Thursday 24 November 2016

Knock By Creepypasta

We all have that one story, don’t we? The one you grow up thinking about, but never actually grow the balls to tell anyone. Well this is my story. I don’t know what I’m hoping to accomplish by telling you. Maybe I’m looking for someone to tell me that I’m not insane, or maybe once I put it on paper it will…Hell, I don’t know. Just someone read this…just please.
Let me give you a little background. Twenty years ago when I was eight years old, still living with my mom. My friend Dave and I decided that we would brave “The House”. Now, The House was an abandoned two story home, that had been empty going on ten years, save for the occasional drug abuser that would sleep in it. However that’s not what made this particular house special. The standing rumor is what made it interesting.

For as long as I can remember adults in my neighborhood had told us, the children, that it was haunted. I’m sure it was just their way of getting us not to play in it though. Regardless, because of that, the house had a sort of ominous aura that hung around it. Just looking at that decaying building would give you the shivers. Although despite our inherent fear of the place, Dave and I decided we would explore this house We would become legends in our own right, at least that’s what we hoped.

It was Tuesday all those years ago, well past midnight, and both of our parents had fallen asleep. The two of us decided we would sneak out, you know, use the night as our cover. We agreed it would be best to meet up in front of The House. Still, I wish we hadn’t agreed to do it.

There I was…alone, waiting in front of The House for my friend. I couldn’t help but feel small when I looked at it. It might have been old, and the wood may have been rotting, but man did it look enormous. I bet even adults felt dwarfed by it. To keep myself from chickening out, I decided to think about something else while I waited; it was a little cold that night, which was the typical weather after a hard rain. “Ah, crap.” I muttered, noticing the mud that covered my shoes. I should have paid more attention to where I was stepping. “Mom is going to kill me when she…” my voice trailed off when I heard a dull thud from behind me. Sounded like someone knocked a door.

Was…was it the house, or was I just imagining things? I spun around expecting to see a hairy monster behind me, instead it was just The House; broken windows, splintered wood, and roof that had more than a few holes in it. Just the usual, nothing to panic about. I should have been relieved, but I found myself slightly shaken. Soon I would be stepping into one of the most feared places in our neighborhood. I wasn’t even inside yet, and I could already feel the slight tremor in my hand.

Before I could reconsider the mission Dave arrived. I quickly stuffed my hands into my pockets to hide the quiver. I could see his small figure bouncing up and down. The little jokester was skipping across the street. My fears were immediately replaced with giddy laughter. “You’re such a clown,” I managed to say in-between my giggles. We both reached out and shook hands, like his father had taught us. Luckily he didn’t notice the tremor.
Dave used his hands to smooth back his black hair, kind of like a greaser would in a cliched movie. “You ready for this?” He nodded towards the door. Typical Dave, he always tried to look cool. Whether it be riding his bike with no hands, or sneaking into an abandoned house, he never failed to give off the “I’m a badass” vibe.

I tried my best to sound nonchalant, “Only if you are, Davey.” The comment awarded me a slight snicker. Dave hated it when I called him Davey. He said it sounded girly, and that’s exactly why I used it. Rather than shoot a retort at me, he simply nudged me towards the house, and we began walking to the door. Our small feet made quiet echoes in the street, I was worried we might wake someone. If we had any doubts about what we were doing, that moment would have been the right time to bail out.

Of course, as per the norm, stupidity got the better of us. The second our feet hit the old steps, we knew there would be no turning back. “Think we should knock?” Dave joked. Seeing him act all cool somehow gave me courage, and so I knocked. What I heard made the hair on my neck stand at attention. The same thud I had heard from earlier reverberated through the door when my knuckles landed. I gulped loudly, but maintained an overall calm composure.

The two of us breathed in deeply, turned the door knob, and pushed the door open. We received a long drawn out creak as payment. I thought I was going to pee my pants, and Davey looked like he was about to shit a brick. Somehow we managed to keep our undies clean. It was dark, real dark. Neither one of had brought a flashlight, we didn’t want to accidentally wake up a neighbor by shining a light in their house. Given the circumstances, we decided it was best to use moonlight.

Our eyes were met with a dimly lit house, it took a minute to adjust to. The house was littered with trash, covered in graffiti, and was seemingly falling apart all over. And yet it didn’t seem as frightening as we were led to believe. Sure the darkness made it look spooky, but as I looked at the cracked marble floor, I couldn’t help but be reminded of my house. “Huh, this isn’t so bad.” It was me who broke the silence.

“Do you think the ghost will be pissed that we tracked mud in the house?” Dave laughed and pointed at the floor. Little footprints followed us all over the house. “Remind me to clean my shoes before I go back home.” I giggled at the thought. Here we are in the big spooky house, cracking jokes about muddy shoes. It was all fun and games. After familiarizing ourselves with the first floor – which consisted of an empty living room, a kitchen with rotted food in the cupboards, a bathroom with a disgusting toilet, and a curious looking locked door – we decided to explore the second floor.

We ascended the stairs together, Dave leading with his brave face on. The wooden stairs were old, much like the rest of the house, and each step left us wondering if it would collapse beneath us. “Think the ghost is up there?” I asked, half sincere.

Dave chuckled at the question, “Ghosts probably aren’t even real.” We had reached the end of the stairs, and were on the top floor. It wasn’t a big second story. Two hallways, one to the right and one to the left. Four rooms for the two of us to explore. “Let’s go left.” Dave suggested. So we went left, and into the first door on the right.

The door was already open, so we just peaked our heads in. The first thing I noticed was the hole in the roof. Moonlight was shining through it, and it gave us a faint light to survey the room with. It wasn’t a very kind room, actually it was kind of like my room. Probably big enough to have a bed, dresser, maybe a desk could fit in it too. We couldn’t see inside of the closet though, the light didn’t quite reach it. Dave looked at me, and I looked at him. “I bet there’s something cool in there. Let’s go look.” Dave suggested with a mischievous smile. Not sure what we were hoping for exactly. A treasure in a closet or something?
Just before I stepped into the room, I heard the familiar thud noise. The one that was made before, and when, I knocked on the door. My heart felt like it was going to stop. The noise was distant, but there was no mistaking it. My first instinct was to run, but I couldn’t leave Dave behind; he of course paid no mind to it. Hell, he was already in the room walking towards the closet. And it was at that moment that things went to hell, I never even had the chance to warn him.

The second Dave stepped foot in the center of the room, there was a frightening crack. He didn’t have time to react. The wood splintered, the ground beneath him gave way, and he fell through the floor. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Everything in front of me was crashing down. The wood was so old and decayed that it couldn’t even support Davey. Dust and dirt flew everywhere, by the time it was over, it was hard to breathe. Wait…Dave didn’t make a sound. Did he die on impact? Was he okay? My mind had never asked raced so faced. “Dave!” I shouted in-between coughs. “Dave are you okay?!” I repeated the question a few more times, and waited. After an agonizing minute I got my response.
“I’m okay,” he answered weakly. “Not a scratch on me.” I peered down the large hole that was now in front of me. Dust was everywhere, but as it cleared I could see him more clearly; there was Dave and he was completely intact. “And guess where I am?” I sighed deeply, glad that he hadn’t lot his sense of adventure. “I’m in the locked room, get down here, I’ll open the door for you.” He wiped the dirt off of his forehead and motioned for me to come down. I obediently turned around and headed for the stairs, preferring to take the safe route down.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs I noticed something odd. Were those big footprints always there? Two frighteningly large footprints had been left on the floor. There was something odd about them though…they didn’t look human. Too big, four toes, and they were round. My imagination quickly got the better of me, and I could feel the panic rising quickly. I was starting to feel nauseous, even more so when I realized the footsteps were leading to the room that Dave was in. I glanced at the front door, it was open. I could leave right now, run home, and tell my parents to call the police; we didn’t have cell phones back then. But I didn’t do any of that, I just kept walking towards the locked room.

The door was open, and I could see shadows dancing on the door frame. There were two shadows, one big one small. The larger shadow was pounding into the smaller one. I could hear the blows landing. Thump…thump, thump thump. Each time it hit, Dave would whimper. I was frozen in place. The door was only a few feet away, but I couldn’t bring myself to take another step. I wanted to save my friend, but I just couldn’t move. I could only stand there and watch the shadows. “Please..sto-” Smash. The last hit was harder than any of the others ones, I could hear the bones break from where I was standing. Dave’s shadow stopped moving. The larger shadow picked up the frail little body, and began slashing into it with what looked like a blade. A dark liquid splashed onto the door, and started oozing towards the floor. I wanted to puke.

I could feel hot liquid running down my pants. Must have been scared enough to piss myself. I looked at the floor and saw the puddle that I had made. It was time to leave. I took one last glance at the door, and what I saw when I looked up still haunts me today. A large humanoid figure stood in the door way holding Dave’s body. It was too dark to see it clearly, but I got a peak at its eyes; its big blue eyes. Big and blue like the ocean, and the waves were rippling with rage.

I wanted to leave. No, I needed to leave but my legs refused to move. They were anchored to the floor, fear had stopped them completely. My heart on the other hand was moving, it was moving very fast. Reluctantly I stood there…staring at the monster that was holding my dead friend. It didn’t take long for our eyes to meet. We stood there in a eternal staring contest, I was too afraid to blink. I remember thinking that if I closed my eyes I would never open them again.

It was only after two long minutes that I could finally feel my legs again, so I slowly took a step back. The monster mimicked my movements by stepping forward each time I took a step back. My heart sunk when I realized what it was doing. Every molecule in my body was telling me to turn around and sprint, but could I really outrun this monstrosity? No, there was no way. I decided to keep my pace, buy myself time until I got to the door.
Once we reached the living room it dropped Dave, outstretched its arms towards me, and grinned. It was the single most wicked thing I had experienced in my life. The monster’s grin, from corner to corner, reached both of its eyes. His teeth were long, white, like a shark. We were almost at the door, but he was no longer mimicking my steps.

For each step I took, he took two. Step by step he was closing the gap. The moonlight from the window shined on his outstretched arm. Its hand was human-like, only there was something off about it. The nails were long, the skin was rotted, and some of the flesh looked like it had scratched off. It was enough to make me dizzy. Soon I could hear it breathing. Each breath was labored, it was almost wheezing. One more step and I would see its entire body in the moonlight. I didn’t want that.

The thought alone was enough to make me turn, grab the door knob, throw it open, and rush out of the house. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder until there was some distance between the two of us. I expected to turn around and see the monster lumbering after me, but surprisingly it wasn’t. The monster never came out of the house. It didn’t chase me down the street. It didn’t rip me to pieces. It just stood there, on the porch, waving goodbye. Its malformed hand slowly rocking back and forth, with the same deranged smile on its face.
A few days later, when the police report was made public, my parents told me that the monster was, “Just a hobo on drugs.” The police had found Dave’s body next to a dead homeless man. Apparently he had overdosed shortly after I had left. I try to tell myself that I was just imagining things, and that there was no monster, but I don’t know what to believe. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, I can’t get that fucking smile out of my head. I’m done with this, if I write anymore I’ll start having nightmares again. Food’s here anyway, I just heard a knock at the door.

Monday 8 June 2015

Blackbeard's Ghost

A North Carolina Ghost Story 
retold by
S. E. Schlosser
The nefarious pirate Blackbeard (who's real name was Edward Teach) was a tall man with a very long black beard that covered most of his face and extended down to his waist. He tied his beard up in pigtails adorned with black ribbons. He wore a bandolier over his shoulders with three braces of pistols and sometimes he would hang two slow-burning cannon fuses from his fur cap that wreathed his head in black smoke. Occasionally, he would set fire to his rum using gunpowder, and he would drink it, flames and all. Many people thought he was the Devil incarnate.
For twenty-seven months, Blackbeard terrorized the sailors of the Atlantic and the Caribbean, ambushing ships and stealing their cargo, killing those who opposed him, often attacking in the dim light of dawn or dusk when his pirate ship was most difficult to see. He would sail under the flag of a country friendly to the nationality of the ship he was attacking, and then hoist his pirate flag at the last moment. When prisoners surrendered willingly, he spared them. When they did not, his magnanimity failed. One man refused to give up a diamond ring he was wearing and the pirate cut the ring off, finger and all. Once Blackbeard blockaded Charleston, South Carolina with his ships, taking many wealthy citizens hostage until the townspeople met his ransom. Later, Blackbeard ran one of his ships - the Queen Anne's Revenge - aground. Some say he did it on purpose because he wanted to break up the pirate fleet and steal the booty for himself.
In November of 1718, Blackbeard retreated to his favorite hideaway -- called Teach's Hole -- off Ocracoke Island. There, he hosted a wild pirate party with drinking, dancing and large bonfires. The party lasted for days, and several North Carolina citizens sent word to Governor Alexander Spotswood of Virginia. Governor Spotswood immediately ordered two sloops, commanded by Lieutenant Robert Maynard of the Royal Navy, to go to Ocracoke and capture the pirate.
On November 21, 1718, Maynard engaged Blackbeard in a terrible battle. One of Maynard's ships were between Blackbeard and freedom. Blackbeard sailed his ship - the Adventure - in towards shore. It looked like the pirate was going to crash his ship, but at the last second the ship eased through a narrow channel. One of the pursuing Navy ships went aground on a sand bar when they tried to pursue the Adventure. Blackbeard fired his cannons at the remaining ship and many of Maynard's men were killed. The rest he ordered below the deck under cover of the gun smoke, hoping to fool the pirates into thinking they had won. When the pirates boarded the ship, Maynard and his men attacked the pirates.
Outnumbered, the pirates put up a bloody fight. Blackbeard and Maynard came face to face. They both shot at each other. Blackbeard's shot missed Maynard, but Maynard's bullet hit the pirate. Blackbeard swung his cutlass and managed to snap off Maynard's sword blade near the hilt. As Blackbeard prepared to deliver the death-blow, one of Maynard's men cut Blackbeard's throat from behind. Blackbeard's blow missed its mark, barely skinning Maynard's knuckles. Infuriated, Blackbeard fought on as the blood spouted from his neck. Maynard and his men rushed the pirate. It took a total of five gunshots and about twenty cuts before Blackbeard fell down dead.
Maynard seemed to think that the only way to ensure that Blackbeard was dead was to remove his head. They hung the head from the bowsprit and threw the pirate's body overboard. As the body hit the water, the head hanging from the bowsprit shouted: "Come on Edward" and the headless body swam three times around the ship before sinking to the bottom.
From that day to this, Blackbeard's ghost has haunted Teach's Hole, forever searching for his missing head. Sometimes, the headless ghost floats on the surface of the water, or swims around and around and around Teach's Hole, glowing just underneath the water. Sometimes, folks see a strange light coming from the shore on the Pamlico Sound side of Ocracoke Island and know that it is "Teach's light". On night's that the ghost light appears, if the wind is blowing inland, you can still hear Blackbeard's ghost tramping up and down and roaring: 'Where's my head?
'
You can read more North Carolina ghost stories in Spooky South by S.E. Schlosser.

Friday 24 April 2015

Swept Over: Ghosts of the Lower Falls


Sended by Mac Eleven


 Excerpted from Spooky Yellowstone
Retold by S.E. Schlosser 
Lower Falls: Yellowstone National Park     Today the water drums of the Lower Falls in Yellowstone National Park beat strongly, just as they did back in 1870 when the story which became a legend first took place.  In those days, a group of five militia men and their Crow guide who decided to explore the little known Canyon of the Yellowstone.  The explorers penetrate deep into the canyon region, keeping an eye out for signs of gold while they explored.
     On the morning of April 2, the expedition paused in the foothills to sink a hole into a likely spot, having seen promising signs of ore. When their Crow guide told them there was a small band of Native Americans he identified as Sheep Eaters were camped four miles upstream, they were not unduly distressed. They had plenty of advanced weaponry among them, enough to take on a small native band if it decided to attack.

That night, the Native American tribesmen ran off with the explorer’s pack horses. When the theft was discovered at daylight, the white men pursued the thieves into the precipitous mountains. The tribesmen had a four-hour head start on the explorers, but the white men were fewer in number and gained rapidly on their quarry. 
After three hours of hard riding, the explorers came suddenly upon the tribe. They were crossing the river just above the Lower Falls aboard a hastily constructed raft of driftwood held together with thongs made of buckskin and buffalo robes. A circle of men sat with their weapons at the center of the unwieldy raft while the women paddled desperately for the opposite shore with wide pieces of bark. The stolen pack horses were swimming beside the raft, which was swept precariously downstream in spite of the rowers’ best efforts.

The watching explorers realized that the river current was too strong for the unwieldy craft. The paddlers were fighting a losing battle to reach the opposite bank. The horses had a better chance of success. Four of them were already climbing the bank on the far shore. Beside the explorers, the Crow guide calmly raised his rifle and fired at the retreating band. One of the braves gave a yell of pain, and an explorer cried, “For God’s sake, boys, don’t murder them—they are bound to go over the falls!” 
At that moment, the raft was caught in an eddy and sank an inch or two below the surface so that the men and women aboard her appeared to be sitting on top of the river like water spirits or the ancient gods. It was an eerie sight. The spell was broken when a brave fired an arrow through the arm of the Crow guide. With an angry yelp, the Crow guide fired again into their midst, wounding a second warrior. The explorers had to tie up their guide to prevent him from shooting more members of the doomed band. 
The raft moved swiftly toward the edge, carrying the wailing women and the unmoving braves, who began chanting a soft death-song. The warriors gazed calmly toward the lip of the falls, where the water disappeared so abruptly with a roar like thunder. Their courage in the face of sure death silenced the watching explorers. One by one, the white men raised their hats in salute to the brave warriors below as the raft, still intact, sailed out over the lip of the falls and disappeared into the roaring white foam with its human cargo.
In that heart-wrenching moment, two large eagles flew over the roaring mouth of the precipice, screaming their defiance as the water thundered like drums on the jagged rocks far below. It was a fitting tribute to the bravery of the dead tribesmen below. With many backward glances, the white explorers turned their horses away from the river and rode away.
To this day, people who stand on the platform at the brink of the Lower Falls of Yellowstone sometimes hear the voices of the chanting warriors singing their death song.  And the river water sometimes flows with a red tinge, like that of blood.
Read more Yellowstone ghost stories by S. E. Schlosser in Spooky Yellowstone

Friday 28 November 2014

She was brand-new history teacher to the school and had been preparing her first lesson in her mind for weeks. This was her very first teaching job, and she wanted it to go well. The night before classes began, she couldn't eat and tossed and turned restlessly all night. Up early, she was in her new classroom, sweeping the floor, tidying the desks, and putting up welcome signs just after dawn.

 Finally -- FINALLY -- the first bell rang and her very first class came rushing in through the door. They were eager and lively and full of high spirits. She felt her heart lift at the sight of their fresh faces, and soon a lively dialogue between teacher and new students was established. They liked her, she could tell. And they were smart too. She tossed review questions lightly at them to see how much information they'd retained from the previous grade, and they were prompt to answer. And most of the answers were correct. One particular lad, sitting in one of the front desks, was particularly knowledgable about history. She was impressed by his answers, and more impressed by the fact that he did not push himself forward as the class "know it all". He answered quickly and quietly, and let others take their turns.

 He had bright blue eyes and curly dark hair, and his smile was impish. He smiled alot, soaking in information like a sponge. The teacher smiled at him and tossed out another history question, seemingly at random, which he answered promptly after a pause indicated no one else knew how to respond.At that moment, the bell rang. The teacher smiled as she heard it. Her very first class of her very first day as a teacher had been a success. Then, to her surprise, the curly-haired boy in the front row got up promptly from his seat and hurried toward the door of the class room without waiting for her to dismiss the class.

That seemed strange, after his polite behavior during the class. She opened her mouth to reprimand him and then gasped as he walked straight through the wall beside the door and vanished. The teacher felt her eyes widen and her mouth go dry in shock. Around her, the living students exclaimed in shock and fear.

"Did you see?" shrieked one of the girls.

"Did you see? He went right through the wall!"

"A ghost! He was a ghost," the boy sitting next to the ghost shouted, banging the desk in his agitation.  

There was pandamonium in the room for about five minutes while the students from the first class exclaimed in excitement and fear while the students filing in for the next class tried to figure out what was going on. The teacher sat on the edge of her desk feeling faint and dizzy. It wasn't until a student brought her a drink of water that she recovered herself enough to dismiss the first class and welcome in the second. The new teacher found out over lunch with her colleagues that the school building had the reputation for being haunted by the ghosts of students who had died too young. Footsteps were heard after hours. Janitors reported the sounds of children talking and laughing inside darkened classrooms, and sometimes felt invisible presences rushing down the empty hallways. But she was the first teacher to see a ghost student in her classroom.

The new teacher exited the school after her first day in a thoughtful mood. So, this was teaching. Eager students, belligerant students, funny students, and one ghost. "I wonder what day two will bring?" she asked aloud, and then shrugged and went home to dinner.

Thursday 3 April 2014

My Grandpa Wakes Up At Four




Hi everyone, i am Mac Eleven. I know it got nothing with my story but it would be better if i start it with it...

Last yeat in summer i was in my granny's home. It is nice and really a great place to live, but juat not that night....

It was my grandpa's funeral ceremony. He passed away just an year ago. It was sad to see him go because he was a great person. He helped everyone. In the locality he was known by 'Grandpa'. My family cried a lot on his death but my tears didn't fell an inch.

It was night. Everyone was sleeping. I could not sleep because of the nightmares. But i was used to them. I had them since childhood. I am a young bou now but still can't control on them. I woke up and rushed for my tumbler of water but it was empty. I went to my kitchen to fill it up. The hallway was really cool. It was strange since it was summer. I kept it on the kitchen floor and started rubbing my arms. It was bloody chill there.

I drank it all in a tok. As i was going, i looked a the clock. That was when i came to sense that it was 4 o' clock in the morning. The time grandpa usually used to wake up. I began my steps towards my room but at once i saw something strange...

The gate of my grandpa's room slowly began to open. My breath stopped. I could feel my heart sink. I thought i am going to die soon...

By taking a deep breath i kept my right forward but things got worse. I could now hear a sound saying,'God Bless Us'. The sentence my Grandpa used to say everytime. He said it at lunch, at eve and everywhere. 

The voice came from the inside of that room. I was shivering harder and harder. The only thing left to make it worst was that door completely opening. I tried to run from their shouting and howling but i could not. It felt like my legs were stuck their. I was just going to die. I looked at my back. Hey! The clock was stuck at 4!!!

I was completely gone. Tears were crashing from my eyes. At once.., a really cold breeze blown away from me and i fainted. I fell really hard on the ground...

At morning i woke up. My head was really heavy. Everyone was surrounding me. My mom asked me, 'what were you doing here and why did you slept on the ground?'. I was about to tell what happened to me but i was really shocked to see that the gate was closed and it was having a lock on it...

My family took me inside. I gulped a glass of water and slept again...

It's been more than an year to this incident. I haven't told anything to my family about it. I do visit my granny's house but all that incident never ever, ever happened again...


Mac Eleven

Aren't You Glad I Am Too Late




She was shivering, shivering badly. Down the streets she was coming closer, closer to it and at once......
'KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK'
'Hey Suzen you are late...' said Jessica.
This girl walking down the streets was Suzen. It was her own birthday but she was terribly late. The girl who opened the door was Jessica, Suzen's close friend.
Suzen went to Change herself upstairs in her room. Gossips began in the hall. Everyone was chatting about her being late. Some said she was with someone and some said she didn't wanted to come because she did not like us but truth was still unknown.
Just after a second or two, someone knocked on the door. A girl went to open it and everyone's heart dropped They could not believe their eyes...
Suzen was on the door!!!!!!


She rushed inside saying,'Sorry guys just got stuck in traffic. I will be ready in a tick'.
'Hey just now you entered the room how are you outside?' A girl asked
'What???'
They explained everything to her. She was not able to believe it. She thought it was a prank. It was all good just until the knowledge of the fact that Jessica was missing. Everyone began to find her but nobody got her just before that ear bursting scream.
It came from Suzen's room. They rushed over their and everyone's heart came in their throat. They just fainted...
Jessica was lying in her own blood pool. But it wasn't the end. Something they saw was a diamond in the gold mine. On the wall a quote in blood was imprinted saying,
"AREN'T YOU GLAD I'M TOO LATE..."




Mac Eleven


Tuesday 4 February 2014

All of My Ghost Stories



I honestly don't have many stories because I haven't had many experiences, but some were just scary as shit.

At my house, since its so small there was one legit bedroom, an attic and a really small loft about 4' by 7' which my mum made into bedrooms as well. But anyway, aside from my dog, I was home alone and it was a normal night.

I had just smoked a bowl, went inside and then made myself some munches. So my dog was just chilling by my side and I heard someone ran down the attic, then heard a strange sound like a slapping bare feet against the wooden ladder and right into the kitchen. And it was like someone running really fast too. So then it was headed right into the kitchen and the final footstep ended right between my feet. But no one was there. I blacked out in fear and ran out of the house. I had ran about a block and a half away from home until I finally started to get a grasp on reality.

:I have also had a pretty crazy experience with EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) (and trust me,I was sober for this one). I play guitar and I am very dedicated to it. So anyway, I was gonna play guitar, so I hooked up my amp (which was given to me by Blair, my step mom's dad who died of cancer about a year and a half ago), plugged in my pedal, turned up the volume and before I got the chance to plug in my guitar. I heard a very distinct, static like, odd voice. But it was obviously coming from the amp. I turned it up and listened some more. It was like an old person's voice, but it certainly wasn't Blair's voice. And even though I couldn't understand what the person was saying, it sounded like it was reviewing some sort of plan. That made me go acoustic for about a month, ha-ha. Aside from that, just a bunch of shit, that's pretty minor, but enough to freak you out (shit moving, slamming doors, weird shit with television, etc.). My stories might sound pretty lame, I guess, but unlike a bunch of attention whores who make up a bunch of shit that's obviously fake, I'm speaking from actual events.


Mac Eleven