Tonight's Trippy Tales..."Evil Approaching" & "The Pleading Tin Can"

Thanks for visiting the playhouse!

I have some great stories for you tonight, but I must apologize for a bit of trouble I'm having with the blogger site. I can't seem to enlarge some of the font, so I hope you're able to read it so small. I also can't change the font style or italics in some areas. It's quite annoying!

The blogger site has been acting weird like that for quite a while now, and I hope they get it fixed soon...In the meantime, I appreciate your patience and understanding.

Now...about the stories...

 The first tale comes from "Serenity" of "your ghost stories" (.com) along with a reply from one of their readers.

Evil Approaching

"When I was first married in 2007, my husband and I lived in a small, 1-bed room flat on the ground floor. This place was not in the slightest bit haunted, and we were very happy there.

However, I did have one strange experience while in bed one night...

It might help if I describe the layout of our little home. There was a large open-plan living room with a tiny kitchen, and a short corridor off that led directly to our bedroom with the bathroom also coming off this corridor. Our bedroom was the only carpeted room in the flat, with the rest being wood laminate.

The night wasn't anything special, but I awoke suddenly from my sleep for no apparent reason. I have no idea what the time was, but it was still pitch dark outside.

As I lay in the darkness, trying to get back to sleep despite being wide awake, I became aware that there was something in the living room...

I instinctively knew that this wasn't a person, and an image formed in my minds eye of a black swirling fog moving about that main room.

I could feel malevolence radiating from it.

Suddenly, it seemed to know that I was aware of it, and the mist developed into a tall reaper-like figure that turned to face the bedroom!

With growing horror, I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom!

The sound changed as it entered the little corridor (as you'd expect them to when moving from a very large room to a more confined space) and at that point, a voice in my head clearly said "shut your eyes!"

The order was given with such urgency, that I complied just as the sound of footsteps moved from the wooden floor of the corridor to the carpeted bedroom.

The sound of the footsteps changed, just as you'd expect it to, when moving from a hard surface to a soft one.

I was so terrified that I hardly dared to breathe, and in my head, I could see an image of a very tall (around 7ft), black robed figure standing beside the bed looking around the room.

It looked like the classic grim reaper but without the scythe or a wraith from Lord of the Rings. I slept with my head very close to the door, so you can imagine my terror that this thing was so close to me!

As suddenly and mysteriously as it arrived, the presence sort of faded away and I gradually felt safe enough to open my eyes again.

My heart was pounding, and there is no way that this was a dream - that evil presence was there, just inches from me!

I guess the main point for dispute, is that I didn't actually see anything with my own eyes - it was all images in my head, apart from hearing those footsteps.

The voice urging me to shut my eyes, was probably just instinct working overtime.

One odd thing, was that I got the impression that if my eyes had been open, and I'd looked directly at the entity, something bad would have happened.

It seemed to be looking around the room, as if it couldn't see me with my eyes shut (I know that sounds really childish!)

I'm afraid the whole experience is basically, pure gut instinct and mental images, but it unnerves me to this day.

So much, that I thought I'd share it and see what others make of it."



Reply from "Happy Spirit":


"Great story!
Here's my theory about why you were guided to close the eyes:

I believe that something within our brain is capable literally of producing light. The pineal gland (in the middle of the forehead) has been proven to contains light sensing cells, same as the retina, and I believe is made to sense and monitor this internal light.

The light production increases in the spiritually developed or even when ordinary folks have a peak experience. Hence the term "enlightened."

If sufficient light is produced it can emanate from the skull and be perceived by sensitive people (as a halo.) The light also comes out our eyes - not enough to see with the naked eye - but a dark spirit would be able to see it.

Serenity, by opening your eyes and looking at the dark mass, it saw you.

By closing your eyes you became invisible again, as the spirit could not perceive the rest of you.

This may also be the reason for the common experience of feeling safe, as children, when we put our heads under the covers.

It wasn't just that we couldn't see the spooks - they couldn't see us."

"The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it."-New American Standard Bible


And now for our second tale...it comes from "Unsolved Mysteries.com" from an author simply called "Someday"...I thought it was a really neat story, and I hope you will too! :)

THE PLEADING TIN CAN

"I debated for weeks whether to write this or not. But being how
it's raked on my soul for years I might as well tell the tale.

 As a child, I was known by my mother (who was extremely religious) as possessed by demons. The reason she believed this, was due to my ability to see and hear spirits.

Every house we ever lived in, I was visited by it's previous deceased occupants.

(And believe me, there were a lot of them!)

Don't know why I was the way I was, but I have only recently have been able to control it.

My sister who had psychic dreams, was looked upon as a sort of prophet... where as. I was demon possessed.

The reason I even mention this, is because it goes with my story and I might go in to more
details about my curse some other day.

Anyway, I grew up in a tiny Texas town where most my family still resides to this day.

My mom and dad were always fighting, and almost every evening, mom packed me and my sisters in the car -threatening our dad that she was leaving him and going to California.

We would never even get to the outskirts of town before Mom would steer the car to the river, and there we would park waiting for dad to go out searching for us...which he never did.

On this one particular hot summer day in 72, us kids (crammed in to the car like
sardines) started protesting about how hot it was, so mom allowed us to get out
of the car, but warned us to stay on the gravel bar and not step a toe in the
river.

Mom wasnt only very religious you see, she was also insanely overprotective.

So me and my sisters piled out of the car like caged wild animals set free and we scattered.

Well, while I was sitting in the car, I had noticed a tin can sticking upright out of the gravel bar about a hundred yards from the water, and was drawn to it like a magnet, once free.

The moment I got to the can, I heard a moan. I looked all around thinking at first, it was one of my sisters, but then heard "Please help me" and realized it was coming from the tin
can.

I guess I was too stupid to be scared, because I squatted down and peered
into the cans open top and found that the can was hollow with no bottom that I
could tell and looked like it went down in the gravel for miles.

I could only see darkness and recall I picked up a piece of gravel to drop down in it to find
out how far it went, when I heard the moan again, and "Please, I know you're there.
Why dont you say anything?"

So, I asked something along the lines of "What do you want me to say?" And the female voice responded "Please, get me out of here!"

I still to this day, remember how franic and frail her voice sounded and recall how
terrified I suddenly felt.

But the next thing I felt, was my mom's hand across my face and my hair being jerked as she dragged me to the car.

Guess one of my sisters disobeyed her and waded in the water and mom called us back to the car.

Only I failed to hear her, and she had to come and get me -which only added to the
anger she was already feeling because of her fight with dad.

I tried to tell her about the talking can, but that only made her madder. She started calling me "possessed" again, and quoting scriptures at me all the way home. And once we got
home, I got punished even worse.

That night, I couldn't sleep and woke my older sister who had the dreams, and told her exactly what I heard.

My sister who was much wiser than I was, didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then she told me something I never forgot...

"Don't say anything to anyone about what you heard ever again. I see and hear things just like you all the time, but I keep them to myself and thats what you need to do too."

So, I never mentioned it again until today.

Our next visit to the river, the can was gone, but years later, I wondered if what I thought was a can, might have instead been a hollow tube that someone buried alive was talking and breathing through... and it rakes at my soul."

Stay tuned for more trippy tales...

~Queenie~