Have you ever seen anything creepy?

So..was fishing a trout stream. I made my way down the slippery rocks like a cat after a mouse, dancing from wet slippery stone to stone, and balancing on large snot-slick roots. I make my way down about a quarter of a mile. I find myself a nice deep shelf of water, and start throwing out my line. Once, twice, third cast..nothing. About the fourth and fifth casts, i start getting bored and so decide to look around at the flowering laurels. About forty to sixty yards away, up on a high rock shelf, is a slight but hidden trail over looking the river. Standing at the head of the trail was a weird looking scare crow (or some nut dressed like one lol). The trail was far back in there, and there was sure as snot no garden around. Guess maybe someone was trying to keep the trout eating rabbits and crows away 8-p.
 
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I've thoroughly enjoyed reading the many stories in this thread and would like to thank those who have shared their experiences with the rest of us. Not only are such tales entertaining; they give me pause for thought as I reflect upon my own experiences throughout life.

With that in mind I'll share one of my more easily explained experiences. While it is largely dissimilar to most of the stories told thus far, the unknown sense that I believe we all have does play a roll in this particular story. I have other, less explainable, experiences as well, but for now I'll leave them for another day. (I have my reasons for that – some of which have to do with responses that were less than polite, and extremely judgmental, in light of the fact that the respondents had absolutely no basis for the assumptions (they) made.)

The first 14 years of my life were spent living on a farm; with my remaining childhood years spent living in a very small town still dominated by farming. In fact I still worked on a farm, while living in town, and was every bit the typical farm kid growing up in the mid-west.

In my later twenties I received an ultimatum from the woman I was living with: move, with her, to New Jersey or she'd move without me. Like a fool I chose to move with her; despite the fact that I had no job prospects and knew absolutely nobody in New Jersey.

Luck was on my side though, as my experience in the beverage industry landed a job as the regional manager for a fairly large soft drink manufacturer/distributor. The company had its own proprietary brands, as well as multiple contracted brands (primarily from Caribbean nations) that allowed us to do a very brisk business in the various inner-city areas.

To that point in time I had never been in an inner-city area, let alone spending considerable amounts of time working in such areas.

I was cautious and more than a bit appalled by what I routinely saw while working in those areas, but naive enough to have no fear while working areas that very much reminded me of hell - after it had been through a major bombing campaign.

My company car looked every bit the unmarked police vehicle and I found great amusement in the fact that the locals would frequently take off running, while yelling “5-O”, when I pulled up to the corner bodega and got out of my car. Many of my employees thought I was nuts and told me that I had a death wish – that I simply had no idea of how many times I was covered by multiple guns aimed my way, while talking business in a bodega that was nothing more than a front for drugs.

I laughed it all off and got used to the sidewalks covered in empty crack-viles, the crunching sound they made as I walked the sidewalks, the people mistaking me for a cop, and the numerous looks of sheer hatred that were frequently tossed my way. I was used to my drivers being paid with nothing but $5 bills (the going price for a vile of crack) and was accustomed to being the only white guy – save the occasional cop – in the area.

One day I asked one of my employees (he was from one of the areas we sold a lot of soft drinks) why nobody had bothered me, why people ran while yelling “5-O” and why so many of the locals seemed to hate my guts. I had thought I was left alone because so many thought I was a cop. I was wrong. My employee explained that they ran, while yelling “5-O” because they thought I was a cop and the locals hated me because they thought I was a cop, but being a cop wasn't what had prevented them from harming me. What had kept me from harm was a combination of my size, the fact that I was white and showed no fear – making the locals unsure of what I was capable of – and that I just looked mean. It also helped that I always wore cowboy boots – something not really seen in those areas – and that odd quirk, coupled with the rest, made them think I was dangerous.

The truth is that I was naive – a country bumpkin out of place and too ignorant to understand how much danger I was in, or why.

The owner of the company asked me to work with the sales people in Brooklyn for several days. I wasn't too worried, at the time anyway, because the NY salespeople all seemed to think the areas in NJ (that I routinely worked in) were much worse than anything they had seen in New York, so I figured it wouldn't be too bad at all.

My salesman parked his car down the street and we walked to a little bodega that was a couple of doors down from the corner. Right in front of the bodega was a car with a man – probably in his late 50's – just sitting in the passenger seat. The day was beautiful, a warm late spring day, and I figured the guy was just enjoying the weather while the driver ran errands. Still, something seemed a bit off to me – I just couldn't figure it out.

The area was called Bed-Sty – not a nice place, but it didn't seem as bad as other areas I had been to. Besides, I was with my salesman this time, so it wasn't just some white guy out and about on his own.

We were nearly done with our sales call, up near the counter finalizing the last few details on the order.

The front door opened and I nearly laughed out loud.

There was a young boy – probably 14 or so – standing there wearing a ski-mask and holding, what I thought was, a toy gun that was pointed directly at me. He was scared. I don't know how I knew that, but I instinctively knew he was absolutely terrified. I'd say he was 15 feet from me and I don't think anyone else noticed him (two customers, the owner, or my salesman).

Suddenly the door opened again and in stepped another guy wearing a ski-mask. He too held a gun that was pointed directly at me. This one was older; probably in his late teens or early twenties and he wasn't scared at all.

He had done this before. I knew that instantly, but I can't say why I knew that. It was just obvious.

His gun was definitely real. I could plainly see the gaping hole and his finger tight on the trigger. I knew he intended to shoot me and probably everyone else.

The older guy walked up to me and put the barrel of his gun right on my temple, then told me to stop looking looking at them and to get down of the ground.

He asked me if I was a cop.

I told him that I wasn't.

He asked again, several times.

I kept telling him I wasn't.

He then told his partner to go through my pockets. I was face-down on the floor. The younger guy held his gun to the back of my head and began reaching in my left front pocket. He found nothing and began reaching in my left front pocket again.

The older guy asked me where my money was and if I had a gun.

I told him my money was in my right front pocket and that I did not have a gun

The younger guy went through my left front pocket again – finding nothing.

The older guy asked in a more menacing tone (“where is your money”?)

I told him “my other right front pocket.”

The younger guy finally searched the right-front pocket and found my money. He took my money and was told to search the other people.

The older guy stood near my head and I assume he had his gun pointed at me, as he seemed very concerned with me.

Once the younger guy was done taking money from the others, the older guy told him to take the money from the register.

The older guy had me stand up an face away from him. His gun was pressed into the back of my head and he told the others to stay as they were. He then told me to walk slowly to the back room – as he followed with the gun pressed into the back of my head.

I knew he was planning to kill me – I could feel it in every fiber of my being.

The older robber wasn't scared, his gun didn't shake in the slightest. I got the picture that he was enjoying himself – bossing a much stronger and much bigger man around.

I told myself that the pain would be immense and that I'd likely lose my sight immediately. I pictured his exact location in my mind and steadied myself to grab his throat so as to crush his windpipe and take him with me.

I felt no fear – none whatsoever. There was some anger I'm sure, but the overwhelming emotion running through me was determination – take him with me. I knew I'd have a second, maybe two, to lock my hand on his throat and crush it with all my might – then it would be over and my pain would be gone.

I was in the back room; alone with the older robber and his gun was pressed tightly against the back of my head. I don't know how long it was like that; just him and I waiting for that moment when everything will change. It seemed like a long time, but it probably wasn't.

My thoughts were more clear than they've ever been. I could hear everything – the ticking of some clock, his breathing, the traffic outside. I could feel the blood pumping through my body, my muscles tensing for action.

I heard a woman sobbing softly, then steps coming nearer to the back room

The younger kid's voice told the others to get inside the back room and the older guy moved his gun away from my head. I saw him grab the phone cord and slash down with his gun in an effort to break the cord. He did this several times without success.

I know then that we were going to live.

I offered to break the phone cord for him, so they'd leave before they changed their minds again. I grabbed the cord and easily broke it with my hands – I saw the look of surprise in the older guy's eyes and then he left, telling us not to come out until they were gone.

The woman was crying hard as she begged me, in broken English, not to leave the backroom. She was afraid that they'd come back and kill us all.

I went outside. The guy was still sitting there in the passenger seat – window down, just enjoying the day.

I went to the payphone and called the police.

They were there in a few minutes and didn't seem to think it was a big deal (since nobody was physically harmed).

That shocked me.

The guy in the passenger seat – windows open, sitting a few feet from the front door – saw absolutely nothing.

That did not surprise me at all.

Later that day I was afraid. My fear came long after the events had transpired.

I don't know why – the danger had passed – and I was safe.

I think maybe it's because I would have killed them both if given the opportunity.

That was nearly 3 decades ago. I'm sure the older robber is either dead or long locked up in prison. It wasn't his first rodeo and it would only be a matter of time before someone did what I was going to do.

I'm glad that I don't have to live with it.
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Hi. Very entertaining stories, I enjoyed them all. It took few evenings to read the whole thread, but was good reading! Some of them are so very well written, they can stand alone as short tales in a book, really :thumbup:. Thanks to all who shared their experiences and stories.

I very rarely get the “feeling” when out in the wilderness. Quite the opposite, actually. Don’t want to sound “New Age” here :D, but I feel a sort of “benign presences” when entering a forest or climbing up the mountains. A kind of enhanced “peace of mind” and physical wellbeing. I really feel better, sort of “cleansed” and “purer” :cool:. Trees, flowers, rocks, brooks, they all seem to welcome me. Even when alone on an over-night. When the darkness comes and I set up my camp, I know I will not be alone, rather surrounded by living beings, harmful or not only depending on my behaviors; but in no way evil. Animals and wild creatures have never been a problem for me. Bugs are quite annoying anyway :D. I spray some repellent, keep a good fire going and always carry some fireworks with me (pretty nasty banging stuff). Only once, when camping, I had to lit up one, it was to move a heard of wild boars coming too close (my mistake, I set the tent too close to a stream and didn’t dispose properly the food leftover ). Of course, several nights, when camping, I didn’t really manage to sleep, due to the many strange sounds from the woods. But I never felt evil presences in the nature, really. I had though a bad experience with stray dogs once, when out running in the fields. That was scary. They circled me, growling fiercely. I was scared but I reacted. I started to throw stones, clods of dirt and to vawe menacingly the stalk of a corn plant, while retreating slowly. They let me go without attacking. I think I was lucky. I always bring a pepper spray with me since then.

Fortunately still, where I live, only certain type of people have as hobby hiking out in the nature, trekking and climbing and definitely are the real “good guys”. Never heard of hikers/campers being robbed at gunpoint by thugs or drifters in the mountains. Sure enough some weirdo is always around. I was 17 and hiking with a friend. At dusk, we decided to set up a tarp, pull out the mats and sleeping bags and start a fire in a wide clearing where some sheep and goats were grazing. We both soon had the "feeling" and started to be very attentive, scanning the treeline. 30 minutes later, a “crazy shepherd” came out from the woods, screaming at us and menacing us with his walking stick and his biiiig sheepdog barking. When things got too hot, I pulled out my Wetterlings and asked if we could have a civil conversation instead. He flew, we moved our camp and… they lived happily ever after.

Sadly enough, I get the “feeling” only in urban areas and mainly about people. I never had the proof that the “feeling” was right, but, based on that, I move myself and my family away from specific individuals or groups of people and get in the alarm mode. Sometimes, when it’s about people, it’s pretty obvious (thugs-like types), sometimes really not (harmless middle aged ladies, business men, repair men, etc.). I maintain the majority of fellow human beings are good and well intentioned people but, contrary to animals, some humans are evil and cruel.

When the “feeling” it’s about things happening, it’s blurrier. One story: I remember many years ago we were to a late afternoon party with my wife and my elderly kid that, at that time, was only 2 ½ years old. It was rather crowded but very relaxed atmosphere, nice place with a park, music and buffet tables with food and drinks. I had a couple of glasses of wine, chatting and mingling, letting my child play but always keeping an eye on him and being always less than 10 meters away. I started to have the “feeling”. What’s up now? What can be wrong here? – I asked myself. I start scanning the place and people but I know the country club and no real strangers there! My wife calls me to greet friends and I have my child of out sight for maybe 3 minutes. The “feeling” gets sharper, I enter the alarm mode and I go looking for him. Not where he was playing before, I keep scanning around a couple of minutes when I spot him standing close to a buffet table, kind of standing still, gasping. I approach him, he’s red in the face, not breathing. All slows down. I see him, quickly assess him, people around chat and move like in slow-mo; I hear the waiters chit-chat, hear the clinking of glasses, the laughter. I scan the table and spot a stainless steel bowl full of cherry toms. I grab him, turn him upside down and do the Heimlich maneuver. An intact cherry tom darts out. He’s crying. I hug and comfort him. Things regain their speed. No one really noticed anything.

The “feeling” for me it starts like the time and the pace of happenings slow down. It’s not fear, not yet. It can become fear, though. I am becoming extremely attentive at the “big picture” of what’s going on, but details get so vivid, the noises and sounds are incredibly clear, I feel like in an hyper-surveillance mode. It doesn’t last long, maybe few minutes. I am compelled to do something. I cannot ignore it. Really, most of the time, now in my adult age, it’s just to move away from something or someone. As a kid, I picked up few fights instead, to defend myself or just not to "give ground"... kids... :D

I think there is no magic in the “feeling”. It’s one of the oldest, primitive instinct we have. I think it’s the fight or flight response, a physiological reaction that occurs in response to a perceived harmful event, attack, or threat to survival. It’s pretty well known and “scientifically” explained. Also animals have one. I believe we humans have a more complex one, though. It’s our brain getting a number of inputs from the environment and processing those at the speed of the light. We are maybe not conscious about it but we get an output that something “it’s just not right”. Maybe it’s just a kind of unconscious situational awareness. Without “intentional” efforts, our brain have the ability to process billions of inputs and maintain a constant, clear mental picture of relevant information and the tactical situation including friendly and threat situations as well as the surrounding environment (terrain, weather, etc.). Whatever it is, it helps a lot :).
 
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My grandfather was a deacon at his local church, as his casket was being lowered in the grave there was music being played (rather loudly). I was in my mid 20s and standing around the outer ring of people at the services. I clearly heard a low continued growling coming from directly behind me. I turned around and looked thinking that a dog had come up behind us, nothing.
Later on when I mentioned it to my older sister she had said she heard it too and had dug her finger nails into her husband's arm.
That's what I got. Everything else involves drugs
 
Bear scat on the trail in the Appalachians I was on Tuesday. It was fairly fresh as there was a very hard storm about 36 hours before. Makes your ears perk up.

Bear%2520Scat%2520Bear%2520Chrurch%2520Rock%25206.30.15.JPG
 
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I was bird hunting in Alaska and walked to a copse of trees to see what I could flush. Now, I am no tenderfoot in the woods. It had gotten a slight bit foggy that early morning and as I neared the stand of trees I saw an uprooted tree underneath the others. However, my hair started standing up for a reason I could not fathom. So, knowing I needed to pay attention to such things, I quietly retreated. Later in the day, after joining my fellow hunters, I went back to that stand of trees. The uprooted tree was gone. It had been a very large bear, standing perfectly still, waiting on me.
 
Bear scat on the trail in the Appalachians I was on Tuesday. It was fairly fresh as there was a very hard storm about 36 hours before. Makes your ears perk up.

I came across all of this bear crap one day this May. Nothing unusual about it other than there was a lot, enough to fill a bushel basket.

11265579_1435141546787521_5375470760109799395_n.jpg


So what was the bear eating to create soooo much crap in one place?
















Another bear of course. :barf:
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I have enjoyed this thread since its inception. I live in a small town in north central Kansas. Highway 24 runs east/west thru town. The highway goes over the Republican River and up a hill on the west side of the river basin. I had/have noticed a small cemetery on the north side of the highway on the knoll as you crest the hill. It sets back off the highway and is very easy to miss if you do not know its there. I was headed back into town one afternoon in the late fall. I had been out on one of our jobsites - must have been around 5 - getting dark, leaves blowing across the highway, bit of mist in the air. My wife was out of town with the kids, and as I approached the river, I thought "what the heck, no reason to hurry home, I'll pull in and take a look at that old graveyard". Pulled in and parked, got out and walked up to take a peek. Its a really old graveyard. There are no new monuments - most were/are old marble and very worn. It was dark enough that I could not read any of the inscriptions. I noticed several rows with a number of very small stones. All the while, there was a very dissettling feeling developing. I looked around, it had gotten dark, the wind had come up even more and there was some sleet developing and I said " to heck with this" and got out of there. It really did feel like I was being watched as I left. Everybody has heard about the spooky old graveyard and I had just experienced one. Still gives me the shivers to think about it.

Fast forward

We have lived here for around 20 years now. As long as we have been here, I have heard about Diphtheria Hill. Rumor is that there was a diphtheria outbreak around the turn of the century and the victims were buried away from the community in a hillside graveyard to prevent contamination. I haven't found any credible accounts as to how many people died in the outbreak, but it is understood that many of the victims were children. Rumors abound that some of the victims were not dead when they were buried. Further rumors have it that you can hear crying children at night when in the graveyard. My kids, when they reached teenage years, had been out there, typically around halloween. My middle daughter told me "yeah, its pretty darn spooky!". I had asked the kids where the graveyard was, but never could get a good description. I always wondered where it was and recently was researching it on the computer one night when I realized that, yep, Diphtheria Hill sits on a knoll on the north side of Highway 24 just west of the river! Google search, its interesting reading.
 
Great thread, everyone. I don't have any stories yet but I'm planning a trip to Temagami (northeast Ontario), an area which is known for its massive magnetic anomaly and numerous bigfoot sightings, so who knows, may see something interesting there. Will also try to locate some meteoric iron while there, although I doubt I'll find anything.
 
I frequently would get woken up into a state of sleep paralysis where it felt like there was something watching me...but there was nothing there. This feeling was often associated with hearing what can only be described as "a thousand tiny voices." I don't know if any of you have ever had this experience but it is quite frightening. It was like I could hear thousands of whisperers all saying the same thing in slightly different voices...sometimes it would be my name, sometimes it would be something like "we can see you", sometimes it would be menacing laughter and one time when I felt particularly threatened it was a thousand screaming voices that were saying GET UP GET UP GET UP. I did not sleep the rest of that night either :rolleyes:

Felt it might be worthwhile to necro this thread to add some advice for anyone else who ever experiences this: Go to a doctor and get tested for seizures. I had a buddy growing up who had epilepsy. Almost every time he suffered a seizure, he'd have bizarre dreams like this. He see weird shapes or colors that would alternate whispering and screaming either his name, or things like 'WAKE UP'.

If you had a mild seizure, you might be more or less awake but unable to move or separate any weird dream state from reality.
 
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