Experiences from England

by m.lacher@sussex.ac.uk

Most of your stories seem to be from people in the States. This is one

from someone living in England.

Apparently I am someone that 'stirs' up spirits where-ever I go. I

bought a house in Brighton in Sussex, built in 1877. It had been owned

by the policeman who bought it from new and then his spinster daughter

who died in it. It was in a dreadful state and took three months to get

one room, the kitchen and bathroom habitable. We moved in and spent

another six months getting the rest of the house together. My husband

restores old buildings, making them as they were originally. We even

took all the old paint and wallpaper off the walls and framed a section

of the original William Morris wallpaper which had been varnished - they

did that in Victorian society in order to preserve the wallpaper.

Well, once we had furnished the place we settled back to enjoy it and

then some odd things started to happen. When we had moved in a beautiful

tabby cat had moved in with us - we don't know where she came from but

she was a wonderful creature. One night I woke up very suddenly totally

witless with fright. My side of the bed was surrounded with freezing

cold air. I lay unable to do anything but I reached out for my cat who

slept on the bed and the freezing air started to warm up and my terror

subsided. After that, I acquired four more cats - all strays who came in

through the cat flap and wouldn't go away - and we would be sitting in

front of the TV and suddenly all five cat heads would turn and stare

intently at one place in the room and then all turn away again at the

same time. I had plants hanging from the ceiling in macrame holders and

sometimes they would sway violently as if someone was brushing very hard

against them. A friend came to visit for the evening, went up to the

bathroom during the course of the evening and then came rushing down,

grabbed his girlfriend by the arm and rushed out. He said he had seen a

ghost on the landing upstairs and he wasn't staying another minute.

Another night we were sitting in front of the TV with a cup of coffee

each on the coffee table and something/somebody knocked very hard on it


I do know that the old spinster, whose name was Grace Berry, had died in

the house. Perhaps she liked having the house restored and made

beautiful again and was trying to tell us she liked it that way with

animals in it, as she had had a dog.

Another time I was at Hampton Court with my husband. In case it helps I

will tell you that Hampton Court was 'acquired' by Henry VIII of England

from one of his cardinals, whom he felt was getting a bit too wealthy and

powerful. Anyway, Henry had just got rid of his first wife and was in

the process of acquiring his second one when he got Hampton Court. Henry

was a man driven by his own needs and invented a conscience in order to

placate his own sense of right and wrong. He knew he was wrong in

divorcing his first wife but his conscience said it was OK because he

needed a male heir and so he went ahead and married Anne Boleyn but she

gave him trouble so he had her beheaded and married Jane Seymour who died

in childbirth so he married Anne of Cleves whom he thought was very ugly

(he called her the Flanders Mare) so he decided to marry to please

himself and married an 18 year old girl called Catherine Howard. The

enemies of the family of Howard cooked up some schemes to make Henry

think that Catherine was playing him false and so he had her beheaded. I

am sorry about all this history lesson but I had to tell you so that what

happened to me makes sense.

My husband and I were walking along a corridor. We were the only people

there at that time. I was looking out of a window down on a cookhouse in

the courtyard - my husband was about 12 feet away. I felt a hard rap on

the top of head and I looked at him and said 'What did you do that for?'

He was still standing 12 feet away examining a painting. 'Do what?' he

said. It was quite apparent he had not hit me on the head. We walked

down the corridor and round the corner and came across a guide. My

husband told him what had happened. The guide said 'I'm not surprised.

Catherine Howard ran down that corridor screaming to Henry VIII not to

let her be beheaded as he was praying in this chapel just here. She

tries to attract people's attention occasionally.' I was that people on

that occasion.

I moved to a new house 25 miles away from Brighton. It is in the middle

of undisturbed countryside down a private lane and was built in 1870.

One evening I was washing dishes and saw a very thin tall old man dressed

in black walk through the wall next to the front door at an oblique

angle. After that, I saw him quite a few times walking in and out where

there is now a wall, but where there was once the back door to the house.

Then I started to see an old lady who looks a tiny bit like Grandma out

of the Waltons, only taller and with whiter hair. She keeps walking

through the fence towards some old outhouses that used to be toilets.

There is a corner in our lounge room that is permanently freezing cold,

even if we have the central heating on and a fire going (we have a huge

ingle nook fireplace that about six people could sit in) but it doesn't

matter how warm the room is, that bit stays cold.

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My Freaky Grandmother Story

by trouble@gettysburg.edu

My grandmother used to stay in the bedroom right next to mine, and our

rooms are connected by a door. This door does not open because the knob

on my grandmother's side was broken off somehow, so there is only a

small hole there. Well, in 1990 my grandmother's health began to decline

rapidly, and she began to get delusional as well. Often she would speak

to apparitions that she saw on the ceiling. Once, I heard her speaking

to "Rose," who was new on her list of guests. It's strange that we

received word only a few days later that Rose had just died. Anyway, one

day my grandmother told me that she didn't feel like living anymore, and

like the stubborn old Italian she was, I found her dead the next


Months passed. The bedroom next to mine, previously my grandmother's,

was now a storage space of sorts. No one ever went in there, really, and

even if they did, they probably wouldn't be able to reach the door that

connects to my room without moving alot of furniture and making alot of

noise. Well, one night at about three in the morning I was talking to my

friend on the phone, and I was sitting on the floor, right in front of

that door that connects the two bedrooms. I began to hear scratching

coming from the other side at the base of the door. Let me tell you, I

was so scared I could not breathe. In whispers I told my friend what was

happening. She believed me, but over the course of an hour, as the

scratching moved up the door and got louder and louder, my friend fell

asleep (I was not speaking at all but I wouldn't hang up). At one point,

at around four in the morning, as I sat frozen and staring at the door,

my doorknob began to rattle and then shake loudly, the door started to

bang and shake, and the scratching ran nearly the length of the bottom

half of the door. My friend woke up and started freaking out because the

noises coming through the phone were so loud that they woke her up.

The noises eventually migrated to other areas of the room, banging

things about, and then they subsided.

Have I mentioned that the only other person in the house that night was

my father, who was sleeping soundly? Very, very eerie.

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Two Planes of Existence

by jerryni@ix.netcom.com

This is a true story. This is not fiction in any form or fashion.

I am a very normal person. I am 42 years old with a very loving wife

and two wonderful daughters who are six and eighteen months.

We built our home in 1989. After a couple of years, and when my oldest

daughter was two, we noticed that she was seeing people that we could

not see. I remember we drove in our basement and on the way up the

stairs, Lauren was standing at the foot of the steps waiving. My wife

asked her who she was waiving at and she told my wife pointing towards

the wall, that woman standing over there. We dismissed the idea by

assuming she had a vivid imagination. A couple of years later, I was

up late on Christmas Eve playing Santa putting a doll house together. I

had locked myself in the guest bedroom in fear of my daughter waking up.

The doornob rattled. I looked at it and it moved back and forth.

Someone was trying to open it. I knew it must be my daughter so I

quickly turned off the lights and waited a few moments and then opened

the door. As I walked out the door, I felt a very cold spot. I checked

on my wife and daughter and they were asleep. I had no explanation for


It has been three years since that Christmas Eve. So now here is the

current events. My oldest started the first grade this year. The night

before her first day back to school, we went to bed together

at 9:30 in the evening. About an hour later after we had drifted off to

sleep, my wife ran in the room and asked if I had gone outside. I said

no. She said she heard the front door slam. I heard nothing, but of

course I was asleep. I went back to sleep and at 11:30 she came in and

woke me up and said it slammed again. I thought she was hearing things.

The next night she woke up having a bad dream of someone chasing her and

she had cut her arm. She raised out of bed into a sitting position and

in fromt of the foot of her bed a "glowing ball of embers" as she

described it was hovering and rotating emitting a beam of light towards

her similiar to a beam from a flashlight except red. She ran in my room

and told me. I thought she was really going crazy. The next couple of

days she was awakened by the doornob rattling. And the next night as she

lay in bed falling asleep, she heard three hard knocks on the bedside

table. She was too afraid to look over to see what it was. By this

time, I thought she was really loosing it. The next night, I was down

in our basement working out. I heard childrens footsteps. I thought it

was my daughter coming down to play while I was down there. I was lying

on the bench press with weights on top of me. I raised my head up, and

I saw a girl, and as she passed by I could see wrinkles on her face. It

was as if she had turned old in midstride. I sat the weights back on

the bar and raised up but noone was there. We hired a "Trans-channeler"

to come and rid our house of these spirits. She spent about three ours

in our basement. She talked to the girl. She said she was sent as a

messenger to help some spirits cross over into the next plane of

reality, and there were children involved. She said she could not

elaborate, but she had moved several spirits across to the next plane.

She also said the woman the longer she looked at her turned younger and

more beautiful. She gave my wife and my daughter a crystal rock, and

some sage to burn.

Everything was quiet for a few weeks. Now we have a thin man who

breathes heavily in our house. Please can anyone give us information as

to how to deal with this.

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The Night Grandmother Died

by rosalie@globalreach.net

The night my Grandmother died. In retrospect my family has always had

some sort of "psychic" experience. Family members would often know

important information that was not yet told to them. We were the first

to be at a friends side when some tragedy struck. I guess you could say

that as a whole we were very empathetic. The night my grandmother died

was to be the exception, no feelings were involved but actual sights and

sounds were. My aunt who lived next door to us at the time, awoke at

about 2;15 a.m. on the morning she died. She was hearing sounds from her

living room, sounds she could only describe as shuffling footsteps, and

they were heavy. My grandmother in life had weighed close to 300 lbs.

and had problems with her knees since she was about 40. Another aunt

living in New Orleans at the time, awoke from a nightmare at 2:15 a.m.

to the sight of my Grandfathers casket(who died 5 years earlier) sitting

in her hallway. When she went to wake up my Uncle the "vision" slowly

dissapeared.Every other of my Grandmothers 9 children except my mother

had some sort of bad feeling or nightmare or vision affect them that

night, and all of those woke from a sound sleep at 2:15a.m. the morning

of August 17, 1981. My mother however was not unaffected. 3 years

later, on August 17, 1984 my mother entered the hospital with a head

injury from slipping on a wet floor. The doctor ordered a sleeping aid

to help her relax. My mother was afraid to go to sleep, fearing that

she would never wake up. The apparition of my grandmother appeared to

her, comforting her and holding her hand. My mom said it was the

greatest feeling of peace and content she has ever known. The nurses

notes on my mother from that morning says she finally went to sleep, at

2:15 a.m.

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Toy Store Ranch Hand

by danberger.david@centigram.com

I am a local resident of the "Silicon Valley" here

in the south end of the San Francisco bay area,

where everything is high tech and obsolete after 6

months of life. I was born and raised here, and I

am a design engineer. Everything has some

level of logic attached to it, or else it doesnt

exist. Except this.........

One night about 10 years ago I was driving home

from a friend's house at about 3am, on the El

Camino Real, a very busy street, 3 lanes going

either direction, retail businesses stacked

together on both sides for many miles on end. At

3am there's not too many people out, in fact it was

very quiet, but very well lit. Approaching an

intersection, I noticed a man dressed up as a

cowboy, with his foot up on a bus stop bench,

leaning into it very naturally. The light changed,

I drove past him and his eyes caught mine from

about 50-100 feet away. As I drove past, his gaze

kept up, as if he was staring straight through my

eyes, so intense that that image is still burned as

bright as day in my memory, as if it was last

night. I turned back a few times, and his gaze

never left my eyes. I remember saying to myself,

out loud, "Dude, there isnt gonna be a bus. Its

3am!" There's a lot of people around here that

dress like cowboys. (I really dont know why, there

are no cows around here) Only difference was this

guy had a full beard, the kind that goes all the

way down your neck, as if he hadnt shaved in many

years. He also had the type of jeans on that are

tight in the knees and loose around the boots.

Definitely NOT the local "cowboy style".

Well a couple years later there was an article in

the local newspaper about haunted buildings in

California. One of them was listed as a big toy

store here in the south bay. The toy store

supposedly has a resident poultergeist that all the

employees supposedly acknowledge is absolutely

there. Yeah right. Good publicity. I had never

heard of this before, and I didnt believe it. Im an

engineer. Everything is logical.

A local psychic, Sylvia Brown, had done a seance in

this toy store and had taken many pictures, regular

and infra-red. A couple of the photos supposedly

had images. I saw them.

When I saw one of the images, I was floored. It

looked exactly like the guy I saw that night. An

image of a cowboy leaning against a toy store

shelfing unit, one foot propped up to the side,

casually observing the group of people in the

store. Full beard, cowboy hat, jeans tight around

the knees. And then I remembered something.... the

bus stop is right in front of the toy store.

History records that a ranch hand had died

approximately where the store is built in the

1800s. He was sharpening an axe, cut his leg real

bad and bled to death near that spot. Hmm. I dont

know. But I do remember that guy. As clear as day.

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Ghost of Okinawa, Japan

by curtisc@kic.or.jp

Hello, and thanxs for the opertunity to be able to submit some of the

stories of Okinawa.

I have so mnay stories about Okinawa, i don't know where to begin. I guess

I will start with some history of the Ryukyu Island Chain. First Okinawa

Island is a few hundred miles from the island of Taiwan and Japan mainland.

It is located in the far west Pacfic Ocean at 26 degrees north and and 127

degrees east. This was one of the largest battle sites during World War II.

It was once and island country unto itself but has been fought over for

centuries by Japan and China. It was captured near the end of the war by US

forces. It remained a US property for many years until the late 70's

inwhich it was returned to Japan as a show of good faith. Many stories I am

about to tell concern after World War II.

A Protective Mother.

Many years ago, as the story goes, a middle age man lived down by the

China Sea, in an area the US military calls the Gate Four Area. This man

owned a small and some what successful candy store. Every night just after

dusk he would count the money he had made for the day the close up for the

night and go home to him wife and children. One night as he prepared to

close the store and count his money, a young and pretty woman had entered

his store. He tried to tell her he was closed, but she insited that she

must by some candy for her baby (both Japanese and Okinawians love their

children very much to the point of spoiling them). Knowing how she must

felt he agreed to sell her. She bought the candy and then left the store.

The man then put the money down and begun to count all of his earnings.

When he was about finished he noticed that some of the money was not good

currency. Some was the money the Japanese and Okinawians give at the

shrines to the deceased. This puzzled him greatly, where did he receive the

shire money from. Slightly puzzled he went home. The next night when he was

about to close for the night the same woman appear in the store.

Remembering that she had came in the store the night before, he asked her

if he could help her. She asked for some money for her baby. Again she made

the purchase and left the store, and like the night before when he went to

count his money there was shrine money there. He went home for the night

confused. On the third night about the same time as the other two nights

the woman appeared and ask to buy some candy. This time the storekeep held

onto the money until she left. When she did, he opend his had and saw

shrine money. He quickly tried to follow her. He saw her go down the street

and make a turn. When he rounded the corner she was no where to be seen. He

turn to walk back to his store when he heard a small cry. He quickly went

to one of the shrines he had heard the noise from. There was another small

cry. Quickly he had left to tell the police. When they got back they too

heard the noise. They decided it would be best if they opened it up. When

the did they found the corpse of a young woman and a baby, which was very

alive. They took the baby from the arms of the dead and reported it to the

family who owned the shrine. They had informed the police that there

daughter while being pregnant. From this time on the Japanese and

Okinanians do not leave shrine money, but instead leave real currency.

(Note : It should be noted that here on OKinawa they do not have

cemetaries. Instead the have shrines built, much more like tombs, and that

they are placed everywhere. When I lived off base my house was three

blocks, 600 feet, from about forty shrines. Some people live between them

or accross the street from them.)

Highway 12

This is a story about an area known here by the US Miltary as 400th area

or Ammo. The 400th area is a large zone in which we keep our armaments.

There are lots of roads, very few buildings and tons of jungle. The jungle

makes up over 70% of the area. As the goes, during Typhoon Steel

(another name for the battle of Okinawa) we had many Marines here doing

clean up of the Japanese forces. In the area now known as 400th, a small

platoon of soldiers marched down a small road back to base camp. They were

tired, hungry and eager for some well earned rest. They marched down this

road in column formation. Not really trying to be quite because they had

felt this sector was cleared and safe. There was a shout as the first

bullet pierced the the silence. They had marched right into an ambush. The

road not being more than a few feet wide and having high slopes on both

sides. The American troops were not much condition to fight or run. They

began to fire back into the jungle. It was a fierce battle, but in the end

all the US troops were killed. Many Japanese soldiers were killed also,

almost three quarters of the them had perished. Many years later the US

government decided to build a ammuntion dump in this area. They made many

roads, and as a security measure which in standard, military police and

security police patrol this area for intruders. The first sighting was a

few years after the 400th area was built. The US forces names each road.

The name of the road was Highway 12. One night while patroling his zone a

military policeman had notice something moving ahead of him on the road. As

he drove down he started to hear gun shots. That is when he saw his first

ghost. Years later, reports from police, security, and workers report

hearing gun shots or screams while drivig down that road at night. There

was one reported incident of a military policeman driving through the

appartions. Now I tried to investigate some of the sighting here on island.

My friend ,who is a military policeman, took me through is this area many

different times. According to rumors, if you drive up this road from south

to north there is a chance that you will hear something or see something

maybe even both. I have tried and failed so far. But I did find this out,

many people who work or guard the 400th area will not drive alone unless

the car radio is playing. My wife, who works out in the area, will not

frive there alone if she can help it.

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Apparition in the Hills

by rbturner@cris.com

My brother and I were sleeping in one bed located at the top of

the stairs, on the second floor. My brother woke me up at about

2:00 AM scared to death. He said that he had awoken to see a

dark shape standing over him, staring at him. He said it stood

there for a while, and then turned and walked down the stairs to

the first floor. We lay there awake until about 4:00 AM, when

we heard the coffee pot going and movement in the kitchen.

We got up and went down stairs to the kitchen where our mother

was up, and very agitated.

My mother said she woke up hearing footsteps coming down the

stairs. As the steps got to the floor, they turned and walked

towards her room. She thought it was our grandmother.

When the steps got to her doorway, a black shape passed through

the curtain in the doorway, and stopped over her, looking down

at her. She said "Begone in the name of Jesus". The shape groaned

and disappeared. She said she felt a great deal of evil from

the apparition.

That morning our mother took us elsewhere to stay. It was

many years before we spent the night in that house again.

This story is absolute fact, and has haunted my brother, mother and

myself for nearly 40 years. I am still afraid of the dark. Although I

did not personally see it, I know my brother did, and I saw the shape

my mother was in after seeing it. Two innocents who saw it separately.

I believe.

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Dark Figures

by rclevlnd@brutus.bright.net

When I was about 8 or 9 (Maybe older), I was at a friends house in my


of Fremont, Ohio. We were playing with his star wars figures, and

I noticed what I thought was a black cat. I asked my friend when

his parents had gotten him a cat. He stated, "We don't have one."

He seemes a little agitated at my question, so I went into the hall

and there it was again, right by the stairs leading down to the living

room. I said, "Well, what is this then?". When he came into the

hallway, it dashed down the stairs. He naturally didn't see it, and

looked even more upset.

His mother was sitting down in the living room, and I called down to

her to see if she had seen the cat. She was extremely upset, and

told us to go back into my friends room, and stop playing around the


I was supposed to spend the night that night, but my parents showed up

about a half an hour later, and took me home. I never really knew why.

I figured I had upset his mother somehow, and she was just mad at me, or

punishing him for playing by the stairs.

Several years later, when I was about 18, an event at home got my mother

and I onto a discussion about several things, and she proceded to tell

me the story that to this day still scares me.

Evidently, their house had been "posessed, haunted, whatever". My

parents are very religious, and My friend's family attended the same


There had been black creatures, of varying sizes, that had been

terrorizing the family. The origin had almost always been the bathroom

mirror, which was right next to my friends bedroom. They had been

attacked several times.

What I had seen was one of these creatures, one of the most violent from

what they said. His mother had called my mother in a panic, they had

never appeared to anyone but family members, until now.

I learned that later that week, the pastor and several decons from the

church had gone to thier house to try and exorsize (sorry, forgive my

spelling) the house. They were also violently attacked, and one

person become (possessed) by one momentarily, and they had to leave.

They apparently had no further problems from then on, but everytime

I go by that house, I get this sinking feeling. Like it's watching

as you go by. Or something is watching.

What brought me and my mother into this discussion was odd as well.

I have had several times when I was at home, alone, up in my room, and

hear the kitchen cabinets open and close. Sounds of glasses, and the

fridge opening. I would assume someone was home and go down to see

who was there. No one was home. Nothing had been disturbed.

Anyway, I was in my last months of High school, and came home.

Our house is a two story with a basement. We would enter the house

from the back door, because the garage next to the back edge of the

house. when you walk into the back door, you came into a landing

, on staircase hall. The hall went up, into the kithchen area to the

left, and went down into the basement to the right. You couldn't

see directly into the next room of the basement, the stairs ended

above the sub-pump, and the room was off to the left from the bottom.

When I came into the back door, I looked to my right as I came in,

because someone looked around the corner, casually, as if to see

who was home, and then went back into the basement. The basement

lights were on.

I went up into the kitchen, and my mother was sitting at the table

working on a cake. I asked her who was in the basement, because I

thought it was her. She said no one. I said, "well, someone just

looked at me from down thier, and the lights are all on." We went

and looked, and they were off. We went down, and noone was there.

I told her about the other things that had been happening in the house,

and she seemed kind of sceptical. For some reason, she may have

thought it was thier creatures, I don't know. But she told me all

about the creatures at my friends house. I was so upset about

whatever it was that looked at me from the basement, that I don't really

know how the conversation got there, it just drifted in that direction.

But there have been other events that have made me beleive in ghosts,

demons, or whatever they are. There is something there. It may be a

natural extension of our after existence. It may be evil, or the devil.

I don't know. I have found that if I leave them alone, and just

take them with a bit of humor, and a grain of salt sometimes, that

I have on the hole been left alone.

I haven't had an experiance in about 4 years. You know the odd thing is

that in the 4 years since moving from my mom and dad's, I have not

had episodes of de-ja-vue as often as I would back then. I know it

propbably means nothing, just an interesting observation.

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House with an Evil History

by sburmann@uta.com

Here's some paranormal experiences I have had at my grandmother's

house. Maybe you can add this to your Web Site (which is pretty good I

might add)? Sorry it's kinda long (a lot of stuff happened).

For years, while I was growing up, I never liked to go to my

grandparents' house. Though I love my grandparents dearly (we're quite

close), I dreaded spending the night at their house. Rarely did I spend

more than one night over there without going home. There was

something eerie about that house. Two years ago, at our Christmas

gathering, I discovered it had quite an undesirable history.

It was Christmas, and my paranormal experiences were confirmed by

several members of my family. We were talking in the living room when

my mother came in and asked, "Who's baby is in the dining room?" Since

nobody had a baby at the party, several women went in to check. The

baby crawled in the middle of the floor and faded away in front of my

aunts. They came back a little shooken up and told me and my brothers

what happened. We got to talking about all our experiences in that

house. BTW: There was an infant who died in that house years ago.

My grandparents live in a big, 4 story house built around the turn of the

century. It has a large, cement porch on the front of it. All my life, when

I entered the basement and went to the cellar directory under the porch, I

would get a sharp mental image of a man, blue, and with a bleeding

forehead. It was just an image, and I avoided that part of the basement.

Many years later while talking to my mom and aunts (who grew up in the

house), one of the first owners of the house was involved in the mafia.

He disappeared one day, when shortly after, the porch was built. To

this day, I am trying to convince my grandparents to let me dig under the


The more frightening experience I had was in my uncle's old room. When

I was 17, my granparents let me alone in the house for a few hours.

While they were gone, I grew nuts, and decided to confront my fears

and explore the big house. I went upstairs to get to the attic, which the

stairwell is through my uncle's room. I hated to go in my uncle's room,

even with my grandfather in the daytime. As I stood in the stairwell, I got

another sharp mental image of a teenager hanging himself at that very

spot. At the Christmas party, my grandma told me a teenager had hung

himself in the starewell to the attic. My uncle also told me, something

would rip his sheets off his bed at night and told him to leave the room. It

was the teenager's room.

My aunts and mother also told me there were the spirits of an elderly

couple who died in the house that occupy my grandparents room. That

could be why I always felt like I was being watched when I went in

there. These ghosts and the ghost of the baby were frequently seen by

my aunts, mother, and uncle. I am the only one who has seen visions of

the dead owner of the house.

The only room I felt safe in was my mother's old room (I didn;t know it

was her room). I told her I was not afraid in this room and she said it

was her old room. She blessed it with an angel that she said protected

her. I believe that angel is still there, for that room provides a strange

calmness and a "refuge from the evil in the rest of the house".

In all, a lifetime of unpleasant experiences were discussed that night by

our family. On one hand it fealt good to finally tell someone, on the other

hand, I'm shocked at the bad history associated with that house.

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My Horrible Life Story

by madhack@discover.net


The ghosts were playing nasty with me, pulling covers off when I was

sleeping, trying to take the pillow away, ringing doorbells, phone, alarm

clock, whatever.

I could see these dark figures all the time, they would go through me and

I could feel their force, as if a strong electric current would go

through my body.

I wanted to get rid of them and I was prepared one night. I could see

one lone figure, I quickly rose up, took a long knife that I had

reserved for this started running towards the ghost yelling "You'll go

to hell tonight!" He grabbed my arm. It was locked, I say, as if it

would have been inside a block of concrete. I was hanging down, but

his arm would not even move. I weight 220 pounds. It scared me. He

hit me, I felt the world spinning around me. I opened the door and

started running down the stairs, but he grabbed me and I fell down the

stairs, bleeding. His hand was squeezing my throat and I was under him

with no way to escape. I was crying "oh my God, I'm dying, I'm dying,

help me, help me Jehovah!". After a while the ghost left me laying


I had this another incident where I was in the bed and they held my hands

and legs and they sexually molested me. I woke up the whole house and

they thought I had a bad dream, but they could not explain the marks in

my legs and arms.

Now I just say to them "Go ahead, molest me, isn't that what you want?"

I was soon examined by psychiatrists. I had no signs of any mental

illnesses. I did not use drugs or alcohol.

I have had paranormal incidents happening to me through my life. I could

see the future, everything happened like I predicted. I talked with

these ghosts and they were chasing me around the house. In 1974 I asked

them why they were after me. They said "because you were chosen by our

god". They once tried to poison me by changing my tea into something

that was not tea overnight. I have a witness to this.

They want to control me. They want me to kill people. They have

tortured me to the point of insanity. I once saw them carrying a coffin.

I stood up and they pushed me to this room with guns and they

communicated with me: "We want you to kill these people". I was talking

with people about a computer game and I suddenly said "I love killing

people. I don't want to use a firegun, rather I want to finish them off

with a pocket knife and see how they scream". It just came off my mouth!

They have tried to wreck my marriage. They want that I'm alone, so that

they can get me. Actually I would want to be locked up and kept under

surveillance so I don't go and kill someone!

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The Dead Here Still Walk

by davidc@westworld.com

The story I'm about to tell scares the hell out of me just trying to

recall it up from my memories, some things are best left dead and buried.

After having read the stories on this site, I think it might help me rest

easier having let others know of the terror I have experienced at the

hand of the supernatural. It all began in 1992 when I moved into a house

in Ironton Ohio, a small town in the southern tip of the state. I moved

into an old house that was over a hundred years old. At first things were

normal, considering getting used to the creeks and moans an older home

emits when settling after the sun sets. About two weeks after I

experienced my first encounter, I had just finished watching David

Letterman, and proceeded with shutting up the house for the night. It was

early October and the night air was beginning to get chilly, so I shut

the windows I had opened and went into the kitchen to shut the lights

off. The kitchen had a basement door in it, and as I reached for the

light switch I heard distinctive footsteps climbing the old wooden steps

ascending up from the musty damp basement. I froze and listened as the

footsteps continued to slowly walk up to the kitchen. Up until this

moment I had never felt so scared in my life, I knew it couldn't have

been a burglar or anything like that for there were no windows or doors

in the basement save for the one in my kitchen. Finally the footsteps

stopped at the landing at the top of the steps, and I watched in

disbelief as the door knob turned and the old wooden door slowly opened

and slammed shut with an ear shattering slam! I was there long enough

that night to notice that no one stepped through the doorway, I quickly

grabbed my jacket and left to go stay with a relative for the remainder

of the night. As time went on I heard the footsteps and the door open and

shut on several occasions it still bothered me, but I was determined not

to let this drive me out of this beautiful old house. As you will see

this was just the tip of the iceberg as far as the haunting goes. I did

some research on the history of the house, and to my surprise I

discovered in 1956 a murder/suicide took place there. As told to me by

several of the long time residents of the community what had happened was

a couple by the name of Gilbert had lived there in the fifties, and the

husband had caught his wife cheating on him and in a crime of passion he

slit his wife's throat as she slept and right afterward went to the

basement and hung himself. The official record stated that he was found

hanging from the basement beams covered in his wife's blood and the knife

used in the murder lay on the floor below his dangling corpse. After

learning of these events it was difficult, to say the least not to think

about the hideous deeds that this house harbored. About a month after the

encounter at the basement door, I had friends from out of town over for

the weekend. It was an extended weekend due to the Memorial Day holiday.

This was their first visit to my new home and due to the circumstances I

purposely held back any information on what I had learned and encountered

for fear of scaring them away and it also gave me the chance to get

feedback from an unbias source. Joe and Sheila arrived late Friday night.

We drank coffee and chatted until around 1:00 a.m. and then turned in for

the night. Around 3:30 a.m. I was awakened by a scream. Joe and I found

Sheila in the hallway shaking uncontrollably. After getting her calmed

down, we found that on her way to the bathroom she saw a woman in white

coming towards her in the hallway and in her own words "her throat had

looked as if it had been torn away!". That was the last night they stayed

in my home, I can't say I blame them. The final event which drove me

from this house happened late one night before going to bed. I went

through my usual routine of showering and shaving. I stood shaving

peering into the foggy mirror a figure appeared behind me. It was the

woman's husband. I saw an almost blank look in his eyes as if he was

looking past me and his mouth was agape as if moaning a silent cry. I

never ran so hard in my life I gathered a few necessities and fled the

house for the final time. I came back about a week later with friends and

gathered my belongings never to return again. I have been fortunate not

to experience any strange occurrence like that in my present home and I

hope to never again.

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