I live on a compound by myself (I know it sounds Waco-ey, but It’s really my tiny home, work shop, and a couple of other buildings for food/equipment storage and a guest room).

One bad snowstorm knocked my area OOC, so I decided to hunker in for the long haul. I spent almost two weeks without leaving.

Three days in, I get woken up to a knock at the door. I get up to answer it and halfway there, I realize the only way this guy could knock on my door is if he broke the lock.

So I grab my shotgun and ask him through the door who he is and what he wants. Guy says nothing and keeps banging. I go out the back door and sneak around front and I see a man who is on the ground, covered in blood, and shouting (albeit quietly) for help.

Turns out he was driving and crashed and dragged himself 5 miles down the road until he came to my place. By then he realized that I forgot to lock the bottom part of the gate and weaseled in.

Luckily he survived.



Not exactly seclusion but lived alone in an old house and had a creepy stay.

Again, the house was old – a huge house built in 1915 and converted into apartments for WWI soldiers before they went overseas. I rented one apartment (about 1000 sq. feet by itself) and the rest of the house was empty rooms and a giant staircase. As soon as I moved in I met the next door neighbor, Rebecca, who (about 30 seconds into the conversation) asked me if I knew the house was haunted. I laughed it off but she insisted it wasn’t safe. Wasn’t worried, moved in, cleaned out a lot of junk and fixed the place up as well as I could.

Over the next few months Rebecca and I ran into each other here and there, and each time she added to the story. Apparently there was an old lady who lived in the apartment before me who never left, never opened the windows, and never cleaned. She died in the apartment and there was an estate sale to get rid of some of her stuff. Rebecca told me during the estate sale she had gone into the basement and regretted it.

About a week later I decided to go check out the basement, I think partly to prove to myself I wasn’t concerned. I was also curious. I’m not superstitious and I don’t believe in ghosts, but the occult is interesting to me. As soon as I stepped in the basement I was creeped out. It smelled musty but not like I have ever smelled before. Along the steps there were burned down candles that made blueish-gray wax puddles. The basement itself had 2 huge water heater tanks (also covered in wax) and an empty concrete floor behind the tanks that had nasty looking towels around and more candles. Bizarre but not haunted.

At this point I’ve lived in the apartment by myself for about three months without any problem. My car got broken into one night but that wasn’t surprising given the neighborhood. Nothing strange had happened until the night I checked the basement.

At 4AM I bolted awake because I heard something in my room. This was odd for me because I sleep like a dead man. Sat in bed for a minute, heard nothing and went back to sleep.

Around 6AM I had a night terror. Heard the noise again and woke up but this time had sleep paralysis. I saw a black figure walk in my room and stop just inside the doorway. At this point I think it’s a robber and I start trying to ask what he wants but I can’t speak or move. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before and I was terrified. After the longest 2-3 minutes of my life I willed myself out of sleep and the whole atmosphere changed. No one was there, nothing was out of place, no locks were broken, nothing. I quickly got ready and showed up at work two hours before it opened.

Over the next few weeks I would hear the sound again here and there. It was a scratching and thumping sound, always very early in the morning. As soon as I would wake up it would stop. Then one morning it was especially loud. Still dark outside, 5AM, I heard it just behind the headboard of my bed. This time I made sure I was totally awake. I laid perfectly still and didn’t even breathe and I heard it again now fully awake – there was definitely something in my room. After the sleep paralysis/imaginary robber episode I had bought a kids baseball bat and set it next to my bed for self defense (can’t afford a gun). I picked up the bat and slid out of bed.

Every minute or so I would hear the rusting/scratching/thumping noise. It was in my closet. I stood outside the door and my heart was pounding at this point. All the stories of the place being haunted, the creepy basement, the sleep paralysis episode, the weird early morning noises – all of it had built up in my mind and led to this moment. I was about to do battle with some evil force.

I threw the door open and swung into the darkness, hitting nothing. I beat my clothes like a mad man but there was nothing in there. Then I heard a little scurry on the floor and saw something jump into one of my shoes. Upon closer inspection, it was a baby squirrel.

I went outside later and found a hole in the roof. There was a family of squirrels living in my ceiling that was very active in the early morning, and one of the babies had somehow managed to find its way into my closet to scare the hell out of me. Not haunted, just squirrels.



In 2007 I was working on a trail crew in the Trinity Alps of Northern California. We had 13 people on the crew and a few support staff.

At this point we’d been in the woods for about 2 and a half months. We had all seen and heard bears, mountain lions, pretty much anything you can think of that would make terrifying noises.

After dinner one evening, most of us are sitting around the fire doing whatever and all of a sudden there’s a LOUD agonized screaming sound. It was unlike anything any of us had heard. If I had to describe it, I’d call it a mountain lion’s shriek combined with the horror of a banshee. Everyone was understandably freaked the hell out.

It sounded reasonably close so a few of us, myself included, decided to investigate. About three miles from our base camp there was a creature tied to a tree, absolutely losing it’s mind. It was a fucking llama. At this point, it’s 10pm or so, 25+ miles from the nearest trailhead and we find this llama tied to a tree just off the trail. We tried to calm it down without much success and went back to camp.

The next morning, the llama was gone. It looked like it had broken it’s restraint and run off. We kept hearing the horrible llama noises from time to time for a few weeks.

Towards the end of the season a group of hunters passed us on the trail and after chatting for a bit we found out they tied the llama there because it decided to be stubborn and refused to walk anymore. Apparently it laid down in the trail and WOULD not move. So they left it and decided to come back for it.

We figured at that point, the llama was probably dead. We hadn’t heard any hellacious llama screams for a few months and didn’t really think about it. However, at the end of the season when we all finally got back in the crew van and were driving out, that damn llama jumped across the road about 30 yards in front of us.

I still think about the demon llama from time to time, I hope he had a fulfilling life in the trinities.



Some friends and I would take my truck up in the mountains during the winter time and tow someone on a tube across the snow. We’d drop the tailgate in my old long bed Ford and a few guys would sit in the back with one of those bazillion candlelight spotlights. When I was driving it’d be fun to make really wide turns in the dark so the person on the tube didn’t have the luxury of headlights or taillights to somewhat illuminate their trail. The person in the bed of the truck with the spotlight would be funny and shine the light clear off to the side so it was pitch black if you were on the tube.

One particular winter night a snowstorm was rolling in so we headed up to the usual spot and it was DARK that night. A friend was on the tube, I was driving watching my mirrors as I’d swing him wide enough he had little light to see anything. The guy with the spotlight shined the light clear to the side of the truck and as I checked my mirror and I made eye contact with a guy dressed in jeans, a red plaid shirt, and a blaze orange ball cap.

As we made eye contact I lost all control of my body for probably only 5 seconds, but it felt like an eternity. I stopped the truck and turned it around and asked the guys if they saw him. They all said no, so I flipped the truck around and turned on the high beams and they shined the spotlight all over. I got out and looked for footprints in the fresh snow and saw nothing.

That night we went back home and I told my dad about the weird experience and he didn’t think anything of it. A week later on the news the police reported finding a body in the area close to where we were and asked for any tips. My old man convinced me to call the police and tell them we were up in the area and saw that guy. I called and the police said they’d send an investigator over. He came over to the house, I recalled the same experience saying it happened 7 days earlier.

As soon as I said that, the investigator asked me “you are sure on your date?” Which I was positive, and he showed me a picture of the body they found wearing the same red plaid shirt and blaze orange ball cap. He informed me the body had been on the mountain for at least 1 month so I must have just seen something. Turns out it was a man who suffered from some mental handicaps and committed suicide on the mountain, 1 month prior to when I saw him.



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