It looks to me as if the tradition of telling Ghost stories is slowly dying out. Adam is doing his best, and his stories are great, but I want to hear more.
I remember when I was a boy scout the highlight of the day was when the sun went down and we gathered around the campfire or in some rickety old cabin to tell and listen to scary stories. Of course we sometimes had trouble sleeping afterwards (especially if we were camping outside), but nothing can compare to that feeling of fascinated horror.
That's why i made this post.
If you have a good story you would like to tell, post it here.
The best stories are of course the ones we have experienced ourselves, but it does not have to be.
It does not need to be a ghost story. It can be a scary story of any kind, fictional or real.
I will start.
I have posted this story before on The Magistrate's house under the guest name Johnny, but i think it can be told once more.
I was about twelve years old and staying home alone as my parents had gone out to a party.
I quite liked staying home alone (as most twelve year-olds do), watching telly, eating snacks, playing videogames and similar.
But the fact is that it was an old house, and strange things sometimes happened there. I had witnessed some of these myself, but at the time I didnít give it much thought, enjoying myself as I was. The living room where i sat was next to the kitchen and before my parents moved in there had been an extra doorway going straight from the living room and into the kitchen. This was now unused and my mother had hung curtains there.
The television stood on a television table right in front of this doorway an the sofa where I sat was opposite from this.
Late at night while watching television something happened. The volume on the television set suddenly grew to an alarming height, even though the remote was lying on the table in front of me. I lunged for the remote control an turned the volume down to nothing. I sat for a while breathing heavily and looked around. A feeling of unease was growing on me and I couldnít shake it. Then i suddenly noticed that the curtain behind the television set was moving, and not just moving any old how, but moving as if someone was standing right behind it and breathing hard. It went slowly in and out, and i watched it, paralyzed with fear, for a while. After a while it stopped, so did the feeling of unease. I took a quick check of the house (and that took balls, believe me) and went back to watching television. Nothing else happened that night.
One can quickly assume that what happened was a mere technical fault with the television and that the moving curtain came from the house being old and draughty. But nothing can explain the feeling of unease.
I have later gone over the facts in my head. The television set was new and should have no faults. The house was maybe old, but it sure as hell wasnít draughty. My parents had given good money for proper insulation when they bought it. And there was no window or door open at the time. It happened in Norway at midwinter, and anybody who has been to Norway will know that you just donít leave doors or windows open in midwinter.
Come on and join the fun!