#paranormalstoriess

[new-author-daniel-plivori]

I highly recommend this author if you enjoy paranormal or scary stories. I have read "They Come Iut at Night" "Human Flesh" and "Blind Date" all written by this author. I honestly could not put my book down. #nickclausen #danishauthor #recommend #recommended #danishwriter #danishwriters #danishauthors #paranormal #paranormalstoriess #paranormalstories #paranormalstory #scarystory #scarystories https://www.instagram.com/p/B0yXOuwA3-I/?igshid=6wk5xuf9t5ns

[unsettlingstories]

Do you accept submissions?

I’m sorry, but this blog is only for my own work. There are lots of good content aggregators, though, like @sixpenceee, @paranormalstoriess, @areyou-stillawake, @fifteenhours-creepystories, and many others. Try them out :)

[paranormalstoriess]

The Choice

As early on as she could remember, the question had plagued her. A shy, withdrawn type, always quietly reflecting, looking inward, she couldn’t remember how she had first come across the scenario, or why it never quite left her mind, in its many permutations. Sometimes it took the form of a masked gunman, requiring her to pick who she loved most. Sometimes it was their car careening into the lake, and she only had time to pull one of them out the window, out of the water, toward freedom. She had come up with a million different versions all forcing her to answer the same question: if she had to choose one to live and one to die between her mom and dad, which was which?

As emotional as the question necessarily was, she had done all the cold calculations in her mind. Her father was a rational and generous provider, but distant, sometimes bordering on uncaring. A life with him as the sole parent would be lonely, but comfortable. She was, as many children are, closer with her mother, a warm and lighthearted free spirit. But the woman was absentminded, notorious for being unable to hold down a job, and often impulsive. Having her as the lone adult in charge would be challenging, more akin to living with a sister than a single mom.

Her answer to the question had shifted over the years, but had consistently been completely self-centered—not surprising for a child to place herself at the center of her own worldview.

Which is why, these many years later, as they sat all three of them at the usually tranquil lakehouse, the moans and screams ever louder as the horde slowly closed in, she was having such difficulty determining the answer in this now-real scenario. It was one she had unfortunately never considered.

Two bullets left in the gun. A quick—and if her aim was true—relatively painless flash of a death for two of them. And the other left behind to suffer that terrible cold and final, neverending fate shuffling toward them, certain to overtake them, not a matter of how, but how soon.

Two bullets. Two to die and one to live. Which was which?

original

[beevomitbooboo-extra-blog]

For those into horror, an unappreciated blog is paranormalstoriess which has slightly less popular creepypasta which you may not have seen before. As an example Sixpenceee just posted a story which I had seen a week before on paranormalstoriess, would recommend.

[cannibalistic-nun-blog]

hey i was wondering why you stopped posting on your paranormal stories blog??

Hey! I hope you’re having a nice day :) I’m sorry for responding late - I rarely check my messages on here because they’re 90% spam 

I have had mental health issues for a while now, and when my blog was discovered by my family they began using it against me as a sign that I am “disturbed” (even though I only have depression and have never been categorized as anything even remotely violent/aggressive, I just have an interest in the paranormal/creative writing.) They also were using it to start arguments - “you never do anything but post on that blog”, “you’re never going to get into college when admissions finds your blog”, etc. In addition, I sometimes got hate on my blog which is hard to deal with when you have severe depression. I loved that blog, but it got to be too many negatives and too little positives. Eventually I will take it down, but I’m clinging to the possibility that I will start another blog, perhaps one that’s private, where I can post similar things. If that were to happen, I would link to the new blog either on my old one or on here. 

Thank you for your interest in my blog! Remember you can always check out the archive if you’re missing the posts, and reddit.com/nosleep has awesome paranormal stories :) 

[chaos-apeshit]

I am not a safe blog

Welcome nobody

Get out.

[spooky-nerdo]

Once you get this you have to say 5 things you like about yourself, publicly, then send to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable) Have a great day

(AGH OMG I LOVE UR BLOG THANK YOU) 

1.i have hella cool hair (its purple now)

2. im ambidextrous so i can write with both hands so i guess thats p nice 

3. i never like things but when i do i get REALLY passionate 

4. im the best at video game trivia and i mean the FUCKIN BEST (FIGHT ME IRL) 

5. i survived a really rough time, and im so proud of myself 

so uh yeah those are the things i like about myself haha im hella lame but im still the best :) 

[paranormalstoriess]

33 Driver's Licenses

I found it while playing hide-and-seek. I hid in the makeshift closet my dad built in the garage, and after I had sat there for about fifteen minutes, curiosity got the best of me. I found it in the bottom of an old toolbox, covered with random crap.

It was a simple box, made of wood and painted black. There was a lock on it, but in his haste to return it the last time he had used it, my dad had apparently forgotten to push the lock all the way closed, so I was easily able to open it.

Driver’s licenses, all of pretty young girls, from a variety of states. That’s all it was. I quickly googled a few of the names. All missing.

I scrambled through the box, counting the driver’s licenses, and I had finally stopped at 33, when I found a white envelope at the bottom. Inside were 33 pictures, clearly printed on our own crappy printer upstairs in family room, and as soon as I saw each photo, I knew that those 33 missing girls would never be found, certainly not alive and in many cases, not in less than three or four pieces.

I replaced the photos and the licenses exactly as I had found them. I put the lock back, only half-on, just like it was, and I replaced it as neatly as I could. I told my little sister to tell my friends that I had decided to stop playing hide-and-seek, and I went inside. Before I went into the house, I found a box of rat poison in the garage.

Over the next three weeks, I put a little bit in his food. When Mom had to work a night shift at the hospital and I was responsible for cooking dinner, I made sure to put even more in his food. I even put baking soda in my and my sister’s food, so she would complain that it tasted bad, and I would assure everyone that I was just a terrible cook. Dad, to his credit, ate every bite. I also kept checking the box and looking at those poor 33 girls to encourage me to keep it up. It didn’t seem like he had even gone back to it, which was good for me, because I feared he would know I had found it.

Mom and my little sis were sad when he died. I put on a good face, too, crying, but I wasn’t crying for him. I was crying for all of those poor girls.

A few month later, I finally decided to get rid of the evidence. I was going to send the photos and the driver’s licenses to a police station in a different state so their families could have some peace of mind.

Instead, I ended up sitting in the garage, screaming hysterically, when I realized that instead of 33, there were now 35 sets of licenses and photos.

original

[paranormalstoriess]

Police & Fire dispatcher here, finally wanted to write my story

I've been working as a police and fire dispatcher, or a 911 operator, for about a year at one of the local PSAP's in my state when this happened. We dispatch police, fire, and EMS for about six agencies total. About six miles east of our location (inside the main agency we dispatch for) is the airport, and about twenty miles south east is the air force base. It's one of the larger bases in the country and has been known for some of those strange conspiracy theories and such. Our dispatch center is also the coordinator of NCRZ (Northern County Rescue Zone) which is responsible for any serious rescue or mass-casualty emergencies in the northern half of the county. An NCRZ response has never been launched since I've been working there, but I guess once there was a pretty serious bridge collapse. It's a load of work to put up with, it involves nearly all of the fire and rescue agencies in the northern part of the county. And they'd all be on our channel...

I don't really think much about what happened anymore, but I have told a few friends. But it is a good story over beer or a campfire. I figured maybe more people would like to hear it.

I was just moved to third shift, and have only been working it for maybe three weeks. I was also nineteen at the time. At 3 AM our second dispatcher leaves and we run with one person on one console. So, I got pretty use to working alone. Sure, normally it was quiet, but it wasn't bad at all. I could study, do homework, have some time to myself or read. I was starting to like it. Plus I'm sort of a night owl. There would be the occasional domestics, some bad injury accidents along the interstate, robberies, and things like that. But mostly it was quiet.

It was between 3:30 and 4:00 in the morning, so the other dispatcher just left. I was studying for one of my psychology classes when a call came in on the non-emergency line. I answered like normal,

"Police and fire dispatch."

A lady talked, "Hey it's Norwich Airport... we got a call from the base in reference to a plane crash that occurred somewhere in the area. They weren't able to provide any further details but I just wanted to let you know, we could end up getting dragged into this."

"Okay... I'll keep that in mind. No further information at all? Where it crashed or what kind of plane it was?"

"Nope. That's all the air force base told me. They told me to contact you as well, and they'd get back to us if they had any other information or needed us."

"Alrighty then, thanks."

We said bye and hung up. I was beginning to think this could very well turn out to be a not-so-normal shift. I thought it was kind of strange the base didn't directly call us individually, though. I decided to go ahead and give station 77 and 76 a call to let them know about the situation, in case they were needed to go out on something. I thought I was feeling anxious sitting there, thinking I would have to dispatch on a plane crash. I was trying to imagine what it would be like for the crews themselves, the men and women having to gear up and grab their engines, ladders, and medics to respond to a plane crash.

So I just sort of waited. It wasn't long, a little under ten minutes later and the phone rang again.

"Police and fire dispatch."

"Hey it's Norwich Airport." It was the same lady, "The base did say that they confirmed down commercial aircraft. They said it was south of the dam on U.S. 40, they should be giving you a call shortly."

"Okay... thanks. Can I have your name by the way?"

"Dispatcher Boyer here at Norwich."

"Okay thanks, bye."

Things just felt really strange, and I had a weird feeling about all of this. But she wasn't lying. A few minutes later I get a call from the air force base.

"Police and fire dispatch."

It was a man this time. "It's _______ Air Force Base. I'm assuming Norwich already talked to you, but we do have a down aircraft south of U.S. 40 in the woods and will need your help."

"Okay, do you have a better location than just that? What kind of aircraft and what are you looking for? What do you need from me?"

"It's just a few miles south of U.S. 40, it's military aircraft and was occupied by over two dozen. We're actually looking for a NCRZ response."

"Okay that's clear, yeah I can do that if you need. I have to call the fire chief and get approval first. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

"Okay, great. Thanks."

I was pretty sure Norwich told me it was commercial aircraft? I even replayed the call and sure enough they said it was a commercial plane crash, not a military one. Weird. I decided not to worry about it too much. I called the chief and assistant chief (head of NCRZ) and they gave me approval to initiate a response. Before launching the response and putting things in motion the chief wanted me to check one last time with the air force base, to get any other details that I might need. I really couldn't believe it, I was dispatching on a plane crash. I was nervous because I knew I'd have my hands full for the rest of the shift, and things like routine medic calls or suspicious persons complaints would become a major pain. But I was excited, it was something I know I probably wouldn't ever do again. Word got around, and by this time I had practically five entire fire stations waiting to go out on this airplane crash. I went ahead and gave the base a call.

The same man answered, "______ Air Force Base."

"Hey it's _____ dispatch, our supervisors confirmed NCRZ. Any other details on the crash before I send it out?"

"What crash?" It was an almost immediate response.

I awkwardly paused. "Uh, the plane crash?"

"What plane crash?"

"The plane crash south of 40, I literally just talked to you like six minutes ago."

"What plane crash?"

"The plane crash south of U.S. 40, you wanted me to launch an NCRZ response."

"We don't have any plane crashes, I'm sorry but I don't know what to tell you."

"Can I speak to a supervisor?"

I was put on hold for maybe a minute when someone finally picked up. It was a different man, and I explained myself. However I got the same answer.

"What plane crash? We don't have any reports of a plane crash in the area."

By now I was frustrated, thinking I was fooled or going crazy. I said "thanks bye" and hung up. I also decided to give Norwich a call back. I could tell it was dispatcher Boyer, the same lady I talked to when all of this began.

"Dispatch", she answered.

"Hey, it's _____ I just got done talking to the base and they're telling me apparently there isn't a plane crash now. Do you know what's going on?"

She paused, and her tone changed. "What plane crash?"

She answered like a robot. I wanted to explode. At this point I pretty much yelled at her through the phone, "You called me probably about a half hour ago, you told me about the plane that went down in the area and _____ Air Force Base wanted us to respond! They asked me to start NCRZ and I woke people up at four in the morning for this. I have crews awake and sitting at multiple stations ready to be dispatched to a plane crash. I talked to you twice on the phone before. Are you serious right now?"

"Sir I really don't understand, what plane crash are you talking about?"

I hung up. I was frustrated and tired. I immediately told the chief and had the tapes pulled, because I was not going to be responsible for making a big mistake. Not one involving a fucking plane crash, at least. They were just as confused as I was, and would end up geting the same answers from the base and the airport.

At first I got the impression that maybe they were joking with me. But I honestly just don't see that happening, not from an airport or a base that belongs to the United States Air Force. I checked names and phone numbers, and they were all authentic and belonged to who they were suppose to. I just have a really weird feeling in my gut that something strange happened that night. Someone in the military obviously told Norwich to keep their mouths shut. They managed to do it pretty quickly, too. I was relieved to not have to go through the lengthy process of NCRZ and managing a rescue response that huge. It's a handful. The rest of the shift was uneventful. For the next few weeks I talked to my friends about it and couldn't get it out of my head.

It's still something that I think about every once in a while, and I just remember the monotonous straight-forward answer I was getting: what plane crash?

original

[paranormalstoriess]

A Vietnamese Ghost Story

As told to me by my mother:

After the war ended, many wives were waiting for their husbands to come home from the fighting. One day after many years, one of the soldiers returned to his wife and home on a small rural farm in Vietnam. The wife was understandably relieved and happy her husband was alive and well. She ran up the road as he was approaching and embraced him, crying tears of joy.

But the husband, seemingly unmoved by her tears, only said: "Wife, make me food."

His manner was a little strange and his voice seemed a little off, but he was her dear husband who just returned from the war when so many had died. She was so happy to have him back that she didn't care and prepared him a meal. The husband ate and immediately went to bed right after. He slept through the rest of the day and only woke at night to say to his wife:

"Wife, make me food."

Again, the wife was still so overjoyed about having her husband back after a long absence that she complied. This continued the next day. And the day after that. The husband would wake up, tell the wife to prepare him food, eat and then go back to sleep the whole day. Days began to turn into weeks.

The wife worked all day to maintain the farm but as the couple was poor in the first place and now all the husband did was eat and sleep, she was running out of food for them both. She noticed that her husband's voice sounded deeper, as if not his own, and he was not behaving like his usual self. The wife began to become frightened and desperate.

She called upon the local Catholic priest for help. He came and observed the husband, finally saying to the wife: "This man is not your husband. Some spirit has taken posession of his body."

The wife screamed out in shock and fear but the only thing to do was to exorcise the spirit or whatever it was inside her husband. The priest waited until nightfall when the husband usually woke up to demand food from his wife:

"Wife, make me food."

But instead of his wife there stood the priest. The priest quickly peformed the exorcism ritual and the husband fell to the ground, the body decomposing rapidly to nothing but dust. The husband was long dead. The spirit must have found his body and used it to live a semblance of a life. The wife was lucky it was not a malevolent spirit or demon that wanted to do her harm.

My mother told me that stories like this were common after the war. That some of the soldiers who returned were not the same ones who left loved ones behind. You had to watch closely for tell-tale signs of spirit posession such as a deeper voice that doesn't belong to the person or that he or she just wants to keep eating, two things my mother and I both noticed that many Vietnamese ghost stories have in common.

original

[insidiouslyadorable]

Intricate Crop Circles

[paranormalstoriess]

Hey guys! I was thinking of doing a contest sort of thing! How about you add a caption/short story to this picture and I'll reblog the best ones? Tag them paranormalstoriess! I can't wait to see what you come up with!