My creepy story and yours.

Figured it’s been awhile since we had one of these threads, and something appropriate did happen last night. I’m sitting at the computer, trying to stave off sleep, when I get the feeling someone’s behind me. Not just a feeling, a CERTAINTY. There IS someone there. I turn around-nothing. I check all the rooms (ok, the bathroom), check the door’s locked. I’m on the second floor, no one’s getting up here without a ladder. But I was convinced. Didn’t sleep much that night either.

What’s creepy in your life?

I was riding the train home from work around 11 pm. One woman at the far end of the car, one creepy guy, and me. Creepy Guy (youngish, white, a bit disheveled) was staring at me. I mostly ignored him. Just before he got off the train he muttered “I smell death.” I said, “Pardon me?” and he said “You smell like death. You are going to die.” He got off at the next stop.

It was much, much creepier than it sounds. His voice was matter-of-fact with a little of that “keep away from me, Deathbringer” vibe. He sounded like he really knew what he was talking about.

If you live in Salem’s Lot, they don’t need a ladder…:eek:

He’s right. You will die. So will we all someday. So he ain’t wrong, just premature. I assume you were alive when u wrote this entry.

I nominate this post as least relevant ever to the thread it’s posted in.

Do you not agree that a person claiming that they smell (implied: impending) death on you could be seen as creepy? Your pendantic reply does you no favors. The reality of inevitable death is something we all accept. Having a stranger approach you and tell you that you “smell like death” is not anything close to the same thing.

Uh, JJ, I think it was meant to be, like, a sort of joke. You know, a little light heartedness for laffs and such. Sheesh.

Good to see some1 gets sarcasm.

A lot of my posts lately have to do with a “crazy” ex-fiancee of mine… for a long time, I figured I’d become known on this board for being the non-PSXer laserdisc guy, but maybe I’ll become known for having had a seriously screwed-up, dysfunctional relationship. Yay!

Anyway. Dating this woman who had severe mental health issues, She’d been committed to a mental hospital twice already in our relationship, and her parents and I ended up routinely talking to each other about her state of mind, issues that we saw cropping up, etc. Several times I got phone calls letting me know she’d been picked up by police or something. Then there was the biggie phone call. I was asleep, and her dad called. “<name> has… just attempted suicide, and it was a pretty serious attempt. I’m heading over there right now, I’ll call and let you know what’s going on.” And there was nothing I could do. I logged onto a website showing live 911 calls, plugged in her address, and watched little icons representing paramedics and police showing up at her house. Her dad called again. She had ODed on whole bottles of things like Klonopin, Seroquel, lithium, and more (she was on extremely high doses of probably 6 different prescriptions), a bottle of Tylenol, even a bottle of Tums, slit her wrists, then hanged herself in her basement. She had her stomach pumped, then was whisked off to a hospital. I spent Christmas that year watching my girlfriend in a coma. She had severe brain damage, and they weren’t sure if she’d recover. After a couple of weeks, she began to come to, but was in a delirium, shaking and babbling noise. She recognized me, though, and shrieked like a happy baby the first time she was awake and saw me sitting at the end of the bed.

She slowly regained some facility in the weeks following, and began speaking again. I was there late one night, dark had set in, and the room was dim. I was sitting on her bed, holding her hand, talking to her mom when she began pulling me close to whisper something to me.

“Please, get me out of here. I need to go home with you.”
“I can’t, you’re still sick. It’s going to be a while.”
“Then… kill me. Please. Kill me. I need to die.”
“I… I can’t.”
“Then kill me when they release me.”

There was something about the dark, the ambiance of the room, and having my lover begging me to let her die, while her mother sat there completely oblivious… the most chilling feeling I’ve ever had.

If so, I will ammend my post to: I nominate this post as least funny ever, in response to the thread it’s posted in. Better?

It wasn’t funny or clever at all. Do you find it remotely funny or clever?

“One time a creepy guy came up to me in a subway and told me that he smelled death on me, and that I was going to die. It fucking freaked me out!”

“You are going to die! HUR, DUR, DERP!”

Sorry, not funny. Nor clever. IMHO, of course.

Yes, and besides, Jake, you are wrong. The reality of inevitable death is not something we all accept. I fully expect an exception be made in my case.

As for my creepy story – Years ago a girlfriend told me that her new babysitter claimed to be my sister. I explained to gf that my family was all boys – no sister. GF told sitter I had no sisters. She insisted we weren’t blood relatives, but she lived with my family when she was younger, and she was the same age as one of my brothers. Again, I told gf this didn’t happen.

I checked with my brothers and parents. I’m the youngest, so it was possible we had some other kid there prior to my birth or when I was very young and don’t remember. All said there was never any girl in the household. One brother asked me for the name of this woman. Upon hearing her name, he said, “I remember her from school. She’s nuts!”

So I decided to pick up my gf’s child one day so I could meet this person. GF phoned ahead to tell her I was coming & it was ok for me to take the child. When I got to the door, sitter ran up, hugged me, and said, “Don’t you remember me?”

I told her I didn’t, and she told me I was too young to remember her, that she lived with us, missed us all, etc. I got out of there. GF switched sitters.

That is freakin creepy!
This is a good thread… But nothing creepy happens to me :frowning:

Oh, it will…BWAHAHAHAHA!

Here’s a link to some of the earlier threads, just to get the juices going.

You’re going off the deep end over this droll observation that really was (IMO) quite germane to the topic at hand. Is there something about the “smells of death” story that’s got you rattled?

I posted this before, but it’s kind of cool in my opinion. There’s a door at my work that never opens without a security escort. I’ve never personally seen the door open. I was walking past the door, and two people were talking in front of the door. I thought, “wow, it’s a good thing that door never opens, otherwise it would hit those guys.”

Immediately as I finished the thought, the door opened from the inside, and hit the two guys standing there. A very creepy almost dejavu feeling came over me.

Something very creepy happened to my mom when she was a girl.

When she was 10 she was babysitting for the neighbours. The kids were in bed and she was reading when someone knocked on the door. She opened the door and a man was there and asked for the man who lived there, by name. My mom said they were out and would be back soon. He asked if he could wait and my mom was one of these kids who would never say “no” to an adult so she let him in.

He sat on the couch for a while and kept staring at her. She said she started to feel really scared so she told him her mom was next door and would be over soon to check on her and the kids. With that he said he’d leave and come back another day, and left.

When the people got home she told them what had happened and the parents had no idea who it could have been and weren’t expecting anyone.

I think she came very close to having something very bad happen to her.

Yup, sounds like it.

Alright this is really going to turn a lot of folks off me but, ah well. My farm is haunted, much more activity in the beginning years than the later ones, and everywhere from the barns to the fields to the house. Voices, mysterious bangings, friends have spent the night and have said there is something “off” about this house. The thing is though, I feel pretty comfy with the “ghosts spirits woo-woo whatevers” and I haven’t heard a peep in about a year.

Funny thing though, I kinda miss in the mornings one of the ghosties humming behind me as I brushed my teeth.

No I do use electric toothbrushes.

Even as a young sperm, I have dreamed about having a guinea pig room. Before I went on the great mission to fertilize the egg, I would sit around dreaming of having a room of small, furry critters. While all the other sperm practiced swimming to make it first to the egg on the day of the big race, I sat at home dreaming of guinea pigs.
Finally, it was the day of the big race, and I was head to head with another sperm. I thought of all the guinea pigs on the outside world, and how I had to make it, and I pushed through with no training. Nine months later, I was born, still dreaming of guinea pigs.
At the age of five, I discovered I was allergic to the fine, furry critters I adored so. It was not until now, at the age of eighteen, that I realized this has all been a government conspiracy to keep me form the guinea pig room. That is why it is creepy.
Now, I’m sure you’re thinking “why would the government want to keep him from having a guinea pig room?” Well, that is because a room of even only ten guinea pigs has enough swag to destroy the very fabric of the universe.

I had something very chilling happen last week.

A few friends and I were at the beach late at night. There are some docks for small sailboats there, and we were walking along the rocks.

There was a square wooden raft-type thing tied to a sharp, triangular piece of rock. We’d had a few drinks at this point and weren’t really thinking so we all decided it would be fun to go sit on it. It was secure, though I have no idea what it was doing there.

There were 5 of us.

I suddenly just felt this overwhelming feeling of dread. You know that feeling where you just know something bad is going to happen?

I turned to my friend Melissa, and she turned to me. We looked at each other, and she said ‘I think we need to get off this freaking thing.’ I agreed, and we quickly jumped onto some rocks nearby, yelling at the other friends to join us.

Two seconds later, I noticed the raft was drifting away. The rope had come loose, and the raft hit the rocks and sank.

That’s the worst beginning to a final destination movie yet.