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The best ghost and horror stories have an uncanny ability to make you feel real, believable, and absolutely terrified. They almost promise that you will spend at least one night (if not more) tossing and turning, listening for creaking floors and the sound of ghostly moaning. Naturally, such is the paradox of ghost stories. Your ability to sleep at night will worsen the better they are. This is true even if you're a die-hard supernatural believer—you know, the kind of person who has learned the history of Halloween, isn't frightened to look at some spooky pictures, is familiar with the origins of Halloween monsters, and spends Friday the thirteenth reading Ouija board tales.
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We've gathered some eerie tales that are sure to frighten you in the spirit of the season; they're all based on actual incidents. In order to prepare for ghost stories so genuine and horrifying that you won't be able to sleep through the night, turn out the lights (if you're courageous enough).
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Reddit user PatentedSpaceHook recounts a real incident by saying, "I've never lived in a haunted house, but my mother did as a teen." "Other homes on her street also experienced weird occurrences. A family resided a few houses away from her. The girl had a terrible headache when she went to bed one night. She was gone the following day, having died of an aneurysm.
The father instructed my uncle—my mom's brother—to check on their dogs after her funeral as the family left to distract themselves from the tragedy. He invited my mother and father, who were at the time dating, since she wanted to play the grand piano there. My father was pursuing his veterinary degree.
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"My mother went to the piano on the ground level as soon as we entered the house, while my uncle and father proceeded to the basement to examine the animals. When she felt something brush her ankles, she was still playing it. She reasoned that a cat must have emerged from the cellar and moved past her. Her game continued. Then it came back to her again.
She searched underneath the piano but found nothing. She felt hands tightly grab her legs as she restarted. My father and uncle were waiting for her as she hurried to the basement entrance. My mum was visibly shaken when my uncle returned outside and he enquired as to what was happening.
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He turned white when she explained what had occurred. He revealed to her that the deceased daughter and her deceased father used to play a game. She would scurry underneath him as he played the piano, grip his ankles, and move his feet up and down the pedals.
You could enjoy visiting the most haunted locations in America, according to paranormal specialists, if that experience seems exciting to you.
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“The ambulance company that I used to work for had a ‘haunted’ ambulance: rig 12,” recounts Reddit.com user Zerbo. “A lot of EMTs had stories about it, but I never put much stock in paranormal stuff. That is, until I had my own experience with rig 12.
“My partner and I were working in a rural community at 3 a.m., and it was pitch-dark and completely quiet. We were both dozing; I was in the driver’s seat, and she was in the passenger seat. I woke up to a muffled voice, but I thought my partner was talking. I told her I was trying to sleep and closed my eyes. I distinctly heard a male voice say, ‘Oh my God, am I dying?’ followed by a few seconds of heavy breathing. My partner and I sat up straight and looked back into the patient compartment, where it sounded like the voice had come from.
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“Things were quiet for a couple of seconds; then we heard the click of an oxygen-bottle regulator and a hiss, as if it was leaking. I turned on the lights, and we ran out of the rig. I thought a transient might have climbed in while we were asleep, so we opened the rear doors. No one was there. I checked the oxygen bottles; neither was opened. We didn’t sleep much after that.”
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For years, my neighbour Diane and I had a jovial poltergeist that we named Billy. This is how Reddit user abbys alibi starts their true ghost story. "When I got home, I'd discover things that had been placed in odd places, like milk in a cabinet, toilet paper in the refrigerator, and laundry detergent in the bathtub. When Diane couldn't find a gallon of milk, she once called Billy to see if he had been around. Finally, it was discovered outside on her back stairs. Also, sugar, oh sugar! My sugar bowl was empty every morning.
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When I had had enough, I would yell, "Go see Diane!" and point to her house. She'd give me a call in about five minutes. She would say, "Thanks a lot." He had gone and committed mischief at her house. Throughout the two years we were there, this kept happening. Nobody, not even our husbands, had any faith in us. My mother believed that whether we were asleep or away from the house, someone was robbing us. My sister thought there was something going on, but she wasn't sure what. I'm still unable to express anything.
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Before Reddit.com user Digsdaws got down to recounting their scariest of ghost stories—about living in a place that was obviously teaming with honest-to-goodness members of the spiritual world—they pointed out the irony of ghost stories that begin with the phrase, “I don’t believe in ghosts, but …” After all, no matter how a ghost story begins, it always hinges on the notion that, come on, of course we believe in ghosts!
“A few years ago, I moved into a one-bedroom apartment in Melbourne, Australia,” they went on to recall. “It was my first time living on my own. The apartment block had been built in the 1930s. I’d been there for a few months when I came home from work one day and went into the bathroom. I saw something strange: A wooden board, which had covered a hole in the ceiling that led to a small attic space, lay fractured in two pieces on the ground. I examined the pieces. The board was an inch thick, and it would have taken Bruce Lee to break it. I thought the landlord had sent someone to work on the attic. I was frozen stiff with fear. Someone is up there for sure, I thought.
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“I emailed pictures to the landlord, asking if anyone had been there (with an undertone of annoyance, since she hadn’t warned me). Her reply read, ‘Please call me as soon as you are able to.’ I called, and she explained that her last two tenants had said the same thing happened. She promised to replace the board, and she did.
“A month later, I woke up one night around 4 a.m. My body was covered in goose bumps. It felt like someone was rubbing his or her hands on me. Everything was silent, but then I heard a dragging sound coming from above my bed. It was as if someone was pulling a sack of potatoes. I froze, convinced someone was up there. There is no way an animal could make that sound. After five minutes, I worked up the courage to turn on the light, armed myself with a cricket bat and walked to the bathroom.
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“That’s when I saw that the new board covering the hole was broken in two! I felt sick. The dragging sound had stopped. But I heard something else: whispering. The sound was clear and coming from the attic. It sounded like children’s voices, and I could hear one sentence repeated over and over: ‘It’s your turn … It’s your turn …’
“I switched on every light in the apartment to make things feel normal. It was 5 a.m. and dark outside. I watched TV to try to unwind. Then a fuse blew. My pet budgie, Dexter, whom I kept in the kitchen, usually never made a sound at night, but he started squawking like he was being strangled. I’d never heard him make those sorts of noises—he was screaming. I grabbed my car keys, ran out, sat in my car and waited there until the sun came up.
“When I saw people walking their dogs, this comforted me enough to go back in. The front door was open, but I figured I might’ve forgotten to close it when I ran out. I went to the kitchen to check on Dexter, but he wasn’t in his cage.
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“I felt sick again. All my windows were closed, so I looked everywhere inside. When I walked to the bathroom, I heard splashing. Dexter was half drowned in the toilet! I took him out, washed him and dried him. I was so confused. At 8 a.m., I called the landlord and gave her a watered-down version of the night. ‘Oh, wow, you heard the whispering too!’ she said.
“I stayed in that apartment for another 18 months. I heard the whispering on a few occasions, and twice the board covering the hole in the ceiling moved. Although I live elsewhere now, the landlord recently called. She said that her new tenants had begged to speak with me about some of the stuff that’s been going on there. Forget it—it’s their problem now.“
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“One night when I was 10, I was woken up by my bedroom door opening, followed by someone sitting on my bed,” Reddit.com user kmendo4 recalls of a childhood brush with a very persistent ghostly apparition. “I felt my leg grazed and the bed sink under a person’s weight. It’s just Mom, I thought, and I opened my eyes.
No, it wasn't my mother. At the foot of my bed, I discovered a youngster of my age who was missing both of his eyes and had black, empty sockets. He held out his hand, revealing a small box inside. Though surprised, I extended my hand. He retreated. I swung again and commanded, "Give it." I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, he was gone. However, I could still make out where he had sat on my bed.
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"Jump ahead five years. To finish her schoolwork, my girlfriend came over. She finished up and then napped as she awaited her folks. I made an effort to wake her awake when they got there. She looked up at a corner where the wall and ceiling meet as she suddenly opened her eyes. She indicated it and then turned back to sleep. I shook her once more. As soon as she regained consciousness, I told her what she had done. She appeared paralysed. "Up on the wall, I noticed a young child without eyes. He was there, emulating Spider-Man, and he was looking at me. I panicked and related my experience with the same child to her.
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“Fast-forward another five years. I was with the same girlfriend, and we had a 2-year-old. We were living in my parents’ house, in my old room. My daughter started waking up at the same time every night, and she’d talk. After a while, I noticed she had almost the same conversation every night. I playfully asked her once whom she was talking to. She said, ‘It’s a little boy. He’s nice. He’s lost and looking for his mommy.’ My daughter’s nightly conversations continued until we got our own place later that year.”
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Here is a story that dates back to 1910, but almost any student at Huntingdon College in Montgomery, Alabama, should recognize it. That’s because the events that led up to it are said to have actually happened. As the story goes, in 1910, a young woman who was new to the school was known for her love of the color red. Sadly, she was also known for being “strange” and a “loner.”
The young girl became more and more alone as the first term progressed. She eventually slashed her wrists to end her life. Her bloody body was found draped in a crimson dress. Since that time, faculty members and students have been reporting sightings of a young woman who is completely covered in crimson. She has made appearances all over the college campus. The perpetually alone figure is frequently used as a lesson in the value of treating others with respect.
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A common thread across many ghost stories is that they provide a sense of justice in response to a tragic death. But this specific ghost story offers a slightly different perspective. It deals with wrongdoing after death and retribution in the next life.
On October 13, 1877, Robert Schmale was hanged after a trial that found him guilty of a terrifying and inexplicable murder spree. The townspeople were filled with so much anger and hatred that they left his body hanging for days. The tale says not one of the townspeople demonstrated even a shred of remorse, let alone forgiveness.
Since then, Schmale is rumoured to haunt the neighbourhood. People who have seen him claim that he appears as a ghostly male form, but as soon as the image of the figure enters your consciousness, it abruptly and frustratingly vanishes into the night.
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The brothers Edward and Richard, two young princes who were held in the Tower of London in order to keep them from becoming the king and the heir apparent, respectively, are the subject of this tale. When King Edward IV passed away in April 1483, his 12-year-old eldest son, Edward V, briefly ascended the throne. He had a regent chosen for him because to his inexperience. The uncle of the young monarch was that regent. This uncle, who went by the name of the Duke of Gloucester, was well known for harbouring intense resentment toward the sons. He would have been the next in line had it not been for them.
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What happened next is steeped in obscurity; in fact, it is one of the most bizarre mysteries involving the British royal family. The young king and his brother, Richard, the Duke of York, are believed to have been abducted and imprisoned in the Tower of London before the Duke of Gloucester proclaimed himself King Richard III. Two tiny skeletons that were finally discovered in the tower are thought to be all that's left of the two young princes—aside from the ghostly apparitions, that is—since they were never seen or heard from again.
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