Ghost stories, Creepy tales, whos got 'em?

The really scary and creepy true stories I could relate all pertain to my first (and X) wife, but being the gentleman that I am I alone will live with the horror of a knife wielding angry sprit................:eek::eek::eek::eek:
 
For reasons not pertinent to this story, I was raised by my maternal grandparents. My parents lived in the same town but I seldom saw them. My grandmother was the adult female figure in my life.

In 1963 I was working as a civilian contractor in Germany. One day my father called me. My grandmother had had a heart attack and wasn't expected to live. I got back home as quickly as I could, but she died about a day before I arrived. I was there for the funeral, but I felt really sad that I hadn't been able to see her one last time before she died.

About a month later I was back in Germany, where I had a small apartment. I woke up one night, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and felt the urge to look out the window next to my bed. There was a heavy fog, and as I watched, a figure emerged from the fog.

I instantly recognized the figure as my grandmother. I recall distinctly that I felt no surprise that I had seen her buried a month before. I was only surprised to see her in Germany, halfway around the world from where she had spent her life.

She came into the apartment and we talked for what seemed a long time. She told me she understood why I hadn't been there to say goodbye to her, so she had come to visit me one last time so we could say goodbye.

After a while we hugged and kissed, and she left. I sat on my bed and watched her walk down the sidewalk, into the fog. I went back to sleep, at peace for the first time since her death.

Years later I told this story to a golfing buddy, who was a psychologist. He said I had obviously had a dream in which my psyche made my feelings of guilt and regret bearable. I told him yeah, he was probably right.

What I didn't tell him was about the wet, snowy footprints I found on my carpet when I awoke tha next morning.

And it was good to not tell him.

He/they work at grasping ideas that move in and out of the fog yet never truly see but fall back on one of their textbooks. They understand nothing of the ethereal.

Your grandmother sounds like a wonderful person. I can see her doing that.
 
A friend told me a ghost story that involved a cemetery.
She and a friend had gone out one night and came upon a cemetery. While walking around the cemetery they heard drumming coming from over a hill near the cemetery. The man went to see what was going on.
While he was gone the woman and her two kids were standing at the cemetery and as the drums were beating they saw heavy smoke or cloud like movements coming up out of the graves.

About then the man came running full speed back to them and said get in the car we are getting the heck out of here. He said he will never tell what he saw over the hill. As they were leaving the kids both asked what was the clouds coming up out of the graves.
 
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