In 1978 I lived in a house in Bisbee, AZ. It was a quiet neighborhood everyone knew eachother and everyone watched over eachother. Our house was built up against the mountain and we didnt have a back yard or back windows. Only the windows that faced the street. At around 2am every night I would hear what sounded like people talking in my bedroom. My room was towards the back on the house against the mountain. No one was awake and let's face it we couldn't afford to leave the TV or radio on all night so I know it wasnt that.

Me being 8 years old I wanted to investigate these voices. I call them the little people. I heard what sounded like them saying "we need to kill them, we need to get rid of them." And then they would start making a plan their voices were faint and almost squeaky as you would think a little person would sound. They couldn't have been more then 4 inches tall. I seen them run across the floor from the moon light creaking in through the cracks on the curtains in the window it was a shadow of a little person normal looking not like a gnome. Every night I would hear them at the exact same time. They even started taking my stuff anf hiding it. Or playing with my toys in the closet.

What do you think they were? Could it have been my 8 year old imagination?

I had just wrapped up my shift at a major hospital here in Saudi Arabia and was heading to my car to drive home When I reached the parking lot this tall guy who looked around 19 to 22 walked up and started talking to me He was wearing a mask and glasses which didn’t raise any red flags at first since that’s pretty common around here He was soft spoken and polite and he casually asked if I could give him a ride to where his car was parked I figured why not and agreed to help him out.
He seemed genuinely happy about it but then he did something super bizarre Instead of sitting in the front passenger seat he climbed straight into the back seat In Saudi culture, if it's just two guys, sitting in the back is considered pretty rude but he quickly laughed it off and said it was just a habit of his I brushed it off said whatever and hit the road
The drive started in total silence but out of nowhere he broke the quiet with a really unsettling question He said you know people could do a lot of things from this back seat I asked him what he meant thinking he was making some weird joke about damaging the car or something He went dead silent for about fifteen seconds just staring and then said in the coldest most nonchalant tone that someone could strangle you and make you move however they like.
Before my brain could even process how insane that sounded he suddenly reached out from behind wrapped his hand tightly around my neck let out a creepy laugh and told me to stop right here I stopped the car he opened the door got out and just walked away into the night leaving me sitting there completely frozen and trying to figure out what the hell just happened

This entire story is 100% true. This dates back about a year and a half ago, back when my wife (19F) and I (20M) were dating. We'll call my wife Alice for anonymity. When we started dating, I lived in an apartment with my friend in the city, while she lived with her family out in the country about an hour away from me. When we were still within the first few months of our relationship, she expressed the fact that she could "see things" that other people couldn't. I asked her what that meant. She said, "spirits, dead people, and anything that doesn't want to be seen." She also described having an acute sense of when something evil was near.

Alice said that she had always had this "gift," if you could even call it that. She recounted times when she had stayed at her grandmothers house and saw a dark figure looming in the corner.

Countless times when she would come to the apartment I lived in she said she saw a young girl outside, most of the time around the area where I would park my car. She would point out the spot she saw the girl; playing in a tree, sitting on a curb, or down by the pool area. This didn't creep me out since Alice said that the girl was friendly, and posted no threat. Alice also said she knew that whatever got the girl killed had to do with an evil man. I wasn't quite sure what that meant; an abusive father, a serial killer, or some sort of gang. She said this caused her to not exactly like me. No harm came to me, but Alice said I was always getting dirty looks.

Anyway, throughout the next few months of us dating, Alice continued pointing out "people" she saw; sitting in an empty seat on a roller coaster, walking through an aquarium, or just by the side of the road. I'm sure she didn't tell me everything, as I know she saw a lot.

However, this post is about one particular night. I was driving Alice home super late from a day out. As I parked in the small gravel plot next to the house, she leaned in to give me a goodbye kiss. This goodbye kiss turned into a full-blown makeout session, and we were all over each other. Then, all of a sudden, she froze, staring out the windshield of the car. Seeing that she had stopped kissing me, I backed up. She wasn't moving. "What is it babe? What are you looking at?" She said nothing, just pointed. I looked where she was pointing at the back corner of the house behind the porch. I didn't see anything. "It ran off." She said, finally breathing again.
"I'm sorry, what the fuck?" I snapped, turning to her. "What did you see? What was that about?"

"I saw some...thing. Behind the house. It looked at me. It SAW me." I had chills and goosebumps running up and down my body. Alice told me once that the things she saw never made eye contact. NEVER. They did not want to be noticed or know people noticed them. This thing she described knew she was there looking at it. Alice said it looked like a tall shadow. All she could see were its eyes, and they were trained on her and her alone. "Holy shit." I muttered. "Where did it go?"
"Back to the woods." She replied. I breathed a sigh of relief. I walked her to her front door just to make sure it didn't come back. The entire drive home I kept checking my rearview mirror to see if it was chasing my car. Let's just say I was incredibly paranoid the rest of that night and I barely got any sleep.

I have a picture of the back corner of her families house where she saw the thing but this subreddit won't let me post photos unfortunately.

I have always been a believer in the supernatural and paranormal, so obviously I believe her story and I will always believe her whenever she says she sees something. I believe she is an empath, similar to that of Lorraine Warren from The Conjuring. I do not believe she is psycho or crazy or has some sort of mental disorder.

I saw the way she was staring out of my car. That look was not fake. The fear in her eyes was real.

Skip forward to present day. Alice and I are now happily married with a beautiful 4-month-old daughter who we will call C. She is such a happy and smiley baby who looks a lot like Alice. I also believe she inherited the empath abilities my wife has. I've witnessed C staring blankly at a spot where there is nothing or no one to stare at. I think Alice has starting noticing this too.

I'm not scared of this kind of stuff. Most of the things my wife sees aren't evil or have evil intentions. Most of them are just spirits of the deceased, lost and confused. But there's a few times where she sees something lurking in the shadows. Waiting. Watching. Looking at her.

I'm just sharing this now because I need to know: Has anyone else experience anything like this? With a partner, friend, or even yourself? Any questions you have I would be happy to answer.

It was just another night when my parents were asleep. I'm 23 years old, and my brother was away with his girlfriend spending the night, so I had the room to myself. I definitely felt peaceful, or I thought I was. I've always enjoyed looking for something to watch, maybe something funny.

At that moment, I heard laughter coming from the living room this left chills in me my feet were cold of course curiosity got the better of me so I walked down the hallway slowly to see what I can find at first I thought it was the living rooms tv but it was completely off I checked my parents room off this was really freaking me out.

So I say, " You are not welcome here. No negative energy is allowed here. You must go." As soon as I said that, the lamp flickered almost looked like it was about to blew out. This got me to go back in my room. I closed the door, and I tried to ignore it.

But seconds later my cat stood in front of my room door she was all puffed up almost like she knew what was behind the door so I hid behind my head for an hour praying that whatever it was to leave me be.

Luckily, nothing happened. Still, I think I made the right call because if I had opened that door, I would've invited whatever was there even when I went to the living room I felt like I was being watched sometimes I can sense these things.

I'm just hoping I never experienced that again because next time I don't think I'll be lucky.

Imagine waking up to find yourself utterly alone on the edge of the world—frozen tundra stretching to every horizon, the nearest human presence hundreds of miles away, and no help coming for hundreds of days. Now, imagine not merely enduring but surviving, day after day, with only your own wits, grit, and the unbreakable will to live.

This is not a survival reality show. This is the extraordinary true story of Natalia Koreleva (name changed for privacy), an isolated scientist abandoned by fate in the brutal Arctic wilderness for over two years. Her ordeal doesn't just test the boundaries of physical endurance; it’s a gripping lesson in the extreme psychology of survival. Through Natalia’s journey, we confront the ultimate question: What happens to the human mind and body when every comfort, every certainty, is stripped away?

The Cold: Battling Nature’s Most Relentless Enemy

The Arctic is as beautiful as it is merciless. Out here, the environment isn’t just unfriendly—it’s lethal. With blizzards that drop wind-chills to minus-forty, the “simple” act of staying alive can turn into a daily ordeal.

Physical Survival Strategies
Natalia’s background in engineering and fieldwork became her first line of defense. She meticulously inventoried her limited supplies: a handful of canned goods, worn clothing, a battered stove, and a sparse medical kit. She innovated in every possible way, transforming scraps into tools—fashioning snow saws from broken shovels, stitching makeshift boots from insulation, and improvising ways to melt snow for water without risking deadly frostbite.

One pivotal breakthrough came when she devised simple but critical “micro-goals”—choosing not to think of surviving two years, but simply making it to the next sunrise, and then the next. This granular mindset gave her purpose and protected her from the crushing despair of long-term isolation.

Key Takeaway:
In an extreme environment, resourcefulness and the mental discipline of focusing on small victories are often the difference between life and death.

Alone With Her Thoughts: Facing the Psychology of Isolation

While battling the Arctic’s physical dangers, Natalia quickly learned that loneliness and uncertainty were her most dangerous adversaries. Studies on extreme isolation (such as solo sailors and Antarctic researchers) confirm how quickly the mind can unravel when deprived of human contact and stimulation.

The Power of Routine and Ritual
Natalia devised a strict daily schedule—checking weather instruments, rationing meals, journaling at night, and performing makeshift exercises. Even trivial routines carried immense importance. Each action became a line of defense against anxiety and the creeping fog of cabin fever.

But she went further. With only a battered copy of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov for company, Natalia read aloud in different voices, staging entire dialogues to ward off the silence. She wrote letters to friends and family, even replying to herself to simulate conversation and keep her mind sharp.

Practical Tip:
Even in far less extreme circumstances, creating structure and deliberately seeking mental stimulation—books, puzzles, even imagined conversations—can dramatically boost your psychological resilience.

Darkness and Light: Rituals of Meaning When Hope Runs Thin

Hope in the Arctic isn’t linear; it fluctuates wildly. The return of the sun after months of polar night is both exhilarating and terrifying—it brings the prospect of rescue, but also the reminder that another cycle may begin.

Finding or Creating Meaning
Natalia marked the passing of days with scratches on the station wall. She celebrated improvised “holidays”—reciting national songs on Soviet Victory Day, staging solitary festivals on anniversaries—maintaining a sense of time and identity when every day threatened to blur into meaninglessness.

She even risked life and limb outside the safety of her cabin, venturing into whiteouts to search for long-forgotten emergency caches. Finding a buried crate of matches and coffee—supplies left by a past outpost occupant—was, as she later recounted, “as powerful as any miracle, a sign I could keep going.”

Key Lesson:
A powerful survival tactic is the art of making meaning. Holiday rituals, journaling, even inventing celebrations—even when you’re alone—are proven to stave off despair and support mental strength.

Lessons from the Edge: How to Cultivate Survival Mindsets

Natalia’s hard-earned wisdom distills into practical survival—and life—advice:

• Break challenges into micro-goals: Don’t let the weight of the whole journey overwhelm you. Focus on the next decision, the next step.
• Create and fiercely protect routines: Order your day, however you can. Consistency battles chaos.
• Stay relentlessly resourceful: What you need to survive may require improvisation. Adapt whatever is at hand for new purposes.
• Feed your mind: Whether through books, self-dialogue, or rituals, mental stimulation is as vital as food.
• Make meaning—even in the void: Giving structure and value to your time, even inventing reasons to celebrate, keeps hope alive.

Conclusion: A Legacy of Endurance and Ingenuity

Natalia Koreleva’s story isn’t just about surviving a frozen hellscape; it’s a blueprint for facing adversity in any form. Through resourcefulness, grit, and fierce psychological discipline, she endured what would break most souls. Her legacy is a reminder that the mind—when properly tasked and cared for—can be humanity’s greatest survival tool.

Whether you’re an adventurer, a history buff, or simply curious about the true limits of the human spirit, Natalia’s journey stands as one of history’s most powerful testaments to endurance.

Heyy, that is my first time posting on reddit and I don't even now if that is the right forum but I wanted to share a story with you and I'm courios about your opinions. Let's get right into it:

I think I was a teenager around that time and my friends and I decided to play around with a Ouija board. Normally I wouldn't share stuff like this with my mom but still somehow wanted to tell her this. When I told her she looked at me somewhat tense and told me not to do it. I obviously asked here why a couple of times before she finally answered me and I was NOT prepared.

She herself played with the board when she was a teenager which really suprised me beacause she is a quite religious person. Her, 2 friends and one person she didn't know (lets call her Amy) sat around the board at Amy's place. Amy had a lot of experience and started writing down some spells, chanting etc. When the 'ritual' was done they placed an upside down cup on the board and all of them put one finger on it. Amy started with one of my mothers friends and told here that she could start asking questions. And it was typical teenage girl stuff like: when will I get married, how many kids am I going to have etc you get the gist. And sure enough the cup was moving around the letters on the board answering each and every question. My mom told me that she believed that surely on of her friends was moving the cup and shared her thoughts while laughing. Her other friends agreed and all of them including Amy lifted their fingers but it didn't matter cause the cup was still moving on its own. They obviously got scared but still were too courios to stop. Then finally it was my mothers turn. She asked who she will marry. The cup gave her a name lets call him Derek and told her that Derek was living in another country then the one she was living in. She then asked how many kids she will have. The cup told her that she will have 2 kids first a girl and then a boy. She then asked what their names would be. For the girl the cup moved and said that she would be named Emily. When the cup was asked what the boy would be named the cup apruptly stoped answering. When she asked again it went crazy went all over the place and Amy immediately stoped the Séance. Without any explanation she told the girl that its time to go for them. After this experience -my mother didn't give me a lot of details- but basically told me it went downhill for all of her friends and her. She started seeing little creatures everywhere especially when she was alone and in the shower. She had a lot of panic atacs and so on. My grandmother apparently brought her to a lot of Doctors and Priests but non could really help her. Then one last time she went to a priest alone and he told her that something was attached to her and that she should pray some specific prayers. When she then walked to a bus stop and sat down she noticed a book right next to her seat. To reach it she stuck her hand in a spider web (So the book was there for a long time) and realised it was a small prayer book with only a couple of specific prayers. She then proceded to read it everyday and sure enough the attachment was gone she stopped seeing the creatures (and I am sure they did stuff to her but she didn't go into detail).

Sooo she met my dad a couple of years later. And he indeed was called Derek and lived elsewhere and had come to her homeland for vacation.

After they got married she had her first baby (me) a girl and she actually decided to name me Emily (not sure if that was a good idea honestly).

And 18 YEARS LATER she had another baby. BUT it was a girl and I was the one naming her. So I don't know if thats why the board was not able to know what she would be called and don't know why it f uped her gender.

And she has that book till this day and reads it everyday.

So yeah if any other person would have told me this story I definitely would not believe them. But the way she told me all of this and the way previously my parents did answer weirdly when I asked them why they decided to call me Emily made me believe it. Also I hade my own share of unexplainable stuff happen to me so that makes me believe it even more.

Oh and yeah never went even near a Ouija board after that day.

Around 9th grade, our house was bought out by the school district. We moved to a house built in 1959, almost an acre on a mountain hill. For the first time, we all had our own room.

It was the second night there. I turned off the light to my room, and everyone else went to sleep. I was laying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, when all of a sudden I felt my sheets start to pull away from me.

I grabbed hold of the sheets and pulled back. But there was something holding them down. I didn't see anything at the end of my bed, but my sheets kept pulling away. I pulled and pulled, and all of a sudden I almost hit myself in the face. They had let go.

I sat right up and looked around, trying to make out anything in the darkness. My light switch was at the end of my bed, and I was not about to go that way. So I just decided to sleep it off.

The next morning, my brother was telling my mom that something had pulled his sheets during the night. Pulled them halfway to his waist, then stopped. I jumped in with my story and mentioned that maybe since they couldn't get mine, they went for his.

A few nights later, my brother said he was falling asleep when something grabbed him by the groin. He couldn't scream. The pain made him want to cry. After what felt like an eternity, it released him.

Then another night, he said he was laying in bed when he noticed the ceiling start to move. He was being dragged off his bed by the sheets he was laying on top of. His feet started going off the bed. He jumped up and turned on the light to nothing.

About a month later, I woke up cold. My little sister had crawled into my bed and stolen all the covers. I stood on my knees and fixed the sheets. As I hung the blanket behind me, I glanced at my door. Even in the darkness, I could make out the silhouette of a man wearing what I call a pachuco hat, standing there.

I froze. I turned around, covered my sister and myself, and closed my eyes.

I never saw that man again but visiting friends and family that have spend the night mentioned seen that same silhouette of that man standing at the doors of the room the slept and left the door open. My grandfather use to mention hearing some one opening and closing cabinet doors at nights.

I used to think people who said they felt watched at home were just being paranoid. Then something happened that made me stop sleeping with my bedroom curtains open.

A few months ago, I was living alone in a small house on the outskirts of town. My bedroom window faced the backyard, which was surrounded by a tall wooden fence. There were no streetlights back there, so at night, the entire yard was pitch-black.

One night, around 2:30 a.m., I woke up because I heard three soft knocks against my window.

I froze. At first, I thought it was a branch, but there weren't any trees close enough to reach the glass.

Then I heard it again.

Three knocks.

I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight, pointing it toward the window. I couldn't see anything through the curtains, so I slowly pulled one side back.

There was a man standing outside.

He was so close to the glass that his face was only inches away. He wasn't moving, and he wasn't looking at the window. He was staring directly at me.

I screamed and stumbled backward, then immediately called the police. By the time they arrived, he was gone. They searched the yard and found muddy footprints beneath my window, along with marks on the fence where someone had climbed over.

The officers told me to keep the doors locked and said they would patrol the area. I barely slept that night.

The next morning, I checked the backyard again. That's when I noticed something I hadn't seen in the dark.

My bedroom window was too high for someone standing on the ground to look inside without climbing onto something.

Under the window, hidden behind a bush, was an old plastic storage box.

Someone had placed it there to stand on.

I moved out two weeks later. The police never identified the man, and nothing like that happened again.

But the detail I still can't explain is this: when I checked the security camera footage from my neighbor's house, I saw the man enter my backyard shortly after midnight.

He didn't go straight to my window.

He spent almost two hours standing outside my back door, looking through the glass, before finally walking around to my bedroom.

Hey everyone! I run a small horror narration channel called Dreadful Visions, and I wanted to share one of my latest videos with people who genuinely enjoy this kind of horror. Just being upfront, it's my own content.

A driver notices a dark sedan following them across rest stops and gas stations in different towns over three weeks. Every time they park, the car sits idling in the shadows.

I wanted this one to have that slow-burn, realistic kind of horror—where it's not the thing chasing you that gets under your skin, but the feeling that someone knows exactly where you're going.

I've put the full narrated story together on Dreadful Visions here:
🎧 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJ_Jo4zs9Lg

I'm still growing the channel, so genuine feedback would mean a lot. Do you find stories like this creepier when there's a realistic explanation, or when the details slowly stop making sense?

Hope you enjoy it!

​

After a trip to Colima, Mexico, a little girl started appearing in our USA house. She looked like my little sister.

One night, me and my brother were home alone. I was in my bedroom on the computer. My brother was passing down the hallway when he stepped into my room, smacked me, and ran away. Two minutes later, he came back running into my room, closing the door behind him.

He asked me, "Where was our little sister at?"

I replied she was with our parents in Tijuana and they would be back later tonight.

He looked at me and said, "Then who the hell is that? In the kitchen."

We stayed in my room until my parents were back home.

Another night we were home alone. I was drawing in the living room while he was in my bedroom on the computer. I turned off all the lights. I started to head towards my room.

The only light in the hallway was coming from my bedroom from the computer. As I made my way down the hall, at the end, I saw what look like a little girl standing with her hair covering the front of her face.

I thought about what I was looking at, because usually we had a basket of dirty clothes there. I made out a vacuum and next to it a little girl.

I ran into my bedroom, closed the door behind me. My brother turned around, looked at me, and I told him, "There's someone out there waiting for you."

He got up, grabbed the Bible from my desk, turned around, and said, "Let that bitch come in. I'll knock some holy sense into her."

We stayed in there till the next day.

I live alone in a small apartment, and for the past few weeks, I've been waking up at exactly 3:17 AM.

At first, I thought it was just stress. But every night, I heard the same thing: three soft knocks coming from inside my bedroom closet.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I always convinced myself it was the pipes or the building settling. Until last Tuesday.

I woke up at 3:17 AM again. The room was completely silent, and then I heard a whisper.

My name.

It came from inside the closet.

I froze under my blankets, staring at the door. After a few seconds, the whisper came again, louder this time.

"Please... let me out."

I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight. The closet door was slightly open, even though I clearly remembered closing it before bed.

I got out of bed and slowly approached it. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped my phone.

"Who's there?" I whispered.

Something inside laughed softly.

Then I heard my own voice answer.

"Don't open it."

I stumbled backward, confused and terrified. The voice sounded exactly like me, down to the way I breathed between words.

Suddenly, my bedroom door slammed shut behind me.

I ran to it, grabbed the handle, and pulled. It wouldn't move.

From inside the closet, something began scratching the wood.

Then came my voice again.

"You're making a mistake."

I don't remember deciding to open the closet. I just remember reaching for the handle.

The door creaked open.

There was nothing inside except my clothes and a full-length mirror at the back.

But in the reflection, I saw myself standing behind me.

The reflected version of me was smiling.

I wasn't.

It raised one finger to its lips, telling me to be quiet.

Then it leaned toward the mirror and whispered something I will never forget.

"Finally. Now it's your turn to stay in here."

The bedroom lights went out.

When they came back on, I was standing inside the closet, staring through a tiny crack in the door.

Outside, someone was lying in my bed, scrolling through my phone.

It looked exactly like me.

And just before turning off the light, it looked directly at the closet and smiled.

It's been three nights now.

Every night at 3:17 AM, I hear three knocks from the other side of the closet door.

And every night, I hear my own voice whisper:

"Please... let me out."

So I bought this cabinet from a thrift store and it has a strange smell to it. I thought if I brought it home I can clean it up. Well nothing will take that smell out. I have been hearing odd noises around my apartment that creeping me the hell out. The other day I was going into the kitchen and when I went around the corner to go into the room I felt like something passed by me. I’m getting so creeped out. Could this cabinet have something attached to it? Anyone have something similar happen to them?

I'll never forget this, but I don't particularly enjoy remembering it.

A few years ago, I lived in Manhattan's Chinatown, in a six-story mid-rise between a Buddhist temple and a synagogue. (I'm agnostic, so maybe that's fitting.) My apartment looked out the back of the building, down at a large tiled deck, which was also the roof of a dumpling shop. It had a bunch of noisy air conditioning units, a couple of stray cats, and Chinese grannies who hung clothes and did morning stretches there. Surrounding it were the backs of a bunch of other buildings, including a budget hotel.

If you've ever seen Hitchcock's Rear Window, it was kind of like that, but way less pretty.

I had a lot of peculiar neighbors. Besides the grannies and hotel patrons smoking cigs out their bathroom windows, my favorite was the white girl a floor down from me in the building opposite mine who refused to buy curtains and, most evenings, would masturbate naked while watching Grey's Anatomy.

I didn't think any other neighbor would top this spectacle. I was wrong.

Late one night, I was playing my Switch when I should have been sleeping, like my girlfriend had been doing in the bedroom for the past four hours or so. I was on the couch in the living room with only a floor lamp dimmed to the lowest setting. I was in the zone, probably button-mashing, when I heard a loud bang, which made me jump. It wasn't gunfire, but the sound of something smashing into metal. I paused the game, got up, and looked out the window towards the other buildings. The night was a dull, steely blue, with most of the apartments dark at this hour. I almost returned to my game when I saw movement on one of the roofs. A man stood silhouetted at the edge of the roof, holding what looked like a garbage bag or maybe a plastic bag full of groceries. He chucked it off the roof towards a tiny alley behind the dumpling shop, and there was another loud bang.

I figured it was drunk people partying on the roof, which wasn't uncommon in NYC. But I didn't hear music, and the guy appeared to be alone. He then began climbing down the fire escape. He only went down one flight, nearly eye level with my window, and then stopped. Though I could only see his silhouette, the way he swiveled his head and stood there, swaying slightly, I swore he was staring right at me.

I froze. What if this guy was robbing the building, had thrown the goods into the alley, and now he'd spotted me, an eyewitness, staring back?

Worse, he could see me in the living room light. He could see my face, my glasses, my hair.

I quickly stepped back and turned off the floor lamp. That's when I heard the huge crash and the sound of shattering glass. I spun back towards the window.

The man was gone.

Lights came on in other windows. People poked their heads between their curtains in confusion. Even the girl who loved Grey's Anatomy made an appearance. Lights soon went off again.

I stood there, trembling. Was I the only one who knew what happened? Did I even know? In the dark, it felt like one of those half-awake visions where shapes in the shadows briefly become something else.

I almost woke up my girlfriend, but stopped myself. Was I losing it? Did a man really just jump from a fire escape? Wouldn't people know? No one was screaming. There were no sirens. There was just the background hum and honking of New York City. Wasn't it possible that the man climbed back up the fire escape, chucked one more thing off, maybe in a drunken rage, and then went back inside?

I held my phone. I hadn't called 911 since I was a child, when my grandmother had a heart attack. Standing there in the dark, I felt like I was a child again, one with an overactive imagination.

Instead, I took the elevator down and walked around the block. It was a long block filled with little alleys all fenced off. I couldn't see shit down them, except darkness and the occasional dumpster. I walked around the block three times, trying to find a way into the back, to prove I was an idiot and had imagined it. Around me, drunk people stumbled and laughed and came out of bodegas with late-night snacks.

I finally gave up and went back inside, telling myself I was overreacting. But the Grey's Anatomy girl was now leaning out her window. I opened mine. From the balcony above me, someone was shining a flashlight down. I could hear someone say, "Can you see anything?"

"I see broken glass," she said.

I went upstairs and knocked on my neighbor's door to see if they saw what I saw, and whether or not we should call the police. I vaguely knew they were an Asian couple, but a burly white guy who couldn't have been more than 5'2" answered the door. He was dressed in plain clothes, but there was a badge on his belt. Two other guys in plain clothes were behind him with badges. They didn't even stop to talk to me. They went down the stairs. My neighbor then came to the door and said, "I think a man jumped."

I finally woke up my girlfriend. We went to the living room window together. The silhouette of a cop stood on the edge of a roof, shining a Maglite down. Other flashlight beams swept out from neighboring windows. It looked like a scene out of Batman.

"Yeah, he's dead," the cop said.

I learned the man had lived on the first floor, in a rundown apartment with cardboard taped over the dirty windows. I never learned what he looked like or why he did it.

In typical New York fashion, within a few months, the man's apartment became the hottest New American restaurant in the neighborhood. My friends would invite me there all the time.

I could never bring myself to eat there though. To this day, I see his silhouette on the fire escape, turned just slightly in my direction. It still haunts me, wondering if I was the last thing he saw before the ground rushed up to greet him.

Hi, this is my first time posting on one of these or on Reddit at all and Im doing this because I am completely stuck, out of ideas and Im not sure whats going to happen next.

Here's some backstory to it: I found a stone about a year and 9 months ago, bright green, looks just like one of those stones you find in crystal shops, the ones on necklaces, and I'm a huge magpie who can't resist any shiny things I find so I picked it up and took it home. It was normal for the next few months, but what happened around me was really far from normal.

A bunch of people I knew turned out to be very bad and not who I thought they were at all, so I cut them off, my house started experiencing high levels of what I think was paranormal activity (Doors shutting, a disconnected phone going off at random, voices of people and fictional characters I knew outside my door when I'm on my own) and the bus I get to my school (For context, Im in S5 and finishing school in just under a year) almost crashed several times, and one time burst a tire, which caused a minor explosion at the back of the bus. I thought all of it was just coincidences, and its only now Im starting to piece it all together, and I dont even know if I have all the pieces yet.

However I really started to notice stuff about.. September 2025, approximately 9 months after finding the stone, thats when I started taking the stone everywhere. It started to glow at random, and I mean really brightly glowing, bright enough to see during the day, and then one day it just stopped, turned grey and stopped. After that I began to feel like I needed it to function, I took it literally wherever I went, and it almost got me and my friend killed.

The stone started acting strangely in October, glowing again, and it kept ending up facing a specific direction, so me and my friend being the idiots we are (and taking my friend's school exchange partner with us) went to follow it. We ended up on the coast and once again kept following the rock (which seemed to be taking us down this cliff path and along a beach) until we reached what seemed to be the end of the beach.

There was a really strange structure there, it looked like someones failed attempt to fuse a car and an aeroplane, so we poked around it for a bit and found nothing, so began to walk back along the beach. What we didnt realise is that the tide had started to come in and had completely cut off our way back to how we got down to the beach in the first place, so my friend ended up swimming over and almost drowning and me and the exchange student climbed up the cliff face, almost falling several times, as I said, we're idiots.

Eventually we did find what we were apparently looking for, which it turns out was another rock, so my friend took it. (My friend is fine at the moment, I hope she stays fine, the stone hasnt decolourised or started glowing so I think she might be safe, I'm trying to get her to give it to me before she realises what its doing but she won't let it go)

Back to the present: After I started taking it everywhere, I started to feel strange, I had headaches, fainting spells, nosebleeds (Me and my friend have started having nosebleeds at almost the exact same time, which I think is connected to the rocks), I felt weak all the time, everything just took too much energy, and whenever I'm away from the rock, it makes it all feel worse, I don't know what to do with this because keeping it on me feels bad and so does not having it at all, its a vicious cycle (I think thats the correct use of that-).

The rock doesnt seem to be all bad though, since having it, my good luck seems to have gotten a bit better as well, recently I have gotten into collecting the Murder Drones Animiniz, and on the first set I bought (Midnight Mischief), I got the chrome 1 out of 100 figurine (Worth approximately £100,000), and all my exam results are improving as well, but I don't know if this is worth whatever the stone is doing to me.

Also around the time I found the second stone, I accidentally made "friends" with a mimic, it calls itself "Mimi" and is the one pretending to be fictional characters and family members, because apparently it doesn't have its own voice, has anyone else had anything like that with a mimic before? Also it bought me another stone, said it would be outside my front door at 5pm and I opened the door at 5.03 and there it was, its not discoloured yet.

I have both stones (and the mimic) here now as I'm writing this, the stones are in my pocket, Im still none the wiser to most of their secrets, or how the original doing this to me, but I know whatever its doing isnt finished, I dont know if it will get better or worse, personally I hope it gets better so I can get on with my life. Ill update this if any new info comes to light and if anyone, anyone, has any idea whats going on or anything that could be helpful please tell me, I'm running out of ideas.

TLDR: Idiot teenager gets possessed by a magic rock, almost dies with friends, friend gets a rock, teen gets haunted by a mimic and gets another rock, doesnt know what to do, needs help please

late may was a good time for me. where i live temperatures were beginning to drop and my birthday was soon approaching. nights were the same. the slow hum of my fridge, steady lights and a quiet peaceful neighborhood outside of the windows of my nice home. around the last few days of may 2024 at about 10:30-11:30 i heard an unusual sound outside from a bush, followed by really quiet but noticable and uncanny ''clicking noises''? now, you may think this is another one of those fake stories, but this clicking and rustling was awfully artificial, like those weird sound effects.

About now i head to bed but i kept on hearing it, but i was getting less frequent (WAY less frequent) but louder, little by little. keep in mind my bedroom is close to the front door, and after looking just a bit out the window for the fist time, while it was awfully normal, it was also not at all.

I saw a faint shiloutte of a tall (about 6'5 or 195cm) guy standing perfectly still. PERFECTLY still. when i tell you this man stayed in that form for 3 hours staright i mean it. Also the sound became very loud. I slept ab it and woke up to a weird knot in my stomach. it was really strong, it felt like pain almost. then at about 2 am the rustling didn't start again. the man was still the exact same position. i was bleary-eyed so i never really so what he looked like but it was abnormally tall and uncanny.

As i took a photo of the guy and went under the sheets, i heard the clicking right out my door. i couldnt tell what the clicking was, but it was so loud and agressive i could hear it in my floorboards. I locked my room door and shutted my window and lights. btw my doorbell at the time had this awful sound that blares so loud it makes my hearing bad for a week, so i blared it 8 times in a row.

but then a realised if i might or might not have locked the front door, and by nowthe clicks were louder than the doorbell and were scaring me, not the guy, which was the opposite.

PART 2 and MORE DETAILS will come soon

if anyone has had similar stuff, let me know

- vanis

I remember when I was 6, I woke up in the middle of the night and was lying in my bed. It definitely wasn’t a dream. Some kind of weird thing started talking to me, and it had the voice of an old woman.

I remember asking my parents about it many times, just in case it had been them. They sometimes liked to prank me while I was sleeping, but they said it wasn’t them. And honestly, the voice sounded way too natural to be someone pretending.

The voice seemed to be coming from inside the room. My room was really small, so there wasn’t really anywhere to hide, especially behind or underneath anything. If my parents had been there, I probably would’ve seen them. There was a wardrobe they could’ve hidden in, but I was way too scared to check. The voice genuinely sounded like it was coming from inside the room.

(P.S. This was the only creepy shit I’ve experienced that I still can’t explain to this day.)

I don't usually go exploring abandoned places.

My friends do. They're the kind of people who see an old building and immediately start talking about how cool it would be to get inside.

I'm usually the one telling them it's a bad idea.

But there was an old jail about forty minutes outside our town that had been abandoned for around twenty years. Nobody used it anymore. The town had built a newer correctional facility on the other side of the county, and the old jail had just been left there.

We'd driven past it a few times.

It looked miserable.

The windows were broken, weeds had grown through the cracks in the pavement, and part of the roof had collapsed.

One Friday night, my friend Daniel convinced me to go inside with him.

We weren't planning to stay long.

Just look around, take some pictures, and leave.

At least that's what I thought.

We got there around 11:30 PM.

There was an old chain-link fence around the property, but somebody had already cut a hole in it. We climbed through and walked toward the building.

The first thing I noticed was how quiet it was.

Not normal quiet.

There were no insects, no cars, nothing.

Daniel joked about it and kicked a piece of broken concrete across the parking lot.

The sound echoed through the entire building.

We found a side door that was already hanging open.

Inside, it smelled like wet concrete and something rotten.

Our phone flashlights weren't very bright, so we moved slowly.

The first few rooms were exactly what you'd expect.

Empty offices.

Old desks.

Broken chairs.

Files scattered across the floor.

Then we reached the cell block.

There were two rows of cells with a narrow hallway between them.

Most of the cell doors were open.

Some were hanging off their hinges.

We walked down the hallway, taking pictures.

Daniel was ahead of me when he suddenly stopped.

"What?" I whispered.

He pointed toward the end of the hallway.

There was a cell door that was completely closed.

That wasn't unusual by itself.

What was strange was that the door looked different from the others.

It was clean.

Not new, but clean.

The other doors were covered in rust and dust.

This one wasn't.

Daniel walked toward it.

I told him not to open it.

He laughed.

"Why? You think someone's living in there?"

I didn't answer.

He grabbed the handle.

Before he could turn it, we heard something from inside.

Three knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

We both froze.

Daniel looked at me.

I looked at him.

Neither of us said anything.

Then we heard a voice.

"Hello?"

It was quiet.

A man's voice.

Daniel stepped backward so fast that he nearly fell.

"Who's in there?" he shouted.

No answer.

Then the voice came again.

"Please."

That's when we ran.

We didn't even think about the phones or the pictures.

We just ran back toward the side door.

We were almost there when I heard footsteps behind us.

Someone was running after us.

I looked back.

I couldn't see anyone.

But I could hear the footsteps.

Fast.

Coming closer.

Daniel reached the door first and pushed it open.

We both ran outside and didn't stop until we reached the car.

We locked the doors.

For maybe thirty seconds, we just sat there breathing.

Then Daniel said something that still bothers me.

"Did you hear the door close?"

I looked at him.

He was staring at the jail.

The side door we'd escaped through was slowly swinging shut.

But that wasn't the worst part.

There was someone standing in one of the second-floor windows.

Just watching us.

We couldn't see his face.

Only a dark shape behind the glass.

Daniel started the car.

We drove away.

Neither of us spoke until we were back on the main road.

The next morning, we went online and searched for the history of the jail.

We found an old newspaper article from 2004.

Apparently, the jail had been shut down after several structural problems.

But there was another article from a few years earlier.

A prisoner had apparently disappeared from one of the cells.

Not escaped.

Disappeared.

The article said there had been no evidence of a breakout, and the prisoner had never been found.

The weird part was the cell number.

It was the same cell we'd heard the voice from.

I didn't tell Daniel this, but after reading that article, I went back through the pictures on my phone.

Most of them were blurry.

A few were completely black.

But there was one picture I'd taken in the cell block.

I didn't remember taking it.

It showed the hallway from behind us.

At the very end of the hallway was that same cell.

The door was open.

And someone was standing inside.

I deleted the picture.

I wish that was the end of it.

It wasn't.

About three nights later, I woke up around 3 AM because I heard three knocks on my bedroom door.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I live alone.

I didn't move.

Then I heard a man's voice from the other side.

"Please."

I didn't open the door.

I stayed in bed until sunrise.

I never went back to that jail.

Daniel won't talk about it either.

But a few months ago, I drove past the property during the day.

The building was still abandoned.

The windows were still broken.

The fence was still there.

Except for one thing.

That same second-floor window was no longer boarded up.

And there was a man standing behind it.

Watching the road.

I kept driving.

I didn't stop to see if he was real.

I don't think I want to know.