Tarot Cards
One of the girls at university is big on weird crap e.g. Tarot cards and decided to do a reading on a girl i fancied at the time in my presence.

Weird that the first major card that came out was lovers!

Less than a week later i got blown out.
Oh well
(The lord Boo., Thu 20 Apr 2006, 19:53, Reply)

Ruining Christmas...
Not really on topic, but there ya go...

A few years back, I had some very twisted friends in Vancouver.

So one christmas a few years back, they kidnap the baby Jesus from the nativity scene outside the local church. Nicking some fence posts, they crucify the doll on the front lawn of the church. On the way home, they get hungry, and get a bucket of chickenwings. Someone has the inspired idea to make a wreath out of the bones, which they hung on the door of the church. Not content with that, they proceed to spraypaint across the front of the church:

CHURCH OF THE POISONED MIND

in letter three feet tall.

All this was done, by the way, early in the morning on christmas day.

I've seen the photographic proof, and I'm so, so sorry I missed it.

-me
( Demonic Omelette, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 19:21, Reply)

for all our troubles
We made an ouija board, burnt insence, drew the curtains, turned off the lights and lit a candle.
And absolutely nothing happend

I did once get lost and really scared in a rather small bit of forest at night.....
(bovine intervention, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 19:20, Reply)

Well, I lived in Tower road...
...in Dartford which is supposed to be the most haunted road in Kent or whatever, it was on the same road as a spiritulist church (supposedly used by vikings or whatnot for sacrafices because the blood ran uphill or something mad like that) and it was a pub called The Oddfellows.
I had been living there for nigh on a year when i woke up to see a small girl staring out of my window.
At the time i thought to myself that i had left something there and was seeing something like a mop wearing a dress.
This happened 3 times throughout the next 3 months, until one night she walked out of my closed door!

Later on that year when my younger brother was using that particular room for a bedroom i went into his frankly abysmal attempt at tidying up to play playstation when an unused telly (which had been there since we moved in, it was broken methinks) literally flew across the room and hit my knee!

True story! Believe!
( Supersam11 Can I go on the slides please?, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 19:14, Reply)

Back when I was at my last University...
...me and some drunken mates decided to cut up a newspaper and put all the letters and numbers out and tried to contact the dead. Nothing happened for best part of half an hour, and I still don't know whether someone in the group was being a shit, but we eventually spelt out the name 'DODI'. Of course this wasn't long since Princess Di and Dodi Alfayed had become intimately connected to the mangled insides of that Mercedes, so we were a little worried about what we were doing and stopped. When we started to shovel all the bits of newspaper into the bin, we realised that the story printed on the other side of the letters and numbers was about Di and Dodi and their 'accident' in that tunnel. To this day I still don't know whether someone in the group was pushing the glass around, or whether the ghost of Egypt's richest shopkeepers son was trying to contact us from beyond the grave. Personally I believe that someone was mucking around... but you never know...

Man I've just read that back and it sounds like a complete load of bullshit that you might read in the Daily Mail. Sorry.
(Biromunch, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 19:08, Reply)

my mum is going to hell
there was a neighbouring family in my street who my family had had fallings out with, they where claiming benefits whilst working etc and generally being dicks all the time, ill refer to the father of the family as "Mr.Dickhead"

my mum decided to use some black magic to get rid of them, and my sister decided to help, so they did the ritual (to kill Mr.Dickhead) etc (no chickens were killed) and then they put it out of their minds.

a few weeks later in the local paper, whom should pop up in the obituaries, but Mr.Dickhead, all who knew of mothers doings where in shock and awe, and more than slightly worried that is, until we look out of the window, and there he is, loading some things into the boot of his car. not only did my mum perform some "black magic" but apparently it worked, to an extent, just on the wrong Mr.Dickhead.
(Jimmai, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 19:06, Reply)

Not necessarily evil, but fun.
Well... I'm Pagan, y'see, and the funniest things ever have happened in the woods with mundanes walking their dogs suddenly coming face to face with a bunch of rather eccentric people in dark robes and with axes (for firewood, natch). One guy thought he was clever (after stupidly staring at us preparing a nice little ritual space) and came up to us saying "ah, you're those role-player types, aren't you?" My friend just grinned and said "no". The guy boggled and departed rather swiftly.

The best thing about it, though, was his dog going around our circle twice clockwise, sniffing it happily and trotting off. At least he was cool with what was going on.
(Auntie Dalek molester extraordinaire, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 19:04, Reply)

Sort of on topic
every night at around 1am to 2am, if im awak hear screaming in the street, like a litle girl it goes sort of like scream scream scream scream, if you get me, and then stops, and noone is outside ever, its pretty weird
(Jimmai, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:56, Reply)

At University...
Late one night, in one of our rooms in halls, we drunkenly decided it was a good idea to try playing with a Ouija board.

So, cue us in our disshevelled state finally managing to form a circle around this board, and all placed our hands on the cup in the centre. After about 10 minutes of giggle filled chants and hums, the glass "mysteriously moved by itself". We, being drunk, thought this was the best thing ever, and all watched, in this trance like state, as the cup spelt out random messages etc.

At this point, my friend Shaun decided it was prime time to leap head first into the centre of the group. So as we were all watching this beaker moving around, suddenly we were greeted by a huge 18 stone Scot jumping on us, shouting "GWRARGH! I'M THE GHOST OF WEE! GEE!"

Most of us found this immensely funny, except for one girl, Jules. Rather tipsy and quite drawn into the moment, she screamed louder than anything I have ever heard, leapt to her feet, and managed to set her hair on fire on a candle we had lit.

However, this was not the greatest of her worries: at this point, her hair was being batted out by her friends, with her furious screams of:

"No! No! I have to go! I've shit myself!"

Sure enough, Shaun had literally scared the shit out of her. Nice night that was.
(Ant Marching And for my next trick... GWARGGHHGWWGGGH!, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:54, Reply)

I find it scary that all these idiots believe in these stupid Ouiji Boards and all that crap.

Somebody moves the glass you retards!
( Ghostwriter can't pick up his pencil, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:48, Reply)

ah yes. my fundy Christian era comes to mind
I was praying about something or other one day, and I got a bit over-excited. I started having a go at the devil, saying he was weak and God would squish him and he was stupid to try and rebel against God and stuff.

All of a sudden, I swear, all the traffic noise from outside stopped and the room seemed to get darker, as I could feel an evil presence filling the room.

So I put a Graham Kendrick tape on and sang to the lordylord.
(teasus likes tea, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:39, Reply)

Ok maybe nor so bad
I take back my criticism of this weeks post as apeloverage has just nearly made me wet myself, sole in peril indeed!
(lankynyack, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:36, Reply)

I wonder..
When Derek Acorah dies, will he haunt people, thus appearing on further TV programmes about ghosts.
( Didyoumissme1, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:22, Reply)

Two stories
Firstly, a group of mates of mind went and played Call of Cthulu at midnight, by candlelight, inside West Kennet long barrow, but had to quit when the guy running the game got too scare to carry on.

Secondly, went round to another mates one night, he got a set of cards out and a glass and we started up a Oija session on a tble in his bedroom, things were getting quite freaky, when his older brother went outside and tapped on the upstairs window with a fishing rod. the guy with bhis back to that window managed to leap up and over the table and over me who was sitting with his back to the door before any of the rest of us could move.
(ceebs, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:16, Reply)

Well....
It wad pretty damn scary when I actually summoned Satan and he possessed me. Luckily for me after he spent a few hours in my head he was begging to be released - no joke.

See, he's not that great - probably why he normally possesses little girls.
(Eldraduffin is not paranoid, they ARE all out to get him., Thu 20 Apr 2006, 18:10, Reply)

Message from the other side...
As a paramedic I get to see dead people on a fairly regular basis - however, it’s very dull, usually quite smelly and spookiness is pretty much non-existent.

My partner decided to alleviate the boredom once whilst waiting for the police and coroner to take over at the scene of an elderly deceased Aboriginal lady. He picked up a pair of clap-sticks (carved wood used for making aboriginal musical rhythms) and proceeded to do a little dance around the deceased’s body whilst chanting "Oh-spirit-of-the-big-fat-dead-lady-can-you-hear-me."

It was just then that the spirit of the big fat dead lady decided to rather loudly exit her body via her anus.

Of course it could have just been post-death flatulence, but I like to think she was trying to reach my partner from the other side...
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 17:43, Reply)

in the park
me and three friends were really bored so decided to go to the "haunted" part of the park where no one went.
it was surrounded by bushes.
so we were sat on the floor with a load of pieces of paper in a circle with different letters an numbers on.
as we were contacting the "dark side" we heard moaning.now we were all scared cos no one we were with
had done it.
then it got really scary because the noises were louder. so my friend said "what do you want?"
and put his hand on the can we were using as a pointer.

then this voice shouted
" i want you to shut the fuck up! i'm tryin to sleep here".
the local tramp was sat behind the bushes.
(torture bunny lives under the kitchen sink, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 17:42, Reply)

Virgin Suicides
Well - not really, he had loads of birds....my brother committed suicide in 1991 at the age of 22. He was in the airforce and had a g/friend at the time who we had never met. Met her at subsequent funeral/wake and we all became quite close. She left the airforce six months later and shifted back home, to put the memory behind her. She went out drinking with a friend who had no idea about what my bro had done and this was the way she wanted it...at the end of the night, her friendd turned to her, grabbed her arm rfeally hard and said "the argument wasn't your fault Wendy...", when she asked her what she had said, her friend said again "the argument wasn't your fault, I had my reasons"...turns out that Wendy had been blaming herself for a massive row that her and my bro had had two days before he did what he did...her friend cannot remember saying anything, but just seeing a picture of a guy in military uniform smiling at her in her head....

Non believers?? Fuck you all!!! : )))
(essbeenz there done that, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 17:37, Reply)

With apologies to Jimmy Carr
I'm not a spiritual person, the closest I get to an experience with the darkside is when I have what's known as a wank seance. This is when you masturbate and hear a "ooooh"ing noise and see all your dead relatives.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 17:24, Reply)

The bandwagon trundles on...
I went on a tour of the Neighbours set. Anyway, I went in the Bishop's house and I saw an opaque figure standing infront of me. It was Madge Bishop. Without thinking I blurted out "Hey Madge, why's Harold so fat?" to which she replied "Everytime he fucked me I gave him a biscuit". I'm strictly a Home and Away watcher nowadays.
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 17:16, Reply)

My house
Ah, I do like telling this story, though I do have to be careful who I tell it to, some people just say I’m mad/ mistaken.

The story takes place in my parents house, though I moved to halls in uni, I do still live there. Now, the house isn’t very old, I’d guess about 11-12 years now, so not your typical haunting affair. However, the house was built on the site of a school for kids with TB during the Victorian era.

My first experience must have been about 9 years ago, I was around 10 at the time, maybe younger. I was in bed one night, fast asleep. I woke up suddenly, I wasn’t woken by noise, but as I opened my eyes and struggled to see with out my glasses (moved to contacts a few years ago yay!) I saw a purple shape hanging over me, the closest thing I can compare it to is like the t-1000 in Terminator 2 when its all shiny and molten metal, mixed with a cloud. I screamed and watched it shoot out of my door, which was open at the time, despite the fact I can’t stand to be in a room alone with the door open (don’t know why) let alone sleep in one. The shape disappeared into the hall and I saw my dad burst out of his room and run into mine, there wasn’t a break in it, I can’t have woken up half way through a dream, it all happened at the same time. After much reassurance I was just dreaming and there was nothing to be afraid of I went back to sleep and nothing really happened for a few years. I just kinda forgot about it.

Then, about 6 years later I was tidying up after a few of my friends had made a real mess in my house and all gone home, it was at least 10 mins after the last had been picked and driven home by their parents, while I was tidying up in the hall way when suddenly I hear a voice from the landing, I clearly heard my name be called by a little girl, I was a little surprised and didn’t hear what was said after. I wasn’t to bothered by this, I went upstairs expecting that a TV or radio had been left on, but none of them were on, there was nobody in the streets around the house, totally silent. I was freaked out at this point. For a few weeks after things were odd, rooms got suddenly cold, even though the heating was on. At one point I was less then five meters from the electric fire, which was on full, and very hot, yet my skin was like ice. I got the feeling of some one watching me all the time, but I’d put that down to paranoia more then anything.

I remember feeling very, very depressed for no reason on November 11th, the anniversary of the end of world war I, which was very peculiar, I’d never been depressed before that but I was totally suicidal.

In the grand and rather bizarre climax of events, I was again in bed, just like the beginning I was drifting off to sleep, my vision suddenly fades and all I can see is cloudy white, with thin bluish lies appearing and eventually forming the outline of a little girl in Victorian dress, imagine a picture that hadn’t been coloured and your getting close to what I saw. The girl was motionless, then suddenly jumps towards me and shouts “boo” like a kid trying to give me a fright, I wasn’t afraid, I thought I was dreaming, but when the girl hit me, I felt a massive jolt in my back, like id been pulled from the inside. This shocked me and I could see normally again. I went to touch my back were I felt the jolt, and found my skin ice cold, but just in that patch, the rest of my skin was normal temperature, as warm as you’d expect for some one in bed. Now, I wasn’t afraid, but I was aware of fear, like I could tell some one in the room was frightened. Feeling like a spaz, I tried to talk to the girl, I was cringing at my self as a said thing like “don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you” and then the classic “if your hear give me a sign” I was just about to role over in shame and try to sleep when I felt another jolt, this time in my lower right leg, I went to touch is, again, as cold as ice. I didn’t get the feeling of fear any more, I could just feel loneliness, but not my own. I decided to talk again, for some reason I just knew what to say “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you, I’d like to be friends.” That moment I felt totally relief, happiness and joy all in one, like a wake washing over me, then nothing, total calm. I fell asleep soon after and never experienced anything like that again.

I don’t claim to be a sceptic, but I do usually approach things from a logical view, I don’t just believe random crap because it was on TV, but I’m convinced this was real, I think its something you have to experience before you can really understand, I’ve looked for logical explanations but I just can’t see any. This story is 100% true to my experience, I don’t believe any of it was due to dreams or my imagination.

People are entitled to their own opinions on the subject of ghosts, but don’t claim they don’t exist, you may not believe in them but until you can offer proof they don’t exist, you really shouldn’t make the claims.

PS, I know my story isn’t technically about screwing around with “the dark side, but I recon it’s worth mentioning.
(Mong goose, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 17:09, Reply)

Me and my Satanic friends
I fancied myself a bit of a sk8r punk in the late 80s. I never got good at skating, I just sat off to the side, smoked cigarettes and tried to look menacing. Me and my friends would run around town and hang out in abandoned warehouses, loading docks, etc, trying to find places to skate. Our favorite place, I shit you not, was the old sewage treatment plant (although that would be the best place to shit you - har har). The holding pools for the floaters and sinkers made nearly perfect half-pipes.

We did a bit of vandalizing out there. Spray painted Pentagrams, DK logos, and biohazzard symbols were our ego signatures.

Imagine our surprise a few months later when the local paper did a seven-part series on Satanism in the area. It was pretty comical. They would find feathers near a campfire and say that was proof positive of live Satanic sacrifices. Part three was an expose' on how the old sewage plant was a hotbed of Satanic activity. The DK logo was seen as the word DIE, and all the other graffitti was code staking out our "church."

With the town in a panic over the Unmentioned One, we decided to play it up. One guy stole a baby Jesus from a Nativity scene (it was near Christmas), and he was going to nail it to a little cross and put it back at Easter (he never did). Our best plan was to make people think there were Satanic butchers in the area. I found a chart showing where all the cuts of beef come from on a cow and a can a spraypaint. So we drove around looking for a herd of cattle to spray this chart on. We found one, but we learned a lot of things that night. One, cows are a lot bigger up close than they are from the road. Two, they are a lot meaner up close than they look from the road. And lastly, three drunk guys cannot sneak up on a herd of cattle through a dry cornfield, especially when one has a can of spraypaint going "clickety clickety clickety."
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 17:00, Reply)

We done the weejee board once right
and moments later my mate broke his leg by getting it stuck in a old school rowing machine
( Dai_Marzipan Ain't no party like an S Club party, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:55, Reply)

spooky
very tragically, my half brother's best friend andy lancaster was killed in a car crash when he was 17. he was in a coma for a week before he died.

shortly after the funeral, my brother was babysitting his half brother on his mum's side. little nick was about 3 at the time and was playing with one of those plastic toy telephones. suddenly he turned to my brother, held the phone out, and said clearly:

"it's for you. it's andy. he says he's ok now."

my brother shat himself and ran upstairs - some babysitter!!!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:52, Reply)

New-Tech, dead tech.
We were in RE talking about, in great mirth the principle of contacting the dead and all that. The whole class did not believe, spare for my good friend who shall remain nameless. Infact, he was against the whole idea, being as he is, a rather evangelical Christian.

Two students, lets call them Alpha and Beta take it upon themselves to construct a ouija board during the lesson and then say that a ghost is telling them thier friend sucks - or whatever. Everytime they put an object down and pushed it around, it was snatched from them by said friend. Until they produced a mobile and started spelling that they where smelly, or some other great insult.

Then, the phone rang. Beta fell of his chair. The whole class fell silent as he clambered back up to the table. The room watched in awe as he lifted the phone to his ear and said in rather more shaky terms than usual... "Hello?"

"STOP IT YOU TWAT!"

I hung up.

I'd ask you how it was, but I think I'll just get my coat.
(Lofn and Idun, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:45, Reply)

CURSED
I once got "ouija" on the triple word score in Scrabble, for a tasty 36 points, yet ultimately failed to win the game. Cursed, cursed, I tells ye.
(oranguturn, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:36, Reply)

The ghost of a cat was haunting my aquarium.
The goldfish were OK.

But my sole was in peril.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:29, Reply)

bargain basement
Hae me doots about ghosts but here's a strange tale.

My mum and dad were looking for a house in the early 70s and this massive one came up in the east of Edinburgh. Hooooooooge villa, massive garden, numerous bedrooms, gorgeous and really cheap. They looked round it and my dad really wanted to buy it. Then they went into the basement and my mum freaked. (It was perfectly nice, bits of the skirting board missing but otherwise in good nick.) She hurried out. Inside the front door, was a kind of phone booth thing. For some reason she was terrified of it.

Curious, she did some asking around.

And this is what she learned: a few months previously the man who owned the house had snapped under financial strain. He went on the rampage with a hammer and killed his two children and mother-in-law, and nearly did in his wife. The basement was where one of the murders happened. The skirting board had been removed because of the bashes and blood on it. The phone booth? It was the fact that the phone was continually off the hook that alerted a friend that something was wrong. One of the victims had hidden in there while he bashed his way in, a la "here's Johnnie". I believe the poor bastard's still in Carstairs.

They didn't buy the house.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:28, Reply)

Finally one I have a story for
I'm sort of a believer, but I require a bit more proof than Derek Acorah in a dusty room shouting at the walls. A Shakespearean college trip led us to Halls Croft Manor in Stratford Upon Avon, a place earlier that year visited by said Mr. Derek Accordian and his Mostly Haunted team (a wooden spoon quite famously threw itself accross the room at him, presumably fed up of his constant bullshitting).

Anyway, we went upstairs into the reportedly "haunted" room. Cue almost all of the girls in the class looking frantically around the room claiming the curtains were moving due to some supernatural force. Oh well, me and one of my mates decided let's just take the pictures and video we were supposed to then find a nice cozy pub to kick back in.

What was sort of spooky though is that the batteries in my digital camera and his video camera - all freshly charged - decided to pack up at precisely the same moment. Seems we were guests to some camera shy spirits. Cue all the girls in the room taking it as a sign that we were obviously intruding and cheesing it out of the manor throwing dozens of old ladies asunder on the stairs on their way down.

And we never did find a decent pub...
( shovelboy This is bad - Two minutes to Belgium, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:28, Reply)

Cursed Foxes mint
There was a kid in our school who was a bit of a cock. Lets call him Javi Rumnoodoo.

Actually he wasn't that bad probably us just being cunts. But we decided one day to curse a fox's mint and give it to him. The cursing consisted of sitting round the mint and chanting rubbish. He ate it, and we all chuckled. The next day he didn't come in to school, or the rest of the week I seem to remember. When he did come back it turned out the day after he ate the mint his dad and his brother both died in a car crash.

Despite knowing full well our rubbish mint had nothing to do with it, and not believe in all that rumnoodoo anyway I still feel a little bad for doing it :(
(Mr Bojangles Of London Town, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 16:25, Reply)