I was visiting a couple friends of mine in Austin, TX and was staying with them in their apartment when this happened. I was staying with them for two nights and the first time I slept in their spare room.

Around 2006 or 2007 my family decided to tour around British Columbia. One of the stops we made on the trip was a historic gold-rush town called Barkerville. 

About 3 years ago my friend invited me to sleep over at her house, we were around 13 at the time. 

We went to bed at about 12AM, but I had a hard time falling asleep seeing as I usually went to bed a little later.

I can’t remember exactly how old I was when this happened. I’d say it happened nearly 10 years ago during my early teen years. My parents were out and so was my eldest sister.

When I was younger, I slept in a different room from the one I occupy now. This came about when over the course of about two weeks in the summer, I had heard noises of construction on the part of the roof above me. Every night, I would hear the sounds of hammering and drilling, and quiet footsteps.

You asked for some Crypto stuff so here we go!

So last year for Christmas my uncle sent my dad a book on the mafia.The wrapping paper looked old and sort of like it had been in storage for a while. Considering my uncle and aunt are notorious for re-gifting and giving odd gifts, this wasn’t surprising.

Recently, my town (a city in Northern Kentucky, just across the river from Cincinnati, Ohio) started “ghost tours” during the month of October. Until the late 1950s, my city used to be full of gangsters, mafia, and gamblers, so there were plenty of murders, suicides, and other weird happenings going on to ensure a history full of tragedy.

Last month, my wife, my parents and I went on this particular walk that consisted of walking around a few blocks of the city, looking at old buildings and listening to stories that took place at these locations. My parents grew up on one particular street that was included in the walk, so they were able to verify most of the stories for us. When we got in front of the building my mom grew up in, the woman guiding the tour told us a really creepy story that I’ve been trying to verify for over a month now, but I can’t seem to find any information online about it. Maybe one of your followers will know more about it. 

Before I even start, I’ll apologize for my bad english. it’s not my first language, so i’ll try to keep this short.

I have a friend who’s really rich. She lives in this huge old farmhouse in a rural area, surrounded by woods and fields: it’s really pretty, but even as a child, I always felt like something was off in her house. Up until recently I’ve chalked it up to the fact that we used to watch a lot of scary movies in her den and cry and sprint to her room on sleepovers, and I’ve just had a scary association. But now I’m thinking it might be something more than just that. 

Location: Kansas City, Missouri, USA

I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. The time was about 2 am. When I walk down the hall to use my bathroom, I get a good view of the living room and so I saw that the living room lights were on and I saw a man standing at the top of our stairs. That night my step dad had gone camping with my younger brother and some others so I thought he had come home to get something. I didn’t think anything of it and continued to use the bathroom. As I was walking out of the bathroom to go back to my room I noticed the living room lights were now off and my “step dad” was gone.

Possibly one of the scariest things that’s ever happened to me took place on a school trip to the Isle Of Wight when I was 11.

I have a distinct memory of an incident that occurred one night when I was about eight or nine years old. It was at my grandmother’s old vacation home.

This took place in Scottdale, PA, in the United States [careful not to mix it up with Scottsdale because that’s in Arizona]. It was about six years ago, so I was eight and my sister would have been going on seven.

A girl was studying late at night and she was listening to the radio. The station was taking calls from people, and they would tell ghost stories. Then the DJ would rate them (haha). When the segment is over, the DJ would replay all the ghost stories in case some listeners have missed it. So one caller called and started to tell his story.