Unexplained Phenomena :

When I was young, I found an old radio at the dump and took it home. Late one night, I was playing around with it, trying to get it to work. I found an old television antenna and attached it to the radio. Then, I started slowly scrolling through the static, trying to find a station. After a while, I came to a station that was playing a weird crackling sound. I sat there listening to it for a second, then it suddenly stopped and a faint voice said, “It doesn’t work. We’re already dead. We’re already dead.” For a moment, I was stunned and then, I began to freak out. It creeped me out so much that I almost threw the radio out the window.
My friends and I liked to explore abandoned buildings. We would take photos of the inside and post them on the internet. One evening, we visited an old, abandoned factory. We made our way inside through the only entrance, a doorway with no door on it. As we were walking through the building, we started to hear a loud banging noise. Getting a little bit spooked, we decided to leave. When we got back to the entrance, we got the fright of our lives. It was completely boarded up. We ran back through the building and managed to find a window where the boards were loose. We kicked them away and climbed out. It was definitely one of the most harrowing experiences of my life so far. I still have no idea who or what could have boarded up that entrance in the few minutes after we went inside.
In the middle of my university, there was a big lake. The university buildings were on one side and the dorms were on the other. There was a small island in the middle of the lake with a gazebo on it. There were two bridges that went across the lake. The first bridge led to the island and the second led from the island to the other side. To get home, you either walked the long way around the edge of the lake or took a shortcut over the bridges.
One night, I was going back to my dorm and I was walking over the first bridge. As I reached the top, I noticed a figure in a white hoodie on the second bridge, coming towards me. As I came to the end of the first bridge, I lost sight of him. I didn’t think anything of it… until I crossed the island and walked up the second bridge. There was no one there. He would have had to go right past me. There was no other way to get off the bridge. He was just GONE.
I ran back to my dorm and when I got there, my roommate was home. Breathlessly, I told him I had seen something disturbing on the bridge. He stopped me and asled, “Was it a person in a white hoodie?” It turned out he had seen the exact same thing a year before. From that moment on, I never went across that bridge aagain and always took the long way around.
I am a musician and I mostly compose ambient music. I had an idea for a new project. I was going to record the sound of myself sleeping, and then set it to music. At the time, I lived alone in a remote area. That night, I set up all my microphones and equipment around my bed. I fell asleep around midnight with the tape running. The next day, when I reviewed the recording I heard something that left me completely horrified. At exactly 3 hours and 24 minutes into the recording, I heard the sound of my bedroom door opening.
My mother told me that, when I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend named Jessie. I don’t really remember much about him, but my I remember my parents asking about him quite a lot. They seemed quite concerned. My mother said that one day, she was taking me into town to go shopping. We were walking past a graveyard and I suddenly broke free from her grasp and ran through the gates. My mother called out to me, but I didn’t listen to her. She followed me into the graveyard and she said I ran straight over a small grave and just stood there, staring at it. It was the grave of a little boy named Jessie who had died when he was 5 years old.
Years ago, I was working as a paramedic. A call came over the radio telling us to go to a highrise building where a man was having a heart attack. When we got there, the man was lying on the floor, clutching his chest. His skin was clammy and he was breathing heavily, complaining of agonizing chest pains. We rushed everyone out of the room and began attending to him. He seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. At one point, he began begging us to help him, saying he didn’t want to die. It looked like we were going to be able to save his life. Suddenly, he looked past us, at the corner of the room and his eyes grew wide. His face became white and he tried to scoot backwards, as if he was trying to get away from something. We held him down and told him to relax and stop moving around. He paid no attention to us. His face had a look of sheer terror and he was staring at the corner of the room, screaming, “I don’t believe it! No! No! NOOOOOOOOO!” Then, he suddenly flat-lined. We weren’t able to bring him back. He died right there on the floor, his face frozen in a horrific grimace. When I think about it now, it sends a shiver down my spine. I still don’t know what it was he saw in those final moments.
One night, I was in my bedroom, studying hard. I had an important exam the next day. Around midnight, there was a knock on my door, and I heard my mother saying: “Honey, I brought you a snack. Open the door.”
I was busy and didn’t want to take a break, so I just replied, “Leave it outside. i’ll get it later.”
There was no answer. Again, I heard her knocking on the door and she repeated: “Honey, I brought you a snack. Open the door.”
“I don’t want any snack,” I said.
Then, I heard my mother fly into a rage. She went berserk and started screaming at the top of her lungs, “Shut up! Just open the door!! Open it!! Open it, damn you!!!!”
I was shocked. I had never heard my mother behave like this. I was about to get up and open the door, when I stopped. Something didn’t feel right.
Outside the door, I heard my mom whining, “Please… honey… open… the… door…”
That was when I remembered that my parents were away for the weekend. The house was supposed to be empty. The noises stopped and I heard the patter of footsteps going down the stairs. I spent the rest of the night in my room, afraid to go outside. Whoever or whatever was outside my room that night, it wasn’t my mother. I still wonder what would have happened if I had opened the door.


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