char *(null)="
scary.stories
scary.stories
WARNING: this is long!
As a teen I and many of the others in our church youth group spent a lot
of time "hanging out" in the oldest cemetary here in town. It wasn't
exactly "appropriate" behaviour for church kids, but we weren't there to
vandalize - just to hang out and spook each other. After a while the
novelty wore off and it was simply a peaceful place to take a walk
undisturbed. Of course, it was usually late at night, long after we'd run
out of constructive things to do. We did all sorts of stupid things to
scare each other, hoping the girls would draw a little closer I guess...
Lot's of "little" things happened during those times, mostly due to our
own imaginations I'm sure. I remember one time when my girlfriend and I
were walking through the area at night. We were the only ones there (as
far as we knew). We both had an uneasy feeling that perhaps tonight
wasn't a good night to be there. It seems that at every corner something
in the nearest bush or tree would shake the branches. It wasn't a windy
night. The moon was bright enough to see clearly - no people. The final
straw came when something fell out of the tree about 12 feet down the path
in front of us. Whatever is was rattled the branches then hit the ground
like a small sack of flour. Then it scurried off through the autumn
leaves... Probably a cat, but it was enough to get us to leave. Odd night
that one was.
Being an old cemetary with all manner of crypts and stones it was easy to
get spooked. There was one time we were convinced we could see a pair of
feet in the shadows, always about 100 feet away, with everything from the
ankles up shrouded in darkness. It started as a joke, but we could swear
we saw those feet everywhere we went in the cemetary that night. Little
things. Stupid things. Scary things.
One night after romping in our "playground" I was driving everyone home.
We had about 6 people in the car. We stopped and started talking about
our personal experiences. Although I personally have not experienced (to
the best of my knowledge) ghostly phenomena, the stories that two of my
friends told me that night caused me to sleep with my bible under my
pillow that night...
Let me introduce "Julie". She is a very interesting person - very bubbly
and quite funny. She told me the following story. She was crying by the
end, having never told anyone before. She was shaking. Completely
terrified to be recalling it. When she was younger, perhaps 13 or so, she
lived in Ottawa. She had a best friend, but had never been in her
friend's room before. One day she went to visit. Her friend's mother
said "she's upstairs, just go on up to her room". She did. Her friend
wasn't in the room, so she just walked in and sat on the foot of the bed.
All at once she started to hear voices around her asking for help. Hollow
voices, children, women, men... echoing all around her. "Please help us".
She doesn't know why, but she felt very sad and started to cry. Just then
her friend walked in. "Julie" looked at her friend and asked one simple
question: "Do you sit here and cry at night?" At that the friend seemed
to be pushed out of the room, across the narrow hallway, and pressed up
against the wall. "Julie" went out to the hall and her friend looked her
in the eye and said "don't ever talk to me about what just happened".
Then they left. "Julie" never returned to that room and never discussed
it with her friend again. In fact, she never told anyone until she told
us in that car that night.
Meet another friend of mine, "Paul". "Paul" was the son of our pastor, a
pentecostal minister. His family had been missionaries in Bangkok
Thailand prior to moving to our city. In fact, "Paul" had done a lot of
his growing up over there. Now, Bangkok is a very large hotspot of
demonic activity. When they first moved there, they were able to buy a
very nice (by Bangkok standards) house for an incredibly low price. They
soon found out why...
It was a two story house. Quite often at night they would hear tapping at
the bedroom windows on the second floor. Sometimes they'd hear screaming
and wailing too. There were no trees close enough to be doing the
tapping, although I suppose you could chalk it up to pranksters. The
local people wouldn't go near the place though. When the father was away
during the day, the kids and the mother would hear all sorts of strange
voices and sounds. Now, out in the back yard of these houses there is
often a "spirit house". I'm not completely sure of the reasoning behind
them, but I suspect the idea is to build a house for the evil spirits to
inhabit so that they'll leave yours alone. In any case, it emitted an
incredible feeling of depression and evil. Finally one day when the
mother and daughter ("Paul's" sister) were home alone, they walked out
into the yard and said a simple prayer, then ordered the demons to leave.
They did. Prior to this simple exorcism an event took place that left my
friend extremely scared. It did a number on me too...
One night my friend was in his room having a heck of a time trying to fall
asleep. The rest of the family were sound asleep. Suddenly he heard the
front door open then close downstairs. He froze. Listening intently he
heard footsteps coming across the floor down there, then they were coming
up the stairs. He was terrified and tried to yell for his dad, but
nothing came out. No matter what he did he couldn't get out of bed or
make any sound. The footsteps stopped outside his room and the door began
to open. All he could do was watch. Now, up to this point I'm thinking
this has got to be a burglar or someone playing a prank. But... the door
opens fully and _something_ takes a step into the room. "Paul" told be
this part with a look of utmost fear on his face. The thing standing in
his doorway was actually darker than the room itself was. It was as if it
was absorbing all the light around it. He said it stood about 7 feet tall
and was very broad. There were no features or limbs to be seen, except
for the eyes. They were deep dark red. Blood red he said. The thing
just stood there looking at him. He pulled the covers over his head and
starting repeating the name "Jesus" over and over again. Interestingly
enough, that was the one word he could say out loud at that point. The
door slammed and he looked back. It was gone. He was able to move and
speak again and called for his parents. They hadn't seen it, but they
believed him.
In both of these stories the thing that convinced me was this: they both
became extremely terrified with the retelling of what happened. They were
quite uneasy about it and I admit I had to do a lot of prodding. Neither
of these people were known to tell "stories" like this.
Mark
PS: More to come in my next post
---#STONEFREE
Brought to you by Stone Free BBS -- 606.885.1715
Fido: 1:2370/69
Sysop: Chef Groovy/FaTSacK