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The U-28 Sea Creature

“On July 30, 1915, our U-28 torpedoed the British steamer Iberian, which was carrying a rich cargo across the North Atlantic. The steamer sank so swiftly that its bow stuck up almost vertically into the air. Moments later the hull of the Iberian disappeared. The wreckage remained beneath the water for approximately twenty-five seconds, at a depth that was clearly impossible to assess, when suddenly there was a violent explosion, which shot pieces of debris - among them a gigantic aquatic animal - out of the water to a height of approximately 80-feet.”

“At that moment I had with me in the conning tower six of my officers of the watch, including the chief engineer, the navigator, and the helmsman. Simultaneously we all drew one another’s attention to this wonder of the seas, which was writhing and struggling among the debris. We were unable to identify the creature, but all of us agreed that it resembled an aquatic crocodile, which was about 60-feet long, with four limbs resembling large webbed feet, a long, pointed tail and a head which also tapered to a point. Unfortunately we were not able to take a photograph, for the animal sank out of sight after ten or fifteen seconds.”

One important thing to note about this encounter is the manner in which the captain recorded the encounter. In general submarine captains are not known to be prone to exaggeration, leading some to believe that he would not detail such an encounter in any other way but as it happened. Also there would be absolutely no reason to concoct such a fantastic story knowing, as we all do, that the majority of people who report strange encounters are generally looked upon as crazy and meet with only ridicule.

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Self Improvement Masterpost

Time Management

Waking up earlier

Stop staying up all night

Wasting too much time on a certain website?

Top 10 Reasons for Lost Time

29 Time Wasting Activites

General Time Management Guide

Creating an effective schedule for your day

How to stop being late to things

Easy to prepare healthy recipes

Make time for your hobbies!!

Making School Suck Less

Prioritization

…what if everything is a priority?

Studying methods

Strategies for students with ADHD

Strategies for students with learning disabilities

AVOIDING BAD PROFESSORS

Dealing with difficult professors

Preparing for competitive exams

Quick and healthy snacks that are good for focus

Finding cheap textbooks

Relationships and Sex

How to tell if someone genuinely likes you

Why relationships fail

Putting yourself first when you need to

Eight differences between healthy and unhealthy relationships

Know the difference in protective and possesive

10 things to know before you start being sexually active

Maintaining a long lasting HEALTHY sex life

Considering a friends w/ benefits relationship? read this!

Money Management

Are you spending too much money on ____?

10 Tips on Saving Money

Steps to take in starting a budget

Mobile apps for budgeting! 

Buying a car

Tips for buying a house

…and apartment

25 Wastes of money

Even savvy savers make these mistakes

Getting / Keeping a Job

Interviewing etiquette

Creating a resume

Starting your career before you start your career

Workplace etiquette

Shitty boss?

Waking up with a hangover…

Getting ahead in the workplace

Physical Health (Diet and Exercise)

General Men’s Health website

General Women’s Health website

Gym Etiquette

Micro changes for macro results at the gym

7 foods to help trim belly fat

How many calories should you be consuming?

No gym? Try these at home work outs

Great diets for men

Great diets for women

Miscellaneous (Better you…)

Stop forgetting things

Stop cursing

Keep your car stocked

Stop smoking

Deal with the police responsibly

Love yourself

Know when to shut up (This is from a Christian outlook btw but it would probably still help)

Stop talking shit about people

Let me know if any links stop working, even if this only helps one person in a small way it was worth the effort i put into finding good sources! - Keaton

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The Boyfriend’s Death

TW: Some of these stories contain elements of suicide such as nooses, all of them are relatively graphic.

This story has many different variations, like many urban legends. Each one getting significantly creepier and generally more graphic, you’re sure to enjoy the first of many different versions of this story. Read it here: 

 A teenager is driving his girlfriend home from a date. The boy had been playing around earlier about the car running out of gas as a means to make out with her. Well, it doesn’t work and she’s mad. He starts up the car to take her home, apologizing all the way, when lo and behold they actually do run out of gas. He pulls the car over by some trees. It’s very late and the area is secluded and wooded. The boy tells his girlfriend that he saw a gas station a couple of miles back and since going ahead would take even longer, he tells her to stay in the car with the windows rolled up and locked and he’ll get back as fast as he can, no sense in both of them going, right? Well, the girl waits in the car. It’s been about 20 minutes when she hears a faint scratching noise. It starts to bother her, but she blows it off as the tree branches hitting the car, it had been windy that day, She decides to turn on the radio to listen to some music so it won’t freak her out. Well, now it’s been almost 2 hours and she’s starting to get worried. Her boyfriend was a jock and could have easily made it there and back in under an hour. A half hour later she’s very worried and decides to turn off the radio and look around. He had told her not to get out under any circumstances so she tries to peer out the window, she sees nothing. To her annoyment the scratching sound is still there. She decides that she will get out just long enough to break off that damn branch. She gets out and notices the gas can on the ground near the door. She immediately turns around and sees her boyfriend hanging upside down from the tree, throat slit, and his fingernails dragging across the top of the car making a scratching sound. Of course, had she been listening to talk radio instead of music, she would have known a maniac had escaped from the asylum near the woods where they were parked. 

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The Choking Doberman

told by Lisa Foley

My cousin and his wife lived in Sydney with this huge doberman in a little apartment off Maroubra Road. One night they went out for dinner and a spot of clubbing. By the time they got home it was late and my cousin was more than a little drunk. They got in the door and were greeted by the dog choking to death in the loungeroom.

My cousin just fainted, but his wife rang the veterinarian, who was an old family friend of hers, and got her to agree to meet her at the surgery. The wife drives over and drops off the dog, but decides that she’d better go home and get her hubby into bed.

She gets home and finally slaps my cousin into consciousness, but he’s still drunk. It takes her almost half an hour to get him up the stairs, and then the phone rings. She’s tempted to just leave it, but she decides that it must be important or they wouldn’t be ringing that late at night. As soon as she picks up the phone, she hears the vet’s voice screaming out:

“Thank God I got you in time! Leave the house! Now! No time to explain!” Then the vet hangs up.

Because she’s such an old family friend, the wife trusts her, and so she starts getting the hubby down the stairs and out of the house. By the time they’ve made it all the way out, the police are outside. They rush up the front stairs past the couple and into the house, but my cousin’s wife still doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.

The vet shows up and says, “Have they got him? Have they got him?”

“Have they got who?” says the wife, starting to get really pissed off.

“Well, I found out what the dog was choking on – it was a human finger.”

Just then the police drag out a dirty, stubbly man who is bleeding profusely from one hand. “Hey Sarge,” one of them yells. “We found him in the bedroom.”

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The Newark Castle Hauntings

TW: Informational accounts of suicide and murder.

Newark Castle is a truly haunted castle with a terrifying and bloody history. Tales of murder, treason, suicide and the black arts await those brave enough to venture here after dark and your ghost hunt in the many rooms, dungeons and corridors are sure to leave you feeling truly terrified. Newark Castle offers a ghost hunt like no other and this haunted Castle has regular reports of paranormal activity and ghostly sightings. Join the Haunted Happenings team as we venture inside and attempt to make contact with the spirits and ghosts that still lurk within.

In the early 1900s a Castle Ranger was found swinging by the neck in the King’s Bedroom and tour guides have reported witnessing the ghost of this poor soul, twitching and jolting as if struggling for breath. In the Dungeon, hushed voices have been heard at night and loud chanting has been said to echo from the empty chambers, along with screams and shouting from the curtain wall. Those brave enough to descend into the Oubliette in which many poor souls were left to die in the most horrible conditions may encounter the feeling of oppression which has been reported on many occasions.

The castle was built in 1133 by Alexander, Bishop of Lincoln and it remained a seat of the Bishops of Lincoln until 1547, when King Henry VIII took it for the Crown. During the Civil War it became an important Royalist garrison but on 5 May 1646 King Charles I was captured at nearby Southwell and ordered Newark to surrender; the Parliamentarians subsequently set about destroying the Castle so that it could never be used as a Royalist stronghold ever again.

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Footsteps in the Snow

by Anonymous

The soft thud of following footsteps echoed behind him as he hurried through the snowflakes toward home. They kept pace with him, quickening when he quickened and slowing when he slowed. It was creepy. His flesh crawled at the sound and he sped up, cursing himself for walking home alone from the midnight Christmas Mass.

Normally not a pious man, the middle-aged bachelor had suddenly been struck by a wish to hear the old Christmas songs sung once again by a church choir, and had walked across town to attend the service. Now he regretted his choice, as he passed dark house after dark house in the snowy night, and the footsteps ever followed.

He sped up until he was nearly running, and skidded into his street. A few more paces brought him to the bottom of his front steps, and as he dashed up them, he realized suddenly that the following footsteps had ceased abruptly. He glanced behind him at the cross-street from which he had just turned and saw only one pair of footprints in the snow-covered street when there should have been two.

He frowned in puzzlement, and then shuddered as a cold breeze struck him, driving snow against his collar, and slammed against the door. Almost, it seemed to pass through the door, but that was superstitious nonsense. His hand was shaking as he unlocked the front door and hurried inside.

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The Grimes Home

by Alice Thompson

(The following was found in an envelope on a bus bound for Chicago)

My name is Jason Grimes and I am writing this so that when the room is eventually opened people will perhaps understand the things they find within it. And so that I will not be thought of as the madman that part of me already fears I am.

It all began with the reading of the will. My mother (My only living parent left) had passed away due to a heart attack in her New England home. Her body had been found by one of the women who came to clean every few days and the news had not come as a shock to any of the family. She’d had two previous heart attacks and with her smoking and drinking she wasn’t exactly in the best of health.

It had been a surprise that she wanted me to have the old family home though. I’d never exactly had much love for the place and had moved out the first chance I got. Honestly I hadn’t been expecting to get anything in the will, given how long it had been since we’d even spoken, I was surprised that she hadn’t written me out, the way she’d tried to write me out of the family’s history by removing any pictures of me from the house.

I certainly didn’t plan to keep that creepy, rundown old place. But at the same time I knew that there was a chance it could fetch a bit of cash on the market if someone put a little work into fixing it up and as I was currently between jobs it might be a worthwhile use of my time. I got my brother and our cousin to come over and help with fixing it up, which they happily agreed to do.

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Grad Night at the Haunted Mansion

by user CrackedMack

On June 4th, 1983, my high school was one of many that took us to Disneyland for Grad Night. If you’ve ever been to Disneyland on Grad Night, you know how much fun – and how crazy – it can be. The park stays open extra late, the skippers who drive the Jungle Cruise boats let loose and tell dirty jokes, and there’s plenty of opportunities for people to sneak booze and weed in. Getting a bunch of amped high schoolers in Disneyland is one thing, but with a nightlife and party atmosphere behind it, things can get pretty nuts.

My two friends and I, Anaheim locals, were particularly excited. We all loved Disneyland, and while we didn’t get to visit often, living practically in the park’s backyard gave us more opportunities than most. In addition, we hadn’t been since the new Fantasyland opened earlier that year, going from a sort of Medieval fairground into a storybook village, so I was kind of looking forward to that. Unlike a lot of people who were there, we intended to keep things clean and have a grand old time of it, hit as many rides as possible, and just revel.

But the big plan for the night was kind of ambitious and maybe a little reckless – to this day, I can’t remember who suggested it first, only that we all thought it was a great idea. We had already gotten into the park and gone on a number of rides when it was brought up, while we were sitting on a bench in Frontierland eating churros. From where we sat, we could look across the Rivers of America to Tom Sawyer Island, and past that where the river curved to New Orleans Square. Poking above the trees was the cupola of the Haunted Mansion, with its clipper ship weather-vane. The sun had just gone down, and the sky was awash with dull orange and purple clouds, most of which seemed to loom behind the cupola. I pointed out how perfect and spooky the whole thing looked, and that got us talking about it. The mansion was a collective favorite, and being dumb kids, we agreed to do a little exploring: to effectively “spend the night” in the Haunted Mansion.

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The Montford Experiment

by Kenneth Kohl

My name is Jim Hutchison. Most people call me Hutch, even in my professional life. My family-owned business is as a concrete contractor, and we perform work for a variety of private and federal clients. One such client is the Texas State Department of Corrections. It was work at one of their detention centers that got me interested in volunteering at a facility.

About five years back, we were installing a parking lot at the Montford Adult Correctional Institute in Lubbock. It is also known by its more appropriate name, the Montford Psychiatric Unit, as all of the inmates have been diagnosed with some type of mental disorder or other. As my men were doing the preparation, concrete placement, and finishing over a number of weeks, I used to watch people walking in and out of the front doors of the facility. It was depressing.

Always the same scene. There would be inmates in orange and white striped jumpsuits – trustees – outside the doors sweeping the front steps and picking up trash: cigarette butts, gum wrappers, etc. But mostly sweeping, always sweeping. All day long. Must have been the cleanest set of stairs in all of Texas. I supposed that it was a treat for them, though. After exhibiting good behavior for a while, they were actually allowed outside the unit. I have seen the conditions inside, and boy, I would not want to be locked up in there for too long.

Still, the looks on their faces. Blank stares, slack jaws, sweating in the one hundred degree sun. As I said, very depressing.

I had a lot of experience with mental disorders, being diagnosed with depression and bipolar disorder, and being a recovering alcoholic. I had found help and comfort through proper medical care and support groups, and I wished that there were some way I could pass that on to these poor men. Then, one day, I discovered how I could.

The guards at the front desk came to know me and some of my supervisory crew. They didn’t mind if we occasionally came inside the lobby to get out of the summer sun and use the rest rooms or buy soda from one of the machines in the waiting room. I was sitting in a chair one day, holding a cold bottle of Big Red to my forehead, when I overheard two women talking nearby. They were well dressed and obviously not there as visitors. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the few words I heard caught my attention. Apparently, they were volunteers at the prison, “bringing the Word of the Lord” to the inmates confined inside. I told them how much I admired their work, and how I had a desire to help in a similar way. And so, they suggested that I apply for a position as a pastoral counselor in the unit.

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The Grimes Home

by Alice Thompson

(The following was found in an envelope on a bus bound for Chicago)

My name is Jason Grimes and I am writing this so that when the room is eventually opened people will perhaps understand the things they find within it. And so that I will not be thought of as the madman that part of me already fears I am.

It all began with the reading of the will. My mother (My only living parent left) had passed away due to a heart attack in her New England home. Her body had been found by one of the women who came to clean every few days and the news had not come as a shock to any of the family. She’d had two previous heart attacks and with her smoking and drinking she wasn’t exactly in the best of health.

It had been a surprise that she wanted me to have the old family home though. I’d never exactly had much love for the place and had moved out the first chance I got. Honestly I hadn’t been expecting to get anything in the will, given how long it had been since we’d even spoken, I was surprised that she hadn’t written me out, the way she’d tried to write me out of the family’s history by removing any pictures of me from the house.

I certainly didn’t plan to keep that creepy, rundown old place. But at the same time I knew that there was a chance it could fetch a bit of cash on the market if someone put a little work into fixing it up and as I was currently between jobs it might be a worthwhile use of my time. I got my brother and our cousin to come over and help with fixing it up, which they happily agreed to do.

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Nightmare Series | Original

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Hanging Tree

by Rania

My boyfriend and I decided to go down to the South for a week. Hike the Great Smokies and everything.

We rented a cozy cabin, secluded, in the woods, not many people milling around. It was the end of summer, still some tourism going, but not much.

We thought it would be the perfect getaway from city life, and people in general.

The cabin had this big two-paneled window near the kitchen that looked out at the woods around the cabin. For some reason, there were no curtains over the window, or even a curtain rod, so we couldn’t hang up towels or a bed sheet for some added privacy.

We didn’t like the window, but figured there was no harm to it.

On the second morning, I was standing by the window as my boyfriend sat in front of his computer. Yes, he brought his computer to the cabin. A week away from the city did not mean a week away from technology.

Peering out the window, I noticed for the first time a long yellow rope hanging from a tree branch, about ten or so feet away. The rope snaked down, but ended five or six feet off the ground.

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Nightmare Series | Original

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Nightmare Series | Original

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Nightmare Series | Original

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Nightmare Series | Original