Universal Monster Army

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This first story comes from India as it happened to Sanjubhat.

This incident happened a couple of years ago.

Around 15 old college friends of mine decided to have a small reunion at a seaside beach resort around 60 Kms from Mumbai, India. The place is called Murud, famous for its pristine beach. A great place to chill out for a couple of days.

We had booked a seaside resort for the weekend and hoped that it would be great fun. I didn't want to miss the occasion because it was a rare occasion when we could get the entire gang together. We had decided to leave from Mumbai on Friday afternoon and reach Murud by evening. But as fate would have it something important came up and I couldn't join the others when they left in the afternoon.

It was decided that I would leave later in the evening and reach the resort at night. My friend Anand magnanimously volunteered to accompany me in the evening.

It was around 8.00pm when we were able to finish off my work and start off. The road leading to Murud is a very lonely one especially during night time and there is a very narrow stretch of road which is an accident prone area. We were initially apprehensive about driving along that path at night but finally giving caution to the winds decided to make journey anyways.

It would have normally taken us 3 1/2 hours to reach Murud. But driving in the night along narrow roads can be quite difficult especially at night and can increase the total time by up to 1 hour. We started out in Anand's 4X4 SUV rest assured that the potholes along the highway would pose no hindrance to us.

It was around 11. 30pm when we were on the lonely stretch of road around 40 Kms from our destination. A couple of minutes after joining the lonely road we saw a couple asking for a lift. Normally we wouldn't have stopped to give a lift to hitchhikers at such a late hour. But the couple looked like honeymooners who had come to spend some quiet time together after marriage. On closer inspection they seemed well spoken and safe enough to give a ride. The guy told us that they were staying at Kashid beach, around 10 kms from Murud. They were staying at a resort there and had been stranded for 2 hours. They had rented a bike for the evening but it had suffered a puncture. I could see a bike parked on the side of the road with a punctured tyre and so it made his story more believable. We asked them to hop in and told them that we would drop them off at their destination which was on the way. Along the way we found that both of them had a good sense of humour and we found that we got along quite well. They introduced themselves as Ravi and Sunita, married recently and had come over to Kashid beach resort for a honeymoon from Mumbai. Time passed by and the conversation grew lesser since all of us were quite tired. However our couple had made themselves comfortable in the backseat of our car and all we could hear were whispers from the back seat. Anand and I smiled silently at each other but said nothing.

Then something chilling happened which still gives me the creeps. Somewhere near Kashid, our vehicle suddenly came to a halt. I knew that we had a full tank of petrol and it wasn't the reason for this. Without looking back I got out of the car and opened the bonnet trying to figure out the reason for the sudden breakdown. I heard the guy Ravi call out asking whether I needed any help. I couldn't see him because of the open car bonnet. Surprisingly there was no word from Anand who was my co-passenger and would naturally have come out of the car to give me a hand. I called out to him and walked to the window. Anand was just sitting there sweating profusely. He looked at me and pointed to the back seat with trembling hands. What happened next is truly eerie.

I could still hear the couple in the back seat of the car whispering to each other, a couple of feet away from me, just the way when we were travelling but there was no one there now. Continuous whispering but only... Empty seats! My head started reeling and I thought that I would probably lose consciousness and faint. Gathering all my strength I opened the door, got Anand out of the car and we ran from there like our lives depended on it. When we were a couple of meters away from the car we heard a loud laugh in a man's voice and a wail in a woman's, coming from the car. After that there was eerie silence.

Fortunately for us there was a police station around half a kilometer from where our car broke down. We were badly shaken and on the verge of collapse. The cops on duty were very sympathetic to us but were not surprised on hearing our story. They told us that this wasn't the first occasion that such a thing had happened. It seems that some years back, a honeymooning couple who were stranded on the lonely road at night were brutally murdered. Their bike had developed a puncture and they tried to hitch a ride to their resort which happened to be at Kashid. They hitched a ride from the wrong people and eventually met their grievous end. The sightings had happened a couple of times earlier too.

We were told by the constables to spend the night at the police station. We immediately called up our worried friends and informed them about the incident. We also forbade them from driving down on that road as we did not want a repeat of the incident which happened to us. Anand and I spent an uncomfortable night at the police station. We couldn't believe that this had happened to us.

Next morning at around 6 am, the cops escorted us to our car which was now empty. A friend also arrived there shortly. We thanked the cops for their help and started back towards Mumbai without even bothering about the re-union plans. I was just happy that both Anand and I had escaped unscratched.

While driving down towards Mumbai, I sleepily glanced from the window where we had picked up the couple. I could not see the bike which we had seen last night but I definitely thought that I saw an old worn out rusty bike tyre lying on one side of the road. I might be wrong considering the state that I was in, after the previous night's ordeal.

I went to Kashid a year later. On the way we stopped at the police station and enquired whether any further sightings of the couple had been reported. We were happy to learn that there were none after our incident.

This next story comes from Chicago

Without a doubt, the most famous ghostly hitchhiker in the Chicago area is the young girl who has been connected to Resurrection Cemetery for a number of decades. She is chronicled in another portion of the website, having been dubbed Resurrection Mary over the years. There are other roaming spirits and restless ghosts in Chicagoland though.

One such spirit, a sort of "sister ghost" to Resurrection Mary, haunts the vicinity of Jewish Waldheim Cemetery, located at 1800 South Harlem Avenue in Chicago. This is perhaps one of the more peaceful and attractive of the city's downtown graveyards and is easily recognizable from the columns that are mounted at the front gates. They were once part of the old Cook County Building, which was demolished in 1908. This cemetery would most likely go quietly on through its existence if not for the tales of the "Flapper Ghost". While little background can be discovered about this spirit, it remains a fascinating story.

The story of the ghost states that she was a young Jewish girl who attended dances at the Melody Mill Ballroom, formerly on Des Plaines Avenue. She was said to be a very attractive brunette with bobbed hair and a dress right out of the Roaring 20's, hence the spirit's nickname of the "Flapper Ghost". This fetching phantom has been known to hitch rides on Des Plaines Avenue and most often has been seen near the cemetery gates. Some travelers passing the cemetery even claimed to see her entering a mausoleum that is located off Harlem Avenue.

Although recent sightings have been few, the ghost was most active in 1933, during the Century of Progress Exhibition, and again in 1973. In the years before World War II, she was often reported at the Melody Mill Ballroom, where she would dance with young men and often ask for a ride home. After they drove her to the cemetery, the girl would explain that she lived in the caretaker's house (since demolished) and then get out of the car. Often with her admirers in pursuit, she would then run out into the cemetery and vanish among the tombstones.

More sightings took place in 1973 and one report even occurred during the daylight hours. A family was visiting the cemetery one day and was startled to see a young woman dressed like a "flapper" walking toward a crypt, where she suddenly disappeared. The family hurried over to the spot, only to find no girl and nowhere to which she could have vanished so quickly.

Another strange sighting took place in 1979 when a police officer saw a beautiful girl walking near the ballroom on a rainy night. He asked her where she was going and she replied "home". He offered her a ride and she directed him to an apartment building near the cemetery entrance. After the girl got out of the car, she vanished near a covered doorway and the policeman, shocked, got out and went after her. He was sure that she could not have gotten into the building so quickly and was even more surprised to see no wet footprints on the dry sidewalk below the building's awning.

Since that time, sightings of the "Flapper" have been few, but we should take into account that she appeared often back in the 1930's and then didn't show up again with any frequency until the 1970's. Perhaps she is just waiting round and will soon come back for a return engagement!


Another phantom hitcher haunts the roadways near the Evergreen Cemetery in Evergreen Park, a Chicagoland community. For more than two decades, an attractive teenager has been roaming out beyond the confines of the cemetery in search of a ride. A number of drivers claim to have spotted her and in the 1980's a flurry of encounters occurred when motorists in the south and western suburbs reported picking up this young girl. She always asked them for a ride to a location in Evergreen Park and then mysteriously vanished from the vehicle at the cemetery.

According to the legends, she is the spirit of a child buried within the cemetery, but there is no real folklore to explain why she leaves her grave in search of travelers, nor what brings her to the suburbs and so far from home. She is what some would call the typical "vanishing hitchhiker" but there is one aspect to this ghost that sets her apart from the others. In addition to seeking rides in cars, she is resourceful enough to find other transportation when it suits her.

In recent years, encounters with this phantom have also taken place at a bus stop that is located directly across the street from the cemetery. Many have claimed to see a dark-haired young girl here who mysteriously vanishes. On occasion, she has also climbed aboard a few Chicago Transit Authority buses as well.

One evening, a young girl climbed aboard a bus and breezed right past the driver without paying the fare. She walked to the back portion of the vehicle and sat down, seemingly without a care in the world. Irritated the driver called out to her, but she didn't answer. Finally, he stood up and walked back toward where she was seating. She would either pay, he thought, or have to get off the bus! Not surprisingly though, before he could reach her, she vanished before his eyes!

According to reports, other shaken drivers have had the same eerie experience at this bus stop. He has spoken with others who have also seen this young girl and every single one of them have seen her disappear as if she had never been there in the first place!

Here's a little tale from Indiana, as it happened to Robin

At the time these incidents took place, I was around 45 years old. I had, by then, lived in many different houses in both the US and other countries. My family and I had never experienced anything like the things we experienced in the old green farmhouse in Indiana.

Let me start by saying that I'm an atheist and have been one since I was very young. My husband and I did not expose our children to church, but we did not forbid church for them. We left it up to them to decide for themselves when they were older.

In 2003, my family needed to move from the house where we were living. My boys loved their school and we didn't want to move very far. I had driven past an old, crooked green farmhouse just around the corner for years, and wondered if we could rent it. I contacted the owner and he showed me around. The house was in abysmal shape and needed a complete overhaul to be even liveable. I told him I was willing to do the work to fix it up and he agreed to apply the money we would spend on the house as rent. My husband was working long hours and my boys were in school, so I drove to the house every day and worked on it, tearing out plaster, redoing the kitchen and bathroom plumbing, putting down new floors, taking walls down, etc. I spent almost every weekday alone in the house and every weekend my husband and sons helped out with the heavy lifting and cleanup.

The renovations took about 4 months and nothing strange or unsettling happened during that time.

Then came the day when we could finally move in. It took most of the day but we finally got settled and I left my husband and youngest son, (I'll call him H), at the house while I drove to the school to pick up my 13 year old, (I'll call him J), from an after school activity. By the time we got close to home, it was full dark.

My son and I were chatting about school and his new room as we drove past the house to the driveway and I looked up into his bedroom window (we hadn't had time to put up curtains yet) and said "Uh oh, your brother is in your room." I could see the outline of a person at the window because he'd left his bedroom light on.

I didn't look at my watch, but it didn't take us more than a couple of minutes to park the van and walk in the front door. I was shocked when I saw my husband and H sitting in the living room watching television. I remember I asked H how he got downstairs so quickly and my husband said that they had both been sitting right where they were since I'd left to pick up J. I knew that there was no way for H to have crossed J's room, go down the hallway, down the stairs, through the dining room, across the living room and be sitting on the couch in the time it took us to park the van and walk the 10 feet to the front door. J and I told them what we had seen and my husband suggested that what I thought was a person at the window was more likely a branch of the huge weeping willow tree growing in the front yard.

That didn't seem possible to me so we all walked outside and into the street to the spot where the van had been when we saw the figure. It wasn't the willow tree and the figure was gone. We walked up and down the street over and over again, trying to line up a branch of the tree with the window and just couldn't do it. Finally, we shook our heads and went back into the house. I didn't really think all that much more about it.

A few months later, I wasn't feeling well and decided to go upstairs to my room and take a nap. I closed my bedroom door so my cat and dog wouldn't get in the room and wake me because I've always been a very light sleeper and I didn't want them to jump on the bed. I was just drifting off and felt something press down on the foot of the bed. I opened my eyes and sat up, thinking my cat had already been in the room when I closed the door, but she wasn't on the bed. I got up and searched under the bed and in the closet. She wasn't there. I went downstairs and asked my husband if he'd seen her and he told me that she had been sitting in the windowsill watching birds in the yard for at least half an hour and there was no way she was upstairs. I told myself that I was just dreaming about what I felt on the bed.

My son J had a very good friend who spent several nights at our house but I noticed one day that he hadn't been around in a while and asked J if they'd had a fight or something. J said that his friend wouldn't come to our house anymore. I asked why, and he said that the last time his friend had spent the night; he was alone in J's room watching TV on the bed (J had gone to the restroom). He said that he felt someone sit on the foot of the bed, but there was no one there. It scared him so much he refused to come to our house ever again.

I hadn't told J about what I had experienced in my bedroom. Very shortly after that, my son began begging us to let him go to church with one of his friends. I think what was happening in the house had really frightened him.

More time went by and we all began to hear footsteps on the stairs but there was no one there and footsteps upstairs when we were all downstairs. Nothing really scary, just things that made us say Huh?

Finally, about a month before we moved, I was walking across the kitchen when a bottle of my son's cologne literally flew across the room in front of me. My husband was in the living room and saw it also. That did scare me a little. We decided that it must have been my walking across the bouncy kitchen floors that knocked the bottle off, but it didn't just fall, it was more like it was thrown because it went straight across directly in front of me.

We now live in a different house and none of us have experienced anything similar. Other people are living in the old green farmhouse now and I want to stop by and ask them if they've noticed anything strange, but I don't know them personally and I don't really want to look like an idiot.

New York Haunted home, as told by Loushipps

It was the summer of 1992, about a year after my first paranormal experience. I was dating my girlfriend and eventual wife Terry, for several months. We decided that since I spent most of my time at her apartment, that it was time for me to move in. The house was a large, 1860's Federal-style brick residence. It was built by a pair of brothers who were leaving for the Civil War, and was created to provide a place for their sisters to live while they were away. Although the building was now split into four apartments, other than one small bedroom in the back of the building, three of the apartments were exclusively on the first floor. The original front door was converted to a private entrance, with a spiral staircase which now led to our spacious, second floor apartment.

I had been living there approximately a week, when one evening while searching for something on TV, Terry decided that she would go relax in a warm bath. The apartment from front to back, consisted of a living room separated by glass French doors from a dining room which led to the kitchen. As you entered the apartment from the staircase, the living room was on the right and a hallway extended left around the stair opening to two attached bedrooms, a bath, and also had a doorway into the dining room.

As Terry ran her bath, I laid down on the couch, which was positioned against the wall adjacent to the hallway and stairwell. She finished running the bath and went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I continued watching TV for approximately ten minutes, when from the hallway, I heard a door open. Presuming it was the bathroom door, I thought, "that was a shorter bath than normal for her". Shortly after I heard the door open, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Hearing the footsteps, I thought it strange that she had taken her shoes into the bathroom with her. The footsteps went the length of the hall and then could be heard on the stairs. When the sound reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door opened and then closed. "She must be checking the mail or getting something out of her car", I presumed. Ten minutes passed, then twenty minutes, and Terry did not return. Thinking she bumped into one of the neighbors and was talking, I went down the stairs to see what she was up to. She was not on the front porch and her car had not been moved. I called for her but she did not answer. I went up the stairs and upon reaching the top, noticed the bathroom door was closed. I walked to the door and opened it. Terry was laying in the tub listening to her walkman, oblivious to anything I had just experienced.

When she got out of the bath, we discussed what transpired and were somewhat unnerved. We went to bed shortly after and were lying in bed still talking about it when I started to feel a vibration in the bed. "Why is the bed moving?" I asked. The next thing I knew, the comforter we were under was thrown over my head. When I pulled it back, Terry was standing in the hallway peeking around the corner into the bedroom. "You can feel that?" she said, "I thought it was just me... It does it all the time".

"...all the time..." a whispered voice from the attached bedroom responded. I sat up and turned toward the adjacent room and then turned to Terry who was standing open mouthed in the doorway. Although her reaction already revealed the answer, "Did you hear that?" I gasped; her reply was interrupted by a loud hiss and me leaping from the bed in response to our panicked cat jumping on me and off the bed as it scrambled through the doorway Terry was standing in.

We lived in the apartment for seven more years after that night. We had several unexplainable experiences. A three foot long, antique bugle-like horn that we had hanging on the wall over the French doors in the dining room was found standing on end on the hardwood floor when we arrived home one day, a sharpening steel hanging on a peg in the kitchen would begin swinging and would not stop until you placed your hand on it, and our cat who had lived in the apartment for five years went missing one day. It had somehow knocked a screen out of one of the six-foot tall windows and had fallen two stories to the ground in a rain storm. The cat always slept on the foot-wide window sills so it was familiar with its surroundings. The screens had custom made wooden frames and would have taken all of the cat's strength, or the strength of some unknown force to dislodge the frame. The entire screen and frame fell outward to the ground. We found her the next day, disoriented but unharmed under a neighbor's porch.

I mentioned to Terry one day, many times I had sensed or seen out of the corner of my eye, a small child standing behind a rocking chair in the corner of the spare bedroom. I told her that whenever I would turn to look, it would be gone. She sat down and described the little boy in Amish-style clothing perfectly.

I began working at a restaurant when I started college in 1995. I met a girl at the restaurant who lived on the same street about a block from our home. When I told her where we lived, she replied, "Oh, you live in the haunted house". As it turns out, a friend of hers was one of the many downstairs tenants who had lived there during our stay. As she related it to me; her friend was in her apartment one evening, which was right below our living room and dining room, when she heard a baby begin to cry in our apartment overhead. The crying soon changed to the screaming of what she presumed was an inconsolable, sick child. She knew us well enough to know that we had no children. The wailing went on for the better part of an hour, until the girl got so upset at hearing the child cry, she decided to see if she could help us in some way. She exited her apartment and walked around to the front porch and knocked on our door. The crying immediately stopped. She knocked repeatedly and no one came to the door and no lights were on in our upstairs windows. She returned to her apartment and later witnessed us arriving home shortly after. Two hours later, she moved out of the building.

In 2000, I was chosen for a job I had applied for in Maine. We packed our belongings that we intended to take in our personal cars, and a moving company that my new employer had provided packed the rest for delivery to Maine. We lived amongst boxes and crates for a week leading up to moving day. I came home one afternoon and discovered broken glass all over the spare bedroom. The bedroom had a closet which was an abbreviated/converted staircase, which was two steps lower than the floor to the spare room. A few years before, we had set a mirror we had replaced from a large antique dresser in the back of the closet just to keep it out of the way until we could dispose of it. It weighed about eighty pounds and was leaning against the back wall with the bottom of the glass about eight inches from the wall. Something had pushed the four foot by three foot piece of glass away from the brick wall and shattered it against the spare room landing.

Regardless of this protest from our unseen roommates, we bid the house farewell two days later and never went back.

OK ....the hair is standing up on the back of my neck now... tynhrt tynhrt...
More please  ;D
Mcdee

Sanjubhat returns with another Ghostly tale from India

n early 2009, I changed my job and joined an Organization which had its Head Quarters in Bangalore (India). Though I was based out of Pune, I was called to Bangalore for an Induction session and meetings with the Company's Senior Management. The whole schedule was for around 5 days. After I reached Bangalore I found out that there were around eight others who had recently joined the Organization at the same time as me. We were all housed at the Company's guest house a short distance away from the office. The induction sessions were from 9.00 am in the morning to 5.30 pm in the evening. Past that all of us had a lot of free time on our hands and used it to get to know each other better.

For this particular story, I would like to mention the names of three colleagues out of the eight who were to play an important role in the incidents to follow.

I struck a great rapport with Ajay, Shailesh and Navin. It's not that I was unfriendly with the rest but I got along with these guys like a house on fire. Ajay was a Punjabi from Northern India, very talkative and always ready to take up a challenge. Shailesh was from Mumbai, quick witted but generally quiet. Navin was a resident of Bangalore whose personality was similar to Shailesh but he had a great sense of humor and his one liners kept us entertained all throughout. We had a great time together during this period and got to know each other really well.

During one of our conversations after dinner, Navin told us that there was a graveyard near to the guest house. Our housekeeper Sri had also told him of strange happenings there. The road leading to the graveyard was lonely and generally avoided by people especially at night. He had asked Navin to inform everyone not to venture out on that particular stretch. Ajay was a total non believer and scoffed at the very idea of ghosts and the paranormal. The rest of us were intrigued by this story and wanted to know more but Navin himself had limited knowledge. Sri wouldn't tell us anything more so we let the matter rest there.

Soon it was our final day in Bangalore. After the induction sessions were over, our seniors had arranged for a dinner at a nearby hotel. We had a great time and were treated to a lavish dinner. Ajay in particular enjoyed the most and had one drink too many. Once we were back at the guest house after dinner, all of us started packing our bags since we had to leave early the next morning. After packing our bags we sat down reminiscing the great time we had spent in the last couple of days. The topic of the old graveyard was again brought up by Navin. Seeing Ajay scoff again, he was a bit irritated and dared Ajay to go to the graveyard and spend an hour over there alone. Ajay was a bit high and in the spur of the moment immediately accepted the dare. He stood up and immediately began to walk out of the guest house. We tried to restrain him but to no avail. Being a teetotaler and in full control of my senses, I reluctantly decided to accompany him in his nocturnal adventure.

Ajay was in high spirits as we walked towards the graveyard. The road leading towards the same was very lonely without any signs of habitation. It must have been one km away from the guest house and it was 12. 30 am by the time we reached there. It was an old cemetery not used frequently by the locals. It somehow had an air of nostalgia about it. It was particularly cold that night since it was winter and nights in Bangalore in winter can be quite cold. We reached the gate and were stopped by an old man who introduced himself as the security guard, Abu Chacha. He suspiciously asked us the reason for coming there at such an unearthly hour. Ajay immediately jumped in and told Abu Chacha that one of his relatives was buried there and he had to visit him that night itself as he had come to Bangalore for a short visit and was to fly off to London the coming morning. Abu Chacha sympathized with us and told us to make it quick.

We slowly made our way inside the graveyard. It seemed like a normal cemetery. There was a cemented path in the center with graves lying on either sides of the road. There was eerie silence except for the occasional howling of the strays who roamed freely in the area around the cemetery. There was a bench at a short distance away. Ajay, still high told me that he wanted to sit there and spend a couple of minutes and enjoy the solitude. I was feeling uncomfortable but relented to Ajay's persistent request. We sat down and Ajay immediately put his hand in his pocket, taking out a cigarette. I tried to dissuade him against doing so as it would disturb the sanctity of the place. He was in no mood to listen and had his way. After spending a few more uncomfortable minutes on the bench, Ajay told me that he wanted to move further inside and check out the rest of the place. We had hardly walked a couple of paces ahead when he told me that he suddenly had this overwhelming urge to pee. I told him to immediately refrain from doing so and that it was high time that we left the place. But stubborn as he was, Ajay did not listen to my advice. Winking slyly at me, he went off to some nearby bushes a little away from the place where we were sitting, promising to return quickly. The bushes were thick and I could not see him at all from my current location. Suddenly I felt weak and found it very difficult to breathe as if someone was trying to squeeze the life out of me. I dropped to my knees on the road below. As my gaze turned ahead further down the road, I could see a shadowy form slowly move away from me. It seemed to stop for a moment as if to cast an eerie glance at me before slowly melting away into nothingness.

My head started spinning and a feeling of horror took over me affecting my ability to think clearly. With great difficulty I regained my composure and then it dawned on me that Ajay still hadn't returned. I called out to him but there was no response. I slowly made my way towards the bushes where Ajay had gone a short while ago. I was horrified by what I saw. Ajay was lying senseless on the ground. Not knowing what to expect I got down and shook him vigorously. This fortunately worked and Ajay slowly regained consciousness.

Once Ajay was full conscious he told me he heard some movement near the bushes where he was peeing and suddenly felt as if someone was standing behind him. He instantly experienced the same feeling of weakness and breathlessness as me. Before he could call out to me, he felt a stinging blow on his back which rendered him unconscious until the time I shook him awake. He was still feeling pain near the shoulder. (Later when I had a look at it, I saw a clear imprint of five fingers clearly visible on his upper back and the whole area had become blue due to the clotting of blood). Not wanting to spend another minute over there we proceeded towards the gate of the cemetery. We were suddenly stopped by a young man who asked us sternly as to what we were doing in the cemetery at such a late hour. We quickly told him that we had taken permission from the old man, Abu Chacha and also told us our ordeal. He was surprised at the mention of the name Abu Chacha and told us that no one except him had stood guard at the cemetery for the last 5 years. Some people had earlier told him of an old man being seen around the cemetery especially late in the evening. He had never come across Abu Chacha or whoever the old man was. This was too much for Ajay to bear and he fainted at the gate itself. We carried him slowly to the guard's cabin at the entrance after which I immediately called my colleagues to rush there with a vehicle and get us back to the guest house. It was close to 3.30am by the time we were at the guest house.

On relating the incident to our caretaker Sri, he cursed us for our folly and told us that we were very lucky to get away unharmed. Ajay was down with high fever for the next couple of days and had to stay back in Bangalore. Being a religious person, I promised myself never to be a part of such activities in future. When I met Ajay a couple of months later, I found that he had mellowed down quite a bit. He was also wearing a "Taaviz" (a locket) given to him by one of the priests at a temple in his hometown.

Here's a tale from the U.K. as told by Leia

When I was in year 3 (aged 7, 9 years ago) I used to be scared of going into my primary school toilets alone, this is because every time I was in there by myself I would see a young girl standing in the shower with the old St. Maries uniform on. She wore a grey school skirt, long white socks, black shoes, white polo shirt and a St. Maries Junior school jumper on. I tried ignoring her for about half a year, as I thought I was going mad because nobody else saw it, but she never moved. I spoke to my mum about it, I was so scared even though the young girl hadn't moved, and my mum told me to talk to the ghost, (I thought that was pretty silly because she never spoke) I did talk to her, and I asked her to leave me alone, but still no movement.

I spoke to a lunch lady about it and a girl a year above me, and the girl said that it was a curse called "Bloody Mary", this is where you stand in front of a mirror and say "Bloody Mary" three times and Mary Tudor would come out of the mirror at you with an Axe. It is obvious this is not true, but being as young as I was, I believed it, which made me become more scared than I already was.

I believed this continuously for the next year, until a close friend of mine passed away in year four, which I then found out that 5 years before another girl had passed away from the same school, I'm not too sure how, but my teacher told me that a young girl had also died 5 years ago. We made a memorial area in school for them both. All I know about the girl who had died first is her name, Hannah.

This whole scenario continued throughout my years at St. Maries, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was no longer confused, and was certain it was Hannah.

Another tale from India

This incident is not scary. But it throws open some questions for those who are doing research in this field and are keen to actually witness the hauntings. This took place in Maharashtra, India in a town of medium size.

There is a very old well near the campus of Agriculture College. It is at least 150 years old and still has some water but mostly unusable. The road that passes from around a few meters from the well is not in much use. Only students and sales staff for fertilizer companies nearby use that road. A friend of mine, who has taken up a rather low paying job of a travelling salesperson, was coming back to his hostel at around 1am. As he approached the well he saw a man of seventy plus, drawing water from the well and taking a bath. There was something unnatural about the man. The clothes lying near him were very old fashioned and one could make that out even in the dim moonlight. Also my friend was surprised to see someone taking bath as the water was too dirty and was not used. As he got closer to the well, the man disappeared and there were no traces of anyone taking a bath. But he felt no fear, nor did he get any uneasy or unnatural feeling near the well.

I believed my friend. He was not the type who would lie or imagine things. I asked around. This scene had been witnessed before as well but very rarely. A somewhat incoherent story that came out was like this.

In 1891 a very old women in her nineties died a natural death due to old age. Her son was seventy-four as in those days women used to marry before seventeen and generally gave birth to their first child in year or so. The son himself was not too well and suffered from asthma. In those days there was no relief medicines as such and it was a miracle that the man had managed to live for so long in the first place. He had not married and was devoted to his mother. He insisted he would do all the last rites at the time of cremation. He did that as well but while coming back from the cemetery his condition deteriorated.

In Hinduism all those who visit the cemetery are supposed to take bath before they enter the house. The son also wanted to do the same but his relatives did not allow him. He was taken home in a semi conscious state where he continued to insist that unless he takes a bath, the soul of his mother would not rest in peace. The man died in the morning and after that he was seen occasionally, near the well doing something, which he was not allowed to do at that time.

I was very keen to witness the scene myself. Walking down that road past mid night was not a problem at all because I stayed only half a mile away. So I tried walking past the well at odd hours. There was nothing scary about that road. It was lonely but a peaceful one. I did not see anything near the well during all those nights. Using whatever little I knew about astrology, I tried auspicious nights, inauspicious nights, full moon nights and nights with no moon. Generally these are the days when there is more activity and if you have the ability to "see" things then you can do that. Nothing worked. I tried being present for the cremations of the people I knew very remotely as long as it took place in the cemetery nearby. I then walked past the road on purpose but still no "luck".

I questioned my friend about that night. Did he do anything specific that he remembered, during that day or night? No. It was a very normal day he told me. He was late because he was tallying his monthly statements of sales and revenue. It took him time and hence he was coming late.

The family of priests that looked after the rituals have been doing that for last few generations. They had the date of the record since 1870 and could easily find the day when the old woman had died. The date was only two months away. I waited and tried on that night as well and did not see anything.

Some six months had passed now and the incident was fading away from my memory. I was on the verge of giving up. But before doing so I happened to come across my Guru to whom I briefly narrated the incident. He told me that I was looking at this from completely wrong angle. He did some calculations, gave me a date and told me to go near the well past midnight on that day. He also told me to throw few white flowers taken from a certain temple, two lemons, a tender coconut instrumented by mantra and told me to pray near the well for uplifting on the suffering souls. I did exactly that.

On the given date, I went near the well, and managed to see the haunting and it did not disappear when I went near it. I could very clearly see the man who looked very very ill. Each breath was difficult for him and the movement pouring water over his head from the bucket was making him almost breathless. He looked at me only once in a very vacant sort of way. I must say even then there was no fear. Not because of my courage but because I was indeed afraid but I think there was no evil as such in the haunting in the first place. I then turned to the well and did as I was told and then went ahead without looking back. I could hear a very soft rustling like sound in the background but did not know what it was.

I think the haunting stopped after that but I will not be able to say that for sure. I asked my Guru several times as to why I was wrong and what mistake I was doing. He just smiled and never told me that.

There was something that I was missing in this. Perhaps you all can figure out. At least I am stumped and for me it will be a mystery forever.

Great stories, Doc - thanks for going to the trouble of posting them!

I'm going to post a few stories based on incidents that occured in the house I grew up in.

DOPPLEGANGER or OUT-OF-BODY EXPERIENCE?
  This first one isn't about a ghost, but it's still a creepy event that happened to my oldest sister, Anna.  She was 15 or 16 years old at the time.  This particular night, my Dad drove her out to the country (about 10-12 miles away) where she was going to babysit for Sonny & Cher - seriously!  Sonny was my older cousin and Cherry was his wife!  Their last name was not Bono, however.  Dad dropped her off after agreeing that Sonny would bring her back home after he and Cherry returned from their night on the town.  Anna watched their baby for a couple of hours before tucking the little tyke into bed.   After an hour or so of tv, she settled in with a book, eventually dozing off.  She was awoken by Sonny, and still groggy from her napping, got into his car and they headed back to our house.  The next thing she knew, she was in her upstairs bedroom, in her nightgown and sitting at her mirror brushing her hair.  She heard the faint, but distinctive sound of a car pulling into our driveway, and she glanced at the clock - it was 3 a.m.  She then heard the sound of our front door being fumbled with, then being opened.  She stopped brushing her hair and just stared at her reflection in the mirror.  She then heard the sound of someone walking through the house downstairs...  But - her skin didn't really begin to crawl until she heard the door that lead to the upstairs...  open...  and then the familiar sound of footsteps, slowly walking up toward her bedroom.  It was at that moment when she became terrified!  She knew if she turned around to look, she would see HERSELF standing in the doorway!  She didn't think she could take it, so she closed her eyes tightly and dove into her bed.  Shaking and fearful, she huddled under her covers until eventually drifting off into a deep sleep.

Anna is 62 years old today and still firmly believes she must'ave had an out-of-body experience that night.  She does NOT believe she dreamed it and to this day, wonders what would'ave happened had she had the courage to turn around and look - at what was there, with her, in her room.

that's pretty creepy.....thanks for posting UP...and I hope you post some more interesting tales of the supernatural...

speaking of supernatural, who dont like Haunted Asylums?


While the majority of buildings at the Central State Hospital in Indianapolis, Indiana, have been demolished, the ghosts that once dwelled within refuse to die.

Central State Hospital began in as the Indiana Hospital for the Insane. The need for a state funded mental institution, or asylum, was a source of contention; there was an obvious need, but debate ranged over where the
funds would come from, and where the hospital would be place. This debate raged from 1827, until the doors opened in 1848. The Indiana Hospital for the Insane had five patients when it first opened, and consisted of only one building. In 1889 the name was changed to the Central Indiana Hospital for the Insane, and changed again in 1928 to Central State Hospital.

The Hospital slowly grew to over 5,000 patients, and several buildings on over 100 acres of land in Indianapolis. There were two nearly identical buildings to keep the male and female patients separated, a medical building for non-mental illnesses, and a chapel. They even had a bowling alley for patients. The Hospital also offered occupational therapies that included jobs for the patients such as working in a bakery, and tending to the grounds.

When the Hospital was first built, it treated the mentally ill from around the country, but as other institutions were built, the needs of Central State changed. Eventually they treated only patients in the areas surrounding Indianapolis, but this still included 38 separate counties. The state chose to demolish the majority of the Hospital's buildings in the 1970s, replacing them with newer buildings. The Hospital closed its doors for good in 1994. One original building that still stands is the Pathology Department, where the Indiana Medical History Museum is located.


Despite the name changes and additions, the purpose of the Hospital remained the same, to care for the mentally ill. Unfortunately treatment in those times was experimental and rudimentary at best. Women were often
subjected to horrific treatments for something as simple as depression, treatments included submersion in ice cold water baths, and lobotomies were common place. Given the horrific things people once faced there, it shouldn't be surprising that Central State Hospital has its share of ghosts.

Adding to the conditions faced by patients, was that the criminally insane were often housed with patients who had simple developmental disorders. When the criminally insane were first housed at Central State Hospital, they were often kept bound and restrained to their beds. It was rumored that a renovation during the 1950s uncovered several rooms with the restraint beds inside, or heavy chains hanging from the walls where patients were once kept. Sadly enough, it was common during the early years of psychiatry to use restraints to treat even common diseases such as schizophrenia. Former Hospital workers confirmed that some unruly patients were kept in these restraints.

People say that the empty lot where the main buildings once sat is the darkest place in the world, and that no matter how many lights are used, the area remains dark and heavy. Some believe it is the result of hundreds of deaths there, combined with th pain and suffering of former patients. Those who walk passed the empty lot are also said to hear the sound of wailing moans or the cries of former patients, and see strange shadows moving across the grass. There is also a tree where screams and moans are heard; in the 1940s, two patients fought, and one killed the other by beating him to death with a large rock. Some claim the patients themselves can also be seen, running through the field.

Another story told about Central State Hospital is the story of Alvin. Alvin was a patient at the hospital, who suddenly and abruptly vanished one day; he was there in the afternoon, but by bed check was gone. Despite a long and thorough search, he was never found. A few years later a female patient named Agnus started walking away during the day, and was always found sitting in the same place, near the basement where the severe cases were kept. Agnus eventually told a staff nurse that her friend Alvin was there, and she liked to go there to talk to him.


Thinking that the former patient may still be in the hospital, the staff leapt into action, ordering a full scale search of the basement. The search revealed nothing, until someone found an open crawl space; inside was
the body of Alvin. Oddly enough, the same story is told about a former Ohio mental institution, only the missing patient was a female, who was only found after renovations of the hospital.

If you travel passed the former Central State Hospital today, be wary of any sounds you may hear, or strange shadows moving in the distance.

Spook Light in Oklahoma

Bobbing and bouncing along a dirt road in northeast Oklahoma is the Hornet Spook Light a paranormal enigma for more than a century. Described most often as an orange ball of light, the orb travels from east to west along a four mile gravel road, long called the Devil's Promenade by area locals.



The Spook Light, often referred to as the Joplin Spook Light or the Tri-State Spook Light is actually in Oklahoma near the small town of Quapaw. However, it is most often seen from the east, which is why it has been "attached" to the tiny hamlet of Hornet, Missouri and the larger better known town of Joplin.



According to the legend, the spook light was first seen by Indians along the infamous Trail of Tears in 1836; however, the first "official" report occurred in 1881 in a publication called the Ozark Spook Light.

The ball of fire, described as varying from the size of a baseball to a basketball, dances and spins down the center of the road at high speeds, rising and hovering above the treetops, before it retreats and disappears. Others have said it sways from side to side, like a lantern being carried by some invisible force. In any event, the orange fire-like ball has reportedly been appearing nightly for well over a one hundred years. According to locals, the best time to view the spook light is between the hours of 10:00 p.m. and midnight and tends to shy away from large groups and loud sounds.



Though many paranormal and scientific investigators have studied the light, including the Army Corps of Engineers, no one has been able to provide a conclusive answer as to the origin of the light.



Many explanations have been presented over the years including escaping natural gas, reflecting car lights and billboards, and will-o'-the-wisps, a luminescence created by rotting organic matter. However, all of these explanations all fall short of being conclusive.



As to the theory of escaping natural gas, which is common in marshy areas, the Hornet Light is seemingly not affected by wind or by rain, and how would it self-ignite? The idea that it might be a will-o'-the-wisp is discounted, as this biological phenomena does not display the intensity of the ball of light seen along the Devil's Promenade. Explanations of headlights or billboards are easily discarded, as the light was seen years before automobiles or billboards were made, and before a road even existed in the area.


 





One possible explanation that is not as easily discounted, but not yet proven conclusive, is that the lights are electrical atmospheric charges. In areas where rocks, deep below the earth's surface, are shifting and grinding, an electrical charge can be created. This area, lying on a fault line running east from New Madrid, Missouri, westward to Oklahoma was the site of four earthquakes during the eighteenth century. These types of electrical fields are most commonly associated with earthquakes.

Other interesting legends also abound about the light that provide a more ghostly explanation. The oldest is the story of a Quapaw Indian maiden who fell in love with a young brave. However, her father would not allow her to marry the man as he did not have a large enough dowry. The pair eloped but were soon pursued by a party of warriors. According to the legend, when the couple was close to being apprehended, they joined hands above the Spring River and leaped to their deaths. It was shortly after this event, that the light began to appear and was attributed to the spirits of the young lovers.

Another legend tells of a miner whose cabin was attacked by Indians while he was away. Upon his return, he found his wife and children missing and is said to continue looking for them along the old road, searching with his lantern.



Others say the Spook Light is the ghost of an Osage Indian chief who was decapitated in the area and continues to search for his lost head, with a lantern held high in his hand.

Sightings of the Spook Light are common, sometimes even reported to be seen inside vehicles. A few people, who have been walking along the road at night, have even claimed to have felt the heat of the ball as it passed near them.



Reportedly, the moving anomaly, growing brighter and dimmer, larger and smaller, can be seen approximately twelve miles southwest of Joplin, Missouri. To get to Devil's Promenade Road, take Interstate 44 west from Joplin but before you reach the Oklahoma border, take the next to the last Missouri exit onto Star Route 43. Traveling south for about four miles, you will reach a crossroads which is Devil's Promenade Road.

Suicide Bridge on Route 66

The majestic 1913 Colorado Street Bridge in Pasadena, California not only wowed early travelers crossing the causeway, but soon took on a more sinister note when people began to leap from the 150 foot bridge to their death. Within a decade of its construction, locals had begun to call it the "Suicide Bridge," and as you can imagine, legends began to abound that the bridge was haunted be those unfortunate souls.

The beautiful concrete bridge spans 1,467 feet across the Arroyo Seco, a deeply cut canyon linking the San Gabriel Mountains to the Los Angeles River, and containing the intermittent Arroyo Seco Stream for which it is named. The bridge is often incorrectly referred to as the "Arroyo Seco Bridge."




This vintage postcard of the Colorado Bridge incorrectly

refers to it as the "Arroyo Seco Bridge."

In Pasadena's early days, before the historic Colorado Street Bridge was built, crossing the Arroyo Seco was an extremely difficult task. Horses and wagons descended the steep eastern slope, crossed the stream over a smaller bridge, and then climbed up the west bank through Eagle Rock Pass.

The bridge was designed and built by the J.A.L. Waddell firm of Kansas City, Missouri and named for Colorado Street (now called Colorado Boulevard,) which was the major east-west thoroughfare through Pasadena. Known for its Beaux Arts arches, ornate lamp posts and railings, initial design proved difficult due to finding solid footing in the Arroyo bed. However, when engineer John Drake Mercereau conceived the idea of curving the bridge, he created a work of art.

The first tragedy on the bridge occurred before construction was even complete. Allegedly, when one of the bridge workers toppled over the side and plunged headfirst into a vat of wet concrete, his co-workers assumed he could not be saved in time and left his body in the quick-drying cement. His is only one of the many souls said to haunt the "Suicide Bridge."

The first suicide occurred on November 16, 1919 and was followed by a number of others, especially during the Great Depression. Over the years, it is estimated that more than 100 people took their lives leaping the 150 feet into the arroyo below. One of the more notable suicides was when a despondent mother threw her baby girl over the railing on May 1, 1937. She then followed her into the depths of the canyon. Though the mother died, her child miraculously survived. Evidently, her mother had inadvertently tossed her into some nearby trees, and she was later recovered from the thick branches.

By the 1980's the historic bridge had fallen into great disrepair as chunks of concrete began to fall from its ornate railings and arches. After the Loma Prieta earthquake near Oakland in 1989., the bridge was closed as a precautionary measure. Eventually federal, state and local funds provided some $27 million dollars in renovation costs and the bridge was reopened in 1993, complete with its original detail, plus a suicide prevention rail. Though the number of suicides throughout the years has decreased, the bridge continues to retain its nickname and its ghostly legends.



According to the tales, a number of spirits are said to wander the bridge itself as well as the arroyo below. Others have heard unexplained cries coming from the canyon. One report tells of spectral man that is often seen wandering the bridge who wears wire rimmed glasses. Other people have claimed to see a woman in a long flowing robe, who stands atop one of the parapets, before vanishing as she throws herself off the side.



In the arroyo below, phantom forms have been seen walking the river bed, a number of unexplainable sounds are often heard, and the atmosphere is often described as "thick."

Dude, are these Doc originals? If not, where did you find all of these?

Quote from: Opera Ghost on October 19, 2010, 02:56:01 PM
Dude, are these Doc originals? If not, where did you find all of these?

not mine, these are true tales as seen by those who wrote them...

some come from True Ghost Stories and some come from Ghostly Legends and Mysteries, others are googled..

that's why at the top of the story, I give credit to those who posted them...(that is if they leave a name)

The Weeping Woman, a Texas Ghost tale..

The legend of La Llorona (pronounced "LAH yoh ROH nah"), Spanish for the Weeping Woman, has been a part of Hispanic culture in the Southwest since the days of the conquistadores. The tall, thin spirit is said to be blessed with natural beauty and long flowing black hair. Wearing a white gown, she roams the rivers and creeks, wailing into the night and searching for children to drag, screaming to a watery grave.



No one really knows when the legend of La Llorona began or, from where it originated. Though the tales vary from source to source, the one common thread is that she is the spirit is of a doomed mother who drowned her children and now spends eternity searching for them in rivers and lakes.



La Llorona, christened "Maria", was born to a peasant family in a humble village. Her startling beauty captured the attention of both the rich and the poor men of the area. She was said to have spent her days in her humble peasant surroundings, but in the evenings, she would don her best white gown and thrill the men who admired her in the local fandangos.









The young men anxiously waited for her arrival and she reveled in the attention that she received. However, La Llorona had two small sons who made it difficult for her to spend her evenings out, and often, she left them alone while she cavorted with the gentlemen during the evenings. One day the two small boys were found drowned in the river. Some say they drowned through her neglect, but others say that they may have died by her own hand.

Another legend says that La Llorona was a caring woman full of life and love, who married a wealthy man who lavished her with gifts and attention. However, after she bore him two sons, he began to change, returning to a life of womanizing and alcohol, often leaving her for months at a time. He seemingly no longer cared for the beautiful Maria, even talking about leaving her to marry a woman of his own wealthy class. When he did return home, it was only to visit his children and the devastated Maria began to feel resentment toward the boys.
One evening, as Maria was strolling with her two children on a shady pathway near the river, her husband came by in a carriage with an elegant lady beside him. He stopped and spoke to his children, but ignored Maria, and then drove the carriage down the road without looking back.

After seeing this Maria went into a terrible rage, and turning against her children, she seized them and threw them into the river. As they disappeared down stream, she realized what she had done and ran down the bank to save them, but it was too late. Maria broke down into inconsolable grief, running down the streets screaming and wailing.

The beautiful La Llorona mourned them day and night. During this time, she would not eat and walked along the river in her white gown searching for her boys -- hoping they would come back to her. She cried endlessly as she roamed the riverbanks and her gown became soiled and torn. When she continued to refuse to eat, she grew thinner and appeared taller until she looked like a walking skeleton. Still a young woman, she finally died on the banks of the river.



Not long after her death, her restless spirit began to appear, walking the banks of the Santa Fe River when darkness fell. Her weeping and wailing became a curse of the night and people began to be afraid to go out after dark. She was said to have been seen drifting between the trees along the shoreline or floating on the current with her long white gown spread out upon the waters. On many a dark night people would see her walking along the riverbank and crying for her children. And so, they no longer spoke of her as Maria, but rather, La Llorona, the weeping woman. Children are warned not to go out in the dark, for La Llorona might snatch them, throwing them to their deaths in the flowing waters.



 





Though the legends vary, the apparition is said to act without hesitation or mercy. The tales of her cruelty depends on the version of the legend you hear. Some say that she kills indiscriminately, taking men, women, and children -- whoever is foolish enough to get close enough to her. Others say that she is very barbaric and kills only children, dragging them screaming to a watery grave.

When Patricio Lugan was a boy, he and his family saw her on a creek between Mora and Guadalupita, New Mexico. As the family was sitting outside talking, they saw a tall, thin woman walking along the creek. She then seemed to float over the water, started up the hill, and vanished. However, just moments later she reappeared much closer to them and then disappeared again. The family looked for footprints and finding none, had no doubt that the woman they had seen was La Llorona.



She has been seen along many rivers across the entire Southwest and the legend has become part of Hispanic culture everywhere. Part of the legend is that those who do not treat their families well will see her and she will teach them a lesson.

Another story involved a man by the name of Epifanio Garcia, who was an outspoken boy who often argued with his mother and his father. After a heated argument, Epifanio, along with his brothers, Carlos and Augustine decided to leave their ranch in Ojo de La Vaca to head toward the Villa Real de Santa Fe. However, when they were along their way, they were visited by a tall woman wearing a black tapelo and a black net over her face. Two of the boys were riding in the front of the wagon when the spirit appeared on the seat between them. She was silent and continued to sit there until Epifanio finally turned the horses around and headed back home, at which time she said "I will visit you again someday when you argue with your mother."

In Santa Fe, New Mexico, the tall wailing spirit has been seen repeatedly in the PERA Building (Public Employees Retirement Association), which is built on land that was once an old Spanish-Indian graveyard, and is near the Santa Fe River. Many people who have been employed there tell of hearing cries resounding through the halls and feeling unseen hands pushing them while on the stairways.

La Llorona has been heard at night wailing next to rivers by many and her wanderings have grown wider, following Hispanic people wherever they go. Her movements have been traced throughout the Southwest and as far north as Montana on the banks of the Yellowstone River.

The Hispanic people believe that the Weeping Woman will always be with them, following the many rivers looking for her children, and for this reason, many of them fear the dark and pass the legend from generation to generation.

The Hanging by Ambrose Bierce

An old man named Daniel Baker, living near Lebanon, Iowa, was suspected by his neighbors of having murdered a peddler who had obtained permission to pass the night at his house. This was in 1853, when peddling was more common in the Western country than it is now, and was attended with considerable danger. The peddler with his pack traversed the country by all manner of lonely roads, and was compelled to rely upon the country people for hospitality. This brought him into relation with queer characters, some of whom were not altogether scrupulous in their methods of making a living, murder being an acceptable means to that end. It occasionally occurred that a peddler with diminished pack and swollen purse would be traced to the lonely dwelling of some rough character and never could be traced beyond.




This was so in the case of "old man Baker," as he was always called. (Such names are given in the western "settlements" only to elderly persons who are not esteemed; to the general disrepute of social unworth is affixed the special reproach of age.) A peddler came to his house and none went away--that is all that anybody knew.

Seven years later the Rev. Mr. Cummings, a Baptist minister well known in that part of the country, was driving by Baker's farm one night. It was not very dark: there was a bit of moon somewhere above the light veil of mist that lay along the earth. Mr. Cummings, who was at all times a cheerful person, was whistling a tune, which he would occasionally interrupt to speak a word of friendly encouragement to his horse. As he came to a little bridge across a dry ravine he saw the figure of a man standing upon it, clearly outlined against the gray background of a misty forest. The man had something strapped on his back and carried a heavy stick-- obviously an itinerant peddler. His attitude had in it a suggestion of abstraction, like that of a sleepwalker. Mr. Cummings reined in his horse when he arrived in front of him, gave him a pleasant salutation and invited him to a seat in the vehicle--"if you are going my way," he added. The man raised his head, looked him full in the face, but neither answered nor made any further movement. The minister, with good-natured persistence, repeated his invitation. At this the man threw his right hand forward from his side and pointed downward as he stood on the extreme edge of the bridge. Mr. Cummings looked past him, over into the ravine, saw nothing unusual and withdrew his eyes to address the man again. He had disappeared. The horse, which all this time had been uncommonly restless, gave at the same moment a snort of terror and started to run away. Before he had regained control of the animal the minister was at the crest of the hill a hundred yards along. He looked back and saw the figure again, at the same place and in the same attitude as when he had first observed it. Then for the first time he was conscious of a sense of the supernatural and drove home as rapidly as his willing horse would go.

On arriving at home he related his adventure to his family, and early the next morning, accompanied by two neighbors, John White Corwell and Abner Raiser, returned to the spot. They found the body of old man Baker hanging by the neck from one of the beams of the bridge, immediately beneath the spot where the apparition had stood. A thick coating of dust, slightly dampened by the mist, covered the floor of the bridge, but the only footprints were those of Mr. Cummings' horse.

In taking down the body the men disturbed the loose, friable earth of the slope below it, disclosing human bones already nearly uncovered by the action of water and frost. They were identified as those of the lost peddler. At the double inquest the coroner's jury found that Daniel Baker died by his own hand while suffering from temporary insanity, and that Samuel Morritz was murdered by some person or persons to the jury unknown.

Haunted Luna Mansion in Los Lunos,New Mexico.

The Luna-Otero Mansion in Los Lunas, New Mexico is known for its great steaks, hot chili, and great deserts; but that's not all it's known for. Evidently, it's also renowned for its resident ghosts.



In 1692 Domingo de Luna was granted land by the King of Spain in what would later become Los Lunas, New Mexico . A few years later, Don Pedro Otero arrived under similar circumstances. Over the years, the two families added to their fortunes through livestock and additional land acquisitions. Both families became extremely powerful and were involved in politics. The marriages of Solomon Luna to Adelaida Otero, and Manuel A. Otero to Eloisa Luna in the late 1800's united these two families into what became known as the Luna-Otero Dynasty.

When the Santa Fe Railroad wanted a right-of-way through the Luna property in 1880, the proposed railroad tracks were planned directly through the Luna hacienda. In order to gain their right-of-way, the railroad agreed to build a new home for Antonio Jose Luna and his family according to their specifications. Before long, a southern colonial style mansion, built with adobe materials of the southwest was completed for the family. However, Antonio Jose died in 1881, the same year that the house was completed. As a result, his oldest son, Tranquilino and his family were the first to live in the luxurious home. When Tranquilino died in 1892, his younger brother Solomon took the reins of the empire and moved into the spacious mansion.

In the early 1900s control passed to Soloman's nephew, Eduardo Otero, because Soloman had not children. In the 1920s multiple improvements to the mansion were made, including the addition of a solarium, a front portico, and ironwork that surrounded the entire property. It was Eduardo's wife, Josefita, more familiarly known as "Pepe," that was largely responsible for these many efforts. The daughter of William R. Manderfield, founder of the Santa Fe New Mexican, Josefita lovingly spent her days caring for her magnificent gardens and improving her fine home.

Over the years the mansion changed hands several times before it was purchased and renovated as a fine dining establishment in the 1970s. It was then that the ghost of Josefita began to appear. Perhaps she didn't like the renovations or maybe she just wants to stick around to make sure they were doing a good job on the home that she had spent so many years looking after.



Dressed in 1920s period clothing, she has been described by employees as appearing very real. Most often she is seen in two former bedrooms on the second floor, an attic storeroom, and at the top of the stairs leading to the second floor bar.



At the top of the stairs sits an old rocking chair which she has often been seen sitting in and rocking slowly. On one occasion when an employee approached the ghostly apparition, she simply stood up then slowly vanished. More often she is seen walking up and down the stairs, a habit that has been so commonplace that employees barely notice anymore.

Where there's one spirit, others seem to follow and more ghostly apparitions have been seen at the mansion. One of these is was a former servant named Cruz, who was thought to have been a groundskeeper. Most often seen on the main level, he is said to be particularly friendly to women and children and likes to play practical jokes on the employees and patrons. On one occasion he was seen sitting on a sofa as if waiting to be served. Dressed in vintage attire, the man was relaxing patiently when a waitress asked another staff member why he hadn't been served. However, the response was "What man?" and when the waitress looked back to the sofa, the vintage spirit faded away.

Staff suggests that other spirits also roam this historic building.

Lechuza by Mike Cox

At night in South Texas, especially under a big moon, things start moving.

Deer begin grazing, coarse-haired feral hogs emerge from the brush to steal corn from game feeders on the big ranches, five-foot rattlesnakes slide from their lair, the sensors on their arrowhead-shaped heads looking for warm meat. And sometimes, an owl spreads its wide wings and flies from its roost looking for prey.

But some people along the border believe that owls are more than big-eyed night feeders. Among that group are three Zavala County women who vividly remember an experience they had one night on their way home from a shopping trip to San Antonio.

Just outside Batesville on State Highway 57, a large, dark and menacing bird suddenly appeared in the headlights of their car. The bird flew ahead of them faster than the vehicle, swinging back and forth and bobbing up and down.

The woman behind the wheel pressed her foot on the gas to outdistance the bird, which at one point circled back to fly right outside the driver's window. The bird seemed to be mocking the women, but this was no mockingbird.

That's when the car went dead. The lights went dark and the vehicle stalled, slowly losing speed. The driver managed to get the car off the roadway but could not restart it. The women locked themselves in the car, stuck out in the middle of nowhere. The bird, meanwhile, had disappeared.

As mysteriously as it had died, the car eventually restarted. Sure, it could have been a loose battery wire, or any number of easy-explainable mechanical things. But as far as these three women were concerned, the answer could be articulated in one word: lechuza.


Since Spanish colonial times, generations of children in South Texas and across the river in Mexico have grown up hearing stories of lechuzas. Despite that, an internet search shows that the tradition is mostly oral.

"A lot of people believe in lechuza," says Zavala County historian and newspaper columnist Richard G. Santos. Fascinated by stories like the one told by the three women whose shopping trip ended scarily, Santos has been collecting them for several years.

A couple who for obvious reasons did not want to be named told the Crystal City writer this story:

They were on State Highway 191, headed toward Eagle Pass, when their vehicle's windshield wipers suddenly came on.

"It must be a lechuza," said the woman's husband, who reached over and turned off the wipers.

As he did that, the headlights of their vehicle illuminated a big bird sitting on a telephone pole.

"It was big and it watched us as we drove by," one of them told Santos. "It was scary."

Indeed, lechuzas have been scaring people in Mexico and South Texas for a long time.

According to Santos, lechuzas are witches - brujas - who transform themselves into birds. In most stories, the bird is an owl, but sometimes a bruja will turn into an eagle.

Another school of thought holds that not all lechuzas are brujas. Some are merely the spirits of women annoyed for a specific reason, a faithless husband or a widower who has remarried.

Those frightened by the appearances of a lechuza can fall back on four basic remedies: Prayer, tying seven knots in a string or rope, engaging the services of a curandera or blasting the bird with a shotgun or rifle.

One man told Santos he had heard as a boy about a lechuza being shot. No one could find the dead bird, but the next morning, someone discovered the body of a very unattractive, mature woman hanging across a tree branch. Needless to say, many saw a connection between the killing of the lechuza and the corpse.

Santos, a serious historian who moved to Crystal City from San Antonio to care for his elderly parents, says he does not believe in ghosts or witches. But he definitely believes in stories of ghosts and witches.

He has found that lechuzas are particularly active in Zavala County.

A lechuza can appear at any time, but these feathery witches seem particularly prone to spread their wings and terrorize those who have popped a top or two or three. Cars moving down lonely highways also seem a favorite target of lechuzas.

Fortunately, as they say on the border, "Las lechuzas, por regular, no son peligrosas." They are not dangerous. Normally.

I'm bumping this, cause it's on the second page....wth?

is there no other members who have Ghost Stories to tell?....where's yer Halloween spirit?

Not a Ghost Story, but still an interesting tale of "Wolf Girl" by Mike Cox

When the boy returned home that day he told his parents a story as horrifying as it was unbelievable.


He had gone to San Felipe Springs, north of what is now Del Rio, to tend to his family's goat herd. He said he arrived in time to find a pack of wolves attacking the terrified stock. Among the wolves, he continued, was a strange creature. Though running on all fours like the other wolves, it appeared to be a naked girl.

The beautiful Devil's River, which flows 94 miles from Sutton to Val Verde County, belongs to Texas. But the story of the Devil's River wolf girl belongs to the world.

The tale had become part of border country folklore even before the river got its modern name in September 1848. That happened when former Texas Ranger Capt. Jack Hays and a party of men hoping to blaze a wagon road from San Antonio to El Paso rode up on the stream. Looking down on it from a bluff in the middle of nowhere, Hays listened as his guide told him they had reached the San Pedro River.

"Saint Peter's, hell," Hays supposedly spat. "It looks like the devil's river to me."

Thirteen years earlier, in 1835, an Englishman named John Dent and his pregnant wife Mollie Pertul Dent came to the San Pedro-Devil's River and built a crude shelter. Originally from Georgia, the couple had come to that remote area so Dent could trap beaver along the Devil's River north of present Del Rio. They camped near what would become Juno at a spot on the river he named Beaver Lake.
All went well until one night during a thunderstorm that May when Mollie went into labor. When it became evident that she was having problems, Dent saddled up to ride to the home of a Mexican goat herder to get help for his wife.

After explaining the situation, Dent was struck by lighting and killed. The goat herder and perhaps others rode to the lake, only to find Mollie dead. She clearly had managed to deliver her baby, but it was nowhere to be seen. Noting wolf tracks all around the campsite, the Mexicans concluded a wolf had devoured the newborn.

A decade later, the story goes, people began to see a naked girl running with wolves. Though the boy who reported the first sighting was not believed, a couple of years later, a Mexican woman said she had seen two large wolves and a naked girl ripping into the carcass of a freshly killed goat. As she near the creatures, she said, they ran off. At first, the girl traveled on her hands and legs, but eventually got up on her legs to keep up with the fleeing wolves.

Soon, others claimed to have seen the wolf girl. At some point, no dates go with this part of the story, a group of vaqueros rode out and managed to capture the wolf girl in a canyon.

The vaqueros took her to a nearby ranch and offered her food, water and clothing – all of which she rejected. Locked in a room, she howled pitifully. Before long, other wolves answered her calls. And the howling kept getting closer and closer. Finally, a pack of wolves closed in on the ranch owner's corralled livestock. As the vaqueros shouted and shot to drive off the attacking lobos, the wolf girl broke out of captivity and disappeared into the night with the other animals.

The next morning the vaqueros mounted up again in search of the wolf girl, but their effort proved fruitless. Her last reporting sighting came in 1852.

Screaming Bridge/Maud Hughes Road

Screaming Bridge -- on Maud-Hughes Road between Princeton and Millikin roads in Liberty Township -- is alleged to have been the site of several deadly and mysterious tales, too numerous to recount here. The bridge spans a railroad mainline that has had several names since the 1870s -- the Short Line, Big Four, New York Central, Penn Central, Conrail and, after June 1, 1999, the Norfolk Southern. No one knows when it was first called the screaming bridge. The unofficial name may have become popular because it sounded like someone screaming when a vehicle passed over the original span, which had grooves in its floor. Others contend the screams are those of people who have died on or near the bridge. The historical basis for the name goes back to a railroad accident in which two men were scalded to death when a locomotive exploded between West Chester and Gano. Strangely, that accident was in West Chester Township (formerly Union Township). The screaming bridge is in Liberty Township. There is no explanation for the discrepancy. Some visitors to the bridge -- especially when the area was less populated -- said they saw ghostly figures beside the road and glowing red balls of light off the roadway.

Another undocumented explanation of the lights is that they are on the caboose of a phantom train. After the 1909 explosion, members of train crews passing the area and residents along the tracks reported seeing the ghost of one or more dead trainmen walking beside the railroad. They appeared to be warning of the dangers lurking on the line.

The 1909 accident killed two engineers and injured three other railroad workers on a northbound Big Four freight Sunday morning, Oct. 24, 1909. One of the dead engineers was off duty, hitching a ride back home to Middletown. While traveling about 40 miles an hour, a steam locomotive exploded. The tender had been loaded with plenty of water before it left Ivorydale in Cincinnati. Unknown to the crew, after a run of only about 11 to 12 miles, a leak had drained much of the water, causing the explosion. The 1909 accident wasn't the only railroad fatality along that stretch of track. June 7, 1976 -- at the Princeton Road overpass in Liberty Township -- a Penn Central employee, a resident of West Chester, was killed when two rails protruding from a southbound work train penetrated the cab of a northbound Penn Central diesel locomotive.

The Curse of Sarah Jane

During the American Civil War, there was a road in Texas between Groves and Port Neches. A woman named Sarah Jane lived on this road. Her husband was away, fighting in the war as a confederate soldier. When enemy soldiers were passing through the area, Sarah Jane feared that they would kill her and her baby.

She went down to the river and placed her small infant in a wicker basket. Then Sarah hid the baby under the bridge, to protect the child. Sarah made her way back down the road to her home and waited for the Union soldiers to arrive.

After the soldiers passed by, she went back to the bridge to retrieve her baby. Unfortunately, the baby was nowhere to be found. The tide had risen and carried the baby away downstream.

Sara Jane searched through the night down the banks of the Neches River for hours in hopes of finding her baby safe and sound. Neighbors could hear Sarah Jane's screams as she searched, and she kept running up to people, weeping pitifully and asking "Have you seen my baby?".

Grief-striken and unable to find her child, Sarah Jane walked back to the bridge and hung from from the wooden beams beneath it. When people found her body, they saw a message scratched into the wood under the bridge that read "Where Is My Baby".

As the story goes, if you go out to Sara Jane Road at night and stand by the water's edge, you can still hear Sarah Jane's baby crying off in the distance. Some people claim they've spotted a noose hanging beneath the bridge. Others say they've also seen Sarah Jane's ghost searching along the side of the river for the infant child she lost so many years ago.

Locals say you can stand in the middle of the bridge on a dark night, and call for the ghost of Sarah Jane to appear. You have to repeat seven times "I've got your baby Sarah Jane".

The woman in black from down under

his story is about a recent murder, a visitation from a spirit of the women whose profile fits the description and a bizarre vision of the evil act that possibly surrounded her death. Also an unbelievable experience shared by my son and I, involving what I believe was a residual replay involving the car that carried her mutilated body to a sacred aboriginal site right before our eyes and then disappeared into thin air in broad daylight. It also involves an aboriginal psychic that led the police to the location where her body was eventually discovered.

But first I need to go back to the start, I'd recently posted my story August Soul Mates 3 and during that experience with my mother, there were other paranormal things going on at the same time. Including some visions and dreams in regards to a friend of mine and a difficult time she was going through, in relations to an unfortunate loss and personal family matters. Later on my friend had confirmed what I'd saw and validated that experience for me. My wife too, at that time had felt the urgencies in our home. A few months ago as I was going to work, she saw a shadow follow me out the door and it wasn't mine. She was at that time a little unsettled and I have been reassuring her not to worry, on most occasions I try to keep my experiences to myself and not alarm my family, especially the ones that may be hard to explain.

One night as I was resting on my bed, I had rolled over from my right side to my left and standing inside my room probably about 2 or 3 feet away, was a woman all dressed in black. With trousers or jeans on, with a shirt and jacket her hair was black and medium long. She was in full body, not an apparition as such. She was just staring straight at me, the room was dark her face was not so clear, but I knew instantly she was not a family member. I remember looking at her and I guess what had surprised me, was the fact that she was not startled or moving away from me. She was waiting for me to initiate a conversation; unfortunately I'd lost sight of her and was unable to connect for the purpose of that visit. I had no idea who she was or what she wanted then? But I believe now, that she was the murdered ghost of a woman that has been missing since June and later found at a reserve not far away from where I live. Now my memory of when I saw her is a bit vague, but I believe it was around June or July? At that time, every night the paranormal activity in my home was crazy. To a point where I thought I was digging in too far, as at that time I was seeking to help a friend and had some unusual experiences in the process.

One night as I was astral projecting myself or experiencing a projected dream field? I had left my body and travelled to another country. Most of my out of body experiences are confined to my house. But on this occasion I'd found myself travelling across the universe to another place far away. I had come across a man sitting at a table; he looked at me and gave me an evil stare... He seemed a little surprised that I was there. His face started to change in demonic fashion, instinctively as crazy as this sounds I'd started walking straight toward him. Refusing to succumb to fear or to the nature of what was going on and what he was trying to achieve. This is not the first time in astral flight or dreams have I come across a nasty being and any sign of weakness is an invitation for them to enter your mind. I am no hero and excuse me for being a little self-patronizing, but I want others especially children to understand, that they can't enter your mind or destroy your world if you don't fear them. Without your fear they are powerless to hurt you. Before I had returned to my body I saw what I can only describe as three witches levitating of the ground. I am not suggesting they were evil, but I do believe they were connected in some way to my friend and her circumstances. I cannot rule out the possibility that this experience was only a dream, as I have come to acknowledge over the years that not everything presents itself as clear as what you interpret or remember; now getting back to the story.

I know over at Facebook back then in a chat room with a few friends, I had posted a question if anyone knew of a woman all dressed in black with medium long black hair? Another night as I just went to sleep maybe 4 seconds in to a dream state, I had a vision that just seem to come from nowhere and present itself to me. This woman who had long black hair appeared right before my eyes, she pulled a knife up above her head and in a blink of an eye and she ran it straight through my chest. I could feel the knife go through my chest and I mean physically feel it. My muscles had contracted and I could feel the pain for maybe a few long seconds and for some time as I was waking up to a conscious state. The suddenness of this vision jolted me out of the semi dream state. This is the first time I have shared that experience and this experience is an example of what I try to keep away from my family. As I know sometimes our mind can plays tricks on us and I thought? Perhaps it was my imagination. I know privately I'd mentioned to my friend that I would withdraw my focus on her experience, as I had thought the connection of being stabbed had something to do with my friend's experience or from too much psychic activity or even an overactive imagination. I am totally aware of how powerful our minds can be and often distribute advice at your ghost stories with this in mind.

I could relay dozens of experiences like this over here, like the previous paragraph about the three witches and demonic man. But I have decided to only submit stories that are mostly different to the ones I have already wrote! I believe this vision of being stabbed was a past premonition or perhaps the vicious nature of the crime that she fell victim too. It was a very unpleasant experience that kind of shocked me to some degree. After 45 years of running around the block, you kind of think that you have experience most of the mystery's that life can bestow, but I guess this is the first time I have been through a paranormal experience with such vicious circumstances. Maybe some years ago it may have really unsettled my nerve, I know I have said this before and I'll say it again, I will not fear my paranormal experiences I am more afraid of the living.

GHOST CAR... This experience was amazing and absolutely connected to the women in black. My son and I decided to go training at a park adjacent to an aboriginal sacred site; it is about a 10 minute drive from where we live. Keep in mind at this point we had no idea that in this area, the torso of a woman's body was dumped in a creek adjacent to the park and it was an aboriginal elder that tipped of the police to the possibility of finding a body down there due to a gut feeling. At this time there was a six year old girl missing and police pursued with the lead. Now here's what went down, as we drove under the bridge and into the park we had noticed this car behind us, we were the only two cars driving in at the time. There was another vehicle already parked and a red car dumped nearby with no rego plates on it. Now as I got out of our car, I saw this mobile car, which was a white Holden commodore sedan. In it was a man and women driving slowly very close to the edge of the reserve on the bike and walkway track, it did seem a little strange and quite odd to be where it was. The last time I saw the car it was probably 3 or 4 car lengths in front of ours and heading in the direction at the back of the toilets, maybe 15 meters passed.

As I turned my head around toward the park my son had now got himself out of the car and headed to his back seat to grab his drink and towel. He saw the car and saw the women in the passenger seat just glazing in the direction in front, as he bent in the back to grabbed his towel and keep in mind that he was very conscious of where the car was and standing toward the only way in or out! So basically he never really turned his back at all, when he pulled himself back out of the car, which was only a couple of seconds later "he said". With a very surprised tone, hey dad where did that car go? From the last time I saw the car to the point of him saying hey dad, it could have not been longer than ten seconds... Keep in mind for about 5 seconds of them my son had vision of the car and had the prolific side vision of anything turning around. He only lost sight himself for maybe 5 seconds tops? When he said" hey dad" where's that car? I turned around and pointed confidently with my own geographical bearings of where the car was and said; it went behind the toilets...Suddenly! I was just as surprised as my son... Quickly I'd realized that there was a barricade at the back of the toilet and no way possible for a car to get pass, so immediately I'd look toward the bridge we drove under. Which were about 200 metres back and I saw nothing. It is the only way in or out, very open and nothing at all to obscure our view, at this point this whole experience could have not been any longer than 15 seconds and even that may be longer than it was...

We are both convinced that due to the short time we turned our heads and that's if we did at the same time, there was no way it could have doubled back, it just vanished. We examined all possibilities for about 20 minutes, tracing over our steps and timing how long it would take to reverse or turn around etc., and at best that I could manage and that was driving pretty quick in reverse a car would have needed 45 seconds to make it back to the bridge and disappear out of our view. Another thing to note there was no noise, we heard nothing but when we had re-enacted the car turning around there was a reasonable amount of noise. There is no doubt in my mind that the car disappeared, it would have been impossible to turn around and get passed us that quick and especially with no tyre noise as there is some gravel in the location and on top of that, no prolific vision of it going back at all.

The only place the car could have gone in a few seconds was in the creek, which was still impossible to do, as the reserve has thick bush and shrub on the edge of the walkway and furthermore there would have been some substantial noise. I had decided to investigate up and down the edge, looking into a swamp like creek, looking for something that I knew I couldn't find and all this time unbeknown to me, somewhere in that creek a woman's torso was recently discovered... Coincidently by an aboriginal elder who had sensed that there was a body there and informed the police. We decided to continue with our plans, but as my son pointed out to me later, I did keep on going back to the creek in intervals looking in each general direction.

I believe its possible what was shown to us was the actual murder taking place, I remember walking to the edge of the reserve and glancing toward the creek. I can't say I was picking up on anything I was more wondering if the car was in the creek... As that would be the only logical place it could go in a short space of time. But there was nothing there; It was a bit eerie to think that I was probably standing only metres away from where the girl in black was discovered.

When we got home such was the circumstances of the experience, my whole family was informed about what happened and to the contrary of keeping things to myself... We all were mystified to the nature of what happened. My youngest son goggled up on the net and discovered a recent news clip of a woman who's Torso had been discovered in the creek where we saw the car disappear; the date of this news clip was the 13th August coincidently the day my mother died in 2009? I felt that what we saw had something to do with this murder and decided to contact the police and forward what we saw and what I had felt, I sent an email stating I'd believed that a woman and man where involved? Based on the fact that we saw a man and women in the car... I found out a short time later, that a women and man have been charged with the alleged murder of this unfortunate woman.

When I eventually saw the latest bulletin in regards to the murder, I was in shock when I saw a picture of the women who was murdered; she had long black hair and was dressed in black. I believe it was the same women I saw standing in my room some 2 months prior. I cannot be 100 per cent sure it was her, but her profiled was remarkably similar. I was considering trying to contact her family, but have been advised not to at the risk of being ridiculed by our local community. My son and I have been back over a couple of times replaying our movements, just in case we'd missed something. But we keep coming back to the fact that the car just vanished. I think it's fair to say, if I were reading this story from another author, I too would find it hard to believe. Our minds can play tricks on us, but for both of us to see the same unexplainable event, rules out any type of delusional status, I welcome your thoughts.

Just came across this link...

http://www.trueghoststories.co.uk/ (http://www.trueghoststories.co.uk/)

I recognize that site  :D