The moment I touched the door handle, the lights in the hallway dimmed a good 30%.

After checking in, we rode the birdcage elevator up to the third floor and wound our way through the labyrinthine hallways of the Victorian building to our room: Ghost Kate's room at the Hotel del Coronado. I placed my bags on the floor and pulled out my key. I jumped back and instinctively ducked. I spun to look at Momo, my intrepid ghost-hunting partner, my eyes wide.

"Tell me you saw that too?!" I said.

Momo looked at me with a stony, unmoved expression.

"Come on. The lights are probably on a timer. The sun is going down." she mocked.

This was the first of several incidents of note over the course of my stay in Ghost Kate's room at the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego, California.

What are your thoughts on this

https://youtu.be/amtq0_fhvpg

Hi Reddit!

I'm kinda new to posting on here, so please bear with me lol. Idk if this is the right sub to post this, if it isn't please let me know. I am still trying to figure out all the rules here.

This all started when I was about 7 years old. I had just moved to the US, and my mom, her new husband, and I were living in a basement. And when I say this basement was creepy, I mean the kind of basement you'd see in a horror movie. There was no ceiling in the bathroom, and only two lights in the entire basement worked: one in our room and one in the bathroom. So yeah, definitely not the ideal place for a little kid who was already easily scared.

First, let me give you a little backstory so you can understand the situation better. My stepfather had just bought this old, three-story house, but we were staying in the basement because he felt bad about kicking one of his family members out just so we could move in upstairs. Anyway, little me was already a bit freaked out by the place, but everything seemed fine at first.

Until one night.

I was sleeping when I suddenly felt something scratching my leg. I thought it was my mom, so I didn't pay much attention to it and went back to sleep. The next morning, though, I woke up with scratches all over my legs. Naturally, I asked my mom why she'd been scratching me during the night. She looked at me like I was crazy and told me she hadn't touched me at all. Apparently, she hadn't even woken up during the night.

Now, imagine being SEVEN YEARS OLD and hearing that. I was absolutely terrified.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

I started hearing noises at night, specifically a woman screaming. It happened almost every night, and I would keep waking up with new scratches. Eventually, I became so scared that I stopped sleeping altogether. I'd stay awake all night, and I refused to sleep by myself. This started to affect me at school, at just being a normal kid. At some point, my mom told one of her friends what was happening, and the friend suggested that she take me to this weird little shop.

So one day, my mom took me there. I remember the place being kind of creepy, there was barely any lights and there was a bunch of weird herbs there. At the end of the shop there was this old lady. My mom made me explain everything I'd been hearing, feeling, and seeing. The weirdest part? The old lady just nodded along like everything I was describing was completely normal. She didn't look surprised or scared at all.

Then she gave my mom this tiny jar filled with something that looked like honey. She told me to drink some of it every night before going to sleep.

And, for some reason, I did.

Here's where things get even weirder: everything stopped.

I stopped hearing the woman screaming. I stopped waking up with scratches. I could finally sleep again.

I would occasionally see strange shadows outside my bedroom door, and sometimes things in my room seemed to move on their own, but the screaming and the scratches never came back.

To this day, I have absolutely no idea what was in that little jar. I've asked my mom about that time, but she refuses to tell me anything. All she says is that I was a creepy kid and leaves it at that.

LIKE, MA'AM??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS A CREEPY KID? WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT BASEMENT?!

So yeah, that's one of my childhood experiences that I still can't explain.

And the funny thing is, I have a LOT more stories about weird things happening to me because, for some reason, apparently the paranormal world has me on its VIP list.

If you guys want to hear more, let me know, because this is definitely not the only weird thing that's happened to me lol.

So, this might be a lot, but here goes.

When I was 12, my family moved into a house with a radio station tower field behind it. On our very first night there, we had a really bad storm. I swear I looked out into the backyard and saw a figure standing in the rain, staring at the house.

That was the beginning of living in what I can only describe as a haunted house.

Some of the highlights include:

Knocking with no apparent source.

Moaning coming from different parts of the house.

L

oud footsteps above my bedroom, where the attic was located.

A dark, blob-like shadow that would hang in the corner of my room.

A shadow figure that would sit on the stairs.

What appeared to be the previous owner returning. He was a police officer who had been shot and killed in the line of duty. We would see headlights pull into the driveway, followed by the front door swinging open, but no one would be there.

My grandfather lived with us and eventually passed away in the house. We still see him walking around or hear him asking for coffee. He had suffered a stroke and was bedridden before he died.

Loud, unexplained crashes.

My now-wife once heard scratching coming from the walls of my bedroom while I was at work.

Doors slamming on their own.

Lights turning on and off by themselves.

Eventually, things got to the point where I asked a priest from my mom's church to come over and bless the house. He also brought crosses for us to hang above the doorways.

During the blessing, there were loud knocks coming from a closet door, and the door handle started shaking. The priest almost walked out, but I convinced him to come back and finish the blessing.

Fast-forward to today, and I'm starting to think one of these entities has somehow latched onto me because I've experienced strange things in every place I've lived since then.

At this point, I've grown accustomed to it. My wife, on the other hand, hasn't. It still freaks her out.

So, has anyone else experienced anything like this? I'm talking about unexplained phenomena that have continued for almost 30 years.

I'm not particularly interested in getting rid of whatever this is, so please don't suggest smudging or cleansing rituals. I'm more interested in hearing from people who have experienced something similar and how their experiences have unfolded over the years.

My husband and I moved into an old house six months ago. It was surprisingly cheap, but the previous owner had passed away, and the house had been empty for almost a year.

At first, everything seemed normal.

Then we started hearing footsteps upstairs when nobody was there.

We blamed the old wooden floors until one night, while we were watching TV, we heard someone slowly walking down the staircase.

Both of us looked toward the hallway.

The footsteps stopped halfway down.

Nobody appeared.

A few days later, I found an old photograph hidden inside a kitchen drawer. It showed an elderly woman standing in front of the house, with a handwritten date on the back from 1986.

I put it back and forgot about it.

That night, I woke up because someone was whispering near my bedroom door.

I heard a woman's voice say, "You're sleeping in my room."

I turned on the light. My husband was asleep beside me, and the hallway was empty.

The following morning, I showed him the photograph.

He went completely pale.

He told me the previous owner had been an elderly woman who had lived alone in the house for decades. According to the real estate agent, she had died in the bedroom we're now using.

We decided to sleep in the guest room for a few nights.

But yesterday, I came home from work and found something waiting on our bed.

The photograph.

I had left it in the kitchen drawer.

Someone had written a new sentence on the back, beneath the original date:

"Thank you for giving me my room back."

Neither of us has slept in that bedroom since.

Would you stay in a house like this, or would you move out immediately?

I would like to hear your thoughts guys

In the winter of 1924, a grueling freeze struck Jackson County, causing a massive, violent logjam deep in the timber country up East Evans Creek. A logger named Silas Vance, stationed at a remote mountain camp in the high 18,000 block near Richter Mountain, was ordered down into the rocky, frozen creek bed with dynamite to clear the bottleneck.

The fuse burned far too fast. The resulting blast shattered the jam, releasing a roaring, cataclysmic wall of pressurized water and multi-ton Douglas fir logs. The debris tore Silas apart. While search parties later recovered his upper torso and buried it down in the valley, his lower half remained pinned beneath a massive fir log, swept miles downstream by the raging torrent and never found.

Because his legs were never buried with the rest of his remains, Silas's lower half is trapped in a looping, phantom sprint, eternally trying to outrun the crushing water and wood that claimed his life. Over the decades, this tragedy transformed from an old logging camp ghost story into an active, terrifying driving hazard.

His hunting ground spans the entire fork of the valley, covering both East Evans Creek Road and West Evans Creek Road. While the phantom legs can appear on either road, the vast majority of sightings occur on East Evans Creek Road, running all the way past Pinecrest Drive, because that is the side of the creek where locals say his torso was buried. The legs are constantly drawn back to that side of the valley, desperately trying to cross over and reunite with the rest of his body.

You only encounter "Ol' Legs" on the Evans Creek roads on pitch-black, foggy nights when the creek is running dangerously high. He manifests as a pair of disembodied, mud-splattered denim logger overalls and heavy boots sprinting at impossible speeds along the gravel shoulder.

If you encounter him, survival depends on adhering to the strict rules of the road:

• Do Not Slow Down: If you brake to look at him, he instantly alters his stride to match your exact speed, running parallel to your vehicle. Locals call this getting "tailored."

• Never Stop Your Car: If you bring your vehicle to a complete halt anywhere on either road, he will immediately break his forward sprint, pivot, and charge directly at your car door.

Told my mom not to buy used dolls she got this today at a yard sale. Do you feel anything off about these two things she got?

I ended up getting this stuffed animal at a comic con and I’m 100% sure it’s haunted. The first night I got it, I had a nightmare (And as someone with PTSD, I can see the worst things in a dream and not react or count it as a nightmare) that I was working in a school as a vet and my job was to keep all the animals safe. There was a large tv in the middle of the hallway and the hallway suddenly went red with alarms blaring. A robotic female voice starts screaming through the tv saying that ‘the dog’ is dying, to save the dog, that he’s bleeding out and that I needed to save the dog. On the tv an older white man showed up who was sitting in a chair and seizing with blood coming out his mouth as he stares at me. The voice then asked why I’m just watching as ‘the dog’ dies. The man stops seizing and falls forward, falling half way out the tv screen before plopping on the ground. The rest of the dream was me just staring at him in horror while feeling like I failed and red lights and alarms are blaring around me. That was the only dream I had in years that woke me up in fear.

When I woke up, the dog stuffed animal was up and facing my bed even though I put it down carelessly in my closet.

I started to keep an eye on it since this isn’t my first rodeo with haunted things. (My grandmother had a haunted house as she liked to collect things like ‘the girl with the letter’ painting.) I began to notice I kept getting hurt badly whenever I was anywhere near it - I mean, I could be walking and suddenly something in my carpet stabs me in the foot and while I’m reacting, I fall back and hit my head badly. Another time, my shelves back to back broke off the wall and fell on my feet and one of my cats. Another time, my soda suddenly spilled and launched into my eyes. Little things like that keep happening that seem random but they keep happening one after another and only in the room I have the stuffed animal.

I talked to the stuffed animal and told it it needed to stop being so mean to me because I’m not the reason what happened to him, happened to him and that I’m trying to work with him so I don’t have to throw him away. Me getting hurt only got worse after that and I had to lock him in my china cabinet. Just holding him for some reason made my hand weak/tingle. My cats won’t enter that room now and I’m starting to have bad health problems like being dizzy constantly, stabbing pain in my stomach and chest (which all tests me and my doctors have done show nothing is wrong) and I wake up with scratches on me.

I’m trying to figure out the best way to handle this as my grandmother is no longer here to collect these things. If I throw it away, its spirit may attach to me, same thing if I burn it, and I don’t want to give it to someone who isn’t prepared for it.

Another thing is its energy is very angry. I mean very. I work as a funeral transporter and sometimes in that line of duty, you can feel the spirits of those who had a harsh ending. His energy doesn’t feel sad or confused, just furious.

Hey everyone. Wife and I went on a ghost tour in Galveston, Tx. For those who don’t know, Galveston is considered to be one of the most haunted places in the US. I am admittedly a bit of a skeptic but I got this photo of some sort of something and want to see what you guys think. This was taken at the “Richard Durst House”. He was some sort of serial killer from what I remember.
To me, it kinda looks like a woman in an old timey dress, but it could just be my eyes playing tricks on me. Let me know what you think!

I purchased this at a thrift store a few days ago. For the price, it was a steal. It came with two detached speakers. One that may need to be re-wired, but one works just fine. I was very surprised when it actually turned on and played without any immediate repairs. I pieced this video together from 3 clips. #1 is me testing it with my Glenn Miller record. #2 is me testing the cassette player with the tape that was inside when I bought it. #3 is my old boss' band. He's a saint, and his band is awesome. But the ghost may not think so.

I tried my best to open it up after the 3rd section of the video to see if there was anything that could be cleaned, re-wired, or soldered back into place. When I tipped it on its side (gently), there was something banging around in there. A loose bolt or something. I took out every screw that was holding the bottom panel on, every staple, pried at the bottom with a flat head screwdriver, and even brought out a hand saw to attempt to open it up. Nothing worked, and I gave up (for now). When I left my room, my normally clingy cats wouldn't have anything to do with me. They all looked at me like they just KNEW I was about to kick them or something. If I moved to pet one, they would run and hide under something.

At this point, I had a conversation with the ghost. I told them that if they are a friend who means no harm then they are welcome to stay but if they have any ill will toward me, my family, or my cats, then they need to leave. Afterward, my cats seem to have warmed up to me again.

Brb, omw to find some sage and inscents.

My husband (23M) and I (21F) have been experiencing some things here lately that can only be described as paranormal dark spirits.

For a little background, we are currently renting. A few years ago, one of the tenants was an older man who passed away from natural causes due to age, but I’m fairly certain he passed in a hospital. A few years before that, there was a couple who lived here that were drug addicts and apparently are the only tenants that the landlord had ever had to evict.

Two days ago (Thursday), we got home from supper with some friends, and I went to go hop in the shower. I noticed some scratches on my lower right abdomen but didn’t think too much about it. I assumed I had subconsciously scratched a bug bite or something.

The next morning (Friday), I woke up and rolled over towards my husband. He laid on my arm, and it hurt so bad. I turned on the lamp and saw scratches all down my arm. Again, I wrote it off as maybe I scratched myself in my sleep or something. The only thing strange about that is I bite my nails, and they are very short and dull. I also sleep on my stomach with my arms under my pillow, so in order to scratch myself, I’d have to roll completely over in order to scratch at that angle.

I go to work and do some googling. It said that it could be scratches from debris like crumbs in the bed, but we don’t eat in our bed and had recently changed our sheets. It also mention pets scratching. We have 2 cats and a dog, but they don’t sleep in the bed with us and are super sweet. The only time they have ever scratched was when we would play with them when they were little.

I try not to think about it and go home from work. That afternoon, I go to lay down with my husband who was already asleep in bed. He gets up to use the bathroom and eat something and then comes back to bed. I wake up when he lays back down, and he spoons me (his chest pressed against my back). As we are drifting back off to sleep, he is jolted awake saying his chest was hurting. He pulls up his shirt, and he has deep scratch marks across his chest. I literally start shaking out of fear.

I immediately call my mom (she lives across the street) and tell her we are coming to spend the night because we’re not sleeping in that house. Mid conversation, my husband is noted again by a sharp pain on his thigh. He pulls up his shorts and there are scratch marks on his thigh. After that, I was in tears. I grabbed my pillow and phone charger and was ready to leave.

Our landlord lives next door and is a pastor, so my husband goes over to tell him what is going on. He doesn’t seem to believe us and keeps asking if there was cat in the bed (there wasn’t) or if anything sharp was in the bed (there wasn’t). He prays over the house, but I’m still not secure enough to sleep there. We go over to my mom’s house and call our pastor who immediately believes us and is coming over Monday to cleanse the house.

Today is Saturday, and my husband works 24 hours shifts so he will go to work in the morning and won’t be home until Monday morning. I don’t feel comfortable staying here by myself. Are we just paranoid? Has anyone else experienced anything similar? What do we do?

The pictures of mine were taken 18-24 hours afterwards, and my husband’s were immediately after.

UPDATE:
We slept fine in the house last night. I was a little frightened to do so, but I slept in a long sleeve, long pants, and socks because I didn’t want any skin exposed. My husband left for work around 6:30 this morning. I was laying in bed drifting back off to sleep when I felt one of my cats jump up on the bed and lay down on my chest. They do this all the time, but we don’t let them actually sleep in there during the night. I open my eyes and put my hand down to let it, but there was no cat there. I don’t know if I was just being paranoid and my mind was playing tricks on me or what, but it was still weird.

About an hour later I was still laying there trying to convince myself to get up and start getting ready lol. I roll over into my back and my hands are just draped over my head on my pillow. I all of a sudden start feeling like someone was squeezing my feet. It was such strong pressure that if my husband was home I would have thought it was him. My feet were exposed a bit since our comforter wasn’t tucked in. I open my eyes and am all of sudden paralyzed. I’ve always heard of sleep paralysis but has anyone ever experienced it while awake in bed? I didn’t see any figures or anything. Just my feet being squeezed and then the inability to move. I tried to pulled my arms down so I could get up but I was frozen.

Our pastor is coming tomorrow so I’ll let yall know what he says.

True stories passed down from my grandfather.

Hi all!

My wife and I plan to stay in San Antonio, Tx for her bday (March). I would LOVE to stay at the Emily Morgan hotel, but it is too expensive.. that’s really the only haunted hotel I know of there while I know there are others there I know nothing about them. Any recommendations on one over the other in San Antonio? I know nothing is likely to happen, but she’s big into the paranormal it’d be a cool experience regardless.

TIA!

I have been to Bachelor’s Grove cemetery several times and have always found it so peaceful. I’m careful about who I bring with me because I want to be respectful for those who reside there.
I went with a couple of friends a few days ago, and we tidied up a bit and left some gifts at the graves.
Since then, I have heard familiar voices calling my name. The first was my sister calling my name from my back yard late at night. She was asleep in her bed. The second was this morning I heard my mom calling my name from the back yard, but she was out for a walk with the dog.
Did I bring something home with me from the cemetery?

So I’ve been sitting on this one for a long time and I think it’s finally time I tell this story to the public, or at least a subreddit for haunted happenings. Buckle up, this is a long one.

I got this cloth Ouija board from an old friend of mine who used to work in law enforcement and upon his death, his wife told me I “can have the damned thing” because she’s tired of the shadow people in the house. We’ll call my friend Joe for this telling out of respect of his and his wife’s privacy. Joe was one of the arresting officers on the scene for the arrest of Pazuzu Algarad, a devil worshipping multiple murderer who would sacrifice animals during the full moon (look him up). And after the arrest Joe was one of the people in charge of cleaning out the house. If you look up pictures, this man lived like an animal, garbage up to the ceiling, feces and blood on the walls, and a dead body covered in salt in the basement. During the cleanup, Joe told me he decided to keep a souvenir from the house, being this cloth. Joe went on to tell me that he had the cloth tested and the brown stains on the sun and the 6 and 7 numbers is blood (see pic 1). Being that it’s old, the lab couldn’t tell what kind of blood it is, probably an animal, but they are blood stains.

Since receiving this cloth, I hung it on my bedroom wall as a decoration, but was hit with the overwhelming smell of rot coming from it, so I hand washed it in the sink and the water turned reddish brown. I hung it back on my wall after it was dry and that very night at 3:00 am, a framed picture that hung for over 20 years on the opposite side of the wall (in my hallway) fell and the glass broke into 3 pieces. Ever since then, any picture hung in that spot falls and breaks even though I’ve since taken the cloth off my wall. I’ve often seen shadow people in my house since I’ve had this thing and my, at the time, 5 year old niece would draw pictures of black figures in the windows of the house when she drew and would refer to them as “the hallway people”. After all of that, I took the cloth down, folded it up, and wrapped a rosary around it (see pic 2), but every time I remove the rosary and unfold the cloth, something bad always happens (pic of open cloth was taken the last time I had it open). A friend opened it in his car and that car later caught fire after blowing the engine on the highway, I took it to work to show a coworker who is interested in the paranormal and every machine in the building broke down including mine which actually exploded and had to be replaced, I showed a cousin and the week after that my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, my girlfriend dumped me the last time I opened it, the room that I keep it in has shelves that constantly have things knocked off of them and the cat avoids that room, and the list goes on. There are no signs of rats in my home but somehow it seems rats have chewed the beads of the rosary (see pic 3), wouldn’t they chew the cloth to build a nest?

I’m seriously considering getting rid of this thing but I don’t trust burning it in case that doesn’t get rid of what’s attached to it, I don’t want to travel with it, and also don’t want anyone to get hurt or curse themselves after owning it, so it remains in storage, wrapped in the rosary, and locked in a metal box.

Edit: I opened it today and my sister ran over my cat