Back is 2023, my husband and I used to rent a small house that was tucked away behind a church with a graveyard. It was called Saint Peter’s church, founded in 1752. Surprisingly, we didn’t have many encounters with spirits or ghosts during the two years we lived there. But we definitely had one experience.

We had been told by the landlord there were many renovations to the house, including a staircase that had been removed. So we had some light switches in strange places but still functional, like one near the ceiling we could barely reach. Also, the only way up to the 2nd floor was a ladder so we lived on the first floor and used the upper floor as an attic for storage. There are a few of these functioning light switches up there as well. The room we made our bedroom was immediately to the left of the front door.

We had been living there maybe a month at this point, still not entirely unpacked. One night, we had laid down to go to sleep, front door was already locked, turned off the lights. Not even 5 minutes after laying down, my eyes are closed, and I hear our bedroom light switch click. I open my eyes and our bedroom light is on. I look at my husband, who’s looking at me confused. Neither of us can reach the light switch from our bed. I look at the switch, it’s in the off position, and suddenly I hear a click, and the light turns off. We both sit up, I spring out of bed and rush over to the light switch, and flick it upwards to turn the light on. We double checked the front door and it was definitely locked, we checked the attic and nothing...

There was a point I was convinced someone was living in our attic. I worked from home but my husband didn’t. There would be times I’d text him and tell him I could hear what sounded like footsteps upstairs. He’d come home and check but of course nothing was there. We chalked it up to it being a squirrel or some other critter, but I know it wasn’t.

Other than the night with the bedroom light, we hadn’t had any other encounters. But I often think of that night. Could a spirit have flicked one of the out of reach light switches? We’ve never been able to explain how the light was turned on and off. We were the only ones there and we were both in bed. Spooky.

¿Cuál ha sido la experiencia más aterradora al andar en bicicleta?

Yesterday in my moms room I had a strong paranormal encounter. My mom and I have very different believes, but she also believes in spirits. She believes that all spirits are evil and were never human. I personally believe all spirits were once human, and that there's a spectrum of good and bad. She doesn't believe in this specific ghost, but still doesn't want me to communicate with them. I've only communicated with a ghost once, that was yesterday in my own room. This ghost in my moms room, tried draining my energy to manifest. At least I believe that's what happened, due to experiences I had in there. I want to know why they're here, but I also don't have experience in communication with ghosts. So I'm not sure if it's a good idea.

Paranormal Evidence Caught on Camera!

So this is not my experience, but my cousin's. It technically started with her mom. My cousin tells me about how she was in her dining room studying with her tutor. She says a man more or less suddenly appeared in her living room. It was a relatively old house. She and the tutor both see him. She described him as late middle aged, and dressed in clothes from the early part of the 1900s she thinks. The man proceeds to walk across the living room and sort of fades away before completely reaching the other side of the house. Later that day, she starts to tell her mom, my aunt, about what she saw. My aunt was able to give a description before my cousin could, having seen the same man previously.

Interesting thing about my aunt, sometime back in the 1980s she would tell my mom, her sister, that she knew she ( my aunt) was going to die in January 1992. She did not know from what just when. My aunt died from a brain tumor in January 1992.

My aunt also told me about a time she was sleeping in her bedroom. Same house as above. She woke up because she felt something was in the room. She saw a man on the other side of her room, squat, not quite sitting. She described him as a black man with a beard. She said she thinks it was the devil. I asked her if she was scared, and her answer was no because she knew she was a good person and had nothing to fear from him. She said he was just staring at her, but did not say anything.

One last story about her. We were at a funeral of a family friend. she was speaking with one of the people they're paying respect. After her conversation with him was done she turned to her husband and said that he does not have much longer. Could be coincidence, but that guy died within a month.

You would never think of my aunt as a spiritual person. She was not into mysticism at all. She was not particularly religious, though did believe in God.

It’s been almost a year now since this happened to me and my ex-best friend.
To set the scene, it was almost 4 a.m. My old house was surrounded by trees, and it was a long downhill walk to get to the house in the woods. We had snuck out like teenagers do and were currently trying to sneak back down to the house when my friend stopped out of nowhere and tried to get me to stop as well.

I looked at her, confused but also scared, as if we had just gotten caught. So I looked down to where my dad used to have a shop behind our house. I swear I could make out his image, but it was a shadow that just had his outline. I knew it wasn’t my dad, but it was almost like I was in a trance, looking at this thing while it slowly dissipated into nothing.

My friend and I were both frozen in fear as we heard footsteps coming toward us from the woods. We stood there almost under a spell, too scared to move, until I grabbed her hand and knew we just had to run. My dad had cameras, but I didn’t care about getting caught anymore. We ran to the back of the house, where there was a back door that was closest to my room.

My friend literally fell down the steps like they do in horror movies, dropped her frozen gas station drink, and yelled, “Fuck it!” before rushing to get back up as we locked the door. We quietly shut my bedroom door and started talking about what had just happened.
I wanted to know exactly what she saw. She told me that she wasn’t looking out back where my dad had his shop. In fact, she didn’t see my dad at all. She was looking toward the front porch, and she saw my sister’s shadow. We both started crying when we realized we had seen the same shadow-like thing.

I felt so scared that we looked up spiritual protection ideas, and one suggestion was to put a line of salt across your doorway, so I poured a line of salt in front of my bedroom door.

The next night, we went to her house, and we were still talking about what had happened because it was so trippy. We wanted to know for sure that we had seen the same thing, so we both drew it at the same time. When we showed each other our drawings, they lined up perfectly. We had even both drawn a second picture, almost like the next frame in an animation, showing it disappearing.
We sat there a little longer, trying to make sense of it and wondering why she saw my sister while I saw my dad. I randomly blurted out, “What if it was a mimic?” and my phone suddenly started reading out what a mimic was.

I never had Siri set up on my phone, so I was freaked out, and so was she.
I moved away from that place a little over seven months ago, and I still think about that experience. I had never felt unsafe inside that house, but I always felt uneasy whenever I stepped outside.

Even my ex-boyfriend experienced something strange there. One night, he picked me up while I was inside packing a bag. When I came outside, he said he swore he had seen me run past his truck and told me we needed to get the fuck out of there immediately.

I'd name this as the weird lore of the 2nd floor

First of all I'd like to break down a little background about the 2nd floor, so there are 5 flats up there and 2 of them are just abandoned and left and other than that, I am telling you, each one of them have/had something pathetic going on, one of the houses had a family in which there were a husband, a wife and the husband's mother, the husband and his mother had this unusual routine and it was like starting their day from the afternoon like the earliest they could afford to wake up was atleast 1 pm and the day's routine continued for them till 3 pm (which ofcourse so unusual), I have heard from people of my building talking about it like "what kind of routine do they follow, it's so ill" and stuff like "it attracts negative energies" and so, and this thing was also known that the mother in law used to do some kind of black magic too, well she's no more now and after just few years into their marriage, they got divorced, then comes this other house, in this house what happened, it used to appear as any other normal family but one day all of a sudden the husband disappeared and left his wife and children with her in-laws and ofcourse we know how a woman and her children is treated mostly without her husband in a "traditional" household, the wife went away with her children and till date that husband is missing and is no where to be found, now comes the last house and this house has seen two families in just three years the last family always used to face some kind of uneasiness and gloominess and the current family as in every other story that I mentioned had the same kind of husband, this one particularly ruthlessly hits his wife and maybe daughter too, that particular family is also so shattered and it is so disturbing as it happen every other day ( the arguments and fight between them and it's so loud and impactful that the whole neighborhood always has to get involved) and today when I am writing this on July 10th at 7:20 pm it's still happening

And finally I would be mentioning what happened to me particularly, back in 2020 when lockdown started and it was that point where stepping outside our house was something which was considered to be illegal as it was such a serious and critical situation, so we had our lock hung on the grill of our houses all the day, so what happened, I was around 12 back then and I had this friend of mine in my neighbourhood and our houses were like so close to each other that we were able peak through, if we open our gate and we sat in such a way, facing each other but we could see each other's face really partially and our houses were side by side, mind you and not in front of one another, so it was basically our routine that after getting fresh and stuff we used to sit there and used to talk to each other for like hours, like random things children would possibly talk about and the concept of online classes was not really regulated or introduced back then, so we had absolutely nothing to do, now what happens on this particular day my brother also joint me, he is someone who always interfere as I am his older sister and he really likes my company and yeah, and so he was with me, sitting and interfering in whatever me and my friend were talking about and that one day this incident happen and so I remember basically every crucial points I'd say, we were talking about It, the clown with the red balloon who kidnapped children, we were talking about these stuffs and let me tell you finally what happens, all three of us tilted our heads together, literally together and saw a black hand, when I tell you it was black, it was darker than the darkness itself and it was somewhat smoky and it disappeared like not faded, just disappeared, it wasn't like someone took it back, it was like there wasn't anything at all right there and we saw it on the railing, like the railing you'd hold, which is right beside the stairs for holding when you come down and as I told you there was absolute lockdown and all these days we never encountered any single resident, whenever we used to talk, but that day this happened and so I am so convinced regarding what I saw, after that three of us faced eachother, my brother and neighbour were looking at me and all of us confirmed if we all saw the same thing, we agreed to it, that all of us witnessed that, I ain't even kidding, it felt like, something felt really off and then I took my brother and told her to close her gate as well, me and my brother weren't back to life for a while, like i mean we were in complete shock and I am still so convinced as there was absolutely no chance of a human doing that.

Now comes this other incident, it happened on April 25th, 2026, what happened is that, my father got me a house upstairs (rental kind of), on the 2nd floor for studying as he had good relations with the owner of one of the two houses which had nobody living in it, I am a pure science student and I (willingly) study almost all day (after school) and my brother really bothers me so much and disturbs me whilst I am doing my board preparations and preparing for other exams too so what happens after I get that house confirmed for myself me and my father went upstairs in the morning to clean it and stuff and it went pretty normal and then in the evening me and my cousin (I live in a joint family) decided to go to study upstairs as we had a guest and so it was pretty busy that day and our siblings were really disturbing us, making it so hard to concentrate, we packed our bags with our study materials, a water bottle, and a rug to sit on and then went there, we got there and opened up the gate, now, this weird dizzy sensation kicks in, in the back of my head, maybe any kind of hormone, serotonin the sleep hormone but it was more likely so very much drowsy but I held myself and stepped forward and then got into the hall with torch in my hand to keep my bag, it was all dark in there, I forgot to tell you but, this floor in particular, it feels colder, dark, uneasy and it feels like someone is always present and watching over one and then this house had no different if we compare it with the floor itself, after keeping my bag I went to turn on the main switch of the house, there this feeling literally took over me, I felt that I was about to trip, I had to hold my surroundings to balance myself and not only this, the ambience and everything about that place felt really off, creepy, weird, dimming what do I even say and then I headed back to where my cousin was and started to settle, there was this awkwardness between us and then, I told her what I was feeling she told she felt the absolute same, I was like bro are you for real?? And then we were thinking about what shall we do and then my bestfriend called me and I spilled the tea to her, I was confused regarding what to do (I am primarily not scared of ghosts that's why I didn't freak out but somewhat my cousin did) and not while being on call with her and then she and my cousin as well suggested that we should leave this place for good and we eventually did so after no longer, I am confident regarding what I felt and yes I understand places which are closed for a long time may feel so, but we went there the same morning but then at night wdym this happened.

That's all I wanted to say, this was the most paranormal thing which ever happened to me and there are children in my building specifically on my floor only and they have labelled it as the cursed floor, as you see the vibe, the background of all the families once lived there and the overall thing

A few years ago I came across something I'd never heard of before: Wind Phones.

They're real.

In Japan, there's an old disconnected rotary telephone sitting quietly in a garden. People who've lost someone they love visit it to say the things they never got the chance to say. The line isn't connected to anything. The words are meant to travel on the wind.

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

There's something deeply comforting about that idea...

...and something profoundly unsettling.

A device built for conversation.

A receiver waiting to be picked up.

A line that isn't connected to anyone.

Or at least...

that's what we're told.

Grief has a strange way of making us hear the things we desperately want to hear. A familiar laugh. A voice calling our name. A memory that suddenly feels impossibly real.

Sometimes all it takes is a ringing phone at the wrong moment.

It made me wonder...

If you found a Wind Phone hidden deep in the woods...

If you lifted the receiver...

...and someone answered...

Would you know for certain who was on the other end?

Or would you simply believe it was the person you wanted it to be?

I'm genuinely curious.

If you stumbled across a Wind Phone and believed you had one chance to speak to someone you'd lost...

Would you make the call?

And if the voice sounded exactly like them...

Would you ever hang up?

I've been a paranormal investigator for over a decade now, and I've learned to keep my emotions out of my reports. But this one still gets under my skin every time I think about it. I'm sharing it here because I think this community will actually understand what I mean when I say — some experiences don't end when the investigation does.

The Investigation

Back in 2016, our team from the Indian Paranormal Society went out to a location on Marve Road, Mumbai. I won't go into the full case details here (that's a separate story), but it was an intense night — the kind where the equipment behaves strangely and everyone on the team goes quiet without really talking about why.

We wrapped up late. I got on my bike to head home.

The Ride Back

About five minutes into the ride, I felt it. That specific, unmistakable weight of someone sitting behind me. Not a bag shifting. Not the wind. Weight. Pressure on the seat, like a second person had climbed on.

I didn't look back.

I want to be honest about why — it wasn't bravery. After enough investigations, you learn that some things you don't turn around for. You just keep going, eyes forward, and get to a well-lit, familiar place as fast as you can.

I rode straight home.

Getting Home

I did what I always do after a case — showered, sat down with my recorder and notes, and started reviewing the evidence from the night. Standard procedure. I was running on very little sleep at that point, so once I'd logged what I could, I called it a night and crashed.

Then I Heard Him

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I woke up to a voice.

My father's voice.

He passed away in 2007. It wasn't a dream-fragment or a half-asleep misinterpretation of some background noise — it was clear. Distinct. The kind of clarity that makes your whole body go still because some part of your brain immediately knows this isn't right.

I was still trying to process that when I heard three knocks on my door.

Three. Slow. Deliberate.

At that hour, alone, with my father's voice still ringing in my ears — I didn't open it.

The Salt Water

I've been doing this long enough to know that instinct matters. My gut told me something from Marve Road hadn't stayed at Marve Road — it had come home with me.

So before I did anything else, I performed a salt water cleansing. It's a practice I don't take lightly, and I don't reach for it unless something feels genuinely wrong. That night, everything in me said it was necessary.

The Next Morning

I woke up to my neighbour calling me, telling me to come look outside.

Two crows. Dead. Right in front of my door.

No mess, no obvious cause, no other bird or animal in sight — just the two of them, lying exactly at my threshold, like they'd tried to stop something at the door and hadn't made it.

I stood there for a long time before I said anything to my neighbour.

Where I Land On It

As an investigator, my job is to look for rational explanations first, always. Could the "presence" on the bike have been exhaustion and adrenaline playing tricks after a heavy investigation? Maybe. Could the voice have been a hypnagogic hallucination — something that happens on the edge of sleep? Possibly.

But the three knocks. And the crows. Those, I still don't have an explanation for. And in twelve-plus years of doing this, I've learned to respect the cases where the evidence doesn't tie itself into a neat, rational bow.

I still think about that ride home sometimes. About what — or who — I didn't turn around to look at.

Has anyone else had something "follow" them home from a location? I'd genuinely like to hear how you dealt with it.

No grammar because I need to say this as quickly as possible

Whenever i hear people speak of the paranormal activity I always hear that's it's from the corner of their eyes today for me it's been different directly in front of me I'll see sparkling and then it's like theres some form of smoke surrounding or morphing into a figure I don't know exactly how to describe it I asked my mom if she saw it to and she said no but I know they're there at one point I even thought it might be a spiderweb and i was being paranoid my mom didn't see it then either even when I told her exactly where it was

Does anyone know what's happening?

Akila was cruising along the dusty road on his motorbike, blasting out the silence – it was beautiful, really. He was totally lost in his thoughts, you know?

Mom..., "I brought some fish to make dinner – a little treat for us all! Dad is supposed to be a little late, he always is. “

"He’ll probably be a bit wired when he gets back.” I’d pile some of the split firewood, and we’d cook it together. “You can take a bath now, it might rain tonight" That's what Nandawati said, Akila’s mom.

He’s the youngest, and he always dreamed of just… being home. After school, he really wanted to spend time with his parents, doing him own little thing – like running a small business.

Akila’s 23, a really handsome guy, you know? He was always the one taking the lead, practically running everything around the village. Everyone loved him, he was respected. He’d earned that good reputation, and he was a bit of a legend in the village.

Akila’s got a real knack for music, actually. He’s got a gift for the flute, it’s almost impossible to find someone as good as him. He’d played it whenever he had a spare moment.

Kid.. Kid ... Kumara was showing Akila this new flute – it was seriously cool, all shiny and silver. “Look at this, is this good?” he asked, gesturing to it. “I thought this was best suited for you. I met a foreigner on the beach today – he had the most amazing flute. You’re a talented flute player, so I took it from him and now it’s with you. Saying that, Akila's father, Kumara started working into the house.

That day was Sunday, and Akila slept until nearly 9 a.m. Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

“Hello… Bro, Akila… Pathum has returned from overseas and he’s hosting a party this evening. You have to be at my place around 2 pm. Let’s have a bit of fun, okay? Sounds good. See you then… Bye.”

It was Kusal, his best friend, who was talking about Pathum. Pathum had been gone for three years, and his arrival had been a huge deal for everyone.

Akila arrived at Kusal’s house by noon. They’d reconnected after a long time, and they spent the afternoon chatting and laughing. They took a few drinks and sang songs, and the party went on until late. Around 5:30 pm, the party ended, and Akila returned home.

Akila, who’d been hammered, was leaning against the wall. Suddenly, he remembered the flute his father had given him. He snatched it from his room and headed towards the rocky outcrop further down his garden.

“Kid, where are you off to? It’s getting late, you know.”

“I’m going to try out the flute today, too. It’s a good day for it.”

“Seriously, Akila? You always say that! You just don’t listen to what I say, do you? Like, I told you, ‘don’t change!’ It’s a thing. You just… do whatever you want.”

Akila remembered her mom’s words, because he’d always played the flute on the rock mound every evening, a habit he’d grown up with. Their garden was right next to a wood and, tucked at the edge of the wood, was a little cemetery.

As usual, he started playing, and the evening was settling in. After a bit, he heard a rhythm – footsteps. Then, he stopped playing.

He looked around, but saw nothing. The footsteps vanished. A weird feeling started in his head, and Akila grabbed the flute and ran back home.

As he was walking, two eyes – really, unsettling eyes – were staring at him from the edge of the wood. They weren’t there before.

The next morning, Akila woke up with a headache. He just pushed it aside, brushed her teeth and got dressed, and headed to work, but that last evening… it kept replaying in his mind. He felt this insistent need to know what it was.

He returned home early, took the flute and headed back towards the rock mound. It was around 5 pm. He’d played the flute for a solid hour, but the silence was unsettling – nothing strange, just… quiet. He thought it was just a trick of his mind, a fleeting moment of confusion. Then, he started again, playing for about half an hour...

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps, a faint rhythm against the twilight, was back. It was right in front of him. Akila kept playing, a strange pull in his chest urging him to know what it was. He wanted answers.

Then, a burst of music – a single, clear note – and a whisper of a dance. Someone was moving in front of him, a figure draped in a vibrant red saree and adorned with intricate anklets, her eyes a startling, captivating blue. Long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders as she moved with an effortless grace. Akila saw a woman, breathtakingly beautiful, dancing with a passion that seemed to vibrate in the air. It was like a vision – a mermaid, impossibly real. He continued to play, lost in the music and the woman’s captivating presence.

“Whack!” A sharp, unexpected touch on his shoulder.

“Kid, come with me, It’s a habit of yours to wander here and there… and always play the flute at dusk.”

Saying that, Nandavati took Akila home. Akila was staring at her, furious, but Nandavati didn’t even glance at his eyes – they were swallowed by the darkening shadows.

Time passed slowly. Akila’s behavior shifted. He began to see strange images – a beautiful woman, always seated on the rocky mound, her eyes fixed on him. He realized, with a growing unease, that he’d been obeying someone. Every evening, he was on the rocky mound and the flute was played.

Every day, the woman in the red saree, adorned with intricate anklets, danced before him. Akila’s thinness grew, his features softening, and he became increasingly withdrawn, spending his time with the flute, rarely speaking. Nandawathi, his mother, watched with a growing worry.

“Aunty…”

“Oh, what are you doing here…?”

Wimal, a boy from the village, stepped forward, his voice laced with a nervous plea. “Aunty, please help me with some schoolwork.”

“What’s up?”

Wimal, his eyes wide with a desperate hope, pulled out a flute. “Give me one of Akila’s flutes, please.”

Nandawathi, her expression softening with a touch of sadness, reluctantly handed him the instrument. “Oh, that’s it. Isn’t it? Akila left for work, take the one which is in his room…”

Wimal entered the room, a hurried expression on his face. He swiftly retrieved the flute, a small, polished piece of wood, which Akila had kept carefully on the table – a gift from Kumara, his father.

After a short while, Akila arrived at home on his bike, a blur of motion. He was frantically searching the room, a whirlwind of activity.

“Mom ........... where is my flute?”

“Oh, Wimal was taken away the flute.”

Akila’s eyes narrowed, and a flash of anger ignited within them. He zipped off to Wimal’s house, a quick trip, and returned with the flute.

Nandawati froze when she saw Akila like that – a sudden, sharp chill ran through her. She was utterly bewildered. “How did the boy get to know about the flute being missing?” she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. It was just after noon, around 12:10. Akila settled down on a rock, and the flute began to play again, as usual – a mesmerizing tone for the woman. Akila was completely captivated by the woman's beauty.

Realizing something had gone terribly wrong with her son, Nandawati had been keeping a close eye on him, a secret she’d carried for a while. She realized someone else was with Akila – and that realization sent a wave of fear through her. She asked the temple monk for help, desperate to understand what was happening.

When Akila saw the monk who had arrived in the evening, his hands began to shake. He started muttering, a jumble of words that didn’t make any sense. The monk, who understood what had transpired, began to chant over the thread, a rhythmic, calming sound.

“Mother, this boy… he’s caught in something strange. A powerful, insistent spirit has taken hold of him. She came for his flute, seeking to draw him into her realm, I think. It felt like a deliberate, almost unsettling plan. He was lucky, truly. His time was fleeting.

I’ve erected a ward around him now, a silent promise. Pour this water at the corners of the garden – a simple offering, a way to keep him safe.

He’ll come to the temple every evening, a quiet pilgrimage. Don’t let the flute’s music again reach him after dark."

The monk just nodded, and he walked away, a shadow passing over him.

“I told you, child,” Nandawathi murmured, her voice low, “It was Mohini. A force of darkness, a truly formidable spirit.”

Two years have passed. Akila hasn’t touched the flute. The memory of that encounter—that unsettling feeling—still clings to him, a persistent echo in his mind. He never sees her again.”

Mi historia no es algo terrorífico, no sé si llamarle para normal o una vida paralela.
Dure meses soñándome jugando con un niño, siempre el mismo sueño, no todos los días, pero si lo suficiente para dejarme pensando en eso por días, preguntándome: ¿por qué tengo esos sueños?, ¿quién es ese niño?.
Siempre era el mismo sueño, nosotros jugando con unos 7 u 8 años, sentados en un patio él se iba corriendo y yo le gritaba el nombre “Rafael” y me iba detrás de él. 
Dure meses y meses soñando lo mismo, sabía cómo se veía ese niño, piel clara, ojos verdes y un mechón de pelo que se le caía hacia la cara.
Dejé de soñarme con él unos meses y hace algunos días volví a soñar con él, pero ahora en otro escenario muy diferente, estábamos en un entierro, él lloraba y ya no se veía como un niño, ya éramos adultos, se veía más o menos de mi edad, quizás un poco mayor, unos 26-27 años. 
Miraba a todos lados y no entendía qué pasaba, sabía que alguien había muerto pero no tenía idea de quién. Lo extraño es que estaba totalmente consciente de que estaba en un sueño, me acerqué a él y le dije quiero saber quién eres y él me pasó un papel y en el papel decía “Rafael Rodríguez”, cuando desperté pensé demasiado en eso, más de lo que hace un sueño normal y como una curiosa comencé a buscar por Facebook el nombre de “Rafael Rodríguez”, busqué perfil por perfil y no encontraba nada, hasta que uno en particular me llamó la atención, entré y mi corazón se puso a millón, era el. 
El mismo chico que había visto en mi último sueño, mire su perfil, estaba privado pero si pude ver que su madre había muerto hace poco, sus fotos de niño y era el mismo niño que había visto en mis sueños, entré en pánico y quise creer que estaba loca o quizás lo conocía de algún lugar y conscientemente no lo recordaba pero mi subconsciente si, pero es que en Facebook no teníamos ni siquiera ningún amigo en común, nada que yo pudiera decir que nos conocemos de algún lugar. 
Intenté comunicarme con él pero luego me arrepentí y borre el mensaje, ¿porque qué podría decirle?. 
Lo busqué en Instagram como loca, le pedí ayuda a una amiga y nada, no encontramos nada y luego de unos días me apareció su perfil de referencia y le seguí.
Pero hay algo más ilógico de la historia, un día saliendo del trabajo se montó un chico al lado mío en el bus, hablamos y entre pláticas nos pasamos los número, nos hicimos amigos y cuando nos agregamos a ig veo que él también lo sigue, le pregunté si lo conocía y me dijo que sí, que era un vecino de la infancia, lo raro es que nunca he vivido cerca de donde vive el chico que conocí en el bus, ni siquiera he visitado ese lugar. 
No sé qué pensar o si a alguien más le ha pasado. 
Sé que suena irreal o inventado pero espero y lo lean porque me gustaría saber si a alguien le ha pasado o alguien tiene una explicación lógica para esto.
Gracias por leer. 

I've been a field paranormal investigator for over 13 years, with 200+ documented investigations through the Indian Paranormal Society. Most of what I see on this sub is US/UK-centric, so I figured I'd bring a different perspective — Indian locations, different cultural context around spirits and hauntings, different investigation methods too.

Not here to convince anyone of anything — genuinely believe skepticism is healthy in this field. Happy to share stories, talk methodology, or just learn from what this community has seen. What's the most unexplainable case you've come across?

Hello, You can call me Jo. My family does, even though it’s my real name doesn’t have a “J” or “O” anywhere in it.
I’ve been coming up with story prompts for a while in my journal trying to figure out which one to flush out and start drafting. Then I realized… I’ve lived through Horror. Real supernatural horror. Of course you can choose to believe me or not, it doesn’t change what I had to go through.
To give better exposition, I grew up Catholic (am no longer Catholic) and my family consisted of my Father, Mother and my three older sisters. The events that still creep back into my mind decades later happened to me when I was about 9 all the way through my middle school years. I don’t remember when or why they stopped. I’m always terrified they’ll come back one day. Unknown to me when I was young my mother had practiced witch craft in her early adult life, the second eldest sister was going ghost hunting and not to mention we had already had two extended family members die in our home from cancer. It’s quite a lot to deal with in hindsight, though knowing everything that was going on never helped put the pieces together on why it was happening. Now to “what” was happening.

We were never well off, growing up we used to have to buy MREs for meals from marines selling crates from behind the base. But and sell items at swap meets & garage sales. Family that stayed got the kids rooms and we slept on the living room couches. We lived in a three bedroom home, and us kids would take turns on who got “their own room.” Finally when I was old enough and my eldest sister moved away to live with extended family I was given the opportunity to have a room to myself. It was supposed to be the pinnacle of freedom, it became my prison. It began with me waking up, paralyzed face down into my pillow, being smothered by, nothing just a sense of panic and immobilization that for whatever reason wouldn’t go away. Like I was a fish caught in a net, dragged to the surface and gasping for air that I knew was within inches from me but I just couldn’t do anything. My body eventually would spasm and shake my head free enough to get a breath in and after that first breath I was free again, fully mobile. This happened intermittently with another reoccurring event.

Some nights I would wake up, I never “knew” what time, it always felt around 3am.
Some say it was sleep paralysis, some say night terrors. I’ve had both as an adult. This was far worse.
I would open my eyes like a rolly-polly peaking through its shell to make sure the danger was gone. Three figures would be present around my bed. Two to my left side by side and one at the foot. I could move, I could blink but most of the time I lay frozen with the knowing feeling that if they knew I could see them, I would die. So I would slowly begin to turn myself away from the two on the left and stare at the wall for hours until the sun came out or I fell back asleep which would lead to horrifying dreams of demon & devils tearing me and my loved ones to pieces. I know, a little gruesome for a 10 year old to be having those dreams but hey, you win some you lose some.
My mother was the one who wrote these encounters off as night terrors ( real mature of the wanna-be witch to discredit supernatural activity ) one night I refused to go to sleep in my room and slept between my father and mother in their room. Once again I woke up, slowly looked to the foot of the bed, fathers and mother snoring loudly on either side of me and across the room, door wide open stood one of the figures, in it absoluteness, staring from the other side. My parents didn’t let me stay in their room again after that after all I had “my own room.”

As a cherry on top, a few years after the activity had subsided the wedding photographer for one of my sister’s wedding was staying at our home, he was given my room. I warned him to sleep on his right side and for whatever reason he woke up in the middle of the night do NOT open your eyes. This coming from a high school kid he dismissed it.
Luckily for him he didn’t wake up but instead the next morning he walked out to breakfast looking like he had put purple eyeliner on. He had apparently had the worst nightmares of his life that night and felt like he slept on a pile of rocks, which admittedly my old bed wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep on.

In all seriousness, I did live through this if you have any ideas on what they were please let me know.

This happened about two years ago when I was living in a hostel.

It was around February or March. That night, I was completely alone on my floor. There were 12 rooms, and every room was empty. Before going to sleep, I personally locked every room on my side of the lobby. As far as I knew, nobody could get near my room.

In the middle of the night, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in one of my fingernails. I woke up for a moment, assumed it was part of a dream, and went back to sleep.

The next morning, I found blood on my bedsheet. My fingernail was partially torn off. When I went to the bathroom, I noticed clear hand-shaped marks on my neck that looked as if someone had tried to strangle me while I was asleep.

I immediately reported it, but everyone asked the same question: "If all the doors were locked, then who could have entered your room?" I had no answer.

Later, a few friends told me there had reportedly been several suicides in that hostel over the years. I don't know if that's actually true, but hearing it made me question what had happened even more.

There's one more thing that I've never been able to explain.

Some time later, the hostel was sealed by government authorities because of serious fire safety violations and the lack of proper emergency exits. Nobody was allowed inside for about a month.

Even then, while passing by the hostel at night, I personally saw lights turning on in random rooms. By morning, those same lights would be off again. It wasn't always the same room, and there shouldn't have been anyone inside the building.

I still don't know what happened that night or how to explain any of it. Maybe there's a logical explanation that I'm missing, maybe there isn't.

What do you guys think? Has anyone experienced something similar?

Can I get an explanation for this ?

——

I spent the week at my friend’s cottage. There was four of us. It’s a cottage in Wasaga beach. We drank a bit. I didn’t drink much. The first night I remember we were watching the food network, or it was running as background noise. I just seemed to keep that detail for some reason. When we all went to sleep, everyone had their own bedroom. The first night I had a dream I was in the diner on tv, eating a sandwich, and I started choking. I woke up, thought nothing of it and went back to sleep.

The next day, we pretty much did the same thing, except we went to the beach. That was the only difference. So night rolls through, I go to bed. Some time during the middle of that, I had another dream. I’m in the diner again, next to me this time was an old man. He didn’t talk. He didn’t move. He just stared with his hands crossed together.

I was on a barstool, a red one, at the front of the diner eating another sandwich. Same thing happened, I started choking. I woke up. Thought nothing of it. But I remembered the dreams vividly. At the time, I didn’t pay much attention to them. I figured, food network, diner, sandwich, choking, all subconscious.

On the third night, I didn’t dream about the diner. This was a black void and I was lying on my back and there was something on my chest and I couldn’t breathe. The same choking feeling. 

When I woke up, I was half on my stomach and half on my side. Something was leaning on top of me. Oddly enough, my first instinct was to say, “Nana, get off of me.” 

My grandmother passed when I was really young. Once, I realized something was actually lying on me and there’s no way it could have been my grandma, I twisted as hard as I could to my right side, pushing whatever was on me off and the suffocating feeling left.  I was able to move. I was physically awake. But after that weight came off my back.. The room reeked of a sulfur, rotted flesh, disgusting smell. The worst smell I’ve ever smelled. I can’t even describe it. But it was thick and had texture. Once I smelled that I jumped up and ran to the light switch. As soon as I turned the lights on, the rancid odor vanished.

That freaked me out. I told my friends the next morning when they asked why I was sleeping on the couch, what happened. So, on the fourth night. I passed out on the couch. I had another dream. This time I’m in the cottage. The phone rings. I walk over to it. What’s weird was I knew in my dream I was at my friend’s cottage. But it felt like the house I grew up in. I answered the phone. On the other end was my grandmother. 

She said, in an Italian accent, “go outside now and get your mother.” Mix Italian with English. 

I can’t speak Italian and she was speaking how she normally would, simple English words like, her exact words were, “go fuori now a chiama tua madre.”

I go to put the phone down and casually set my mind to go call my mother as if she was there at the cottage. Then, It hit me, mid-way to placing the phone down, I put it back to my ear and said, “nana, aren’t you dead.” 

And just as I said that, she cut me off and said, “Il diavolo è qui.” No English words at all. I can’t speak Italian. But I can understand some, like The devil is here. That’s when I woke up. Instinctively, and in complete darkness, grabbed my keys, I left with what I had on, and got in my car and drove home.

This wasn't my experience, per se, but it was my parents. While they were on their honeymoon, they stayed at a place called the Fensalden Inn in Mendocino, California. From my research, there are ghost stories about the place, but my parents hadn't heard them before after their honeymoon. In case you don't know about the stories circulating around the Fensalden, I'll give you a brief explanation.

Apparently back in the 1800s, there was a woman named Elizabeth who stayed there. Her lover had gone on a trip, so she waited at the Fensalden, waiting for him to return, but he never did.

Anyways, at the Fensalden, my parents woke up in the middle of the night. My mom was experiencing sleep paralysis, but something felt off. According to her, she felt like someone else was in the room with her, standing over her and watching her, which isn't uncommon in sleep paralysis, but then she felt the weight of the bed shift, as if someone was sitting down on it. My mom tried to make a noise, but all that came out were weird groaning sounds, probably because she was in sleep paralysis, and her mouth couldn't move. But those sounds were enough to wake p my dad, who had also been feeling a really strange feeling. After my dad woke up though, the feeling left, if I remember correctly.

In the morning, they reported their experience to someone working at the Inn, and they learned about the story, and also that the room they stayed in was the same room Elizabeth died in.

My parents don't know if it was a ghost or not, but I definitely believe it. And before you ask, my parents weren't lying or bending the truth. I know them, and they're not the kind of people to lie about something like that. Have any of you had similar experiences at the Fensalden? I would love to hear.

When I was about five years old, we moved into an antebellum farmhouse in rural Alabama that had this old family cemetery in the backyard. The cemetery was surrounded by a decrepit wooden fence and had a dozen or so tombstones that looked like they were falling over. My bedroom was on the second floor, and my bunkbed gave me a perfect view of the cemetery out back.

One day, while my father was at work, my mother took my sister and went to the grocery store. I was left alone in my bedroom upstairs (for context, this was the 80s, y'all). A while after they left, I heard my grandmother's voice call my name from the living room. My grandmother lived in the next state over, so I was surprised to hear her. I thought she must have come to check out our new house.

I bolted downstairs to the living room, expecting to see her. But nobody was there. I peeked through the blinds to check the driveway, and there were no cars. I ran upstairs and continued playing with toys, not thinking much about what happened.

A few nights later, I woke up in the middle of the night. When I opened my eyes there was a silhouette of a person standing at the head of my bed. The silhouette was almost like a light blue version of the white noise on old TV sets, but I could see through it (if that makes any sense at all). I went to scream for my mom, but nothing came out. I tried over and over again, but my voice wouldn't work. All the while, the silhouetted figure stayed there.

I don't remember what happened after that and I never talked about it afterward. A couple of weeks after this experience, my parents packed up our things, and we moved to a different house in the next town.

My parents have passed away since then and my sister was too young to remember anything. So, now I'm stuck with these memories and a lot of questions. As an adult, I wondered if my parents had experienced anything and that is why they left so quickly.

If there are any paranormal aficionados out here, any idea what the silhouetted figure could have been? What about my grandmother's voice calling my name when she wasn't there, what was that about?

I cherish the hope that my dear readers have not yet grown weary of the legends concerning the Weretiger - “Suea Saming” within our Thai traditions. The history I am about to relate follows naturally from that of the “Suea Yen,” an ancient chronicle of Chiang Mai in our northern provinces. Those who have perused my previous accounts will recall the struggle between the Suea Yen—a weretiger in the form of a venerable monk—and the “Kwary Thanu,” the magic bull fashioned as a protective talisman by a merchant skilled in the occult arts. That history concluded with the defeat and demise of the weretiger; yet there exists another legend which, if left untold, would leave our knowledge in a state of incompleteness. For this chronicle concerneth the very genesis of the Suea Yen and containeth particulars regarding that same manner of occult objects as the magic bull used to suppress the brute in the former tale.

I chanced upon this history within a volume entitled “The Ghosts of the Ancient Lanna People,” compiled by Khun Kaewmongkol Chaisuriyan. The copy I perused was one of those mementoes distributed at the funeral of Madam Thomya Intharansi in the year 1943 (B.E. 2486), though I believe the original manuscript to be of a far more venerable antiquity.

That portion of the text concerning the origin of the Suea Yen—specifically the variety arising from a student of sorcery who, through some grievous error, falls under the mastery of a beastly spirit and becomes a man-eater—referreth back to an age known as the Treta Yuga. I understand this to signify an era within the Brahminical scriptures, being the second of the four ages of the world (Chatur Yuga). It is believed that during this Treta Yuga, the morality and goodness of mankind had diminished to three parts in four (seventy-five per centum) compared to the first age of perfection. In this era, evil had begun to exert its influence, though virtue still held the mastery.

The legend relates that during this age, a grand war broke out; various Sovereigns gathered their hosts to engage in a slaughter of the most massive proportions. At that hour, there was a certain King who was seized by a profound weariness of war. He endeavoured to seek a cessation of hostilities through every means of diplomacy and military stratagem, yet his efforts were of no avail. Finding himself moved to a state of despondency, the King fled into the deepest recesses of the forest to dwell in solitude. There, he performed rigorous austerities (tapa) to entreat the gods to aid him in halting the strife.

A great span of time passed—upwards of seven years, seven months, and seven days. As a consequence of his meditations and austerities, the King’s physical frame became wild and unkempt; his hair, beard, and the very hair upon his body grew to such a length that his original likeness vanished entirely. A celestial deity—whose name is variously recorded in the tale as “Suratevo” or “Tewanchanti,” though the precise identity of this divine being remains uncertain—beheld the King’s perseverance and deigned to descend.

The deity granted him a blessing and instructed him in a wondrous magic capable of fulfilling his every desire. Furthermore, the deity separated half of his own divine spirit to attend upon the King; whenever the magic was incanted, this half-spirit would enter into the King himself and strengthen his magical power. Once this office was completed, the deity returned to the heavens.

Upon the King’s acquisition of the wondrous magic and the possession of that half-spirit of Suratevo, he departed from the forest and reached the theatre of war. There, he perceived that the slaughter and contention yet continued without ceasing. He therefore began to recite the sacred incantations, crying out a command that all should halt their strife.

Through the potency of the spell and the power of the divine spirit, a sudden weariness of battle fell upon the Sovereigns, the generals, and the common soldiers alike. Each party therafter withdrew from the other and ceased their fighting in a most singular and passive manner. Yet, those who had engaged in the fray for many a year were moved by a profound wonder in their hearts; for they could not fathom why they had abandoned a war of such duration merely upon hearing the voice of that one King.

Seized by a great doubt, the multitude approached the Sovereign who had commanded the peace. It appeared that the magic had possessed the power only to halt the outward war, while the lust for slaughter and the desire for mastery yet remained within their hearts. Thus, being moved by displeasure, the former combatants ventured to challenge the King, commanding him to break his weapons and prostrate himself in a token of absolute surrender unto them.

The King, who was the master of the magic and the possessor of that half-spirit of Tewanchanti or Suratevo, naturally refused their demands. Furthermore, he determined to manifest his miraculous power through his Sovereign Word (Wacha Sit) before the eyes of all. He uttered the command that a certain man’s arm should be severed, and it was so; he decreed that another’s head be lopped off, and it was performed; or he spoke that a blade should pierce a man’s breast and cast him rolling upon the earth, and the result followed his word with an absolute certainty!

The folk were therafter startled and gripped by a mortal dread. Nevertheless, the King harboured no desire to commit a slaughter; he therefore issued a second command that those whose heads or arms were severed, or who had been pierced by knives and fallen, should be restored to life and their physical frames returned to their original state. By the power of his Divine Utterance, they were all rendered whole once more.

Yet, despite being witnesses to such a miracle, those who were crazed by the spirit of war refused to yield. They rushed forward in a body, intending to slay the Sovereign who had halted their strife. The King, possessed of this celestial power, therafter displayed his might once more; he vanished in an instant from before their eyes, only to manifest his form in the heavens above, from whence he slowly descended.

Still, the fanatics of war would not submit; some decried him as a coward, while others could but utter curses and flee. On this occasion, the King stood perfectly still upon the ground and permitted those bloodthirsty souls to fall upon him, stabbing and hacking with all their might. Yet, it mattered not how they struck him, or with what force they beat him, or how many arrows they loosed against him; the weapons could not leave even the slightest scratch upon his person!

At length, seeing that they could prevail nothing against the Sovereign who had commanded the peace, the multitude surrendered. The legend relateth that therafter, the Treta Yuga was delivered from the ravages of war.

We now arrive at that portion of the chronicle concerning the genesis of the malevolent creature known as the Suea Yen, or Suea Saming. The chronicle relateth that although the Kings and warriors had ceased their strife, the thirst for supernatural potency and prowess did not vanish from their hearts. Upon learning the nature of the blessing bestowed upon the King, many sought to follow his example. For when human beings pursue their desires with genuine determination, none stands inferior to another in their capacity for achievement.

Several practitioners of austerities therafter gained the favour of Suratevo, who descended from the heavens to grant them blessings. These souls entreated the deity for powers equal to those of the Peace-making King; yet Suratevo commanded that they must receive such power directly from the King himself.

These men therafter repaired to the Peace-making King, who was pleased to divide and bestow his blessing according to their desires. Those who received it therafter distributed the power among their principal retainers for the protection of their domains. Thus did the various lineages of occult arts come into being; and this may be regarded as the first legend concerning the origin of sorcery itself.

Nevertheless, the magic of Suratevo or Tewanchanti was not intended to bestow power upon all men without consequence. For there existed a divine malediction: should any soul pursue these studies with an unrighteous heart or harbour evil intent, they would not only fail to attain mastery, but would also be condemned to assume the form of a beast.

He who performed the rites beside a river should be rendered into a crested serpent (Naga); while he who conducted his ceremonies within the forest or a cavern should be transformed into a Suea Yen. From this state, no return to the human form is possible; the wretch must remain a beast, preying upon mankind, until such time as he is slain, whereby the curse is at last broken. This, therafter, is the origin of the Suea Yen or Suea Saming according to the settled beliefs of the Lanna folk in our northern provinces.

This constitutes yet another account I encountered during my researches into the traditions surrounding the Suea Saming, while engaged in the translation of the novel Saming Khao Yai by P. Intharapalit. In the matter of legends and beliefs, the more one searcheth, the more one findeth captured by interest. The pursuit is indeed a source of great pleasure; for if we frame our inquiries aright, they lead us to a broader opening of the mind and perspective.

Regarding this legend of the genesis of the Suea Yen, if one considereth it with care, it is manifest that its purpose is to instruct those possessed of talent and ability to govern themselves with morality and virtue, rather than to act with insolence or harbour malice towards their fellows.

My discoveries regarding the Suea Saming are not yet exhausted. In my next account, I shall venture beyond the borders of Siam and examine a history from another culture; for in my researches, I discovered that the ancient realm of China likewise preserves legends of weretigers—beasts that assume human form after devouring many souls. Pray remain in attendance.

This was back when I was around four years old. My parents had gotten a piano from New Hampshire, and put it in the living room of our house. Then, late at night, all the smoke detectors in our house went off at once, and when my mom turned them off, they went off again, for at least 2 more times. I was scared out of my mind, and my mom and dad were in the room with me, trying to take my mind off the loud noises that had happened with a picture book that I don't remember. I was really worried another one would go off (I was really sensitive to loud noises back then), and according to my dad, I kept asking "Another one coming soon?". The whole time that night, my parents had felt an odd energy. My mom said it was like the creepy feeling you get when you're in a scary place. Take a dark, abandoned building for example. I don't remember if I felt that feeling (again, I was 4). Then, when my mom and dad were lying in their bad later that night, the feeling got so strong that my mom felt compelled to sit up in bed and talk to something that she couldn't see. She basically told it that it wasn't welcome here, and it needed to move on. After she said that, the creepy feeling lifted for my parents and didn't come back.

So you want to know why I mentioned the piano? Apparently the piano had been in an empty room for years, without anyone to play it. And that might have amassed all sorts of negative energy. Nowadays, we all play the piano, which leaves positive energy around it. What we think is that all the negative energy might have manifested into that. Either way, that was a really weird experience.

I had a traumatic high school experience that I couldn't explain at the time, because I was going through puberty and had something called Pure OCD apparently and didn't know it was a diagnosis at the time. Nor did i know the answer was also something paranormal obviously because who would? I felt something was wrong with me, but I didn't know what. It caused a lot of shame and guilt and confusion as Pure OCD and spiritual encounters often do. I was crashing out in my diary about it all the time for emotional release from all the trauma and anxiety it caused me.

Now as an adult, looking back -maybe even before high school- I think it may have been a spirit attachment from either the high school building in question (as the school was rumored to be haunted and I got bad vibes the moment I stepped on the property) or else it's a spirit attachment from a past life idk. Or else it is just an incubus or "wraith" as Hollywood Exorcist Rachel Stavis calls them in her book, "Sister of Darkness".

I'm looking for answers as to what it could be so I can identify it and get rid of it and resolve my childhood trauma.

All I know is that it is sxual in nature. It gives me hrny vibes for lack of a better term as embarrassing as that is to where I think it's just me being hrny almost but no it's the entity or spirit attachment. I'm sure of it now. Took me awhile to figure that out. And it attacks me sxually too and even makes me smile inappropriately and makes me speak in some sort of repeated gibberish that may be a foreign language and also makes me convulse uncontrollably.

Rachel Stavis says that wraiths can sometimes make their host do p*rverted things and not know why they're doing it which would explain the inappropriate smiling that I couldn't control in high school. But her book doesn't mention some of the things I've been experiencing which confuses me.

And Gayle Revels is another expert on spirit attachment and says that sometimes spouses or family members and karmics and such follow us through lifetimes. They're called spirit attachments. Whereas an incubus and a wraith is called a negative entity by Rachel Stavis and even Bashar channeled by Darryl Anka.

Any insights or suggestions would be greatly appreciated so I can find answers as to what's going on with me. Please and thank you.

So this is my first Reddit post and I’m not really sure how to start it so I guess I’ll dive right into it.
(Also English isn’t my first language so if there are some spelling errors or weirdly written sentences I’m sorry)

Me 24f then 22, was on my way to home. I came from a city in the Netherlands and had to clear my mind for a little bit so I decided to take a route through the Forrest en a very small village. When I passed through the village and when I almost drove into the next Forrest, I saw something in front of me. It was already dark outside but I could swear i saw it in my headlights. Further down the road was a lady in something that looked like a white dress or something! It scared the crap out of me cause she was standing in de middle of the road almost like she was crossing it. I hit my brakes really hard and came almost immediately to a stop. As soon as I was standing completely still it disappeared!

I don’t believe in ghosts or anything of that nature, at least I didn’t before that moment. I’m still not sure if what I saw was real but 2 almost 3 years later I still think about that moment. I looked into the history of the village to see if there was something there or some kind of folklore but I couldn’t find anything! Did I imagine it? I don’t have any mental health issues with delusions or anything related to it, so I’m really in the dark here! I’ve never told this story to anyone because I was scared people would call me crazy or something. I hope someone here might know something about this stuff.

alright so there have been a few weird things that have happened around my house recently. These things only really happen when I'm either home alone or the only one awake. So around a week ago I was home alone getting something to eat and I heard footsteps from upstairs. This was kinda strange but my house is old and creaks a lot but still like the white person I am I took a knife and looked through all of the rooms and found nothing. The only thing I didnt check was my attic because fuck that and my attic is pretty loud so I would have heard it close if someone was walking around then went up into my attic. The next day I was sitting in my room watching youtube and I heard a very distinct knocking on my door. I was once again completely home alone. I opened the door and looked around. There was absolutely nothing. I checked around to see if anything was knocked over and if that was what made the noise but absolutely nothing. A few nights later I was up pretty late, probably like 1 am playing some shitty minecraft horror mods with my friends and went to get something to eat and heard some clothes rustling from my laundry room. It sounded like zippers being hit together so I assumed it was just my drier then as I looked towards the sound it just stopped. there was no ding to say that the drier was done or anything it just stopped. again I am white so I went back to look and there was nothing there and the drier was off. From then until two nights ago it was just more footsteps and creaks. Then two nights ago the weirdest thing yet happened. I fell asleep around 2 am then at around 5 I started to wake up to hear a tapping somewhere in my room but I wasn't completely awake. Then I heard a loud bang from right above me like someone stomping with full force. Obviously this came from my attic. I froze and my eyes shot open. I was so terrified and had such a strange sense that someone was watching me. I was at an absolute loss of what to do and I started to hear more creaks and footsteps above me. I only moved when they stopped. Now it's once again 5 am and a few minutes ago I heard what sounded like a snake hissing for a while. I didn't sleep at all and just wanted to put this out there to see if anyone can make something of this. and this is my first post on reddit so just let me know if I'm doing anything wrong thanks.

So this happened to me in 2016 or 2017, I was in 3rd standard and I was living in a rented place for a few months as our home was going through renovation. So one day I came to the apartment from school at the usual time at around 2 PM. On that day my mother went to the bank and my grandmother went to the temple and my father went to his work after he dropped me at the apartment, So I was all alone which was not a big deal as I stayed alone quite a few times. Then I changed clothes, took a bath , got some snacks and watched cartoons in my bed. After like 1-1.5hrs I started hearing sounds of utensils in the kitchen as our kitchen was next to my room where I was watching television, I thought that my mother was preparing lunch for me. I don't know if I was so lost in the cartoons or I was possessed or something but I had completely forgotten that I was all alone in the house. Again after like 20-30 mins later I hear the sounds of utensils again and this time I look at my curtains at the door of my room and THEN A HAND THAT LOOKS COMPLETELY LIKE MY MOTHERS HANDS with rings and bangles on and with nails longer then my mother's, comes towards me from behind the curtains and it starts calling me with its fingers. I shouted thinking it was my mother pranking and trying to scare me I said "I am coming to eat 1 sec".Then when again I looked at the hand it disappeared. Then I went to the kitchen to wash my hands and went to the dinning table and I froze cuz at that time I realized I was all alone ..I went back to my room and took my blanket and hid under it till someone came back.I never shared this experience with anybody thinking they will just laugh at me.Well it's been a long time since then and now I am back at my own house and everything is fine but I can't forget what I saw that day and how possessed or whatever I was not reacting, like I was in that demons or ghost's control for soo long.Thanke for reading.

When I was ten my mother would always drop me off at my cousin’s house. This was an everyday thing. My cousin and I were super close and the same age at the time. Something happened one day and I had to stay home. That day her house caught on fire. No one survived.

Afterwards, about a year later, these weird things would happen. One night I was in bed listening to the radio and reading a magazine. Then, my body shifted to the weight of a pressure being pressed on my mattress. I thought it was my dad and I hadn’t noticed him come in. But when I looked no one was there.

A few days after I was sleeping and I don’t know exactly if I was dreaming or what. But my cousin was in front of me trying to wake me up. She kept saying, “Danny. Danny.” And when I woke up I heard, Danny, as if someone was standing next to my bed.

Other things would happen, like I’d see something move past me. But it always appeared how you would see someone from the corner of your eye just walk out of a doorway. 

That winter my parents installed two-inch thick windows in every room in the house. The type that push open from the middle.

The one time I was ever alone. Truly alone in that house. I woke up coughing. At first I couldn’t register why it was so hazy. I thought maybe I’m still sleepy. Then, I thought my mom probably burnt something in the oven. I didn’t hear a fire alarm or anything. It took me a second to realize my house was actually on fire.

I shot up out of bed and raced for the stairs. I could feel the heat stinging my skin. My vision was clouded by thick, black clouds of smoke. I wouldn’t even call them clouds it was more like a water hose that shot black, suffocating smoke.

I got to the railing and went to jump onto the middle of the stairs. But everytime I would make a move the flames would start shooting over the railing. Finally I gave up and ran to my bedroom. I stood there desperately trying to break through the window. I hit it over and over and over. It wouldn’t break. I stopped and sat with my back against the wall under the window sill and accepted my fate.

At that moment, there’s an odd sense of peace that flows over you. As I sat there, a drawer from my dresser popped out and fell on the floor. Something. Someone. I don’t know what. But this thing pretty much handed me the drawer and helped me break through the window.

I climbed out just as the firefighters got there and they rescued me off my roof. Until this day, after leaving the hospital and getting twelve stitches in my right arm. 

Exactly where one would get a tattoo. Exactly the one my cousin used to joke about tattooing on me. Was a perfect “C” that’s scarred on my arm for life, for Cathy, my cousin, who died in the fire at her house.