#ghoststories

Hell House: Drums in the Deep

Hell House had a curious habit that even our guests would notice. It could happen in the day, but was almost assured to happen at night, starting around 10pm and ending at 1.30am. My family called it the Drums in the Deep cuz we are all nerds who love LotR. To be honest though, it was more like the Jumanji drums. Rhythmic, deep drums from the basement.

It always started really quiet, like the house had a heart beat barely audible over the TV or conversation, but come midnight it was sometimes so loud it was impossible to sleep through. I wish I could tell you that I went into the basement while the drums beat to see what it was. I wish I had even one story of me being brave enough to look. But I don’t. The drums scared me to death. Usually when they started I would retreat to my room with headphones and loud music, or a friend’s house out of fear.

Hell House: Ticking Clocks

As I mentioned in Red Rom Part 3, I had chosen to take my grandma’s room when my parents decided to move into her house less than a week after she died. The first night we slept in her house, it was still filled to the brim with her food, her things, and her scent. Her room was really creepy, but was the only room that didn’t have any scary stories about it, so that was the room I took. That first night I slept surrounded by her wig heads with faces painted on them and boxes filled with reeking perfume bottles.

But the worst thing was the fact that she had at least ten ticking clocks in her room, on the wall, on shelves, on the floor, and in boxes. These clocks did not tick in unison, so the room was filed with a constant uneven clicking nightmare. The next morning I puled all her things out of the room and found all the clocks. I thought my grandma was mad to sleep with so many clocks, and it was so nice to sit in the room without the ticking… At first.

The second night I slept with my light on because as soon as the sun set and the room went dark, the ticking continued. One solid ticking clock still ticked. Loudly. When the light was on though, the room was silent. I showed my parents and their answer was to just leave the light on, or bring the clocks back in. I realized that grandma had all those clocks to hide the fact that the room ticked all on its own. After those two nights I always had ONE clock in there ticking to hide the fact that I had moved into a nightmare.

Hell House: The Red Room Part 2

One of my mother’s favorite ghost stories is the Red Room, partially because of what her sister experienced, but mostly because of what I experienced when I was two years old, so this must have been in 1993. She was pregnant with my brother, and decided to spend the night with grandma, who had lived alone in Hell House for years. At that time, the red room had been repurposed as a nursery for me, and my soon to be brother. This was where I was laid down to sleep in a baby bed while my mom and grandma had coffee and chitchat at the kitchen table.

To mom’s surprise, I toddled into the kitchen at around 1:30a and asked her to tellthe bright lights in the room to leave me alone. Mom and grandma shared a terrified look and piled all of us into my mom’s van and we all spent the night in our first house, which had no paranormal activity at all, instead.

jonasgoonface:

I have a story about the anti-homeless ronald mcdonald bench sculpture. 

halloween bumpin