Things That Almost Scared The Pee-widdle Out Of You

I used to stay home alone at night while my boyfriend worked. I gradually adopted his schedule, so that I was awake, by myself, all night long, and I heard plenty of scary night noises. (Did I mention this was a trailer out in the middle of bum fuck nowhere? I want to give a big thank-you shout-out to any of you North Florida murderers or rapists for never visiting me). One night, I heard an odd sound. It started abruptly and continued steadily on without a break, a kind of whiny, mechanical sound. I looked around but couldn’t identify it. Now it was louder. I searched the house, but found nothing. The sound grew louder. Now it was very close. It was almost like a machine screaming, but invisible, all around me, and growing louder…CLOSER…LOUDER! Finally my nerve broke and I screamed, hardly able to hear myself. At that moment, the cat strolled in, munching on a giant cicada.

Another time, I was walking in the woods with my husband when he looked at me and said the dreaded words, “Hey! Hold still.” I froze obediently and tried not to imagine what was going on, but as he approached me, his eyes fixed on my shoulder, his hand reaching out to Oh God what is it get it off get it off GET IT OFF!!! My mind dissolved in an utter blitz of panic and I screamed and tore at my clothes for some unknowable time. When I finally managed to catch at a thread of sanity, I halted, trembling miserably. My husband was then able to remove the staticky sock which was clinging to my sweater.

Dung Beetle, your second story made me giggle.

Hey, you have to watch out for those staticky socks. One day they’ll revolt and take over the world. You’ll open the dryer and they’ll leap out all once and cling to you while you spritz them desperately with anti-static Febreeze stuff but it’ll be too late.

I posted this one before:
A friend of mine did this to his wife. Usually she got home from work before him but this one time she was running late. He came home and took a shower (it was the middle of a bad heat wave). Just as he walked into the bedroom to get dressed he heard her pull up. He climbed into the closet, still naked and shut the doors.

He normally got a ride to work so his car was still in the driveway and everything looked normal to her. She came in and she took a shower. She walked into the bedroom naked, opened the closet door. Then she felt someone grab her ankles. She looked down and, according to her later recollection, all she saw was a naked man in her closet. Naturally she started screaming and she pissed herself.

He jumped out of the closet, feeling really shitty about what he did. She thought he was attacking her and ran out of the room, screaming, and headed for the kitchen. He’s chasing her, still yelling he’s sorry. She finally turned around and realized this naked maniac was her husband. She stopped running but still screamed for an additional 5 minutes and then whimpered for another 15.

Many years ago, I worked construction. One VERY hot summer day, I didn’t feel good, the boss was an absolute jerk, I busted my thumb and I forgot to take my lunch.

After I got home, starved, worn out, stinky sweaty, dehydrated and feeling like death would be welcomed, I took a long hot soak in the tub. After the somewhat relaxing soak, I dried off and lay on the bed, spread eagled and naked and tried to ease the monumental tension that still gripped every muscle in my body.

Just as I started to finally relax, I saw a tiny, tiny movement at the top of the bedroom curtains. Suddenly a huge BAT flew out of the curtains and swooped down and across, I swear, within an inch of my bare crotch. I shrieked and levitated at least two feet off the bed and ran into the hall with the bat in hot pursuit.

I ran back the other way and the bat followed me! Twice more I reversed course with the bat still in tow. I finally grabbed my brother’s fishing net which was standing in a corner of the hall and tried to net the evil thing. I netted him so hard that his wigs tore off and there he was thrashing around in the net like a trout.

I hate bats.

These seem to be of a somewhat humorous bent, so I’ll forego the mortar attacks and near-drowning stories.

When I worked as a volunteer cop, we had to go into a furniture store that we found open one night. So we’re creeping the place, and I round the end of a couch and there’s a bad guy standing not more than ten feet away! I start fumbling for my pistol and realize he’s doing the same! Luckily, I realized that I was seeing myself in a dresser mirror before I blew holes in it.

Hey, I saw that scene in Police Academy 2!

I was working at Borders when the Hairspray movie came out, and in the weeks leading up to the release, we were sent an assload of these fans. The one on the left migrated to the cafe somehow, and one of my coworkers had the bright idea of sticking it behind the convection oven to smile at us when we put sandwiches in there.

That was funny, but it wasn’t scary, so I decided another move was in order. You know those swinging doors that kitchens hide behind in restaurants? With the little oval-shaped window in the middle? We had one of those in the cafe, separating the bright, customer-friendly drink preparation and order-taking area from the Dark Abyss of the Employee Hole. Since employees were given to pop into the Employee Hole to do forbidden things like chat on cellphones and suck down nitrous oxide (not me, honest!), managers were equally given to pop back there for a look-see.

So I took the fan on the left and taped it on the other side of the door so that you could just see his eyes and forehead staring out at you from the Light Side. My boss nearly jumped, but laughed it off; and his boss did jump when she saw it later, but she saw the humor in it (which is rare for her, really). Her boss, though, shrieked and very nearly entered orbit, and ordered it to be removed. Sigh…

I have to say CoBa, that if there’s ever a mummy attack, I want The Mother on my side. And cedman that story made me hate bats on your behalf. Not that I didn’t before… :slight_smile:

My own tale dates way back to grade school (about 30 years ago) when my mom still liked horror-related stuff, as long as it was cheap. So one night on a whim, we loaded up a bunch of our softball friends and went in search of The Lady of the Lake (not to be confused with that Og awful movie of a similar name) in our VW van. Well on are first trip, we saw nothing. Same thing for the second time and were only going to be afforded one more attempt.

Unfortunately, that was derailed. By a flat tire, perched atop a place called Flag Pole Hill that was rumored to be the site of devil worshipers. So, being the hardy troopers that we were, we refused to give in to defeat. Our vehicular problem was repaired and off we went back around the lake for a final (desperate) hope of finding said Lady. While all this was going on, the stories flew. About why the damn thing had blown (instead of say, it being time to replace it) and the timing involved (midnight anyone). Plus you had to factor in the satanists somewhere and that made us wonder if we really did see something but just didn’t know it.

Sadly, the speculation didn’t prolong the night and nary ghost appeared. So mom decided it was time to pack it in. The little road we were heading down was a dead-end (cue the ominous music!), so that forced us to make a U-turn. Then, Right At That Very Moment, the street light went out. But not just there! Every single one on the entire road!! Holy shit, did we all come unstuck. We hurried back to the house faster than I thought a Volkswagen would go. Finally, about 2 minutes from there we heard the most ungodly screeching imaginable. Any ideas on what that was? Other than what I thought, which was a gargoyle from that made-for-TV 70s movie.

The “new” tire had an apparent bald spot and just as we rounded a corner, the metal scraped through. The way that thing sounded like a demon, I think one of those cuddly little green ledge sitters would’ve been preferable.

Eventually, we learned of a little known phenomenon called a power outage and our faith in the lack of a scary otherworld returned. I still shudder though.

“And then they got a divorce.”

I used to work in a generation station that was part of a hospital complex.

This premises also had incineration plant and laundry facilities, so that all the heat energy that would normally be wasted could be used to some good purpose.

The result is that there were underground walkways to other parts of the hospital so that stuff could be moved around.

They had planned to build a bigger hospital, so there were a couple of tunnels that had been started and blanked off until the day these new buildings were contructed.

Meantime, were were short of storage space, so our manager suggested that we could use some of these blanked off tunnels to put stuff in, like spare new laundry items.
We had already put a few laundry trolleys down there but without lighting it wasn’t really that much use since you couldn’t tell what was on the trolleys.

No problem, we gave the job of installing all the cable conduit and light fittings to our apprentice, its exactly the sort of thing you do with an apprentice - give him a job where he can’t do too much damage, but he can learn a bit of task management - so it became his baby.

In the meantime, the rest of the maintenance crew dropped various hints about hospitals, and how many people die in them, and maybe this place is haunted - which it reputedly is - We were also careful to mention the history of the place since its a couple hundred years old, and how the site was originally old housing in medieval times.

So we sent our rather wary apprentice down the hole, it’s actually got a lift to go down to it but ‘mysteriously’ this wasn’t working so he had to use the access ladders.

Took him a few hours to get all the kit down there, his bending and setting vice, all his own tools, drills, extension leads, ladders and parts for installation - it’s a good old way to climb up and down umpteen times with all that gear.

Of course we did ensure he could see whilst down there and ensured he had a penlight, powered by a couple of throbbing AA batteries.

One of the older semi-skilled workers decided just a take it a smidgeon further - these are the guys who carry the kit around, upmarket gophers if you like and its pretty normal for them to have a go at ‘edjamacating’ apprentices before they get passed as fully skilled licensed tradesmen.

He bided his time until our hero left the hole for his tea break, then he crept down there and hid in an empty laundry sack - these are quite large things, you can readily stand up inside one and look like some amorphous blob, add in a few moans and groans and you have the very thing!

Twenty minutes later and the apprentice goes back down into the hole, his eyes aren’t quite used to the low light from the penlight torch having just come from a well lit canteen.

Meantime…as the apprentice passes a laundry trolley a large amorphous blob starts moving.

The trouble with laundry bags is that they have a self closing fastening on the drawcord, you can’t open them from the inside, so our ‘ghost’ starts struggling with it, not knowing that the apprentice is down there too.
The ghost is still trying to be as quiet as possible, he doesn’t know he’s being watched and he tries to slide the top of the bag around to where he can reach it more easily.

In doing this, he stumbles but can’t move his feet enough to keep his balance and falls flat on the concrete floor at the apprentices feet, and makes a very genuine groan and loud gasp.

That does it ! This finally finishes off what left of the apprentices’ nerve, an amorphous blob has just attacked him and he runs …
he shot out of the hole, up the ladder and it took the bewildered supervisor along with the works manager to grab him rugby style - they had only come along to inspect progress.

Haven’t seen the film. But it’s a common enough occurrence for cops to see a reflection in a window/mirror/whathaveyou and freak out. The fact that it was dark in the store didn’t help.

In the middle of the night, the noise of the automatic ice maker dropping ice into an empty bin sounds *exactly *like the noise of the wooden blinds rattling when someone opens my back door.

Also, have you ever opened your eyes suddenly in the middle of the night to find your three-year-old child’s face two inches from your nose?

Looks like a Western Diamondback (Crotalus atrox) to me. My story involved snakes, too. In all the years of hiking in the western US, I never saw a rattler, until after I passed it. Even one that I literally brushed with my boot as I went by; never scared me once–and I could have taken a serious hit miles from the nearest road.

One day, while hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail near Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, I saw the same lazily crossing the pathway in front of me from about 50 yards. “Cool,” I thought, “this is first one I’ve seen up close.” It was like watching an overgrown slug about one meter in length, but with a mix of beauty and awe. It stopped for a moment and looked at me, but then continued on as before, like a geratric with a walker.

For reasons I never could never, ever fathom, I spent the rest of the day in total paranoia, stopping every 100-200 feet looking for snakes ahead on the trail. Oh, and turning around every minute or so checking to see if one was following me. :smack: :confused:

I’ve done hikes elsewhere and seen lots of venomous snakes, but never had that episode of queazy paranoia return.

I lived with an Aunt and Uncle for a while; I came in rather late one night and was trying to be as quiet as possible. My Uncle suddenly appeared in the hallway in front of me; he was in what I think is called the combat crouch and he had a 38 revolver in his hands. He was maybe ten to fifteen feet away from me and the gun was pointed straight at my face. To call him a good shot with a hand gun is a gross understatement; he couldn’t have missed me at that range. I told him who I was and I could hear my Aunt imploring him to not shoot. We were at an impasse for maybe one to two of the longest minutes of my life before he lowered his hands, nodded at me, and went back to bed. None of us ever mentioned that little incident in any way. He was a mean bastard under the best of conditions. That was one time when I was really and truly close to death.

One of my scariest moments is also rattlesnake related: my Dearly Beloved Departed Doggie once waded into a thick patch of sagebrush after a rattler. I grabbed him by the collar and he slipped out of it; fueled by endorphin-idiocy, I then jumped into the patch and bent down to try and pick him up (90-lb lab – not a good idea). I somehow wrestled him away from the snake, which I couldn’t see but could hear, and then spent two hours trembling when I thought about how I could have been bitten on the torso or face. Doggie actually got a “dry strike” that resulted in his snout swelling to three times its size.

I had a heart-stopping moment last night. I had just finished watching “Ghost Hunters” (stupid, but a guilty pleasure). It was an episode where one of the investigators claimed that a ghost had plucked his shirt sleeve. I went to the potty in the dark and my kitty, who was standing on the hallway table and invisible, reached out and plucked at my shirt sleeve with his sweet little claw. I screamed like a banshee.

Not many of you will take the time to read about my Deadly Dawn Encounter, and that’s okay (I know you have better things to do), but it scared the living marrow out of me. For a second.

Jodi, that’s one heck of a trousseau, though it goes a long way to explaining why you are not married. :wink:

So there I was, sleeping in my ski box/trailer, in a urban parking lot.

BEEP BEEP BEEP what the fuck BEEP BEEP BEEP oh my god BEEP BEEP BEEP a dumpster truck is going to compact me BEEP BEEP BEEP the box/trailer hatch won’t open BEEP BEEP BEEP i’m going to die BEEP BEEP BEEP.

It was only a dumpster truck making a pick-up beside me, but for half a minute, I was in pure terror, thinking I was about to be compacted.

Holy crap, Ian, that was funny!

And JennShark, your kitty story actually made me giggle. :smiley:

Glad I could elicit a giggle . . . I think my cat watched the show with me and then schemed to scare me with his claw trick.