The title says it all, post your creepy experiences that have scared the living shit out of you.
No creepy pasta just experiences...
I seen the two girls from the shining in my hallway but who hasn't that happened to?
Oooh, I have a good one.
My first year in San Francisco. Me? Awkward, nerdy, too shy to ditch my boy-cut tees for some lady-appropriate clothing. I spent most of my time hiding under a hat. Ah, college.
I sat on the sofa one night. 3 AM, laptop warming my thighs, the room lit only by my screen. Someone shuffled in the dark from the bedrooms behind me. I couldn't see who it was--my eyes, accustomed to the glow of my machine, weren't prepared for the darkness when I strained to see who wandered at that time of night. "Hello?" I called. "Someone awake?"
The footsteps rubbed on the carpet in a way that tightened my insides and clenched my jaw. I have a sensory disorder, and certain sounds and sensations are worse than nails on a chalkboard for me. Feet brushing against carpet is a major culprit. I cringe now just thinking of it! The feet, whoever they belonged to, scrubbed against the floor until they clapped against the linoleum of the kitchen. I didn't recall any of my roommates claiming to be a sleepwalker. I called again. "Whose awake?"
Things were quiet for awhile. I contemplated flipping on a light, but the switch was out of reach and I was lazy comfortable in my corner of the sofa. I decided to use my computer to light the area. I turned the machine to face the kitchen.
It was empty.
Now, it's about time I describe my kitchen at this place. It opened into the living room. Barely one could fit in at a time, it was so small. Not ideal for a roommate situation, no--but it had a dishwasher at least. The oven wasn't exactly old, but it lacked buttons. Only switches and knobs were used to control the oven's temperature and various functions. One such control was the oven light, activated by a switch. The light would come on with a metallic twang from somewhere in the guts of that oven. Nothing about this thing was automatic.
I faced the laptop towards me and returned to goofing off on the net, or whatever it was I was doing at that time. Confident I was alone, I sank back on the sofa and considered my sleeping options. My room was an uncomfortable place--something about it always felt heavy and cold. I prefered the living room, the couch, the TV in front of me. My flatmates didn't like it, however. What to do?
TWANG. The oven light brightened the kitchen. An eerie orange glow settled on the countertops and melted into the linoleum. Every fiber of my body stiffened. I sat straight up.
But no one was there. No one was in the kitchen. What had happened?
This may seem like a random happening, but I assure you, it wasn't. A few weeks later I started hearing my name if I stayed up late. My roommates could be gone, partying or at home, but I'd hear it--a quick whisper from the hall near my room. The apartment was difficult to stay in, day or night. I didn't like being alone. I didn't know why at first--I didn't jump to the conclusion that the place was haunted. Until then, I didn't think much on ghosts or the paranormal. An irrational fear swallowed me up the remaining few months. I'd have nightmares. Misery was a constant pressure sitting on my shoulders. Bugs invaded the apartment next: bed bugs, those little assholes. They originated in my room, the exterminator claimed. But how? Where did they come from before that? I stayed in no hotels. I had no friends over. How did they arrive?
Because of the infestation, I was relocated to a new apartment.
Suddenly, the depression was gone. I slept with no fear. Things felt... lighter.
I found out a few years later that quite a few murders took place in that complex before I arrived, and continue to take place to this day. The complex is also close to a cemetery, though I don't see cemeteries as a threat.
I've gotten into paranormal investigation stuff a lot since then. I don't call them, I don't do ouija or any stupid crap like that, but I'm curious about haunted places and feel no fear towards spirits anymore. I swear they come around me sometimes. The place I was living in until a few months ago was also a place of random activity, I believe due to its location. My roommates and I had some strange incidents there, but I won't talk about them here--I'll just sound like a nutter if I do.
Now we live in an apartment between three cemeteries and various funeral services. Ironically, nothing happens there. It's actually kinda lonely!
Misskokamon, that's a creepy story! I keep hoping something like that would happen to me...
I had something less creepy happen, but strange anyway. Back in my childhood house, maybe the last year I was there (which would make me a bit over 20), there was a bookshelf in the corner of the room, and a newspaper had fallen behind it, in the little corner space. I hadn't bothered to remove the newspaper for a while.
One night, right after turning off the light, it started. There was a noise. Small things would fall and roll on that newspaper - that's what the noise sounded like. Drop, roll. Drop, roll. Of course, I turned the light on to look. By the way, my sister's bed was in the same room, so she was there and she was hearing it too. We both looked behind the bookshelf and there was absolutely nothing on the newspaper, or on top of the bookshelf. We turned off the light, the noise started again. I turned on the light and as I was watching the newspaper, I heard the drop, roll distinctly, and saw nothing. The sound was strong enough for something visible to have been there, but there was nothing.
We left the newspaper there and heard the same noise for 3 nights. We tried to ask it questions to see if it was sentient, and tell it to drop-roll if it's a "yes." That didn't work. After the 3 nights, it stopped. I still have no idea what it was.