True Ghost Stories (Volume 3)

​Chapter: The Night that Lucifer and a few of his buddies came to my house

I’ve always been fascinated by the paranormal. I used to listen to Coast to Coast AM with Art Bell almost every night. All about ghosts, UFOs, Big Foot, conspiracy theories. I loved it. I was addicted to it. Other guys were interested in cars and sports, but I was interested in ghosts and UFOs.  Back in the late 1990s I was listening to Coast to Coast AM and a caller talked about the time he had called forth Lucifer via a Ouija Board, and later that night he heard a huge explosion in his house, and he was lifted up off his bed into a standing position.  I thought I would try it.  So, I called forth Lucifer, and I mocked him and belittled him saying: If you think you are so powerful then appear to me now, but I think you have no real power etc.

Nothing happened, so I turned off the light and went to sleep. I lived in a duplex with a large fenced back yard. It was fall so the back yard was covered with fallen leaves.  There was no alley. The back yard fence had the back yards of neighbors. In other words, nobody could get into the back yard unless they came through the house or over the fence from a neighbor’s back yard. And there were no teenagers on the block. A few children but no teens and no young men.

Anyway, I started to hear what sounded like four large men walking in my back yard. My bedroom window faced the back yard, and it was open somewhat. Sounded like four large men walking back there.  And they were making strange sounds that I can only describe as if a group of men talked into a recorder, and you played it back backwards: as if hearing the men speaking backwards.  Very disconcerting. Very disturbing.  Their steps kept getting closer to my window. I almost jumped up and looked out the window, but then I stopped myself because I really didn’t want to see what might be out there.  Again, there were no teenagers living on the block. None of my neighbors had teenagers. Just about all were older retired people.  So, I got scared: real scared.  So I jumped out of bed and got on my knees and said: In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, I command that all evil spirits depart from here and do not return!  I said that three times.  And, sure enough, the weird backward talking and the heavy footsteps on the leaves stopped, and did not return.

It took awhile but I finally went to sleep, but then I was awoken by a huge explosion like someone let up a bomb in my backyard. As it went off something lifted me off my bed and onto my feet off the end of the bed in a standing position.  I looked out to see if someone had a gas explosion next door. Nothing. Nobody had their lights on either. There is no way my neighbors could not have been awoken by the huge explosion, but, apparently, they heard nothing: because all their lights were off except the lights they usually had on late at night.  The light in my room worked just fine, so it was not a transformer explosion.

I learned that night, the hard way, that the occult is not something to play with. It can be very dangerous. Still today (2024) I still watch all the ghost hunter shows. I’m still fascinated by the paranormal. Just can’t help myself I guess. But you can be sure of one thing: never again will I call up Lucifer or mock him as I did. Gonna stay away from that from now on. If fact, I doubt I’ll ever say the name out loud again. I’ve learned my lesson.

Chapter: Ghost of a Serial Killer Stalks a  Stripper

Igo to strip clubs . Not proud of it. Not ashamed of it.  I enjoy it. I like to ask strippers if they’ve ever seen or heard a ghost. Turns out about 1 in 5 strippers have seen or heard a ghost in the past. Of the 1 in 5 I would say 1 in 10 has a truly scary ghost story to share.  I’ll share one of the scariest ones hear. Mind you, this is not my own experience, but what a stripper told me.

Let’s call her Jenn.  Jenn was a stripper in Portland Oregon, which has a lot of strip clubs. She lived in an apartment building at the very end of a street that went straight for half a block and then turned to the left into a circle.  For the first half of the way, on the left, was a large vacant field. The field had the remnants of an old farm house and a barn.  Portland had a lot of farms until after World War II when there was a huge amount of building, and, today, there are only a few farms houses and barns within the city limits of Portland Oregon.  On this road, there was nothing left of the farm house and old barn but the very foundations of both.

Anyway, Jenn worked until about 2am four nights a week. She would drive home and she would have to pass the large vacant lot in order to get to her apartment complex. One night, she told me, she was driving past the field, about where the old barn had been, and she looked in her rear-view mirror, and noticed a man, about 30ish, with long brown hair, not kept well, in overalls, and a shirt like what farmers used to wear.  The man had a beard. He was running after the woman’s car. He was about three car lengths behind her.  This of course startled Jenn,  so she hit the gas to increase her distance from the man. She turned the corner and arrived