Over the course of time, I receive a lot of stories that can be classified more so as 'creepy' as opposed to 'paranormal.' Here are a few of the more interesting incidents.
"This story was unveiled to me by my uncle, when he was drunk. Whenever I ask him to repeat it he tells me to stop asking, says that he doesn't want to talk about it and thanks me for stopping him from sleeping that night. Needless to say, we don't bring it up very often.
My uncle lived in an old English cottage, wooden beams, wonky ceilings, strange stairs and creaking floorboards, the works.
He suffered from constant nightmares as a child, and they all seemed to be part of the same story. There would always be a boy that walked down his street in tattered clothes, went to the window and knocked on it. My uncle would look, causing the boy to scream. That was the point where my uncle would wake up.
Wherever he was the dream seemed to adapt, sleeping in a car, car window, camping, outside the tent. It all seemed a bit too coincidental that this same boy would keep appearing in all his dreams. This carried on until he was 14, he was in the car with his mother, sleeping, when the car crashed. He says he heard the same scream, the window smash and then he woke up.
They had ran into a boy, the same boy from the dreams, who proceeded to crash through the windscreen and land on his lap. His cold dying eyes fixed on my uncle as if he had seen him before, like he was death itself. That stare haunts my uncle, and had to go through months of therapy to get over it." RD
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"In 2007 I was living with my parents in Anchorage, Alaska while I attended college. They lived in a nice, three-level house in an upscale part of the city. My room was in the downstairs, the middle floor was the kitchen and living areas, and my parents' room was on the top level. The kitchen was directly above my room and, since it had a tile floor, I could always very clearly hear it when someone was in the kitchen.
One morning in early March, I was up late finishing some math homework. My parents had been in bed for hours, although both are known for having occasional insomnia. I heard a door upstairs slam shut and heavy footsteps in the kitchen, it sounded like they had shoes on as well. I immediately assumed it was my dad having trouble sleeping and I thought I should go up and keep him company. As I left my room, I got a funny feeling about it and instead locked myself in the bathroom with my cell phone. I called our landline. My father answered, and sounding annoyed said "What are you doing stomping around the kitchen?" They came downstairs to get me and together we searched the entire house. We found absolutely no evidence of any intruder. All doors and windows were shut and locked, nothing broken, etc. Additionally, there was snow on the ground outside, but we found no footprints around the house and no mud or water in the kitchen where the intruder had been walking.
The thing that made it most creepy to me was the disturbingly strong "this isn't right" feeling I had as I left my room. It was at least once every few weeks that one of my parents would be up in the night from insomnia and I, being a night owl, would always go up and join them, so hearing someone walking around the kitchen was completely normal. I sometimes wonder what would have happened or what I would have seen if I had ignored that feeling or hadn't felt it at all." TW
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"My mom told me a story about her cousin Bobby. Bobby and his girlfriend got in a severe car accident. His girlfriend died, but he lived. After the accident he had a reoccurring dream that he and his girlfriend were on opposite sides of a river. She would always scream and try to get him to swim across the river to her, but he refused.
One night, he woke up and said goodbye to everyone in his family and that he'd never see them again. Everyone was very confused, and he explained that he had dreamed that he had crossed the river. He died the next day in a car crash. And no, the car crash was not his fault." LR
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"I was reading a reference to Skinwalkers. They're these native American medicine men (mostly in Navajo and southwestern tribes) who are pure evil. They shapeshift and stuff, look them up, they're creepy bastards. I'm half Lakota-Sioux Indian so I've heard of them mentioned by friends and relatives before. They kill people after driving them crazy from fear. Anyways they prey on Indians and other ethnicities if you talk about them.
Well I started reading stories about them and telling friends about the stories and how creepy they are. People say if you talk about them they stalk you and kill you. I didn't actually believe in them, so I figured I was fine. I keep this up for a week.
Then one night as I'm laying in bed I hear a tapping on my window and it doesn't sound muffled like a fingertip, but like a sharp rap from a hard pointy tip of a claw or knife. I calm myself and try to sleep thinking I'm just going crazy and spooked myself. But then it gets louder and clearer with more force, accompanied by a whispering sound. At this point I know I'm not imagining it, so I pray for it to go away but it won't. So I grab my shotgun and open the blinds and nothing is there. By now I'm nearly sh*tting myself from fear, but I lay back down with my gun. It doesn't happen anymore, and I doze off.
Then, as soon as I go into a deep sleep, I hear this piercing sound next to my ear, as loud as a megaphone. It sounded like an eagle scream mixed with a bear roar, and it's so loud I lose hearing for a few moments. Outside my window is just ferocious banging, as my window began to rattle. So I start pleading for God to send whatever it is away over and over again and it just abruptly stops. Then about ten seconds later my 3-year-old brother just wakes up with a blood curdling scream and my parents rush in to check in on him. He said something was outside his window.
The next morning I go to investigate outside and everything is normal except my brother's window screen had one large gash in it.
I tell my parents about the things that happened in the night, about how I'd been talking about Skinwalkers, and my mom got extremely pissed (she's full-blood Native American) and curses at me. She eventually calls our local medicine man over to our house. He does a ritual and blesses the family. Since then we have been fine. But because of that I decided not to f*ck with that anymore." UJ
NOTE: I have a bunch of these accounts. I'll occasionally post a few if they are of interest to you. LMK. Lon
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