Your Ghost and Horror Stories

[sshotz]

Note: Best read at night

Are there any ghost stories that you would like to share with the rest of the SPUF community?

Here's mine, I read this maybe two years ago, so this isn't an exact copy, but this one gave me chills reading it.

A man checks into a hotel. After paying his room fee and been given his key, the clerk tells him to pay no attention to the room at the end of the hall. The man became quite curious by the statement and decided to investigate. As he approached the door he became hesitant to open it. But out of curiousity, he forced himself to grip the knob and turn it quickly. Unsurprisingly, it was locked, but that didn't stop the man. He looked into the keyhole, and saw a very white woman sitting in a chair and reading a book. Her back was turned away from the door, and she seemed to be unaware of the man's actions. The man decided to go to sleep and ask the clerk about it later.

The next morning, the man decided that he wanted to investigate the room again. Feeling a little more brave, he looked into the keyhole, but the only thing he saw was red. He came to the conclusion that the woman actually DID notice him and blocked the keyhole with something red. he went back to the front desk and asked the clerk about the strange woman. The clerk replied:

"A strange, almost dangerous-looking family checked in about a year ago. Due to our policy, we were not allowed to turn them down, no matter how they looked. The mother of the family was found dead a couple of days later, and the rest of them nowehre to be found. It was a sad day, and we've avoided the room ever since."

"Can you tell me about what they looked like, sir?" Asked the man.

"Certainly." The clerk replied. "What was odd about them was that they were completely white, not a hint of color could be found in them, except for their eyes, which were red."

[awes0meaxel]

my father went to stay in the country with my mother before i was born.
he told me that he was in a trailer and you could hear the dogs bark all night, then they stopped barking and he heard like something was scratching the trailer, he looked and saw a dark figure. he forced himself to lay back down and go to sleep, he also said that he felt like he was felling anger and pain for no reason.

[Bearkin]

Bears aren't afraid of ghosts.

[methodman123]

if the girls back is turned to the door while sitting on a chair, wouldn't she be "not visible", there the man who never been able to determine she was very white? Wouldn't the chair be the thing only seen?

This concludes that the story is

FAKE AND GAY....im sorry i bought duke nukem but it bores me to death

[sshotz]

Originally Posted by methodman123

if the girls back is turned to the door while sitting on a chair, wouldn't she be "not visible", there the man who never been able to determine she was very white? Wouldn't the chair be the thing only seen?

This concludes that the story is

FAKE AND GAY....im sorry i bought duke nukem but it bores me to death

At an angle.

There, happy?

[Bearkin]

Originally Posted by methodman123

if the girls back is turned to the door while sitting on a chair, wouldn't she be "not visible", there the man who never been able to determine she was very white? Wouldn't the chair be the thing only seen?

This concludes that the story is

FAKE AND GAY....im sorry i bought duke nukem but it bores me to death

It's a chair, not a ten foot high five foot wide throne.

[methodman123]

Originally Posted by Bearkin

It's a chair, not a ten foot high five foot wide throne.

When i read chair, i was reminded of Duke Nukem's Nukem Cave throne telporting chair thingy

[TWS composer]

I'm a Sci-Fi writer. However I did write one story for Language Arts. I may post it here one day.

[sshotz]

Alright guys, this is a thread about ghost and horror stories, not about a chair.

Here's another one that I remember slightly. Though not as horrifying (imo).

Sometimes, if you go outside at precisely 1:42 in the morning, you'll hear whispers, sometimes you'll hear screams, and sometimes you'll see the people. The people who are tortured. If you hear the whispers, move slowly, otherwise, you'll hear them day after day, until the day you die. If you hear the screams, do not move at all, otherwise, you'll hear them day after day, until the day you die. If you see the people of the tortured. Do not move, close your eyes as soon as possible, and hold your breath. Not doing so can result in the death of you.

Again, not as horrifying, but who knows, maybe someone who starts to garden at precisely 1:42 in the morning will find this scary.

[methodman123]

Originally Posted by TWS composer

I'm a Sci-Fi writer. However I did write one story for Language Arts. I may post it here one day.

but not today when the thread for horror stories has just been created

anyways what kind of chair are you sitting on right now?

[TWS composer]

Originally Posted by methodman123

but not today when the thread for horror stories has just been created

anyways what kind of chair are you sitting on right now?

No I just have to find it.

I'm actually in outer space. In a time machine.

[Dirtman73]

About a decade ago, I helped install a computer system for a tavern in Wisconsin. It was located in an old house built in the late 1880s, and the house itself was famous among the locals as a "ghost house". The owners insisted that I and my fellow workmates not stay in the tavern past a certain hour because the resident spirit had the run of the place once it closed for the night, and the spirit (called Dave by the owners) didn't appreciate fleshbags skulking around after hours.

According to the owners, the attic was Dave's favorite haunt, and employees actually went out of their way to avoid it because the atmosphere gave off a really strange vibe. I got to experience this for myself when I installed a server up there. I'm not normally claustrophobic, but for some reason I was extremely uncomfortable for the few hours I spent up top, and I was glad to finally finish my work and head back downstairs. I felt like I was being watched the whole time I was up there.

On my final day of work at the tavern, I ended up having to stay past closing to straighten out some kinks in the computer system. All the customers and employees had left for the night, so it was just myself and the husband-and-wife proprietors. I was warned that "Dave is going to start pitching a fit, so don't be alarmed when you hear noises from the attic".

I laughed that off, but it wasn't long before I was truly freaked out by the ♥♥♥♥ I heard coming through the floorboards above us: footsteps, creaking wood, thuds, dragging sounds, and weird little "whooshing" noises (similar to what a bird makes when it's flying too close to your head). The owners insisted that they weren't pranking me. According to them, Dave had been with the house for as long as residents in the area could remember, and he was infamous for playing jokes such as moving furniture, opening doors, and shifting small items. They related several instances where they opened the tavern for business in the morning, only to find wine glasses, liquor bottles, and pots and pans mysteriously moved out of place and rearranged during their absence.

The noises continued for four hours. I told the owners that despite the fact that the server needed to be worked on, there was no way in hell I was going to go upstairs and do it- they were just going to have to wait until morning. They were cool with that, so I finished my work, packed my tools and hastened out the door.

I went back in the morning and found out that Dave had moved stuff around after the owners had locked the house up. They also once again insisted that they weren't yanking my chain. I'm convinced to this day that whatever was up in that attic, it wasn't a tavern employee getting paid overtime to drive some poor computer tech insane. The owners are genuinely friendly no-nonsense Wisconsinites, and I still talk to them from time to time.

Freakiest thing I've ever encountered, and I've seen some pretty whacked-out stuff. True story brahs.

[helloimluke]

http://www.youtube.com/MarbleHornets
Start from Entry #1.

[VideoGamer9]

Long read, but worth it.

http://www.angelfire.com/trek/caver/

[Brain_Explodes]

The story has a couple of different versions. This is a creepiest I find.

She commandeered the room in the basement of her dorm as soon as she realized she would have to pull an all-nighter in order to prepare for tomorrow’s final exam. Her roommate, Jenna, liked to get to bed early, so she packed up everything she thought she would need and went downstairs to study . . . and study . . . and study some more.

It was two o’clock, when she realized that she’d left one of the textbooks upstairs on her bed. With a dramatic sigh, she rose, and climbed the stairs slowly to her third-floor dorm room.
The lights were dim in the long hallway, and the old boards creaked under her weary tread. She reached her room and turned the handle as softly as she could, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside, so that the hall lights wouldn’t wake her roommate.

The room was filled with a strange, metallic smell. She frowned a bit, her arms breaking out into chills. There was a strange feeling of malice in the room, as if a malevolent gaze were fixed upon her. It was a mind trick; the all-nighter was catching up with her.

She could hear Jenna breathing on the far side of the room—a heavy sound, almost as if she had been running. Jenna must have picked up a cold during the last tense week before finals.

She crept along the wall until she reached her bed, groping among the covers for the stray history textbook. In the silence, she could hear a steady drip-drip-drip sound. She sighed silently. Facilities would have to come to fix the sink in the bathroom…again.

Her fingers closed on the textbook. She picked it up softly and withdrew from the room as silently as she could.

Relieved to be out of the room, she hurried back downstairs, collapsed into an overstuffed chair and studied until six o’clock. She finally decided that enough was enough. If she slipped upstairs now, she could get a couple hours’ sleep before her nine o’clock exam.

The first of the sun’s rays were beaming through the windows as she slowly slid the door open, hoping not to awaken Jenna. Her nose was met by an earthy, metallic smell a second before her eyes registered the scene in her dorm room. Jenna was spread-eagled on top of her bed against the far wall, her throat cut from ear to ear and her nightdress stained with blood. Two drops of blood fell from the saturated blanket with a drip-drip noise that sounded like a leaky faucet.

Scream after scream poured from her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself any more than she could cease wringing her hands. All along the hallway, doors slammed and footsteps came running down the passage.

Within moments other students had gathered in her doorway, and one of her friends gripped her arm with a shaking hand and pointed a trembling finger toward the wall. Her eyes widened in shock at what she saw. Then she fainted into her friend’s arms.

On the wall above her bed, written in her roommate’s blood, were the words: “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?”