I was shocked when Molly and Kevin came into the coffee shop and sat down across from me.
I was having my coffee and a blueberry muffin while working on my laptop. My ghost hunting friends were busy doing other things and we hadn’t planned to meet at the coffee house. I thought this would be a good time to catch up on my websites.
Molly and Kevin came to my table, sat down and began talking. No preamble of any kind. It was a bit unnerving for me to have a young couple sit down and begin talking as though they knew me … and I them.
It was as though I should have know they spent the weekend in San Francisco and took a tour of Alcatraz and the prison.
Kevin was very precise about mentioning the prison hospital. In particular, the pharmacy. I immediately felt a cold chill run down my spine. There was something in his eyes and demeanor that told me the impact of that tour disturbed him.
I was immediately drawn into what Kevin had to say. I glanced at his wife Molly who was quietly sipping her coffee.
Very quietly, Kevin said, “I was touched by something in that room.”
I turned to Molly, who remained quiet.
Although there were many on the tour, Kevin insists he wasn’t the only one who felt something. Several cried out, announcing that they had been stabbed. The room became freezing. Many ran for the exists, insisting that some sort of riot was about to take place. They felt an urgency to escape.
Cell Block D, solitary confinement, was also a place where people felt uncomfortable. There was a sense of hopelessness that disturbed many.
They heard scuffling of feet throughout the prison, but discounted it, thinking it could be other tourists.
There was a paranormal investigation group there who were given permission to use their equipment to measure room temperature and set up voice recorders and cameras. Some tried to make contact with entities. Some recorded EVPs, but there were no ghostly apparitions caught on their video cameras. This I found out from other ghost hunters who networked with other ghost hunters to find out who had visited Alcatraz that weekend.
Molly finally spoke, “I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t of this world.”
I waited for her to explain, but she said nothing more. I wanted to question her, but I knew she would speak when she wanted to share without any prompting from me.
Quite frankly, I was feeling creeped out by the couple sitting with me. I wanted to bolt out of there.
Suddenly a college student working on her lapgop shouted, “Stop touching me!” She was sitting near the back wall, quite a distance from us. It was impossible for someone to be behind her, but she looked behind her anyway and waved her hands above her head. She got up and left the coffee shop with all eyes following her out. Molly’s eyes followed something invisible to the rest of us walking out the door, following the college student.
It became clear to me that something followed Molly and Kevin from Alcatraz.
Both Kevin and Molly became much more animated and spoke about their trip to San Francisco, but said nothing more about Alcatraz. Whatever possessed them, evidently released them.
I was worried about the college student who just left. I hadn’t seen her before or since.
I did ask the barista about her, if he remembered her. He said she was in a few times before her outburst that morning. The few times he walked by her, she would close her laptop so he couldn’t see what she was looking at, then she started sitting with her back to the wall.
I inquired if she ever came in with friends. The barista couldn’t remember anyone ever sitting with her. She spoke to no one and ordered regular coffee, black.
A few days later, couple of college students came forward to join the barista and me. “Shelley’s her name,” one said. “She was in my abnormal psych class.”
“Was?” I inquired.
“I haven’t seen her since she lost it here that morning.”
“She was weird,” volunteered her companion.
“Weird in what way?” I asked.
He shrugged and said, “Just weird.”
“She was interested in serial killers. Always wanting to know what made them behave as they did. She studied them constantly. That’s probably what she researched here each morning with her coffee.”
It seemed to fit that her interest in murderers and the entity that followed Molly and Kevin from Alcatraz could hook up.
I didn’t say anything to the barista or the young couple about what I was thinking.
I left the coffee shop and the young couple followed me to my car.
“I did see her wandering around campus a few days ago, muttering to herself,” he volunteered. “She looked awful, like she hadn’t showered or washed her hair or changed her clothes.”
The only name I had to go by was Shelley. I tried locating her with the help of friends.
I knew she needed professional help.
It’s unfortunate that there are entities among us that are waiting for a perfect prey to possess. They seem to hitchhike with those who don’t protect themselves with a white light. They can also get into objects and hide out in them. That’s why everyone has to cleanse everything they purchase before bringing it into their house or wherever they’re staying.
A couple of years later, I heard about Shelley. She frequented the mental ward of the hospital. She knew how to play the system and was usually released after a week. She would show up there monthly. Then, she stopped coming in. Many speculated she finally succeeded in committing suicide, but there were no police reports.
Upon further investigation, my friends told me she left the area. They contacted others to see if she was in a mental ward of a hospital, but it seems she succeeded in disappearing.
I haven’t seen Molly or Kevin for years. I don’t know if they’re avoiding me or if the entity is back with them and tormenting them when Shelley seeks help. Or there could be more than one entity.
I have no desire to visit Alcatraz. There have been many reports that the place is haunted and there are many people who have had scary experiences there.
I do hope you enjoyed this Real Ghost Story and will tell your friends and family about TwoCansOnAString.com
If you’ve been to Alcatraz and have a true paranormal story to tell, please leave me a comment or email me firstname.lastname@example.org
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The easy answer is the unexpected.
I truly wish there was a camera set up awhile back when my ghost hunting friends and I came running out of an abandoned house like scared children. You’ll just have to imagine a group of senior citizens running for their lives down a deserted street.
Was it a ghost or something more sinister?
At the time we believed it to be something more sinister, but in reality . . .
It’s important to begin at the beginning.
One of my ghost hunting friends is a real estate appraiser. He was given the task of appraising an abandoned house. He asked the owner if he could bring some friends with him and the owner agreed.
So there we were in an abandoned house. I do find it strange and rather creepy what people leave behind when they move out. Is it something they forgot or intentionally left? This thought was on my mind while I explored the house. I ended up in the basement when my friend Barbara called me down there.
She heard scratching. I told her it was just a mouse or rat. Then she drew my attention to the warm and cold spots in the room.
I could hear the scratching coming from a closet-type cabinet. I opened the latch and the door slightly. I was braced and ready to run out of the basement if anything came out.
Of course, I was expecting a rodent or something evil.
While my attention was on the cabinet, something behind me made hissing sounds.
I shot up the basement stairs with Barbara right behind me. I didn’t stop when I noticed Ralph running from upstairs and Frank from the kitchen. We kept running out of the house, the yard and even past Frank’s SUV.
Once we felt we were far enough away from any danger we regrouped and returned to the house.
The basement hissing was, of course, a cat that caught a rat.
What scared Ralph was something else entirely.
There was a fully furnished room upstairs. The woman who had once occupied the room had it all neat and tidy. Clothes were still in the closet and the dresser still had clothes in it. The night stands were full of odds and ends, too.
The first thing I noticed was a night gown on the bed.
Ralph assured me that it was the night gown that chased him out of the room and down the stairs. He was sure it was possessed. He kept hearing, “I’ll kill you!” as he fled the room and the house. Of course, we didn’t hear the threat on Ralph’s life.
Frank was in the kitchen when he ran out of the house.
He heard the locks on the back door snap into place. He had a feeling of being trapped.
That wasn’t what had him running for his life, though.
He was doing his inspection under the sink. Looking for leaks and evidence of dry rot.
He heard movement behind him.
“It sounded like a family preparing the evening meal, but when I straightened up and turned around I saw something out of a scifi movie. It was huge and had sharp teeth. It seemed to be eating something.”
Frank didn’t want to be its next course and ran out.
I decided not to go into the kitchen.
There was definitely something going on in that house. I wanted to meet the people who lived there before and hear their story.
Most of the time people like to move on and not dwell on past unpleasantness, but Frank was able to persuade the owner to give out the name and whereabouts of the renters and they were willing to meet us.
The family consisted of a man and his wife, his mother and 10-year-old twin boys.
The boys agreed there was something evil in that house. They couldn’t play video games without the controllers taking on a life of their own ruining the game for them. Even playing with toys was no fun in that house. Whatever was there would make them fly off and sometimes chase them out of the room.
They didn’t want to sleep in their room after awhile.
The grandmother explained that something was in the house. She didn’t think it evil until that last night when her bed caught on fire.
The problem with the paranormal is that she saw what she was supposed to see, but when we were in that room weeks earlier, the bed was not burnt.
The parents of the twins explained what happened to them next.
Connie was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Bill was in the basement mopping up a leak from the water heater.
He was just going up the stairs when he heard and felt an explosion.
The explosion knocked him off his feet and he did lose a leg to the experience.
Bill was the only one with a physical injury, but the water heater did not explode. The paramedics were called and they took him to the hospital.
Frank believed that creature he saw in the kitchen had something to do with it, but Bill was sure it was the water heater.
Can one evil entity cause this much trouble to a family?
But in so many forms?
That’s the problem with the paranormal, once you think you have something figured out, something new comes along.
It’s no wonder the family didn’t return to remove all of their possessions. When Frank volunteered to pack up their belongs and deliver them, the family politely declined his offer.
I couldn’t blame them. They wanted to get as far away from that house and their belongings as possible. They didn’t want some evil entity following them.
With the family experiencing different things and with us seeing things differently than what the family claimed to happen, we concluded that something evil was indeed going on in that house, but we couldn’t explain it and we weren’t going to contradict them.
It is a strange world we live in when evil forces invade our physical realm of the universe.
Fear does come in all forms, we experienced the unexpected as did the family that lived there. It came in different forms to the different individuals to the degree that got us all to run away in fear for our lives.
Barbara and I got off easy . . . a cat catching a rat . . . I do wonder why such a “natural” thing like that when the men had definite paranormal experiences. Or . . . was the cat and the rat what we were meant to see . . . and in reality it was too easy to get us out of the house . . . and where’s the fun in that for an evil entity?
Please leave a comment to share your thoughts about this Real Ghost Story and perhaps tell us of an experience of your own.
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I received a frantic telephone call from my friend Barbara early one morning.
We decided to meet at our favorite coffee shop. I was hoping others would arrive, too, to get to the bottom of Barbara’s paranormal experience.
These spirits Barbara encountered were aggressive. She accused them of drugging her husband so he couldn’t come to her rescue or at least be a witness.
“It started with the cats. The male, Barney,” Barbara began. “He started hissing and scratching violently at the corner of the room. I could see by the street light that his hair was straight up and his ears were pinned back.”
Barbara could only see the cat, nothing that was upsetting him. Then she started to get extremely cold and the hair on the back of her neck and arms were starting to stand up. She could see her breath in the room — it was that cold.
She grabbed a robe and went to the thermostat to turn up the heat. “It got really quiet. I couldn’t hear my husband breathing with an occasional snore as he usually does. The silence was really creepy. I was too scared to move away from the thermostat.”
Barbara heard scratching noises she thought might be the cat, but Barney was in his soft bed washing his face.
She started to get chills again. She listened. Then it sounded like someone was in the office. She could hear the printer printing out something, then there was a loud thud. She went to investigate. Turning on the light, Barbara saw a stapler fly through the air and hit the wall next to the door where she was standing. She also noticed where the paper cutter was thrown across the room and left an ugly hole in the wall.
“I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do. Then Barney started hissing and clawing. That’s when I left to wake up my husband.”
Before she could wake him up, the entity followed her into the bedroom and started throwing things off the dresser and pulling out the drawers and dumping them.
When the entity dumped the mattress on the floor with Barbara’s husband with it, he woke up.
What was is?
A few months ago, they saw an advertisement in the Penney Saver. There were bedroom sets, office furniture, a dining set, living room furniture and other items that weren’t listed. Barbara and her husband wanted to set up the spare room into an office and they wanted a new bedroom set so they went to take a look.
They bought what they wanted and put it into the house without smudging it. They had a fairly new mattress that fit and put their old bedroom set out in the garage to advertise the following week.
Everything seemed to be fine, but Barbara remembered scratching noises, but ignored it. Last night was the first time whatever was in the furniture dumped Harry out of bed.
“Where’s the furniture now?” I asked.
“Harry took it to the dump.”
Within half an hour Harry arrived at the coffee shop with a tale of his own to tell.
It seemed that Harry had nothing but trouble since he started loading the furniture on his truck early this morning.
“Everything weighed a ton,” Harry began. “I got Lee from next door and his son to help me. They kept making wise cracks that I had a dead body in the dresser.”
He wasn’t about to tell them of the night before and the damage whatever that was in the dresser or the bedroom set or the office furniture caused in the house.
The truck broke down twice on the way to the dump. “I had a mind to dump the load right out on the side of the road,” he said. “Some guys stopped to help with the truck. We got talking and they said they’d take the furniture off my hands.”
I almost choked on my cinnamon bun. “You just gave it to them?!!”
Obviously, Harry and Barbara were glad to be rid of it, but I can’t help thinking someone tonight or some night soon will be having a similar experience. Barbara just needed to smudge the furniture before taking it into the house. Or if it’s an evil, aggressive entity as this one seems to be, smudging may not have done any good. Perhaps the furniture should have been burned or taken to the dump for that purpose.
The sad truth is that, although you’re not supposed to take things out of the dump, it is done. It is possible that this furniture would have found another home.
I asked Harry about his truck and he said it’s running fine.
It seems the entity didn’t want to go to the dump and was preventing that from happening. I don’t know about who is going to end up with the furniture, but I doubt anyone is prepared for old haunted stuff to raise chaos in their home.
It goes to show that not all “bargains” are bargains at all.
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I Love Vintage Photographs
I wrote about this on my TwoCansOnAString.com website today.
I usually don’t like repeating links, but I thought it appropriate to share here. I’m sure you have similar photographs in your family albums with the “shadow” of the photographer.
I’m sure this is very common throughout the world . . . or maybe just North America . . . but much depends upon how many of these have been discarded or the shadow section cut off . . . it would be interesting to know.
Although there is a logical explanation . . . it brings up thoughts of “shadow people” or something more sinister.
We are more curious of the “unseen” than the seen. We’re always looking for clues in photographs of what escapes our everyday observations. Too often we don’t see what is right before our eyes.
And then there are the sounds. We put a label on them . . . oh, that’s the neighbor or the heat turned on . . . or its the wind . . .
It’s only when things are persistent that we turn to the paranormal for an explanation . . . or something that scares us to the point of running out in the still of the night screaming.
Or huddled up under the covers . . . the blankie shield.
Anyway . . . it does make you wonder a bit . . .
Waving At Ghosts
I may have mentioned this before . . . but I do see ghosts from time to time sitting on their front porch and waving as I go by. They are aware of me . . . just as I am aware of them.
That could be creepy, but it makes me feel good. I just wish I could join them on their porch and have a bit of chat . . . but it doesn’t work that way, unfortunately.
We get snippets of information from ghosts, but most of the time we have to do research . . . or watch them . . . and take note of the various times we see them throughout the town . . . and sometimes we’re so busy with our own thoughts that we miss them completely.
Yes, I’m guilty of that.
Patricia was riding to school with her mother one morning.
She saw the ghosts on the porches waving at her, so she waved back. Her mother asked, “Who are you waving at?”
“Oh that couple sitting on their front porch.”
Concerned, her mother asked, “Do you know them?”
Patricia didn’t tell her mother that they were ghosts . . . nor the fact that there were ghosts at school and ghosts at the market and just about everywhere throughout the town.
This wasn’t a topic her mother wanted to discuss.
She did, however, discourage Patricia from waving at strangers.
This was sad . . . because the ghosts were no longer waiting for her on their front porches.
When Patricia was old enough to drive herself to school, she once again waved at the ghosts sitting on their porches. She also spent more time at the cemetery. This was where she could openly try to communicate with them.
She would do her homework under a tree and ask for ghosts to show themselves to her.
They would stroll by on occasion.
She tried capturing EVPs and even pictures . . . without success.
This is all too true for many of us.
Then, one day she heard about a seance a friend of hers was having . . . since her parents were going to be gone for the weekend.
Well, things didn’t go as planned.
Patricia thought she was joining a small group of other girls . . . but boys were invited or they invited themselves . . . a Ouija board was brought in . . . and there was no psychic to conduct the seance.
With this change of plans, Patricia was tempted to leave . . . but with peer pressure . . . she stayed.
We do have wonderful hind-sight . . . too bad at a young age we allow others to influence our behavior than relying on our own common sense.
The Ouija session started out as usual. Is anyone there? What’s your name? Will Patricia and Josh get married? The usual questions.
Then, things changed when Alex wanted proof that the spirit was real. “Prove yourself,” he said. “Move something in the room.”
Alex continued his taunting until there was a huge swirl of energy knocking furniture over and pictures off the walls.
That got everyone running out the door, including Alex.
But Patricia wasn’t moving. Her friend dialed 9-1-1.
Patricia recovered from her head injury. But there was something different about Patricia . . . she changed in behavior and attire. She was possessed, or so it seemed. She would cock her head to one side as though she was listening to someone.
She knew things . . . the outcome of the homecoming game . . . the drug bust that was being planned the next day. Patricia became very popular. She didn’t have close friendships, everyone was her friend . . . including the drug dealers and the popular crowd. She didn’t care who she hurt or benefited by her information.
Actually, Patricia didn’t have any friends. She became a loner . . . a recluse . . . an outcast in many respects. She kept up with her school work and was a model student . . . and a perfect child as far as her parents were concerned.
It was the internal torment she felt within her mind and body . . . Patricia was gone . . . replaced by a spirit of some sort . . . completely missed by her parents, teachers and former friends . . . they couldn’t see what was right in front of them . . .
No one saw it . . . no one came forward to help . . . and Patricia was helpless to help herself. She had no future . . . no goals or aspirations . . .
It was difficult for Patricia to concentrate on that night with the Ouija Board . . . the supposed seance . . . she couldn’t remember what was asked, but she knew Alex was tormenting and challenging . . . her . . . not the old Patricia, but the new Patricia . . .
Well, you can imagine what went on . . . Alex was the target . . . and Alex was going to suffer . . . and suffer he did. He shattered his kneecap in a freak accident — no longer able to play football or any other sport he enjoyed. There went his college scholarship. He also lost his girlfriend . . . his parents were on him to make something of himself.
Even after Alex died from a drug overdose . . . the entity didn’t leave Patricia . . . there was always a new target . . .
Patricia lived a long life . . . she did go to college . . . she did work in the corporate world . . . she never married . . . she was very successful . . . destroyed her competitors . . . and was finally free when she died at the age of 98.
I have no way of knowing if the entity found a new vessel to possess . . . a nurse, a doctor . . . a paramedic . . . a child visiting someone in the hospital . . . a young mother or father . . . another high school student . . . a new born . . .
And maybe it returned to explore the possibilities . . . when someone played with a Ouija board.