This is the unofficial Official Scary Stories Thread.
Please, post in here scary stories that are either first hand experiences, local specialties, or the average campfire spooks. Anything creepy or horrifying is welcome here.
Note- Please refrain from posting stories that are world famous and very well known.
I.E. There is a military base in the middle of Nevada where there are supposed to be aliens.
My sister's had the usual range of goings on (sudden drafts, power flickers, all the candles in the room simultaneously going out, the usual), but the one that sticks in my memory is the one that convinced my sceptical step-sister: She was convinced that someone else at the table was moving the glass, when suddenly it rotated under everyone's fingers. Bear in mind that everyone has only one index finger on the glass, so that's pretty damn hard to do.
The freakiest stories came from the family of an ex-girlfriend - In one case, on asking to whom they were communicating, the air pressure in the room suddenly dropped and it got very cold... One of them supposedly felt a strong hand on their shoulder, panicked and knocked the glass off the table, at which point the entire house lost power. Every single person in the room just got up and ran.
There was another story that involved a similar story (the glass falling off the table and breaking), but in that case the table itself allegedly reared up on two of its four legs and walked about 4 feet towards the door, but I'm taking that one with a grain of salt...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ DISCLAIMER: Bear in mind that the two latter stories have an additional degree of separation from myself, so I can't make any guarantees for their accuracy. They were told to me as fact, and I've relayed them to the best of my memory. The stories told to me by my sister I believe 100%.
If anyone has a strong feeling that any or all of these stories are a steaming load of crap, feel free to keep that to yourself. A degree of scepticism is necessary to survive in life, but I will not accept "there's no such thing as ghosts" as a valid rebuttal to any accounts such as these. Blind scepticism is no fun at all.
Aside from that stuff, the house I grew up in was quite old, and the original part of the house (as opposed to the extensions that were added in the 70s and 80s) always had a very odd feel that my sister and I were aware of. On some nights, it could even be pinned down to the exact doorway that led to this section of the house, the hairs would stand up on the back of your neck as you walked through.
An ex-girlfriend (not the one referenced in the quote above, a different one) claimed to have seen the ghost of an elderly woman in the front room, and the couple of times I slept in the old dining room yielded some of the worst nightmares I've ever had. Very strange.
This is one of many scary events that happened to me.
It happened at my orphanage in Orsk, Russia.
It was time for bed. Most of us including me, had a hard time falling asleep. So we stayed up and chatted to one another. So about an hour past by, and 7 of 12 children including me were asleep.
So I'm chatting with the kid next to me about something when I heard a sound coming from the bathroom down the thin hallway. The sound that came from the bathroom sounded like someone unintentionally hit a pipe with their head. It was weird since there was nobody in the bathroom. I looked around and saw other kids stare each other in confusion. We heared many creepy sounds thus got used to the mysteriousy terrifying sounds. But this sound had to have been the most weirdest. Me and other 4 boys went to check it out. One by one we followed each other inside the bathroom. And I'm not kidding you it was the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life. It was (all in one) girraffes feet with holves, a bulls body, pigs hands, and zebras head. It was sitting on the toilet crossed feet and was reading a newspaper. We all ran without a word said. The end.
(The night before we put salted water in a glass out, I don't know but that might has to do with it.)
My mother loves old victorian-style houses, and we ended up moving into one in a small town with a very beautiful such house.
In fact, this house
(I'm not the current owner, so this isn't a shill or anything. To the contrary I recommend staying away just because it's in a small town in the rust belt, unless you're old and just looking for a quiet place to retire)
When I was a kid I always hated going into that basement. Apparently the realtors do too, since even though they're trying to sell the house there isn't a single picture of the basement. Even the stairway down is blocked by the fridge in the shot of the kitchen, but you can see the top of the door and frame behind it (the kitchen is about 2/3rds of the way through the images).
It doesn't help that the stairway down is made of creaky mismatched wood and has no back (the sort where you can imagine a hand reaching through from behind to grab your foot). All the lights were of the dangling light-bulb sort, and the furnace was loud and scary for a kid. But what creeped me out more than anything was the walled-off well just to the right of the staircase. It took up that corner of the basement, and there's an opening in the wall facing the other direction, just high up enough so that, I assume, you could fetch water back in the day but adventurous children couldn't easily fall in.
But there was never a time I was down there and didn't feel, very strongly, like I was being watched by something within that lightless hole. I always kept the basement door closed and would never ever go down there when I was home alone, no matter how damn badly I wanted my nerf gun from the toy chest.
Because I was always afraid that something would grab me through the gaps in the stairs and drag me into the deep well, where nobody would ever find me or know what had happened. They'd probably think that I'd been kidnapped or that I ran away instead. I definitely had nightmares of that sort, at least.
But I'd never actually experienced any instances of malevolent ghosts or strange noises, or heard of anything like that from my slightly-older brother (who was similarly afraid of the basement). Just that strong feeling of unease and of being watched. Being the book-worm that I was I decided in a particularly heavy bout of summer break boredom to investigate at the library, and discovered that the original owners of the house, for whom it was built, had perished in that well.
You see, the kitchen is directly above the well. You can notice from the image that the floor is made of wooden plank-type bits. The modern architecture is much more cohesive and well supported, but the older flooring was similar in design yet without the same support. The wood had rotted from the humidity of the well beneath, and gave way.
Now that I'm older and have my bachelor's in physics I find the idea of the supernatural hard to believe. But I remember thinking at the time, even before I learned the well's history, "This isn't a normal feeling. Something is in there." or similar thoughts. But it's hard to remember the feeling now, just my thoughts about it. I do want to go back and visit that house some time, preferably during the day, just to see if I still get that feeling.
Please, post in here scary stories that are either first hand experiences, local specialties, or the average campfire spooks. Anything creepy or horrifying is welcome here.
Note- Please refrain from posting stories that are world famous and very well known.
I.E. There is a military base in the middle of Nevada where there are supposed to be aliens.
Thanks to Highlight studios for the sig
Aside from that stuff, the house I grew up in was quite old, and the original part of the house (as opposed to the extensions that were added in the 70s and 80s) always had a very odd feel that my sister and I were aware of. On some nights, it could even be pinned down to the exact doorway that led to this section of the house, the hairs would stand up on the back of your neck as you walked through.
An ex-girlfriend (not the one referenced in the quote above, a different one) claimed to have seen the ghost of an elderly woman in the front room, and the couple of times I slept in the old dining room yielded some of the worst nightmares I've ever had. Very strange.
It happened at my orphanage in Orsk, Russia.
It was time for bed. Most of us including me, had a hard time falling asleep. So we stayed up and chatted to one another. So about an hour past by, and 7 of 12 children including me were asleep.
So I'm chatting with the kid next to me about something when I heard a sound coming from the bathroom down the thin hallway. The sound that came from the bathroom sounded like someone unintentionally hit a pipe with their head. It was weird since there was nobody in the bathroom. I looked around and saw other kids stare each other in confusion. We heared many creepy sounds thus got used to the mysteriousy terrifying sounds. But this sound had to have been the most weirdest. Me and other 4 boys went to check it out. One by one we followed each other inside the bathroom. And I'm not kidding you it was the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life. It was (all in one) girraffes feet with holves, a bulls body, pigs hands, and zebras head. It was sitting on the toilet crossed feet and was reading a newspaper. We all ran without a word said. The end.
(The night before we put salted water in a glass out, I don't know but that might has to do with it.)
In fact, this house
(I'm not the current owner, so this isn't a shill or anything. To the contrary I recommend staying away just because it's in a small town in the rust belt, unless you're old and just looking for a quiet place to retire)
When I was a kid I always hated going into that basement. Apparently the realtors do too, since even though they're trying to sell the house there isn't a single picture of the basement. Even the stairway down is blocked by the fridge in the shot of the kitchen, but you can see the top of the door and frame behind it (the kitchen is about 2/3rds of the way through the images).
It doesn't help that the stairway down is made of creaky mismatched wood and has no back (the sort where you can imagine a hand reaching through from behind to grab your foot). All the lights were of the dangling light-bulb sort, and the furnace was loud and scary for a kid. But what creeped me out more than anything was the walled-off well just to the right of the staircase. It took up that corner of the basement, and there's an opening in the wall facing the other direction, just high up enough so that, I assume, you could fetch water back in the day but adventurous children couldn't easily fall in.
But there was never a time I was down there and didn't feel, very strongly, like I was being watched by something within that lightless hole. I always kept the basement door closed and would never ever go down there when I was home alone, no matter how damn badly I wanted my nerf gun from the toy chest.
Because I was always afraid that something would grab me through the gaps in the stairs and drag me into the deep well, where nobody would ever find me or know what had happened. They'd probably think that I'd been kidnapped or that I ran away instead. I definitely had nightmares of that sort, at least.
But I'd never actually experienced any instances of malevolent ghosts or strange noises, or heard of anything like that from my slightly-older brother (who was similarly afraid of the basement). Just that strong feeling of unease and of being watched. Being the book-worm that I was I decided in a particularly heavy bout of summer break boredom to investigate at the library, and discovered that the original owners of the house, for whom it was built, had perished in that well.
You see, the kitchen is directly above the well. You can notice from the image that the floor is made of wooden plank-type bits. The modern architecture is much more cohesive and well supported, but the older flooring was similar in design yet without the same support. The wood had rotted from the humidity of the well beneath, and gave way.
Now that I'm older and have my bachelor's in physics I find the idea of the supernatural hard to believe. But I remember thinking at the time, even before I learned the well's history, "This isn't a normal feeling. Something is in there." or similar thoughts. But it's hard to remember the feeling now, just my thoughts about it. I do want to go back and visit that house some time, preferably during the day, just to see if I still get that feeling.
- Rabid Wombat