Story telling time: that creepy house or neighbor

I thought this would be a good topic for Halloween. you see it in the movies, the scarey house no one wants to go too, the creepy neighbor where rumors abound.

Some of us actually had those, and the imagination runs wild on kids.

did you have a creepy neighbor? A creepy house that no one would live in or would sell too frequently? That yard that you would dare each other to step in for a moment?

Next door to me was what we called teh Ivy house. Because English ivy totally took over the house and covered the windows and hung over the front door. Made it look sinister. A sister and brother used to live there, I would see her occassionaly till she passed. Then there was the brother who was only seen once in public. Didn't help any that my bigger brother told me that he had human limbs hanging in the basement. I rarely ventured into the yard and steered clear of that house.

Later he was taken away by social services and put into a home. Like a shut in and good agoraphobe, apparently the house was frightening on the inside minus the body parts.

reply to post by nixie_nox


We had one, directly across the street from our old house, when I was a kid. Even had my first ghostly encounter there. I still think this may have been a dream, but somehow, we ALL had this dream, or it actually happened...was during a sleepover there with friends. The house was vacant before them, and after they moved. It was always a creepy house.

We also had the house with the old couple that kept a horde of balls that landed in their yard.

There was a woman that lived in building when I was in my early teens. She was into Brujeria (en.wikipedia.org...), which in the Bronx, and filled with hispanics from all over, this was pretty accepted, and feared.

She lived a few floors below me, and we tried to avoid her at all cost, if she opened her door we could hear chickens and animals, which in some circles would be considered for the purpose of sacrifice.

One day myself and a few friends were running down the stairs, and she opened her door. Everyone else ran, and I just stood there. She told me in spanish that my dad was cursed, and I ran like hell.

After yelling at my friends for leaving me, I told them what she said, and they all looked at me like I was cursed too.

So later that day a few friends and I, went to the catholic church with tupperware, and filled the containers with "holy water", we went back to my house to see if we can try to see if what she said was true.

Of course we had seen several movies of the time including Creep show, which was several tales of weirdness, and of course who cannot forget things like "bloody mary".

So we went into my room got a mirror, and put the container of holy water in front of it, and began asking (dumb teenage questions) what did I think was going to happen I DONT KNOW!

But the mirror broke on the floor, we all ran like hell, and got a crucifix. My dad later on that day told me he wasn't feeling well, and I thought that because of the women my day was going to die.

I stayed up all night, hoping that my dad would be ok, I told him about a week later, and he laughed, and told me that the lady was crazy, but I still didn't believe him.

Till this day, I think that she either cursed him, or me for that matter. I have since moved and never heard saw her again. I am not religious, but that stuff spooks the heck out of me.

BTW, I take things like Brujeria, Voodoo, and summoning spirits seriously.

Peace, NRE.

S&F and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

reply to post by nixie_nox


I told this story once already, but I was in a hurry and shortened it considerably. I'll tell you the unabridged version here.

When I was about 13 years old, a friend told me about a haunted area at the back of his property. It was an old junkyard that the previous owner of the land had operated in the 70s, allegedly. He told me that a ghost guarded these vehicles, and that they could not be removed. The lack of a road was also another reason no one had removed them. Me being the young skeptic that I was, just had to go check it out.

We got on his ATV and drove as far as we could, and got off and walked the rest of the way. It probably took an hour to get there, it was out in the middle of nowhere. I remember walking up to the lake that the cars were parked beside, and it was an odd lake indeed. It covered by my guesstimate at least 10 acres, but was not more than 3 feet deep in the middle. It had a ton of vegetation/algae growing in it, and appeared to be man made. It also appeared to have been built recently.

As soon as I was near the area, I started to feel an overwhelming amount of evil and confusion from something. I did not know what, and at the time decided to ignore it. After looking over the very weird lake, we started to walk over towards the cars that had been parked in the 70s, and forgotten. The two vehicles that I remember the most vividly, were a 70s mercury, gold with white interior, and a '56 Ford f-100, a completely original and nearly rust free classic. The mercury had been in a terrible accident, and the whole front end had been bent into what I thought looked roughly like a mouth. Inside this mouth, was nothing but darkness. I steered my friend away from the sight of the cars, because I was worried his uncle was going to pop out from inside that engine bay and scare the heck out of me. I was still skeptical by this point. A few things that I did observe that seemed oddly out of place, was the lack of vegetation growing on and into the cars. It's impossible for a vehicle to sit in the woods for 30 years, and not start to become reclaimed by nature. Yet these vehicles had nothing growing on them, no leaves piled up on them, very little rust, and the majority of the tires on the vehicles even had air in them. Strange indeed.

I challenged his claim of there being no road, or no way for the cars to have gotten there. We began by following the obvious access road that left the area. It turned up nothing but more mystery. We found a very oddly placed bit of cement on part of the road. It appeared old, but had no cracks. When you lay cement on soil, it will crack within a year. This had no cracks, and no reason for even being there. We walked onward towards what we knew was a wide swamp/river. As we followed the road, it became less and less visible, and eventually seemed to go directly into the swamp. Right before it emptied into the swamp, there was a large oak tree growing between the two paths that tires make on a dirt road. There was no evidence of a bridge ever having been there, and the river was large enough to stop even a hummer.

At this point we made the call that this road obviously could not have been how they got in. We knew they came in by tow truck, because all of the cars were in fatal accidents. We decided to follow the shoreline and look for a way out. We found, as we expected, two large irrigation ditches that were about 8 feet deep running completely around and isolating that peninsula that we were on. Absolutely no way out, and quite an inconvenient place to dump a vehicle. Nothing made much sense, so we decided to make our way back to the lake and the vehicles for a look around. By this time I was satisfied that his uncle would not be waiting to scare us.

We went back and looked over the cars, the ford had been in a smaller wreck, but had a steering wheel that was bent, probably from a passenger's face/body ramming into it. God bless shoulder belts. I looked over the mercury closely this time, and noticed it had a 460ci big block v-8 that had been shoved all the way into the front seat. It looked like the windows had been busted out on each side to remove the occupants. We browsed over the other cars, which didn't have any redeeming qualities, and decided to go back.

We made one more trip out there about a week later, and nothing had changed other than all the vegetation in the lake had died. It was an uneventful trip that we used to kill time.

After talking to his uncle, he became curious about the '56 f-100 we claimed to have found. He thought we were lying, because a '56 ford is a highly desirable truck. To find one mostly intact, is extremely rare. He decided a third trip was in order, and we lead him to the area. We made what was becoming a familiar trip, and showed him the truck.

reply to post by Evolutionsend


After the initial shock that we were telling the truth, he decided to have a look under the hood and find out how badly the frame rail was damaged, and see if it even had an engine. To our surprise, we popped the hood to find a nearly pristine flathead Ford v-8, and a slightly bent frame rail. He said it could be straightened, most likely. We stood talking for a while, trying to come up with a way to get this truck out of the area. He decided that we should first see if it had keys, a title, and could possibly be started up and moved. It's unheard of to consider the idea that a '56 Ford might actually start, but this truck was oddly pristine. He went over to check the cab for keys, and stood there stammering. I was looking over my interest, the mercury, and noticed the interior had fresh, coagulating blood all over it. I was scared and screamed. His uncle looked at me and simply said, "yeeea". He had found blood in the truck as well. We all ran back out of there as fast as we could.

At the time, I had zero explanation for how this could happen. Sometime later, his uncle came up with one that he eventually talked us into believing. His theory was that someone was living in one of those vehicles, and had put an animals blood all over them to scare us away. I suppose it's possible that we walked right past a bloody mercury, so I went with his idea. We made our return trip, and looked the cars over yet again. They were exactly as we found them. No blood was present, no evidence of any blood had ever been there. The interiors hadn't been cleaned, the blood simply wasn't there. They still had their thick coat of mildew over the interior of the gold/white mercury. We decided that no one could have cleaned the interiors, without cleaning the mold as well. We left, and never returned.

At the time we didn't know what happened, but were in agreement that some paranormal stuff was going on. Later, after telling this story on ATS, I decided to search for answers. This took place in Mathews co VA, so I searched for paranormal happenings in Mathews, and I found this. Mathews has one of the most haunted sites in Virginia, maybe even the country. I know that old house woods is situated on a swamp, and I think the swamp we walked up to may have been the area that's known for paranormal activities.

That's my complete creepy area story!

Thank you guys, great stories. Keep them coming.

I've got two.

First one. All BS aside. When I worked in law enforcement, there was one facility where we brought the worst offenders, the ones who were, not only a suicide risk, but an out and out security risk. The serial killers, the ones who killed their parents and tortured animals, the ones who were arrested for child abduction and caught the moment before they had accomplished a human sacrifice. THOSE kinds of perps.

In this facility, there were a row of solitary cells, where the inmates couldn't see each other. Of course they could hear, since sound is the one free thing in jail. But each cell had one side that was bars from floor to ceiling. along one side was a single iron bunk, and then a combination hand-sink with a toilet below. A single light bulb kept the cell in twilight the whole time.

All along the row of solitary cells, we had a camera that pointed into each cell. Since this row was used for suicide watch, the cameras helped the guards keep an eye on the perps 24-7.

Of all the cells there was one, just left of the middle in the row of 8 units, where the camera seemed to have the best view. By some fluke of lighting and acoustics, the guards could make a better recording of that one cell then any other in the whole facility. And for increased security, The camera on that unit was actually an infra-red camera. Over the years, dozens of perps had been filmed making an improvised knife, or brewing rotgut, or injecting illegal drugs.

The thing about that cell was, when the whole row was empty of inmates, that one camera turned on and off randomly, and frequently the footage would show a hanged figure dangling from the bars, even though there is no official record of any inmate successfully committing suicide in that cell. The guards routinely switched out the camera in that cell with other IR cameras in the facility. After being removed, the cameras always function perfectly elsewhere; while the one used for that cell inevitably begins to malfunction.

Now, any officer who had never been in the building previously, was ushered into that pod, and asked to identify which unit was "the" cell. Without question, each and every officer, whether fundamentalist Christian, Jew, Muslim, Psychic or Atheist, could "sense" which cell was the one where "the evil is kept."

One New Year's Eve, I and several other officers worked a triple shift. We were exhausted. One of the other officers demanded to be allowed to lay down somewhere, anywhere, and get a few hours of sleep before being sent out on another call. The guard told him that the only available cell was "THE" one. He agreed, but insisted no one else be allowed in the pod, even other officers, while he napped. He lay down with a clean blanket on the bunk, the door wide open; and slept for probably an hour and a half.

At the stroke of midnight, I was sitting with the guards, drinking coffee and BSing, when we heard screaming. It was not coming in over the intercom mikes in any of the cells. We could physically Hear the screams echoing down the hall from that pod. We looked up at the monitor of the camera in that cell. It was unaccountably turned to the IR setting, and wouldn't turn to regular video. We could see the officer squirming under the blanket, and the center of the blanket showing black---absolutely zero IR radiation---no heat whatsoever! The officer writhed and screamed, as the guards tried to get the cell to unlock automatically. Even though the door HAD been left open, for some reason it was now inexplicably closed. As I and two other cops raced down the hallway, we could hear the guards calling for the medical response team. By the time we made it to the cell, "Jim" had already ceased moving. Finally, after frantically trying every key at least twice, the right one was located, but it refused to budge. By this time, the medics and the Deputy director of the facility had arrived. But it was too late.

When we got the door open, "Jim" was already dead. There was dried blood in long streaks down from his nose. The medics, and later the county medical examiner, stated that he had been dead several hours by the time we opened the door. His death was ruled a massive heart attack, listed at a time before we even arrived at the facility. I was immediately re-assigned to another unit, and never got to compare notes with my partner or the others who were at the scene. But I noticed the all the other officers and guard were reassigned, or took jobs with other agencies.

I quit law enforcement a year or so after the incident, but that event was the spur that led to me compiling my own "X file" of unexplained phenomena. I still work on collecting information about the other witnesses to that event. I located one of them on facebook in the past year, but he has refused my friend request.

True story. Thats about all I can say.

Here's the Second:

I posted this here on ATS in 2005, it only got 5 responses. It concerns my experience investigating the infamous "Bell Witch of Tennessee," the source for the rip-off called the blair witch project.

Here's the meat of that post from 6 years ago:


I was in central Tennessee about 5 years ago now. I was staying at the home of a group of friends just north of Nashville, and I told them over Sunday brunch that I wanted to go see the Bell Witch. We talked about how several of them had heard that if you sat up till midnight, staring into a mirror and saying “I hate the Bell Witch,” she will appear in the mirror and reach out and scratch your face. They all said it was a crock, even though none of them had been there or researched it. I talked about my theories of the paranormal. I told them that even if there were no truth to the legend, it would be an interesting anthropological expedition, to visit the little town in the grips of the B.W. We all went to different rooms to take a nap. For my part, I dreamed of I was looking in the mirror over the dresser in the room I was napping in, and that instead of my reflection, there was a gray humanoid shape in the mirror, that slowly resolved into the image of an old hag in a shawl. She was cussing me for doubting her. I woke up with my hair standing on end. The other adults in the house were waking up, too. It seems we had EACH dreamed of the Bell Witch at the same instant.

None of us took the idea seriously, but now we definitely wanted to go and see the B. W. site. I got on the internet, and found a phone number for tours. I talked to the daughter of the family who runs the site. She sounded like a teenager and said her dad gave the tours, but that he and the rest of the family were ill. She added that if we wanted to come, she would give us a tour.

We ran to the car and zoomed off with an atlas in one hand and cameras in the other. The countryside is beautiful, rolling hills covered with corn and tobacco fields. We got lost several times, but finally found the tourist sign pointing to the Bell farm. The Bells have moved away decades ago. There are only two direct members of the family still alive, from what I remember. They don’t live in North America any more, and only contact the caretakers via lawyer.

We showed up and the young lady who was very sweet and produced THICK photo albums of various phenomena that had been photographed on the property, as well as copies of newspaper and magazine accounts of the Bell Witch. She recited a rehearsed lecture, and did a fair job of covering up her boredom as she went. She also had several thin books for sale, and I bought one of each.

The girl asked if we had flashlights. She kept going in the house and talking to her mom. She had walkie-talkies, and kept testing them over and over. I could tell that she was generally frightened, but assumed it was just a show for the tourists.

She led us down a gravel path, down to the river below the homesite. You could not have found the cave without a guide, even with the path, which disappears into the rocky face of a steep hill that must be scaled to get into the cave. There are handrails in the tough spots, but you need to be basically fit in order to get to it. Turns out the cave is directly below the house, but was undiscovered until members of the Bell family had already started dying off.

The girl gave an in-depth account of the history of the B.W., and pointed out different parts of the cave. It was nearly 100 F outside, but was in the low 70’s in the cave. There are blind, eyeless shrimp and crayfish in the creek that flows in the darkness of the cave. Her dad had installed lights in the ceiling, about a hundred yards into the cave. I realized that the girl was honestly shaking, and in her presentation about every “page” of information, she’d stop and call her dad by walkie-talkie, to tell him everything was still o.k.

She took us to the end of the lighted portion. She apologized but said that she would not take anyone any further, since flashlights often went dead for no reason. I noticed that she held onto a wall the whole time. She said that more than once the lights had failed during a tour, and she had had to crawl out in the dark by herself, leading other tourists who were mad and scared.

As we were talking in the central chamber of the cave, I noticed a cloud of mist forming between us while we were conversing. I asked the others if they saw it too. All said yes, including the guide. At first I speculated that the cloud was formed by warm air from the outside entering the cave and moving over the ice-cold water. But the mist was about 45 ft. from the brook, and was not swirling in any air currents. I walked around it, trying to find what was causing it. No one else could find an explanation. None of us are smokers. The girl was totally freaked out, and started calling for her dad on the walkie talkie, but it was totally dead. I trie

story continued:

I tried it myself, and the power LED on the unit wouldn’t light up. It didn’t even click when you keyed the mike, which most will do if they have any power at all. I got two pictures that came out. I wish I owned a scanner so I could post them. They were taken with a disposable Kodak and printed on regular glossy film. I didn’t know about getting them made to a floppy disc back then.

Anyway, all of us got pictures, and made our way out of the cave. The lights started flickering as we went out, and I will admit that my heart was racing and I was leaving. The lights finally failed as we saw the light coming in from the entrance. I will confess that I felt some presence, which seemed to cling to us the rest of the afternoon, until we had left Adams county, TN.

I remember asking the girl if she was related to the Bells and she said no. Her father had lost his job in Nashville, and saw an ad in the paper, for farm labor. The job turned out to be overseeing the Bell farm. The lawyers said he could operate it as a tourist attraction if he wished. She said that a number of families had tried over the years, none staying more than about 5 or 6 years. So I don’t know if her family is still doing it, or even if it’s still open as a tourist attraction.

I will say that the “fog” seemed aware; as soon as I commented on it, I thought it began moving TOWARDS me. My friends told me (once we were out of the county) that they had the same impression. I remember that I continued to have weird dreams for about 6 months afterward.

Personally, I believe the Bell Witch is a type of psychic vampire, that has learned to survive the first death, and forestall the dissolution of the psychic or astral body/self by feeding off of the strong emotions of others, especially their fear.

I also got the feeling that the Bell Witch was not a ghost or human disembodied spirit, but was an elemental that had developed consciousness, and enjoyed scaring the whole county.

I had occasion to interview a one-time county officer of Adams County a year or two later, and she told me that she agreed with my conclusions. She said that the creature could sense when anyone in town was thinking about ‘her,’ and would come if they continued to focus on her. She told about her son giving her a lift to the dentist, and his car stalling out when he had begun talking about what the Bell Witch ‘really was.’ She thought that the entity had basically migrated to the town of Adams, because there were more people there to be fed by, and that the town itself seemed more haunted that the Bell farm does now.

Here are some websites:
www.bellwitch.org...
www.bellwitchfansite.com...
www.ghosts.org...

Anyway, as soon as I can locate a scanner (maybe at kinko’s?) I’ll post the two or three pics I still have.

If you want to visit the Bell Witch Cave, I think you can find a website or call Adams, TN city hall, since it they hope to capitalize on the tourism that ought to come, but never seems to. Maybe too many people leave scared?

reply to post by dr_strangecraft


Is there a history of that particular cell that you are aware of?

It nowwhere nears compares to your story but we have an old sheriffs building by the courthouse that they report hearing footsteps all the time and smell coffee and breakfast cooking, the kitchen was removed 20 years ago during a remodeling.

The city is Ellicott City which is considered one of the most haunted on the eastern seaboard, the police have filed more then one report on strange goings on more then once. Especially at the Tiber River restaurant, which has so many issues that the staff have to work in pairs when closing.

Thank you for sharing!