Ghost stories

[Moirae]

It being Halloween, I thought it might be interesting to share some ghost stories. So, if you have any, feel free to post.

I have so many ghost stories from over the years that it would take hours of typing. I thought that, instead, I'd start with a famous ghost story from my area...

The LaLaurie Haunting

Now they were socialites with Mr La Laurie being quite a famous Doctor for his time period. The La Lauries were very famous in their day but none more than Madame La Laurie.

They lived in a beautiful home in the French Quarter. This home has been owned by many people, including Nicholas Cage (he sold it a few years ago). If you go by the house, you will notice that one of the attic windows has poured cement over it. There is a very good reason for this...

Madame La Laurie was, in her day, a very prejudiced and hateful women even by the standards of the time. One night, one of the little slave girls was brushing the Madame's hair and accidentally pulled it. Madam La Laurie being the truly hateful woman that she was, grabbed a whip and chased her out onto the second floor balcony whipping her the whole time.

Now, the slaves in this area were Haitian, not African, and they had rebelled once before and killed many of the slave owners of the time. To prevent this from happening again, the locals enacted something called "The Black Laws". These laws stipulated the punishment that someone should receive for unduly harming or killing a slave.

The second floor balcony had wider slats at the door and the poor child was huddled in the corner protecting her head. She fell through the slats to the ground below and died instantly. The locals saw this and immediately reported what happened to the local police. Madame La Laurie was fined $500. Per the story, she laughed the entire time.

To this day, it is said that sometimes you will see a little girl run from a room on the second floor onto the balcony with her hands flailing as though she's protecting herself from attack. The little girl will fall through the slats in the corner but when you run over, no one will be there.

But this is not the end of the La Laurie tale.

One night the La Lauries were having a party and a fire broke out. The firemen, upon arriving, found that two slaves had been chained to the kitchen stove and they were the ones that started the fire.

When the firemen asked why they started the fire (what a horrible way to die after all), the slaves replied "It's better than whats happening in the attic".

Now, the firemen were wondering what was going on in the attic. On the pretense of looking for burning embers, they evacuated everyone from the building and entered the attic space only to come running out and throw up on the ground. What they found inside turned their stomachs.

The La Lauries had slaves chained to the walls with spikes pointing into their necks. The only way to stay alive was to pull forward at all times or they would be slowly scewered through the neck.

But that's not all.

Two people were laying on tables in a primitive sex change operation.

A child had had every bone in her body broken and reset. Her body formed the shape of a crab as this had obviously happened over years.

Now of course, this was horrifying. Slaves or not, there is no reason these people should have been able to do something so horrible to anyone. But they were powerful in the city, and the local police knew they had to do this the right way. So the police told everyone involved that they weren't to tell anyone and that they would be back in the morning with a warrant to properly arrest them.

Of course, by morning everyone in town knew what happened.

The police had to hold back the mob from the mansion because the locals (slave owners and slave alike) wanted to grab the La Lauries and pull them apart with horses.

Just as the warrant arrived and the police arrived to arrest them, a horse and buggy came barreling down the roadway and stopped in front of the house. Madame La Laurie ran out of the house and jumped in to the buggy. At this point, they realized that Dr La Laurie was the one driving the buggy and they surged forward to stop their escape.

Unfortunately they were too late and the La Lauries managed to escape justice riding off in to the sunrise. No one knows what happened to them after that.

To this day, it is said that the reason the window is poured with cement is because passers by used to see the dead faces of the tortured slaves in the window at night as this is the room where they were held.

There are also stories of a poor man wearing nothing but homespun trousers being seen walking down the stairs leading up to the apartments upstairs. He is carrying chains and moaning.

Unfortunately I don't know who currently owns the mansion, but if any of these are true, they must have some restless nights.

[protege]

Interesting story

I have some ghosts of my own. That is, my house is haunted. After I bought my house and moved in, I really had no idea as to its history. The few family members that were present at the closing...wouldn't have been out of place on Jerry Springer! That was the homeowner's daughter and her husband, and their loser kids. As for the homeowner herself, from what I understand...she was a nice old lady that is dearly missed. If she's still here, and doesn't cause trouble, she can stay as long as she wants.

I have a feeling that she made herself known earlier this past week. I've been dealing with some health issues, so keeping the place clean really hasn't been a priority. It's OK, but not perfect. So, you can imagine my surprise when I came home Monday night...and the entire house smelt of Clorox! That stuff was so strong, I could smell it out in the garage.

Odd thing about that, is that nothing had been cleaned. I checked the toilet, the bathroom sink, tub, and it was still as I'd left it. Even odder, is that the cleaners were still in the linen closet, and judging by the dust, hadn't been moved. To compound things further, I asked my mother if she'd been down (Mom had threatened to "help" clean), and she had been too busy. I have a feeling that the previous owner was giving me a hint...to clean the damn place up

Other than that, she's been pretty quiet over the past 7 years. The other ghost...hasn't been as quiet. This would be my white kitty, Snow. She died of a heart attack in the kitchen 6 months after I adopted her

For about a week after she died, I'd see this white flash, running around the house. It was rarely in the basement--always upstairs, and usually in the living room. Also odd, were the noises from "her" corner in my office. Before curling up and taking a nap, she would spend about an hour pawing and kneading the carpet. She loved to sleep in that corner.

Also odd, was that I'd sometimes come home...and find the living room heating vents closed! I guess she was too hot, and would close them. That happened at least once after she died.

But, what she *really* seems to enjoy, is pestering my current kitties. They'll chase each other around for hours

[Seshat]

Toth says he can see ElderlyCat sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, frolicking around the house or the yard.

[bhskittykatt]

My supervisor used to work at the Heathman Hotel in Portland, OR. What is now the Heathman used to be the "New Heathman". The owner told the chef at the old hotel next door that he would be taking over the kitchen in the new building. However, when the chef showed up for work at the new hotel, the owner told him he'd changed his mind. The chef, upset, went to the top floor (the 10th floor, which at the time was still under construction and was open to the elements) and jumped off. He passed all the 03 rooms on the way down, and it's said all the 03 rooms are now haunted. Popular culture says 703 is the most haunted, but my supervisor says they're all equally haunted.

The creepiest thing that happened to my supervisor there was one night when he took a room service order call from room 803. He was busy and jotted it down on a notepad, then after he hung up looked in the computer and saw no one was in room 803. After an hour, they called again bitching about where their room service order was. The call came from 803 and the guest said they were in 803. Supervisor sent his boss up to check on the room. The room was vacant. When they interrogated the lock on the door, it showed that the last person prior to the boss to enter the room was housekeeping two days prior. There were no more calls from 803 that evening. I can only presume the ghost took to Yelp to complain about the lack of service there.

[Ophbalance]

Not preciously a ghost story, but certainly in that vein.

I spent my youth in rural PA. One of the benefits to our lot was the neighbor beside us owned the surrounding acreage and didn't give a toot what we did with it. Well, within reason. As in "try not to burn down my lot again". But that's a different story. Our lot was about 1.5 acres with the back being all newer woods. Me, and a few of us in the neighborhood, would sometimes pass the evening "camping" out in my back woods. Mostly it was just to shoot the shit, but the true benefit was it also allowed us to light up the Marlboro's without fear of adult intervention.

The best experience was trekking back to the house one morning and almost stepping on a just birthed fawn. I wish I could bottle up how special it was to just witness that shining brief moment, until the little doe bolted deeper in the forest. The worst, however, scared the hell out of me. And I never went back there by myself at night again.

It was a fairly mild summer night. Unlike here in the south, PA nights tended to drop down into the 50 degree area even during the summers. As such we typically kept a fairly decent fire blazing. It was also a great source of light to keep one falling from the various fauna surrounding the site. Important to us as we discovered a means to acquire adult drinks as the years went by. As the night wound on we allowed the fire to dip to mostly ashes.

Now, the downside of a fire is it really plays hell with your night vision. As the fire calmed we noted just how bright the moon was that night. In fact, it was just amazing to see the shafts of light as they lite up the clearing we had carved out... and parts of the new path we had started forging. I wish I could convey how magic it seemed at first, with those brilliant shafts of light cutting through the tress and brush, but I fail to find words to really do it justice. But there were also very dark pools of pitch black to go with the light. And that's what started us talking about ghost stories, I think.

Things got... weird over time. We all started to notice that the embers of our dying fire were almost hypnotic. So much so that we had pull back the third member of our party as he was in serious danger of face planting into the ash. We also started to see things in the fire. And I realize that a fire can be like a cloud, with the imagination leading one to see things that aren't really there, but this seemed different. All of us started to feel not right. And a shaft of moonlight started to become sinister... seeming to draw one in to promises something great but ultimately evil.

All of this can be discounted on the wild imagination of teens who've had too much nicotine and soda, to be sure. But the final straw and the thing that still makes me question how much was real... and how much could truly have been other worldly, happened shortly after the above.

As we were sitting around the fire, too afraid to make our way back to the house for fear of leaving the light, two of us noted that something strange was going on with the third. We had all made a pledge by this time to not look directly into the coals of the fire. All of us sure something odd was there to capture and ensnare you. Except the youngest of our trio ignored this. He was between my best friend and I. It dawned on me and the best friend that our younger friend was speaking. Speaking... really doesn't cover it though. Chanting is closer to the truth. Softly at first, but raising in volume as time went on. The problem was... he wasn't speaking English any longer. It was... foreign. Odd. And it HURT your head! I cannot recall the sounds, the inflection, anything of that nature. BUT. We KNEW what the words meant... and the meaning behind it promised evil and foulness and death. I've never before, and never since, been afraid of words. But I was that day and that time.

I truly hope it was just a case of kids being stupid and overly imaginative. Because if it's not, if what we truly heard and saw was real that night, I hope that I never have to ever come across anything of its ilk in this lifetime again.

[Moirae]

Another one for you from my area...

Everyone knows the city was originally settled by the French. However, after a time, the city began to be nothing more than a money sink and the King of France sold the city to the Spanish. And didn't bother telling the locals he'd done it.

So one day, the Spanish show up on the shores of the city saying they were taking over. Of course, the locals said "what?" and thought they were being invaded. In retaliation, they staged a revolution and killed a bunch of the Spanish. The remaining Spanish, they stripped naked and tied to the masts of their ships, then sent them back up the river to the closest Spanish post.

The Spanish were furious and sent back a garrison to subjugate the rebellious French.

And they succeeded. Well... after a fashion.

You see, they claimed ten people were the leaders of the rebellion and these people were executed and their bodies staked out in Jackson Square as a sign to all who might rebel what would happen to them if they should try.

The Priest at St Louis Cathedral begged the Spanish to allow him to cut down the bodies and give them their last rights while burying their bodies in sanctified ground. He was, of course, refused.

What follows is called "The Three Miracles".

Anyone that lives here will know how horrible it can rain. Deep drenching rain that, without lights, is pitch black at night and can be quite frightening.

That night it poured rain, and the Spanish guards sought refuge inside the church (at the time, it was a Bastille, not a Cathedral, so the church was much smaller than it is now).

Seeing the luck, the Priest gathered several townsfolk and they went out into the Square to cut down the bodies. They were not seen by the Spanish. The night was too dark.

When the bodies were cut, they brought them alongside one side of the church to the consecrated graveyard behind the church, all the while singing hymns at the top of their lungs. The noise from the pounding rain drops was too loud.

To the back of the church they went and spent hours digging graves for their fallen friends and family, all the while singing. The night was too dark and loud to be seen or heard.

When the light at last broke the morning and the rain died down, the people were buried and it looked as though nothing at all happened. But the bodies were gone and the Spanish were confused. Since they did not know what happened, they were unable to do anything about it.

And so the story goes, if you go down the right side of the church at dawn while it's raining, you can hear the ethereal distant voices singing hymns. But only for a moment.

To tell the truth... I've never heard it. But then again, I'm not a church type person.

[Sapphire Silk]

I saw a ghost when I was 12, at summer camp.

There was a story about a girl who, back in the 1950's, stole a horse from the stable and went riding alone on the back mountain trails. One of the trails went by the old rifle range (which hadn't been used in 20 years since that incident); the rifle fire spooked the horse, and she fell off, hit her head, and died.

Fast forward 20 some years. It's July, and a hot night. Everyone went to sleep sweltering. In the middle of the night, I woke up freezing, feeling like I couldn't breathe. I could see my breath. I realized that the normal night noises had vanished. Everyone else was fast asleep.

I heard a clip clop sound. I realized it was hoof beats, and the sound echoed in the compound. I could feel my heart begin to pound. I slipped out of bed (I was on a bottom bunk, so it was easy enough) and peeked out of the window.

In the compound, near the counselors tent, I saw a girl about my own age on a horse. She was near the trail head that went behind my cabin. That trail went to an empty field that was overgrown and seldom used, but used to be the rifle range. Further up was a trail head that led to a horse trail that ran along the mountain ridge.

As I looked at this girl, I realized I could see through her After a few minutes, she moved on up the trail towards the rifle range and disappeared. As soon as she vanished, the air warmed and the night noises returned. Everyone else slept through the whole thing. I tried to wake a friend, but she was very drowsy and said she hadn't heard a thing.

It took me awhile to get back to sleep.

Of course, when I told the story in the morning, no one believed me.

[mjr]

I think I may have somewhat of a ghost story of my own...

I used to work in Fast Food, as many of you know. The place I worked at was built at the same site where a lumber yard was torn down.

Well, as the story goes, apparently a guy died at the lumber yard years ago, and still haunts the property.

We didn't know anything other than that, so we named him "Fred".

Apparently, he was friendly, and several people "experienced" him. Usually it was something like a few paper towels would roll down the roll, apparently by themselves (I was told this by someone). I do know that one night I was the late-night porter, and I was at the restaurant by myself (the manager and other employees had gone home at this point).

Anyway, I'm up there standing on a ladder over the fry vats cleaning the vent-hood, and very, very briefly catch what I think is someone passing by behind me in the reflection of the stainless steel of the vent-hood grease trap.

[protege]

Another one for you all..

Earlier in the week, I had the MG out, and was enjoying some of the back roads. Not far from the county line, is an old abandoned rail tunnel. Less than 100 feet away, is its matching road tunnel. I've heard some stories about both of them. Both duck under the CSX rail line.

Locally, the road tunnel is known as "Corvette Tunnel." The story goes, that some kids were drag racing through the tunnel, and were killed. Supposedly, if you drive into the tunnel at night and shut your car off...you can hear and see sounds and lights of the doomed car. I've never done that, but it is pretty damn creepy there at night. It's nearly pitch black, and usually lots of fog and mist off the nearby stream...both of which don't help matters.

As for the rail tunnel, that has its own story. This tunnel, was supposedly the site of a near-fatal electrocution. The story goes that a rail worker was either working on the signal system up on the CSX line, and either got hit by lightening, or zapped by whatever he was working on. Supposedly, he was left with glowing green skin. Again, if you were to drive into his tunnel and call for the Green Man, he'll come and peer into your vehicle, as well as making it impossible to restart. I've never seen him myself, but again, the area he's claimed to inhabit is spooky at night.

But, back to me driving through there. Before you get to Corvette Tunnel, the road narrows quite a bit. The road makes a tight 90-degree corner, that's only wide enough for a single car. There's a stop sign, and most people (including myself), blast the horns before going through. This night though, it was different.

I start with the horn, then slowly make my way around the corner. Mid-way through the tunnel, my horns suddenly go out, and the mist I was approaching suddenly gets the hell out of my way As if that wasn't enough, as soon as I got out of the tunnel, the horns came back to life

I'd like to think that it was just mist. But, given the time of year...it wouldn't surprise me if the Green Man was sending me a message. That is, I'd not only woken his ass up, or nearly run him over!

[Moirae]

These stories are awesomely creepy.

I should have started this a couple weeks ago. Perfect for Halloween.

So I have a nice and creepy personal story for you.

My grandmother's house has always been incredibly haunted. All of the grandkids have stories from the house, though for some reason my grandmother and all the parents say it's not. Since I have so many stories, I'll slowly share them rather than all at once.

One day, when I was around ten years old, I was being a little naughty. See, all the adults were in the dining room chatting and I was bored. So I started to play some music on the ghetto blaster (yeah, this was the 80's lol), and jumping on the couches and chairs. Back and forth over and over again.

During one song, I turned around to look towards the tv. To the left of the tv is this great big picture window, about 6 feet high and 7 feet wide.

And there was a face. And not a little face either. It was almost 6 feet tall. It had been skin, and long pointed elven type ears. It's black and white eyes were slanted upward and it had a cats slitted pupils. It had high cheek bones and really thin lips and as I turned to look at it, it smiled a wide grin and showed razor sharp thin fangs.

I could have sworn it was a goblin or a gremlin or something and this was about a week before Halloween.

I shrieked and ran from the room to get the adults while yelling "there's a face in the window". Of course, everyone ran into the living room and there was no face in the window.

I'm fully convinced that my grandfather is there protecting the family from that thing. You see, when I was around 16 or 17 years old (I used to stop at the house every day after school to see gramma because we only lived a block away), I saw him standing at the bottom of the stairs on the landing leading to the basement on the way out. The thing is... he died many years before I was born (when my mom was 17. I was born when she was 27).

[Sapphire Silk]

As for the rail tunnel, that has its own story. This tunnel, was supposedly the site of a near-fatal electrocution. The story goes that a rail worker was either working on the signal system up on the CSX line, and either got hit by lightening, or zapped by whatever he was working on. Supposedly, he was left with glowing green skin. Again, if you were to drive into his tunnel and call for the Green Man, he'll come and peer into your vehicle, as well as making it impossible to restart. I've never seen him myself, but again, the area he's claimed to inhabit is spooky at night.

Stories like that are fairly common. I've got two:

There's a rail tunnel story in Jamestown NC about the White Lady. Story is, in the 1920's or so, a young lady went to a party with a young man. She died in a car wreck on the way home.

Occasionally, passers by will see a young woman in white hitch hiking near the rail tunnel and pick her up. She always sits in the back seat, and it's always raining when she's seen. When they pull up to her house, she disappears.

I drive by that tunnel every day on the way home from work. I've never seen her.

Then there's the story of Big Liz in Dorchester County, Maryland.

Big Liz was the slave of a Confederate Sympathizer named John Riggan (who was a real person; I've researched him). Riggan was in the business of smuggling gold to the Confederacy to help the war effort across the Chesapeake Bay. During the war, the Union Army had a large occupational force on the Eastern Shore (one of the reasons why Maryland never seceded despite being a slave state). They had a lot of spies and found out what Riggan was up to. So they sent out a force to arrest Riggan and seize the gold.

Riggan was tipped off, and took the gold out into the swamp (Dorchester County is below sea level and very wet) with the help of his slave Big Liz who was as tall as a man and heavily muscled. After she helped him bury the gold, he shot her and cut off her head, leaving her body in the swamp.

The local story is if you drive along a certain patch of road (can't remember the name of the road or the bridge now), stop by the bridge and honk your horn and flash your lights 3 times, you'll summon the ghost of Big Liz. Your engine will die and your lights will go out.

[protege]

At least the Green Man had some truth to it--the person involved was real. Because of his appearance, he rarely went out during the day. Most nights, he would walk along the highways. His story got twisted around over the years.

But, back to the ghosts...

Before my grandmother's farm was sold, I had some strange experiences there. My grandparents lived in an 1860s farmhouse out in the country. Except for the streetlight on the corner, and the occasional whirring of the mine blowers, it was pitch black and very quiet at night.

The creepy stuff started not long after my grandfather died in '89. One night, the first summer without him, I was staying there. I heard a noise on the porch around midnight. When I looked outside, I saw a large blue mist...roughly human-shaped It didn't stick around very long, nor did it return. It slowly moved off the porch, down the sidewalk, and out through the gate.

For years, I'd spend weekends at the farm, helping my grandmother out. Normally, I'd stay up late, watching TV. Most nights, I'd constantly get the feeling like I was being watched. That feeling...seemed to direct my eyes towards the doorway which once led into Grandpa's office. He spent hours sitting at his desk...which looked out into the living room with the TV.

As if that wasn't enough, I'd sometimes feel his hand on my shoulder Again, it always happened at night. First time it happened, it scared the crap out of me. Then I realized that he was simply trying to tell me that he was watching over his family. Unfortunately, since the farm was sold...it hasn't happened since

As far as I know, I'm the only one out of 10 grandchildren that this stuff has happened to. Probably because I was the oldest, and spent the most time with them.

[Ree]

These stories are awesomely creepy.

I should have started this a couple weeks ago.

Well, actually, someone else did.

It's a big board, though, and a quick search shows numerous threads along the same theme. It seems everyone loves a good ghost story.

[cashierbex]

I have a couple.

1. I like to go to cemetaries before 1 am. But there is one I avoid here.

Reason 1:
My roommate went with a ghost hunting group one night and there was a mausoleum that she said that smelled so bad she avoided it. She has some pictures of a tree with a misty thing going on.

Reason 2:
I went with my roommates family to it again. Heard wispers before we entered saying get out. The feel we had was enough to leave. But something evil was going on.

Reason 3:
A friend and I decided to go around 12 am. We drove in and instantly froze. She saw a figure that was clearly smiling an evil grin at her. She and I decided to leave withing seconds. It was pure evil going on in there.


2. My roommate's parent's house is semi haunted (I say that cause it isn't too bad). There is a little girl and a guy and a german shepard. I heard the little girl one night that I visited giggle while I was on my way from the bathroom. In my roommate's old room (also was my old room after a while) I got woken up and saw a black figure staring at my betta fish and walk towards me and disappear. I heard the dog a few times, also. I have a couple of pictures of the guy somewhere.

3. In my place now (stopped in my room after getting a bearded dragon) is haunted. Actually had a lady tell us from way up north she can try to talk to the ghosts here. We live in a 8 apartment complex. They go around each one. There was two that answered. They don't like my dogs. And one said the younger one wasn't a puppy, he was the devil. I call him devil dog. There were huge incidents in my room at 2 am that led me to no sleep before work. Hear my name being called, shit falling. Thankfully it has stopped. I like my sleep.

4. There is another cemetary I have been to a few times. First time nothing. Second time we heard a music box. And was followed by a few spirits. And the thing that had us leave was hearing a flute. A wooden flute. We felt unwlecomed after that. Another night was a lot worse. You see, someone was playing with voodoo shit. Drunk and stupid. There was a screech (at first didn't sound human). And we felt hot. Like getting electricuted hot. And this was right after taking a picture (which was never recovered). Whatever it was, it was not happy with the drunk idiot. I also had something try to attatch itself on me. It was not fun.

[AccountingDrone]

I have been to 5 or 6 places with Ed and Lorraine Warren back in the 90s when I had the time and leisure and wasn't working overnight on weekends. Fairly interesting. I have a friend who did their trip to Britain, and went on a fair number of investigations of theirs as well.

I keep meaning to suggest a couple of local cemeteries to Ghost Hunters, they have a reputation locally, though I have never actually seen anything when driving past the smaller of the 2 [which I do at least once a week now I am not working, and did for about 5 years straight back in the 90s when I got off work at 11 pm to 0200 in the morning depending on exactly which day it was.