It’s Thriller Thursday Y’all!

RUNNER-UP 1
Morning you guys, this is Allen and I wanted to share a story with you, definitely one of the creepiest and crazy things to ever happen to me. And I want to emphasize everything about this story is true. I couldn't make it up if I wanted to.

Let me start off by saying this happened one night at Mark's Mill. Mark's Mill is an old civil war battleground and cemetery between Warren and Fordyce in Southeast Arkansas. More than 200 men died here during the battle, and over 1500 were injured. There was so much death and bloodshed here that the creek cutting through the woods ran red with blood, and most of the dead were never buried, only consumed by the forest. There are several bizarre occurrences folks say happen here–the sounds of troops marching through the woods, ghost lights, phantom gunfire, but the one that will turn a skeptic into a believer is the boom of cannons going off in the dead of night. If you've ever heard a cannon, you know it's nothing like cars backfiring, or smaller guns being shot. No, it's like thunder. It shakes the air around you.

This story starts really late one night a few years ago. It was spring break, and a bunch of my friends were all sitting around at my apartment; somehow we had gotten to telling scary stories. We decided we wanted to go ghost hunting, to  go hike around Mark's Mill, hoping for something creepy to happen–little did we know, we would find what we were looking for and so much more. We loaded up in two vehicles and made the drive out to the Mill. The cemetery is tucked into the woods down a dirt road off the highway, void of cellphone signal, and it wasn't long after we piled out of our vehicles that the paranormal activity began.

The night was still and quiet as we crept into the graveyard, armed only with our flashlights, but it was soon smashed apart when a thunderous boom tore through the trees. It echoed through the night and it sent chills down my spine. I froze and grabbed the closest arm to me. "Did you hear that?" I asked, and my friend nodded, too stunned to speak. We had all heard it–a cannon going off. Before any of us could say anything, to try and explain it away, that sound exploded again, and we all jumped. The cannons ended up going off four times, back to back. I'll never forget that boom. It shakes you to the core.

Immediately one of the guys wanted to leave, but we pressed on. We hiked through the cemetery, nearly holding our breath in anticipation for something else to happen, when one of the girls noticed a sign pointing to the nature trail. "Let's go down it," she said; she was hoping it would be even creepier in the dark of the woods. I'm not afraid to say I was too chicken–I wasn't just afraid of finding a Confederate ghost, but of snakes and whatever else was creeping in crawling in those woods. The group split, with four of us staying behind on my tailgate and four disappearing into the woods.

It seemed like we waited forever, listening for the smallest sign of our friends to return or another ghost noise, before I finally checked my phone (still, no signal). Our friends had been gone for almost thirty minutes! We decided to drive up and down the dirt road, looking for their flashlights in the trees so that we could round them up and go home. It was almost 3am. On our third trip down the road, we still hadn't seen any sign of them, and worry was starting to tickle in the back of my throat when my phone rang. We all jumped and stared at my phone. I picked it up, and it was the girl who had wanted to go into the woods in the first place, but more than that, I still had no signal.

I answered the phone and put it on speaker. "Where are y'all?" I asked. "We're ready to go home."

"Come out into the woods!" She said excitedly.

"No, go back to the car we're ready to go home," I repeated.

She told us again to go out into the woods before the line went dead. We were just rounding the bend where we had first parked and there were our friends, standing around the car.

"What are y'all doing?" I asked after I got out of the truck.

"We've been waiting for you guys, where did y'all go? Were y'all screwing with us?" One of them demanded.

"No we were driving around looking for y'all," I explained, but none of the group believed us. They'd heard people following them and shouting in the trees, and they refused to accept it wasn't us. And they said they couldn't get their car to start. I asked the girl who called why she had told us to come into the woods if they had been waiting for us, and she blinked confused and said she didn't know what I was talking about. She didn't even have any signal, she said.

"No we all heard you I had it on speaker," I told her.

"I didn't call you. Look," she said, and showed me her recent calls. Sure enough, I wasn't on the list.

"Yeah right, you just deleted it from your calls," I told her and pulled up mine to prove her wrong. But when I did, my heart stopped. All the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Someone asked what's wrong, and I showed them–she wasn't on my recent calls, either. According to my phone she had never called.

But that was impossible; we had ALL heard her!! The four of us that had been in my truck were all talking at the same time. Saying that she had called, that we had heard her voice, that we had seen her name on the screen. Suddenly, the headlights on my truck and the headlights on the car came on, and another boom of cannon fire split the night. One of the girls screamed. Lightning fast we all ran to one vehicle or the other thankfully they started up just fine. We left in a cloud of dust, and no one said anything the entire way home. We were all in shock.

It was a long time before I was okay enough to ask anyone who had been there that night if what had happened was real. They agreed with me that they had never experienced anything like it and that for the first time in their life, they like me fully believed in spirits. I've never been back to Mark's Mill and I don't know if I ever will. I don't know if the thing that spoke with my friends voice meant us any harm or was just desperate to reach out and touch someone anyone. I don't know why you can still hear the echoes of a battle that happened there centuries ago. But what I do know is that everything that happened that night was real, that not every ghost story is just a scary story. There are things in the dark strange watching things and when you experience them you will never not believe again.

-Allen

RUNNER-UP 2
I have a 12 year old daughter named Emily. Emily is a tough little girl, she doesn’t let things bother her, she doesn’t get mad easily, she doesn’t get scared easily, she basically just doesn’t show her feelings.
Although she may not seem like a very sensitive kid she seems to always pick up on things most of us choose to overlook, she just doesn’t let it bother her, well most of the time. We have had some abnormal things happen in my home in the past, things moved out of their place, people walking down the hall, dogs growling at things that we could not see. I never mentioned these things to my children of course out of fear of scaring them. The other girls never seemed to notice anything but Emily did, she picked up on everything I did. She would mention things but I always tried to make light of them.
One night a couple months ago I put my kids to bed and finished up things around the house before going to bed myself. I had the hardest time falling asleep that night and once I fell asleep the nightmares that I had still haunt me to this day. I remember waking up to a loud banging noise twice that night but I literally could not get up, it was like I was still dreaming. But that was nothing compared to what Emily experienced that night.
When my alarm went off the next morning it felt like I hadn’t slept at all. I got up and stumbled into the girl’s room and when I opened the door Emily slowly sat up, looked at me and immediately fell to pieces. She ran to me and clung to me like she never had before. For almost an hour she wouldn’t speak, she just held on to me and cried. After calming her down I sat down with Emily and listened to her describe something straight out of a horror movie.
She had fallen asleep with her tv on and she woke up around 3 am and started feeling around for the remote to turn it off.  As she patted around her bed the tv went off. Thinking she had hit the remote she thought nothing else of it and rolled over and closed her eyes. Within a couple of minutes she heard a noise in the closet like someone was moving around, she called out “Mom? Is that you” and the noise stopped.  She laid there for a second and the noise started again this time louder. She said she was too scared to move. The closet door began to open and she heard footsteps coming toward her bed, she turned toward the wall and began to pray. Again the noise stopped, she decided to look and see if anything was there. As she looked toward the closet she saw the back of three tall black figures standing in her room, she said they were so tall they were almost slouched over just to fit into the room, their faces looked like melted skin and their eyes were a fiery red, their arms were long and finger nails even longer. She said they smelled like something dead. As she was looking at them one turned quickly and came toward her at very fast pace but stopped before it reached her bed. She was frozen and couldn’t move. This thing stood over her and squealed a demonic scream at her and began speaking in a language she had never heard. The other two joined in as if they were chanting something and then started moving toward her. She said no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t turn away this time, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, the only thing she could do was close her eyes and begin praying in her head.
This didn’t stop them, the chanting actually got louder. They began to circle her bed, dragging their nails across the sheets on the bed and clawing the walls as they passed. They lifted the end of her bed up and down and shook it as if to get her to fall out but she didn’t move, still frozen there with no other option but to continue to pray. She said all of a sudden the noise stopped but then she felt something press down on the bed, and then on her pillow next to her, as she opened her eyes she was eye to eye with this evil creature, its hot breath on her face, moving her hair with each breath it took. Every once in a while it would growl “Emily” in between breaths. She said Mom I laid with that thing in my bed for hours face to face and I couldn’t move. They left when you opened the door.
I held my daughter a good part of the day vowing to never let her be alone again. I can’t imagine how that child felt laying there with this evil entity. The following weekend as I was packing up her room to move, it was the first time anyone had been in there since the night this happened, I was taking down a picture on her wall and below it was claw marks, just as she described. I then pulled the blankets off the bed only to find the sheets and part of the mattress had been shredded the only piece intact was exactly where she had laid.
I may not have been able to stop those things myself but I thank God I taught my child how to pray or God only knows what they would’ve done to her that night.  The power of God is amazing; they circled all around her but never touched a hair on her head.

WINNER
So it's kind of a long one, no doubt. But it’s the story about the same entity visiting me 3 times over a span of about 15 years of my life. I know it's just a few times, but it’s definitely worth being told.
            I was about 8 or 9 years old the first visit, though until I was old enough to really understand, I didn't know what to make of it. I remember it was a Saturday evening, I was having a sleepover with some friends after a back-to-school party the church had held at the park. My few friends and I were upstairs in my room when I became thirsty and decided to get some juice packs and bring them upstairs. So I head down the steps with haste, trying not to miss out on too much fun. The living room, just below the stairs, had an arrangement of our couch, love seat, and my grandmother's old rocking chair, with the rocking chair facing towards the stairs. I reach the bottom of the stairs and swing around the rail to head towards the kitchen when I notice something out of the corner of my eye. I curiously turn to see the chair slightly rocking. I brush it off and turn around towards the kitchen to get the juice. I'm trying to hold as much Minute Maid grape juice packs in my arms and hurry back upstairs. Halfway up, one slips through my arms and tumbles down the steps. I finish to my room and decide I'll go back for the lost juice pack. I come back to find the juice standing straight up at the end of the stairs, as if perfectly placed there. As a young child I immediately think "how cool!" and make my way to the bottom. I reach down to pick up the juice and while rising up, I notice someone in the rocking chair. I squint my eyes to the individual as the minimal light available coming from the kitchen isn't enough to make out who it was. I could have swore it was my mother, but I knew my mother was upstairs in her bedroom and hadn't come out since last checking on us boys. Intrigued, I ask, "Mom, what are you doing?" From the top of the stairs my mother answers and says, "I was just about to ask you the same thing." I quickly turn to face her. Confused, I return my gaze at the rocking chair to find it empty. I shrugged, and head upstairs with my mom as she checks up on us one more time, and I just continue having fun with my friends until it was time for bed. So, of course, the first visit wasn't bad, and I didn't really think anything of it. That was until the second visit.
            This one happened when I was at least 14. It was the middle of the night extremely early one Friday. I had woken up from feeling very cold. I move a lot in my sleep and it seemed that I had knocked my covers off the bed. I rubbed my eyes and leaned over the right side of my bed to pick up my blankets when I noticed a glare in the far empty corner of the room. Naturally, I looked up and I see what looked like my mother sitting in the corner just staring at me. The moonlight was peaking in the room through a crack in the curtain; my mother's large glasses were reflecting the moonlight into my face. But something inside told me that wasn't my mother. I looked over to the nightstand to catch the time: 3:31 AM. Why would my mother be in my room at this time? Why would she be sitting in the corner of my room? I looked back over to the figure that looked like my mother, still just sitting there. Staring. Slowly, it lifted its hand which looked old, aged, bony, and pale; nothing like my mother's young youthful hands. Its hand was spotlighted by the moonlight and it began to curl its index finger, gesturing me to come closer. I became ill to my stomach, start shaking and slightly began to sweat. I decide to play along, so I set my feet on the ground and slowly stand, moving closer to the figure. The closer I got to it, the colder I felt. The light switch wasn't far, just to the right of the door about 3 feet away from the corner. I quickly reached out for the switch and flip it up, turning the light on. I look to the corner and the figure was gone. At first I figured I was just seeing things, until something had dawned on me: the chair- the rocking chair. There, sitting in the corner of the room, was the living room rocking chair, facing my bed from what was normally an empty corner.
            The most recent incident was just a few months ago. 24 years old now and married in my own house, life was going pretty well. I had long forgotten about the "motherly"-figure I had come across before. But the memories would soon come rushing back again. I had gotten off of work one Friday evening and was extremely tired: I had a long week, my wife was pregnant, and a lot was racing through my mind. I remember my wife and me going to bed around 9 which was almost 2 hours earlier than normal. I woke up several hours later- feeling extremely cold. Shivering, I pick up my phone on the nightstand to check the time: 3:30 AM. I try placing my phone back on the table but somehow missed it completely and dropped to the carpet. I leaned over and picked it up off the floor, and set it on the nightstand. On the nightstand though, there was something I knew I hadn't placed there: a perfectly placed Minute Maid grape juice box, just like the one at my sleepover, standing straight up. With the memories of the first visit almost 15 years ago flooding my head, my heart begins to pound profusely and my stomach begins to turn. I sit up to find, to no surprise, my mother impersonating figure sitting in the furthest corner of my room. I begin to pray, which doesn't seem to be appreciated by the figure. It quickly stands, almost inhumanly fast, glares at me, and begins breathing very heavily. Its hands were just like I remembered: old and pale; wearing my mother's appearance, but lacking her elegant and feminine stance. This thing stood tall, yet hunched over, and stocky. Its arms reaching almost passed its knees were long and thin. Suddenly, it lets out a loud scream, almost like a mythical banshee, and its jaw drops past its shoulders. This only makes me pray harder. After at least a couple minutes of screaming it silenced and stared at me, slowly titling its head. Its dark eyes met with mine; I could feel it look right into my soul. I felt nothing but fear, evil, and death in its eyes. In the amount of time it took me to blink, the entity had moved to my wife's side of the bed. It leaned over my wife and began growling. My mother's appearance was vaguely there, now replaced by a disfigured version of her. The creature began reaching for my wife, but it was almost like it couldn't touch her. Everything was happening so fast. I tried praying louder, but my voice was gone and was only a whisper now. The prayer seemed to be working because the creature was now screaming and pulling its hair, almost like it was being burned. By now I am backed up against the wall behind my bed, but I do not stop praying. What seemed to be hours of me praying and the creature suffering yet trying to fight towards my wife, it finally stopped. The figure shut up, glared at me with it's now glowing blood-red eyes, and vanished into the floor. It was gone. I wake up my wife so we can pray, and without hesitation or question she joins me. Soon after I get up so I can turn the light on and get a drink of water. Before I leave the room, my wife whispers my name. I turn to find her staring at the corner of the room. There, while supposed to be in my mother's living room, sat my grandmother's old rocking chair facing our bed.