People share real stories of the creepiest things that have ever happened to them, and they’re not for the faint of heart. You’ve been warned.
If you would like to read more stories, be sure to check out the source link at the end of this article.
These two incidences happened about a month apart from each other and I still have no idea what caused them or whether or not I was dreaming.
In the first instance, I was lying in bed at around 7am on a weekend trying to work out the age-old mystery of why its so hard for me to wake up early and bright on a weekday for work, but I seem to have no issue waking early on weekends when I want to sleep in.
I was just lying there, minding my own business, when I felt the sensation of a big hand clasping down forcefully over my face, as if someone was standing behind my head, (inside of the wall I guess, as the head of the bed was flush against the wall). My vision was blocked for a second, as though something physical were covering my eyes.
The feeling of the hand disappeared almost as soon as it started, and I was out of that bed and across the room searching for my attacker. There was no hand, no person, nothing was touching me, and no one was in the room. Nevertheless, the sensation that Id just been forcefully touched was there, as was the residual panic thats experienced when a giant hand that can smother an adult face suddenly grabs at your head.
The second and final time this happened, I was house sitting for my aunt and uncle. They own a long triangular block at the end of a cul de sac with a creek bed and council land on two sides, a large fence separating them from a highway on another, and their driveway at the pointy end. Its a large, dark block, which seems more intimidating in the dark, but they have chickens and a lovely old cat and, although it would be easy for someone to cross the creek and get into the back yard, I felt perfectly safe there on my own.
One evening, I was in bed with the lights off, waiting for sleep to come. I was lying on my side, looking at the muted light that was spilling in around the curtains from the streetlight outside their house and wondering what the best way to block that light would be, when I felt an abnormally long arm snake across my waist, up the centre of my body and grab me around the throat.
Where the face-grabbing incident lasted a second or so, this felt like it lasted five to ten horrifying seconds. Long enough for me to question whether an arm could really be so long. As this mystery arm latched onto my neck, I snapped out of my fear and shot an elbow back in the general direction of where this apparent aggressor logically should have been. There was nothing there. I turned on the bedside lamp, followed by every single light in the house, but the door locks were still bolted and the only other thing moving around inside was the cat, annoyed at being roused from his beauty sleep.
The same as last time, this felt terrifyingly real the purposeful creeping of fingertips across skin, the firm and cool sensation of a physical hand and arm that had been outside of the warm bed, the swift final lunge over the last few centimetres and the rough grasp around my neck.
In both instances, I felt like I was awake, but certainly could have been dreaming. Either way, it hadnt happened before and it hasnt happened since, and Im perfectly content for things to remain that way.
One night, I was up nursing my youngest baby. We kept him in an office attached to our bedroom to keep him near. The office had floor to ceiling mirrored sliding doors for a closet on one wall. While nursing, in the dark, I always fell asleep in a twilight-type sleep.
I would feel a weird draft type feeling on the back of my neck. I would open my eyes and I would see a man standing behind me (in the mirror); I’d blink and open my eyes again and he was gone. I quite literally thought I was seeing things. It freaked me out so badly, I took the baby into bed with me.
Night after night would go by, and eventually I would bring the baby back to his bed. Though, I kept seeing the man when slightly waking up. Clear as day I would see this man. Each time, getting more of a glimpse of him. He wasn’t creepy or menacing just creepy that I kept seeing this image. While I ran away from him the first time, for some reason, I didn’t freak out as much each time after.
The man, with his big wide sun-cowboyish hat, well dressed in a suit, (not modern-day style though), with a tie. Medium build, average height. I couldn’t quite make out his face because of the hat. My intrigue got the best of me and I had to see his face. But each time was the same: I’d barely open my eyes and see him only to blink once and he’d be gone. But I could “feel” a presence. Super bizarre.
My father-in-law and I spoke about it. He had built the house, so I knew no one had died in it. It had to be my imagination. It had to be.
To my surprise, my father in law told me, “Well, maybe someone died in this plot of land – you don’t know what happened here before they built out this area”. Thanks, Dad.
Some weeks later, my cousin posted a photo of my great-great-great Grandfather, (a Native American, who was some big-shot with the tribe). I felt like crying. It was him. The picture of the man, my ancestor who I’d never seen before… that was the man I kept seeing at night. It was plain as day. Same exact outfit. Same face, (but in my vision, he had a small beard).
I’ve never seen him since. We had moved… and I’ve never seen him again. I’m not a believer in ghosts – but this creepy occurrence made me kind of believe in them. Kind of.
I still wonder why, if it was my ancestor, why me, (out of his hundreds of descendants)? Why this house? Why watch me with this child? Super odd. Super creepy.
The weirdest thing of it all? I feel like I know him. And I’ve never so much as heard a story about him.
This, by the way, is him (as a younger man; in my visions, he is probably 40-50 years old):
When I was in kindergarten and elementary school, I was friends with a girl, let’s call her Jennie because I feel uncomfortable sharing her real name in public. She came over to my house all the time and my Mom would still recall memories of her with fondness. She said that she never knew anyone as honest as Jennie. When my parents asked her what I had been doing in class, Jennie would tell them everything. EVERYTHING. Whether I got a bad grade, fell asleep in class and upset a teacher, or crushed on a boy.
In 5th grade, on the last day of school, a group of students in our class, including Jennie, decided to skip school to go to the beach. I was being grounded so I couldn’t join. During that trip, two of the kids drowned. Jennie was one of those who died. I don’t really know what happened, no adult ever gave me any details. My parents even forbid me to go by Jennie’s house after that, because whenever Jennie’s mom saw me, she would call me in and say: “If Jennie was still alive nowadays, she would be going to school like you.” Then she would try to hug me and call me Jennie.
About a year later, when I had just finished 6th grade, I had a dream in which Jennie and I were playing. Jennie was braiding my hair the way she always did, and told me that she was happy because I would be visiting her soon. I woke up feeling a bit spooked, but didn’t think much of it. Then at breakfast, my parents told me that they had a surprise for me: they were taking me to the beach.
On our way, my Mom made us stop at an unpopular beach which now had the sign “Danger” and told me: “That’s where your friend Jennie died.” I thought of the dream and started crying. I had never dreamt about Jennie before, or maybe I had but I never remembered it until that night. I never dreamt about her again.
From that point on, I can never think of that dream without getting goosebumps all over.
This is easily the strangest/creepiest thing thats ever happened to me.
In February of last year, while at work on a Friday morning, I was casually perusing the web, minding my own business, killing time before lunch. Yet, for whatever reason—and honestly, even to this day, Im not totally sure why—I decided to research an ancient disease. A disease which, before the advent of antibiotics, used to wipe out entire communities: tuberculosis.
Of course, my Google search brought me to Wikipedia, where I spent the next 15 to 20 minutes reading about the highly-contagious disease. I learned all about its history, epidemiology, diagnosis, prevention—you name it. I was surprised to discover that despite advancements in modern medicine, every year, millions of people will succumb to TB. Whats more, that figure is expected to rise in the coming years, largely due to antimicrobial resistance and the proliferation of superbugs. So, regardless of how long the disease has been around, tuberculosis is still tremendously dangerous and, if left untreated, fatal. Yikes.
At any rate, after sufficiently freaking myself out, I closed all of the tabs related to my TB investigation and continued on with my day. But then, no more than a few minutes later, my phone started vibrating. I was receiving a call from an unknown, private number.
Not wanting to disturb my coworkers, I scuttled into the lobby area and accepted the call. After answering a few questions and confirming that it was, in fact, me, the woman on the other end finally identified herself as a representative from the Public Health Agency of Canada. My stomach sank. I felt a chill down my spine. This is where things really took a turn for the worse. The rep proceeded to ask me about a particular bus trip, which had departed from Montreal to Toronto just 6 months prior. Being weirdly proficient with dates and times, everything lined up: without a shred of doubt, I knew I was present for that journey. I even double-checked my email afterwards to make sure.
I then became overwhelmed by this almost ghostly sensation—as though I had tampered with the fabric of reality. Somehow, someway, I knew exactly what the representative was going to say. And, by this point, Im sure many of you reading this do, too. I grew increasingly distressed. A weightlessness took over. All before she uttered the following words…
“Peter, we have it on good authority that another passenger on your bus that day was severely ill with a highly-infectious strain of tuberculosis.”
This is where my memory gets a little hazy. Like I said, I cant even begin to explain what I was feeling in that moment. What I experienced was similar to a premonition, but much, much more dramatic. The universe ceased to make sense. I was caught in something between real, everyday life, and that of the paranormal.
Anyway, before the call concluded, an appointment was scheduled at my local health clinic. To my horror, the next available slot wasnt until the following Monday. Yup, I had the entire weekend to ruminate on that call, question my very existence, and, of course, play armchair doctor as I burrowed through the catacombs of WebMD, convinced that I had contracted the transmittable disease. Mind you, I was in good health. I mean, I felt totally fine. I couldnt have possibly fallen ill, right? Nope. In the majority of TB cases—referred to as latent tuberculosis—the individual experiences no symptoms. From there, about 10% of infections will fully materialize. Untreated, the fatality rate is 50%.
After the hysteria died down and I came to grips with what transpired, I managed through the weekend and made it to the appointment with my sanity intact. However, seeing that I was one of many passengers on that journey, the Public Health Agency had to enlist the help of the press to spread word, causing something of a (mini) media firestorm.
Monday rolls around. I decamp from work in the early afternoon and head straight to the clinic. Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the tuberculosis screening process, let me break it down for you: to assess whether or not someones infected, a tiny little bit of the TB protein is injected into your skin—just below the top layer—where the area is then marked with a pen. However, the results are not instantaneous. You can only know after two full days. Should the injection site remain bare and nothing happens, youre in the clear. But if there are any signs of redness, irritation or swelling, well, youre not.
Thankfully, the test came back negative. I had not contracted tuberculosis. But the whole experience will stick with me in perpetuity. I mean, how could I forget? Theres no word in the English language that adequately describes what, exactly, happened. It wasnt a premonition, as I said earlier. It was definitely a coincidence, yes, but a supernatural one at that.
Ill preface this by saying that Im very skeptical about the supernatural, ghosts, etc.
Before I left my 95 job, I did consulting and development work in my spare time. Typically, this meant having meetings during strange hours. In this particular case, I was meeting with a client that owned a live music venue. This venue just happened to be an old mansion that is widely considered one of the most haunted buildings in the country. It has jail cells in the basement from the civil war era, and from what Ive been told there have been multiple horrendous deaths in the building.
During this meeting, there were only two people in the mansion: myself and the owner. We had been going over the website for a few hours and I heard some pounding and footsteps / running – the best way to describe it was kids playing. It sounded like it was in the house, but could have been outside.
The owner looked at me and said, “Did you hear that?”
Me: Yeah, it sounds like some kids playing outside.
Him: Its 2am…
I cant remember what day it was, but it was definitely a school night. Once I took the late hour into consideration, the sounds went from something Id normal consider just typical noise to something far more creepy. Its impossible to articulate, but the noises I heard didnt seem at all out of place until put in the context of the odd hour.
The owner later told me he hears kids playing in the house all the time, as well as other unexplained events. I only experienced it that one time, but it definitely wasnt my imagination.
When I was younger, I used to kick around all the nightspots in my town. I made friends with the bouncer, Michael, at a specific sports bar.
One night, my friend and I were in the bar and I had a persistent feeling of being watched. I had a couple of drinks, and it didn’t go away. At some point, I scanned the bar and noted an older man sitting way off in a corner, who made eye contact when I looked his way. He sat alone, and didn’t look away from me, and it made me feel even more disquieted. I finally decided I’d had enough and asked my friend if we could go somewhere else, since she drove. She told me to meet her at her car, that she would be a minute in the bathroom and saying goodbye to a friend.
I left the bar, waving to my bouncer friend, Michael, at the door, and made my way through the dark parking lot towards Marie’s car. The feeling of unease got worse and I eventually thought I heard something behind me and turned to find…the guy I had noticed in the bar.
He backed me all the way up against the passenger side of the car and was trying to get me to turn my head away from him. He kept saying, “I feel so bad for that dog over there…” like he was trying to make me look that way.
I’ve been through some stuff in my life, and I have never been so terrified as I was when I was looking in that man’s eyes. They were just…empty. I knew, without a trace of doubt, that he intended to do terrible things to me. If I turned my head, that would probably start the struggle that would lead to the end of my life.
So in the midst of him trying to make me turn my head or let my guard down, I’m mentally freaking out. Like wow, I can’t believe this is legitimately happening to me. I was nearly in shock, but I made a plan. I was going to count to three, brace myself against the car, and knee him in the crotch as hard as I could. I decided I wasn’t going down without a fight.
On the count of TWO, my bouncer friend Michael came running through the parking lot towards us, yelling for me. The creepy guy saw him and took off running for the alleyway. Michael had noted the guy following out too close behind me and had a feeling something was off, so he came to investigate. I am pretty sure he saved my life that night.