View Full Version : Ever see a ghost?

10-11-2005, 11:02 AM
Ever see a ghost? Got a story behind it? Please share it.

Lately I've been washing dishes at a cafe in an old house in downtown Halifax and every now and then I see a shadow behind me -- and I feel a presence -- and then it's gone. It's very real, and sometimes I feel chills crawling up my back. Could it be a ghost? I know the house is over 100 years old and at one time it was a private home before business took it over.

Doctor Munoz
10-12-2005, 12:36 PM
Hi Barry. I envy you the experience. I´ve always wanted to feel a presence, to see a errant shadow...
What I don't envy you is your casual job. I was a "kitchen porter" in "The Glory Hole" in Stratford-upon-Avon, and it was a hard time in my life. There were no ghosts around but some of the chefs were real monsters.
Anyway, to the point. One summer night in the old family house in Guadix there were strange noises. I wasn't there at the time, but my relations told me about steps in the dark corridor and some fidgeting noises from the door handles. And they are skeptics on this subject.
I am sure there is a rational explanation for these phenomena.
My two favorite hypothesis are:
- an eccentric and acrobatic marauder, wandering upon the red-tiled roofs of Guadix old quarter made an uninvited incursion into our old house through the open terrace; and after this first act of courage he hesitated to open any shut door. (FantĂ´mas theory)
- we were honored by the visit of a very fat cat (noisy steps, remember) with a penchant for hanging from door knobs (Lewis Carrol theory).
Who knows? I don't.

10-12-2005, 12:52 PM
I only wash dishes part time -- maybe 6 hours a week and it's for a friend so I get treated pretty good by her -- and fed and driven around. I wouldn't work for a large place.

Now where was I? Right. Ghost stories. I have another one to tell.

When I was 19, I moved in to an old red roominghouse. The landlady was also a cab driver and she took me under her wing and at night she'd give me a free supper and in return I'd do a bit of washing clothes for her in the basement. (I had just started working at the bank.) Anyway, one night when I was all alone in the house, I could have sworn I heard babies crying in the very room where I was washing clothes.

I literally ran out of the room and shot up the steps. When the landlady returned that night I asked her if there was any way I could have heard babies and she looked at me and said, "You heard them too?" She went on to say that many years before that abortions had been performed downstairs -- probably around 1910 or so.

10-12-2005, 01:25 PM
Hey, Barry. Like Doctor Muñoz, I've never had a ghostly encounter, though I would like to. Rather odd considering the stories going around that the building that houses the Department of Communication where I teach is supposedly "the most haunted building on campus." People swear by it, but so far, they just seem like stories to me.

10-12-2005, 02:00 PM
When I was a little kid I thought I saw a ghost once in my basement. But it turned out to be a clear sheet of plastic that was billowing in the wind and was casting an eerie glow in the moonlight. My dad was installing wood paneling in our basement and behind it he was putting up plastic sheeting to help in waterproofing. A pretty lame story, I know, but that's the best I have personally.

There is a ghost story in my family on my father's side. My grandmother, as a little girl, was walking through her family home in Italy. She went into her late mother's room and her mother was there! She was on a beautiful bed that was all in white, but she was moaning horribly. My grandmother approached her and said "What's wrong mama?" And her mother cried "Inferno!" My grandmother touched her and she felt like she was on fire. My grandmother went crying out of the house until she came upon some relatives. They searched the house to calm her down and found nothing, of course. But my grandmother swears that her hand was all red where she had burnt it.

It was always an entertaining and frightening story when she told it, and I believe she believes it. But it was probably a daymare brought on by trauma (it happened shortly after her mother's death) and growing up in a superstitious Catholic environment. This is a story right out of Dante. I really resent the Catholic Church for fostering this kind of terror.

The New Nonsense
10-12-2005, 05:38 PM
Great topic Barry, and thanks to everyone for sharing their stories. As some of you know, I'm a paranormal investigator so obviously this topic is of great personal interest to me. Have I ever seen a ghost? Sadly, no. I've seen some very weird things that I couldn't explain, but nothing I can say with absolute certainty was a ghost. There's a joke among paranormal investigators that goes, "If you're afraid of ghosts, the safest place to be is with a ghost hunter because we never see any." I've been on countless cases of hauntings where very level headed people claim they've seen ghosts. I believe they've certainly seen "something" unexplainable. What that is, who knows? I consider myself an open minded skeptic. I believe anything is possible, but I still want to see it with my own eyes.
If anyone is going to be in or near Wisconsin this weekend you may want to check out "The Unexplained" conference in Appleton, WI (Near Green Bay). I'm going to be the MC of the event, and I will be speaking about paranormal theory.

10-12-2005, 05:54 PM
I constantly see things moving out of the corners of my eye, but that's just my paranoia and fear of creepy-crawlies. (most of the time)

I've never had a "supernatural" experience, although I like being in supposedly haunted places. As a freshman in college, I lived in the room where Eugene O'Neill died, but there was a dearth of interesting ghost stories in that regard. Sometimes a draft would cause a door to open or close suspiciously, and we'd say hi to Eugene. Around Halloween that year, we bought a Ouija board and attempted to contact him, but it quickly degenerated into a bunch of us drinking per usual. Insert joke about "spirits" here.

Appropriately enough, this floor was the "Writers' Corridor," and it was the gloomiest in the entire building. The lights were always on the fritz, it constantly smelled of cigarette smoke, and of course a lot of us drank like we thought we were real writers. The RAs from the other floors called ours "The Vortex." :)

On another note, I once took one of those walking tours of "haunted" Edinburgh (some say the most haunted city in Europe.) There's a vast network of tunnels and alcoves under the city, which was used primarily as storage for shopkeepers and such in centuries past, but there are all kinds of stories of people depositing bodies and perpetrating other unseemly acts down there. At one point in the tunnels, everyone in our group had gone quiet, and our guide had just finished telling us a story of a little girl's ghost that was said to inhabit the area we were in. From a way's off down one of the corridors, a series of eerie, echoing footsteps was heard, almost on cue. We were the last group of the night, so there shouldn't have been anyone else down there. Everyone laughed, but even our guide seemed a little bit spooked at first.

Russell Nash
08-29-2010, 01:29 PM
Gibraltar Point Lighthouse - Friends of Toronto Islands (http://www.torontoislands.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=40&lang=en)

Gibraltar Point lighthouse ghost - CBC Archives (http://archives.cbc.ca/lifestyle/pastimes/clips/1954/)

08-29-2010, 09:30 PM
Memorable anecdote by Stephen King about a discussion he had with Stanley Kubrick about ghosts:

Stephen King remembers Stanley Kubrick - YouTube

08-30-2010, 10:48 AM
When I was younger I lived in a house in which I had a couple of pretty strange experiences. Were they supernatural experiences? I don't know. But I surely don't know how to explain them.

The first experience took place when I went indoors from the garden to fetch a pair of scissors for my mother. I believed the house was empty of people at the time, so I was surprised to see the distinct form of a male figure from behind entering the living room. I went into the living room to say hello, as I thought maybe my brother had come home early, but there was nobody present. There were no other points of exit from the room, so I would have seen the figure had he left the room. I called out throughout the house to make sure that nobody else was home, and I received no answer.

The second experience is not visual, but auditory. I was coming home from school one day, and as usual, I was the first person home. Upon unlocking the door I heard the sound of my musical jewelry box playing upstairs. It was very unsettling, because the box would not play unless it was opened. Even had I left the box open in the morning (which I hadn't), the music would have stopped playing by the time I got home from school, as the music worked on a wind up mechanism, and so would have stopped after about 10 minutes or so. I couldn't bring myself to enter the house from fear, and so waited on the front steps until somebody else came home.

Russell Nash
08-30-2010, 12:45 PM
The first experience took place when I went indoors from the garden to fetch a pair of scissors for my mother. I believed the house was empty of people at the time, so I was surprised to see the distinct form of a male figure from behind entering the living room. I went into the living room to say hello, as I thought maybe my brother had come home early, but there was nobody present. There were no other points of exit from the room, so I would have seen the figure had he left the room. I called out throughout the house to make sure that nobody else was home, and I received no answer.

My parents' house had two floors, and just one washroom which was downstairs. The bedrooms were upstairs. Downstairs we also had a living room with a problem with the electrical connection, and therefore the light was always off. One night, when coming down to the washroom, having at that age that strange habit of turning all the lights on, I saw a person sitting down on a chair looking at me, in the living room. I just kept looking at him till the last second when I turned my head to a side to find a switch on the wall, in the adjoining room. When I turned my eyes back to the chair, it was empty. Obviously I had thought that my father was sitting there but the chair was empty, and after verifying it, the rest of the floor was empty as well. My family was sleeping upstairs. Just to prove myself something, I turned the switch off again in the adjoining room, But didn't see this man again. The following days, at daytime, I closed the windows in both rooms, leaving both rooms in the dark. But I didn't see any human shape, or anything reflected by the dim light coming through the closed shutters. Although, I kept trying, even years later, and out of curiosity, I've never seen that human shape ever again. The person was a middle aged man, wearing a hat, similar to my own father who that night was sleeping upstairs. I always attributed this experience to fear. My habit of turning all the lights on is a proof of my fear (at that age) of being in dark places. It is after so many many years my only logical explanation. However, now, at my age, I have that feeling of being at peace in dark places.

Russell Nash
09-06-2010, 07:44 PM
Unexplained Mysteries :: Paranormal Image Gallery - Ghosts & Spirit Forms/Hippolyte Baraduc, 1907 (http://www.unexplained-mysteries.com/gallery/displayimage.php?album=11&pos=254)


Russell Nash
09-07-2010, 10:56 PM
Last year, I went back to my city, in a suburban area, around Buenos Aires. Business reason. In fact, I'm living in Toronto, time flies, and for 6 years I didn't have much time to visit my own country. In 2003 my mother died, and she was buried in a cemetery in my city. After 6 years, I decided to go back, do my business, and see my mother's tomb. In fact, both of my parents, were placed in the same lot, which was my mother's last wish. The cemetery is not far from my city, but it is very complicated to get there indeed. I took 3 buses. Imagine 2 hours, on different buses, on a hot summer day. Before taking the last bus, I bought a bottle of beer (300 ml or so) and a 1 l juice package, and 2 peaches. I watched a film "Gadjo Dilo", and I was about to end a chapter of my life, following the same idea. TUTTI FRUTTI TEKELAS (tequelas), - GADJO DILO ROMANY VIDEO SUPER! - YouTube I ate both peaches waiting for the bus. I drank some juice. Then I took the bus, and within half an hour, I was at the cemetery. My idea was to open the bottle of beer by my mother's tomb and dance around it, symbolically, not with music or anything like that. The cemetery is quite big, two blocks perhaps. Although, I knew the number of the lot, well, signs do not explain much, and no employee was there to tell me where she was. It was going to be my only opportunity, next day I had to leave my country, to see her tomb, and I thought, no matter what, I have to find it. But I didn't. I went around asking a few other visitors, who didn't know much either. You know, one knows the position of a tomb by heart, and nothing else. I went around the cemetery two times, without finding anything; so many tombs. Then, I thought, "if there are maybe 10,000 tombs, just forget about it". I kept going around, with no luck. All of a sudden, I heard a noise, the bottle of beer, somehow, cut the plastic bag open, and fell down. The bottle broke in a thousand fragments. I cursed my bad luck, but because I like science fiction, I said to myself, what if...? You probably guess. And, yes, within a distance of 15 m, I found my mother's tomb. For those like me, who do not believe in God, or the existence of anything supernatural, it would be very easy to explain, but it is not. On the contrary, the bottle was in the plastic bag, on the bus with me, for about 30 minutes and nothing happened, not even when I went around the cemetery two times, but finally it fell down so close to her tomb, Coincidence...? Well, to be a coincidence, this incident has to be explained mathematically like this, I take the same bus, at the same hour, the same season, weather condition, etc., with the same juice package and bottle of beer, I go around the cemetery a few times, following the same path, and I see how many times nothing happens with the bag. If I reproduce, more or less, the same conditions and this incident happens 5 % of the times, I would say, well, it happens, but if it never or rarely happens, is it still a coincidence? So many people who heard my story asked me, to refute what I was saying, why did it fall so close but no on her tomb? Or what would you think if it would have fallen outside the cemetery, or on the bus? As I said to them, true, but it didn't happen that way. I did the trip once, and the bottle fell down, the liquid splashed on the floor. Coincidence? What evidence do I have that it was a coincidence, and nothing more?

J B Marcus
12-12-2013, 04:01 AM
A strange experience happened to me when I was in my mid-twenties. My girlfriend at the time, believed she was sensitive to things of a spiritual nature. I thought that sort of spiritual stuff was either a figment of the imagination or just some con-trick.

I was working in the maintenance department of a factory and we had an electric clock system that was operated from one central clock in the reception area. On this particular day, at precisely ten minutes past twelve, the clocks throughout the factory stopped. My supervisor tried to restart the main clock but couldn’t get it to work, no matter what. At this point - and I really can’t explain this - I knew I had to see my girlfriend.

She lived in a small village a good ten miles away from the factory and I couldn't drive back then. Somehow, I managed to convince my boss that I had to leave work straight away but assured him I'd make the time up the following day. I walked from the factory to the outskirts of town and then took a country road leading to where my girlfriend lived.

A short distance along the road, a car pulled over and the driver asked if I needed a lift. Perhaps he knew the buses weren’t very regular at this time of the day or maybe he was just a good Samaritan; either way it seemed right to accept his offer. The journey didn't take very long and he soon dropped me at the flat my girlfriend was renting. I knocked on her front door several times and when she finally opened it she seemed confused, and had a nasty red burn on her left forearm. I asked if she was okay, but she just stumbled back into the living room and collapsed on the sofa.

After a short while, she'd recovered sufficiently to tell me that she’d been ironing in the living room when she felt an erie sensation that someone was in the flat with her. At that point, she accidentally caught her arm with the iron and fell back in shock. That’s when she saw an overweight, bald, middle-aged man, sitting in the corner of the room staring at her. Within seconds he'd simply disappeared. I calmed her down and reassured her it was probably caused by the shock of the burn. I stayed with her that night, but I didn’t dare mention to her that the man who gave me the lift was overweight, bald, and middle-aged.

Of course, it could have been sheer coincidence that the descriptions matched, but what I couldn't explain was that other than asking if I wanted a lift, there was no conversation between us during the journey. Then I realised that I hadn't even told him where to drop me off. He already knew.

12-12-2013, 09:05 PM
I’ve had 2 experiences of the ‘strange’ kind. One so outrageous and sad, it can only be explained by a combination of wildly improbable coincidences. I don’t care to write about that one but the other—

It was a dark and stormy night. Not really. It was a cold winter’s night. Even better for the kind of thing I’m about to describe, though at time I was hardly appreciative of atmospheric touches. I worked third shift at a rehabilitation facility for troubled youths and disabled adults. The nights were either totally uneventful or nightmares from Hell. I worked the Dorm and supervised 20 or so charges on the guy’s side. My supervisor, a good, kind hearted woman, tough as nails, who could face any punk with a knife in his hand and, one way or another Deal With The Situation, had about the same number of girls and women on her side of the building. We shared the same office as well as countless cups of coffee.
I was married then. Around four in the morning, my wife called. She was a smart, level-headed woman never given to hysteria, and she sounded genuinely frightened. Something, she said, was throwing itself against the side of our house. She wondered if a bear would do something crazy as that. The ‘attacks’ had happened three times and each time the house had shuddered terribly.
We lived in a Cape Cod-style house at a beautiful lake in northeast Pa., about 16 miles outside of Scranton. Back in the early 70’s Lake Winola was pretty desolate; the townies had left their beautiful homes and only a handful of people remained all year long. You could count them on the fingers of a careless carpenter.
My supervisor told me just Go. I knew she’d be fine. And I didn’t have to wake up my people until 6:30 so…I got in my car and was speeding home.
When I got there I left the headlights on, took a crowbar and a flashlight from the trunk and I tried to recall what little I knew about bears. It seemed to strain credulity that I would run into one but strange things do happen. It was a freezing cold night. Any bear out of hibernation was going to be sick, hungry or out of the Twilight Zone. I walked around the side of the house where the attacks seemed to come from, hoping I wasn’t going to run into something really nuts. I was in pretty decent shape then but I knew that would count for nothing if I ran into an unfriendly bruin.
I saw nothing.
After a couple of walks around the entire ground I went in. Debbie told me there had been nothing further since she called me. I stayed there for half an hour. By that time she was back to her adorable tough-minded state. So after one more go round outside, I went back, thanked my supervisor, and woke up my charges to the sound of their familiar good-natured obscenities.
Next day I inspected the side of the house and found no evidence of damage of any sort. And at this point the entire episode would have been mentally filed under Unexplained Occurrences …if not for an incident a few years later.
I was under the crawlspace of the house, doing some minor work, and I just happened to notice one of the massive supports—built of cinder blocks and cement—had fallen victim to the extremes of weather over the many years. There was a hairline crack but enough to move the top half of the support more than a quarter of an inch. And in that moment I knew exactly what my wife had experienced. It must have moved 3 times. A house 'settling'. The oldest explanation for spooky sounds in the night but rather extreme sounds in this case. .
Well, that explained it all. But that night will always be a memorable one for me.

Mr. D.
12-14-2013, 09:51 PM
I wish that my experiences were half as interesting as some of the other reports listed above, but they are not. Even though they involve real ghosts they are very dull and matter-of-fact.
When I was very young my father worked with a man who lived in the old General John Neville house about 5 miles south of Pittsburgh, PA on Chartiers Creek. t was built around 1790. The man and his family lived there for about 10 or 15 years. The wife was some kind of descendant of Neville's and maybe she inherited the house. I think that the couple divorced and I believe that her grandmother moved in.
I was very young, as were the couple's children. My siblings and I visited several times over a period of about 5 years. I can't remember their names, but I think that the man's drinking ruined the marriage, so I wouldn't use names anyway.
In one bedroom of the house, which was pretty much unchanged from about 1850, we could see the outline of an old woman rocking in a rocking chair. The chair could have been from before 1800, as the whole house was full of antiques. (We children weren't allowed to touch anything.) We could just make her out in dim light. The chair rocked on its own. There was no draft and the building was as solid as could be. But there was the outline of the little old lady in the rocking chair.
In the cellar, before we turned on the light, there was the outline of a man at the bottom step. He was a little harder to see, but we all saw him. He just stood there. He disappeared in the electric light.
The thing that impressed us all the most was the cold spot. it was at the top of the cellar stairs in the hallway. It was roughly cylindrical and measured about two feet wide by about four feet tall. You could put a thermometer in it and the temperature would drop 20 degrees. We used to do that until we got bored.
The family put in gas and electricity and a modern kitchen when they moved in. This was before we visited. maybe there had been more ghosts. At night, with the lights off in the front of the house, which had not been altered, glowed faintly. It was not streetlights. It was an inner light coming out. even at 6 years old I didn't run into any furniture.
The house is now restored to 1792 Period authenticity. I don't know what that did to the ghosts. My mother told me that Duke University "authenticated" the house. his would have been probably before 1960. These manifestations were not scary, even to children. We were actually more impressed witth he Conestoga wagon in front of the house and the weir in Chartiers Creek next to the property.

Mr. D.
12-15-2013, 05:55 PM
I have to admit that I am a little surprised. Yesterday I shared a part of my youth. This is a discussion that asked if anyone had ever seen a ghost. I have seen two. The Neville house was not haunted. I think that the correct term was that it had "Presences." I saw them, my brother saw them, three of my sisters saw them my parents saw them and all of the members of the family that lived in the house - adult and child - saw them. I have no idea what I saw but it was as real as the table on which my computer stands.
From my experience it appears that at least some ghosts are a part of us that stays behind. Maybe just living for decades in a place causes us to impart some of our energy. I expected a lot of discussion.
I thought that someone would say, "That's great! They do exist." I didn't even get a, "You're full of it. I don't believe a word you say." Maybe no one is all that interested in ghosts. If anyone follows up on this I'd love to see a copy of the Duke University report.

12-15-2013, 10:05 PM
Mr. D., I don't doubt your story in the least and I find it quite interesting. Thanks for sharing it.

Many, many years ago my wife and I (she's mentioned in my post below) both had an experience that still troubles me. I don't believe in ghosts or supernatural phenomena in any form and I can't accept any explanations involving them. I don't, and won't, talk about it, although my ex (we've remained good friends through the years) and I sometimes refer to it. It had an element of unbearable sadness in it--for me, at least, less so for Debbie. There was absolutely nothing frightening about it. Quite the opposite, if I could believe it.
It would be easier for me to accept the possibility of a collective hallucination to explain what we saw or thought we saw--though I believe 'collective hallucinations' to be nonsense as well.

And that is why I don't doubt you in the least. I don't believe in ghosts or after-images or whatever...but sometimes it seems there are things that we experience and can't easily explain. I don't believe they are supernatural; but I have no explanation for them.
In my case, as I've mentioned previously, a "number of wild and improbable coincidences" may simply have come into play. Apart from a lingering sadness, there was nothing traumatic about it. As you've no doubt guessed, it involved someone I had loved dearly . And there's no real need to discuss it in greater detail.

Speaking Mute
12-16-2013, 02:46 AM
I've never had any supernatural experiences. I've had some rather vivid nightmares and hypnagogic hallucinations - but I suppose that's best reserved for another thread. I have, however, encountered some extremely bizarre and uncanny people during my homeless periods, and many of these encounters read very much like traditional ghost stories. I had an ex-girlfriend (who has since passed on) who was an heroin addict - she would often run off to Detroit due to both heroin and the financial means to acquire it being readily available there. I would recklessly follow after her to try to get her off the streets and back home. On some nights I worked up the nerve to simply leave her to her misery. One particular night, after she had been acting particularly crazy, I did just that - the trouble was that by the time I reached this point it was well after midnight. I had stranded myself in the Michigan-Livernois area with no cash for a cab or an ATM card to get cash. My only means home was to wait until morning, walk downtown, and (hopefully) cash a personal check at my bank. It was late summer, but it was unseasonably cold and raining intermittently. I wandered about for an hour or so until I ran into an "acquaintance" heading home from his job at a local car wash - he said if I needed a place to sleep, there was an closed down men's shelter on Michigan Ave. where a lot of people lodged if they had no place to go.

The place was easy enough to find; it was a giant Edwardian house with crumbling cement steps and the remnants of a wooden porch. Modern steel doors had been installed, but it was a cheap job - it looked as if someone had ripped out the front wall with a tow truck and dropped a prefabricated wall in its place. The steel doors were open. I entered. I ran immediately into a blank wall that extended into a narrow hallway- the former residence had been fully converted to a commercial facility. There was obviously no electricity, but the rooms adjacent to the street soaked up enough ambient light that I could see well enough. The inner rooms, however, were pitch black, their doors more like black velvet squares than actual openings. I avoided the inner doors, but investigated the street-side rooms I passed. Each room had one or two people in it - some standing, some sitting, some laying down. They were essentially silhouettes against the walls and floors, one or two accompanied by an orange will-o-wisps as they smoked; none of them acknowledged my presence or even made a sound. Of course, I didn't try to engage them in conversation either - there was a mutual assumption of safety in silence.

When I finally found an unoccupied room it was completely barren except for a couch stripped of its cushions. I lied down on the couch and tried to make the best of it, using my backpack as a pillow. Every so often I saw a human shape pass by the door. At one point a man leaned through the door - I couldn't see his face or body - just his t-shirt and baseball cap. I sat up and he immediately retreated into the hallway - again, not making a sound.

I woke up the next morning to a heavy rain. I went out into the hallway; all the rooms I passed by the previous night were empty. To my surprise the inner rooms were actually a single, large meeting room with several doors. The floor was carpeted with discarded clothes, papers, and magazines, but a relatively clean looking couch - with cushions - sat in the dead center of the room. It faced the opposite wall, where an open basement-style window running along the ceiling let water cascade down a beard of black mold. I went in and sat down to wait out the rain. Every so often I'd hear footsteps in the hallway; I'd turn around just in time to see a shadow moving past the last room's door. A few times, however, the footsteps would stop and I'd see a black sliver hover at the door. I'd stare at the door for a moment, catching only the suggestion of a person peeking back at me - but then they or I would lose interest. I'd turn around and they'd continue on there way, much the way mice scurry off when they know you're not looking. I stopped looking backwards after a bit, occupying myself with this or that magazine I'd pick up off the floor. I sat there for an indeterminate amount of time - an hour I think, but maybe two or three. The whole time the only human sound I heard, aside from the footsteps, was one spat of muffled coughing from upstairs or outside. I left the house, which probably had at least a dozen other transients sheltering there, without clearly seeing or speaking to anyone else. Nothing supernatural, but the paranoia and behavior was so far outside regular social norms that it was otherworldly enough for me.

05-24-2014, 05:52 PM
I believe that a person who has clearly seen a manifestation of the supernatural, that is not ambiguous, will not tell others about it. He/she will keep it to himself/herself. Because the experience has truly cut off his identity and isolated him from his fellow humans. It is an experience he will have to carry alone and secretly. Because others will not be able to give him understanding, empathy, and support (except as a superficial act). Instead he will be met with dumbfounderment, people will find him odd, even mad in his insistence and reassurance, and they will simply be uncomfortable by it.

05-24-2014, 11:33 PM
I was lying down on the floor in my room taking a nap. I then had a "paralysis sleep" or hypnagogic sleep. I would hear footsteps and a great feeling of dread. I looked at my door and saw the silhouette of a black figure. I started having foreboding thoughts about looking into its face. However, I failed and when I saw "its" face, my vision zoomed into "it", and I felt as if I experienced the universe all at once. It was truly frightening, and I screamed with terror within myself.

Another time, it appeared again in the same place. This time I averted my gaze, but it moved in a undulating fashion towards my back. I began having unintentional hateful, threatening thoughts towards it, and then I saw a kind of "Milky Way looking portal" open up in my back. I felt as if it was fusing with me while my mind kept automatically thinking hateful thoughts such as, "I want to kill you! Go away!"

The final time I felt its presence happened while I was thinking about a souvenir my friend gave me: an ammonite. My friend is very quixotic, and he uses the ammonite stone as a metaphor for the infinity inherent in meaning and universe. While thinking about the symbolic value of his gift, I fell asleep on my back, this time lying on bed, with my hand outstretched. The figure felt like it came again and handed me an item that felt like a black obsidian... or perhaps something else. This was the strangest...

I had a similar experience in the last home we lived in. I was going by the cellar door and I thought I glimpsed a hooded figure walking by the stairs which then stopped. I had an overwhelming feeling of dread, and what felt like a warning NOT to look down the stairs. I was frozen to the spot and saw in my minds eye what appeared to be an old crone in a hooded cloak. As my mind focused on the hood I realized that there was no face but a glimpse of a great mad void with stars scattered in darkness where the face would be. I knew that to look into that face would be to give myself over to unimaginable suffering. I left the house, and we moved soon after, though not for reasons having anything to do with this experience.

05-26-2014, 11:41 AM
The one thing about this experience that I've unintentionally omitted is that the hooded figure and its "face" was so devoid of even the slightest suggestion of "life" that the impression was chilling to the core. A stone has more life, because at least at some point it shared its existence with the living. This thing and life could not exist on the same plane, but if it did the inevitable result was the annihilation of life.