“REDDIT HORRORS” #WeirdDarkness

“REDDIT HORRORS” #WeirdDarkness

Listen to ““REDDIT HORRORS” #WeirdDarkness” on Spreaker.

IN THIS EPISODE: Redditors tell us about some of their most unforgettable and creepy moments.

“Creepy True Occurrences From Redditors” posted at Factinate.com: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/h9zz8vka
Weird Darkness theme by Alibi Music Library.

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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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Originally aired: November, 2021


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***From DontDreamItBeIt: I worked with a lady once who was pretty old—I’d say about 70 years old. Since our job was pretty boring, we talked a lot and she had all kinds of crazy stories. But this one creeps me out still. She said when her grandma passed, they had her buried in a wood box in the backyard, as was pretty customary in those days. Well, years later they have a family plot in a cemetery and decide to dig her grandma up to move her to the family plot. She paused at this point. Then she said when they took the lid off the coffin, their eyes went wide. It had claw marks all over the inside. The grandma had apparently been buried alive.


Welcome, Weirdos – I’m Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you’ll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained.

Coming up in this episode…

Redditors tell us about some of their most unforgettable and creepy moments.

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Now.. bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness!



***From bondmabonrock: I was once in a hot tub with some friends late at night, and we were all telling some stories. One of the guys told us this one, a story of a girl he knows—the people he was with verified it was true. So one day, this girl was called over to babysit. She did it a lot for these people, so it was routine for her. Anyways, she was told to put the kids to bed at 9, and she did. After she put them to bed, she started watching TV and doing homework, waiting for the parents to come home. But then, she started hearing some noises coming out of the basement, like pans falling and stuff. She just ignored it, and thought it was the washing machine or something. Anyways, a little later, she starts hearing the noises again. She decides to call the authorities. The lady at the station told her there’s a patroller in her area, and that he’ll be at the house in about 20 minutes. Anyways, in about five minutes, she hears a knock on the door. She answers, and it’s a full SWAT team. She asked, “I thought they were just sending a patroller…” One of the guys told her, “After you hung up the phone, we heard a second phone on the line hang up.” Apparently, there was a man in the basement listening to the conversation. The lady in the station waited and heard him hang up, then immediately sent the SWAT team to help. They went downstairs and caught him; he was wanted for multiple cases of assault.

***From MultipleColoredChloe: Once, my father went camping at a non-commercial campground, which is usually more secluded, with no camp manager or outhouses. It was during early spring so it was still pretty cold out, and there wouldn’t be many people out there camping. There was only my dad, a few of his buddies, and a rough-looking old Chevy with a makeshift, Frankenstein-esque camper mounted on it just a few sites down.

Being sociable and considerate campers, my dad and a couple of other guys went to say hi to their neighbor and let them know to holler if they were being too loud while they were there for the weekend. The guy they met was a seemingly nice man who was minding his own business and politely thanked them for introducing themselves.

He looked like he’d been out there for a few weeks, with a clothesline up and everything. During my father’s three-night stay, the group would wave at their neighbor occasionally and invited him over for coffee in the morning once. After they didn’t hear or see him for a couple of days, they didn’t think much and ended up finishing their stay.

On the way out of the campground, they passed his camp, which was still set up the way it was when they went to say hello. My dad was driving his truck toward the exit with a friend in it, who shouted at him to stop because he thought he saw something. My dad saw it as well from the corner of his eye while driving, but assumed his mind was playing tricks on him. What they had just seen was haunting.

He really did see the guy hanging from the tree and not just a plastic bag. They got out and dialed 9-1-1 their spotty reception. The scene was pretty horrific. My dad recalls a note stuck to the tree with a buck knife. He was too sickened to read it, but he felt bad for the guy and always says how badly he wanted to cut him down from the tree, although he obviously couldn’t save him because he had been long gone.

Officer and the ambulance showed up. The group got a “thank you” and were sent on their way after getting some information about the situation. The creepiest part of this story, though, was the fact that it occurred at my dad’s favorite campsite, which we were staying at when he told us. He waited until we weren’t kids anymore to say anything about it, but it still gets to me.

***From ThisNameIsSooClever: When my mom was young, she and her mother lived in a trailer in the backyard of a family member’s house. My mom was about 12 at the time, and the man in the neighboring house started to stare at her from time to time. She got a creepy vibe from him but figured her was just a harmless lonely guy. She soon found out how wrong she was.

One night when my mom was alone, she heard something on the roof of their trailer, then she heard what sounded like footsteps slowly walking along the metal rooftop. Given they were dirt poor at the time, they did not have a phone so she eventually ran out of the trailer and into the house without looking on the roof. When her uncle went outside to investigate, nothing was on the roof.

A few weeks went by with no incidents and my mom figured she must have been overly scared of nothing. More weird stuff would randomly happen, but only when she was alone, and it was always spaced out by a week or two. If I remember correctly, this occurred over maybe a couple of months…before it stopped completely.

Months go by without any weird instances at all—until one fateful night happens. My mom wakes up to find the trailer is unbelievably hot, like she could feel the heater on full blast. She got out of bed and was about to go to the control for the trailer’s heater but she was overcome with a bad feeling and decided to just go into her uncle’s nearby house.

The uncle went out to the trailer again and this time noticed that the lock on the door was broken or messed with. He looked inside quickly but didn’t see anything. His wife made him call the authorities and when they came out, they searched the trailer and made a horrific discovery. They found one of the kitchen knives behind a chair next to the heating controller.

They suspected that the neighbor went into the trailer, turned the heat up, and crouched behind the chair waiting for my mom to come by and then…who knows. It’s been a long time since I heard the story but from what I remember, the officers questioned the neighbor but really couldn’t do anything about it. Luckily, my mom and grandmother were able to move out of that town right after that.

My mom told me that about five or something years later she was visiting her other family who lived in a nearby town and she saw the neighbor at the grocery store. She bolted out before he saw her.


When Weird Darkness returns I’ll have more creepy true stories from Redditors!



***From another Redditor: I was in Taiwan one year when I was younger, and had traveled to a busy night market. Nearby I spotted a sign for a netcafe in a 5-6 storey building. Thinking I’d fire off some quick emails, I walked in the dark, small entrance of the building. The building was older and hadn’t been well maintained, but that’s not out of the ordinary in Taiwan.

The entrance just had a dark hallway that led to a small elevator. I pressed the elevator call button and entered. The elevator was uncharacteristically new compared to the building, but I didn’t think much of it. Like some Chinese/Taiwanese buildings, there wasn’t a fourth floor (it’s considered bad luck), so it just read 1-2-3-5-6, which was usual.

I looked for the floor the netcafe was at– 6th floor—and pressed the button. It lurched into action quietly and began the ascent. When it stopped, I figured it was my floor, so I instinctively began to step out. Right before stepping out, however, the sight outside the elevator stopped me. It was pitch dark, only lit by the light in the elevator, and it looked like it hadn’t been occupied for decades, with some random pieces of furniture covered with white cloth.

It was a small building, so each floor was single occupancy, and I could see pretty much the entire floor from the elevator. Thinking I must have gotten the wrong floor, I checked the light that indicates which floor you’re on. Strangely, there was nothing. None of the indicators were on, but the floor button to the netcafe was still lit so I knew I hadn’t gotten there yet.

All this happened within a couple of seconds. That’s when I noticed a figure moving in the distance on the floor. It was not very visible, but I could make out what looked like a person dressed in some kind of gown, moving slowly towards the elevator where I was. I was thoroughly creeped out, so I started pressing the close door button frantically.

As soon as I pressed it, the elevator light flickered off, and I was in pitch dark. I am this close to peeing my pants, and it’s actually kind of freaking me out thinking back to it now. The lights flickered back on under a second and the door closed, and the elevator jolted back to life. A few moments later, it opened again to the netcafe.

I am beyond relieved at this point. I walked out immediately and sat down at a computer. After gathering my wits a bit, I walked over to the cashier’s desk and told them what I saw. The girl working there listened and her face turned a bit ashen. I asked her if she’d heard of a similar story. She told me that she’s never experienced it, but some co-workers and occasional customers have brought it up.

Basically, the building has six floors, and the fourth floor had a history. Apparently the floor used to be a hair salon of sorts, until one of the employees completed suicide there for some reason. The store continued operations despite stories of weird appearances—when customers got their hair rinsed the water would look a little red, like the customer was bleeding.

A couple people reported seeing someone’s figure walking away in the mirror, but wouldn’t see anyone when they turned to check. Naturally, the business closed down a few months after that. The building owner tried to re-rent the place out, but never had any luck. Most businesses are quite superstitious, and no one wanted to rent the fourth floor after someone had perished in it, even at a very cheap price.

Finally, after dropping the price to nearly nothing, a stationary supplies store wanted to rent. During the renovations of the floor, however, several accidents would happen. Tools would end up in strange places, a mirror from the previous business shattered when no one was near it, and finally a worker had his hand jammed between the elevator doors when it closed on him unexpectedly.

The workers refused to continue working and finally, the business left and the building owner finally gave up and shut down that floor. He then had the elevator company come in to replace the panel so that the elevator could not go to the fourth floor. Let me repeat that—the elevator was programmed to never go to the fourth floor. It doesn’t even have a button.

But for some reason, sometimes when people take the elevator, it would go to the fourth floor and the doors would open, and some, like myself, would see a figure walking around in the dark.

***From MorgueAnna: One night, there was an altercation in the middle of our street at 2 in the morning that woke our whole house up. My stepfather and my uncle were still up drinking and went outside to see what was going on. There was a young man kicking the heck out of one of our older neighbors. We found out afterward the young man was dating the older man’s daughter.

My stepfather and uncle went out to break it up and in the commotion, the guy plunged the weapon right into my stepfather. He stumbled back on to the porch and fell, and I tried to catch him. His blood smeared down the front of my shirt, and the younger guy took off and we called 9-1-1. This is where it got truly chilling.

We were in the hospital until the early morning. When my mom and I got home there was a message on our answering machine. It was a friend of mine from school, crying and apologizing for calling in the middle of the night, but she had just had a dream that there was screaming and a fight, and I was covered in blood. She begged me to call her back.

The time stamp on the message was the same time as the fight. This is in the late 80s, before computers and even cell phones really. I lived on the other side of town from her. There was no way she could have known what had happened.

***From MojabeSpider25: Just a few months ago, while I was still in school, I rented an old house with two of my friends. I lived in the basement and they each had a room upstairs. Several strange things happened to me while I was living in that basement. The first was that I had just gotten a dog and he was about four months old at the time. Now and then, right when I turned the TV off to go to sleep, my dog would start whining and growling at one corner of my room.

He would usually not get on my bed because he wasn’t allowed, but during these times, he would jump on my bed and get as close to me as he could, all without his eyes ever leaving that corner. This happened about five times over the course of four months. Then, toward the end of the school year, when I was about to move out, the scariest thing that has ever happened to me in my life occurred.

Under our stairs was a little door that led to a small space that had a dirt floor. There was also a really weird, old wooden piece of what looks like a map nailed to the inside of the door, so it’s a pretty spooky place. Up until the day before this incident, we had kept a small chair in front of this door that I laid my coats and things on, but we had some friends over the night before, so we brought that chair upstairs.

It was dark (probably 8 pm) and I had just been upstairs in the kitchen. I had just gotten off the stairs and was about to open the door to my room, when the door to the little closet under the stairs opened so slowly and with THE loudest creak I’ve ever heard in my life. I stood rooted to the spot, frozen in fear, staring at the closet, waiting for whatever was about to come out of it to show itself.

I literally stood there for about five minutes, absolutely terrified. Eventually, I opened the door to my room and locked it as fast as I could. I wasn’t sure either of my roommates was home, so I called my female roommate and she was there. I spent the rest of that night upstairs with her, still too scared to go back downstairs. I do not scare easily.

Now I know many of you will probably say it was the wind or the fact that I had just come down the stairs or something just as my roommates did, but I’ve had those things happen to me before and been kind of creeped out, but this was different. The second I heard that closet open and looked over to see it opening so slowly, I felt this sheer terror.

It honestly felt like there was someone or something else in the room with me that wanted me to see that door open.

***From ShawtyTina: So when I was about seven, maybe younger, I went to my mom’s best friend’s house with my mom in another city. It was just me, my mom, and her friend. Nobody else in the house. Except, when I was there, I saw a family which consisted of a mother, a teenage boy, and two younger girls who looked really burnt just walking around the house together without taking their eyes off me.

At one point, they even told me to go with them. I didn’t think anything of it at that point because I assumed they were house guests. But many years later when I told my mom, she mentioned it to her best friend. Her best friend told her they actually had to move out of that house because they had had many haunting experiences, such as finding all her new baby’s toys out in the middle of the night after she tidied it, things moved around, and blankets and pillows on the floor as if people slept there.

She asked her husband thinking maybe he did it, but he was just as scared as her.

***From AI0: My grandmother told me a story that creeps her out still. Back when my grandfather was alive, my grandmother woke up one night to hear something smash downstairs. She woke my grandfather up and made him go check it out with a baseball bat, and when he got downstairs there was a broken flower pot in the middle of their family room floor, about 20 feet from where it usually was.

There was no dirt trail; it was just smashed on the floor in the middle of the room, as if someone dropped it straight down.

***From MilkChugg: This happened to my friend’s dad. This guy isn’t the type to make stuff up, so I believe him 100%. My friend’s dad, Jack, and his brother Tom lived with each other in the 80s. It was just the two of them living in the house, no one else. So, this one night Jack is coming home at night and walks into his living room to see a bunch of old people sitting around talking.

As he walks in, they all just quiet down and awkwardly look at him as he walks by. He doesn’t see Tom anywhere, so he just assumes Tom will be back to tend to his strange guests. Jack has work the next morning, so he goes in his room to get some sleep, but is kept up from all the people talking. He walks out from his room and is promptly met with Tom, who is coming out of his room to tell Jack to keep his friends quiet.

However, Jack was coming out to tell Tom to keep HIS friends quiet. They walk out from the hallway into the living room…only to see that it’s empty with the leftover smell of musk.

***From SooMuchCoffee: Oh man, this happened in my junior year of college. Not my proudest moment. Me and maybe half a dozen friends are hanging out on Saturday night and we are just crispy baked. Then there was a knock at the door. Serious knocking. Panicked knocking. What do we do? Gotta be officers, and we are so screwed. Like, I’m getting kicked out of housing this time.

So one of the girls goes to answer the door. A guy with insane Ted Kaczynski hair and no pants is SCREAMING at the door to let him in. The girl screams and tries to shut the door, but the guy is forcing his way in. He is bleeding pretty bad, and is suddenly basically draped over my friend in a heap. He is totally incoherent, just keeps yelling PLEASE and making no sense otherwise.

My friend runs down to help the girl. I could muster precisely zero courage. I was terrified. I stood at the top of the stairs like a housewife who had seen a mouse in an old cartoon. WHAT DO WE DO, WHAT DO WE DO!? OH GOD WHAT DO WE DO!? We have to call the authorities! Right? I CANT DO IT I’M FREAKING OUT MAN. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY HANDS! Someone finally calls and tells the authorities an old, possibly homeless man is trying to force his way into the apartment.

I remain totally panicking at the top of the steps, helping in no way whatsoever. My friend has now wrestled the guy out of the apartment and is trying to calm him down. Eventually, officers come and they take the disheveled, pantsless homeless man away in an ambulance. We close the door and sit back down in the living room. “Is anyone else not baked at all anymore?” someone asked.

We were not. We’d go over the series of events a hundred times over the next few weeks. I tried to downplay my role as the guardian of the stairwell. Like a week later, though, we’d find out it was neither an old guy nor a homeless guy, but rather a friend of a friend on a really bad acid trip who had lost his pants and ran through a field in a panic.

***Fromm Deuce_Bumps: I have to preface this by stating that I am a guy. I used to run quite a bit—five miles every day without fail. One day after finishing my run, I got a knock at the door and it was a young man about my age, like 27, asking about the duplex next door, as it was for rent. Typical questions about the neighborhood and the street and whatnot.

I was cordial and informative, but I had some food cooking and needed to get back inside. I told him to call the number on the sign, but before I could excuse myself inside he interjected. The conversation went something like this: Him: Wait…do I smell pot? Dude, do you have weed in there? Me: No, I’m cooking salmon. Him: Oh, cause if you were, I’d be totally down with that. By the way, you’ve got really nice pecs. Do you work out a lot?

Me: Yeah, I guess…look, I really gotta go. If you have questions about the duplex, call the number on the sign. Him: Cool, thanks. I go back inside the house and he drives off. I instantly call my landlord and tell her to under no circumstances let that guy rent the property, because he gave me the creeps. Well, fast forward two days.

It’s a Sunday night around midnight. I’d just finished watching a movie on the couch and I had played a lot of soccer that weekend. Generally, I’ve found that if I can soak in a hot bath for about 20 minutes, my knees feel better in the morning. So I get up from the couch, walk by my bedroom, and notice that, since I’m kind of a restless sleeper, I must have knocked the blinds and curtains adjacent to my bed askew.

No biggie, I’ll fix it tonight before I go to bed. Then I get into the bathroom and notice that someone must have opened the window to the bathroom when I had friends over several days ago. I don’t have a bathroom exhaust fan, so it only makes sense to raise the window and blinds a bit. I close the window and shut the blinds.

I’ve got one of those nifty kitchen timers that I set to 20 minutes and I just sit in the bath, waiting for the time to expire. During this quiet time, my mind starts replaying the weekend’s events, and I start to get an uneasy feeling. Subconsciously, I felt something was wrong, but maybe I was just being paranoid. Then I thought about the bedroom window and the bathroom window both having blinds askew.

And come to think of it, I believe the blinds behind the TV had one little slat that was sort of peeled up, too. But, no, now I’m really just being paranoid. And I hadn’t even thought about the weird encounter from two days ago. But now, I’m sitting in a bathtub and the darn timer seems frozen at this point. I tell myself that I’ll get up when the timer is done, put on some clothes and take a look around the house. Well, I snapped.

Five minutes left and I couldn’t take it any longer. I don’t know how to rationalize what I did next. It just seemed purely instinctual. I hopped up and got a towel around me. I turned off the bathroom light, made my way quickly through the bedroom door and then the living room area. I then cut the kitchen and living room lights. In the darkness, I pulled a pair of pants up so that I was at least wearing something.

I wasn’t going to go back into the bedroom for a shirt. The only light on in the house was my bedroom light. I went over to the front door and flung it open quickly to peer out. Nothing. Crickets. This was the middle of the summer, and the crickets were overwhelmingly loud. Louder than the sound of my squeaky storm door opening.

I decided I was definitely being paranoid, and turned to go back in. I turned, but at the last second I had that thought: I won’t be content to sleep tonight unless I properly dismiss the paranoia with a walk around the house. So I barefootedly and cautiously make my way down the front porch stairs, and down the sidewalk to the side of my house where the bedroom windows glow.

The front of the house is definitely clear. I then tiptoe to the corner of the house to get a view of the side of the house. As I peer around the corner, not 20 feet away from me, I see the stranger from two days ago, his face glued to the bedroom window. His hand is in his shorts. I’m instantly enraged. Apparently, he is completely unaware that I have exited the house, much less flanked him.

I decided in that instant to surprise him. The following conversation was a mix between my anger, his fear, and most strangely of all, the feeling of amusement that this is actually happening to me. Keep in mind, the conversation doesn’t really make a lot of sense because the guy didn’t really have time to think. It really couldn’t have been more than about 15-20 seconds before the ordeal was played out.

Me: YOU SICKO! Him: (Surprised and mortified) AHHH!! Me: I’m going to catch you and beat the heck out of you. Him: You don’t know me!?!? (backing away) Me: (Aggressively approaching) I know exactly who you are, and I’m going to catch you. Him: (Transitioning from backing away to turning away and starting to run) Please don’t hurt me. I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t hurt me!

At this point, it’s an all-out chase across a neighbor’s yard. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of warm-up pants, but I’m gaining on him. I was playing soccer daily at the time, so I was definitely going to catch him. But he made it easy. I chased him across one gravel driveway, which wasn’t fun, but I was on his heels by the time he reached the second one, and he took a nasty fall right into the middle of the gravel.

I very nearly kicked him across the face with my shin, but I suppressed the urge. I tell him to get up. At this point he knows he is caught, so he is completely compliant…well, kind of. I ask him where he parked, and he lied and said a few blocks down. I ask his name, and he gives me one. I take his keys from him and tell him we’re going to his car. We walk about 30 feet and he stops and says, “Actually, this is my car.”

Wow, ok, so you parked basically right next to my house. So, I open his car and he’s like, “What are you doing?” I explain to him that there’s no way for me to know who he is, since he has no wallet with him. I open his glove box hoping to find some real ID. Bingo. I found a receipt for tire rotation or something. The car shown on the receipt matches the car he’s driving. But the name doesn’t.

I call him by the name on the receipt and he starts crying again and apologizing about lying about his name. I’m convinced I have him scared, and now I just want to go to bed. I know the authorities will take hours and it’s already like 1:00 and I’ve gotta be up early. So, I take the little folder thing the receipt came in and I told him to write down a confession of what he did.

It was only just becoming apparent to me that not only was he a peeping tom, he had come into my house when I wasn’t there to adjust the blinds in order to see in. Now I’ve got a written and signed confession. I write his license plate down and then I decide to make sure I never have to see this guy again. I take his phone and write down numbers of obvious relatives: Mom, Dad, etc.

Just a few. And then I tell him “I never want to see you again.” I made it clear for him that if he saw me somewhere, he’d better make sure I don’t see him. Anyway, at this point he’s sitting in his car. I toss the keys and his cell phone into his car and tell him to get lost. He sits in the car sobbing for a while as I’m walking away, but he’s got the engine started and leaving by the time I’m back in my house.

At this point, I sit down and pour a drink. And then I decide I wished I had called the authorities because I’m not getting any sleep, so I call the officer to show them the confession and all the information. The officer who shows up writes a few things down and tells me I should have detained him. Two days later, I call them and ask them about a report.

No news, and no news would come. No report. Oh well, he’s never coming back. Wrong! He knocks on my door about a year later. I open the door, and he must have seen the anger. He backs away from the door with his hands up and says he came to apologize. He said he was very sorry. I told him I accepted his apology and to not screw up like that again. And then he said thanks and walked away. Very strange.


More freaky, spooky true stories from Redditors when Weird Darkness returns!



***From Omegatron88: I lived in the Hollywood Hills, and this happened in the early 80s. One night, I heard crazy knocking at my door at 9 pm. I go to answer the door and there’s a lady there just beside herself, talking about “There’s so much blood…” She looks normal and is dressed in clean clothing, so we let her in. She tells a story about seeing someone get hurt.

I call the authorities and two uniformed LAPD officers arrive in 10 minutes. They take the lady away, and tell us that she was reported missing, has a mental condition, and lives up the street. All good. 30 minutes later, another knock at the door. Two different officers this time, responding to the call. They have no idea who the other two officers were!

They take our information and statements, our description of the officers, and the lady as well. Radio conversations back and forth ensue, and they really don’t have any idea how any other officers could have picked her up, because they were given the call 40 minutes ago. Still no idea what happened to this day.

***From ShinyDragonite: I supervise the night crew at a Subway. The day crew has never mentioned it, but the night crew always make jokes about our “SubGhost,” although I’ve stopped being sure that it’s actually a joke. Now hear me out. I’m not saying the Subway I work at is haunted…but I’m not saying it’s not haunted, either. It’s open 24/7, so past midnight just one person stays by themselves until day crew rolls in around 6 am.

I always spend at least an hour a night alone, and quite a while with just one other person. Sometimes we hear voices. The music is off, there’s only one or two of us, but we can hear people having a conversation, although it’s too quiet to pick out words. The first time I heard voices I looked at my supervisor and asked if she heard them too, and she looks me in the eyes and casually says, “Yeah, it’s the SubGhosts talking.”

It sounds like a joke, but now I realize when I’m training a newbie on the late shift I’ve given the casual “It’s just the SubGhost” response more times than I can remember. There are voices, there are weird crashing noises, and sometimes when no one is in the room things fall off the counters for no discernible reason. Once our owner bought new paper towel auto-dispensers to replace the old push dispensers.

I was alone right before the graveyard guy came in when I heard a towel dispense. I walked around the corner and everything was quiet. I was about to walk away when another towel came out. Then another. Then another. Finally it goes full SubGhost and dispenses the entire roll continuously without stopping, much like when a cat finds out how to unroll your toilet paper.

It only stopped when there was no paper left. No one else was around, but a few days later the owner switched them back, so we now have the manual paper towels back. If there is a SubGhost, I don’t really mind. Stupid day crew is oblivious, but us night crew tend to become quite familiar with the sandwich spook, and its presence is so constant that the voices have almost become comforting.

***From another Redditor: This happened to my friend. She told me that when she was little, she was playing with her little brother and sister one night. Her little brother looked out the window and said, “Who is that man?” They all went to the window to see what he was talking about. She said there was a white figure sitting on top of the telephone pole, and it looked like a man.

He was staring at them with a huge creepy smile. Then he just stood up and jumped off the pole and simply vanished before they saw him hit the ground. She said it scared them so much, her sister won’t even talk about it.

***From a since deleted Redditor: My creepiest thing will forever be the man who watched me at my window. It’s nothing paranormal, but honestly. I was texting my girlfriend, playing a game, and I heard rustling outside my window—keep in mind I live in the basement as an “apartment” at my mom’s house. I don’t have any curtains, and I turned off my iPod.

I could see someone actually staring at me. This went on for about 10 minutes. I texted my little sister to get the bat and turn on the lights upstairs. After he saw the lights, he ran off. I have never been more creeped out…except for the recent occurrence. I thought I imagined the “FWOOSH” and “PLOP” sound in the middle of the night, but I brushed it off. The next morning, my stepdad was cleaning the yard and found the A/C cover in the other window well.

I went upstairs to get ready to wash my mom’s car when they told me. They asked me if I heard anything, and I told them about the strange sounds I heard. I now keep a knife and an aluminum bat with me. We called the authorities the first time it happened, and they said they couldn’t do anything. Short of breaking into the house, we’re stuck dealing with this person (or people) until they do break in.

***From an unnamed Redditor: I delivered newspapers in a fairly rural area the summer after I graduated high school. One night, it’s pouring rain and I’m driving down this dirt road that is a cul-de-sac to a farmer’s house. I’ve been down this road a few dozen times and know the routine—drop the paper off in the box at the end of the drive, turn around, and go back up the road and off to my next stop.

This time, as I am getting out of my car to place the newspaper in the holder, I see this man in the ditch wearing a drenched white shirt and running at me as fast as he can. He got within 20 feet of me, and I could see what my mind pictured as a hatchet or axe in his hand. I had never ran so hard in my life to the front of my car, jumped in, and took off.

Everything happened so fast that I almost didn’t realize where I was. It must have been about 5-10 miles later that I attempted to call 9-1-1, but there was no signal using my Motorola flip phone in the middle of nowhere in the year 2000. I had to stop at a farmer’s house to call the authorities at 2:00 am. Turns out the guy took his own life within an hour of his run with me in that wooded ditch.

***Another anonymous entry: This whole thing still freaks me out. I was waiting at the bus stop around two years ago, and just start chatting with this lady who was waiting for a different bus. It was just a normal conversation, but there was an odd undertone that I could just barely make out, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I don’t know what it was. but I know it was there.

Finally my bus comes, I get on, and I am the only one there. All of a sudden I hear “Hey!” I glance up and there’s a little girl who says “Remember me?” She reminded me strangely of the woman I was speaking with at the bus stop, but younger. You could cut the tension with a knife, and when I got off I swear she watched me as the bus left.

I’m certain that I was the only one on the bus when I got on.

***From BanginChoonz: When I lived in South Africa, I traveled a lot with a Christian missionary and humanitarian aid worker named Piet. He handled the spiritual stuff, while I tended to work more with the local (mostly Xhosa) people, helping them with non-spiritual issues. In July 2010, we went to a village in the middle of nowhere. As soon as we stepped out of the truck, we knew something was wrong.

We hadn’t been able to contact our guy in the village all day, and there was no one around at all. Piet and I went from house to house, looking for, well, anyone, but everywhere was completely empty. Eventually, we saw a figure run around the corner of a building on the far side of the village. It was a young woman, stark naked, running straight for us.

Her arms were flailing, and she was running like an animal, occasionally dropping to all fours, then back on her feet. As she got closer, Piet told me to get back in the truck, then he screamed at me to get in the truck. I’d seen this guy watch a Xhosa witchdoctor burn a dozen chickens alive and not bat an eyelid, so when he lost his cool, I knew it was serious.

I closed the truck door as she reached us. She was covered in blood; there were cuts and slices all over her face, arms, and breasts. One of her ears was missing—I think, there was a lot of blood—her teeth were bloody, and she had a look in her eye of absolute, untamed rage. The screeching sound she made is unlike anything I’ve heard before or since.

I can still hear it so vividly in my mind. Looking into her face, seeing her wide psychotic eyes and gaping mouth as she made that unholy sound froze me in my seat. Piet had started the truck, and already started reversing up the dirt track, but she followed. He turned the car, and all the while she was scratching at the windows and metalwork.

Then he sped off up the track. She followed us still. She didn’t keep up, obviously, but for a while I thought she was going to. I’ve never seen someone run that fast in bare feet. The journey back to our base town was almost silent. I spent most of it concentrating on the sound of my own breathing, and the rumble of the road. I asked Piet what that was, and what we should do.

He said the girl was no doubt insane, had a psychotic break or something, but the locals would have immediately thought her possessed. If she didn’t kill herself, the other villagers would within days. He suggested that they had gathered in one house for safety. This happened in the Eastern Cape, which I would argue is the darkest, wildest, and most bizarre part of the country.

Strange things happen there a lot, and often just get buried or only picked up by one of the crazy tabloids like the Mercury, and subsequently ignored or written off. There are vast swathes of grassland punctuated by the odd settlement, without any adequate law enforcement. A lot of people live in these isolated settlements, and will only leave to work or to get food.

Many spend their whole lives in the village of their ancestors, as do their children, and so on. We did call the authorities, and the officer said “we will look into it.” We never heard about it again. South Africa has some very developed areas (the major towns and cities, for example) but there are enormous parts of this country that have remained almost untouched for decades.

The further you go from Johannesburg or Cape Town, the more rural and strange things can become. I’m not saying that all of rural South Africa is like this. A lot of the villages we went to were nice, simple settlements where the people welcomed us, gave us food, gaped at us for being white, and so on. Some were more sinister.

We eventually got in touch with the guy we were originally trying to see a day later. Piet asked him if everything was all right, and he said “We had a bad presence in the village. It is now gone.” I don’t know for sure what happened, but I can guess, based on what Piet said. Piet’s been back once since to that place, without me, and they seemed fine.

He told me he didn’t ask about the girl, as he didn’t know what had happened, and he didn’t want them to react. I don’t think he wanted to know.

***From Polite_Werewolf: My grandfather passed in 2008. He was a big fan of opera music and would blare it in the morning if he and my grandmother ever had any grandkids sleeping over. It was a good wake-up alarm. About a week or two after his funeral, I was lying on my bed when I began to hear a scraping noise. I looked in the direction the sound came from to see a clock radio on the top shelf of my desk turn to face me, sliding across the desk in my direction, and it started playing all by itself.

The music it was playing was opera music.

***From Stardust7: My best friend and I were having a sleepover at her house. We were teenagers, and for some reason we were home alone. We’re goofing off upstairs when suddenly we hear a crash downstairs. We of course freak out for maybe 30 minutes before we get the nerve to go check it out. I grab a bat and we slowly creep down the steps.

In the kitchen, we find a glass bowl had fallen and broke, but the really creepy part is that all the pieces had been picked up and put in another bowl on the table. We still have no idea how that happened.

***From KYguy3000: A few years ago when my grandpa was really sick, my family and I were around his bed all saying our last words to him. We were all crying and saying goodbye. A little later, his breaths were getting less and less frequent and we knew he was about to go. But on his last breath, his eyes opened up really wide he smiled, looking the happiest he had in years, and then he was just gone.

To this day I still can’t imagine what he felt or saw.

***From Cupcake1964: My boyfriend works the night shift, and I was asleep alone in the house. Suddenly, I got woken up in the middle of the night by my puppy whining in the living room. I assumed it’s because he wants outside. I’m just about to open the back door when I hear this weird scratching or clicking sound at the front door, like someone was sticking something in the lock.

I go to check, and I can see the silhouette of somebody standing there through the window in the door. I then notice there is a second figure in the living room window, although it’s too dark to make out any features. I know they can see me because I didn’t have any blinds at this point, and they just stood there. I totally freaked and called the authorities, then my dad.

I huddled in the kitchen out of sight of any windows and waited for someone to come. My parents live across town and showed up before the officers. The strange figures were gone at this point, but the neighbors across the street were up and saw the car they had come in. I ended up staying at my parents’ place that night, and when I came home the next morning, I noticed the basement window was partially kicked in.

I got a security system installed the next day. I still have no idea who it was.

***From Skeptic1222: I survived a kidnapping attempt in the 1980s. This was in a Sacramento neighborhood late at night, when I was visiting a friend when I was maybe 9-10 years old. Three of us walk out to go play at this park at an elementary school several blocks away. It was around 10:00 pm at night. We were playing Frisbee in the street in front of the school, and our Frisbee lands in the street.

Just as it touches on the pavement, a white van pulls up and stops, as if to allow us to get our Frisbee. I walk toward the van and grab the Frisbee, then move to the side to allow the van to pass. As the van passed, the most terrifying thing occurred. The sliding door opened and a guy dressed in black like a ninja came flying out and tried to grab me.

He had a harness on and the van had been rigged with a telescoping mechanism that allowed him to come out around five feet while hanging from this harness. The harness was operated by another person inside, also dressed in black. So there were at least three people involved in this attempt, including the driver of the vehicle.

I barely dodged his attempt to grab me and all three of us ran toward the elementary school and hopped the fence, ran along the fence through bushes, and then hopped a second fence that allowed us to be inside the school. We were scared as heck and could hear the van driving around and assumed they were in hot pursuit of us.

We found a way to get onto the roof of the school from inside, thank God, and proceeded to observe the van driving around the school for at least 30 minutes in an obvious attempt to find us. This scared us even more because one would think the would-be kidnappers would flee, but I suppose they thought we couldn’t identify them.

This was before cell phones, so we stayed up there until around 45 minutes after we last saw them. It appeared that some of them were searching for us on foot also, which added to the fear. We eventually escaped and went back to my friend’s house, and never told anyone in our family out of fear of being punished for being out late playing.

***From SoniKaos: This is just good old human creepy. In the late 90s, I went to a yard sale that was about six blocks from my house; I live in a fairly small town. I found this silver cigarette case that I thought would make me look stylish and uber-sophisticated at the bar. I bought it for $2 from a guy who was at least 85 years old. I took it home and then immediately dropped it on the sidewalk.

It got dented in one corner, but it was still good-looking so I used it for a while. After a couple of bar trips, it became a pain in the butt, as it only held eight smokes, so I tossed it in a nightstand drawer and forgot about it. A few months, later I saw another yard sale at the same place and stopped to look. I found a case just like the one I bought and picked it up. But here’s the weird part…

It not only had the same dented corner, but I opened it up and there was a smoke that was my brand inside. For some reason, I felt the need to buy it again for $2 from the same old geezer. When I got home the “original” case was not in my nightstand. I will never forget the smile that old guy gave me when I bought it the second time. I have no idea how he got it again, though.

***From BMLM: When I was child, I vividly remember having dreams where I was in a toy store, or was playing with a toy I didn’t have, and if I gripped it really, really hard, I would wake up with the toy in real life. My family was by no means poor, but very often my toys were bought from garage sales. One time, they had bought me a really cool He-Man action figure.

For too long, however, he didn’t have a Skeletor to fight. I begged and pleaded, and my family tried to find one at garage sales. No luck. One night, I dream about playing with a Skeletor at the toy store. I wanted it SO BAD. At some point, I realized I was dreaming. I didn’t want to stop playing with it, so I gripped it hard in my hands, making sure that when I woke up I would have it. And I swear to God I did.

I was stoked. My family asked me where I had gotten the toy, knowing that I wanted one. When I told them I took it from a dream, they seemed pretty amused. In retrospect they likely bought it for me and slipped it to me in my sleep. If that was the case, they did this a few more times. Another time I took a Power Ranger from my dream, and then a GI Joe car. Heck of a power to have as a kid.

***From Sparty_Party: I’m a female, first of all. I’m 21 now, but when I was four years old, my sister had just turned 16. She had just gotten her license and was so excited. It was probably only September, and she got her license in July. My sister is from my dad’s first marriage, and she lived with her mom and stepdad while I lived with our dad and my mom.

We lived about 30 minutes apart. My dad worked late hours, and my mom frequently traveled for work, so I had to spend a lot of time at a babysitters (which was costly) until my sister got her license. My dad finally gave her permission to pick me up after she got out of school and take me to her mom’s until he was off work. She was so excited to finally be able to use her license!

I know I said I was only four, but I remember this event so vividly. It took years for my sister to even ask me if I remembered it, but when I told her all the parts I remember (about 80%) she filled in the rest for me. It was one of the first times my sister would get to pick me up from my babysitter, which means it would be one of the first times she’d been allowed to drive with me alone.

Almost as soon as we pulled onto the main road, a white pick-up truck swerved behind us. Weird, but whatever. After a few turns, my sister noticed that the truck still followed her. Even when she would just switch lanes, he was right there switching behind her. My sister, being a bit of a paranoid person, tested it a little and switched lanes several times.

She said she heard his tires squealing by his quick cuts to get behind her again. She told me not to worry, and I remember being an oblivious little kid. She looked scared, but I had no concerns. The man started to get really angry. I don’t remember anything about what he looked like, but I do remember that he had this look of pure hate on his face

It’s strange that you can sometimes remember expressions but not the faces they were on. He wasn’t only angry, he was full of hate. He was honking the horn repeatedly, just laying on it, and he was very close to our car. He was swerving back and forth, trying to get our attention. He would pull up beside us occasionally, flip us off, and honk.

The first big event came about when we pulled up at a four-way stoplight. It’s a bigger one, so there was a lot of room in the intersection. We were the first ones at the stop light in our lane, and nobody was beside us. The man used this lane to pass us and pull his car in front of us almost in the intersection. He was now blocking us.

I so perfectly remember that white pick up truck. He got out of it, and started storming towards our car. He was screaming so hard I remember thinking his face almost looked purple. Neither one of us remembers what he was saying, but he pulled up his shirt to reveal to us that he had a gun. He pointed to it and at us, threatening us and closing the gap between us. My sister put her hand over my body, told me to close my eyes, and floored it through the intersection.

She said she was worried we were either going to hit him, or get hit in the intersection, but it was a better chance than sitting there and waiting for the psycho to shoot. But that was just the beginning of the nightmare. He hopped back into his car and followed us. My house was closer to where we were than my sister’s, so for some reason, she decided to go to my empty house.

Obviously, he followed us and blocked us into the driveway. He got out and walked towards my sister’s parked car. Once again, she had to think fast and swerve her way across our lawn back out onto the road. This was before cell phones, and she had just started driving and was still young. She had no idea what to do, really.

He followed us back onto our neighborhood road, pulling up next to our car and hitting his truck against us, trying to make us skid or wreck. There is a smallish area of grass between my neighborhood road and a major busy road, and it was obvious he was trying to push our car hard enough to send us into the traffic beside us. I remember him doing that little gesture where you drag your finger along your throat, like you’re slitting it.

His face was still purple. There was a gas station nearby and my sister decided on the last Hail Mary move she could think of. I remember her talking to me so seriously and sternly. She told me she needed me to be a big girl and the second we pulled by the door of the gas station, to undo my seatbelt and jump out, and run inside so fast that I shouldn’t even worry about closing my door.

I was to run inside and go directly to the person behind the counter and tell them to call 9-1-1 because a bad man was following us. We pulled in and she threw the car in park and I jumped out and did as I was told. She was only a few seconds behind, but she had to actually stop the car, park it, turn it off, whatever. She closed her door and mine for me, and just ran inside with me.

The man came into the parking lot behind us, and when we were inside, he went through my sister’s car. By the time officers arrived, he was gone. They never found him, and we never knew what provoked him or what his plan was. The only thing he took from the car was my sister’s ID and the cash she had on her. I can still so vividly picture what was happening, but I don’t remember being scared.

I don’t remember my sister ever showing that she was freaking out, although later at her mom’s she did lose her mind, sobbing her eyes out and yelling, understandably. I think the way she handled it really prevented it from being a really traumatic experience for me. It’s still scary, but it’s not something that haunts me, and I have her to thank.


When Weird Darkness returns I’ll share more disturbing stories from Redditors.



***From AsianRainbow: This happened to my cousin, and my other cousin and aunt witnessed it. My younger cousin’s name is Jenny, my older cousin’s name is Jane, and my aunt’s name is Myra. So Jenny and her mom Myra are in New York to visit Jane while she’s in her master’s program. They tour around NYC and stay at a hotel in Manhattan somewhere.

Anyways, in the middle of the night Jenny is having nightmares. After talking with her after the fact, she describes sleep paralysis to the tee. Apparently Jenny was being drawn in and suffocated by a massive TV that drove her through the bed and into the ground. She woke up screaming and crying, and vomited and peed her pants in the bathroom.

My aunt Myra goes to help her and wash her off, and they both head back to bed sometime later. A while later, my aunt checks on Jenny again, who is now staring directly at her with a blank expression. She’s sleeping with her eyes fully open. My aunt is creeped out, but then a new terror came to visit. She and my other cousin Jane are starting to hear whispers and children’s voices.

They leave first thing in the morning…but one more creepy thing happened. There’s a photo of my family from this time where Jenny has fully blackened lips. Not Photoshop blackened, but they’re perfectly black. Almost as if she had put on some makeup or lipstick. But of course she didn’t. To this day, we have no idea why her lips showed up like that.

***From MDB2408: My parents were on their honeymoon in Key West. When they arrived at the hotel to check in, they were told that the room would be non-smoking. With my dad being a smoker, they requested a different room. They got the room switch and went to their room. As they got off the elevator, the smell of fresh paint was overwhelming.

Down the hall there was a painter with all necessary supplies laid out around him, and he was painting the wall. As my parents walked passed him, they casually greeted him and the painter gave absolutely no acknowledgement of their presence. Whatever. When they got to their room, the smell of paint was even worse in there, so bad it wasn’t even bearable so they decide to go to the front desk to change rooms again.

When they explained the situation, the attendant looked very confused and informed them that there wasn’t a scheduled paint job on that floor for that day but agreed to change their room. My parents go back to their floor to grab their luggage…and the painter is completely gone. All the supplies are cleaned up and gone within 10 minutes, and the smell of paint was completely gone.

At this point, my parents were freaked out but didn’t think much of it and go to their new room. The next morning on their way to breakfast, they overhear a tour guide talking to a group. My parents tuned in when the guide mentioned the floor that they were originally supposed to stay on. Apparently a long time ago there was a painter on that floor painting and he fell down the elevator shaft.

Now, my parents don’t normally believe in the paranormal but after an event like this that they had no explanation for, it freaked them out a good bit.

***From another Redditor: I was hitchhiking home from high school (I know, I know) and got picked up by a really weird guy with stereotypical creepy thick glasses. For the record, I am a guy. It was really hot in his truck—he probably had the heat on in retrospect—as we drove along a main road. At one point he mentions the heat and said that it was OK if I wanted to take off my shirt. I had the perfect response.

I said, “No thanks” then opened the door and rolled out into traffic when the truck was coming to a light. Thank God the door handle hadn’t been removed or anything. Bonus: I hitchhiked around a year later and the exact same guy pulled up and asked me if I wanted a ride. He didn’t recognize me and I said no, then realized at that point that he must do this kind of thing often. I never hitchhiked again after that last day.

***From PrimeSFR: This one hits me every now and then when I wake up in the middle of the night. So I was around 17 and had gotten home from work rather late. I went straight to my room to change and found myself hungry. It was probably around 1 am by this time and I didn’t want to cook anything and make too much noise as I was afraid I’d wake the parents.

So when I ventured to my kitchen, I started shuffling through the cupboards looking for a quick fix of snack food to tide me over until the morning. Now, our kitchen was positioned so that the kitchen door led to our back yard. The door itself was an old wooden door, but my dad had added one of those metal security gates on the outside for good measure. It was one of the security gates where the holes on the door were small enough so that insects could not get through, and therefore we could leave the wooden door open in the summer to allow for a breeze to go through the house.

In addition to the security door, my dad had also installed one of those auto security lights, you know the ones that go on automatically whenever their motion sensor is triggered. Usually the light would only go on when I would let my dog outside to pee at night. However, on this night my dog was already lounging in my room waiting for me to come back with some snacks for him as well.

Anyways, getting ahead of myself. So, I was busy creeping through the cupboards and finally hit the jackpot with some pop tarts. Knowing my dog, I didn’t want to chance him snagging the tart from my hand as I ate it, so I busted those things open then and there and ate them raw. As I am standing there eating the first pop tart, I hear a faint whistling sound from outside.

The wooden door was open. At first I thought it was the wind, but then I noticed that the whistling was a distinct tune and not random whistling. I didn’t know the tune but I could tell that it was from a song…it sounded like a happy and sad song all rolled into one. I know that doesn’t make sense, but that’s the best way I can describe it. It was odd.

After standing there for around 20 seconds, I decided that it must be one of my friends who lives down the block screwing with me. Maybe they were on the other side of the fence and whistling there to scare me. Right when I am thinking this thought, I see the security light suddenly turn on. I quickly looked around the surrounding area but don’t see anyone or anything that could have set the light off.

The whistling is still going on……Now I am in panic mode. Is it one my friends? If so, where are they hiding? If it’s not one of them, then who is it? I am stuck standing there now and can’t move as I stare outside waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. A minute or so goes by, with the whistling continuing and the light remaining on.

Suddenly the whistling gets louder and I see the doorknob to my metal door start to move up and down. I can see through the metal door to see that there is no one there. The whistling sounds like it’s right outside now and the door knob keeps moving like someone is trying to get in. The security light is still on so I have a clear view of the front of the door and know for sure there is no one there.

Screw the pop tarts. I dropped the box and jetted back to my room, slammed and locked the door, and hid under my blankets with my bat and dog. I never went out to the kitchen at night after that.

***From JDotAllan: My mom told me one that’s creepy. When I was a baby, maybe about six months old, she put me into my cot to sleep one afternoon. It was a high sided wooden thing with a drop side for access that required you to press in two little nubs, one in each corner, to release the side. Well, she came upstairs one day and found me outside the cot, asleep in the middle of the floor about two metres from the cot.

The sides were up and there is no way I could have opened it; I couldn’t stand and the sides were far too high to jump over. Apparently she never felt comfortable leaving me in the room after that. Also, when my younger brother was born he was put into that room as his bedroom. One evening my mom and I were on her bed playing with my baby brother and we heard this noise coming from his room.

Panicked, my mom went to look and one of his musical toys was in the cot playing to itself despite not being activated.

***From LanaDog: When I was about six years old, I was playing with the kid next door one afternoon. Then the lights went out all of a sudden. We were by ourselves since all of her family members were at the hospital with her mom, who was suffering from leukemia then. When the blackout happened, my friend went out of the house to the porch. I was by the door looking outside when something made me look back into the house.

There, in the living room, was a shadow figure walking around—tall, dark, no recognizable features whatsoever. It was as if someone was wearing a black whole body suit, but not as definite as a real person would be in a room. It wasn’t too blurry either, but I noticed it moved around the room as if it were looking for something.

I actually wasn’t scared at this point, since I’ve never seen anything like it and I was a curious child. The next thing I knew, it went up to the second floor, so I followed it and continued to watch the shadow figure walk around the bedroom. Again, it seemed like it was looking for something. Then it started moving towards the wall on my right.

I remember thinking “Oh my god, is it gonna disappear!? Is it gonna disappear!?” And sure it enough, it vanished through the wall. I forgot about all this until I was around 17 and was watching one of those “Real Ghost Stories” on TV. One guy talked about his own experience of seeing shadow figures in a hospital where he was confined for a few months.

He mentioned that he sometimes saw them beside people who were about to pass. Chills ran up and down my spine when I heard this. I remember my friend’s mom passed just a week after I saw that shadow thing. But at least I now have my own understanding of what that dark figure I saw might have been: some kind of grim reaper.

***From MrFromEurope: I was at Wal-Mart standing in front of the French bread. Suddenly, I notice this strange guy standing there, starring at the food. He’s about 40 years old and wearing jeans shorts. He’s a little overweight with a handlebar moustache, tight shirt, and flip-flops. I pick up one loaf of bread and he turns to me with a strange smile. I put the load down and walk away, shivering.

After 30 minutes or so, I change my mind and go back to the bread aisle and that dude is still standing in the same spot…just staring. So I put the bread back…He IMMEDIATELY grabs it, the one I just put down, and storms to the cash register. Pays and leaves. That is the only thing he bought…What the heck?

***From MicMcKee: I was at a friend’s house spending the night when I was in middle school. As expected, we’d stay up to all hours, which didn’t matter most of the time except the bathroom was right near his parents’ room. About the only time we’d get in trouble was when someone would wake them up when nature called. To avoid this, we’d go out the basement door and just pee in the woods.

The door stayed unlocked most of the time because we’d managed to lock ourselves out more than once. This was also compounded by the fact that we’d all wander out and find something to do in the woods on a regular basis. This night, his older brother was home and kept barging in the basement door and raining chaos from above, so we decided to lock the door just to deter him.

Not that it really would have kept him out, but at least he’d have to use the key and that took the “barging in” fun out of it. About midnight, we heard the handle jiggling and didn’t think much of it, figuring it was his brother. After about five minutes of off and on handle fondling, we finally hit the door and yelled for him to stop. Quiet.

No response, and no more clattering of the handle. Great, we can move on right? Wrong. About 10 minutes later it started again, and the process repeated. This went on for about two hours, until finally after telling him to stop we just said, “screw it” and ignored it. He continued for about 30 minutes after our last attempt for him to stop and then just gave up.

Well, fast forward to about 9 am. We were just stirring and one of my friends had to go to the bathroom. If you’ve ever had a sleepover like that, there are bodies strewn wherever there is space, and once the first person starts walking around it kind of stirs the nest. We all started stretching and making our way to relieve ourselves of all the soda we’d binged on the night before.

As I go walk outside, I grab the door handle to close it behind me and noticed it felt rough. After looking at it, I saw that the space around the keyhole was all but destroyed. There were giant scratch marks on every surface and the metal guides were bent and skewed. I asked my friend that lived there what had happened, and he said it was the first he’d noticed it.

Not really wanting to get blamed for something his brother did, we went upstairs and told his parents about the night before. After his dad went down to see what we were talking about, he went completely white and ran upstairs to call the authorities. Evidently someone had been trying to force the lock open while we were all inside.

That’s actually happened to me more than once on different occasions, but what completely freaks me out about this time was that this person knew we were in there and that we knew someone was trying to get in. Even so, he REPEATEDLY tried to force his way inside, heedless of our complaints. God knows what sort of person that was.

***From an unnamed poster: When I was younger, maybe around 12 years old, I was alone at home with my sister who was 10 at the time. Our mom had gone down the road to a family friend’s house, but it was really late (past 10) and she was still not back. We were watching TV when suddenly someone hit the letterbox twice really hard, and without looking we opened the door straight away, since we assumed it was our mom.

When we opened it, there was no one at the door. Instead, in the middle of the road there was a lady just standing there, staring at us. It was really dark so we didn’t see the face or anything properly. We just shut the door and freaked out. Our mom came back around 20 or so minutes later, but it definitely was one of the creepiest moments ever.

***Another anonymous entry: So I have these cousins who have always somehow lived in haunted houses. It probably makes more sense to say they’re haunted. My uncle and aunt used to live in a small house first, and they had just one child at that point. Whenever they were downstairs, they’d hear someone walking upstairs, and whenever they were upstairs, they’d hear someone walking and doing things downstairs.

They eventually moved and then at their third house, strange things happened too. Blankets would get pulled off when they were sleeping, you’d see family members walk into a bedroom that no one stayed in but when you walked in, no one was there. This all happened regularly. Eventually, my aunt started going slightly crazy and said it was after she saw this scary ghostly woman standing in the hallway in their house.

***From a deleted Redditor: I was out at a restaurant with some friends a long time ago, probably 10 or 11 years ago. We were all eating at some Italian place. We had just ordered our food and were all chatting when some random, creepy-looking dude came out from the back area. He walked to the front of the place, turned around, looked at everyone in the restaurant, and then stopped at me.

He looked right at me and said, “YOU! I need your help.” I sat there thinking, “What the heck is this guy talking about?” Whatever, though, I got up and went to “help him.” Apparently, he needed help putting on a backpack because it was “heavy.” There was literally nothing in the bag. There was no weight to it at all, nothing whatsoever.

After that he thanked me and walked out. I still have no idea what the heck was in his bag or why he chose me out of a full restaurant of people. Weird people like talking to me for some reason.

***From BeatleForce1: One time my friend and I slept on the floor in the lounge of my house overnight. We got pretty tipsy and decided to go for a walk. So at about 2 am, we walked to the cemetery on the other side of the block and looked inside. At the same time, we both screamed and ran like heck. We had both seen a clear, white object move quickly across the cemetery.

We initially thought one or the other of us might have imagined it, but we had both seen it at the same time. We ran all the way home, and didn’t leave the house again until morning.

***From PegasusTheBicycle: When my aunt was in college, she took a night lab class that would let out late. One night she was walking back to her car and someone came up behind her, pressed something into her back, and told her to keep walking. Suddenly a man coming toward her who she had never met before looked at her, threw open his arms for a hug, and said, “How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long!”

He then whispered, “play along. He has a gun.” My aunt immediately played along, hugging back and acting excited to see this stranger. The guy who was behind my aunt quickly backed off and walked away. This hero then took my aunt to the nearest emergency alert post, pushed the button for her, and told her to stay put while he went to get help. He never returned.

***From Easy-Trigger: A few years ago, I taught English in Slovakia. One Friday night, I went out with the rest of the teachers for pizza and other, assuredly wacky, shenanigans. Eventually we wound up in this weird, underground club. Not really my scene, but whatever. I went to the washroom, and while I was occupied, another guy walked in. He said something in Slovak.

I don’t speak Slovak, so I said, “Sorry, can’t help you.” Then I heard this click, like a lighter. I started laughing and made some joke about smoking wasn’t allowed, washed my hands and left. Then we all decided to head for home. Since I can’t speak or read Slovak, I didn’t follow local news outside what my co-workers told me.

Monday morning, bright and early, I found out what really happened that night—and I couldn’t believe it. Someone had shot up that club not long after we left. Apparently his weapon jammed and it took him ages to fix it in the washroom. I think I used up every piece of luck I will ever have that night.

***From Loyd_Rage: I had a dog once that was super loyal and loving and would always come running to me when I called. Like, he would almost crash into me whenever I had treats for him. One day sitting in the living room, all of his hairs stood up on his back and he was just staring over my shoulder, growling and showing his teeth. No matter what I would do to try to get him to come to me, he would never break his stare at that one spot and just kept growling.

I eventually carried him out of the room because it was freaking my roommates and me out so badly.

***From NoImDominican: I was walking to the store late at night, probably around 11-1 am. I don’t fully remember, but the streets were isolated. I live in the Bronx in a not-so-nice area, but I’ve grown up around the “not-so-nice” people in this neighborhood all my life, so I’m not afraid that anything will happen to me because a lot of them actually look out for their neighbors.

Anyway, while I was walking, the streets were completely empty—until I heard footsteps behind me. Being the cautious person that I am, I turn around to take a good look at the man for a long minute just in case I had to identify him later. I’m a short girl (5’1) and this man was twice my height. I was a bit creeped out now but kept walking like normal.

After a while, he caught up to me and asked if I was Dominican. I sternly said yes and kept walking. He then asked if I was 18 (I was 17) and I replied no. I was ready to cross the street because he was freaking me out. As soon as I said “no,” he looked at me, disappointed, and said, “Oh never mind,” and ran away from me. It was such a small thing, but it really creeped me out thinking about what may have happened if I had told him I was 18 and what exactly this guy was planning.

***From Jesters: There I was, a young man in a crowded Chicago bar. It was 2 am, and I was slightly tipsy. I had just been denied by the girl I foolishly spent the whole night talking to, and I “celebrated” by taking a couple more shots. Suddenly, all the drinks from that night came rushing to my bladder, so I decided to head to the bathroom before calling it a night.

After stumbling through the crowd, I finally made it to the dilapidated bathroom that was located downstairs. When I walked in, I was met with a shocking sight. There, standing in the middle of the men’s bathroom in a dive bar at 2 in the morning, was a blonde breastfeeding what looked like a newborn babe. Whether I was too far gone or just in shock at what I was seeing, I couldn’t seem to move or speak.

The silence was broken when the woman, clearly appalled that I was staring, yelled, “Do you mind?” and proceeded to squirt her breast milk at my face. The woman’s attempt to hit me was successful. Without saying a word, I walked out of the bathroom, wiped the milk from my face, and exited the bar. Since it all happened so fast, it wasn’t until the next morning that I was able to process the absurdity of what had happened the night before.


More hair-raising moments from Redditors are still to come, when Weird Darkness returns!



***From SoFullOfDoubts: About two years ago, I was in my room reading a book when I hear it. Soft as ever, two little girls giggling. Not just any giggle. It was the kind of giggling you hear in horror movies. I immediately put down my book and listened. After about a minute of holding my breath, I decided it must have come from outside. Then that night, just as I’m about to drift off to sleep, I hear it again.

Two little girls giggling. Now it was 2 am and I was pretty darn sure there weren’t two little girls outside my window at that time of night, so I began to freak out. I sat up in my bed and waited for what felt like forever just listening. Then I hear it again. I jumped out of my bed and go spend the rest of the night in the guest room. By the next morning, I was convinced my room was haunted.

For the next week, I avoided my room and spent my nights in the guest room unbeknownst to my family. I was afraid to tell anyone for fear I was going crazy or they wouldn’t believe me. But every time I spent more than an hour in my room, I would hear those two little girls giggle. By the end of the week, I was a mess. I could barely sleep and was terrified of my room.

Then one morning my brother walks up to me and says, “You deaf or something?” Obviously, I was confused, and after further questioning, he tells me about this small device he had placed in my room. Apparently, its like some sort of prank device that’s easily hidden and can make a variety of different noises, my brother, however, choose the creepy as heck little girls giggling sound.

He wondered why I hadn’t heard it or said something about all week and I just wanted to punch him in the face. So my room wasn’t haunted after all! Moral of the story, sometimes your brother is just a jerk.

***From Terefel: When I was six, my mom and dad took my younger sister and me to a baseball game, leaving my grandmother to babysit my youngest sister. When we got back, my grandmother told my folks that two guys had come by the house with photography equipment and asked whether a young girl with red curly hair lived there, a description that sounded just like my sister who was at the game with me.

They said they had spotted her and that she would be a great child model for some advertising work they were doing. When my grandmother said she wasn’t home they said they would come back another time. My grandmother and mom didn’t think much about it, but my dad got an awful feeling in his stomach. He said “Something’s not right here” and called the authorities.

15 minutes later, several FBI agents showed up and began conducting interviews with my grandmother and my parents while I ran around and showed the agents my helicopter. The truth was bone-chilling.Turns out we had been targeted by a child theft ring; the photographers would take a bunch of photos and wait until the toddler threw a tantrum and then they would ask the mother to go grab a toy to keep the child entertained.

While the mother was out of the room, they would grab the child and bolt, leaving everything else behind.  The FBI told my folks that my sister had likely already been sold and would have been out of the country within 24 hours if they got her. We were advised to change preschools and other aspects of our daily routine. It still gives me the chills to think about what could have happened to her.

Needless to say, my mom became pretty overprotective; it was a few years before she even trusted us with a babysitter. We are just fortunate that everything worked out.

***From CamptownRaces: This is something that happened to me back in 10th grade. I couldn’t sleep and I was feeling restless, so I decided to take a walk along the greenway near my house. Most people would have reservations about walking through the woods alone at night, but it was a safe neighborhood and I knew the greenway like the back of my hand.

After no more than five minutes of walking through the woods, I hear a girl singing. I recognize the tune right away, it’s “Camptown Races.” You know, “Camptown ladies sing this song, Doo-da, Doo-da.” I look around for the girl, but it’s pitch black. Not wanting to suddenly come across her and frighten her, I shout out, “You have a nice voice!”

No reply, she just keeps singing. Weird. I continue walking, but the singing isn’t getting any further away. Is she following me? Or are we just coincidentally walking in the same direction? So I make a sharp turn and start walking down another path. The singing follows. Another sharp turn. Again it follows. Okay now I’m 100% sure this girl is following me.

I start trying to pin the location of the voice with no luck. I think she was purposefully changing her volume to prevent me from knowing when I was getting closer or further away. Now I’m really starting to get freaked out. I bolt and start sprinting back home. I was running track at the time so I was pretty certain I could ditch her.

I get home, kick off my shoes, and turn on my TV. I’m about 10 minutes into an episode of Aqua Teen when I hear a voice that’s not coming from the TV. It’s a girl’s voice singing frigging “Camptown Races.” For a brief moment I just sit there in pure terror. This can’t be happening. I run outside barefoot and frantically look around.

I realize that the voice is coming from above me. She’s on the garage roof. I kept a ladder on the side of the garage so I could climb up. The ladder was the only way up or down unless you wanted to jump and chance a sprained ankle. This is it. I’ve got her. I race up the ladder just in time to see a figure in a red hoodie disappear off the side of the roof leading to the backyard.

She had jumped. I watched her race across my backyard, completely unfazed by the fall, and book it over our six-foot fence like it was no big deal. I briefly considered chasing after her, but I couldn’t in my bare feet. Frankly, I don’t know if I wanted to. I don’t believe in ghosts and ghouls but I’m still freaked out by the whole thing to this day.

***From MyHatIsBread: When I was seven years old, my mom gave birth to my little sister. My dad and I went to visit her in the hospital to check out the new family member. As seven-year-olds often do, I got bored, so my parents sent me to the kiosk right outside the main building to get an ice cream. As I was walking towards the kiosk, I cut over the lawn as it was a shorter walk.

Suddenly I feel and hear a really heavy thud right behind me. I turn around to see an image that will haunt me for the rest of my life. It was the warped, mangled body of a man in a hospital gown maybe 40-50 cm from where I was standing. The man had jumped off the hospital roof after receiving the news he had terminal cancer.

My mom and a lot of the others in the birth ward even saw the guy flying past the windows. The guy basically just fell short of taking me with him. A group of doctors and psychiatrists asked me to get emergency therapy, but I insisted on getting my ice cream and going home. To this day, I can still recall the thud of the body hitting the ground and his body lying next to me, clear as crystal.

***From NotACleverName: My mom just recently told me the story of her friend’s creepy dad. One night when she was younger, she stayed over at this friend’s house. The friend’s creepy dad offered them “fresh venison” for dinner. My mom had never had venison, but of course, she ate it so as not to be rude. Well, the friend later tells my mom that her dad is not a hunter. The truth was so much more gruesome than she was prepared for.

Years later, we learned that creepy dad had cannibalized several women over the course of his life. Mom is pretty sure she ate human meat.


Thanks for listening. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do! You can email me anytime with your questions or comments at darren@weirddarkness.com – and you can find the show on Facebook and Twitter, including the show’s Weirdos Facebook Group on the CONTACT/SOCIAL page at WeirdDarkness.com. Also on the website, you can find free audiobooks I’ve narrated, watch old horror movies with horror hosts at all times of the day for free, sign up for the newsletter to win free prizes, grab your Weird Darkness and Weirdo merchandise, plus if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell, you can click on TELL YOUR STORY.

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.

WeirdDarkness™ – is a production and trademark of Marlar House Productions. Copyright, Weird Darkness.

Now that we’re coming out of the dark, I’ll leave you with a little light… “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.” — Romans 12:10

And a final thought… “Sometimes things have to go very wrong before they can be right.”

I’m Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness.

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