Black Abyss Babe
CriedWhenJanickCutHisHair
Mostly it just paced up and down the stairs. But later on it also took to pacing diagonally across my room and on one occasion it decided to bounce all over my bed! While I was on it!
Mysteries & the Supernatural
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Onhell
Infinite Dreamer
You're going to enjoy this.
Once again I'll start with something not so creepy, yet very telling about the ghost in my house. As I mentioned in previous posts, most of the creepy activity occured at night. However, once my parents split and the shit hit the fan it was pretty much 24/7. One weekend I was reading on the L-shaped couch in the livingroom with my back to the door that led to the spiral staircase to the bottom floor. It must have been no later than 11 AM and Casper began his usual rounds of swinging the Saloon doors, up the stairs, down the hall, up more stairs, stop. return the way it came and repeat. On it's way down the hall it would pass right behind me, the distinctly slow, sliding footsteps getting closer and then fading away. On one of those passes, as it past the dinning room and approached my position I turned quickly in its direction. It stopped dead in its tracks. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. I looked around for a bit and then laid back down and kept reading. Casper continued on his path. That incident has always made me think. This thing was aware, conscious. It wasn't some mindless, stuck entity, it knew full well what it was doing.
As the activity escalated I was its main victim. One night as I was falling asleep I heard faint breathing. I didn't know if it was mine or someone else's of how faint it was. I held my breath to find out and I could still hear it. I still wasn't sure if it was indeed someone else or at that point I was so frightened that the blood rushing through my ears was playing tricks on me. The mystery solved itself as the nights went on, because the faint breathing got progressively louder. It came from my closet and it went from the faint breathing I couldn't quite make out to this angry, forceful, agitated, almost grunting, breathing that there was no mistaking its origin. It wouldn't always stay in the closet. It would take it upon itself to walk in circles at the foot of my bed stomping its feet. Then, as part of its routine it would come up next to me, bend down and breathe in my face. then it would walk over to the foot of the bed and sit in the space created by my legs as I lay in a fetal position. Feeling its weight I would look down and see how the sheets were pressed down outlining my legs, but nothing else. Because of this I began sleeping with the radio on. For the next decade, even after leaving that house and eventually the country I continued to sleep with the radio on and the closet doors, no matter where I slept, had to be closed.
The creepiest incident by far happened when I was about 12 years old. I woke up in the middle of the night fully awake and decided to go downstairs to watch some TV. As the disobidient kid that I was I put on HBO (I wasn't allowed to watch it past 10pm, much less 3am) and sat in the dark with the TV in low volume. Then I heard my mom's door knob turn and in a panic I turn off the TV and wait in the dark for the door to open. Nothing happened. I turn the TV back on. A few moments later I once again hear the door knob, again I turn off the TV and wait. Again, nothing. TV back on and this time, no longer in a panic, focus my attention on what might be happening upstairs rather than the TV. Sure enough, I hear the door knob again. This time, however, I only mute the TV and wait. I clearly hear the door knob turn, but that's it, turn back and forth, but the door never opens. Curious and against my better judgement I turn off the TV and venture upstairs to investigate. Already halfway up the stairs I could make out the door knob and I could see it turn from side to side. I stood right in front of the door and saw it move. I became so frightened I couldn't move. Then, from the other side of the door came a frantic scratching from the top of the 2 meter door all the way to the bottom. The scratching was followed by the sound of my mom's lamps falling over and crashing to the floor. Snapping out of my fear and being more concerned for my mom I took a deep breath and opened the door.
My parent's master bedroom was huge. When you entered you would come into a small living room with a couple of couches, a coffee table, the TV and their phone. To the right they had Venetian blinds seperating the living room from the actual bedroom.
I stood in the doorway waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark. Once they did I saw the two lamps intact in their respective spots and then I heard my mom's snoring coming from beyond the blinds. I closed the door and as soon as I did the door knob once again moved on its own from side to side and once again the frantic scratching from top to bottom. I bolted to my brother's room, shook him awake as i blurted out, "There is something in mom's room! There is something in mom's room!" He swatted my hands away and motioning me to lie down as he turned on his side he said, "Just go to sleep." I laid there wide eyed and frightened. When I heard the door knob again I told him, "See! Hear that?" To which he mumbled, "shut up and go to sleep."
The next morning we compared notes, so to speak. My mom told us how she heard someone trying to get IN to her room, how the lamps fell, the scratching and also told us the oddest thing. As all that racket was happening beyond the Venetian blinds a mouse ran across her face. A MOUSE! I had NEVER heard of mice climbing beds and running across them. In fact, I recently got rid of a nest of mice in my current home and they never made their way upstairs and my house is only two stories, never mind THREE. Just the distance this little guy traveled is mind boggling. I told my mom that someone wasn't trying to get IN, but trying to get OUT. We examined the door for scratch marks and found NONE. Not... one. We did, however, find a perfect line of sawdust running the length of the doorway. If the door didn't have scratch marks... Where did the sawdust come from?
We eventually left the house as my mom couldn't afford the bills and we moved to a small apartment. The noises stopped. Whatever it was stayed in the house. My brother, being a typical teenager, would ocassional get fed up with us for no reason and would spend a few days at the house just to have some "me" time. Obviously I asked him if he experienced anything odd. He told me that on his last night the footsteps came back as well as as the oddest phenomenon. The door in the bottom floor leading to the garage had a bolt lock. It didn't require a key, but it didn't exactly slide easily. He would make rounds throughout the day and found it slide open. He would slide it back, go upstairs, hours later come back and it was slid open again...
Once out of the house we began taking stock of our years there and the hell we lived tormented by this thing. We began to notice details we missed before. As I mentioned in a previous post, the Saloon doors led to a closet, a bathroom and the maid's quaters. It is normal for middle class households in Mexico to have hired help, but not live-in maids. My parents and neighbors were well-off enough to afford such a luxury. Our neighbors had the same maid for over 20 years. Ours never made it past six months. Most just left a note for us to find saying, "I can't get acclimated." Or how they were homesick, etc. We only had to deal with this thing a few hours a day since we were at school or work most of the day, but those poor girls were there ALL DAY. God knows what they heard and saw.
Since neither my mom or dad could afford the bills of the house on their own they decided to rent it. The first family we rented the house to said they'd rent it for a year, yet only stayed a month and left with no notice. Just took off without a word. The second family we rented it to said they'd like to stay 7 years at least. After the first year they decided not to renew and left. The last family we rented to loved the house so much they wanted to buy it. They made it the longest... 5 years I think, but in that time they went from the picture perfect family to a mess. When we first met them they were a couple in their thirties, in good health with their young children, about my brother and my age. My mom and I stopped to visit on one of our trips back to Mexico. When we rang the door bell the wife opened the door and peered from behind the door, as though suspicious of who could be at the door. She looked HAGGARD. Once inside the house we got a better look at a worn, tired, beaten woman. She looked ANCIENT. She told us how the husband basically went insane and left. From what she described it sounded like a schizoid disorder. As soon as we left the house I just turned to my mom and asked, "Mom, what the hell is in that house that it destroys people?"
After that family left and oddly got better, the husband came back, all his marbles intact, the wife got better too, my parents struggled to find someone to rent or buy it. Finally my dad signed a contract with Century 21 to speed up the process. One day he received a phone call from the realtor. "Excuse me, Major?" "Yes?" "Um... I need to ask... Is... Is your home haunted?" Without missing a beat my dad answered, "Yes." Shocked the realtor exclaimed, "What? Why didn't you tell us!?" "So you could sell the house. Why? What happened?" The realtor told my dad that he took a young couple to see the house and the creepiest thing happened. Mind you, at this point the house is empty, no furniture, no curtains, nothing. Empty. They entered the house and even though it was a sunny day it was dark inside the house. They took not even two steps beyond the doorway and the house grew cold and a mysterious fog began to fill the house. They ran out never to return.
Century 21 hired paranormal investigators and told my dad they found an old man and two children, a boy and a girl. When they asked the spirits to leave the children left right away, but the old man refused and that they essentially dragged him out kicking and screaming. The old man explains the tired, sliding footsteps and the breathing, but the kids? Maybe the minor pranks? All I know is that it was fucking scary and while I never experienced that kind of horror again it wasn't the end of my creepy experiences. Stay tuned!
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Black Abyss Babe
CriedWhenJanickCutHisHair
Wow, that was some ghost(s) you had there Onhell! Interesting that your ghost seems to have shared a few ghostly pastimes with ours. However, the big difference is that our ghost was not in the least bit threatening, and didn't seem to mind us being there.
First, a bit about the house. It was an early Victorian estate house, and had been built by the estate workers for the use of the head gardener. But they seemed to have built it out of whatever they had lying around, a fair amount of which had clearly been used elsewhere previously. My parents never made much effort to decorate the place, so we still had mainly the same wallpaper that was up when we moved in. When that eventually fell down 20 years later (!!) it revealed a large ceiling beam which had a cutout which was not being used but had obviously been part of a joint in its previous location (it looked like it might once have seen service in an old barn). The stairs were made of two halves of a treetrunk which rested on the ground and the top of the wall where the door to the front bedroom was, and this supported the whole weight of the staircase - it wasn't attached to the walls or propped from underneath at all. Smaller pieces of wood were attached to the half-treetrunks, sticking out horizontally, and the actual treads were fastned to these. There were three bedrooms - the "master bedroom" which was my parents, the "front bedroom" which originally was for all three of us kids (though it became just mine later on) and the "back bedroom" which was part of a later extension (done very badly) and was at that time reserved for when my grandmother came to visit so was usually empty. All three doors opened directly onto a landing about the size of a postage stamp and the door to the "front bedroom" faced directly down the stairs. The stairwell itself was completely enclosed and led at the bottom directly into a small pantry which we called the "glory hole". A door to the left, right at the bottom of the stairs, led into the downstairs part of the house. Originally there had been another range extending from the glory hole, and this contained a larger pantry and a scullery which had access from the glory hole and also from outside the house, but this range had been demolished before my parents bought the house, and they had had a bathroom added in part of the resultant space (though the access to this was through another part of the house and through what would originally have been a door to the outside, rather than retaining the original access route through the glory hole).
So it was a fairly old house, completely unique and with reused parts from elsewhere. Also it had a cellar which had been sealed off, and nobody knew what, if anything, was in it.
Anyway, one night soon after we moved in we three kids were all in bed, but not yet asleep, when we heard footsteps creaking their way down the stairs and into the glory hole. Thinking it was my Dad (who had around that time taken to skulking in the glory hole to catch us talking after lights out) we stayed where we were initially. But when the footsteps failed to re-emerge from the glory hole after a long time we were eventually brave enough to investigate. There was definitely no-one in the glory hole, and there was no way out of there except the way you went in. The door at the bottom of the stairs, which was the only way to the rest of the house, had not opened (it was fastned with a spring catch and had a very distinctive click). Then it occured to us that it was strange if we heard Dad going down the stairs when we hadn't heard him come up. So this happened a few times and eventually we decided to go and look while the footsteps were still on the stairs. I remember this well: standing in the doorway of the room and looking down the stairwell as heavy, laboured footsteps creaked their way down and disappeared into the glory hole. And then didn't come out. With hindsight I think that the ghost would have been on its way to the larger pantry that used to be there, rather than skulking in the glory hole, but we kids didn't know about that then.
Years later I had the front bedroom to myself (my brother had taken over the back bedroom after my grandmother died, and my sister had moved out to share a bedsit with her friend). I often used to sit propped up on my bed and read, and on one occasion after I had spent a few hours doing this I went downstairs and my mother enquired why I had been pacing backwards and forwards across the room. I said I hadn't, I had been sitting on the bed reading. I postulated that maybe the sound she had heard might be caused by rats running along the joists under the floor (because it is in truth pretty much impossible to completely exclude rodents from a building of that age). She said no it couldn't have been because the footsteps she heard had been going diagonally across the floor, from the door to the opposite corner and back again. Repeatedly, for some time. The interesting thing here is that I couldn't hear anything from inside the room, but she could hear it from the room underneath.
And on one other occasion I was again propped up reading when something I couldn't see got on the bed, close to where my right hand was, and started bouncing! Boing boing boing it went, all around my feet and up to near my left hand. Then boing boing boing all the way back again. It was just commencing a third circuit when I said "oh, cut it out!" and the mysterious bouncing stopped, just as suddenly and mysteriously as it had begun. This happened only once, but I was awake reading and it was broad daylight so I definitely didn't dream it.
The house eventually burned down in about 2000 in a (I think) not-satisfactorily-explained fire, after we had moved out to have some remedial building works done. Shortly after we moved out we received a letter, out of the blue, from the family who we bought the house from, enquiring if we had seen the "spook" which they had actually seen going down the stairs and disappearing into the glory hole, exactly as we had heard it doing!
We lived there for 24 quite happy years, and when I was finally told about the fire (which happened after I had come to Southampton) I just stood in the middle of the room and cried for half an hour. I loved that house so much.
On the subject of mice though (to finish on a lighter note), one did once get in bed with me! It actually got in the back of my nightdress, but it was just lying there and not doing any harm, so it didn't bother me. I think it was trying to keep warm - it was a freezing cold morning and there was ice on the insides of the windows (which weren't double glazed). And we had no central heating or carpets so it was really cold in the room. So I woke up and I could feel that there was something there, but when I moved just slightly (I didn't want to squash it, obviously) it got up and slowly made its way out of the bed and jumped onto the floor. And when its little paws hit the lino it let out a little squeak that sounded just like a very dejected "awwww" and off it toddled!
First, a bit about the house. It was an early Victorian estate house, and had been built by the estate workers for the use of the head gardener. But they seemed to have built it out of whatever they had lying around, a fair amount of which had clearly been used elsewhere previously. My parents never made much effort to decorate the place, so we still had mainly the same wallpaper that was up when we moved in. When that eventually fell down 20 years later (!!) it revealed a large ceiling beam which had a cutout which was not being used but had obviously been part of a joint in its previous location (it looked like it might once have seen service in an old barn). The stairs were made of two halves of a treetrunk which rested on the ground and the top of the wall where the door to the front bedroom was, and this supported the whole weight of the staircase - it wasn't attached to the walls or propped from underneath at all. Smaller pieces of wood were attached to the half-treetrunks, sticking out horizontally, and the actual treads were fastned to these. There were three bedrooms - the "master bedroom" which was my parents, the "front bedroom" which originally was for all three of us kids (though it became just mine later on) and the "back bedroom" which was part of a later extension (done very badly) and was at that time reserved for when my grandmother came to visit so was usually empty. All three doors opened directly onto a landing about the size of a postage stamp and the door to the "front bedroom" faced directly down the stairs. The stairwell itself was completely enclosed and led at the bottom directly into a small pantry which we called the "glory hole". A door to the left, right at the bottom of the stairs, led into the downstairs part of the house. Originally there had been another range extending from the glory hole, and this contained a larger pantry and a scullery which had access from the glory hole and also from outside the house, but this range had been demolished before my parents bought the house, and they had had a bathroom added in part of the resultant space (though the access to this was through another part of the house and through what would originally have been a door to the outside, rather than retaining the original access route through the glory hole).
So it was a fairly old house, completely unique and with reused parts from elsewhere. Also it had a cellar which had been sealed off, and nobody knew what, if anything, was in it.
Anyway, one night soon after we moved in we three kids were all in bed, but not yet asleep, when we heard footsteps creaking their way down the stairs and into the glory hole. Thinking it was my Dad (who had around that time taken to skulking in the glory hole to catch us talking after lights out) we stayed where we were initially. But when the footsteps failed to re-emerge from the glory hole after a long time we were eventually brave enough to investigate. There was definitely no-one in the glory hole, and there was no way out of there except the way you went in. The door at the bottom of the stairs, which was the only way to the rest of the house, had not opened (it was fastned with a spring catch and had a very distinctive click). Then it occured to us that it was strange if we heard Dad going down the stairs when we hadn't heard him come up. So this happened a few times and eventually we decided to go and look while the footsteps were still on the stairs. I remember this well: standing in the doorway of the room and looking down the stairwell as heavy, laboured footsteps creaked their way down and disappeared into the glory hole. And then didn't come out. With hindsight I think that the ghost would have been on its way to the larger pantry that used to be there, rather than skulking in the glory hole, but we kids didn't know about that then.
Years later I had the front bedroom to myself (my brother had taken over the back bedroom after my grandmother died, and my sister had moved out to share a bedsit with her friend). I often used to sit propped up on my bed and read, and on one occasion after I had spent a few hours doing this I went downstairs and my mother enquired why I had been pacing backwards and forwards across the room. I said I hadn't, I had been sitting on the bed reading. I postulated that maybe the sound she had heard might be caused by rats running along the joists under the floor (because it is in truth pretty much impossible to completely exclude rodents from a building of that age). She said no it couldn't have been because the footsteps she heard had been going diagonally across the floor, from the door to the opposite corner and back again. Repeatedly, for some time. The interesting thing here is that I couldn't hear anything from inside the room, but she could hear it from the room underneath.
And on one other occasion I was again propped up reading when something I couldn't see got on the bed, close to where my right hand was, and started bouncing! Boing boing boing it went, all around my feet and up to near my left hand. Then boing boing boing all the way back again. It was just commencing a third circuit when I said "oh, cut it out!" and the mysterious bouncing stopped, just as suddenly and mysteriously as it had begun. This happened only once, but I was awake reading and it was broad daylight so I definitely didn't dream it.
The house eventually burned down in about 2000 in a (I think) not-satisfactorily-explained fire, after we had moved out to have some remedial building works done. Shortly after we moved out we received a letter, out of the blue, from the family who we bought the house from, enquiring if we had seen the "spook" which they had actually seen going down the stairs and disappearing into the glory hole, exactly as we had heard it doing!
We lived there for 24 quite happy years, and when I was finally told about the fire (which happened after I had come to Southampton) I just stood in the middle of the room and cried for half an hour. I loved that house so much.
On the subject of mice though (to finish on a lighter note), one did once get in bed with me! It actually got in the back of my nightdress, but it was just lying there and not doing any harm, so it didn't bother me. I think it was trying to keep warm - it was a freezing cold morning and there was ice on the insides of the windows (which weren't double glazed). And we had no central heating or carpets so it was really cold in the room. So I woke up and I could feel that there was something there, but when I moved just slightly (I didn't want to squash it, obviously) it got up and slowly made its way out of the bed and jumped onto the floor. And when its little paws hit the lino it let out a little squeak that sounded just like a very dejected "awwww" and off it toddled!
ayidenmuhamad
Prowler
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Onhell
Infinite Dreamer
But what does your family say?
Saapanael
Ancient Mariner
I went for a bike ride in the evening and rode through the woods to a place where you can get on top of a large flat roof. It was around sunset so I sat down on the roof at a brick structure about 3x4 meters in size and enjoyed the view. I circled the shed and tried to climb on top of it but didn't quite manage. I stayed there for maybe ten minutes, surprised that I was the only one chilling on that roof on such a warm summer day. I heard a quiet sound from the graffiti-covered structure, an electric shed or generator room or whatever it's called. There were a couple similar ones further away on the tar paper roof. For a moment, I got the idea that someone might be inside but when I looked at the door and saw cobwebs connecting the rusty door and the brick wall I knew it hadn't been opened for ages. It was dead quiet for a while, followed by new sounds. "Some machinery's working in there," I think as it sounds like clanks of metal. It continues and I keep trying to figure out what it might be until I hear a cough or something else unmistakably human. The sounds have crept ever closer to the door, it's about to open any second, it should have already opened. I get up, grab my bike hella fast and walk away. As soon as I move away from the shed, just like a last-moment premonition, I see a hobo with a plastic bag walking on the roof a couple dozen meters away. I go straight into the edge of the woods in front before looking back. Sure enough, another hobo has emerged from the small structure where I had been sitting for a long time, certain that there was no one in the vicinity.
The_7th_one
Ancient Mariner
silent hobos
Saapanael
Ancient Mariner
How he got in there is the supernatural part.
londongeorge
Noblity
The supernatural world is undoubtedly a reality. Too many sensible people with no agenda or axe to grind have experienced spooky phenomenon confirming this. I personally have felt the presence of the other side of the veil on several occasions. One was unquestionably my grandma. The other was a previous pet that died in a road traffic accident.
I just remembered something weird from my childhood. When I was small, both my dad and my grandparents sometimes mixed up my brother's name and mine. They usually caught themselves and corrected themselves, but especially for my grandparents, it almost became the usual appellation. Nothing odd there, we were their oldest grandchildren four years apart. Our names aren't similar except that they start with the same letter.
Anyway, in kindergarten, I had a teacher who would come once a week or so and consistently addressed me with my brother's name. She didn't know my brother, or even that I had one, and there was another kid in my class with that name.
This can be chalked up to funny coincidence, but much later, teachers in school did that too. I remember two distinct cases, and they didn't know my brother, nor was he even in the same school.
Right now, I have three explanations. 1) It's a glitch in the Matrix, 2) They crossed through parallel universes or 3) I'm actually in the Truman show, the teachers got casted after watching old episodes with my brother in them and fucked up their text, in which case I have you all figured out now.
Anyway, in kindergarten, I had a teacher who would come once a week or so and consistently addressed me with my brother's name. She didn't know my brother, or even that I had one, and there was another kid in my class with that name.
This can be chalked up to funny coincidence, but much later, teachers in school did that too. I remember two distinct cases, and they didn't know my brother, nor was he even in the same school.
Right now, I have three explanations. 1) It's a glitch in the Matrix, 2) They crossed through parallel universes or 3) I'm actually in the Truman show, the teachers got casted after watching old episodes with my brother in them and fucked up their text, in which case I have you all figured out now.
Prune - is it Berenstein Bears or Berenstain Bears?
Bernstain. I noticed this spelling in grade 3 when I moved to Canada as a German and recognised it as a wrong spelling of a German word.
He always said "No- I am your father."
Mandela died in 2013.
Onhell
Infinite Dreamer
I was debating wether to put this here or the Dreams thread and finally decided it was just too weird for the dreams thread.
Last night I found myself unable to go to sleep at around 1am. A storm woke me up and I was unable to go back to sleep. It rained all night, with the intensity of the storm going back and forth, but never fully stopping. I decided to go to the TV room and crash on the couch just to see if the change of scenery helped.
It did not.
I closed my eyes trying hard to go back to sleep, but instead I just heard the storm get louder, then softer, then loud again. I heard what seemed like a leak, but sounded like a small waterfall. The thought that my house might be flooding crossed my mind, but I ignored it, being too tired to care. Then I heard my GF come into the room, I half opened my eyes and saw it was her. I ignored her, and closed my eyes. I felt how she ran her hand by my feet. I opened my eyes to find no one there, and I could hear my GF adjusting and breathing deeply from the other room.
From the moment I woke up I felt... off, depressed and physically I felt a pit in my stomach, that only got worse after this first incident. The rain continued as well as the cascading sound downstairs. I finally had fallen asleep when I was woken up by my Xbox. It was making a really loud noise, a mixture of static and working too hard at processing something. Again I open my eyes trying to pin point the source of the sound. I was so out of it I simply tried to ignore it and go back to bed... the sound continued. When it finally stopped I was now awaken by music, coming from the bathroom. I figured it was my GF was watching something on her cellphone. Sure enough I saw her come out with phone in hand, the light of the screen bouncing off the walls and illuminating part of her body. This time not only did she come into the room, but she beckoned me back to bed. Once again, I lifted my head, eyes fully open... fully awake and once again there was no one there and I could hear my GF sleeping soundly in the other room, The storm continued, the cascading sound downstairs and the Xbox kept whinning softly. I asked myself if I had really shut it off.
I didn't realize I had fallen asleep again, It felt as though the whole night I had just shut my eyes as I could hear everything, my dogs scratching their house, the rain, my gf... I could open my eyes whenever and it would all still be there and I had full motion of my body. The last episode was a tad different. My GF came in AGAIN, this time walking all the way up to my side, bent over, ran her hand down my chest and stomach and again softly told me to come back to bed. When I opened my eyes she was gone, in her place there was a man sitting cross-legged with his back to me, facing my TV which was now on on a no signal blue screen and once again the XBox was whinning loudly.
This time I couldn't move, I finally realized it had ALL been a dream! I had been waking up from one dream into another. I began to struggle to move my arms and hands, I began controlling my breathing until I was finally able to get up. As soon as I got up EVERYTHING went quiet. The storm had stopped, the TV and Xbox were off, my dogs were sound asleep and so was my GF who was still sleeping soundly. It was extremely unsettling.
I laid back down and fell asleep. Not long after my REAL GF came into the room and turned on the light. It startled me so much I screamed, which made her scream and I began having a panic attack. I asked her if it was really her to which she said, "of course it is! Who do you think it is?" This time I did go back to bed.
This morning I told her about it. How it felt like I just kept jumping from dream to dream all the while thinking I was awake. In retrospect it was more akin to a bad trip. I told her how she kept visiting me and about the man, the oppressive atmosphere.
"Do you think there's something in the house?" I thought about it for a second and finally answered, "No, I just think I had a very twisted nightmare."
I have NEVER experienced something like this without the aid of psychodelics. Don't wish it on anyone.
Last night I found myself unable to go to sleep at around 1am. A storm woke me up and I was unable to go back to sleep. It rained all night, with the intensity of the storm going back and forth, but never fully stopping. I decided to go to the TV room and crash on the couch just to see if the change of scenery helped.
It did not.
I closed my eyes trying hard to go back to sleep, but instead I just heard the storm get louder, then softer, then loud again. I heard what seemed like a leak, but sounded like a small waterfall. The thought that my house might be flooding crossed my mind, but I ignored it, being too tired to care. Then I heard my GF come into the room, I half opened my eyes and saw it was her. I ignored her, and closed my eyes. I felt how she ran her hand by my feet. I opened my eyes to find no one there, and I could hear my GF adjusting and breathing deeply from the other room.
From the moment I woke up I felt... off, depressed and physically I felt a pit in my stomach, that only got worse after this first incident. The rain continued as well as the cascading sound downstairs. I finally had fallen asleep when I was woken up by my Xbox. It was making a really loud noise, a mixture of static and working too hard at processing something. Again I open my eyes trying to pin point the source of the sound. I was so out of it I simply tried to ignore it and go back to bed... the sound continued. When it finally stopped I was now awaken by music, coming from the bathroom. I figured it was my GF was watching something on her cellphone. Sure enough I saw her come out with phone in hand, the light of the screen bouncing off the walls and illuminating part of her body. This time not only did she come into the room, but she beckoned me back to bed. Once again, I lifted my head, eyes fully open... fully awake and once again there was no one there and I could hear my GF sleeping soundly in the other room, The storm continued, the cascading sound downstairs and the Xbox kept whinning softly. I asked myself if I had really shut it off.
I didn't realize I had fallen asleep again, It felt as though the whole night I had just shut my eyes as I could hear everything, my dogs scratching their house, the rain, my gf... I could open my eyes whenever and it would all still be there and I had full motion of my body. The last episode was a tad different. My GF came in AGAIN, this time walking all the way up to my side, bent over, ran her hand down my chest and stomach and again softly told me to come back to bed. When I opened my eyes she was gone, in her place there was a man sitting cross-legged with his back to me, facing my TV which was now on on a no signal blue screen and once again the XBox was whinning loudly.
This time I couldn't move, I finally realized it had ALL been a dream! I had been waking up from one dream into another. I began to struggle to move my arms and hands, I began controlling my breathing until I was finally able to get up. As soon as I got up EVERYTHING went quiet. The storm had stopped, the TV and Xbox were off, my dogs were sound asleep and so was my GF who was still sleeping soundly. It was extremely unsettling.
I laid back down and fell asleep. Not long after my REAL GF came into the room and turned on the light. It startled me so much I screamed, which made her scream and I began having a panic attack. I asked her if it was really her to which she said, "of course it is! Who do you think it is?" This time I did go back to bed.
This morning I told her about it. How it felt like I just kept jumping from dream to dream all the while thinking I was awake. In retrospect it was more akin to a bad trip. I told her how she kept visiting me and about the man, the oppressive atmosphere.
"Do you think there's something in the house?" I thought about it for a second and finally answered, "No, I just think I had a very twisted nightmare."
I have NEVER experienced something like this without the aid of psychodelics. Don't wish it on anyone.
MindRuler
Ancient Mariner
This story looks rather pale compared to Onhell´s latest post but I´ll post it anyway. 
A few years ago I was walking to work (only a few miles from my home) while it was raining. I always listen to music so I made a mix on my mp3player. A random played mix of about 100 songs, mostly metal but also 80´s popmusic. The song that was playing at that particular moment was Video Killed The Radio Stars by The Buggles. During the same time a colleague passed me with his car and stopped. I stepped in... He was listening to a radiostation. You´ll never guess which song was playing on that station.
A few years ago I was walking to work (only a few miles from my home) while it was raining. I always listen to music so I made a mix on my mp3player. A random played mix of about 100 songs, mostly metal but also 80´s popmusic. The song that was playing at that particular moment was Video Killed The Radio Stars by The Buggles. During the same time a colleague passed me with his car and stopped. I stepped in... He was listening to a radiostation. You´ll never guess which song was playing on that station.
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Saapanael
Ancient Mariner
Hmm...The Angel and the Gambler?
CriedWhenBrucieLeft
Meme Only Account
Get Outta My Dreams, Get into My Car by Billy Ocean?
Onhell
Infinite Dreamer
This story looks rather pale compared to Onhell´s latest post but I´ll post it anyway.
A few years ago I was walking to work (only a few miles from my home) while it was raining. I always listen to music so I made a mix on my mp3player. A random played mix of about 100 songs, mostly metal but also 80´s popmusic. The song that was playing at that particular moment was Video Killed The Radio Stars by The Buggles. During the same time a colleague passed me with his car and stopped. I stepped in... He was listening to a radiostation. You´ll never guess which song was playing on that station.
this kind of stuff happens to me so often I stopped keeping track lol. I'm glad other people note how odd it can be.