Quote from DakhwonYou appear to have issues with compulsive impulse spending. Changing formats won't make that better or change it. You'll need professional help if you really want to change it , and they'll probably tell you quitting Magic is part of any solution.
Quote from incarnaA little prologue before I begin my story. I am both an atheist and a skeptic. When people tell me their personal ghost/demon stories, I don’t necessarily believe they are lying, I simply believe that if you strip away embellishment and take into account possible hallucinations/substance abuse/lucid dreams, there is a perfectly rational explanation for whatever it is they experienced. I give this prologue every time I tell this story to illustrate that I am NOT the: “OMG! Look at the orbs! Spirits are everywhere!” type of person. Tell me one million “true” ghost stories and I’ll give you one million rational explanations. I even have a rational explanation for this experience, but there is still that tiny little voice in the back of my head that asks; “what if your ‘rational’ explanation is wrong?”
Anyway, it was fall of 1997. My first college quarter (my school was on the quarter system, not semester system) was winding down making it November/December. I lived in school sponsored housing at Allegheny Center, building 7, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania – a studio apartment with a roommate Lance. Lance had dropped out, moved back to Ohio, and I had the place to myself although a few of his effects remained – his bed, some furniture, the heavy crap you grab with one final U-Haul trip after you’ve car-loaded all your clothes and other junk out.
Let me take a detour here to describe Allegheny Center building 7. Although it was technically a 10-story apartment building, it was basically a college dorm. It’s not super old by any means but, in its time it’s seen its share of death – during my two-year stay two students fell to their deaths (one accidental, one deliberate), but those deaths happened after the event I will describe. Also, Allegheny Center is on Pittsburgh’s North Side, the oldest part of a very old city. Because of the number of deaths, the building’s location, as well as the ample substance abuse that comes with any college dorm, there is NO shortage of “ghost” or “demon” stories that come from anyone who has ever lived in Allegheny Center. Get ten college kids sitting around the bong, one-upping one another’s “creepy” experiences, and you’d think Allegheny Center was Cthulhu’s personal back yard. I was not into drugs or alcohol during my time there (having long since satisfied my wild-child days in high school up in Michigan where I grew up), and I was a very serious and dedicated student who put his schooling first. I never shared this story with anyone until years later, not because I felt people would not believe me, but because I knew they WOULD believe me just like they believed all the crap “supernatural” stories that kids tell each other. My experience was not to be lumped into other people’s embellishments and drunken hallucinations. My experience was genuine.
Ok, back to my story. On some nights, before I went to sleep, I would take one of my dumbbells and crack the door to my studio apartment. While I was a dedicated student, I was NOT above using nonverbal communication to tell whatever female I was interested in at the time that her company was welcome at any hour. The dumbbell in the door was my 19-year-old mind’s idea of being smooth. This practice would send a long shaft of yellow hallway light down a short corridor into my studio apartment across my roommate Lance’s bed. It would be the only light in an otherwise pitch-black room. I was (and still am) an extremely light sleeper, so I was never worried about someone coming in while I was asleep without me being aware.
My bed was on the opposite side of the room, and I was trying to get to sleep, when my studio door swung open. The shaft of light from the hallway abruptly widened before narrowing again as the door slammed closed against my dumbbell. A silhouette walked into my room and sat upright, feet on the floor, facing me on my roommate’s bed with the thin shaft of hallway light behind it.
This was odd because, a girl would have come over to my bed and made her presence known. So, after a moment of strange stillness I called out “Carolyn?” Carolyn was a female friend of mine who would not have slipped into bed with me, but might visit me at an odd hour of the night to chat or hang out.
There was no answer and the shadow just continued to sit on Lance’s bed, staring at me, in silence.
“Lance?” I called out again thinking perhaps Lance had come back to Pittsburgh for some odd reason. He technically still had access to the building until he was completely moved out and, although it would be strange, it was not outside the realm of possibility that he had simply arrived super late.
The silhouette answered back in a strange hollow, completely androgynous voice that absolutely did NOT belong to Carolyn or Lance; “Maybe I am.”
I shot upright, and turned on the lamp on my night stand. I looked back to where the shadow had been sitting, and there was nothing.
There was no way anyone could have moved an inch, let alone left the room in the time it took me to take my eyes off the figure to turn on the lamp, and back again. Regardless I sprang out of bed checked the hallway, removed the dumbbell, and closed my apartment door. I quickly scoured my apartment for person-sized hiding places (of which there was only beneath the beds and in the bathroom).
Nothing. Unnerved, I got dressed and decided to leave my apartment and try and find some friends who might be hanging out late somewhere. Until the end of the quarter I could not get to sleep in that apartment and I immediately requested to be consolidated into a different apartment when a spot opened up.
That may be a lot of lead-up to a very brief experience. My rational explanation is that I was having a lucid dream – the hope for unexpected company manifesting unconsciously as the perception of actual company in my pre-REM twilight sleep. I have never experienced a lucid dream before, or since, but that is the only explanation I can come up with… that, or it’s a creepy shadow monster lurking in Allegheny Center who just decided to scare the crap out of a 19-year-old kid.
Take my story as you will, but it is absolutely true and devoid of embellishment – diluted only by the erosion of sixteen years of memory. I am not easily frightened and, perhaps because of my inability to be phased, this experience will always be with me as one of the very few times I have ever been scared in my adult life.
Quote from italofocaSome crazy stories here guys. Here comes my scary story...
I've deleted my story cause i'm too scare to write it on the net =/
Quote from killpooLooks fake to me. The card is passing a lot of light in the second picture, the front wear doesn't match the back wear, and the colors seem quite off. It could just be the pictures.
Quote from TiaxI don't think is true.
Quote from SirZapdosIf Zac Hill really was fired, would they have brought him back to do Deck Techs at the Pro Tours? I doubt it.
We want Magic to be as fun to play as possible. This card is a sorcery because we have found that strongly board-affecting instants with flashback hiding in the graveyard are likely to cause feel-bad moments from forgotten cards. Magic has enough to remember without asking players to keep track of many things in the graveyard at all times, so we made as many of the flashback cards as we could into sorceries instead.
Quote from ValarinTendrils is not an instant, you can't play it during your end step after you draw the cards.