Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Problem with Coding

Hi all. It's been brought ot our attention that there is a problem with coding. Some of you viewing the page see a lot of jibberish at the top of the page, and some of you don't. We don't know much about coding, so we're not sure if we're can fix it anytime soon. However, we do know that if you view the page with Internet Explorer that the site is clean, so I'd reccomend taking that road, until we figure out how to fix the problem. Thanks for your patience and continued support.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Trust Your Instincts; or In New York City


First off, a short bio: I'm 20, male and live in NYC. Living in NYC, you learn to be on your guard every time you happen down a dark street. You do that or you learn your lesson soon enough.


This story happened a few weeks ago. Not sure of a specific date. Right before the Christmas holiday. Anyway, I live in New York City with my wife and two other roommates. There are four of us all together. I usually stay out later that everyone else because I have late classes and meetings, things like that.


One evening, I was walking to my apartment building, which is located in The Village. I entered the building and noticed a guy was walking in the door behind me. I didn't pay any attention to him, because the streets were busy that night. It could have been anyone that lived there. I live on the sixth floor, so there's no possible way I can know everyone that lives on every floor in every room.


I had an uneasy feeling as soon as I saw the guy. He was about 6'1", broad-shouldered, and he was wearing casual clothing. I had made the mistake of carrying my laptop with me that night, so anyone who saw it instantly thought I was wealthy or something (I'm not in the slightest).


I decided to take the stairs and the guy followed me. I pretended like I was on my cell phone and got off on the fourth floor. (I have a friend on the fourth floor and I didn't want the guy knowing where I lived.) He continued to follow me and I went to my friend's door and pretended like I had lost my key. I turned around and the guy was watching me. I politely asked him if he needed anything, and he walked away, back into the stairwell.


After that, my friend opened the door and he let me inside. I stayed there for a few minutes and told him about the guy that had followed me, etc. (Not to mention, my friend was slightly irritated that I had led the man here.) But, eventually I left and went back to my floor. I walked into my apartment, threw my laptop case down, and locked the door, just as someone knocked. I asked who it was, and I was answered by another knock. We have one of the doors that has the chain-style lock, and a deadbolt. I slid the chain into place and looked out, and it was the same guy that was on the fourth floor. He attempted to force the door open, but I managed to get it shut. And I called the cops immediately.


Unfortunately, that guy was never caught. But, living in NYC, that's only ONE of several occurrences that has taken place. Just a fair warning: Be careful and trust your gut feeling!
-Jaden

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Followed in Canada



I live in the northern United States, the top of Indiana, very close to Michigan. I love to camp and hike. Spring of 2010 I decided to go up to Canada and do some solo backpacking near the Lake Superior Provincial Park in Ontario. I'd never been out of the US before and even though Canada is like USA Light, I was excited.






I'd been in Canada for maybe two or three days by the time this story occurs, and nothing had gone wrong aside from my rental car only having a MPH speedometer and not KPH (calculations on the fly solved that problem). Canada, the part I was in at least, is a beautiful country, and the Canadians I met were all very friendly. I was driving along 17 the Trans Canadian Highway taking in the sights. There were several trail heads just off of the highway, so I stopped, at random, to hike one.






There was room for maybe three cars to park at the trail head, which was directly next to the highway. I'm walking down the trail, which is a narrow path flanked on both sides by thick woods. The path itself is an overgrown asphalt road. As I'm hiking down the trail I begin to get a sickly feeling in my stomach, like someone is watching me. It is a bright, and sunny day, warm and hardly a cloud in the sky. I have no reason to have this feeling, but I can't shake it. At regular intervals I stop hiking, and look around myself trying to see if I can see anything or anyone watching me. Nothing. No animals and no people that I can see. In solo hiking such a feeling comes to you from time to time, the trick is to access the situation and make a cognisant decision about your safety. One should always trust their gut, but occasionaly the mind has a way of playing tricks on you, like beging scared at a scary movie. You know you're perfectly safe, but you're still not going to bed with the closets open.






I take stock of my situation, and decide that I'm fine. I continue on. About two or so miles into the trail a house is visible from the trail and through the trees. I stop at the sight of it, and watch it before moving on. It is abandoned. It must have been an old hunting lodge or summer house, and that explains why the trail used to be a road. Windows are broken, and roof shingles are gone, obviously the house has seen better days. Oddly enough, it wasn't that creepy. The feeling I had of being watched on the trail was much worse than the feeling I got after sighting the house. I continue on the path and I find another cabin. Then I reach the shore of Lake Superior. These houses are only 100 ft from the lake shore. They would have been wonderful places to live in back in their day. I sit on the beach for a little while, just enjoying the sun and being free, and after some time I decide to go back to my car. I still have a lot of sight seeing to do, and to make my way to my camping spot at the end of the day. I walk back toward my car.






As I near the end of the trail I see another car parked at the trail head, right off the highway. Always while backpacking I have both a knife and a walking-stick (which is a sawed off hockey stick) so I have some means of defending myself. I'm not worried until I see the guy standing at his trunk. He hasn't notice me, but I see him. He's rifling through his truck. I get nearer to him, and he still doesn't see me. Finally when I'm only about twenty feet away, he hears my footfalls and looks up. I can tell that I have him completly starteled. Immediatly after seeing me he closes his car trunk. I near my car and give him a friendly "hello." I ask him if he is going to hike the trail, and he says he is. I ask him if he's hiked it before and he says he hasn't. I tell him about the cabins and about the lake, and wish him a good time. I then get in my car and watch him in my rear view mirror as I drive out onto the highway.






The guy was a little creepy but I think nothing of it as I continue along the road. I see a beautiful scenic pull off, just a mile drive from the trail I had just hiked. I pull off the highway and drive up the hill to the scenic view. There are maybe two or three other cars in the lot and a few people sitting on benches enjoying the view when I arrive. I get out of my car and take in the view, and in the next couple moments one by one the other siteseers leave, until I'm alone. By chance I look down the highway, from the way I came, and I see a car coming down the road that I recongize. It was the car of the guy I met at the trail head. It had only been maybe fifteen minutes since I left him at the foot of the trail. There is no way he could have hiked for more than five maybe ten minutes before getting back in to his car and driving on. To my slight dismay I see him pull into the scenic pull off and drive up the hill toward me. I get back in my car and drive off. We cross paths, him coming in and me going out and he doesn't give me one look, which is suspicious. It woudl have been less odd if he had looked at me. But it seemed like he purpsefully didn't look at me.






At the scenic driveway turnoff I decided to see if he really was following me and I turned to go back the way I came. I parked at the trail head that I had just been at and waited. Sure enough just a couple minutes go by and here comes that guy. As soon as I see his car coming my way I take off in the opposite direction, going the direction I was originally headed. I drive fast and I find what I'm looking for, another trail head pull off, but this time with a longer drive, one where the parking lot is hidden from the highway. I check to be sure I don't see his car behind me then I pull onto the drive and park in the lot, and I wait. He doesn't come.






After an hour or so I continue on my drive, and the rest of the day is uneventful. That afternoon I stop for lunch at a diner, and strike up a conversation with my waitress. I tell her about what happened and she explains that many of the woods along the trails are used by drug growers as farmland, and even that the occasional dead body is found. Could that guy have been some drug grower? Who knows? Was I overreacting, or letting my fear get the best of me? Maybe, but all I can say is that I am still here and healthy today, and if I hadn't followed my gut maybe I wouldn't be.






-Danger






{Included are photos that Danger provided of the cabins mentioned in his story}



Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Nightmare Within a Nightmare Within a Nightmare Within a Nightmare...

I was laying on the living room couch in my childhood home, it was the middle of the day, but for some reason I no longer remember, I was deathly tired. I don't remember being sick, although I'm not ruling that factor out. I closed my eyes in the middle of the day and felt myself drift to sleep. I was suddenly awoken by a knock on the door, 3 knocks. I had looked around noticing something different. I accredited it to the fact that it was now Dark outside, I figured I must of slept well through the day and this bothered me. I heard the knocks again, they echoed this time as if they were on the door of a mansion.


I quickly hopped up and ran to the door, glancing out the window I saw my sister and her friend, Andrew. Something was off about them, but I couldn't quite pin-point it. They seemed to be standing there emotionless, but this was during a time where my sister was heavy into drug-use, so I thought nothing of it and swung the door open.

"Hey Harry." My sister said in a frighteningly monotone voice, "We want you to join us," They said simultaneously. Her and her friend stood there staring at me blankly, waiting for a response. I found this very odd, I would usually be quick to "join" her and her friends in whatever they did, they were much older than me and I strived for their acceptance. But something about the way they said it, it bothered me. She also had always been hesitant about letting me attend a social gathering with her friends, even when I begged. But even with all that, I still felt a sense of forced comfort. I would go in and out of feeling comfortable with the situation as if they were persuading me mentally somehow. Like I was fighting some type of Mind control.

I tried responding, but something had me frozen in fear, I didn't exactly know what but something wasn't right, even for a dream.

I also noticed the sun was shining outside, but in doors it was pitch black, but I had thought nothing of it.

"Are you coming? We've been waiting." In unison, like a Choir. It wasn't just their voices anymore, I looked past them and I saw a crowd of people. They all wanted me, and it would have seemed to be wonderful at the time, I was 13 and and craving social acceptance. Acceptance was all I wanted. But they all looked at me like I was a Trophy they wanted to put on a shelf. I watched as all of there faces twisted into the same devious grin. I felt they wanted to use me. I felt they wanted to harm me. But they needed me to want to be them for this process to work somehow.

I finally broke out of my frozen state of fear.

"What do you guys want with me?" I said as low as a whisper, but the whole crowd heard. They answered in unison.

"We're not going to hurt you, we... promise." They said, "We just need you to accept our invitation... you could be one of us." It chilled me to the bone, I hadn't a clue what they wanted with me. But I knew they needed me to accept them, they wanted to comfort me into letting some sort of guard down. I felt it in the way they looked at me. They wanted me to feel like everything was okay. Like nothing was wrong with the situation.

I was at loss for words, I wanted to slam the door but I didn't think I could handle the echoing knocks again. After this encounter, after knowing what would be waiting for me beyond the knocks. Their grins widened, it was as if they read my thoughts. They knew they had backed me into a corner of doubt and fear.

I made the quick choice that slamming the door would be no good, rather irrational as it was. I had to run, I pushed My sister and her friend to the side, and ran through them, I ran through the crowd as fast as I can. So fast that everything seemed to blur past me, I couldn't see what I was passing. everything was a blur. I knew I was headed for the crowd, but I never felt myself run into them, through them. Whichever.

Suddenly, things slowed down around me, I was watching as I ran through an unfamiliar neighborhood, a typical suburbia, white picket fences, every house the same dull blue as the sky was, the color of the sky before it rains. I watched as I began to run in slow motion, I was coming up on a house with a Trophy wife on the lawn standing next to her handsome husband, with the beaming white smile. They were holding a baby, It was just like a Realtor commercial. Things almost slowed to a stop. The wife looked at me now.

"Don't you want to join us?" she said in a hazy voice, as if she were speaking underwater, "Don't we look happy, don't you want to be like us?"

I was almost tempted to stop and welcome her as family, but those last few words struck fear into me, I felt like a cult was trying to get me to join them in some sinister plot.

I kept running, trying to keep my eyes off of them, door after door of Suburban households had slammed open, first the ones closest to me, then so on, like dominoes. then a figure began emerging out of them in similar fashion, A man of the same dull blue color as everything else was pouring out of each house, his face was a blur. He was nude and had the physique of a man, more like a Ken doll really. Hairless, lacking a sex organ. They continued to pour onto the streets, one per every house. I kept running through the never ending street. the further I ran, the closer they were to the Street. Soon they were all around me, I had no where to run.

They closed in on me, and I knew there intentions weren't good.

I popped up from the couch, the light was still beaming in through the windows. I'd only slept for 30 minutes if that.

It baffled me, I'd never slipped into dream mode in such a short period of time. I still felt the fear, I still felt as if someone wanted me to do something for them, join them in some sinister plan. I no longer wanted to sleep on the couch, and relocated to my bedroom.

Where I drifted back to sleep, and woke up again in my bedroom, But something was different... something wasn't right, a lamp in the wrong spot, something a color palette off, or it just simply felt consuming and dark... Every-time I'd noticed something off, it seemed I'd wake up again, only it would still be a dream. I felt like the room was now trying to get me to feel comfort in it, to "Accept" it as it was. To live with it as normalcy and comfort to put my guard down in it. I didn't think I would stop waking up until they got the aura and mood and setting of the room just right, until I finally woke up for real. I'd decided to stay up this time. I was deathly scared to fall asleep, I felt my dreams were trying to consume me. I'd never had a dream like that before, and I haven't since. (It was at least 6 years ago, and still fresh in my mind as if I'd just woken up from it.)



I was hoping that finally writing down this story, maybe getting it posted I'd get responses of similar events occurring to someone else, or maybe a theory?

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Dreams

Hi, everyone. Hope you're all doing well. We're going to mix things up a bit. The story submissions have gotten a little scarce, so for a week or two, we'd like to hear your scary dreams. What is the scariest dream you've ever had? Do you have a repeating nightmare? What do you think it means? Has anything you ever drempt come true? Etc...

Hope this spurs some interest, and get's your mind going. Again, send all submissions to DavidKrabs@gmail.com

Best Wishes


-- Alone At Night Staff

Friday, January 7, 2011

The Bear Bed

{Alone At Night Staff Note:  Though this story escapes into the realm of paranormal, we could not resist publishing it.  The involving tale and the quality of the writing would not be denied.  Beware -- the bear bed.}

It used to happen every night, almost. I’d do all the things my mom had taught me for bedtime...brush my teeth for 30 seconds and comb my thick hair so it wouldn’t be all tangly for the next day’s ponytail...pull on the nightclothes, socks and, when I was older, the retainer I had promised to wear so my teeth wouldn’t migrate back to chaos. I managed my little dictates, if not perfectly, then at least with good intentions. Not that any of them mattered.




I remember it happening in the fourth grade, though I remember lots of important firsts that year, so maybe I’m just assigning this new beginning accordingly, and inaccurately. What I do know for certain is that when I was a very little girl, I didn’t used to get suffocated every night by the thing that lived in my bed. And then, when I was a bigger little girl, I did.



Sleep always came easily at bedtime, though I’d consistently wake up again within a few minutes. And I mean truly awake, not that twilight awareness that nurtures rude dream-compositions of falling, running and failing. I could hear my brother in the next room, playing music or talking on the phone, or I’d smell the burning candles he’d coax into arrays of maudlin, waxy sculptures. It was a comfort to me, to experience this vicarious warmth each night before the event. It got harder when he left for college, and I was left alone to wait.



It would begin with a dark presence at the foot of my bed, though when I raised my head to look, I could only see the optimistic little pyramids of my feet and the securely shut closet doors beyond. After a time, I became so intimately familiar with the invisible creature that I imagined I could feel the crush of each carpet fiber pressed beneath its impossibly dense weight. It would stand there, where my quilt draped to the floor, and after an agonizing moment I’d feel cold, iron-tight pressure around my ankles. Then I would be dragged away from my pillows, smoothly, with machine-like inevitability.



The pulling would stop when my knees reached the end of the bed. The pulling would stop and the crushing suffocation would begin, as thick arms reached up from inside the bed and clasped themselves around my chest. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t move a single muscle in defense, I couldn’t breathe. Every night, it felt like I had escaped a horrifyingly uncertain fate only to be given over to a devastatingly known one. I knew those arms, that beast from inside the bed wanted me dead, wanted my last breath to unfurl as an invisible pressure upon an empty bedroom. My parents, my brother would only know that I had disappeared into the mattress. Though of course they couldn’t accept such an impossible conclusion. I never told them about what happened after the lights were turned off.



People talk about how enduring and resilient kids are. About how they can undergo horrific, sustained stresses upon their bodies and psyches and still rebound, still slowly unbend and form new silhouettes within the contours of fearless joy. It’s hard to believe, looking back, that I’m proof of that truism. I didn’t have an unhappy childhood. I had friends, went to sleepovers, earned the best grades and played shortstop on my local softball team. No one knew that I had come to accept the horror of my nightly ritual. Somehow, it never occurred to me that it wasn’t normal, that other little girls weren’t being dragged and suffocated every night by invisible demons.



It all stopped when we got rid of the mattress. I was a teenager by that point, getting ready to leave for college, and it was then that I first heard my mom talking to one of her friends about The Bear Bed. We’d just gifted the thing to friends of ours with a growing family, and mom was talking to my aunt about it on the phone. “Yes,” she said, “we just gave it to the Youngs. You remember what mom and dad used to call it? I know! The Bear Bed! The cousins used to be terrified to sleep in it when they visited, but we never had any problems with it. Mmm, hmmm...oh, who knows...I think they just wanted to scare us into behaving. You remember how ornery they were.”

_Allyson B.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Beggar Seeks Revenge


About two years ago there was this girl/friend of mine who'd I'd really wanted to make my girlfriend. Her name is Molly. At the time of this story Molly was living with a roommate, Erin. Erin owned a house and was renting the spare bedroom to Molly. Erin had a job that required her to travel a lot, so often times Molly had the house to herself. It was cool. Molly and I would hang out all night, and then come bedtime I'd head home to my apartment. How I wish I could have slept over at Molly's. Be careful what you wish for.


One January evening, I'm at home getting ready for bed. I hadn't seen Molly in a couple of days and I'd been thinking about her a lot. As I begin to drift off to sleep my cell phone rings. It's Molly. She explains that a man knocked at her door, it was around midnight, and asks if he can shovel her driveway for a few dollars. Molly explains that she said no and closed the door on the guy. She's alone and freaked.


Eager to be the knight in shining armor I ask if she wants me to come over. She says she does. So, I go over to her place. As I walk toward the house I see footprints going from the front door to the back of the house. I call Molly's cell to let her know that I'm here, and then I knock on the door. She opens it and lets me in.


She has prepared the sofa for me (damn) and asks if I want her gun. Her father insisted she buy a gun when she moved out. I agree to take the gun, and set it on the floor next to the sofa. She heads off to bed and I get settled in. I fell asleep.


I awake to a crash, as the living room window breaks and a rock hits the wall opposite me. I get up, completely forgetting about the gun and look out the window. I see a man standing in the front yard. He begins yelling at me, and I hear Molly yelling from her room. She yells, "Keith, are you okay? What the fuck was that? Keith?" I yell back and tell her to call the police.


The rock thrower must have heard me say police because at that moment he takes off running down the street. I consider following, but decide against it, and go to make sure Molly is okay. She's on the phone with the cops. Minutes later the police arrive and we tell them what happened. They never find the guy. Molly never sees the guy again. She and I have a very brief romance, but still remain friends.

Creepers in the Backyard

I was about 8, and my brothers, who were about 11 and 14, were home alone while our parents were at some party. We lived a really nice posh neighborhood, all huge houses and white fences and golf courses, so nothing bad ever really happened there and we were never concerned about our safety. Anyway, we were together in the living room playing Disney trivia (which is awesome, btw) and all of a sudden our dog starts growling. She's a big black standard poodle, who doesn't look too terrifying but has always been very protective of us. She started pacing around the back window, snarling and barking. Naturally we're a little freaked out, so the oldest brother looks out the back window and sees nothing--it's already pitch black out.

Our dog, Rachel, calms down and we resume our game. A little while later, Rachel did the same thing--growling, pacing, with her hackles up. We were getting a little scared now, and when we peeked out the back window, we saw some people creeping around our backyard. We let Rachel outside and she bolts at them, and they ran off, hopped the fence and disappeared. When we brought Rachel back in and turned on the TV, she started freaking out again. We looked out again, and they were back--just lurking around our backyard but moving closer to our house.

My brother ran upstairs with his airsoft gun, and started firing into our backyard, not really aiming at them, just trying to scare them off. They bolted again, and we called our parents, who left immediately to come home, and our neighbors, who came over and searched our yard but found nothing.

_Cenica

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Cranberry Vodka Crazy

I was new to the area I live in at the time and wanted to go out and have fun. Of course, i went alone which was dumb. I went to a bar, had a beer and a margarita. Some dude walked in and sat down next to me and I smiled and said hi. He didn't say to much, only asked for a cig. I remember looking at what he had ordered which was a cranberry and vodka.

Anywho, he got up like he was going to leave and he leaned into my ear and whispered "I'll be out in my car with a hard-on". Well, as you can imagine I just rolled my eyes like, oooh, ok... Well I had a bad feeling after that, an anxious one. You know how you just know something feels weird? I wanted to get out of there so I asked the bartender if it would be ok if he could walk me to my car. I was a little embarassed.

As soon as I got to my car and the bartender walked off the guy came running over to me with his arms up in the air like, "well are we gonna or aren't we?" Of course i just NO, Sorry. He proceeded to grab my arm as I was trying to get in the car. I slammed my foot against his and took my car door and slammed it into him as i started the car and immediately put the car into drive and sped off.

He followed me. I pulled into a KANGAROO gas station and the guy actually followed me. I was going fast so I don't know exactly how he knew which way I was going. I didn't turn off anywhere though, the road kind of just winds around. He pulled into the parking spot next to me. Looking mean as hell. I was really nervous because what if he had a gun or something? My heart was POUNDING!!

I noticed a cop car parked in the lot and that the officer was standing inside talking with the store clerk. I booked my ass in there to ask the officer for help, and tell him that I'm being attacked. I could barely even say it to. It was weird. It came out really funny like jello was in my mouth. The guy from the bar must have seen the cop and he began to pull away out of the parking lot until the cop went out there and the dude pulled back in as another cop car pulled in. Apparently he was already in trouble with the law. They immediately put him in the back seat and searched his car. He had no drivers license and they found a brown blanket in the back seat with a little bit of blood. I was crying by then. I was just so scared. I called my best friend and she stayed on the phone with me.


- Geekygirl.