Showing posts with label Tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tales. Show all posts
Friday, May 4, 2012
Your True Tales: May Stories
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Your True Tales - December 2004 - Page 16 - Missing Time and Out of Place
Your True Tales
November 2004 – Page 16
Missing Time and Out of Place
by Cher
I was leaving my driveway to drive one mile to town. There were woods and few houses along the way. I had just pulled out and there was a thick fog rolling in. Very creepy at night. I had only gone a half a block at most very slowly when I saw a very bright light through the fog. This was very strange since there was nothing near my house.
As I drove closer, I saw a Phillips 66 gas station. It wasn't there the day before. I pulled into it in shock and a man came out. I asked him how a gas station could have been built so fast and he looked at me strangely. He said it had been there for eight years.
I asked him where I was and when he told me I began to shake uncontrollaby. I was 300 miles from home! I looked at the clock and I had left my driveway only two minutes before. It took all night to drive home and I shook most of the way.
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Your True Tales - January 2005 - Page 34 - Mysterious Glow and Missing Time
Your True Tales
January 2005 – Page 34
Mysterious Glow and Missing Time
by Tras
The summer before I left for college, I participated as a leader on a retreat to the Daniel Boone National Forest in Kentucky. Retreatants are not permitted to wear watches and, coincidentally, among the retreat leaders that had watches, all but two were digital. On the final night of our seven day stay, all the batteries of the digital watches were dead, leaving no audible alarms to wake us in time to make the bus.
As the oldest, I volunteered to stay up all night and wake up the camp at five in the morning to make the trek out to where the bus would pick us up. Another leader, Matt, agreed to tough it out with me. Matt, three other leaders and I decided to sleep about a half mile away from the rest of camp on a large rock outcropping in the middle of the river. The river had carved a rather deep valley, and the base camp was on top of this valley.
Everyone had fallen asleep, and Matt and I busied ourselves purifying water for the hike out in the morning. It had been dark for no more than two hours when, looking down stream, a glow appeared to be coming down the valley to our location. Thinking it was one of our retreat members, Matt and I grabbed flashlights and headed up to great them and spare them the trek into the valley. As we scaled up to a bridge that spanned the river from a height of 30 feet or so, the glow appeared to have moved away from us. Matt and I watched it remain there as we smoked a cigarette, then decided it must be campers down the valley.
We went back to our rock outcropping, only to find the glow had now appeared to have moved toward us again. After a chat, we identified it as a confused member of our group and decided to hike closer to it to help them find us. Once again, the glow maintained distance from us, despite hiking to the point in which we felt we had seen it from below. Matt and returned back to our spot with the light hardly noticeable any longer.
It was barely past midnight as we jokingly talked about how it was too early for us to be getting delirious. However, the glow returned again to its familiar spot, so we consulted a sleeping friend to get his opinion. We asked him if he could see it, he said yes, then told us to wake him up when we had something important to tell him.
Matt and I laid down on the rock to have a cigarette and look for shooting stars. As we watched, Matt told me a few minutes later that the glow was gone again. Sure enough, it was. However, we heard someone shouting from above the valley saying, "Wake up!" Confused, we checked the watch to find it was nearly 5:30 a.m.! There was no way Matt and I had fallen asleep, as we both still had been smoking the cigarettes we lit before we laid back to look at the stars. We credit the mysterious glow for making five hours vanish instantly.
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Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Your True Tales: March Stories
Saturday, December 10, 2011
High School Doppelganger - Your True Tales - February 2007 - Page 18
Your True Tales
February 2007 - Page 18
High School Doppelganger
by Michua L.
This took place in Brownsville, Texas. For about 10 years friends and family have told me about a girl in town who HAS to be my twin. Back in high school I would wear my hair long and copper red. One night my aunt and uncle came over to my house. I greeted them at the door and very coldly I was shunned by my aunt. I wondered why she was ignoring me, and soon my mom had to question why she was mad. "Now she says hi to us. At the mall when she was with her friends, she just walked past us."
Both mom and I looked at each other. I had been grounded and not allowed to go anywhere because my grades were low. I explained to her that it couldn't have been me. Once she cooled down, she began to joke about it and said that this girl must have been my twin.
Three years after high school, I decided to dye my hair jet black and sport a more "goth" look to be more "individual" (yea right). I kept having friends call me up claiming that I had been in clubs dancing on tables and ignoring them and being loud. I have never been to a club in my life. (I don't smoke or drink or dance.) I thought maybe my look was too common and in the dark with the smoke they must have seen things.
Two years ago I had a student who works for the trade school I work for come up to me with a big smile and hugged me. I smiled back but was surprised at the greeting. "Long time I haven't seen you," he said, while his arms hugged tighter. I pretended like I knew who he was because I didn't want to be rude, but he kept talking. "I remember when we were in choir together. You remember that, Cindy?" I pushed him away slightly and eased to him that my name was not Cindy. His eyes opened wide and mouth hung open. "But you look exactly like her." His face grew red. "You must be her twin sister." I shook my head slowly. "No, sir. I only have two sisters and neither of them are named Cindy." He walked away and I could tell he was still thinking.
The most recent thing that happened was two weeks ago. I still work at the Career College in Brownsville, Texas and we usually have local banks come to our campus and promote to the students and staff. A very lovely young girl came over from a bank and was requesting permission to go back to the lounge. I told her to go and we started talking about the bank's promotion. Out of no where she stopped and smiled and said, "Wait a minute... you already know all this." I was confused and laughed with her. "No, what do you mean?" "I spoke to you early this morning at the St. Joe school? Yes, it was you. I remember. Even your hair was the same." I assured her it had not been me and she didn't want to believe me.
The weird thing is that about one month ago I cut off all my hair, dyed it auburn and got extensions on the bottom, which I have in a bun. Whoever this girl that looks like me is must have me under constant supervision since she always copies my hair styles! I don't know what's going on, but I hope to one day run into this look-alike!
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Friday, December 9, 2011
Your True Tales: December Stories
More true tales:
Monday, November 28, 2011
Phone Call from a Dry Future? - Your True Tales - January 2007 - Page 12
Your True Tales
January 2007 - Page 12
Phone Call from a Dry Future?
by D. F. Alves
I spent the first two decades of my life in a quiet New England town. At the far end of the town green, partially surrounded by a thick hedge, is a small bronze plaque marking the location of a time capsule buried in 1953 on the bicentennial of the town's founding. The capsule is still there, but my story concerns a two-week period when it was located in the trunk of my Cutlass Supreme.
On Thanksgiving night in the year I graduated college, a friend and I decided that when the town aldermen dedicated to capsule to "posterity," they meant us. While the satiated town drifted off to sleep, we unearthed the three-foot square riveted steel box and loaded it into my car. The capsule proved to be a tough nut to crack. We tried every tool in my father's garage before we resigned ourselves to the fact that only a blowtorch could reveal the contents of the capsule. Young as we were and unused to defeat, we fell to bickering and mutual recriminations. In the end I was stuck with the white elephant, and for lack of a better place, I decided to keep in the trunk of my car.
The next day the strange phone calls began. Oddly enough, they always came when I was alone in the house. When I picked up the receiver, a tinny, androgynous voice on the other end of the line would repeat: "Put the capsule back" or "It is very important that you put the capsule back" until I hung up. The voice talked straight through any questions I put to it, almost as though the speaker couldn't hear me.
My first thought was that the calls came from my co-conspirator, something that he steadfastly denied. Now I knew better than to take him for his word, but other circumstances made me think he was telling the truth. The phone calls were preceded by small but noticeable electrical anomalies in the house (i.e. flickering lights, poor TV and radio reception, the smell of ozone). Also - and this is difficult to put into words - the calls left me with blurry vision, muffled hearing, and a profound fatigue.
The last call, the one that drove me to leave the capsule on the steps of town hall, came on a Sunday morning when my parents were away at church. For several minutes prior to the first ring, I noticed that the house seemed to become charged with electricity. My every motion seemed to yield shocks that increased in severity. When the phone rang, the TV screen flickered and dissolved into the staticky pattern that people usually call "snow." The voice was louder than usual. The whole house was humming, as if the speaker were expending massive amounts of energy to contact me. The instant before I hung up, the TV screen was beginning to resolve into a silhouette of a face.
The calls stopped abruptly after I returned the capsule. I can only imagine that someone in the future had a very important reason for wanting the capsule to remain buried. The contents, which I researched at the local library, were unremarkable enough: a Leica camera, a baseball glove, a pewter mug with an engraved image of the high school mascot, a bottle of bourbon, a laminated copy of the town charter, an assortment of vacuum-sealed seeds from the local vegetable farm, etc. Is it possible that the caller was living in a time when the earth could no longer be cultivated, when humans had forgotten how to distill alcohol?
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Saturday, October 29, 2011
Spooky Tales of Halloween
Scary stories of encounters with ghosts at Halloween
SOME SAY THAT on Halloween, the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead is at its thinnest. This allows the spirits of that dark unknown place to more freely walk among us - making Halloween the spookiest time of year. Whether that is true or just a tradition, it's certain that the living are more focused on ghosts and the possibilities of the paranormal throughout October. As we see every month in Your True Tales, encounters with the unknown occur all year long, but when creepy things happen at Halloween, the feeling of the season makes them all the scarier. Dim the lights, light the candle in your jack-o-lantern and read about these confrontations with Halloween ghosts.
THE HAUNTED MILL
The following incident happened on Halloween night 2005. The only reason this is burned into my memory is because about six of us were witness to it so it often comes up in conversation. Plus we have the photos as proof.
There is a legend nearby, deep in the dark woods, of an old haunted mill. The story behind it is that a family of three used to live there: a father, mother and their four-year-old son. The mother apparently went crazy and drowned her son in the pond next to the house. When the father came home from working at the mill and found his son dead, he attacked the mother, and the fight ended in the attic with the mother shooting the father in the head with a rifle. It is said that she hid his body beneath the floorboards, then hung herself up in the attic.
The legend suggests if you go up in the attic and call the woman degrading names, she will appear to you. So, being the bored kids that we were, my five friends and I piled into my little car and drove to the haunted mill. I had my digital camera and was anxious to capture images of some ghosts. (I am a bit of skeptic, too, and am always finding excuses for the so-called "orbs" in photographs, constantly insisting that they are flecks of dust, bugs or drafts of light.)
The woods that the mill is settled in are always very dark, so the moonlight hardly penetrated the trees as we arrived at the old stone house. We all crept out of the car and were startled to see two large, black horses standing in front of the house. I quickly snapped a picture of them. Then we moved around, trying to find a way in. To our dismay, the only opening was a small window through the basement. We had to get down on our hands and knees to crawl through. As I bent down, I felt someone "push" me from behind. I cried out and looked around to see I was in last place, and I put my hand down to catch my balance, only to cry out again as my hand caught something thorny. I looked down and saw nothing unusual. Upon examining my hand, everything looked fine. It felt like I had barbs sticking into my skin, yet I couldn't see anything.
After we all squeezed in through the opening, we turned on our flashlights and began exploring the house. The walls, to our surprise, were all drywall, and we realized that the house wasn't as old as we had originally thought. Yet they were covered in graffitI - a lot of upside-down crosses and "666" signs, which didn't do much to calm our nerves. I took pictures in every room.
Finally, we made it up to the attic. We all huddled together in the center and held hands. Nobody wanted to shout the curses, so I, being the skeptic (and the bravest), decided to take on that role. I shouted some choice words into the darkness around us and we all held our breath, waiting. Nothing happened. We waited for about 15 minutes with no apparition of the woman's ghost. With a mixture of relief and disappointment, we turned and headed down the stairs.
Somehow I got in last place again, so I turned and snapped one more picture of the empty attic. I swear to you, as my flash bounced off the walls, I saw a lone female figure standing in the back corner. Terrified, I ran down the steps after my friends.
No more incidences happened, although when we got outside, the horses were nowhere to be found. I took one more picture of the house, one of the old crumbling barn, one of the pond and one of the eerie little shack we found in the backyard. Then we once again all piled into my car and left the premises.
When we got back to my friend's house, we hooked my camera up to the TV so we could sift through the pictures on a large screen. The results were pretty creepy. A picture of the horses captured them standing there, staring at us. Their eyes were red. Now I know that that often happens to people's and animals' eyes in pictures, but it was still unsettling to look at. The rooms in the house all had millions of orbs in them. I brushed it off until we viewed the pictures of the barn, the pond and the little shack. None of those had any orbs! Yet the picture of the house had tons of them! Weird.
The attic photo showed nothing unusual, unfortunately, so nobody believed me when I said I thought I saw something. But the last picture that someone had snapped of the side of the house was the creepiest. A few orbs appeared in the air, but one orb in particular was an odd, bluish-purple color, and there was the distinct outline of a skull.
I have the pictures still to this day and everyone I have shown them to all agree that they are very strange, and the "skull picture," as we dubbed it, is the most chilling picture I ever took. The weird thing is, the skull is looming directly over the place where I had snagged my hand on something. And in the following days, an odd rash appeared all over my fingers. It eventually went away, but the doctors had no idea what it was. And neither do I. - Samantha
Next page: The Tickling Ghost and Bloody Mary
Saturday, October 8, 2011
October Your True Tales
Our Halloween countdown begins with this epic October edition of Your True Tales delivering a whopping 36 fascinating true stories of ghosts, poltergeists, mysterious creatures, and time slips, including "Possessed Army Coat," "Cloaked Figure During Astral Flight," "Attacked By a Doll," "Smacked in Head by a Ghost," "Creature Under the Sink," "Gardener's Ghost," "Haunted Ham Radio," "Phantom Monkey Creature," "The Closet Entity"... and more.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
September Your True Tales
The September edition of Your True Tales delivers 35 fascinating true stories of ghosts, skinwalkers, time slips, and weird creatures, including:?"Angel Heals Baby," "Black-Eyed Kids Come Knocking," "Hanged Man's Voice," "Mother's Final Message," "Slapped Awake by a Ghost," "Amazing Coincidence on the Interstate," "Bald-Headed Ghost," "Grandma, What Scary Woods You Have,"... and more.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Your True Tales - July 2006 - Page 10 - Black-Eyed Waitress
Your True Tales
July 2006 - Page 10
Black-Eyed Waitress
by E. Forster
First, I just want to say that I have never been a believer in the supernatural, paranormal, etc. I think that everything has a logical explanation that maybe only seems "bizarre" because of a certain kind of over excitement that many people have about "an experience from the other side," or what have you. There is absolutely no explanation for what I'm about to share with you, and it absolutely scares the crap out of me. Just recounting this is giving me a really creepy feeling that I don't think I'll be able to shake, maybe ever.
About three years ago, I was sitting in a local coffee shop in upstate New York during a little road trip. The restaurant was empty except for me and the night waitress. She was really pleasant and talked a lot; she was offering places to check out while I was in town and seemed amazingly astute. In fact, she seemed almost prescient, even guessing my age almost to the day and month and even certain things that I was actually planning to do the next day. It was so light-hearted, I thought I really lucked out by meeting a easy-going, smart young lady quite out my my normal way.
At closing time, she went to the back to, I guess, put some cash in the safe or something. As I was sitting there wondering what time I wanted to get up and hit the road again the next day, I momentarily thought I might even invite her for a few hours of "R&R." I decided instead to just remember the store and next time I passed through the area, to remember to stick my head in a say "hi" (no reason, I just wanted to play it cool and not seem overanxious at very first).
So, I got up and knocked on the door in the back of the coffee shop where she went in. At this time, there were only two dim lights in the main eating area, and barely any lights in the back room where she was. I opened the door. This woman who I just finished talking to was standing facing me, JUST STANDING THERE in the back of this dark room when I opened the door. Her skin was suddenly a clammy, cracked olive color, and her eyes were just BLACK. I mean, no white at all. Her eyes and mouth was open really wide, and she was screaming in the most spine-chilling sounds, something I couldn't understand, but it definitely wasn't sounds of goodwill.
I literally SCREAMED myself, and she started moving from one spot to the other through the room. Not running, just MOVING. Her clothes now looked all old, and she moved so fast; the back of the room must have been 15 feet or so back, and she just DARTED from one side of the back of the room, still facing me, to the other side, at an IMPOSSIBLE speed. Then she ran directly straight at me as I was now standing away from the door in the middle of the restaurant.
I got the hell out of there, and jumped in my car still seeing her nightmarish face in the restaurant, darting it seemed to every window at this impossible velocity. The worst thing was, as I tore out of the parking lot ... I looked in my rear view mirror ... and she was SITTING IN THE BACK SEAT, still with that nightmarish expression, still screaming. Then she just vanished as I was panicking around. Just gone. I don't know what that was that spoke to me in the restaurant that day, but I know that it wasn't a prank. I swear at night sometimes I see her shadow moving in the dark in my room, just grinning a really ugly, evil grin. I haven't slept properly since.
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