Episode Transcript
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(00:00):
Hey, what's up guys? And welcome back to another 4
Chan Stories video. And today we're going to be
getting into some terrifying true 4 Chan stories.
You guys love the true stories. I love them as well.
And they're from 4 Chan, so, youknow, they have pretty good
stories on there. So thank you so much for
stopping by. Please sit back, relax, and
yeah, get ready to listen to some terrifying true 4 Chan
stories. Please like the video and
(00:21):
subscribe to the channel. It helps so much.
You don't even know. And I just appreciate you
stopping by. And all right, without further
ado, let's get into some terrifying true 4 Chan stories.
Preface, my cousin's a good man.Working guy, no college because
he was military and then effed up with drugs.
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Quit him the day he had his first kid, though, and he's been
clean as a whistle ever since. He's gruff occasionally to the
point of dickishness, but he's good at heart.
He quits drugs like I say and hedoes contracting work for
assault. 30 years to support hiskids.
Invested the retirement fund into a can't miss company his
old friend recommends supposedlyon the back of insider
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information. Company goes under and my cousin
who has sold his own very small business is back to square one
at age 60. So he buys a big ass cargo van
and takes the road driving loadsof whatever anyone needs moved
to anywhere they need it moved. These are his stories, not mine.
One cuz has been on the road fora few months at this point.
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He's made enough money to upgrade his van and he's got a
decent little setup in. Turns out you can buy vans that
have little cots that fit nicelyinto the ceiling of the vehicle.
And if there's room in his load,he just takes the cot down and
sleeps in the back of the van tosave money on hotels.
So he's rushed delivering a loadof bolts from this wholesaler in
Indiana to a tool and dive shop in North Carolina.
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Wasn't even going to take the job.
He's already driven 10 hours that day, and you're supposed to
not exceed a certain number of hours in a given period.
But he's a private contractor and nobody regulates this shit.
Besides, rush deliveries pay damn nicely, especially when
there's a motivated buyer at thefar end of the run.
Maps out a nine hour route SE through Kentucky and Tennessee
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into North Carolina. Leaves at 6:30 PM, Load needs to
be in an hour before open of business next day, IE at 8:00
AM, meaning he has 12 1/2 hours to make the 9 hour trip.
Loses one hour from CTTET, loadsup on coffee and gas and takes
off like a bat out of hell. Hard driving a dust through
unfamiliar states, especially asyou get up into the
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Appalachians. He starts to nod despite the
coffee as he approaches the Tennessee slash North Carolina
border. He's about 5 hours in at this
point, and that makes 15 of the past 17 hours total.
Remember, he's clean, so he can't use any crank to stay
awake. Decides to pull over in the
middle of nowhere up in the mountains, Dark as shit.
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Takes a random exit since he can't find any rest stops.
Pulls off the freeway. No signs regarding gas stations,
restaurants, nothing anywhere. Insight At the end of the on
ramp is a stop sign and a long straight old ass Rd. stretching
off in either direction. Turns right and tries to find a
business or something to park inand catch a few winks.
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Nothing anywhere. Finally sees a little gravel Rd.
peeling off the main road after apparently 5 miles of nothing.
Pulls over, parks the car and gets outside.
Warm and wet. It's the middle of summer.
Even though he's in the mountains.
Bugs are loud as shit. Yanks up in the back of the van
door, climbs up, takes down his cot on top of the boxes, sets it
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up, closes the door, locks it, and settles in for two hours of
sleep before he starts again. Sets 3 alarms as always.
Sleeping. Thump.
He wakes up, the bugs are silent, his heart is going
crazy, he's worried he was dreaming.
Tries to steady his breath. Thump.
Something smashing into the sideof the van.
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A loud piercing scream from outside.
Now the van can't be unlocked from the outside, but he also
can't get to the front of the van from the back of the van.
There's a wall between the seatsand the back end.
So my cousin's out in the middleof nowhere in the mountains with
something screaming and slamminginto the van in the middle of
the night with no cell service and no way to get out of here
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without going outside. Thump.
Trying to think of what he can do and try not to fucking panic.
He is up in the mountains and all of a sudden he's worried
that whatever is out there is trying to push him off a Cliff
or something. It screams again.
He has no gun, just a large pocket knife and a tire iron
light bulb. Takes his keys and hits the
alarm button. The van starts going ape shit
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and whatever is out there reallydoes not like it.
Starts smashing the van wildly. Then it screams I know you're in
there, come the fuck out. Oh great, it's some random
fucking hillbilly hopped up on meth.
Smashes in the driver's side window and starts frantically
rummaging through cousin's stuffcuz here's his opportunity.
Grab his attire, iron in one hand and holds the knife closed
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in the other, flings open the back end of the truck and
sprints around the van. By the flashing alarm lights,
Cousin sees that the meth head is completely naked and covered
in his own blood. Meth head charges at him.
He sidesteps and whips the tire iron right into the dude's
fucking skull. Guy crumbles to the ground.
Cousin frantically raises back, closes the back door, hops in
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the van and drives straight through to the delivery site in
North Carolina. Leaves the fucking meth head in
a heap on that dirt Rd. He was way too fucking wired to
sleep for days afterwards and stayed in hotels for a while
after that, even after his windows was repaired and even
though it was expensive as shit,there was no car, bike, or
evidence that the meth head got to the van except by walking.
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My cousin claims that he scouredGoogle News for reports of a
dead man found out there for months but none of her came in
so God only knows whatever happened to that fucking guy.
My cousin bought a gun before leaving North Carolina, so my
cousins learned his lesson aboutnever fucking driving loads
without a gun and he ends up needing that gun in another
story I could tell. It's not really paranormal per
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se, but if people are into hearing it I'll write it up.
He's also learned, like a lot ofdrivers do, that the real money
is out West driving long ass halls to various pod on gold
mining towns still trying to stay alive in the mountains and
or the desert. That's big open unforgiving
country and there aren't many people willing to and or capable
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of driving across every 12 hourstrying to beat a deadline.
There are even fewer drivers youcan count on to do it
consistently, since just about all the ones willing to do it in
the first place are souped up onmeth, coke, whatever the fuck
else will keep them up long enough to see a delivery through
to the completion. My cousin, as we've established,
is clean and has been for a verylong time.
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He's a hard worker, he's desperate for cash, and he's got
a good van. He doesn't make excuses and he
doesn't get pulled over driving loads of shit he hasn't weighed.
All this means that my cousin isa very in demand man.
And what's more, it means that he ends up doing a lot of high
leverage jobs. Jobs that need to be done
quickly and correctly, and as such, jobs that pay very, very
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well. Our second story begins with my
uncle being asked to do such a job.
A good trustworthy dispatcher has a client who needs a shit
load of parts delivered to his business in Flagstaff for an
order that needs to be assembledand sent off ASAP.
They need the arts by tomorrow. Roblem is my uncle's in Denver
and that's an 11 hour drive through hard mountains and
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desert. Making matters worse, the load
is technically too heavy for hisvan.
The client is desperate, however, and the dispatcher is
willing to pay a ludicrous amount of money to get these
things there on time. I'm talking $3000 for 11 hours
of work with gas paid for. So fine.
My cousin, sorry, called him uncle in the Last Post.
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I've always called him Uncle Bill since he's so much older
than me. I assure you that he is in fact
my cousin and not my uncle. Hooks up with the dispatcher and
they load the van as full as it's ever been.
If a cop pulls him over, my cousin is fucked.
He sets out plenty early after afull night's rest.
Unlike the North Carolina incident, most of the drive is
uneventful, though a cop does pull alongside my cousin in Utah
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and I am suspiciously before peeling off to pull over a
speeder. My cousin head South through
Navajo Nation just as the sun begins to set.
This is his first time in the nation and he's going in with
the darkness. Yes, you do know where this is
going. It's creepy out there in the
middle of nowhere. My cousin says he happens to
just get the most beautiful night stars as far as the eye
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can see. He feels like his van could just
lift off right off that old ass highway and float off through
them. He's passing the time pleasantly
enough, thinking back to time spent on the reservation back in
the Midwest. We're part Ajobi when something
catches the corner of his eye. Black blurs fitting along the
very edge of his brights, off tothe left and way far ahead.
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He turns his head as he drives past, but of course he can't see
anything since it's dark as hell, but the shapes persist.
He rubs his eyes, shakes his head, and tries to refocus on
the road, but they're still there.
He's gone several miles now, butthe shapes are staying in front
of him. He wonders if there's something
wrong with his headlights, maybea dead bug on one of them.
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Then there's a long, flat patch of desert illuminated by the
moon, and he gets his first goodlook.
Wolves, maybe 1/4 of a mile directly to the left of his car.
Nah, one wolf running weirdly but keeping up with him.
As soon as he thinks this, the wolf starts to lag behind a bit,
and he has to deliberately remind himself to pay attention
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to the road so that he doesn't veer off of it.
But when he checks back, the wolf is still lingering, still a
quarter mile off, still shuffling weirdly about
perpendicular to his blind spot.He's loose in it, he decides.
No fucking way, right? But the wolf keeps going.
And then something happens, my cousin says, which he will never
forget. He doesn't like to tell this
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story, or any story really. He's a quiet dude and in fact
only told me after we had seen one another for the first time
in over a year and after we've been up all night at a family
event. But he swears it's true disturb.
He checks for cops and bumps hisvan up to 80 miles an hour
trying to leave the fucking weird ass cheetah wolf behind.
For a second it seems like the wolf is fully behind them and
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he's satisfied, but then the hair on the back of his neck
stands up and he breaks out in acold sweat.
Something twitches in the cornerof his eye.
He looks over his shoulder. It's the fucking wolf.
It's keeping up with him again, only this time it's running on
its hind legs. My cousin takes a double take,
eyes bugging out of his fucking head, and floors it.
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Then the wolf takes an angle of pursuit.
He's frantically looking over his shoulder now and back at a
speedometer, hardly glancing at the road.
The wolf is drawing closer even as my cousin pushes the pedal
down. Before too long, the wolf is
running on the edge of the road.Then slowly it starts to veer
across the other lane. About a mile ahead, my cousin
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sees two big headlights barreling down the opposite
lane. He decides he's going to do
everything in his power to make sure that the semi hits the
fucking wolf, because he is in afull on fucking adrenaline
field. Panic, gulping, sweating so
badly his hands are slipping on the wheel, breathing loudly
through his mouth. The wolf keeps inching closer.
Finally, my cousin flat out floors it with everything he's
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got. The engine winds straining
against the heavy load. The semi barrels towards them,
and in the instant before the semi hits the wolf, blaring its
horn as loudly as it can, the wolf is right next to my
cousin's driver's side window. I've never heard built lie
before. This is what he says happens.
I don't know what to believe. It presses its body flat against
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the car and it stretches into black shadow.
Eventually, he swears it takes on a humanoid form with
exaggerated facial features thatit presses against his window as
the semi blazes past. It smashes its huge eyes and
Cheshire cat grin flat against his window to the point where it
fogs up on the outside. He can't tear his eyes from its
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eyes. It's the most malicious smile
he's ever seen, and something feels wrong.
Icy cold in the very core of them.
Once the semi has passed, the thing leaps away, shrieking with
ears, splitting laughter and perching on a nearby rock.
My cousin can hardly breathe, and he vomits into the sea next
to him and continues to floor it.
The thing stays behind, screaming and gasping with
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laughter. He makes it to the drop, still
fucking cold and nauseous, and you can't look the client in the
eye. He smells like vomit, and he
tells the client this story again.
Bill's a very quiet in a very private dude.
He must have been very shaken tosay anything about this shit to
a stranger. The client is certain that he's
drunk, and my cousin never delivers for him or drives
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through the nation again. At the urging of one of the
workers of the client's warehouse, Cuzz goes to see a
Navajo medicine man who brushes him with feathers and gives him
a blessing. My cousin pukes again and feels
right as rain. And that's the story of the time
my cousin met a skinwalker. All right, I've got a handful
more of little ones if anyone was interested.
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They're not stories, most of them, just odd things cuz ran
across out on those roads. Takers.
Or should I get some sleep? All righty, let's see.
Well, he once saw either a very large alligator or a crocodile
basking in the middle of a highway in Eastern Washington
state. Apparently it was an escaped
pet, but he felt like an insane person when he called the cops
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to let him know that an animal that does not and has not for
literally millions of years livein their state was just chilling
and basking in the middle of theroad.
Some random and extremely creepywoman with very pale skin and
long straight black hair followed him through three
states, Louisiana, Arkansas, andTennessee, usually pulling
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alongside him and glaring at himangrily from the adjoining lane,
refusing to pass or drop behind them no matter how fast or slow
he was driving. Couple of guys try to car Jack a
load of paper. Literally printer paper.
They didn't believe him when he told them how worthless his
cargo was off of him in Gary, INuntil he waved his gun at them.
Finally, he drove through a random town in southern Illinois
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in which seemingly everyone was outside in the front yard doing
nothing at all but watching the cars go by.
They weren't like completely motionless or anything, but they
all did seem to be watching the road very intently, like
multiple hundreds of people. He said it was extremely
unsettling. I can give more background for
any of those if you want. I'll try to remember some other
ones in the meantime. The one about the whole town
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being in their front yard soundslike a straight up horror movie.
I'd fucking lose it if I saw that right.
I mean, to hear him tell it, it was about as normal as such a
thing could be. People were out in lawn chairs,
some kids were running around, some people were eating and or
talking to one another, there were dogs and shit like that.
It wasn't like everyone was frozen, Jaws, the gape,
etcetera, but they were all facing the road and looking at
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it kind of expectantly. He said it felt like he was
driving through the middle of aninvisible parade.
The lady one is legitimately spook.
The thought of being followed ortracked or stalked by something
unnatural is fucked. I should clarify this wasn't a
ghost or anything like that. Just a weird, aggressive, angry
looking lady. She drove a green car, it had
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Louisiana plates and a dent in the back right corner.
We think she must have mistaken him for someone else and wanted
to pull over. In a way, the fact that it's a
real person, indisputably materially real, makes it
creepier than something ethereal, which might be the
product of your mind playing tricks on you.
But that's just me at my aunt and uncles in rural Wisconsin.
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Late at night I can't sleep, go outside and have a smoke.
It's October so pretty chilly but no snow.
Super quiet. Newish moon so also very dark.
They live on a lot of land that is relatively unclear except for
the house and some outbuildings.It's all trees and trails with a
big boggy patch in the middle. Still not sleepy so I start
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wandering their plot. Take a trail into the trees,
come out to a little outcroppingwith the bog before me.
Still very quiet. Wasn't exactly spooked but I got
that sudden feel of eyes on me, look around but nothing but moon
shadows and reads something laughs at me.
Couldn't tell if it was in my head or actual sounds, but it
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was very loud, unfriendly laughter.
Just a joke at my expense. Brush animals burst into a
frenzy all around. Dozens of birds winged the fuck
out of there squawking and what sounded like a deer maybe
crashed the brush. Stood there like a frozen idiot.
All the nature around me dope the fuck out.
I soon followed suit. Didn't sleep a wink that night.
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Uncle gets up at the dawn and finds me nursing and coffee in
the kitchen. Tell him what happened earlier.
Try to laugh about it, but he seems unpleasantly surprised and
resigned. Stares at me for a moment, takes
a deep breath and tells me to follow him.
Uncle leads me to the cellar andwe go down the steps.
Haven't been down there in yearsand years.
There's a door on the far wall Idon't remember ever seen.
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Ask him where the fuck that goes.
After he opens it to stark blackness, he gives me a look as
he snags a Lantern from a shelf by the door and says old root
cellar. My grandma Doug follow me.
Walk into a small square room that has a rough tunnel in the
back corner. Looks kind of like a mine shaft
but rather short. Would trust his ever few feet.
You know what I mean. Tunnel isn't very long.
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We walk for maybe a full minute.Come to the end of the tunnel.
A rough door. It's just a slab of old wood
held in place by some cinder block along the bottom.
We move it out of the way and step through into the Gray dawn.
I look around, blinking the darkfrom my eyes and adjusting to
the light. Realize we're just a handful of
yards downwind from where I had stood last night overlooking the
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bog. Look at my uncle to see him
studying me expectantly. This is about where you were
last night. Yeah, all I can do is nod.
I hadn't told him where I heard the laughter.
He starts telling me about his family first settled on this
land from Norway. Strange sounds of things had
always plagued the boggy area. His grandfather had done most of
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the building and clearing of theland and had inexplicably died
shortly after digging out the root cellar.
He'd apparently been obsessed with this root cellar and I'd
never allowed anyone but himselfinside, not even to just grab a
jar of Pickles. After his grandpa died, my uncle
and his brother finally went down to investigate the root
settler, and that's when they found the tunnel.
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At this point he motions me to go to the back through the door
and we walk about halfway back through the tunnel.
Here, at a slight bend, he stopsand looking at me, moves.
The light close to the wall. There's a hole here I hadn't
noticed some way through the first time.
My uncle, visibly pale now and aslight shake to his hand, asked
me if I want to take a look. Something in his voice tells me
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I fucking shouldn't, but I can'tresist.
I peer over the rim of this hole, absolutely pitch black,
and the light seems to be swallowed by it in an off
putting way, like it's barely penetrating it.
Oh shit balls as I hear the samelaughter again but so much
louder. Nearly break my neck spinning
around to look at my uncle. His eyes are wide.
He heard it too, seems frozen inplace against my very instincts.
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I look again, eyes or something dimly reflecting the Lantern
light. Back at us.
Dozens of them. I stare in petrified fascination
as a wet, feted air seems to leak from the hole.
More growing laughter comes withthis stench.
Something finally breaks within us and we absolutely book it
back up the tunnel and into the cellar.
What the fuck was that? I yelled at him as we catch our
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breath by now firmly slammed root cellar door.
Uncle shakes his head. He has no idea.
Said he hadn't been in the cellar himself since the day he
and his brother had first investigated and discovered that
over the years he had tried to convince himself it had just
been a youthful fancy. When I told him earlier about
the laughter it brought that crumbling down, he laughed
shakily and says ignorance is bliss, but he felt he had to
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take him down there. I agree.
As I stare at the thick door of the root cellar, he tells me how
though autopsy had ruled his grandpa's death as natural
causes, his grandmother had a different story to tell.
According to her, his grandfather had been found belly
up in the bog with his eyes scooped out and no other visible
injuries. Apparently the rest of the
family at the time had reacted very poorly to this, but the
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grandmother had been the one to discover his corpse.
At this moment, I recalled my uncle's brother had committed S
word, but I didn't know anythingmore than that.
I hesitantly asked him about this.
He looked at me a long while. Yes, he said he was found dead
of a gunshot wound in the chest in no eyes.
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After this my uncle actually started to cry.
So we just got blind drunk that day after he called off work and
we have never spoken about that morning again.
I gathered from some further drunken ramblings before I
passed out that he's terrified he'll be found dead one day with
his eyes gouged out. He's still alive and they still
live there. I don't know what I'll do if
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he's found dead. Like that?
Well I guess since this is becoming more of a spooky
camping thread, I'll post mine since it's kind of long.
I'm not going to green text. I was in the Boy Scouts until
about 6th grade. In the summer before I quit, I
went to a summer camp in a muggyFlorida marsh Savannah area.
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If you've ever been to Florida in the summer you know it gets
ridiculously hot and humid and rainy.
So the summer camp was a complete disaster weather wise,
but me and a few friends didn't like it for a very different
reason. Now each camp had a colossal
pavilion in the center surrounded by assorted
palmettoes and tents. These tents were a frame style
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permanent tents atop rotting pallets which made the whole
camp look like an abandoned military base.
These A frames were made of disgusting 20 plus year old
tarps that insulated really well.
This was a fucking nightmare in South Florida because moisture
plus heat would stay in each tent and make each night a
living hell for its residents. Add mosquitoes the size of your
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ball sack in the entire camp outwas a disaster.
Our scout master was a giant do,so he made us earn a minimum of
10 merit badges that week, so that meant we had to attend 10
classes to earn them. These classes took place in
screen pavilions around the mainmess hall at the center of the
giant campground, with some of the bigger merit badges
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whittling archery next to the mess hall and the smaller, less
important ones, Bird watching electricity.
We're only accessed by a single dirt trail and a 10 minute walk.
I'm a pretty natural leader, so I LED one of those inner circle
kind of clubs with Am I true called the Blind Koalas or some
other stupid name so we could have a koala bear with glasses
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and a cane flying over our camp like the little jokesters we
were. I convinced my fellow koalas to
take 10 super easy mirror badgesso we could only get done early,
and we snuck our Game Boy advances into camp so we can
hang out in the woods and play our new Pokémon games.
Ruby and Sapphire had just come out.
My friends were all for it. So we did just that.
We snuck out really fucking far into the woods, outside the
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camp, off the regular path, and into the Savannah.
We made it out at about 3:00, but before we started to play
our game where no one could findus, we saw a really rundown
house. When I say house, I don't mean a
cabin or even a concrete block where the Rangers live.
I mean full on chimney and porchSuburban home just plopped in
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the middle of the fucking woods like a bad Photoshop with no
roads leading up to it. This place would have looked
perfect had it not looked like Father Time took a dump on it.
It was kind of blocked by the pine trees so we didn't see it
coming out. We went up to the window on its
porch and peeked inside. Boxes piled above eye level
filled the entire house. No furniture or anything, just
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boxes of what appeared to be magazines, newspapers, and other
printed material. The only other thing besides
these boxes was a broken wheelbarrow leaning against the
window on the opposite side. We're about to open the door to
go inside no matter how scared we were because we wanted to
check out those boxes. Then the most blood curdling
noise ever came from the house. The only way I could describe it
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is like someone twang in the piano wire from the inside of
the piano. So it came out twang, twang,
twang twang. It was so unnatural and
unnerving. We booked it the hell out of
there and ran to the mess hall. Apparently we've been gone for
two hours, but it felt like 5 minutes.
The sun hadn't even changed in the sky.
They kept saying it was 530 but the sun was barely where it
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would be at three. It didn't go down until eight
that night for some reason. It got so much worse though when
it got dark that night. It got really fucking dark at
8:00. The sun just barely disappeared
of the horizon. At 9 you wouldn't have
remembered what the sun looked like and we kept fire going and
trying to calm our nerves after the house we found yelling at
us. Eventually we had enough slim
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Jims and ghost stories and went to our grotty ass A frames.
I was kind of fat back then, so I was eaten alive by mosquitoes
every night and I placed a mosquito net over my car to save
me from the wretched onslaught. It did minimum amounts of
protecting and acted as more of a shitty curtain.
I tried going to sleep, but it was just so fucking hot in the
A-frame I had to remove everything but my boxer briefs
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to stay cool. About two in the morning I think
I heard a loud thong from the next tent over.
I jolt right up and tangle myself in my net and scramble on
the rotting pallet to free myself.
I ran through and fall into the cut conveniently placed Ant pile
underneath the pallet. I managed to save myself before
I could eat and but I was so groggy and some which adrenaline
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through my bloodstream I barely knew what was going on before I
heard another loud thong a foot away.
The A-frame collapsed on top of me in my bunkmate and we crawled
out from underneath. I looked next door to the other
A frames and watched them fall like dominoes, each with a
sickening thunk as the pillars holding them up fell down.
I could barely make out a tall figure in red and white dart
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from behind one of the tents to another, but I couldn't tell.
It was too early in the morning to make it positive ID it was
chaos. My whole troop had collapsed A
frames and the entire pillar to erect the fucking thing was
broken. The piece to slide into the
pallet had snapped clean off andnow these A frames are old but
it's still pretty difficult to break a 4 by 4 inch block of
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wood in two with one swipe. I ran out in my boxer briefs to
make sure everyone was OK and wetold our douche scout master
someone had knocked down every A-frame in the camp.
He marched down to the camp Ranger and told him and he said
he'll go out and help us find the guy who did it.
About an hour and a half later the camp director drives up in a
Jeep with some sort of fat kid in a black ninja outfit in the
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back. He tells us the kid confessed to
knocking them over and it's a mystery solved.
Everyone came forth and called bullshit, mostly because the
agreed upon profile for a suspect was a tall, probably 6-5
or so lean guy in red and white.The Ranger waved it off as some
kind of joke and said he had a confession and he was going to
get everything sorted out by morning.
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We tried finding the house againthe next day and couldn't find
it. I was about to just shrug and
say fuck it when my friend who was in the first A-frame to get
knocked over came up to me at dinner on that last night.
He was kind of nervous to talk to me and hasn't really been
himself, and he told me he smelled something really fucking
shitty before he woke up that morning.
He looked up and saw the figure staring at him and he thought it
(27:57):
was the weirdest fucking thing. It was a person, it wasn't a
spooky skeleton or anything, butthe guy was really fucking tall
with lanky ass arms and smelled like straight up death and shit.
So much he said he could see thestink lines coming off of them.
He said the guy was obviously quite old and Gray, but the
weirdest thing was that he was wrapped in bandages and a
(28:17):
headdress like a fucking mummy. A mummy in South Florida.
I laughed it off and just told them it was some kind of asshole
fucking with us. He just sighed and continued to
eat his gloop. The weirdest shit didn't start
until we came home from camp. There were 10 people who had
their tents knocked over, excluding me and my bunkmate,
and out of those 10/8 of them had burglars clean out their
(28:39):
place out while camp. Only me and the kid who thought
he saw mummy were spared. His house burned down a month
later. The fire department saying
someone had thrown incendiary devices into the windows at
night while they were sleeping, even though there were no broken
glass or open windows. I guess the patterns here had to
do with houses. Nothing has really happened to
my house. I moved a couple months after
(29:01):
dropping scouts and the last I heard my old house was still
there. I honestly have no idea what the
fuck any of it means, but it's creepy as shit to think about.
No one I know from that troop isstill in it.
They dropped it around the same time as I did.
I heard we all dropped a ton of weight too.
None of us were fat anymore and I've been told I look too skinny
now. Did we drop scouts for the same
(29:22):
reason? Maybe?
I have no idea what to expect from it or this story, and I
know it's shitty as fuck to end a story like that, but the only
other creepy thing is that I find ants in my stuff all the
time and it's annoying as hell. I like to think it has something
to do with this, but in reality it's probably another shitty
thing to deal with in my life. I get bit a lot still, though,
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and I have to cover myself with band aids so I don't itch them
all the time. These are my stories, but ones
that my little brother told me. He's a geosciences grad student
at the moment. He's been doing field work in
Wyoming for about four years now, usually in the summer.
He's seen most of the wildlife there is to see up there shy of
(30:06):
Cougars who apparently avoid their camps.
He's also seen some weird shit that he couldn't explain.
I'm fuzzy on technical details since we're that close and I've
never paid much attention to hisstudies, so most of the field
work stuff he told me is where things get a bit confused.
I'll try not to go into any of that jargony stuff he told me
since I'm sure I get it wrong beyond the basics.
(30:27):
Anyway, the stories. Story one day 0 roughly 2 weeks.
Undergrad externship program in Wyoming.
Spans over spring break plus a week.
Dave shows up with two classmates from his program,
Kelly and Junior meets the otherexterns.
Total of 20 people in this classsession going to be doing survey
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work and checking up on the geothermal activity or some
such, taking core samples, mapping terrain and formations,
Doppler readings, all that jazz.Students camping in tents but
there's a trailer to store equipment, a few outbuildings
for cooking and showers, and a fence around the compound.
Also to lanterns and semi permanent shelter with concrete
(31:09):
flooring tables. Rustic but safe enough.
Dave and Junior sharing a reallyswanky big tent that got ditched
at previous internship by an international student.
Called an event, apparently since they can't transport them
home easily, Kelly plants her single near theirs in the rough
circle of tents. Orientation time class divided
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up in five groups of four and assigned territory and task.
Dave, Junior, and Kelly all in different groups.
First night is pretty quiet but cold as balls and there's a
light dusting of fresh snow the next morning.
Day one through 3. Everybody's up before first
light to get ready for field work.
Group split up and head off. Each group has a supervisor and
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are taken to their specific survey area and a truck by said
supervisor. First few days of work goes as
planned. No surprises.
A bit more snowfall during the first half of the week, but no
problem. Day 4.
On the 4th morning while they'reeating breakfast, Kelly asked if
the boys came and tapped on her tent the night before.
Dave and Junior say no, they were wiped and went straight to
(32:12):
sleep. Kelly says she woke up with
someone tapping at her tent justby her head and whispering her
name. By the time she got up and
unzipped the flap, they were gone.
They decide it must have been one of the group members trying
to ask her about the previous day's data or the next day's
work. Who knows.
She decides to pursue it later when they go out to work.
Day continues again as normal. Night time again.
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Dave and Junior shooting the ship before they're going to
sleep. Hear someone tapping their tent
at their feet before they go to sleep.
Is anybody there? Hello from outside the tent,
sounds like Kelly. They turn on the lamp, open up
the flap, but nobody's there. Figure she went back to the
tent. Light is on inside.
Dave goes and asks her what she wanted.
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No response. No one is inside.
Fresh snow again, footprints leading the wave from a tent
towards the land trines. Dave assumed she just wanted
someone to walk over there with her since it's dark as fuck
other than the motion lamps. He shrugs, heads back to his
tent, and goes to sleep. Day 5 through 12.
Next day, Kelly doesn't join them for breakfast and eats with
(33:19):
her survey team instead. Don't get to ask her what she
wanted. Dave feels weird all day and
notices that his work team is really jumpy.
One of Dave's workmates insists he saw a bear while they were in
the field, and they decide that's why everyone is on edge.
Some kind of primordial instinctcan sense the predator lurking
or some shit. Night rolls around again, and
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Dave and Junior are about to sleep when the tapping comes
again. It's really dark.
I can't see you come out. Kelly's voice again.
Junior tells her. Just a second.
I'll turn on the lamp. They open the tent.
No, Kelly, Her tent isn't lit up, footprints aren't clear
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because there's been no fresh snow all day.
Fuck it. They go and tap on Kelly's tent.
Light turns on and she chews them out for waking her up
again. Again, Dave apologize and drags
Junior back to their tent. Dave tells Junior about the
bear. One guy saw it at this mountain.
Junior makes jokes about skinwalkers on the mountain and
they both go to sleep feeling a bit on edge.
(34:22):
Day 6, next morning, everyone incamp seems a bit out of it.
People talking about the stupid pranks everyone else is pulling
and no one is getting enough sleep.
Bearsider mentions Dave tapping on his tent, Dave mentions
Kelly. Two other guys both mentioned
someone else entirely. Almost everyone reports some
kind of mysterious nighttime visitor that it wasn't there.
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They're starting to get a littlebit paranoid and the supervisors
tell them to knock it off with the pranks.
There's work to be done. The pranks continued for the
rest of the trip, but no one washurt, turned up acting weird, or
went missing. People were just jittery and
ready to get the fuck out of camp by the end of it all.
Story #2 Summer internship time.Sweet free day.
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So Dave and MO international student on his first time go
hiking, pack lunch, Dave's gun and bear Mace, head out into the
woods. Beautiful scenery, fantastic
views. They go do their thing and Dave
is snapping photos to send his girlfriend back home.
Suddenly, Dave notices MO isn't beside him anymore.
They're at the top of a Ridge, looking into a particularly
(35:28):
picturesque valley. Lots of dense trees, not a lot
of visibility. Dave doesn't panic.
Figures MO had to shit and stepped out of you.
Starts calling MO's name. No answer, just echoes.
Oh Dave doesn't leave the Ridge,but starts looking around for
any sign of this guy. Nothing insight.
So he keeps calling this guy's names.
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Eventually he hears 3 blasts from a safety whistle.
Oh Dave starts to backtrack the way they came, figuring that MO
turned around before him and gotlast slash went off the trail.
Another three blasts, this time louder.
Dave keeps following the sound, but there's no MO.
By now Dave thinks something fucked up is going on and gets
(36:10):
out the bear mates just in case.Apparently he contemplated his
handgun but didn't go for it. He stops and waits to see if he
hears any more whistles. Sure enough, 3 blasts
practically on top of him. Dave almost jumped out of his
skin. MO comes running down the hill
out of nowhere and almost slams into him.
Dave is pissed, almost bear maces MO in the face, demands to
(36:32):
know where he went. MO is equally pissed and demands
to know why Jave left him standing on the Ridge all alone.
They confer and it comes to light that neither of them blew
their safety whistle, though they both heard it.
Both thought the other had wandered off the Ridge and was
calling for help. No more whistle blowing follows.
No one else from camp was going hiking.
Camp is isolated from normal camping areas or parks.
(36:54):
Dave and MO Nope the fuck. Back to camp as fast as they can
go, even though they plan to be out several more hours.
Same summer internship story as above.
Hiking with a different intern, Joey.
Everything's going good. They're looking for a place to
chill out and have some lunch. Find a little Creek babbling
away, only a few feet across andsuper shallow.
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Being geology geeks, they start discussing whether this should
be on the survey or not. Outside target zone but still
possibly relevant because of water source etcetera.
After lunch they pack up and start to head back the way they
came towards camp. Except it's not the way back
towards camp. It's almost like they found a
loop or some shit. Keep ending up back at the same
(37:34):
Creek bed. After about an hour of this they
decide to just follow the Creek bed for a while to see if maybe
they just turned down the wrong paths.
Stop when they find a weird little caren on an island in the
middle of this narrow Creek. Geology geeks and rock hounds.
So they notice the rocks don't match the area quite right.
Pile of big chunks of limestone with a huge green quartz of the
(37:55):
base. Deer skull at the top of the
pile with the antlers crossed under it.
Bleach from exposure looks brittle and old.
Dave says they should go back the way they came because fuck
that ritualistic looking horror movie shit.
Joey agrees, but is weirded out mostly by the stones rather than
the skull. No proper limestone deposits in
the area apparently, and that kind of courts is only in a
(38:17):
specific part of the state. I wouldn't know.
Just repeating what Dave said here.
They go back the way they came and finally get back on their
trail properly. Dave tells me he thinks whatever
built that pile of rocks and wanted them to see it before
they left, like it was warning them to stay out of his
territory or something. Dave and Joey went hiking
another day with MO, but couldn't find the Creek or the
(38:39):
Cairn a second time. Dave was relieved because he
just didn't want to go back, butafter the first hiking trip most
said he was curious. Story 3.
Through stupid circumstances, Dave gets separated from his
work crew in the field, middle of fucking nowhere on the
mountain, realizes he's lost. Fuck shit.
Damn it, he's a map in GPS and all the safety gear you should
(39:02):
have, but nothing is working quite right.
EG compass is stuck and won't rotate to face magnetic north,
GPS claims to have no signal, phone likewise has no signal and
went from 80% charge to 5% in about 5 minutes.
Fuck this shit, fuck it to hell.Against better judgement, he
decides to try and find his way back.
Dave tries to backtrack but can't seem to go in a straight
(39:24):
line. He finally sits down and
considers blasting his whistle to see if he can get attention
from his group. Right as he's about to blow that
whistle a fuck off huge Raven drops down from a tree onto a
rock formation a little ways from him.
Raven puffs up real big and flies a few trees off with that
croaky kind noise they make. Dave's impersonation of the
(39:45):
sound cannot be described the text, but it's hilarious, stops
and puffs up again, watching him.
Dave says he doesn't know why, but he decides to follow the
Raven. They don't generally come
anywhere near people this far out, just garbage if they can
get it. So this bird was acting funny.
Raven keeps up the leading game,flying a few hours ahead of the
(40:05):
time while Dave follows. After about 30 minutes, Dave
starts to recognize the terrain.After 45 minutes he's almost
back to the survey site and the Raven is gone.
Didn't fly away, just disappeared when he looked away
for it for a minute to get his bearings.
Most of the other stories he told me weren't supernatural at
all, just a bit eerie. He and his work crew ran into a
(40:27):
bare face to face during summer once at a distance of maybe 10
yards. It just looked at them for a few
minutes and went back to rootingaround and doing his thing.
They also had a pack of wools show up and check out their
perimeter fence another time. Nothing malicious, just curious
and probably had smelled food orthe like.
They didn't come back. He had a couple of other spooky
(40:47):
stories that were pretty bland things like his team
encountering a guy in the woods while there were no habitations
and he wasn't carrying gear likea camper or hiker either.
He looked a bit like a farmer who just strolled out of his
field into a dense tree line. There was also a guy who got
attacked in a lake while everyone was fishing.
They decided to take a break so he went for a swim.
(41:07):
Had a huge row of bite marks in his leg, but they couldn't say
what it was that did it. Eventually put it down to some
kind of introduced garfish and called it good.
Nobody went swimming for the rest of that trip though.
Mind if I ask where in Wyoming? I currently live there and would
love some spoopy adventures. I'll shoot him an e-mail to ask
since he didn't really say at the time.
(41:29):
I went through his Instagram just to see where he took the
photos during the periods the stories are from.
And most of his vacation photos from before and after each
period of internship are in Idaho or the northwest portion
of the state, so I'd assume his survey trips were probably
relatively close to that area aswell.
He got back to me and was a bit vague about Wyoming.
(41:49):
He mentioned Cody, but otherwisewas all over the state.
He'd also done more trips than Ithought.
He's up to 9 and maybe going again this year.
He said he's also done trips to Montana and Idaho for survey
stuff and mentioned Elkhorn, BigHole River, Idaho, and the
Tobacco Route Range Montana. He also sent me a photo of all
the tents left behind by students on these trips set up
(42:11):
in his yard. He now has a total of 9 plus the
one he bought originally for himself years ago.
There's been months without any relevant happening.
So while we wait, anyone has anynight shift stories to tell?
It's a small field but not many people know how haunted most
libraries are. Be me.
(42:33):
Worked my way up to library manager, managed 3 libraries
thus far. Board of Supervisors, district
manager, etcetera always tell you what's up with your branch
shortly after taking the job. Current branch is pretty fucked.
Female employees, 90% of the workforce in the field and my
library suffered offers the most.
Angry noises affect. One employee accuses her
(42:55):
teammates of pranks, stomping around, doors slamming, men
shouting, etcetera, all in the backroom.
Another female employee has beenlocked inside the bathroom with
the lights thrown off, sink turned on when she was in there.
Heard her cry for help at a staff bathroom on other side of
manager's door. Office door was locked in.
Required my master key, the onlykey that can lock the door from
(43:16):
outside. Obviously I was not responsible
and would never do this. Public restrooms are a no go for
any female employees. They are open and closed by me
and me alone. Stalls will slam in sequence.
Lights will go on and off. Diaper stations spontaneous fall
open. Most libraries keep a second
incident report log. This is usually very private and
(43:37):
quiet. We know these as unexplained
phenomena logs. We are usually county and local
governments so staff safety still needs to be insured.
I've had to close the branch oneday.
County maintenance guy and myself fabricated that the power
was lost to the facility. Not true.
We flipped the Breakers as prooffor when my opener arrived.
Truth is it was a mess inside the building.
(43:58):
Books were literally everywhere,as if someone had a grudge, had
broken in workstations and service counter, a mess of
unloaded staplers, pencils broken into dozens of pieces,
and our copier bulb was burnt out after running all night.
Pages photocopied were of the ceiling above the copier.
More more. OP just likes to fuck with
(44:19):
employees and won't admit it. Absolutely more.
It is then this last winter 2020Board of Supervisors decide that
operational hours needed to be extended to make up for the
doors being closed during the Great Kufenen.
Geniuses decide that the branch will be open from 10:00 AM to
9:00 PM. Yes, that way we can serve the
(44:39):
exactly 0 people wanting books at night in the snow and cold.
No female employees closes during the winter nights
anymore. Our hours have changed to 6:00
PM extended hours. This is that reason why week 5
of stupid late 9 hours. I'm closing with let's call her
Janet. Janet is a really cool employee,
never says no, a great self starter and it's fun to work
(45:01):
with. She's had her own encounters.
She's the employee who faces thephantom harassments.
Approximately around 750 PMA snowstorm hits the area.
Ioffer her a ride home as to notendanger her elderly mother as
Janet does not drive. Shortly after hearing the winds
and snowfall, a cacophony of noise rushed from the lobby,
slamming, banging, glass shattering and a deep booming.
(45:24):
Janet and I Cesar shouting and Iget up to investigate the cause.
At the glass doors of the lobby,nothing is of note.
The front doors are closed. Light is on.
I enter the lobby. I've taken about four steps from
the glass doors. The closed front doors.
As the glass doors land behind me, I turn, expecting to see
Janet. She's not there.
(45:45):
Turning back towards the front doors, the right wall with our
public bulletin board begins dropping Flyers 1 by 1.
The attacks remain in place. I stare dumbfounded as the
bulletin board sheds itself nudein this lobby.
There are two doors to the left that are the entrance to our
public meeting room. The meeting room door slammed on
their locks rhythmically # pause# pause # pause.
(46:09):
I jolted at this, but stared in shock as the blackness in the
room is all that could be seen through the door windows.
The light in the lobby started to flicker out of sync with the
pounding, and at this point, I'mfinished with this.
I've heard things and I've seen things, but this is my first
truly wholly unexplained experience in this branch.
I make a deliberate walk to the doors leading into the library
(46:30):
and walk back inside. Janet is not at the customer
service desk. I was unnerved by the experience
from the lobby, but something about the familiarity of the
library interior made her not atthe desk OK.
She was more than likely just shelving.
Sure enough, I hear the squeaking of a book truck after
a single use. They all begin this week.
(46:51):
I step into my office to check my emails once more and finish a
flyer for a children's program we are planning for the
holidays. As I type, I hear squeaking of
the truck, then a pause. I'm thinking that indeed Janet
is shelving in the stack somewhere.
After about 10 minutes of my working and the sound stopping
and beginning of the book truck,I decided to go back to the main
(47:12):
library and see if Janet needs assistance in finishing.
The book truck is right in frontof my Openoffice door,
completely void of any library materials, placed directly in
front of the open space so that I must move it to venture
forward. I moved the cart and briskly
make a tour through the library.I went through every shelf Bay
and checked our teen room. I hadn't heard Janet walk by
(47:35):
with a book truck, nor had I hurt her out of the floor.
In a panic, I head for the staffbreak room.
A sinking feeling washed over methat potentially the noises in
the library were a distraction from some sort of bad guys
who've entered the library through other means.
The staff break room lights are off.
I turn them on. The small room is empty.
(47:56):
I check the back door staff entrance, it's locked.
I think of the staff bathroom. I try the handle and it's
locked. I knocked, nothing.
I knock harder, saying Janet's name.
Nothing. I take the master key and unlock
the door. Janet is on the floor of the
bathroom, crying her eyes out, mascara all over her face.
(48:19):
She looks up wide eyed and grabsme around the waist, absolutely
delirious, saying my name and how she was trapped.
I bent down to comfort her, asking what the fuck happened.
I help her up and we sit at the lunch table.
She's shaking as I bring her a box of tissues.
When I had gone out to source the noise, she had waited more
than 15 minutes for me to return.
I stated that this wasn't possible, but she cut me off.
(48:42):
She had gone up to use the bathroom.
She did her business, washed herhands, but the towel dispenser
didn't work. She tried a few more times but
decided to exit the bathroom anduse the towels in the
kitchenette. The door wouldn't budget.
She tried over and over, but thedoor was locked.
She began pounding the door and yelling my name.
Frantic now, she became more andmore terrified of her situation.
(49:04):
That was when the lights went out on her.
She felt around quickly for the switch, but no matter how many
times it went up and down, the lights would not come back on.
The sound of footsteps echoed onthe tile floors.
She said it sounded like three people were in there with her.
This is when she began to cry. She was just waiting.
Just waiting for the moment something or someone would shove
(49:25):
her, push her, or run into her. She curled up in the corner,
trying to make herself as small as possible.
She covered her head, but after just a moment, the footsteps
stopped. The sink came to life, gushing
water, then it turned off, gushing water, then off again.
On the third time it began to just drip, each drop becoming
louder than the last, until, as she stated, the sound began to
(49:47):
hurt her ears. It was then I arrived.
When the lock turned over from my key, the lights came back on.
I profusely apologize to Janet, however I've been on the
opposite side of the wall and heard nothing.
I swore if I would have heard her I would have been there in
seconds. Janet's wasn't OK.
Of all the instances of these experiences, this had been the
worst. She refused to be left alone and
(50:10):
the two of us traveled around the building and stayed close.
I believed her story, but the time issue was nagging at me
currently. The time was now 820.
I checked my PC clock at my workstation when I returned from
the lobby and floor, but my timeadded up.
Something about this wasn't was odd and terrifying.
With only 40 minutes left of being open, we remained at the
(50:31):
service counter watching videos to calm Janet down.
Though frying myself at what shetold me I needed to remain calm
and in control for her sake. What happened next still gives
me the chills. The ceiling of the library is an
enormous labyrinth of beams and crossbars, like a cathedral
vaulted ceiling. The beams began to creak and
moan as if a great weight have been placed upon them.
(50:54):
Oh shit, must be the snow. I stated as I finished the last
syllable of snow. I was struck on top of the head.
ADVD case had fallen from the beams.
I looked up, nothing there. Janet begins shuddering and
sobbing. The creaking and moaning becomes
louder and slower. I rose from my seat and beckoned
her towards me. The DVD and Blu-ray stacks
(51:17):
started to shed materials from them in ones twos and threes.
DVD and Blu rays fall from the shelves.
We're done. We're leaving quickly.
We headed for the backroom and grabbed their coats.
Make it to my vehicle. I started the engine and drove
to the entrance. I locked the doors and we left
the night. I recorded the incident and
informed the County Library manager of what it had
(51:38):
transpired. The building was a mess in the
morning. In addition to the visual media,
the children's pictures, books, non fiction and half the adult
fiction were completely removed from their shelving.
I contacted Janet, asked her howshe was doing.
She was thinking of quitting. She had never felt so helpless,
powerless and worst of all, afraid.
(51:59):
To be honest, I begged her to stay.
She's a fantastic employee and she still works for me.
However, female employees do notclose or stay after dark.
We do not have a lock on the bathrooms.
Now a sign that says occupied and vacant is on the outside of
the door. It needs to be flipped.
Obviously, employees must additionally knock.
Closing shifts are for a male employees only.
(52:22):
For some reason, our unexpected phenomena are limited to
slamming doors and flickering lights.
I have more stories if anons areinterested from this library and
others. This is where the public
restrooms are located. The light flickering upon taking
this photo this morning. As previously stated, female
(52:42):
employees do not pass this pointin either lock or unlock these
bathrooms. But enjoy more stories lad.
Very interesting stuff. Attached are the beams and
rafters. And so why do you think this is
happening? What causes libraries to be
spook hotbeds? Why isn't this a well known
investigative phenomenon? I couldn't say.
(53:02):
My guess would be potentially gathering so much information,
so many stories in one place becomes sort of a magnet or
beacon for the unexplained. Like I said, maybe not well
known to the public, but certainly well known in the
field. For instance, no one doubted
Janet or my report that went into the logbook.
District Manager and Board of Supervisors were very
(53:22):
apologetic, as was I. I'll pose again tonight if
threat is still alive and there's interest.
Very much interested in more Bump.
This is top notch material. It's possible that ghosts are
drawn to libraries because they're relatively quiet and
being a ghost doesn't seem like a very fun experience.
Plus, they're often located in places that are S word hotspots,
(53:43):
high schools, universities, etcetera.
So the ghost might wander back to the place they last felt
comfortable. Epic.
The returning to where they werelast comfortable thing makes
sense, especially for mentally ill S word loner types.
Let's think for fun. Libraries are public places.
It's not many places that are open to anyone and are on the
same time or indoors. The fact that so many different
(54:06):
people with different goals and ambitions to use libraries could
really be a detrimental factor. Perhaps it's because of all the
different types of mental phrases people go through in
there that creates A focal pointof energy.
Libraries contain lots of info. Maybe the sheer amount of
knowledge contained in physical form attracts paranormal energy.
Libraries contain lots of art. Every book is an art piece by
(54:28):
its writer. It probably carries a lot of
sentimental value with it, and that attracts energy.
Or perhaps ghosts, having no other way of having fun, gather
in libraries and past time by reading the books.
As living readers turn the pages, they also get funky and
start playing pranks on the employees at night hours when
their boredom can no longer be cured.
And all right guys, that wraps up some terrifying true 4 Chan
(54:51):
stories. And these one were, you know, a
little bit paranormal and you guys might not like that.
You guys have gotten mad at me before saying that I want fully
true. Well, these are true stories
from people I would be. I kind of believe in what's it
called, paranormal stuff, kind of like skinwalkers, you know, I
think creepy stuff happens, unexplainable stuff happens.
(55:13):
And you know, in all honesty, a lot of the true stories are so
utterly boring. So I go for a little bit of the
out there once. So debate in the comments if you
think it's real or if it's true or not.
I think it's true. I think these are true stories
by people, especially when they have proof like the last one
here with the pictures and stuff.
Super creepy. I got goosebumps reading that
(55:34):
story and hopefully, you know, you got some goosebumps too and
you thought it was entertaining.I appreciate watching the end of
the video. You guys the best thank you so
much for sticking around please like the video and subscribe to
the channel It hels more than you'll ever know and that wraps
U today's video and this was nook and I'll see you next time
bye.