Why is the 5 year old allowed to run up and down the stairs to the attic and play all night.

My grandparents own a haunted house! I semi grew up there and was never ever nope nope nope comfortable. Short story – my adopted sister came to meet my side of the family and stayed in my room alone while I I stayed at my bfs house for some alone times. The next morning she told me she thought it was weird that the 5 year old was allowed to run up and down the stairs to the attic and play all night, did aunt/uncle know? Then I showed her how the stairs were blocked off and so packed of stuff it would have been impossible. It was then she decided to sleep on the couch at bf’s house instead of a nice bed.

– Posted by Wtfgrandma; Reddit

This will probably never be seen because the post is already at 2,400 comments but I swear on my life that it is absolutely true.

One of my close friends lived next to a house that was always vacant. It would sell, people would move in, and then one day they’d be gone and the house would be up for sale again. One summer, when the house was listed again and the last family had moved out, we decided to go take a tour and eat some Jack in the Box we had picked up. We weren’t very smart sometimes and thought it would be cool to play chicken with whatever was haunting this house. My friend was really skinny and crawled through the dog door that led straight into the kitchen, then opened the back door for me. We went through all of the rooms and it was pretty nondescript, just a typical 50s style bungalow house with a similar layout to his home, lots of pretty woodwork and built-ins. After we determined that the house really wasn’t that creepy after all, we sat down in the dining area, on the floor, across from a little horseshoe shaped nook with a kitchen table and built-in bench. It was dusk out but the windows didn’t have curtains and it never got that dark in our city, anyway. At this point, we had been in the house for maybe 25 minutes and after we finished eating we stayed sitting just to hang out and talk since we weren’t spooked out at all. All of a sudden, mid-sentence, completely out of nowhere, my vision went black and I felt this eery coldness wash all over me (I’m getting chills thinking about it), a feeling so thick I felt like it penetrated my through my body down to my bones. At the very same moment this happened, my friend screamed. I virtually could not see anything and was groping around trying to find something to grab onto and I felt so unsettled and ..cold. There’s really no other word for it. After what felt like hours, I felt my friend’s hands in mine and he pulled me to my feet and drug me through the house to the back door. He kept pulling on my arm and I still couldn’t see anything. We got outside and slowly ..you know that feeling when you get a whole body shiver and it runs down your spine? As soon as I was outside, that’s what I felt, except this was a whole body shiver that started at the tip of my toes and went all the way up to my scalp, and unexpectedly and suddenly I could see again. My friend was as pale as a sheet and looked absolutely terrified. I felt off and sort of, gross, I guess is the best word, and in shock. I told him that I couldn’t see at all until I was outside, that it felt like I had been enveloped in blackness. He was just staring at me and I finally asked him why he had screamed. He hugged me and told me that he pulled me out of the house as soon as I started reaching around like I was blind because a little girl who was completely black, and yet see through, crawled out from under the table we were across from and sat on top of me.

– Posted by aigret; Reddit

The children in my family have a thing with seeing ghosts.

The children in my family have a thing with seeing ghosts. We have had 3 major incidents that have freaked out my family from all different generations and different “ghosts.”

The first incident was when my sister was just able to talk. My mom was driving past Peterson Tractor where my grandpa used to work and my sister pointed to the business and said “grandpa plays with tractors” well the strange thing was that my grandpa died when my mom was 15 and my mom had never mentioned him.

The next story happened almost every night when I was little. My mom would put me down for bed and I would immediately jump out of bed and go over to my grandmas vanity set she gave me before she died. I would say good night to whatever was over there and give it a hug. I would blow a kiss and say “good night grandma.” My poor mom has now had both of her children see ghosts.

The third story is the strangest. My aunt died of leukemia when she was 13, and then my cousin got diagnosed when she was 10. My cousin was laying in her hospital bed when she turned to my grandma and asked “who is that little girl in the white wicker chair?” My grandma had her describe the little girl and my grandma showed her a picture of Cheryl (my aunt who had passed) and she confirmed it was her.

– Posted by MarceeBoggs; Reddit

Sam Through The Window

I was working the 11-7 shift as a charge nurse in a nursing home. There was a patient named “Sam“. Sam had come to the home after a mugger had attacked him with a tire iron. The doctors had saved his life by removing the left side of his skull and part of his brain. Sam’s head looked like a basketball that was deflated on one side. Despite not really being able to take care of himself, he could read, watch TV, and engage in his favorite pastime, watching the young female nurses and aides. He wouldn’t do anything but put his arm around a girl’s shoulder to say ‘Thank You‘ when she picked up his dinner tray. That was it. So Sam became something of the nursing home mascot. But as it happens in this business, Sam died of a blood infection six months after I started there.

The night of his death, we were gathered around the desk for the report from Sandy, the 3-11 nurse, as she gave her report to me and three nurse’s aides. When Sandy came to Sam’s name, she said “Sam died at about 3:30 this after…”. Suddenly a call light came on. Everyone stared at the light board. The call was coming from Room 30. That room had been locked ever since the relatives had taken his belongings away. The call was coming from Sam’s empty, locked room.

We all went down the hall to see what this was about. We thought that another patient had probably gotten into the room and put on the call bell. Sam’s room was open, lights were on, call bell was pushed in ( old fashioned call light. Shape like a bell, you had to push the button in the center to call and turn it off by twisting the edge of the bell). Only one problem, no patient was up, the door was not forced, it was unlocked, all the staff were at the desk, the only one that had the key was the charge nurse and the door was locked when I made rounds not more then ten minutes before.

I mumbled something about loose wire. I twisted the call bell off, turned the room lights off, locked the door and went with the rest of the staff back to the Nurse’s Station. Sandy started the report again. She didn’t get more than 3 minutes into the report, when Sam’s call light came on again. We went down to find the room opened, lights on and call bell on, all patients in bed. I turned the call bell off, the lights off, and locked the room up again. Back to the desk. Report started again. The light came on again. By this time it was more nuisance than scary. So we decided to leave it on, continue report so that the other shift could leave.

After report, I went down to the room, turned off the call bell, replaced the old cord with a new call bell cord, turned off the room lights, and locked the door again. The bell stayed off but the signal on the board stayed on. We went down the longest hall- Sam’s hall- to start our work. As we passed Sam’s room the door was open but the lights were off. The Nurses aides felt a cold breeze up their skirts( remember Sam liked the ladies.) At that I went into the room to check if someone had opened a window. No window was open and no air conditioner was on in the room. I closed the door and locked the door again. And we continued. After we finished down that hall, we went past Sam’s room again. The door was still closed and locked. By the time we finished the 1st round it was 2 AM. Back at the desk, the call light in Sam’s room was off. We forgot about Sam.

We drank our, by now, cold coffee. I did my paper work and the aides exchanged small talk. At 3 AM, we started the second round down the long hall again. This time Sam’s door was open and the females felt an even colder breeze. I went into the room. It was like a vacuum as if the air had been sucked out. I opened the windows but no air could dispel the vacuum. I had had enough. I yelled, “Sam you’re dead! You spent enough time in this place. Get out of here!” I closed the windows, locked the door again, and joined the aides for rounds. I didn’t go in that room until around 6:00 AM. All four of us went for one last look. No vacuum, no breeze, sun shining through the window. Nothing to prove anything happened that morning. We didn’t want to tell the 7-3 shift and risk the whole day looking at ink blots, so we kept the occurrences to ourselves but this was only the beginning. We were not prepared for what was going to happen next.

The following night, I get a call at home from Sandy. She asked me if anything happened on 11-7 shift. I said “why?” Sandy stated this tale.

“Well when we were picking up the dinner trays we were one tray over. We passed out 26 trays and we picked up 27 trays.”
“Somebody miscounted.” I said.

“That may have happened. Only the 27th tray was outside Sam’s Room just as he had left it when he was alive…exactly as he left it.”

“Somebody is pulling a prank on you, Sandy”, I said.

“I don’t think so because when I stood up from taking the tray, I felt an arm around my shoulder just like Sam had put it. I was the only one down that hall.”

I then told her what had happened the previous morning. She said, “Well, it looks like we have ghost to add to the census.”

That wasn’t the end of the story. A week later another patient was admitted to Room 30. A retired university professor. One night her light came on. She had seen a man staring at her from outside her window. When I asked her what the man looked like, she said that he was not normal looking. The left side of his head was deflated like an old volleyball (she used to play volleyball a lot in her younger days). I told her that I would go around the building and see if I could see him. The police were called to look for a potential prowler. They found no one and no footprints outside the window; no grass disturbed. But I knew who it was. When I told the Nurse’s Aides, they knew who it was. Sam was back! Over the years every female patient that was in that room saw Sam staring at them through the window. No male patient would ever see him. For you see, Sam liked the girls.

I left the nursing home some years later so don’t know how long Sam stuck around. But these events were experienced and/or confirmed by various employees and patients. In my career working in nursing homes, reports like this are relatively common. I don’t know what to make of this, except that we just don’t know what happens after death and maybe some people just want to linger where they felt most comfortable. Sam did.

– Posted by Merlyn; Allnurses

The Children In The Furnace

I don’t remember this, but my mom tells the story often. When I was somewhere around 2 to 3 years old, I used to play in my basement. My mom once asked me what I did down there, and I told her I would play with the kids that lived down there. She had me show here where they lived and I pointed to a huge coal furnace that was disconnected, with attached coal bin. She realized the door to the furnace was just latched in place, and kinda freaked out, thinking that I was playing inside. She had my dad weld the door on the furnace and coal bin shut.

Apparently I came up the next day crying. My mom says that when she asked me what was wrong, I had told her that my friends won’t come out to play anymore. They’re all gone.

– Posted by HiddenKrypt; Reddit

I see an arm sitting on the armrest.

This was around 7-8 years ago (13 or so). My brother and I shared a bedroom with 2 twin beds with blue sailboat sheets. Walls are a light blue and there is a TV next to a computer on the opposite wall from the beds ( Just painting the scene ). My brother goes to spend the night at a friends and I am sleeping alone in our room for the first time (I would generally sleep in my parents room, but knew I was getting too old for it. After getting past my fear of being alone in the dark, I finally turn off the TV and go to sleep. I got to sleep surprisingly quickly, but was woken up when my TV kicked on to a channel with static. I don’t know the time, but estimate it at around 2-3 AM. I get up and am a bit startled, but I begin to realize something. The computer chair (made up of old, beaten up plastic and fake leather) is slowly spinning. Enough to be noticeable, but not to be making full 360 turns. This is the part that still makes me look over my shoulder every night before turning out the light to make the horrifying journey to my bed. As I stare at the chair, with the static TV channel giving off that particular frequency that drives you nuts, I see an arm sitting on the armrest. As the chair turn a small girl is sitting there. The best I can describe her is straight out of The Ring. Keep in mind this was years before it was released. The girl did nothing but sit, knees curled up to chest, staring, looking, silently waiting. As the chair continued its rotation the feeling of dread dissipates and the TV clicks off. At this point I freak the fuck out. I start screaming for my dad. My parents were across the house and didn’t hear me. I sat there for 4 hours waiting to die that night. To make matters worse, I befriended a girl who I found out long into our friendship was a wicken. After I told her this story, She said, ” Don’t be afraid. I have seen that spirit in your house. She only wants to help you.” I must admit I felt better after that, but still….. mother of god.

– Posted by Kraillin; Reddit

The Boy In The Basement

my cousin owns a home in upstate NY, its nearly 200 years old. The first night that I am there I wake up in the the middle of the night to take a piss (I am about 11 or 12 at the time). I open the bathroom door and standing right in the middle of the bathroom looking at me, like, “hey, I’m in here”. He was a little boy of about 6-8 in 1920s or 30s attire! I freaked screamed and slammed the door, opened it and he was gone. My scream was enough to wake up everyone in the house. I was told that it was nothing and to go back to sleep. It wasnt for another several years that my cousin told me that there was a small boy that died their around the depression, he had fallen down the bumb waiter that lead from that bathroom to the washroom in the basement!! I still remember the kids face vividly (I’m 23 now). and it still gives me goosebumps when I give it any serious thought….

– Posted by abeuntstudiainmores ; Reddit

Five Days At The Lake

Day One

We Arrive

When we got there, which is about 5 hours from Toronto, we were pretty delighted that it was so secluded. The nearest cottage was about a 45 minute walk away. The cottage itself was about 30 years old, and had been restored and updated with some nice amenities like heated floors and room to room sound system. Despite the updates, the owners kept with mostly original furniture, so the place had this quaint antiquated look, which I suppose serves the mood of the cottage well.

There were 2 bedrooms, one master and one smaller room with two beds, presumably for children. A large common open space and a wood burning stove and a nice wrap-around deck with a large barbecue rounded out the cottage features.

Next to the cottage was a smaller version of the cottage, like a 1/5th size miniature, built as a play house for children. It was really cute and the attention to detail was remarkable, however age and weather had given it a worn look, and it had not been repainted for quite a while. If you looked at it for too long, it was actually kind of creepy. It was like the little runt child of the parent cottage.

Also on the grounds was a wood shed where you’d get your fire wood. A sign encouraged guests to chop enough wood for the convenience of the next guest, with a good size wood-axe impaled on the chopping block ready to go.

About a 5 minute walk down a trail through the woods lead you to the lakefront where there was a jetty outfitted with canoe, paddle boat and another barbecue.

So that was basically the setting, and the first night was pretty normal. It was the second night that things started to get strange for me.

Day Two

A strange rainy day

It rained. We happily spent the day indoors, although Rabbit was rather looking forward to traipsing around the woods. Around dinner time, I realized I had stupidly forgotten to shut off the gas valve on the barbecue, and it had drained over night. Recalling the second barbecue down at the jetty, I took Rabbit with me on the short hike down the path.

By now the rain had stopped. It was already dusk, and once you hit the path under the cover of trees, things were outright dark. I regretted not bringing a flashlight.

Rabbit was off-leash of course, and as a scouter, he would typically run ahead and come back and joyfully run ahead again. This time, he wasn’t, he kept right next to me the whole time which is unusual for him.

By the time I got to the jetty, fussed with the barbecue to unlatch the propane tank, and prepared to head back, it had already gotten quite dark, and I was starting to dread walking back up the path again. With a full propane tank, it was going to be hard to jog uphill in the dark, so I steeled myself for a steady walk, being thankful to have Rabbit next to me.

The whole hike up the path, I heard only the steady crunch-crunch of my feet, and Rabbit’s patter-patter next to me. Everything was quiet.

And then I remember hearing a rather loud rustling off in the trees.

It was a bit nerve-wracking, but it was nature, and any manner of creature could be making its way through the bush. I tried to ignore it, and eventually emerged back at the cottage.

My wife, Bethany, was standing on the deck.

“Oh, there you are.” She sounded a little surprised. “That took long?”

“Yeah, I had to fuss to get this thing out of the cabinet.”

“I thought I heard you coming back a few minutes go. But I’ve been waiting for at least ten minutes and you just showed up now.”

I thought she might have heard the same creature I had, though the timing didn’t quite add up. I was tired and just wanted to start dinner so I shrugged it off and we ate and called it a night.

Day Three

When things get outright frightening.

It was decent enough weather to do some boating and fishing for most of the day. Rabbit got to swim in the lake, and we had a huge lunch and just sat and drank wine till the sun set.

That night while we were asleep, Rabbit started to whine and pace around. It was about 2am, and I was pretty groggy from all the drinking. Beth was out like a light. I figured Rabbit probably needed to go outside to do his “duty”, so I pulled some pants on and grabbed his leash and headed outside.

It was cool and a fog had crawled in from the lake. I couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front of me. The porch light was meek and ineffectual, but it was enough to light the immediate patch of grass at the bottom of the stairs where I was standing with Rabbit, encouraging him to do his business sooner rather than later.

Well, he was taking his time, sniffing the ground and not really committing to it. I was getting a little antsy and was telling him to hurry up, and my agitation was likely not helping him.

That’s when I heard the crunch-crunch-shuffle, crunch-crunch-shuffle sounds coming from the woods, somewhere out beyond the fog. Rabbit froze, his tail was between his legs and he shrank behind me. This is not usual behavior for him.

I stood there for a while at the bottom of the stairs on the patch of grass, and listened for the crunching of leaves and shuffling noises again. It was coming from the side of the house, where the miniature play cottage was. I directed the flash light there, but the beam didn’t get too far. I took a couple of steps to see if I can make out anything. The crunch-crunch-shuffle came again.

Then I heard panting, the heavy laboured breathing of a tired animal. Was it an animal? I couldn’t really decide if it was. Other than a dog, I didn’t really know what other panting animals might sound like. Then I heard the sound of the small door to the play house creak open, and slam shut. Loudly. It rattled the glass and scared the crap out of me. I ran back up the porch with Rabbit leading the way. We hurried inside, and I closed and locked the door.

I was absolutely terrified and I tried to inject some sense into the situation. We’re in the middle of the woods, it’s the middle of the night, humans are here, which means food might be lying around nearby, of course we’re going to attract nocturnal creatures. Raccoons have been known to claw open doors and trash cans. I was acting absurd.

Rabbit still hadn’t peed but was now curled up on the couch. His eyes wouldn’t leave the door. I headed back to the bedroom, to find my wife, awake, standing at the window.

“Hun? What are you doing up?” I asked. She didn’t respond. I touched her shoulder. She turned around, her eyes were open, but she had this look on her that was a mixture of worry and confusion. “What is it?” I said again, she was scaring the crap out of me.

“I saw it,” she said.

“Oh! Was it a raccoon? I figured –”

“NO!” She said breathlessly. And the way she said it, it was like a pleading “No!” sent a chill through me, and my heart started racing. I did not want to hear what she saw. I knew I didn’t.

After a moment I asked her, as calmly as I could, “What was it?”

“Something was crawling around down there,” she said. I nodded. Pause. “It was a child. There was a child crawling through the bushes. A little girl. On her hands and knees. Like some animal.”

I didn’t even know how to respond. The image of what she was describing sent my head spinning. I was blinking rapidly, I remember this, and it was giving me a headache. Beth didn’t say anything more, after a minute, she sat down on the bed, still confused as if she wasn’t fully comprehending what she saw or what she just told me she saw. I watched her. She lay down after a few minutes, and fell asleep.

I couldn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night. I just lay there, listening to every single sound inside and outside the house. Cracking twigs, creaking noises, tap-tap-tapping, scratches on the roof.

But I did not hear the crunch-crunch-shuffle for the rest of the night.

Day Four

I visit the miniature play house

I must have dozed off sometime before dawn, because I woke up to bright sunlight, Rabbit was standing on the bed looking down at me with this kind of pleading look. He was hungry, and he probably really needed to pee.

Beth was still half-asleep but was rousing, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

I took Rabbit outside where he was relieved, and I studied the play house. Even in the sunlight, it gave me the creeps. I heard Beth inside, up and about and then running water in the bathroom. I headed over to the play house, Rabbit followed me.

It really was a near exact replica of the main cottage, right down to the little details like the flower boxes, the shutters, the placement of the chimney. It was about 5′ high, and no more than 8′ x 8′ square. There were two little steps that lead up to a miniature door that closely resembled its larger version. A hand painted sign over the door read “Play House”.

Oddly, there was, at one time, a padlock on the door. The latch had now broken off. Next to the door was a large window which had long dusted over. I peered in but could only see odd shapes lying about. I opened the door. It smelled of paint and mould. The resemblance to the cottage of course was superficial only; inside was just a single room.

There were old paint cans stacked in a corner, paint-rollers, pieces of old carpet rolled up and leaned in another corner, a broken small rocking chair lay on its side, a stack of floor tiles, and some random pieces of wood lay scattered. Apparently, it had been relegated to storage some time ago. Cardboard had been taped up over the windows on the opposite wall.

Crayon markings decorated the walls, and there were remnants of toys and colouring books amidst the clutter. When I looked immediately down, I saw wet markings where the dust had been disturbed. Something had obviously moved through here. I followed the trail, it moved around the room, maybe twice or more, and then disappeared, or perhaps went back to the door, I couldn’t really tell for sure. I didn’t see any kind of animal footprint, or anything I recognized, just a weird mess of swishy lines through the dust. Something had definitely been in here.

I looked back at the walls again, and noticed the drawings of small hands. The way a child would put their hand up and trace around the fingers with a crayon. All the drawings were of the right hand, I don’t know why I noted that.

I realized Rabbit was back up on the porch, lying next to the door. I backed out out the play house, and closed the door. It rattled the glass just as I had heard it last night.

Over breakfast, I asked Beth how she slept. She said she slept OK, but had had a disturbing dream. I asked her to describe it to me. Bashfully, she said she only remembered being frightened by something out in the woods, and that it went back to an old childhood fear of being chased. She was trying to be joking about it, and to pass it off as nothing much.

I didn’t press her for details. I didn’t tell her that she looked wide awake when she told me she saw a little girl crawling around on her hands and knees in the forest in the middle of the night. I just didn’t want to bring it up.

The rest of the day was decent, we went into town to pick up some food and sundries, and spent most of the day relaxing on the deck in the sun.

The next day, several bizarre things happened that was enough for us to pack up and leave early.

Day Five: Part 1

Things get way too real

We took the canoe, and spent most of the day out on the lake. We left Rabbit at the cottage for the day, promising him a full day of swimming tomorrow to ease our guilt.

It was a bright and cheerful day, and it was easy to forget the events from a couple nights ago. In fact, it started to feel downright silly.

After paddling around our part of the lake for most of the day, stopping to fish, snack and drink, we decided to paddle across to the far side of the lake where the other cottage was located. We could see the dock that must belong to the cottage, but not much else. So we started paddling, in no real hurry.

After about 15 minutes, we meandered over. The dock was empty except for some debris and a wrecked rowboat. We were surprised to find that the cottage here had actually long since collapsed. A green roof lay a few feet above the ground, and there were old wood boards everywhere. Cinder blocks lay amidst the overgrowth, and there was nothing else. There was a hole in the roof and it looked like some enterprising animal had made a den within.

Beth suggested we go check it out. I felt strongly that we shouldn’t. I said that it didn’t look safe, and that it was already getting turning into evening. Secretly, I really wanted to head back before dusk.

It didn’t quite happen that way, Beth wanted to paddle around more at the very least, so we killed another hour before leisurely meandered back to our part of the lake. By now, the sun had set behind the tree line, and mist had started to creep over the surface of the lake, reflecting grey and somber light over everything. It went from bright and cheery, to dreary and depressing in a matter of minutes. Things got cool quickly, and it was a bit tougher paddling against the wind which had picked up substantially.

“Oh, shit.” I said, and I’ll never forget that moment when I looked over to our deck where we were headed, to see the figure of a man standing there. Beth saw him, too. We instinctively stopped rowing. “Now who the fuck is he,” I said, annoyed and terrified. A really strange combination of feelings.

The man was far enough that we could make out only the vaguest details, but beyond arms, legs, and what appeared to be rain coat, it was hard to discern much more. He was thin and he stood start still. Beth waved an arm, but he didn’t wave back.

“Maybe it’s the owner? Come to check on us, see how his guests were doing?” Beth suggested. I wasn’t too sure about that. Why come and check on the fifth day? Why not a phone call? I wasn’t buying it. It was getting quite dark. “Well, is it rude to just be sitting here. I think he’s waiting for us,” she said.

I didn’t care. I’d rather sit out on the lake as the mist crept around us, than to paddle over to our dock where this man was standing there. So we sat there for a while.

“OK, now I’m scared as shit,” Beth said. The man hadn’t moved at all. I felt a little comforted that I wasn’t the only one behaving irrationally. Before we knew it, the mist had encroached over everything and both the man and the dock faded from view. All we could see was grey.

I slowly put my paddle into the water, and gently nudged us forward. I just wanted to get close enough where the mist parted so we could see the dock again. Then I planned to stop, and just watch. After a dozen gentle strokes, the tip of the dock reappeared from the mist. I let us coast for a while until the whole thing was in view. The man was gone. I heard Beth gasped.

Enough was enough. I paddled on, really annoyed for some reason, and we got to the dock. I helped my wife out, and we pulled the boat up and left it there. We said “Hello?” a few times, but heard nothing. Beth was clinging to my arm and fright and cold was making her shake.

Now I wanted to get back to the house and be indoors as quickly as possible, and that meant a brief march up the path, through the woods, in the dark, in the fog. But it had to get done. We hadn’t planned on being out here till dusk, so I didn’t bring a light.

The trail was easy enough to follow, but we just couldn’t see beyond 10’. We walked, awkwardly and stiffly as Beth clung to me, trying to not step on each others feet and wishing that Rabbit was with us.

As always, once we got under the trees, it became oppressively dark, still and quiet. We were breathing heavily as the way was uphill, and we were both cold and spooked out of our minds. I tried to keep focus, remembering that it was only five minute walk, and that’s it.

And then we heard it. crunch-crunch-shuffle Beth pinched my arm, and we both ran for it. crunch-crunch-shuffle… pant-pant…

In the distance, we could hear Rabbit barking. Rabbit never barked. Of his four years alive, he might have barked twice, by accident. But he was barking loud, almost angry. Or fearful?

I heard the crunch-crunch-shuffle somewhere behind, far enough, but still distinct, and we were at the end of the path, we scurried across the grass, up the stairs, opened the door, and threw ourselves inside. We were wet, sweaty, panting and scared stupid. Then we laughed. For a bit. Then I remembered that Rabbit had been cooped up all day, and he at least needed to go out and do his business. I gave it a few minutes to catch my breath. Things were quiet again, and I took him back out while Beth stood on the porch and looked around.

Rabbit peed, and then suddenly started barking into the mist. Did I see a man move through the mist? It was impossible to tell. I had had enough of being outside for the day, so in we went. I kept by the window, looking out for any signs of movement.

“OK. This is the scariest shit, ever.” I finally admitted to Beth. She agreed. We tried to have a laugh over it, but we were both genuinely pretty spooked.

By now, it had gotten really windy. So much that sometimes the gusts shook the whole house.

During the day, Rabbit, home alone, must have knocked over the main lamp in the common room, so it lay busted on the floor. I remembered that there was a lamp in the spare bedroom, so I headed down the hallway.

The spare bedroom door was closed. Funny, I don’t remember closing it. I assumed Beth did. Now it started to feel creepy inside the house. I opened the door, and looked in, there were no light switches, so I tried to make out the layout of the room in the dimness. There were two small beds on opposite walls, in between them was a small table upon which was the lamp I was after.

I crossed the room toward the lamp, walking between the two small beds. I saw that the covers had been disturbed, on both beds, and that there was a dent in one of the pillows.

I assumed Rabbit had been in here, maybe napping during the day. But the door had been closed. This started to not feel right.

I grabbed the lamp, and realized I would have to unplug it first before I could get it out. The plug was behind the right-side bed’s headboard. I bent down, getting on my hands and knees, and peered under the bed. And there she was, the little girl, white-faced, peering back out at me.

I swear I saw this, but when I jerked my head back, I whacked it against the edge of the beam and my eyes flashed. Of course there was no one under there. My stupid imagination had projected that image into the real world. I grabbed the cord and yanked it from the plug, snatched the lamp, and marched out of the room. I walked down the hallway, and heard the door gently close itself behind me. I was holding the lamp in one hand, and I had bunched the cord up in the other hand, so there was no way I had closed that door on my way out. Rabbit was waiting for me at the end of the hallway.

I decided against telling my wife this, we had enough of a freaky evening, and she was just loosening up with some wine now. She had the wood-burning stove going and I could have been fooled into thinking everything was warm and cozy and fine. But I was a nervous wreck. I wanted to get out now, call it quits, pick our stuff up, and leave. Now. I don’t think Rabbit would have minded either.

But we didn’t. Not yet.

Day Five: Part 2

In the middle of the night, when we had split almost a whole bottle between us, I woke to sounds coming from the end of hallway again. The wind had died down, there was the occasional gust, but it was otherwise pretty quiet outside. I waited, and heard it again.

Tap-tap-tap-tap. Scratch. Tapping on the window in the other room. Then the rustle of something shifting on the bed, possibly blankets being pushed around.

I looked up. Rabbit was at the foot of the bed, his head was looking in the same direction, his ears were up and he was stalk still.

Tap-Tap. Rustle-rustle. Creak. Still from inside the house.

Rabbit started to growl, that deep, low internal growl that he does when he’s not happy about something.

Tap-tap-tap-tap

Then.

SLAM

That came from outside. The play house door. Followed by the familiar rattle of windows. Beth was now awake, and when I looked over, all I saw were her eyes wide and bright and staring at me. She was almost on the verge of tears, and I tried to say “Shh. It’s fine…” But she cut me off. She told me, in a whisper, she remembers what she dreamed of the other day. I nodded. “Was it the little girl?” She looked panicked now.

Tap-tap-tap-tap

From the end of the hall way. The door creaked open. Pause. Then closed shut. With a click. Rabbit had stopped growling, but he hadn’t moved. He was staring intently at our bedroom door, which I had closed. There was the sound of something moving through the house. Softly, very carefully, moving. I could have convinced myself I was imagining it, if it hadn’t been for Rabbit. I watched Rabbit turn his head as he tracked the sound moving from the back of the house to the front where our bed room was. Then his head turned as he tracked it back the other way. By now, I couldn’t hear much, just the odd creak and rustle, but Rabbit was very aware of something.

We lay there for a long time for maybe an hour. Then we heard it, and this time it was close, it was right outside the bedroom window.

Crunch-crunch-shuffle-shuffle. Pant-pant.

“It’s her,” Beth said. I really really wished she didn’t say that. There was a flash light next to the bed, I thought about going to the window, and playing the light around outside. I imagined seeing a little girl crawling around through the leaves on her hands and knees under the moonlight. I decided not to do this.

We lay there, with Rabbit at our feet, listening to the shuffling and crunching of something crawling around outside the house. This must have went on for only a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Neither of us moved, and it had gotten really cold, or we had scared ourselves silly that we were feeling cold. Either way, it was the most uncomfortable, most terrifying situation I could ever remember.

We decided not to stay another night, and as soon as the first crack of sunlight appeared through the window, we got out of bed, packed our stuff, and within an hour, we were in the car.

On the ride home, we didn’t talk much, and when we did, we talked about what we experienced. I had asked Beth if she ever closed that spare bedroom door. She doesn’t remember that she did. I had asked her if she ever went in there. She confessed to me that since day one, she didn’t feel right going down the hall to the spare room.

The first day, she had been looking for some blankets, and when she headed down there check if there were any, she was struck by a strange feeling that made her stop. She said she felt weird going in there as if she were intruding. She knew we were guests in someone’s house, so the feeling of being in an unfamiliar home was always present no matter what, but still, she said she had this irrational desire to not want to go in there.

I didn’t blame her, I told her I felt strange while I was in there getting the lamp, and that I might have let my imagination get the better of me as I recalled the “dream” she said she had had about the little girl crawling around under the trees.

This is just a follow-up thread to my original story about our Five days at the lake.

A got a few PMs asking how real this place was, so I thought I’d dig up some of the photos I had backed up a couple years ago and share them with you.

So here you’ll see:

• The play house. This was taken when we just arrived so it’s the exterior. I didn’t think to shoot the interior, and after the experience, I didn’t go near it
• This was one of the spookiest parts of the lake
• This was how dark the path got while it was still light out
• A shot of the collapse. More shots in the photo album.
• Needless to say, I did not take a shot of the spare bedroom, this was grabbed from the cottage’s website

Some more photos are here: http://smugcanuck.imgur.com/five_days_at_the_lake

– Posted by SmugCanuck; Nosleep

The Owner Of The Handprint On The Arm

i hate being the nut with the ghost stories, i dont believe 4/5 ghost stories i hear. but i can tell you that everything in here is what i experienced. if it was truly paranormal, i really dont want to know

about 5 years ago i was living in a house that was haunted, mostly in my bedroom. i experienced alot of things but the only thing that relates to the dream is that one morning i woke up, stood up to stretch and noticed a small hand mark on my left arm. it looked as if the hand had been there the whole night and was very red and was indented in, like if you sleep with clothes crumpled up beneath u and it leaves that mark. anyway, the hand had only a thumb and two fingers, and looked like a childs hand. it was a left hand, and it was imprinted on my left bicep (therefore impossible for it to have been my hand, it was very distinct and i tried to recreate it but couldnt). i wasnt able to get a witness because by the time i got downstairs it was gone. every night in my room i would hear footsteps above my bed, and a general feeling of fear and anxiety all the time when i was alone. sometimes i thought i could see eyes from my closet. one day we heard what sounded like large furniture being thrown around (like dressers/bedframes) upstairs, in my room. my stepfather walked upstairs with a bat, but noone was there.

anyway about a month ago i had the first dream. i dreamt that i woke up to go get a glass of water, and immediately i realized i was inside a dream. i looked down to realize i had no body, then saw my body still lying in bed behind me. i went out of my room and started wandering my house, things seemed to be happening just like they normally do at my house, i saw my brothers playing xbox and all that jazz. this dream was the clearest i had ever experienced, and my dreams are pretty vivid. the thing that was different about this one though was that i could not control my surroundings, at all. i could only control what i did, which is very unusual for me, idk if anyone else has had a dream like that but it was new to me. i decided to leave my house so i started to fly over my field. not long after i left the house i began to feel a burn on my arm that was excruciating. i felt like it was melting my skin and i wanted to cut my arm off rather than deal with the pain. id never experienced pain in a dream before, but id experienced other feelings i didnt think were possible in dreams beforehand. i decided the best idea was to go back to my body and wake up. when i entered my room i saw a figure standing next to my bed.

the figure was completely black. although that is an understatement. it was a void, completely absent of any color or reflection. from the shape it looked like an 11 year old boy. my body was looking directly into the face of it with my eyes open, and completely glazed over grey. the figure was holding my arm (the same one that burned, and still did). it didnt notice that i entered, so i assumed it couldnt see me, i only felt a little safe because i knew it was my dream. i floated to the wall beside my body and looked into the face of the figure and saw the eyes, that couldnt be seen unless looking directly at the face, because the eyes seemed to be looking out from far into the void of the body, rather than being on it. i looked into its eyes, and it made me feel like id never see anything beautiful again. an image flashed in my mind right after i started to look into them. it was an image but it carried alot more than sight. i saw 2 men, trapped in a cell together, who had lost all hope of ever living a life outside the room, and each of them refused sleep in fear that the other would kill them, and each of them was planning on killing the other based on this fear. i started to hear a whispering in my head that got progressively louder, until it became a shout, and yanked me off the bed. i woke up as soon as it started pulling, and got that feeling that i was still being pulled sideways (ive experienced falling backwards when waking, but sideways was new.)

the second dream was worse. much worse. my friend C was staying over at my house and was sleeping with me in my bed. once again i woke up and started to go get a drink, this time however i did not realize it was a dream and when i looked back i was not in my bed like last time, it was just C. i remember thinking how beautiful she looked and how much i was gonna miss her (i was bringing her to the airport later that week, so it was about the last time id see her) before i walked out. i got a drink and when i came back the black figure was in the room and the walls were covered with blood. its was tearing C apart, ripping off her skin and hair and tearing out organs. i could hear her screaming to help in the beggining, and i could even feel the warmth of the blood that was getting on me. i stood in shock for a second and tried to jump on the back of the figure, in hopes off pulling it away. the second my body made contact with the figure, the burn came back, but it went through every part of my body. i felt like i could feel every individual cell in my body exploding. i fell to the ground and started crying because i couldn’t budge the figure an inch or stop its rage. i started hitting it with my fist, and it felt like i was punching underwater, but even slower. every hit i made did nothing except send shots of pain down the bones of my arm. i shouted “why are you doing this” and it stopped, turned to me and stared at me with those fucking eyes that i see in every dark corner and i heard the voice in my head yell “BECAUSE YOU’RE MINE”

– Posted by doomroka13; Reddit

The Same Occurances In Different Buildings

I am a Director of Nursing in Virginia…I have worked in several ltc facilities and have noted some of the SAME occurrences in different buildings. I was wondering if any of you could relate to any of these as well?
* the children – at least half of all of my residents have seen and talk about the children
*call lights going on and off in certain rooms for no reason
*Residents identifying an “upstairs and downstairs” even though all of my facilities have been 1 floor
*residents’ voices changing and telling you things such as “DO not be afraid”
*residents who are actively dying and turn their heads slowly to look at you with this look I cannot describe but send chills up your spine
*the woman in white
*Vital signs machines, oxygen concentrators not working in an end of life or acute situation
*residents seeing “the man” or “the dog”.

Any of these things could absolutely be chalked up to hallucinations or dementia, HOWEVER in so many residents in different places?? Or when you have a string of actively dying patients in the building – everything going wrong…..

– Posted by gericarrie; Allnurses