Spooky Ghost stories!

Discussion in 'Et Cetera, Et Cetera' started by D_N Flay Table, Feb 12, 2007.

?

Do you Believe in ghosts?

  1. yes!! GHOSTS ARE REAL!

    6 vote(s)
    50.0%
  2. no!! I dont believe

    6 vote(s)
    50.0%
  1. D_N Flay Table

    D_N Flay Table New Member

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    I had an idea for this post from SomeGuyOverThere
    ............

    Do YOU believe in ghosts?

    got any stories?
     
  2. Onslow

    Gold Member

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    Haven't you heard? I am a ghost.



    End of story.
     
  3. Belly_Dancer

    Belly_Dancer Member

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    Couldn't vote. This, like many supernatural questions, is one I simply don't have enough evidence to make a decision about, either way.
     
  4. Rikter8

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    Yep.
    Believer. Seen the devil when I was very young, and the hole that he crawled out of. Gives me goosebumps to this day.

    Had another supernatural event happen to me YEARS later, but wont go into it - dont want it coming back...AND...half of you wouldnt believe it anyway, so there .

    C
     
  5. Ethyl

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    I can't answer the poll because I don't know but i've had some odd experiences that defied explanation.
     
  6. B_NineInchCock_160IQ

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    No. I don't.

    The way the poll is going so far, only 33% wouldn't believe you.
     
  7. Pecker

    Pecker Retired Moderator
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    I do believe in Heavenly messengers but I don't believe in ghosts.
     
  8. No_Strings

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    I don't believe it right now, but if someone can show me evidence one way or the other, I would change my opinion

    I have had a few very strange expeiences however
     
  9. B_big dirigible

    B_big dirigible New Member

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    It depends a bit on exactly what a ghost is. It's hard to cite an example.
     
  10. Heather LouAnna

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    Ghosts bore me. :rolleyes:
     
  11. buddy629

    buddy629 Member

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    Me too. There is evidence, subjective and objective data, to support either viewpoint. Myself, I can say 'yes' and 'no'. An interaction between the realm we live in and a realm that may or may not exist by something/someone who may or may not exist. No one will ever know. Unless you die...but then you can't tell anyone....or can you? :rolleyes:
     
  12. Channelwood

    Channelwood New Member

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    No, and I do have a ghost story.

    Without going into excruciating detail, suffice it to say that I saw a ghostly apparition in a spooky deserted setting. For a full 60 seconds as I approached it I saw, in ever closer detail, a full body "ghost" that could have no other possible explanation. Until the very last second when I reached it, it fell precisely into that "experience that defies explanation" category. Had I not gotten as close to it as I eventually did, I would swear up and down, hand on heart, on my sainted Mother's grave that I had seen a ghost.

    It turned out to be something completely natural, and rather banal.


    Ghosts, spirits, demons, angels, ethereal beings ... the evidence for their existence is as insubstantial as their supposed forms.
     
  13. agnslz

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    I don't know whether I truly believe in ghosts, or not, but I've always loved listening to a good ghost story. I also enjoy watching anything to do about ghosts on television. I guess I have more of an interest in the idea of ghosts, than I do a belief in them.
     
  14. B_Think_Kink

    B_Think_Kink New Member

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    I am petrified by the thoughts of ghosts existing... I can watch pretty much any horror movies as long as it doesn't have ghosts in it.
     
  15. SpeedoGuy

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    I don't know if ghosts exist or not but I've experienced a few pretty spooky things in my time.

    The spookiest came during a 2003 raft trip through the Grand Canyon, of all places. Our group camped one night on a small beach near the confluence of the Little Colorado River and the main Colorado. Though it was quiet, peaceful and beautiful, after sundown I found I couldn't sleep that night. I tossed and turned in my sleeping bag for hours because of an uneasy feeling that kept creeping over me each time my eyes closed. There was a sense of disaster and death around me that I couldn't shake off and I basically laid awake all night looking at the moon.

    The next day I mentioned my discomfiture to one of the raft guides and his faced turned white as I explained what I'd felt. He then told me that in 1956 a terrible mid-air collision had happened between two airliners over that spot and more than 100 people were killed. Bodies and flaming airplane parts had rained down all over the area where we'd camped.

    Grand Canyon Collision

    TWA & United collision over Grand Canyon
     
  16. SomeGuyOverThere

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    Just to claify before anyone thinks I'm a ghost hunter or something, I don't believe in ghosts, or atleast in the idea that ghosts are dead people, even though I have two rather good ghost stories myself and very clear memories of meeting and playing with an uncle who died two months before I was born.

    Personally I think that ghosts are probably a mix of hysteria and some sort of magnetic fluctuations perhaps effecting our brainwaves, or something along those lines. I do not think that 'ghosts' are conscious things, or actual dead spirits as I do not believe in any sort of life after death. Perhaps it is some sort of strong memory or imprint, I don't know. I'm sure that one day science will bother taking it really seriously and figure it out.

    Anyway, what most people will be reading this post for is my ghost stories; they are true as far as i'm aware, I can attest to this as I was in both of them, the first story thoguh is mainly from my mother, so she may well have been exaggerating, but I doubt she lied, the second one I remember very clearly. So here goes:

    The Man with the Towel on his Head

    It was not a dark and stormy night, more a night like any other, and I was a young boy, laying in bed falling asleep.

    My bed was up against a sort of wall/cupboard in my bedroom on the second story of my parents house. The house is over a hundred years old, and was built as the house for the farmer who owned the surrounding land, which had by then been built on, creating a fairly nice part of St Austell(known locally as "snozzle") in Cornwall.

    I was laying there, dreading school in the morning, and trying, as boys of that age do when they don't like what comes in the morning, to stay awake as long as possible. I turned over and looked up at the ceiling. Silence. There was an unsettled feeling in the room however, the type that sends a chill down to the small of your back, and in this moment, from the wall to my left, a man came, arms outstretched in a yearning fashion, with bandages over his head, hovered strait over me, his legs passing through me, as he hovered for the door and out into the hallway.

    Pandemonium. Parents summoned, and I poured out the story about the "man with a towel on his head" to my mother. She was concerned, but put me back to sleep. As far as child-me was concerned, this was the end of it, what she told me later however, was the rest of the story:

    My mother's family has a bit of a history when it comes to such encounters (theres quite a few in the family lore), and she called in a "psychic" that she knew of called Bob White. He was going to come around in a little while (I don't know the exact timeframe), in the mean time, my mother did some enquireing around the locals, and was told the story of a wounded soldier who had come home from "a war" (the local legend isn't specific apparently), become lost in the woods and was found and killed by witches (who werent that uncommon in cornwall), his body was buried somwhere on the site of the house that we just so happened to be living in (later we hypothesised it must have been under the extension at the back of the house, as that whole part of the house had an inexplicably bad feeling about it, full of dread and cold).

    So, Bob White, after perhaps a few months made his visit (I should probably ask for the exact details), he "drew out" the spirit and asked it what happened and why it was there, supposedly he recounted the same story that my mother had been told by locals (Bob wasn't a local I should add, and was therefore an "emmit" and not to be trusted). He then layed the spirit to rest and that was pretty much the end of it.

    Later however, my grandparents from Scotland stayed with us a while, before driving back up to Scotland (quite a trip). Their journey back was full of near accidents, and minor disasters (nobody has ever told me exactly what happened), and the car apparently smelled of rotting flesh for the whole trip.

    When they got back to their house, things started happening - doors slamming, trinkets and plates that had been sitting on sideboards for years would suddenly fall down, and the house become cold and filled with dread.

    My uncle told my mother about this, and she once again (now having a bit more faith) called Bob White and asked him to deal with it. My grandma (RIP) was a rather suspicious woman however, and wouldn't let him in the house, so he stood on the pavement outside, and drew out the ghost from there, the same inujured soldierfrom our house had made the trip back with them. This time Bob wasn't quite as nice aobut the whole proceedings and we never heard from the man with a towel on his head again, and thats probably for the better.



    I realise that I'm surrounded by sceptics, and I'm sceptical myself, so I've been carefull to point out what I can't personally verify. What I know is:
    • There was some sort of apparition in my Room
    • My mother called Bob White about it (atleast once)
    • Bob White was a self-proclaimed "Psychic" who delt with the paranormal (independantly verified by my cousin, who met him before, and hadn't heard the story until after I told him)
    • It's unlikely he would have been able to hear about local legends very easily. The Cornish can be pretty closed, and my mother got it from elderly people who she knew locally.
    So take from that what you will, it may all be true, it may be half true, my family has a history of both the paranormal and also damn good storytelling (exaggeration for the sake of a good tale).

    The next one I remember very very clearly, and I still have a phobia about windows at night (I have to have the curtains drawn, I hate them) but it's more likely to be simple hysteria. It happened, by the way, in the same house as the man with the towel on his head.

    The Moon at the Window

    Many times as a child i would get up in the night to go to the toilet. Still dreary I'd get out of bed, and walk the short distance down the upstairs landing, past a window which looked into our neighbour's back garden, to get to the toilet.

    Tonight however, things were different. I had awoken, but I wasn't all that desperate for the toilet, still I got out of bed and left my room anyway. As I tip-toed into the hallway, I paused to close my door. When I turned around I heard a voice, a voice like the wind wrappoing around the side of a building in a gale, but the weather was calm and the voice was quiet, no more than a murmour, I didn't hear it at first but then it spoke again, loader. It said my name. Not the shortened nickname I go by, it whispered my full name, something only my mother would call me by when I was in trouble. The whisper turned into a a word, and then a shout, there was nobosdy in the hallway, but there was a strange light at the window, I moved towards it.

    And there, I will never forget, was something burned into my memory for all time, it still gives me a chill down my spine. There was the moon, framed, perfectly in the window. It was a clear ngiht, and the stars were out, a beautiful land dreadfull sight, for this moon, framed so perfectly was also a perfect monstrosity - it had eyes of burning fire, and a mouth wrapped into a sneer, it locked me in a dread gaze and once again whispered my name. It laughed, a terrible laugh, it echoed like from a tunnel, but it howeled like the wind, an awful noise, and as it laughed it started moving, closer and closer, blocking out the sky, blocking out the houses, blocking out the neighbours year, as it crashed into the side of the house, laughing this inhuman laugh as the house shattered around me.

    I fell over, arms over head, screaming and screaming, and the next thing I remember is my father holding me, he found me, wrapped up in a ball in the landing, screaming my head off, and he just sat there holding me.

    To this day, I hate windows at night, especially when they catch the moon, whenever it startes getting dark, I close the curtains and pull the blinds.


    I'm prone to putting this one down to a super-realistic waking dream, which I only woke up from when my dad found me, but it still creeps the fuck out of me as I remember it very clearly, more clearly than I remember getting up this morning.

    There are a couple of other ghost stories from my family's lore book, but I can't verify them at all (as most of the protagonists are themselves dead by now), and I don't remember them very well.
     
  17. B_big dirigible

    B_big dirigible New Member

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    Those should be on the Fortean Times "It Happened To Me" forum,
    FT - It Happened To Me
    There's some deeply weird shit there, mixed in with a lot of silly stuff.
     
  18. SomeGuyOverThere

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    Oh god, not FT.

    I read that for the sheer hilarity.
     
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