The exact spot you are sitting right now, believe it or not, has existed for thousands upon thousands of years. Before your computer existed, before your home existed, long before you existed. The question is then, who, or what else has occupied that space before?
"My father and grandfather both died in 1967 when I was four years old, leaving my mum with three girls under 13 to raise. We had a traditional residual haunting by my grandfather for many years after that, so I grew up in a “haunted house” in suburban Liverpool, NSW, Australia. We had both full-bodied apparitions and noises as experienced by us, friends, and neighbors (so we didn’t feel too crazy!) but it wasn’t until all of us girls had matured and I finally entered my teen years, that we then moved into poltergeist activity as well. My sisters and I now all live in different states, but I’ve concluded that we’re a bit like "The Witches Of Eastwick” and every time we three live under the same roof, trouble follows!
The haunting peaked when we were younger, but when my much older sisters returned home from failed marriages and we were all together again… we weren’t disappointed! Furniture moved, rearranged itself, and things fell without cause - the “usual” poltergeist activity. This activity peaked one night in 1977 when my eldest sister and my mum stayed up late to have a talk. Our house was built up high and ended in full-length French windows that overlooked the yard. One of the windows was a door that led to some steps down into the yard. As they sat at the dining room table talking, my elder sister, Wendy, heard something at the glass. Mum thought it may have been moths or something hitting the glass, so she drew the curtains.
Not long after that, there was a loud bang! They got up and opened the curtains and had a look around, but there wasn’t anything to be seen. When they sat back down, there were more bangs on the glass and Mum told Wendy it was just kids and to ignore it. Wendy begged Mum to call her boyfriend to come over (we were a house full of women and children), but Mum looked at the bottle of whisky they’d been drinking and thought he’d make fun of them for being drunk! So she refused. The bangs got worse and worse until they stopped, suddenly. Then there was noise in the driveway that ran down the side of the house. My mother described it as a swoosh, like when you flick a long baton or cane rod through the air, and then an impact on the foundations of the house. The women could feel the floor shake every time it hit.
Mum said it was heavy like a chain being swung through the air. It passed around a heavily gated corner without pause and started along the brick work under the French windows. Neither dared look through the curtains. Mum climbed in the kitchen sink trying to look down through the window at what was going on, but it was too dark.
The sound traveled along the back of the house, even changing tone when it moved from the brickwork of the foundation to the cement steps of the laundry door. They could hear it going toward the far end of the house. All Mum could think was, “I cannot let this go all the way around the house.” So she ran out the front door, across the front lawn, and down the other side of the house to meet it…
Our front lawn has prickles and Mum didn’t feel any of them in her bare feet! But now Wendy was screaming, so Mum ran back in again. Wendy was now across the other side of the house on the lounge, absolutely terrified. She told Mum that as soon as she left, the noise had doubled back and reasserted its attentions at the windows. Then, just as mysteriously as it had started, it stopped.
In the morning, there was dirt caking the back of the house. That was what had been hitting the house, but there was no source in our yard or neighboring yards for this particular kind of caked clay dirt.
Little did we know this was only the first of three nights of this kind of activity.
The second event, a week later, took place when I was alone in the house. I had just got out of the shower when I heard the first bang! I was now 14, and I knew what it was. The poltergeist had returned.
I made sure the curtains were closed and the back doors were locked; I tried to turn the TV up, but this was just too loud. I really started to get distressed, and I started to pray.
The good Lord was quick to answer my prayer, because suddenly, the phone rang. Uncharacteristically, Mum had felt like checking up on me, and I told her the ghost was there and to get home ASAP!
As I hung up, my middle sister, Kerry, also had the same intuition to call, and I told her the same. Kerry got home first and put me to bed. The commotion was still going on in the backyard when my sister ran out and started abusing “it”. I was just worried that the neighbors would complain about the bad language!
Then I heard something at my bedroom window…
…trying to get in!
It sounded like scratching and seemed that it was trying to open the wooden sashes. I couldn’t believe it and called to my sister. At the time, she told me nothing was there, and to calm down. It took her another 15 years for her to admit there was something at my window. She could see it, but she couldn’t tell that to a hysterical 14-year-old girl at the time.
Soon, my Mum and her boyfriend were also home, the attack had stopped, and we all settled down.
A week later, we were all together watching TV when we heard the first bang! We waited for Mum’s boyfriend to react (because he thought we were a little crazy), so we felt a bit better when he heard it too. This time, however, there was safety in numbers and we weren’t afraid, just intrigued.
We all went down the stairs and searched the yard, though my two dogs snarled and barked at the top of the steps and refused to enter the yard. We all came back in the house and… bang! This activity was getting a bit boring now, and only Kerry and I stayed to watch it; everyone else had gone back to watching TV.
I noted that the dirt would appear out of the darkness into the light generated by the house. Even though our house was built up, the dirt came in a straight line, which seemed odd: for kids to be able to throw dirt in a straight line at these windows, they would have had to be 20 feet off the ground somewhere directly in line with these windows! As the dirt wasn’t the kind from ours or neighboring yards, if it was kids, they were bringing their own dirt with them!
I knew the dogs in the neighboring yards were outdoor dogs, and not particularly nice, and I certainly wouldn’t have been going through there in the dark. Also, when the dirt was peaking, it was hitting every second or two at times. How fast were these “kids”?
During an experiment (which scared my mother to half to death!) I had proved it was possible to throw dirt at the window, but for any accuracy, you had to be close enough to be seen in the backyard lights, and we couldn’t see anyone within throwing distance because the area was illuminated.
Kerry and I pulled the curtains and went back to watching TV as well. The “thing” never came back… but that was the only time I was really scared of our ghost.”
By Jen from “Your True Tales”
A personal account
I was 16 or so when this happened. My best friend and I were having a sleepover, and it was getting real late at night. My bedroom door was right next to the back door with a small concrete porch, and a few steps into a big, dark backyard.
We were just sitting inside when I heard a small commotion outside my window, and immediately I jumped up to investigate. I could see something moving on the porch, but it was hard to tell what it was from the angle. I decided to go check the backdoor, though my friend insisted that I stay in the bedroom. Instead, I opened the back door so that I could see through the flimsy, screen door. What I saw terrified me, to say the least.
There was a flesh-colored creature sitting on its hind legs, hunched over and sounding as if it were eating something. It had pointy ears that were flat against its head, and long spines straight down its back. It turned its head and was holding some kind of animal, possibly a cat or rabbit, which was bloodied and mutilated at this point. It had a long snout and dropped it, turned around, and looked at me. Of course, I slammed the door shut, locked it, and ran back into my bedroom. I could hear it scratching and banging at the back door and making strange throaty noises for nearly five full minutes before running off. Once it did, I ran outside with my camera (much to the dismay of my friend) and hid in the bushes on my porch, hoping it would come back for the rest of the animal. After a few minutes it did, running straight past me on two legs to grab it.
I was ready to take a picture but it stopped and sniffed the air, and turned to look at me. I only saw its face for a split second, but I remember it clearly. It had rows of sharp teeth and a snarling expression, with dark eyes and a contrasting dark brown around its face. It was maybe 5 or 6 feet if it would have stood up completely straight. I was petrified, though it just stood there looking in my direction. As it took a step I chucked my camera in another direction to distract it, and it looked at that for a moment before running past me again, turning its head to snarl at me before it ran away, jumping clear over my fence.
I still never found out what it was. It had no fur and was huge, with feet the size of my head and it looked like some awful mix between a werewolf and an alien. There’s nothing I regret more than not getting a picture of it, but I’ll never forget what it looked like.
Anonymous said: Do you take submissions of true scary stories?
Yes! Absolutely!! A true creepy story is far creepier than something fake, right? If you have a story, please share it.
noblepulsarwaves said: Hello!
I like your Tumblr. Your stories are creepily awesome; there aren't many Tumblr blogs that focuses on horror stories. It's too bad that you haven't post anything recently. When's the next story? Any plans on posting regularly?
Hey! Thank you! :) Sorry I haven’t been posting more creepy stories lately haha
The major factor that limits my posting is that it’s just darn hard to find quality creepy stories haha. I mean, I’ve found plenty of stories online with great ideas in them, but either they’re too long, poorly written, or just not believable. I don’t really consider the hellish, gory, scary stuff like to be really that creepy; it’s more just tailored to appeal to fear, and it only occurs in movies.
The type of story I gravitate towards is the brief anecdote your uncle may tell you of the massive red-eyed hound he saw stalking the woods when he was a teenager, or the story of how you were held by a future serial killer as a baby (which, believe it or not, actually happened to me! [specifically speaking, Warren Lemons, if you’re interested]). They’re the sort of stories which at first glance leave your shoulders shrugging in a mix of creepiness and lack of explanation, but upon further thought leave you terrified of the implications.
Anyway, there just aren’t a lot of sources for those, but once I find a consistent method for finding them, I promise I’ll have regular updates of freaky tales for your to enjoy and mull over :)
Once again, thanks!
prollydeadorsomethinglikethatlo said: Great, great blog! I love it.
Thank you! :) I find creepy stories to be just so interesting and entertaining, I can’t help but share what I’ve found with others. I’m very glad you think they’re awesome too!
Life is what you make of it.
In 1653, Spanish explorers found the ruins of what appeared to be a Mesoamerican step pyramid in what is modern South Carolina. Though the site was far beyond the borders of any known American indigenous populations, it was also of a smaller size than existing Mesoamerican structures and bore an unrecognized form of glyphic decoration. Local natives were familiar with the structure but knew nothing about it.
The Spaniards sought to disassemble the building as a heathen relic and did so, brick by brick, salvaging the materials to construct their own nearby settlement. Deconstruction halted, however, when one brick was uncovered at the core of the structure, carved entirely of black glass. The stone, approximately two feet by three, was impossible to move or even budge by any man or animal.
Attempts were made to dig the stone out from beneath, but excavation revealed that it extended indefinitely into the earth. In frustration, the captain of the explorers fired a glancing blow off of the surface of the stone. The obsidian block was undamaged, but moments after the blow had struck, it silently retracted downwards, sliding downward into a hole that quickly collapsed inward on itself, burying the retreating obsidian column.
The Spaniards interpreted this as an evil omen and abandoned the site, never to return.