Your Stories

Crying Girl in the Cemetery - Blackbird

I used to frequent the cemetery to do homework when I was in highschool. I dont know, it just felt peaceful I guess. I would sometimes get an uneasy feeling but overall I prefered being there over anywhere else.

When it comes to the paranormal, I would sometimes hear voices that had no explination, leaves would move with no wind, that sort of stuff. Nothing crazy or completly terrifying for most of my time spent there.

That all changed one day. I was doing my usual, and I set up next to the big pine tree in the middle of the cemetery. The day was picturesque, cloudy and slightly windy with a chill that didnt get down to the bone. I adored it. I was getting ready to do some reading when I heard someone crying. Crying isnt an unusual sound in a graveyard, but I didnt want to disturb someone greiving. I got up to move, and I looked around for the source of the noise, and I saw a girl. She looked kind of young, late teen? She had this long blond hair, and wore this backless black dress.

I dont know what came over me, but I was drawn to her. She radiated a sort of sadness that I cant describe that made me want to help her. I began walking over to her, but as I got closer she didn't get... clearer? You know when you walk up to someone and you see more and more of their details? I wasnt getting that, in fact, she was getting more unfocused. It really messed with my head. I realized something was wrong when I noticed that I could see the letters of the grave she was crying in front of, like she was disapearing! At that point I had just stopped, and stared at her.

She looked up at me, and her eyes were this striking blue. I felt like I couldnt move, couldnt talk. After that, she disapeared entirely, fading like smoke. I was terrified.

I only came to the graveyard after that once. I cant explain it, but I still felt drawn to it. I bought some flowers and went back to the grave that I saw the girl crying at. The grave was pretty new, it belonged to someone named Loretta. I don’t know if she was the spirit, or if the spirit was mourning her, but I left the flowers regardless. I never came back after that.

Eyes in the Woods - Mariane S.

This happened to me back in 84. I used to be an avid hiker, one of the types who knew every trail in her area like the back of her hand. I lived in Selcouth between 77-89, and I got to know each trail as well as anyone can. My favorite was the Otter Tooth trail in Pottersfield woods. One day, I was heading back down, it was getting a bit late, and I noticed this thumping sound behind me. It was the sound of something knocking on trees or something. Thought it might be a squirrel or one of the stupid kids who played in the woods at the time. I looked back a couple of times, but I didn't see much. When I finally got to the edge of the woods, I saw this pair of eyes. They were yellowish, ugly things. I didn't get a good look at them before they disappeared into the brush. Scared me shitless. Didn't know until later that it might've been the Stalker. Wasn't much a believer of the unnatural until then. I keep my hiking to the daytime now, when I have the energy to get my lazy ass off of my couch.

Drowned Ghost? - Something Fishy.

I know you probably get a lot of phony submissions, but mine is real, I swear. Nobody else believes me. Please, believe me.

It was about three months ago. I was taking a stroll at night, up the north side of town. I'd been drinking some, but not a lot and I needed to drive home. I figured a walk could sober me up before I needed to go. I was barely buzzed, not even really tipsy and certainly not drunk. And, besides that, I'm pretty sure booze can't make you hallucinate.

Anyway, I was walking, right? And I hear these footsteps behind me, like an echo of mine. I try to look surreptitiously from the corner of my eye, but I catch nothing. I stop, the footsteps stop. I speed up, the steps speed up. They're nearly a second behind mine and they sound like they're getting closer.

I turn around fully and there's nothing there except the fog. Thinking it may have just been my imagination, I turn back.

I'm met face to face with a man, a sickly pale and dripping wet. I'm frozen, stuck staring at his glassy eyes. I can't really say he opened his mouth. More like he unhinged his jaw and out fell a load of sea water, smelling like salt and fish. He started to groan like he was struggling to say something and I guess that knocked me out of my stupor, since I chose that moment to turn and run. I'm smart enough to know not to stick around, double check these things. That's how people in horror movies get killed.

Unfortunatly, that means I don't really know what I saw that night. Just what I thought I saw. Nobody really believes me, though. I don't think they want to. I don't want to believe me, either, but I know what I experienced.I'll be frequenting the bar on the south side of town, from now on.

the thing - Bill Backer.

somethings in those woods. not the Shakers or the Knocker, lost hikers or lost pilgrims. this thing is older. older than Massachusetts, older than the tribes that lived here before. hell, i'd argue it's older than man. i've seen it with my own eyes. this thing, I don't even know what to call it, don't know how to describe it. it's dark, that's all I can say, evil.

Lumber mill night-shift worker - D.

I worked at the lumber mill back in the '90s, good job for a kid with no degree past high school. See, I wanted to move out of Selcouth, and I needed funds.

So yeah, worked at the lumber mill. I was a night shift cleaner, the only one, so I worked pretty much the whole night dusting and sweeping and whatever else they wanted me to do. Place was creepy as hell at night, felt very eerie. Never liked it much, but hey, pay was half decent so I couldn't complain much. Now, I had heard about the fire, what kid in Selcouth hasn't, they near about drill it into our heads in school and during Halloween. I didn't believe a lot of the ghost nonsense though, thought the stories were made up by stupid teens or parents trying to keep their kids away from the lumber mill. Stupid stories for stupid small-town people.

Working there at night though, I couldn't explain, can't explain some of the things that happened to me there. I heard banging with no cause, screaming with no people, saw things. All I can say is, working at the lumber mill changed me. I don't recommend going in there at night, I remember kicking kids out weekly, but if you gotta convince someone, you go to the lumber mill.

Ghost Puppy - No name provided

When I was a kid, I swear my house was haunted by a ghost dog. I know this sounds batshit but I swear to God this is true.

My parents told me that when I was a baby (just learning words) I would always scream "doggy!" at nothing. My family never owned dogs, ma hated the fuckers, so they had no explination. As I grew up, I would hear scratching at my door, barking when my family wasn't home, I saw weird shadows. I cannot emphasize enough how much this scared the ever loving shit out of me. I moved out at 18, soon as I could.

I love that house, but holy shit I always get a hotel when I visit. My parents think I'm crazy, but at this point who doesn't. I hope that dog is resting in peace now, but I don't care to know.

Abandoned House on Orange Ave - C.S

I don't exactly know how to start this story. It's been a good few years since I moved away from Selcouth, even more years since this happened.

I was one of those "goody two shoes" kids. Never got in trouble, never stuck my nose where it didn't belong. Good kid. My brother, on the other hand. He was a shit. God almighty. He was always getting into trouble, and he only ever succeeded in getting me to join him once.

It was October 2002, I was freshly 16, and my brother wanted to sneak off with his friends and do whatever boys wanted to do in 2002. I had a crush on one of his friends, so like an idiot I agreed to come with them.

It was a beautiful night, chilly enough to sting but not to get under your jacket. I walked behind the group, feeling completely out of place and with no idea of the adventure of the evening.

As we walked onto Orange Ave, however, I knew exactly where we were going. Every kid in Selcouth flocks to explore the abandoned house on Orange Ave, which is apparently haunted by a murdered housewife from the 50s. I did NOT want to go, but I also didn't want to walk home at night, so I just kept walking with them. I asked if we could go, but my brother said that we had already arrived, so there was no point. The boy I liked also made a joke about me being scared. I kept my mouth shut. As we approached the house, I was overcome by this strange feeling, I can't describe it. I wanted to leave, but I also wanted to get closer. As we entered, I was instantly surprised by how clean the house was. The old thing had been abandoned since the 60s, so I expected graffiti, vandalism, the like, but it only looked like an old house.

The boys snickered as they pulled out spray paint, I rolled my eyes and made my way upstairs, drawn to the feeling I was getting, but before I got to the top stairs, I heard the boys screaming to high hell and running out the door. They slammed the door behind them, leaving me in a crumbling old house. I felt so betrayed, but strangely enough, I didn't feel scared. Something sort of calming came over me, and I walked down the stairs and out of the house. I can't explain the feeling, a part of me always believed that an angel came down and brought me strength.

My brother later told me that they had heard a woman's scream, as clear as if it had been right next to them, but saw nothing and decided to get on out.

Years later, I came back to the house during the daytime. The experience I had always stuck with me, and I wanted to see some proof that it had happened. It was just a house then, and I've had my doubts about the whole experience, but I wanted to share it, get something off my chest.

Rope - Roxie

Before I start, I want to say that I hate the Pottersfield museum as much as the next Selcouth resident. It's so tacky and stupid, and the fact that it displays bodies is more than disgusting.

Now with that said, I did go when I was a snotty teen. I'm definitely not proud of it, but sue me I was CURIOUS! You can't blame a girl for being curious!

It had just opened (sometime in 2016?), and I went when there was nobody there. Probably cause nobody wanted to be there. The vibe was sort of, slimy? Like it was gross and sort of damp, if that makes sense, nothing felt bad just gross.

I was exploring the museum when I came across the artifact room, which was boring as hell. Just some weird old stuff. I was about to leave when I heard something, sounded like someone tapping on glass with their nail. I turned around to see what was going on, maybe some dumbass kid touching something they weren't supposed to, but there was NOTHING THERE! I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest I was so scared. It was coming from this container with an old looking rope inside. I know it's how people get murdered in horror movies but curiosity was eating at me, and I walked over to investigate. The plaque said something about hanging, and as I looked up at the item again, I saw a figure in the reflection of the glass. I couldn't see it super clearly, but I think it was this tall, thin woman with long hair flowing behind her. Her eyes though, I can't forget the look in her eyes. It was this strange mix of horror and hate. I skedaddled out of there as quickly as possible.

Never been back, never will be back. IDK what I saw, and IDC if people believe me, but it happened and nothings changing my mind.

Through the Window - Ally

My family used to live in Selcouth, back in the early 2000s. We had this big, beautiful house right by the Selcouth Forest, in which I used to play as a kid. I loved that house... until Halloween night of 2003. I was in middle school at the time, and my friends had just left after trick or treating. My parents were in bed, but I wanted to stay up and watch a scary movie that my friend had recomended. I loooooved scary movies, and I never got too scared of them, so I wasn't worried about getting scared. I was getting some popcorn when I heard a noise outside. It sounded like footsteps, but they were big and heavy. I can't deny, my first thought was that my friends were trying to scare me. All of the blinds were shut, so I couldn't see them, but I was almost certain. They pulled shit like that all the time, it never worked. I decided to scare them back, thought it would be funny to get them back. So, I snuck up to the window that I heard the footsteps coming from, and pulled the blinds back quickly. Instead of my friends, however, there were two bright, catlike eyes staring down at me. This thing was huge, just a bit taller than 5'7 me. I didn't get a good look at it, though. I ran to my parents room, screaming all the way. My dad went out with a shotgun, but found nothing, not even paw prints. We moved soon after that. My parents didn't believe me entirely, but they knew that I was scared (I didn't get scared easily). It gave my mom the excuse to take a job a few states over too, so it all worked out. I still have a thing with windows, even alll these years later.

Urban Exploring, the old Lumber Mill - Jack Ingof

This story is my friends (he gave me permision), he loves urban exploration, dude is crazy for it. I can't even imagine the depth that this interest goes.

He visited me in Selcouth one year, and wanted to explore some of the abandoned and old locations. I gave him some spots that I knew of, but didn't join him (I have asthma and its hard for me to go into those places). He went to the asylum, some of the abandoned houses, and experienced nothing paranormal to my knowlege. Said he heard what could be a woman's voice in the asylum, but nothing else.

When he came back from the lumber mill, he looked like a new man. I sort of made fun of him for it, but I stopped once he told me what happened.

He told me that he snuck in through an open window, and avoided the night shift worker pretty easily. Apparently the dude barely moved from his desk. He mainly explored the basement. Finally, he came across one room. My friend didn't describe it too well, because he was focused on a man, who was stood in the middle of the room staring at him. My friend told me that he was scared shitless, thought he was caught by night shift worker or ran into some drug addicted squatter. He said that the man was wearing an old looking uniform, and he looked like he was speaking, but no words were coming out. I think he ran into Matthew Brown, sounds like the stories about him. The man put his arm up, and just like that my friend heard screaming. He said that the screaming sounded like nothing he had ever heard before. Screaming of hundreds. He looked around for the source, and then looked back to where the man was to find that he was gone. My friend left as quickly as he could.

I didn't keep in touch with this friend, but after looking through this website I remembered his story and reached out. He told me I could tell it, and let me know that he still does urban exploring. He just looks into the history more than he used to.