“TRUE TALES FROM THOSE WHO SURVIVED BEING BURIED ALIVE” and 3 More Dark True Stories! #WeirdDarkness
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IN THIS EPISODE: It could be everyone’s ultimate fear. Not death… but being buried before death. Buried alive. It’s not just a trope of horror cinema and novels, it has truly happened on a few occasions – and we’ll hear stories from a few people who were buried alive, but survived to tell the tale. (I Was Buried Alive) *** The circumstances of wrestling coach John du Pont’s bizarre crimes were portrayed in the critically acclaimed true crime drama film, Foxcatcher. Steve Carell was lauded for his performances as John du Pont, and the film was nominated for five Academy Awards. But how true is the film compared to the actual events? (The Real Story Behind The Movie Foxcatcher) *** A Weirdo family member relays a terrifying story of what is described as “El Nahual” in Mexico – a shapeshifter, that her dad barely escaped from! (El Nahual In The Avocado Grove) *** Reddit users share their own personal tales of how they became believers in ghosts and the paranormal. (How I Came To Believe)
TRANSCRIPT FOR THIS EPISODE…
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LINKS, EPISODES, AND PAGES MENTIONED IN THIS EPISODE…
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STORY AND MUSIC CREDITS/SOURCES…
(Over time links can and may become invalid, disappear, or have different content.)
“How I Came To Believe” by Mick Jacobs: http://bit.ly/2KXUZH9
“I Was Buried Alive” by Lisa Waugh: http://bit.ly/2Zf2PEW
The Real Story Behind The Movie Foxcatcher” by MacKenzie Stuart: http://bit.ly/31rvNhv
“El Nahual In The Avocado Grove” submitted anonymously by a Weirdo family member
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“I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.” — John 12:46
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Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised.
For most people to believe in the supernatural, they need to live through a convincing ghost story. Plenty of people experience supernatural phenomena and become believers in the paranormal, and their tales might even make a believer of you. Believers in undead spirits share all sorts of real ghost stories that might convince people the supernatural is real. Though most specter and poltergeist experiences tend to land somewhere between unsettling and utterly terrifying, a few people have ghosts stories of benign spirits. It appears even the intentions of spirits, much like the entities themselves, remain outside the realms of human understanding.
I’m Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness.
Welcome, Weirdos – this is Weird Darkness. Here you’ll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained.
Coming up in this episode…
It could be everyone’s ultimate fear. Not death… but being buried before death. Buried alive. It’s not just a trope of horror cinema and novels, it has truly happened on a few occasions – and we’ll hear stories from a few people who were buried alive, but survived to tell the tale.
The circumstances of wrestling coach John du Pont’s bizarre crimes were portrayed in the critically acclaimed true crime drama film, Foxcatcher. Steve Carell was lauded for his performances as John du Pont, and the film was nominated for five Academy Awards. But how true is the film compared to the actual events?
A Weirdo family member relays a terrifying story of what is described as “El Nahual” in Mexico – a shapeshifter, that her dad barely escaped from!
Reddit users share their own personal tales of how they became believers in ghosts and the paranormal.
We’ll begin with that story.
While listening, be sure to check out the Weird Darkness website. At WeirdDarkness.com you can sign up for the newsletter to win monthly prizes, find paranormal and horror audiobooks I’ve narrated, watch old horror movies for free, listen to my other podcast “The Church of the Undead”, plus you can visit the “Hope In The Darkness” page if you are struggling with depression or dark thoughts. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.
By the way, Weird Darkness is in the running to be voted “Best Horror and Crime Podcast” by Podcast Magazine – but I need your votes to make that happen! I have a link below in the show notes to take you to the voting page, and you can vote as often as you’d like, so please come back every day and vote again! And thanks in advance for doing so!
Now.. bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness!
HOW I CAME TO BELIEVE
From Redditor /u/gabberchella: Not me, but my mom had one. She’s been a believer ever since. My grandpa passed away on Christmas (his favorite holiday) and after dealing with the shock we started to figure out what to do with his things. He was a hardcore hoarder and had barns filled with crap that nobody had gone in for probably 15 years. So one night my mom is sleeping and dreams that she woke up to a knock at our back door. She goes out and sees my grandpa standing there. Shocked, she yells at him that it’s 2:30 in the morning. He tells her he loves her, and that she needs to tell my grandma where the money is, because ‘You always gotta tell Mema where the money is, she worries.’ My mom stands there confused and asks what he’s talking about. He goes on to say that it’s in the barn, under all this crap on the left hand side. My mom wakes up, thinks it’s strange, but goes and looks in this barn. And there it is, right where he said it was. Dozens of coffee cans filled with quarters and dollar bills. So weird. I like to think he was looking out for my grandma.
From Redditor /u/mynamesyow19: My friend’s aunt and uncle live in a 100-plus-year-old house in a little German neighborhood in our city. They have always sworn they have an elderly female ghost living in their home. But most of the family has never seen her so they kind of half-believed them, but never completely until last summer. They were having their kitchen re-modeled and had some guys doing the floors. While I am hanging with my friend, she gets a call from her aunt. Her aunt, who is at work, asks my friend if she can go over to the house and check on them because the guys called and said something happened in the house and they won’t go back in. My friend lives close and says sure she’ll go over and check on them. So I go with her because it sounds odd/interesting. We go over there and these two redneck-y guys, one older and one young guy, are sitting on the front porch both smoking cigarettes and looking a little shaky. My friend walks up introduces herself and asks them what’s up. And the old guy nervously says that they were in the kitchen ripping up the floor and it got freezing cold (middle of the summer, mind you) and they both looked up to see this old woman standing in the kitchen staring at them very disapprovingly. They say she was kind of see-through and didn’t have the bottom half of her legs. That’s when they freaked out and ran out of the house. They tell my friend they won’t go back in unless someone from the family was with them. The description they gave of the woman was exactly the way her aunt/uncle had always described her. Crazy.
From Redditor /u/pitpusher: Significant other and I own an old farm for retirement. It’s three miles off the blacktop down a winding, tree-lined dirt road. After rounding a curve you cross a small creek, and there just above flood line sits the tiny house, barn, and outbuildings. The house was built before 1900 and the original owners raised 11 children there without running water or electricity (spring out back). The family owned the property up until the ’70s. I was staying there alone shortly after we purchased the place because my mother (who lived near-by) was fresh out of the hospital and I was helping her get back on her feet. One afternoon I rushed into the house to get something before running back to Mom’s. I was in a terrific hurry and not thinking about anything but the task at hand. I rounded a corner into the bedroom and was hit with a feeling of a presence. I instantly knew someone/something wanted my attention. My heart pounding in my ears I finally said, ‘Whoever you are, as long as you aren’t evil, please show me what you have to tell me but don’t scare me… I gotta stay here alone. I will try to help you if I can.’ The image of the back porch step came to mind. I’d noticed it right after we closed on the property. It was a plain square stone with beveled edges – identical to the turn-of-the-century headstones in the lonesome graveyard one mile down the road. Fast forward a week: the previous owner stopped by. Before he could sit down I blurted out, ‘Is that a tombstone by the back porch?’ Color drained from his face and he collapsed onto the chair responding, ‘Well, I don’t know the exact spot but there is a baby buried in the backyard.’ Seemed the youngest child of the original family (the 12th) died at birth or shortly after. As was the tradition in the rural south the child was placed close to the home. This tombstone had always been there (nothing carved on it, just flat), and the then-owner decided it would make a great step and built a second door for the tiny back porch. He swore to me he’d never moved it. We removed the second door and are making plans to have the family name and dates they lived here carved on the stone so that when we leave no one makes this mistake again. Next to it I planted daffodils to come up every year. The lights coming on and off in the house and at the same time in my truck parked outside has stopped and I no longer feel that presence that I believe was the baby’s mother. She died in a nursing home many miles away and I fear she worried about her baby’s unmarked grave.
From Redditor /u/Ridiculous_Diagnosis: I moved into a place where the family next door and the last tenant of my apartment both died in their homes. One night, I was in bed and looking at my phone. It suddenly got really cold. Like walk-in freezer cold. I thought that was weird for a hot summer night with a sub-par air conditioner but I just pulled on some covers and kept reading. My phone then died. ‘Alright, that’s weird,’ I thought. I went to check my computer and shortly after browsing there, it died too. What the actual f*ck? So I was sitting there, suddenly aware that I didn’t feel alone anymore.With covers pulled up to my eyeballs and no phone, I was just looking around my room waiting for something to happen. The light turned on. Nope! I frantically fumbled for my phone and grabbed a bat under my bed (because I was going to beat the ghost?). I eventually calmed down enough to remember that people who believe in ghosts say that you can ask them to leave. Worth a shot, I thought. ‘Hey… so um… I work really early in the morning and I need to sleep. You’re scaring me and I would prefer it if you left. Sorry… no hard feelings.’ No more than five seconds later, the light went off. I slept in the living room with my dog that night.
From Redditor /u/JustAnHallucination: When I was around 12 my family and I moved into a new house. Money was tight so we were renting it. It was a fairly nice place and newly built, so I liked the sound of it. We arrive to start unpacking. I step inside to check the place out but it just seems… off. I tell my mum and she tells me it’s because it’s a fairly new place and to get over it, so I do. On the first night, I’m sitting in what was supposed to be the dining room, playing games on my DS. I hear my little brother, who’s around six, say ‘Hey, guys.’ When I look over, I see that all of the cupboards are open. Now, none of us could have reached the ones on top because they were way too high. My dad was the tallest at the time and he was 5’6″. Somehow my sister manages to convince everyone that I am playing a prank, but I’m freaking the f*ck out, but I somehow manage to convince myself it was my sister trying to get me in trouble. After a few days we all begin to notice weird things, like shadows moving past windows and our puppy barking at one specific corner of the house. The shed in the backyard is a no-go zone for everyone, even our puppy hates it. One Saturday morning we wake up early while our mum is taking our dad to work (He didn’t drive. He got into an accident when he was 18 and refused to drive since). As my sister and I are watching cartoons, our little brother screams and runs to us crying, saying he saw a witch. We hide in our rooms and tell mum when she gets back. She asks my brother what he saw and he describes a black, shadowy figure, even though it was broad daylight. She obviously thinks it was the imagination of a kid and dismisses it. I’m scared to death by all these weird things, and I ask my sister if I can sleep by her that night (she was doing karate so I felt safe by her). She agrees, but that night I wake up early. I look into the corner of the room and it’s there. Just standing and staring. It scares the f*ck out of me and I run to my dad and he lets me sleep by him and mum. After three months we move out. Just a few months ago mum and I got to talking about that house and she told me that she thinks it was haunted. I asked her why and she said something that scared the f*ck out of me. ‘I saw a black shadow in the corner of your room when you were a kid. It was just staring at you. I used to hide crosses in your room thinking it would scare it off.’ After doing some research, mum found out that the owner’s husband died in that house.
From Redditor /u/OilOnMy40X: I was about nine or 10. My father had just died a few months prior. My mom had left to go to work and I was home with my older sisters. Well, I was feeling particularly happy that day and raced around the house laughing and playing. All of a sudden I heard my mom call my name, so I went looking for her. When I got to one side of the house, I heard her voice on the opposite end of the house. So I ran back. This went on for a few minutes until I remembered seeing her leave for work. Suddenly the voice that was calling me became very nasty and creepy-sounding; it still resembled my mom’s voice but it was… different, like two people saying my name simultaneously. Then, the voice sounded like it was in one of the back bedrooms so I ran to it and looked around. Then it called me again but it was coming from the closet. As I stood in front of the closet, I again remembered seeing my mom leave and I started to get scared. That was when the voice stopped sounding like my mom and sounded downright evil. I don’t know why I thought about opening the closet door but I had to see if my mom was in there or not. Right when I was reaching for the door, another voice told me leave the door alone and go back to the living room. I took off running and crying and told my sisters what happened. They told my mom and a few days later a woman and a man came and put something under our house and around the doorways and told me to never answer or listen for that voice again.
From Redditor /u/twopercentmilks: This past summer, my grandmother suddenly passed away from a stroke. The day after, I was sitting in my living room with my mother when the TV suddenly turned on and started blaring Japanese music on YouTube (she was Japanese). We checked the source and turned out it was the laptop connected to the TV. It was turned off. We were all freaked out so we checked all of our YouTube accounts histories, and nothing came up… A few days later, my brother was looking for videos of her to play at the funeral, and he found a video of her looking back and waving. The date stamp on the video was the exact date and time as when she passed away, just a few years earlier. After the funeral, all of my house’s appliances started breaking down (fire alarm, washer, fridge, microwave), all within a few days. We got everything fixed up except the microwave, which had to be taken to a specific factory for repairs. When my dad drove out there, he realized that the factory was right beside my grandmother’s grave. Around the same time, my mom (who always drove my grandmother around) started noticing that her car’s seatbelt alarm (the one that goes off when you sit on the passenger seat without a seatbelt) started going off when she was driving alone. I’ve never been a believer in ghosts before, but it oddly gives me a sense of comfort knowing my grandmother could still be with me.
From Redditor /u/Hobbsgolbin123: When I was a child, I always had bizarre dreams where I had a friend named Michael. He was a young boy a few years older than me, and we always played games and had fun. When I told my parents, they didn’t seem to care too much until I described him. Unbeknownst to me, Michael had the same name and appearance as my uncle who died in a boating accident as a child. His death devastated my grandparents, and so my family never displayed photos of him. This freaked my mom out. How did I know what he looked and acted like if I’d never seen him? After a couple weeks my family decided to light some candles and prayed in an attempt to exorcise him. When I went to bed that night I had a dream where a very serious Michael offered me some candy (it looked like a red jawbreaker). He kept insisting over and over that I eat a piece of candy. Seeing him so serious scared me after he’d always been so happy and playful, so I declined his offers. The last thing I remember before waking up was seeing how sad he was. That was the last time I saw Michael. When I told my mom she looked relieved and told me that ‘that was him trying to take over your body.’ No one’s talked about it in around 15 years so I’d have to ask my mom about the story again.
From Redditor /u/Via-Kitten: I was probably seven or eight and my parents were throwing a big summer party for my dad’s birthday. All the adults were on the deck or inside so us kids (maybe eight or so of us between the ages of five and 12) decided to play Ghost in the Graveyard. Our yard was narrow but very long with a lot of grass on the left and a raised deck that spanned the whole right side of the yard. For a short kid, you could easily crouch under and walk around under the deck, so it made for awesome hiding spots. I was at the very back of the yard and hiding next to the shed in the pitch dark. I had a little flashlight but this was my yard, so I knew every inch of it and was comfortable in the dark. I could hear the other kids on the side of the yard that was all grass but from where I was, I was looking directly at the underside of the deck that went around our above-ground pool. I heard a noise and looked over to see if anyone was coming from under the deck and I remember suddenly freezing in place. From under the deck, this thing came forward. It was all black, just this dense black shadow the size of a huge man, definitely not a kid and there was no way an adult could have crawled the whole length of the deck to the back of the yard with so little noise. It looked like it was made of smoke, and it moved weirdly like it was unfolding. I was terrified, all I could do was stare and hear my blood pounding in my ears. It stood up all the way and it looked massive, the only way I could describe it was like a silhouette of the Hulk, I swear to God. It stood for a moment then walked through the chainlink fence into my neighbor’s yard and blended into the trees. I started crying, ran for it, found my best friend Adam, and just wailed. He was so confused and just brought me inside to my mom. I was so scared to go outside for a few months after that and I never went back under the deck again. We moved from that house when I was 11 (I’m 28 now), but I can still clearly see that thing in my mind. I’ve seen other things a few times since but that was the first time and the scariest.
From Redditor /u/QueenoftheBunnies: I work in a house built in the 18th century (owned by a signer of the Declaration of Independence) and I’ve had plenty of encounters. Just yesterday as I was walking up to the second floor to turn out lights, I heard someone sigh really loud and could feel the breath on my shoulder. I’ve heard conversations occurring and foot steps while I’ve been the only one in the house. Doors that are completely shut will open by themselves. Thankfully, everything that I’ve experienced has been benign, but it’s still weird.
From Redditor /u/Artsy215: I’ve always believed, but living in my first one-bedroom apartment confirmed there is paranormal sh*t in this world that defies explanation. This is one of many events that took place there. My boyfriend (now husband) was sleeping beside me. My bare feet were sticking out of the blankets and something had a hold of my right foot just under my big toe. Not painfully, just gently holding on. I did not look down, I pulled the covers over my head. Freaked me all the hell out and lasted a good five minutes before whatever it was let go. I didn’t say anything to my boyfriend. Two nights later, it happened again. This time I was dead asleep and the feeling woke me up. Again, I freaked out, but I looked down to my feet and nothing was there. It was still gripping my foot, so I whispered ‘Hey, let go of that please?’ A few seconds later it let go. The next day I told my boyfriend, who kind of laughed it off. He said if it grabs my foot again, wake him up. So a week later when it got hold of my foot again, I woke him up. He looked down and shrugged because he didn’t see anything, but I could tell he was bugged out a little. A few days later he woke me up in the middle of the night shaking like a leaf. He whispered ‘Honey, it’s got my foot.’
From Redditor /u/AngelEyes4294: Someone (allegedly) killed themselves in our parking lot at work. Ever since they did some major reconstruction around five years ago, plenty of employees tell stories about odd or weird things happening to them. We also believe that the ghost only really messes with/picks on the girls (and the man who allegedly killed himself in the parking lot did so over a woman) and seems to really enjoy picking on me! Very few of the guys believe any of it because only one or two guys have experienced it. Personally I’ve had things fall right in front of me when they’re hanging up and that are heavy or difficult to move in the first place. We constantly hear footsteps and knocking, and sometimes when we’re cleaning our cleaning supplies get knocked over or broken when we aren’t near them. One night I finally proved it to my manager. As I closed, the door behind me kept popping open! It was terrifying, and my manager, who had a background in construction, could not find anything wrong with the hinges or closures. Furthermore, when you would touch the door it felt like someone pushing back. Little kids have come out asking about the man who was in there with them while they played, or asked me to tell the man to stop pushing them around. A little girl insisted you could see the man standing on the ramp, when no one was there that I could see. My work best friend and I finally decided to go into the room with the most activity (when it was dark – we work in black lights) and turned off all of the extra noises and things that could interfere. We recorded audio and in the first one, we silently walked through the room while recording and heard nothing. When you play it back, in the first three seconds it sounds like someone whispers ‘The camera.’ In another recording my co-worker asked if someone was in there to make a knocking noise. It was dead silent for almost 30 seconds and then a clear knock came through one of the walls. For the last recording we did, my co-worker and I stayed together and left her phone on the upstairs recording while we went downstairs with mine. She asked if it was the ghost of the man who killed himself, and there were loud noises from one side of the room, and we hauled ass, leaving her phone in the empty room recording. We left it there, and 20 minutes later retrieved it. We listened back to it and there were noises like footsteps, feet shuffling, knocking, and at one point it even sounds like something falling all during the time when nobody had been in the room.
From Redditor /u/anonymous_trash: My father’s father committed suicide in 1988. I never got to know him since I was born years later. There was a dream I had that I’ll never forget – me and my grandfather were hanging out getting to know one another. Talking, laughing, and I was so happy to see him. I woke up in tears and feeling like I was missing something. And the weird part is, I look just like him. Even down to the fact that we are both (or were both) left-handed. My whole life I’ve been longing for him and that relationship because I feel like I embody him and I feel like I’m living the life he wanted but never had. I felt like he is the best friend I never got to know. And I love him, even though we never ever met in real life. I feel him in me though, and from what my dad has told me about him (which wasn’t a lot) he would have been someone I relate to the most out of my entire (small) family.
From Redditor /u/dickfromaccounting: When I was younger, I had an ‘invisible friend’ that my family and people knew about named Tom. For some reason, from the ages between six and 10, I could just imagine what future events might be like for people I knew – my mom, dad, siblings. Pretty soon I could tell people exactly where they would be standing at the same time the next day. All of this occurred while I played with my friend Tom, who was always smarter and a step or two ahead of me. It’s hard to explain, looking back on those years now, but I know that there was something unnatural about what had been happening.
From Redditor /u/Alwin_: My downstairs neighbour passed away a year or two ago. Freaky detail is that he and my goldfish had the same name, Cor, a classic Dutch name. The morning I woke up to find Cor the Fish, floating belly up was the same day my neighbour Cor passed away. Cor had this decorative longsword on his wall. After his passing his wife moved out and put the sword in the trash, so I took it out and hang it on my wall. From then onward doors have been opening or closing and I hear footsteps at night. I would always say ‘Thanks Cor!’ if a opened door was closed, which always freaks out my friends and family. Anyway, weirdest thing is that Cor liked to turn on the tap in the bathroom sink. Really annoying, because I would hear the water, have to get out, turn the water off and go back to sleep. One night it happened twice. The second time I had to get out of bed I was kinda pissed at Cor and while walking to the bathroom I said: ‘Goddamnit Cor, I am cool with you messing with the doors, but this water sh*t is really annoying. Please cut it out or I’ma have to start charging you rent!’ Me talking in the middle of the night woke up my stoner roommate who asked what was up. I told him about Cor the Bro Ghost (Brhost) and he just looked at me and said that when he smoked weed and goes to sleep stoned he sleepwalks a lot and is probably the one leaving the tap open after getting a glass of water in the night.
From Redditor /u/aj0y: When I was about six or seven, I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of class. I went to a really old elementary school, and the bathrooms were in the corner of the basement, which was terrifying already as a small child. I walked into the bathroom and the first stall won’t open. I peaked under and there weren’t any feet, so I knew no one was in there. I went into one a few stalls down, went to the bathroom, and left the stall to wash my hands. When I was washing my hands, I heard the first stall door rattling behind me. I looked up in the mirror, and there was a really pale girl behind me (she was probably about nine or 10) all in white and she said softly ‘Help me.’ I turned around instantly; no one was there. I went over to the stall door and tried to push it open. It opened easily and a bracelet fell to the floor. I ran out of that bathroom and never went back in again.
From Redditor /u/AlastarHickey: Multiple reports of an elder female around the house. Serious skeptics were turned into believers. One night, we began discussing it around the kitchen table. My grandfather, who had been drinking all night, had a tumbler of vodka in front of him with some ice cubes in it. He has not filled it or taken a drink for a few minutes. When we begin speaking of Francis the ghost, he proclaims it all to be a bunch of bull – loudly. ‘There’s no ghost named Francis here!’ He didn’t quite yell, just said it with conviction. His glass shattered. Not broke, not cracked, shattered. As if it had been slammed down or something. That was the last weird occurrence and no sightings since. I’m convinced Francis was unaware of her purgatory-like state and his yell in her presence shook her from that fog, and she was able to move on.
From Redditor /u/DarthBotto: For as long as I can remember, I’ve had hypnagogic hallucinations. That being said, I can distinctly tell where they end and reality begin, so I have never truly been frightened or disturbed by them, as I know they’re merely hallucinations. A few years ago, my sister and I were spending the weekend my my uncle’s house in Idaho. While my sister slept in the living room, I slept in the guest bedroom. I woke up with my eyes still closed and I opened them, looking up at the ceiling. I looked towards the door beyond my feet and I saw a man in his 60s, with long gray hair and a bushy beard, dressed in plaid, overalls and a straw cowboy hat. He simply stood there with a hand on the door handle, staring at me sideways, wide-eyed and with a tight-lipped grin. Terrified like never before, I closed my eyes and hollered for my sister at the top of my lungs. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes and he was gone. I know when I have hypnagogic hallucinations. This was nothing of the sort.
From Redditor /u/takeru91: I was 12 and woke up in the middle of the night. My door, which was usually closed at night, was wide open and I could feel someone glaring at me. I looked up to see a tall man right outside my room looking towards me. He seemed really angry and would just keep staring. Although my dad was short, I just assumed it was him because he was the only other male in the house. I called out and asked him what was wrong. There was no response. It only took me a while to notice that something was seriously wrong, and I got so scared and hid under the covers praying the figure would go away. I was crying and shaking under my covers when I started to feel as if he wasn’t looking at me anymore. I looked out from my covers, and he was right in my face! Just kidding! The figure was nowhere to be found. So I ran out of bed, locked the door, and shoved my chair under the handle. I guess I fell asleep somehow after that terrifying incident because I woke up to my mom pounding the door screaming for me to open up. I was scolded for locking the door like that. Just to check I asked my dad why he was staring at me in the middle of the night. He had no idea what I was talking about. So I tried to chalk it up as either:
- My dad was sleepwalking, which he had never done in his life
- I was dreaming, and somehow locked the door and shoved the chair up in my sleep
- Someone else came into our house, but didn’t steal anything
Yet something just told me that it wasn’t any of the above and I had an encounter with a ghost.
From Redditor /u/animePlushie: I walked past my bedroom door once and the thing slammed shut. No AC was on and the doors and windows were closed, so it wasn’t wind. I’ve walked past it plenty of times and my momentum never closed it. I was only wearing socks so I’m pretty sure I’d know if I kicked it. Plus, it closed from the inside.
Up next – true stories of people being buried alive and living to tell about it, the truth behind the movie “The Foxcatcher”, and a story from a Weirdo family member! All of this and more when Weird Darkness returns!
In October Weird Darkness celebrates it’s 5th birthday – and while I normally use the entire month of October to raise funds for depression relief, this year I have something special planned. It’s called the Darkness Challenge. It doesn’t officially kick off until October 1st, but you can find out what it’s all about, how to get involved, and you can even participate by making your own #DarknessChallenge video so you’ll be ready to go when October arrives. Get all the details at DarknessChallenge.com. That’s DarknessChallenge.com.
I WAS BURIED ALIVE
Fair warning: even if you’re not claustrophobic or taphophobic what follows may have you squirming. Mistaken for dead, many people have been entombed prematurely, only to awaken to a horrifying reality. There are many tales of people being accidentally buried alive who are discovered all too late, but fortunately, a few did survive the horrifying ordeal and can now tell us their experience, of how they made it through and found themselves back in the world of the living – although in some cases, just barely.
19-year-old Angelo Hays was believed to have died in a motorcycle accident in 1937 in France. Hays was thrown from the bike into a brick wall, head first. After a suspicious insurance agent came to inquire about the policy Hays’s father had taken out on his son, the teenager was exhumed two days after his burial. He was still alive, having slipped into a coma. As his body required less oxygen in this state, Hays managed to survive the ordeal. After rehabilitation, Hays lived to tell the tale of his live burial. He became a celebrity throughout France, and also invented a security coffin complete with a radio transmitter, food locker, library, and chemical toilet, just in case anyone found themselves in his same predicament.
In 2015, Natalya Pasternak and a friend were walking in the woods of Siberia when they were attacked by a bear. She and her friend fought back, but the huge bear got the best of Pasternak, mauling her and knocking her unconscious. Her friend went for help and flagged down police. The bear, thinking she was dead, buried Pasternak with leaves and dirt. He apparently planned to eat her later. The bear was killed and Pasternak went through a long recovery. The attack gave her a new lease on life. She captioned a pic on social media, “How beautiful life is.”
British magician Antony Britton was hoping to pull off an amazing feat like the great Harry Houdini, but instead nearly died after being buried alive. Britton wore handcuffs and was buried under loose dirt, with the intent of freeing himself from the six-foot grave. Although he spent 14 months preparing for the stunt, Britton wasn’t prepared for the actual weight of the dirt, nor the fact that his arm would become trapped. As the time ticked by, his crew became alarmed and quickly unearthed the magician. “I almost died,” he said. “I was just seconds away from death. It was scary. The pressure of the soil was crushing around me. Even when I found an air pocket, when I exhaled the soil around me was crushing me even more. I could feel myself losing consciousness and there was nothing I could do about it. I was pretty much dying,” Britton said.
A woman was visiting the family plot in 2013 in a small town in Brazil when she saw a man clawing his way out of a grave. His head and hands were free but he was struggling to pull himself out. The woman brought rescue workers to free the man, who turned out to be an employee at city hall. The man has no memory of being buried alive, though authorities said he was badly beaten before being buried. The theory is, the man’s attackers, believing him to be dead, buried him in the cemetery to expose of his body.
In 1968, Mike Meaney set out to break the world record for entombment of 45 days, set by American Digger O’Dell. Meaney allowed himself to be buried in a coffin with holes for air, access to food and water, and a telephone. The barman talked to boxer Joe Louis while he was underground. After 61 days, Meaney emerged weakened but in good health otherwise, sporting sunglasses as the coffin lid was pulled away.
There were many sick and dying among the Irish during the potato famine of 1845-1852. Tom Guerin was mistaken for dead and was buried in a mass grave. There are varying reports of what actually happened to Guerin, but one account states that when the gravedigger hit his legs with a spade, the boy cried out. Although the boy survived, he was handicapped for life. Guerin struggled financially as an adult, but was a cheerful person and something of a poet. He even wrote a poem to the Irish government asking for new shoes.
A young woman, Philomele Jonetre, was taken ill with cholera in 1867. She was believed to have died, was given her last rites, and buried six hours later. As the gravediggers were finishing up, they heard faint knocking from inside. They quickly dug her up and could see that Jonetre was still alive. She stayed alive for a day, but passed away either due to her illness or the damage caused by being buried alive. Her ordeal inspired this poem.
To an outsider, John du Pont looked like he had it all. An heir to the du Pont chemical and automotive fortune, du Pont was a multimillionaire who busied himself by supporting his greatest passion, wrestling. Du Pont poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into the sport, donating to universities and even building a wrestling facility named Foxcatcher on his estate, where he coached Olympic hopefuls. The sports enthusiast had a life that most would envy: money to burn, a gorgeous home, and fervent admiration from people who appreciated his generosity. But on January 26, 1996, du Pont shocked the world when he murdered his friend and fellow wrestling coach, Dave Schultz, in cold blood.
At the time of his death, Dave Schultz had been living on the du Pont estate for about seven years. Du Pont had offered Dave an obscene amount of money and a place to live, rent-free, if he would help coach Team Foxcatcher, the wrestlers that trained at du Pont’s private facility. Dave and younger brother Mark were the only American brothers to win gold medals at both the World Championships and the Olympics, bringing a certain amount of prestige to du Pont’s team. Du Pont and Mark had also worked together, but they went their separate ways in 1988. Mark later claimed that he left because du Pont was unstable and controlling. But Dave couldn’t pass up such a lucrative offer, even if it was for a job that had so annoyed his younger brother. It was a decision that would ultimately bring about his untimely death and haunt his family for years to come.
Though du Pont initially bought the elder Schultz’s allegiance, the two actually became friends, making Dave’s later murder all the more shocking. On January 26, 1996, du Pont drove up to Dave’s house and parked in his driveway. With no idea of the fate that was in store for him, Dave approached the vehicle. Du Pont said, “Do you have a problem with me?” Then, he pulled a gun out and shot Dave three times at point-blank range. Dave’s wife and du Pont’s security guard were present and witnessed the crime, although there was nothing to be done to save Dave. Dave died in his wife’s arms at the scene, at the age of 36. He left behind two children.
John du Pont fled back to his mansion, where he barricaded himself in the home’s bomb shelter for two days. The estate was quickly surrounded by hundreds of police officers and SWAT team members. Du Pont refused to leave, despite several back-and-forth phone calls with authorities who tried to persuade him to give himself up. Finally, the standoff ended when police had the idea to turn John’s heating system off. Bothered by the cold, du Pont left the house to attempt to fix the boiler and was quickly captured by police.
Why would du Pont kill a friend for no apparent reason, in front of several witnesses? Authorities have never discovered a motive for Du Pont’s heinous act, making this crime truly mind-boggling. Many of the people in his life expressed shock at this sudden plunge into violence, including Joy Hansen Leutner, a triathlete who was close to du Pont. He had helped her get through a difficult period in her life, and her fiance had even asked du Pont, rather than Leutner’s father, for permission to pop the question. “With my family and friends, John gave me a new lease on life. He gave more than money; he gave himself emotionally…There’s no way John in his right mind would have killed Dave.”
In fact, the general consensus is that du Pont was not in his right mind, and was likely suffering from mental health issues that were never treated. Though his initial insanity defense was thrown out, in du Pont’s 1997 trial the jury found the killer guilty but mentally ill, sentencing him to 13 to 30 years of incarceration.
Hindsight is 20/20. Though no one suspected du Pont would be capable of murder, he did display erratic behavior for years before Dave Schultz’s murder. In fact, his lavish donations may have even prompted people to turn a blind eye to his deteriorating mental health, for fear that he would withdraw financial support. Glenn Goodman, a former wrestler at Foxcatcher, discussed his guilt over the matter and even went so far as to say, “I feel the whole wrestling community has prostituted ourselves.”
In the weeks and months leading up to the murder he committed, du Pont had placed infrared cameras in his house to detect ghosts and spoke of fears that the walls were moving, that Nazis were out to get him, and that he would travel back in time through the clock on his treadmill. Signs of du Pont’s instability may have gone back even farther. In 1983, he was married for just a few short months. In that time, his wife alleged that on different occasions he had expressed paranoia that she would be kidnapped, pointed a gun at her head, accused her of being a Russian spy, and tried to shove her in a fireplace.
The circumstances of John du Pont’s bizarre crime were portrayed in the critically acclaimed true crime drama film, Foxcatcher. Steve Carell, Channing Tatum, and Mark Ruffalo were lauded for their performances as John, Mark, and Dave, respectively. Directed by Bennett Miller, who also earned accolades for directing Capote and Moneyball, the film was nominated for five Oscars. While the movie is true to life in most ways, it does occasionally depart from real-life events. At one point, Mark Schultz slammed the film when he realized that some scenes could be interpreted as suggestions of a sexual relationship between him and du Pont, which he declared was utter fiction. However, he later recanted his criticism, calling Foxcatcher “a miracle.”
In 2010, du Pont died in prison at the age of 72. He had been incarcerated for nearly 14 years. Though Dave’s murderer was now dead, the Schultz family didn’t exactly rejoice. Philip Schultz, Dave’s father, said, “John du Pont died for me the day he took my son’s life. So the fact that he’s officially gone is almost a moot point. I did forgive the man for what he did. I never forgave the act.” Committed to his passion until the day he died, John du Pont was buried in his Team Foxcatcher wrestling singlet.
EL NAHUAL IN THE AVOCADO GROVE
This is actually a story my dad told me. It happened to him when he was a kid.
My dad lived in a small town in Mexico. He was nine years old at the time and because my grandfather was up here in Arizona, he had to get a job to help put food on the table. The year was 1957.
He was walking back home. The distance from the market he helped at and his house was approximately about 3 miles. He had to walk through an avocado grove and then cross a dirt road to get to his house.
It was late Fall and it got dark pretty early so when he was heading home at around 8pm it was already very dark. As he made his way through the grove, he started feeling pretty uneasy. It was like someone was watching him. He felt a bit better when he came to the half point of the avocado grove. It was marked with a post that was lit up with one light bulb. It was a dim light, but a light nonetheless. Once he walked past it, that feeling returned. He started whistling to get his mind off the fact that he was scared. A few minutes passed and he felt like something rubbed up on his leg. There was just enough light for him to be able to see it was a medium sized dog. At least that is what he thought.
When he came to the side of the dirt road, a car happened to be driving past. He looked down when what he thought was a dog this whole time let out a blood curdling screech and what he saw terrified him. This thing stood up on two legs, it was covered in black hair and it had red eyes.
My dad said he ran as fast as his skinny little legs could carry him. He told his mother all about it.
About a week after he experienced that, the local authorities were called to investigate the whereabouts of the avocado grove’s owner’s daughter. Her body was found right about where my dad said he walked past the light post. She was clutching a rosary and they determined she had died of a fright induced heart attack.
Apparently, this thing sounds like what the indigenous people of Mexico call ” el nahual” . It is a dark entity. A shapeshifter that usually appears in the form of a dog.
SHOW CLOSE, CREDITS, A LITTLE LIGHT, AND A FINAL THOUGHT==========
Thanks for listening. If you like the podcast, please – tell someone about it. Recommend Weird Darkness to your friends, family, and co-workers who love the paranormal, horror stories, or true crime like you do! Every time you share the podcast with someone new, it helps spread the word about the show – and a growing audience makes it possible for me to keep doing the podcast. Plus, telling others about Weird Darkness also helps get the word out about resources that are available for those who suffer from depression. So please share the podcast with someone today.
Be sure to join me for a new episode every Sunday at my other podcast, “The Church of the Undead”, also found at WeirdDarkness.com. Do you have a dark tale to tell of your own? Fact or fiction, click on “Tell Your Story” on the website and I might use it in a future episode.
All stories in Weird Darkness are purported to be true (unless stated otherwise), and you can find source links or links to the authors in the show notes.
“How I Came To Believe” by Mick Jacobs
“I Was Buried Alive” by Lisa Waugh
The Real Story Behind The Movie Foxcatcher” by MacKenzie Stuart
“El Nahual In The Avocado Grove” submitted anonymously by a Weirdo family member
Weird Darkness theme by Alibi Music.
WeirdDarkness™ – is a registered trademark. Copyright ©Weird Darkness 2020.
If you’d like a transcript of this episode, you can find a link in the show notes.
Now that we’re coming out of the dark, I’ll leave you with a little light… “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?” –Mark 8:36
And a final thought… “Don’t worry about failures, worry about the chances you miss when you don’t even try.” – Jack Canfield
I’m Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness.