The HAUNTED Corner, mwahaha - any real life stories to share?

Since it is drawing close to All Hallows Eve - Halloween in the States - and Search didn’t drag up a suitable topic in General Chat… -breeeaath- I was wondering if any of you Citizen Scientists have observed any phenomena of a rather unusual, hard to explain, to downright creepy nature, such as… -SHRIEK! -

Orr… -SCREEAAM!! -
(Sorry, I meant to include this yesterday aand… my three favorite words, I forgot) :woozy_face:

Well, but I mean in in real life. Hopefully nothing as horrifying as what poor Nijol just went through… :stuck_out_tongue_closed_eyes: I’ll share a story of my own on Halloween.


I will abstain since I have a deeply held belief and once had a very real encounter. But detailing it would draw attention to the very entities I despise. Let’s just say I don’t believe in the souls of the dead but something far more menacing.
The rest of you, carry on. :grimacing: if you dare…


I believe I share that belief, and that includes a lot of alien encounters… -EEEEK!! -

scary alien-02

Goodness, I’ve had dreams like this… -shivers -


Skinwalkers. Perhaps the trickster spirit known as Coyote. I encountered something in Waldenburg Colorado. Truck overheated. Towed to Trinidad Colorado, and was fine the next morning. Without any work done to it.


Here is one Arkansas legend.


Steve Paterson (Steve Paterson - YouTube)
1 month ago
Its been said that if you see the light you will notice a glow around your foot. You have been touched by the Gurdon Light Foot! :laughing:


Well, it’s All Hallows Eve eve, so while I contemplate supper, and just in case I forget tomorrow, here’s one of my stories, a rather fun one.

When I was a kid of about 8 or 9, I was alone in an old sandstone home one sunny summer afternoon, upstairs in my bedroom coloring gemstones I had drawn. It seems my artistic bent began at an early age.

Downstairs, I heard a click, like a light switch. I listened intently in case someone had snuck in and was messing around, but I heard nothing further, so I went back to coloring. Then I heard it again. I knew that there was no such things as ghosts, as I was fond of flaunting my science oriented mind even back then, but this was weird. The house was fairly old and the floors creaked. Was something flipping lights off… some overload? And then they began turning on and off in a fairly regular rhythm. Going from room to room, something was flipping all the light switches on the first floor, but without squeaking a single board. In typically brave 9 year old fashion, I crawled under my bed to hide. There were vents which ran through the upstairs floor, so you could get a draft of warm air and a look downstairs, which I was fond of doing. But not this time. I began to creep over to mine, but I was afraid I might see something, but just as afraid of seeing nothing.

This went on for about fifteen minutes, and then abruptly stopped, and there was silence for quite a while, other than faint sounds from outside. I began to crawl out from under my bed fort, when I heard something else. It sounded like papers being ruffled, or leaves blowing in a breeze, but more like papers. I looked outside, but the air was calm. What was causing this! If it was a spook, why now, why me? Maybe because I was alone, and made fun of spooks? Needless to say I didn’t want to go peek downstairs just to see things blowing around that didn’t belong there, or see nothing being shuffled about, so back under my fort I crawled. Again, this disturbance circled all through the first floor for about fifteen minutes or so, and I listened to it, quivering nervously. And then again it stopped, and there was silence for a time.

I hoped that Mr or Mrs Spook was done with the scared little me, and began to creep towards the stairs down, when I heard the faint sound of a footstep, and another… something was walking slowly around, stepping just lightly enough to make itself heard. And not a floor squeak to be heard, just quiet but distinctly audible footsteps. Crawling back under my fort and clutching a crayon for self defense - because what kid keeps an actual weapon upstairs like a baseball bat or something - I listened. And again, this thing wandered slowly around the rooms of the first floor, and again I resisted the urge to peek when it went below me. But then it made its way to the stairs to the second floor where I was, and began climbing them. I prayed to God to save me from Mr Spook, as it was a typical staircase and not very long, and even slowly, it was getting very close, almost to the last step…

When the phone downstairs rang. I jumped, clutching my waxy weapon to my cheek, afraid of what might happen. But a breeze immediately blew through the house, and something told me it was gone. So, figuring that my reasoning was sound, I tore downstairs to the empty first floor and answer the phone. It was one of my aunts, and I was breathless, and she asked in typical aunty cheer if I had run to the phone.

“Well… yeah…” I’m afraid I always sounded like my characters in real life.

“Is your mother there?”

“No, everyone’s gone.” I was still panting from my experience.

“Well, tell her I called, sweetie.”

“I will, I will!”

“Okay, bye bye!”

I hung up on her and thought of going outside where the world in general might be a little bit safer, just in case. Instead, I crept back up to my bed fort and sat on it, wondering what to do, and how I was going to explain this to mom when she came home. I’m beginning to have some sympathy for how dumb frazzled horror movie victims are.

It wasn’t long before I heard gravel popping in the driveway, and mom and my brothers had come back home. Breathless again, I decided to try and be scientific about this, so the first thing I told her when she was getting groceries out of the car was, “Mom! There was a ghost in the house!” So much for Mr Science, but frankly I didn’t know what else to tell her.

Naturally she wanted to know what happened, and in some detail, because I was always something of a detail freak, I told them all the things I had experienced, with the strange pauses between events. My younger brother chided me, “I thought you said there was no such things as ghosts.” I politely told him to shut up.

Mom was a bit perplexed, trying to figure out what had actually happened. “Well, honey, nothing looks disturbed. Are you sure a neighbor kid didn’t sneak in and try to scare you?”

“But the floors didn’t squeak! No one was on the stairs! And if they ran, they would make a racket!” I was determined that my account was one hundred percent accurate and there was no way shenanigans from anyone human was involved. And then she noticed that the basement light was on… and she was sure all the lights were off on such a sunny day when they left…

“Well… we’ll tell daddy when he comes home. Why don’t we go out for some ice cream?” And even though she’d just got groceries, I was in the mood for a jaunt away from home for a while, and evidently so was she. :sweat_smile:


I have a slight, amusing addendum to the thread.

A friend of my brothers and I kind of befriended each other, a guy originally from Denver named Jack who has been using me as a sort of helper as he repairs my deck. For way too long. That’s one of the joys of finding out that your carpenter is actually a drug casualty handyman… but I digress as usual.

So, he came over this morning to get food stamps going, using my phone, when what he should have been doing was getting a real job instead of these temporary gigs like my deck. Which I told him ahead of time I couldn’t afford, or afford to pay him. Which is ending up costing me $40 or $80 a week anyhow. Am I digressing again?

I figured as long as he was around to kind of sort of watch my back, I’d open the garage door to air the thing out, as gas fumes had settled into the thing. The garage doors are secured with bolts, and you have to undo them from the inside. No one has been in the house but me for almost a year. I keep it locked, and ADT kind of pushed me into getting an alarm system using enthusiastic college kids to sell it. And that’s another wonderful Bill Murrayish tale of my weird life. Short story is, the house is virtually impossible to casually get into. You’d have to break a window or something similar to get inside, and then deal with an alarm.

As I was airing the garage out, Jack came around to ask if I’d barter a kitchen table for one of mom’s old rockers in the garage. I told him I’d think about it (probably no, but we’ll see). As he was nosing around, he spotted my niece’s bike she had left there, the dysfunctional one with the torturer of a boyfriend. It was a light blue one. He said to me, “Woah, hey, you’ve been telling me for months you’re gonna get a bike, and you got one right here!”

“Oh, no, that’s my niece’s bike she left here,” I said without paying attention to it.

“But this is a guy’s bike,” he insisted.

And I insisted, “No, it’s a girl’s…” And my voice trailed off.

It was a guys bike, not a girl’s. It was deep red, not bright blue. He pointed to the wheels. “And it’s barely been ridden. It still has the rubber whiskers on the tires!”

There was no way that bike could be there. I can swear when I was nosing around the garage a couple of months ago, that bright blue girl’s bike was right there. But it was gone. On top of that, I found a lawnmower next to that old rocking chair last year, except now it was nowhere to be found either. What the hell??

I have no clue how all that happened… dun dun dun:no_mouth: