General Paranormal thread - A cold abyss that light won't touch......

[Hate]

Paranormal stuff is fiction you mooks.

Paranormal is not about "ghosts and ghouls" it's about events that happen that can't be explained or difficult to. You faggot

 

[Begemot]

Paranormal is not about "ghosts and ghouls" it's about events that happen that can't be explained or difficult to. You faggot

We need some more Forteans in kf.

Also, borrowed from random images with permission.....

 

[Pope Negro Joe the XIIIth]

We need some more Forteans in kf.

Also, borrowed from random images with permission.....

View attachment 2474922

The "proof? In my /x/?" just makes that perfect.

 

[An Account]

Man, sometimes /x/ greentexts can almost fool you into thinking that board is actually worth something. Almost.

 

[Begemot]

Man, sometimes /x/ greentexts can almost fool you into thinking that board is actually worth something. Almost.

Here's some more I found....

 

[BingBong]

here's some great stories to listen to on these cold winter nights.

also, here's one of the best /x/ channels around right now. daily uploads
Midnight Broadcast

 

[Begemot]

here's some great stories to listen to on these cold winter nights.

also, here's one of the best /x/ channels around right now. daily uploads
Midnight Broadcast

Thanks for that, I'd also add these guys as well:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCD4-G3Aokt2sM7TYQV2HmA

The Pancreas Denial Conspiracy Explained: Feat. BTS!!!

This is an excerpt from Dead Rabbit Radio Ep 44 "Ghost To Ghost."Full Episode: https://deadrabbit.podbean.com/e/ep-44-ghost-to-ghost/Subscribe and listen to ...

www.youtube.com

Also, an interesting theory about furries:

 

[Begemot]

Kramer: [slides in] WELL! You won't believe what happened to me today!
Jerry: What happened?
Kramer: I noclipped right out into the backrooms!
Jerry: Y-you what? No clipped?
Kramer: RIGHT OUT! Into those hallways, y'know...
Jerry: No, I don't know.
Kramer: C'mon Jerry, they've been talking about em ever since the 50's! Ya see it's all some kinda government experiment, create more storage space, ya know! Whole place is empty! Nobody around, no one to talk to, nothing!
George: Really? [snort] Been living my whole life in the back rooms.
Jerry: [exasperated] Alright, alright, well what happened?
Kramer: Well I was wandering around for awhile, when I notice someone FOLLOWING me, out of the corner of my eye, ya know. Well! I lead HIM on a merry chase! But eventually we talked it out, ya know, it was a misunderstanding, and we found our way out. Ended up in a public bathroom down on fifth avenue!
Jerry: You realize I don't believe a word you're saying.
Kramer: Well, *pop* that's on you buddy.
[horrible twisty monster steps into Jerry's hallway gibbering and screeching]
Kramer: [turning] Uh yeah I'll be right in buddy.
[monster enters Kramer's apartment]
Kramer: [turns to Jerry, slaps him on the shoulder affably] I'll see ya later. [leaves]

 

[Begemot]

Also, just again highly recommend you guys watch this youtube series: Bedtime Stories It's pretty lowkey but has a wide range of topics. Best watched at night.

 

[Begemot]

I thought I might add this interesting Indian story I found on /x/:

I'm Indian American. My family lived in the states but we would go to India every summer to visit relatives. Up until this point we had always stayed in Bangalore and made day trips to a village not far outside the city to visit my uncle's family. In 2017, when I was 16, they invited us to stay with them in their village near Mullayyanagiri (a mountain) for a few weeks and make day trips to Bangalore instead. My parents figured why the hell not, it would give us more family time and would be less noisy and busy than the city.

Now my uncle's son, Prathap, was fairly rebellious and had rejected his parent's attempts to arrange a marriage for him with a girl from the same village and caste for years. He didn't want an arranged marriage, he wanted a “love marriage” and he held out for years having one brief chaste relationship after another with girls from Bangalore that never went anywhere and fizzled out before reaching a point where he could introduce them to his family. By this point he was desperate, and at least partly driven by horniness to find a wife. It seemed he might soon give in to his parents wishes and meet with a girl they thought would be a good match for him. However, after they arranged for the two to meet, he had canceled on them and told them he found a girl named Rupina he was “serious about” and that he wanted them to meet her instead.

This all came about, my parents said, because Prathap had seen his older sister Suvrita married off in an arranged marriage to a man that at first had seemed kind and upstanding, but had later been outed as a violent alcoholic. He killed her and then himself one evening after she chastised him for his heavy drinking, just a few years prior. Prathap didn't want to make a mistake by marrying a chameleon.

We got there while this was unfolding, after he had canceled and before the meeting with his new gf. It was late at night when we got in to the village after taking a taxi from Bangalore, which had itself followed a non-stop flight from Chicago into Bangalore. My dad and mom set up in a spare room and I got the couch. It was dead quiet at night out there. The houses weren't separated by much distance but most of the folks were very conservative farmers who slept early and woke early. That first night's sleep was blissful.
In the morning I went with my dad down to the corner store to buy a few essentials like toothbrushes and toothpaste (as well as some of his favorite treats, like peanut chikki) and on the way back he remarked that my cousin's new gf was coming over for breakfast with my cousin and would probably be there when we got back. We passed our uncle on the way back delivering our dirty laundry, and their own, to the local dhobi (washer) man. He told us Prathap was home with his girlfriend and to expect breakfast. Sure enough, when we got back the smells of masala dosa, idli, vada and black tea greeted us along with a woman we had never seen before. A beautiful woman, well out of my cousin's league. She was standing beneath the tree in my aunt and uncle's small yard that Prathap, his sister, and I had all played on when we were young kids during my summer day trips to their village. Prathap was there with her, and they were talking with my aunt.

The first few minutes I laid eyes on this woman are seared into my memory alongside a peculiar feeling. Looking back, it was her intense stare that stood out the most. When she looked at you, her eyes and the expression they wore seemed to move freely of the rest of her face. Like how you can tell a fake smile when a person doesn't smile “in the eyes”. Her fashion was out of place too, she was wearing boots, which was unusual for anybody over there. She had a sweet soft voice, and was friendly and extroverted, but she was always clinging to my cousin, her arm looped around his, almost as if she was using him to balance. She seemed uncomfortable on her own two feet. Within minutes, the peculiar feeling was gone and I felt pretty enamored with this bubbly, beautiful woman.

I don't remember much of the first conversation over breakfast except that it was the usual hodge podge of questions that Indian parents ask their children's potential spouses. “Where did you go to school”, “What do you do for a living”, “How much do you earn?”, and of course “what is your caste?” My uncle and aunt are fairly liberal minded people for village dwelling Indians, owed partly to the fact that they had been previously in Bangalore for their education as young people before returning. They didn't mind this woman's answers to their questions, and they didn't mind her different, “lower caste.” I remember a lot of friendly discussion and laughter. Her laughter mostly, extremely sweet and inviting. I soon forgot her strangeness, and felt a twinge of jealousy over my cousin's relationship with this beautiful, sweet girl .

The one thing I do remember very clearly, because I saw it for myself and because my father remarked upon it, was that my cousin looked tired, sleepless even, and it showed a lot on his face. Bags under his eyes, faint wrinkles, and so forth. My father asked him if he'd been getting enough sleep (wink, wink, nudge nudge) and my uncle hushed my father. Prathap just replied that he had been sleeping extremely well and he must just need to freshen up a bit.

When they left around noon, my uncle and aunt remarked that she seemed very sweet and a good match for my cousin, but that they think he should meet the girl they had set up for him first before he makes a decision. My dad wasn't really interested in his nephew's love life and made plans for us all to find a restaurant in the village to eat, or else we would take a taxi back into Bangalore and then rickshaw around looking for a good place to get our grub.

My uncle said there would be no need for that, there was a little outdoor market in the village where we could get lunch so that's what we did. We stayed there most of the day chatting about nothing important and enjoying the fresh air and when we got back to my uncle's house the sun was setting. We had been eating all day so none of us was hungry, so we had some tea and relaxed in front of the TV watching ridiculous Kannada movies. Near midnight my uncle and dad retired to bed and I turned off the TV and curled up on the couch not long after. My aunt and mom were long asleep.

It couldn't have been any later than 3 in the morning when I woke up and needed to take a piss. Their bathroom wasn't inside, like many Indian village homes they had an outhouse with a floor toilet like the kind that is common across Asia. I stumbled out into the quiet dark and clumsily slammed shut and latched the door of the outhouse behind me, hoping I didn't wake anyone sleeping inside. I relieved myself and turned around to unlatch the the wooden door to the outhouse and beat my retreat back inside when I saw movement through the gap in the door.

In the faint light of the moon I caught a glimpse of the color and texture of brown skin through the gap, and could tell the movement was very near the door. The next moment the same moonlight illuminated an eye peering through the gap as whoever was standing on the other side attempted to pull it open. I heard a raspy, high pitched woman's voice say something in Kannada that I couldn't quite make out.

I was so startled by the gaze of a stranger and the sudden, forceful attempts to yank the door open that I yelled out loudly “What the fuck” and must have woken up my father, because I heard the door to the house open again and he came out asking if I was alright. The eye, and whoever it belonged to, had vanished into the night. I unlatched the outhouse door when I heard my father's voice nearby and stumbled over to the porch where he was standing.

He asked me what was up and I relayed to him the encounter I had just had. He cocked an eyebrow while listening and then said “You were probably just half-asleep.” By this point the adrenaline was wearing off and I asked him about what I thought the figure on the other side of the door had said to me.

“Sundara”

I didn't speak any Kannada (I regret not learning, but my parents never spoke it at home except in India). My dad told me it means “handsome” and laughed. “Even in your nightmare's the girl's are eager.” I didn't find his jokes about it funny, and I was still shaking a bit from the encounter. We went back in, locked the door, and went back to sleep. It took me an hour to fall back asleep, aided by the last remaining bits of jet lag.

The next morning Prathap came over for breakfast again, this time without his gf. He looked even more haggard than before, like he had been under an extreme amount of stress. In his hair I caught the glimmer of a bit of gray. His parents asked him to meet with the girl they thought would be good for him, and after much cajoling he finally relented and was convinced. My uncle asked him where his gf was and he said she had gone back to her village up Mullayyanagiri for a few days to see her parents. My parents and his parents exchanged skeptical glances.

After Prathap left I asked them what that had been all about and that's when my aunt and uncle told me that there are no villages “up” Mullayanagiri and that Prathap must have misheard his gf. I shrugged, but my parents seemed uneasy when before they had been fairly lighthearted.

The meeting my aunt and uncle set up for the coming Saturday was three days off. The day before the meeting my aunt and uncle received a frantic, shrill phone call that I later learned was from the mother of the woman Prathap was to meet. She was in a panic and crying as she asked my aunt if she had seen her daughter recently. It turns out the daughter had gone for a walk to the village well earlier in the day and had not returned. Her bucket was found overturned beside the well, its water spilled. In the mud near the exterior of the well were found a single pair of footprints, leading away from the well.

The village headman was going house to house and organizing us into a search party. Prathap was at home at this time and we all joined in the search but turned up nothing. The disappearance of this girl cast a shadow over our trip and we felt uneasy staying in the village so my dad made arrangements for us to leave on Monday. It was Friday night.

Prathap left early the next morning before I got up, as his gf was back in the village and the two of them took his moped into Bangalore. It was a nearly five hour trip, but he could not be dissuaded despite the recent tragedy. We watched him ride off to pick her up and figured we wouldn't see him again until after we had made our way to Bangalore.

I told my dad I was going out to the corner store for some soda and chips. He gave me a few hundred rupees, barely interrupting his conversation with his brother, and away I went. About halfway there I saw something that gave me reason to pause. Rupina was walking arm in arm with a man I had never met, a very old man, quite a bit older than Prathap. She locked eyes with me, smiled, and waved before saying something to the old man before he shambled off. I was fixed in place as she approached me, now more aware than ever of how drop dead gorgeous she was. My heart was racing from the excitement of merely being near her.

She greeted me and I asked her what she was doing in the village as I thought she had gone to Bangalore with Prathap, but she told me they had stopped for drinks for the road first, and that he was waiting for her. I asked her who that man was, and she told me he was her father. I didn't have any reason to doubt her and it made sense to my horny distracted 16 year old brain so I just nodded and she patted me on the shoulder and stumbled off.

But there was something else I had noticed, that I began to notice even more as she walked further from me. Her gait was awkward and unnatural, like she had trouble taking each step. I stared after her for the longest time when suddenly, after a bit, she turned back to look and I felt my blood curdle at the expression on her face.

Because there was no expression. It was as if her eyes were dead and the muscles in her face had been completely relaxed. Everything drooped. But I remember the face she wore when she saw that I was looking. It transformed into the most sinister, wolflike stare I had ever seen, as the skin pulled back well beyond its normal tautness. I felt myself transfixed as she stumbled awkwardly forward, all the while staring back at me until she turned down a far street and disappeared behind some distant houses. I didn't dare turn my back until she vanished. Then I booked it back home empty handed.

When I stumbled inside I found my parents and aunt and uncle in an excited state. My uncle was holding an axe and, to my surprise, Prathap was there. They were heatedly discussing something in Kannada for a few minutes before they noticed I was home. It was then that my parents filled me in.

Prathap had not gone to Bangalore with Rupina. He had left on his moped to pick her up for the trip but had caught her in the company of another lover, a man much older than himself. They had argued and she told him he would get over it soon enough and accept her for who she is. She told him that her love with Adesh was true love like what they had and he should understand. Prathap, upon hearing this, had come running back home and left her there with the old man.

Then my uncle informed me that the “much older man”, Adesh, was the name of a teenage boy who had gone missing from the village just two years before after he went up Mullayyanagiri by himself one afternoon. That upon hearing of his decrepit, elderly appearance, and bearing in mind Prathap's more and more haggard look, they had finally asked him if he had been sexually active with Rupina, which he replied in the affirmative. They then knew.

Knew what? I was left hanging for a moment before my uncle told me that Rupina was not a living woman. The way she walked, her uncanny beauty, and the way that any man who touched her ripened like a fruit left out in the sun, gave away her true nature. She was a churel, the vengeful spirit of a wronged woman. And they were going to kill her. Either they were very crazy or they were very right and I was torn between both possibilities.

I voiced my doubts and my uncle glanced out the window at the tree in their yard. The same tree that Suvrita, Prathap, and I had climbed and laughed on together as children. He showed me the axe in his hand. “We will find out the truth soon enough.” And out the front door he went, making a beeline for the tree where he swung the axe back and then toward the tree.

I shit you not, the moment that axe wedged itself into the trunk of that tree, a shrill wailing started up in the distance toward the mountain. This only seemed to further excite my uncle as he swung furiously at the groove in the tree again and again, until he had nearly worn through it. With each swing the wailing drew closer, but was still distant enough that we could not witness its source.

The wailing was at its height now and some villagers, including the headman, had gathered to watch my uncle cut down the tree. “I'm sorry Suvrita, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, forgive me.” he kept saying in Kannada, later translated by my father to me. When the tree was felled the wailing stopped abruptly and my uncle, covered in sweat, collapsed at the stump and cried. His wife joined him and they cried together there.

Thankfully, nothing else came up over the rest of the weekend and on Monday we took a taxi into Bangalore. We did not see Rupina again before we left, and as far as we know she was not seen in the village again after we had gone. We didn't make any more trips out to the village while we were there, and I haven't been back to India since. I saw my aunt and uncle one last time when they came to Bangalore with Prathap to see us off the day of our flight back. Last I heard, Prathap is happily married to a woman from the same village, of the same caste, in a union arranged by their parents.

 

[Begemot]

Jusr some more greentexts:

 

[Begemot]

Adding to the REAL paranormal thread....
Adding some greentexts from 4chan, from Look it up on 4chan archive, child....

My grandma has a shadow person story that she's told dozens of times

> Be her, around 12 years old in the 1950s
> Usually walked home from school with company, but one day stayed late helping her teacher
> No one was picking her up that day and had no classmates to go with her
> Forced to walk home alone for the first time
> The path she took was mostly dirt road flanked by dense woods
> Took around 15 minutes to get home
> 5 minutes into the walk, she feels a presence following her
> Looks back and notices what seems like a "shadow man" following from a distance
> She starts panicking and walking faster
> She feels the figure matching her speed, staying just at the edge of her vision whenever she attempts to look back
> The shadow figure gets closer
> She fucking books it and runs as fast as she can
> Towards the end of the path, the wooded area ends and she can finally see houses of her neighborhood in the distance
> She starts screaming like a lunatic for help
> 2 of her neighbors who were on their porch smoking, go help her
> As they get close to her, my grandma turns around and says the figure that was following her retreated into the woods and just vanished
> Her neighbors also saw this fucking thing go back into the woods and disappear like smoke

They walked my grandma home and explained everything to my great grandparents. She never walked that path alone again and apparently a few guys from the neighborhood got together to search around the area for whatever chased my grandma but found nothing.

Posted this In the greentext thread
I’ve got one. Now I used a nicotine patch and put it on later in the day than usual. So that could account for this. I usually slept with nicotine patches on but always i put them on the morning. I liked the vivid dreams they give me. But anyway
>sleep and have an extremely vivid dream.
>laying on the top bunk in a bunk bed with my wife
>pretty quiet and boring at first
>suddenly hear the hissing susurration of a voice coming from below the bottom bunk
>the voice alone evoked the deepest feelings of despair I’d ever felt, and the voice had nothing on the words it spoke
>told me that my faith (Christianity) was a lie and offered me no protection
>told me it would kill me and send me to eternal torment unless I accepted its domination
>I was frozen. Couldn’t speak
>finally I built up the courage to tell it I didn’t believe it
>it laughed. The laugh sounded like dried skin of a decomposed body cracking apart
>I told it to leave me alone in the name of Jesus Christ
>I jerked awake
>look into the bathroom
>always keep recessed lighting of bathroom on to guide my way to the toilet in the middle of the night
>light is normal a cool white
>this night it was glowing a warm orange
>lay there next to my wife frozen. Knew that it wasn’t right but also knew I was wide awake and wired
>finally fall back asleep to normal dreams
Never have ever had anything else creepy like that happen to me. The dream was bad. Felt a despair so acute I can’t even begin to describe it. But the light glowing reddish orange was what made this experience stick. I was wide awake. That part I can’t explain away as a bad dream.

Me and a couple other family members have had some sort of strange experiences on my grandparent's property.
>Be me
>Live in the deep south
>There's two houses on the property, the original house that was built in the 1880s, and a second, older house that was moved there in the 1930s.
>I live in the second house.
>it's been renovated, but the original house was from about 1840, and served as a slave house on a plantation.
>The house is laid out like pic related, or at least as well as I can draw it in MS paint
>The original part of the house, I believe, is the main room & kitchen, the rest of it has been added on to in the past 180 years.
This is just basic info to visualize what happened.
First experience:
>Be in old room, back corner of the house, on my computer because I was a lazy fag
>I took my headphones off for some reason
>Hear a very clear, distinct two-note whistle like you might do if you're trying to catch someone's attention
>Sounds like it's coming from the kitchen, assume it's dad because it sounded like him
>Can't see because both bathroom doors are closed
>Walk out, he's not home
I've had some weird experiences out on the land itself, but nothing terribly interesting, so I'll just tell an anecdote from my family instead. Not greentexting since hard to format.
The main house on the property is sort of weird. It's also been added on to, but the front of the house is more or less original to the 1880s.
It's always made my family nervous - My mom's side has the sight, and I believe my brother and I both got some form of it.
The upstairs area is especially bad, my mom refuses to go up there.
At one point, she and my brother were discussing the house, and they discovered they'd both had the exact same dream about a third room (there isn't one) on the property with some sort of entity on it that chased them out. There isn't a third room, for the record.
The way they described it was as sort of a shadow figure that evoked a feeling of dread.

So, the upstairs has two rooms where I've put the black doors. The red door is about where the "third room" they describe would be, right around where that bathroom and entrance to the attic is.
The attic is much larger, but I can't be fucked to try and get it to scale.
I hope that's what you were asking.

I grew up in a haunted house. Didn't know it at the time but a young man killed himself in the detached garage. I never talked to my parents about it as a kid because I'm the youngest of four siblings and I didn't want them to mess with me about it. As an adult, I asked my mom about it and she said that she and all my siblings had the same experiences I did:
>freezing cold hallway next to the back bedroom despite it being 105 degrees outside.
>interior door opening and closing on its own (marked in yellow on attached pic)
>sensation of being stared at with contempt from window on the back door (marked in red)
>really, really bad nightmares with regular frequency for anyone who slept in the nearby bedroom
>awful feeling in the garage + unusually cold
The worst areas of activity were definitely inside the house but then again I avoided the garage as much as possible.

I assumed it was just my imagination when thinking back on it as an adult but hearing from my family that everyone other than my dad went through the same thing was jarring. Totally flipped my view on reality.
The county we lived in has all their death records public and I was able to find his name. Found his grave online to get some closure, I suppose.
He would have been 53 this year but he was 21 when he died. His mother lies next to him now. I hope he's moved on if whatever I encountered was indeed him.