Possible Possession?
My mate at work told me this one and has had it feature on Castle of Spirits It’s a little long, so please bear with me.

Wavey Lines

It all started when I bumped into some guys (let’s call them Dave and Andy) who I kind of knew through some friends in my local pub. It was a slow night and my friends hadn't arrived and these two guys started talking to me about the party they were arranging for that night. They'd apparently taken a break from organizing it and had decided to head for the pub for an hour. Anyway, before you know it, I'm heading back to their place (Andy’s parents were on holiday overseas at the time) as a newly invited guest and proceeded to have a drink and chat with some of the ladies there.

After an hour or two the party is slowing down and although there are about 20 people there, it’s kind of fizzling out, so some people went upstairs to chill and others went home. I was about to make my own way home when Dave suggested we 'do a Ouija board.' Now, although I have an open mind, I am extremely sceptical about the paranormal and things of this nature and thought 'why not?'

I got the impression these guys had perhaps done this only once or twice before as they didn't have a proper board, but instead used cut out bits of paper with letters and numbers etc handwritten on them. When it got to this point, I assumed I was having my leg pulled or at least the victim of a half-baked practical joke. I mean, cut out bits of paper for goodness sake!

Anyway, about 5 of us sat around the table with the bits of paper in front of us and a small shot glass upturned in the centre of the table. Andy told me that he would be the 'controller' of the board and would be the one the spirits directed things through. Everyone touched the glass gently with the tip of their right forefinger and Andy closed his eyes and asked for any spirits to speak to us. What follows is what happened to the best of my memory and I apologise for the length of it, but I feel it is all relevant:

Almost immediately the glass began to slowly rotate. No one was pressing down on it, nor did anyone seem to be pushing it but there it was right in front on me moving in a circular motion. Andy asked if there was anyone there and the glass shot to YES. Not moved slowly, but it moved as if someone had dragged it across the table very quickly. This was impossible for any of the 5 of us as we were all merely touching the glass very lightly; however at this time I was still convinced I was the victim of a joke. Andy asked who we were talking to and the glass immediately spelt out H-I-T-L-E-R.

By now I was even more convinced that it was a joke and I laughed. As soon as I laughed the glass flew off the table and hit the wall and I stopped laughing. Dave and Andy were quite indignant at this and insisted that if wanted to continue I had to take it seriously. I agreed and we resumed. We once again obtained 'Hitler' and began asking him all sorts of questions to which the answers seemed a bit dubious. Dave and Andy seemed to think we were actually speaking with a spirit called 'The Joker' whom they said they'd spoken to many times and who takes on the guise of whomever you wish to speak, thus making you think you've got someone in particular when in reality you are speaking with him. We spoke to The Joker for about half an hour and then we ended the session and had a drink.

About half an hour later one of the guys asked me if there was someone I wanted to contact, and seeing as my Grandfather had died the previous year and I was fascinated and determined to know if I was indeed being wound up, we set the 'board' up again and resumed, this time asking to speak with my Grandfather. After about five minutes of absolutely nothing happening apart from boredom I was convinced that the guys were joking with me and was about to take my finger off the glass when it started vibrating. Not moving or rotating but vibrating. Andy asked if my Grandfather was there and the reply came YES. This was my chance to really test them and I asked for proof that we were talking to him. I asked for my Grandmother's first name which was Deborah. The glass went straight to the letter D and I swear I nearly fell off my chair and I started to get a bit scared when it then went to E. My fellow Ouija pals asked me if this was correct so far but I don't think they needed to ask me as I must have been white as a sheet and shaking like a leaf. Then it went to N and eventually spelt D-E-N-I-S-E and I relaxed again but it was a bit close for comfort. What happened in the next ten minutes I will never forget.

Dave was really angry that we seemed to have found The Joker again and swore at him and told him to leave the board. This really seemed to inflame the spirit and the glass started rotating round and round very fast. Our fingers had to be quick to keep up with it. Andy asked who we were talking to again and the glass kept on rotating. He asked again and it vibrated stronger than before and kept on rotating. Eventually after several requests for the spirit to reveal its identity it suddenly went to the letter S and stopped. We kept our fingers on the glass for several seconds without anything happening and then it very suddenly moved and spelt A-T-A-N. Dave suggested we end the session immediately and everyone except Andy took their finger off the glass. Andy’s eyes had rolled up in his head and he was mumbling to himself. I was now half way between thinking this was either a very good wind up or that it was indeed real.

Suddenly Andy stood up, violently shoving his chair across the room into his Mother's fireplace and ran out of the room. Everyone else sat there looking at each other wondering what to do. Then we heard a scream from upstairs and ran up to see what was going on. We opened one of the doors and we saw Andy with his hands wrapped very tightly round the throat of one of the female party guests and two of her friends were trying to drag him off with no success. He was a big guy anyway but they couldn't even move him. The four of us who were at the table ran in and just managed to drag him off and I swear that girl had massive red finger marks round her throat. This was no joke I was experiencing – he meant to hurt her. Andy was snorting and swearing as we dragged him off and his face was bright red and he looked furious. He even tried to bite our fingers as we dragged him down the stairs. The next thing I witnessed finally convinced me that this was no joke. As we pulled him down the stairs his jeans came down and he “fell out” of his boxer shorts, but he did nothing to protect his modesty even though there were several women present. If this was a joke, he was willing to embarrass himself in order for it to work. He was more concerned at trying to hurt us than adjusting his clothing.

By now there were about six people holding him down while he writhed and spat at us, swearing profusely. We threw water over him and slapped his face but still he fought us with all his strength. Dave decided the only way to stop him doing this was to break the glass which still sat on the table. We grabbed it and took it outside to the patio and he threw it as hard as he could at the concrete and IT BOUNCED! Three or four more times he did it until someone found a hammer and we broke the glass with it. Immediately the noise stopped and there was Andy lying on the floor asking why everyone was holding him down.

I know that all sounds like the script from a bad horror movie but it happened just as I told it. I realise this experience began in a pub and continued at a party where alcohol was being drunk but nobody was visibly drunk in my opinion and although I thought so for a while, I am now convinced it was not a joke.

Occasionally I bump into Dave in the same pub and I try to get him to admit it was a joke, telling him I'm not angry and I admired them keeping up the gag for so long but he just chuckles and says he can't believe I still think it was a joke. He says Andy moved away soon after and he never sees him anymore. Why would he keep up the pretence? Suffice it to say I have never used a Ouija board since.

/Wavey Lines

Now I know I've only got his word for it, but he's convinced that it was real!
(Herr Doktor Lemminge Is bored, so cheer me up!, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 11:03, 13 replies)

ghosts are really really dull
ghosts. let's face it. bunch of peedos init!
I mean it's a little odd that they usually happen to haunt teenage girls.

yeah my family home is haunted like crazy. It's like there's a party going on downstairs every night. Things are moved around quite pointlessly. But it really calmed down once the girls of the house got less sexually exciting for the pervy ghosts.

Somehow my bedroom was always left alone being a boy and all, but sister...age 13... the place was like changing rooms was being filmed twice a week.

I did think she was making it all up, but my parents later admitted that they were constantly thinking about moving to get away from it all.

Years later I tried to get sister to admit that she was making it all up. No, it was all true. We went back on the train at Christmas and first thing we did was run upstairs to look for evidence of ghostly presence in her bedroom. This does sound a little weird but there was pink ectoplasm on the walls.

It wasn't a "WOO!" moment. A few dribbles of ectoplasm aren't that exciting unless you believe in ghosts and are desperate for evidence to show your mates.

So there are some sad pervy spirits that we grew up with. If anything it just feels dirty and a bit sad that all these spirits wanted to do was perve for years on end and still haven't really gone away.
(pineapple_juice, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:57, 3 replies)

Monk-ey Business
Contrary to my absolute insistence of a couple of days ago, I have had many spooky and unexplainable incidents in my life. But the one that still sits solidly in my mind, even 11 years later, is the one that I shall tell you about today.

Are we sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.

I was barely seventeen, and I once killed a boy with a Fender Guitar. I don’t remember if it was a Telecaster or a Stratocaster, but I do remember that it had a heart of chrome and a voice like a horny angel...

Hang on a minute, I’m getting myself confused with Meatloaf again.

Anyway, I too was barely seventeen, though had not committed any sort of foul atrocity (unless the incessant self gratification can be counted as such). It was my first (and only) season in panto (oh yes it was!), and we were mid way through rehearsals (at which my character, Sergeant Spring was coming along nicely). As we finished up, a few drinks were suggested at the local. Yes, I was underage, but life in small-town Essex was very different then, and so we made our way over to the pub.

A few pints of Caffrey’s later, and talk turned to spooky tales. It was suggested, I forget by who, that we take a drive out to the Monastery near Tiptree. Whoever suggested it was insistent that you could hear the monks chanting, and that sometimes they stood by the road, their cowls hanging low over their faces.

And so we leapt in to a 1983 Ford Fiesta, and our adventure began.

We arrived at the head of the lane that leads down to the Monastery. It was 11.30pm. It’s a winding road, so it took about 10 minutes to get to the Monastery gate. We sat there for a minute or two, messing about, and then carried on to the end of the lane to turn around. This particular lane ends in a Graveyard. Once again, we sat and messed around for a bit, until someone opened the car door.

Instantly, the atmosphere in the car changed. Not to fear, as such, but there was certainly a sense that we should be making our way home. The car was put in to reverse, we turned around, and started driving back.

Looking back over my shoulder, I saw in the road light sources that appeared to be following us. I thought it was another car – until I realised that there had been no other cars along that road, and beyond that there were no roads joining it that another car could have turned in from. And, as soon as they had appeared, they were gone again.

The driver had seen this too, and (as I believe is the parlance) put the pedal to the metal. We exploded from the top of the lane, safe as houses. It was 11.45pm.

Now, let’s do some maths. 10 minutes down to the Monastery. 5 minutes from there to the graveyard. Double that to include the journey back. Add another 5 minutes for messing about time. 35 minutes. Yet the whole journey had, according to watches and clocks, taken 15 minutes.

Where the hell had the other 20 gone?

Over the next few days one of the girls in the car insisted that she’d channelled a spirit at the graveyard which had caused all the weirdness (in fact, she claimed he had a hat that had goat horns in it and he was running about her house cackling and such), which is clearly histrionic bollocks. But I would still very much like to know what happened to those 20 minutes, or if we just had a group hallucination.

I think I’ll plump for the latter!
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:55, 7 replies)

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Ahem.

Tales of the unexplained. Now - do we make this a spooky one or a funny one? Sod it, let's do both. It's nearly home time on the other side of the planet so sod my employers!

Spooky One

'twas a cold, dark night in the depths of Devon. Had spent the day running myself ragged and decided that instead of sleeping rough would find a B&B for the night.

Found one equipped with the mandatory scary old woman and her inbred son.

Managed, being a man of the world (aged 19) to get lost (I know) on the way back between the pub and the B&B, and ended up spending the night sleeping in their hedgerow, not realising that I was actually about 2m from the front door.

That night was spent with the wind howling and birds screeching, Land Rovers passing. It was like a pre-Prison Break adventure, and quite fun despite that!

Funny One

How the hell did a div like me luck into a reasonably good (if ridiculously unbalanced) life?

Hmm.

Ed.
(Eds Meds Mathskillz=1,Socialskillz=0, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:54, 1 reply)

The Ghostly Midnight Jogger of Newcastle-under-Lyme
When I was 16 or 17, I used to be able to drink without getting Satan's own hangover, and I would capitalise on this ability most weekends.

One Saturday night in October, I was wandering home after a night spent failing to pull in the drinking establishments of North Staffordshire. It being October, there were wet leaves on the ground - and, as we all know, where there are wet leaves, there is dog poo. I was, therefore, being careful(ish) about where I trod.

I heard footsteps approaching, and looked up as a man ran past me. "Fair enough," my snakebite-and-black-addled brain said, "Someone obviously couldn't sleep and decided to go for a jog."

This made perfect sense for three seconds. And then... and then it stopped making sense. So I looked up and over my shoulder.

The runner was wearing a toga.

Possibly.

Or I could have been a bit squiffy.

But if he wasn't a ghostly legionary from the fort that had used to be a mere mile and a half away, out training for a spectral charity fun-run, I wouldn't have a story, would I?

Come to think of it, I don't have much of a story either way.

*sigh*
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:46, 5 replies)

He just disappeared.
My father, when I was young, was the teacher in charge of school upkeep during the summer holidays. Once a week, we’d stop through to make sure nobody had smeared shit on the walls, then we’d check the meters and go home. For my sister and I, these trips were particularly fun. We could run through the corridors of a school! We could shout in a school! We could do cartwheels in a classroom! Best yet, we could see what the boys’ toilets looked like!

On one nondescript summer day, my dad, my sister and myself made the usual walk to the school. We got up to the usual bumbling about, while my dad got up to his usual duties. Time came to leave.

“C’mon kids! Time to leave!”
“All right, dad!”

We saw him walking towards the front door, then, I swear to Darwin and Tesla, he fucking disappeared. One second, there was a dad. The next, nothing. Right before our bloody eyes. There was no mist, no image dissolving like in the movies. CLICK – he was gone, and the only place he could have gone was through the front door.

My sister and I thought he was playing a joke, a bit of a scary hide-and-seek. We ran through the building, searching every locker and cranny. Nothing. Then we started crying out, scared. Nothing. Surely a father – and my dad was the greatest, at this point would sheepishly emerge to calm us down. Nothing. Three hours passed and we had no sign of our father, we couldn’t go home because we were locked in and we couldn’t get to a phone to call our mother. So we sat in a corridor and waited.

“Are you coming, kids? What are you doing sitting down, I told you to come here!”

And there was dad again, standing in the same spot.

“DAD! WHERE DID YOU GO!! WE WERE SO SCARED!”

“I, well, I didn’t go anywhere, I’ve been standing here the whole time, sillies.”

“NO, DAAAAAAAAAD, you disappeared! We were sad! We cried! We looked everywhere for you!”

“Don’t be stupid, kids. Obviously, I…”

And then he checked his watch. Indeed, three hours has passed. He turned a whiter shade of green, and we walked home in silence.

I had spent the years following assuming that my dad had played a dirty trick on us, that he took it as an opportunity to skip out on his kids so he could go to the bar or something. I brought it up again a few years later.

“I swear on your mother’s life, I didn’t go anywhere. I remember calling out to you kids, then suddenly the two of you were sitting down. Three hours were gone, but not a single second had passed for me.”

“Yeah, sure, dad.”

“I swear on your life, I didn’t hide from you. And in those years since it happened, I lie awake at night wondering what happened to me during those three hours. I – [voice cracking] - don’t know what happened…”

I’m inclined to believe my dad and to believe my own eyes (HE FUCKING DISAPPEARED!!!) But was it a dad playing a particularly devious joke on his kids? Eh, I’m not so certain of that. I certainly can’t explain what happened, and dad’s admitted to all of his other practical jokes by now.

There was only one way he could have run away to hide, and that was through the door. That door was locked. All I know is that he disappeared right before my eyes.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:46, 12 replies)

Ooh, here's one.
I spent three years training to be a graphic designer in the late 1980s.

Eighteen years on I now work as a regeneration adviser. It's like my life took a different turn based on a random decision made years ago. I feel like I'm living in a parallel world or something, whereas real me is sitting at a computer doing whizzy graphicy stuff, whilst simultaneously bemoaning the advent of computers cos they've taken all the skill out of drawing, and really missing the smell of magic markers...

What do you mean, 'there's something on my back'?

*Edit* The irony of a massive Who geek working in regeneration is not lost on me...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:42, 7 replies)

A supernatural occurance happened today.
Im not sure what caused this, but there must have been a rift in the space time continueum. I think im phased out of reality.
But whatever it is, some freakish anomoly caused the QOTW to be changed very very early today.

*cue twilight zone music*
(Miggyman, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:40, 2 replies)

I've had several strange encounters
I'm not saying there's not a reasonable explanation for these things, but they were very creepy when I experienced them and I still don't know what could have caused them.

First, I was about 10 when my Grandad died, in my house as it happens. Died right in the chair opposite me, which obviously hit me quite hard. But anyway.

A week or two later, we were all sitting in the same room he died (the living room) watching TV. Now, it was quite late so there were no windows open, the front door was locked for the night and there was no capacity for a gust to blow through the house.

While we were all sitting there, the living room door blew wide open. I have no idea what could have caused it, but for a long time afterwards I thought it was my Grandad's soul leaving the house. Logic dictates that there must be a reasonable explanation for it, but to this day I don't know how it could have happened.

Second, this only happened a few months ago. If you live in London you may have seen it too, but it was eerie nonetheless.

It was New Years Eve, and me and the girlfriend couldn't be arsed to go to the Thames for the fireworks so we just stayed in for once. So, come midnight we rushed outside to watch any fireworks that people might have been setting off.

A few minutes passed, and we were happily watching the fireworks above us. But then, we saw a flaming ball in the sky. I immediately dismissed it as a firework, but after 30 seconds of it just floating there in the sky I began to think maybe it wasn't a firework.

It was quite far away, but it was still a reasonable size, and would have been many times bigger than a normal firework. It was bathed in flames, and was slowly travelling across the nightsky.

Even if it was a balloon or something that someone had set off from the ground, it would have either burnt out or disintegrated and fallen to the ground by now. This was about 3 minutes after seeing it.

No, instead it was still hanging there in the sky. Then, it started moving across the sky; quite fast really. For a brief second, I thought it was a meteorite. However, after going one way, it began to go back on itself.

It was at this point that I grabbed a pair of binoculars to get a closer look. Upon closer inspection, it was definitely quite large; and a reasonable distance away. I couldn't see any details, apart from a big ball of flames. I could also make out smoke floating up from it, however it was not a plume of black smoke; rather just light smoke from intense heat. Like the smoke you get when you overheat a cooking pan. (Bad analogy, I know)

Anyway, after about 5 minutes of this ball travelling around the sky, it began to travel away from us in the opposite direction until we couldn't see it anymore. However, mere seconds after the first one disappeared, a second one appeared in the same spot where the first one appeared. (I hope you're following this)

This second flaming ball hung in the air as well, and didn't travel around the sky as much as the previous one. This happened for about 2 minutes, after which time the first ball actually came back. What scared me is that the two flaming balls actually then travelled towards each other. Eventually, they both came to the same spot, and then travelled back in the opposite direction of us.

We waited around for about half an hour talking about it, and seeing if anymore would appear; but none did. We saw those flaming balls from about midnight until half 12, and I still have no idea what they could have been.
(Dazzorifik is bored of b3ta, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:39, 12 replies)

Friend of mine
Showed me a video he'd took on his phone of his young daughter opening her presents a few Christmas mornings back.
Suddenly, she looked up towards the cornor of the room, and exclaimed "Lucy!" in a happy voice.
The camera pans to the corner and there is moving shadow, about the size of a small girl.
Lucy was a young girl of about 5 or 6 who had died of meningitis in 1991 according to his neighbours. His daughter had not been made aware of this.
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:39, Reply)

hmmmmmm...
Many moons ago I was on a bus from Gloucester to the village I lived in when something really strange happened.

The bus stopped and an old man got on. He was holding the side of his head as if he had a very bad earache, I was the only other passenger, it was late October, 6.45pm and was dark outside.

As I said the bus was completely empty but the old man shuffled along the aisle until he reached my seat, he stared at me for a second and seemed to mumble something under his breath. He then walked on, but sat immediately behind me. As the bus pulled away I was sure he mumbled something again.

I felt very uncomfortable.

After about 10 minutes the old man got up from his seat, still with his hand to the side of his head and walked towards the driver. I was very relieved that he was no longer behind me, but I had a horible feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

As he drew level with the driver he turned to face me and smiled whilst lowering his hand from his head.

I was petrified, as the bus driver seemed oblivious of the mans presence, and the bus was motoring along dark lanes at high speed.

Then the old man reached up and pressed the button to tell the driver to stop at the next bus stop.

As the old man got off the bus and walked down the side towards me, he looked up and smiled. It was then that I recognised him.....it was the old man who got on the bus every night and sat behind me.

I normally had a chat with him most nights, but I had not recognised him with his hand on the side of his head.

(This post may contain previously used material and was produced in an environment that might have a few nuts lying about somewhere)
( insignificantsnivellinglittleturd I Like Peas, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:37, 2 replies)

...and just because this has to go on the first page

Cue music and mysterious naked dancing
( Fireflier La la la la, not listening on, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:36, 1 reply)

My neighbour is a mystery.
He's an old fellah - must be in his 90's but seems friendly enough.

Every day for years, he has always had just one bottle of milk delivered.
Then, just the other day, there was two bottles stood outside his house. Nothing strange there but, the day after... three.
Then four the day after that and then five...

This morning, as I passed his house there was 8 or 9 bottles stood on his step. I've no idea what he's up to, but I haven't seen him since he developed this intense thirst for milk.

I don't think it's doing him much good either - there's a terrible smell coming from his house.
( Zak McFlimby Twibbling @McFlimby, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:36, 3 replies)

my brother's stupid friend
is convinced that ghosts exist. utterly convinced.

now this in itself isn't what makes him stupid. believe or don't believe, that's up to you. what is truly stupid is his reason for it.

once upon a time, chris (as that is his name) was painting his bedroom whilst his mother was on holiday. he got bored, as teenage boys do, and left it half painted. when his mother arrived home, she nagged him into finishing it.

but chris couldn't find the paint. it wasn't anywhere. he looked high and low. so did his mother. eventually, he went back into his bedroom.

and there it was.

in the middle of the floor.

all painty and open lidded and ready to be used.

and apparently, this is concrete evidence for believing in ghosts. because only a ghost could have put it there. obviously.

chris is a lovely guy. but this always makes me think:

TWAT.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:35, Reply)

A real one
A few years ago several people rang the police, having seen a car run off the road at night, with its headlights "blazing".

The police took a look but found nothing. Because of the number of reports another search was ordered - and the wreckage of a car was found half buried in the undergrowth. The driver was little more than a skeleton, and the car had been there for at least 5 months.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burpham,_Surrey#Ghost_sighting_on_A3

But the truly spine chilling discovery was yet to come - forensics checked the driver's dental records... and he was Welsh.

OoooooEEEEH!!!!! not really.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:34, 4 replies)

Evil!
How is it that I can leave my 3 kids alone in a room for two seconds and return to find that everything has been messed up.

Any room will have all the drawers emptied over the floor, items too heavy for them to move themselves have been turned upside down and toys everywhere. One time I went to the bathroom to find out my 6 year old had somehow pissed on the ceiling (I was impressed as even I couldn't do that).

The kids blame all this on poltergeists, but I just think that they're the spawn of satan.
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:32, 2 replies)

And another time
I saw a tiny, dead baby ghost by the side of the road. :-(

But on closer inspection it was a carrier bag.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:28, Reply)

U.F.Offs
When I was but a little firefly (lower case and everything), I was an avid reader. Anything about the wierd and wonderful was devoured. I still read lots, but Harvard Business Review just doesn't have the same impact on my imagination. For example...

Aged 7 or so, I was in the back of the car coming back from viewing a house we were thinking of buying in Edinburgh. Driving along a long straight road, I saw some lights zooming along a bit off the road before before they sped upwards to the heavens. Despite my parents protestations, I was convinced that I had seen a UFO, and I held onto this belief for many years.

It's only recently that I've admitted to myself that, yes, we were driving along beside the airport, and UFOs probably don't have Caledonian written on the side of them...

Reality is just so boring compared to the inside of my head sometimes.
( Fireflier La la la la, not listening on, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:28, Reply)

I dreamt that i was eating my pillow!!!
And when I woke up my giant marshmallow had disappeared.

oooooeeeehhhh......!!!!!
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:27, Reply)

WTF?
Having a wonderful time reliving my childhood while watching Arthur C. Clarke's Mysterious World on the Paranormal channel on Sky...

Channel 212 on Sky...

Edit: Strange But True is also on the Paranormal Channel!
(Lip Up Fatty Fatty Reggae still loves BBQ food on, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:24, 2 replies)

Magic?
I once saw a tractor turn into a field.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:24, 3 replies)

Better do this before any one else does
My biggest disappointment is when I enter a reply too late for the QOTW
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:22, Reply)

It's bugged me for a few years this one
but when I was on a coach several years ago, travelling south on the M6 through the Lake District, I noticed a guy a few hundred metres away running through a field.

Nothing unusual in that you might think, apart from the fact that the guy seemed to be running at about the same speed as the coach (~60mph). Every time he reached a hedge/stone wall he jumped over it (reaching up to 2 or 3 times his own body height in some cases). This continued for a couple of miles until he changed course and ran off into the distance until we could no longer see him.

I would have seriously doubted myself, but my friend who was sitting next to me noticed exactly the same thing. To this day neither of us has been able to explain it. It was very clearly a man running, to the extent that we could make out details on his clothing, but he was moving at a speed and in a way I've never seen before or since.
( rubberduck should only be used after consulting with your GP, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:15, 9 replies)

i used to live in my parents house
where we'd hear a person walk up the stairs and along the landing. also things would go missing. it was all very odd. My sisters both claimed to see a girl i na white dress with red sash and a man in a brown coat. The man was always in the hallway and the girl would be upstairs.
( Rev. Jesse. broke his ankle, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:14, Reply)

Fifth...

And I would've been first if it wasn't for you meddling kids!

(And the fact I was posting on the new 'off topic' board)

Curses!
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:13, Reply)

Tremendous
Kaol's suggestion and he's not here today.

Anyway, to my brief tale of scariness.

Many moons ago, my parents and I were out somewhere one evening. Can't remember the details, but it's not important. Anyway, my sister, who was a teenager at the time, was home alone, and when we returned later we found her shaking and crying.

Turns out that she'd put out the lights and gone to bed. But when she turned out her bedroom light, she could see the other lights in the house.

Thinking she must have forgotten to switch them off, she put on her bedroom light, got up and went through to switch off the living room lights again. Which she did. Then returned to bed.

Only when she put off her bedroom light again, the lights in the rest of the house had mysteriously come on once more.

Naturally, she freaked out at this point, which is how we found her on our return, with all the lights on.

Personally I think she dreamt it or something. But it scared the shit out of her regardless.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:08, 1 reply)

TUrd
I thought that I'd farted but, on smelling it, I think it was the ghost of something that had crawled up my arse and died.
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:07, Reply)

Cemeteries
.
I was taking a shortcut through the local cemetery on the way to the pub when I heard:

"CLINK-CLINK"

I looked round - couldn't see anything so I kept walking and heard:

"CLINK-CLINK" only closer this time. But I still couldn't see anything. This was starting to freak me so I walked faster and

"CLINK-CLINK" right in front of me. SO I flashed my torch at the gravestone in front of me and saw a little old man, dressed in workmans clothes, chisling away at a gravestone.

I heaved a sigh of relief. A stonemason working late.

"Bloody hell mate" I said "You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought you were a ghost."

The man smiled.

"What are you doing here so late" I asked.

He looked up.

"They spelt me name wrong" CLINK-CLINK...


Cheers

Thank you very much. I'll be under the pier all week....


( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:05, 2 replies)

First?
??

EDIT: Woo yay!

I wonder if anyone else remembers a program called "Strange But True"?

Freaky as hell.

Anyway, one episode focused on a poultergeist, scared the hell out of me I can tell you.

One bit I especially remember, was that the woman of the house went into the bedroom to tell the kids off for running around, only for them to protest their innocence.

As she turned away, the heavy chest of drawers 'moved itself' in front of the door. The camera then zoomed into this womans face, and the look on her face scared the sweet bejesus out of me. (Oh come on, I was only about 8 at the time)

So anyway, I had nightmares for days, and finally admitted what had me so scared to my Dad. He promised me that he'd sort the ghosts out for me, and so I went to bed a little less scared than the night before. When I woke up, something had moved me and my brothers bunk beds into the middle of the room, without waking us!

I was suitably terrified for a long time, had nightmares for a good while, on and off.

It wasn't until my 14th/15th birthday when the family were all sat round reminiscing, that my eldest brother laughed and said "Hey, remember the time we all moved Nathan's bed to scare him?"

Was not best pleased I can tell you. Turned out that my Dad had tucked me into bed, then gone and told the other 5 kids of his great idea, and as a family activity had decided to move my bed, then after it was done sent my brother to bed in his bunk. Bastards.

But, I suppose I'm over it now....*twitch*
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:05, 7 replies)