Truly Terrifying. Never going there again after dark.

[coinman123]

The mind is a powerful thing. If you think they are real they will be if not they won't. My brother is s HUGE conspiracy Area 51 UFO guy. He has tons of evidence etc, but I just don't believe it. Good for him if he enjoys the chase. (I really hope i don't ever see a ghost I might just piss my pants!)


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I don't buy that area 51 stuff either lol! My Grandpa was convinced in little green people. You are right though, if you want to believe something then it is real, if you don't believe in something it is not real (at least for the person who is having each belief). It is a matter of faith, evidence and personal experience which will cause someone to believe one way or another.

I have to admit I am very scientific, always trying to disprove stuff. Some stuff is a little weird though making me believe differently, even my father (who is a high level science/computer guy). Extremely skeptic in everything that is not scientifically proven. He was at my house and said "Holy crap there is a little girl in the backyard!" This was when I made him put the chickens away at 11pm at night after I forgot. I said, "Did she have blond hair and was wearing blue." He said, "Yes! How did you know".
My answer was "Because everyone here has seen her." I am pretty sure though that there is physiological phenomenon which can easily disprove it though. The first person who saw the girl may have been extremely tired, on the edge of sleep, and their mind made up the girl (Hypnagogia). After they told everyone else what they saw, when other people saw something such as a shadow, their mind remembered what other people said they saw. Which caused them to think that they saw the little girl too. Though that could easily disprove the haunting, I still truly believe that there is a little girl who sometimes appears in my house, based on my own experiences.

 

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[coinman123]

The mind is a powerful thing; and even more creative.. funny how the invisible and unknown drives fear the most.

The unknown is more scary. If someone tells me that there is a chance that a poisonous snake could be somewhere in a cave, I would probably be very scared to go. If someone said, "Warning, There is a Rattlesnake in a corner of the cave, watch out for it." I would be prepared and more willing to go in the cave. My question is why I would even want to go in a cave though .

 

[T.C.]

This chapter is copy and pasted from an unpublished book written by Bob Hutton, who served with the C/2/5 Cav during '68-'69. It's called "Ghost Warriors." It is a complete chapter, but is a very good read.

Ghost Warriors
The third event came on the eve of the day when we were to leave the mountains for the last time,
and turned out to be one of the strangest any of us had ever experienced. Actually, “strange” isn’t really
an adequate description. “Eerie” would be closer.
During the course of the week following our bout with food poisoning, two of Captain Boatner’s
(Captain Conrad’s tour had ended and Captain Boatner was now the company CO) radiomen reached
the end of their tour and rotated back to the States. Buffalo and I were picked to fill those positions, so
that now the captain’s three radiomen were Wada, Buffalo, and myself. Doc Clark had been made
head medic in the captain’s CP shortly before the poisoning.
We were stopped for the night at the base of the mountains where they slopped down to meet the
edge of the rolling hills. We had received word from rear command that early in the morning we’d have
to be out in the open hills for a chopper pickup and the captain wanted to be as close to the landing
coordinates as possible.
Earlier in the day, when we were descending from higher up on the side of the mountain, I could
see the lowlands stretching away through the cleft between two peaks. As always, views like this,
where you could see for forty or fifty miles, were one of the pluses of being in the mountains. Even
through the hot, haziness of midday I was able to make out the farmlands and rice paddies, lying like a
GYPSIES Hutton— 275
patchwork quilt, out past the hill country, and further beyond that, the blue expanse of the South China
Sea.
The place where the captain had decided to dig in was low enough on the side of the peak so that
the ground had leveled out considerably. The angle was now only about twenty degrees and the heavier
growth of the jungle had given way to a setting much closer to forest. Most of our perimeter was in the
woods at the top end of an open field, but there was a small section of it that curved down into the field
and then swung back up again toward the trees. The field itself was covered with sparse, burnt-out
grass no more than two or three inches high.
The field stretched on down to our front for another fifty yards where a denser treeline skirted the
lower portion of it. That treeline took a turn up toward the lower-left part of our perimeter, where it
formed a point and then dropped away again along the edge of another field. This created a thin finger
of trees that came up and almost touched the perimeter.
Everything was peaceful and quiet until just around midnight. At that time the captain, the first
sergeant, myself, Buffalo, and Doc Clark were sleeping fitfully, near the center of the perimeter, with
Wada sitting up for his turn on radio watch.
Suddenly, several hand grenades went off in the open field beyond the lower part of the perimeter.
The entire CP snapped awake instantly and we lay perfectly still on our stomachs, waiting for the
expected incoming return fire. We remained that way for what seemed an eternity, nerves and muscles
taut, listening for some sound in the darkness.
Nothing came.
Finally, the captain spoke in an irritated whisper.
GYPSIES Hutton— 276
“What the hell are those guys doing down there?”
He took a quick glance over at Wada’s silhouette lying near the radio, “Who’s got that part of the
perimeter?”
“That’s the third platoon, Sir.”
“Get Three-Six on the horn and find out what’s going on.”
While Wada was making the call, the first sergeant whispered in the direction of the captain,
“There doesn’t seem to be anything happening on any other part of the perimeter, Sir.”
The answer came back to Wada almost immediately and he reported.
“Sir, Three-Six says they had movement down in front of their bottom hole.”
The captain tried to scan the impenetrable darkness, “Well,...it seems pretty quiet now. Tell him to
keep us posted.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The tension eased off gradually as everyone, but the men on watch, went back to sleep. It was
entirely possible there had been someone out there who didn’t want to be discovered. Maybe it was
one or two NVA soldiers carrying 122mm rockets down to the lowlands to be fired in at one of the
LZs. They’d try to avoid contact so that they could get down there safely and deliver their deadly
charge.
Some ten minutes later, another series of blasts went off down at the same location. Just as before,
we in the CP waited for return fire from whomever it was out there. But it never came.
“Get Three-Six on the horn again and ask him what the hell his people are doing down there.”
GYPSIES Hutton— 277
The captain was really irritated now. False alarms that kept waking his men from their muchneeded
rest just wouldn’t do. Again the call was a short one.
“Sir, Three-Six says they had more movement outside the perimeter on their bottom hole.”
The captain thought for a moment and then whispered to me, since I was off radio duty.
“Hutton, make your way down to that bottom hole and see what you can find out.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I headed down the slope quietly, squatting low to the ground. Actually, at this point, I wasn’t too
worried about moving around in the dark, mainly because there’d been no return fire. It was a pretty
safe bet that, if it was the enemy out there, they’d have fired back almost immediately.
Shortly I came up on the back of a foxhole with four men standing in it up to their waists. They
were all staring into the darkness down to their front. I slid into the hole beside them.
“The captain wants to know what’s going on down here,” I whispered.
“We don’t know. We keep getting movement out there,” one of them answered.
I tried, futiley, to peer into the same inky darkness, but, as usual, could see no more than about five
feet.
“What does it sound like?”
There was no hesitation in the guy’s voice. He sounded sincerely worried.
“It’s like a platoon of men starting down at the bottom of the clearing and making their way up
toward us.”
“That many?!”
GYPSIES Hutton— 278
It wasn’t hard to tell, from the irritation in his voice, that I’d come across sounding a little bit too
skeptical.
“You think I’m kidding? You just stay here and listen for awhile.”
It was easy to understand why these guys were already somewhat ticked off. Since there’d been
no return fire, they figured everyone else around the perimeter was probably thinking they’d gone off the
deep end.
I didn’t have long to wait.
Out of the dead quiet, an almost imperceptible sound began to make itself heard, drawing all our
attention down to the front.
“Here they come again!” one of the other men whispered.
I cocked my head to put an ear directly in line with what I thought I was hearing. There was no
doubt about it. It was the sound of twigs and ground clutter crackling under the weight of heavy, human
footsteps. That wasn’t something easily mistaken by men fine tuned to what someone moving around in
the darkness sounded like.
The footsteps grew steadily louder, as if a line of men, stretched shoulder-to-shoulder across the
open field, were making their way up toward the perimeter!
“How close do they get?” I whispered.
“We let them get past the point where the trip flares are, but that’s it. That’s as close as we dare
let them come.”
Now I was completely puzzled, “And they don’t trip the flares?...That’s impossible!”
“They’re getting close again,” another man said while picking up a hand grenade.
GYPSIES Hutton— 279
We all followed suit, the footsteps advancing slowly but steadily until it seemed they had every
intention of walking right over us. We waited until the last possible moment and then pulled the pins on
our grenades, tossing them out in a frenzy.
The explosions of the five grenades lit up the area momentarily, like the glare of huge flashbulbs,
while dust and debris rained down on us, crouched in the bottom of the hole.
When the echo of the ear-splitting explosions died away, we raised our heads above the edge.
The advancing footsteps, and all the sounds associated with them, had ceased completely. The tension
eased somewhat for the moment.
“Well,...what do you say now?” one of the guys asked in a whisper.
In complete dismay, I could only blurt out, “I don’t believe it!”
It was now painfully obvious that there was something out of the ordinary going on here. Not only
did the footsteps cease with the blasts of the grenades, but there was absolutely no sound of anyone
running away in retreat, back down the hill!
Like the others, I’d waited as long as I dared to throw my grenade, but there comes a point when
it’s more expedient to play it safe than to let curiosity be the death of you. If that really was the enemy
out there, and there was no doubt in our minds that what we were hearing were human footsteps, then it
had taken extraordinary courage for these men to let them get as close as they had on so many separate
occasions.
“It’s the same every time. We wait until they get close, toss the grenades out, and then there’s
nothing but silence for a few minutes afterwards. You tell us what it is.”
GYPSIES Hutton— 280
I had no answer for that one. How could I go back up the hill and tell the captain that there was
definitely somebody out there, but we didn’t know who it was, and they were acting totally contrary to
anything we’d encountered before? This was no movie script for a grade B ghost story. This was
supposed to be reality!
“There’s another thing that bothers me,” one of the other guys in the hole added soberly.
“What’s that?”
He looked at me in dead earnest, “If that was you out there, would you keep coming up the hill
knowing you were going to be pounded with grenades every time you did,...and not fire a shot?
Neither the NVA or the VC are that dumb.”
While we were pondering his question, another man slipped into the hole with us. It was definitely
beginning to get crowded in there now.
This time it was Lieutenant Heitov, leader of the first platoon. He’d gone up to the captain’s CP
from his part of the perimeter, to find out what was going on, and been instructed to follow me down to
this bottom hole.
“What the hell’s going on down here? Are you guys having hallucinations or what?”
Sarcastic criticism was something these guys didn’t need right now. They knew how it must look
to the rest of the perimeter, but they also knew that there was movement out there. I took it upon
myself to answer for the rest.
“Sir, I don’t think you have any idea what these men are dealing with down here. Just stay for
awhile and listen with the rest of us.”
“All-right, we’ll put an end to this foolishness once and for all.”
GYPSIES Hutton— 281
Heitov performed an exaggerated yawn for our benefit, “I’ll be tired as hell tomorrow with the
sleep I’m missing on account of you guys.”
The other men in the hole looked over at me and I simply shook my head slowly, expressing my
sentiments about his blatant self-assurance. I knew that, if the pattern hadn’t changed, it wouldn’t be
very long before the lieutenant became a believer.
A couple of minutes later, just like clockwork, the footsteps began down at the bottom of the
clearing again. Lieutenant Heitov perked right up, holding his arm out for us to be absolutely quiet while
he listened.
“Who the hell is that out there?!” he whispered, a touch of dismay in his voice.
In no time at all, by the sound of them, the footsteps were half-way up the clearing to the
perimeter. The lieutenant was the first to reach back and take a grenade out of an open case, sitting on
the back edge of the hole.
“Wait until they’re almost on top of us. I want to see who they are.”
The awful tension grew steadily stronger while we all stood motionless, grenades in hand, waiting.
The sounds didn’t get much further than they had all the times before when the lieutenant decided he
couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled the pin and tossed his out, followed immediately by the rest of us.
After the blasts, we raised our heads above the edge of the hole where the smell of the explosions
filled the air.
“They were almost on top of us and I still couldn’t see anything!”, the lieutenant whispered
completely baffled, “Why don’t they fire back?”
GYPSIES Hutton— 282
I avoided the inevitable, “We told you so”, and answered simply, “That’s what we’ve been trying
to figure out, Sir.”
Heitov indicated the next foxhole, about ten yards over to our left.
“Hutton, go over to that hole and see if they’re hearing the same thing.”
About halfway between the hole we were in, and the next one over, was the spot where the
treeline came up from below to a point, and then dropped away again. That narrow finger of growth
separated the other hole somewhat from the clearing directly down in front of us.
I climbed out of the hole and maneuvered over to the next one where I squatted on the ground next
to its edge.
“Are you guys hearing the same movement we are?”, I whispered to the guys standing in it.
“Yeah, but it seems to be concentrated mainly on your location. We tossed a couple of grenades
out when you guys did, because we could hear footsteps in the trees, but it’s nothing like what you’re
getting over there.”
With that I made my way back over to the other hole and slid in.
“Sir, they say they can hear them, but not as heavily as over here.”
“Good. At least that proves we’re not entirely crazy.”
I was relieved that Heitov had also witnessed what was going on. Eventually, he and I made our
way back up to the CP where we had to explain the situation to the captain. At least with two of us, it
was a little harder to conclude that we’d been smoking too much of the funny weed.
Grenades continued to go off regularly, outside the lower perimeter, for most of the night, until
shortly before dawn. During that long period, almost every grenade that the men around the perimeter
GYPSIES Hutton— 283
carried had been passed down to the bottom hole. That amounted to something like twenty cases
worth! A couple of times we even had artillery flares fired out over that field from the nearest firebase,
hoping to catch sight of somebody out there, but there was nothing to be seen.
The next morning Captain Boatner, Lieutenant Heitov, myself and most of the third platoon made a
thorough search of the open field below the bottom hole. We found absolutely nothing!
There were no signs of tracks, blood, or animal remains from all those explosions, or anything else
that shouldn’t have been there. The field looked exactly as it had when we first set up at its top edge!
Someone suggested that it might have been monkeys throwing things down from the trees, but that
didn’t wash. No animal in the world, whether it was a monkey or an elephant, would remain anywhere
near that field after the first explosions. Whomever, or whatever it was, had started up the hill again
only minutes after each barrage of grenades. And then there was the mystery of why there hadn’t been
the slightest sound of a retreat back down the hill afterward. Where did they go?
The captain gave no reprimands to any of the men for using the amount of grenades they had. It
was plain from the testimony of the lieutenant, myself, and everyone on the two lower holes, that we’d
heard something out there. He knew his men. They weren’t prone to imagining things or keeping the
rest of the company awake all night if there wasn’t a damned good reason for it.
When the search was over, he had us form up and prepare to move out toward the rolling hills for
our pickup. No “logical” explanation, for what it could have been, ever came forth from anyone. Our
only alternative was to chalked it up as “just one of those things”.
GYPSIES Hutton— 284
As for myself, I knew what I’d heard coming up that hill and there was no mistaking it. At times,
when they’d gotten close to the hole, they were actually clear enough to make out as individual
footsteps.
There seemed only one explanation, bizarre as it might sound, that even came close to an answer.
In fact, it was something I just happened to overhear two guys discussing between themselves, though it
was never brought up to the captain or other officers, simply for fear of ridicule.
Since there’d been war of one form or another, for over a thousand years in this country, might it
have been the ghost warriors of some long forgotten mandarin, who fought over this very same ground
untold centuries ago? The way those footsteps kept coming up that field abreast of one another, as if in
formation, was very reminiscent of those ancient military tactics.
I said it would sound eerie, but, then again, it wasn’t the first unexplained mystery we’d heard
about over here, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
I do know one thing for certain. Whatever it could have been, it was real enough to keep a
company of seasoned soldiers doing battle with it for an entire night. And it was nothing like anything
we experienced either before or after that one time.

 

[Argentium]

I am of the opinion that there are indeed entities that we don't necessarily see, and likely don't understand either . I haven't experienced anything as dramatic as some of the aforementioned posts, but I have had occasions where I had rather creepy feelings in various locations to the extent that I got out of there promptly. I always pay serious attention to my "gut" feelings when I'm in an unfamiliar location.

 

[FFFPatriot]

When I was living in Nevada back around 2006, my ex wife, a buddy of mine and myself were camping at an area off Lake Mead that was an old Indian burial area. We had a campfire going and Mark (kinda crazy fearless guy) was taunting the "spirits", just spouting off goofy jargon. He went to take a leak, and something shoved his shoulder hard enough to dang near knock him off of his can. Didn't scare him in the least, he continued his goofy taunts. My wife at the time, took out her camera and started filming him.
We watched the video the next day and I couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like deformed human heads kept emerging constantly to the surface of the fire that was going and the big boggler was when Mark was jumping around doing his taunts, a huge apparation of a person who looked to be a good 6'-5" tall and covered in fire flames walked from one tree behind Mark and disappeared into another in around a ten foot distance. The thing was swinging it's arms and walked in full stride with it's faceless head turned towards the camera. We couldn't believe it. We showed it to lots of people, and they were astonished by what we captured on the camera, as well.
About a year later, the doggone video was gone. Me and her fought over how it was erased, but it was a bummer, because I wanted to send it in to one of those ghost buster outfits to see what they thought. Pretty eerie.

 

[coinman123]

When I was living in Nevada back around 2006, my ex wife, a buddy of mine and myself were camping at an area off Lake Mead that was an old Indian burial area. We had a campfire going and Mark (kinda crazy fearless guy) was taunting the "spirits", just spouting off goofy jargon. He went to take a leak, and something shoved his shoulder hard enough to dang near knock him off of his can. Didn't scare him in the least, he continued his goofy taunts. My wife at the time, took out her camera and started filming him.
We watched the video the next day and I couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like deformed human heads kept emerging constantly to the surface of the fire that was going and the big boggler was when Mark was jumping around doing his taunts, a huge apparation of a person who looked to be a good 6'-5" tall and covered in fire flames walked from one tree behind Mark and disappeared into another in around a ten foot distance. The thing was swinging it's arms and walked in full stride with it's faceless head turned towards the camera. We couldn't believe it. We showed it to lots of people, and they were astonished by what we captured on the camera, as well.
About a year later, the doggone video was gone. Me and her fought over how it was erased, but it was a bummer, because I wanted to send it in to one of those ghost buster outfits to see what they thought. Pretty eerie.

Wow! A few years back I went to a very haunted graveyard. I took some evps for fun, asking what there name was, how old they were, etc. I played one back and right after I said, "What is your name." Someone clearly said, "SHUT UP!" Somehow the evp is gone from the phone, I hope I can recover it though.

 

[achetadomestica]

The scariest thing that ever happened to me was when I use to go out at night and catch lizards and snakes and other reptiles for money.
I even went out west 3 times and caught 100s and 100s of reptiles including rattlesnakes.
I went out 2-5 times a week for years and years and collected reptiles for the pet trade. My senses became real tuned in. I was almost always alone.
I do not scare easy and never have. I have a quick response to my surroundings. Anyway one I was out night walking in Clewiston FL catching house geckos
along a building. I went by an old school bus and an owl flew out and clipped me on the shoulder as he went by. I am telling you if I had to go to the bathroom
I would have. WOW did that scare me!

 

[Mudflap]

Take a walk around Gettysburg battlefield on a overcast rainy day. Very eerie......

 

[coinman123]

The scariest thing that ever happened to me was when I use to go out at night and catch lizards and snakes and other reptiles for money.
I even went out west 3 times and caught 100s and 100s of reptiles including rattlesnakes.
I went out 2-5 times a week for years and years and collected reptiles for the pet trade. My senses became real tuned in. I was almost always alone.
I do not scare easy and never have. I have a quick response to my surroundings. Anyway one I was out night walking in Clewiston FL catching house geckos
along a building. I went by an old school bus and an owl flew out and clipped me on the shoulder as he went by. I am telling you if I had to go to the bathroom
I would have. WOW did that scare me!

Picture being a little tense in the woods, not knowing where your partner is. All of a sudden you hear, "GOBBLEGOBBLEGAAAAHGAHHRAWWWW" and a huge explosion of leaves and a whooshing sound of beating wings. When you look up you see a ruffed grouse flying away. Those things scare the crap out of me! Also, you are extremely brave catching those rattlesnakes, I am hesitant even picking up a large garter snake . I am not scared of tame snakes though, at a party I was the only one who was brave enough to have two ball pythons be put around my neck .

 

[Kurios1]

I love hunting after dark in the summertime. I've been in some woods after dark and there is a creep factor there for sure. I have never felt any ominous presence nearing me. I usually spook myself when my headlamp catches a leaf and casts a shadow in front of me. I don't believe in "ghosts" but, do believe in inter-dimensional "entities". It's a spiritual thing and I also believe I have protection from anything that goes bump in the night. So I will continue to hunt in weird areas even after dark. After all I have a Lesche and I sure as hell know how to use it.