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True stories of the weird, supernatural, ghostly and bizarre!


As a youngster growing up in Frederick, Maryland I had heard the wild tales about a strange creature called the "Snalligaster" (among other names). I had read newspaper articles about it attacking people's pets and farm animals at night. The unique thing about it, as described in many accounts, was it's piercing scream, like a woman's scream.

My uncle Red and aunt Marie lived near Gamgrill State Park on a small country road called Shookstown Road. When we visited, my brothers and I would head for the woods in back of their house. We had hacked out quite a network of paths through the laurel and underbrush and built forts from tree limbs. We used to play there for hours, sometimes all day.

It was now many years later, and I had grown up. I was visiting one weekend and, remembering those fun times in the woods, I decided to return there to see if any of the old paths still existed. It was unusually quiet that day- no birds, no squirrels. The old paths were overgrown, making passage difficult, but I eventually found the "main path" which, amazingly, was relatively clear.

I casually made my way up the path toward a familiar mound of rocks at the far end. As I approached, a blood curdling scream froze me in my tracks. Just off to my left, about ten feet away under some laurel, was the strangest creature I had ever seen. It was crouched low with it's head near the ground staring at me. It was about the size of a deer but with no similarity whatsoever. To begin with, it's limbs were out to side, more like monkey arms and legs, than straight down like a four legged animal. It was not covered with fur but coarse black hair, again, like a monkey. The head was triangular shaped, narrowing at the mouth which displayed large pointed teeth. There was no protruding snout that a dog would have. It's face was flattened like a human's, with no prominent nose. I don't remember seeing any prominent ears either. The most striking feature however, were the eyes. They were huge, like a lemur.

It slowly crouched back like it was preparing to lunge at me. I remained motionless. Then suddenly it turned and took off like greased lightning, disappearing in a matter of seconds. The way it ran was also unusual. It ran with it's limbs straight out from the body rather than straight down like a deer, and it's movements were more like someone scaling a ladder than a trot or gallop.

When it left, so did I, and in record speed I might add. When I returned to house, I told everyone what I had experienced; but as expected, no one believed me. So I just quietly went into the bathroom and checked my underwear. I was good.

Submitted by Vitruvius Roketansky

This story happened a long time ago when I first started my job. I had graduated from college and was sent to a remote village in my country. It was so remote , you could still see wild boars, monkeys, bats and little poisonous frogs from the jungles and swamps there.
There was no accommodation except for an old house near a swamp. It was an old abandoned house, built during the British Occupation. I thought I was alone but I was greeted by another four young ladies like myself who had come earlier. We introduced ourselves and I got to know their names as Rose, Miriam, Nora and Sammie. As I stepped into the house, little did I know that my life would never be the same again.
There were four rooms in the house so I had to share a room with Miriam. On our first night in the house, we had dinner together and then went to our rooms. At around 12.30 am that night, I was awakened by noises from the kitchen. The noises sounded like people cooking, cutting, chopping and pounding. I woke Miriam up and we went to check the noise but there was nobody in the kitchen. So we went to our room and locked ourselves in. The next day, to our horror, all of us awoke to find that we had slept in the front yard, amongst the tall dewy weeds.
"Did we sleepwalk last night? All of us?", we asked ourselves.
When we checked the front door, it was still locked from inside. We had to call a locksmith to pry the door open. Somebody or something had moved us outside last night.
"Someone doesn't want us to stay in this house!", squealed Sammie.
Well, we stayed on because we had no other choice. We had to endure all that happened next, in that house. Every night, exactly at 8.00 pm, we will hear noises outside. It sounded like horses galloping round and round the house. When I tried to record the noise with my tape recorder, it stopped abruptly and when I quickly opened the windows, there was nothing. We asked the villagers about it and they told us that the sounds were made by the creature called "Jembalang" (pronounced Jem-bar-lung), a man with legs of a goat from the waist downwards. Whatever 'it' was, 'it' never failed to make 'its' nightly rounds. 'It' had never harmed any of us, though.
The house had no proper irrigation drains so all the waste water goes into the swamp behind the house. On one night, after a long exhausting day, I fell asleep on the mat. I was awakened when I heard somebody calling my name continuously.
"ZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZuraZura..." , the little voice called.
I quickly got up to see who was calling me .Then suddenly the voice changed into high-pitched shrieks.
Eeeeeeeeiiiiiiheeheeheehee", it shrieked insanely.
It came from the swamp. This went on for ten minutes and all of us huddled on to each other in fear. The voice sounded unearthly, I cannot compare it with anything I have heard before.
"It is just a bird." Rose tried to console us.
"What kind of bird sounds like an insane woman ?", asked Miriam.
It seemed that one of us had her menstrual period, so while bathing, the blood flowed to the swamp which we assumed had caused the commotion there. The villagers called the creature ,"Langsuir" (pronounced Lung-sue-ir). It is a cross between a vampire and a banshee. This incident happened only once because the next time, we tried to be careful. However, 'it' often called us by name, now and again, in 'its' little childlike voice. One night, while I was watching T.V, suddenly I remembered that I hadn't locked the front door. I went to lock it and as I was turning the key, 'it' called my name.
"Zuraaaaaaaaaaa..", ' it' cackled just outside the door.
I ran to my room and asked Miriam if she had called my name but she said she had not.
Our nights were disturbed by sounds of people cooking, chopping, cutting, pounding and slaughtering (animals ?). Sometimes the noise came from outside the house and sometimes from the kitchen but when we went to check it, there was only darkness. Every day we went to work feeling tired and grumpy. During the night, sometimes we accidentally awoke to see a lady standing at the end of our beds, watching us. One moment she was there and the next, she was gone. Once, I had pretended to be asleep, she came to my side and stroked my hand. Then she flipped it. Flip! Flip! Flip! I shut my eyes tightly and tried to stifle my screams. One night, she went overboard when she went to Miriam, who was sleeping and encircled her cold, clammy fingers around Miriam's neck and squeezed. Miriam screamed and fought back. Then the lady vanished. From that night onwards, Miriam and I shared the same bed.
Then something happened to Sammie. Sammie, who had big beautiful eyes and long curly hair which came down to her waist. She was beautiful and talkative but she was also faint-hearted. She was not strong inside, so she became the target of the entities in the house. One night, we heard Sammie screaming so we ran to her room. She had a bout of hysteria and was thrashing herself on the floor. All of us, tried to calm her down and Nora gave her our version of holy water but she flung it away. Her big eyes stared widely at us as though she wanted to devour us. We recited some holy verses and she fell asleep. When she woke up, she did not remember what had happened that night. All she remembered was that she saw three ladies, floating near the wire-mesh on top of her door. They were trying to get into her room.
"They wanted me to be their sister." , cried Sammie.
She said she tried to ward them off and then darkness overwhelmed her. This incident was just the beginning of the end for poor Sammie. One night, we were having dinner of some curried vegetables and rice. Sammie was eating hers when all of a sudden, the curry turned into maggots, her plate, her spoon and her mouth were filled with live squirming maggots. Sammie screamed and big red blotches surfaced on her face, hands, legs and body. We rushed her to a hospital in a town,which was a long way off.
"We must get out of this house!", shouted Nora.
We told our predicament to the manager of our workplace and he said that they had planned to build proper living quarters for us. They will start building it as soon as possible. Meanwhile, we were on the edge of our sanity, trying to cope with the incidents that happened in that house. If only the new house could be built earlier and if only we had gotten out of that hell house, this tragedy would not have happened. We will regret this for the rest of our lives.
After a few weeks, Sammie recovered and came back here. One evening, all of us were walking back from our place of work. Sammie was her usual self and was chattering happily. Suddenly, she became silent, her face changed and her eyes searched fearfully around her.
"What is this place? Where am I? This is not the way home! What is this place? Girls, where are you? You're scaring me." , Sammie screamed horrifically.
We were shocked because this was, the way back home and we were walking beside her. We held her and she screamed hysterically. She struggled as we brought her back, yes, to the house which was indeed a terrible mistake. All the way, she screamed and struggled. We did not know what to do except to recite holy verses until she fell asleep. We laid her on her bed and sat around her, all the while, reciting holy verses. Suddenly the lights went off, there was a power failure. Rose quickly groped for candles and matches in a drawer. She lighted a few candles and put them around Sammie's bed. We continued reciting holy verses while Sammie slept. In the candle light, we could hear sounds coming towards us. They were snarling, hissing, crawling and growling around us. They sounded like angry terrifying beasts, coming closer and closer. We looked at each other in fear.
"Just keep on reciting the holy verses. Don't be frightened." , Miriam reassured us.
Without warning, all the lit candles went out. Poof! We screamed and held each other. Rose quickly lighted the candles again.
"She's gone! Sammie's gone. Where is she? Sammie! SAMMIE! ", we cried.
Yes, in a split second, Sammie was not on her bed anymore. We cried as we searched for Sammie around the house. We told the villagers and they conducted a search party but Sammi was nowhere to be seen.
"We must do something. Oh, Sammie, where are you ?" cried Nora.
The next day, all of us decided to consult a 'Pawang' (pronounced Par-wung) a witch-doctor who lived quite a long way off in the jungle. We told him what had happened to us. He shook his head and told us that we were too late to help our friend. We cried helplessly. He then gave us some charms to protect ourselves and told us what to do. That night we did as instructed. At 12.00 midnight, armed with torch lights and spades, all of us went outside and planted the charms at the four corners of the yard. It was drizzling. One, two, three, four charms had been planted and almost immediately, we could hear a horrible noise from inside the house. We forced ourselves to go into the house. It was as though, there was a tornado in the house, howling and flinging our things around the room, there were also howling and banging in the toilet. This went on for five minutes and then .silence. A few seconds later, the house moaned, creaked and shook terribly. Miriam pulled us out just in time before the roof caved in. The entire house had collapsed .except for Sammie's room.
That night, we stayed at one of the villager's hut, exhausted and bewildered. The villagers said that the house had collapsed because it was too old. We looked at each other silently. Then we stayed at the new living quarters even though they were not complete yet. There were still no water or electricity . We continued our lives there until each of us, was transferred to a different place. I was the last person among us to be transferred out and had to stay there alone for five years. Five years of my youth had gone with the wind and each day, I thought of that horrible incident which took Sammie away.
The villagers told me that, now and then, they saw candle light from the collapsed house. from Sammie's room. A few daring teens went to check it. Through the broken window, in the rays of a lighted candle, they saw a young lady. She had long beautiful curly hair up to her waist. They could not see her face. She was sitting in a chair and reading an old book. She was slowly flipping the pages of the book with her dainty fingers. Then she turned to face the boys and they ran and screamed in fear. But that is another story.
It has been a long time since I left that village but the memories from that place still haunt my life till this very day.
Submitted by Baizura

Our families were asleep back at the campsite, so Brian West and I decided to follow the deer trail down into the woods. We shuffled down the hill, and within seconds, the campfire disappeared behind us and near-midnight darkness overcame. I carried a lantern, but it was off, allowing our eyes to adjust. The moon, buried behind clouds and Sycamores, couldn't penetrate. We moved on. After fifteen minutes of walking silently, using brief, battery-powered bursts to light our way, we stopped near the buffalo wallow. And it was eerily silent. Usually, with armies of bullfrogs and other chattering creatures living nearby, the woods vibrate even at this time of night.
That's when I spotted the "red eye." I nudged Brian and gave him the "PSST." Immediately he found it, and we stared at the single glowing light.
"I looked over at it," Brian said, "and it looked like someone was pointing a laser scope on us. But there were no red dots on either of us, and the light wasn't moving at all, so we knew it wasn't a hunter or anyone playing a joke on us."
No joke.
And this was private property, no hunting, and no trespassing. I stared longer at the eye. It looked like someone holding an unmoving cigarette about twenty yards away, but I was thinking Alien! Or Chupacabra! I've heard stories of the aliens with red eyes, and I haven't heard one where the alien helped humanity, either. We stood in silence for a long six seconds, when we heard the scramble. The red eye disappeared, and in its place, a cacophony of ducks "quacking and fluttering for their lives" resonated through the Kansas night.
Lantern on. Adrenal glands secreting. Timberland's thumping. We were gone.
I slept fitfully that night. And after much discussion the following morning, Brian finally discounted the "red eye" as moonlight reflecting off of a bobcat's eye. "One-eyed bobcat?" I said. "Pitch black. There was no light for reflection." I couldn't let go of the paranormal. I needed more information.
After retelling my story to countless skeptics offering no suggestions other than I was crazy, I happened to hear Historical Detective Graham Phillips being interviewed by Whitley Strieber. Mr. Phillips was telling a story of his experience in England, and it went something like this (not verbatim): "We looked across to the other bank, and there was what appeared to be a little tiny red light, like somebody's got a cigarette over there, and I thought it was someone standing there with a cigarette, so we turned the flashlight out, and this light just didn't seem to move . . . if someone was standing there with a cigarette, it would be moving. . . ." My jaw dropped, and I performed several other shocked clichés. He went on to say the light disappeared, then reappeared across the lake, and appeared to grow to the size of a tennis ball, then . . . you'll have to ask him for the rest of the details.
I don't remember the final outcome, as I was remembering my own encounter as he spoke, but I think Mr. Phillips' UFO then took off into the sky.
Two similar experiences. Two different countries. I emailed Mr. Phillips, and his reply affirmed my paranormal perception. He calls his sighting "geoplasma," but I prefer to call mine the "Red Eye." Someday Brian and I will go back and investigate the eye, but for now, I'll keep my distance from the alien and its affinity for wood duck.
Submitted by Roger Hunt


When I was a boy, I had a friend named Morty Hill.
One weekend, Morty invited me to stay over at his house. It so happened that same weekend his family was also hosting a number of out of town relatives who were there for a wedding. They had quite a party there that Saturday night. When the party finally wound down it was pretty late. A lot of guests left to go home and the rest of us were left to find a bed.
The rooms went fast. Like musical chairs, when the end came, I was without a bed. I ended up getting the downstairs couch.
No big deal. At home, I slept by myself all the time, so I didn't even think about it. I went around turning off lights and finally switched off the light next to the couch, then lay down and slowly drifted to sleep.
Some time later I was awakened. It took me a couple of seconds to figure out where I was, but even then I didn't know what woke me up.
And that was when I first heard it.
Someone was walking around upstairs. I imagined that one of the out of town people had gotten up to go to the bathroom. A little later, I began to wonder why I could hear them so clearly. If they were walking barefoot I shouldn't have been able to hear them at all. Was I just imagining things?
No. There it was again. This time a little closer. Now I was fully awake. Whoever was walking around was purposeful. And they weren't bare footed either. This person had to have been wearing heavy shoes or boots. As I lay there, melding this into the fabric of a rationalization, footsteps walked the length of the hall above me.
I kept up my little mental narrative. Sure someone had gotten up and put on their shoes to go in search of a bathroom. That made sense.
Oops, wait a second, they just passed the upstairs bathroom! The footsteps kept coming.
Just as I start to wonder when they'd reach the end of the hall, realize their mistake and turn around, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs.
I'm kind of dense at times. With my mind hopelessly locked into this fantasy I,d concocted, I began to anticipate the point at which they would reach the bottom of the steps, turn down the hall and begin their final rush to the bathroom. I'm so into it, I start thinking maybe I need to use the bathroom myself!
I was visualizing all of this so vividly that it took me a couple of seconds to realize that the footsteps didn't make the turn at the bottom of the stairs. They just stopped. It kind of threw me off balance and I lost my focus for a moment. Again, I strained to listen. Still nothing. Then it hit me. Someone, some THING, is down here! In the next room. Standing.
Does it know I'm here? Can it see me? Can it hear me? I move not a muscle. I make a conscious choice to stop breathing, so I can hear it better. It doesn't help. The only sound I can hear is the beating of my heart. I start to panic.
Then, before any sound can manifest, I sense a change in awareness. Not mine... ITS.
I know without a doubt, IT is aware of me. I can FEEL it turn in my direction.
I hear it's footsteps begin to walk.
It comes around the corner and into the living room where I'm trying with all of my might to be invisible. If I opened my eyes right now, and there was enough light, I would be able to see whatever it was. I would just have to look down towards my feet and it would be in my direct line of sight. Only I won't because I'm too terrified. I notice now, for the first time, how cold the room has become.
It comes closer and stops at my feet. I can feel its eyes on me. The hairs on my neck and my arms respond by standing straight up. My fight or flight response has short-circuited, deserting me, forgetting to take me with it.
Just when I think it can't get any worse, an icy cold descends upon my feet. Whatever the hell it is, it has just sat down on me! There's no weight, just this freezer like, cold on my feet.
Paralyzed with fear, I pray like a madman. Not for fishhooks or to be a big-league ball player or any of those other prayers of a 14 year old, but for another kind of miracle entirely. I'm praying for deliverance.
The next thing I know, the early morning sun is shining in through a window waking me up.
Hearing voices in the kitchen, I get up from the couch and go out to see who it is.
It's my friend Morty, and his mom, sitting there at the kitchen table eating breakfast. They ask me how I slept. I tell them the whole grisly experience with as much drama as I can muster, only to see them smile. I ask them, "What's so funny?"
Apparently, they've heard this tale before. They've been living here for awhile now and are used to the things that go bump in the night. The story goes that an old man died in one of the upstairs bedrooms years ago. For some reason, his ghost likes to walk around the house at all hours. He never upsets anything but he is kind of noisy. Morty says, "I guess I should have told you."
I was never comfortable there after that and recently I've thought it a strange kind of coincidence that there's also a book titled "The Haunting of Hill House" by Shirley Jackson, as though the haunting of Morty's house was pre-ordained.

Submitted by Kevin Broeckling


When I was a 6 years old my family and I lived in a small upstairs apartment on Howards Street in St.Louis Missouri.

The apartment was small so my sister who was younger than me shared the same bedroom as my Parents.

My sister and I each had our own small beds tucked in the corner of the room and my parents bed was on the other side of the room from us. It was more like a giant living room turned into a bedroom. I remember taking great comfort as a child knowing my parents were so close to us at night when everything was dark and quiet. I was not really afraid of the dark and never had a reason to be. We had no TV back then and I had no thoughts on ghosts are monsters I was only a 6 year old boy. I remember my bed being pushed up against the wall so I wouldn't fall out of it in my sleep. I use to cuddle close to wall for security and then one night I woke up and when I opened my eyes I noticed a face on the wall staring right at me. It wasn't a scary face and in fact I really can't remember now exactly what it looked like. I do recall how frightened I was when I realized I was truly awake and could see this face. I looked at my parents across the room sleeping and could here my Fathers snoring and when I looked back at the wall the face was still there. My first thought as a child was to feel the face on the wall to see if I could feel a nose or the features of a face. The wall was flat and that is when I got scared and called out to my Mother crying..I remember seeing my Mother get out of bed and turned the light on she came over and in her comforting way held me in her arms and asked me what was wrong..I told her I saw a face on the wall and her reply was I was only dreaming. We both looked at the wall and of course nothing was there but my heart wasn't comforted by that fact.

I kept telling her with all my heart that there was a face there. She layed me back on the bed and caressed my forehead and if it hadn't been for the fear that I felt I would have immediately went back to sleep. She finally decided that I was comforted and told me she was right across the room and could see me and to be brave and go back to sleep. I saw her turn the light out and get back into bed and I heard my Father ask her what my problem was and heard her whisper that I had a bad dream. I heard him chuckle a little bit and then everything was quiet again.. I had turned away from the wall in fact I was practically hanging off the other side of the bed. After a few minutes my curiosity got the best of me and I turned and looked at the wall. Once again the face was there only this time it was smiling at me..I called out to my Mother again with a great fear and I saw her raise up in the bed and tell me to put the covers over my head and it wouldn't bother me. I was actually looking at the face while she was talking to me.

So I put the covers over my head and all night long I trembled in fear and sweat and was so glad when morning came and I saw sunlight. I never took my head out from under those covers. The following day I forgot about the face until it was once again time for bed. I remember pleading with my parents that there was a face and I didn't want to go to bed. The face never returned but for weeks after that I would lay in bed at night and tremble. Even as a small boy I remember praying that God would watch over me and protect me in my sleep. Many years later I would have talks with my Mother about that night and I think I finally convinced her it was real. I am an adult now and many times at night I still think about that face wondering what it was or who it was. I believe God's angels don't scare children so with that in mind as a reader of this story what do you think it was?

My name is Jerry Robin. I swear on my Honor this story is true I can still feel the fear I felt as a child when I think of it. By the way, the apartment is no longer there it was torn down many years ago.

Submitted by Jerry Robin


About a year ago, I had the most terrifying experience of my life! It took place in the basement of an old house that I rented during college from a nice couple who lived upstairs. It was bedtime at about 2:30 AM, I turned off the lamp and set my lap top computer on the desk beside my bed which left my room illuminated by a dim bluish light from the screen.

After what felt like 20 minutes of sleeping I suddenly awoke to the point where my whole body was paralyzed, completely clued to the bed, I couldn't move a muscle except my eyes. I felt a very strong evil presence surround me, the feeling just flushed through out my entire body like I was apart of a real life horror movie. Then a loud sound occurred in my ears, a screechy piano/organ like noise that seemed to fill the room. And then I saw "it". A black shadowed ghost figure beside my bedroom door. As I tried so much to focus on it, it looked like it was getting bigger and moving closer towards my bed. I blinked several times but was too terrified to close my eyes for more than 2 seconds, yet it still remained. It stopped at about 10 inches from my bedside and I noticed that the figure looked like a longhaired disfigured human dressed in a raggedy black shredded robe. It then tilted down towards me almost as if it was kneeling beside my bed and I remember seeing it's devilish, demented face staring into mine, with empty eye sockets, no nose and crooked teeth stained with blood, it's face was totally off angle. I tried so hard to scream out for help, but nothing came out. Tears were strolling down the sides of my face and my heart was pounding so fast that I literally thought I was going to die. This thing looked like some kind of devil or demon. I moved my eyes the other way to avoid the awfully terrifying image hoping that it would go away, but the noise got louder, my eyes grew wider and I thought I had felt it touch me. It's face then reappeared with a big ugly grin I will never forget. I cannot explain the imaginatively horrifying feeling I felt at that moment. My head would not move and my body felt stiff, like a piece of heavy wood....

Minutes later, it started to fade into thin air and the noise got smaller but also changed to a higher pitch sound, like holding down the high notes of an organ. Once it disappeared, I regained the use of my body again but I was shaking with fear, afraid to fall back asleep thinking that it may reappear. I held on to my blanket as I pulled up to my head and turned over on my side and just laid there until I calmed down. For the life of me It was real! It was no dream! I remember every detail like it was yesterday. The next day, I told my story to a person I know and they said that it might have been caused by a condition called "sleep paralysis" where he said that during an episode, a so called witch, or "the old hag" as they call it, appears who comes to haunt you while you can't move. It definitely had the resemblance of a witch. But the real question is, was I being haunted that night or was it really just an awful hallucination? It will continue to remain a mystery.

Submitted by Ely M


Back in the late 1980's, when I was roughly between the ages of 5 and 7, I had an experience that seemed to reassure me that I wasn't seeing things, yet the very next day that experience frightened me into removing any posters or pictures from the walls of my room.

There was a time when I lived in Colorado Springs where I would wake up in the mornings and look directly to a poster at the far right hand of the room next to my window. There was nothing really special about this poster, it wasn't old, nor did it have any value at all; It most probably came through the newspaper as advertisement. The poster was of 4 characters behind instruments and smiling. Least did I know that there was more to this poster.

I'm not sure how and why I started to look at this poster, but I do remember waking up one morning and seeing one of the characters in the poster waving at me. I was confused to begin with and would look at this poster to see what else would happen before I had to get up. I ended up smiling back at the poster and would wave back. There would be times when I would wake up and find characters missing or characters switching positions with other characters. Not at any point did I ever really question why it was happening, but I had thought I must of made new friends.

I continued to wave at them in the mornings until the day I decided to tell my mum. I told her that the characters in the poster were alive and waving at me; she laughed and told me it wasn't real and it was just my imagination. I was rather upset from all of it and I decided to ignore the characters -- that were in the poster -- the next day. The next morning I woke up and looked at the poster, all the characters were there smiling and waving at me. I did nothing. They continued to wave, so I then shouted at the poster telling them I was told they were not real and they are not real. They stopped waving.

That night after being told my experiences was just my imagination -- I woke up for some reason -- not sure if I heard or felt anything, but maybe I just woke up naturally, however I woke up to find the characters -- that was from the poster -- were now standing at the end of my bed. I was so happy that I leaped out of my bed and began to hug them. At the time I was really happy that they were real and that they we're not part of my imagination.

I then heard one of them speak with a soft female voice: "You're not supposed to be awake, you need to go back to sleep".

I was so happy and wanted to show how happy I was, and so I said: "I knew you were real and I just want to give you all a hug".

She then replied with: "That's fine, but you need to go back to sleep".

After I finished giving each of them a hug, I laid back down into my bed and waved to them as I watched them walk into my closet.

That morning I found myself no longer happy, but freaked out from what had happened during the night. I quickly asked my mum to take down all the pictures and posters in my room. She asked for a reason, but I didn't give her one. This experience had frightened me so much that I later refused to have a piece of art hanged in my room -- it was a piece of art that I did in class that was an outline drawing of myself, but with labels and descriptions of organs placed inside that drawing. I didn't give the reason why I didn't want it in my room, but the truth was that I was afraid that it would come alive and it was something I didn't want to happen, nor did I want to meet it during the night.

Submitted by Daniel S

My friend Steve shares a house with his brother in Arlington, MA. His skeptical view of the world could give Michael Shermer a run for his money, so when he relayed this tale to me I thought he was pulling my leg. He wasn't.
A couple of years ago, in mid-fall, Steve took a walk to the back yard to straighten up the trash buckets. Behind him a small pond sat placidly under a cloud of fog. He never liked the pond because of the never ending feeling that it was watching him.
He never told this to anyone for fear of ridicule, so he coped by not looking at the pond at all. No matter what he had to do, even if it was something pertaining to the pond itself, like removing garbage from the edges or setting small boats onto the water for his young nephew. But that day, as the brisk fall air forced one of the garbage cans to topple over and roll into the pond, Steve realized he had to face his fear. He ran after the can, but missed it by a few inches as it hit the surface of the pond water and began to sail away. The fog was unusually thick, but Steve didn't want to hear his brothers protestations about a garbage can in the pond, so he followed it in.
The water was a few inches passed his ankles and he found it hard to see through the fog so he held his hands out at knee level trying to feel for the bucket. He did this for a few minutes before giving up. He stood tall and tried one last time to see through the fog. The feeling of someone, or something, watching him returned. He told himself this was ridiculous. It was midday, and despite the fog, the pond was not too big and so the possibility of someone lurking in it seemed stupid.
Just as he was reconciling with this fact the fog slowly began to part. About four feet in front of him a path clear of fog stretched out all the way to the other end of the pond. He imagined this was what it was like when Moses parted the red sea.
He stood in awe just as a figure emerged from the fog and stood in the path, facing away from him. He said it was a woman, dressed entirely in white. Her gown flowed into the fog from which she had emerged only seconds ago. She was looking away from him, toward the other end of the pond and her hair billowed in an invisible wind. He said her hair was more of a grayish color. As her hair billowed he saw what he perceived to be a pointed ear, almost eleven.
She stood their for sometime, looking away from him before the fog slowly began to close in like two walls coming together until the woman was enveloped in the fog once again.
He said he had no time to register what he had seen before the fog quickly dissipated; pulling back into the trees until it was gone. He stood in the water, dumbfounded as the pond loomed beneath him, placid and relatively normal.
The garbage bucket stood upright at the farther end of the bank as if someone had pulled it out and sat it down on the grass. He said he turned and literally ran to the house. He had never run that fast before in his life.
He never relayed the tale to his brother, or anyone else for that matter until the subject of King Arthur, Merlin and the lady in the water came about a week ago, while he was at work. This is when he told me this story and now I am telling it to you.
He swears it is completely true.
Submitted by Tina Sena

Well this is a recent tale of an encounter we have been having in our two bedroom house in Albuquerque New Mexico. We live in an area that was a sand dune but a mile away lies Petroglyphs from an ancient Indian race. We have had different types of encounters in our house from items falling in the bathroom, Shadows in the hallway, Orbs flying in the house, Pots and pans moving in the kitchen and a small figure walking in the hall on occasion and putting spoons in cups, and tall black cloaked figures standing in rooms that only the children can see thank god! I have been around hauntings since I was very young growing up in Farmington New Mexico that was a town littered with ancient Indian artifacts all over the area called Anasazi's. So The house I grew up in was haunted and I saw many things and heard many things that I wish I could forget (The house has been sold 3 times since we lived there....Curious).
Anyways, Our little house in Albuquerque started having visitors about 3 years ago and they seem to come and go. Our fist just liked to walk around the house and occasionally tug on the bed sheets to let you know it was around. The second was the cloaked figures that my daughter saw even during the day standing either in the living room or the hall by the bedroom she claims it was taller than me so it was at least 6 feet tall. These things would look like shadow at night and would go in the kids room and wake them up in the middle of the night. I stayed up one night to see one of these things in the hall so I did and gathered every ounce of courage and tried to touch one and it disappeared into the wall which made the hair on my head stand up. My wife saw it one morning in the hall, she thought it was me but I didn't reply when she called me so she put her glasses on to see and it was gone. Then the orbs filled the house floating about in every room of the house my kids called them baby ghost and were even chased by them (we video taped them on the cam corder). Last is our little child that walks in the hall that is bare foot, my wife saw her little head below the breakfast bar as she was washing dishes and thought is was our daughter, when she looked around the bar to ask her what she was doing out of bed nothing was there. This girl likes to make our hanging puts swing and put our children's spoons in our coffee when we leave the kitchen. When the puts first started swinging there was a really cold spot in the middle of the living room. I thought it was just me so I brought my wife to show her and she felt it too, you could walk out of it and it was warm again it lasted for about 5 minutes and it was gone. This morning after fighting the alarm clock I awoke to hear the little girl slowly waking in the hall towards the kids room and that was it.
I would like to know who or what is going on in our house. Are they following me because I have had encounters since I was a child? I would like to know...
Submitted by Michael J. Gonzales

In the Fall of 1990, I was working for a cleaning company in my little hometown of Port Clinton, Ohio. This company won a bid to clean the facilities for the Franz Theodore Stone Laboratory on Gibraltar Island located in the Put-in-Bay harbor. The Theodore Stone Laboratory is the nation's oldest freshwater biological field station and is the Island Campus of Ohio State University. Our responsibility was to clean two houses, which were living quarters, a cafeteria building as well as the old Cook Castle, a large mansion that overlooks the Put-in-Bay harbor.
We were given a week to do all the cleaning and were allowed to stay on the Island, staying in one of the two houses of which we were cleaning. We divided into groups and began our work. I was fascinated with the old Cook Castle and began working there. The faculty working in the OSU laboratory would come to visit us while we cleaned and we would talk about the island and the castle. One of the faculty members remarked that the the castle was haunted which of course peaked everyones interest. They explained that the third floor and the tower in particular was haunted, so we began to joke around about it and went about our work. I personally did not believe the "ghost stories" and began cleaning in the high tower. As I began cleaning, one of the other members called my name and I came down the tower in answer to the call, but no one had called me. I knew that they had to be playing with me because we were all kidding round about the place being haunted. As I continued sweeping the floor I had the strangest feeling that there was someone watching me, as if standing behind me. Turning around I saw nothing. This sensation grew and grew and before I knew it I was sweeping while looking over my back. It was the strangest feeling. I felt silly knowing that I had just spooked myself about the place being haunted and was making this all up in my mind. Yet I couldn't stand it any longer and left the tower to clean somewhere else. I traveled down to the second floor and began cleaning with my sister who was working with us. Several hours later I was talking to my sister in the main hallway and in my peripheral vision I saw a large dark mist float past the doorway which we were standing next to. After it went out of view I immediately checked and there was no one in the room. The room was bare. My sister didn't see anything and I chalked it up to my mind continuing to play tricks on me.
We finished up that night and had a cookout and party and went to sleep without a hitch. The next evening we were cleaning one of the houses on the island. Everyone, including the OSU faculty had left the island except for a handful of us who wanted to stay the night. I was cleaning one of the bedrooms and was standing right next to the window when someone knocked on the window from outside. I just laughed and continued on working and conversing with the others. About five minutes later it happened again and I ran out of the room, ran out of the house as fast as I could to catch the prankster, but no one was there. I went back into the the house and there were all five of my co-workers. They had not left the house. I told them what happened and we all took a look outside. It was very dark and their was no one else on the Island. Once the boat leaves in the evening no one could come over to the Island and no one could leave. We all got a little spooked by it, not so much that someone or something knocked on the window, but by the realization that we could not get off the Island if we wanted to.
The next day we were finishing up the cleaning in that same house and I looked at the window where the knocking had occurred. I was shocked. I ran out of the house to look at the window from the outside. There was about a four inch gap between the window and the window screen and the window screen was painted shut, which meant that the only way anyone could knock on the window pane was from the inside! I showed this to several others and they were spooked, because they heard the knocking on the window as well from the previous night. I went back into the room to investigate further and the shower was turned on in the bathroom off of that room. No one else was in the house. I turned off the shower and left in a hurry.
Later that day my boss, who was also my sister's boyfriend, gave me instructions to go down in the basement located in the cafeteria to get something that he had left there. In the basement there were three floor freezers (like refrigerators laying on the floor) and one large walk-in freezer. When I arrived in the basement all of the freezer doors were wide open. I shut all the doors and grabbed the item he wanted and returned and told him about the freezers. He looked at me in astonishment because he had just come from the basement and everything had been fine. We walked back down and I showed him how all the doors were opened and we both said nothing. We didn't know what to think.
That night my boss and I were on the Island with a couple of attractive girls who also worked for the business and we were drinking beer and having fun. My boss made a bet with me that I could not go into the castle, all the way up to the high tower and back down again for an extra $50. Being in the presence of two attractive girls I could not refuse the opportunity to be courageous and cool, as well as earn an extra $50, so I agreed. All the doors on the castle were locked and my boss/friend unlocked the rear door and opened it. Looking down the blackened hallway he handed me a lighter and said that they will be watching me from the outside through the windows and I had to approach a window on each floor so they knew that I actually completed the bet. He patted me on the back and I began the long walk down the black hallway to enter the main house. As I was about a quarter of the way down the hallway with my lighter in hand I could hear my boss/friend behind me say in a deep voice, "I'm going to get you John...." I just laughed and yelled out "very funny!" and continued down the hall. I entered the main floor of the castle and it was extremely frightening. I felt a coldness and an aloneness that I can't explain to this day. The darkness of the castle was almost unbearable. I had to walk slowly because at one point the flame went out on the lighter and I almost panicked. My friends outside were shining a flashlight into the castle which gave me little comfort at the time.
I slowly began my ascent up the stairs to the second floor. I remembered the strange black mist I saw earlier that week on the second floor. I was not about to look out around me lest I see something, so I looked straight down at my feet as I walked. I cleared the second floor and ascended the third. I could hear my friends outside calling my name and flashing their lights through the windows. As I continued down the hallway on the third floor I became aware of an almost overwhelming feeling of being watched, almost like someone or something was walking next to me, staring at me.
I finally came to the entrance of the high tower, which was right next to a window. I paused, looking out the window at my friends and they cheered when they saw me.
I turned to walk up the stairs to the tower and something stopped me. I couldn't go any further. The darkness seemed almost too dark. There was something there in front of me. Something that somehow told me that if I continued up the stairs I would die. An unworldly fear engulfed me and I was paralyzed. Right at that moment the little flint roller on the lighter popped off and the flame went out. In that moment of terror I fell back against the wall and slid down huddling in the corner right next to the window. All I could do was look down because I knew something was there staring at me and if I looked up...well, that would be the end of me. I went into a state of shock. I heard my friends outside and could tell that they were shining their lights through the window. I reached up and placed my hand on the window and they saw my hand and started calling out to me. Time seemed to stand still. All I remember next was that my boss and an another co-worker came up into the castle to the third floor calling my name. I couldn't answer, the fear had gripped me so hard. When they found me they stood there shocked for a moment and quickly grabbed me lifting me up. I was able to muster a "get me the f out of here" and they basically carried me out of the castle, but instead of going out the back door we went out the front, double doors and out onto the lawn.
I remember shaking so badly that I had trouble talking or walking. They picked me up and carried me to one of the houses and wrapped me up in blankets. After about an hour and some hot tea I was able to talk. They told me that they thought I was playing a trick on them because shortly after they saw me in the third floor window the two double front doors opened up in front of them. I looked at them in amazement. I told them that I had been on the third floor the whole time and couldn't move. They looked at each other in astonishment. The only way that the double doors could have been opened was from the inside and there was a 2x6 beam that kept the doors from being opened, which was propped up next to the doors, as if someone had placed it there after opening them.
I then told my boss that I didn't appreciate what he said to me when I began my walk into the castle. He looked over at the two girls and back at me and said, "I never said anything to you after I patted you on the back. I immediately went back to the girls and began watching you through the windows." Needless to say everyone was in a state of bewilderment and fear.
When the sun finally rose that morning and the rest of the crew arrived I left the Island never to return again. I later learned that several other people had experienced strange things while working there as well, such as window blinds being rattled, people hearing their names being called, and a full-sized painting of one of the houses being constantly turned upside down without explanation.
Submitted By John Blatt

After my last child was done with college, I had more time and money to travel. Fascinating with European old world culture, I went with my husband visited cities and towns in French, England, Holland, Switzerland and Germany. In each country, I preferred to stay in small hotels or inns. To me, they have a lot more character than big chain hotels.
One hotel we stayed had plenty of character as well as something else. Built more than 300 years ago, it is a solid four-story stone building with a basement of Roman baths where thermal water is piped in. We love to soak in the hot water; it relaxes our mind and body. The basement is full of nooks and crannies, eerily quiet even in the middle of the day.
We were assigned a small room on the third floor. It had two twin beds pushed together the European way. A thin mattress was on each bed, covered with a sheet and topped off with a thick down duvet. Nights in these parts of the world were cold in October.
We arrived at the hotel in the afternoon. After a long day of travel, we had a quick dinner and retired to our room. I fell asleep quickly after reading a few pages of a paperback novel I brought (It was a romantic fiction, not a scary storybook).
Breakfast was included in the price so we were up early the next day to enjoy good bread, cold cut meat and cheese. Drinking his cup of coffee, my husband asked. "You sleep okay?" "Yup, like a rock, and you?" "I slept fine until your book fell off the bed and made such a loud noise. Woke me up for a little bit but I feel back to sleep afterwards"
I asked in surprise. "My book made a loud noise? It's a paperback book." My husband shrugged his shoulders, and did not answer.
The day was spent in a whirlwind. We went here and there looking at scenery and sampling local food. We came back to the room tired and ready for our night. Remember what my husband said in the morning, I sat on my side of the bed, threw my book down on the wooden floor and asked.
"Did it sound like this last night?" He shook his head. "No, much louder, more like this" He lifted one side of a heavy chair nearby then let go of it. Its leg hit the floor and made a loud thumping noise. Now, I was scared. I scuttled to his side of the bed. "We change side, you sleep on that side tonight"
My husband laughed and moved the extra pillow to that side. He soon sounded asleep. It was only 9:00 pm local time. I was not sleepy so I had my nightlight on and read some more. All of a sudden, I heard a loud thumping noise at the end of the bed, at my side. I looked at the foot of the bed and then at the whole room. I did not see anybody or anything there. The wardrobe, table and chair were all in places. While I was looking, another thump sounded right by my feet. I rolled over the crack in the middle of the bed and burrowed myself next to my husband under his duvet.
I fell asleep without turning off the light. In the morning, hearing the story, my husband laughed and said he will try to stay awake to see if the ghost wanted to communicate with him. Better him then me!
For the rest of the vacation, I tried to fall asleep ahead of my husband and ignored any thumping noise I heard. After all, with a full hotel, the ghost must have been busy scaring other people besides us.
I love the hotel though, and plan to be back soon to visit its thermal bath as well as its loud noise ghost.
Submitted by TTran

These are truthful and accurate descriptions 'from the trenches' of some of the unusual technology that is being covertly implemented right now by Black Ops. Imagine how this can be used on a larger scale to control people by sowing misery and terror. What I have experienced is just a small part of what the technology can do which is never reported by the alternative press and so is virtually unknown or disbelieved by most of the population.
PALM DESERT area, CA One night as I was followed in my car by U.S. Government Black Ops, in order to lose them, I quickly turned off the main road of Ramon onto a side street and shut off my headlights while still driving so that I "disappeared" into the night. I immediately pulled into the private driveway of a home that was still under construction and hid my car behind it. Directly across the street from the driveway was totally barren desert.
I hid there for quite a while. Apparently my stalkers were having a problem tracing me because the same cars and trucks kept zooming violently past on Ramon Road -- back and forth, back and forth -- obviously in a rage that they had lost me.
I really didn't know what to do so I decided to remain where I was and see what happened. But after about 25 minutes while standing outside of my car in the dark, I suddenly felt something invisibly "find"me. I didn't know what it was then... but now I know this was their tracking device. So I grabbed my camcorder, walked directly across the street and lay down in the sand right behind a sand dune. I propped my camera up on top of the dune so I was in position to immediately start shooting when the stalkers arrived.
As I lay there waiting, I suddenly had the distinct and very uncomfortable feeling I was being watched on my left. But when I turned, there was nothing there but open desert. I scoffed at my feelings and told myself that it was my imagination but at the same time, I felt too uneasy to remain lying in the sand and decided to walk back across the road to the safety of my car. As I stood next to the drivers seat ready to get in, I distinctly heard footsteps walking on the gravel about 8 feet to my left. But there was no one there.
I waited. I listened for something. I sensed that "someone" was near me. And then I got the distinct feeling that this "presence" was quickly moving around my car. I called out loud, "Don't move so fast -- you're frightening me!" And it was at this point that an invisible HAND grabbed my crotch and squeezed it.
(sorry to be graphic... but that's what happened) This is the truth. The absolute accurate truth.
#2 I was suddenly awakened by something violently grabbing my throat -- not a hand -- but "a pressure" that was literally closing up my windpipe and choking me so that I was unable to breathe. I threw myself out of bed while heaving for air but it followed me into the living room. I stood there gasping for air and I thought it was the end of my life when the attack abruptly ended. Although some might believe this was an asthma attack -- it was not. I have never had asthma or any problem breathing. And the pressure very definitely came from outside of my body.
I had been trying to find Ed Asners contact information. This was the first of a series of 'choking threats' I was to receive for trying to contact the alternative media.
#3 While standing in my kitchen preparing some food, I suddenly felt "a presence" racing towards my back as if it was going to lunge at me. Before I could turn around, something actually pushed me! But no one was there. Since then, I have been literally pushed while walking down the stairs at the train station in New Delhi and also in the street. I heard too they can levitate people.
Submitted by Leslie O

Certain areas throughout the world are concentrated with energetic anomalies. And, from my experience, the state of Michigan has an abundance of them. I have visually experienced phenomena in the state's Upper Peninsula and on Mackinaw Island. But, the most dramatic sighting occurred in a rural area southeast of Big Rapids.
It was after college and before committing to a "meaningful" career. Two friends and I rented an old farm house with a small, swampy lake on the back forty. It was a mile or more distant from any other house. We unanimously decided, shortly after moving in, to host a party. We called a few former college chums and invited them for the weekend.
One day in October, our house filled with four of our best friends. It was spectacular weather, warm with a stiff westerly breeze. A wind that signaled the weather might change with electrifying suddenness.
During our lunch of a hearty, homemade soup and crusty bread, we shared the ghost stories we had heard from the townies: The woman who ran through the woods with an infant in her arms keening for help, a story of brutality and murder. I could personally vouch for the next story of a vagabond, hit by a car in the 1930s, who still walked the road on which he was killed. I had seen this apparition late one afternoon on the way home from work. The other story was entirely different.
We had been told that there was a graveyard exclusively for children some twenty miles northwest of the house. No one living could or would explain why it was a graveyard for children only. We decided to check it out; convinced we could find a logical explanation for this anomaly. And, of course, we were just plain curious.
Later that afternoon, we all piled in a friend's van, and followed the directions given us by the townies. It was after five o'clock when we spotted an overgrown two-track leading into a thickly wooded area. We pulled off the road and got out of the van. The wind had picked up and was now twirling the brightly tinged fall leaves down the road. Everyone was in high spirits, bordering on edginess.
A roommate and I volunteered to walk down the two-track and see if we had found the graveyard's location, and if the narrow road was accessible for the van. The sandy two-track curved, winding into old-growth woods thick with wild blackberry brambles. The farther we went, the quieter it became. The road ended in a wide clearing, large enough for the van to turn around in. On the edge of the clearing were toppled gravestones.
We walked back to our waiting friends and shared the news, including the fact that no wind was blowing within. This announcement was greeted with laughter, and we were accused of having over-active imaginations, since the wind on the road was stiff enough to whip our hair around our faces. I chuckled too, and for a moment doubted myself, until we drove in, parked the van, and got out. Now, everyone experienced the same deathly silence. Even the snap of a twig underfoot sounded unnaturally dull. We made lame jokes, our laughter hard and artificial.
We kept one another in sight as we looked in and around the area for evidence. What we found were simple headstones. Inscriptions were much the same and included name of the child, the name of the parents, and year of death.
Infant daughter of
James and Evelyn Smith
It was not long before the light thinned and the silence deepened, if that is possible. When we returned to the van, it was dark. Between us, we had discovered thirty graves. There was no doubt in any of our minds that there were more. We discussed returning the next day and recording the names of those we had found. The local library might hold a clue as to the cause of death, and the reasons for this anomaly. That agreed upon, we got in the van and started back.
We had gone no more than twenty feet when the driver gasped and stopped the van. We all looked to see what he was pointing at. In the bright light cast by the van's headlamps, we could clearly see footprints. The impressions had been made on top of the van's incoming tracks. They were side by side. One set of prints were of two hooves. The other prints were the bare feet of a small infant. They crossed from left to right and disappeared into the woods. We were stunned, somewhat in shock. Someone said, "Let's get out of here." I think everyone mumbled an agreement.
The driver started out slowly. We were almost to the road. Suddenly there was a choked cry from the front-seat passenger. He was pointing out the window and directly at a creature walking along the edge of the woods, a creature who returned our stare. It was a satyr, if you will. The top half was a thick-haired, bearded man with penetrating bold eyes. The bottom half of the body was goat like. He was holding the hand of a small child, a girl with soft brown hair. They quickly distanced themselves from the van and disappeared into the woods.
We never returned to the cemetery. I know only one thing about what I saw, and it is this: I will never forget it. I know I am not the only one.
Submitted by Garrett R. Wie

On February 3, 2003, my beloved muse and soulmate Misha, passed away. All I could do when I got an early morning phone call telling me he had just died, was cry "oh God no, God no " The night before the vet had not told me he was so ill he could die, instead I was told to phone that day to learn a time I could bring him home! My heart was shattered.
The evening before I visited Misha in intensive care where I was told if I could get him to eat, he could come home the next day. He ate a little for me so I was feeling good thinking he would be coming home.
His tubes had been disconnected for our visit and he was wet from having been bathed. He shivered and shivered so I placed my long purple wool coat over him then leaned over him to hold and warm him while I lovingly spoke to him, reminding him of how much I and the family loved him. In spite of everything, pain, tubes, feeling terrible, he placed his little head into the palm of my right hand rubbing it then purred and purred and purred.
He ate a tiny bit and when the technician took him back to his room he looked back at me so sorrowfully as if to non-verbally say, "please mama, don,t leave me here which broke my heart. I smiled and said "bye Misha, see you tomorrow.
No one gave me any reason to think he was so ill he might or could die! So when that early morning phone call came waking me to the tell me Misha had just passed away I was shocked by the reality of the loss of him.
Gone was my precious cat child of 15 years filled with love, laughter, play, joy, comfort, and surprise suddenly came to an abrupt out- of- left - field end.
Just the day before he was running like a holy terror still behaving and looking like a kitten. Ever the lover, warrior, rebel, hunting bugs, birds and things.
In the morning before awakening to take Misha to a Vet, I dreamed that I was in a wooded area holding him across my outstretched facing upward forearms. We came to a clearing of bleachers in a circle. I walked inside. The sunlight was blinding. I sat down then people began to slowly file into the bleachers. The light was so bright it was difficult to see any features or details of the people. All were wearing white. As each person entered he or she stroked Misha as if to Bless or send healing energy to him before they sat.
There was a feeling of something spiritual or religious in this circle. I remember thinking, if this turns out to be some kind of religious gathering we will leave. It turned out to be a gathering of angels.
When I awakened, I thought the message was Misha would be healed then recover, until a couple days later, while describing the dream vision to a friend, suddenly a lightening bolt of understanding shot through me and I said "oh my God, maybe the message is they are preparing him for transitioning to be healed beyond this plane."
When he died, it was affirmed. I struggled with a broken heart and found it hard to want to continue on. In a two week period I lost my parents, the family dog died, had been held up at gunpoint, dealt with a lawsuit, Misha's passing and more.
Often when we layed together I spoke to him about returning to me if he had no other assignments or contracts ... but, to make certain we found one another.
While standing in line at a metaphysical fair awaiting an aura photo shoot, I mentally told Misha to show up in the photo if he was around me. A ball of white light was in the picture beside my head. The reader for the pics responded with "oh look, you have a spirit guide" To which I replied "yes, that's my cat." She argued, not believing a cat's spirit could be a guide, but I knew it was him. I left very pleased.
Once his spirit appeared before me dressed in a silk mandarin jacket standing upright and with paws together as he bowed.
On June 5th, a friend appeared on my porch with a box in hand. She handed it to me saying "here, take this! My eyes darted and darted around until I finally spotted a tiny spec of a kitten, immediately placed him into one hand then up against my right cheek, ahhhhing all over the place.
His mother had no milk so he needed to be bottle fed and so on. From his first moments here, he knew his way around our house, went directly to his favorite spot then rolled on his back as he did when he was Misha. He thought he was a very big boy!
He is Mishkah now and he worships his dog and loves his 19 year old Mr. Mom Cat who raised him last incarnation and this . The same friend who brought him to me 15 years prior had brought him back to me anew. She found him in another state!
One day while talking with a friend, suddenly another lightening bolt moment shot through upon recalling that each time before letting Misha outside I always said, "you take your angels wit chew, "be safe. Which then gave me an understanding of the vision of the etherial beings (angels) who came to comfort, heal and take him home where he would be well and safe.
Also, a light being appeared at my side while I lay on the sofa worrying about Misha surviving a surgery a couple years prior, to tell me "everything is alright, he will be fine. Minutes later, the phone rang bringing me the message of a surgery gone well and that my little boy was fine.
If ever there was proof of reincarnation, he has been that. I couldn,t count the number of ways Mishkah duplicates Misha's behavior and mannerisims, it's kind of spooky at times. I have had many cats over many years and none of the others behaved like him, including his propencity for positioning his paws in mudras.
He and my Pasha inspired my yet unpublished book "Angels in Kittysuits." My little heartsong is once again with me.
Submitted by Brenda Cleveland

Many years ago, I quite suddenly awakened at 3 AM and sat straight up in bed to find my oma (grandmother) who lived in Austria, standing in my Colorado bedroom wearing a black dress, stockings and shoes. My favorite aunt stood in the background also wearing a black dress and head scarf.
Oma had always worn colorful head scarves neatly pressed and tied under her chin. This night she wore a black one. She had come to hug me goodbye. We made peace with a long hug and said our goodbyes. Later that day my mother phoned from another city to tell me oma had died . I told her I already knew and that she and aunt Hilli had visited. I asked for the time of her passing. It translated to 3 AM in my time zone.
For all my life my mother allowed me think oma was the shrew I had believed her to be. Among my gripes was her consistent nagging of my opa (grandfather) whom I adored. So for that and other reasons, I never like my grandmother and always held that against her.
A couple years after her transition, my mother told me the truth about both my oma and opa. Turns out he had made her life pretty awful and challenging, often exhibiting less than stellar behavior. Upon learning the truth and facts behind her behavior and his, this completely reversed my perspective. Had she not come to make peace with me, I would have lived with tremendous guilt and regret after her leaving. Consequently, I am so grateful oma came to make peace and show me she loved me.
Submitted by Brenda Cleveland

This is a true, personal story.
These series of events occurred back in the summer of 1982, while visiting the home of one of my mother's best friends, who lived in St. Louis at the time.
My mother's best friend, whose name was Linda (she has recently passed away), lived in a huge three story mansion in one of St. Louis' upscale suburbs. It was an old mansion, built back in the mid-1800's, was once used in the Underground Railroad, and actually had secret rooms to hide people in. This was a majestic home which had a ballroom, a small library, a sun room, seven full bathrooms, and many more bedrooms. When we arrived we were all in amazement. Who wouldn't be. We were shown all round the mansion, the secret rooms, all three stories, the attic as well as the basement. Their beautiful black cat came up to me soon after we came into the house and rubbed against my legs, purring loudly.
Each one of us got to pick which bedroom we wanted to stay in and we all had fun exploring the old house. I spent a lot of time down in the basement where they had an entertainment center and lots of movies to watch while my sister and mom spent most of their time visiting with Linda and her daughter upstairs. The basement was huge and dark, which I did not explore. Their cat would spend a lot of time in the basement with me and would venture off into the darkness of the basement.
One day it was decided that everyone was going to go shopping and since I was the only boy I knew what that meant...several hours of boredom watching the women try on clothes. So I asked to stay home instead and they let me. Freedom! I felt like I was a boy in wonderland. I turned up their stereo full-blast and ran through the house, checking out everything. After awhile I decided to sit and read a little in their sun room, right off of the kitchen. As I was sitting there I heard a scratching sound coming from the door in front of me. There was a door there that I hadn't explored before. I got up thinking that it must be a door that led to the backyard and that the cat wanted to come in. I opened the door and I was immediately hit with a horror. The door made a horrible screech as it was opened and the little hallway that it opened to was filled with cobwebs. But the hallway didn't lead to the backyard, but led nowhere. It was a dead end with stairs going down to a wall with a little window in it. But that was not what horrified me, a moment after I opened the door and looked inside I realized that there was no cat and I was literally attacked by something unseen. All I can do to explain it was it was like something jumped on top of me and forced me to the ground. It immediately tried to scream and cry out but I couldn't, I was paralyzed. All of my energy was being drained and I was frozen, laying helpless on the sun room floor. It seemed like an eternity laying there and the feeling of horror did not leave me. I had never been so terrified in my whole life. The pressure of this "thing" slowly let up off of my body and my body slowly started to regain its energy and I began to crawl away from the doorway. I crawled through the kitchen and into the hallway to the main door. I soon was able to get up and run out of the house screaming. I ran down the driveway and waited by the main road until everyone came home, which was several hours later.
When they arrived they asked me why I was waiting outside by the street and I was afraid that I would get in trouble for supposedly making up stories of Linda's wonderful house, so I said nothing. I felt much better once they came home.
Every evening after laying down for the night in my own room it was hard to go to sleep. I kept feeling that there was something under the bed, which for me at that age (I was eleven years old) was foolish. The bed frame was old and it kept the bed very high off the floor. I had to jump up into bed every night. Once in bed I never wanted to get down because of the feeling that something was going to grab me and after the event in the sun room I was even that much more afraid.
Later the next day I was in the kitchen with everyone else and I kept wondering about the door and being attacked. With everyone there I felt very safe and my curiosity got the better of me. I walked over to the same door, in the sight of everyone, and opened it. The exact same thing happened to me again. It came up on top of me and forced me down and I tried to cry out in complete horror. It seemed that much more frightening that it would happen there in the comfort and safety of everyone. When I hit the floor my mom and Linda immediately called out my name and ran over to me. As soon as they touched me the paralysis was broken and I reached up and grabbed my mom and began sobbing. Everyone was shocked and didn't know what had happened. I explained to them what had occurred the previous day and everyone was stunned. Especially Linda. Nothing like that had ever happened before that she was aware off.
Linda began to tell the story of the old house. Apparently the previous resident had died in the house and it was several weeks before anyone came to investigate his disappearance. He was a recluse and was into black magick. He had purchased dozens of mannequins and had set them up all over the house. When the police came to check on him at request of a friend they found him dead with all these mannequins posed everywhere. They also found boxes of black candles in the basement which he apparently used in rituals.
Needless to say this spooked us all and she was reluctant to tell us so that we would not be frightened. I told her about their black cat and how I had thought it was behind the sun room door. She looked confused and said that they didn't have a cat and that her older son was allergic to them. So I asked who's cat it was, and they had no answer. We actually looked everywhere for that cat, just in case it had gotten in without their knowing, but we found nothing.
We were due to leave the next day, but I was too scared to sleep in my own bed and so I embarrassingly slept with my sister in her bed the last night. I was more than glad to leave the next morning!
Submitted By John Blatt

One winter afternoon my husband was finishing drywall in, the bedroom of, the new addition to our house. He was up on a ladder and needed a tool that was on the floor. He was just about to get down when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, one of our sons enter the room. My husband asked him to hand him the tool, which he did. When my husband reached to take the tool, he turned to look, shocked to see a boy, the same size and hair color of our oldest son, but not our son at all. My husband took the tool and asked the boy who he was. The boy said, "I'm Benjamin!" My husband asked him where he came from and he said, "I live here!" then he just faded away and disappeared into thin air.
Submitted by Jill Moore

When I was 13, my family moved into an old house in Wharton, New Jersey. At first it was exciting, exploring the old house, from the dirt basement, with its' coal burning furnace, to the huge, open attic with its' windowless room in the center and the odd windowed staircase leading down into the bedroom my older sister and I shared. But, pretty quickly the excitement of exploring died. Muffled voices and loud bangs in the basement kept us out of there.
Footsteps on the attic stairs at night made us keep that door shut. And, the frequent sounds of a dinner party late at night in what was now our family room, kept all of us kids upstairs in our beds until daylight.
We had lived there a few months when my little sister started complaining that someone was coming into her room at night and moving her toys around.
I think we all laughed at her when she asked if we were doing it. None of us kids got out of bed at night in that house! Rita was just 7 years old, but she was one of those neat kids. Everything had a place and she kept her room very tidy. If a toy was not put away, it was noticeable.
Things continued to be moved in her room every few nights for the next month or so. Then one night, we all woke to horrible screams and the sound of running down the hall! Rita had woke during the night and, feeling someone watching her, sat up. There, in the corner, stood a little boy, crying. "He looked real," she said, " except he was glowing white." She let out a scream and ran down the hall to our parent's room. Whoever the sad little boy was, he continued to come into Rita's room now and then and play with her toys at night. We wondered who he might have been, how he had died and why he stayed in the house.
For a long time, Rita was the only one to see the little boy. Then one night, he appeared to my older sister. Donna was home alone and before going to bed, she rinsed out a glass in the kitchen sink. As she turned off the water, she looked out the window above the sink. You could see the detached garage from the kitchen window and Donna said she saw a small white light glowing in the garage. That was odd because there was no light in the garage.
In fact, there was no wiring in the garage. As she stood there watching, the light began to move toward the front of the garage. Donna froze, watching as the light came closer to the open garage door. As it moved into the yard, Donna could see that it wasn't just a small light, it was the shape of a young boy. She watched as the boy moved across the yard until it was beneath Rita's bedroom window. As he looked up, Donna could see that he was crying.
We lived in that house for almost 2 years. A lot of strange things happened there. Some I have forgotten, others I wish I could forget. But the sad little boy crosses my mind now and then. I wonder if he has ever found peace or if he still plays with whoever's toys are in that back bedroom.
Submitted by Patty DeWald