After Death Experiences and Electronic Hauntings: Real Ghost Stories of the Unexplained

That's kind of. However, the rule was always the same. If I slept with my hands or feet outside the blanket, it would come down and take the trumpey. Welcome to Tell Me a Ghost Story, the late night call in podcast where we delve into the world of the supernatural and explore the eerie and unexplained. I'm your host, Michelle Newman. This podcast features true stories from our callers that will send shivers down your spine and leave you questioning the existence of the afterlife. So grab a cozy blanket, turn down the lights. Hey, Michelle, this is Tyler from Colorado. Almost didn't call, but I need to talk about what's been happening since my kayaking accident last year, because other people are experiencing it too, and that's what's really messing with my head. So last June, I flipped my kayak and some rappids got trapped underwater for what the EMT said was probably close to three minutes technically drowned. They brought me back, obviously, but ever since then things have been off. At first, it was just me noticing stuff, shadows moving wrong, hearing my name when no one said it. I figured it was brain damage. From lack of oxygen or PTSD or whatever. I wasn't going to tell anyone because I didn't want to sound insane. But then my roommate heard it too. We were both in the living room watching TV, maybe two months after the accident. He got up to grab a beer from the kitchen, and from upstairs my bedroom, we both heard my voice say, Tyler, come here, clear as day, my voice coming from my empty bedroom. My roommate froze in the kitchen doorway just looked at me with this expression like, what the hell was that? And I had to tell him, dude, I'm sitting right here, that wasn't me. We went upstairs together. My room was empty, door was open, exactly how I'd left it, but we both heard it, both of us. That's when I knew I wasn't losing it, or if I was, someone else was losing it with me. The visual stuff started around the same time. These patches of air that look wrong, like TV static made out a fog, or like the air is glitching. They appear for maybe two seconds and then vanish, usually in my peripheral vision, but sometimes dead center. I saw one while I was at a coffee shop with my friend Marissa. We're sitting there talking and one of these static clouds just forms right next to our table, maybe three feet away, just hovering there, flickering, and Marissa stops mid sentence, stares at it, then looks at me and goes, are you seeing this? What is that? It disappeared before I could even answer, but she saw it. She described it exactly the way I would have static fog glitching air. After that happened, I told her about the accident, about all the weird stuff, and she got really quiet and said, I think you brought something back with you. I don't know what that means. Brought what back from where I was dead for three minutes, not three days. I didn't have some near death experience with a tunnel and white light, or maybe dying for those few minutes broke something in me, and now I can see things other people can't. The voice thing has happened three more times since then. Once my girlfriend heard it call her name from my car while I was standing next to her in a parking lot. Once my dad heard it coming from the basement while I was upstairs. Once I heard it myself, my own voice calling my name from the bathroom while I was in bed. That one really screwed me up. Michelle, hearing your own voice call to you from another room when you know you're alone. I've had to develop this mental coping mechanism where I just don't think about it much, because if I really sit with it, if I really process what's happening, I start to spiral. I wish someone had warned me this could happen, that coming back from something like that might not be clean, that there might be consequences I couldn't see coming. Now. I'm just trying to live with it, the static clouds, the phantom voice, whatever else is coming in because I'm starting to think this is just my life now. If anyone else has experienced something similar after a near death experience, I'd really like to hear from you, because I feel like I'm navigating this completely blind. Thanks for listening, Michelle. Tyler from Colorado. Thank you for your call. What you're experiencing is absolutely chilling, and hearing your voice how much whighs on you. Your friend Marissa might be right. Maybe he did bring something back with you. The question is what does it want? Hey, Michelle, this is Emma. I'm going to share something with you that happened to me as a child. At the time, I was around ten to eleven and my sister would have been eight or nine. Long story short, our cousins, who we saw every weekend, had purchased a life size knitted clown from a thrift store. I know what you're thinking, Why on earth would anyone buy one of those? My thoughts exactly. Anyway, from the moment this clown arrived at their place, weird things started to happen. For example, they would place the clown in their bedroom and when they woke up, it would be sitting on the couch, or it would be in the kitchen. One night, a few months after they got the clown, myself and my sister had a sleepover at our cousin's place. By this point, we were all super scared of the clown and didn't want it to be anywhere near us, so, for whatever reason, we locked it in the outdoor dog kennels that they had it there place. Sure Enough, when we woke up the next morning, it was inside the house, sitting on the couch. Although all our parents were skeptical, our uncle decided it would be best to just get rid of the clown for good. He put the clown on the back of his ute ready to take a load of rubbish to the tip that afternoon. This is the part I really really can't explain myself. My sister and our two cousins were out the back of their place, riding on the mini four wheelers they had, and we stopped to have a break and chat. Then out of literally nowhere, we see the clown running like it's human through the long grass, maybe fifty meters away from us. After ten seconds, it had disappeared into the grass. We ran to our parents and tried to explain what we saw. When everyone realized the clown wasn't on the back of our uncle's ut anymore, no one could understand, especially us four kids. After seeing what we saw, that was the last time we ever saw the clown. We went back to the long grass where we saw it, but nothing was there. This story sounds like a load of bs, I know, but we know what we saw that day, and it's something I'll never get out of my head. I suppose the underlying question is where did the clown go and what had caused this to happen. Emma, thank you for your terrifying memory. Odds are it was probably your uncle playing a nasty trick on you. If it wasn't. A life size knitted clown doll that moves on its own is already nightmare fuel. Hey Michelle, this is Carlos from San Antonio. I got to tell you about this job I had back in twenty nineteen at this twenty four hour diner off I ten. I only worked there for like three weeks before I quit, and I've never told anyone the real reason why. So I got hired as a night cook ten pm to six am shift. The pay was decent and I needed the money, so whatever. Right on my first day, the manager she's showing me around. We get to the walk and freezer in the back, and she stops, points to this little shelf next to the door that has flowers, some prayer candles, a picture of the Virgin Mary, and a photo of a guy in a cook's uniform. She goes, that's Danny. He worked here for fifteen years. In twenty fifteen, he came in for his shift, said he wasn't feeling well, went to lie down in the office and never woke up heart attack. I was like, okay, that's sad. But why are we talking about this? And she just looks at me, real serious and says, you'll see him sometimes. Don't be afraid. He's harmless. Just acknowledge him. If you see him, say hello. He gets upset if you ignore him. I thought she was messing with me, like hazing the new guy or whatever. First week, nothing happened. I'm working nights, barely seeing any customers, just prepping food and cleaning. It's boring, but fine. Second week, I'm in the walk in grabbing supplies. It's maybe three am, and when I turn around to leave, there's someone standing in the doorway blocking it. It's a guy in a cook's uniform, white jacket, black pants, hat, but his face it was blurry, like someone smudged it out in a photo, just this flesh colored blur. I dropped the box I was holding, and the guy just stood there, not saying anything. And I remember what Gloria said, acknowledge him. So I'm like, hey, Danny, I'm Carlos. I'm just grabbing some stuff, and he stepped aside. I walked out of that freezer as calmly as I could, but the second I got to the kitchen. I was shaking so hard I had to sit down. The other employees acted like it was normal. One of the waitresses told me, oh, yeah, Danny shows up all the time. He's just checking on the place. After three weeks, I told the manager I was done. Thank you, Carlos from San Antonio. Three weeks. I don't blame you. The surprise factor alone would get me, but there's something deeply unsettling about seeing a figure with a blurred out face blocking your exit from the walk in freezer at three am. Michelle, it's Jenna from Boise. I need to tell you about something that's been happening at my apartment for the past two months, and I'm honestly losing my mind over it. I live on the third floor, third floor, Michelle. That's important because there's no balcony, no fire escape, nothing outside my bedroom window except a straight drop to the parking lot. It started in September. I was getting ready for bed, maybe eleven thirty at night, and I had this feeling, you know, that feeling when you know someone's watching you. I looked up at my window and there were two red lights hovering outside, just floating there in the darkness. At first I thought it was a drone or maybe a reflection from something. But they weren't blinking, they were steady, and they were looking at me. I know that sounds crazy, but I could feel it. These weren't just lights, they were eyes. I closed my curtains, tried to convince myself it was nothing. Went to bed. Next night, same thing, eleven thirty. I'm brushing my teeth in the bathroom and I glanced at my bedroom window from the hallway. The curtains are still closed, but I can see red light glowing through them, two spots of red light. I opened the curtains fast, trying to catch whatever. It was nothing, just darkness. But the second I closed them again, within like thirty seconds, the red glow came back. This has been happening every single night for two months, always around the same time, always those two red eyes outside my third floor window. I told my boyfriend and he came over to check it out. We opened the window, stuck our heads out, looked around. There's nowhere for anything to be, no ledge, no wires, nothing, and it's sheer drop. Nothing could be standing there. But that night, with him there, the eyes showed up. Anyway, he saw them too. We both watched them hover outside the window for maybe five minutes. He wanted to open the window and confront whatever it was, but I wouldn't let him. Something about those eyes felt wrong, malevolent. We tried taking pictures. They never show up on camera, just darkness, but we can see them with our eyes clear as day. My neighbor below me, I finally worked up the courage to ask her if she's seen anything weird. And Michelle, she got this look on her face. She said, the red eyes outside the window. She's been seeing them too for months, outside her window, second floor. I don't know what this thing is. I've looked up everything, owls, drones, ball lightning, reflections. Nothing explains it. Owls don't hover in one spot. This thing doesn't move. It just floats there, staring. And the worst part, I think it's getting closer. The first few times, the eyes seemed far away, like maybe ten feet from the window. Now they're right up against the glass. Sometimes I hear tapping, light tapping on the window, like something's testing it. I've started sleeping in my living room. I can't handle being in my bedroom anymore. I keep the curtains closed in there all the time now, but I know it's still out there waiting. My lease is up in January. I'm not renewing. I don't care if I have to break it and pay the fee. I'm getting out of this building. If anyone else in Boise has seen this, please call in. I need to know I'm not going insane. Thanks Michelle. Thank you Jenna from Boise for calling in. Those red eyes outside your third floor window with no ledge, no balcony, nothing to stand on. That's absolutely terrifying. And the fact that your neighbor sees them too. No, thank you break that lease. Hey Michelle, this is Marcus from Philadelphia. I'm a photographer and I had the strangest experience at Gettysburg last October that I still can't explain. I was there doing a project on Civil War battlefields, trying to capture the landscape at different times of day. Professional work, you know, not just tourist snapshots. I had high end equipment, a cannon R five, multiple lenses, the works. There's this area at Gettysburg called Triangular Field, right near Devil's Den. It's not as famous as Little Roundtop or Cemetery Ridge, but hundreds of men died there, Confederate sharpshooters used the rocks for cover, and there are all these reports of paranormal activity. I got there around dusk, Golden hour, perfect light. I started setting up my shots, framing the rocks, the field, the tree line, and my camera just stopped working. At first, I thought the battery died, but I'd just charged it that morning, so I swapped in a fresh battery. Still nothing. The camera wouldn't turn on. Okay, fine, maybe it's a mechanical failure. I switched to my backup camera. Same thing, dead, won't power on. Now I'm frustrated because I drove three hours for this shoot. I checked both cameras, check all my equipment. Everything looks fine, but nothing will work. Then I tried my phone just to take a quick snapshot to at least document that I was there. The phone camera opened, I framed the shot, pressed the shutter. The screen went white, just pure white. When I checked the photo later, it was blank, just a white rectangle. I stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out what was happening. I got this overwhelming feeling of being watched not by one person, but by many people, like there were dozens of eyes on me, from the rocks, from the tree line, from the field itself. I packed up and left. The second I walked away from Triangular Field, maybe twenty yards away, my camera turned on, just powered up like nothing had happened. Both cameras worked perfectly. My phone camera worked fine. I looked up Triangular Field later that night, and there are dozens of reports of the exact same thing. People's cameras won't work there. Photos come out blank or completely washed out. Electronics malfunction. It's like whatever energy is in that field doesn't want to be photographed. I'm a photographer. I understand equipment failure, but this wasn't that. This was something else, something that didn't want me there. Marcus for Philadelphia, thank you for your experience. Hey, Michelle, this is Tony from North Dakota. I vividly remember when I was younger having a clown doll talk to me from a hatch in our ceiling. It would speak to me every single night, and it was very nice. We often had conversations about my day and he would listen to me vince about my frustration. However, the rule was always the same. If I slept with my hands or feet outside the blanket, it would come down and take them from me. To this day, I have trouble sleeping with my limbs out from the blanket. I should also mention that I've moved around a lot at that age, and it only ever happened in one house that I lived in, so I don't believe that it was a hallucination. Thanks Tony from North Dakota. Thank you for your disturbing call. A clown that talked to you, listen to your problems, but threaten to take your hands and feet. Huh no, thank you. That's all we have this week. Folks, do you have a ghost story? Call seven oh one four eight four two six six six. That's seven oh one four eight four two six six six, or go to tellmeo ghoststory dot com and leave your story there. Thank you to all the callers who left messages this week. I'm your host, Michelle Newman, signing off. See you next week. Might have been it