Would I have to start planning outfits around the tattoo like I plan for weather?
You Creepy Corneristas are a weird, warm, and wonderful bunch.
THANK YOU. Not only for your eerie, goose bump-inducing stories — which were superb and kept me creeped out for days — but for your humor and sincerity.
I've said this before, but for a series named "Creepy Corner," I'm continually delighted by how sensitive the Creepy Corner community is.
Thank you so much to everyone who submitted. It was such a treat to get to know you all a little better. I 100% with kittens on top mean it when I say I wish I could have included all your submissions.
But never fear! I suspect another "reader round-up" is in Creepy Corner's future this year. Keep submitting to CreepyCornerMail@gmail.com!
So without further ado, here are your fellow Creepy Corneristas...
A Maybe Not-So-Imaginary Friend?
Submitted by Anonymous
When my Little Man was about two to four years old he developed an imaginary friend named Bucka. At first, it seemed innocent enough, the typical things: He would talk to Bucka and play make-believe, share a little of his lunch, tell me what Bucka liked or funny things he told my son. Then came the weird revelations ("Bucka like's stealing your underwear, momma, he knows you keep it in that drawer") and naughty shenanigans that my son would always tell me were Bucka's idea.
Our dog, by the way, had taken to staring at a particular corner in Little Man's bedroom and growling — not letting me or Little Man venture too close.
I started worrying about this "friend" a bit more when my son started telling me what Bucka looked like. He was dark like something burnt, with sharp teeth like a shark and sometimes they had blood dripping off of them. I started looking into children's therapists.
One night, after Little Man had been put to bed, I heard him yelling in his room. I thought, "I'm going to go tell him to stop playing and go to sleep." Except when I get there he was asleep — just standing up, in THAT corner, one arm raised and pointing at the wall, yelling gibberish things and tears rolling down his face.
I mentioned this to my mother the next morning. She went into her room, and brought back a bottle of holy water my aunt brought back from a trip to Lourdes, France. My mother took the bottle upstairs and started flinging the water around Little Man's room saying something about Bucka not being welcome and having to leave. Wouldn't you know? That's the last time we had any problems with Bucka wanting to play.... at least for now.
The Baby Loving Ghost
Submitted by "LS"
I was 8 months pregnant when my husband and I, along with our 7-year-old daughter moved into a new home.
About a week after my son was born, our house started having strange electrical things happen at night. Seconds before my son would wake up for a midnight feeding, a light in our bedroom or master bathroom would turn on. We figured it was faulty wiring and coincidence. However, it started happening every night, every feeding and continued for the duration of the first year.
For safety sake we call in not one but THREE electricians. And NOTHING. Our electrical was 100% fine.
Fast forward and my son stops waking up at night. Our weird electrical things also stop.
The day I brought son #2 home from the hospital, the lights start turning on again — bedroom, bathroom, closet, hallway. But NEVER in the babies room, just areas that would wake me/my husband up.
This time however, other strange things started happening.
The scariest thing that happened had nothing to do with the lights. I received a text from my husband saying "Come upstairs to bed," which I was confused by because he was in the basement.
I replied back "What? Where are you?" and again I received "Come upstairs to bed."
Super confused, I called down to the basement and asked him what the heck he was talking about. He said he didn't have his phone.
I went upstairs and found his phone plugged in beside his bed, and while my responses were there, the original messages of "come upstairs to bed" were not. This was before the days when you could erase specific texts. It was either the whole conversation or nothing.
Within the hour, my oldest son was sick as a dog — insane fever, vomiting, etc. I was upstairs because I had been freaked out from the text and didn't want to leave the kids. Go figure.
This pattern of weird light things continued for the next year. Until my son was a year-and-a-half and FINALLY slept through the night.
Then it stopped.
I have a theory of who it is. In the late 80s, a pregnant teenager went missing about a km from my house. She was never found. I too was a teen mother and while my husband thinks I'm crazy, I think she was watching over the babies for me, and helping me get up at night.
I hope she's found new babies to watch over!
Run and Hit
Submitted by sony_b
I grew up in the 'burbs around Los Angeles. When I was 15, my boyfriend was driving me home after an evening of hanging out.
So we're cruising up Normandie in his giant, mid '70s Chevy and out of nowhere there's a jogger running toward us in the middle of the street. I can still see the guy — blue Dolphin shorts (it was 1986) and an orange tank. He's just running straight into our headlights.
I screamed, [my boyfriend] cranked the wheel and the car spun. We hit him. We heard his body hit the side of the car behind the passenger door.
I think we both just sat there in shock for a few seconds and then jumped out of the car to see if we could help him. I remember trying to figure out where the closest pay phone was so we could call 911. We were teenagers, out after curfew, and we were terrified.
There was nobody on the street. There was nowhere he could have gone — the street was empty in both directions, and he would have had to climb a wall to get off the sidewalk. [My boyfriend] even crawled under the car. Nothing. No guy, no dent, no blood, nothing.
A year later I was dating a different guy who had a very different kind of car. It was a street legal Manx dune buggy.
One night we happened to be driving up the same stretch of Normandie when out of nowhere, the same jogger was coming toward us. I SCREAMED. [My new boyfriend] almost flipped the buggy trying to get out of the way. We hit the guy. This little car had no doors, no windows, no roof — we hit the guy with the body of the car by the rear passenger tire. I saw him go down and when we got out, he wasn't there.
It's been 28 years, and I lived in LA through college, but I have gone out of my way to avoid that stretch of road ever since.
The Stacking Spirit
Submitted by Jules the Mon-gal
During my university days, a roommate of mine went home to her parents' house for the summer holidays. At some point in the summer a cousin, his wife and their two children came for a 2-week visit. Shortly after they arrived, some strange things started happening....
One morning, my roomie and her parents went to the kitchen to make breakfast and found ALL of the plates in the house piled on the kitchen island. This wasn't restricted to the plates in the kitchen cupboards, it included the fine china from the dining room and a few decorative plates that were hanging in some hallways and bedrooms.
They thought it might be the kids of the cousin pulling a prank. They decided to put all the plates back before the relatives got up, and act as though nothing was out of the ordinary, to see if the children would say anything. They never said a word.
The next night my friend was woken up by something shuffling in her room. She half opened her eyes and thought she saw a white figure standing at the foot of her bed.
She was admittedly, mostly still asleep, and had had a few drinks that evening, so she shrugged it off and went back to sleep. That morning, she and her parents discovered EVERY cup and glass in the house on the kitchen island....including the one that usually sits on my friend's bedside table.
Assuming again, that it was the kids, and my friend assuming it had been one of them that she had seen in her room the night before, they again put everything back before the relatives made an appearance at the breakfast table. The kids again, said nothing and acted like everything was normal.
This continued for the next few days. The next morning was all the spoons in the house. After that, the forks. My roomie and her parents thought surely they could outlast these kids and beat them at their own game.
When it was all the knives, they thought things might be getting a little out of hand. Then the morning after, they found all the meat in the house on the kitchen island.
From the fridge, from the freezer, from the deep freeze in the basement: every piece of meat in the house had been left sitting out in the kitchen. At this point my friend's parents were pretty upset.
This little game was getting into the realm of at least wasteful, and at most, dangerous. They left the meat on the island and confronted the visiting family when they came downstairs that morning. The children swore up and down that they had nothing to do with it.
That night my friend was again awoken to something shuffling around in her bedroom. She opened her eyes and saw a huge white figure standing at the foot of her bed staring down at her.
Instead of going back to sleep this time, though, she screamed, jumped out of bed, slammed the door and ran to get her father. Her father got up, looked into her room and...immediately called the police.
The police came about 10 minutes later and proceeded to arrest a large, pale white man who had escaped from a local mental hospital about 3 weeks previous. He had been living all that time in my friend's childhood treehouse.
It seems he had been making occasional nighttime forays into the main house to steal food and, apparently, stack random objects on the kitchen island.
He was returned to the mental institution by the police and no real harm was done.
Thank you again Creepy Corneristas! And don't fret if you didn't see your story posted this time, I'm definitely holding onto some stories for a round two!