Quote:
Originally Posted by smudge1
Ok Jake. Time to spill the beans.
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I can't find it, damnit. So I'll try it again.
True story, me and my co-workers Brian and Mark are at O'Charley's drinking (heavily). Brian grew up in Tuscaloosa, and we're recounting all the strange ghost stories that are associated with Tuscaloosa. Just a few days earlier, someone called 911 to report an abandoned Baptist Church was on fire, and there was no fire, but that happens at least once a year because that church burned in the early 1900's and someone sees a ghost fire.
Brian mentions that there is a house, in the back of an abandoned field that is an old manor house from the 1800's, abandoned, and haunted. So, naturally, we are there. In our slightly intoxicated state. And it's 40 degrees, and I'm wearing shorts.
We arrive at the area, a regular housing community on the east side of town, and park. We walk to a dirt road, with houses on the left, and a very large field (5 acres at least) containing horses and cows. As we walk down the path, every yard on our left has a dog, and they are shrieking at us. Throw in the cold and the 20 mph wind, it's pretty unnerving. It was more unnerving that Brian's flashlight stopped working right at that time. As we get half way down the path, the dogs suddenly stop completely. It's eerily quiet. Brian says, 'OK, when we get down here at the end, we need to make a button-hook turn, and it'll be very dark'.
We literally could not see our hands in front of our faces. It was a dirt path that slightly rose. We just followed Brian's voice until we could see the top of some grass as we exited the button hook. At the top of the button hook was a very large field, at least 300 yds. I said, "Um yea, I don't see any house", and like in any good horror movie, the wind kicked up and blew all the 4 ft tall grass flat, and lo and behold, there was a large, plantation looking manor home tucked back in the corner of a small forest.
We followed the path to the home (there was a beaten down trail in the grass), and arrived at the home. It seemed to be in perfect condition, except old and creepy. We noticed the door was ajar, so we creaked it opened, and not 4 feet in front of the door was a pile 3 ft by 2 ft off the ground of holiday cards; Xmas, Easter, Birthday, etc. All personally written and signed, all from the early 1900's to 1920's. It was like someone was standing there reading them, and just dropping them to the ground one after another.
This is where my 'funny guy' gene kicked in. I said, "no way I'm going in that house!" And stayed outside. My friends made fun of me, but what I did was follow them around the house on the outside knocking on the wall, or standing back so my shadow could be seen. I could hear Mark exclaiming "what the fuck was that!" I bring the lulz..
I decided to scare them when they came back out, so I crouched down on the porch, but I could be seen when the moonlight broke thru the clouds (it was a full-moon, of course). So then I went directly opposite the front door into a small wooded area, thinking when they walk out I'll just charge out and watch them defecate themselves. But again, the moonlight was thwarting my plan. Then I went to the tall grass, but every time I crouched down, the wind would howl again, and lay the grass down.
Then I got brave/the alcohol kicked in. I decided to wait in the pitch black button hook for them to walk by. I entered the button hook, and I walked straight ahead until I couldn't see the tall grass, knowing that I'd hear them but not see them. I was there for about 30 seconds when I heard the snap of a twig, as someone stepped on something in the button hook of darkness. Only it came from my left, instead of from my right and in front of me. I just sorta froze and in my mind, in the darkness, I thought I saw something move about 8 feet in front of me from left to right. That's when I decided it was time to stop being funny and maybe find a better spot to hide, like way the fuck away from there.
I hiked it back, by myself, past the howling dogs, to a tree with an overhanging branch that traversed the path. I shimmied up it, and waited for Brian and Mark. The whole way, I could hear Mark cursing my name because he knew I was waiting for him to scare the poo out of him. I remember thinking it was weird that the dogs didn't start howling again until I passed that same point, and it did the same for Brian and Mark. And it was also weird that Brian's flashlight seemed to start working again when they passed that point.
As they passed by me, I dropped out of the tree, and Mark just about shit himself, and turned around and tried to beat the fear out of himself with the help of my face. After he calmed down (and Brian stopped laughing), he was standing beside the fence to the field when he heard a rustling. He turned around and a horse was not 6 inches from the back of his head. He jumped a country mile and we ran back to the car and got the f out of there.
They recounted that on the 2nd floor, they found footprints, looked like fresh ones, and they were convinced that it was a ghost with a liking of Nike sneakers.
2 weeks later, I'm at the TV station perusing the AP wire, and the local Alabama news wire. The story that catches my attention is, "escaped mental patient captured in Tuscaloosa". Hmmm.... turns out that a patient at one of the mental institutions in Tuscaloosa (there is more than 1) with a murder under his belt had just walked away one day. And of course he was captured on the road leading to the manor. He had been living in the house for about 3 weeks or so. So yes, I did see something, but it wasn't a ghost; it was just an escaped lunatic.
So that's why I don't doubt the story the guy told of Bryce Hospital, I just think it was probably a crazy person, no reason to be scared