Blood Red Moon – Ritual Howls
We grew up in a house that had “Haints” as my Southern Father would call them. All sorts of weird noises like something falling in the kitchen, door closing and opening, cold spots.
In the early 70’s; if I didn’t have school–My father would allow me to stay up with him to watch the 11 O’Clock News on occasion. One was a night after Halloween. I had one of those orange plastic pumpkins for candy. It was on the floor in the living room. The plastic pumpkin began to slide slowly across the living room floor and then was flung to the other side of the room by some unseen force. My father told me not to give the Haints attention because it made them act up more.
The scariest thing though was the Shadow Man in the basement. Me and my sister would see it often in the basement. Our friends didn’t believe it, so we brought them into the basement and sure enough, in the far reaches of the basement near the Oil Tank, was a dark shadowy figure. We all watched as the shadow began to float towards us. It became a game of chicken. We would go down and wait for it to come towards us. The game was to see how close we could allow it to come to us before we ran up the stairs.
A few weeks later, we had a slumber party. We were all laughing and talking, playing games and eating milk and cookies. There was a noise and as we looked, the Shadow Man came into the Parlor and stood in the door looking at us. We all screamed and ran up to the second floor and piled into my mom and dad’s room. My father scolded us for taunting the damn thing. My mother didn’t really believe it.
My mother believed it when she was in the kitchen and saw a dark shadowy figure standing by the basement door. My mother was afraid to move. She fled out of the kitchen and was shaken. She felt a stinging on her left leg and there were three scratches on her calf.
We kids were no longer allowed in the basement. If we talked about it, my dad would tell us to hush up. Over time, we stopped seeing the Shadow Man. We would still hear things and learned to live around them.
Nite Rite – Ash Code
In der Nacht – Xmal Deutschland
Kaltes Klares Wasser (versus Chicks On Speed) – Malaria!
My old youth pastor told us a story about his grandfather, who grew up in the Appalachians. One day he went from his house along a trail to visit his cousins, and he stayed too late, and found himself dashing along the ever-darkening trail on his way back, trying to get home before the light was completely gone. He rounded a corner to see the fuzzy outline of a cow asleep in the middle of the trail, blocking his way, so he shouted and slapped it to get it to wake up and get moving. But instead of the cowhide he expected, he felt thick fur under his hand, and the shape unfolded itself, stood upright like a man, and shambled off into the woods. Poor kid ran screaming the rest of the way home.
The Dancer – Ides Of Gemini
Black Harbour / Helma Nah’ Shmarr – Kirlian Camera
The Secret Window [Explicit] – Hocico
I grew up about 20 feet away from a cemetery in a small town in southwestern Pennsylvania. Tombstones started not too far away from our driveway. I am completely open to the notion that there are such things as ghosts, but in 18 years of living in our house, I never saw a ghost in the cemetery or anywhere near the cemetery. And believe me we used to sneak over there at night and do all those things you are supposed to do to see ghosts, walk around a grave backwards 13 times at midnight, and that sort of thing.
And also, I’m open to the idea of psychic experiences, ESP, clairvoyance and that sort of thing, but I never had any experience that struck me as particularly strange until one night in 1992, I was living in Flagstaff, Arizona at the time. There is a big park outside of town called Buffalo Park. A huge field surrounded by tall pine forest at the bottom of some tall mountains. There is also a 2 mile walking loop for people who want to get exercise. A bunch of friends and I went out there one evening and hung out a while. As it was getting dark, everybody decided to leave, but I really wanted to stay out overnight even though it wasn’t permitted by park rules.
After it got dark, it got pretty chilly. I didn’t have any blankets or a tent with me. I was really determined to stay out and enjoy the stars. If you’ve never been to Flagstaff, you can’t imagine how full of stars the sky is and how close the start seem to be. And I was lucky, there wasn’t a moon out to outshine the starlight. I decided to start walking around the 2 mile loop to warm up a bit. I was really enjoying having the wilderness and that sky so bright with stars and lost track of time, but at some point, without warning – – all of a sudden there was a pickup truck bearing down on me from behind, headlights glaring at me. There were guys in the truck, I could hear them screaming like wild mean alcohol-fueled rednecks. I literally jumped over a 10 ledge and hurt myself to get out of sight as quickly as possible. There was no doubt they had seen me, it was just a matter of whether they would bother to get out of the truck and follow me.
The really weird thing is that as soon as I jumped over the ledge, all sound and lights disappeared. I thought maybe the guys had turned off the truck and were sneaking around in the dark coming to get me. I was absolutely terrified. I was scared to even move or breathe too loud. I waited and waited for what seemed a long time. But there was never another sound. Eventually I crawled back up to the top of the ledge that I had jumped off of and there was no truck, no guys. No sounds. Not a trace that anyone had ever been there besides me.
Pretty creepy, huh? I spent the rest of the night up there in the park and never encountered anyone or any trucks or anything up there. I’ve thought a lot about what happened up there. And sometime I wonder if what I saw was actually something that happened in the past. Someone was chased and maybe harmed up there in the past and left some sort of psychic imprint that I sensed with my mind. It couldn’t have been pure imagination. It was so real. And why on earth would I come up with a truck of screaming maniacs if I was going to imagine something?
Another weird thing happened the next morning. I made it through the night and as the sun began to rise, I started walking across the park to head into town and all of a sudden above me in the early morning sky something huge, it looked like it was made of gold and surrounded by fire shot across the sky directly above my head. I don’t know if it was a meteorite or maybe the International Space Station or some satellite that was in orbit and somehow reflected the light of the rising sun. I have no idea, but I never spent any more nights in Buffalo Park.
Terror Couple Kill Colonel – Bauhaus
Black Ju Ju – Skeletal Family
Maybe Next Year – Two Witches
A Witch Stole Sam – Mark Korven
I swear on my children’s lives I am not making any of this up.
I grew up in a house with a mother, a father, one brother, and two sisters. So there were four kids; two boys and two girls. There were often semi-weird occurrences in the house that led some of us to believe that there was a ghostly presence that shared it with us. For example, one night my dad was sitting up watching TV and he heard someone walking up and down the hall. For whatever reason he was relatively sure that it wasn’t one of us kids and assumed it was my mother. Then later he want to bed and she asked “John?” He replies, “Yeah, it’s me.” And she says “Oh OK, I was wondering who was walking around in the hallway.”
Is it explainable? Sure. It could have been one of us kids. I don’t remember that particular story well enough to remember exactly why they didn’t think it could be one of us. But what follows I still have no explanation for except that it had to be a ghost:
The setup of the upstairs floor was as follows, the kitchen and living room were side-by-side and connected by a doorway which was also where the hallway met them. Imagine the two rooms are lungs and the hallway is the windpipe, and you’ve got it. Well one night I was in the living room when I heard someone come down the hall, and saw a female about the same height with a similar hair color as my sisters and mother [light brown] walk from the hallway into the kitchen. I said “Mom?” No answer came, but I could hear that someone was in there; the floor creaked, cupboards opened and closed, dished clinked. So I said “Sarah?” Still no answer, and still I could still hear that someone was in there. “Susan?” I call my other sister’s name, getting annoyed that whomever is in there won’t just say “No, it’s me.” So I got up in a huff, stomped into the kitchen saying “Why the hell aren’t you ans…” and there was NOBODY IN THERE!!!!!!!!!
Since then I’ve talked to my dad and other family members, and more than one of us had sworn we had seen a young woman in a nightgown with light brown hair out of the corner of our eye at one time or another.
Come Feel All Your Sisters
See You in Hell [Explicit] – Suicide Commando
Gallowdance – Lebanon Hanover
This story is true because it happened to me. I was there, Rob was there and it got weirder after it was all over.
It was 1989 and I was on Spring Break in South Padre Island, TX. I was a senior at the University of Texas and I went down to the coast along with a group of buddies. We rented a hotel room and proceeded to indulge in beer fueled mayhem as young men are wont to do. The day is filled with standing around on the beach, beer in hand and waiting for the afternoon tan line contest in front of the Hilton. The nights are filled with going to a club and basically doing the same thing. All this is done with a beer in the hand and yelling. A lot of yelling.
In South Padre, you have two options for night life. You can stay on the island and go to any of the clubs or you can drive 30 miles down the road to Brownsville, TX and cross the bridge into Matamoros, Mexico. You park at the University and walk across the bridge. You didn’t drive into Mexico unless you were an actual Brownsville native because it was a hassle getting back. There was a street past the bridge that was lined with bars and clubs and that’s where you went. On this night, that’s what we decided to do.
There were six of us and we piled into two cars and drove over to UT-Pan American, parked and went across the international bridge into Matamoros. The group had crossed the plaza and we split up. Four of the guys wanted to eat, so they went looking for a restaurant. My buddy Rob and I had met some girls, so we decided to go dancing with them. We all agreed that we would meet up at a club later, so we took off with the ladies. In case we missed each other, all the clubs closed at midnight and we’d just meet back at the bridge.
Fast forward a few hours later and Rob and I have been ditched by the ladies because he’s being a creeper and I’m just loud and obnoxious. We never found the other part of the group and it’s close to midnight. The bars and clubs will be closing so Rob and I head up the street toward the bridge. We’re both drunk as hell (and not driving back) when we reach the end of the street.
The plaza in front of the bridge is about 1000 feet of traffic lanes and sidewalks all converging at the guard station and the bridge. It has street lights and palm trees and cars. It’s fairly busy. We had just come up the main street and we were the only pedestrians there. We’re about to go across the plaza when a guy in a pickup truck calls out to us. He was sitting there, next to the last building and he’s not alone. The area is a bit dark, but there are three guys with him. He asked us if we want a ride to the bridge. He asked this in Spanish. Rob is from Brownsville and he started talking to the guy in Spanish. I know enough to know that Rob’s going to take ride to the bridge.
Rob jumps up into the bed of the truck and starts telling me that ‘this guy’s gonna give us a ride to the bridge.’ I’m drunk but I’m not stupid. I told Rob to get out of the truck. Rob insists that it’s going to be okay and for me to get in the truck bed. The three other guys start getting into the bed with Rob and now I’m panicking. I told Rob to get out of the truck. I start yelling at Rob to get out of the truck. I’m keeping my feet on the ground and I’m going full on Hulk rage at this stupid asshole who’s sitting in the bed of this truck with three sketchy looking guys. Rob still insists that everything is fine but he comes close enough to the tailgate and I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the truck bed. I stalked off toward the bridge pulling Rob behind me and he’s apologizing to these dudes who get out of the truck bed and stand next to the truck. I’m calling Rob a “dumb ass mother fucker” for getting in the truck and he’s still telling me that it was all going to be okay. We stumble across the plaza, get to the bridge and go back across. The other group finally catches up with us and we went back to the island. The rest of the week passes without incident and we went back to Austin and school.
After we got back to UT, a student who was in Matamoros that same night was missing. His name was Mark Kilroy. He had gone across the border the same night as we did, but he didn’t come home. His frat brothers spent another week down at the coast looking for him. Police in both Texas and Mexico expanded the search for him, but he was never found. The student newspaper at UT kept up with the story and we all knew about it.
About a month after Kilroy’s disappearance, a truck ran through the border checkpoint in Mexico. The cops followed it all the way to a ranch outside the city. They stopped the truck and arrested the driver. He said that he had participated in a sacrifice that made him invisible to the cops. The cops searched the ranch. They found Kilroy’s body buried near a fence with a piece of wire wrapped around his spine so that they could find the bones later. There was evidence of human sacrifice all around the ranch. Kilroy was not the only victim.
The leader of this cult had sacrificed victims in order to “hide” his followers. They were supposed to be invisible to cops. Kilroy got picked up because they needed a better sacrifice.
The cops found the cult leader and went to arrest him in Mexico City. His name was Adolfo Constanzo. He led a Santeria cult and they apparently practiced human sacrifice. He was killed during the police shootout when they went to arrest him.
We followed the whole story because it involved a UT student. The Daily Texan (UT’s student newspaper) was all over this story. The story of a disappearance and the subsequent events was unbelievable. How could something like this happen?
During the investigation, it was revealed how they picked up Kilroy. These guys had a truck parked at the end of the street and they were looking for a victim. They had parked at the edge of the plaza and were offering rides to people walking back to the bridge. Kilroy was walking alone that night and he was eventually strong armed into the truck which took him to the ranch outside of town. This is the same truck that Rob was sitting in.
I was walking across campus reading the paper when that little nugget of information was dropped. I ran into Rob a few minutes later. He too had read the story. His first words to me were “I was in the truck.”
I said, “Yeah, fucker, you were in the truck.”
This is what happened to me. It’s almost 30 years later, but I can still remember how dark it was on that corner and how my skin was crawling when Rob got into that truck. I don’t know it it’s possible to snap out of being three sheets to the wind and becoming fully cognizant of your surroundings because of an adrenaline rush. I just know that it happened and that I was there. I have told this story to my students and it was the only time I was ever able to make them shut up for a whole period of class.
Tape X – Vomito Negro
Violence (Midnight’mare Remix) – Implant
Mundlos – [:Sitd:]
Witchdance – Bestial Mouths
I usually don’t tell any of these stories, especially this particular one, to anyone.
Like you, sir, I had a firm disbelief in the supernatural. Currently, I’m a correctional officer who works at one of the oldest functioning prisons in America. It has been standing since 1927 and has seen its fair share of various uses. I can’t say much more without giving it away.
I worked the midnight shift (11:45 PM to 7:45 AM) exclusively for years to provide for my son and wife who was working her way through nursing school. In the early days of the institution, a particular area of the prison served as the morgue. It was a resting place for the inhabitants of the building during one of its prior missions; before it became a prison. There was an area where the deceased were prepped before being sent home to their families or the nearby pauper’s grounds.
It now functions as a Hobby Craft area – where inmates go to paint, sculpt, draw, etc..
To make a long story short – no one went down there after hours. There were … stories.
Stories I didn’t buy. So, one night, after we’d completed a 3:00 AM count to assure no one had made a break for freedom, I went into the depths of Hobby Craft to search for contraband. At the time, inmates had been known to brew “hooch” and hide it in the ceiling area above the painting room. As I was searching through a few inmate lockers, a voice, inches from my ear, hissed “GET … OUT … ” I was startled. I jumped. I waved my flashlight manically about to find no one even near me, let alone in my area of the basement.
Undaunted, and like many horror-movie characters soon to be dispatched, I forged ahead. I decided I would check an area of the ceiling just above a room with several pottery kilns. I pulled over a metal stool, placed it below a small suspended-ceiling tiled area, and climbed up to see what I could find.
The stool was pulled out from under me, flung across the room by an unseen force. I crashed onto a nearby table. Landing squarely on my back.
NO ONE WAS THERE.
… I’ve not been down into Hobby Craft after 10:00 PM since.
… That was almost eight years ago.
Rituel – She Past Away
Christfuck – :Wumpscut:
Motion – Boy Harsher
I have a brief story that happened a few years ago, when we took my niece and nephew -then 8 years old – to the local pumpkin patch.
The pumpkin patch had the usual attractions, including a corn maze that was “family friendly” and had no scary decorations, animatronics, or actors. It did have hot, dusty, ankle-twisting paths. It was early in the day and we had the maze to ourselves. A sort of quiet desperation settled in among the adults as we tried to find our way through it. The kids were full of energy however and were running ahead. My niece suddenly ran back to us, with a look of delight on her face. “I saw a baby deer!”.
There are no deer anywhere near the pumpkin patch. I asked her what it looked like and she said “a baby deer!” and ran ahead again. I wasn’t sure what kind of animal was in the maze with us.
My niece came racing back. “I saw it again!”
My nephew said “I saw it too. It was some kind of dog… deer… thing.”
I don’t know what the dog/deer thing was. None of us ever saw it and the kids never saw it again. I was really glad when we finally found the exit.
We go back every year, but that was the last time I went into the corn maze.
Feral Moans – Soft Kill
Sour – Void Vision
Remains – Zola Jesus
Blood Trails – Love Like Blood
the Falling Tower – SØLVE
As a teenager, my boyfriend and I went on a late-night drive with another couple. We decided to go in the other guy’s van to a local spot that was supposed to be haunted, but when we got onto the back road, the friend decided he wanted to park and “make out” with his girlfriend. The area had not yet been developed and was fairly rural. My boyfriend and I went for a walk in the woods. We weren’t that far from the van when we heard heavy footsteps. Thinking it was a local or our friends playing a joke, we just yelled “who’s there” and “come on, guys, knock it off”.
The footsteps got closer. They were almost on top of us. I should point out that it was a very bright, starry night, but we couldn’t see anything near us. Finally, when the person attached to the footsteps would have been no more than a couple of feet of us, we freaked out and ran back to the van. Our friends were not pleased when we started pounding on the doors, screaming to be let in. They did, though, and we told him to drive.
He put the van in gear, but before he could go any farther, there was loud pounding on the back of the van. There were windows in the rear; we looked out and saw nothing. He floored it. The location of the sound changed. The pounding sounded like it was coming from the roof.
As we neared the lights of the nearest town, the pounding stopped, and when we finally stopped at a gas station, we got out and checked. There was nothing there, but there was a large dent in the back of the van that hadn’t been there before.
I haven’t been so frightened before or since.
Surfin’ Dead – The Cramps
If you know anything about Mullica Hill, the downtown area is a village that was built in the late 18th century. Our home was built in about 1850. Mullica Hill has been documented many times by Ghost Hunters and other people who seek out ghosts, apparitions and other creepy things of the night. We did some research and found out that our home has had five previous owners over the last 160 years or so.
It was the first owner of our home who had us very perplexed. We found out this man was a doctor and he donated his home for two years to the soldiers of the North during the Civil War. He turned our home into a small Hospital to help the wounded who would come in from battles mostly from just south of us in West Virginia, Virginia and Western Pennsylvania. Apparently quite a few men died in our home during that time. His doctor was simply overrun with too many casualties and could not get to everybody himself.
Over the years we have had several things that have happened in our home that we just cannot explain and I have to tell you I am not one that easily believes in spirits, Ghouls and Things That Go Bump in the night. But on this one occasion something happened that I cannot explain. I was sitting in my living room watching television and there was an empty Coke can on our cocktail table in the living room. I noticed in my peripheral vision that the Coke can suddenly went from the right side of the table all the way to the left side which is a distance of about 4 ft. It just simply slid from one side to the other, coming to a halt right before the edge of the table. I immediately got up and ran to my wife shaking like a little baby because I just saw something that I could not explain. At first we talked it up to possibly a vibration caused by a truck driving by causing the Coke can to move but this was no ordinary movement. The Coke can just slid as if somebody was touching it and pushing it along the table. The entire event took about 2 seconds.
A few months later while my wife was laying in bed reading she described something like a feeling of a person laying on top of her body and pushing her down against the pillow and headboard of her bed. It took about 3 days for me to get her do come back down to reality.
Meanwhile about 2 weeks ago I was sitting in my attic, makeshift recording studio working at my computer when I felt my chair suddenly get pushed to the point where I nearly fell off it. I immediately turned around and thought my wife or stepdaughter were playing a joke on me. I looked up to the left, to the right and down the steps and again there was nobody there and in fact I had realized that my wife and stepdaughter had gone out to do some shopping so I was alone in the house. There was no wind, t here were no trucks that drove by and I know what I felt. I haven’t gone back to my computer since and I’m still afraid to even go near the chair. That’s my stories and I’m sticking to them