submitted 5 hours ago by blargnog
It’s hard to explain without sounding crazy, I keep trying but I just know I sound like one of those crystal waving loonies. I can sense, and sometimes see, paranormal entities. They aren’t well-defined, mostly hazy figures or unnatural shadows, but sometimes, if they are strong and angry enough they can look nearly as real as any person. The only reason I’m not knocking down the doors of the nearest insane asylum is because I’m not the only member of my family that can do it. My dad and I are the strongest, I guess, but my brother isn’t exactly blind to them either. My mom and sister have nothing, and I’m glad for that. With the talent of “seeing” comes, sometimes, a gift for driving things away, exorcism if you will. And these things don’t like being forced away. But, I digress.
The ability to see these demons, ghosts, fey, whatever you want to call them truly is a freakin’ curse. Because it makes you stand out, it draws a target for creepy shit right on your back. It never stops, never goes away. And believe me, trying to work any job when you can see the skeletons hiding in people’s closets are not a fun thing, let alone trying to be a minimum wage checkout clerk in a major grocery store.
Here, let me explain what I mean. There is the older guy who comes in; he’s probably in his mid-fifties to early-sixties, and he looks like he’s somebody’s grandpa, albeit a Vietnam veteran, soldier of fortune battle-grandpa. He’s got silvered brown hair, tanned skin, a tall and trim physique, a jovial soft-spoken voice and friendly seeming eyes. He kinda reminds me of that one neighbor we’ve all had at one time or another, the one that is nice as hell but just a little too in to the patriotic expressions of any holiday. The guy that has an American flag on every piece of clothing he owns, has more guns than a National Guard armory but buys all the little kids on the block snow cones from the ice cream truck if he sees it go past. Yeah, him. He’s in every day it seems, just buying a few groceries for the day and talking to us employees. Just a nice seeming guy.
It’s what follows him around that really gets to me.
He has a hitchhiker, you see. Well, hitchhikers to be more accurate. They are ghosts that latch on to you because you meant something to them. Little kids usually have them if a parent dies or people who’ve had a spouse die; hell I’ve seen people with their best friends clinging to them if they were close enough. But hitchhikers sometimes cling for other reasons.
I’ll never forget when I noticed him and his passengers. I was just about to come on shift after my lunch break and I was turning the corner from the backroom of the store and onto the main sales floor when I bumped him. He reached out a hand to steady me because I nearly ass-planted like the graceless wonder I am with a small chuckle. When he did I saw her, his hitchhiker. This girl was, at that time, the most visible, real and tangible entity I’d ever seen.
She was a beautiful twenty year-old Vietnamese girl when she had died, and she died hard. Her naked body was bruised and stained with what I think, hell what I still desperately hope, was dirt. Blackened blood leaked from the gaping wound in her neck and stained her thighs as well. My mind shut down and I went into autopilot, mumbling some apology and scurrying towards the front end of the store. I firmly decided not to even think on what I had seen and to just pretend that nothing had happened.
I should have quit right then.
You see, like I said, he comes in every day. And every day for the past two months the hitchhiker has been a different girl. They are always naked, always beaten and they are always visible around him. I’ve tried to pretend that I don’t see them, but I can’t help but stare in horror as he walks around the store chatting with the other employees in his neighborly way. Last night he came in just before the store closed and I recognized the girl following him, she was an Amber Alert two weeks ago, a seventeen year-old junior from a nearby town who vanished while jogging. As he loaded his purchases onto the conveyer belt he leaned forward so that only I could hear his voice.
“She’s the prettiest one yet, isn’t she? But not as pretty as you.”
He gave that friendly grandfather-like smile and paid for his groceries.
I don’t want to go into work today.
The Systelien Project
omg…..i dont know why this story gave me such bad luck…this is my second post of it….this story really hates me…..its a great story but it took me a week to get through it…..i have no idea why…then when i went to edit it…it was all miss matched…and ….jesus…..anyway….not my best but enjoy my blood sweat and tears. Because i def wanted to throw my laptop out of the window on this one….
This is really a amazing game and I couldn’t even make it through the first part! LoL! It needs our help to see the light of day!
HELP OUT the DreadOut Project by donating at Indie gogo
You can help vote for it on STEAM GREENLIGHT
Any little bit helps and it really has the great potential of being amazing when finished!
share , reblog, spread the word so the game can get made and we all aren’t just left with the demo.
One of the Movies i DEFINITELY want to see this year!
September 12th 2008 4:23pm. A Metrolink commuter train with 225 aboard slams into Union Pacific freight train on winding route in Chatsworth. It left 24 people dead and almost 150 injured.
On of those who died in that horrible accident was Charles Peck.Medical examination of his body showed that he had died quickly after the collision, almost instantaneously.
But for hours after his death, his family received a total of 35 calls from his cell phone.
At 9:08PM nearly five hours after the crash, Peck’s fiancé Andrea Katz received one of those calls. But when she answered, all she heard was static. Despite hearing nothing from the other side she told him to hang on and that help was on the way.
Whenever they tried to call him back all the calls were routed to the voicemail.
When the rescue efforts stopped at the scene and the rescue workers turned to the grim task of recovery another call came from his phone and the search crews decided to trace it. They found it had come from the first train, so they went back to scour the rubble in hopes of finding him alive. The last phone call came from Charles Peck’s phone at 3:28AM, almost an hour before they found his lifeless body.
This story made national news when it happened and has now become very well known. A few weeks earlier I myself had a close shave with death and had been in the hospital for a week with Cardiology issues. While I was there a case management services person had visited me and offered help with getting my affairs in order in case the unexpected might happen. I don’t remember how we came to the topic of the paranormal but she eventually stayed a while and told me some amazing stories. She used to be a caregiver at a hospice and had experienced amazing things. There are extraordinary paranormal happenings that occur at the end of life of terminal patients.
Although the stress that had put me in the hospital to begin with was not pleasant, I knew God had brought me there for a reason.
This I am sure was one of them.
In the last few months of research that I have made in the area of the supernatural and the end of life I have been astonished, amazed and comforted. I am gathering these astonishing stories together in a book which I am tentatively calling, “Ushered through the Veil”. One of the most frequent phenomena that occurs at the end of life with terminal patients is the same occurrence that happened to the family and fiancé of Charles Peck.
Phone calls from the dead.
Sometimes like in the case of Peck, the family receives a phone call from the phone of the deceased. It could come from a cell or a landline in the deceased’s uninhabited home. Other times just before the terminally ill patient dies they receive a phone call from a long departed loved one. In many instances the numbers had even been disconnected. But they still appeared on caller id.
Every time the living picks up the phone all they hear on the other end is static. There have been instances of those who receive the calls recording them only to find voices in the recording that were not perceptible to the human ear at the time.Here are two of the tales that I have received, one of each type.
Mark Prebost had lived a good long life and had outlives most of his family and friends. Tragically he had outlived many of his children as well in reaching the ripe old age of 93.
When he was diagnosed with prostate cancer he took it with a grain of salt. He would often say he lived longer than he would ever have thought, but still he would miss his family. He especially loved the parties.
The disease ravaged the elderly man and the pain was severe and constant. His elderly daughter and her children took care of him in his home, rotating the times they stayed with him until the cancer that had spread through his body finally took his life one cold October day. The daughter was relieved since her elderly father had gone through so much pain in the last few months, and even though she did not believe in an afterlife she comforted herself with the fact he was no longer suffering.
His funeral was sparse since he had few friends and relatives left alive. And after the funeral those who did attend went to the daughter’s house for a memorial service and dinner. As the night wore on they kept getting phone calls with dead air. Finally the daughter noticed the caller ID. The calls were coming from her father’s house. There was no one there, she had the keys. They received a few more calls during the evening and she let the answering machine pick them up.
The next day out of curiosity she reviewed the final two phone calls that the machine had recorded. She heard on the tape the faint voice of her father saying, “It’s ok Margie, I’m ok” and “Your Momma is with me, all is good”
Like so many EVPs the speech is faint and hard to hear. But Marge was sure of what she heard. Her father was saying goodbye and letting her know that he still existed in some form. A form that was safe, happy and with the wife that he had loved and lost so many years ago.
It did not look good for Lisa. The teenager had gone through years of treatment but the anguish of the chemotherapy seemed to be all for naught. The leukemia had finally overwhelmed her body and she was in the last days of her short young life.
Her father sat in vigil beside her, holding her hand and wiping her brow as she sweat while the final battle raged within her fragile body.
Her mother had passed a few years earlier in a horrific car crash. In those last days her father sat by powerless as Lisa cried out for her mother. He tried to comfort her but it seemed that his presence, even though ever caring, was not enough.
As the father sat with her on her last night with a nurse by her side the phone rang. He left Lisa a lone with the nurse for a few moments to answer it, but on the other side there was a large amount of static. He thought for a second that through the static he had heard a woman’s voice say something but it was indiscernible. After he turned the phone off he checked the caller ID to see who it was that had called.
The answer stopped him in his tracks.
The phone number was that of his house five years ago. The number had long been disconnected, right after the death of his wife. He tried to call back but got the familiar robotic woman’s voice advising him that the number was indeed no longer in service.
Immediately he was called back into the room by the nurse. His daughter was passing. She died within a few minutes of the mysterious phone call.
A phone call that he still believes was made by his long deceased wife. And upon reflection he is sure the faint words he had heard through the static had said, “She will be safe with me”.
NOTE: My stepfather lives in a super small town outside if corpus christi texas called “Odem” It really is one of those everyone fucking knows everyone because they all grew up from like kindergarten ‘n’ shit. His really old friend had passed away he had a brain anurysm suddenly. The next day my step dad had a voicemail from the dead friend…all the voicemail said was “Hey Robert…this is Steve” and that was it…My step dad had known and everything that his friend had passed and showed everyone the voicemail so they could see, everyone determined yea , that it was in fact Steve….leaving voicemails from beyond the grave…..My step dad always has some weird shit happen to him, my mom thinks he’s sensitive to stuff like that….anyway….true story.
Borley Rectory -
Built in 1863, Borley Rectory has been described at the most haunted house in England. It was built on top of an ancient monastery and hauntings on the location were well known before the house was even built. The most common ghost sighting was that of a ghostly nun who was seen walking a path that became known as “The Nun’s Walk”. This spirit quickly became a nuisance to the owners of the newly built house as she took to startling guests by peering in through the windows. According to the history of the area the ghost is that of a nun who fell in love with a monk from the old monastery. When the two eloped they were both tracked down and executed with the nun being walled into the cellar of the monastery. She wasn’t the only ghost to appear in the house though, she was eventually joined by the apparition of a coach and horses that would race up the drive way.
The next set of owners tried to find a way to stop the haunting so they brought a psychic investigator to the house to speak to the spirits. This triggered poltergeist activity. Objects were smashed and thrown at the investigator until he was forced to leave. That set of owners only lasted two years in the rectory before they moved out.
When the next owner, Revd Lionel Foyster, moved into the house the ghosts took a liking to his young wife. It became a regular occurrence that objects would be thrown at her and messages would appear carved into the walls addressed to her. Eventually an exorcism was performed on the house which succeeded for a few days before the haunting came back, this time worse than before. Strange music would be heard from the church, the communion wine would turn into ink, the servant’s bells rang on their own and the Foyster’s child was attacked by “something horrible”. The attack on their child was enough to make the family leave and no one would rent the house.
The psychic investigator returned to the house to the house to try and preform one more paranormal investigation. During a séance a spirit told him that a grave would be revealed when the house burned down. Exactly 11 months later an oil lamp was accidently tipped over and the house caught alight. Witnesses to the blaze claimed to have seen ghosts wandering amongst the flames and the nun stood staring through one of the windows. The skeletal remains of a woman were found buried in the cellar of the house and in an attempt to put the spirit at rest the remains were given a Christian burial. This didn’t work and strange happenings are still reported around the ruins of the burnt out rectory.
Wow…this movie was interesting….. I think the reason why i found so much interest in it was because i run a horror blog. This movie of course as you can see by the title focus’s a lot on the shadow people phenomenon. It references too various historical encounters of shadow people from “DJINN” to “RAVEN MOCKER” to “HAT MAN” etc….I really enjoyed that about this movie. With a film style of “The Fourth Kind” using interviews and random “archival footage” to explain, i think you guys might enjoy this one…entertainment wise…I found myself googling some of the phenomenon they were speaking of during the flick and finding some pretty interesting stuff….
Horror Movie Experience- For the Weenies.
3 out of 5 Zombies.