What one person considers normal is downright frightening to everyone else. These people had no idea the bizarre and haunting sights they would encounter when they stepped foot inside. This was most definitely the last time they trusted another person enough to spend the night at their house. Be careful of whose house to visit, who knows what they keep behind closed doors. Content has been edited for clarity.
"At the end of my street, there was the house where the Grimms (fake name obviously) stayed. The Grimms were not well liked on the street, they tended to look down their noses at everyone and claim that they owned the land that all of our houses were built on. This was in no way true, at least not currently. Mr. Grimms' great uncle or someone had originally owned the land but sold it to separate people many years ago. They were seen as stuck up, narrow-minded, and odd. However, no one every put them in their place because they were equally creepy. The Grimms house was the only one with a long driveway, the house was way back into the woods with their land stretching to the creek, where there was a rundown shack. This shack was the center of a LOT of rumors and gossiping on the street. What IS true though is that they had three dogs at the time of this story and had gone through over a dozen dogs. All of them died, several times the authorities were called, but nothing came of it. Some of the dogs in that body count were not theirs.
The Grimms had a 9-year-old daughter and a newborn son. I was approached by the little girl's mother, and she asked me if I would like to babysit her daughter for an entire weekend while the rest of the family went away. They never told me where they were going or why they were leaving their daughter for this trip. All I knew was that I was 13 and she was offering me an OUTSTANDING amount of money to do this. First, though, she wanted me to come over to see how I worked with her daughter. I had some experience with babysitting girls around her age who came from money, so I knew what I might get: super sweet but a bit spoiled. Maybe an attitude. Little Grimm was actually a delight! She immediately took to me, loved my hair, and wanted to color with me. I soon learned how to handle her throughout the trial night. While we were coloring, the Grimms women (mother and two aunts) and Mr. Grimms were smoking, drinking and cussing up a storm right into the kitchen. Occasionally, Little Grimms would say something like, 'I really 'effing like this color,' or something rather innocent with bad language. It made me uneasy, but I was a young teen and wanted the money. Plus the girl was pretty sweet for her upbringing, so she was a joy to be with.
Then the women left to go to a bar, but the father stayed.
There were floor to ceiling windows and I watched a little as he walked out to the cabin in the back down the hill. He came back out with three stuffed animals that looked like they belonged to the collection that Little Grimm had all around her (the place was a bit of a mess). He preceded to down something in a bottle, hang the stuffed animals from their necks to the trees, and shot them point-blank with a weapon. Thankfully the cabin was quite a while away from the house. I could barely hear the shots through the trees and distance.
I was so thoroughly stunned by the wasted use of a WEAPON on his daughter's STUFFED ANIMALS that I called Little Grimm's mother and asked if I could take her to my house down the street to make cookies with my mom. Thankfully she agreed and I was able to tell my mom what happened. There were some phone calls, I don't remember what exactly happened (it was more than 8 years ago), but I do know that the mother and father divorced less than a year after that and the wife got the house and custody. The weekend trip never happened, no Grimms ever spoke to me again. We did end up making some great peanut butter cookies!"
"When I was really young (around 7 or 8), a family moved into the house next to ours. I didn't really realize that something was wrong with them because I was so young, but looking back, the son had some major issues. He was in his 40s and still living with his parents. He also had some really cool gadgets and new stuff my mother couldn't afford as a single mom, like a CD player for example and some gaming consoles. Stuff you can easily impress a child with. So for me he was just a cool neighbor who let me play with his stuff. Suddenly, my mother didn't want me to meet him again. For seemingly no reason at all. And what happens when you tell a kid not to do something? They do it anyways. This was actually the first time I was on the first floor of their house, and his room still gives me nightmares today.
A room full of dolls. All different sizes. Some of them looked like he put makeup on their faces, others had really short or no hair (I assumed he cut or shaved them). An overall creepy sight, even today. I felt really uneasy and left. I of course told my mother and after she was done beating my butt for going over there again, she called the cops. They came and picked him up while also questioning me and what exactly I saw. He was basically gone after that day and his parents moved away shortly after.
Years later my mother told me that he was convicted for possession and distribution of illicit substances and other weird stuff. And that she caught him more than once filming through different windows of our house."
"I met this guy and I was super interested: he had his own home, nice car, nice belongings, really motivated, polite, a gentleman, owned his own business, and the same moral compass as me. I finally found someone that matched my lifestyle. Well after a month or so, we decided I'd meet him at his place for a movie and breakfast. We made eggs and hash browns and had great conversation together before moving to the living room to watch the movie.
On the TV was his computer screen, and there was a folder on his toolbar that said 'stalking'. I was weirded out but figured it was just a funny file name. I asked him about it and he got all excited and showed me how he found all the private social media profiles of various girls he had messaged with online. When I asked how he found this, he showed me how and then he proceeded to show me how he could even look at the photos these different women had set as private online. It was beyond creepy, but also I tend to stalk my dates online before I agree to meet, so my spidey senses went off, but not too much.
What did make my spidey senses crazy was when he told me he was located the neighborhood right next to mine and offered to drop me off. I had never told him where I lived. I broke things off and never spoke to him again. He owned a locksmith business, so for all I know he very well could have broken into my place."
"There were weird lights and shadow people. In middle school, I had a friend I’d always visit on the weekends, and I was convinced his house and entire neighborhood were haunted. In fact, pretty much everyone in the city who knew anything about that neighborhood thought it was haunted. Lots of creepy stuff happened there, but off the top of my head there was one night both his parents left for a date. His older sister was in high school at the time, so she was barely ever home on weekends.
Anyway, we’re in his den watching a movie, which has a clear view of the driveway outside. His family had two cars, and the sister didn’t drive, so they still had one car in the driveway. In the middle of the movie we see flashes of light outside and we notice the car outside is turning itself on and off. Just the lights. First the inside lights, then the outside for a little while, then only the inside again. It kept going on and off like that for a few minutes, and it wasn’t making noise so it didn’t seem like an alarm issue.
We both start to get creeped out, so we leave to go to a more secure room in the house. As we pass through the kitchen/dining room area, we both notice movement outside and see what looks like multiple silhouettes of people moving through the backyard. It was hard to tell how old they were or how many of them, but as soon as we saw it we bolted to his room and locked the door.
Could’ve been just teenagers messing around, but something about how silent the whole thing was, was really off-putting. Lots of weird stuff happened at his place.
"For a couple months, I lived in a house with an older woman (late 80s), whom I provided care for in exchange for room and board (rather than paying rent). Her late husband had been a doll maker, and I'm not sure if he still does but at one time he held the Guinness world record for the smallest doll with moving parts made without a magnifying glass. The parlor was lined with glass cabinets showing some of his best and favorite dolls. Nobody really hung out in that room because it was supposed to be kept nice for visitors. I wasn't even allowed to sit on the couches. So for the whole time I was living there, that room always had a musty, impersonal feel to it, even though it was cleaned and dusted regularly.
I passed through that room every once in a while to look out the front window, or on my way from my bedroom to the kitchen. Every once in a while I would take a quick peek into the glass cabinet and check up on my favorite dolls. That's when I started to notice that the dolls would change directions. They'd be facing front the first time I looked at them, but later in the day they'd be facing the side or the back.
I told the owner about this, and she said she never noticed it, but nobody could have been moving it because the cabinets were all locked with a key she kept in a secret place in her bedroom. The only people who ever came into the house were me, her, her sister, her brother-in-law, her grandkids, and the cleaning lady once a week. The majority of the time it was just the two of us and her family, who hardly went into that room anyways. I always thought it was weird, but I never really thought it was that scary. I figured she kept them locked up because her husband was sort of famous, so they were probably worth a lot of money. Looking back though, I'm glad they weren't given the opportunity to randomly wander around the house.
"I went to go get my hair cut by my friend’s mother when I was in my early teens. Our families were pretty close and our moms have always been friends. I should note that my friend started doing homeschooling a few years prior. My friend’s mom came home late, so my hair appointment was pushed back until midnight at her place. I pressured my mom to get me there and to come with me to show her I wasn’t lying, and that I needed the haircut before my eighth grade graduation ceremony. The ride to our friend’s place was roughly 5 minutes, which was faster than usual since traffic is dead during midnight hours, and we got out of the car just shy of parking in their driveway. We parked across the street to our friend’s place because my mom wanted to read a garage sale sign on a pole. Just before entering our friend’s house, this car pulls up in front of me and my mom and snaps a photo of us.
The flash was so bright and the only thing I saw before the flash was a silhouette of a man in short spiky hair similar to my friend’s brother. I couldn’t recognize the car since it was dark, all I know is that it was a sedan just like my friend’s brother’s car. Once this person snapped the photo of us, he drove off. My mom and I were confused for a split second and we both ran inside. My mom confided in my mom’s friend about what just happened, and my mom’s friend was also confused, but her confusion looked contrived. She didn’t speak much that night. I thanked her for the haircut and wanted her to take my money that I saved up for the haircut. After that night I didn’t try to contact my friend or her mom until after graduation. I wanted to let her mom know that everyone loved my new look at graduation. I couldn’t get a hold of anyone, and they no longer live in that house. It was as if they were never really there."
"Back in 2011, my colleagues and I went to some house party. Long story short: Everybody except for me and the host went to sleep. Then the host started talking to me and told me he noticed that I had brought somebody to his house. An 8-year-old girl named Kiara-Charlize. Interesting thing about this: I had not told anybody, but back in 2004, I lost my sister named Kiara-Charlize.
Later that night, I went to sleep in his living room on the sofa and whilst pretending to be sleeping, I saw him kneeling in front of his chimney, speaking in an unknown language. It was beyond creepy for me to witness. He was a really cool dude. But he was into Macumba, which is some kind of Brazilian religion, also considered witchcraft by others. They believe in the existence of spirits, old and new ones, which can be incorporated in order to ask them questions.
He did this once. I was there, too. It really messed me up. His voice and his facial expressions became totally different, as if I had an old woman speaking to me. Before that, he asked another friend of mine and I to ask this spirit questions about certain decisions and similar stuff. It was a very horror-movie scenario. It even included flickering lights and stuff. It lasted about five minutes. I could not sleep for 3 straight days. After that I started seeing things. Shadows. It's hard to explain. There were shadows in my home. Once I thought there was a shadow strangling my neck. I couldn't breathe for a while. These shadows happened a couple of times more."
"I had a male friend who seemed pretty normal. He was a shy nerd who had a bit of trouble making friends, but we bonded over video games and anime. He left the room to greet another friend at the door. He had a note pad under his pillow and it had really detailed beautiful drawings of me. I was sitting on his bed and it was poking out from under his pillow, It was one of those mixed media sketch pads. I assumed it was gonna be like normal drawing stuff. When I saw it was me, well, what else was I supposed to do but go through it? It’s not like the moment he left I got up and went through his drawers or anything. It was more of an 'oh, what’s this?'
It was flattering until I flipped further, and there were more pictures of me! Some were printed out screenshots of my social media posts or of friends' posts that I was tagged in, but others were just pictures of me in class or at the mall, and they weren’t pictures taken to my knowledge or accidentally. We stopped hanging out after that. He started getting really creepy and pushy, and so I cut all contact with him.
It didn’t go well at all. He became very nasty and offensive. He screamed some awful things to me."
"God, I've been waiting for an excuse to tell this story. So I went to an art show with my girlfriend and we met a nice girl. She's very talkative, well she was with my girlfriend. I'm shy until I've had a drink or know someone. So I had a drink. This girl we met will tell you anything, no filters. You ask, she tells. The party's ending and this girl says to come back to her place she shared with her boyfriend for a drink. (her boyfriend was there too, but we hadn't really spoken). Sounds great. Let's go. So we enter their home and we've all had a drink. I spot a bobble head of John Cusack. So I mutter, 'Cool, I love John Cusack.'
Pleasant conversations are had, and more drinks are had. I'm talking to her, my girlfriend is talking to him. It's been about twenty minutes when I just stop suddenly and take another quick gander at the massive display case in the back of the room. 'Is that a cabinet full of turds?'
She got so excited and he looked ashamed. It was a cabinet full of poo. It turns out they were all plastic poos and some were collectable items. She had a fascination with the story behind the first poo sellers. Door to door poo salesmen and practical joke providers. Apparently (if I recall correctly), there was a heated rivalry between to two leading poo manufacturers. She had specimens of both their works and lots of newer, much more realistic ones. It was quite the look on my girlfriend's face when she realized she had also not noticed a cabinet of poo for almost half an hour. And these were top quality fakes. I was convinced several of them were real.
My other favorite moment was when me and her where sat on the floor looking through her record collection, and somehow the conversation turned to comic books. I mentioned I collected comic books and graphic novels.
'Do you like Japanese comics?' She asked excitedly.
'Nothing against them,' I said. 'The art is usually really good!'
Her face lit up and she was almost standing, excitedly heading to the door when her boyfriend just nonchalantly says,
'Do not get the dirty mags out!'
I've never seen anyone so disappointed. The cabinet of poo definitely took the prize but if he hadn't intervened, I'm pretty sure hardcore Japanese comic book art may have given it a run for its money."
"Okay, so this took place like 2008-2009 when I was at this kid's house. We weren’t really friends, but I just felt bad for him. He was bullied and was the lonely kid in our graded. But anyway, one day our parents arranged for us to have a sleepover at his house. And oh boy I was nervous, especially because we all knew his dad was an addict. But nonetheless, I arrived that night. Now the night went as normal as it could have gone, and I saw a side of the kid I hadn’t seen at school.
We played on his video game system. But after that things went down hill. We were watching some Adam Sandler movie (don’t remember the name) when the kid asked if I wanted to see his dad's work projects. I happily said yes, I knew his dad did stuff with house renovation so I was excited. We went to the garage and his dad's desk was there. The kid showed me stuff that his dad was working on, but it was just a lot of paper work type of things. He kept opening drawers frantically as if he were looking for something, when he pulled out what I thought was a comic at first. It was colorful and had bright comic vibes, but had real images of brutal car accidents and other deaths. I remember they had captions of sly remarks. For example, there was an image of a brutal tiger attack and it would say, 'Cat got your tongue?'
There were other weird remarks like that, which the kid laughed at and referred to as his dad's death books. There were a few others of the same fashion. I’m still to this day scared for life because of this, to the point that when I got home I didn’t even tell my mom. I've only revealed it to a couple of friends."
"This was how I drew the short straw in being put up in a stranger's home for a night. Also, details are intentionally vague for anonymity and because of age and trauma. For a bit of context: when I was in high school, I was in a group called 'air cadets' for a while. It was kinda like a military-themed boy scouts, where we were indoctrinated into a military lifestyle and learned the usual stuff: uniforms, marching, authority, and specifically air force-related stuff like planes and whatnot. I wasn't really into all the military stuff so much, but it was cool because we got to go camping every month or so and also had training stuff at the RAAF base in the next city down.
One year they had some big national survival competition thing (the exact details are kinda fuzzy), where everyone from our Wing (our state, basically) had to fly to Sydney and then spend a week in the Blue Mountains, hiking around and doing various objectives. In order to get to Sydney, we had to go to the next city over, stay the night at the home of one of our fellow cadets, and then fly the following morning. We were randomly assigned billets, which for my mates from my town were pretty good. I drew the short straw here by a whole heap.
Once we'd arrived at the cadet place in the next city over, we were all briefed, paired off with those whose homes we were going to stay in and then left to it. The kid with whom I was paired was a complete stranger to me. Coming from a different cadet squadron, I had never met nor even heard of him, but being all of 15 years old, I thought I was mature enough to handle all this. The first thing that happened, after finding his father's parked car and putting my bag in the boot, was me accidentally closing a little too hard. His father greeted me by inviting me to 'Slam the stupid door harder, next time!'
Afterward, he was marginally friendlier. The house itself was typical working class suburban single-floor brick place that looked a bit neglected, but not overly so from the outside, and that musky, overcrowded smell from the inside. The lounge room was weird: it seemed that all this family did was record pay-TV programs because an entire wall was occupied by shelves that held video tapes. There must have been thousands of them. The bathroom was small and poorly-lit and filled with too many shampoo bottles. The kitchen was cramped, and the whole family just lived on the couch.
The kid's bedroom, where I was to sleep, was just packed with odd stuff, like toys and CDs and all sorts and, strangely, an adult-sized crib (think a baby's crib, but able to fit myself at 5'8" tall. Being the guest, I was content sleeping in this crib rather than a 15-year old's bed for the night, but the father insisted we do a coin toss to make the decision. Apparently this was the first coin toss the kid had ever done, and he messed it up enough that his father shouted at him for a while. I ended up sleeping/staying in that cot for nearly 12 hours because I figured it was the one place I could just hide from these weirdos.
We basically spent the whole evening watching TV, with me sitting on a chair bored and trying to minimize my suffering until it seemed a reasonable hour to go to bed. We just sat there watching reality shows. I remember we watched one about amateur robot battles, where the contestants had to build robots and make them fight, and when it was all over the father rang one of his friends and excitedly told him all the details of the episode we just watched. Also, the mother hopped up from the couch to go somewhere (the toilet, I guess) and the father sprung forth as she stepped in front of him and grabbed her chest. Need I say she wore only some old-fashioned housewife's dress with no bra underneath. I really hope she was wearing underpants. And after the father finished telling his friend about the TV show, he and his son went to the kitchen and shaved each other's heads into crew cuts, leaving the clippings on the floor until the mother came along later and swept the entire lot out the side door and onto the ground outside.
And for dinner we ate frozen meat pies. I kinda understand doing something cheap and easy when a guest comes, particularly if the guest is some unwanted stranger, but what really stuck out is how excited they all were at the prospect of frozen meat pies and oven-cooked chips. Normally, frozen pies are just the kind of odd things left in the freezer that you cook when you have an absolutely no time and enthusiasm, but these weirdos treated them like good fish or cuts of fillet.
The whole evening was just weird - they struck me as a loving enough family but just weird - not really Manson family creepy, just strange. The kid seemed to me like one of the oddballs you'd see at school with no friends. The worst part was that none of their behavior struck me as really strange until I was telling my father the following week when I got home."