EDT
[#47]
Originally Posted By MrMojoRising:
What's that from?  













http://forgifs.com/gallery/d/171665-3/Zombies_001.gif


Link Posted: 10/6/2011 1:41:38 AM EDT
[#48]
I think I told a few of my "experiences" here before.  This is only one of a few "experiences" I've had at this house AND surrounding land..  The house apparently has a few different spirits/ghosts.

From 1983 to 1987, our family spent the summers at my Grandparents farmhouse in Northern Ireland.  The house was built in 1878 and sits on 600 acres.

This house had four bedrooms upstairs.  All of them were huge, to me anyway.  Two were about 20'X35'.  My whole family slept in one of these large bedrooms, it had five beds in it.  At the back of the bedroom was another room about 5'X10'. At the time was used to store some boxes.  Our first summer at the house;  

This is a farmhouse, with no street lights outside, so when grandfather said "lights out", it was pitch dark.  You could not see a hand in front of you.  One night, we were all sleeping.  I wake up, because I had to do number one.  I stayed in bed, hoping I would just fall asleep, because there was no plumbing in the house.  You had to go to the outhouse to use the bathroom.  So, I was trying to avoid that.  While I'm laying in bed, I hear footsteps on the old wood floor.  Some of the footsteps would make the floor squeak.  Then it would stop.  Shortly later, I hear the door, leading to that small room in the back of the bedroom, open. It had a very distinct noise when it opened or closed.  Right after I hear the door open, I hear the footsteps again.  They sound like they are getting closer to me.  I was in the bed furthest away from that small room.  The footsteps stop.  I don't know how, but I fell asleep.  

I wake up the next morning and told my mother what happened.  She said I was dreaming and not to worry about it.  Later that day, I'm walking past the kitchen and I over hear my mother telling my grandfather what I had said.  They both see me and stop talking.

Time for bed again.  Once again, I wake up.  I hear the exact same thing again.  The back door opens, and footsteps walk towards me.  This time, they walked back towards that small room and I hear the door open and close again.  This happened three times.  The forth time, I hear the door open, I hear the footsteps and then they seem to stop at my bed.  I then feel my bed move, as if someone sat on the edge of it.  I feel my blanket tighten on my feet.  At this point, I'am petrified.  A few seconds later, I feel the bed move, my blanket loosens up around my feet,  I hear the footsteps and then the door open and close.   I then dove for the light switch, breaking my toe on the edge of the bed footboard, thereby waking the whole house up.

It was not until later that day that my grandfather explained something to me.   Apparently, I had an uncle that died of an aneurysm at the age of ten.  My grandfather explained that I was not the only one that has heard the footsteps and door opening.  He said it happens a lot and that the family believes it is my uncle and he means no harm.  His bed sat in the same spot as the bed I was sleeping in.  That small room in the back of the bedroom was his playroom.  So, my mother knew all about it, before I even told here.  She use to hear it when she was a child.

Here is a pic of the house.  The bedroom is on the second floor, on the right hand corner.  You can see on the first floor, there is a room, above it is just a flat roof.  There was once a room where the flat roof is, but they knocked it down because of some violent paranormal stuff that went on in there.  In March of 1919, the IRA stormed the house and killed one adult and one child in that room.  That was under the previous owner.




Link Posted: 10/6/2011 2:04:02 AM EDT
[#49]
Originally Posted By palmer:
I think I told a few of my "experiences" here before.  This is only one of a few "experiences" I've had at this house AND surrounding land..  The house apparently has a few different spirits/ghosts.

From 1983 to 1987, our family spent the summers at my Grandparents farmhouse in Northern Ireland.  The house was built in 1878 and sits on 600 acres.

This house had four bedrooms upstairs.  All of them were huge, to me anyway.  Two were about 20'X35'.  My whole family slept in one of these large bedrooms, it had five beds in it.  At the back of the bedroom was another room about 5'X10'. At the time was used to store some boxes.  Our first summer at the house;  

This is a farmhouse, with no street lights outside, so when grandfather said "lights out", it was pitch dark.  You could not see a hand in front of you.  One night, we were all sleeping.  I wake up, because I had to do number one.  I stayed in bed, hoping I would just fall asleep, because there was no plumbing in the house.  You had to go to the outhouse to use the bathroom.  So, I was trying to avoid that.  While I'm laying in bed, I hear footsteps on the old wood floor.  Some of the footsteps would make the floor squeak.  Then it would stop.  Shortly later, I hear the door, leading to that small room in the back of the bedroom, open. It had a very distinct noise when it opened or closed.  Right after I hear the door open, I hear the footsteps again.  They sound like they are getting closer to me.  I was in the bed furthest away from that small room.  The footsteps stop.  I don't know how, but I fell asleep.  

I wake up the next morning and told my mother what happened.  She said I was dreaming and not to worry about it.  Later that day, I'm walking past the kitchen and I over hear my mother telling my grandfather what I had said.  They both see me and stop talking.

Time for bed again.  Once again, I wake up.  I hear the exact same thing again.  The back door opens, and footsteps walk towards me.  This time, they walked back towards that small room and I hear the door open and close again.  This happened three times.  The forth time, I hear the door open, I hear the footsteps and then they seem to stop at my bed.  I then feel my bed move, as if someone sat on the edge of it.  I feel my blanket tighten on my feet.  At this point, I'am petrified.  A few seconds later, I feel the bed move, my blanket loosens up around my feet,  I hear the footsteps and then the door open and close.   I then dove for the light switch, breaking my toe on the edge of the bed footboard, thereby waking the whole house up.

It was not until later that day that my grandfather explained something to me.   Apparently, I had an uncle that died of an aneurysm at the age of ten.  My grandfather explained that I was not the only one that has heard the footsteps and door opening.  He said it happens a lot and that the family believes it is my uncle and he means no harm.  His bed sat in the same spot as the bed I was sleeping in.  That small room in the back of the bedroom was his playroom.  So, my mother knew all about it, before I even told here.  She use to hear it when she was a child.

Here is a pic of the house.  The bedroom is on the second floor, on the right hand corner.  You can see on the first floor, there is a room, above it is just a flat roof.  There was once a room where the flat roof is, but they knocked it down because of some violent paranormal stuff that went on in there.  In March of 1919, the IRA stormed the house and killed one adult and one child in that room.  That was under the previous owner.



http://i51.tinypic.com/14bebn.jpg


Do you have any idea on the specifics of what happened there?  Would you feel comfortable sharing that info if you have it?
Link Posted: 10/6/2011 3:15:24 AM EDT
[#50]
Originally Posted By EasTexan:
Bump in the night...


What?
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