Yikes, that is so weird! Fellow Texan here, and I know we get a lot of shit, but hey, we’re certainly prepared for uninvited guests! (Also, Go Rangers! :P )

This happened when I was around 13 or 14. My dad had recently passed away, so it was just me, my mom, and my 5-years-younger brother. After my dad died, my mom became really adamant about always keeping the doors locked all the time, even though we lived in a safe, quiet neighborhood in a safe, quiet Alaskan town. I…

“It was 1985. See we had just moved to a small town in California from a different small town in Connecticut. My bedroom in my new house was about 30 sq ft bigger than my old bedroom. The bathroom was 10 paces from my bedroom and the carpet was orange. This matters, believe me.”

Omg right? Trying to read these in a phone, and most have so many extraneous details and language, I lost interest and just came to the comments section to see if I was being ridiculous. It was a big snooze fest.

Dearest (I assume) white people,

I told this story a few years ago under a different burner account but I think it’s creepy enough for a re-tell, so here goes.

Same. The concept of Heaven, being really stingent about the physical body at the funeral, and resting next to each other for all eternity aren’t really Hindu concepts (at least not the way my husband’s family from the middle-India region practice it).

The one where the girl went to visit her cousin in Salem? The way she told it! It was both scary as fuck and hilarious, and she included Snapchats she took complete with captions - shame that didn’t make it. 

It was creepy. And after reading the post, I’m now wondering about your landlord...

Rats! My handprint in the bathroom rug didn’t make it but I guess it wasn’t really a story. It was an impulse post anyway. But I do believe it scared some folks so that’s all that counts! And here’s to no more rug imprints!!!

Not my story, but a story that I’ve heard from a friend a while ago. Therefore, sorry for the lack of details.

I’m a scientist by trade, so I’m usually pretty skeptical of most supernatural stories. That said, many are surprised to find out that I do, in fact, believe in ghosts. I still to this day swear that my parents old house was haunted.

You are not alone! This handprint appeared on my windshield a few nights ago after dinner at my parents’. They don’t have neighbors.

The house that I grew up in dated back to the early 1700s. It was a mansion, that had been converted into apartments. Supposedly it was used as the basis for one of the locations in a Sherlock Holmes story. Presumably because Sir Arthur Conan Doyle lived about a mile away, and you could see my house from there.…

WOW. This sounds terrifying. his parents sound awful. OOf, what a shitty Thanksgiving.

When Mr. SayBoo and I went visit his parents for the first time his mom wanted us to sleep separately and he told her, “I’m an adult and that’s idiotic. We share a room or we don’t visit.” and honestly I wanted to marry him right…

I’m rereading my Black Lizard Press Big Book of Ghost Stories, and there’s one in there that features a lonely little girl who makes friends with some ghost girls in her house.

I don’t remember if I’ve told this one here before. You’ll find it in a few places online. I’m leaving one of the details out because it’s a little...beyond what I’m describing, it just feels beyond the pale.

Ditto. The women of my maternal line have a ‘touch of the fae’ as my grandmother would call it. I’ve had a few experiences myself over the years and I have the occasional spark of ‘knowledge’ - like the time I knew exactly when my nephew would be born and that he was a nephew, or the time I knew a lorry was going to…

I read this thread religiously every year, and this year for better or worse, I finally have a story worth making an account for. It’s not the scariest thing that’s ever happened to anyone, but it almost made me shit myself when it happened.

Okay okay okay!
here’s my story - it’s a brief one!