The story of the house with doll magazines and the story about the armoire reminded me of something I haven’t though about in years.

This is a scary/funny story (not ghostly)....

I’m disappointed. One of the three requirements for submission is that the story has to be true. There’s only three requirements!! And yet clearly fake bs like the armoire story “wins”? :(

Didn’t contribute this on the original thread because it isn’t really scary, mostly just weird, but what the hell, it’s almost Halloween.

I was attending Bergen community college in the mid 70's....We had taked a field trip to an older ladies house in Ridgewood NJ on the street leading from Midland Park, it was a pink victorian. When we got there we were shown around the house. The lady had dozens of shelved collection cases filled with everything from…

I made my husband stand guard in the bedroom while I showered after reading that first story. Holy fuck.

Both these stories were scary, but I did burst out laughing when I read this:

Maybe this isn’t exactly the stuff nightmares are made of, but it sure spooked me!

Not a paranormal story, but I was incredibly creeped out by this.

This happened to a friend of a friend earlier this summer (as told by my friend). I’ll call her friend Jane. Jane is a nurse who works a specific shift at a local hospital and keeps a really consistent schedule. She gets up at 5am, takes a shower, and then heads off to work. Jane lives in a bungalow a block away…

The house where I grew up was pretty new - way newer than any of the other houses on the block. A typical one-story ranch house that you might see in any stretch of American suburbia. Likewise, all the furniture in the house was pretty par for the course. My room had a little-kid bed, a nightstand, a table and chairs…

I’m not a good storyteller and I’m not sure this is scary but here it goes.

This happened several years ago, when I first moved to L.A. and rented a place in a charmingly old/frustratingly old building. I almost took the efficiency next door, but splurged and went for the studio. I’m glad I did, and not just for the stove and the small amount of extra space. 

I grew up in a small town on an Indian reservation. Most houses in this town (old rundown project houses) had creepy histories and stories. Some worse than others. One house stood out in particular.

NO!

I told my mom’s story a few years ago and I think it was an honorable mention. That story still creeps me out but here’s one from my childhood that I actually witnessed.

Okay, so this may not be the scariest story ever, and none of you will ever see it because I’m as gray as they come, but it is 100% true and you can make of it what you will.

Way back, when I was a wee one, we used to live in a house that was haunted. Virtually every night, you could hear the sounds of someone walking up and down the hallway. Family photos would always wind up askew, if not fall off the wall entirely. The door to the master bedroom would occasionally slam shut (and lock)…

Not my story personally, but from a friend: