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PrettySquareGal said:
Yep, him and that ball peen hammer.
Come one Jack, we know you are a big GhostHunters fan.
Regards,
J
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Ghosts, anyone?
- Thread starter PrettySquareGal
- Start date
Yep, him and that ball peen hammer.
Come one Jack, we know you are a big GhostHunters fan.
Regards,
J
Jack Scorpion
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jamespowers said:Yep, him and that ball peen hammer.
Come one Jack, we know you are a big GhostHunters fan.
Regards,
J
Well, I'm a huge Ghostbusters fan.
But I never call them.
LizzieMaine
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When I was about seven years old, my cousin Ellen, who was two years older than me, got very interested in ghosts and spooks and Ouija boards and seances and such -- and talked a bunch of us neighborhood kids into participating in a seance with her. Everything she knew about such things she learned from watching "Dark Shadows" on TV, and the rest of us had no idea what it was all about, so we let her lead the thing.
First thing we needed was a dark, foreboding place to hold it. Greg, the boy next door to me, had a big barn next to his house with an empty, windowless attic -- nothing in it but dust, spiders, and the occasional bat. Perfect. We approached Greg, a cocky, brush-cut boy of twelve, and he was only TOO happy to agree with what we proposed.
We waited until a dark, moonless night, and then, at the appointed hour, we crept thru the darkness of Norris Street, up the stairs, and into the gloom. Besides Ellen and me, I managed to convince my best friend Sherrie to come along too, although she insisted she wasn't going to stick around if some CREATURE showed up.
So we set a candle into a crack in the wide, splintery floorboards, formed a square around it, and all joined hands.
"Now what?" Sherrie asked.
"We need to figure out who to call back from the dead," replied Ellen, as though she'd done this a million times before. "But be careful -- make sure it's someone who, you know, likes kids. No calling back Hitler or anything."
We all nodded. Hitler was out.
Trouble was, none of us actually knew anyone who had died who liked kids. There was Mr. Cole down the street, who choked to death on a piece of lobster shell last summer, but everybody knew he hated kids and kept balls that rolled into his yard. So we weren't about to raise his spectre just for thrills.
Finally Greg spoke up. He was the biggest baseball fan in the neighborhood, and he knew, from ample reading on the subject, exactly who to summon. "Let's call back -- BABE RUTH!"
Sherrie and I nodded. We were both fans enough to know who the Babe was, even though he'd been dead for over twenty years. Ellen had never heard of him, however. "Aw, go wan," Greg declared. "He LOVED kids. I read a book where he'd got to hospitals and all that crap. He'll be WICKED HAPPY to hear from us."
"OK," agreed Ellen, persuaded by the argument in favor of the Bambino. "Everybody close your eyes."
We closed our eyes.
Somewhere in the gnarled old trees out back, an owl hooted. The wind slapped a branch against the roof.
"BAAAAAABE RUUUUUUUUTH!" moaned Ellen, in the grips of some unfathomable mystic power. "BAAAAAAABE RUUUUUUUTH! WE THE LIVING SUMMON THE DEAD! BAAAAAAABE RUUUUUUUUTH"
The hairs on the back of my neck tingled. I felt a sudden, inexplicable chill and clutched the thin Orlon of my cheap sweater tight around my shoulders.
"YEAH?????" boomed a sudden, rumbling voice. "WHADDAYOU KIDS WANT???"
Three little girls squealed in terror. Even Greg's tough-guy demeanor showed signs of crumbling under the intensity of the moment. "Uhhhhh, Mr. Ruth, Sir," he stammered thru chattering teeth, "we just wanted to say, um, hi --- and, um -- uhhh -- is there anything we can, you know, do for you?"
"YEAH!" boomed the dreadful Voice. "Bring me a NICE COLD BEER! There's one in the house! In the FRIDGE!"
Three sets of eyes snapped open.
Three little girls stared at Greg, his face bisected by a repellent, gap-toothed grin.
The door to the attic burst open.
Greg's father lurched in, his face pasty white with talcum powder, a New York Yankees cap askew on his stubbly round head. "WELLL??? WHERE"S MY BEER??"
Three little girls sank back, terrified and dumbstruck. Greg rocked back on his haunches, cackling with horrible penetrating laughter.
Three little girls realized they'd been had.
And three little girls moved in for the kill.
True story. I swear it.
First thing we needed was a dark, foreboding place to hold it. Greg, the boy next door to me, had a big barn next to his house with an empty, windowless attic -- nothing in it but dust, spiders, and the occasional bat. Perfect. We approached Greg, a cocky, brush-cut boy of twelve, and he was only TOO happy to agree with what we proposed.
We waited until a dark, moonless night, and then, at the appointed hour, we crept thru the darkness of Norris Street, up the stairs, and into the gloom. Besides Ellen and me, I managed to convince my best friend Sherrie to come along too, although she insisted she wasn't going to stick around if some CREATURE showed up.
So we set a candle into a crack in the wide, splintery floorboards, formed a square around it, and all joined hands.
"Now what?" Sherrie asked.
"We need to figure out who to call back from the dead," replied Ellen, as though she'd done this a million times before. "But be careful -- make sure it's someone who, you know, likes kids. No calling back Hitler or anything."
We all nodded. Hitler was out.
Trouble was, none of us actually knew anyone who had died who liked kids. There was Mr. Cole down the street, who choked to death on a piece of lobster shell last summer, but everybody knew he hated kids and kept balls that rolled into his yard. So we weren't about to raise his spectre just for thrills.
Finally Greg spoke up. He was the biggest baseball fan in the neighborhood, and he knew, from ample reading on the subject, exactly who to summon. "Let's call back -- BABE RUTH!"
Sherrie and I nodded. We were both fans enough to know who the Babe was, even though he'd been dead for over twenty years. Ellen had never heard of him, however. "Aw, go wan," Greg declared. "He LOVED kids. I read a book where he'd got to hospitals and all that crap. He'll be WICKED HAPPY to hear from us."
"OK," agreed Ellen, persuaded by the argument in favor of the Bambino. "Everybody close your eyes."
We closed our eyes.
Somewhere in the gnarled old trees out back, an owl hooted. The wind slapped a branch against the roof.
"BAAAAAABE RUUUUUUUUTH!" moaned Ellen, in the grips of some unfathomable mystic power. "BAAAAAAABE RUUUUUUUTH! WE THE LIVING SUMMON THE DEAD! BAAAAAAABE RUUUUUUUUTH"
The hairs on the back of my neck tingled. I felt a sudden, inexplicable chill and clutched the thin Orlon of my cheap sweater tight around my shoulders.
"YEAH?????" boomed a sudden, rumbling voice. "WHADDAYOU KIDS WANT???"
Three little girls squealed in terror. Even Greg's tough-guy demeanor showed signs of crumbling under the intensity of the moment. "Uhhhhh, Mr. Ruth, Sir," he stammered thru chattering teeth, "we just wanted to say, um, hi --- and, um -- uhhh -- is there anything we can, you know, do for you?"
"YEAH!" boomed the dreadful Voice. "Bring me a NICE COLD BEER! There's one in the house! In the FRIDGE!"
Three sets of eyes snapped open.
Three little girls stared at Greg, his face bisected by a repellent, gap-toothed grin.
The door to the attic burst open.
Greg's father lurched in, his face pasty white with talcum powder, a New York Yankees cap askew on his stubbly round head. "WELLL??? WHERE"S MY BEER??"
Three little girls sank back, terrified and dumbstruck. Greg rocked back on his haunches, cackling with horrible penetrating laughter.
Three little girls realized they'd been had.
And three little girls moved in for the kill.
True story. I swear it.
Hoh boy! I am now seriously spooked after all these tales and am really glad it's still daylight eek: ! I saw a ghost once, in a friend's house who said she had a ghost in the bathroom. Which made me really not want to get caught in there with my trousers down! So I went to bed and woke up sometime later with a ball of light up in the top bedroom corner opposite my bed. Now of course I checked for cracks in the curtains (Nope. Bizarrely they still had blackout blinds up, no kidding), light through the keyhole (Nope. All lights out), and anything else I could think of. So I watched the light from under my indestructable duvet - it was soft and fluffy rather than stark, and about the size of a football - and over about 5 minutes it slowly dropped down the wall until it was "sitting" in the old armchair in that corner. I got the distinct impression it was watching me, and after a moment's consideration I dived right under the duvet and didn't come out till morning... So much for opening the communication pathways! Husband has had an out of body and I absolutely believe him. It's happened twice and he hates it. I think I'd like to try it but can't make it happen.
Maj.Nick Danger
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Caledonia said:Hoh boy! I am now seriously spooked after all these tales and am really glad it's still daylight eek: ! I saw a ghost once, in a friend's house who said she had a ghost in the bathroom. Which made me really not want to get caught in there with my trousers down! So I went to bed and woke up sometime later with a ball of light up in the top bedroom corner opposite my bed. Now of course I checked for cracks in the curtains (Nope. Bizarrely they still had blackout blinds up, no kidding), light through the keyhole (Nope. All lights out), and anything else I could think of. So I watched the light from under my indestructable duvet - it was soft and fluffy rather than stark, and about the size of a football - and over about 5 minutes it slowly dropped down the wall until it was "sitting" in the old armchair in that corner. I got the distinct impression it was watching me, and after a moment's consideration I dived right under the duvet and didn't come out till morning... So much for opening the communication pathways! Husband has had an out of body and I absolutely believe him. It's happened twice and he hates it. I think I'd like to try it but can't make it happen.
I had one without really trying.
Was strange to say the least,.....but I was really not all freaked out by it. [huh] (Posted it earlier in this thread.)
ArrowCollarMan
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I've always wondered why (if there are indeed such things as ghosts) a spector would wear clothes or appear visibly at all? Also, what are they trying to accomplish by turing door knobs and kocking over waste baskets or for that matter following people, sometimes comming out only at night and why do they only seem to reside in buildings?? There is so called fotage of "ghosts" like a half a second of an orb flying by. I think thats bull. Alot of it seems like bull. I have encoutered rooms that have given me an uncomfortable or scared feeling. I remember on one occasion on a church youth group retreat I and another guy were setting down to sleep and I said, "Doesn't this room give you the creeps? Like a serial killer with juts fly thorugh that window and stab us in our beds?" He apparently thought the room creepy too, so we moved to another room. [huh] I've always wondered that if you put a group of people in a notoriously hauted house and didn't say anything what-so-ever about it being haunted if they would see or feel anything? If you're looking for something you're bound to see it like a ship on the horizon or satan in a puff of smoke from the world trade centers, hell, you can ever see an elephant in the clouds!
Benny Holiday
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PrettySquareGal said:
Does that mean we technically have to change it to a 'Zombies, anyone?' thread?
Benny Holiday said:Does that mean we technically have to change it to a 'Zombies, anyone?' thread?
Alrighty, then. Somebody whistle up Baron Samedi, mmmkay?
http://www.drinksmixer.com/cat/374/
PrettySquareGal
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Story said:
Eh? "N" word?
Marc Chevalier
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After a few "spirits" like the one above, I'll be sure to see something weird!
.
.
PrettySquareGal
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Benny Holiday said:Does that mean we technically have to change it to a 'Zombies, anyone?' thread?
Yes, for Jack Scorpian's sake. He likes zombies.
PrettySquareGal
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Haunted Cemetery
I'm convinced that the cemetery I sometimes visit and take photographs in (I went yesterday) is haunted. The thing is, the ghosts wait until night to spook me. For example, it was a beautiful spring day yesterday, and I didn't feel an ounce of creepiness*. Sure enough, right before bed, I said to myself, "I bet I'll have one of those nightmares." In the past I'd have dreams that the ground in the cemetery was swallowing me! So last night I dreamed that I was expected at a funeral. (The body?? Attendee??) I could not find it. I wandered around and around hollering for someone to help me.
Yes, these are dreams, not ghosts, but I am convinced that the ghosts have some say in the dream production!
*I kinda did half expect a spectre to tap me on my shoulder a couple of times.
I'm convinced that the cemetery I sometimes visit and take photographs in (I went yesterday) is haunted. The thing is, the ghosts wait until night to spook me. For example, it was a beautiful spring day yesterday, and I didn't feel an ounce of creepiness*. Sure enough, right before bed, I said to myself, "I bet I'll have one of those nightmares." In the past I'd have dreams that the ground in the cemetery was swallowing me! So last night I dreamed that I was expected at a funeral. (The body?? Attendee??) I could not find it. I wandered around and around hollering for someone to help me.
Yes, these are dreams, not ghosts, but I am convinced that the ghosts have some say in the dream production!
*I kinda did half expect a spectre to tap me on my shoulder a couple of times.
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Story said:
Actually it is a double reference point. Although Army of Darkness is a great cult movie that has a strange hold that makes me watch it every time it is on, the reference to that phrase is funny.
It refers to the 1951 movie The Day the Earth Stood Still. Klaatu is the main character. He tells a woman to tell this robot Gort, Klaatu barata nicto if anything happens to him. Gort resurrects Klaatu back at the ship. Quite apropos to ressurecting something.
Now we can add space aliens to the thread as well. (X Files theme music begins to play)
Regards,
J
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Story said:I reckon I could also claim a triple word score
Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R!
The Army of Darkness is just the gift that keeps on giving.
Regards to all,
J
Jack Scorpion
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PrettySquareGal said:
It is a small, blackish arachnid. Poisonous, too, so watch out. "ion," so you know for next time.
And yes, Zombies have never steered me wrong.:essen:
raiderrescuer
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My Ghost...
My mom tells me when I was a little guy I saw One large ghost and several smaller ones. It was during the summer and the Big one was a Santa/Gnome like character.
Strange part about it was when I was telling mom the story I said I saw it reach through our linen closet and punch the pillowcases and Mom got up & went to look and there was a large indentation in the middle of the sheets...too large to have been me!
Our house sits on top of an old Italian Prune Orchard. No records of anything unusual.
My mom tells me when I was a little guy I saw One large ghost and several smaller ones. It was during the summer and the Big one was a Santa/Gnome like character.
Strange part about it was when I was telling mom the story I said I saw it reach through our linen closet and punch the pillowcases and Mom got up & went to look and there was a large indentation in the middle of the sheets...too large to have been me!
Our house sits on top of an old Italian Prune Orchard. No records of anything unusual.
Canadian ghosts, eh?
Demolition of parts of the former Algoma Theatre continues to move along quickly after a short hiatus. The roof and back walls were completely down when SooNews cameras captured this image.
There's been talk around town that the theatre was haunted. The landmark theatre opened in 1922 and became a vital part of the Sault Ste. Marie downtown.
Though we can't trace back to when rumours of the theatre actually became haunted began , the story has it the basement was full of ghosts. While loading the pictures today, we noticed one image that seemed a little strange, a face , or what appears to be a face sitting on the rafter. Of course you can see what you want to see in this photo, but we decided it's just a broken piece of concrete with the sunlight hitting it a certain way....or is it?
Photograph at
http://www.soonews.ca/viewarticle.php?id=7683
Demolition of parts of the former Algoma Theatre continues to move along quickly after a short hiatus. The roof and back walls were completely down when SooNews cameras captured this image.
There's been talk around town that the theatre was haunted. The landmark theatre opened in 1922 and became a vital part of the Sault Ste. Marie downtown.
Though we can't trace back to when rumours of the theatre actually became haunted began , the story has it the basement was full of ghosts. While loading the pictures today, we noticed one image that seemed a little strange, a face , or what appears to be a face sitting on the rafter. Of course you can see what you want to see in this photo, but we decided it's just a broken piece of concrete with the sunlight hitting it a certain way....or is it?
Photograph at
http://www.soonews.ca/viewarticle.php?id=7683
