T
CLASSIC: What's the spookiest / wierdest / most chilling thing that's ever happened to you?
A
Alphahelix
Guest
I lost my grandad on 7th of Febuary 2007, I was in work at the time and one of the lads came to tell me that I had a phone call, i knew it was bad news because I rarely get calls at work like that. I was in on a scheduled maintenance shut, so I was doing a job that only gets done occasionally, the relevance of which will become apparent. Any way, the call was my wife, telling me the bad news, which came as a surprise. It is may sons birthday on 6th Febuary and my grandad had been to our house, this was the first time he had left his own home in 18 months, spent a great afternoon with all the family, and left in a chipper mood, telling us he would be visiting again soon.
You have to wonder, did he know he was on his way off this mortal coil? Is this why he chose to leave his house for the first time in 18 months? Did he know that it would be his last chance to see all the family together at one time? Probably not, it's most likely a huge coincidence, but you never know.
Strangest yet, I was in work on the 7th of Febuary this year (2008), working on the same scheduled maintenance shut as the previous year, at pretty much the same time as the previous year I was doing the same job as I was when I got the phone call, I told the lad with me what had happened the previous year when I was carrying out this particular task, and as I finished, all the lights went out leaving us in total darkness, they came back on after a few seconds, but it freaked my mate a bit who was convinced I had told him the tale and knocked the lights out for effect, only the lights can't be turned out, they're on a permanent supply, its in a huge machine house basement and there is never any daylight in there, so the lights are on permanently.
I like to think it was my grandad listening to my conversation, and proving that even in the afterlife, he still has the wicked sense of humour he always had, and he was trying to shit me up.
You have to wonder, did he know he was on his way off this mortal coil? Is this why he chose to leave his house for the first time in 18 months? Did he know that it would be his last chance to see all the family together at one time? Probably not, it's most likely a huge coincidence, but you never know.
Strangest yet, I was in work on the 7th of Febuary this year (2008), working on the same scheduled maintenance shut as the previous year, at pretty much the same time as the previous year I was doing the same job as I was when I got the phone call, I told the lad with me what had happened the previous year when I was carrying out this particular task, and as I finished, all the lights went out leaving us in total darkness, they came back on after a few seconds, but it freaked my mate a bit who was convinced I had told him the tale and knocked the lights out for effect, only the lights can't be turned out, they're on a permanent supply, its in a huge machine house basement and there is never any daylight in there, so the lights are on permanently.
I like to think it was my grandad listening to my conversation, and proving that even in the afterlife, he still has the wicked sense of humour he always had, and he was trying to shit me up.
In '76 I was swimming off the coast in San Diego when I realised the current had drifted me hundreds of yards away from the shore. If I had been wearing underwear they would have turned brown. I thought, I've got to put my head down and try to swim to shore or I'm fucked. I literally thought this could be the end.
Luckily I made it. I think the fright engaged the adrenelin which added to my energy levels ('cos normally I'm a lazy fucker).
I also fell asleep once driving back to London from a night game at OT. I did a Keystone Cops and drove halfway up the bank at 80 mph on the M1 Southbound. Never fallen asleep again since then but at least I know my limits.
Luckily I made it. I think the fright engaged the adrenelin which added to my energy levels ('cos normally I'm a lazy fucker).
I also fell asleep once driving back to London from a night game at OT. I did a Keystone Cops and drove halfway up the bank at 80 mph on the M1 Southbound. Never fallen asleep again since then but at least I know my limits.
Fangzhuo's 3inch Dong
Tramp
- Messages
- 4,066
Before my oldest brother got married to his ex they bought a house a few miles away from where i was living with my mum and dad.
After about 6 months him and his missus told me about some eerie things happening. Strange noises things getting moved objects getting broken etc. Now both my brother and his missus were very straight-laced non-religious kinda people but they talked about getting the place exorcised and even asked the neighbours if the previous owners mentioned similar events (which they hadn't).
Not long before the wedding things got worse as his missus started to have vivid nightmares, something that she had never had before, the worst one being woken up to find a dag on top of her bed snarling at her an inch from her face. (would definitely shit me up)
Anyway after they got married they went away on honeymoon. They asked my other brother if he wanted to house sit for them as he had recently come back from uni and was living at my folks place as well. As he'd been away he didn't know about what had been going on and my brother and his missus asked me not to mention it to him. They obviously wanted to see if it was just happening to them and didn't want to put any subconscious thoughts into his head.
Obviously on their return the first thing they asked him was if anything strange happened. He told them one night as he was having a shower the curtain wrapped itself round him really tight and he struggled to get free (could have been static i guess) but as this was happening he heard a crashing noise. All of the toiletries, mirror, toothbrushes etc had been thrown onto the floor he knew it wasn't him that done it because the sink was on the other side of the room and the window was shut. Even worse was when he mentioned a spooky dream about waking up and having a dag snarling in his face!
Fucked me right up that did and hated going round there after that.
After about 6 months him and his missus told me about some eerie things happening. Strange noises things getting moved objects getting broken etc. Now both my brother and his missus were very straight-laced non-religious kinda people but they talked about getting the place exorcised and even asked the neighbours if the previous owners mentioned similar events (which they hadn't).
Not long before the wedding things got worse as his missus started to have vivid nightmares, something that she had never had before, the worst one being woken up to find a dag on top of her bed snarling at her an inch from her face. (would definitely shit me up)
Anyway after they got married they went away on honeymoon. They asked my other brother if he wanted to house sit for them as he had recently come back from uni and was living at my folks place as well. As he'd been away he didn't know about what had been going on and my brother and his missus asked me not to mention it to him. They obviously wanted to see if it was just happening to them and didn't want to put any subconscious thoughts into his head.
Obviously on their return the first thing they asked him was if anything strange happened. He told them one night as he was having a shower the curtain wrapped itself round him really tight and he struggled to get free (could have been static i guess) but as this was happening he heard a crashing noise. All of the toiletries, mirror, toothbrushes etc had been thrown onto the floor he knew it wasn't him that done it because the sink was on the other side of the room and the window was shut. Even worse was when he mentioned a spooky dream about waking up and having a dag snarling in his face!
Fucked me right up that did and hated going round there after that.
red iguana
Tramp
- Messages
- 28,745
I've remained pretty unaffected reading most of these but i've just had to jump up and put the light on after reading that one
. I'd never go round there again. I just have to dismiss all these things as a load of shit or i'd never sleep at night.Fangzhuo's 3inch Dong
Tramp
- Messages
- 4,066
I've remained pretty unaffected reading most of these but i've just had to jump up and put the light on after reading that one
Sorry mate
They have since split up and moved on but i still live in the area and have to go right past the front door on the bus to work every day. Always makes me uneasy.
fucking cunt, am shitting myself now.
C
Cockney Red
Guest
When I was about 14, whenever my dad was away on business and never when he was home, there was someone sneaking about outside our house....anyway, one night my mum was upstairs in the bath, I was downstairs and the back window was steamed up. For some reason I went to it to wipe away the steam and there was some guy staring right at me, his face pressed against the glass
He was later caught and charged with sexual assault and admitted to being the person hanging round our house
How could you wipe away his steam from inside, when he was outside?
EricsRightFoot
Tramp
- Messages
- 3,779
Fuck off am I clicking that at 3am
i last read this thread on about page 13. everytime ive had the chance to its been dark and ive been on my own. today is the first time ive had the bottle to read on!.......its light outside.
Chev Chelios
Tramp
- Messages
- 17,854
This one messed me up as a kid to the point that i needed therapy for years after.
Anyway one night when i was 13 i woke feeling nauseous, i had mirrored wardrobes so i glanced over and to my horror realised i was my dad staring back at me i moved my right arm up and down and the image of my dad in the mirror mimmicked me. Now i was freaked and i was hoping this was just some wierd erotic dream i was having, beside myself the only way i thought i could verify this was a dream and not real was to obviously have sexual intercourse with my sleeping mother. So i sneaked in her room and began, i sort of blacked out and when i came round i was back on my bed.
The police blamed drugs but i knew it wasn't real, anyway the therapist said im all better now.
Anyway one night when i was 13 i woke feeling nauseous, i had mirrored wardrobes so i glanced over and to my horror realised i was my dad staring back at me i moved my right arm up and down and the image of my dad in the mirror mimmicked me. Now i was freaked and i was hoping this was just some wierd erotic dream i was having, beside myself the only way i thought i could verify this was a dream and not real was to obviously have sexual intercourse with my sleeping mother. So i sneaked in her room and began, i sort of blacked out and when i came round i was back on my bed.
The police blamed drugs but i knew it wasn't real, anyway the therapist said im all better now.
The girlfriend told me a good one a while back that she heard off a workmate.
Apparently her mate at work knows a family with a young child, about a year-18 months old. Anyway one evening the parents go out for the evening leaving their young one in the hands of the trusted local babysitter. Before they leave the mother had gotten the kid off to sleep so all that was left for the baby sitter to do was keep a listen out for the baby and look after the house while their out.
Shortly after they leave the kid starts crying so the babysitter goes up stairs calms her down and gets her off to sleep again. All's well for a while until the baby starts crying again, again the babysitter goes up stairs and gets her back to sleep. This time no sooner has she got down the stairs the baby starts crying again. Feeling a bit out of her depth the babysitter calls the parents to let them know the baby won't settle. In conversation with the mother she remembers breifly seeing a life size clown in the corner of the room, a bit spooky looking and thinks it might be upsetting the baby. She tells the mother this and after a deathly pause the mother tells the baby sitter they do not own a toy clown.
Anyway the sitter ran back to the room grabbed the baby and ran striaght out the house to a neighbours. They call the police who came round and find some nut, who had recently escaped from a mental house, sitting in the baby's room dressed as a clown.
dont care if its not true, its still freaky as fuck
D
DrTurkleton
Guest
John McLane
Tramp
- Messages
- 5,238
I know you lot with think Im full of shit but when reading these posts yesterday afternoon I kept hearing a thudding sound (not scratching) against my wall behind my computer.....then my bathroom light suddenly came on....wtf?????
sam0712
Senior Member
- Messages
- 7,271
Perhaps it was a message from the other side that you should stop spending so much time on RI and go and have a shower?
I know it sounds far-fetched, but it's the only rational explanation I can come up with.
John McLane
Tramp
- Messages
- 5,238
nastyoldmrpike
Tramp
- Messages
- 6,273
Never have I read so much unadulterated bullshit on this website! These stories make the mASSIVES forums and the dippers forums seem like bastions of truth and light in the world.
R
RedDevilMikee
Guest
Oooh, somebody has got their pantyhose in a bind today!
My mum and dad were staying in a bed and breakfast back in the late 70s in Tenby, Wales for a couple of nights.
The place was a creepy old guesthouse with paint peeling off the walls, squeaky floorboards, and a draught whistling through the window frames, it was like a horror film cliche.
An elderly lady was running it alone, it looked as if it had got too much for her.
Although disappointed, they felt a little sorry for her and decided to stay.
They had gone with my aunt and uncle who had a room on the first floor landing.
My mum and dad were directed past the landing and told to walk round the corner where they found a single door on its own at the end of a long narrow unlit corridor.
They dragged their cases to the room and shut the door behind them. My dad was a little perturbed to find three large bolts fitted on the back of the door in addition to the lock.
They later found out my aunt and uncle's just had a simple mortice lock.
Arriving home after a meal out, they bid goodnight and made their way to the room, but struggled to find a light switch.
Sometime in the early hours, my dad was awoken by someone rattling the door, furiously trying to get in. He said a bright white light was flooding underneath the door.
The noise was tremendous, it sounded like a 6ft rugby player trying to force his way in.
He shook my mum awake and the door rattled again, almost coming off its hinges.
He pulled the bedclothes up to his chin, (as you do) and shouted: ''Who's there?!!!''
The next bit still chills my spine whenever he tells me ..............
From behind the door, a little Welsh child's voice replied: 'It's meeeeee.'
They both went completely white and were literally scared rigid, unable to move. All my dad could manage to shout was: 'Er, you've got the wrong room!'
The door rattled again angrily and then the bright white light melted away and disappeared.
My dad said they both lay there terrified in the pitch black but within seconds, it began to get light outside and he heard the sound of a milkman's cart with the glass bottles clinking as it trundled past.
With that, he said the room was suddenly filled with an air of calm and the feeling of terror lifted.
They checked the corridor in the morning. There was no lightbulb in the corridor and no child was staying in the guesthouse.
The place was a creepy old guesthouse with paint peeling off the walls, squeaky floorboards, and a draught whistling through the window frames, it was like a horror film cliche.
An elderly lady was running it alone, it looked as if it had got too much for her.
Although disappointed, they felt a little sorry for her and decided to stay.
They had gone with my aunt and uncle who had a room on the first floor landing.
My mum and dad were directed past the landing and told to walk round the corner where they found a single door on its own at the end of a long narrow unlit corridor.
They dragged their cases to the room and shut the door behind them. My dad was a little perturbed to find three large bolts fitted on the back of the door in addition to the lock.
They later found out my aunt and uncle's just had a simple mortice lock.
Arriving home after a meal out, they bid goodnight and made their way to the room, but struggled to find a light switch.
Sometime in the early hours, my dad was awoken by someone rattling the door, furiously trying to get in. He said a bright white light was flooding underneath the door.
The noise was tremendous, it sounded like a 6ft rugby player trying to force his way in.
He shook my mum awake and the door rattled again, almost coming off its hinges.
He pulled the bedclothes up to his chin, (as you do) and shouted: ''Who's there?!!!''
The next bit still chills my spine whenever he tells me ..............
From behind the door, a little Welsh child's voice replied: 'It's meeeeee.'
They both went completely white and were literally scared rigid, unable to move. All my dad could manage to shout was: 'Er, you've got the wrong room!'
The door rattled again angrily and then the bright white light melted away and disappeared.
My dad said they both lay there terrified in the pitch black but within seconds, it began to get light outside and he heard the sound of a milkman's cart with the glass bottles clinking as it trundled past.
With that, he said the room was suddenly filled with an air of calm and the feeling of terror lifted.
They checked the corridor in the morning. There was no lightbulb in the corridor and no child was staying in the guesthouse.
and Solskjaer has won it
Tramp
- Messages
- 15,016
No but I bet the Krankies were.
nastyoldmrpike
Tramp
- Messages
- 6,273
Just get bored of having to debunk children's ghost stories and Ouija board occurrences. You rational people have no reason to believe the tripe on this thread!
D
Diego Greygo
Guest
Unfortunatly Grandad Greygo passed away a couple of days ago late (between 2300-2345) on 30th December 2008. As i had been unwell and not drinking I offered to take mum and dad to see Nanna as the rest of the family who were grieving roung at Grandads house where he still was, anyway, as Grandad and Nanna were very close the kids have been taking it in turns to stay over with Nanna for the forseeable future. The annual New Years Eve party at my mams had been cancelled and instead we had a few drinks low key. When mam phoned nanna to wish her happy new year, sometime after midnight, nanna was in the living room and the hands on old clock on the wall started swizzling round at speed whilst nanna was talking to my mum (bearing in mind this has never happened before in 40 years at the house) and stopped at the correct time after a while. Nanna was speechless as she was trying to explain what was going on to my mam on the phone.It was my mams turn to stay over last night and she slept in the living room and this happened again at around the same time, and she shit herself seriously. The spooky bit gets worse: My auntie was staying in the spare room uptairs where there is also a clock and exactly the same thing happened at exactly the same time. She ran downstairs just as the clock in the living room was finishing it last few rotations. This story may continue.....
- Messages
- 1,330
A couple of years or so ago, I made a trip to France. My father-in-law, along with his wife had bought a derelict property over there and whilst living there had restored it back to something like its former glory. During the process of him and his missus moving back to England, as a favour to him and an excuse for me to have a couple of days away, I'd agreed to borrow my brothers van, go over there and collect some of the stuff that he'd yet to bring back from the house, bits of furniture, tools and the like.
After a long drive, I'd arrived there mid afternoon and after grabbing something to eat I immediately helped myself to a glass of wine or three from his cellar. I spent the rest of the day loading up the van and admiring the beautiful house that he was leaving behind. It was a lovely house; typically French looking built in the early 1920's with lovely wooden shutters on the outside and big square rooms, cellar, attic, three big bedrooms and still loads of the original features such as the fire places and floor tiles in the hallway.
I'd finally got the van all loaded up by about seven o'clock and after showering I spent the rest of the evening sat on the balcony finishing off a bottle of wine and soaking up the hazy summers evening in this beautiful little French village. Watching the swallows take insects on the wing, accompanied by the fading buzzing of a thousand bees and the gentle baying of the cattle in the field at the end of the garden. Planning on an early start in the morning to make one of the afternoon ferries, I turned in for bed just after 11 o’clock, setting the alarm on my phone for 6:30 am and rolling out my sleeping bag on top of the double bed in the biggest of the three bedrooms. Tired from the wine and the driving I was away almost as soon as my head touched the pillow, sinking into a sound and deep comfortable sleep as I kicked at the zip on my sleeping bag on this sticky summer’s night. What happened next however, to this day still leaves me cold and fearful every time I turn out the light at night.
It must have been just gone 5 o’clock when I awoke and I didn’t wake gently. I suppose everybody has really vivid dreams from time to time, dreams that whilst you’re dreaming them seem utterly real and indistinguishable from reality. This was one of those dreams and it was the most horrible, chilling dream I’ve ever had.
There was screaming, a woman’s desperate screaming like it was being ripped from the pit of her stomach and shouting, men’s voices shouting but I couldn’t understand them. The screaming and shouting were all coming from the other side of a bedroom door and I was stood on the quarter landing of the stairs looking out of the window into the garden below. It was this house’s staircase, I can still remember the view from the window to this day, but the house was different, nothing specific but there was a red carpet on the stairs and the décor was different.
I remember climbing up the stairs heading towards the door but I never got to the door, the dream jumped. The next thing I knew there was crying and I’m stood inside a different bedroom to the one where the screaming was coming from before. At my feet lay the body of a young girl on a heavily blood stained rug and the crying is now all of a sudden much louder because a small blonde haired boy is cowering, terrified in a corner trying to escape me. In my dream I can see myself moving towards him, him screaming and me with a knife raised in my hand over the top of him.
Suddenly and with what was probably an audible intake of breath I jolted myself awake, but instead of just lying there for a moments calm whilst the mind tries to reassure you that what you’ve just experienced was in fact just a dream; I fell clean over in a heap on the floor. It took what must have been two or three full seconds before I knew what was happening, a few seconds when I couldn’t breathe. Like how you’d imagine it would be to drown and my head just couldn’t make any sense of what was happening, totally unable to process anything that had just happened or was even happening now. I was shivering when I finally managed to catch my breath and as I moved tentatively to pick myself up of the floor, I realized that I was no longer in the bedroom that I had gone to sleep in but was instead in the smallest of the three bedrooms at the rear of the house. I had been sleepwalking, something I have never done before or since. What I saw next however completely pushed me over the edge. As I picked myself up of the bedroom floor, there lying in the place that I had just fallen was a nine inch bread knife.
I’d had enough, I threw my clothes on and grabbed my stuff together; locked the house up, jumped in the van and I was gone. Tearing through the silent village as the sun came up, I didn’t stop till I reached the services on the toll road and started to pour coffee down my neck.
The dream was still seared into my mind, leaving me with a horrible, crushing sense of guilt. Guilt from a dream, guilt for something that I knew I hadn’t done or was even real but none the less couldn’t shake. I was also really shaken by the whole sleepwalking thing, particularly considering that I must have been all the way down stairs and back again to collect the knife. A knife for fucks sake, what if I’d tripped whilst sleep walking or worse still, god forbid, what if I’d been there with the missus and kids. This thought sent shooting icy daggers down the back of my neck. Fuck it, I just couldn’t think about it any more and I switched off, turning the radio up in the van to take my thoughts away from it. It was just one of those things, the effects of some dodgy wine and being over tired. These feelings must happen to people who sleep walk all the time, I reasoned. I put my foot down, lit a fag and started counting the kilometers down to Calais.
I arrived back at the Father-in-laws in England just after seven, after unloading the van I slumped in a chair at the kitchen table as he made me a brew. ‘Everything all right at the house?’ he piped up as he lowered himself into the chair opposite. I mulled the occurrences over in my mind, debating whether or not to say something. By now I’d managed to convince myself that it was just one of them things. An over vivid nightmare coupled with a first experience of sleepwalking, scary, unsettling, yes but supernatural no, I didn’t think so. I thought about it for another moment, it was something I needed to explain to somebody just to put my own mind at rest and get it off my chest.
‘I had a bit of a funny dream’, I said, tentatively. ‘A dream…’ his words cut me off before I could go any further. ‘Yes, a dream’, I replied now curious about his interjection.
‘This dream…’ he went on, ‘…was there screaming? Shouting?’ He paused for a moment choosing his words carefully ‘....Children?’
My pulse was now racing. ‘Yeh’ I replied again, ‘horrible screaming, and the children….’ My mouth went dry, ‘…The little girl….she was…..she was dead and the boy, the blonde boy screaming in the corner, I……I….’ I couldn’t get the words out.
‘You sleepwalked too didn’t you? With the knife?’ he went on.
My head was now spinning and the electric thud of my heart beat was echoing around my body. ‘How did you know that? How could you even know that?’
There was a long pause before he delivered the words that came tumbling and crashing out onto the table ‘Because ‘I’ve had that dream too.’
My father-in-law had had the dream at least five or six times by his reckoning, every time the screaming, the sleepwalking, the knife. Friends of theirs who’d stayed at the house had also experienced the same thing, never the women though, only the men. Finally they’d resorted to padlocking the kitchen door shut at nights, better safe than sorry. Of the four cats that they had with them in France none of them would go any where near the small bedroom at the rear, sometimes they just stood on the landing staring at the door with their backs arched and hissing before fleeing away down the stairs to sulk at the bottom of the garden.
Finally he told me of the day he met Gerrard. Whilst preparing lunch one day there had been a knock at the door. Opening the door my father-in-law had been greeted by an elderly, French, gentlemen who’d introduced himself as Gerrard.
Inviting the man inside, through Gerrards broken English and my Father-in-laws pidgin French, Gerrard had explained how he was a retired architect from Paris who owned a small holiday home in a neighboring village. He told my Father-in-law that he had heard from a friend how an Englishman had restored this house, the house of his birth. Gerrard had lived in the house up until the end of the war when he had moved away to Paris.
Upon hearing this, my Father-in-law offered to give Gerrard a tour of the house and all was well until reaching the foot of the stairs when Gerrard’s mood suddenly changed. ‘Monsieur, Je remercie vous mais le non, Je ne veux pas aller là’ - ‘Thankyou sir but no, I do not want to go there.’Thinking that Gerrard was perhaps just being polite my Father-in-law tried again. Gerrard again declined, ‘Thankyou sir but no, I have not been there since and do not want to go there ever again.’ My father-in-law now confused but with half a mind on the reoccurring nightmare and why Gerrard like the cats felt uncomfortable about something at the top of the stairs, pressed a little more ‘Mais pourquoi monsieur?’. He told of how Gerrard now shaking, almost tearful pulled a small tattered black and white photo of a family from his wallet. A Mother, Father, a small girl and two little blonde haired boys sat in between them. Fighting back the anger in his voice Gerrard replied, ‘En raison du mal des Allemands’ – ‘Because of the evil of the Germans.’
With that and a shake of his walking stick he bade my Father-in-law farewell and was gone.
To this day I don’t know what happened in that house with either the Germans or the nightmares and the sleepwalking. I don’t think I’ll ever know or perhaps ever want to know. As it stands it’s just nightmares and coincidence, I prefer it that way.
Interestingly about eighteen months ago the house was finally sold to a retired couple from Devon. About three months ago however the house was placed back on the market, ‘Due to a family bereavement’ the advert said. Makes you wonder doesn’t it.
After a long drive, I'd arrived there mid afternoon and after grabbing something to eat I immediately helped myself to a glass of wine or three from his cellar. I spent the rest of the day loading up the van and admiring the beautiful house that he was leaving behind. It was a lovely house; typically French looking built in the early 1920's with lovely wooden shutters on the outside and big square rooms, cellar, attic, three big bedrooms and still loads of the original features such as the fire places and floor tiles in the hallway.
I'd finally got the van all loaded up by about seven o'clock and after showering I spent the rest of the evening sat on the balcony finishing off a bottle of wine and soaking up the hazy summers evening in this beautiful little French village. Watching the swallows take insects on the wing, accompanied by the fading buzzing of a thousand bees and the gentle baying of the cattle in the field at the end of the garden. Planning on an early start in the morning to make one of the afternoon ferries, I turned in for bed just after 11 o’clock, setting the alarm on my phone for 6:30 am and rolling out my sleeping bag on top of the double bed in the biggest of the three bedrooms. Tired from the wine and the driving I was away almost as soon as my head touched the pillow, sinking into a sound and deep comfortable sleep as I kicked at the zip on my sleeping bag on this sticky summer’s night. What happened next however, to this day still leaves me cold and fearful every time I turn out the light at night.
It must have been just gone 5 o’clock when I awoke and I didn’t wake gently. I suppose everybody has really vivid dreams from time to time, dreams that whilst you’re dreaming them seem utterly real and indistinguishable from reality. This was one of those dreams and it was the most horrible, chilling dream I’ve ever had.
There was screaming, a woman’s desperate screaming like it was being ripped from the pit of her stomach and shouting, men’s voices shouting but I couldn’t understand them. The screaming and shouting were all coming from the other side of a bedroom door and I was stood on the quarter landing of the stairs looking out of the window into the garden below. It was this house’s staircase, I can still remember the view from the window to this day, but the house was different, nothing specific but there was a red carpet on the stairs and the décor was different.
I remember climbing up the stairs heading towards the door but I never got to the door, the dream jumped. The next thing I knew there was crying and I’m stood inside a different bedroom to the one where the screaming was coming from before. At my feet lay the body of a young girl on a heavily blood stained rug and the crying is now all of a sudden much louder because a small blonde haired boy is cowering, terrified in a corner trying to escape me. In my dream I can see myself moving towards him, him screaming and me with a knife raised in my hand over the top of him.
Suddenly and with what was probably an audible intake of breath I jolted myself awake, but instead of just lying there for a moments calm whilst the mind tries to reassure you that what you’ve just experienced was in fact just a dream; I fell clean over in a heap on the floor. It took what must have been two or three full seconds before I knew what was happening, a few seconds when I couldn’t breathe. Like how you’d imagine it would be to drown and my head just couldn’t make any sense of what was happening, totally unable to process anything that had just happened or was even happening now. I was shivering when I finally managed to catch my breath and as I moved tentatively to pick myself up of the floor, I realized that I was no longer in the bedroom that I had gone to sleep in but was instead in the smallest of the three bedrooms at the rear of the house. I had been sleepwalking, something I have never done before or since. What I saw next however completely pushed me over the edge. As I picked myself up of the bedroom floor, there lying in the place that I had just fallen was a nine inch bread knife.
I’d had enough, I threw my clothes on and grabbed my stuff together; locked the house up, jumped in the van and I was gone. Tearing through the silent village as the sun came up, I didn’t stop till I reached the services on the toll road and started to pour coffee down my neck.
The dream was still seared into my mind, leaving me with a horrible, crushing sense of guilt. Guilt from a dream, guilt for something that I knew I hadn’t done or was even real but none the less couldn’t shake. I was also really shaken by the whole sleepwalking thing, particularly considering that I must have been all the way down stairs and back again to collect the knife. A knife for fucks sake, what if I’d tripped whilst sleep walking or worse still, god forbid, what if I’d been there with the missus and kids. This thought sent shooting icy daggers down the back of my neck. Fuck it, I just couldn’t think about it any more and I switched off, turning the radio up in the van to take my thoughts away from it. It was just one of those things, the effects of some dodgy wine and being over tired. These feelings must happen to people who sleep walk all the time, I reasoned. I put my foot down, lit a fag and started counting the kilometers down to Calais.
I arrived back at the Father-in-laws in England just after seven, after unloading the van I slumped in a chair at the kitchen table as he made me a brew. ‘Everything all right at the house?’ he piped up as he lowered himself into the chair opposite. I mulled the occurrences over in my mind, debating whether or not to say something. By now I’d managed to convince myself that it was just one of them things. An over vivid nightmare coupled with a first experience of sleepwalking, scary, unsettling, yes but supernatural no, I didn’t think so. I thought about it for another moment, it was something I needed to explain to somebody just to put my own mind at rest and get it off my chest.
‘I had a bit of a funny dream’, I said, tentatively. ‘A dream…’ his words cut me off before I could go any further. ‘Yes, a dream’, I replied now curious about his interjection.
‘This dream…’ he went on, ‘…was there screaming? Shouting?’ He paused for a moment choosing his words carefully ‘....Children?’
My pulse was now racing. ‘Yeh’ I replied again, ‘horrible screaming, and the children….’ My mouth went dry, ‘…The little girl….she was…..she was dead and the boy, the blonde boy screaming in the corner, I……I….’ I couldn’t get the words out.
‘You sleepwalked too didn’t you? With the knife?’ he went on.
My head was now spinning and the electric thud of my heart beat was echoing around my body. ‘How did you know that? How could you even know that?’
There was a long pause before he delivered the words that came tumbling and crashing out onto the table ‘Because ‘I’ve had that dream too.’
My father-in-law had had the dream at least five or six times by his reckoning, every time the screaming, the sleepwalking, the knife. Friends of theirs who’d stayed at the house had also experienced the same thing, never the women though, only the men. Finally they’d resorted to padlocking the kitchen door shut at nights, better safe than sorry. Of the four cats that they had with them in France none of them would go any where near the small bedroom at the rear, sometimes they just stood on the landing staring at the door with their backs arched and hissing before fleeing away down the stairs to sulk at the bottom of the garden.
Finally he told me of the day he met Gerrard. Whilst preparing lunch one day there had been a knock at the door. Opening the door my father-in-law had been greeted by an elderly, French, gentlemen who’d introduced himself as Gerrard.
Inviting the man inside, through Gerrards broken English and my Father-in-laws pidgin French, Gerrard had explained how he was a retired architect from Paris who owned a small holiday home in a neighboring village. He told my Father-in-law that he had heard from a friend how an Englishman had restored this house, the house of his birth. Gerrard had lived in the house up until the end of the war when he had moved away to Paris.
Upon hearing this, my Father-in-law offered to give Gerrard a tour of the house and all was well until reaching the foot of the stairs when Gerrard’s mood suddenly changed. ‘Monsieur, Je remercie vous mais le non, Je ne veux pas aller là’ - ‘Thankyou sir but no, I do not want to go there.’Thinking that Gerrard was perhaps just being polite my Father-in-law tried again. Gerrard again declined, ‘Thankyou sir but no, I have not been there since and do not want to go there ever again.’ My father-in-law now confused but with half a mind on the reoccurring nightmare and why Gerrard like the cats felt uncomfortable about something at the top of the stairs, pressed a little more ‘Mais pourquoi monsieur?’. He told of how Gerrard now shaking, almost tearful pulled a small tattered black and white photo of a family from his wallet. A Mother, Father, a small girl and two little blonde haired boys sat in between them. Fighting back the anger in his voice Gerrard replied, ‘En raison du mal des Allemands’ – ‘Because of the evil of the Germans.’
With that and a shake of his walking stick he bade my Father-in-law farewell and was gone.
To this day I don’t know what happened in that house with either the Germans or the nightmares and the sleepwalking. I don’t think I’ll ever know or perhaps ever want to know. As it stands it’s just nightmares and coincidence, I prefer it that way.
Interestingly about eighteen months ago the house was finally sold to a retired couple from Devon. About three months ago however the house was placed back on the market, ‘Due to a family bereavement’ the advert said. Makes you wonder doesn’t it.
Last edited:
bigredneville
Non-Tramp
- Messages
- 10,458
My Grandfather always used to tell us this story every Christmas after all the food was eaten and darkness crept in the topic always came around to ghost stories. My grandparents and their parents had had their fair share of supernatural experiences.
It was the year 1948 November my granddad Cyril Barry had just come out of the army he had fought for his country in Italy, North Africa and Holland during World War 2. He had spent the evening with some of his colleges at the legion Club in Street (Somerset). My grandfather admitted to having several drinks, but swears he was not drunk. He walked home alone his house was only 15 minutes away the time was 11.30pm when he left the club.
Most people had retired for the night, in 1948 with no television most people went to bed at 11.00pm. With no street lighting and very few house lights the walk home was almost in pitch blackness. The weather was also cloudy it had been raining so there was very little moonlight to navigate with. Halfway home my Cyril saw lights in the ground floor window of a house up ahead. Cyril decided he could do with a cigarette before he retired for the evening and as my grandmother wouldn't let him smoke in the house he had better have one now. Cyril decided to use the ambient light from the window to roll a cigarette. He lit the cigarette and turned and glanced through the window that he had his back to. The sight before him made the hairs on the back of this neck stand to attention, my grandfather had seen numerous horrors during the war but the sight before him scared him more than any of those.
Sat at a large table in a large crimson room was a person with a goats head, the head had two horns each about 10 inches in length. The goats head was white it also had a hairy beard, the thing did not seem aware of my granddad outside. My granddad could not see anyone else in the room the thing appeared to be alone. My granddad ran all the way home, scared out of his wits and told my grandmother what he had seen and she got scared she said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air' He whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror if anything he could say that this cab was rare but he thought 'Now forget it' 'Yo homes to Bel Air' He pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 and he yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later' He looked at his kingdom, he was finally there to sit on his throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
It was the year 1948 November my granddad Cyril Barry had just come out of the army he had fought for his country in Italy, North Africa and Holland during World War 2. He had spent the evening with some of his colleges at the legion Club in Street (Somerset). My grandfather admitted to having several drinks, but swears he was not drunk. He walked home alone his house was only 15 minutes away the time was 11.30pm when he left the club.
Most people had retired for the night, in 1948 with no television most people went to bed at 11.00pm. With no street lighting and very few house lights the walk home was almost in pitch blackness. The weather was also cloudy it had been raining so there was very little moonlight to navigate with. Halfway home my Cyril saw lights in the ground floor window of a house up ahead. Cyril decided he could do with a cigarette before he retired for the evening and as my grandmother wouldn't let him smoke in the house he had better have one now. Cyril decided to use the ambient light from the window to roll a cigarette. He lit the cigarette and turned and glanced through the window that he had his back to. The sight before him made the hairs on the back of this neck stand to attention, my grandfather had seen numerous horrors during the war but the sight before him scared him more than any of those.
Sat at a large table in a large crimson room was a person with a goats head, the head had two horns each about 10 inches in length. The goats head was white it also had a hairy beard, the thing did not seem aware of my granddad outside. My granddad could not see anyone else in the room the thing appeared to be alone. My granddad ran all the way home, scared out of his wits and told my grandmother what he had seen and she got scared she said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air' He whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror if anything he could say that this cab was rare but he thought 'Now forget it' 'Yo homes to Bel Air' He pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 and he yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later' He looked at his kingdom, he was finally there to sit on his throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
G
giggs11
Guest
Naturally, I don't believe it, but a good story nonetheless.
Well if so, the child would've shouted "FANDABBYDOZY!" nastyoldmrpike
Tramp
- Messages
- 6,273
What makes me laugh is how many of the stories people are alone! Ghosts will not worry groups! Have no fear!
T
The gammon kid
Guest
has to be said, this may all be total bullshit (this thread), but its a fucking good read.
that one abouot france above is top notch!
that one abouot france above is top notch!
jellyfish2007
Tramp
- Messages
- 17,494
I dont beleive in ghosts or people from the dead/afterlife - anyway my experience was way back in 84 when from school we went camping for a week someplace in the lake district
one of the kids bought a uiji board with him and we messaged about it with and it spelt out the name William somebody- made nothing of it, next morning we went on a long hike and went thru a graveyard and saw the grave of the person the was spelt out on the uioji board, others were shocked as for me didnt care a bit be it real or not .. still dont believe in all this ghost stuff..
one of the kids bought a uiji board with him and we messaged about it with and it spelt out the name William somebody- made nothing of it, next morning we went on a long hike and went thru a graveyard and saw the grave of the person the was spelt out on the uioji board, others were shocked as for me didnt care a bit be it real or not .. still dont believe in all this ghost stuff..
Fangzhuo's 3inch Dong
Tramp
- Messages
- 4,066
I reckon it was Gerrard who killed the girl.
She probably wouldnt change the record on the gramophone for him so he just started to lash out!
M
MrBishi
Guest
I might have missed something, but what's spooky about seeing someone on the same flight twice? There won't be that many planes making that journey, if you take that journey a few times then chances are other people will too.
One thing that always annoys me about ghost stories is why do these ghosts have to be so spooky? All these mysterious knockings in the night; you'd think one ghost, somewhere, might know Morse code for fuck's sake. Knock knock, knock-knock knock... "Hi everyone, grandad here, just letting you know I'm fine, glad to see young Danny is growing so well, tell Denise and Charles to stop arguing about the money. You'll love heaven, there's no foreigners. Bye."
If my nan were a ghost, there's no way she'd be haunting our house. She'd be right down the swimming baths pinching men's bums in the changing rooms.
I do believe that there's a lot we don't know about the way of the universe, but I am pretty skeptical about these things and usually find normal explanations for these stories (even if that explanation is "You're a mentalist"). The only genuinely spooky story I've ever had isn't very long winded, I was simply in the kitchen one night and just switched the light off and I knew, just knew, that someone else was in there, even though there wasn't. Living with my family I was the only man of the house and so pretty protective over the place, I remember initally being scared but quickly becoming very angry, shouting "Get out!" and then feeling alone again.
A couple of not-ghost stories, anyway... all these stories reminds me of one ex girlfriend, one of those spiritualist John-Edward-really-has-powers types. Anyway, she'd had this big black sheepdog through her childhood who she'd loved, they'd usually leave him outside overnight in his kennel. One night almost exactly a year after they'd had to put him down she was in her kitchen, looked into the back garden and there was just enough light to see there was a big black dag next to the kennel moving about. I was staying over as her 'rents were away, she comes into the bedroom crying convinced that her dead dag was haunting the garden. Anyway, I'm skeptical of course 'cos of her gullibleness (see above), but I go into the kitchen and sure enough I can see it too; I can still see it now moving about near the kennel.
By this time she'd convinced herself, for some reason, that her dag's spirit was restless and wanted its favourite toy, which they'd left in the cellar. She wanted me to go, of course, and so out I go, holding a squeaky toy that'd long ago lots its squeak to give to a ghost dag.
I get to the kennel and turned out it was a bin bag.
Oh, and if anyone around Urmston used to get really spooked by strange goings on in the early '00s, then sorry. Me and a mate used to work 'til after midnight most nights and then walk home and knock on people's houses. Not spooky, just annoying, but we decided it would be very funny (and it was very funny) to make it spooky - go down some back alleys, knock on the same back doors at the same time every other night. Sometimes we'd actually end up planning ahead and occasionally buy old woolly dolls and clowns from second hand shops to leave on back doorsteps, or pour ink from a red biro on the step.
We knew the family at one house we picked on well, so we knew it was working on them 'cos they were talking about all these scary goings on. It didn't help that one time when I went over, I breathed on their back window and bathroom mirror and wrote GET OUT, so next time it steamed up they'd read it.
I wank dags as a hobby
Tramp
- Messages
- 20,326
I reckon it was Gerrard who killed the girl.
She probably wouldnt change the record on the gramophone for him so he just started to lash out!
It was Chelsea
That's funny
My satellite system just turned itself off whilst I was reading this and fucked up, it's never done this before
I wank dags as a hobby
Tramp
- Messages
- 20,326
I've got a couple of weird ones (not spooky as such).
Was with a girl (I was cheating at the time, will explain later) and ended up in the back of my car in Epping Forrest at about 4 in the morning.
Whilst getting it on with said girl, I was on top and she (obviously underneath) could see over my shoulder and out of the window. Mid way through her screams of passion they went beyond the normal pitch and she screamed there's someone at the window !!! I turn around and there was a balaclavered face staring in at us
All I remember seeing was the breath on the window and the eyes through the holes in the balaclava !! I was pretty young at the time and didn't know what the fuck to do apart from jump up and go ballistic, Whoever it was ran off into the forest. The girl started laughing and was calling the guy (?) a dirty pervert and didn't appear to be as shaken up as me, I was fucking trembling and started to try and get dressed !! It was starting to get light at this time and (this was straight out of a horror movie) there was mist coming off the long grass we were parked next to.
A few moments later I look back out of the window and this fucking great big lump in camourflage gear starts to rise out of the long grass and is coming towards the car ! I jumped between the seats and started the car as quickly as I could and got out of there before he reached the car.
On the way home the girl said to me that she was now scared thinking about what could of happened (I suppose the shock was setting in). She said we should go to the Police, I didn't want to do this as I was worried it would get back to the current girlfriend and I would be in deep shit.
I still think about this from time to time and know I should have reported it all those years ago, but I was very young. I have heard of many stories of all sorts of things happening in the forest where we were and it does make me wonder !
********************************************
And the second (A bit gay, short and sweet !!)
I was fast asleep a couple of years ago and it was one of those really hot evenings. I had been on the piss all day and had collapsed on the sofa leaving the back door open (no wise cracks !).
I was having some really weird fucked up dream when I remember something wet licking my face. I woke up and there was a fox staring at me sitting on my living room carpet in front of me !! I don't know who jumped quicker !! Cheeky little fucker
Was with a girl (I was cheating at the time, will explain later) and ended up in the back of my car in Epping Forrest at about 4 in the morning.
Whilst getting it on with said girl, I was on top and she (obviously underneath) could see over my shoulder and out of the window. Mid way through her screams of passion they went beyond the normal pitch and she screamed there's someone at the window !!! I turn around and there was a balaclavered face staring in at us
All I remember seeing was the breath on the window and the eyes through the holes in the balaclava !! I was pretty young at the time and didn't know what the fuck to do apart from jump up and go ballistic, Whoever it was ran off into the forest. The girl started laughing and was calling the guy (?) a dirty pervert and didn't appear to be as shaken up as me, I was fucking trembling and started to try and get dressed !! It was starting to get light at this time and (this was straight out of a horror movie) there was mist coming off the long grass we were parked next to.
A few moments later I look back out of the window and this fucking great big lump in camourflage gear starts to rise out of the long grass and is coming towards the car ! I jumped between the seats and started the car as quickly as I could and got out of there before he reached the car.
On the way home the girl said to me that she was now scared thinking about what could of happened (I suppose the shock was setting in). She said we should go to the Police, I didn't want to do this as I was worried it would get back to the current girlfriend and I would be in deep shit.
I still think about this from time to time and know I should have reported it all those years ago, but I was very young. I have heard of many stories of all sorts of things happening in the forest where we were and it does make me wonder !
********************************************
And the second (A bit gay, short and sweet !!)
I was fast asleep a couple of years ago and it was one of those really hot evenings. I had been on the piss all day and had collapsed on the sofa leaving the back door open (no wise cracks !).
I was having some really weird fucked up dream when I remember something wet licking my face. I woke up and there was a fox staring at me sitting on my living room carpet in front of me !! I don't know who jumped quicker !! Cheeky little fucker
Last edited:
StrettyJim
Tramp
- Messages
- 2,524
I've got a couple of weird ones (not spooky as such).
Was with a girl (I was cheating at the time, will explain later) and ended up in the back of my car in Epping Forrest at about 4 in the morning.
Whilst getting it on with said girl, I was on top and she (obviously underneath) could see over my shoulder and out of the window. Mid way through her screams of passion they went beyond the normal pitch and she screamed there's someone at the window !!! I turn around and there was a balaclavered face staring in at us
All I remember seeing was the breath on the window and the eyes through the holes in the balaclava !! I was pretty young at the time and didn't know what the fuck to do apart from jump up and go ballistic, Whoever it was ran off into the forest. The girl started laughing and was calling the guy (?) a dirty pervert and didn't appear to be as shaken up as me, I was fucking trembling and started to try and get dressed !! It was starting to get light at this time and (this was straight out of a horror movie) there was mist coming off the long grass we were parked next to.
A few moments later I look back out of the window and this fucking great big lump in camourflage gear starts to rise out of the long grass and is coming towards the car ! I jumped between the seats and started the car as quickly as I could and got out of there before he reached the car.
On the way home the girl said to me that she was now scared thinking about what could of happened (I suppose the shock was setting in). She said we should go to the Police, I didn't want to do this as I was worried it would get back to the current girlfriend and I would be in deep shit.
I still think about this from time to time and know I should have reported it all those years ago, but I was very young. I have heard of many stories of all sorts of things happening in the forest where we were and it does make me wonder !
********************************************
Fuck that!!! I'd have shat myself
I wank dags as a hobby
Tramp
- Messages
- 20,326
Jazz - It actually worries me now more just thinking about what could have happened 
I was young and naive then !!!
There been a couple of others on late night tube trains in London, that were dodgy as well !! It's a dangerous world
I was young and naive then !!!There been a couple of others on late night tube trains in London, that were dodgy as well !! It's a dangerous world
very strange indeed!! i wud shit myself in the same position!
When I was about 14, whenever my dad was away on business and never when he was home, there was someone sneaking about outside our house....anyway, one night my mum was upstairs in the bath, I was downstairs and the back window was steamed up. For some reason I went to it to wipe away the steam and there was some guy staring right at me, his face pressed against the glass
He was later caught and charged with sexual assault and admitted to being the person hanging round our house
fuckin vile that mate!these stories are mad!