haunted objects

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For the first time, a haunted item has been 3D scanned, and the owners of the Traveling Museum of the Paranormal and the Occult got some strange results. The item they are scanning is known formally as the Idol of Nightmares, but is affectionately called Billy. As they tried to scan Billy, an invisible object kept getting in the way as soon as they began scanning his face. After numerous attempts, and an impromptu EVP session, Billy allowed himself to be scanned and the invisible object was gone. 

“When I was about five years old, my father bought these wooden decorative clogs. He says there was something off about the woman on the street that he got them from, but he ignored his intuition and saw them as a great deal. He placed them on the top shelf of the entertainment system in the living room, next to the couch that he slept on. (At the time my parents weren’t sleeping in the same bed). 

That same night, my older half brother was staying over, too, and slept in the couch adjacent to my dad’s. We all went to sleep as normal. In the middle of the night we heard my dad groaning, and my brother let out a scream. My mom and I ran into the living room and saw my dad being strangled by his sheets and slowly being raised off the couch. We put the lights on and everything stopped. We were all flipping the fuck out and had no idea what had just happened. 

Later that day, my dad gave the clogs to my grandma, who insisted that they were “too nice to throw out” so took them regardless of what we had experienced with them earlier. A couple weeks later she contacts us about the clogs and says that every night that she kept them in her living room, she would hear footsteps up and down the hallway and loud bangs on her bedroom door. 

She lives in an apartment building in the south Bronx (a truly dangerous neighborhood) and has gated windows, 5 locks on her front door, and keeps her bedroom locked at night. Whenever she left her room to check if anyone had broken in, there was nothing. We have no idea what happened with the clogs after my grandma chucked them, but to this day my dad still has nightmares of being choked.”

By: iseethestrals  (As it’s nearly Halloween, how about we share some creepy stories? I’ll go first.

Sword and Shield Graveyard/Spirit Jewelry

I am a graveyard witch and I work with spirits/ghosts daily. I’ve been doing this for over a decade and though I consider myself experienced, safety is still my top priority.

And it should be yours as well.

Therefore, I decided to share (most of) the enchanting ritual I did for my iron graveyard jewelry.
Or, my “sword and shield”, as I like to call them. They are enchanted to work as a sword (the ring) that provides “offensive” protection, and a “shield” (the pendant/necklace) that provides defensive protection.

I use this potent version of protection because I work with spirits so often off my own property and can be more vulnerable when not in my own house.

If you want to learn how to enchant a piece of jewelry to protect you when working with spirits, you’re in the right place!

Keep reading

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The Arthur’s Seat Coffins: A Connection To The Burke and Hare Murders?

In June 1836 five young boys, hunting for rabbits on the north-eastern slopes Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh, found 17 miniature coffins hidden inside a cave. They were arranged under slates on three tiers, two tiers of eight and one solitary coffin on the top. Each pine wood coffin, only 95mm in length, contained a little wooden figure, expertly carved with painted black boots and custom made clothes.

No-one knows what they were for, why they were buried or who buried them but people have been trying to resolve the mystery ever since.  At the time of their discovery, The Scotsman suggested they were used by witches casting death spells on specific individuals.  Another theory is that they were kept by sailors to protect against death.

They may represent a mock burial, possibly for the 17 known victims of Burke and Hare. Working in Edinburgh, they sold the bodies of people they had murdered for dissection in the city’s anatomy classes. This horrified many Scots, who feared that a dissected body would not rise to life at the last judgement. William Burke was caught and executed for his crimes in 1829.  Ironically his body was legally given to an anatomy class for dissection. We are unlikely to be sure about the meaning of the coffins. It remains hidden, among many other aspects of death and belief in Scotland.

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Haunted Dolls Caught On Camera Moving & Spotted In Real Life! #2

Published on 14 Jun 2017

5 Haunted Dolls Caught On Tape Moving & Spotted In Real Life! (Part 2)

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the signs as vaguely haunted objects

aries : a painting of a cotton field that makes you feel violent

taurus : an old box tv that still somehow works

gemini : a pair of tennis shoes doodled over and washed a thousand times

cancer : sand-colored curtains that move a bit too easily

leo : the sculpture at the city museum that looks like it’s watching you

virgo : a bookshelf that never seems to get dusty

libra : a rained-on journal filled with unintelligible words

scorpio : a lighter that never seems to run out of juice

sagittarius : the bicycle sitting on your porch, abandoned, but spiders refuse to touch it

capricorn : fake flowers in your grandmothers basement

aquarius : old letters and drawings from 1st grade perfectly preserved

pisces : a seashell with a long crack down the middle

The Anguished Man Painting

Sean Robinson inherited this strange painting from his grandmother, who had kept it in her attic for 25 years. Robinson’s grandmother believed that the painting was evil because the artist who had painted it killed himself shortly after completing it. She refused to display the painting and claimed that when it was around she heard voices and crying and saw a shadow of a man in the house.

When Robinson inherited it upon her death, his family started to experience unusual things while it was in the house. Robinson’s son inexplicably fell down the stairs, as if he was pushed. His wife felt someone stroking her hair from behind her, and they all heard crying and saw the shadow figure.

Robinson now keeps the painting in his basement and has even videotaped the painting overnight several times. A video of a few strange things happening around the painting can be found on his YouTube channel.

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The Restless Spirits of Flight 401

One of the most famous and well documented modern day hauntings was that of the restless spirits of Flight 401. Flight 401 was an Eastern Air Lines flight that was regularly scheduled to fly from the JFK Airport in Queens, New York, to Miami International Airport in Miami, Florida. However, on December 29th, 1972, Flight 401 would go from being a routine daily flight to one of tragedy.

On this day, the flight was operated using a four-month old L-1011 jumbo jet. The flights pilot was Captain “Bob” Loft, the First Officer was Albert Stockstill, and the Second Officer was “Don” Repo. There were 176 passengers on board. When the flight began nearing its destination, Captain Loft and his crew were carrying out routine landing procedures when Stockstill noticed that the landing gear light,  which told the crew that the nose gear was properly locked in the down position, did not light up. After failing to get the light to illuminate, Loft had the airport give the plane permission to enter a holding pattern instead of landing right away. While in the holding pattern, the crew began measures to confirm that the landing gear was indeed down, and the jet was put on autopilot. At first everything was fine as the plane reached its assigned altitude of 2,000 feet. However, in the next two minutes the plane dropped 100ft, flew level for two minutes, and then began to descend at a pace so gradual that it could not be perceived by the crew. Within the next minute the plane lost another 250ft, and a few minutes after that reached only half of what the assigned altitude was supposed to be. At this point the Captain and crew noticed that something was going wrong with the altitude. However, it was too late. Ten seconds after this realization the plane crashed into the Everglades. The Captain and his officers died, along with 10 flight attendants and 97 of the passengers.

Months later, sections of Flight 401 were recycled to be used on other aircrafts. Soon after the parts were effectively disseminated among the fleet, paranormal reports began to surface. Many senior airline personnel on the planes that contained salvaged parts from Flight 401 began seeing the deceased captain and his officers. Crew members, flight attendants, and passengers would often see the silent figure of a “drawn and ill-looking man” wearing an Eastern Airlines uniform. When approached the man would disappear. This mysterious entity was identified by several of those who had witnessed his presence to be non-other than the captain, Bob Loft.

Although Captain Bob Loft would often be unresponsive, there were several incidents where people had full on conversations with the apparition. One of these incidents occurred to one of the vice presidents of the airline who was about to embark on flight to Miami from the JFK airport. While in the airport, the vice president saw a man in uniform standing near the terminal entrance. Assuming that this man was the captain of the flight, the VP began to speak to the him. However, mid conversation he realized that the man he was speaking to was in fact the deceased Bob Loft. As soon as he had this realization, the mysterious spirit vanished. Another incident involved two flight attendants and a flight captain. They were having a conversation with Bob Loft in the plane’s cockpit when he suddenly vanished. The captain and flight attendants were so shaken up after the encounter that the flight had to be canceled before take-off.

Captain Bob Loft was not the only crew member of that fatal flight to continue hanging around after death. Don Repo was also seen on numerous occasions. Unlike Bob Loft, Repo was a helpful spirit who seemed to be looking out for Eastern Airline flights safety. One time, a flight engineer was carrying out a normal pre-flight inspection when he felt another presence looming over him. When the engineer turned to see who had joined him, he was shocked to see that it was Don Repo. Repo reportedly told him “You don’t need to worry about the pre-flight; I’ve already done it.” He then walked away and disappeared. At another time, a flight attendant noticed that a flight engineer was repairing a galley oven. Later on the flight attendant went to thank his colleague for doing the repair only to find out that the colleague had in fact not done the repair, and that the repair was still scheduled to be completed. Interestingly, it was later discovered that the galley oven had been salvaged from Flight 401.

As reports continued to occur, airline authorities refused to acknowledge the possibility of ghosts from Flight 401. Instead they recommended that anyone who had a “paranormal” experience seek some of the free psychiatric services being offered by the airline. Although the authorities adamantly refused to discuss anything ghost related, Eastern Airlines began to quietly remove all of the salvaged parts of Flight 401 from their fleet. Ever since the parts were removed all sightings have ceased.

(Sources: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastern_Air_Lines_Flight_401, “Hell House and Other True Hauntings from Around the World” by Alison Rattle and Allison Vale)

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The Long Lost Painting

Near Bideford, Devon (UK), a man named Alan Smith and his family resided in a beautiful old mansion known as the Heale House. Although everything about the mansion seemed normal from an outsiders perspective, it was actually rather haunted.

For years the family and the mansions guests would witness the apparition of a woman within the home. Her presence would typically be surrounded by a blue haze, and she would seem to float above the ground. The woman’s spirit would often glide among the hallways and in the bedrooms. These occurrences usually happened around one in the morning, and she was always accompanied by the sound of Chopin being played on the piano. Mr. Smith recounted how “sometimes she would even arrive at the bottom of my bed in the middle of the night.”

Although the hauntings seemed to show no sign of stopping, everything changed one day when Mr. Smith was approached by the owner of a local junk shop. The junk shop owner first confirmed that Mr. Smith was indeed the “master of Heale’s House” before explaining how she had come into the possession of an object which she felt should be returned to the original owners home. When she brought out the object Mr. Smith was surprised to see it was a painting of a young woman seated at the piano. Upon inspecting the painting closer, Mr. Smith was shocked to find that it was very same woman that Mr. Smith had been seeing around his home for years.

Mr. Smith learned that the subject of the painting was Mrs. Bell, the wife of an Argentine beef rancher who lived in the Heale House in the 1900s. Unfortunately, the Bells went bankrupt and Mrs. Bell was forced to sell all of her possessions-included her beloved portrait. A few years later, Mrs. Bell died without ever being able to buy her precious painting back.

It was decided that Mr. Smith would take the painting home. There he hung it prominently in the mansions drawing room for all to see. The hauntings immediately ceased. Despite attempts using a Ouija board to bring her back, her spirit was never seen again.

(Interesting side note: this story was brought to light after Mr. Smith took the painting to be appraised on the Antique Roadshow)

(Source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2102910/Thats-spooky-How-ghost-sightings-mansion-stopped-return-long-lost-painting.html)

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Bound together by a cursed ring: Rudolph Valentino, Russ Colombo, and Jack Dunn.

Hollywood is rife with shocking tales, some more perplexing and strange than others. Is the case of Valentino’s supposedly haunted ring just a myth born out of a series of unfortunate coincidences, or is there something more sinister behind it? It all reads like a horror pulp fiction novel, yet it is true. 

 It begins when Valentino saw a handsome tiger eye ring in a jewelry shop window. He went in and bought it, despite the vendor’s warning it had brought bad luck to its previous owner. Not a superstitious man, Valentino wore it during the filming of his next project The Young Rajah. The film flopped and was Valentino’s first and only career failure. He did not get hired for the next two years. Alarmed, he set it aside for a while, and his career began to take off again.  Years later he wore it once more, and two weeks later he was dead at 31 of peritonitis (or arsenic poisoning?). 

After his death, offered to own a memento from the departed star, his friend Palo Negri chose the ring. Immediately after she was struck by a severe illness which threatened her career. A year later, while recovering she met singer Russ Colombo whom she described as resembling the star. “From one Valentino to another,” she said when she gave him the ring.  A few days later Colombo was dead in a shooting accident, at the age of 26.

Colombo’s best friend, entertainer Joe Casino, inherited the ring. He put it under glass, convinced something was definitely wrong with it. But some time later he cracked and took it out. A week later Casino was run over by a truck and killed.

Casino’s brother, Del, stored it in his home which James Willis chose to rob. He was caught in the act with the ring in his stash, and died when the police shot at him. The ring returned to Del who kept it until Edward Small, a producer, asked to borrow it so Jack Dunn, an Olympic skater and budding actor, could wear it for his audition in the role of…Rudolph Valentino. Dunn hesitated but put it on. 10 days later he had died of tularemia, a rare blood disease contracted by handling a rabbit. He was 21.

The ring was put in a bank vault. Following a burglary no one knows where it is today.

Stephen King is a titan of pop culture. He makes up about 60 percent of your local Barnes & Noble, and has covered so many horror topics that most films are legally required to carry the message “Based On A Whatever By Stephen King.” As a kid who grew up gawky and un-talked-to, King novels were both a source of respite and joy for me. And with the new trailers for IT and The Dark Tower, it’s nice to see people come together to say “DAMMMNNNNN, STEPHEN KING. DUDE. IS. KILLING. IT.” Or something like that.

However, we should approach these adaptations with at least a little bit of wariness, because with Stephen King movies come the threat of Stephen King cameos. As tremendous as King’s writing career has been, his onscreen ventures are usually confusing, frequently terrible, and always unnecessary. And because of that, I feel that it’s time to document all the times that movie producers decided to remind you that Stephen King is a flesh person and not a being of pure energy that drops a book about haunted objects from the sky twice a year.

The Cocaine-Fueled Acting Cameos Of Stephen King

This Raggedy Ann was given to a little girl named Donna in the ‘70s, and she and her family immediately began to notice strange things. The doll would seemingly repose itself when no one was looking, and once it was even found in a kneeling position. When Donna tried to replicate the pose with the doll, she couldn’t – it was too soft to stay in that position and would just fall over. Childish writing began to appear on the walls and the family got scared. They found a medium and held a séance, where they found out that a little girl named Annabelle had once lived there, long before the apartment building was there, and wanted to play with them. Even worse things began to happen afterward – Donna’s father received inexplicable burn marks on his chest and everyone in the house began having nightmares.  Donna and her family got rid of Annabelle the Doll. It’s now in an occult museum; she apparently makes new “friends” every day.

The Car

Throughout my life I never really believed in the paranormal. About two and a half years ago, that belief changed.

I was about to turn sixteen years old, and I was excited only about one thing: cars. Cars and driving had been my only focus and reason to live for the last year of my life. I loved everything about cars: the raw power, the way you can tinker with them, the freedom they bring. Cars were my life. I had been saving up money from birthday gifts/odd jobs/etc. since I was 12 to pay for a car. My grandfather generously told me that he would be more than happy to buy me a new car from the Chevrolet dealership in town (he used to work for GM), but I told him that I wanted to buy the car with the money that I had saved up, and he thought it was a great idea. So one day, about a month from my birthday (my birthday is in late October), my grandfather and I set out to see some used cars we had found online. We had seen about twelve different cars, each in its own state of disrepair, before we found my dream car: A 1996 Jeep Cherokee. Forest Green, 4x4, and just one somewhat large ding near the front left wheel well. It had 170,000 miles on it, but I was not planning on driving it for more than three years or for a very long distance, so that was okay. The best part was the interior. The rather elderly man who was selling the Jeep must have had OCD or something, because there was not so much as a fingerprint in the whole entire inside of the car. Perfect. The only wear I could see on the inside is that the radio did not work, but I had planned to put an aftermarket radio inside it anyway that I could connect my phone to and stuff like that. The best part about it was the price, $1500, which was a complete steal since it had all its records and had a clean title. Other cars priced the same sometimes didn’t even have an engine. My grandfather and I were convinced that this car was perfect. Before I purchased it, however, I asked the elderly gentlemen how the ding in front of the front-left wheel well happened. “It’s a kinda funny story,” the old man replied, “I was drivin’ down the farm-to-market road one night around three in the morning. It was dark out, and I was admittedly drivin’ a little bit faster than I should have for that kind of road. I rounded a corner, and there were tons of vultures picking off a carcass on the left side of the road (I live in Central Texas, about an hour’s drive north of Houston. Deer, possums, and skunk are commonly hit in the back roads here). Well, since they weren’t on my side of the road, I didn’t slow down. When I got closer, I guess I spooked ‘em, and they flew straight in front of me. I swerved to try and avoid them, but I ended up hitting that carcass and one of them buzzards flew straight into the side of the car here” and he pointed at the dent. That story added up, my grandmother had cracked her windshield one time by hitting a flying buzzard, so I knew what those things could do to a car at high speeds. I did one last inspection of the car and the engine, found it to be nearly perfect, and started to write the check. The old man placed his hand on mine, and softly said, “you know, you seem like a really good kid. I’m an old man, I don’t need money that much. $1000 will be fine, you don’t need to pay $1500.” My heart leapt into my throat. It was one of the most generous things anybody had ever done for me. I paid the $1000, awkwardly hugged the old man in thanks, then left in my beautiful “brand new” jeep with my grandfather.

Time passed. I turned sixteen in late October. Things were perfect. Things changed.

It was around the middle of November. Thanksgiving break was upon us. My classmates and I were giddy with the thought of not having school for a couple of days. I was an avid Orchestra member, and loved to play in school plays and musicals. Since I signed up for the school musical, I had rehearsals every day until about 10 p.m.. On the last day before Thanksgiving break, we had an extra long rehearsal until 1 a.m. since the director knew that we would not be practicing over Thanksgiving break (which he was right about). The practice ended, and the entire cast staggered out of the auditorium exhausted, yet happy it was over. We all shared a few laughs in the school parking lot for a while, then we all got in our cars and started the drive home. It was very dark on my way home, and there were hardly any cars around. I was going around a corner when terror set in. I slammed on the breaks so hard that the ABS set in, and stopped about 18 feet from about twenty buzzards picking off of a deer carcass on my side of the road. Heart still pounding from potentially devastating experience, I turned my wheel to move around the carcass. That’s when one of the buzzards stepped away from the carcass and moved to the left side of the road to block my path. I could not believe what I was seeing. This bird was intentionally getting in the way of a car. I honked and honked, but none of the buzzards even flinched, and they all stayed in place. Frustrated, tired, and scared, I started to inch my way forward towards the buzzard, knowing that its animal instincts would make it move when I got close. It got to the point to where I could not see the buzzard since it was so close to the car that the hood blocked it from my view. I was debating whether or not to get out of the car to scare it away, when an extremely large BANG resounded through my car. A buzzard had flown into my car window on the right side. In my terror, I slammed on the gas. At the same moment I felt my wheel crunch the buzzard in front of my car, an ear-splitting scream pierced the air. Scared witless, I accelerated as fast as I could and got out of there, the scream still reverberating through my mind. The scream sounded more than what a buzzard could make. It sounded human. Almost.

I was traumatized by the night’s events. I told myself that those birds probably had rabies, and that’s why they were so oblivious to my presence. I soon passed the events off as a weird occurrence, and continued on with my life. Things were bad. Things got worse.

It was the day before Thanksgiving. I had helped my mom prepare most of the food for the next day, and in return I was allowed to go spend some time with my friends. I was planning on leaving around midnight, but at around 10:30, my mom texted me and asked if I could leave a little early and run by Kroger to pick up some vanilla extract for a dessert she was making. I agreed, since I wasn’t into the game we were playing, and at 11:00, I left his house. My friend’s house is what most people commonly associate with Texas. It’s located about two miles into a thick forest. You drive down this thin two-way road and then stumble upon about three acres worth of open pasture. It’s really neat. I was parked out by the road, which was about 100 yards away from their house. I couldn’t park in their driveway because his parents went out for a date night and were going to need to park in the driveway when they got home. So there I was, walking alone in the pitch dark towards my car. To give you a concept of how dark it was, I was pressing the lock/unlock button on my car keys so that the car lights came on for me to see. I reached my car, sat down in the driver’s seat, turned they key in the ignition, and shouted in fright. When the Jeep turned on, there was a hollow thump at the back of my car, and when I looked in the rear-view mirror I saw in vivid detail a long arm and hand plastered against my rear window. When I turned around to look at it, it had disappeared. After about ten seconds of heart-stopping shock, I broke into a fit of laughter. My friends and I were great pranksters, we prided ourselves in it. I, laughing, stepped out of the car to “confront my attacker”. But no one was there. Nothing. I checked the back seat. Nothing. Dismissing it as a shadow cast by one of the trees, I drove away from civilization.

On my way home, I decided to call my mom to find out if she needed anything else from Kroger. My mom has always been very kind, but very strict at the same time. When I got my driver’s license, she made me promise that I would not take anybody around in my car without her permission (she was concerned about the effects of peer pressure). In return, she would pay for my insurance, a worthy deal in my opinion. Anyway, I called her and was talking to her about the grocery list when she stopped talking to me. I remember the conversation that happened next word for word. She started asking me who was in the car with me. Confused, I replied that no one was in the car with me, not knowing why she was asking. She just slowly repeated the question over and over and over again, asking who was in the car with me. I vehemently kept replying that no one was in the car with me, but she remained skeptical. Angrily, she told me that she heard the girl laughing. The girl laughing? I couldn’t hear anything. Shaken, I told her that she was hearing her T.V., but she told me that she wasn’t watching T.V. She told me to call her when I dropped this non-existent girl off, and that then she would give me the grocery list. Then she hung up. I swear, every hair on my body stood on end. It stands on end as I type this now. How could she hear a girl laughing? Even back then I was a 190 lb. 5’10 guy who hadn’t made a girly laugh since I hit puberty in 4th grade. I immediately called my mom back, and protested that no one was in the car with me. She asked if it could be my radio making the sound. It couldn’t, she and I both knew, because the radio did not work. It sounded like my mom was just about to believe me, when all the lights on my dashboard went out. Most people don’t know this, but when your speedometer, fuel range, and all those lights go out, it gets really dark in the car. Really dark. I was about to tell my mom this, but then I felt my phone vibrate and I watched as the “Goodbye” message fittingly popped up onto my screen, and then turned off. Luckily, my headlights were still on, so I could see where I was going. That’s when the screaming started. The ear-splitting scream similar to that of a little girl broke the complete silence of the night. The exact same scream as when I hit the buzzard. I was too afraid to get out of the car in complete darkness in the middle of nowhere, yet I was extremely afraid being in the car. Panicked, I sped through the night. As I saw the lights of civilization grow closer, the screams lessened, then stopped. I pulled into the parking lot of Kroger, went inside and bought the vanilla extract, then called my mom to come pick me up. We left the car there overnight, and drove it back to our place the next day.

I called the old man after a week, asking if he had any weird or scary experiences in the car, besides the buzzards. All he replied was, “I WILL NOT BUY IT BACK”, then hung up. I never tried to call him again.

You might be asking why I choose to tell you this story now. The other day, I was reading the local newspaper. On the second page, there was an article about a man found dead the other day. He was found alone in the middle of a lonely road. The driver who reported it did not know that it was a man, she simply called animal control due to the immense number of buzzards surrounding him. The man was, as I’m sure you have guessed by now, the old man that sold me the car.

I have a Forrest Green Jeep Cherokee for sale. Perfect interior, one ding on the exterior. Clean title. 171,000 miles. $750, or best offer.

(Credit to GreenJeepCherokee, via Reddit)