We continue this Monday with some ghost stories from a contest hosted by Jim Harold regarding his new book on his show Paranormal Podcast. New Stories will continue to be featured into October! Also look for the winning story which is part of the finished book.
Mr. Jingle submitted by ROBERT
On Christmas Eve, 1935, Mr. Jingle, the old sexton at our church, went to sleep waiting for Santa and never woke up. He was found Christmas Day by my grandfather (my mother’s father) when he was looking for Mr. Jingle to open the church. It was a sad holiday. A frantic search for his keys ensued since services were to begin shortly, but no one could find them. If the keys were lost this would mean that many of the locks would have to be broken and replaced, a costly endeavor during the Great Depression.
My grandfather, somewhat angered by the situation, stood in the middle of the old sexton’s room and said out loud, “Well Mr. Jingle, if you don’t bring me those keys these locks will have to be broken and this will cost our church a lot of money. You know we will miss you but I promise not to chew, cuss, or carouse, and I will be honest in everything dealing with the church!” My mother then heard a familiar sound of keys rattling. Her father heard it, too, and when my mother was about to say something her father said, “Quiet dear, I think Mr. Jingle believes us now.” At that moment the keys dropped from a bookcase, which startled both of them.
The Night The Hounds Came submitted by RANDI
This story occurred at
in the summer of 2003. My family owned a cabin there and two of my guy friends,
Brad and Chris, and I decided to go out for the weekend. The cabin originally
belonged to my grandma Candle
Lake, Saskatchewan, Canada .
She purchased the land and built the cabin there. When she passed, it was left
to my father. So my family had been the only occupants of that cabin up
until that point. Lydia
It was a relatively quiet evening. There was a thunderstorm brewing across the lake and we were just sitting around relaxing, playing a board game and having a couple of drinks. I remember thinking it was odd for it to be so quiet and for there to be so few people at the lake on a nice weekend. The layout of the cabin was very open. You entered through the kitchen and to the left of that was a long, open room that was the living room. There was a couch against the far wall in the sitting area with a large chair and table and a television, as well.
I was sitting on the couch with my back to the wall when all of a sudden the little chimes that were hanging above the table started to ring and I got this feeling of eyes boring into my back. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up and a shiver crawled up my spine. I looked at my friend Brad and said, “Did you feel that, too?” He replied, “Yes, I did.”
I could tell that he had felt it too by the look on his face.
Brad and I have always been very perceptive about things of a paranormal nature; he and I would always go ghost hunting together and we both were extremely aware of “presences.” Our friend Chris, however, was never one who was very in tune with psychic or paranormal phenomena. At this point, Chris said, “Yes! I feel it too! It’s coming from over there!” as he pointed to the lake. Brad and I informed him he was feeling the energy from the storm and not what we were feeling. We abandoned our game and began to check the doors and windows of the cabin to make sure they were locked and secure. I had a feeling of pure terror that would not go away. Once the doors were checked we tried to go back to our board game; however, the strange energy would not dissipate. Neither would the eyes boring into my back every time I sat on the couch.
I remember feeling very uneasy and terrified. We decided to abandon the game and watch the storm from the big picture window in the living room. The storm had moved across the lake and was now raging outside. The wind whipped and howled and the fork lightning lit up the sky. The rain pelted down, giving everything a hazy look to it. As we looked out, I saw a large, black figure on the grassy part just before the beach. It looked like a large dog that had gotten loose from someone’s yard. As it turned to face us, the hair on the back of my neck and arms stood straight up—I saw a great big pair of glowing red eyes!
I was frozen with fear. I heard Brad whisper, “What the hell…?” and then he bolted up and ran out the door. I screamed at him not to go. I didn’t want to leave the cabin! I had the feeling that as long as we were in the cabin we were safe. I told Chris to stay where he was and I ran outside on the deck calling to Brad to come back inside. While I was out there I felt another evil energy to my left. I peeked around the corner of the cabin and there by the wall was another hell hound. It was huge and it wouldn’t take his red eyes off me. It was right on the other side of the wall where I had been sitting on the couch. I knew it was those red eyes that had been boring through the wall into my back. I pulled my gaze away and immediately began screaming at Brad again to hurry up and get inside. He was standing on the grassy area screaming at the other hound.
After what seemed like an eternity he turned around and headed back into the cabin. I slammed the door behind him and locked it. All I could feel was a sense of evil and dread encircling the cabin. It lasted for quite a while, too. The feeling did not dissipate for a number of hours. It was the wee morning hours before I was able to fall asleep.
The next day I went outside and surveyed the yard. I found no disturbances in the dirt beside the cabin where I saw the hound. No paw prints or anything. No lingering negative energies. It was just bizarre. To be safe I went inside the cabin and grabbed a box of salt. I returned to the spot where I saw the hound beside the cabin and made a protective circle around it. That was the one and only time I’ve ever seen a hell hound. I don’t know what it was that drew them that night, if it was the storm or something paranormal. All I know is that they were terrifying and I never want to see them again.