Tuesday, October 8, 2013

2013 Samhain Giveaway

Samhain is almost here, so it is time for a giveaway! This is what is up for grabs for the 2013 Samhain giveaway...



  • Ancestor Jar Candle
  • Witchy Flask
  • Ancestor Charm Bottle
  •  Barm Brack Kit
  • Samhain Herbal Blend
  • Tech Duinn Incense
  • Dark Daughter Incense
  • Immrama Incense
  • Ancestral Graveyard Dirt
  • Dark Arts Wortcunning Powder

Ancestor Jar Candle



This is a hand poured black beeswax candle in a pretty mason jar containing wormwood from my garden, Ancestral graveyard dirt, and scented with sandalwood essential oil. Tied around it is a black ribbon with a pretty skeleton key.

Witchy Flask


A stainless steal flask for your spirited drinks when out on a haunt on a chilly Samhain eve!

 Ancestor Bottle Charm

 

I made this wee charm bottle for connecting with Ancestors and can either be carried on your person or left on an Ancestral shrine/altar. Inside the corked bottle is Ancestral graveyard dirt, dandelion root, mullein seeds, periwinkle flowers, bittersweet nightshade berries, tansy flowers, and poppy seeds. The bottle was sealed with black beeswax and has a little skull tied to it with black string.



I purchased this adorable barm brack kit from From Home Spun Ireland, which comes with a recipe, charms to go inside your cake, a pack of Barry's Tea, and a little pouch that say Oíche Shamhna on it. Samhain barm brack {an Irish fruit bread} charms would be baked inside the bread, which were used to predict what to expect in the year ahead. To find out more head on over to the Home Spun Ireland listing.

Samhain Herbal Blend

 
Use this intoxicating herbal blend to scent your Samhain festivities as a simmer potpourri, as an offering, or in your Samhain spellwork. This blend contains dried local apples, mugwort, cedar and wormwood from my garden, along with patchouli, sandalwood and vetiver.


 
Tech Duinn, or the House of Donn is one of the places in Irish lore where the deceased go to. This loose incense has a combination of plant materials that are appropriate as a burnt offering to the Beloved and Mighty Dead, including sweet smelling sandalwood. The winner will receive 1/2 ounce in a baggie.
 
 
 
This loose incense is a mixture that I created to give as a burnt offering to the Irish Goddess Macha, and has various plant materials associated with divination, sorcery and battles. The most notable smell is the heady scent of wormwood. The winner will receive 1/2 ounce in a baggie.
 
 
 Named for the immrama, or the voyages to the Otherworlds found in Irish mythology, this incense has been crafted for travel, both in this world and the spirit realms. Burn for protection whether journeying by spirit, land, sky, or sea. It contains mugwort, often used in dream work and spirit travel, as well as plants traditionally associated with safe travels in Gaelic lore, yarrow, comfrey and birch. {partial ingredient list}. The winner will receive 1/2 ounce in a baggie.
 
 

A 1/2 cup of sifted graveyard dirt that came from the graves of some of my Ancestors in a small Northern Ontario village cemetery. For Ancestor & Chthonic Deity rituals, or workings involving divination, protection and hexing.
 
 
 
This is a nourishing offering powder for plants that are entheogens, or associated with death, divination, cursing, ancestors, chthonic deities, and spirit travel.

Use as an offering to plants that you harvest from in the wild, plants in your garden or houseplants. To use sprinkle on top of the soil at the base of the plant and then water, use as a fertilizer tea, or work in the soil before planting seeds, transplanting or repotting.
 
The winner will receive 1 ounce in a baggie.
 
How to Enter the Giveaway
 
For those who are interested in entering, all you need to do is share a spooky story {this could be something that happened to you, someone you know, a legend from your area, or a favourite piece of folklore}. All entries must be submitted to the comment section of this post; you can either just type it out there or link to a video or blog entry that is posted elsewhere. Previously some folks were having issues posting in my comment section, so I will accept entries that are emailed to me {unfetteredwood at yahoo dot ca} and I will post them in the comment section, along with listing who the name of the person it is for.  The winner will be drawn at random right after the closing date. Below you will see the vitals:
  1. Only one entry per person.
  2. Entrants must be 18 years or older.
  3. The giveaway is open for all countries.
  4. To enter you are not obligated to purchase anything from me or to subscribe to any of my social media haunts.
  5. All entries must be submitted by Sunday October 20th at 3pm EST.
  6. The winner will need to provide a mailing address to receive their pretties. The information provided will not be used for any other purpose than to receive their winnings. The information will not be given to anyone else, or sold to a third party.

 
*********
 
Good luck to all of you who enter!
 
Sláinte!
 
Laurel

21 comments:

  1. Ok. Spooky story ~ When I was around the age of 11 or 12, a few girls from the neighborhood were at one of the girls homes. Parents were at work and she had a Ouija Board. None of us had ever used one before, let alone know what it was. But we all sat down on the floor and she explained how to use to us that didn't know. Lightly put your fingers on the planchette and someone askes questions. One of the girls got scared before we did anything, so she was sitting on the bed. The rest of us put our fingers on the planchette and Kim (the girl whose house we were at) started to ask questions about her dog that died earlier in the year. I don't remember the dog's name or how many questions she had asked, but within minutes of her asking about her dog, we all hear the dog scratching at her door to be let in. We all look at each other, wondering who will be brave enough to get up and open the door. Mary (the first girl to get scared) got up from the bed and opened up the door. No One was there, so she shut it again. Soon the scratching started again. Same thing, Mary opened the door. By now, everyone was getting jumpy. We just put her Ouija board away. We never did find out what was making those scratching sounds, and we never talked about it either!! EVER!.

    Sorry, don't know how to put up a profile on here, so I will sign this.

    Terri/LadSorce

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh I've got one I found on this Tumblr : http://fairytalesarenotforkids.tumblr.com/
    It's an Icelandic tale, about a girl who turned in her grave ! Love this kind of stories :D


    On a farm in the western district of Alptamyra, in the nineteenth century, there lived two brothers and a sister; there was nobody but themselves to work on the farm. Now, their lands lay in such a way that they had to cross a certain fjord or bay in order to reach their meadows. One evening as they were all three three returning, the ferried a load of hay across with them, and loaded the boat so fully that there was nowhere for the girl to sit except right at the stern, so that they brothers’ view of their sister was obscured by the pile of hay. In this manner they crossed the fjord, and came to land at the most convenient spot. But when the brothers went to unload the boat, they found the girl had disappeared; she had fallen overboard. As the evening had grown very dark, they took no steps to search for her, being certain that she would never be found alive.

    So they went home, and slept. That night, one of the brothers dreamed of her; he thought that she came to him in his sleep and showed him where to look for her. Next morning the brothers both went out in the boat to search, and they drew her body from the water at the very spot where she herself had pointed out in the dream. After this she was made ready for burial, and laid to rest in the churchyard.

    Now it so happened that this girl had been in love with a man in the neighbourhood, but he had refused to take any notice of her. After her death, this man started having nightmares about her, and complained of this. Not long after this same man disappeared one day, and nobody knew what had become of him. A band of men went out to look for him, and he was found down on the beach at the foot of some high cliffs, all battered and crushed. The general assumption was that the girl must have walked, and must have thrown him over the cliff, and so killed him. As soon as this rumour reached them, her brothers went and dug her up, and when they opened the coffin they found there was indeed something wrong.

    The girl had turned round inside it, and was now lying face down.

    They did not like the look of this at all, so not only did they turn her the right round, they also drove two sharp steel nails into the soles of her feet, and closed the coffin up again and went home. After this, there was no more sign that their sister went wandering about.

    ReplyDelete
  3. It was Samhain and my coven was waiting for a member to come before having our ritual. He had specifically called the day before and stated that he would be there so we were surprised that he didn't show up. Finally, we gave up on him and began our ritual. While we were in circle, I kept feeling this tickling stroking on my right hand. I thought maybe it was a stray cobweb or something. Then a candle rose straight up out of it's holder on the altar, moved horizontally and then dropped to the floor. No one was near it. Well, it was certainly unusual but we didn't really know what to think about it. Later that night, the wife of the fellow we had been waiting for called and said that he had just been found in his car - that he was dead. After hearing that, we could only presume he made it to ritual after all.

    ReplyDelete
  4. This entry is from Devorah:

    "Here's a ghost story I found through my Japanese Language studies. :)

    "Bancho sara-yashiki (The Story of Okiku)"

    http://japanese.about.com/library/weekly/aa102800.htm

    -Devorah"

    ReplyDelete
  5. Okay, spooky story. This is one of my favorites because it's very clever and I read it to my friends at least once every year.

    I live in Osaka, Japan and often use the subway to go to work in the morning. One day, when I was waiting for the train, I noticed a homeless man standing in a corner of the subway station, muttering to himself as people passed by. He was holding out a cup and seemed to be begging for spare change.
    A fat woman passed by the homeless man and I distinctly heard him say, “Pig.”

    Wow, I thought to myself. This homeless man is insulting people and he still expects them to give him money?

    Then a tall businessman went by and the homeless guy muttered, “Human.”

    Human? I can’t argue with that. Obviously, he was human.

    The next day, I arrived early at the subway station and had some time to kill, so I decided to stand close to the homeless man and listen to his strange mutterings.

    A thin, haggard-looking man passed in front of him and I heard the homeless guy mutter, “Cow.”

    Cow? I thought. The man was much too skinny to be a cow. He looked more like a turkey or a chicken to me.

    A minute or so later, a fat man went by and the homeless man said, “Potato.”

    Potato? I was under the impression that he called all fat people “Pig”.

    That day, at work, I couldn’t stop thinking about the homeless man and his puzzling behavior. I kept trying to find some logic or pattern in what he was muttering.

    Perhaps he has some kind of psychic ability, I thought. Maybe he knows what these people were in a previous life. In Japan, many people believe in reincarnation.

    I observed the homeless man many times and began to think my theory was right. I often heard him calling people things like “Rabbit” or “Onion” or “Sheep” or “Tomato”.

    One day, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to ask him what was going on.

    As I walked up to him, he looked at me and said “Bread.”

    I tossed some money into his cup and asked him if he had some kind of psychic ability.

    The homeless man smiled and said, “Yes, indeed. I do have a psychic ability. It is an ability I obtained years ago. But it is not what you might expect. I can’t tell the future or read minds or anything like that.”

    “Then what is your ability?” I asked eagerly.

    “The ability is merely to know the last thing somebody ate.” he said.

    I laughed because I realized he was right. He said “Bread.” The last thing I had eaten for breakfast that day was toast. I walked away shaking my head. Of all the psychic abilities someone could have, that one must be the most useless.

    Think about what might be strange about that story....

    ReplyDelete
  6. It's been almost 40 years. I have never talked about this day with anyone, not even my sisters or my best friend. This is the hardest story to write, tbh. But when I saw the contest, this was the first thing I thought of so I took it as a sign from the Universe that it was time to let it go, to let it out. So here we are, with me shaking so bad that I can barely type.

    My Story (Pt. 1)

    It was Halloween, in the afternoon. We were going to be brave enough to knock on her door, today of all days. The old woman. The witch. I was only 9 and like most kids, the idea of meeting her was the most exciting thing we could think of and we had decided the day had come.

    We walked home from school with a determined attitude, the four of us, ready to take on the world. Ready to brave the witch!Back then, I was a follower, and the leader of our little band of witch hunters was named Susan. Becky, Darlene and I looked to her for guidance on everything and once we reached the old woman's gate, I remember being scared but feeling electrified at the same time, looking to her for our next move.

    She nodded to us all and opened the gate. One by one we filed into the overgrown yard; each step even more daunting than the last. I remember us giggling a lot, but I think it was more from nerves than anything funny. Susan knocked. The old woman answered the door with a smile. She looked so frail yet when you looked into her eyes there was a strength that scared us all. We were so young and silly. I can see her in my mind now and I can't help but think how ridiculous I was to be so afraid of such a nice woman. But then I remember the mirror and my blood runs cold; I'm nine again and I am afraid.
    She invited us in. We were so brave. LOL I remember her house was filled with stacks of newspapers in the front hall. The smell was like a really old library. I actually liked it. There were cats everywhere. Most of them black. I was terrified and joyfully curious at the same time. I think we all were.

    She offered us all some tea. None of us wanted to say no to the witch, so we filed into her kitchen after her. I'm not sure what the tea was but it tasted rank. There was not enough sugar in the world to give this tea any flavor other than YUCK! But like I said, who says no to a witch?

    At this point (and I can't figure out if I was stupid or brave) I asked her if she was a witch. She laughed and told us that she was a medicine woman. None of us knew what that was but no one asked for an explanation. She asked us if we wanted to see what she could do. Again, not sure if this was bravery or stupidity, but we all said yes.

    (Pt 2 in next comment as the site won't let me post it all in one!)

    ReplyDelete
  7. My Story (Pt 2)

    She took us to a darkened room with nothing in it but a huge mirror leaning against an old desk. She told us that if we wanted to see, we had to eat some candy. She gave us each some little mint thing that tasted bitter but also like honey. Again I say, stupid or brave... I'll leave you to decide.

    She had us sit in a semi circle facing the mirror, she was in the center. She told us she was going to show us our futures and that our guides would come and talk to us. She started chanting then motioned for us to copy her so we did. Eventually the room started getting almost foggy, like there was a frame of mist around my eyes. Everywhere I looked, only the center was clear. My friends looked sleepy to me and somehow, the woman was gone, but we could still hear her talking to us. she had us each sit in front of the mirror, chanting into it. One of us asked if we were playing "Bloody Mary," but the old woman just laughed and said that THAT was just a game, and THIS was our destiny.

    One by one, we sat in front of the mirror. I don't remember mine or anyone elses "reading" but Becky's. She was last.

    Actually, when I think real hard about it and as I type this, I see a woman's face looking back at me; hear her voice talking to me, so she may have been MY vision. I just can't see it though. But after that day, I dreamed over and over that I was killed in a car accident, driving a white car with two children in the back: a boy and a baby girl in a car seat. We went over a cliff on a very sharp turn in the mountains. I was 36 in the dream. I sometimes wonder if that dream WAS part my vision from that day.

    My 36th year was a very scary time for me, btw! I owned a white car, had a little boy and was pregnant with what I thought was a little girl. I actually gave birth to another boy and obviously survived that year with no accidents. :-) Somehow, I believe I changed my fate.

    Mackena Kristine Lannes

    Anyway, back to my story:

    She (Becky) sat in front of the mirror and we all continued chanting. Suddenly an old man's face came up into the mirror. Was was very ancient looking and had an indian headdress on. He looked at us all one by one, as if assessing us, but he eventually focused on Becky. He spoke in another language but somehow we understood him. He told Becky that she was going to die soon. That it was unavaoidable. He spoke of a lot of things, but I don't remember any of it now. Just that Becky was going to die. When you are eight, who thinks of death?

    So at that point, we all screamed and ran out crying. The old woman was gone. She was just gone. We ran. We ran for a very long time. We made a vow never to talk about what happened to anyone.

    You'd think that was the end of it all, but no... A week or so later, Becky was riding her bike and was struck down by a car. She died instantly. After that, we all stopped being friends. It felt, to me anyway, that we had been cursed and we were just afraid to know each other anymore.

    When I was in my twenties, I went back to San Francisco and visited my old house. Eventually I found my way up the street to the witch's house. It was still there, but it had been painted a bright yellow and the garden was filled with flowers. I've no idea who lives there now, but I know the old woman is gone. The memory of that day, however, never left me.

    Mackena Kristine Lannes

    ReplyDelete
  8. One of my maaaany spooky stories. (Keep in mind, I have the ability to communicate with the deceased.)

    I was home alone, and on the phone with my best friend, just talking as usual- and I had a bad feeling, like something was in the house with me. Suddenly this demonic scream just went through the phone, and the phone shut off- then my door slammed shut.
    I called her back, and I asked if she heard that or if she was the one who did the scream, and she said of course I heard it, but no I did not, and I definitely didn't do it.
    I have been dealing with demonic entities ever since I got extremely ill, around three years ago.
    briannuhhYDG@yahoo.com ~ Wonderful giveaway. <3

    ReplyDelete
  9. (first, I want to apologize for the mistakes in my text, I'm french ...)

    About ten years ago, I was in Finistère (a part of Bretagne, in France), in a charming cottage next to a little town, with my family. In France, this place is known for its legends, myths (Broceliand forest, King Arthur's stories ...) and supernatural creatures (korrigans in particular, who are a kind of goblin known for their tricks on humans), and this was the first time I went there (but not the last ...).

    The house where we lived for three weeks has a television, and, when the rain was falling, we sometimes spent time watching it, on the evening. This evening, the third since we arrived, we were watching a movie on the third channel (I will always remember ...), then turned off the TV, and went sleeping.
    But in the first light of dawn, next morning, we were all waked up by a terrible noise, sounds of voices, music, came from the living room. When we came there to know the origin of the noise, we saw that the TV was on, the sound at max, and ... on the sixth channel. The remote control was in a drawer, so nothing could tap on it.
    We told what's happenned to our neighboors (who were the owner of our house) and they told us that this was not the first time that something like that happenned there. In fact, every family who rent the house for holidays was witness of strange events, inexplicable, but never realy dangerous ... Just like jokes, actually, the kind of joke that a child could make. They told us that they thought that korrigans were responsible, because they love jokes and scare humans (and steal keys, so we watched close on ours !).

    We knew that it was not dangerous, but believe me, when you are wake up by a screaming TV on 5 AM, it's a little bit spooky !

    Thanks for the giveaway, this is a wonderful idea <3
    space.sheep03@gmail.com

    ReplyDelete
  10. This entry is from Sinnoch:

    “You should listen to Story Archaeology! This Samhain special from last year has many great spooky stories from Irish myth! http://storyarchaeology.com/2012/10/20/samhain-special-corpse-carrying-for-beginners/”

    ReplyDelete
  11. From Michael T:

    “Back when I was in my early teens I became interested in Wicca. My friend knowing this invited me to her coven Samhain ritual (it was a coven of teenager witches). The coven members casted a circle and almost right away strange things started to happen. There was weird noises (like growling) in the next room and lights started to flicker. Later on a mist showed up in the center of the circle around the girl who was the high priestess. Her face almost changed and her voice became deeper. For a long time afterward I avoided Wicca thinking that it was evil. I am now a witch (non Wiccan) and do not fear such things, it was scary as a young kid though. Have a blessed Samhain!”

    ReplyDelete
  12. This entry is from Allison Brown-DaCosta

    “This story comes from around my dad lived in N.Y. state.

    Just outside of the settlement of Brookhaven lived an old woman in a cottage who was thought to be a witch. People who lived in Brookhaven would go to Aunty Greenleaf for her renowned herbal cures, although they believed she got her healing abilities from the devil. She also had the power to harm, killing farmer’s animals and making people sick…she would curse anyone who offended her.

    One day a phantom deer was seen by a small child on the outskirts of Brookhaven and she took sick and died. More people started to see this deer and wherever it showed up there was bad luck, sickness and death. The men gathered their dogs and guns together to hunt the deer, but no matter what tricks the hunters tried the deer escaped. This went on for some weeks and it was decided that the deer must have been a shape shifting witch. A farmer made bullets from a silver cross that was in his family for generations. There was enough silver to be melted down to make three bullets. The farmer went out hunting the deer, he found her drinking at a stream when he fired his shots at her. He saw that he had hit her with one of his shots, but she ran off and he was unable to track her.

    The next day Aunty Greenleaf was found in her cottage dying in bed. She died shortly later with a silver bullet inside of her. All the evil things happening around Brookhaven stopped when she died and the phantom deer was never seen again.”

    ReplyDelete
  13. This entry is from Hertha:

    “I don’t think that this is really spooky, some people might think it is I guess. My mom died not too long after I was born. She used to come to me as a child sitting at the foot of my bed. I did not know who she was until I was much older and I saw a picture of her. She still visits sometimes still, mostly my daughter, especially when she was younger. I always feel her with me and I know that she protects me and my family.”

    ReplyDelete
  14. It would seem that some people have been having a hard time publishing their entries here; if that is the case, please feel free to email them to me at unfetteredwood(at)yahoo(dot)ca and I will post them for you.

    ReplyDelete
  15. When I was in middle school, my private school moved to the old Michigan School for the Deaf building which was constructed in 1914. The building was only half-finished, with the school taking up the basement and 1st floor, and the upper two floors plus the attic being untouched. The building was originally designed to be a school and dormitory. Often strange things would happen in the school, and there were many rumors about students from the 1900s committing suicide or falling ill and dying. While no one ever verified these rumors, I had something strange happen to me.

    I was in Fibers, a sewing-based art class with about 10 or so other students and an instructor. While we were working, everyone in the room saw someone come into the classroom out of the corner/top of their eyes. No one got a good look at this person. Whoever it was walked across the classroom, stopped by the window, and looked out the window and stared. Then they turned around and left. They were in the room for probably 30 seconds. As soon as they left the room, my teacher sent me to figure out who it was and what they wanted. I ran to all the nearby classrooms and asked if anyone had been in there, or if they'd seen anyone in the hallway. No one had seen anything. I also ran down the hall and down into the stairwell to see if anyone was down there. No was around. Later in the day, my teacher asked the other art teachers if they had seen anyone or sent a kid to our classroom. No one had seen or knew about any of it!

    You can contact me at: genmrainey(at)gmail(dot)com

    ReplyDelete
  16. Hello, this story comes from my co-worker who is in her 60s and has lived across the States and Canada, currently residing in North Bay, Ontario.

    We were discussing ghosts and whether we believe if they were real. My co-worker had mentioned energies as being the source of everything, including ghosts which depending on whether or not they did good, had a certain energy.

    She mentioned living in a farmhouse when she was married to her 1st husband, sometime in the late 80s, early 90s. This farmhouse had a legend to it that she was unaware of at the time. She had a bull and some cows at the time which she kept in the barn that was part of the farmhouse but closer to the wood. One day she was working in the barn, sifting hay and cleaning up the cows, very difficult work as she described. The day was ending and it had turned to dawn. She was sweating from the labor and started to notice a very distinct creeping that started at the bottoms of her feet. The creeping worked its way up her body and started to produce goosebumps across her skin, making her sweat turn cold. She mentioned that it was one of the most uncomfortable feelings she's ever experienced, not fully understanding what it was, but having an irking as to what it could be. The feeling she described started to get so overwhelming, like a heavy lead suffocating her and drowning her body and mind, it felt like a fog had descended on her and was crushing her downwards. She left the barn house and immediately after walking away in the darkness.

    She left the incident alone but did not return to the barn house for a while. A few weeks later, she had family visiting and her visiting brother had gone out to the explore the lands. He returned and said that he heard his wife calling for him, yet his wife had been at the store the entire time. He said he heard a woman's voice near the barn house calling his name. At this point, my co-worker's hair raised on her spine and explained the story of her working inside the barn house.

    Eventually, an elderly neighbor had heard of these stories and came to visit my co-worker. They shared a cup of tea and she asked him if the barn house had spirits. He said that several years back there was a family that lived in the farmhouse, a man, woman and several children. The man was always on the road and the woman was left with the children, she apparently was a very cruel woman who was known for beating and pimping her children out for money. Her husband avoided her by travel and would come back occasionally to see the children. One day he returned and found all the children slaughtered inside the house and found her hanging in the barn house. He was so devastated that he ended up killing himself inside the house. The barn house and farm house were both cleared out but the spirits remained, especially the spirit of the evil woman inside the barn house.

    They sold that house within the year and moved to a new house. My co-worker says she still gets the chills from that memory and says she avoids all old farms now.

    You can contact me at levo.minus(at)gmail(dot)com

    Kat

    ReplyDelete
  17. While I have had some pretty spooky experiences, none of them make particularly good stories. The first thing I think of when asked for a spooky tale is the sleep-over fright story. This is my favorite creepypasta style spooky story:

    The Portraits

    There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning.

    As he looked around the inside of the cabin, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by several portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred and malice. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.

    The next morning, the hunter awoke—he turned, blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.

    Cheers,
    crowgirl13
    [badelement at gmail dot com]

    ReplyDelete
  18. This entry comes from Renee Ainsley:

    {part one}:

    "About fifteen years ago my husband and I lived in a house with two apartments in it. We lived in one unit, and a friend lived in the other. When our friend moved away, we decided it would be a good time to start our family. We bought the house and tore down the wall between the apartments and started to renovate. I noticed a lot of bumps in the night and strange noises coming from the other side of the house. My husband told me it was nothing to worry about. The house was just and old house making normal old house noises.
    When we adopted our first child, a boy, we were ecstatic. I’d made a cute little room for him upstairs and everything in our world seemed wonderful.
    Our son came to us at seventeen months old, so he was already starting to talk and when he began telling us about the man who kept waking him up at night we just thought he was having dreams. Until one morning he couldn’t even stay awake at breakfast, we started to question him further. He told us that the man would sit in the rocking chair and rock and talk to him all night. Our poor little guy told us he didn’t like the man. I’m not going to lie, I was wigged! My husband, as usual, the non-believing type thought I was overreacting.
    A few nights later, I woke up in the middle of the night to our screaming kid and ran upstairs to his room. When I got there, I couldn’t understand what I was looking at. He was on the floor, but when I went to grab him, his body wasn’t where it should have been. I know how this sounds but I’m just telling you what happened. It took me minute to realize that he wasn’t beside his bed, but he was under it, with only his little face sticking out. I freaked! I reached under the bed and grabbed him by his shoulder and yanked him out. I brought him down to our room and when he was calm, I asked him what happened but he said he didn’t remember. I couldn’t help but think of the man in the rocking chair.
    The next day I took our son up to his room and spoke to the man in the chair in front of him. I told the man that if he didn’t stop bothering my son, he was going to be in trouble. Our little guy seemed satisfied with that, and amazingly enough, there was no further trouble. In light of how quickly and easily it resolved itself; I had to admit that my husband was probably right about it all just being a dream.
    Until…
    Our daughter arrived in our home when she was nine days old. She had a rough start of things. She had stopped breathing at birth and had to be resuscitated. We were never told the exact details so we’re not quite sure how long she was gone for. She had colic, and other medical issues which prevented her from sleeping in her crib for the first few months. Around the age of three months we were able to move her to her own room and bed as long as we were monitoring her, so we purchased one of those baby video monitors. It was really great, the monitor allowed me to keep a close eye on her but I had my room back to me self, and I had long forgot about the troubles when son first came to us....

    ReplyDelete
  19. ...{from Renee Ainsley part two}:

    "...Our house has loft bedrooms upstairs, so the ceilings are slanted like the roof. My husband was able to mount the monitor on the ceiling above our baby’s crib. It gave me a great bird’s eye view of her whole bed and it was out of reach for my four year old son. Still, night after night, I’d put Mollie to bed, come downstairs and click on my part of the monitor, only to discover the camera in her room was facing in some other direction. I knew that there was no way my son could reach the camera, and I knew I wasn’t doing it, so who then? When I suggested to my husband—who worked out of town—that something weird was going on, he only laughed it off and told me I needed to catch up on my sleep. I was totally confused and more than a bit creeped out.
    The moving camera game continued for a few weeks and one evening after a very uneventful day, our daughter had been fed, bathed and cuddled and it was now time for her to go to bed. So up we went to her room, kisses and coos and my little bundle was asleep as soon as her head hit the mattress. I checked the camera, which was moved, and pointed it again at her crib.
    I went downstairs to relax for a couple of hours until her next feeding. On my way down the stairs the phone rang—it was my friend—and I got distracted and forgot to turn the monitor on. I had been chatting with her for about five minutes when I realized the monitor was off so I clicked it on. My blood ran cold as I looked into the tiny screen. The camera was still pointed down at my baby’s crib but…my baby was gone!
    I can’t tell you how terrified I was in that moment.
    I hadn’t gone more than twenty feet from her room. I’d only put her in there five minutes before. I screamed and sobbed into the phone and ran up the stairs. I burst into her room and for a moment, I couldn’t force myself to turn on the light. My friend was screaming into my ear, “What’s going on!?” With a shaky hand I clicked the switch and was more confused than ever. The crib was empty all except for a tiny lump in the middle of the sheet. I dropped the phone and walked to the crib. I knew what the lump was, I knew it had to be my baby, but I was panicked. I still wasn’t sure what was going on. I ripped the sheet off the mattress and still no baby, just a lump under the mattress cover. Again, my heart was in my throat. I knew my three month old baby who couldn’t roll over, and was barely moving on her own would not have been capable of getting under the sheet and the mattress protector so how did this happen? I had to lift the mattress to take the protector off and there she was…safe and sound…asleep as though nothing had happened.
    So what did happen? Your guess is a good as mine.
    I decided to take matters into my own hands and cast a protection spell on her room. I also did a banishing spell on the whole house, and spoke out loud to whoever may have been there and asked them to stop bothering my children. By now, having had two strange experiences directly related to the arrival of our children was just too weird and though I can’t explain what was going on, I definitely know that SOMETHING was going on.
    We haven’t had any major issues since I did the spells. But I do still see shadows that move behind me whenever I’m upstairs, and they seem to be worse in our daughter’s room.
    So, who wants to have a slumber party at my house?...lol…can’t wait to hear your creepy story…=)"

    ReplyDelete
  20. This entry is from Rose:

    "My boyfriend and I were getting ready for bed in his new apartment when I remembered I left my phone in the living room. Because I'm a lazy ass sometimes, I asked him to get it for me. I distinctly heard him rummaging around in the living room when the bedroom door slammed. I didn't think much of it (probably the wind, right? even though there are no open windows?) until he tried to get back in. Even though there wasn't a lock on the door, and the knob turned freely on both sides, we couldn't get the door opened. When we gave up and I was heavily contemplating grabbing the toolbox from the closet and taking the door off its hinges it swung open. We wrote it off as some sort of odd coincidence, but I salted all the entryways, just in case ;)"

    ReplyDelete
  21. Probably one of my favourite spooky stories is The Dionaea House. If you aren't familiar, have a read here. http://www.dionaea-house.com

    To be honest, it took me awhile to realize that is was a story, and not a true account of something that happened.

    ReplyDelete