True Ghost Stories to Get Into the Spooky Spirit

Reader beware – you choose the scare!

It’s midnight on Thanksgiving Monday, rain rattles against the awning, and the trees scrape against the side of the house. I have a space heater running in my room as I get ready for bed, while my little black cat rubs up against my legs, and I peek at my calendar for the week. Oh no! I forgot to write my article this week, and it’s due tonight. What will I do!? It’s dead quiet in my house, you see, and I’m cat-sitting for my parents while home alone. I’ve stayed up late writing ghost stories on a dark, stormy October night.

I love autumn for all the reasons you do: pumpkins, falling leaves, the normalization of occult practices, daylight savings, and more. For these reasons, I’ve been planning on writing this article since I found out I’d be writing for Her Campus. Procrastination will be the death of me; I’ll admit that as I write this. But still, I’m prepared. I made a Google Form a few months ago, and I’ve been slowly collecting certified true spooky stories from friends and strangers. Thus, without further ado, here’s the most terrifying, ghoulish, and spine-tingling collection of true ghost stories I could collect for you. Beware, and enjoy.

The first story comes from someone named Wilde, who shared their tale via Google Forms. This means I’ve never, and may never, see their face in person…spooky.

The Student House of Despair

It’s 2013, in Kingston, Ontario. Menchies is still open (hell-yeah froyo), “Royals” by Lorde just came out as a huge hit, and the swaggiest folks are doing the “Harlem Shake” on Vine. Starting the second year of university, Wilde had just moved into a new house in the student neighbourhood and noticed that strange things began happening. No, it’s not because everyone was listening to “What Does The Fox Say?” too much, but I can see how that may have disrupted some restless spirits. Nevertheless, malicious things had begun to happen in the student house, starting with instances that were easily explained away or at least rationalized. Footsteps echoing from other parts of the house, odd noises in the attic, and the wind howling through the place, mimicking the sounds of the suffering undead. Wilde got an eerie feeling like an icy knife slicing through your vertebrae, or like that spine-tingling instinct of being watched by an unknown entity that gives you goosebumps. Overall, the house had a pervasive energy of unease, especially when staying home all alone. 

It wasn’t until Wilde and their housemates began to have horrid, vivid nightmares that they started to realize they may be dealing with something outside of this realm. Often, the housemates would awake the next day groggy and discuss the night while having coffee together, only to realize that multiple housemates shared the exact same dream. 

On one particular spectre-ridden night, the bathroom cabinet door was ripped off its hinges and tactfully tucked beneath the cabinet. Wilde assures me that there was no way, based on the absurd positioning of the door, that this was the work of gravity alone. 

After the bathroom incident, the roommates decided once and for all to contact this ghost, to receive its message in the hope of assuaging its malice. So one of the roommates took their Bananagrams tiles – yes, the Scrabble-like game – and left them for the ghost to use to communicate. When they returned, the tiles were tilted! The roommates were horrified to see the message “SAY UR IT” intricately spelled out three times on the table’s surface. 

Once Wilde moved away from their place, the spooky occurrences ceased completely. In the end, they named their ghost Christopher, so I guess sometimes you really don’t get to choose your housemates.

The next story I’ll share is a little more personal. You see, I grew up in a church-going family. In fact, there are three reverends in my immediate family, and my mum ran the Sunday school, which I was begrudgingly made to teach at – sorry for not being a better sport, Mum and Jesus. Now, if I were smart, I would’ve just interviewed my family members because, throughout my life, I remember times when they were called into homes suspected of demonic or unhealthy spiritual activity. It’s truly scary but gives me an opportunity to share part two of the story.

The Haunted Church

Anyways, my church* was erected first in 1831. The white pine frame building promptly went up in flames and was then rebuilt with a basement, and many additional rooms were added later. However, it burned down a second time, so the third restoration was finally erected as an enormous and magnificent gothic brick building. Unfortunately, the parking lot covers the original cemetery, which is honestly where I assume the ghostly activity comes from. Legend has it that the gravestones are still hidden somewhere within the church. Not to mention, this church is the most proximal to the courthouse, and, as a result, the gallows  (the clearest religious haven for a wayward) recently executed spirit. Growing up in a community near this church, I’ve had many experiences in the space – mostly wonderful experiences, but that isn’t what you’re here for. 

First off, when I was a girl, I remember being alone in the sanctuary playing with another child. We were standing by the pulpit (where the minister preaches) at the back of the sanctuary, and I heard a shrill woman’s laugh, but there was no one to match that voice in the vicinity. Another time, the reverend and a mother were alone in the common room that had two heavy oak doors leading to a basement with an event space. The two people swear that they distinctly heard heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs, but there was nothing to be seen when they checked. Needless to say, they left the church for the night soon after this happened. The minister also told me that he would sometimes hear someone clearing their throat out of the eerie silence while working alone in his office late at night. 

I was told about a caretaker who once witnessed some large black creature climb down the wall into the coat closet just off the sanctuary while alone one night. The thought of this still gives me chills because even before being told of this, that closet and section of the sanctuary always raised the hairs on my neck. Something always felt a bit off about that space.

The bats were also completely spooky, but not supernatural. The funniest and most thrilling part of every Christmas Eve service was waiting for the organ to wake up the bats until they started flying over the congregation as we ducked from their dive attacks and celebrated the nativity.

I almost don’t want to think about this to write it, because again, I’m sleeping alone in an empty house on a rainy night, but I will share anyway. There’ve been multiple reports of an entity most commonly located near the church’s stairs that led to the Sunday school beside the parking lot. It’s at the stairs, where multiple women, including my mum, have been forcefully and physically pushed down said stairs, to the point that they’ve broken limbs! My mum rolled her ankle, and another woman was thrown multiple feet down the corridor next to the stairs and broke her hip. Somebody also told me about two women from a quilting group who were climbing the stairs from the basement when a ghostly male figure stood at the top of the stairs and pushed these women back down…not good. 

Just a note, but nearly all of the ministers who have served at this particular church have either resigned, died during their term here, left the country, or suffered mentally due to the haunting energy. It’s bizarre to have activity like this in a church, which despite all that I just said, is truly a lovely worship community. 

*Please do not try and snoop out the name of the church; I don’t want to get in trouble.

My final story comes to us from Picton, Ontario, Canada, submitted by my friend Ruby from high school. 

An Unintended Visitor from Beneath the Tree Line

On September 28th, 2020, Ruby had the idea to visit Macaulay Mountain Conservation Area, also known as Birdhouse City, which is a truly delightful bird sanctuary. That said, it’s not always delightful and quite possibly inhabited by spirits with dark intentions. 

While taking her dogs for a walk that evening, Ruby and her boyfriend opted to take the more open path because there was a particular air of suspicion with weird sounds seemingly coming from the bushes. As they climbed the sloping paths and reflected on the day, the sunset melted into a hazy, smoky, dull night. About 15 minutes into the walk, they both agreed that things felt a bit off; they felt the particular stinging feeling of being watched. There was a palpable uneasy feeling that something was going to go wrong. 

As the pair stood halted for a moment, lingering in unease, Ruby scanned the treeline. Just within the forest, standing unnaturally still, stood a tall featureless figure. To quote Ruby, “It was still light enough outside that if it were a regular person standing there, you would have been able to see facial features or even discern ethnicity.” This person was completely covered in black from head-to-toe. 

Upon noticing this unintended visitor, they made a speedy retreat to the car and drove back home to safety. Ruby said, “We keep rethinking about what this could have been or what was even happening, but overall it was just a super weird experience.” She also shared that “Macaulay Mountain is a really scary place, and I’ve heard so many unsettling stories about it. Just never thought I would have experienced it!” Hikers beware. 

Well, there you have it! Three spine-chilling tales to keep ME up tonight…why did I have to pick this theme this week?

Thank you for reading, and have a safe and happy Halloween!

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