r/spooky_stories

Video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-deqWNoNqmI&list=PLh8-Yhg_l8UcV6KlSL8WhJHh3GqgV7Vt0&index=2

I'm having a good time writing here, so here's another interesting (scary in an unknown and abysmal kind of way) story.

When I was 22 (2018) I started dating a really sweet guy (let's call him Mark) from Macon Georgia, USA. He was a southern dream, curly hair, played football in his highschool days, loved his momma, and was ROWDY. We were total opposites. I was a shy writer. I loved anything terrifying and spent most of my off time listening to creepy podcasts, scrolling the Books of Horror Facebook page, and haunting bookstores.

Well, Mark wanted to impress me. Mark was closeted and I believe it was our distinct differences that made him like me so much. If any of you guys know about Macon, Ga you know that it's a historic city and all the surrounding towns are little more than forests and old back roads dotted with houses. Well for our fourth or fifth date Mark picked me up in his '03 blue F150 after 11 PM (I was a waiter working closing shift) and drove me up to Forsyth, a little quiet town beside Macon. There was a little dirt road through the woods that had an old wooden bridge (I swear, an honest to God wooden bridge, Headless Horseman style).

The game plan was we were going to park his truck on that wooden bridge, listen to the creek underneath, drink a 12 pack of warm beer and he was going to tell me all his spookiest stories of his time running the hills and forests outside of Macon as he grew up. And maybe, if he was lucky, he'd get some by the end of the night.

He told me about how that bridge was haunted. He said that one time he parked there after a football game, drank himself to sleep in his old truck and woke up to handprints all over the windows. He told me that sometimes you'd hear women screaming out in the woods, but that you couldn't go help them because it was Mountain lions trying to lure you into the woods to eat you (and that some fisherman would tell you there were black Panthers out there too). He told me of the ghost of an old homeless man who'd drowned under that very bridge we were parked on. Told me about Whistlers -Native American legends of some kind of ghast or nature sprite that whistled. The closer the whistle sounded the farther away it was. He didn't know what happened if it got you, but he didn't want to find out (and over my wonderful and short years with Mark I heard them myself. The Whistlers, at least, are very real)

Mark did his job well enough that despite the alcoholic bravery I was spooked. I was shivering even though it was a muggy and humid late spring night. I wanted to go back to his room and laugh it all off with a colder beer and a warmer bed.

Right before we called it a night headlights came down the dirt road towards us. This was NOT a modern bridge (I have pictures of us out there somewhere I'll try to find) no guard rails, and only room for one vehicle at a time. While we prayed it wasn't a cop Mark drove forward and pulled off the shoulder of the road and we let the car pass, still anxious it was a cop (closeted and drinking on the road) we watched the car in the rearview drive over the bridge and disappear. Right as the tension let up and we were laughing it off I saw a light in the rearview and thought the midnight car was returning, but NO.

I have no other way to explain this than we were JUST parked on that single passenger bridge. There was NO ONE (to our knowledge) around and that a total of 4 minutes had passed since pulling off to the shoulder of the road. In the dead center of the bridge -right where we were just parked- was a single log smouldering and blazing on fire.

Half drunk and half terrified and anxious we got out to investigate and it was true. Right where we were parked just a few moments ago was a single rustic log burning. I vividly remember the log had cracks running all over it and the fire was coming from within it. As a southern boy myself I am no stranger to making campfires and I have never seen anything like this in my life and never have again. There were white hot cracks all over the log as it burned from within where there was previously no log, no fire and exactly where we were parked only minutes ago.

Mark toed the log with his boot and told me his folks taught him about Will-O-Wisps, some kind of something that haunted dense forests and used fires and lights to lure victims to God knows what, maybe to drown them, I remember him saying. We looked uneasily at the water, returned to his truck and floored it to his house. Where I assured him he had DEFINITELY impressed and terrified me.

I know this isn't some crazy wild ride of a story, but it's very true. If this gets any traction I'll try to dig up mine and Marks pictures as we spent many summer days on that wooden bridge over the years before he died an unfortunate early death. He died very young, very adventurous, and died right off that road with the wooden bridge. He was a hell of a story teller, because most of his spooky stories were real, or at least he thought they were and you never know what you'll find when you're out in the Appalachian woods after the sun sets.

When I was 8 years old I was living in Mexico at the time with my grandparents. They lived on a ranch a small home with a farmhouse. Located in a small village, a village so small everybody knew each other. This village although rich in atmosphere we didnt have roads, phones, or reliable electricity we didnt even see cars in this village. You can imagine a very humble quiet place. We lived near the middle end of the village that had the main path pass through going up to the mountains. The dirt path had nice plants and wild trees and grassy bushes on the sides so the atmosphere was rich in nature. At the end of the path before it lead up to the mountains there was this giant tree that had giant roots stick out of the ground. Under that tree there was a small house and there lived an old woman all by herself. She lived at the very end of the village we didnt really interact with her since she lived so apart from the community but we did know who she was for sure. Well on a stormy night it happened to be heavy rain after midnight. There was commotion outside the house leading down the path. There was a crowd of people mostly men gathered under the tree on the old lady’s property they were freaking out. Scared saying this was satans baby, I remember I had woken up because it was huge news at the time we hadnt seen anything like what I saw. I remember I approached the crowd surrrounding the old lady. I still remember the rain drops shining through the flashlights. I was with my grandmother and as I made my way through the crowd of people. I could see the old woman sitting on a chair. She was holding what looked like a baby wrapped in sheets, it was crying but not like a normal baby, it was making noise I cant describe, so I went up to the baby and she told me not to look, but I knew i just had too so I did and saw its face. What I saw is the most haunting face I have ever seen in my life! The “baby” had the legs and arms of a pig, It had no neck and a tiny head way too small to be a normal baby. It had big bulging wide eyes and I remember seeing its nose and mouth it was a combination of a snout as well , it looked terrifying.I always think back and wonder why the old lady held it like a baby. I always remember this scene and what I heard. The real story is that it wasnt a baby . The old lady had pigs and one of the pigs gave birth to a deformed piglet that looked like a human baby. Its a very bizarre looking creature called mutant piglet.

Hello everyone, I am new on reddit and I have always wanted to share my stories with people who don't think I am a total loon lol.

I grew up in a little hamlet in southern Ontario. Before my house was built, it was a mink farm. My house was built in 1978, which that may not have been a long time ago but is still cool to know.

In this home both my siblings, my dad and I were all experiencing different things. My brother and sister's beds would shake violently at the same time almost every night. They would report seeing a shadow figure in their rooms etc.. I lived in what used to be the "spare bedroom" its in a very convenient spot across the hall from the bathroom and diagonal from my parents room.

In this room, my parents had heard me speaking to someone in my closet every night, whether I'd be a baby just giggling, or a toddler having a full on conversation with whatever was in there. I would wake up screaming because someone/something was tickling my feet. It ended up being a routine with my parents, they would come in and pick me up, bring me to their bed and I would go back to sleep in the comfort of their arms.

Until I moved rooms. The room right across from my parents room had opened up since my brother went to college and my sister moved into his room in the basement. I got my very own "big girl" room.

Throughout the night I would hear noises from the spare bedroom like; the printer being turned on, closet door opening, bed creaking, things like that. Sure, I had a cat thought that he might be the suspect and that I was just imagining it.

During a storm one night, the power had gone out. Thunder was rumbling, lightning was bright and shining through my blackout curtains. I am still sleeping but suddenly I wake up to me screaming, "MOMMY" while walking in to my closet, the closet doors were shut but I kept running into it and backing up and just continuing. My mom ended up waking up and grabbing me, again I slept in their bed. The lights ended up turning back on afterwards and I can vividly remember seeing a young boy standing at the doorway making the come here motion with his hand.

Around the age of 8 my grandma came for a bit, possibly a weekend and stayed in the spare bedroom. She woke up one morning completely upset with my dad, saying "why did you walk out of the closet and wake me up this morning." My dad, obviously confused and not understanding what she was talking about asked her what she meant. She ended up getting annoyed and started telling us what happened. She saw a man around my father's age, at that time he would have been possibly mid 40's, medium build and had a full head of hair. She stated that he came out of the closet and grabbed her toe to wake her up, she asked why he was bothering her and waking her up so early, he responded that she had to help with yard work (it was the middle of winter.) She told him to leave her alone and let her sleep, the man then went back into the closet. That was the end of that.

I remember when my mom and I were sick and we didn't want to get my father sick since he had to work in the morning so, we slept in the spare bedroom. I woke up to someone tickling my feet and cuddled up next to me, I thought it was my mom. I turned around to face her, there was no one there and my mom was coming out of the bathroom. I asked her why she tickled my feet and she gave me no response and looked at me like I was crazy.

There are many more stories but I don't want to make this too long for my first post. I hope you all enjoyed reading and I will make more posts shortly.

Thankyou,

Anonymous