I was the night watchman at an abandoned mental hospital turned state park for a summer in college. The only creepy thing that happened was one night I was with one of the state park police and we saw flashlights in one of the buildings. Kids constantly broke in and other people broke in to gut the old buildings of any copper they could find. So as I was saying one night we saw flashlights moving around so we went in. The officer pulled her gun and flashlight and in we went. We could her footsteps on the floor above us and we slowly and quietly went upstairs. We checked every room and found nothing. Then we heard footsteps above us again. This happened for a few floors until we were on the top floor below the roof. We heard footsteps up on the roof so we went up there. Still nothing. We never found anyone or any indication that anyone had been there. It was friggin creepy.



When I was a teenager (20+ years ago) my friends and I trespassed on a condemned insane asylum called Eloise in Southeastern Michigan (here you go http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eloise_%28psychiatric_hospital%29).

The worst thing wasn’t that it was at night with shitty flashlights, the dirty patient records scattered on the floor, the broken furniture, the torn up walls, the leaking water pipes, or the huge fungal bloom from the leaking water.

The worst part was finding a tunnel and following it to a place inside where power was still on. There was a light, an ominous looking double doors… and an active security camera.

It was like… why is this here? What’s going on?

Later on, I found out that the asylum and a nearby hospital were connected. However, the wikipedia page says it closed in 1984… but we were there several years after that.

I think I saved one of the patient records somewhere.



My crawlspace (like a basement attic) has “I don’t like the soldiers from (unreadable) town, if you ever see them (I forget what else is after that)” written with white chalk on the wall. It looks like a kids handwriting and it couldn’t have been a room because the ceiling is only a few feet high. Creeps me out. If this post gets any attention I’ll take a picture of it and maybe you guys can decipher it.

Edit: http://i.imgur.com/vD6V6tS.jpg here, sorry for the wait.



My two friends and I visited an old jail (a local company did regular tours.) The jail used to regularly keep women and children there, and there were a lot of deaths, especially in the winter. During our tour, my friends and I went inside one of the cells just as the tour group moved along to the next section of the jail. We were making stupid jokes, but the vibe was super creepy. We finally decided to catch up… except we were locked in. Nobody was there to do it (the group had moved on before we all entered completely) and the doors were NOT self-locking. Someone would have had to push the bolt across from the outside. We couldn’t get out. We ended up having to shout for help to have someone come and set us free.

Almost ten years later, none of us have an idea what happened…



I used to pick up dead bodies for a funeral home. One stormy night, I was in one of the coolers putting a guy on the shelf. In a matter of a couple seconds, the following happened:

  • The guy on the next shelf up shifted and his hand fell down in my face.
  • The doorstop slipped and the cooler door closed behind me.
  • The power went out and the lights went off.

All purely coincidental, but I still puked in my pants.



when i was in high school living in seattle, ghost hunting (visiting abandoned places) was a frequent activity for us.

There is a place north of seattle called 13 Steps to Hell. The story is that a satanic family once lived in a house where they had a cemetery deep in their backyard. These stones date back at least 100 years. The family built thirteen steps into the cemetery with two giant pointed pillars at the top. Supposedly – each step down would give you hallucinations, you would hear things, feel things, and on the final step you would see fire (hell).

The steps continue to be bulldozed because the current residents surrounding the area probably do not appreciate late night visitors. But the steps always seem to reappear – I’ve seen them.

Our first journey – it took us nearly four hours of driving and walking to find it. There are no clear directions anywhere online (at least at that time). We accidentally stumbled upon a path just as we were about to give up. It is about a mile hike deep into the woods. Along the overgrown trail you have a lot of barriers to duck under and over and there are random things everywhere; such as crashed cars in the middle of the woods, abandoned items as well.

After 30 minutes of hiking in the creepy darkness of this overgrown forest, we were going to head back when my friend pointed to me and said “SHIT, look where you are standing.” I looked down and I was unknowingly standing between the pillars and on the first step down to the cemetery.

At that point I was not going to walk down the steps – but I did explore the cemetery. My friends explored further down and started yelling and screaming – they told us stop scaring them – even though we were at least 200 feet away from them. We left promptly after they ran up and insisted we leave. Never talked about it again.

I went back 5 times after with friends who had heard and I was the only one who knew how to get there, so I gladly took them. Nothing creepy happened on those trips.

One year later, some friends asked me to take them. We went at midnight one evening and went there, looked around the cemetery – nothing out of the ordinary. I went down to the cemetery and rubbed one gravestone so I could read it. Some satanic symbol. We were standing in a circle debating how much longer we would stay when all of the sudden a 3 foot log comes flying at us and lands in the middle of the circle. We all look around and notice that no one from the group is missing – so it wasn’t any of our friends. Thirty seconds later all of this shit is flying at us. I look at them and just say “run!” We started running back through the overgrown trail with logs, branches, rocks, etc being thrown at us. I’ve never ran so fast in my life. At one point my friend looks back and sees two giant yellow eyes after us and all we heard were growling noises running after us. Ducking under fallen trees, running through sticker bushes and falling several times we run to the car get in and drive away as fast as possible.

None of us said a word to each other for at least an hour. And I have never been back since.



My mother in laws house is pretty creepy. Lived there for a little over a year when me and my wife were younger. Built in something like 1900, it was originally a schoolhouse, but turned residential sometime after WWII.

A few of my wife’s stories are pretty chilling. Standing in front of the house, to the left, there’s a shed/garage, and about 80-90 feet behind that a large barn. She claims every so often she would look to the top of the barn and notice a bright light, even though that area of the barn was cut off due to the access door being nailed shut ( there was a fire up there at some point ). Her mother went to investigate, found no signs of squatters, only a load of spiders and a raccoons nest.

Once, the large stereo in the living room kept turning on. Thinking it was the remote malfunctioning, she took the batteries out, but it still kept turning on. She claims after she unplugged the stereo, the display was still flickering on and off for 4-5 minutes.

There was also the time her mother’s music box got inexplicably wound and started playing at 2:30 am. She unwound it, wrapped it in a towel and shoved it in her drawer. Two weeks later, it happened again.

I once heard a woman scream “Get Out!!!” While feeding my son. He was fresh out of the hospital, we were on the bed watching TV, I had him on my chest and my back to the wall, the bedroom door was shut. All of a sudden, I hear a woman scream GET OUT!!! I placed my son in his crib and ran downstairs, thinking her aunt, whom we were living with at the time, was in some sort of trouble. I get downstairs to find all the lights off, her aunt asleep in her bed, and no God damn body else there.

Also regularly heard children running, though my son at the time wasn’t old enough to walk. One time in particular, heard what sounded like a LARGE group of children coming up the stairs, laughing hysterically at something.



My dad worked at a mental hospital that used to be connected to a nuns home ,that was abandoned, by underground passage. He says that one night he was walking down there when he saw a praying nun. He walked by her and said hello. She did not acknowledge him.

My dad does not believe in ghosts, but he says there was a nun down there that night.



I’ve got a few.

The phone connected to nothing

My mom and dad moved in to a small house, old, 1940/50’s something. Back in those days they had 1 phone in a house and it was usually in a central location so they had a thing called a Phone Niche, a small shelf or pedestal built into the hall or wall near the center of the house somewhere.

Anyway my mom, dad and my older sister (I was not yet born) moved in to this old creepy house and it had one of those and on it sat an old fashion antique phone. The phone itself wasn’t actually connected to anything. You could pick up the entire unit and carry it around so there was no phantom connection under the phone or anything but every once in a while if you picked it up you could hear a dial tone. My mom swore to my dad, if that fucking phone ever rang, they were moving out.

Creepy Rackley house

This is why me and my sister called it for the fact that our landlords were Mr and Miss Rackley. Mr Rackley was a nice old man, Miss Rackley was a vindictive witch who hated people being in “her” house. I don’t recall the specific reason that Mr Rackley was renting it out but IIRC it had something to do with medical bills they needed money to pay for. You see, Miss Rackley was pretty sick. I don’t remember with what.

Anyway, at some point after moving in Miss Rackley bit the dust and Mr Rackley continued to live in his apartment and let us rent the house. That’s when shit started getting crazy.

My mom would be laying in bed when she’d hear someone open the deadbolt on the front door, walk in through the house, and sit in bed with her. She’d turn over expecting to see my dad back from work and only see nothing. No one, she’d get up and the front door would be wide open.

So someone was unlocking the door, walking through the house and sitting next to her in bed, yet no one was there. This happened a few times.

My mom started having dreams of walking into the kitchen and seeing Miss Rackley. She’d be covered in blood and she’d point at my mom and scream at the top of her lungs GET OUT!!!*

Now I was a very little guy at the time but I saw a few things like things standing at the end of my bed and my sisters saw the same thing from time to time but being little we didn’t understand that we were seeing something only that there was something there and it scared the crap out of us.

One morning I woke up from a fairly uneventful night, walked into the backyard to find the entire back yard absolutely covered in bones. I don’t mean there was a few bones back there, I mean the entire back yard was fucking blanketed in cow bones, cat bones, dog bones. I don’t think we saw any human bones but I don’t think my parents checked too hard.

Before this I had uncovered 1 cow skull once while digging in the garden. Never saw this amount of skeletal remains before in my life and at 32 I haven’t seen it since with the possible exception of that crazy church made out of bones in France or something.

Needless to say, we moved… but things didn’t get better.

The House on Villa

Fresno CA, if you want to look it up. This house, to me, was amazing. We moved in and the previous owner had left not only an awesome fat cat named Lucky but the garage had a box full of HeMan toys including the entire Castle GreySkull play set! FUCKING SCORE!

My sister’s weren’t so lucky. By this time it was 3 of us, My older sister me and then my younger sister. I had my own room being the only boy and my sisters had shared a room at the back of the house. My older sister kept waking everyone up in the middle of the night screaming. She said there was someone in her room. She kept seeing a shadow of someone standing over her bed. Then she’d see lights racing around on the wall and hear something stomping around in the attic.

I was a little older by now and skeptical as all hell about everything supernatural so I insisted the lights she saw were merely headlights of people driving down the street. The shadow of the man on the wall was nothing but shadow of the tree outside and the thumping in the attic was probably just her imagination. To back up my claims I pointed to my little sister who also slept in the same room and never once experienced anything. Of course she was very young and might not have noticed.

So one night as an experiment we traded beds. I slept in my older sisters bed and she slept in mine. The only thing you hear in my room was my Hamster running on his wheel.

So there I was, in my sisters bed, listening and watching. Nothing. I Fucking knew it! She was making it all up I thought. Then it started. A shadow moved on the wall and I heard something stirring just above my head in the attic. I layed there very still thinking I must have imagined it when I heard it again. It was a very deliberate foot step. Then, slowly one after another Klop, Klop, Klop! across the ceiling. Something or someone was definitely up there doing something! I gave up my vigil and ran screaming into my parents room, waking them up and telling them someone was in the attic. Of course my parents didn’t give a shit and thought I was just being a typical scaredy cat kid. I went back to my room and me and my sister waited out the night.

Days went on and my sister went back to her room. Shit continued to happen and no one did a thing. Finally one day the family was out doing something and we came back home. Just above the front door there was a small vent and inside the vent was a kitten’s head kinda pressed up against the vent. The kitten was obviously VERY scared and wanted the FUCK out. HOW a kitten got up there is anyone’s guess.

So my dad has the brilliant idea of giving me a lighter for light and sending me up the portal into the attic…. in my sisters closet. I protested but was overruled as I was a kid and up I went. Dad hoisted me up and I sat with my knees on the upper shelf in my sisters closet with just the upper half of my body in the attic. My only light source, the lighter wasn’t doing much but there was light coming from the vents in various parts of the attic so I could see. I saw,…. nothing. Of course I didn’t DARE turn around and face the part of the attic that extended over my sisters room. All I did was look straight ahead towards where the little kitten sat scared and curled up in a ball.

I looked around to my sides a bit and saw an old wood burning stove, the kind you’d see in a really old house, a few boxes of god knows what and ahead of me about 8 or 9 feet, the kitten. I tried my damnedest to make the kitten come to me. It very slowly came crawling towards me and without thinking I nabbed the kitten and turned around to climb out of the fucking closet when I came face to face with this. I don’t know if it was a mask or what. It was back about 2 yards or so surrounded by darkness as there weren’t any vents in that part of the attic or something. It was entirely motionless. Didn’t move, didn’t blink didn’t do anything. It made no sound.. Nothing.

I straightened my body and me, and kitten, fell out of the closet to the ground and just above my head I heard a lot crash as if something had just pounced on my previous location. I looked behind me, eyes wide in fear, and the porthole to the attic had been closed.

I ran the FUCK out of the house with the kitten and didn’t return for 2 weeks, staying at my grandmother’s apartment with my sisters. I had succeeded in at least convincing them that something was up there. Finally being forced to come home eventually I didn’t ever go back into my sisters room. How they slept in there, I’ll never know.

Finally months later my mom and my sisters go out to the store. We’re gone for a while and my dad is left at home drinking beer and cleaning his pistol, fucking awesome combination as, while he was cleaning the thing it discharged into the attic. There was a screeching sound of some sort and something broke through the attic porthole in my sisters room and raced down the hole and out the open front door. Scaring the shit out of my now shitfaced dad.

My mom, my sisters and I came home that night after shopping to find all the neighbors in their front yards staring at our house with their mouths gaping open. My dad in the front yard with his pistol in hand. Apparently we had JUST missed it. I heard the story from my dad and our next door neighbor at the same time. My dad told his version of events and the neighbor told his. He was watering his lawn when he saw this thing emerge from our front door and run and break neck speed, on 4 legs, down the street and disappeared.

Now it’s entirely possible that my parents were in on this, they fabricated the whole thing including the neighbors involvement to make it appear genuine just to put our minds at ease that there was no monster in the attic any more as my dad had apparently shot it on accident. But man were they committed to the lie, as there was a gunshot hole in the ceiling in the living room and the piece of wood that covered the attic hole in my sisters closet was broken in half leaving splintery wood everywhere.



A friend of mine was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis and was so upset over it that she made a suicide attempt. She landed in the mental health wing of the big hospital, and I went to visit her one evening. Had a hell of a time finding the right place and felt like I’d walked through miles of increasingly decrepit hospital before I found the right wing. Went through a set of double doors and found myself staring down a dimly lit hallway with an incredibly creepy, weathered-looking old lady in a housecoat standing right in the middle of it.

I walked down the hallway nervously, not taking my eyes off of the old woman. She didn’t take her eyes off me, either. I flinched as I walked by her, but she didn’t move. Ten feet beyond her was the doorway to the waiting room of the ward I was looking for. I breathed a sigh of relief as I reached the doors, then glanced over my shoulder to see if the woman had moved.

She was right behind me, staring into my face. I don’t know how she managed to silently cover that ten feet just as fast as I had moved, but she did.



I grew up Christian and was still religious during the time my family and I lived in a home with what I believed to be multiple spirits. Since then I have become an agnostic atheist, but have been unable to revisit the home and debunk or further investigate. I was in middle school.

At the time, there were, at least, three separate facets that I noticed. In the kitchen of the home there was a sort of warm presence if I was alone and listened very carefully. Once, I heard a beautiful melody of bells-I looked at maps later to see if there was a church nearby that could account for it, but found nothing closer than 5 miles, and we lived in a heavily wooded area.

In the main body of the house (the first floor) there was something that felt somewhat mischievous in that weird, almost malicious but not quite way that a small child has. That one liked to hide things-once it was my mother’s engagement ring, which she finally got fed up and told it off over, and the ring appeared on her chest of drawers later that day, where she had checked and looked a dozen times already. While slightly annoying, it wasn’t threatening.

And then there was the thing in my bathroom, which was directly adjacent to my shared bedroom with my sister. I always had a bad feeling in there-it was this old bathroom, with carpet (weird, right??) and a clawfoot cast-iron tub. I always felt like I was being watched, whether I was bathing, making my daily ablutions, or using the toilet. Sometimes I’d talk to whatever it was, hoping to lay down the law, and it seemed to listen, although the uneasy feeling didn’t abate.

One night, I was terrified for some reason, and pushed myself back as far as I could against the wall and hid under the covers. That seemed to help, but I had no idea what it was doing if I did that, I realized, and so I pushed up the courage to crawl out from under the blanket and confront the thing face-to-face.

Standing in the doorway to my bedroom was a small boy in grayscale color with ugly purple traces. He stood there, staring at me, and I blinked; suddenly, he was gone, and in his place was a pulsing mass of the same colors, green and grey and purple like a violent thunderstorm rolling in place and menacing me.

That was all I could do. I shoved myself further back against the wall until it hurt and then curled up under the blankets again in terror. Eventually, I fell asleep.

On separate occasions, when my youngest brother was very young and recovering respiratory infections caused by our previous residence (which had black mold), my mother and stepfather’s bedroom was directly under mine. She said she’d hear footsteps from our room to his, and he’d stop coughing. She’d race up the stairs, my stepfather listening for returning footsteps, and find nobody in my brothers’ room-just them, sleeping peacefully.

I’ve been convinced for a long time that something bad happened there, and that the other spirits in the house were keeping the bad one at bay.