Ok, I guess I'll stick my neck out here. So far, lots of comments, few stories . . .
I went to school at SFA. Right after leaving (a journalism major), I landed a job at a small daily paper in Henderson, Texas. In newspapering, you have to pay your dues so doing a stint in this small town was the beginning of all that.
Anyway, I get married to a babe I was seeing at SFA and we rent a house not far from downtown Henderson. It was an old house, built before 1900 but was in great shape considering the age and had lots of neat little things about it, such as a "booth" built in the kitchen where two people could share breakfast.
Anyway, the house was so old I couldn't open any of the windows. They were painted and rusted shut.
Almost immediately after we move in, our relationship starts heading south. Three months later, we're separated. Keep in mind, I'm a rookie journalist working 12 hr days, so I'm not at that house as much.
So she leaves and it's just me and the dog left behind. Not sure why, but I start spending more time at the house with him. Not a week after she's gone, I hear a door open in the house while my dog and I are watching Letterman in another room. I investigate, find nothing, and write it off. An hour later, a window crashes shut. This alarms me because I know they don't open. I investigate, find nothing, and a little later I'm able to write it off.
I go to bed, hear footsteps across the floor. I investigate, find nothing, go back to bed.
At this point, I'm still not really bothered. But my dog is changing, becoming more timid and less friendly. Seems to be worried all the time. Won't go in some rooms in the house, can't understand why.
I find shades closed that I've opened. Doors continue to shut in the night, as well as windows that I can't open.
I start spending time investigating the ownership of the house. Turns out, a couple once lived there in the 1915-1925 era and the wife ended up killing the husband for fooling around. She killed him in that house.
That was the only death I could find that actually happened in that house, although I had heard that a battle once took place there at that location between Indians and Texas settlers.
Needless to say, I didn't live there much longer. Secured an apartment and moved as soon as I could. The wife came back and things got back to normal a month or so later. The dog took some time before he returned to his happy self. The wife and I had many conversations about that house after we reconciled. Strange stuff.
You have to be careful about buying homes, I guess. I have a friend who sleeps in a bed that his father died of a heart attack in. That's kind weird.
This post was edited on 6/8 10:12 PM by SirHornsalot
Posted on 6/8 10:09 PM | IP: Logged
Originally posted by SirHornsalot: Ok, I guess I'll stick my neck out here. So far, lots of comments, few stories . . .
I went to school at SFA. Right after leaving (a journalism major), I landed a job at a small daily paper in Henderson, Texas. In newspapering, you have to pay your dues so doing a stint in this small town was the beginning of all that.
Anyway, I get married to a babe I was seeing at SFA and we rent a house not far from downtown Henderson. It was an old house, built before 1900 but was in great shape considering the age and had lots of neat little things about it, such as a "booth" built in the kitchen where two people could share breakfast.
Anyway, the house was so old I couldn't open any of the windows. They were painted and rusted shut.
Almost immediately after we move in, our relationship starts heading south. Three months later, we're separated. Keep in mind, I'm a rookie journalist working 12 hr days, so I'm not at that house as much.
So she leaves and it's just me and the dog left behind. Not sure why, but I start spending more time at the house with him. Not a week after she's gone, I hear a door open in the house while my dog and I are watching Letterman in another room. I investigate, find nothing, and write it off. An hour later, a window crashes shut. This alarms me because I know they don't open. I investigate, find nothing, and a little later I'm able to write it off.
I go to bed, hear footsteps across the floor. I investigate, find nothing, go back to bed.
At this point, I'm still not really bothered. But my dog is changing, becoming more timid and less friendly. Seems to be worried all the time. Won't go in some rooms in the house, can't understand why.
I find shades closed that I've opened. Doors continue to shut in the night, as well as windows that I can't open.
I start spending time investigating the ownership of the house. Turns out, a couple once lived there in the 1915-1925 era and the wife ended up killing the husband for fooling around. She killed him in that house.
That was the only death I could find that actually happened in that house, although I had heard that a battle once took place there at that location between Indians and Texas settlers.
Needless to say, I didn't live there much longer. Secured an apartment and moved as soon as I could. The wife came back and things got back to normal a month or so later. The dog took some time before he returned to his happy self. The wife and I had many conversations about that house after we reconciled. Strange stuff.
You have to be careful about buying homes, I guess. I have a friend who sleeps in a bed that his father died of a heart attack in. That's kind weird.
This post was edited on 6/8 10:12 PM by SirHornsalot
I completely believe you, but I have to ask why or how in the hell you didn't flip shit when you heard windows crashing and footsteps in your house alone? Either of those things happen to me and I'm not spending another second in the damned place.
Posted on 6/8 11:38 PM | IP: Logged
I have a couple stories that would be of the ghosts/angels/demons variety.
My freshman year of college, I came home to visit my parents (Mt. Pleasant). I can't remember the circumstances, but I had the week off from school. Anyway, I went out to the local country club to play some golf. After playing a round solo, I went to the cart shed to plug in my dad's cart and put away my clubs. As I'm standing at the opening to the shed, I look down the path and I see the manager of the pro shop walking down the path (from the 1st tee towards the club house) with a young boy 10-12 a few steps behind (w/in 5 feet). Now, at our country club, the walk from the 1st tee box to the club house is about 200 yards. On one side of the path is nothing but a thicket of woods w/ dense vegetation/undergrowth. On the other is a row of cart sheds, with a walk way between ever 2-3 sheds.
Back to the story.....
When I see Mr. Haupt (pro shop mgr) and the kid walking my way, I think nothing of it and continue putting things away. As they approach, Mrs. Haupt looks over, says "hi", and keeps walking. The kid though stops and stares at me. It was an uncomfortable stare. The kind that makes you ask if the person needs something. After feeling his stare, then looking up, he approaches me with something in his hand. He holds it out and it's a $5 bill. Now, I don't know who this kid is. There was an weird sense of familiarity, but in my hometown, especially at the only private golf course in town, you know everybody. So, I ask the kid, "what's this". To which he says, "This is for you." I told him he didn't owe me anything, but he responded with (darn close to verbatim), "You gave to me when I had nothing. Now I'm giving it back to you." I reiterated that if I ever gave him money he didn't need to pay me back (remember, this is a kid....not some adult w/ a sense of obligation). He kept his hand out and said, "You need to take it." So, I took it. What's interesting about the interaction is that the kid didn't speak like a kid. His articulation and the choice and order of his words were very "adult" and "educated". It was the kind of conversation that made the hairs on your neck stand up, b/c the exterior didn't match the interior.
Now, here's where it gets weird.....
The kid turns and continues walking down the cart path towards the bend that opens into the parking lot, across which is the club house/pro shop. I watch the kid walk about 10', then turn around to finish up. All I had left to do was plug in my dad's cart, which takes all of 5-10 seconds. So, I plug it in, step out of the cart shed and look down the path....where I expected him to be about 75' down the path. But......there's no kid.
Now, the distance from our cart shed to the bend is about 60 yards (180 feet). I'm already weirded out by previous experience, but the fact this kid was no where to be seen freaked the heck out of me......to the point that I slapped the lock on the cart shed and took off running. I ran around the back side of the cart sheds to see if he was in a shed on the back side. I ran down the length.....nothing......then darted back onto the cart path. I sprinted towards the bend, rounded the corner, then bolted between the 3 short rows of cart sheds on the other side of the bend......nothing. I keep sprinting, out into the parking lot. It was mid-day during the week, so there were a whopping 5 or 6 total cars. It's a big open parking lot, with a 100 yard walk from the opening from the cart path to the club house. In the parking lot, there's still no kid. I'm just about panic stricken at this point b/c his disappearance defies logic. Only about 45 seconds has elapsed since I last saw him and there's no where for him to go other than the back side of the cart sheds, the short rows of sheds or the parking lot. And, 45 seconds of walking is not enough time to disappear. So, I bolt across the parking lot to the club house. I look in the restaurant.....no kid. I look by the pool......no kid. So, then I run into the pro shop. There's Mrs. Haupt standing behind the counter. Nearly out of breath, I say, "Mrs. Haupt, who was that kid walking with you from the first tee?" She looks at me confused and says, "What kid?" I said, "there was a kid walking less than 5 feet back to your side." With an expressionless face she says, "Lake, there was no kid. I was walking alone."
I almost died when she said that. It's one thing for a kid you don't know to repay a debt you don't remember. It's one thing for a kid to disappear from a spot that seems impossible to disappear. But, there's no way for someone to walk 3-5 feet from you on a desolate asphalt cart path w/o you knowing they're there.
I left the golf course and went straight to my mom's office and told her the story. The $5 bill the kid gave me has sat on my bookshelf in a picture frame since that day in '96. I have no explanation for what happened that day. As a God fearing man and a guy who's in his Bible daily, I have to believe it was an angel of sorts. I honestly don't know though. I wish I could relive the moment, soak in more details, gain more clarity. I think in the end though, I'd still be left bewildered and amazed.
Posted on 6/9 12:30 AM | IP: Logged
Here's another one.....of the demon variety.
Recently, some people in our church here in CA reached out to and began studying the bible with a lady one of them had met randomly. During one of the latter studies, where you get open about your sin, the woman confesses that she's a high ranking member of a Satanic cult. She proceeds, over the course of multiple studies to confess the deeds of the organization, child sacrifice, child sex acts, orgies, rapes, etc. The studies all take place at one couple's home in LA. After reaching a point in the studies where she needed to make some life decisions, the couple had gotten advice to go to the police about the contents of her confession. She apparently wasn't committing the crimes (supposedly), but oversaw many of them as one of the leaders. As an aside, she said that we'd be slack-jawed at how many big time people were Satan worshipers in LA.....judges, corporate execs, celebs, etc.
During the course of the studies, which stretched for weeks, lot's of crazy stuff started happening in their home. They were having panic attacks and all kinds of crazy experiences. (These are the most plain Jane people you've ever met. Dry, boring, honest....) Well, things got so scary, they sought the advice of some renowned Christian advisers in LA. They were given the advice (amongst other things) to pray throughout the rooms of the house to remove any evil spirits that were there. (Yeah, I know it sounds hokey!) So, they did so. Well, that night, they woke up at the same time gripped with an unexplainable terror. They both had this hysterical fear that neither could explain. (I don't know the details of the rest of the evening.) The next morning, the wife's sister, who's also a member of our church out in the mid west, called and asked her pointedly, "Did you pray in the attic?" The wife, confused, asked her what she was talking about, to which the sister restated her question even more sternly. The wife said that they hadn't prayed in the attic. The sister then told her she woke up in the middle of the night, panicked, after having a vivid dream that an evil spirit was dripping something on her and her husband as they lay sleeping last night. The couple prayed in the attic that afternoon with some other church members and since that time, there have been no issues.
Even as a guy who knows the Bible every which way, it's still hard for me to wrap my mind around demons and the like, even though the Bible is clear they exist and roam the Earth. But, when you sit down and hear someone tell a story like amidst sobs, with others verifying their accounts, there's no way to deny something happened.
To date, the woman from the Satanic cult has not done any more studies. She apparently had been looking for a way out of her organization. She was pretty traumatized by the things she'd witnessed. She was born into the cult and had experienced some horrific deeds personally. To hear her tell the story (through others), there is something super-natural that takes place when worshiping Satan. She was apparently pretty freaked about by the unexplainable things she'd seen, even beyond the murders, rapes, etc. This is one story that freaks the heck out of me......
Posted on 6/9 12:57 AM | IP: Logged
Originally posted by = Ice Man =: Here's another one.....of the demon variety.
Recently, some people in our church here in CA reached out to and began studying the bible with a lady one of them had met randomly. During one of the latter studies, where you get open about your sin, the woman confesses that she's a high ranking member of a Satanic cult. She proceeds, over the course of multiple studies to confess the deeds of the organization, child sacrifice, child sex acts, orgies, rapes, etc. The studies all take place at one couple's home in LA. After reaching a point in the studies where she needed to make some life decisions, the couple had gotten advice to go to the police about the contents of her confession. She apparently wasn't committing the crimes (supposedly), but oversaw many of them as one of the leaders. As an aside, she said that we'd be slack-jawed at how many big time people were Satan worshipers in LA.....judges, corporate execs, celebs, etc.
During the course of the studies, which stretched for weeks, lot's of crazy stuff started happening in their home. They were having panic attacks and all kinds of crazy experiences. (These are the most plain Jane people you've ever met. Dry, boring, honest....) Well, things got so scary, they sought the advice of some renowned Christian advisers in LA. They were given the advice (amongst other things) to pray throughout the rooms of the house to remove any evil spirits that were there. (Yeah, I know it sounds hokey!) So, they did so. Well, that night, they woke up at the same time gripped with an unexplainable terror. They both had this hysterical fear that neither could explain. (I don't know the details of the rest of the evening.) The next morning, the wife's sister, who's also a member of our church out in the mid west, called and asked her pointedly, "Did you pray in the attic?" The wife, confused, asked her what she was talking about, to which the sister restated her question even more sternly. The wife said that they hadn't prayed in the attic. The sister then told her she woke up in the middle of the night, panicked, after having a vivid dream that an evil spirit was dripping something on her and her husband as they lay sleeping last night. The couple prayed in the attic that afternoon with some other church members and since that time, there have been no issues.
Even as a guy who knows the Bible every which way, it's still hard for me to wrap my mind around demons and the like, even though the Bible is clear they exist and roam the Earth. But, when you sit down and hear someone tell a story like amidst sobs, with others verifying their accounts, there's no way to deny something happened.
To date, the woman from the Satanic cult has not done any more studies. She apparently had been looking for a way out of her organization. She was pretty traumatized by the things she'd witnessed. She was born into the cult and had experienced some horrific deeds personally. To hear her tell the story (through others), there is something super-natural that takes place when worshiping Satan. She was apparently pretty freaked about by the unexplainable things she'd seen, even beyond the murders, rapes, etc. This is one story that freaks the heck out of me......
Iceman, I think what your story points out is that the only real demons are twisted and evil humans. Now, I believe there's more to it than just that, at a spiritual level, one could say, but in the end it boils down to that.
Posted on 6/9 5:30 AM | IP: Logged
I've had sleep paralysis at least a dozen times, maybe more. It scared the crap out of me the first few times, as I thought some supernatural force was restraining me. I, too, tried to yell out for help but couldn't muster anything other than a groan.
About two years ago, after another episode, I started doing some research and came across sleep paralysis. While terrified at the cause, it was certainly relieving to know (hope) that it wasn't a supernatural force that was shackling me down.
Originally posted by SirHornsalot: Ok, I guess I'll stick my neck out here. So far, lots of comments, few stories . . .
I went to school at SFA. Right after leaving (a journalism major), I landed a job at a small daily paper in Henderson, Texas. In newspapering, you have to pay your dues so doing a stint in this small town was the beginning of all that.
Anyway, I get married to a babe I was seeing at SFA and we rent a house not far from downtown Henderson. It was an old house, built before 1900 but was in great shape considering the age and had lots of neat little things about it, such as a "booth" built in the kitchen where two people could share breakfast.
Anyway, the house was so old I couldn't open any of the windows. They were painted and rusted shut.
Almost immediately after we move in, our relationship starts heading south. Three months later, we're separated. Keep in mind, I'm a rookie journalist working 12 hr days, so I'm not at that house as much.
So she leaves and it's just me and the dog left behind. Not sure why, but I start spending more time at the house with him. Not a week after she's gone, I hear a door open in the house while my dog and I are watching Letterman in another room. I investigate, find nothing, and write it off. An hour later, a window crashes shut. This alarms me because I know they don't open. I investigate, find nothing, and a little later I'm able to write it off.
I go to bed, hear footsteps across the floor. I investigate, find nothing, go back to bed.
At this point, I'm still not really bothered. But my dog is changing, becoming more timid and less friendly. Seems to be worried all the time. Won't go in some rooms in the house, can't understand why.
I find shades closed that I've opened. Doors continue to shut in the night, as well as windows that I can't open.
I start spending time investigating the ownership of the house. Turns out, a couple once lived there in the 1915-1925 era and the wife ended up killing the husband for fooling around. She killed him in that house.
That was the only death I could find that actually happened in that house, although I had heard that a battle once took place there at that location between Indians and Texas settlers.
Needless to say, I didn't live there much longer. Secured an apartment and moved as soon as I could. The wife came back and things got back to normal a month or so later. The dog took some time before he returned to his happy self. The wife and I had many conversations about that house after we reconciled. Strange stuff.
You have to be careful about buying homes, I guess. I have a friend who sleeps in a bed that his father died of a heart attack in. That's kind weird.
This post was edited on 6/8 10:12 PM by SirHornsalot
Wow! You just spooked me out man. Mandy and I just stayed in a cabin outside of Fredericksburg that was built in the early 1800's. Long story short, you could feel an unexplainable force in the cabin. Strange things happened when we were sober. Lights coming on at 1, 2 and 4 in the morning, strange smells, places in the cabin that stayed very cold all the time when the rest of the cabin was hot as hell and lots of noises. I will never be able to get Mandy to sleep out in the middle of nowhere in a cabin again. Note to self, if you are ever in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with a paranoid woman, keep her drunk as possible.
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