I think the "Mexican Lion" is supposed to be a different subspecies of mountain lion.
It certainly seems plausible that there is interbreeding between the central american mountain lions and the north american ones, especially around Texas. It also seems plausible that the hybrids may tend to enjoy some amount of hybrid vigor. On the other hand, I don't think it's terribly likely that cross-subspecies would create a mule. Generally you only get infertile hybrids when you're breeding across species with different numbers of chromosomes (horses have 64 while donkeys have 62, for example) because the mismatch causes problems in the potential offspring. I suspect the infertility part might just be a bit of folk lore, especially since it's not even clear how you would go about determining it.
The core of the story seems pretty reasonable - that there is a hybrid mountain lion which displays increased aggression and power. Some of the details strike me as possible embellishments though.
It is very hard to get a proper name from the locals on South Texas. They don't use the interent or barely read books to give you an educated response of what X animal is. TexMex speak/words are very cross explaining for many things. Kind of like "marklar" from South Park. Nearly drove me nuts trying learn the little things down there with horse tack and names of animal parts. Thus I have no idea what a Mexican Lion looks like, but suspect it is a Juguar or panther. There is a sub species of Puma in Mexico as stated above, but I have yet to visually see one myself. All I have to go on is the "mexican lion". I now know how Jeremy Wade sometimes feels when trying to track down a rare fish with certain locals.
That tail was long on the Once' Re'al. Way to long. The head was also very strange as it struck me as being "off".
I can't offer anymore evidence for you all. Anyone else have any animal encounters?
One more post about felines and I'm petitioning to have the thread title changed.
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This is true to the best of my memory. I remember the names of the two guys but not who said what and there isn't any need of back story. I'm going by the emphasis on REAL meaning true as opposed to terrifying.
About 10 years a go, some friends of mine decided to get a Ouija Board and find out if it was true. We were spending most nights together drinking and playing stupid games so why not? The first time we tried, it barely moved, spelled a word we didn't know, and creeped out some of the girls to the point of crying - although she was **** faced so who knows what the real cause was.
The second time, several weeks later, it actually started to respond coherently. There were three of us though and I was very skeptical of the other two people's honesty. "It" gave a Native American name that seemed like it might be male and when asked where he was, like heaven or hell or whatever, it just responded with "here". All three of us were touching the little triangle thing in the middle and surprisingly, one of the other two guys suggested we drop to two people and take turns to see if it wasn't one of us doing it. At first it didn't respond with two. We tried a different two and still no response. We tried three again and still nothing. After a short time it started again but maybe half the speed it was before, let's say from ant speed to snail speed. We asked Him if it was hard to talk to us and He pointed to the "No" on the board. We asked Him if He needed all three of us to touch it (the little triangle guide thing) and it moved in a little circle and went back to "No" again. We asked Him some more questions that I don't really remember. Family stuff etc but nothing that was terribly exciting. Then someone asked Him how he died. He said "Murder". Who killed you we asked? "Family" he responded. That was a little creepy. We asked Him what happened and the thing started moving very quickly compared to what it had been but wasn't really stopping on letters. We tried to get Him to repeat it and the thing slid down off the board to where one of the pegs hit the carpet and stopped.
We took a few minutes to drink about it and decided to try again. Some genius decided to turn the lights off and light a single candle at the top of it. At first, nothing happened again. I guess in the spirit world it is difficult to communicate to three drunk jerks without any common sense. When we had fully got to the point of ridiculing the dead for being lazy and selfish etc, the little triangle thing (I refuse to look up what it is called) sort of jumped on the board. Not like jumped up but like it was almost shoved out from under our fingers. We asked Him why it took so long to respond and He said "What". We asked if it was the same person we had been speaking with before and the little triangle thing sort of made a slide back and forth on the board and then went up and pointed to "Yes". We asked if He was lying and He said "Yes". Who cares about truth when the dead are talking? We asked it what it's name was and it paused for a little while and then spelled out the same Native American name again. By this time we figured screw it, it was responding pretty strongly, so we decided to try doing the alternating people thing again. So some of these responses are with different sets of two out of the same three people but It didn't seem to notice. We asked it what year it died. Ouija boards have numbers on them so it could actually just hover over numbers instead of having to spell them out and it came up with a year that was hundreds of years a go. I can't be certain but my mind contributed 1642 but that seems like such a non random number that I think I probably made it up. We asked it where it had died and it actually started with numbers and ended with a full street address that one of my friends recognized because he delivered pizza in the area. We asked it again if it would tell us how it died and it spelled out "horribly" which was creepy enough that I remember that was the word it used. Naturally, we were more interested than ever. We asked it to tell us if it would tell us how it died this time and it actually went up and pointed to "Yes" first and then started trucking around on the board like it was remote controlled. I remember thinking this had to be complete ****ery and saying as such because I wasn't touching it at the time. But, one of the other two guys said something like, "So take my place" and removed his hands. The thing didn't even slow down. We two who now weren't touching the magical plastic spirit communicator stared at our third friend like he was the biggest jerk that ever lived and so he took his fingers off and it actually kept moving for a good two inches or so. Not like it was pushed and needed friction to slow down but was on a curve and continued the curve for a good full second.
So we all got another beer and talked it over. It had spelled out - and keep in mind that I remember the sentence being very dramatic and I'm positive the meaning ended up being what I will reveal later but this might be some hocus pocus on my part to convey the sense of how we felt - "My mother poisoned me for ra". The three of us took turns arguing about what that meant while the two of us who hadn't been touching it there at the last bit took turns accusing the third guy that it was him the whole time even though it HAD moved for the two of us by ourselves for a little while. Anyway, we got back down on the floor and tried again but chose to exclude number three for a minute. I put my fingers on the Ouija triangle and then my buddy put his on and the thing immediately started moving again but not as fast as it had been before. It made like a little screwy circle and then spelled out "what". We apologized and asked for it to tell us again how it died and it slowly spelled out "My mother poisoned me for raping my sister." At this point we were all pretty drunk, skeptical, and tired and that was one hell of a sentence so we called it a night.
The next morning, someone suggested we drive over and see the house and maybe get some breakfast. Sure enough, the street that it had given us existed and was in the right number range for the house to exist. I'm going to say the house number was 1001 and we were in the 900 block just for story purpose since I can't remember the street name anymore. As we cleared the 990s of houses the odd number side that the house should have been on turned into a little man made drainage ditch all the way to the next cross street and picked up again on the other side at like 1007 or something which would have put the address right in the middle of 'lake'. It still didn't explain why a supposed native american ghost from several hundred years a go would know a street name in a city that was only maybe 50 years old. I remember trying to use the internet to see if I could find anything but this was back 10 years a go when AOL dial up was lightning fast and it took 10 minutes to load a single picture.
Moral of the story? Four hundred year old native american ghosts may or may not be suffering eternity waiting for three drunk losers to talk to.
Some crazy stories here guys. Here comes my scary story...
I've deleted my story cause i'm too scare to write it on the net =/
Can't you change a few details so it's not as personal and post it? I want to hear it! Let's stop arguing about cats and hear some scary stories. Remember they don't have to be supernatural! Neither of the ones I posted are supernatural at all, just scary.
Here's my story, although it is scary in a different way from the others so far. It is not creepy but still terrifying and absolutely true (though I may have forgotten/mixed up some details as is common with human memory).
Warning: Squeemish Need Not Apply
Some years ago (2006 or 2007) I went on a long trip through Europe with some college friends. There were 4 of us in total, a couple (who had been apart for a year because one was studying abroad in Sweden) and me and another friend who had been studying abroad in Copenhagen. We started in Copenhagen right after my friend finished his study abroad term. From there we went through the Netherlands, to Utrecht and Amsterdam enjoying the night life and museums and getting used to culture shock (at least I was). Then Paris, where we enjoyed the crazy party on the lawn/park? in front of the Eiffel Tower. From there, to Spain and Barcelona, where we stayed right off of Las Ramblas and one night walked high above the city and drank cheap wine and smoked American Jeans cigarettes. We traveled through Spain some more, down to Cadiz, and then headed back north on our way to Italy. On the way to Rome we got stopped on the rails of an Italian train for 5-6 hours, it was an utter nightmare, no explanation whatsoever, just sitting there waiting for the train to move again. When we got to Rome, we had been travelling for about 4 weeks and were running out of money. One friend bowed out after a couple of days in Rome and headed back to Copenhagen to wait stay with friends until his plane back to the states. From there the 3 of us, the couple and myself, headed to Munich. When we arrived at Munich, the couple bowed out immediately (like 4 hours after we got there!) and headed back to Sweden, so I was by myself with about 2 weeks until my flight back to the states. My plan was to travel to Czech, Poland, back to Germany and then fly back to the states. On my way to Czech I stopped at Heidelberg, DE.
In Heidelberg, I found a hostel relatively quickly. It was a school, right next to a zoo, that they rented out in the summer as a hostel. I was a little worried at first, about being on my own, but it wasn't too bad. I checked in and then went about the town. There is/was an American military base at Heidelberg, so I met some Americans and Germans who showed me around and we had a grand night out, drinking and bar-hopping, and ending up very thoroughly drunk. The highlight being finding a divey/punk bar where when the Dead Kennedy's "Nazi Punks F*** Off!" came on, and the whole bar joined in screaming and singing at the top of their drunken lungs. I go to bed very drunk and contented at having a great time by myself and looking forward to my next 1-2 weeks of travelling.
In the morning, I woke up in a very bad way. I was extremely bleary, hungry, hung-over, and generally feeling poorly. My room had 8-10 beds and was filled to capacity, though, I was alone when I awoke, everyone had went to breakfast. I stumbled out of bed and threw some clothes on, and stumbled down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast. Since the breakfast was included in the room fee it was all cold: cereal, granola, fruit, etc. I get myself some cereal and coffee and wearily begin to eat, hoping to kill this god-awful hang-over. The meal was uninspired and about half-way through my stomach wasn't feeling so good. It was one of those hang-overs where you are hungry but absolutely no food is appealing and when you do eat you have to force it down. So I get up and bus my table, with plans to go to the bathroom immediately thereafter. As I leave the cafeteria I see a sign in German that looks like a restroom (male/female symbols included), so I saunter in that direction, which is away from my room. The signs lead me down some stairs into a hallway, with a sea of lockers on each side. I walk down the hallway a bit, and things start getting serious. I've really got to go, I walk further and no bathroom. My stomach subsides a little, so I decide to go back to the room. I go up the stairs and I get hit with stomach cramps full force, I've really got to go now. One more flight of stairs and I am full out running to my room, sweat breaking out all over me. By the time I get to the room door things are very desperate and I am ready to explode. The room key was a magnetic thing like hotels, I had it in a back pocket of my jeans. I was shuffling so much trying to keep everything in, that I had trouble getting it out of my pocket. I am in a very bad way by now. I get it out and swipe it, red light, door won't open, must've swiped it backwards. Before I can try again I can't hold it anymore and let go. The feeling of relief, for 1-2 seconds was amazing, then the horror set in. I had let go of what felt like a gallon of post-drinking diarrhea, in a hallway of a hostel, standing outside my room. It flowed down my leg, filled up my shoe, overflowed onto the floor and left a good 12" diarrhea-pancake batter pool on the floor directly in front of the door. I stood there paralyzed, going clammy, in shock. I finally got my senses about me and opened the door with the card that was still in my hand. I walk in tracking large brown streaks on the linoleum-tiled floor. When the door shuts I freeze again, unsure of what to do. After maybe 10-15 seconds, I hear activity outside the door, the other roomies are coming back from breakfast! This is one of the most terrifying moments of my life. I waddle over to the shower, turn the water on and jump in right when the door opens, and then begin to silently cry. This moment was my lowest, standing in the shower fully clothed, alone in a place far from home and friends, with diarrhea tracks everywhere. The guy who came into the room, left right quick, and I started going to work. I cleaned my shoes as best I could in the shower (they were all I had so I had to keep them), then balled up everything I was wearing. Luckily the room stayed empty for a while. I tried my best to clean up the streaks and the pool outside the door with toilet paper, but it really just smeared it around everywhere. So, I carried my soiled clothes and walked all the way out to the front door and threw them out in the trash outside. It had to be around 8-9 in the morning at this time. I spent the rest of the day aimlessly wandering around the city thoroughly depressed and alone and with wet shoes (it was cloudy and rainy as well). I quietly came back to my room late, late at night and woke up early and left to more European adventures.
Here's my story, although it is scary in a different way from the others so far. It is not creepy but still terrifying and absolutely true (though I may have forgotten/mixed up some details as is common with human memory).
Warning: Squeemish Need Not Apply
Some years ago (2006 or 2007) I went on a long trip through Europe with some college friends. There were 4 of us in total, a couple (who had been apart for a year because one was studying abroad in Sweden) and me and another friend who had been studying abroad in Copenhagen. We started in Copenhagen right after my friend finished his study abroad term. From there we went through the Netherlands, to Utrecht and Amsterdam enjoying the night life and museums and getting used to culture shock (at least I was). Then Paris, where we enjoyed the crazy party on the lawn/park? in front of the Eiffel Tower. From there, to Spain and Barcelona, where we stayed right off of Las Ramblas and one night walked high above the city and drank cheap wine and smoked American Jeans cigarettes. We traveled through Spain some more, down to Cadiz, and then headed back north on our way to Italy. On the way to Rome we got stopped on the rails of an Italian train for 5-6 hours, it was an utter nightmare, no explanation whatsoever, just sitting there waiting for the train to move again. When we got to Rome, we had been travelling for about 4 weeks and were running out of money. One friend bowed out after a couple of days in Rome and headed back to Copenhagen to wait stay with friends until his plane back to the states. From there the 3 of us, the couple and myself, headed to Munich. When we arrived at Munich, the couple bowed out immediately (like 4 hours after we got there!) and headed back to Sweden, so I was by myself with about 2 weeks until my flight back to the states. My plan was to travel to Czech, Poland, back to Germany and then fly back to the states. On my way to Czech I stopped at Heidelberg, DE.
In Heidelberg, I found a hostel relatively quickly. It was a school, right next to a zoo, that they rented out in the summer as a hostel. I was a little worried at first, about being on my own, but it wasn't too bad. I checked in and then went about the town. There is/was an American military base at Heidelberg, so I met some Americans and Germans who showed me around and we had a grand night out, drinking and bar-hopping, and ending up very thoroughly drunk. The highlight being finding a divey/punk bar where when the Dead Kennedy's "Nazi Punks F*** Off!" came on, and the whole bar joined in screaming and singing at the top of their drunken lungs. I go to bed very drunk and contented at having a great time by myself and looking forward to my next 1-2 weeks of travelling.
In the morning, I woke up in a very bad way. I was extremely bleary, hungry, hung-over, and generally feeling poorly. My room had 8-10 beds and was filled to capacity, though, I was alone when I awoke, everyone had went to breakfast. I stumbled out of bed and threw some clothes on, and stumbled down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast. Since the breakfast was included in the room fee it was all cold: cereal, granola, fruit, etc. I get myself some cereal and coffee and wearily begin to eat, hoping to kill this god-awful hang-over. The meal was uninspired and about half-way through my stomach wasn't feeling so good. It was one of those hang-overs where you are hungry but absolutely no food is appealing and when you do eat you have to force it down. So I get up and bus my table, with plans to go to the bathroom immediately thereafter. As I leave the cafeteria I see a sign in German that looks like a restroom (male/female symbols included), so I saunter in that direction, which is away from my room. The signs lead me down some stairs into a hallway, with a sea of lockers on each side. I walk down the hallway a bit, and things start getting serious. I've really got to go, I walk further and no bathroom. My stomach subsides a little, so I decide to go back to the room. I go up the stairs and I get hit with stomach cramps full force, I've really got to go now. One more flight of stairs and I am full out running to my room, sweat breaking out all over me. By the time I get to the room door things are very desperate and I am ready to explode. The room key was a magnetic thing like hotels, I had it in a back pocket of my jeans. I was shuffling so much trying to keep everything in, that I had trouble getting it out of my pocket. I am in a very bad way by now. I get it out and swipe it, red light, door won't open, must've swiped it backwards. Before I can try again I can't hold it anymore and let go. The feeling of relief, for 1-2 seconds was amazing, then the horror set in. I had let go of what felt like a gallon of post-drinking diarrhea, in a hallway of a hostel, standing outside my room. It flowed down my leg, filled up my shoe, overflowed onto the floor and left a good 12" diarrhea-pancake batter pool on the floor directly in front of the door. I stood there paralyzed, going clammy, in shock. I finally got my senses about me and opened the door with the card that was still in my hand. I walk in tracking large brown streaks on the linoleum-tiled floor. When the door shuts I freeze again, unsure of what to do. After maybe 10-15 seconds, I hear activity outside the door, the other roomies are coming back from breakfast! This is one of the most terrifying moments of my life. I waddle over to the shower, turn the water on and jump in right when the door opens, and then begin to silently cry. This moment was my lowest, standing in the shower fully clothed, alone in a place far from home and friends, with diarrhea tracks everywhere. The guy who came into the room, left right quick, and I started going to work. I cleaned my shoes as best I could in the shower (they were all I had so I had to keep them), then balled up everything I was wearing. Luckily the room stayed empty for a while. I tried my best to clean up the streaks and the pool outside the door with toilet paper, but it really just smeared it around everywhere. So, I carried my soiled clothes and walked all the way out to the front door and threw them out in the trash outside. It had to be around 8-9 in the morning at this time. I spent the rest of the day aimlessly wandering around the city thoroughly depressed and alone and with wet shoes (it was cloudy and rainy as well). I quietly came back to my room late, late at night and woke up early and left to more European adventures.
Wow. Your issue is hereditable cause it runs in the genes.
That story may fall under depressing or psychological. Interesting read nonetheless.
A little prologue before I begin my story. I am both an atheist and a skeptic. When people tell me their personal ghost/demon stories, I don’t necessarily believe they are lying, I simply believe that if you strip away embellishment and take into account possible hallucinations/substance abuse/lucid dreams, there is a perfectly rational explanation for whatever it is they experienced. I give this prologue every time I tell this story to illustrate that I am NOT the: “OMG! Look at the orbs! Spirits are everywhere!” type of person. Tell me one million “true” ghost stories and I’ll give you one million rational explanations. I even have a rational explanation for this experience, but there is still that tiny little voice in the back of my head that asks; “what if your ‘rational’ explanation is wrong?”
Anyway, it was fall of 1997. My first college quarter (my school was on the quarter system, not semester system) was winding down making it November/December. I lived in school sponsored housing at Allegheny Center, building 7, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania – a studio apartment with a roommate Lance. Lance had dropped out, moved back to Ohio, and I had the place to myself although a few of his effects remained – his bed, some furniture, the heavy crap you grab with one final U-Haul trip after you’ve car-loaded all your clothes and other junk out.
Let me take a detour here to describe Allegheny Center building 7. Although it was technically a 10-story apartment building, it was basically a college dorm. It’s not super old by any means but, in its time it’s seen its share of death – during my two-year stay two students fell to their deaths (one accidental, one deliberate), but those deaths happened after the event I will describe. Also, Allegheny Center is on Pittsburgh’s North Side, the oldest part of a very old city. Because of the number of deaths, the building’s location, as well as the ample substance abuse that comes with any college dorm, there is NO shortage of “ghost” or “demon” stories that come from anyone who has ever lived in Allegheny Center. Get ten college kids sitting around the bong, one-upping one another’s “creepy” experiences, and you’d think Allegheny Center was Cthulhu’s personal back yard. I was not into drugs or alcohol during my time there (having long since satisfied my wild-child days in high school up in Michigan where I grew up), and I was a very serious and dedicated student who put his schooling first. I never shared this story with anyone until years later, not because I felt people would not believe me, but because I knew they WOULD believe me just like they believed all the crap “supernatural” stories that kids tell each other. My experience was not to be lumped into other people’s embellishments and drunken hallucinations. My experience was genuine.
Ok, back to my story. On some nights, before I went to sleep, I would take one of my dumbbells and crack the door to my studio apartment. While I was a dedicated student, I was NOT above using nonverbal communication to tell whatever female I was interested in at the time that her company was welcome at any hour. The dumbbell in the door was my 19-year-old mind’s idea of being smooth. This practice would send a long shaft of yellow hallway light down a short corridor into my studio apartment across my roommate Lance’s bed. It would be the only light in an otherwise pitch-black room. I was (and still am) an extremely light sleeper, so I was never worried about someone coming in while I was asleep without me being aware.
My bed was on the opposite side of the room, and I was trying to get to sleep, when my studio door swung open. The shaft of light from the hallway abruptly widened before narrowing again as the door slammed closed against my dumbbell. A silhouette walked into my room and sat upright, feet on the floor, facing me on my roommate’s bed with the thin shaft of hallway light behind it.
This was odd because, a girl would have come over to my bed and made her presence known. So, after a moment of strange stillness I called out “Carolyn?” Carolyn was a female friend of mine who would not have slipped into bed with me, but might visit me at an odd hour of the night to chat or hang out.
There was no answer and the shadow just continued to sit on Lance’s bed, staring at me, in silence.
“Lance?” I called out again thinking perhaps Lance had come back to Pittsburgh for some odd reason. He technically still had access to the building until he was completely moved out and, although it would be strange, it was not outside the realm of possibility that he had simply arrived super late.
The silhouette answered back in a strange hollow, completely androgynous voice that absolutely did NOT belong to Carolyn or Lance; “Maybe I am.”
I shot upright, and turned on the lamp on my night stand. I looked back to where the shadow had been sitting, and there was nothing.
There was no way anyone could have moved an inch, let alone left the room in the time it took me to take my eyes off the figure to turn on the lamp, and back again. Regardless I sprang out of bed checked the hallway, removed the dumbbell, and closed my apartment door. I quickly scoured my apartment for person-sized hiding places (of which there was only beneath the beds and in the bathroom).
Nothing. Unnerved, I got dressed and decided to leave my apartment and try and find some friends who might be hanging out late somewhere. Until the end of the quarter I could not get to sleep in that apartment and I immediately requested to be consolidated into a different apartment when a spot opened up.
That may be a lot of lead-up to a very brief experience. My rational explanation is that I was having a lucid dream – the hope for unexpected company manifesting unconsciously as the perception of actual company in my pre-REM twilight sleep. I have never experienced a lucid dream before, or since, but that is the only explanation I can come up with… that, or it’s a creepy shadow monster lurking in Allegheny Center who just decided to scare the crap out of a 19-year-old kid.
Take my story as you will, but it is absolutely true and devoid of embellishment – diluted only by the erosion of sixteen years of memory. I am not easily frightened and, perhaps because of my inability to be phased, this experience will always be with me as one of the very few times I have ever been scared in my adult life.
@incarna. Interesting tale and quite frightening from an unknown enemy perspective. Some Ghosts just can't help messing with sasquatch. Just play polka music at the high decibel possible for 3 days in the haunted area. It will kill or run off anything.
A little prologue before I begin my story. I am both an atheist and a skeptic. When people tell me their personal ghost/demon stories, I don’t necessarily believe they are lying, I simply believe that if you strip away embellishment and take into account possible hallucinations/substance abuse/lucid dreams, there is a perfectly rational explanation for whatever it is they experienced. I give this prologue every time I tell this story to illustrate that I am NOT the: “OMG! Look at the orbs! Spirits are everywhere!” type of person. Tell me one million “true” ghost stories and I’ll give you one million rational explanations. I even have a rational explanation for this experience, but there is still that tiny little voice in the back of my head that asks; “what if your ‘rational’ explanation is wrong?”
Anyway, it was fall of 1997. My first college quarter (my school was on the quarter system, not semester system) was winding down making it November/December. I lived in school sponsored housing at Allegheny Center, building 7, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania – a studio apartment with a roommate Lance. Lance had dropped out, moved back to Ohio, and I had the place to myself although a few of his effects remained – his bed, some furniture, the heavy crap you grab with one final U-Haul trip after you’ve car-loaded all your clothes and other junk out.
Let me take a detour here to describe Allegheny Center building 7. Although it was technically a 10-story apartment building, it was basically a college dorm. It’s not super old by any means but, in its time it’s seen its share of death – during my two-year stay two students fell to their deaths (one accidental, one deliberate), but those deaths happened after the event I will describe. Also, Allegheny Center is on Pittsburgh’s North Side, the oldest part of a very old city. Because of the number of deaths, the building’s location, as well as the ample substance abuse that comes with any college dorm, there is NO shortage of “ghost” or “demon” stories that come from anyone who has ever lived in Allegheny Center. Get ten college kids sitting around the bong, one-upping one another’s “creepy” experiences, and you’d think Allegheny Center was Cthulhu’s personal back yard. I was not into drugs or alcohol during my time there (having long since satisfied my wild-child days in high school up in Michigan where I grew up), and I was a very serious and dedicated student who put his schooling first. I never shared this story with anyone until years later, not because I felt people would not believe me, but because I knew they WOULD believe me just like they believed all the crap “supernatural” stories that kids tell each other. My experience was not to be lumped into other people’s embellishments and drunken hallucinations. My experience was genuine.
Ok, back to my story. On some nights, before I went to sleep, I would take one of my dumbbells and crack the door to my studio apartment. While I was a dedicated student, I was NOT above using nonverbal communication to tell whatever female I was interested in at the time that her company was welcome at any hour. The dumbbell in the door was my 19-year-old mind’s idea of being smooth. This practice would send a long shaft of yellow hallway light down a short corridor into my studio apartment across my roommate Lance’s bed. It would be the only light in an otherwise pitch-black room. I was (and still am) an extremely light sleeper, so I was never worried about someone coming in while I was asleep without me being aware.
My bed was on the opposite side of the room, and I was trying to get to sleep, when my studio door swung open. The shaft of light from the hallway abruptly widened before narrowing again as the door slammed closed against my dumbbell. A silhouette walked into my room and sat upright, feet on the floor, facing me on my roommate’s bed with the thin shaft of hallway light behind it.
This was odd because, a girl would have come over to my bed and made her presence known. So, after a moment of strange stillness I called out “Carolyn?” Carolyn was a female friend of mine who would not have slipped into bed with me, but might visit me at an odd hour of the night to chat or hang out.
There was no answer and the shadow just continued to sit on Lance’s bed, staring at me, in silence.
“Lance?” I called out again thinking perhaps Lance had come back to Pittsburgh for some odd reason. He technically still had access to the building until he was completely moved out and, although it would be strange, it was not outside the realm of possibility that he had simply arrived super late.
The silhouette answered back in a strange hollow, completely androgynous voice that absolutely did NOT belong to Carolyn or Lance; “Maybe I am.”
I shot upright, and turned on the lamp on my night stand. I looked back to where the shadow had been sitting, and there was nothing.
There was no way anyone could have moved an inch, let alone left the room in the time it took me to take my eyes off the figure to turn on the lamp, and back again. Regardless I sprang out of bed checked the hallway, removed the dumbbell, and closed my apartment door. I quickly scoured my apartment for person-sized hiding places (of which there was only beneath the beds and in the bathroom).
Nothing. Unnerved, I got dressed and decided to leave my apartment and try and find some friends who might be hanging out late somewhere. Until the end of the quarter I could not get to sleep in that apartment and I immediately requested to be consolidated into a different apartment when a spot opened up.
That may be a lot of lead-up to a very brief experience. My rational explanation is that I was having a lucid dream – the hope for unexpected company manifesting unconsciously as the perception of actual company in my pre-REM twilight sleep. I have never experienced a lucid dream before, or since, but that is the only explanation I can come up with… that, or it’s a creepy shadow monster lurking in Allegheny Center who just decided to scare the crap out of a 19-year-old kid.
Take my story as you will, but it is absolutely true and devoid of embellishment – diluted only by the erosion of sixteen years of memory. I am not easily frightened and, perhaps because of my inability to be phased, this experience will always be with me as one of the very few times I have ever been scared in my adult life.
Wow. Your issue is hereditable cause it runs in the genes.
That story may fall under depressing or psychological. Interesting read nonetheless.
lol what that story falls on funny stories.
Ok' i will tell my story.
One day, when I was a kid, I was hanging out with two friends on the outside park in the building I live in. It was pretty late at night and we were telling each other some fake scary stories. The doorman of the building overheard us and came to tell the story that would haunt me and my friends for the rest of our lives.
He said he worked on this building since it's construction. This building have subterranean parking lot but he said initially it would have two floor of subterranean parking lots. It was when the workers started to dig the second underground floor that the company suddenly decided a median class building wouldn't need so much space for cars and decided to scrap that second floor project. The weird thing was, when they decided to 'close' the second underground floor, they send the workers, including the building doorman, in vacation for some time (I don't remember the precise number).
When the doorman and the other workers returned, the second underground floor was already closed and much of the work in the first underground floor was done. Not much was asked about in the time (as not many would complain about extra remunerated vacations). Still rumors started to spread among the workers and the engineer staff. They said the second floor was still there. Some said it was designed to be a mafia corpse dumper, others said it was a secret torture club or a satanic death cult...
Anyway this story scared the crap out of me and my friends. At first we started to just forget it but paranoia and curiosity drove us to actually explore the parking lot and search for this secret underground floor. We quickly found that one part of the parking lot was out of our sight view.
There is a warehouse were families could leave old junk (such as old forniture). It's a very strange place. It is like a very long (like a doorway) three wall room. The forth wall is actually iron bars and it is were the entrance is. Some junk was thrown there and because of that we haven't sight contact with part of the room. This place was also always lock up and located in the corner of the building.
I told my parents the whole story and they didn't even knew (despite living there for more then a decade) the warehouse was there. We had the courage to ask the doorman the keys but he told us he didn't had it. I asked my parent (who was the representative of the neighbors association) and he didn't found the key in his office either. He told me the construction company forgot to give the buildings staff the key to the place and had to get another key. They never gave the key and people never bothered to ask then. After this dead end me and my friends gave up.
A few years later the cat pet of a neighbor who wondered the building at night decided to make the place his new home. One day the cat insisted in not going out of the place and the guy who owned the guy started to look for the damn key. The construction company weren't giving as a key in the middle of the night, so we decide to call a keymaker to change the keyhole. For everyone's surprise he couldn't because the iron bars were freaking brutally secure (jail-like security). In the end of the night, the cat came out and everyone forgot about the warehouse and the mysterious key once again... But not me and my friends. Every now and then me and my friends sneaked in the parking lot and observed the place. We also tried other things, such as throwing a camera with a string to see what was in the blind spot of the room, which actually broke the camera. One day we realized some of the objects inside the room had changed places. One of my friend realized there was a strange smell there was well. To this day I don't know what was that smell.
For one reason or another, me and my friends dropped the subject slowly as we never found anything about the place. Most of my friends don't live here anymore and I don't talk a lot with those who do.
Many, many years later (like one decade later) I was returning from a midnight movie (it was about 5:00 AM) and heard some freaking noise in the parking lot. I looked around and find ****ing construction workers inside the place PAINTING IT'S WALL. I got leviathan sized spine shivers and almost thrown up. I just tried to control my fear and stayed there, waiting for the elevator, while some workers kept staring at me. The wait might have took 20 seconds but for me it felt like 10 minutes. Finally I went to home, took some medicine and didn't slept that day.
A few days later I told this event to my father, who told me the company was just making a reform in the parking lot. Strangely the reform was not called by the neighbors association (some expert from the company went to here one day and said we needed a reform for safety reasons. The association said we haven't money and they actually made it with huge discount). If the reform was about safety, why they are painting the inside walls of a room that was (supposedly) never used by anyone in 20 years ? How the objects were moving inside the place if no one in the building had the keys ? Why are workers working after midnight and before dawn (they were surely there before I came) ? Why the construction company changed the staff to close the underground floor ? Those are things I will hopefully never know...
Synopsis: As the story opens, David Turner recounts a shocking series of events from twenty years ago, deeming it “the worst week of his life”. Back in 1995, he and his parents had moved from a rural home to the suburbs, and it seemed as if everything was picture perfect. After meeting a couple of the neighborhood kids, the trio of ten-year-olds builds a tree house within a massive oak tree towering in the middle of a vast field behind David’s new home. After the tree house is complete, however, odd and disturbing occurrences flood David’s life, leaving him sleep deprived, paranoid, and terrified of what happens in the field past sundown. One night, David and his friends decide to sneak out to find out for themselves, discovering something beyond anything they ever could have imagined.
When I was 14 my friends and I were riding the bus home from school. We passed this guy who was walking on the highway pretty close to our stop. I got off the bus and went inside the house and started making some ramen when I heard a knock at the door. I answered it and it was him. He said he had a flat tire and needed to use the phone. I grabbed our phone with the long chord and put it outside the door and shut it then went back to the kitchen. As I was looking in the cabinet I felt a pressure on my back and he said "I have a knife at your back. You are going to do what I say."
At first I said, "Oh God help me!" and then I thought about running for the hot water on the stove but it was across the room. Then I got mad and put my hand behind my back. I don't know why I did that, maybe to try and grab the knife? But it was his finger and I started at him screaming that wasn't a knife and to get out of my house. He called me a whore and left. I grabbed my cat from outside (yes, priorities) and shut the door then sunk in front of it until my mom got home from work.
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I write horror stories and tell them on my podcast at Scary Story Time.
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It is very hard to get a proper name from the locals on South Texas. They don't use the interent or barely read books to give you an educated response of what X animal is. TexMex speak/words are very cross explaining for many things. Kind of like "marklar" from South Park. Nearly drove me nuts trying learn the little things down there with horse tack and names of animal parts. Thus I have no idea what a Mexican Lion looks like, but suspect it is a Juguar or panther. There is a sub species of Puma in Mexico as stated above, but I have yet to visually see one myself. All I have to go on is the "mexican lion". I now know how Jeremy Wade sometimes feels when trying to track down a rare fish with certain locals.
That tail was long on the Once' Re'al. Way to long. The head was also very strange as it struck me as being "off".
I can't offer anymore evidence for you all. Anyone else have any animal encounters?
Multiplayer Decks- Memnarch - Animar, Soul of Elements - Zur, the Enchanter - Atraxa, Praetors' Voice - Food Chain Tazri - Teysa Karlov
Modern BUMill and Bant Spirits.
Thank you Xenphire for the signature!
I've deleted my story cause i'm too scare to write it on the net =/
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This is true to the best of my memory. I remember the names of the two guys but not who said what and there isn't any need of back story. I'm going by the emphasis on REAL meaning true as opposed to terrifying.
The second time, several weeks later, it actually started to respond coherently. There were three of us though and I was very skeptical of the other two people's honesty. "It" gave a Native American name that seemed like it might be male and when asked where he was, like heaven or hell or whatever, it just responded with "here". All three of us were touching the little triangle thing in the middle and surprisingly, one of the other two guys suggested we drop to two people and take turns to see if it wasn't one of us doing it. At first it didn't respond with two. We tried a different two and still no response. We tried three again and still nothing. After a short time it started again but maybe half the speed it was before, let's say from ant speed to snail speed. We asked Him if it was hard to talk to us and He pointed to the "No" on the board. We asked Him if He needed all three of us to touch it (the little triangle guide thing) and it moved in a little circle and went back to "No" again. We asked Him some more questions that I don't really remember. Family stuff etc but nothing that was terribly exciting. Then someone asked Him how he died. He said "Murder". Who killed you we asked? "Family" he responded. That was a little creepy. We asked Him what happened and the thing started moving very quickly compared to what it had been but wasn't really stopping on letters. We tried to get Him to repeat it and the thing slid down off the board to where one of the pegs hit the carpet and stopped.
We took a few minutes to drink about it and decided to try again. Some genius decided to turn the lights off and light a single candle at the top of it. At first, nothing happened again. I guess in the spirit world it is difficult to communicate to three drunk jerks without any common sense. When we had fully got to the point of ridiculing the dead for being lazy and selfish etc, the little triangle thing (I refuse to look up what it is called) sort of jumped on the board. Not like jumped up but like it was almost shoved out from under our fingers. We asked Him why it took so long to respond and He said "What". We asked if it was the same person we had been speaking with before and the little triangle thing sort of made a slide back and forth on the board and then went up and pointed to "Yes". We asked if He was lying and He said "Yes". Who cares about truth when the dead are talking? We asked it what it's name was and it paused for a little while and then spelled out the same Native American name again. By this time we figured screw it, it was responding pretty strongly, so we decided to try doing the alternating people thing again. So some of these responses are with different sets of two out of the same three people but It didn't seem to notice. We asked it what year it died. Ouija boards have numbers on them so it could actually just hover over numbers instead of having to spell them out and it came up with a year that was hundreds of years a go. I can't be certain but my mind contributed 1642 but that seems like such a non random number that I think I probably made it up. We asked it where it had died and it actually started with numbers and ended with a full street address that one of my friends recognized because he delivered pizza in the area. We asked it again if it would tell us how it died and it spelled out "horribly" which was creepy enough that I remember that was the word it used. Naturally, we were more interested than ever. We asked it to tell us if it would tell us how it died this time and it actually went up and pointed to "Yes" first and then started trucking around on the board like it was remote controlled. I remember thinking this had to be complete ****ery and saying as such because I wasn't touching it at the time. But, one of the other two guys said something like, "So take my place" and removed his hands. The thing didn't even slow down. We two who now weren't touching the magical plastic spirit communicator stared at our third friend like he was the biggest jerk that ever lived and so he took his fingers off and it actually kept moving for a good two inches or so. Not like it was pushed and needed friction to slow down but was on a curve and continued the curve for a good full second.
So we all got another beer and talked it over. It had spelled out - and keep in mind that I remember the sentence being very dramatic and I'm positive the meaning ended up being what I will reveal later but this might be some hocus pocus on my part to convey the sense of how we felt - "My mother poisoned me for ra". The three of us took turns arguing about what that meant while the two of us who hadn't been touching it there at the last bit took turns accusing the third guy that it was him the whole time even though it HAD moved for the two of us by ourselves for a little while. Anyway, we got back down on the floor and tried again but chose to exclude number three for a minute. I put my fingers on the Ouija triangle and then my buddy put his on and the thing immediately started moving again but not as fast as it had been before. It made like a little screwy circle and then spelled out "what". We apologized and asked for it to tell us again how it died and it slowly spelled out "My mother poisoned me for raping my sister." At this point we were all pretty drunk, skeptical, and tired and that was one hell of a sentence so we called it a night.
The next morning, someone suggested we drive over and see the house and maybe get some breakfast. Sure enough, the street that it had given us existed and was in the right number range for the house to exist. I'm going to say the house number was 1001 and we were in the 900 block just for story purpose since I can't remember the street name anymore. As we cleared the 990s of houses the odd number side that the house should have been on turned into a little man made drainage ditch all the way to the next cross street and picked up again on the other side at like 1007 or something which would have put the address right in the middle of 'lake'. It still didn't explain why a supposed native american ghost from several hundred years a go would know a street name in a city that was only maybe 50 years old. I remember trying to use the internet to see if I could find anything but this was back 10 years a go when AOL dial up was lightning fast and it took 10 minutes to load a single picture.
Moral of the story? Four hundred year old native american ghosts may or may not be suffering eternity waiting for three drunk losers to talk to.
Can't you change a few details so it's not as personal and post it? I want to hear it! Let's stop arguing about cats and hear some scary stories. Remember they don't have to be supernatural! Neither of the ones I posted are supernatural at all, just scary.
@MTGClue - Haakon, Stromgald Scourge in the Moorland Haunt with the Hammer of Purphoros.
Where did you say you got those?
Warning: Squeemish Need Not Apply
Some years ago (2006 or 2007) I went on a long trip through Europe with some college friends. There were 4 of us in total, a couple (who had been apart for a year because one was studying abroad in Sweden) and me and another friend who had been studying abroad in Copenhagen. We started in Copenhagen right after my friend finished his study abroad term. From there we went through the Netherlands, to Utrecht and Amsterdam enjoying the night life and museums and getting used to culture shock (at least I was). Then Paris, where we enjoyed the crazy party on the lawn/park? in front of the Eiffel Tower. From there, to Spain and Barcelona, where we stayed right off of Las Ramblas and one night walked high above the city and drank cheap wine and smoked American Jeans cigarettes. We traveled through Spain some more, down to Cadiz, and then headed back north on our way to Italy. On the way to Rome we got stopped on the rails of an Italian train for 5-6 hours, it was an utter nightmare, no explanation whatsoever, just sitting there waiting for the train to move again. When we got to Rome, we had been travelling for about 4 weeks and were running out of money. One friend bowed out after a couple of days in Rome and headed back to Copenhagen to wait stay with friends until his plane back to the states. From there the 3 of us, the couple and myself, headed to Munich. When we arrived at Munich, the couple bowed out immediately (like 4 hours after we got there!) and headed back to Sweden, so I was by myself with about 2 weeks until my flight back to the states. My plan was to travel to Czech, Poland, back to Germany and then fly back to the states. On my way to Czech I stopped at Heidelberg, DE.
In Heidelberg, I found a hostel relatively quickly. It was a school, right next to a zoo, that they rented out in the summer as a hostel. I was a little worried at first, about being on my own, but it wasn't too bad. I checked in and then went about the town. There is/was an American military base at Heidelberg, so I met some Americans and Germans who showed me around and we had a grand night out, drinking and bar-hopping, and ending up very thoroughly drunk. The highlight being finding a divey/punk bar where when the Dead Kennedy's "Nazi Punks F*** Off!" came on, and the whole bar joined in screaming and singing at the top of their drunken lungs. I go to bed very drunk and contented at having a great time by myself and looking forward to my next 1-2 weeks of travelling.
In the morning, I woke up in a very bad way. I was extremely bleary, hungry, hung-over, and generally feeling poorly. My room had 8-10 beds and was filled to capacity, though, I was alone when I awoke, everyone had went to breakfast. I stumbled out of bed and threw some clothes on, and stumbled down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast. Since the breakfast was included in the room fee it was all cold: cereal, granola, fruit, etc. I get myself some cereal and coffee and wearily begin to eat, hoping to kill this god-awful hang-over. The meal was uninspired and about half-way through my stomach wasn't feeling so good. It was one of those hang-overs where you are hungry but absolutely no food is appealing and when you do eat you have to force it down. So I get up and bus my table, with plans to go to the bathroom immediately thereafter. As I leave the cafeteria I see a sign in German that looks like a restroom (male/female symbols included), so I saunter in that direction, which is away from my room. The signs lead me down some stairs into a hallway, with a sea of lockers on each side. I walk down the hallway a bit, and things start getting serious. I've really got to go, I walk further and no bathroom. My stomach subsides a little, so I decide to go back to the room. I go up the stairs and I get hit with stomach cramps full force, I've really got to go now. One more flight of stairs and I am full out running to my room, sweat breaking out all over me. By the time I get to the room door things are very desperate and I am ready to explode. The room key was a magnetic thing like hotels, I had it in a back pocket of my jeans. I was shuffling so much trying to keep everything in, that I had trouble getting it out of my pocket. I am in a very bad way by now. I get it out and swipe it, red light, door won't open, must've swiped it backwards. Before I can try again I can't hold it anymore and let go. The feeling of relief, for 1-2 seconds was amazing, then the horror set in. I had let go of what felt like a gallon of post-drinking diarrhea, in a hallway of a hostel, standing outside my room. It flowed down my leg, filled up my shoe, overflowed onto the floor and left a good 12" diarrhea-pancake batter pool on the floor directly in front of the door. I stood there paralyzed, going clammy, in shock. I finally got my senses about me and opened the door with the card that was still in my hand. I walk in tracking large brown streaks on the linoleum-tiled floor. When the door shuts I freeze again, unsure of what to do. After maybe 10-15 seconds, I hear activity outside the door, the other roomies are coming back from breakfast! This is one of the most terrifying moments of my life. I waddle over to the shower, turn the water on and jump in right when the door opens, and then begin to silently cry. This moment was my lowest, standing in the shower fully clothed, alone in a place far from home and friends, with diarrhea tracks everywhere. The guy who came into the room, left right quick, and I started going to work. I cleaned my shoes as best I could in the shower (they were all I had so I had to keep them), then balled up everything I was wearing. Luckily the room stayed empty for a while. I tried my best to clean up the streaks and the pool outside the door with toilet paper, but it really just smeared it around everywhere. So, I carried my soiled clothes and walked all the way out to the front door and threw them out in the trash outside. It had to be around 8-9 in the morning at this time. I spent the rest of the day aimlessly wandering around the city thoroughly depressed and alone and with wet shoes (it was cloudy and rainy as well). I quietly came back to my room late, late at night and woke up early and left to more European adventures.
Wow. Your issue is hereditable cause it runs in the genes.
That story may fall under depressing or psychological. Interesting read nonetheless.
Multiplayer Decks- Memnarch - Animar, Soul of Elements - Zur, the Enchanter - Atraxa, Praetors' Voice - Food Chain Tazri - Teysa Karlov
Modern BUMill and Bant Spirits.
Thank you Xenphire for the signature!
Anyway, it was fall of 1997. My first college quarter (my school was on the quarter system, not semester system) was winding down making it November/December. I lived in school sponsored housing at Allegheny Center, building 7, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania – a studio apartment with a roommate Lance. Lance had dropped out, moved back to Ohio, and I had the place to myself although a few of his effects remained – his bed, some furniture, the heavy crap you grab with one final U-Haul trip after you’ve car-loaded all your clothes and other junk out.
Let me take a detour here to describe Allegheny Center building 7. Although it was technically a 10-story apartment building, it was basically a college dorm. It’s not super old by any means but, in its time it’s seen its share of death – during my two-year stay two students fell to their deaths (one accidental, one deliberate), but those deaths happened after the event I will describe. Also, Allegheny Center is on Pittsburgh’s North Side, the oldest part of a very old city. Because of the number of deaths, the building’s location, as well as the ample substance abuse that comes with any college dorm, there is NO shortage of “ghost” or “demon” stories that come from anyone who has ever lived in Allegheny Center. Get ten college kids sitting around the bong, one-upping one another’s “creepy” experiences, and you’d think Allegheny Center was Cthulhu’s personal back yard. I was not into drugs or alcohol during my time there (having long since satisfied my wild-child days in high school up in Michigan where I grew up), and I was a very serious and dedicated student who put his schooling first. I never shared this story with anyone until years later, not because I felt people would not believe me, but because I knew they WOULD believe me just like they believed all the crap “supernatural” stories that kids tell each other. My experience was not to be lumped into other people’s embellishments and drunken hallucinations. My experience was genuine.
Ok, back to my story. On some nights, before I went to sleep, I would take one of my dumbbells and crack the door to my studio apartment. While I was a dedicated student, I was NOT above using nonverbal communication to tell whatever female I was interested in at the time that her company was welcome at any hour. The dumbbell in the door was my 19-year-old mind’s idea of being smooth. This practice would send a long shaft of yellow hallway light down a short corridor into my studio apartment across my roommate Lance’s bed. It would be the only light in an otherwise pitch-black room. I was (and still am) an extremely light sleeper, so I was never worried about someone coming in while I was asleep without me being aware.
My bed was on the opposite side of the room, and I was trying to get to sleep, when my studio door swung open. The shaft of light from the hallway abruptly widened before narrowing again as the door slammed closed against my dumbbell. A silhouette walked into my room and sat upright, feet on the floor, facing me on my roommate’s bed with the thin shaft of hallway light behind it.
This was odd because, a girl would have come over to my bed and made her presence known. So, after a moment of strange stillness I called out “Carolyn?” Carolyn was a female friend of mine who would not have slipped into bed with me, but might visit me at an odd hour of the night to chat or hang out.
There was no answer and the shadow just continued to sit on Lance’s bed, staring at me, in silence.
“Lance?” I called out again thinking perhaps Lance had come back to Pittsburgh for some odd reason. He technically still had access to the building until he was completely moved out and, although it would be strange, it was not outside the realm of possibility that he had simply arrived super late.
The silhouette answered back in a strange hollow, completely androgynous voice that absolutely did NOT belong to Carolyn or Lance; “Maybe I am.”
I shot upright, and turned on the lamp on my night stand. I looked back to where the shadow had been sitting, and there was nothing.
There was no way anyone could have moved an inch, let alone left the room in the time it took me to take my eyes off the figure to turn on the lamp, and back again. Regardless I sprang out of bed checked the hallway, removed the dumbbell, and closed my apartment door. I quickly scoured my apartment for person-sized hiding places (of which there was only beneath the beds and in the bathroom).
Nothing. Unnerved, I got dressed and decided to leave my apartment and try and find some friends who might be hanging out late somewhere. Until the end of the quarter I could not get to sleep in that apartment and I immediately requested to be consolidated into a different apartment when a spot opened up.
That may be a lot of lead-up to a very brief experience. My rational explanation is that I was having a lucid dream – the hope for unexpected company manifesting unconsciously as the perception of actual company in my pre-REM twilight sleep. I have never experienced a lucid dream before, or since, but that is the only explanation I can come up with… that, or it’s a creepy shadow monster lurking in Allegheny Center who just decided to scare the crap out of a 19-year-old kid.
Take my story as you will, but it is absolutely true and devoid of embellishment – diluted only by the erosion of sixteen years of memory. I am not easily frightened and, perhaps because of my inability to be phased, this experience will always be with me as one of the very few times I have ever been scared in my adult life.
Multiplayer Decks- Memnarch - Animar, Soul of Elements - Zur, the Enchanter - Atraxa, Praetors' Voice - Food Chain Tazri - Teysa Karlov
Modern BUMill and Bant Spirits.
Thank you Xenphire for the signature!
Great story, creepy!
@MTGClue - Haakon, Stromgald Scourge in the Moorland Haunt with the Hammer of Purphoros.
lol what that story falls on funny stories.
Ok' i will tell my story.
One day, when I was a kid, I was hanging out with two friends on the outside park in the building I live in. It was pretty late at night and we were telling each other some fake scary stories. The doorman of the building overheard us and came to tell the story that would haunt me and my friends for the rest of our lives.
He said he worked on this building since it's construction. This building have subterranean parking lot but he said initially it would have two floor of subterranean parking lots. It was when the workers started to dig the second underground floor that the company suddenly decided a median class building wouldn't need so much space for cars and decided to scrap that second floor project. The weird thing was, when they decided to 'close' the second underground floor, they send the workers, including the building doorman, in vacation for some time (I don't remember the precise number).
When the doorman and the other workers returned, the second underground floor was already closed and much of the work in the first underground floor was done. Not much was asked about in the time (as not many would complain about extra remunerated vacations). Still rumors started to spread among the workers and the engineer staff. They said the second floor was still there. Some said it was designed to be a mafia corpse dumper, others said it was a secret torture club or a satanic death cult...
Anyway this story scared the crap out of me and my friends. At first we started to just forget it but paranoia and curiosity drove us to actually explore the parking lot and search for this secret underground floor. We quickly found that one part of the parking lot was out of our sight view.
There is a warehouse were families could leave old junk (such as old forniture). It's a very strange place. It is like a very long (like a doorway) three wall room. The forth wall is actually iron bars and it is were the entrance is. Some junk was thrown there and because of that we haven't sight contact with part of the room. This place was also always lock up and located in the corner of the building.
I told my parents the whole story and they didn't even knew (despite living there for more then a decade) the warehouse was there. We had the courage to ask the doorman the keys but he told us he didn't had it. I asked my parent (who was the representative of the neighbors association) and he didn't found the key in his office either. He told me the construction company forgot to give the buildings staff the key to the place and had to get another key. They never gave the key and people never bothered to ask then. After this dead end me and my friends gave up.
A few years later the cat pet of a neighbor who wondered the building at night decided to make the place his new home. One day the cat insisted in not going out of the place and the guy who owned the guy started to look for the damn key. The construction company weren't giving as a key in the middle of the night, so we decide to call a keymaker to change the keyhole. For everyone's surprise he couldn't because the iron bars were freaking brutally secure (jail-like security). In the end of the night, the cat came out and everyone forgot about the warehouse and the mysterious key once again... But not me and my friends. Every now and then me and my friends sneaked in the parking lot and observed the place. We also tried other things, such as throwing a camera with a string to see what was in the blind spot of the room, which actually broke the camera. One day we realized some of the objects inside the room had changed places. One of my friend realized there was a strange smell there was well. To this day I don't know what was that smell.
For one reason or another, me and my friends dropped the subject slowly as we never found anything about the place. Most of my friends don't live here anymore and I don't talk a lot with those who do.
Many, many years later (like one decade later) I was returning from a midnight movie (it was about 5:00 AM) and heard some freaking noise in the parking lot. I looked around and find ****ing construction workers inside the place PAINTING IT'S WALL. I got leviathan sized spine shivers and almost thrown up. I just tried to control my fear and stayed there, waiting for the elevator, while some workers kept staring at me. The wait might have took 20 seconds but for me it felt like 10 minutes. Finally I went to home, took some medicine and didn't slept that day.
A few days later I told this event to my father, who told me the company was just making a reform in the parking lot. Strangely the reform was not called by the neighbors association (some expert from the company went to here one day and said we needed a reform for safety reasons. The association said we haven't money and they actually made it with huge discount). If the reform was about safety, why they are painting the inside walls of a room that was (supposedly) never used by anyone in 20 years ? How the objects were moving inside the place if no one in the building had the keys ? Why are workers working after midnight and before dawn (they were surely there before I came) ? Why the construction company changed the staff to close the underground floor ? Those are things I will hopefully never know...
BGU Control
R Aggro
Standard - For Fun
BG Auras
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KyP-U8WpjU&feature=youtu.be (AUDIO BOOK)
Synopsis: As the story opens, David Turner recounts a shocking series of events from twenty years ago, deeming it “the worst week of his life”. Back in 1995, he and his parents had moved from a rural home to the suburbs, and it seemed as if everything was picture perfect. After meeting a couple of the neighborhood kids, the trio of ten-year-olds builds a tree house within a massive oak tree towering in the middle of a vast field behind David’s new home. After the tree house is complete, however, odd and disturbing occurrences flood David’s life, leaving him sleep deprived, paranoid, and terrified of what happens in the field past sundown. One night, David and his friends decide to sneak out to find out for themselves, discovering something beyond anything they ever could have imagined.
At first I said, "Oh God help me!" and then I thought about running for the hot water on the stove but it was across the room. Then I got mad and put my hand behind my back. I don't know why I did that, maybe to try and grab the knife? But it was his finger and I started at him screaming that wasn't a knife and to get out of my house. He called me a whore and left. I grabbed my cat from outside (yes, priorities) and shut the door then sunk in front of it until my mom got home from work.