Scary/Ghost/Paranormal Story Thread

logitech · #1 05-04-2011, 09:08 AM

Do you know a good ghost story? Or maybe you have your own scary personal experience? This is the place to share all such stories with other forum goers!

GUIDELINES:

Please stay within ALL RULES of this forum. Pictures and videos can really enhance your stories, but make sure they are appropriate and fit within the rules.
Refrain from bashing others or their stories. It's okay to discuss a certain story, but don't turn the thread into a flame war.
No pop-up scares or any other "cheap" scare tactics. Give us something with substance!
If you want to discuss the existence of the paranormal, do it in another thread.
IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING MEANINGFUL TO POST, THEN KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

I'll start off with the Dyatlov Pass Incident.

Dyatlov Pass Incident

In 1959, nine experienced Russian cross-country skiers — seven men and two women, led by a man named Igor Dyatlov — headed to the Ural Mountains, to a slope called Kholat Syakhl (Mansi language for "Mountain of the Dead,") for a rugged, wintry trek. On their way up, they are apparently hit by inclement weather and veer off course and decide to set up camp and wait it out. All is calm. All is fine and good. They even take pictures of camp, the scenery, each other. The weather is not so bad. They go to sleep.
Then, something happens. In the middle of the night all nine suddenly leap out of their tents as fast as possible, ripping them open from the inside (not even enough time to untie the doors) and race out into the sub-zero temps, without coats or boots or skis, most in their underwear, some even barefoot or with a single sock or boot. It is 30 degrees below zero, Celsius. A few make it as far as a kilometer and a half down the slope. All nine, as you might expect, quickly die.

Why did they rush out, unable to even grab a coat or blanket? What came at them? The three-month investigation revealed that five of the trekkers died from simple hypothermia, with no apparent trauma at all, no signs of attack, struggle, no outward injuries of any kind. However, two of the other four apparently suffered massive internal traumas to the chest, like you would if you were hit by a car. One's skull was crushed. All four of these were found far from the other five. But still, no signs of external injuries. Relatives at the funeral swear the skin of their dead loved ones was tanned, tinted dark orange or brown. And their hair had all turned completely gray.

One of the women was missing her tongue.

Picture taken during the investigation.

Another:

The Hands Resist Him

This painting was auctioned on Ebay on February 2000. It is titled, " The Hands Resist Him "...A pretty interesting title. The owners said they found it abandoned behind an old brewery, took it home, and hung it in their 4-year-old daughter's room. The owners claimed they had paranormal experiences from the painting, for example, their young daughter claimed to see the boy in the painting exit it into their living room along with other phenomena, and even captured footage of the boy coming out of the painting.

Many viewers of the painting claimed to suffer from 'blackouts,' horrible feelings, feeling violently ill, paranormal happenings, all from just viewing the painting on the Ebay auction page. When Bryan, a college student, first saw the painting he began to cry. As he studied the photographs on the auction website, he claims his computer screen turned white and he felt a blast of heat coming from the monitor, "like when you open a hot oven door". He called for his roommate, who was watching TV in the next room.

Bryan was speaking in tongues, tears were streaming down his face, his hair was standing on end, and his face was beetroot red. "I'm telling you the absolute truth now," Bryan says, "I have never been so scared in all my life." There was another story of a brand new Epson printer that ate and mutilated page after page when the user tried to download images of this oil. Also, a Native American became so ill after seeing the painting he had to cleanse his house by burning white sage. He warned the current owner of the painting not to put this item around small children, and that there is great evil contained in it. This could however be some sort of "marketing ploy" to sell the painting, but the reports sound very possible since there are so many.

Here is what the artist Bill Stoneham had to say.

Where to begin? Well I've always had a connection to what Carl Jung called the collective unconscious. I think we all do. Artists, especially visual artists, are barometers for the currents which run through this collective. Dreams are a common experience people may have with this. Anyway, my own experience is a sensitivity to place physical, geographical place. There are memories, echoes of all the life within a place. Maybe it's what's called channeling. When I painted the Hands Resist Him in 1972, I used an old photo of myself at age five in a Chicago apartment. The hands are the 'other lives.' The glass door, that thin veil between waking and dreaming. The girl/doll is the imagined companion, or guide through this realm.

Both the owner of the Gallery where 'Hands' was displayed and the Los Angeles Times art critic who reviewed the art show were dead within a year of the event. This could all be just a coincidence however, its up to you to decide. You can now purchase copies of the painting (who would want to after reading this?)

For those brave enough to look at the picture here is it:

Spoiler!

callistemon8 · #2 05-04-2011, 10:00 AM

This is my all time favorite scary story:
In the late 1800s, there was a middle-aged man who lived in the woods by himself. The only companions he had were his three hunting dogs. It took a day and a night to travel into the town outside the forest, so he only left his two-room cabin to get food and other supplies when he really needed to.
One night, the man looked in the cupboard and realized that he had no food left in his cabin. Cursing himself for being so careless, he decided that it was much to dark to start for town or go hunting now, and he would just have to go to bed hungry and wait until tomorrow.
About an hour later, the man was sitting in the main room of his cabin, cursing himself for not going to town sooner, when he heard a peculiar noise. It sounded like scurrying, as if an animal were running about the room. His three hunting dogs were outside, sleeping under the porch like they always did.
The man searched for the source of the noise, and behind his recliner he saw the stranges animal he had ever laid eyes on.
The animal was the size of a cat with a long, pointy face, like a fox. All of its teeth were razor sharp and the fangs protruded from its mouth. Its eyes were big as owl's eyes and bright green, so bright it seemed like they were glowing in the dim light. The animal had paws that looked almost like tiny human hands, only with long, black claws. Its ears were enormous, like a jackrabbit's. But the thing that the man noticed most about this strange beast was its enormous tail, he guessed it was six feet long, coiled round and round itself.
The creature regarded him calmly for quite some time, as he stared at it in awe. He had never seen something that looked even remotely the same in all his life.
Just then, a thought came to him: he would kill it and have it for dinner!
Quick as a flash, he rushed to the 'kitchen' portion of his main room and grabbed his butcher knife off of the shelf. The creature, realizing what was happening, let out a terrifying hiss that froze the man in his tracks. It almost sounded like a human scream.
The man chased the thing around his house for a full minute before it finally slipped away through a hole in the log wall, where he presumed it had entered his house from.
The thing barely escaped, but not before the man cut off its tail. He heard it go screaming away into the forest.
Being a shrewd man, he realized that the tail had some very good meat on it, and decided he would skin it and cook it for dinner.
That was what he did, and he went to bed full and quite satisfied with himself.

But in all the excitement, he'd forgotten to patch up the hole in his wall...

That night, the man awoke to a scurrying sound in his main room. Now, his bedroom was separate from the main room of his cabin, he'd built the addition on himself so as to have more private living space. He could hear scurrying around his main room, even through the thick bedroom door. As he listened, he realized with just a hint of cold fear that he had forgotten to patch up the hole in the wall.
Just then, an eerie, singsong voice rang through the still air of the cabin, "taily-po, taily-po, who's got my taily-po?"
The man was so frightened that he jumped out of bed, grabbed his shotgun, and threw open the door to his room, hoping to catch whoever was messing around with him red-handed.
All he saw was a black shadow scurry, fast as lightning, through the hole in the wall.
Shouting out, he sent his dogs after whatever it was, hearing them go barking off into the night. The man sat up for an hour. Only two of his dogs came back.
Thoroughly scared now, the man blocked the hole as best he could with a stack of logs for the fire and let the dogs into the house to sleep in the main cabin. Then, trying to ease his racing mind, he went back into his room and tried to sleep.
Not ten minutes later, the sound of the stack of logs crashing down and his dogs whining and cowering like scared puppies reached his ears.
There was a scurrying sound, then the eerie, singsong voice said (sounding much closer now than it had been the last time), "taily-po, taily-po, who's got my taily-po?"
The man, once again, jumped out of bed with his shotgun, but just missed that black shadow running through the reopened hole in the wall. Furious and frightened, the man sent his two dogs out after the creature.
An hour later, one dog returned.
The man brought moved his heavy chair in front of the hole in the wall, the dog into his room to sleep by his bed, and tried to calm himself.
Not five minutes later, the sound of the heavy chair scraping across the dirt floor of the cabin reached his ears. The voice, now sounding very close to his bedroom door, sang out, "taily-po, taily-po, who's got my taily-po?"
Terrified, the man flung his bedroom door open and sent his dog after the creature.
It never returned.
Desparate, the man blocked the hole with all he could find in his home, bolted his door shut, locked himself in his room, and sat on his bed with his shotgun.
Not three minutes later, a scurrying sound reached his ears. The voice, now just outside his bedroom door, sang out, "taily-po, taily-po, who's got my taily-po?"
The man remained silent, shaking with fear.
There was scratching on the door, and then the doorknob slowly began to turn.
"Taily-po, taily-po, who's got my taily-po?"
The man aimed his shotgun at the door. It wasn't loaded. It was useless against the terror. He threw it to the ground. All too late, he realized that he could have used it to hit the creature, but now it was across the room and he was too afraid to stand up.
The door was wide open now. A black shadow scurried across the floor.
"Taily-po, taily-po, who's got my taily-po?"
The creature climbed up to the foot of his bed, staring at him with glowing green eyes. It was smiling, showing rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Taily-po, taily-po," it said, "you've got my taily-po."
It climbed across his legs, up to his stomach.
Terrified, the man managed to scream out, "I haven't got it! I haven't got your taily-po!"
The creature spread its clawed, human-like hand and placed its claws against the man's stomach. Grinning, it whispered, "yes you do."

A month later, a woman from town noticed that the man hadn't come there for a very long time, so she decided to check on him to make sure he was okay.
As she was riding out into the forest, she found a most ghastly sight. A dead dog on the side of the path.
She rode on, but soon she found another dead dog, and very soon a third.
Shuddering, she hurried along to the man's cabin to make sure he was okay.
With a scream, she found him in his bedroom, his sheets soaked in blood, a look of horror frozen on his face forever. His stomach had been cut open by something razor sharp.
She rode back to town with all the speed she could, to inform the people of the town and get the man a proper burial.
As she was riding through the trees, she heard - or thought she heard - an eerie, singsong voice sing out through the trees, "taily-po, taily-po, now I've got my taily-po..."

It's not factual like yours, but it is still as freaky as hell.

CUD · #3 05-04-2011, 10:08 AM

That "The Hands Resist Him" story was pretty scary, i'm not really superstitious but reading that story then looking at that pic will probably make it hard to sleep tonight.

EDIT: **** that 'taily-po' story was pretty freaky, i better stop reading these or i wont be able to sleep for weeks i should probably go clean my pants now.

Noddles · #4 05-04-2011, 11:06 AM

I love me some creepypasta

callistemon8 · #5 05-04-2011, 11:20 AM

Here are some more:
A little girl, named Penny Warren, was given a small doll by her parents. The doll was a gift from an ancient great aunt who had now passed on. Penny was instantly unnnerved by the doll, which had nasty little black eyes that seemed to follow her around the room and a sinister grin on her face. Nevertheless, Penny had to accept the doll, as she was well brought up and didn't want to upset her parents by refusing to take it. Her parents told her that the doll's name was Arabella, which made Penny even more afraid of it; it seemed to make it more human. Even so, it was just a doll, barely reaching above her knee, so to put her mind at rest, she hid Arabella into the little cupboard under the stairs, under some boxes where her parents wouldn't see her. It wasn't until a few nights later, when Penny was lying in bed, that she heard a noise...a shuffling sound that went on for about five minutes. Then, a brief dragging noise and finally, a scuttling like light footsteps running very fast. Penny was paralyzed with fear, her knuckles turning white from clutching her blanket. Then, she heard a voice - soft and eerily childlike - quiet enough not to wake her parents. Penny always slept with the door open and the lamp in the hall on, as she was still a little scared of the dark. Therefore, she could hear more through her open door. Penny heard the voice say "Penny, I'm on the first step"...And then a loud scrabbling again, as whatever was speakingapparently turned tail and returned to wherever it had come from. the little girl didn't sleep a wink that night, but laid in fear until the break of dawn when her mother got her up for school and when she tried to explain what had happened, her parents passed it off as "just a dream". The next night, Penny fought against sleep, but eventually drifted off, only to be woken again by the sinister voice: "Penny, I'm on the fifth step" Penny was crying by now, and again, she didn't sleep that night. The next night, Penny decided to shut her bedroom door and reluctantly slept without the light on. Just as she was about to doze, Penny heard the noise, and then the voice: "Penny, I'm on the top step..." Penny knew that her door was closed, but she was still terribly afraid. Her heart pounding, she slowly go up to investigate; she screamed. Penny's parents found her body at the bottom of the stairs. They guessed she was on her way to the bathroom without switching on the hall light and had fallen down the stairs, breaking her neck. Arabella, the favorite family doll, was found beside her body - smiling.

And more:
Drip, Drip, Drip

One night a young girl, Lily Foster, is left alone for the night, in her country house, while her parents drove out to town for a party. This was fine with Lily, especially since she had her faithful dog, Scout, protecting her throught the night. She made herself something to eat, and sat down at the kitchen table. Turning on the radio to her favorite station, she was surprised to hear a news bulleten declaring that an avenged murderer was on the loose. It advised that people secure all windows and doors as a safety precaution. With her dog by her side, the young girl locked the front and back doors. She went from window to window, and locked each of them one at a time. She reassured herself that she would be fine with her trusty dog, and that her parents would be home shortly, anyway. So, Lily had a pleasant, peaceful evening, and finally decided around eleven o'clock that it was time for bed. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom, and slid under the big, warm blanket on her bed. Before closing her eyes, reached her hand down under the bed, and allowed her dog to lick it- she did this every night, because it comforted her. A short while later she awoke to the sound of a scratching noise at her bedrooom window. She eyed the window, and reminded herself that the whole house was locked and she was safe. She stuck her hand under her bed and felt her dog's slobbery tongue cross over the palm of her hand. She sighed and went back to sleep. An hour or so later she sat up in bed...She had heard footsteps in the hallway, and crept out of bed to see if it was possibly just her parents returning from their party. Seeing nothing, she returned to bed. As she was about to stick her hand under the bed, she heard a drip, drip, drip, followed by some footsteps. She walked downstairs into the kitchen and secured the the taps. That surely wasn't the source of the drip. She crept upstairs and climbed into bed. "This is silly," she told herself "I'm probably just imagining things." She stuck her hand under the bed, and felt the dog lick her hand. An hour later she awoke again. A little mad at this point, she jumped out of bed. The dripping wasn't coming from the kitchen so it must be from the bathroom. She crept along the side of the hallway, and walked into the bathroom. She groped along the side of the wall with her left hand, looking for the light switch. She flicked the light on and gasped. There, hanging from the shower rod was Scout-skinned-a pool of blood had formed on the bathroom tile with a continuous 'drip, drip, drip' as the blood from the dog hit the ground. Something on the wall caught her eye; written on the wall was a message in blood..."Humans can lick too."

I have some more as well, just tell me if you want to hear them.