I’ve always felt eerie things in my house. My female dog sometimes barks at certain places in the house, usually in the kitchen and at the stairs, but no one’s ever there. I saw someone in the kitchen once but I thought I imagined it because when I turned around to check, there was nobody. Sometimes I go downstairs (we live in a two-storey house) and my dog is sitting in front of the stairs in the living room looking at them, and she seems relieved when she sees me. When I try to get her back into the kitchen where she should be (we don’t allow her to be in the living room in case she breaks something), she refuses to go. She usually listens to me so it freaks me out when she acts like this. Other times she sits in a corner far from the kitchen and if I call her she doesn’t move- she just looks at me, and if I go near her she seems happy. That’s also weird because she always comes to me when I call her so I can tell there’s something wrong. I once took a photo of the stairs and I could clearly see a figure sitting on them. My mom has fallen from those stairs a million times, my dog refuses to climb them up, and my friend feels like someone will try to push her off every time she climbs them up.

Another day, during the summer, I was having a weird dream. In this dream, I woke up lying on the right-hand side of my bed, my body facing the wall but my eyes looking at the door in front of the bed (I never lie with my body facing the wall and I always close my door and nor my mom or brother open it cause they know I get mad). It was dark, and there were noises. I wanted them to stop but they did not. Suddenly a woman in a white dress passed right in front of my door. I was terrified, wishing she wouldn’t come inside the room. Then I woke up.

By the time I’d opened my eyes I could tell it was morning but nonetheless, too early for anyone to be awake. My body was facing the wall and my eyes staring at the door which was wide open… Wait, what? Yes, my door was open. My body was at the same position as in my dream, and I was staring outside the door just like in my dream. Only difference, it was morning.

Ok, so last winter I woke up during the night at 3 o’clock (I always check the time because I tend to wake up every night!) and I just couldn’t go back to sleep. I had this strange feeling and I was cold. It was raining outside so the sound was calming me down. After an hour or maybe more I finally started falling asleep. As soon as my eyes fell shut I suddenly realized I couldn’t breathe! I felt paralyzed. When I opened my eyes I saw a creature sitting over the blankets on my chest! It was trying to kill me! I’ve never seen anything like this and during my struggle to push it away I could tell it was looking at me, but I wasn’t able to see any facial features. It was brown or gray, not big at size, with a large head and uncanny skin. I don’t know how I did it but I somehow fought my paralysis and pushed the blankets and the creature away! I immediately switched on the table light besides me and sat on my bed staring at my room. There was nothing! I sat like that for half an hour not knowing what to do and trying to understand what I had just been through. The following day I researched the whole thing and found out that there is a male demon called ‘incubus’ which crawls in women’s beds, lies on their sleeping bodies and tries to strangle them or have sexual intercourse with them! I was so shocked and I never actually knew about creatures like that before so I could not have been affected by something I’d read or seen!

Another experience I had was once again during nighttime, around 3 o’clock. It seemed I was having a bad nightmare because I woke up lying in a very weird position and was quite shocked. I was facing the ceiling, my hands spread wide open. I kept staring at the ceiling for a while, trying to calm myself from the nightmare which I couldn’t even remember, and then I looked toward where my closet is. And I froze. I saw a figure which I thought was a man’s, staring at me. He/it was tall and handsome with his/its head slightly inclined, reminding me of a psychopath. I couldn’t see any of his/its facial features but I was sure he/it was staring at me. I found myself just staring back. After a while, feeling lost in time, he just started fading away… and disappeared. I then sat on my bed and once again stared all over the room. I was 100% awake… This was not a dream. I looked at the clock again and it was around 4 o’clock. Then I went back to sleep, just like that. Next morning I told my friend (who has experienced paranormal phenomenon, too), and she told me in shock that at approximately 4 o’clock that night she woke up and saw a man’s figure sitting in her chair!

On Christmas Day, my family and I would go to my uncle’s house for dinner. My mom would wake me up in the morning so that I’d get ready for the trip, so this year I knew that my mom would come and wake me up when it was time. So when I woke up earlier than usual, I thought I should sleep some more until it was time for me to get up. I was half asleep when I felt a hand tickling me and caressing my face and a voice telling me to “get up”. I thought it was my mom because that was how she usually woke me up. I turned around half asleep murmuring “yeah, okay mom”, but when I opened my eyes there was nobody in the room. I could swear it felt so real. I got up and saw that my mom was still sleeping in her room.

Source:ghostsandstories.com

In my past I’ve had a few demon related events, but nothing this intense and direct. Last night I fell asleep a little bit after midnight.

Dream 1

It started out normal and I knew I was dreaming. I was with some guy and he started acting weird and morphing shapes. It started to get weird and scary so I tried to wake myself up. Then I saw myself laying in bed, I thought I was awake and I heard my dog begging to get up on my bed. I reached my arm down to get her but she wouldn’t come to me. Then I felt something on top of me, violently humping me. I tried to push it off but I could barely move. Then more evil spirits (maybe demons?) came and were trying to get inside me. I couldn’t move so I began screaming bloody murder for my mom and brother. But then I realized no sound was coming out even though I could feel my throat burning. I was trying to get out of bed but the demons were pulling me back. I made it to the doorway and uttered a scream. My brother came down the stairs and was trying to shake it out of me. I thought I woke up, but after a minute everything began twisting back and I saw myself laying in bed again with the demons trying to get inside me. The same thing happened and I made it to the doorway and my brother came again and tried shaking it out of me. While he did I saw glimpses of my real room cause I was starting to wake up but the demons were pulling me back in so I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Finally my eyes opened wide. I was awake. I looked at the time and it was only 12:45. Freaked out, I sat up and read the bible until 3 am when I coaxed myself back into sleeping cause I had to go to school the next day.

Dream 2

Just after 3 am I fell asleep. Once I again I knew I was sleeping and began to dream. The first part of the dream I kept on re-living the same scene over and over but in different places so I saw it in different perspectives. I’ll describe the scene. I was in an auditorium type building. It had a balcony and rows of seats beneath it. I don’t really remember the stage or if there was one. There were “good” and “bad” people there. The “good” people were hiding in the balcony and looking down on the bad people silently making plans to escape. I only remember two “bad” people. An adult and a little girl. I don’t remember if the adult was a woman or a man.

The first time in the scene I was on the balcony sitting behind my brother, I tried to ask what was going on but he just looked at me with a straight face and put his finger over his mouth to tell me to be quiet. Then I just looked down at the adult holding the child. After a minute or so the little girl pointed behind her to the back of the building. Then the scene restarted and I was hanging from the balcony. I was scared someone would see me but I don’t think they did. Same thing happened. Then it restarted again and I was in the back row of the auditorium. I remember seeing more bad people at this point, but don’t really know what’s going on. The scene keeps restarting and each time I’m a row closer to the little girl and the adult. The last time it restarted I was directly behind them terrified they were going to see me, but it was dark. Then when the little girl pointed behind her she was pointing right at me. The adult looked right at me, but didn’t see me. Now that I think about it I’m not sure if the adult was human, it had a dark evil looking face. The main reason I find this dream significant is because with every time the scene restarted I felt overwhelmed with feelings of understanding, I understood why the bad people were bad and why the good people were good.

Then all of the sudden I’m at my “house” (but it doesn’t look like my house at all). Then I look out my window and notice something in the neighbors window but think nothing of it. Then all of the sudden I see the demons rushing out of the neighbors windows and I try to wake myself up again because I’m scared. Once again, I see myself laying in bed, paralyzed. I can feel one on top of me, this time I don’t think its trying to have sex with me. I’m trying to sit up and push it off me but I cant at all. More come and are trying to get inside me. I still cant scream but I woke up faster this time than before. I woke up about 3:45. I thought it was weird how the dream was about the same length as the other one.

Now the freakiest part. I’m fully awake laying in my bed scared to go back to sleep. Then I started hearing strange crackling/scratching noises coming from my ceiling. I laid there listening to it carefully trying to determine if it was my imagination, rain, or something else. It definitely wasn’t my imagination, I listened for at least two straight minutes of weird noises.I could hear light rain, but there was a distinct difference between the crackling/scratching noises and rain drops and it couldn’t be rain anyway because my room is downstairs so the ceiling is the floor of the living room. Then I heard footsteps coming from the living room above me. I got so freaked out I said out loud, “I rebuke you in the name of Jesus Christ,” and it stopped instantly. Not even kidding, I couldn’t hear a thing besides light rain tinkling on my house. I started crying because I was so freaked out and scared. Then I prayed until I fell asleep around 5:00 which is usually the time I wake up. I had strange dreams but I wont go into detail cause they weren’t significant and there weren’t any demons this time. I woke up at 10:00 and went to school late.

My main question is this sleep paralysis or a demon encounter? or something different? I don’t know. if anyone can help or offer any advice it would be very much appreciated. Also, a few months ago I had a dream a lot like this, but instead of demons I was falling out of reality or life, into the space between heaven/hell and the earth. I could see everyone around me but couldn’t move or make a sound. It was one of the worst feelings I had ever felt. and like this dream it reoccurred several times in one night, but it didn’t keep me up all night.

Source:ghostsandstories.com

I grew up in rural Shropshire, a county in England in Great Britain for those not in the know and it was during this childhood that my only significant experience of the unexplained occurred. Incidentally, by rural I mean that our nearest neighbour was approximately half a mile away, and the nearest significant centre of civilization was some sixteen miles. In England we don’t have any real wildernesses: the country is so old and so populated nowhere is very far from some sort of urbanization.

The house I lived in was a single storey, timber frame building which had previously been a “turn-of-the-last-century” Army hut and was probably a little more than a hundred years old. It was cited without foundations, approximately 70-feet long, with eight good sized rooms connected by a long hallway. In subsequent years we had an extension built on the back of the house, but none of the unexplained occurrences we experienced took place there. The house stood in approximately two-acres of land with a magnificent view over a valley in the direction of a series of hills called the Stiperstones (on which is a pile of rocks called the Devil’s Chair). We kept three dogs, two cats, goats, Shetland ponies, chickens and a goose (before the fox got him). The house was reached by way of a gravel drive adjacent to the front lawn; over which there were unobstructed views from the house.

We moved to the property one summer in the early 1980′s from the suburban mediocrity of Birmingham (Britain’s second largest city I believe), and the unexplained events started happening in the Autumn (Fall) after we moved. I’m recounting this now as a 31 years old and I don’t recall the precise sequence in which the occurrences took place: many were repeated time and again over the fifteen years we lived there, and so I hope you will forgive me for not relating a complete chronology.

I recall that the events began with the very strong smell of tobacco smoke. I think we all noticed at various times and at first put it down to smoke from the log-fuelled fires that kept the house warm. Incidentally, these were not open fire-places, but enclosed iron units. At some point we realised that the smell wasn’t wood-smoke but tobacco. It was always strongest in the middle rooms along the hallway (these were bedrooms, farthest from the two log-fires which were at either end of the house). The smell was always very strong, and seemingly without any obvious source. Neither of my parents smoked, and I was the eldest of two (and at that time would have been no more than 8 years old). Suffice it to say neither I nor my brother smoked then, and do not smoke now. Of course, when we became aware of this mystery, we spent some time searching the house and the grounds for obvious explanations: faulty wiring, an unannounced visitor and so on. We never saw anyone (certainly not anyone smoking acrid tobacco) and didn’t have problems with the electrics until much, much later. Our nearest neighbour (the guy half-a mile away) did smoke, but not “roll-your-own” or “pipe-type” tobacco, which was what this seemed to be. I suppose it’s possible that wood-smoke from the fires is an explanation, but we would experience the aroma even when the fires were not lit.

The house did not have a front door in the conventional sense. Entrance was by way of a double “porch” at the rear of the house, adjacent to the drive. The first porch was just a covered walkway without a door, but the second was accessed by way of a large, heavy timber door. We didn’t have a doorbell, but rather a bell-pull: this was a chain with a handle beside the door which, when pulled, would ring an old fashioned style bell inside the second porch. On a number of occasions the bell would sound but without any apparent human agency. I don’t think it’s possible that people were playing tricks: notwithstanding that it’s unlikely they’d have got off the property without us seeing them, they would have been “challenged” very quickly by our dogs. It wasn’t my brother and I playing tricks either, since the bell-ringing happened when the whole family was in the same room. It’s been mooted to me that it might have been the wind or heavy trucks passing causing the bell to ring. However, the bell was protected from the elements by two porches and we never experienced vibrations from what little heavy traffic we got.

The dogs were, as you might imagine, a good barometer of unexplained activity: I’m not sure whether dogs apparently watching the movement of something invisible across a room is a sign worth talking about (given the often inexplicable idiosyncrasies of dogs), but one of our hounds in particular seemed to dislike the presence. It didn’t start bothering this dog until we received an old clock from a great aunt. The clock was an antique American mantle clock which was bequeathed to us in the old lady’s will. It was, I’m sure, quite a lovely piece if you like that sort of thing.

My dad gave it pride of place on a sideboard in our dining room. However, not long after receiving it dad got up one morning to find the clock had stopped. Upon inspection, he discovered that the pendulum had been halted, and taken off and laid in the bottom of the clock. Now the pendulum was on a long hook, the hook itself being a substantial curve which reflexed back on itself: the pendulum could not have fallen off on its own.

Of course, my brother and I got the blame for that (I’m not sure either of us would have had the gumption at that age to sabotage the clock). However, the same thing occurred on six or seven other occasions and eventually, the springs powering the clock were broken (snapped). Clearly an act of vindictiveness far outside the desire of even the most hellion-like schoolboy (which we were not).

One morning dad decided to have a go at mending the clock (he was an aircraft engineer and took the view that if he could put jumbo-jets back together, then anything less than that would be a doddle). No sooner did he pick the clock up and carry it through into the kitchen then one of our dogs, the bitch, went berserk. Well, that’s probably hyperbole: however, she started to growl and snap at the clock, her fur stood up on end and she started to try and back away under my mum’s rocking chair (in contra-direction to the kitchen counter and the clock). Apparently, though I’m not sure I recall it, my dad said: “Leave the dogs alone, or I’ll have you exorcised”, whereupon apparently whatever was upsetting the dog ceased and she calmed down.

There were innumerable other occasions where the dogs started barking or growling for no apparent reason, but dogs are idiosyncratic and might have been barking at flatulent cows for all I know. As for the clock, dad replaced the spring (or springs, or whatever). It broke (or was broken) again after that, whereupon dad gave up.

Speaking of object d’art disliked by this presence, my mum and dad owned a Batik (Javanese cloth) print showing two stylised fighting birds. My mum had picked the thing up whilst working for the British Council in Indonesia. For a long time it was hung in the main hall (or the sitting room, I’m not quite sure which), but at some point my parents moved the thing to the dining room. Apparently, one morning my mum found the print propped up against the wall, but standing on the floor, its cord unbroken: directly under where it had previously been hung, the hook still in the wall. Again, we kids got blamed for taking the thing down, but I can assure you that moving object d’art around was probably the least interesting thing one could get up to in rural Shropshire. Mum returned the print to the wall, but a few days later found it propped up against the wall on the floor again. This happened several times, before one day the print finally fell (or was knocked) off the wall, the fall resulting in the frame and the glass cover smashing to pieces. The print was okay, but after that mum returned it to the hallway where it hung until mum and dad sold up.

Again it has been suggested by some that heavy trucks on the road could explain this: but I feel sure someone would have heard it falling off the wall, and that damage from repeated falls to the frame would have been substantial.

One Spring an aunt and uncle from Australia were staying with us, and were staying in one of the bedrooms in the middle of the house. One evening both of them were laying awake, having just retired to the room, when they heard the sound of three or four heavy footsteps pass along the floor at the bottom of their bed. The sound was loud and clear: when my aunt recounted it in the morning, and was told it was probably timbers shifting, she assured us she knew the difference between the sound of heavy, booted footsteps and the odd creak of an oak frame.

On an occasion not long afterward, my best friend was staying with us at the house and reported seeing something strange in the dining room as he returned from the kitchen with cups of tea for us all (yes, guests were made to work for their keep). He described it as seeing the torso (and only the torso) of some person wearing an old fashioned waistcoat (I think you call them a vest in the colonies). He only glimpsed it for a moment as he passed the dining room, but it was enough to unnerve him and insist that he camped on my bedroom floor in a sleeping bag, rather than on his own in the spare room.

Another year, one Christmas, my brother and I were left alone in the house whilst my mum and dad attended a work Christmas dinner. By this time we were both older (I was in my mid-teens) and we were trusted to be left alone: plus, we had three big dogs to guard us. We spent that evening in the sitting room watching WWF (wrestling, not nature) on our VCR. There came a time when one of the wrestlers was entering the arena to a particularly catchy tune. Both my brother and I heard loud, clear whistling in the room, keeping tune with the noise on the TV. We both looked at each other, presumably intending to castigate the other for whistling so loudly, however, when I realised that neither of us had been whistling I felt the hairs on the back of my neck and my head stand on end. The whistling lasted only for a few bars, mere seconds, but it was the most overtly “frightening” thing that happened to us. The dogs weren’t allowed in the sitting room, but that night we let them camp with us in front of the fire and didn’t venture anywhere else until mum and dad got home.

That same winter, my dad was preparing one evening to go out to work. He often worked night shifts at Birmingham International Airport, and had a 70 minute commute. He was tying his shoe laces in the sitting room, and just happened to glance up at where my mum was sitting on a couch watching the TV. He said, with some astonishment: “There’s a man sat next to you”. Although my mum didn’t see him, apparently she had a sudden and overwhelming mental image of a man. They described to each other what they saw: a small, slightly balding man in smart attire (jacket and waistcoat) with a pipe.

I only “saw” (rather than heard, smelt or felt) something unexplained once. My bedroom opened onto the long hallway, which also connected to the sitting room. After having lounged around in bed until 1100hrs one Saturday morning, I decided I needed to go and speak to my dad about something. Opening my bedroom door, I was aware, in the corner of my eye, the shadow of a figure passing into the sitting room. As dad and I were the only ones in the house, I was immediately certain it was my father and so went down the hallway to speak to him. I was a little surprised to find the sitting room door shut, but when I opened it and found the room empty, I again experienced that feeling of the hairs on my head standing on end. There was nothing in the room (which was probably why I found it so disturbing), but the atmosphere seemed very heavy, very close (I hope those terms mean something to you, I don’t know how else to describe it).

My dad had at least two other singularly memorable unexplained experiences. He was into DIY (Do it yourself: home improvement) in a big way, particularly after he retired from his job. One of his projects was the refurbishing of the dining room. He was engaged, one day, in wallpapering the ceiling (no, I don’t quite understand why either). Suffice to say, up a ladder, with no one to assist him the inevitable happened: the paper came off the ceiling, the ladder slipped and he ended up on his arse draped in sodden wallpaper: whereupon he heard clearly in the room the sound laughter. A man’s laugh. As I have said, my father was an engineer: a practical man, not given to flights of fancy or imaginings, but he maintains that he heard a man guffawing at his misfortune.

The second experience occurred in the Fall before we sold the house. He was sat at his computer in the sitting room, doing something, when he felt a pair of hands rest on his shoulders. Assuming it was my mum, he turned to speak to her only to discover there was no one there. Yes, I know that’s a little dramatic, and it was enough to unnerve even him (this was a man who had been under fire during some troubles we Brits had in Cyprus, and so not a man to scare easily).

There are no other overtly strange experiences like those I have discussed that I recall. I always think it rather dubious to talk about “presences”, not least because of the subjectivity of the experience, but also because unless you have experienced it it’s impossible to know what someone talking about “presences” is going on about. One room in particular, however, the spare room (the one where my aunt stayed) always had a peculiar atmosphere: the rest of the house, despite its age, was light and airy (high ceilings, big windows), but this room always seemed dark and the air very close. After I got my first computer I’d spend hours on my own in my bedroom playing video games and surfing the internet for stuff I shouldn’t have been. Some nights I’d stay glued to the screen until the early hours, well after my mum and dad had gone to bed. Every once in a while, however, I’d be suddenly overcome with the feeling that I was no longer alone in my bedroom, that I was being watched. On those occasions, I found the feeling intolerable: I’d turn off my computer and go and sit with my mum and dad. Most of us (and many visitors to the house) experienced flickers of motion in the periphery of their vision (but I concede that could have been anything, manufactured into manifestations of the supernatural by credible minds that had heard first hand our “ghost stories”).

My dad made some enquiries in the village, with the local rogues in the pubs about the previous owners of the house and it turned out that in the sixties an elderly Belgian gentlemen had lived in the property: by all accounts he matched the description of the man mum and dad “perceived” that January evening. What an elderly Belgian gentlemen was doing living in “nowhere-upon-nothing”, Shropshire in the 1960′s I have no idea, but there you have it.

My only other unnerving experience took place one summer’s day when my family visited Ludlow Castle. Ludlow is a very ancient market town in Shropshire, with a large, fairly intact medieval castle. The castle figures fairly prominently in various parts of our nation’s history and has an accompanying history of grizzly going’s on (murders, tragic suicides and the such). Both my brother and I were in our teens by then (I was probably 17 or 18). Both of us were and are fairly intrepid: there’s no where we won’t explore (particularly together) and we’re not given (as a team) to fright (individually we’re a pair of cowards). We had been exploring this castle all morning when we happened upon a archway in one of the walls: the archway fed up at a steep angle through the wall but was either very dark or in complete darkness (I don’t recall which: the latter seems unlikely for a public historical attraction). I took two steps into this passage and came to a complete halt: I had an immediate feeling of absolute dread; I was suddenly cold and the hairs on my head stood on end. I’ve never experienced anything like it before or since. My words to my brother, in a tone of incredulity were “I can’t go on”. He gave me a look of filial contempt and walked two steps past me, then he too stopped, as if listening. He then turned back to me and said “I can’t either.” We departed swiftly and compared our feelings on the place which came out the same. I haven’t been back to Ludlow Castle since (more for lack of opportunity than anything else), and would be interested to visit the place again to see whether that passageway elicits the same response.

I’d like, if you will give me the time, to mention a couple of experiences my great aunt (the one who bequeathed us the carriage clock) had.

She used to recount a tale about the Roman road leading to the town of Montgomery. Montgomery is a small town just over the border in Wales and is served by a very long straight road (and there are not many of those in England) which reputedly had been laid by the Romans. She used to walk this road regularly with her mother when just a girl. On one occasion she recalls hearing the sound of a horse and carriage thundering along the road towards them (this was the early part of the last century: they did have cars, though not too many in rural Wales I suspect). Her mother said that they had to get off the road to let the carriage past, which duly they did and awaited the appearance of the carriage. The noise got louder and louder, but still they could see no sign of the carriage. Then, the noise went past them and receded into the distance, and still there was no sign of the carriage.

Early on in the years of the First World War my aunt was having breakfast one morning when she saw the face of her older brother at the window. She told her mother that Lance had come home. Upon investigation, of course, Lance was nowhere to be found. A month later the telegram from the War Office arrived, notifying the family that he had been killed in Palestine.

Later, having been made a widow at a fairly young age, she was living at the local Vicarage (I don’t know if such things are common outside of Britain: the vicarage is a property attached to a parish church used by the vicar and his family as a dwelling). She reported on a number of occasions hearing a knock at her parlour door (no, I don’t know what a parlour is, as distinct from a sitting room either); upon investigating which she would find no person, just the lingering smell of strong perfume.

Finally, I should like to mention a couple of experiences my dad has had more recently. He and my mother sold the Shropshire house about eight years ago, and have since lived in the West Country of England. A couple of months ago, he recounted to be an extremely vivid dream he had in which his father had come to him, held out his hand and said: “It’s time to go, come with me.” I think the imperative was delivered in a fatherly (rather than creepy) fashion but my dad recalls that in the dream he refused to go with my grandfather and said “No, I’m not ready yet”. Now, my dad is 75 years old and perhaps one can forgive him dreams about mortality. However, a few weeks after this dream he was driving along the side of the road when he saw a very old, very good (best) friend standing on the kerbside looking right at him and motioning to him. The friend was a chap my father had known when he had been working out in South East Asia.

This friend died thirty five years ago.

I’m not like my dad: I’m not mechanically minded, I’m far more credible (gullible(?)) than he is and though he’s very sanguine about these recent experiences I am less so. I had a dream quite recently in which I was standing at my father’s grave side. I try to be a skeptic: I like science, I like rationalism, I think the paranormal explanation should always, always be the last one you reach (and then only with considerable doubt): but this experience has rather unnerved me in the way that my previous encounters with the unexplained has not.

Source:ghostsandstories.com

He and a friend were planning a “surfing” trip along the east coast during a school break. They were anxious to get the trip started and found they couldn’t sleep the night before they were to leave. This friends family owned a house in Charleston very close to a very old and well known cemetery. The graves in this cemetery date back to the civil war and probably beyond. The cemetery was very dark, protected by a high wrought iron gate that was locked every evening. The farther back you went into this cemetery the darker it got. It was a moon lit night that night and the bet was that my dad could go further back into the cemetery than his friend would. The friend took the bet and both of them jumped over the gate.

Both of them continued to go further and further back into the cemetery. They were both sitting against one of the graves when my dad heard what he thought was someone shoveling dirt in the back corner. They both stopped talking, dad looked around one corner of the marker and his friend looked around the other side. The moon was bright, allowing my dad to see the silhouette of a tall thin older man, wearing a gray long sleeve coat, standing over a grave, digging a hole. Dad sat back against the grave marker and asked his friend, “do you see what I see?” His friend described exactly what my dad was seeing.

They both saw the old man standing over the grave, they saw him push the shovel into the ground and remove dirt, throw the dirt to the side of the grave and continue to shovel the dirt away. Dad moved around the grave to get a better look and in doing so made noise. The old man digging stopped what he was doing and looked in their direction. Both my dad and his friend took off running for the front gate, never looking back.

The next morning, before they left on the surfing trip, they returned to the cemetery, walked back to the grave site were they spotted the old man digging, fully expecting to find the grave uncovered, vandalized and probably robbed. What they discovered to their disbelief was, the grave was intact, there was no sign that the area had been disturbed and no evidence that anyone was ever there. The ground was solid, no indication that anyone had been there for weeks, months maybe yet both of them saw the old man removing dirt and getting deeper into the grave.

Source:ghostsandstories.com

I believe that our body is the vessel in which our soul or spirit resides. When we die our soul leaves the body and crosses over to the other side, another dimension. I still took it very hard as I have always been very close to both my parents.

That night at my folks home I went out and looked at the beautiful stars in the sky remembering what my dad always told his three grandchildren, “When I am gone from you I will never really be gone I will be the soft stars that shine at night and the wind that blows through the trees that will be me!”

I prayed for my dad to give me a sign that he made it and told him I would never say goodbye in my prayers always so long as I felt he would be near me and I would see him again. I have gotten many signs over the years the first being three feathers on my car door, many Dragonflies and much more. But the best was the night he came to me and sat on my bed holding my hands telling me he was okay at peace and free of pain. He looked just as he did before he passed only better somehow! He told me I was right about what I thought and for me to go on with my life and he would be watching over me and we would be together again in time.

I feel so blessed to have that connection with him and I know he is my guardian angel and my mom’s too as he is around her as well. I keep getting this feeling that I should write a book about this because so much has happened and not only to me. Who knows, maybe PaPa as the grandkids call him, will help me with that too.  In the hope that I may bring comfort to others that have lost loved ones and always wondered does the heart still go on?

Thanks PaPa for always being with me. I will meet you someday on the other side. Sing with the Angels for me! So long for now your little peanut!

I have had many things happen since 2001 including my Dad touching my hand in bed one night after asking him to. One of his favorites was to tickle my feet, sure scared me the first time though! I just felt there was too much to include here at this time. If you would ever want the full story sometime just let me know OK! Thanks, Sandy.

Sent in by Sandy Swager

Source:ghostsandstories.com

I didn’t take the picture, my cousin Phill’s father-in-law took it of his wife. They were in Germany a few years ago and were sightseeing. When they got back and had the photos developed they noticed this eerie crouching anomaly in the background, kneeling down! As you can imagine they were shocked to the core.

No one knows if it is a ghost or an alien. What they do know is that there was no one around at the time, the area was quiet and deserted.

I have no idea what to do with this info, I wandered if you’d be interested.

Note from the CareTaker: This image has been altered by me only to block out the face to keep the person in the photograph anonymous. I did this at the request of Colin who was kind enough to send this photo in to us here. I really look forward to seeing what everyone thinks about this one!

Strange Creature on German Shore

Sent in by Colin Foster from Wordsley, West Midlands, England

Source:ghostsandstories.com

Me and my ex-girlfriend had recently returned from a great trip in northern England, mainly the desolate, remote and frankly quite eerie North Yorkshire moors. I had my new digital camera and took literally hundreds of pictures of the beautiful panoramic landscapes. Now, I often capture many ‘orbs’ but this photo is simply fantastic.

We noticed nothing at the time the picture was taken, however upon arriving back home in the Midlands around a week later I was scanning photos on my PC when my girlfriend suddenly grabbed my hand and said ‘STOP!’ She insisted I zoom in to the centre left of one particular picture, (SD 10306) which I’d taken of the rather stunning snow covered fields. (The date on the alien/ghost picture is 19.01.2009, time is 14:14).

At first I never saw it but as soon as we zoomed in… we just turned to each other slowly, and quite frankly swore, which I wont repeat. All my friends and family are scratching their heads in awe. I’m not to sure where to send this so I thought I’d start with you.

Ghost in the North Yorkshire Moors of England?

Zoom of Ghost in the North Yorkshire Moors of England?

Colin Foster in North Yorkshire Moors

Please please can you put our minds at rest with this photograph. I’ve even included a couple of photos of me to try to prove the authenticity of my pictures.

Sent in by Colin Foster from Wordsley, West Midlands, England.

Source:ghostsandstories.com

For most of my life, I have always felt that I have had something with me, I have never felt alone. But it has never been good feelings. When I moved in to the house I live in now, (I live in South Africa) I experienced many things in this house. When we first moved in, about three days later, I was unpacked and feeling anxious about living in this house; if only I knew why at the time.

I went to bed that night, I cant remember the exact time, but I was woken up by a noise, as if somebody was in a hurry to get somewhere and they had jerked my mothers bedroom door open and was rushing down the passage toward the kitchen. Naturally I got a fright. I thought my mom had received an urgent phone call and was rushing out of the house. I jumped up from bed and pulled my door open and realized my mother was still safely in bed, sleeping. I was shaking and almost in tears. Many nights after that I heard running and sometimes walking late at night, on our wooden passage floor. It fooled me many times until I learned it was a spirit of some kind.

I must admit, I have been involved in the esoteric, but I have never played a Ouija board and never will, and have not gone too far into the supernatural although I drink up every bit of info or story I can. My mom always taught me to respect what we don’t know and what power they might have, that is why I cannot understand where the Shadow Person comes from.

Some nights, well, many nights, I have nightmares about these spirits. I remember one really scary dream that I have had a few times, where I am looking into a mirror, and the face staring back is my own, but you can clearly see it is evil with an evil grin and evil eyes. One night I was sleeping, and I woke up and saw a dark hooded figure in my doorway when I sat up, it was gone.

I have taken pictures in that house and there is like, a dark mist in the frame that was never there when I took the picture. Someone will take the same picture and there will be nothing there! Even pictures taken of me will have a dark mist across the frame. I have also noticed a blonde little boy following me. He is a good spirit, I know that. For some warped reason, I named him Ethan.

I have had experiences where I become paralyzed, and hear this evil laughing while I cant move, something invisible crawling on my bed and making the covers heavy, my stuff would move by itself in front of my eyes and stuff would be hauled off my dresser.

I’m used to it by now but would anybody have any advice on what to do about my Evil situation?

Written by Wendy Senekal

Source:ghostsandstories.com

I was ten when I say my first ghost . . .

I was in the Philippines. There was a brown out, or as people there call it, a brown out. I wanted all the attention so I went inside my pitch black house, to get the candles. When I entered my kitchen, I saw a towering figure.

Since it was dark I couldn’t really see, but I made out the lines of his body. He was tall, with a large overcoat, and his right hand was raised in the air. I didn’t see what was in the hand, but I assumed it was a knife.

So I ran out, screaming at the top of my lungs. When my dad came in with a bat, I don’t know where he got it, the man was gone.

Source:ghostsandstories.com

It all started ages ago when I was about 3 and apparently I was in my room playing with my toys and talked to these three children ghosts dressed in white. I showed them my toys and then my mum came in and asked who I was talking to and I pointed into thin air. I said one was sitting on the curtains….how??

My house was hit by a bomb in the world war also an inventor used to live in my house! The house was rebuilt so they could appear anywhere in the house!

But it was strange that my cousin, when he was really small, said that he saw lots of people in my room. A few years ago I invited my friend over to my house. We took some photos because we felt like it and when we looked at them, behind my friend’s head was a mirror. In the mirror we saw the reflection of a female middle aged woman with black hair. We both got seriously freaked out after this.

Also we took a video and dropped the camera on the floor after using it and forgot it whilst wiping up a spillage. The camera moved by itself facing the window and there were about five orbs passing the camera! And the freakiest experience ever was when I fell asleep on the sofa in the living room; something got me to wake up in the middle of the night and behind the TV I SAW HER STARING AT ME!!! Just as if she had the biggest shock of her life and glaring at me. She wasn’t see-through and I pulled the covers over me trying to persuade myself that I didn’t see anything and to forget about it.

But everyday I felt my spine being touched and it feels so ticklish that I need to scratch it. My room is so cold that it is very hard to get it to room temperature, stuff in my room make weird noises and stuff is knocked in front of my very eyes and a bag opened by itself when I was in the bathroom, with the door shut! My friend even heard tapping on the window and felt something pinch her knee.

But even though she sometimes makes me so scared, I don’t think she is evil! Because she has been with me for most of my life

Sorry I had to write such I long experience hope you liked it.

Source:ghostsandstories.com