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Haunted New Harmony | The Grave Talks Preview

by cnkguy
Haunted New Harmony | The Grave Talks Preview

Once the site of two Utopian societies, New Harmony Indiana today is now a sleepy community home to roughly 800 souls if you only count the living. But that's the thing about New Harmony, you need to count the dead, as they are just as active. 

To listen to part two of our interview, you need to be a Grave Keeper (supporter of the show). You can do this by signing up on our Patreon Page here: http://www.patreon.com/thegravetalks

As a Grave Keeper, for $5 per month you will get:

Access to every episode of our show, AD-FREE – MONTHS BEFORE THEY GO PUBLIC.

Access to every EXCLUSIVE PART 2 episode of our show for Grave Keeper Only!

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The “good feeling” knowing that you are keeping this show alive (It really does feel good!)

Sign up to become a Grave Keeper at http://www.patreon.com/thegravetalks

See more at: http://www.thegravetalks.com/haunted-new-harmony/

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HAUNTED PLACES

, Real Ghost Stories


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The Lockdown

by cnkguy
The Lockdown

Reading Time: 7 minutes

I’m very happy I’m not in school anymore.  I graduated a few years ago, but more and more every day I hear about incidents at school.  On the news, on the internet, on texts my friends send me, all sorts of horror stories.

But the stories online are the ones I’m always finding myself glancing through.  I’ve seen stories online of people relating how their school went into lockdown, and the story ends up being about some hobo who had been living under the school, or some crazy person from down the street who finally snapped one day.  I don’t know if they’re true, but all I know is, our school went into lockdown once.  And I don’t know if even the people at my school know the whole story as to what happened.  I don’t even know if I understand it myself.  It still seems like some sort of fever dream, something that didn’t happen, couldn’t happen.

It was the middle of third period, math.  I had just finished a big test (I found out later I had made a bunch of mistakes, and ended up getting a D, but that’s not really important to the story).  I used the hall pass to go use the bathroom.  Unfortunately, the school bathrooms were all located at the stairwells, and of course, the bathrooms on the first floor, where I was, were closed for repairs.  I had to go up to the second floor, but before I got there, the bell rang.  The bell never rang during class before, but as it did, an announcement came over the PA.

“Students and faculty, we are entering lockdown.  This is not a drill.  Please, all students and faculty follow all school procedures.”

I froze.  I could hear sirens approaching.   I came out of the stairwell, but already the doors in the hallway were closing, and I could hear them locking.  I was alone, and out in the open.

I could go into the bathroom now, but the doors had no locks on them since my freshman year; after some juniors trapped a freshman in the bathroom and duct taped him inside a stall, they removed the ability to lock them at all.  If there was somebody wandering the school, I’d have no chance if I went into there.

I ran down the hall. I could see classrooms turning out their lights and covering the windows.  I couldn’t turn to them for help; all the instructions said to not answer the door.  I had to find someplace safe nearby, before something happened.

I turned a corner, and I saw my chance; the janitor’s closet was open.  Lunch was up next period, so he was probably out setting up tables when the announcement was made.  He wasn’t in there, and it could easily be locked from the inside, so I jumped in and shut off the light.

The only light I saw was from the bottom of the door.  I waited, and the sirens grew closer and eventually stopped.  Time passed, and I wasn’t sure if I was happy that I couldn’t hear anything going on or tense because I had no idea what was happening.

Then I heard footsteps.  Lots of them.  They stopped in the hallway.  It must have been police.  I could hear radios and other assorted noises.  I didn’t think it could be some sort of lone gunman or nutcase, so I listened.

One guy in particular sounded like the one in charge.

“Okay, are we in position?”

Another guy answered.  I didn’t know what his rank was, but clearly he was not in charge of the first guy.

“Yes, sir.  We know the suspect is here in the building.  C team is across the campus, as ordered, and B team is covering the back entrances.  He will not exit the building on our watch.”

The chief responded.  “Good.  Remember, he could look like anyone.  But he must not escape.  It’s my fault he’s here, and it’s my duty to deal with him.”

I couldn’t hear much for awhile.  There was too much movement, too many people all talking to each other to make out anybody from where I sat.  I just waited for a little while.  Maybe it would all just be over soon, and I could leave the closet and go back to class.

Then, that’s when it all happened.  The chief yelled out.

“Hold it!  Put your hands in the air!”

The commotion outside stopped abruptly. A moment later, clothes rustled loudly as what sounded like a large number of guns were drawn.

“Lay down on the ground!  Leave your hands where we can see them!”

It stayed quiet, except for a few of the guns cocking.

“I said down the ground!  Don’t you dare try what I think you’re going to do!  You’re not at the institute anymore!”

I thought I would hear shots go off, back and forth, and eventually somebody saying suspect down.  What I didn’t expect was the scream.

It wasn’t a normal scream.  It wasn’t somebody crying out in terror.  It was like a wounded animal, mixed with the sound of a band-saw hitting concrete.  I’ve never heard anything like it before, and I hope I never hear it again.

Then the guns began to fire.  The horrible scream happened again, and then other screams, and then the sounds of tearing.  I saw the shadows under the door as people moved and fell over, and heard the tell-tale splatter of gore as it soaked the floor.

There was another gunshot, and I nearly yelled out myself when a bullet punched through part of the doorway.  It wasn’t very big, but I put my eye up against it, and I could see a group of people being attacked by somebody.  But something wasn’t right about him.  He looked too long in places, like he’d been stretched in a taffy machine.  He was moving so fast, though, that I couldn’t make anything out, except for him grabbing people and throwing them around like they were nothing. There was blood everywhere.

More gunshots.  The scream happened again.  And again.  I pulled away from the bullet hole and sat back in the closet.  Then the scream began to fade.  I heard a thud, and then more footsteps.  The chief spoke again, but he was breathing heavily, like he had been badly wounded.

“Team A.  He’s down.  I repeat, he’s down.  We need a cleanup, immediately.”

I didn’t move.  I wanted to look again, but as curious as I was, I didn’t really want to see but I heard a lot of commotion for a long time, and then, nothing.  I don’t know how long it was after that, but then the PA announced the lockdown had ended.  I came out of the closet.  I tried not to look, but for all the sounds I had heard, there was not as much sign of a fight as I thought there would be.  Even the blood I had seen in that brief time through the bullet hole had all been removed.

I went back to my class, and just told everyone I had hid in a stall in the bathroom.  People were impressed with my guts for doing it, but if nobody else had heard that scream, I certainly didn’t want to bring it up.

As you might expect, we all went home early that day.  Police and EMT were everywhere, but as far as I could see, nobody was being taken away by either.  My parents came and were so happy that I was all right.  They had been following everything on the news and came as soon as they could.

At home that night, I ate dinner, and waited to see what happened on the news.  The live coverage had ended a long time ago, but when the news came back on at 10:00, I wanted to see everything.

As it started, I saw classes had been canceled for the rest of the week, but then things started to get…weird.  The news talked about a student who they refused to name, how he had come to school armed but had been taken into custody after a short firefight. Stranger still, in the footage of the hallway where the scuffle had taken place, the door of the closest which had been my refuge was totally unscathed. Not so much as a scratch on it, let alone bullet holes. It appeared to have been replaced outright, well before any investigation could have been completed.

I saw pictures of the student, being led away in cuffs.  He didn’t have a mark on him.  He wasn’t even wounded as he was pushed into a police car and driven away.  All I saw was him fighting and yelling.

Even in my glimpses through that bullet hole, I knew that wasn’t the same one I saw.  The clothes were completely different.  The one I had seen had been wearing a black T-shirt and jeans.  The one getting into the police car was wearing a white shirt and shorts.

The news said no one had been hurt despite the gunfire.  But I knew people had been wounded, even killed.  I’d heard them screaming in agony as something vicious had attacked them.

And then there was what that chief guy had said.  Talking about something being his fault.  The institution.  That ‘he’ could look like anyone.

I don’t know what happened that day for certain.  I didn’t see enough, I didn’t hear enough to get the full story.  But, this is what I can tell you.

I know there was no shooter at our school.

I know that someone was arrested that day.  Someone who I didn’t know, who I never heard about ever again.  That’s right, a “shooter” who never made another day’s worth of news.  Just disappeared.  When was the last time that ever happened?

I know that chief guy and his squads were not cops.  I don’t know who they were, but I know cops don’t clean up a crime scene like that.

And no human being has ever screamed like that.  Ever.

But whatever it was that I heard attacking those people, all I know is, it came into that hallway where I was.  I was alone, and if it hadn’t been for that janitor’s closet, I wouldn’t have been safe.

It could have looked like anyone.

Something tells me that squad wouldn’t have helped me either.

It could have looked like anyone.

What was it?  How long had it been in our school?

Had I ever been alone with it and never knew what it was?

Who were those people who had come for it?  Where had it come from?

And, good God, is it really dead?


Credit: The Dead Canary (Chilling Tales for Dark Nights)
If you wish to narrate the story please contact the author by clicking here.
You can find The Dead Canary on Reddit here.

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Forever Behind Bars | EPP 10 Minute Preview

by cnkguy
Forever Behind Bars | EPP 10 Minute Preview

A prison nurse has more run-ins with more deceased patients than the living one night.

Beware of run-away prisoners… More like beware of demonic creatures on the side of the road.

A backpacking bunk spot, which happens to be a former prison gives its guests more than just a good nights sleep.

A staircase in an abandoned war prison seems to lead nowhere, where no end.

If you have a real ghost story or supernatural event to report, please write into our show or call 1-855-853-4802!

If you like the show, please help keep us on the air and support the show by becoming an EPP (Extra Podcast Person). We'll give you a BONUS episode every week as a "Thank You" for your support. Become an EPP here: http://www.ghostpodcast.com/?page_id=118

#ghosts #ghoststories #halloween #horror #paranormal #supernatural #haunting #haunted #demonic #hauntedhouse #cemetery #evp #ghoststory #ghostbusters #unexplained #shadowpeople #investigation #truestory

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, Real Ghost Stories


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I Was Born With Superhuman Abilities

by cnkguy
I Was Born With Superhuman Abilities

I was born with superhuman abilitiesReading Time: 7 minutes

I was never what you would call, “Normal”. My name is Dylan, and from the time I was born I had unmatched strength. My father said he discovered it for the first time when I was three years old. We were wrestling in the living room and I threw him through the drywall. He broke his wrist and had a few marks on him, but he recovered just fine. My parents were always supportive and encouraged me to harness my abilities. I was homeschooled and was never allowed to participate in sports or social events. From an early age they had a strange curriculum for me. I would learn anger management above any other subject, and then practice controlling my strength.

Sometimes I would get frustrated, but it was never really a big deal. I understood there was a reason I couldn’t play sports or interact with other kids my age. Eventually I turned eighteen and was considering a higher education. My parents understood my wants, though they tried their best to talk me out of it. I explained that I was done being kept behind walls and wanted to explore the world… I wish I didn’t.

Before I enrolled in college, I decided to take a trip. I didn’t go anywhere too huge, just right outside my hometown to explore the world. Oh, it was lovely. The sunsets, the warm sand under my feet as I walked through the beaches, conversations with people who weren’t my parents or their friends, all of it was just so nice. What I didn’t know about, however, were bullies. Well, I knew of them. My father had lesson plans dedicated to them and how I could and should defend people from them, while assuring not to deal any physical harm unless somebody’s life was in immediate danger.

Well, one day I was at the mall and had just finished watching a movie at the theater. I was sitting on a small bench just a few feet from the entrance. A few women were walking by and I made eye contact with one of them and we smiled at each other. As they passed, a large group of men were coming from the other direction. They were very enthusiastic to say the least, and all began shouting catcalls. I rolled my eyes and continued listening to their corny pickup lines. I was curious how people interacted and wanted to observe everything I could before I moved across the state. It was clear that the women weren’t interested and tried to make their way past the men and into the theater. That’s when things took a bad turn… The group wouldn’t let them pass and were becoming more aggressive with their pickup lines and attempts to wow them. I heard a woman say in an annoyed tone:

“Okay, stop… We just want to go see our movie.”

I chuckled and felt for the men. One of my father’s lessons was that sometimes in life you will simply get rejected. Whether it’s by a woman who’s not into you; a rejected promotion or job application; a teacher giving you a grade below what you think it’s worth… whomever it may be, sometimes things just wont go your way in life and that’s okay. It’s up to you to control where your day will go from there.

I thought that would be a lesson that everybody was taught, an obvious moral compass; I was wrong. I saw one of the men grab one of the women by her wrist and start to get angry. She yelled for the man to stop but he insisted that she listen to him. I walked over and attempted to breakup the little scene that had been created. He let go of her wrist and spun to face me. He was so incredibly angry and unhinged and I had no clue why. Was it his pride? Was he embarrassed that the women weren’t into him or his friends? I had a problem processing the situation because it seemed to be of such little importance. I apologized if I’d upset him, then explained that him and his friends should just go because these women were clearly going to be late for their movie. He licked his lips and rolled his shoulders in a manner that suggested he was angry enough to become physical with me. Again I had no clue why, but his friends seemed to know something I didn’t because they shouted and encouraged the entire situation. I shrugged and turned to the women, gesturing to the door and explaining that they should just go see their movie.

I turned around to try and defuse the situation, but the man was already bouncing around and holding his hands in front of him as if he thought I was going to try and fight him. All of his friends were holding cell phones and screaming for the man to, and I quote, “Beat my ass”. I turned over to the women to encourage them to go inside once more, and to my surprise majority of them were also recording the situation on their phones. How did that happen? I went from trying to defuse a situation to becoming the center focus of a fight that I wanted no part of. I wasn’t going to go against my parents lifelong teachings the first time I went out in the world, so I did what I think everyone should do in a situation where violence is simply not needed: I turned and began walking away.

I heard his feet scratch the floor and his footsteps patter towards me. I spun around and saw him running at me with his fist held back, readying for a punch. Now, my reflexes have always been a tad bit above the average human, so I watched him come at me and thought about my best move. A full sprint to me, when I apply my full training, looks like a fast paced walk. When he finally reached me, I placed my hands in pockets and closed my eyes. To this man’s credit, he must’ve been an athlete, because I vaguely felt his knuckles make contact with my jaw. I heard the people screaming and cheering, and I looked at the man who’d punched me. I felt an instant regret when I saw him holding his hand. He kept his composure and continued to insult me, but anyone who was there would be able to see that his wrist was clearly broken.

Why? Why didn’t he just walk away? Was this really the world I was kept from? Angry and bitter people who turn to violence and insults over the littlest of things? I wish I could say that the whole thing ended there, but that’d be something I could handle. After the man had punched me, he stumbled back and pulled a gun from his waistband. At this time the group of girls began screaming and sprinted inside the movie theater. His friends screamed at him to put the gun away, but I didn’t think they cared either way because they kept their phones in their hands. I looked him in the eye and pleaded with him, saying:

“Please put the gun away. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

I had no clue that everything people say sounds like a challenge to the outside world. I saw red and blue lights light up the walls around us, and before I knew it the entire place was covered with police cars. The man’s friends ran as soon as they saw the cops approach, but he stayed right where he was, staring at me with malice and holding the barrel of his gun centered with my head. A few officers stepped out of their cars and pulled their weapons out, aiming at the man and demanding that he drop his weapon and get down on his knees. What have I done? I didn’t want any of this to happen.

My father always told me that no matter what happens or who is around, not to judge or make harsh decisions. People are mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends. All I could think at moment was no matter how this ended, the man in front of me was losing a part of his life. If he pulled the trigger, I’d be perfectly fine, but the officers around us would fire at him and he’d lose his life. If on the other hand he surrendered, he’d be going to prison for many years, and if he did have a wife or a son, they’d lose a husband and a father regardless of how this night ended.

“What have you done?”

I asked with remorse. He didn’t say a word, he just stood there thinking about his next move. That’s when I saw it… He was squeezing the trigger. My adrenaline shot up and everything moved in slow motion. I saw smoke and fire explode from the barrel of his gun, and as the bullet left it, I turned to study the police officers. They were also squeezing the triggers of their weapons. I turned back to the man and sprinted towards him. As I made it over to him, I grabbed the bullet from the air and tried to kick him out of the oncoming fire from the officers. When I finally calmed down, I turned to see all of the officers staring at me with dropped jaws. I felt a cold rush come over me and I turned to see if the man was okay.

He was over fifty yards away, on the other side of the plaza. I ran over to him, and picked him up. I began to cry and screamed for the officers to call an ambulance. I refused to give a statement, and the officers didn’t seem to mind. They figured no one would believe the situation anyway. They were all happy that no one was killed and considered the night to be a success. I disagreed… The man lived, but he’d be paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of his life with little motion in his arms. He would be unable to make love, play sports with his children, or even basic tasks without added difficulty. I felt awful, like everything I was taught was just thrown away.

I moved down south and work for a small warehouse. I make a decent living since I have no social life and am able to pick up extra shifts without breaking any kind of a sweat. I still sit awake at night and think back to the moment when I kicked the man. The scariest thing for me is… for a moment, I liked the sound of his ribs breaking on my foot.

 

CREDIT : Alayne Winters.

 

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Creature On The Drive | Haunted, Paranormal, Supernatural

by cnkguy
Creature On The Drive | Haunted, Paranormal, Supernatural

Construction work at a funeral home makes a man think twice about ever setting foot through the doors again.

A student return home from school, finds something much darker taking place at his home than a televised after school special.

A dark and menacing entity emerges from the woods to terrify a young woman on a late-night drive.

Something dark follows a girl and takes over her body when the sun goes down.

If you have a real ghost story or supernatural event to report, please write into our show or call 1-855-853-4802!

If you like the show, please help keep us on the air and support the show by becoming an EPP (Extra Podcast Person). We'll give you a BONUS episode every week as a "Thank You" for your support. Become an EPP here: http://www.ghostpodcast.com/?page_id=118

#ghosts #ghoststories #halloween #horror #paranormal #supernatural #haunting #haunted #demonic #hauntedhouse #cemetery #evp #ghoststory #ghostbusters #unexplained #shadowpeople #investigation #truestory

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HAUNTED PLACES

, Real Ghost Stories


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You Find Yourself in a Tunnel

by cnkguy
You Find Yourself in a Tunnel

find yourself in a tunnelReading Time: 2 minutes

You find yourself in pitch darkness. You don’t entirely know where you are, how you got there, you simply don’t remember. Neither, you thought to yourself at that moment, do you care. Your main priority was just to get out of there.

You start feeling your immediate surroundings for something to grab onto — that nauseating feeling of vertigo from wandering in the dark without any surfaces from which you are able to orientate yourself is getting really unbearable. Your hands made contact with a chilly, wet wall, slightly arched at as you move your arm higher. Involuntarily, you let out a sigh of relief; you finally get a sense of direction, a guide.

“Which way, though?”

“You still have one more choice to make: proceed forward, or take steps back?” it said.

You proceed forward.

The voice has been with you for your whole life, but generally, you don’t pay attention to it. However, now that you have nothing else to pay attention to, it becomes all the more pestering, annoying.

As you walk, still with both hands pressed firmly against the wall, what was initially a mere trickle of water transformed into a raging waterfall, gradually though, perhaps too gradual for you to care. You almost felt like you had to continue walking forward, you feared the presence of uncannily human-like demons approaching from the other direction. Water poured on the floor you stood with a loud thud, yet you felt no impact of it on your heels, not even your foot. For some reason, they were numb to it.

“Life is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” it lamented.

“Oh shut it. Even shadows cannot be cast without light.”

It must have been a few hours by now. Days perhaps? You have completely lost track of time. You have been walking in the same tunnel, with the same limited sensations for what feels like an eternity. You are practically stumbling around aimlessly, lost if not for that water soaked wall. Your only purpose was to find the exit, abandon this already abandoned, rotting and constrained tunnel.

Suddenly, as you round a bend, you see a bright beam of hope, a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Do you really want to do this?”

“I’ve walked this far, what else would I want to do?”

“You have cold blood on your hands.”

“Is it wrong if it belongs to no one else?”

“So you really are just going to step into that abyss?”

“It’s extremely bright from where I can see it.”

“You really don’t care, do you? Do you care for them?”

“Who? The things behind me?”

“Don’t act ignorant! You know more than anyone else who they are, and how much they’ll suffer.”

“I know even more that this is my light.”

“Even shadows cannot be cast without light.”

With that, you took the final step off the top floor of your apartment building.

CREDIT : Pointless Sentience

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