2024 Recap of Listener Experiences: Part 2

Thank you for listening and welcome back. I'm your host, Nick Ryan. Tonight's show will be the last one of the year, but I'll be back in just a few short days with an all new episode. I have so many fascinating topics and experiences that I'm looking forward to sharing with all of you. But first, let's make sure to give this year a proper send off with part two of our 2024 recap. Let's get into it.

The first time it happened, I was sleeping and woke up because I felt a hand on my leg and I realized that I couldn't move. And he'd come across this object on the ground which was the shape of a flying saucer. So he jumped out of his pickup and went down there and there was four beings laying on the ground.

When I raised my head back up, I was turning my head and out of my peripheral vision, I seen something hop to a tree. And it was tall, about seven, eight foot tall, it was black, real hairy, like a gorilla.

Our next encounter comes to us from Tina, and Tina's experience is called, Witches and Tea. Tina says, my experience took place quite a few years ago in Shepherdstown, West Virginia.

There was a t-shop on the corner of the main street that was owned by a delightful English lady named Sharon. Sharon was a tarot card reader and psychic that one of my friends had gone to see once and had a great experience. So when that same friend told me that the t-shop was holding real seances, I knew I had to go.

I had been obsessed with the paranormal since high school, and the shows like ghost hunters and paranormal state just didn't quite fill that need for all things spooky. So, when the next seance was available, I was ready. I was so excited when I arrived, and the tea house was all I needed it to be. It was charming and decorated exactly how a kind English psychic would decorate. There were crystals and interesting books strewn about, as well as old classical furniture.

There was a decent crowd, so after being greeted by the owner, I made my way back to the tables we would be sitting at. And it was here, where I met her. A middle-aged, plump pale woman with long braided brown hair. She had the most gorgeous light eyes that reminded me of a husky when she looked up.

She acknowledged me and then she went back to reading something she had in her hand. I sat across from her, fidgeting in my chair and waiting for the event to get started. I would glance over at the woman and she would be watching the others file in with a tired and bored expression on her face.

She would catch me every once in a while staring at her, and I would quickly look away. There was just something about her that didn't seem okay, and in fact, the more I thought about it, the more her eyes and expression reminded me less of a husky, and more of something... predatory.

I told myself it was just my nerves, and I was being ridiculous. The owner was the sweetest woman, and she wouldn't let anything or anyone bad in, right? I was attending a seance after all, and there were bound to be people in attendance that were not your normal Starbucks crowd. So we all took our places, and the owner, Sharon, explained the rules as she circled the table putting a ring of salt around us. We were never to break the circle, and never crossed the salt, unless things were concluded.

She taught us how to white light and protect ourselves. And then, she began. At first, some people's family members stopped in and said hello, and I was having the time of my life. It seemed 100% legit. People were tearing up, and there was a sense of it just being very good for those that made contact. The guy to my left had obviously been drugged there by his girlfriend and was just miserable, and he didn't believe an ounce of what was going on.

He made little comments under his breath and sighed often. It became pretty clear that the pale lady and Sharon were friends, and she was getting annoyed with the guy for ruining the mood. At one point, the guy let out a noticeable, ugh, really? And it was then that she locked eyes with him. Then, the air started to get heavy, and suddenly the room almost seemed darker.

The owner noticed and started to call out the entity. The smell of wet dog filled the room, and when I looked across at the pale woman, over her left shoulder, stood something. It was between six and seven feet tall, and all I can say is that it was what a werewolf should look like. It was human and canine, perfectly combined, but it was thin and with the most amazing golden eyes.

He then slammed his fist into the wall, and a mirror crashed to the floor. Now this was not a little mirror, but one of those big old heavy ones. It crashed into a million pieces, and I swear, the whole room shook. I screamed and went to run, but the pale woman barked.

Sit down, and involuntarily my butt hit the chair like someone pushed me down. Don't break the circle, she said, with an amused smile. The guy next to me was white as a sheet, and sweating profusely. Everyone else was scared, and the dear owner wrapped things up fairly quickly after that. I don't think she even expected to have wall decorations smashed.

When I was leaving, the pale woman was still sitting at the table and looked up at me, and she asked, everything you wanted, dear? I said, a little more than that, and the woman then chuckled. She looked up at me and said, I up all rudeness, don't you? All I could do was nod.

I don't know if she was a witch or not, but I know the experience I had still raises the hairs on my arms as I typed this. The same T-Shop was featured on a ghost show a few months later, and I can confirm that the strange and unexplained, definitely, went on there. Sadly, the last time I drove by, the T-Shop was gone. I always wondered, what happened?

Tonight's report comes to us from Louise. And Louise's story is called... Am I an abductee? Louise says... Hi, Nick. I just want to start by saying I appreciate you creating a platform where we can share our stories without fear of judgment. Even if we don't have closure by sharing what we've experienced, sometimes it's just nice to get it off our chest in a safe space. So thank you for that.

I suspect that I've been an alien abductee for most of my life, and years ago it all culminated into one experience that finally erased most of my skepticism. I'd like to share the events leading up to that experience before I share it.

When I was around 13, so in 2008 I believe, I saw my first and only UFO. We lived on a farm in rural South Carolina, and it was my turn to feed the horses that evening. The pasture was right behind our house, and as I rounded the side of the house and headed toward the front of the pasture, I noticed five glowing orange orbs floating above the ground in the middle of the pasture.

I'm going to throw out there that I have no concept of distance. I don't know how people see UFOs and confidently declare that it was so-and-so meters long, and this many miles up in the sky. I don't possess that skill, but if I had to guess, I would say the orbs were about 30 to 50 feet off the ground, so not super high up.

Anyway, I don't remember feeling dread or paralyzed with fear. I was just curious. That is, until they started floating toward me. I booked it back around the house and ran straight to my room to look out my window and view them from the safety of my home. But, when I got to the window, there were nowhere to be seen. My family thought that I was crazy, but I knew what I saw.

I'd also like to throw out there that these were not flares. I'm not going to spend a lot of time on that. You'll just have to trust me. I've seen flares, and that's definitely not what these things were. After this experience, the dreams and phobias began. I would dream maybe once a month or so, but sometimes less often about UFOs coming down from the sky.

I would know that they were up there and they were coming for us, but nobody believed me until suddenly some stars would start moving in weird ways. And then they would start to descend toward us. I would feel so much fear that it would wake me up before the craft reached the ground, except in one dream where I did witness it land. It was round but had all kinds of geometric sides with a ton of colorful lights. It's very hard to describe. I wish I could just take the image from my brain and share it with you.

I only saw these beings exit a craft once, and they were very human looking. They landed near the horse pasture in the dream. They had grayish skin with dark hair, and they were all wearing big black sunglasses. In two dreams, I was actually on a craft, but I don't remember much about those dreams no matter how hard I try.

I developed an extreme fear of windows and open doors, and I would sleep completely underneath the blankets at night, even my head. I would make a little breathing hole by my mouth, but that was it. I couldn't even extend my legs and my sleep. I had to sleep on a tight ball and make myself as small as possible. If there was the slightest crack in my blinds or curtains, my chest would feel heavy, and I wouldn't be able to rest.

I slept this way until I married my husband four years ago and felt a little relief for the first time, now that there was someone in the bed with me that I felt safe with. Now, I didn't find this out until years later, but my parents saw several UFOs at night while we lived on that property after my initial sighting. It didn't help that our house was obnoxiously haunted, but that's a different story for a different day.

Eventually, I subconsciously pushed all of this to the back of my mind. I really didn't have it in me to decide if I believed all this or not. I didn't have the energy for it, and the dreams became less frequent. However, about a year after the dreams stopped, I started to see this symbol in my mind's eye. This is where the event comes in that finally made me realize that it wasn't all in my head.

I would be driving, doing the dishes, or just doing something at work, and this symbol would just pop into my mind. It was like it was being inserted into my mind or something. It was very simple, just five black dots in the shape of a triangle.

This went on for a week before I finally started to feel genuinely stressed out by this, and I thought very loudly, I don't want to know who or what is showing me this. You obviously want my attention, so either give me proof that all this is real, or leave me alone. That same night, I was staying at a friend's house. She had big windows all around her room, so I was in hermit crab mode when I went to sleep.

I was curled up in my usual ball, completely under the covers except for my signature breathing hole. At some point in the night, I woke up. I don't know what time it was, just that it was still dark out, except for a bright blue light moving just outside the windows. I remember that so vividly.

I suddenly became aware that I was laying on my back completely straight, legs straight out, my arms straight against my sides, and I was staring straight up at the ceiling, so I was seeing the blue light moving outside the window, from the corner of my eyes. My friend, a 4 foot nothing, 90 pound girl, who definitely couldn't have moved me, especially without waking me up as I'm a light sleeper, was snoring beside me.

Now, I typically suffer from insomnia, and especially if I wake up in the middle of the night, it usually takes me quite a while to get back to sleep. But this night, when I woke up, I became aware of the blue light and my position in the bed, and all I could think was, they just put me back. Then, I blacked out.

The next morning, I woke up around 8 a.m. to a panicky text from my sister, who was living about an hour away from where I'd been staying the night. The text was time stamped around 4 a.m. She said that she'd gone outside to smoke a cigarette before getting ready for her early shift at the local gas station, and when she looked up at the dark sky, she saw a ship hovering above the trees with lights on the bottom.

She ran back inside to grab her phone, but when she got back to the porch, it was gone. She was panicking because she said that when she saw it, all she could think was, my sister is up there. My sister is up there. At this point, she felt a lot of fear because of that.

I saw her later that day and I asked for more details on what she saw, but I already knew what she was going to say. It was a ship, triangle shaped, and it had five lights along the bottom. Needless to say, I got the message loud and clear after that night.

About three years later, I decided to try a hypnotic regression session to see if I could recall what happened to me that night. I won't include that here as this is already pretty long, and I know there's a lot of skepticism around hypnotic regression. Even I, a staunch believer, have taken my memory recall with a grain of salt.

The human mind and memory can be a tricky thing. I'm also happy to share a picture of that symbol that I saw, which I now have tattooed on the back of my neck. Thank you again for all that you do, and for giving me a platform to share my story. If there are others out there like me, I just want them to know that they are not alone, and they aren't crazy.

I also have to add that as I was typing this out, my power flickered on and off. It's a bright sunny day, and there's no reason that that would have happened. Maybe they just wanted to say, hello.

I asked Louise to elaborate on a couple of aspects of her experience, including the tattoo and the past life regression that she mentioned. And this is what Louise had to say. When I started seeing the symbol in my mind, I felt a strong urge to have the symbol tattooed onto the back of my neck. I really don't have an explanation for why.

I had made a sort of silly bet in my mind when I dared whatever it was to give me proof that if they actually did give me some kind of proof that something paranormal was actually going on, that I would get the tattoo. Well, they did. So I did. Whenever I remember that it's back there, it reminds me of this part of my life.

I haven't had any more experiences since I married my husband, other than waking up with just a feeling in my gut that I had been visited in the night on one occasion. I didn't open up to him about my experience until about a year into our marriage, primarily because of what I recalled during the regression.

He was incredibly supportive, never made me feel crazy at all, and has just all around been an amazing support system for me. But it was difficult to talk about it, and I've only ever shared it with him, my mom, and my sister. Until now.

As for the past life regression, I do have a recording of it, but I haven't been able to bring myself to listen to it since it was recorded. But if there is one person out there who hears it and feels relief knowing they're not alone in having a similar experience, it would be worth sharing. But I understand if it's a little too outlandish.

For anyone who hasn't had a hypnotic regression before, it's really best described as a very deep guided meditation. My memory of my regression is fuzzy, but I'll do my best to recall as many details as I can. The person I went to had been doing past life regression for about 20 years and was willing to modify her work a bit to try and help me get to the bottom of what happened to me on that night. I didn't feel comfortable going to a regular therapist for this stuff, for what I believe is obvious reasons.

She guided me to the beginning of the regression, going to my safe space and clearing my mind and things like that, until I was back in bed on that night in question. She prompted me to, in my mind's eye, open my eyes and take in my surroundings. I opened them, but I couldn't move. I was back in the room on that night, and it was dark except for the blue light spilling into the windows. I felt someone standing beside the bed, and I told her this.

I was scared of what I would see and so I refused to look and it took her what felt like 10 or 15 minutes of coaxing and reminding me I was in a safe space before I finally glanced over to my left. Standing next to my head was a short being with a large head and gray skin and the classic big black eyes.

I'd like to interject here that I know it's cliché, but this is what I saw. Anyway, as I looked at him, just knowing somehow that it was a hymn, I felt terrified. I spent what felt like another 10 minutes just processing what I was looking at, and trying to fight through the paralyzing fear.

At some point I could breathe easy again and I remember being lifted out of the bed and put on my feet. I felt like this guy didn't like me, he didn't want to be near me. There was almost a sense of familiarity in his presence and we did not have a good rapport.

He escorted me to one of the windows where there was a bright blue light coming through. It could just be the weirdness of the memory, but it felt like I glided across the floor to the window, like I wasn't walking, but he was moving me upright somehow. We stood at this large window, and then I just remember seeing this blinding light coming through, and then suddenly I was through the window and going up. I don't remember the window opening, I was just through it.

I was surrounded by light, and I felt weightless, until I was in a physical corridor of some kind. The being was still beside me. I'm five-five, and he probably came to my shoulder, just for reference. Then I was led into a room that I have vague memories of. Everything was white and clean, and round. The walls and the table tops and everything were round and sterile looking.

The next part, though, is what is hardest for me to share. I don't even know what kind of trigger warning to put here. The gray led me to a room with another being standing beside what I think was a counter. It took me a minute to look at this being. I felt overwhelmed in its presence.

I finally did though, and I saw the most incredible eyes I've ever seen in my life. She was about my height, light blue skin and a large head, with a small mouth and nose and small ears that were sort of human shaped. She had platinum blonde hair, straight and short and parted down the middle. But her eyes were like looking into a galaxy. They were large and barely had any whites, and the color was the deepest blues and purples swirled together, with some black underneath.

I swear, they sparkled. They're the thing I remember most vividly from the entire experience. I can't remember word for word the details of our conversation, but I can share the gist of it. She told me that she was my daughter, that I had been taken by these beings when I was around 15 years old, and that's when she was conceived.

She brought me back in my mind to a missing pregnancy I had when I was in high school. At the time, I was quite religious and also young and dumb, and I had prayed for God to take it away because I was so young. And suddenly, I just wasn't pregnant anymore. There was not a lot of bleeding. It was just gone. At that time, I was just glad I didn't have to tell my parents, and I didn't think too much into it.

She then told me there are others. I want to say there were seven of them. She told me that I didn't carry them all, but that they used my DNA for the others. She told me that the purpose of this visit was because I wanted proof, but that she was also happy to have a visit with me. She then went on to explain how they age differently. They mature a bit faster than we do, which is why she seemed so much older than she was.

She would have only been about seven years old by our measure, but I would have guessed that she was in her mid-twenties if she was human. She explained that her job was to care for their young on the ship, and I admit that I felt some anger in that moment, that my alleged daughter was complicit in something so heinous.

Though, one thing I remember was the intense love that I felt for her. I thought she was beautiful, and I felt a fullness in my chest just being near her. I thought to myself, she didn't ask to be part of this either. Now, I don't remember much after this, just vaguely that our time was up, and the grey guy who didn't like me came back to get me, and then I was being put back into my bed.

In the months that followed, I struggled a lot with my mental health. I felt absolutely violated and not in control of my own life and my own body, and I could feel my brain trying to gaslight itself into thinking that I made the whole thing up. It made me physically sick.

But something did undeniably happen that night, and I had no reason to make any of it up. I never even planned on telling anyone until now, years later, and it's under an alias. I do believe these beings communicate telepathically, and after I recalled my experience, I mentally sent as much seething anger as I could possibly muster in their direction. It's honestly no wonder that the Grey Guy doesn't like me, as I think we both have a bad attitude.

I haven't had any more experiences that I'm aware of, but some twisted part of me wishes that I would, so I could see her again. Although I know that if I saw her in my waking life, I would probably be my pants. I hope she's doing okay up there, wherever she is. I think about her. Often.

Our next experience comes to us from Flame, and Flame's experience is called the forest. Hey Nick, this isn't a story that I thought I was going to tell, but at this point it's one that's weighed so heavily on my mind since I heard something similar on this podcast that I need to do so.

I don't really want to be connected with this story publicly because it feels too crazy, even for me. And even if I can handle things, I'm not interested in calling them to me by giving them the thought energy of putting my name into this. I believe that if I tell it here, the people who need to hear it will find this podcast somehow.

In the past, you had featured an interview with Mark Barton about Bigfoot, and his experience is relevant to my story. I've been a practicing witch since I was very young. I won't say anything about my exact faith because it's semi-nish, but suffice to say that my practice is considered eclectic. While I'm not always consistent in practice or worship because of mental health, both are deeply important to me, and my practice is relevant to this story.

This story is set in Tennessee, in the Appalachian Mountains, on a very popular, very easy trail that ends at a waterfall and a swimming area. This trail is always fairly crowded, but for the relevant part of this story, it was not.

I was with my mom and my younger sister, who I believe was still in high school at the time, so this happened over five years ago, but I don't remember the exact time frame. My mom and my sister were dallying, and I felt an unreal burst of energy, so I quickly left them behind, and I ended up jogging up the trail. Eventually, I stopped and walked, enjoying the scenery and the bird song.

I hadn't seen anyone in a while, which did make me pause because of the Trails popularity, but it didn't really phase me. I did occasionally sing out loud, making sure that any large predators that were already unlikely to show up because of the Trails popularity knew that I was there, and weren't going to be surprised.

I don't remember if the birds suddenly went silent, or the sounds were just muffled to my ears, but I do remember that the air suddenly felt heavy, and my throat felt tight. This phenomena is something that I associate with negativity around me, and here is where Mark Barton's interview becomes relevant. In my head, I heard a voice.

Now, this is not the first time that this has happened to me, as I frequently heard things I shouldn't have been able to, and I've had them confirmed by others as being accurate. I also regularly talk to my goddess, and while I don't usually hear her voice, it's more of a feeling of love, but I have heard other things. This is the first and only time that I felt evil had talked to me, and it only said one word. Pray.

The voice in my head was cruel and felt slithery. That's the only way I can describe it. At this point, I stopped walking, and after an initial rush of fear and coldness on my skin, I quickly squashed the fear and reminded myself that I know how to deal with supernatural entities.

I immediately created a wall of blue flame around me, which is a psychic visualization trick. You visualize a wall of blue flame that nothing that means you harm may pass through. Immediately I felt warm and confident, but I wasn't done yet. The way to handle scary humans and scary supernatural things is the same.

Believe and know that you are the scary one, and make them know it too. I've done multiple exorcisms, always ones that I volunteered for because there was a child involved. My method is working with my familiars. My familiars are in animal forms, some mythic, and some not.

Not everyone visualizes animal familiars. Many connect with alien or humanoid beings, but the form doesn't really matter to any, except the person who bonds with them. At this point, I let out a dark chuckle, telling myself that I was the scariest thing in the forest, and that soon, whatever was out there with me was about to find out the hard way.

I didn't want it to go after anyone easier, which I felt like it would. The trick to dealing with negative entities is to tell yourself you're safe and protected till you believe it absolutely, and this gets easier with practice. Use whatever faith you have, whatever you have to call upon.

If you believe without question that you will be safe and that you are protected, then you are. Beings of energy or on other planes only have power because of your fear. Starve them. You can do it through prayer, smoke cleansing, psychic methods, anything.

Just believe. Anyway, back to the story. At this point, I lowered my wall of blue flame, and I thought back at it. Not prey. I then called upon my familiars, along with visualizing spreading the blue flame throughout the forest, and telling the thing out there that it was welcome to try and make me pray, but it would find no other that day because this area was under my protection.

Then I felt fear that wasn't mine, and I told my familiars to hunt. The last thought that I heard in my head was an angry and dejected, not prey. The sounds then came back to the forest, and soon I came upon people once again. There was a pretty consistent stream when I'd barely seen anyone since leaving my family.

This could have been coincidence, but I think it had something to do with what happened because a common thing about the missing 411 is suddenly being alone and disappearing from other's sight. I don't know if it died that day or left this plane, although I suspect the latter. I do know that I'm glad that it picked me. Not everyone knows how to deal with such things, and something really bad could have happened.

The missing 411 are a thing for a reason, and it definitely was some type of predator. I never saw it or looked for it because I find things are much scarier if they're seen, so I can't confirm what Mark said about how they looked, but I do think that we may have encountered the same species. I was just prepared for encountering a negative entity capable of harm because I was taught how to do so, and knowledge is power in itself.

Thanks for spreading this information and having this podcast to have information like this spread. It's really important. Sincerely, Flame

Tonight's encounter comes to us from Maya, and Maya's experience is called a presence. Maya says, Hi, Nick. First, I wanted to say thank you for creating a safe space for sharing our supernatural experiences. I am an avid fan of your podcast, and I am very happy to say that I am up to date since I listen to it every day at work.

Since I was a kid, I always believed in the supernatural, especially in ghosts. This is because when I was a kid, I saw my great grandmother in my living room just minutes after she had passed away. I had actually submitted that story to you, and to my luck, you shared it in one of your episodes.

Today though, I'm ready to share the most intense paranormal occurrence that I've had, and this time I do recall everything that happened. To this day it gives me chills. I'm just starting to write this to you, and goosebumps are populating my existence.

It was the summer of 2020 when I got accepted to be an intern at a research facility in the middle of nowhere in the United States. I am from the Caribbean, so yes, I was going to be far away from home for two whole months and working night shifts on a project that needed me to do late night runs to the lab. Emotionally, it was a mixture of sadness and excitement. I was getting paid really good money, so I definitely was up for the adventure.

This research facility was part of a farmland, and the architecture was still the same from the 1700s to 1800s. I did my personal research before getting into the whole thing, and I found out that the property was once owned by a wealthy family, and they had many, many acres of various crops.

Sadly, all of those crops were operated by slaves that also lived in the property in a building called the Slave Quarters. After my little research, I was left curious to see how the place would actually look in person and how the research facility would operate.

I finally got to the research facility, and my breath was taken away by how beautiful everything was. The place was close to magical, ponds everywhere, butterflies all around, flowering plants in every corner, and open spaces that felt like they were out of a postcard. It was breathtaking. The staff showed us where the students would sleep, and it turns out that this was in the slave quarters.

I didn't really know how to feel about it, and as a fan of the paranormal, it did kind of feel like we were an investigating team staying in the most dreadful place of the whole property. It was a hallway of rooms on the second floor, and mine was the first one up the stairs.

The dreadfulness and sadness paired with the loud creaking noises of our own steps on the wooden floor, plus the unbearable sound the screen door and wooden doors made when opening, created a somewhat tense but chaotic atmosphere in my room. I do recall that throughout my time there, I spent as little time in that room as possible. I just really tried only using it for sleeping.

At least though, I was paired with such a sweet and awesome roommate, who I will call Lily. She and I were very similar in terms of how we lived, so it was very easy to live with her. The weeks passed and I eventually befriended a staff member who was also doing research.

He lived on the property, but in a house a little farther away from us. We were hanging out on the property's private library one night, when all of a sudden it came to me, and I asked him, Hey, do you know of anything weird about this property? I'm kind of a fan of spooky stuff, and where we sleep feels weird at all times. Plus the history. I don't know.

Now, I will never forget the look in his eyes, and it was as if he was surprised and a little scared that I picked up on something. He then asked, why do you ask? Have you seen or heard anything? I was already scared of his reaction, so I nodded as if to say no. He then said, well, there are various stories about this place that I sadly found out because I was too curious as you are right now, and I say sadly because now I'm scared to be alone here and every corner gives me the creeps.

After that, he started telling me one by one all the things he knew about the place. First, there were many archived encounters where witnesses left a written statement of what they saw. Many people on many different occasions saw a lady dressed in a black Victorian dress. This lady had a transparent, dark veil covering her face as if she was a widow.

The witnesses said that they would see her literally levitating throughout the main hallway on the property, or even by the main pond. Some accounts had even seen a child with her. Her face had no features, but you could see her hands and they were pale white and translucent.

The second story was about an intern. One night, while all the interns went out, she stayed behind alone in the property. As a big mistake, she decided to explore the halls and found herself in an attic. A while after that, everyone came home from the outing, and they found the intern almost paralyzed in her bed. She couldn't speak, and she was getting very sick, very fast. She finally said,

I was in the attic when I saw it. It just stared back at me, and then everything in the room started to move on its own, and I panicked. She died shortly after.

Now, after all of that, I was so scared, and to be honest, my first reaction was to laugh. It may have been rude, but I was so spooked that I needed to release some tension. He then looked at me and said, you can laugh all you want, but there is proof. While he said that, he lifted his hand and pointed to something. It was a black box on a top shelf, which you definitely needed a letter to get to. The smirk that I had on my face from laughing disappeared, and it was official. I was terrified.

He then changed subjects and later asked me not to tell anyone about it because he was told not to spread information that could scare people away from the property. I promised that I was going to keep it quiet, knowing that I was indeed going to be breaking that promise the day after. I then told Lily about it the next day without knowing it was a mistake because she turned out to be too scared to look into the matter.

I, however, needed to see what was in that box, so I told some other people, and to my luck, they were up to the challenge. One night we grabbed a ladder and managed to get up to the box. We opened it, and I immediately regretted all the decisions I had made. All the written accounts he had told me about. They existed, and were very well preserved in plastic coverings. The account of the intern who died? Well, all I'm going to say is that it was all true, and there were even pictures to prove it.

Everything was true, and there was even more about the lady in the Victorian dress. But I stopped. I needed to stop. Have you ever heard of the phrase, curiosity killed the cat? Well, my curiosity indeed killed any sense of peace and safety that I felt while being there.

Knowing this happened in the first three weeks, and I had a whole other month there, I was not excited anymore, especially since my job was a night shift type of job. We then closed the box, and we left it in its place. We obviously talked about our findings, but we decided to leave it there. What happens at the library stays at the library, someone said.

The days after that were weird, and we tried to forget about what happened, and to be honest we did somewhat of a good job. We hung around a lot, drank a lot, and had as much fun as we could, and in a matter of days I felt okay once again.

Like two weeks after that, the internship was about to be over, and the director of the place decided to throw a party for everyone at his house. We were all very excited, but obviously sad, since I was not going to see any of my friends that I made ever again. When I saw the date of the party, it was my last night of work, so unfortunately, I was not able to go.

The night of the party finally arrived, and everyone was getting ready. I walked around to see if at least one of my friends was going to be staying, but no, it turned out that everyone was going. The reality that I was going to be the only one on the property didn't really hit me as I'm a forgetful person, and I actually found myself being very okay with the idea. The hours passed, and it was around midnight, and I was still awake because of work, so I decided to get into an article that I needed to read.

I was in my room with the screen door closed and the wooden door opened. It was a peaceful night, very quiet and serene. The light breeze coming through the screen door made the room feel comfortable, so I decided to just stay there and read my article. I got up to the top bunk and with my back facing the door, I started reading.

I would say that like half an hour had passed, when all of a sudden I started to hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I knew some of the students wore heavy boots all the time, so I assumed it was one of them. Not paying too much attention to the footsteps, I kept reading since I was about to finish, and I was getting into an important conclusion of the study.

Then, whoever was coming up the stairs reached the top and stopped for a second, but I was still very into my article. Suddenly the screen door of my room opened wide, and it did have somewhat of a little lock that you also had to unlock to get in. With my back still facing the door, I assumed that it was Lily coming back from the party. Four very heavy footsteps then reached my bunk bed, and that's when I finally turned around while saying, so Lily, how was the party?

But this is when I realized that there was no one there, but you could feel a presence. Being on the top bunk, I could almost feel how my face was close to whatever this was in front of me. I was frozen, almost paralyzed, and my heart was racing too fast. I gasped for air while staring at the door slowly closing.

Once I felt that it was all gone, I jumped off the top bunk and closed both doors, and I turned on every light possible. I was trembling horribly, and I could not believe what just happened, and I really thought that I had fallen asleep, and it was all just a vivid dream. But sadly, it was not. I was fully awake, and even more now. I tried to go back to reading, but I couldn't concentrate.

A while after, everyone eventually returned from the party. I could hear their laughter, and I could smell the alcohol from a mile away. I was not going to ruin their night, so I decided to fake that I was asleep. My alarm then went off at 3am to go to work, and I turned it off. I decided that I was going to give an excuse the next day to my boss. I couldn't move from my bed, and some parts of me were still trembling.

All the stories, the encounters, the evidence from the box in the library, what happened to the intern that stayed behind. All of it flooded my thoughts. Days after that, I ran into my friend, the staff member who told me about everything in the box. I needed to tell him what had happened, but as soon as I told him that I had heard and seen something, he said, nope, I don't want to know. This place already scares me enough.

Eventually, the program came to an end, and I was back home when I told my family what had happened. Thankfully, they are very open-minded and have had supernatural experiences before, so they understood completely, and they comforted me. To this day, I wonder who entered my room and why. Maybe they got close to my bed to tell me something that my ears just couldn't hear. Maybe they were asking for help. I will never know, and that will haunt me.

forever.

Our next experience comes to us from Megan, and Megan's experience is called, Night of Terror. Megan says, Hey Nick, I'm a new listener to your podcast, and I've been addicted. I had some paranormal activity happening not only to me, but to my family. My entire family and I are Native American for reference, and we also live in a rural area in Oklahoma. I have a story that I would like to share with everyone.

My mom's side of the family has nine members. My mom, her four sisters, and two brothers all ranged in ages from six to seventeen, and they all lived in a small home with my grandparents growing up. Throughout my grandpa's life, he was a medicine man who partook in dark rituals, and he did so with other medicine men in the area. However, it was in the mid-1970s when he decided that he and his family were going to convert to Christianity.

The medicine men found out a few days later what my grandpa had done, and were extremely angry. Even worse, my grandpa had decided to become a preacher. These men felt betrayed that my grandpa chose to reject indigenous traditions, and they sought revenge.

They decided one day that they would seek revenge by placing a violent and evil curse on my family's land. My family's land is roughly 100 acres surrounded by heavy woods with an abundance of wildlife, and their small farmhouse is built right in the middle. They also had chickens that my mom and her siblings would feed and raise.

One night, as my mom and her family were falling asleep, a dark energy covered the entire land. The house they lived in had no air conditioning at the time, so the windows had to be opened a few inches to keep all the rooms cool. All of a sudden, a loud shriek filled the entire house, jolting everyone awake. One of my aunts was screaming in terror as a black, bony hand with sharp fingers had grabbed her by her hair and was trying to pull her out of the window.

My mom and another aunt jumped up from their shared bed trying to save their sister. While that was happening, another entity who was a tall, slender shadow was dragging one of my uncles down the hallway from his and his brother's shared room to the front door. The shadow was laughing in joy as my uncle was yelling in sheer fright, grabbing at the walls and trying to find a grip.

My grandma and grandpa could not move as something big with a hunched back and huge red eyes was sitting on their legs and preventing them from saving their children. The big dark shadow then spoke to my grandpa in a deep, menacing voice and said, You turned your back on us. You and your family shall suffer.

My grandma sobbed as she felt helpless while listening to her children's screams of terror, all the while begging my grandpa to do something. Then they all heard a bunch of scratching and thuds on the ceiling as more entities scrambled around the roof. My remaining two aunts and uncle were running from room to room and swatting at flying deformed goblins that were clawing at them, attempting to cling on to my aunts and uncle.

My mom and her sister had finally managed to pull my aunt to safety, rescued my uncle from the tall shadow, and slammed all the windows shut. At this point, my uncle that was freed caught a glimpse of the front porch to the living room window, and he saw many red eyes staring into the home. He even screamed as he saw a few owls flying backwards before dropping to the ground. All of their chickens were later found beheaded on the porch.

This ordeal lasted the majority of the night, and then suddenly, it all stopped. All of the creatures let out a uniformed shriek as they disappeared into thin air. My grandparents ran out of their bedroom, clutching their bibles in their hands and shouting prayers. Then, everything went quiet. The curse had paused for the night.

My grandpa and other pastors spent that next day praying over the land, exercising the curse and its violence out, and hoping to avoid another frightful night. The house still stands, as one of my aunts inherited the home after my grandparents passed. Since then, a church was built close to my mom's childhood home, offering protection against a vengeful men and entities.

As my mom's side of the family had their own children, we always have family gatherings on my grandparents' land to spend time with each other. However, we never stay out past sunset as we feel terrified and anxious once the sun disappears. My mom has even mentioned that the birds don't sing like they used to, and there hasn't been any sight of a wildlife in a very long time.

All there is left is the remnant presence of dark magic constantly watching us and the complete utter silence throughout the land. Our next experience comes to us from Arya, and Arya's story is called A Real Life Dementor.

Hello. I'd like to share a story that still fills me with questions to this day. I am very used to paranormal experiences as I have seen ghosts a lot, mostly up until my mid 20s. This paranormal event was the first one though, where I experienced it with someone else. Someone who had never experienced anything paranormal before.

It was an ordinary night back in 2004, when I was a student in a town in Berkshire, England. The student house I was living in was empty for a change, so I appreciated the peace and quiet, though I knew that my boyfriend at the time would be home fairly soon after finishing his shift at work.

My room was an ordinary medium-sized room. I had stayed there for over a year, and I had never experienced anything strange or unusual in the time I lived there. My bed faced a fairly large window, and in those days I rarely shut my curtains, but also it would have to be a warm day for me to open my windows as well. That day my window was shut as it was late spring, I believe. It was not warm, but it wasn't cold either.

I went to bed around 10 p.m., quickly slipping into a deep sleep. But it must have been around midnight when I suddenly and aggressively awoke, now realizing that my boyfriend was also sleeping beside me. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to a large, dark figure. It looked exactly like the Dementors mentioned in the Harry Potter box.

In my confused state, I questioned my boyfriend who appeared to have been woken up at the exact same time by asking him, can you see a figure to which he completed my sentence and said, at the edge of our bed? Yes. Almost the second that my boyfriend finished my sentence, I felt my entire body locked down. It was like this really strong force had shackled or locked my body to my bed.

and I was unable to move. I was utterly terrified as this black dementor-like creature slowly rose up into the air and above both me and my boyfriend. Physically, both of us were lying flat on our backs, though next to each other on the bed, but we were not physically holding hands.

Once the figure was parallel to us, an extreme force compounded me like my soul was being sucked out of my physical body. I desperately clung on with all my might, and as unbelievable as this sounds, I felt like my soul was clutching tightly with all my strength to my boyfriend's soul, as we both fought to stay in our bodies.

I can't say for sure how long we were clinging on for, definitely a few minutes, as I started to become wary, but at the same time not wanting to feel defeated by this thing. After what felt like ours, this dementor type creature got very obviously angry as we continued to fight. The creature finally gave up, and we felt the pure rage as it flew out of my window, which was closed.

In seconds, my boyfriend jumped out of bed and switched the light on. We sat there for ages trying to make sense of what had happened. Both of our stories were exactly the same, and neither of us could work out what the creature was, or even how it had happened. We agreed that we would only tell our closest friends, as we wouldn't be believed. As I said earlier, to this day I still wonder what the creature was. But I suspect that it may have been death.

Before I continue, please consider showing your support by subscribing, sharing, and giving the podcast a positive review. You can also visit me on Patreon, buy me a coffee or PayPal and make a donation, or become a member, starting at just a dollar a month. You can even join my Patreon membership for free and get access to all of my future updates. And of course, just listening to the show is the best support of all, and I'm grateful to have you here.

Now, please stay tuned, and I'll be right back after these brief messages. Our next experience comes to us from Devon, and Devon's story is called, Vanishing Crime Scene.

Devon says,

The event in question occurred in the dead of summer when I was a high school freshman. Being bored teenagers and avid cyclists, my friend Jack and I frequently rode down vacant country roads over the summer break. Having succumbed to the tedium of pedaling down the same highways and dirt paths, we decided one July evening to venture farther than our usual routes.

Our destination was a tall gazebo and adjacent playground nestled in the heart of an old strawberry farm, which was about a 90-minute ride from my childhood home. To avoid the procession of drunk drivers which usually paraded down the main thoroughfares after 6 p.m., we took the less-traveled back roads. During the end of our ride, we found ourselves on an unfamiliar and scarcely-populated rural street.

Standing conspicuously at one side of the road was a dilapidated single-story farmhouse. From the street, you could plainly see that the windows were knocked in. The structure was irreparably warped, and the inside walls were adorned with the typical 666 and get-out messages, one fine spray-painted in abandoned buildings.

While this in and of itself was an unnerving sight, our attention was drawn to an old car lying on a dry patch of grass in front of the dwelling, and it was surrounded by a wide perimeter of fresh, yellow, do-not-cross tape indicative of a crime scene.

Aside from the tape, the property was devoid of any traces of police activity, or any activity for that matter. Firstly, the car itself bore more rust than paint, and its tires were all flat. By its decrepit appearance, Jack and I both speculated that it had not been moved or driven for decades.

Moreover, we had encountered no police cars on the bike ride up to this property, and there were no footprints, tire tracks, or other vestiges of human presence in the gravel driveway, or the surrounding area. Adding to the remoteness and isolation of the residents, only two or three other houses were within a kilometer of our current location, and the street was utterly deserted. Perplexed, Jack and I left for the Strawberry Farm.

We spent about 10 minutes at the gazebo and playground and having mutually gathered the courage to explore the eerie house that we had passed earlier. Our curiosity enticed us to ditch the farm and return to that secluded street. We reached the house at dusk and at this point it had been a mere 20 minutes since we first discovered the property. The house lay just as we found it, but one detail was different. The police tape and the car were both missing.

We distinctly remembered where the broken-down vehicle had sat relative to the driveway, but it was gone. To our astonishment, there were no tire tracks or other signs that the vehicle had been towed. Moreover, the patch of grass where we were certain the car had been was all intact, and there were no signs of yellowed, flattened grass where the tires had surely rested for ages. We paced up and down the front of the house, which darkened as the sun sat.

Yet we found no clues that could have produced a rational explanation to this conundrum. The crime scene had simply vanished. Spooked, we pedaled back home, understandably a little faster than we had come.

Jack and I often recount this story at campfires as our friends are equally puzzled. Shortly after the incident, we had driven to the same property only to find that the house itself had mysteriously disappeared without any trace of demolition. This occurrence still confounds us to this day.

Our next experience comes to us from Diamond, and Diamond's experience is called Grey's and Sleep paralysis.

Diamond says,

In 1994, while I was in my first year of community college, I lived with my aunt and uncle. Their children were grown and they had a large empty house with a partial walkout basement in which I had a bedroom and my own bathroom. The rest of the basement was a large rec room with a very open floor plan. It was decked out with 60s and 70s furniture that I thought was very funky and retro. I had always loved this space as a kid, and was very happy to have it as my pad as an 18-year-old.

I had been living there for about three months when I woke up one morning, and I couldn't really remember going to bed. It felt odd, but I shrugged it off, and I went about my day. It was three days later when I had come home from classes and I made my way down the steps, and this is when I felt a dread fear to be in the basement alone. I turned on all the overhead fluorescent lights, which I never did in such a large basement, and an instant later, I had a mental flash of a classic gray alien standing in the middle of the basement.

It was like a memory raced to the surface of my mind like a bubble, and then burst. The memory seemed to be so real and vivid, but after a time I dismissed it as being an overactive imagination, but I never felt comfortable in that basement ever again, and I haven't been down there ever since I moved out a couple months later.

I always wondered if I had some sort of missing time that night that I couldn't remember going to bed, and if this had something to do with the odd memory flash of the gray, days later. The second experience was many years later. I own a house about five blocks from where my aunt and uncle still live, as I have always loved this neighborhood in Grand Rapids.

It was 2022 and I was now 46 years old. I had begun having heart troubles and I had been diagnosed with serious aortic blockage. I was having regular chest pains and I was awaiting open heart bypass surgery, which was a scary prospect, if not paranormal.

I awoke around 4am and I was having chest pains and numbness in my arm so I took an aspirin and extra blood pressure medicine and I returned to bed. I sat up in bed and read a little to wait for the chest pain to ease and to make sure that it didn't get worse. I live alone so it would be on me if an emergency call needed to be placed.

I soon began to feel a little better, but I then found myself in full-blown paralysis. I fought to move and felt completely frozen. I was absolutely terrified as I tried to cry out, but then something unthinkable made it even worse.

At the corner of my bed in the small hall between the door and the bedroom stood a classic gray alien form, and it was watching me. I screamed out with every fiber of my being, but no sounds emerged, and I was completely frozen. I could almost feel that this being knew that I was like a pinned bug, and it just continued to stare. I pleaded with it inside my head to be left alone.

At that moment I had the oddest thought as what felt like minutes dragged on. Where is Miss Biscuit Zeta Jones when I need her? Biscuit is my ill-tempered calico cat who only likes me and hisses and swaths at everyone else. It seems so strange that I, a full-grown man, was hoping that an 18-pound house cat would come and chase away the being that was standing in my room.

I continued to rage for a little longer against my imaginary binds, and I was finally able to move, and when I looked back to where the gray had been standing, it had vanished.

Now, I have only had sleep paralysis that one instance, and even with my heart condition, it never manifested like that before or after. I did have my surgery and I'm feeling fine now, but I don't know if these experiences were real or just manifestations of other stressors. I do know, though, that both experiences scared me beyond any terror that I have felt before or after.

Our next experience comes to us from Whitney. And Whitney's experience is called... Alien.

Whitney says,

Ever since I was a young child, I have been obsessed with aliens and the paranormal. I would always make my mom buy me alien and UFO books at the book fair instead of normal books like other kids. I would sit out in my backyard for hours studying these books and staring at the sky with my binoculars in hopes of seeing something.

I'm not sure what piqued my interest in aliens as such a young child. It could have been all the episodes of the X-Files that I sneakily watched in the doorway of the living room when I was supposed to be in bed, because I wasn't old enough to watch it yet. I'd like to think that my interest in aliens is something more sinister, but I have no evidence of that, unfortunately.

Like I was saying, I have always been fascinated with aliens, and even when I got into college, you could still find me in the library, not studying, but reading books about aliens. In my free time at home, I would spend hours on YouTube watching videos of UFOs and possible alien sightings. Sure, I knew that a lot of them were probably fake, but they were fascinating, nonetheless.

Although I was very passionate about the idea of aliens, this passion did have its downfalls. Because of all the alien stuff I was consuming, that is all I could think about. Therefore, my anxiety was pretty bad, especially at night. I was constantly wondering if I was going to be abducted. I knew this wasn't healthy, but this passion of mine was a huge part of my identity. I couldn't just stop researching aliens, as I've been doing it for so long.

Well, eventually, my obsession with aliens would come to a halt. Not because I wanted to, but for my mental health. I needed to. And it all started because of one person that I decided to talk to about his so-called Alien Abduction.

It all started one day when I got a text from my girlfriend. She said, hey, my friend who will call Martin thinks that he may have been abducted by aliens. I told him that you know a lot about aliens and that you might want to speak to him. So I told her, yes, absolutely. I would love to talk to him.

I was so excited because, after all this time, all those years of pointless research and obsession, I finally might get to put it all to use. How exactly? I didn't know, but my knowledge has to come in handy somehow, right? I was excited to speak with them, and I was imagining how it was going to go in my head. Well, what really happened was nothing that I could have ever expected.

I met up with Martin one night at a house party that we both happened to be attending. I had hung out with him a few times before, but we hadn't really talked very much. After a few drinks, we finally started talking. He seemed nervous, but willing to talk. It seemed like he had needed to get his story told, at least to someone, and I was the perfect person to listen to him without judgment.

He started with the usual by saying, I know how this is all going to sound, and I promise you, I'm not crazy. He then said that he had no reason to lie about this, and that he was never a believer until it happened to him. Now, it's been many years since all of this happened, so I may leave out some details that I can't remember exactly right, because I don't want to make stuff up, just to make the story better.

He said that it all started one evening a few days before spring break. He was walking around campus late at night when he saw some lights in the sky. He said that they were very close and floating above some of the buildings on campus. He knew that they were not normal and was immediately freaked out. However, he didn't think much of them as the days went on because he thought for as weird as they were, there must be some logical explanation for them.

A few days later, he went home for spring break, and this is where the story actually begins. He says that he was sleeping in bed when he suddenly woke up. His dog in the other room was barking. He saw three small figures. One was standing by the window, one by the door, and the other one was at the end of his bed. He could not make out much other than that they were short, like four feet or less.

He said that he does not remember anything, only bits and pieces. Even the things that he started to describe to me, he doesn't fully understand, or know how to explain. He said that they were very kind to him, and they showed him around their ship. He remembers one room in particular.

He said that it was special, like it was alive. It was glowing and bright. It's like the room was full of knowledge and wisdom. It was beyond human comprehension. He did not know how to explain it any further. He said that they then took him to their planet, which was in the Andromeda galaxy. It was like the whole planet was a city, kind of like Coruscant in Star Wars.

It was very polluted. He got the idea that their planet was dying, and that maybe they were coming to our planet to find a way to save their own species. I then asked him how long the trip to that galaxy took, and he said that it was probably only a couple of hours. He does not know why they were showing him their planet and their ship, but he felt like they were just being hospitable.

The next bit that he said is why I'm writing this story to your podcast today. He said that he met his children and that he had many, just like in the episode I just listened to. He said that it was weird looking at them because they looked humanoid, but they had huge eyes. He said that he looked at them with fear, but they also looked at him with fear. They were just as put off by his image as he was of theirs. They were scared to be around him, just as much as he was around them.

This was the first time I've ever heard of anything like this before, even in all my years of being an alien enthusiast. It was shocking, but I believed him. He also told me that they wanted him to play them electronic music, and that it was their favorite type of music. That one always makes me laugh, and every time I listen to music now, I wonder if the little grey aliens would like it or not.

He also said that they did not have reproductive organs, and that they did not get nutrients through their mouths, but rather through their skin. He got an image that they wiped stuff on their skin, and it was absorbed in that way. Now, until then, his story was not scary to me. It was fascinating, and I wanted to know more.

I asked him, so can you describe what they looked like? He then said that their hands were almost like suction cups at the ends of their fingertips, that they were short and walked almost mechanically or bug-like. He said that he got the idea that they were just grunts doing the dirty work and that the higher-ups were the ones actually in control. He said that he got the idea that the tall grays were the ones in charge.

As he began to describe their face, he closed his eyes and tried to remember. I could see the fear welling up on his face. He said that they have large eyes, and at that moment he got overwhelmed with fear, and he ran off into the hallway. I then followed him to make sure that he was okay.

When I approached him, his hands were over his ears, and his eyes were glued shut like he was trying to keep something out of his head. His mouth was agape as far as it could open, almost seeming like any further, and it would dislocate. I have never seen fear like that before. I was terrified.

We were at a party, so I couldn't make a scene. I did try to snap him out of it and comfort him at the same time by saying his name a few times in a calm, but stern voice. After about 10 seconds, he snapped out of it and ran off again, this time into the kitchen.

I was very creeped out, but I had no time to be scared for myself when he clearly needed help. His face reminded me of an image that I saw in the movie, The Fourth Kind. Anyway, I followed him to the kitchen. He apologized and just said that it was way too scary trying to remember their faces.

He acted like what had just happened was no big deal. I shrugged it off for now, but the sight of his face still haunts me to this day. We started to talk again in the kitchen, surrounded by people, but everyone was in their own worlds, drinking and laughing.

He was suddenly in a better mood, like a switch had been flipped in his brain, and he then said something that was terrifying. They are listening to us right now. I said, what do you mean? And he said that he can hear them talking to him in his head right now. They like you, he said with a smile. I said, what do you mean they like me? And he said, they like how open-minded I am, and they would like to take me as well.

Now, obviously, this freaked me out. I know any sane person would think that he is full of crap, but given my background and belief in this stuff, I was sold. I was so scared, and he could tell, so he patted my shoulder, and he told me not to worry, and to not be scared. He then said that I should not worry, and that they would not take me for a while, but only when I was ready. Whatever that means.

He said that they are good beings, but they just look scary. And from there, he began to talk about how the beings who created us were in some type of war with the greys. And when the other beings created humans, they implanted a fear into our genes of the greys, so that we would not like them.

I believe he said that the Anunnaki created us. Again, I don't know where he received this information, but he said that it was just what he gathered. Whether it be from telepathy from the greys, or insanity, I don't know. He continued to explain that the greys just want their offspring to have an open mind like mine. He said that they are abducting people to crossbreed with us so that their species won't die out.

I'm sure they have other reasons to abduct us as well, but that is what they want from him, and now from me too, I guess. Well, that's about it. I went back home that night, and I couldn't sleep. For weeks I slept with a nightlight, and I got very little sleep. I was terrified that these aliens were going to take me. For years I had crippling anxiety and insomnia. At one point it got so bad that I would stay awake until the sun rose, to finally fall asleep.

I finally told a friend what was going on. I told her everything. And whether she believed me or not, I don't know. But she told me that I needed to talk to someone. So I finally did. I am forever grateful to that friend for telling me to get help.

Well, for me the fix was simple. My therapist said that I needed to move on from my interest in aliens, and stop researching them. I did what she said. I also started meditating and taking back control of my mind. It took some work, but I no longer am scared of being abducted. Sure, occasionally I will have some anxiety at night, but it's nothing that keeps me awake anymore. In fact, now I welcome it.

I hope that if these beings really need help to continue their race, that I would be glad to help them. Of course, I know that if that actually happened, I would be terrified. But who knows? It could have already happened by now, and I don't even know it. I honestly hope so.

Ever since I've been better, I have started to research again, but with a more positive outlook. Aliens are always portrayed as bad, but how do we know that they are? I don't know if any of the listeners know of the writings of Dolores Cannon. She is a past-life hypno regressionist who has written many books.

Among a lot of her patients, they have given accounts of being abducted, or even living as one of these aliens in a past life. All the accounts that she's discovered have been positive. Our human minds just can't wrap our head around them, so when we remember these events, our brains tend to misconstrue them and shape them into being evil, when that is actually far from the truth. But at the time of the actual events, we are somehow calm and know that we are not in danger.

I'm sure a lot of this sounds hard to believe, and I don't blame you, and I'm not trying to convince you. However, I do believe that whatever Martin experienced was true. At least, he believed it to be true. And that is enough for me. Years later, I asked Martin if he would like to talk about it some more. And he said no. He said that he wanted to move on from it. He didn't want to recall some of the things that he told me that night. So I didn't want to press him any further.

Thank you for listening and keep an open mind, but not too open, for you may be the next to have alien children as well. Our next experience of the night comes to us from Jeannie, and Jeannie's story is called Spirit Experiences and a Voided Space.

Hello, Nick. Firstly, I wanted to say I recently found your podcast and I absolutely love it. Thank you for the stories that you've shared from listeners and for providing a safe place for people to talk about their experiences. I am one of those people who likes to know the full story, so I started with your first episode about two months ago, and I just finished episode 86. I have no idea if these stories will align with where your podcast is currently, but I figured that I'd share them in case it was ever relevant.

I have changed the names of anyone mentioned in the stories for their privacy and my own, as I do not talk about this part of my life with many people, and I have recommended this to several friends and co-workers.

To give a brief summary, I have always been an intuitive person and have experienced many things that can be labeled as paranormal. Some include never being wrong about the gender of my friends and family's babies, sensing family passing, seeing spirits or demons, getting vibes, and seeing auras. It has been a long road of self-discovery.

I was raised in a family that very strongly believed in evidence and fact-checking, so I have doubted myself for a long time, as I am not always able to explain exactly what happened to me. I always do my best to research after an experience to try and find an explanation, or validate my experience. However, it's not always fruitful. I do know what I experience, though. And with that being said, here are my stories.

My first story happened around October of 2015, about one year into dating my current husband, Justin. We were having a family game night at his cousin's house who lived about 45 minutes away from us. It was my first time at their house, and I was still nervous being around his family, and was very much an introvert who hated this sort of thing.

Once we got there, we were welcomed in and hung out in the living room for a short time. Part of the party then migrated to the kitchen, so I asked Justin where I should put my jacket, as I was still holding onto it. He went to ask, and then just told me from around the corner to put it in the upstairs guest bedroom, and he then pointed to the staircase, which I hadn't noticed yet. This part is important to remember for the next story as well.

I started to go up the stairs and made it about four steps up before I stopped dead in my tracks. Now I don't know what made me stop, but I just felt like I shouldn't go any further than I had. I couldn't even lift my head to look up the stairs, and I just turned back around and I went back to Justin.

I told him that I would explain everything later, but I asked him if he would put my coat in there for me, which he did, and we went about our night. Afterwards, he grabbed my jacket and we laughed, and we never talked about why I asked him to take my jacket.

Several years passed, and several visits later, I still hadn't been upstairs. It was like every time I went there, I just couldn't see it, almost like it didn't exist to me anymore. I had sat on those stairs several times, but I never passed that fourth step.

Anyway, during one visit there, I walk into the living room and they are all chatting about a ghost that someone experienced. I sit down next to Justin and start tuning in to the conversation, when his cousin Ella says, quote, and I just told her she could stay, but she was only allowed upstairs in the guest room.

Immediately, I clarified if she meant here, and everyone in the family, including my husband, asked, yeah, you didn't know? Well, apparently, right after moving in, Ella was cleaning the living room when she saw what she described as a ghost of an old woman. She made several appearances, none of which were hostile. Ella was worried about the guests seeing her on game nights, which led to her requesting that she stay in the guest room.

Now, after hearing this, immediately everything I had experienced made so much more sense. I think the spirit was aware that I was in tune with that sort of thing, and made sure that I knew that she didn't want me near her. I never saw her again, nor have I ever been upstairs in that house, and they have since moved away. It was interesting to have someone who was unaware of my experience validated in that way.

My next story happened back in early 2019. My husband Justin, my sister Mary, who was living with us, and myself, were house hunting. We had already looked at several houses and this was our last one for the day. It was built in 1938 and it needed some TLC, but it was exactly what we were looking for.

Right after arriving there, I felt kind of heavy. We had spent the day looking at several houses, and I started to get worn out from it all, so at first I didn't think much of it. We then met the realtor, and made our way inside. After checking out most of the downstairs, my husband, sister, and the realtor headed upstairs. I wanted to look at the kitchen and backyard, so we split up.

After doing a quick once-over, I noticed a door that I hadn't before, and I believed it to be the pantry. Only upon opening yet did I realize that it was the basement. I had looked at the listing prior to us coming, and there was only one picture, and not many details. Curious about what else was down there, I decided to check it out before going outside. I couldn't find a light switch,

So I went to take a step onto the stairs to look on the wall a bit closer. My foot didn't even make contact with the first step before a force that felt like a fist hit me square in the stomach. Even though my weight was shifted forward to take a step, I was hit with enough force for me to fall back a step. Immediately following that, I was overcome with fear, but also anger.

I knew the anger was not my own, and I had no idea what to do. I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack, so I slammed the door shot, and I walked into the bedroom across the living room. At this point, I waited for everyone to go towards the kitchen and backyard before running upstairs.

I was already crying at this point and was trying to control myself enough so I could thank the realtor, and then leave. I finally calmed myself down enough that I could rejoin the group, and I made my way back down. We then said our goodbyes, and left.

As soon as we got to the car, Mary asked me what was wrong, but I just told them that I got a weird vibe, and that we could not buy the house. Justin was confused, but knows that I have a very strong intuition, so he didn't press much more, but he said he didn't really like it anyway. Later I tried to figure out the history of that property, but nothing came of it. I just know that whatever it was that was in that house, did not want me there.

I am just now picking up on the fact that I seem to not perceive an area of a house where a spirit seems to stay. That was solidified for me when a similar experience to my first story happened after Mary moved out of our house and in with her boyfriend. After being there several times, I noticed that even though I had been in the basement of the house, I couldn't seem to remember what half of it looked like.

It's like when I try to remember the second half of the room is a giant shadow, and just cuts off. Looking back now, that's how I remember the staircase past the fourth step from Ella's house, and the other half of the kitchen where the door to the basement was in the house that we looked at. It's like the rooms are voids, or that only those particular spaces have been wiped from my memory.

Mary eventually told me that they have a slightly antisocial but friendly spirit that likes to play jokes on them. They have named him Jeff. She said that he will hide in the basement when people come over.

I have so many more stories that I would like to submit at a later date if you'd like. I did want to pose the question to your listeners to see if anybody else has experienced anything like that, or has any kind of explanation. Thank you for all you do and for reading, and I look forward to all the episodes ahead of me. Stay well. Genie.

This next experience comes to us from Whitney. And Whitney's experience is called sound with no source.

When he says, This took place on a private property owned by my family in Northeast Alabama in the fall of 1992. My family owns a large farm in Edawa County. It was the ideal place to grow up, and I wouldn't take a million dollars for any of my childhood memories. Not even this one.

My sister and I, along with a couple of our same-aged cousins and one close family friend, experienced several odd and even terrifying things growing up on that land. This was before the time of Internet, when kids still played outside, and we regularly stayed out till well past dark, fishing, riding horses, building forts in the woods, and other outdoor adventures of all sorts.

For my entire life, I had experienced creepy things that always frightened me, and I have too many stories to tell, but this one took place after I was a bit older, around 11 to 13 years old or so. The days were shorter, and we didn't have much daylight once school let out, so me and our best childhood friend decided to settle up to of our horses and go for a ride. Our friend, myself, and my younger sister were seldom separate from each other, but she was afraid of horses, so she stayed behind.

We had raced up to a very high point that overlooked the land, and we were just sitting there enjoying the sunset and letting the horses catch their breath. When we caught sight of my sister running away from the house, and it was very apparent that something was wrong, we ran down to check on her, and when we got there she was frantic and out of breath.

She said that she was at home waiting for us to get done with the horses, but that noises in the house had creeped her out, so she decided to walk to our cousin's house. I didn't blame her because our house was haunted and scary, and I didn't like to stay there by myself either.

She then explained that once she got out of our driveway and started up the road, she could hear something coming up behind her. She said that it sounded like something dragging on the gravel road, but that she couldn't see anything. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn't get away from it, and it seemed to stay just out of sight. She first thought that it must have been a dog that had gotten loose from someone, and was dragging a leash or a chain, and the dog was just following her.

At this point, I said that we should go back that way and see what it was, and that was probably a dog or just some other animal, but she refused to get on either horse, so she and our friend waited there, and I rode ahead to check it out. By this time, it was very near dark.

I rode down the dirt road towards home, listening for the sound. Our property is very rural, and we only had one street light then. I rode to the light, and I stopped. The road started down a slight hill at this point, and the trees created a hollow where no light penetrated. I figured that this would be the best spot to see whatever it was. And sure enough, I could hear the sound coming towards us from the dark hollow.

I waited, and the sound came closer and closer. It did sound just like something being dragged on the gravel road. It was a constant sound, not like footsteps. Whatever it was was about to be visible in the light, so I stood my ground. At this point, my horse started to get nervous, which was completely out of character for him. He was as solid as a rock, and seldom ever spooked.

The sound finally broke out of the hollow and into the light, about 20 to 30 feet from us. However, there was absolutely nothing there. My horse was about to throw me off, but I was so stunned that I couldn't think. It got so loud that it seemed to fill up my head, and finally, my horse just turned and took off as fast as he could. And we left the sound behind.

When we got back to the others, I told them about what had happened, and we were also scared that we didn't know what to do, because we had to go back that way to get the horses home. Eventually, though, we did make it home and didn't hear the sound again that night, but for several nights following that, it could be heard going past our house, and up the hollow. Eventually, it stopped happening, and we've never heard it, ever again.

Our next experience of the night comes to us from Meghan. And Meghan says, Hey Nick, I have two experiences about paranormal encounters that my family and a friend encountered. As a side note, my family and friends are indigenous, which plays a part in these stories. The first story I'm going to call, Uninvited Guests.

This took place around 2007. My uncle's wife, named Robin, is an expert in her tribe's basket weaving techniques. She used to host classes at various indigenous cultural centers throughout the state that we live in. She decided to take a few years off due to her mother undergoing health issues. During that time, Robin made three baskets and gifted them to my mom for her wedding anniversary. I remember my mom being so excited and bragging that she got baskets from the famous Robin.

A short time later, after Robin's mom passed, she decided to start offering classes once again. One day, Aunt Robin stopped by my parents' house to ask if she could borrow the baskets that she had made for my mom to use as displays for her classes. Of course, my mom agreed.

Several months passed and Robin returned the baskets. My mom proudly returned them back to the brick mantle above our fireplace, which we never use. Things were quiet for days, but then my sister suddenly began to sleepwalk and opened the front door. She never had a history of sleepwalking until that week that those baskets came back. This was the first and only time that she opened the door, and things got even more strange.

One night, about an hour after we all went to bed, my door slammed open. I shot straight up in my bed, blinded by my hallway lights, and confused by what was going on. My sister was at the door, staring at me. Her hand was on my bedroom door knob, and she wasn't saying a word. What's wrong, Grace? I asked in concern. Did you have another nightmare? She didn't say anything.

She just stared right through me with a blank expression on her face. She then slowly turned and walked away, leaving my bedroom door open. I sat in my bed perplexed. After a while, though, I shrugged my shoulders and I got up to shut the door. I figured that she went to my parents' room to sleep with them.

I fell back asleep when my door flew open once again. Immediately I woke up, and I saw that this time my dad was standing at the door with the hallway lights on. It's time to get up, he quickly said. Unlike Grace, he immediately shut my door. I remember looking at my alarm clock, and it was three in the morning. I thought to myself that there was no way that he was up this early, and we didn't have anything planned that would warrant us to be up that early.

I groggily stared at my door in complete confusion. He usually woke me up by turning on my lights and singing awfully that it was time to get up. I was so confused that I couldn't decide if what happened was actually real or not. After about five minutes of contemplation, I decided that if it was real, then my dad would come and wake me up again.

Now it was around 8am when I woke up again. I got up and I went to go and find my dad. He was in his office and watching a sports channel since it was football season. I asked him if he remembered waking me up earlier, however he adamantly denied that he never did that. We argued for a bit until I gave up.

I thought it was strange, and decided to see what my mom was doing. She was in the master bedroom, finishing up, paying some bills. I said, hey mom, did Grace ever come in here last night? She was sleepwalking again, and she barged into my room this time, and then left. My mom looked at me and replied, no, she never left her room. I just stared at my mom. What about Dad? Did he get up at any point last night?

My mom shook her head and said, no, he was snoring loud last night. Well, it turns out years later that my parents were hiding a secret. Something dark had clung to the baskets my Aunt Robin had given back. My mom woke up shortly after that incident that I had with my dad with the same dreadful feeling that she had experienced when she was little. She felt a heavy, malevolent shadowy entity sitting on her chest, and she became temporarily paralyzed.

She woke my dad up once the feeling passed, and she said that there was dark magic coming from the living room. My dad then grabbed his Bible and began praying throughout the house. To this day, I think about those interactions and those things that were pretending to be my sister and my dad. They were adamant in luring me to the living room, but for what reason, I wasn't sure.

But I do wonder what would have happened if I had followed one of them. I wondered if my bedroom was protected by angels, since the entities never entered my room. My family believes that a jealous witch placed a curse on those baskets to hurt my aunt. My aunt was shocked when she heard what had happened, and always blessed her baskets before taking them to her classes.

My second story is called The Red-Eyed Creature. My friend Josh, an Indigenous college student and close family friend, decided to return to our rural hometown in Oklahoma during the summer semester. My cousin Eric had told him that our preacher at the nearby church we attended needed some additional help with mowing the lot that summer, and Josh agreed to help.

That next Saturday was a hot sticky and humid day. They all decided to meet right before dusk to start lawn maintenance since it was going to be cooler right then. Josh decided to show up about 30 minutes early to get all of the equipment out and ready for everyone. Josh forgot to grab his earplugs from his truck and he parked across the street since the entire parking lot was covered in grass.

As he was walking back to the church, he froze in his tracks. There standing in front of him was a huge deformed animal-like creature, and it was standing on all fours. The dimming light from the sunset exposed its mangy and rotting pelt. One leg was inched forward, and it was silently staring at the front of the church, waiting for something, or someone.

Josh didn't know what to do or think. He couldn't even move. His heart was pounding and felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Suddenly, the creature turned its enormous head. One side looked similar to a swollen owl's head, and its other side was completely mutilated with flesh dripping off its jaw. It was startled by Josh's appearance.

The creature had huge red eyes that were too big for the creature, and it stared right at him, as though it was studying Josh. Somehow it didn't even hear Josh walking to the church. At this point, the creature then belted out a large roar that pierced Josh's ears. It stood up on its hind legs, and it heavily barreled toward a line of trees a few yards away.

Josh could have sworn that he saw some red eyes slowly disappearing from the tree line where the demon had fled. He had a feeling that it was after the preacher at the church, as the preacher was always there on Saturdays. He believed that the church and the land were cursed by medicine men, and despite what happened that evening, Josh still goes out to help Mo, all the while whispering prayers, to deter the demons.

This next experience comes to us from Jenny, and Jenny's experience is called, for the love of Grandpa.

Jenny says, Hi Nick. For background, I'm a believer in all things paranormal, based on my upbringing and my own experiences. You see, my maternal grandmother was a musician and a tarot card reader, and quite bohemian for her time. As a family, we all experienced odd things in her New Jersey residence. An item would disappear, and after an exhaustive search, it would reappear exactly where it was.

I never was afraid as my grandmother enjoyed these happenings, and called the spirits, playful. Although my grandfather was her fifth husband, yes, fifth, he was the only grandfather I ever knew. He was older and not particularly a fan of young kids. However, I was the clear favorite, and he doted on me to the point where my siblings, cousins, and even my grandmother were a little jealous.

I often stayed overnight, happy to escape my own dysfunctional family, and enjoy the rare opportunity to feel spoiled. My grandfather's attention was a saving grace to my unhappy and often sickly youth. When he became ill in the late 1970s when I was nine years old, it was really upsetting to me. He could no longer navigate the stairwell to reach the only bathroom in the house.

So my dad installed a small half bath on the lower level of the home, where my grandpa now stayed full-time. I often hung out with him, sneaking him peppermint ice cream at his request, although he wasn't supposed to be eating it. He did silly magic tricks, and we played cards all day.

One evening, my grandmother called my mom in a panic. She had been giving herself a tarot card reading as she often did, and the King of Hearts card was being crossed by an ace of spades. She felt the cards were predicting the death of a loved one, and she redid the reading over and over, getting the same result each time. She knew that my grandfather was not expected to live much longer, but she was not mentally ready, I guess.

The doctor said that he would be here long enough to merit building the bathroom, and it had just been completed. We were all feeling like things were finally set up in a way that we could care for him, and we weren't expecting him to go just yet. However, he did in fact pass away the very next morning.

I was so young and so close to my grandfather that my parents thought that I would not be able to handle the funeral services, and I had to stay home. I felt sad and very left out. My grandmother left town to take a needed break after this, and she asked my father to take care of her home for a few weeks. I asked to join him on these house checks to feel included and somehow still connected to my grandfather.

My dad begrudgingly allowed me to come along every day. We would go and look around, turn on some random lights, and take in the mail, chat with the neighbors, and the like. One day though, about a week after we started this routine, my dad was adamant that I could not join him that day, and he had no explanation.

I was really mad. I was quite expressive as a kid, so I'm sure that everyone knew that I was not happy with this decision. Since I wasn't there myself, I will tell you what my father reported about his visit on that day.

He arrived at my grandmother's house after the 20-minute drive, and he had to pee really bad. After fiddling with the keys and the lock, he then started to climb the stairs to the upstairs bathroom. At this point, he claimed that he felt like he hit an invisible wall that made him stop in his tracks. He was puzzled by this, but then he recalled the half-bath that was just downstairs, only a few steps away, so he rushed there to relieve himself instead.

When he surveyed the empty house, he found everything in disarray. It was obvious that the home had been ransacked. He quickly picked up the phone, and this was in the 70s, so it was a regular old wall phone. However, there was no dial tone. Realizing the phone line had been cut, he ran to a neighbor's house to get help. Police arrived, and they found the intruder hiding in that upstairs bathroom, behind the shower curtain. He had tried to flee when the police entered, but he was caught.

The chilling part of this is that the man was armed, and surely would have reacted if my dad had rushed into that bathroom. We all wondered about many aspects of this strange experience. Why did my father not allow me to go that day? Well, according to him, he said that he was just not in the mood to hang around, and he wanted to make the visit a short one that day. But why did he feel stopped by some force on the stairwell before he even remembered about the new bathroom?

My dad could not explain this, but he was very thankful that it happened. As a believer in the spirits, my grandmother maintained that it was my grandpa that was looking over us. As a quick bonus happening, I can report that we continue to experience evidence of my grandpa's presence throughout the years. When I was graduating high school in 1984, I got to walk the ceremony with my cousin Matt as we were the same age.

Although my grandfather in life had been annoyed by the rambunctious boys in the family when we were young, he clearly loved all of us, and he would have been very proud on that day. It was a hot New Jersey day, and the graduation was standing room only, with the exception of limited seating. There was one open chair that was next to my grandmother, which was sat in over and over before the people who eagerly got to the seat would eventually look uncomfortable and would leave shortly after and go back to standing.

My mom relayed this strange happening to us afterwards, and my grandmother assured us that our grandpa had attended in spirit, and made sure that no one took over his seat. We were all skeptical, but it was hard to explain, and it was comforting, so we accepted it, and we joked about it over the years. Thank you for this amazing podcast. I always look forward to hearing everyone's interesting experiences. Jenny.

Before we continue, let's take our final break, and I'll be right back after these brief messages.

This experience comes to us from RD, and RD's experience is called Whistling Shapeshifter. RD says, Hello Nick, I have recently discovered your podcast and I became an instant fan. I also discovered that a certain event that took place in my life had some similarities as other stories that I've heard here.

Once I realized this, it was comforting at first, but terrifying that I wasn't alone in experiencing such events. I'd like to keep things as anonymous as possible, so I will give the state but not the town or names of people, and I will be using letters to replace the names. Thank you for understanding, and thank you to your community for being respectful.

I have grown up in the woods all my life. I have hunted, fished, explored, and walked these mountains all my life. So when it comes to being knowledgeable about the wilderness, I would like to think that I have a good enough understanding about them and what goes on within them, or so I thought. Don't get me wrong, I am not a survivalist by any means, but I do know the animals and the landscape well enough that I could tell what is what and where I am going, or where I was.

I grew up mostly in the New England area, and Vermont is where I was raised, and where all of this nightmare happened. I was 14 years old, and one of my favorite things to do during the summer was, after me and my friends went swimming in the river, a couple of us would like to randomly choose a spot in the tree line of the woods, and we would go and explore.

Sometimes it was the same spot, and sometimes it was a completely different area. Some of the journeys would be five to ten minutes, while there were other times that we would be gone for a couple of hours. The woods always gave me this sense of calm, as if I belonged there within the dancing and looming pines and maple trees. So being in the woods for a great deal of time was no issue for me.

One night, a bunch of the usual group of kids was missing, as the group was usually eight or nine kids including me, however we were scarce in numbers that day. After we went swimming and got all dried off, we noticed that we had stayed a little later than usual, so some of us started gathering up our belongings and began to head home. One of my good friends, Ann, was wanting to explore, though.

The sun was falling pretty fast, and I knew that time was not on our side, but I figured that if we timed it just right, a quick little journey would be manageable. So I spoke up, and I told En that I would go for sure. The others had various reasons not to participate in our journey, ranging from their mothers wanting them to be home by the time the streetlights were on to dinner was done, or just simply saying no, because night was upon us.

So it was just N and I, and we were about to find a spot to enter on the tree line when I asked him what area do we want to enter. I remember being on a knee and packing a couple waters and some snacks in my rope sack and looking up to ask N again, and I noticed that he was staring off at this section of the woods. I figured that he was just spacing out and thinking, so I slapped his shoulder and I asked, ground control to space cadet N, and he turned and chuckled and asked if we could go over there.

He was pointing in the direction he was staring, oh so intently at. Now, I don't get scared easily. In fact, I am one of the lucky few that only have a couple of phobias, although I do believe my phobias to be outlandish compared to others.

I have the lassophobia, which is the fear of deep bodies of water, and I am also absolutely terrified of ceramic dolls due to a bizarre event in my past. But once end pointed to that certain area, the back of my head was telling me no, and to avoid it for some reason, and it made me very uneasy.

Now we usually only ventured on the tree line on the left side of the river for a couple of reasons. One, being that our small town was on that side, so if anything happened such as an emergency, we could get help and there would be back roads all over that side of the mountain, so if we got lost we could easily find our way back.

The second reason was that the right side of the river was a vast amount of land and had no access to any back roads or civilization. This was before cell phones exploded onto the scene, so cell phone towers were rare, and cell phones were super expensive. All of us small-town folk could never really afford them, or didn't really have much of a reason to own one.

I double checked to make sure that we had water and snacks, and I had a tiny med kit that my grandmother always made me bring. It consisted mostly of band-aids, medical tape, and gauze, the usual stuff that you could find in the prepackaged little kits. I stood up after double checking, and N asked if we were ready. We then crossed the river on large rocks, and jumped across them to avoid getting our feet wet, and we managed to get to the brushline fairly dry.

I watched N go into the brush first, and I watched as the low-hanging limbs and brush swallowed him whole, as he walked into the woods. I followed N into the brush and limbs, and once we broke the tree line, all of that uneasy feeling melted away. The rows of pines and carpet of pine needles that settled on the forest floor was calming, and my heart was relaxed.

We walked for a good twenty-five to thirty minutes. We did the usual teenage boy thing, swinging sticks at trees or joking about crushes, all the while poking each other to make each other laugh. I was looking into the sky, attempting to find the falling sun, so I could at least get a gauge of the remaining time that we had before darkness fell. But I was interrupted by an exciting end, yelling, oh this is sick, check this out RD.

Side note here, whenever someone from New England says that something is sick, it doesn't mean gross or disgusting. It usually means that something is cool or awesome. So, I stopped what I was doing and I rushed over to see what had him all up and about, and it was a super old and long stone wall.

Now, for those who don't know, the New England area is littered with these walls everywhere. The majority of our back roads run parallel to these relics of the past, so it's not rare or uncommon to find them off in the woods. The wall was about 4 feet high and ran for about 20 feet down the slope, and it ended at a giant boulder, but it also continued up the mountain. We were so into what we had just found, that we totally forgot about the outside world.

At this point, Anne mentioned that we should follow it up to see if we could find more, so I looked up to the sky and I still could see the falling sun and figured that we had plenty of time. And I told him, yeah, we could do that. However, now that I'm looking back on it, I really wish that I had told him that we should turn around.

We followed that wall of the mountain, and at this point we were now an hour on foot, deep into the woods. I was starting to grow concerned as the sun was no longer visible, and I was hoping that we could find our way back. Then En started yelling all excited again, so I jogged ahead, and I saw what he was all excited about.

A piece of that stone wall ended up butting up against a 15 by 15 square. The square was four feet high, and it was made of the same stones as the wall, and we both looked at each other and said, foundation, at the same time. We knew that this was the foundation for an old house, and it was one of the coolest things that we had ever seen.

and was looking inside the massive rock foundation and I was wandering around the outside of it. When I saw something strange, it looked kind of like a sweatshirt at first in the distance. I walked up to it though, and it definitely was not a sweatshirt. It was a pile of squirrels, a pile of dead squirrels. I figured that a bird must have dropped its dinner, and I squatted down over it, poking and moving the pile with a stick.

I noticed all of the squirrels were intact except for the top parts of their bodies. They were all missing their heads and upper body as if something took a bite and then just discarded them. I counted them and I yelled to Anne to check this out. We both counted four squirrels. Anne asked me if I had ever seen anything like this because he knew that I was raised in the outdoors and I hunted.

However, I told him that I had never seen anything like this, and that no animal would do this, at least not around these parts. What I didn't tell him, though, was what sent electricity down my spine, and made my stomach sink. Some of the squirrels were still limp, and the blood was wet, meaning that some of those squirrels were freshly killed.

A sense of fear of the unknown flooded my head, trying to think of a rational explanation for this, but there just wasn't a single one. I then turned and I told En that we had to go now. He was visibly shaking, and he agreed that yes, we should get going. We headed back to the foundation, and we followed the wall down that we followed up, and I kept glancing up at the sky, and hoping the light would last.

We walked down the mountain, which felt almost twice as long as the trip up the mountain. Halfway through the return trip, we lost our light. The sun had fallen and was replaced by the pale moonlight. Thankfully, though, the moon emitted a bright enough light for us to see, so it was not total darkness. Once darkness fell, we didn't speak a word to each other, and we just focused on watching our feet. There was no trail or walkways. It was all woodlands, tree stumps, rocks, falling branches,

and ledges were everywhere. Then I heard it, the noise that still to this day thinking about it makes my stomach curl and my veins fill with eyes. I heard a faint whistle. I grabbed the back of ends hoodie and I asked him if he had heard that as well. He stopped and stared into the darkness, focused on listening, and after a moment he said that he didn't hear anything. I then put my finger to my lips and I said,

Listen for a sec. We waited a minute and it was completely silent. I knew something was wrong right then. We were deep in the woods and I didn't hear a single animal noise. No insect noise, no animals, just pure silence. The type of silence when you can only hear your own heartbeat.

Then, as I was getting more and more nervous and the anticipation had my heart jumping out of my chest, we heard it again. Ben picked up his head and stared at me, and I was staring back at him. It was a tune. The whistling was louder and more clear, but it was definitely in the form of a tune.

I grabbed his shoulder and I pulled him down so that we were both on one knee. I put my finger to my mouth again. And he nodded. The whistling then got louder and louder, but it stopped at a certain volume. Certain parts of the whistling was filled in with humming. It was a deep and gritty hum. I remember hearing the humming and it making the hairs on my body shoot up, and at this point my heart wanted to explode.

The whistling and humming sounded like it was just to the left of us, maybe 50 feet at most. Just then, N went to readjust his body and knelt down and snapped something below his knee. When it snapped, the whistling stopped immediately. We looked at each other, both scared. It was dead silent for what felt like an eternity. And then, we heard it. A female voice. Hello? Are you there? I need help.

We just looked at each other, and stayed silent. We both knew there would be no one up here. There's no trails or paths, and this side of the mountain is just forest. I looked over En's shoulder, and I saw a break in the tree line, thinking it was a field or an opening. I tapped his shoulder, and I pointed at the opening, and he nodded again. Then the voice echoed on the mountain once again, saying in a female voice,

Hello? I know you're there. I need help. This time, though, it sounded to be only 20 feet away. I held up three fingers to N, and I started folding them down one by one. Once the last finger folded, we both ran as fast and as hard as we could.

I must have fallen over so many logs and rocks, but all I knew was that my body was telling me that I needed to get away as fast as possible, or I would die. And fell just as much as I did, but we never slowed down, and once we reached the clearing, thank God it was indeed a field.

We kept running through the field, not looking back until we got to the other end of it. We both flopped onto our stomachs, lying in the tall grass. I was trying to be quiet while fighting my breath, and we both waited to see if we were safe. It was dead silence in the air, and the only thing that I could consistently hear was my heartbeat and my ears. Then, across the field, we heard a male voice that boomed and echoed.

Run, run, run, little ones. We both stood up as fast as we could, and we ran down the mountain, for what felt like ours. We reached the bottom of the mountain and found an old logging road that bridged over the river and connected to a back road that was part of a fork by the river. We never stopped until we touched that back road. My lungs felt like they were going to explode, and my legs were cut and bleeding through my jeans.

We sat there for a minute trying to catch our breath, but then N hit my chest and pointed at the tree line by the logging road. It was then that we heard sticks breaking and stuff moving around. I was staring at the tree line, seeing little spots of the tree line as my brain was trying to fill in the darkness. At this point, a coyote came out of the tree line and walked around on the back road. It walked a couple of circles and then returned to the tree line.

What I saw will forever be burned into my head. The coyote then went behind a cluster of trees, and when it came back out the other side of the trees and bushes, it was a tall black shadow. It looked human, but it didn't have a solid outline or form, if that makes sense.

It had long arms and thin legs, and just stood there between the trees, staring. N and I couldn't stop watching, trying to figure it out, and somehow piece a logical explanation to this whole night. We kept quiet, and I told them that we needed to leave, now.

As we started moving, we heard it once again echoing to the little valley. It was the same whistling. We made it back to town and we made it to my house, and we didn't talk about it for the remainder of the night. No one knows what happened that night, besides Oz.

I am still in contact with En, but he refuses to talk about it to this day, and I also have never told a soul. Well, until now. I still go out in the woods and hunt or explore, but I avoid that side of the mountain to this very day, and I am now 33 years old.

As for the whistling tune, I tried for years to find out what it was. Even with the internet and countless hours of looking, I never found a clue of the song. Of course, I only had some whistling and some nightmarish humming to go off of, so it was difficult. That is, until one day at a family gathering.

I was sitting in a chair whistling that tune that was engraved into my head. It was then that my great grandmother sat forward in her walker, and she asked me how I knew that song. Obviously, I couldn't tell her the real reason, so I made up an excuse about the radio.

She told me the name of the song, and said that it was super old, and that it was well before her time, and she only knew of it because her mother used to hum and sing a version of it. Sure enough, when I got home and looked it up on Google, I found it. It's called The Nightingale. It's a folk song that goes back to the 17th century, but it was officially published in 1690.

This next experience comes to us from Brad, and Brad's experience is called Sarah. Hi Nick, this story is about a ghost girl named Sarah. Like my previous story, this one starts with my late granny.

We were brought up Catholic, so talks of magic and witchcraft were forbidden and deemed as evil. But as saintly as my grandmother was, I am convinced that she had a gift of healing and making things happen if she needed your attention. She was the definition of a healer and even trained as a nurse.

Unfortunately, cancer took her when I was seven years old, so I never had the chance to get to know her. But from the few memories that I have, one stands out that serves as a possible link to magic. We were raised by my mom and my grandparents in their house, so as kids we were always in the garden, playing with toys, making mud pies and our own fairy villages because my grandmother always told us about the fairies in the garden.

My mom and her cousins all say that my grandmother should have written a book with her stories, not because they were bountiful, but because of their detail. She had the gift to tell a story, but the details were as if she was speaking from experience. Her family came from Ireland, so I am somewhat convinced that she could see the fay, or was from it.

My mom has no gift, nor does my brother, so I am certain her gift was passed down to her two other grandchildren, my sister and myself. My sister never talks about the paranormal, but I can tell that she is the healer. She is following in my grandmother's footsteps, but as a kindergarten teacher.

She has her patience and can diffuse an argument with soothing words. I, on the other hand, am drawn to nature and have the gift of sight, visions, and dreams. As a young kid, I used to get premonitions about when a guest would visit or when bad news was coming. It was like my party trick, and I never understood how I knew.

I just did, and 9 out of 10 times, my premonitions would come true. When bad news was coming, I would go into what I can only describe as a severe anxiety attack. The intense sense of dread that came over me was too much for me to handle, at such a young age.

After my last dark premonition, my aunt, who was like a second grandmother to me, sat me down and told me that it can all stop if I ask God and the angels to help me. As a good Catholic boy, I did exactly that, and it worked. She told me that God was using me to send messages, but if I didn't want it, I just had to explain. My aunt is 100% gifted, so she knew what I was going through, and it worked, because I put intent behind the plea.

I was so desperate that the result was more than I had bargained for. The dreaded feeling was gone, like a weight off my shoulders, but my abilities to see and feel the good had also gone. I remember that moment so well because it was like I was seeing life through different lenses. Something had shifted, and it was noticeable. I was convinced I had prayed my gift away, but the older I got, the more aware I became of that.