Horror Story

Posted: March 8, 2016 in Uncategorized

I have lots of stories. It’s taken me a long time to say this, but after talking extensively with the best friend of my friend’s mom, who is a psychic, I am starting to think I have some sort of… I dunno, ability. I grew up in a haunted town in a notoriously haunted Midwestern state. Around my 5th birthday I started to sometimes have dreams about tragedy or dangerous situations and then those things would happen sometime later and I would respond in a way that was against my instincts but ended up stopping or avoiding the problem. Then I started to feel energies in rooms. Now I often go to places that are supposedly haunted and have experiences and many times the energies I used to feel in a given house have since shown themselves to me as spirits/ghosts/whatever. Anyway, I have lots of stories but only two of them are at all frightening to me. This is the only one that actually scares me still to this day. It’s a long story, so bear with me.

I moved away from home to attend college about 8 years ago. My freshman year was when I was really starting to pick up on this stuff. One night some friends and I were sitting around bored because we couldn’t find any parties and I happened to mention that “I think I might be starting to see stuff, like ghosts and stuff, sometimes.” My friend L was, like most people who hear this, very skeptical and was all, “prove it!” She was a townie, and she told us about a graveyard not far from town that has a very creepy history and suggested we drive out to see what it was like. She said that there had been some very disturbing stories but that no one ever believed anyone. Her thinking was that if I really had this like, gift, I would be able to prove her doubt.

The graveyard is on a road that was very very remote back before roads and stuff made it easier to get to. It is still very difficult to get out there. A small cult-like group had a settlement out there. The church is still standing, and you can see it far in the distance from the road. There is a graveyard behind the church, so I assumed that’s where we were going. But my friend said, “no, not that one.” Turns out there is another, much smaller graveyard about a mile and 1/2 down the road. The legend explains why.

The pastor of the church had a young wife who had married him as a mail order bride from some place in Eastern Europe. Not long after she arrived the church hired a young teacher from a nearby college to come teach the children of the community. The teacher and the pastor’s wife began an affair. The wife was a witch or whatever, and soon she had turned her young lover onto the occult as well. As two of the most influential people in the community, they were able to spread this throughout the community to some extent. One night the pastor found her diary and discovered the affair. Intending to catch the two lovers, he went to the teacher’s small house but instead of two people making love he found a small group of his flock being led by his wife in some sort of ritual. The town decided the only thing to do was to hang the wife, the teacher, and everyone- adults and children- who had been caught in that house. Then they buried the “witches and warlocks” upside down in their graves in a separate graveyard. The rationale behind this is that supposedly when the Rapture comes, the undead as well as all those souls who were mixed up in the occult, will rise from their graves like zombies and kill us all. These people are buried like this so that they will only crawl their way further into their graves instead. That fact alone gave me the chills.

Anyway, the night we go see this place it’s frigidly cold. About 4 inches of freshly fallen snow covered the ground. It was the kind of quiet you might only know if you’ve ever been out in the countryside in the dead of winter… the kind that is deafeningly silent… a complete absence of anything living. You could hear a pin fall. Only L and another friend, K, wanted to get out of the car. We get out of the car and the first thing I notice is that this graveyard is creepier than any other one I’ve ever seen. It is surrounded by an iron-wrought fence like a lot of cemeteries, but this one has HUGE pointed spikes along the top. And get this… in the center of the cemetery is another fence that surrounds just two graves. I think this was the wife and the teacher. My friends were freaking out just seeing the place, and I was a little uneasy too. But I had grown used to this feeling of unease so I decided I would jump the fence and take a look around. K sticks around by the gate but doesn’t go in with us. She picks up this neat looking rock lying by the gate and puts it in her pocket. My skeptic friend L came with me. I go up to this smaller fence and see that there is actually a mother fo-in CAGE surrounding those two graves. Another shiver goes up my spine. The words “leave us be” are graffitied on the top of one of the headstones. I begin to sense that there is someone in the far corner to the right of me, watching. I’m more interested in what the fuck why is there a cage over these graves? L says something stupid about “you stupid slut, you deserve to be locked up in a cage.” I hear a guttural growl come from that corner. She hears it too and takes of running for the car where our other friends are waiting. I look over to where I think it’s coming from, but I don’t see anything, but I was certain something was still there in the graveyard with me, it must have just moved. I sense it behind me. This overwhelming feeling that I can’t describe comes over me. The best way to explain it is that it was a primal thing, a feeling of being prey and my unseen predator was VERY near. I mean, it was so intense! I become convinced the shadow is stalking me. I say to myself, in my head, “what is that? what do I do?” I “hear” a muffled voice that is very very similar to the one who warns me in my dreams to “run. Run as fast as you can. Never come back.” I don’t think twice, I RUN. The whole time I can sense something chasing me. As I’m running my friend, R starts screaming. The car door was barely even closed and we’re taking off, driving way too fast for the snow down this very curvy, not oft traveled country road. And my friends are still screaming. Finally we get back to the main highway and they relax a little. I tell them about the voice and ask them why they were screaming. K says, “we thought we saw a dark tall figure in the corner, and when you and L came running to the car, it chased you and I could swear it had bright red eyes.”

This is not the scariest thing about this story.

We get home and K shows us this rock. Then she goes and puts it in her car cause she wants to paint it all pretty and put it in her house. We all snuggle in on the couches and fall asleep watching tv. K is the first to leave the next morning because she has to go to work. We’re all supposed to go see her at her work for lunch. We get to the restaurant and ask for her section and the hostess says, “didn’t you guys hear? She was in a wreck on the way here and she’s in the hospital.” We call her mom. K’s car is totaled and she’s in a medically induced coma. I ask what happened. Her mom says, “we don’t know yet. When they brought her in, K just kept saying, ‘it was the rock, the rock made me crash.” R and I are FREAKED OUT. We ask her mom if we can see the car because we think we left some school books in the backseat. We find the rock. We take it back to the cemetery and put it back exactly where we found it. An hour later we get a call from K’s mom. She’s suddenly better. Her arm is broken and she has some kracked ribs but she’s going to be fine. The doctors can’t explain her miraculous recovery. When we are alone she tells us that she was driving to work when the rock, which was in the backseat, flew up and hit her hard on the head from behind before falling next to the stickshift. She said it was like someone was sitting behind her and hurled it at her. She looked down at it and when she picked it up it was hot like a coal and a voice from the backseat where it would have been thrown said “I said to leave us ALONE!”

Since then K has lived in several apartments, even went to France for a semester, and she swears that something follows her everywhere she goes. Things get moved, or she’ll leave food out and it will be eaten when she comes back in the room, things like that. I have visited her in these homes, and that very same feeling of something flat out EVIL stalking me around the house follows me whenever I visit.





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