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Our London underground train system has a number of haunted stations. Here are a few examples of the 'Residents'
On one Station a Woman has been seen on a platform. Her outstanding feature is that She has no face.
Late at night on another Station staff have seen a Man sitting on a seat. He appears to be dressed in a Suit made of Paper.
Engineers claim that on a particular stretch of track a Man dressed in old fashioned working clothes and holding
an Oil Lamp has been seen and when someone tries to speak to him he disappears.
On one Station a Woman has been seen on a platform. Her outstanding feature is that She has no face.
Late at night on another Station staff have seen a Man sitting on a seat. He appears to be dressed in a Suit made of Paper.
Engineers claim that on a particular stretch of track a Man dressed in old fashioned working clothes and holding
an Oil Lamp has been seen and when someone tries to speak to him he disappears.
D
one night when I was 10 I went downstairs to are laundry room to drop of my dirty clothes.
as I got to the door of the laundry room I saw a man in an orange shirt and blue jeans.
standing with his back to me. I froze. Then he slowly turned around until he was facing me.
he stared right into my eyes. It was like he was looking into my soul.
After what felt like hours when it was only about a min. or two.
Then he turned and walked around the corner. I was curious so I went in and looked around the corner.
and he was gone. I had goose bumps. I dropped my dirty clothes turned and ran upstairs.
as I got to the door of the laundry room I saw a man in an orange shirt and blue jeans.
standing with his back to me. I froze. Then he slowly turned around until he was facing me.
he stared right into my eyes. It was like he was looking into my soul.
After what felt like hours when it was only about a min. or two.
Then he turned and walked around the corner. I was curious so I went in and looked around the corner.
and he was gone. I had goose bumps. I dropped my dirty clothes turned and ran upstairs.
D
How about a real ghost story?
200+ years ago, there was a Russian artist head to America on a ship. The ship crashed off the shores of Virginia, but the artist survived. (No idea what happened with the rest of the people on the ship. This is just intro to the Russian artist.)
He settled near Charlottesville and made money painting. He also became friends with the tall redhead at Monticello, Thomas Jefferson. He settled on some land, and built his house as he could afford it -- one room at a time. But given his artistic leanings, he also made it in the shape of a honeycomb. By the time he was done, there were six rooms, each one only reachable by walking outside and going into that particular room's door. He died there and rumor has it, he never left the house.
Fast forward to 1972, and Little Lynnie (the name I give my younger self, although I was 15 and my full height then) went to a party there with my older brother and cousins, who were friends with the boy who lived in the artist's bedroom. The room still had all the artist's furniture. A 200+ year old full-sized bed, (horsehair mattress, so quite likely the original) a couple of chairs, a fairly inconspicuous desk, and a rocker by the fireplace. Even the anvil and tools for the fireplace were original.
Let's just say some illegal substance was smoked before the story came out. (Little Lynnie wouldn't be saved for a few more weeks.)
The guy who lived in that room was about 17, and he told us three stories about his ghost:
1. The ghost liked his furniture just where it was. If the guy, (and I'm not telling names, because he had a uniquely southern name and this is a public site, so I might well be protecting the guilty lol), moved the furniture around, he'd go to sleep and the next morning the furniture was back where it belonged.
2. Sometimes, after getting stoned, (and this is back in the days when pot did NOT make you trip, so it was just stoned, not hallucinating), he would catch a glimpse of the ghost up in the corner of his room. But, when he looked up there it was gone.
3. The rocker was in front of the fireplace. If you sat in the rocker, you could find out if the ghost liked you or not. If he liked you, you'd feel warm and comfortable. (Huge big fire going on, so wouldn't you naturally feel warm and comfortable there? It was winter time, and the floor was slate, so it really needed that fireplace for heat in that room. No modern heaters in that house.) If it did not, you'd feel a chill throughout your body, like a ghost was filling you. (If you buy there is a ghost and then sit on that chair, isn't it equally as likely that you would get that chill?)
I did not have the guts to check it out. My brother did. My brother felt warm and comfortable.
Yeah. Really. Real ghost story. Sorry, can't tell you if it was a real ghost or if the guy was pulling our leg. lol
Best ghost story I ever heard though, because it really was a 200 year old house of a Russian painter who was friends with Jefferson.
200+ years ago, there was a Russian artist head to America on a ship. The ship crashed off the shores of Virginia, but the artist survived. (No idea what happened with the rest of the people on the ship. This is just intro to the Russian artist.)
He settled near Charlottesville and made money painting. He also became friends with the tall redhead at Monticello, Thomas Jefferson. He settled on some land, and built his house as he could afford it -- one room at a time. But given his artistic leanings, he also made it in the shape of a honeycomb. By the time he was done, there were six rooms, each one only reachable by walking outside and going into that particular room's door. He died there and rumor has it, he never left the house.
Fast forward to 1972, and Little Lynnie (the name I give my younger self, although I was 15 and my full height then) went to a party there with my older brother and cousins, who were friends with the boy who lived in the artist's bedroom. The room still had all the artist's furniture. A 200+ year old full-sized bed, (horsehair mattress, so quite likely the original) a couple of chairs, a fairly inconspicuous desk, and a rocker by the fireplace. Even the anvil and tools for the fireplace were original.
Let's just say some illegal substance was smoked before the story came out. (Little Lynnie wouldn't be saved for a few more weeks.)
The guy who lived in that room was about 17, and he told us three stories about his ghost:
1. The ghost liked his furniture just where it was. If the guy, (and I'm not telling names, because he had a uniquely southern name and this is a public site, so I might well be protecting the guilty lol), moved the furniture around, he'd go to sleep and the next morning the furniture was back where it belonged.
2. Sometimes, after getting stoned, (and this is back in the days when pot did NOT make you trip, so it was just stoned, not hallucinating), he would catch a glimpse of the ghost up in the corner of his room. But, when he looked up there it was gone.
3. The rocker was in front of the fireplace. If you sat in the rocker, you could find out if the ghost liked you or not. If he liked you, you'd feel warm and comfortable. (Huge big fire going on, so wouldn't you naturally feel warm and comfortable there? It was winter time, and the floor was slate, so it really needed that fireplace for heat in that room. No modern heaters in that house.) If it did not, you'd feel a chill throughout your body, like a ghost was filling you. (If you buy there is a ghost and then sit on that chair, isn't it equally as likely that you would get that chill?)
I did not have the guts to check it out. My brother did. My brother felt warm and comfortable.
Yeah. Really. Real ghost story. Sorry, can't tell you if it was a real ghost or if the guy was pulling our leg. lol
Best ghost story I ever heard though, because it really was a 200 year old house of a Russian painter who was friends with Jefferson.
Good question. I don't know but I will give you the full story as You ask
Firstly both myself and my wife are known as Chris being called Christine and Christopher, (No I wasn't Christened Tanakh) It started when we were stepping out our front door one morning and we both heard a female voice call 'Chris'. Neither of us recognized the voice We looked down our street and there was no one there. We thought this was rather odd as you would but thought no more about it. A few days later I was alone in our yard with my back door open. My wife had gone out and I heard a voice coming from inside saying are you there? The voice sounded exactly like my wife and I thought she had come back for something. I went inside expecting to see her but she wasn't there. I went back outside and then about an hour later the same thing happened again. About two days later I was alone in the flat again watching TV. Suddenly I heard three loud raps on our window. I rushed up and opened the front door and there was no one there. We live on the ground floor and there was no way anyone could have hidden or made off in the seconds it took me to get outside. That was the last of these incidents and nothing has happened since.
Firstly both myself and my wife are known as Chris being called Christine and Christopher, (No I wasn't Christened Tanakh) It started when we were stepping out our front door one morning and we both heard a female voice call 'Chris'. Neither of us recognized the voice We looked down our street and there was no one there. We thought this was rather odd as you would but thought no more about it. A few days later I was alone in our yard with my back door open. My wife had gone out and I heard a voice coming from inside saying are you there? The voice sounded exactly like my wife and I thought she had come back for something. I went inside expecting to see her but she wasn't there. I went back outside and then about an hour later the same thing happened again. About two days later I was alone in the flat again watching TV. Suddenly I heard three loud raps on our window. I rushed up and opened the front door and there was no one there. We live on the ground floor and there was no way anyone could have hidden or made off in the seconds it took me to get outside. That was the last of these incidents and nothing has happened since.
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