Supernatural Experiences

[gothicusmaximus]

It so happened that my father had gone to Capua to attend to some odds
and ends of business and I seized the opportunity, and persuaded a guest
of the house to accompany me as far as the fifth mile-stone. He was a
soldier, and as brave as the very devil. We set out about cock-crow, the
moon was shining as bright as midday, and came to where the tombstones
are. My man stepped aside amongst them, but I sat down, singing, and
commenced to count them up. When I looked around for my companion, he
had stripped himself and piled his clothes by the side of the road. My
heart was in my mouth, and I sat there while he pissed a ring around them
and was suddenly turned into a wolf! Now don't think I'm joking, I
wouldn't lie for any amount of money, but as I was saying, he commenced
to howl after he was turned into a wolf, and ran away into the forest.
I didn't know where I was for a minute or two, then I went to his
clothes, to pick them up, and damned if they hadn't turned to stone! Was
ever anyone nearer dead from fright than me? Then I whipped out my sword
and cut every shadow along the road to bits, till I came to the house of
my mistress. I looked like a ghost when I went in, and I nearly slipped
my wind. The sweat was pouring down my crotch, my eyes were staring, and
I could hardly be brought around. My Melissa wondered why I was out so
late. "Oh, if you'd only come sooner," she said, "you could have helped
us: a wolf broke into the folds and attacked the sheep, bleeding them
like a butcher. But he didn't get the laugh on me, even if he did get
away, for one of the slaves ran his neck through with a spear!" I
couldn't keep my eyes shut any longer when I heard that, and as soon as
it grew light, I rushed back to our Gaius' house like an innkeeper beaten
out of his bill, and when I came to the place where the clothes had been
turned into stone, there was nothing but a pool of blood! And moreover,
when I got home, my soldier was lying in bed, like an ox, and a doctor
was dressing his neck! I knew then that he was a werewolf, and after
that, I couldn't have eaten a crumb of bread with him, no, not if you had
killed me. Others can think what they please about this, but as for me,
I hope your geniuses will all get after me if I lie.

[korinna5555]

That was in my Latin book last year..

[JCC]

Once, I bade a slave lie before me, and as I masturbated whilst staring at her breasts, she transformed into the beautiful Venus, and I ejaculated into her godly oral orifice. When she transformed back into the slave she seemed rather morose, and kept complaining of a soreness in the eye, accusing ME of misfiring slightly! Who knew that being possessed by a god would make someone quite so bold?

[gothicusmaximus]

Originally Posted by korinna5555

That was in my Latin book last year..

Then you are well versed in Lingua Latina, your children will be spared the cost of a tutor. Also from the looks of you, your family has no want of money. Do you perhaps have a more attractive sister of cognate erudition?

[JCC]

I am sure that Korinna feels the sting of that retort! By Jove, Maximus, you have a razor-sharp wit. If only I had papyrus to record your comments and treasure them.

[korinna5555]

Originally Posted by naughtiusmaximus

Then you are well versed in Lingua Latina, your children will be spared the cost of a tutor. Also from the looks of you, your family has no want of money. Do you perhaps have a more attractive sister of cognate erudition?

ROMANI ITE DOMUM!

[lolz]

[TrivialMorose]

Bump, bump, bump, bump...

[TrivialMorose]

So, I'm finally starting to tackle this thread. To make the experience less passive and more aggressive, I decided to do a short, sucky review of each tall tale presented here.

So, the first tale in the opening post... It has actually already been numerous hours since I read it, and I'm reviewing it from my feeble memory, so, cry me a river if I get something wrong... As if anything matters... As if anyone even reads this...

It was a really stupid story. It had just about the lamest, most boring ghosts I could think of. And then someone goes and "does research on the house" just like in the movies. What badly written, childish drivel.

The most relevant thing about the story is the point raised by our wonderful Original Ophelia already in the year minus one or something, about how the protagonist of this story for no real reason forces her friend to commit a DUI offense. And apparently while there's some special crackdown going on, no less! So the protagonist not only wants to endanger public safety, she also wants her friend to get arrested! Which leads us right into the second most relevant thing in the whole story, which is that the protagonist absolutely loathes all her friends who are just a bunch of child molesters anyway.

I give it two out of five stars, I guess. Pretty funny if it wasn't so bad.

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by Opteron_Man

When my cat died, I could have sworn that I saw her laying on the couch.
She was there then I never saw her again.

But that means nothing really. I was so sad that she died, that I imagined her.

This. Very often at my parents' house I see glimpses of the many pets who died there. Just my brains thinking they should be there, and trying their best to fill the voids, like they always do, I suppose. I don't think brains can really process death.

Not much of a story, but at least it wasn't anything ridiculous, just sentimental. I'm gonna give it a three star rating.

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by eternalcrimson

I didn't know any better that time and I should have probably left that detail out when recounting this.

Oh, no, if you'd left that detail out, you'd only gotten a one star review now. Dodged a real bullet there, buddy!

[TrivialMorose]

Oh, yeah, by the way
*disclaimer*
I'm not trying to be mean here anywhere. I don't mean to offend anyone. Everything I write, I write with love. I know that my humor is strange, that I am easy to misunderstand, I've gotten into trouble because of it all my life, but regardless, I'm not into self-censuring. Eat my sword of love, and try to chill.

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by roserougesang

Bringing everything back on topic......

I'm not sure if you'd call this supernatural but here goes.

My house is a modernized Victorian townhouse with a big room in the front near the staircase where we have a piano. When I was younger I was always unnerved by that room at night and would dash past that room and up the stairs as fast as I could. I later found out that that room was used for a funeral wake for the previous owner. That explained the eerie feeling XD

Sounds like a cool house. The story was fine. Short and sweet, I guess. Four out of five inverted pentagrams.

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by eternalcrimson

Since we are confessing I grew up with a alcoholic father (and family in general) too. I was also sexually abused by a neighbor and teachers at school. I know the pain that it brings but that is no reason to go out and attack people. I have tremendous disdain for people that are alcoholics but I would not past judgement either.

As humans we are all allowed to make mistakes. After all it's from mistakes that make us grow. I usually don't like using bibliacal quotes but "Judge not lest ye be judge and cast the fisrt stone".

Ah, so the protagonist in the first story had herself been molested by a whole slew of different people. Makes sense then, the crowd she would later hang out with...

From the second page of this thread I'm starting to learn that alcoholism is supernatural.

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by KontanKarite

Several years ago, in what may have been over a decade, a boy had a dream.

In the dream, he saw a beautiful girl. She was quiet, shy, and possessed an earthy charm that hinted at a secret strength that would compel him to be only the greatest he could ever be. In her smile and in her embrace, the fibers of the uncertain and cold world would melt away and reveal the only truths worth knowing.

He awoke that next day finding it difficult to remember the dream in all of her entirety but was content with the feeling of warmth and security that it left him feeling for the day... or for the rest of his days since.

Over a decade ago, a girl with dreams and desire sought to create in words and in ink, the perfect man.

He was not overly tall, his hair was dark and shaved close to the sides in the shape of a fin and all of his attire was made in some way by his own hands. He was a fine man. One who feared nothing and when he did fear, he would find the courage to endure what must be done. She knew he would love her through the good and the bad, forever and ever. He was her protector and he was her liberator.

On one magical night, a boy met a girl in a speak easy bar. The boy thought little of her at first. Sure, she had a nice, down to earth kind of charm and was genuinely friendly and she thought he a silly boy in his flamboyant get ups, but she found him agreeable underneath his translucent glamor. He asked her for an audience for a night and she accepted.

On that night, the boy and the girl had a black date. Djarum Blacks and Jack Daniel's Black was shared amongst the two. As the night progressed, he went home with her. They both noticed something curious about that day and night. They were being followed by hawks and crows and whenever they had arrived anywhere in the city, the bells would toll, signaling their arrival.

Upon arrival into her room, the boy noticed HIS pocket watch laying on a nearby night stand.

"My pocket watch... How did you get that?", he inquired.

"It's not yours. I got that pocket watch a long time ago while living in England.", she replied.

"Strange... I have this exact watch. The very exact same one.", He pulled it out of his pocket and indeed, it was the exact same watch, mark for mark and shape for shape. In the distance, church bells rang and the wind started to pick up. They found solace and comfort in each others arms that night.

Days would go on and the boy started feeling a strange tug of deja vu. He knew her from somewhere before. He knew her longer than a trifle few days. Somehow, he was compelled to feel strongly for her despite all logic and reason. He knew of her. He knew she would only inspire the best in him and he did not falter in his honor. Autonomy and love was his only intentions.

In the following weeks, the boy grew to be the man he should be and in so, gained more than just his manhood, but his faith had returned to him. Once again, magic was in his life. The universe and the world was once again, constructed of whispers and silent truths, as the good book had said, "In the beginning, there was the word."

One day, the girl sought to show him something she had been meaning to for a while. She dug through her old books and fairy writings. In the pile, she produced a small excerpt of a book she was writing and within the words and the pictures, there was a perfect likeness to the boy. It was the writings of her perfect man. Every detail described him perfectly.

"I must admit something to you, sweetheart. I've known of you for over a decade. I have dreamed of you. You are the girl in my dreams who inspires me to do good, who compels me to be the best I can be. I love you."

There are other details in the story that I don't care to elaborate on right now and even finer details on what I have already said. In short, in the story, there is also a doll made by the girl that was charged with nothing but her love and benevolence and a desperate and selfish atheist sorcerer who bound the doll in black magic and banished all the good she had put into it, no doubt bringing a manifestation, the fall of his beloved friend from the graces of his beloved.

Some day, I may elaborate on this short and simple narrative. But as far as super natural goes, I can think of nothing more super natural than the last two months of my life.

I didn't fancy the fairy tale style much, I think some other form would have worked better here, because the story itself was pretty intriguing. But it was done a disservice, methinks, when it was cut too short. I felt the elaborations about the doll and sorcerer and all would have been necessary inclusions. Now the overall feeling was unfinished. I wanted more. I already had suspicions and theories, and would have wanted to have known if I was even in the right ballpark with them.
Regardless, four mystic pentacles out of five. Not too shabby.

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by Denchera

I think there might be a ghost in my bedroom. Whenever I'm sleeping, at certain times weird things start happening. The first time the door next to me opened by itself, I was sure it wasn't my cat because I looked on the ground. Then at night I hear weird noises inside my walls. I thought it was a rat, but it was too loud to be one. Then when the lights were off and I was on my Comp, a white figure just walked right in front of it. I don't think much of it, but I'd at least like to know what's going on here.

This sounded like a joke that I didn't really get, but it had certain charm anyway. I liked the buildup from cat to rat to a white thing right in his face. At least it sounded like it was right in his face, the wording was a bit unclear.
I'll give it three neutron-stars.

[NotTrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by gothicusmaximus

It so happened that my father had gone to Capua to attend to some odds
and ends of business and I seized the opportunity, and persuaded a guest
of the house to accompany me as far as the fifth mile-stone. He was a
soldier, and as brave as the very devil. We set out about cock-crow, the
moon was shining as bright as midday, and came to where the tombstones
are. My man stepped aside amongst them, but I sat down, singing, and
commenced to count them up. When I looked around for my companion, he
had stripped himself and piled his clothes by the side of the road. My
heart was in my mouth, and I sat there while he pissed a ring around them
and was suddenly turned into a wolf! Now don't think I'm joking, I
wouldn't lie for any amount of money, but as I was saying, he commenced
to howl after he was turned into a wolf, and ran away into the forest.
I didn't know where I was for a minute or two, then I went to his
clothes, to pick them up, and damned if they hadn't turned to stone! Was
ever anyone nearer dead from fright than me? Then I whipped out my sword
and cut every shadow along the road to bits, till I came to the house of
my mistress. I looked like a ghost when I went in, and I nearly slipped
my wind. The sweat was pouring down my crotch, my eyes were staring, and
I could hardly be brought around. My Melissa wondered why I was out so
late. "Oh, if you'd only come sooner," she said, "you could have helped
us: a wolf broke into the folds and attacked the sheep, bleeding them
like a butcher. But he didn't get the laugh on me, even if he did get
away, for one of the slaves ran his neck through with a spear!" I
couldn't keep my eyes shut any longer when I heard that, and as soon as
it grew light, I rushed back to our Gaius' house like an innkeeper beaten
out of his bill, and when I came to the place where the clothes had been
turned into stone, there was nothing but a pool of blood! And moreover,
when I got home, my soldier was lying in bed, like an ox, and a doctor
was dressing his neck! I knew then that he was a werewolf, and after
that, I couldn't have eaten a crumb of bread with him, no, not if you had
killed me. Others can think what they please about this, but as for me,
I hope your geniuses will all get after me if I lie.

This was excellent. A perfect classic werewolf story, very well and pleasantly written. I am pretty sure I've read the exact same story, written with slightly different words, in some old book of werewolves, but that did nothing to diminish the immense enjoyment I got out of this piece.

A full five Solomon's seals for you, sir! Well done!

[NotTrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by JCC

Once, I bade a slave lie before me, and as I masturbated whilst staring at her breasts, she transformed into the beautiful Venus, and I ejaculated into her godly oral orifice. When she transformed back into the slave she seemed rather morose, and kept complaining of a soreness in the eye, accusing ME of misfiring slightly! Who knew that being possessed by a god would make someone quite so bold?

Another good one! A little bit of a raunchy joke.

My favorite line: "she seemed rather morose"

Five stars ripped from the eye of Lucifer.

Since this was the final piece on offer, it's time to summarize this reading experience:
This was on okay sad bunch of tall tales, but as far as paranormal experiences... this thread was an utter bust.
I would warmly recommend this thread to sad losers who have nothing else to do.
Now what on earth am I gonna do next?

[UnderwaterOphelia]

tha duckman?

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by UnderwaterOphelia

tha duckman?

that's odd.

[shadowynne]

The werewolf tale and the fairytale lovers both have potential.

As a side note anyone have anything close to a supernatural experience?

[TrivialMorose]

Originally Posted by shadowynne

The werewolf tale and the fairytale lovers both have potential.

As a side note anyone have anything close to a supernatural experience?

Most weird experiences, which at times I have attributed to the supernatural (and still might), can always be explained by either hallucinations, unlikely coincidences, or just crazy people, and therefore it would feel silly to include them in this thread. And indeed, those hallucinatory encounters, events or even communications would even SOUND silly when recounted.
But I do have one that isn’t too silly and has me stumped for a satisfactory explanation.
This is…

The Mystifying Case of the Opening Door

The setting was an old house, built well over a hundred years ago. I was sitting alone in a room, just minding my own business, facing away from a locked door that leads to a closet. Then, all of a sudden, I heard the clatter of the lock, and I turned around in time to see the door swing open.
It even seemed to open with deliberation, the difference in force from a door which is opened, to a door which merely opens on its own accord. But no one was there. No one stepped through.

My immediate thoughts were:

How cool—but how utterly boring, since it’s obviously nothing but the old wood having bent the deadbolt from its place.
I went and shut the door.

The End.

It happened a long time ago, but to this day, I have no other ideas about what natural force could be the cause.
But honestly, bending wood? Way to go, champ.
I feel like that explanation holds even less water, than if a ghost dressed in a punctured condom did it, and I think you would agree with me.
Neither the door nor the lock are anything flimsy or shoddy. Everything is completely flush, there are no lovecraftian angles at play here, the deadbolt is actually pretty brutal sized and very heavy.
It would have to be quite an unbelievable twist of wood that would make an effect, and even push it past the steel strike plate.
So, no. My initial theory about bending wood was as silly as anything.
Also, whatever force caused the lock to come undone and the door swing open, never repeated itself. I think this also speaks against any qu/ ee/ r wood being the perpetrator.

Hallucination this was not, it affected a tangible object. Coincidences have no room in this case. And I have had enough altered states experiences to almost guarantee that this was not one of those, but that can never be satisfactorily 100% ruled out.
Of course, from any other persons point of view, the obvious answer here would then be fabrication, that I am simply a liar. Only I personally can rule that out as well. You can only take my word for it.

And here are some pictures of the exact lock in question, that one day opened all by itself(?).