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The Smilers – Part 2

I took the advice of several commenters and went to the hotel to stay with my wife and daughter. I will admit that I let bravado and machismo fog my view of what is truly important. That being said, I am extremely grateful to you guys for pushing me to go to the hotel, because it was in fact unsafe. My question now, though, is what if these things are following one of us in particular? Anyways, I snapped out of my nerve-induced show of resilience and decided to go back to the hotel. It started during my drive. From my neighborhood, I can essentially take side streets the entire way to the back of the hotel, with the main street being on the other side of the building. As I drove down the street, each street light I passed went out. One by one. The darkness behind me seemed to envelope everything else, even in the moonlight. I sped up, but the darkness caught up to me. I began seeing people walking from the sidewalk towards the middle of the street, in that horrible, albeit ridiculous flail. This just told me that whatever was going on was not limited to my house. These things walked in the street and waved as I drove by, dodging me as I swerved towards them. I reached the hotel, but realized I still needed to pick up the highly recommended high powered flashlights. […]

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The Smilers

This started with my child. She was the first to see them. I feel bad for her; she was the first one to experience the terror my wife and I would soon feel for ourselves. It began about a week ago, and I don’t know what to do. Me, my wife Kimmy, and our 6-year-old daughter Anna live in a modest 4 bedroom house, in a place where we are victim to semi-regular blackouts. Only lasting for a minute or two most of the time, they are more of a minor inconvenience than a true problem. We’ve been dealing with them for close to three years now, and have learned to live with them. On the plus side, being subject to somewhat frequent blackouts has afforded us a relatively cheap mortgage. But that’s neither here nor there. As I said, this began about a week ago. Anna came into our bedroom at about 1:30 in the morning and nudged me awake. I had to look at my phone to see the time, because the clock on my nightstand read a steadily blinking 12:00. We must have had a blackout. “What’s wrong sweetie?” I asked, my comforting tone thankfully overpowering the irritation in my voice due to being woken up. “There’s a man outside and he won’t stop looking in my window.” My heart sank into my stomach, and I jumped out of bed, telling my daughter to stay with mommy. […]

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The Fun House

I’m just going to say right away, that I have no answers for anyone. I don’t know what happened to me. I’m still having trouble accepting that it did indeed take place. There’s evidence of it happening with the marks on my body, and the clear, vivid memory of the events. But alas, this is what went on at a place apparently called “The Fun House.” I woke up in a room lit by nothing but the moonlight spilling inside through the windows. I was sprawled out on the hardwood floor of what looked like a living room. When I woke up, I was flat on my stomach, and upon lifting my head and observing my surroundings,I noticed a thick, palpable layer of dust on the floor, and in turn on the side of my face. I stood up, finding myself to be barefoot. I was in the middle of a set of dust-covered furniture. One long couch, a loveseat, and a big chair with an ottoman, all fixated to make the as-of-now fireplace the center of attention. This house was literally what nightmares are made of. The furniture was all dated at least 60-70 years, as were the black and white and sepia-toned pictures that lined the walls. Every movement created a seemingly amplified creaking sound that filled the entire house. The air inside the abode was damp and heavy, and made it feel like gravity was working overtime. […]

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I’ve worked in a cemetery/crematorium for years, and I have some things to share

I work at a funeral home/cemetery/crematorium combination in the Midwest. I got into the job when I was 16 years old, and started by cutting the grass one summer while waiting for school to start back up. My plan was to work there until college. College didn’t really work out, but the couple that owned the funeral home and therefore ran the cemetery seemed to take a liking to me, so they offered me full time employment. This in turn gave me more responsibility, such as digging graves, arranging burial plots the night before a funeral, general office work, and in recent years, preparing bodies for funerals, crematorium duties, and night security on some occasions. This job has, without a doubt, changed me from a skeptic to a full-fledged believer in the paranormal. The owners who hired me are an older couple who run it with their children, and they warned me when I started taking on more responsibilities that I would more than likely see some things that scared me, and that would be unexplainable. They were right. But they also assured me that as long as I watched my step, I wouldn’t be in any danger, and for the most part, they were right. Even so, though, there have been plenty of times that I’ve seriously considered quitting. I just thought you guys might enjoy some of the weird shit I’ve seen around the cemetery. _____ I suppose […]

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