All Quotes tagged Creepy Stories(60)

Not so much scary but kind of crazy, and something I cannot explain or understand:

In high school I had a friend, we'll call him, John for these purposes. Me and John played football together and we would always get extra lifting sessions in at the high school gym. We remained friends after high school and even worked together for a bit. He ended up getting into selling pills and our relationship deteriorated to the point we were no longer speaking.

Fast forward a few years later and I have this dream. In my dream, I am back at my high school gym lifting weights with John. We were just chatting about random stuff, having a good time and then he suddenly says that he has to go. I tell him I don't want him to leave because I want to keep hanging out and I missed him. He just says he's really sorry but has to leave, I say "OK, see ya later" and he replies with a nod and a "See ya".

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, I see it is my mom and answer it. She tells me that John had died last night and asking if I am OK and other mom stuff. She had heard from Johns mom who called in saying that Johns siblings would not be at school the rest of the week because of his death. My Mom was a secretary at the school they went to.

I can't help but think that something paranormal had happened to allow me to make peace with and say goodbye to my friend and have some bit of closure. He was 25 when he died of a overdose and was the first person really close to me who had died.

I'm currently a freshman in college. One of my close friends in my pledge class is on the soccer team and heard this story with too much evidence and corroboration (pictures of the report on the Boston pd blotter, the text conversation, etc.) for it to have been completely fabricated.

So, my friend is close with this guy on the soccer team who recently went on a Tinder date with a junior at a college near us. She's from around Boston and commutes to her school. He matches with her on Tinder, takes her to dinner, they're having a good time and get to talking about their lives and such.

On the date, she tells him about another date she had recently been on that left her with a bad feeling. She had matched with a normal looking guy on Tinder from the area (not a college student) and agreed to meet up after talking for a while. They went to a restaurant to get dinner, and they had planned to go to a pretty popular bar near there for drinks after. She got a bad feeling by the end of the dinner and that didn't end up happening.

 Apparently it wasn't anything too bad, she could just tell he was a bit strange and not her type (described him as 'quirky' before all of this went down). So, she gives him an excuse and goes home; normal, their texts after it were amicable and she thinks it was just a bad date.

Couple days later, she meets up with the soccer dude from the beginning of the story and they really hit it off.

Her parents leave a few days after that for a trip, which she had told soccer guy about. The date went really well and he planned on going over at some point to chill with her. The first night they're gone, she wakes up to a noise in the kitchen; her room is on the second floor, the kitchen on the ground floor, and there's a basement under that. Normal house in Back Bay. So, she thinks she heard something and it freaks her out badly enough that she calls her parents.

They say, you know, 'everythings fine, you're probably just hearing things because its an old brownstone, don't worry.' Realistically I think that would have been anyone's, myself included, reaction.

Second day, she's upstairs and hears a noise from the TV room behind the kitchen. They don't have any pets and these were the types of noises that would make you get up from what you were doing to make sure something hadn't fallen or whatever. She described to my mutual friend as feeling like if she had gone downstairs at that moment that something really, really bad would have happened. Gut stuff. Anyway, she calls her parents again and they say the same thing. She gets up the nerve to go downstairs and everything's normal. Nothing moved, nothing knocked over, alarm records didn't show any doors opening. She's like 'yea alright I'm probably freaked out over nothing.'

Third day, everything's fine. No noises, no cause for concern. My mutual friend was going to go over but had a Unified midterm and couldn't make it (notoriously hard class at MIT). Anyway, that evening she's watching tv in her room and hears a noise somewhere downstairs. This time, it wasn't something she could ignore. All of her adrenaline was firing and she was actually freaking the fuck out. This time, she calls the cops without asking her parents. They say basically the same thing as her parents lol. "Yea, all of our cars are out right now, since you just heard something we'll try to have someone over to check outside your house in around 2 hours."

Literally 4 minutes later a fucking squad of cop cars rolls up. But not just cop cars, like full on riot-squad van, knocking-down-doors shit. They rush the house, and she's watching all of this from somewhere upstairs. Cops throw the front door open, and immediately fan out, sprinting through every room in the house and yelling 'clear' and some other stuff she didn't remember. One of them tries the basement door. Locked from the inside. They break down the flimsy door and rush the basement.

They found her first Tinder date in the basement. He had completely covered one part of the room in some kind of heavy plastic tarp. He had a bag of heavy duty butchering knives with him. The cops immediately force a surrender and take him.

In the post-mortem, she was told that the cops, when she called them, heard a second phone pick up, and when she hung up, they heard breathing and a click before he could hang up the basement phone.

The mutual friend heard about all of this after the fact, and the thing that really gets me is the part about the cops hearing him on the phone. When my friend told me and some of the guys in my fraternity that part it felt like all of the oxygen left the room.

My aunt and uncle moved into a 19th century home in a small town in Maine a few years back. Think something from Steven King. Their neighbors warned them about previous paranormal incidents. Since they moved in, many more incidents have taken place. These incidents include but are not limited too:

An in-your-face chocolate smell in the kitchen when no one had been cooking.

Random items appearing in places they shouldn't be. My aunt was a school administrator, now retired, and she has a filing cabinet full of old documents in the basement. One night while I was visiting, a binder from that filing cabinet was underneath my bed when i woke up. The filing cabinet was in the very back of their storage space and would have required someone to scramble over camping equipment, old furniture, etc. to get to it. Weird.

Levitating objects. Super skeptical of this one.

My aunt was home alone running on a treadmill in her basement. Unexplained banging noises came from the ground floor. She yells, 'For heaven's sake shut the fuck up already,' and the banging subsides.

The most memorable incident for me was when my uncle noticed that his medication went missing. My aunt yelled to the 'ghost' that his medication is important and is the one thing that is not to be played with. They later found his pill bottles standing upright underneath the bed. Standing upright. The couldn't have rolled underneath. Never happened again.

The ghost has not really done anything harmful and from what I have heard can even be described as playful. We have affectionately dubbed the ghost 'Gracie the Ghost'.

Growing up, my bedroom was the only one that faced the front of the house/street. When I was about 8 or 9, I woke up to my dad calmly but firmly telling me to get up, go in the bathroom, and shut the door. I was annoyed because I was half asleep, but I listened. Apparently I was more tired than I realized, because I feel asleep on the bathroom floor. The next morning I asked my mom what happened. She seemed oblivious and confused. I looked at my dad like she was crazy, and I asked him why he had woken me up. He denied doing it. I was becoming frustrated to the point of tears, but I ultimately let it go.

Fast forward to college. I was home one break, and I decided to ask again. I had thought of that night off and on for years, and it still bothered me. This time, my dad goes, "Ha! I was wondering if you even remembered that." Turns out that a lot of houses on our block were being vandalized and robbed all those years ago. Someone had broken into the garage and was inside the house. My room was partially over the garage. My dad heard it happen and quietly got me to safety. Police were called, the guy ran. He was never caught, however, and my parents didn't want a terrified kid on their hands, so for years they pretended like nothing had ever happened. It wasn't supernatural, but it was unsettling for sure.

When I was 16 in the mid 90s, aka the "I know everything, I'm invincible and you can't stop me" age, I got in a fight with an acquaintance while a whole bunch of us were hanging out at his house. Stupid fight, can't remember what about, but I decided fuck it, I was going home. I lived about 5 miles away, but I didn't have a car, and since it was 2am, there were no buses. I was going to walk home.

In the middle of the night, though a not-as-safe-as-it-seem neighborhood, as a tiny 16 year old girl.

So I did. I think, in hindsight, my friends either didn't believe I was going to do it, or were too startled by the sudden argument to realize what I was doing. I left the house and started hoofing it. About a mile out, the suburban housing neighborhood melted into a main street, with highway access. I started to notice a greyish minivan following me. It would follow me, pass me, turn a corner, and about 3 blocks later, it would do the same thing. I mean, really really obvious what it was doing. I crossed over to the other side of the street so I was walking the opposite of traffic flow, and thus no car could come up behind me. It kept doing it, on the other side of the street. About a mile later, there was a 24-hour Fred Meyer (west coast USA chain grocery/all-purpose store), lights bright, but parking lot emptyish. I immediately crossed the parking lot and went to head inside.

Just before I got to the doors, the minivan that had been following me, pulled up into one of the parking spots. A guy called out from the driver side and said:

"I don't want you to walk over here, just stay there and listen. I just wanted to let you know what I was doing. I saw you walking a while back, but I also saw a dark car that was following you.

A couple of times you went to turn around, or stopped, so it started following you down a parallel side street. When I saw it, I started to follow you both, just to make sure you were safe. Go inside the store, and call someone to come pick you up, please. I haven't seen the car since you headed across the lot."

He waited until I was inside the store, and then pulled away. I didn't have anyone to call, so I just let the night cashier know what was going on, and hung out with her for about an hour and a half. Then I finished the walk home. I've never forgotten the incident, or that man, whoever he was. During the walk, I never saw the dark car he mentioned, but I've always been convinced he saved my life that night.

One night, about ten months ago, there was a pretty heavy snow storm in my area. All of the roads were closed and a curfew was issued for everybody except emergency medical personnel.

I had been shoveling snow for most of the day and was dead tired come nightfall. Didn't have the energy to do much of anything besides eat dinner and lay down. I fire up some OG Star Trek and begin to doze off.

A couple of hours later, around 1AM, I hear the sound of a door rattling and a slight whisper saying my name, "vladimir_pwnin". I sit up a bit and realize it's coming from my parents' room, becoming fainter with the passing time. After 10 minutes or so, I gather up the courage to see what the hell is going on.

Shitty folding knife in hand, I peak out into the hallway and don't see anything. The noise is still coming from the room next door, the rattling becoming more rushed as I approach. Cautiously, I open the door and sneak inside. It's pitch black and I can't see anything.

My eyes are taking entirely too long to adjust to the darkness. I'm shuffling forward, and all of the sudden, something grabs and pulls on my leg. At this point I was so freaked out I jumped back. As the whispers continued, I recognized my dad's voice. He was asking me for help.

He had a stroke while walking to use the bathroom around 1AM that night. After he fell, he was able to use his left foot to rattle the door to his bathroom. My mom fell asleep on the couch in the living room and wasn't around to help or hear. I was able to grab the house phone and call 911, and despite the weather, the police and an ambulance arrived within 10 minutes.

That was the scariest night of my life. The doctors told us there wasn't much hope for my dad before going into surgery, since he had a hemorrhagic stroke and there was a massive amount of bleeding.

Fast forward 10 months and my old man is cognitively the same, just paralyzed on his right side. He had every infection under the sun while in the hospital, but he staved them off and is still with us today. He was my best friend before the incident, and my hero after.

I used to work as a 911 operator in a relatively large metro area. One night at about 3 am or so I answered a call from an elderly lady who said she didn't feel good. I tried to get more info about what was wrong — chest pain, trouble breathing, headache, is she diabetic, etc.

She gave me her address and phone number and said no one else was home but the front door was unlocked so they could come in. I toned the call out as 'general illness' and kept trying to get more details. No matter what else I asked about what was wrong, all she would say is 'I just don't feel good, can you send someone to help me?'

After a few minutes she said 'I'm gonna put the phone down for a minute, I need to go to the bathroom.' I tried to get her to stay on the line with me, told her she can do whatever she needs to get ready but I'd like to be able to stay in contact in case there's a problem.

She said, 'I'm gonna put the phone down, I'll just be a minute.' And that was it. I stayed on the line and asked for her every so often but got no reply.

A couple minutes passed, then the fire department called on scene so I just disconnected and didn't think much about it. Told them the caller advised front door is unlocked and she was in the bathroom. A couple more minutes and the one of the firefighters called over the air with a weird tone and said:

'Dispatch...uh how exactly was this caller received?' I told them the call was first party from the patient's home phone approx 8 minutes ago. He didn't respond over the air, but called the desk from his cell phone (which usually only happens when something is going on that they don't want broadcasted since anyone can listen in on the radios).

On the phone he said 'Are you sure this wasn't a third party call from a family member or something?' I said 'negative, caller advised "I don't feel good" and said no one else was home, so to the best of my knowledge, the caller is the patient...have you made contact?'

He said 'Yeah, she was in the bathroom like you said, but she's probably been dead for about 12 hours. Cold to the touch, fully livid, full rigor, we're gonna need a deputy out here.'

Afterwards we pulled the tapes of the radio and phone calls and checked the time stamps, address, phone number, and went over everything a few times to see if I missed something. I called them back in the morning after the shift to see if they had anymore info, but they were just as weirded out as we were. The phone was still in the living room and the patient was dead in the bathroom.

This is the story of how a creepy encounter with a scary man at a harbour café saved me from something even more terrifying. It was in the autumn of 1994 and I was 19 years old. At the time my dad had been working for almost six months abroad, and I was planning a surprise visit. My dad and I have always been close, I am an only child and my mother died of cancer when I was still a baby. So it was just my dad and I really, a tiny little family but he made up for it by being the most awesome parent ever. Now that I wasn’t a little kid anymore, I appreciated that more and more. I had had booked the ticket and was ready to go, it was gonna be great fun to surprise him with a visit. I had to take the ferry though, and I had just gotten my driving license and felt really unhappy about having to drive my little car onboard the ferry, and decided to not bring a car at all, and just rent one once I got there. Having time to spend I decided to have coffee at a near by café since I was early and they hadn’t started letting people onto the ferry just yet. At the café there were lots of truck drivers and I soon realized I was the only woman there.

One man, a 40-ish bloke with ice blue eyes and tattoos all over was eyeing me from across the room. Something about him made my skin crawl.

I got up to leave, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable, and to my utter horror he followed. What do I do now? I asked myself. This was before everyone owned a cell phone, I might add. I decided to try and look busy and maybe he would leave me alone. So I pulled out my ticket and tried to look like I was reading it carefully, when he suddenly snatched it from my hand and said: ‘I’m on the same boat. I’ll have hours of your company then, how lovely’ in a voice that was an absurd combination of jovial flattery and hidden hostility.

I felt it very strongly that if I got on that boat, with this man who now knew my booking details, I’d be in grave danger. I can’t explain why the feeling was so overwhelming, but it was, and I decided there and then to not get on the boat. The ticket had been cheap anyway, I could get on the next one instead. I hid in the ladies room until I knew the ferry had left and then I went to rebook my ticket. The story could have ended here, a creepy encounter with a stalkerish man, but it doesn’t.

I was right in the assumption that getting on that ferry would have been unbelievably dangerous. Have you figured it out yet? The date was September 28, 1994, the name of the ship was M/S Estonia, and that cold night she sank in the Baltic sea, taking 852 people with her, resulting in the worst ferry catastrophe to strike Sweden to this day.

I still recall that day with horror, and wonder what would have happened if this creepy man had not taken an interest in me? If I had not listened to my instinct and gotten on board instead of waiting for the next boat... Would I have been among the survivors? Or would my dad have seen my name on the list of lives lost in the Baltic sea?

When I was around 16 my rapidly growing family finally moved from the house I had spent my entire life in. As you would expect, we spent a lot of time fondly remembering things we used to do in the house as we were packing everything up. At some point I decided to go into the downstairs closet with a flashlight and read, something I used to do when I was younger to get some peace and quiet.

Now, this is one of those deep closets that goes under the stairs; it went back around 8 feet and then had a left turn into a very low maybe 3 foot high space. This space was largely occupied by a mountain of old blankets and stuffed animals. Of course, this is the most fluffy spot to sit and read.

About an hour in I shift a little to get comfortable and I hear a low, slow, warped, hoarse voice say "you always make me happy". I flipped my shit, hit my head on the low ceiling, and practically broke the door down getting out. After hyperventilating and explaining to my family why there was no color left on my face I went back to see what it was. It was my stuffed Little Bear from when I was 3 or 4 years old that I happened to lean on juuuuust right to press his belly. When I pressed his stomach again though, nothing. This poor bear I hadn't played with since I was a toddler used the last of it's power, used it's dying breath to tell me I made it happy.

You make me happy too little bear.

When you're not making me piss myself.

A few months ago, I was diving home from my friends house early in the morning (3 or 4 am). I didn’t exactly know how to get home from her place, but I figured if I kept going straight on the same road, I’d hit the entrance eventually.

I had been on the road for twenty minutes when I saw a hooded man walking on the sidewalk. The neighborhood was really nice so I figured it’d be safe for me to ask the person how to get to the main way. I stopped my motorcycle and asked him how to get out.

As the hooded figure walked into the light of the street light, I noticed he wasn’t hooded at all. The creature was probably 6’ 7’’ tall, and had translucent skin. He snapped his head over in my direction, and moved toward my motor cycle at an inhuman speed. Before I knew it, he was nose to nose with me, his skin showing every vein in his face, completely translucent and almost grey-coloured. His smile stretching ear to ear, like someone had sliced his face open, more gum than teeth, his eyes whiter than bowls of milk.

Through his smile the words ‘no maaam I don’t have any cigarretteeesssssssss’ seeped out, The smell from his mouth putrid. He stared at me with an evil smile, waiting. I turned on my cycle and sped away, I glanced to my rear view mirror, he stood in the middle of the road and watched me over his shoulder the whole way out. I found the road less than 30 seconds later.

This was years ago, when I was a much younger lass in my twenties. I lived right by a forest that had a bunch of hiking trails through it, and I loved to take my dog for a walk there at night to look at the stars, listen to the river, get wicked baked, etc. You could expect other people there, it was a park after all, but usually it was pretty empty.

So for reference, I was about 100lbs soaking wet and my dog was a 10lb Mini Pin, so not exactly a threat to anyone. I also didn’t have my cell on me because I was dumb. It was about 11pm on a warm Tuesday night and we were just lazing in one of the little alcoves by the riverbank I like to rest at and enjoy the fireflies and whatnot. Then all of a sudden I hear this horrible scream. My dog starts barking like crazy and I freak out, but then I think ‘that was probably a rabbit’ because they scream like creepily human-like. My dog calms down and I go back to stargazing and then the scream happens again but louder. And then twice more.

My dog is growling and trying to hide behind me and then I hear this noise like a TRex is running through the forest - big loud stomps and branches breaking and shit. So now I think a girl is being chased and I feel awful because I don’t have my cell on me. It gets closer and my dog and I just hunker down hoping we can’t be seen from the path and I can see one of the trees above us shake. It felt like that scene from LOTR with the hobbits under the tree roots. The noise and stomping go right past me but I don’t see anything on the path. I stay there for a while, don’t hear anything else and eventually go home. There’s a lot of broken branches on the path and it smelled like wood smoke, but no other clues.

If my dog hadn’t been there being so visibly freaked out, I would assume it was a dream. She would never go down that specific path again either.

My family moved around a lot when I was young, so my siblings and I lived in quite a few houses. One particular house was just strange, that’s the only way to describe it. From strange, siren-like noises that our parents never seemed to hear, to all the other unexplained things; I’m not really superstitious, but there was something going on in this house.

I shared a room with my younger sister who was known to sleepwalk from time to time, so I didn’t think much of it when I felt someone sit at the end of my bed: pulling the sheets tight over my feet and making the mattress dip down. Slightly annoyed, I called out to her to get her to move. She sat up from her own bed and the thing at the end of my bed pretty much jumped up.

A few years later, I was out running errands when I got a call from my brother, asking me to come home because something strange had just happened. The house had a bathroom that was set up so you could see the door in the mirror above the sink. My brother was washing his hands when he noticed the door start to creak open slightly. Deciding to have some fun with it, he quickly spun around and said ‘hi!’ Obviosuly not expecting anything to happen. Instead, the door flew open as if it had been pushed, bounced off the edge of the tub, and slammed closed.

At some point I found an odd flat stone while mowing the lawn. It turned out to be a knocked-over gravestone with the name ‘Angie’ on it, she apparently died in the house when she was two. So now we at least have a name for the ghost.

The house I grew up in was haunted to high Hell. There were a couple of deaths on the property that we knew of before the house was redone (it was a Habitat for Humanity rebuild). There was always creepy stuff going on and bad feelings emanating from certain rooms, but the most terrifying thing that happened to me was when I was home alone.

The living room, where I was watching TV late one evening, was separated from the kitchen by a wall with one of those breakfast bar-type ‘windows’ that let you see into either area from the other side. Out of nowhere, I hear the silverware drawer sliding open and not-quite-shut repeatedly, making the silverware clatter. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder, and simply said, ‘Stop it!’.

And it did.

Up until I heard a gunshot-like crack rip through the kitchen. That’s when I looked over my shoulder and saw a black shadow person’s silhouette, staring at me with bright white eyes. I bolted up the stairs to my bedroom and locked the door, then immediately began praying and wishing I’d had incense or sage or something to keep…whatever that thing had been…out of my room and away from me (I was a big believer in the supernatural as a teen).

A few hours later, I was called down by my mom, and she asked why there was a plank of wood on the floor. I looked, and sure enough, there was a sheet of wood on the kitchen floor.

The same bit of wood that had been in the middle of the counter, leftover from her and her ex building a bird cage. That I didn’t touch.

Many bricks were shat.

I sleep in a one bedroom apartment and every night I close my door because I don’t have windows in my room and love the pitch dark. So I drift off and snooze for how ever long and then start to stir. I casually wake up as my eyes adjust to the darkness. I check my phone and lay it back down to sleep more.

As I’m laying there, I open my eyes and see a face, it’s in the doorway of my, now cracked open, bedroom door. It’s at the height of a child. It took me a minute to really gather what i was looking at, I could only make out the roundness of the face little black beady eyes, lips very shadowdy but still visible. It just kept sort of swaying ever so slightly like it was trying to spy on me. And I just looked at it and, being really exhausted, I just fell asleep. I remember thinking, ‘fuck it, I don’t care what that is, I’m fucking tired,’ and that was it.

I then woke up, it was morning. I gradually woke up stretched big, looked at my phone, then remembered the creepy thing from just a few hours ago, I thought ‘interesting, must have been sleep paralysis, that’s never happened before, I feel I handled that well.’ I then sat up and looked straight at my door, which was now slightly opened 7 inches. I never got up during the night, I remember that.

I’ve told people this story and they just say either ‘yea right’ or ‘that’s creepy’ it was a weird situation. I can easily attribute the face to maybe still being sort of asleep but the door slightly being ajar, that’s something I can’t put my finger on.

It was a year ago, my druggie friend and I [neither were high at the time of this story, according to OP], since seventh grade, always travel up to the Appalachians in north Georgia every year. We always go to the same camping site, and it’s always been peaceful and serene. Well..

We were getting there much later than usual. It was the first year our parents were letting us go alone, and we planned poorly for the trip time, leaving at around 5 PM instead of the usual crack-of-dawn deal. Well, we finally got there around 10, and it was dark. Once we got off the interstate, there were very few street lights, and once we got onto the country road towards the campsite, even fewer.

We made the turn into the long winding road up to the campsite, and in the day it would be very beautiful, but at night it was just eerie. No moonlight, only the headlights of our car guiding us. I was staring out of the abyss of darkness in the passenger seat, and I saw it. A white mask, with gaping holes for the eyes and the mouth. It had a black, tattered cloak around it. In retrospect, it was almost like a really fucking creepy version of the ‘holes cut out of the pillow casing ghost’ costume. It flew over, and I felt a terrible chill. It came at us from the darkness, on the left side of the car. It flew diagonally, crossing a few feet over the windshield and the roof. I had the worst chill/goosebump shudder I ever had in my life.

We sat in silence, and when we got to the campsite, our favorite spot, we both decided on sleeping in the car instead of setting up the tent. The whole week there we didn’t have anything else like that happen to us, and we didn’t dare speak about it. Hell, we didn’t even talk about it until we had gotten off the road and were back at his house.

It still gives me the chills like bad.

I remember I was at my great-grandparents place with my brother and sisters, we were playing outside with some water toy (thing that you hooked up to a hose and it sprayed water out of its tentacles) jumping over it and whatnot, our great-grandma is watching over us.

In the middle of playing I hear one of my sisters say ‘What’s that?’ and saw her looking straight up, so we all look up and see this black metallic thing just way up in the sky.

It was like a square with one of the corners missing, it had some ridged circles of different sizes on its under side with biggest in the center that was glowing red.(only the ridge was glowing) It had half of its outer side in flames (like how a movie would show an asteroid entering the atmosphere) and made no noise.

After a couple seconds of looking at it my great-grandma responds ‘It’s God punishing us’, my brother says to that ‘No it’s a UFO’.

I don’t know why but we quickly forget about it and go back to playing. I brought it up once with my great-grandma as an adult and she didn’t want to talk about (she got scared) but did acknowledge remembering it. My youngest sister said she remembered but the older one didn’t, I asked my brother if he remembered seeing that thing at wela’s (abuela’s) place and he laughed and said ‘The UFO? Yeah I remember it.’

Looking back at it, it wasn’t a scary experience but more ‘wtf was that about’. It was summer of '99 in south Texas for what it’s worth.