The Frontier

Once inside we shall cross a frontier into a region with its own laws of time and space, and when the seemingly impossible can happen...Do you understand what I mean and still want to go?" H. Russel Wakefield (THE FRONTIER GUARDS) What are posted are real experiences of myself or people close to me. Whether your chose to believe them is up to you. 😙

[hauntedfrontier]

Movie: Grave Encounters

GRAVE ENCOUNTERS Dir. By The Vicious Brothers 2010

How many “found footage" horror movies are out there? From Blair Witch Prjoect, REC, to the Paranormal series, GRAVE ENCOUNTERS is not the most original movie but it is definitely scary. The movie begins with an introduction to the alleged found footage, the last episode of a reality show called Grave Encounters. Long before all the paranormal reality shows, there was Lance Preston and his team of paranormal experts. For thier 6th episode, the team goes into lock down in Collinswood Asylum, a large abandoned sanitarium where ghosts are said to lurk.

Immediately, the movie takes cliches from other horror movies, most starkedly the remake of “House of Haunted Hill" and the “REC" series. The asylum closes after the patients escape and kill the staff, including the infamous Dr Fridman who has a penchant for lobotomies. Soon after the grisly massacre, strange occurances happen and the building is left unused. The caretaker, Kenny, takes the team around the area showing them hotspots: the window that never closes, the bathtub where a woman killed herself, the hallway with a bald headed ghost and the tunnels. Its a humdrum of cliches that Lance Preston hypes up “to make good TV". Soon night comes and the team is locked in the building until 6 am when Kenny the caretaker unlocks the doors.

Locked in, the team goes through the usual walk through of the place, invoking spirits to come and show themselves. Nothing happens and the team decide to pack up in preparation for Kenny’s arrival.

Then all hell breaks loose

Reason, reality and time is left outside the building as the team is plunged into a hellish nightmare mirroring the labyrinthine madness of the asylums’s previous patients. The team descends deeper and deeper into the heart of the haunting, and further and further from all sense of reality. Since the audience knows from the beginning of that there is only 1 way this movie ends, the chase scenes become tiring and too long at places. There were times when I thought, just get over it already. The movie could have done with better editing as a lot of scenes could have been cut out for brevity’s sake. But for a movie chock full of cliches, it is suprisingly interesting. The twist in the end was somewhat unexpected though would have been stronger with better editing.

Overall, a good fun scare with a nice ending.

4/5 stars

[hauntedfrontier]

We Live Here

It's common for people to report moving into a house and finding out that its haunted. It's another thing when you've lived there for several years and then all of a sudden strange things start to happen.

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After she married, my cousin G left CDO to live in Cebu, the oldest city in the Philippines. She and her husband has since moved into a small studio type apartment and have been living there for several years without funfare. Last December I began receiving text messages from G recounting ghostly experiences in their previously un-haunted apartment. The experiences have become fairly common that I've asked her permission to share them here. G's husband, J, works during the night often leaving alone in the apartment. G also worked during the early mornings, so she would be up at night usually during the laundry. One night, G was hanging laundry at their small balcony. It had rained earlier so the balcony floor was wet. While hanging the clothes, she heard her phone ring from inside the house so she went back inside to answer it. G claims she felt nothing amiss at the that time but when she picked up the phone and turned she was surprised to find a pair of wet footprints coming from the open balcony to the kitchen where she stood. They were small foot prints -- a woman's -- but they could not have been hers as G was wearing sandals at that time. It was almost as if someone had followed her from the balcony into the house... Soon after that they began to experience strange phone calls. G would leave her phone in the kitchen which would call J's phone in the living room while both of them sat in the living room. Most recently, G was again alone at the house talking on the phone. The TV was across her and she could see her reflection on the blank screen. As she as talking, she suddenly saw someone walk behind her in the TV reflection, a figure dressed in a long white t shirt. When she turned, there was no one around.

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My aunt once told me empty spaces attracts things. Never make a bed if you don't intend for someone to sleep in it.

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When I was in college, my parents bought and renovated a new 2 bedroom condominium unit in Makati. At first, the novelty of living so close to the mall excited me and I spent most of the my summer afternoons there even though the renovation was not yet finished. At that time, only 3 other units in our floor were occupied, the one next to ours and two on the other end of the floor. Afternoons in that place was always so quiet that one could hear everything, from the elevator bell at the end of the corridor to the scuffle of shoes as someone would walk around. I suppose it was just so quiet that it felt eerie, but soon enough I was beginning to get the feeling that there was someone else in the place even if I was alone. Afternoons were especially strange. Every afternoon at around 4-5 pm, I would hear someone walk from the elevator down the corridor towards our door then stop. It happened so often it was almost clockwork. At first the doorbell was not installed so I would always think that it's my mother come to pick me up. I would jump up and open the door without waiting for her to knock, expecting to see her coming down the hall. Instead, I saw nothing. Nobody, not a shadow nor footsteps to signify that it was probably hearing the neighbor walking at the other part of the building. Nothing but silence. After several episodes of hearing footsteps finding an empty corridor, I started to think that maybe this was something else. It always occurred at such a specific time that it couldn't be just the"building sounds". And it was always the same sound of footsteps from the elevator to our door. My initial excitement over the place soon turned to fear and I began dreading afternoons in our condo. Of course no one believed me when I told them about it. My parents blamed our neighbors, building sounds and even my imagination. But then stranger things began occurring. My brother claimed that he saw a child ran across the bedroom one morning when he was all alone in the place. Then he saw a man walking down our corridor and then vanish during an odd afternoon. While my aunt was staying there, she found the front door suddenly wide open even though there was no wind and she was certain she had locked it.

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Strangely, our drivers seem very susceptible to whatever is going on around the place. One night, while parking the car in the basement, our driver saw an unkept child playing in the parking area. There was something about the child's unkept appearance that made her presence in this building surreal. The children he usually saw in the building were middle class children, fairly clean and not running unattended in an empty parking area in the dead of night. This story was at the back of my mind when I heard the doorbell ring one night. I opened the door to find a child, a girl, dressed shabbily in a dirty dress. She looked odd. I knew she did not live in the building, so how did she get in and why was she at my door? It was so strange that I just stared at her as she stared back at me. My mum had heard me open the door and came out to see who it was.

"Who are you looking for?" My mum demanded. The girl did not answer.

When she repeated the question, the girl played with her dress.

"Si kuya (Translates to "my big brother")," she said.

"He's not here. Go," mother said and the girl ran off.

We never saw the girl again. After our old driver quit, we hired a new guy who -- surprise, surprise -- could "see" ghosts. It was through him that we learned much of the history of the family haunting our place. He said he saw a family of 3 living in our apartment. Actually, they tended to move around the building, living in different apartments but preferred ours since it was well decorated and mostly unoccupied. They were also seen living around the empty 3rd floor and the little girl was spotted riding the elevators. 

Apparently, hey were a homeless family who used to live at the building site long before the developer bought the land. The site used to be an empty lot belonging to the catholic seminary next door. They were often seen before hanging around the place but then suddenly disappeared. No one had seen them again

That is, until the building was erected 

[hauntedfrontier]

Lolo

The belief that the spirit of a loved one can come back in the form of a moth or a butterfly isn't apparently confined to Asian countries. In some Caribbean countries, some moths are believed to be the embodiment of lost souls, or even an omen for death. Even in the States, some people believe their loved ones have come back in the form of a winged insect. I'm still not sure myself if I believe it. As of yet, I haven't read where or how the belief started, but I'd like to share one experience I did have when I was a kid. 

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I was seven years old when my maternal Grandfather (or, as we call our Grandpas in the Philippines, "Lolo") died. At that time, he was visiting and staying with my uncle and his family in Cagayan de Oro City. I can recall the phone call wherein they informed my Mum that he had died and how inconsolable she was. By the next day, we were on an airplane, ready for his week-long wake. 

A wake isn't exactly the best place for a child to play but I was seven and Lolo's funeral was an unexpected vacation from school. Frankly, I was not that close to my grandfather. He and my grandmother were American citizens by the time I was growing up and this was one of 2 or 3 visits they've had since they were legitimized. G, who was the eldest cousin and who was initially raised by Lolo, was the most affected, but even this tragedy did not stop her from enjoying the moment. Grandfather's wake was the only wake at the funeral parlor at that time so we practically had a run of the place. Nearly all of the family had come over for the funeral so all the cousins were complete, and we were everywhere. Running, jumping, making a raucous in the funeral parlor. At night, when the "grown-ups" virtually left us home alone to stay at the wake (the maid was with us), the kids stayed up late and watched "The Price is Right" til the morning roster crowed. 

One morning during the middle of the week, G suddenly spots a moth while we're playing at the end of the room. 

"Look, look, it's Lolo," she cried and then she explained how sometimes the spirit of the deceased can come back as a moth. I take G's word for it and soon all the kids are calling the moth "Lolo". At first, it's all in good fun. I don't really believe that the insect is my grandfather, more like a resident moth. The moth hangs around the same spot at the back of the room for the rest of week and since the funeral parlor is across the park, I think the moth just likes the place because it's lighted and we bring a lot of food around. Still,it becomes a ritual for us kids to greet him as "lolo" whenever we'd pass him. At first, my mom and her siblings are startled to hear us greeting "Lolo" good-morning or catching us waving at it, then we point out the moth and they just smiled and thought we were being kids and playing something. 

Soon the week's over. On Sunday, we bury my grandfather. After the funeral, the party heads back to my Lolo's old house for some food and drinks. Since grandfather was a judge, a lot of people attended his funeral and they all came back to the house. I just remember the place being so packed I could not find my mother, so I stayed close to G. We were sitting in living room, eating, when in flew this large brown moth. I'll admit, I haven't seen that many moths in my lifetime but after seeing that moth everyday for the last week, I know that it's exactly the same moth we saw in the funeral parlor. Instantly, I jump to my feet. 

"Lolo! Lolo!"

G and my other cousins follow suit, and soon you had a bunch of kids waving and cheering at the moth that was perched on the wall above us. Even my American cousin, who didn't believe in it when we told him about in funeral parlor, joined in the cheering. With all of us calling "Lolo", the adults quickly ran towards us wondering what was wrong and we pointed at the moth. When they saw it, they waved at it and started smiling and saying, "Hi Pa" or "We're okay, Pa". It was easy to dismiss it as just another moth at the funeral parlor, but the fact that it went to home, to Lolo's home, clearly says something.

I personally think it was his way of spending some time with his grandchildren. Since he had spent most of his later years in the US, he really did not get spend any time with us. I've only seen him twice: I was too young to remember his first visit, the second was just a few weeks before flying off to CDO city. On his second visit, I could see that he was trying to connect with us kids, telling us stories and buying us toys and clothes, but I don't think I really cared about him. It felt different after the moth incident, though. The moth was always watching over us kids when we were at the funeral parlor, always hovering at the back wall, watching us play. And it felt nice knowing that "Lolo" was there, looking after us.

Later on, although no one would ever see the moth again, Lolo would still make an odd appearance or two, to show that he was still keeping tabs on loved ones. But that's another story...

[hauntedfrontier]

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[hauntedfrontier]

Missed Call

There's a tradition in the Philippines that started during the advent of the cellphone revolution. People would often purposely "miss call" a person to indicate that one "misses" the other, a technological pun of sorts.

Along with the new traditions, are new stories that have come with the ubiquity of having a cellphone. Who hasn't heard of people supposedly being buried with their cellphones and then calling their love ones from beyond the grave? 

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Last year, my father's secretary died from injuries incurred during a car accident. She had worked for my dad for more than 2 decades. Her death came as a shock. I was so used to seeing her behind her desk at my dad's office that I initially avoided visiting his place because not seeing her there would make it too real. 

Shortly after she was buried, my dad hired her niece as his new secretary and business slowly began to crawl back to its usual pace. Along with the new secretary, dad hired a new driver as the old one had quit. The new driver had never met dad's old secretary but knew about the tragedy. 

There had already been stories of the old secretary haunting the place, as was expected considering the amount of time she had stayed there. The events escalated during the week of burial. Some clients would come in claiming that they had called earlier to schedule an appointment and that the old secretary had answered the phone. Imagine their shock when they came in looking for her, only to find out that she had already died. 

One afternoon, my dad left his cellphone charging on his desk. I decided to stop by for a visit and Dad asked the driver to buy some snacks, while the new secretary, Dad and I watched TV outside his office. Minutes later, the driver came back with the purchase. As he did, his phone began ringing. Dad's number was blleeping on the screen. 

"Dad, you must have sat on your phone," I said. (My dad had a tendency to butt-dial people). 

Dad got up and checked his pockets. "No," he shoook his head, suddenly remembering that he had left his phone on his desk. Thinking that someone might have taken his phone, he walked in. As he went inside, the caller hung up. 

Dad found his phone where it was: charging on his desk. "Are you sure that was me?" Dad asked. 

Both the secretary and the driver confirmed that it was my dad's number as saved on the driver's phonebook. 

"You must have dialled his number by mistake," I said. Dad could have called him earlier and he must have redialled it by mistake. 

"But that's not possible," Dad said. He had never dialled the driver's number before and he did not even have his number saved in his phonebook. It was impossible for the phone to "butt-dial" or dial it by mistake. Someone had to punch in the driver's number to call him.

And yet, the room was empty. 

[hauntedfrontier]

Hospital Scare

It's almost Halloween folks. Time for the ghoulies and ghosties and 3-legged beasties to make bumps in the night. But before that, I'd like to share another odd tale from my time in the hospital. 

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For a good year I've been working as an intern in a local hospital. The place is a modern tertiary facility, large, well-lighted -- in other words, not the type of place that would make you think of ghosts. Naturally, since a lot of people have died in the place, you'd expect a lot of paranormal experience, but as an intern in my various rotations, I've done my share of midnight rounds without much funfare. 

One room was decidedly spooky, though. Our quarters. The intern's quarters was located on the second floor of the old building, a long ward-type rectangular at the back of the hospital, old and dismally lit. An air of uneasiness seemed to hang around the place with all the empty double deck beds and dark corners. I never liked being alone the room, even in the afternoon. Since the beds blocked the windows, little to nil light filtered in and the place was always dark. One never felt alone in that room. There was always this uneasy feeling of someone else being in the room. 

Because there were so few interns that year, soemtimes only 1 intern would go on duty for the night. 1 intern for a 300 bed hospital. I've often gone solo duty. I didn't mind it on weekdays when the other interns would usually sleep over for the night so they wouldn't have to come in early the next day. Weekend duties were harder though. Eveyone would go home for the weekend so I'd be left alone for the day.  

One duty, I decided to eat dinner before doing my rounds. There was another intern on duty with me but she was stationed at the ER so I was still alone in the quarters. The whole day seemed spooky for me, so I had spent most of the day doing rounds just to avoid being in the quarters alone. After dinner, I went to brush my teeth in the bathroom. I was in the bathroom when I heard someone calling my name twice.

"M--! M--!"

It sounded like my co-intern's voice, so I stepped out to ask her why. When I got out, however, the room was empty, the door closed and nothing was amiss. For a moment I thought I was imagining things. But the voice was distinct and clear and sounded exactly like E's (my co-intern). There was no reason for me to imagine that.

My co-intern informed me later that she had never left the ER. And yet I distinctly heard her voice calling my name. The fact that it even knew my name freaked me out so I rushed out and spent the entire night doing rounds. 

Naturally, no one believed my story despite the fact that the residents next door later told us that the place was haunted. It was not until a few days before our 1 year tenure was up, after eating lunch at the quarters did they start to believe me. One of my co-interns, T, was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, while a friend, J, and I sat outside the bathroom waiting for him. Minutes later, we heard him calling "What? What?" and J and I laughed, thinking, "Ok, T's loosing his mind."

When T got out, we asked him what he was hollering for. He said he heard someone calling his name. A female voice called his name twice and he asked us who had come by looking for him. J and I exchanged glances. We were the only ones outside the bathroom and neither heard anyone calling T's name. Yet T swears someone called him. A woman called him by name. Twice. While he was brushing his teeth. Same pattern as mine several months ago. 

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No one really knows who the disembodied voice is. Some of the residents who had been interns there said that there has been sightings of a little boy walking around the room. And one bed is purpotedly haunted. 

Another co-intern, F, who dorms in the quarters reports that she had seen a small boy once, sitting in our couch with his back to her. While the disembodied voices and experiences have escalated during times of stress, throughout our stay, only F has seen the boy. 

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Another co-intern, A, experienced a different sort of haunting. She entered the hospital mid-year and through most of her stay, several nurses and hospital staff have reported seeing her walking around the hospital, taking the elevators, etc. Only problem is, A isn't even in the hospital when they see her. 

No one knows for sure why A has a doppelganger. At first, we simply laughed at it but then the sightings became more and more frequent that everyone knew A had a "paranormal double". A claims she had never had a doppelganger before. She herself has never seen it. At one point, she tried burning insence to get rid of the double, only to realize that it only brought the thing closer. 

Shortly after the insence burning, another intern, K and I went into the quarters to pick up something. We were having a lunch conference upstairs and all interns were required to attend it. As we were coming in, we met the other interns coming out and I asked if there was still anyone inside. They said no and K stopped to talk to them. I went on into the room. As soon as I entered I saw A passing through the rows of beds at the far end of the room, shaking her trademark long, wavy tresses. I did not see her face but the body language, the stance, the trademark tresses -- it immediately registered as A.

I cried out, "A--! I thought you went upstairs?"

As I did, K entered the room. I turned to her then turned back to A, but by then the room was empty. I went towards the back and searched the beds thinking she must have decided to skip the conference and just hide under covers, but all the beds were neatly made and empty. As it turned out, A was already eating lunch in the conference. 

My sighting would be the last doppelganger sighting (that I know of). Just as mysteriously as it started, A's double was never seen again. 

[hauntedfrontier]

Sigbin

I had never heard of a Sigbin until two years ago when G remarked that she wished she had one, and my uncle, who was in earshot said that he had seen one.

A sigbin, according to wikipedia:

The Sigbin is a creature in Philippine mythology said to come out at night to suck the blood of victims from their shadows. It is said to walk backwards with its head lowered between its hind legs, and to have the ability to become invisible to other creatures, especially humans. It resembles a hornless goat, but has very large ears which it can clap like a pair of hands and a long, flexible tail that can be used as a whip. The Sigbin is said to emit a nauseating odor. 

My uncle describes the Sigbin he saw as a dog-like animal, the size of a man. No, this was not your usual Fido and certainly not something you'd want as a pet (sorry, G). The animal stood on both his hind legs and was frightening to look at.

He had seen it twice, both during full moons. The first time, he noticed a dog creature lurking around the vegetable garden. As he approached it, he realized it was too big to be a dog and that it was standing on it's hind legs. He quickly went inside.

Uncle saw the sigben again a few weeks later. Like the first sighting, this happened on a full moon. He was sitting outside his house, looking at the empty street when he saw the creature trudging down the road. In the clear light of the full moon, he saw it even clearer now although he was not sure if the creature had seen him. Just as he was about to move, the creature jumped up straight into the clear sky and vanished. My uncle never saw it again.

[hauntedfrontier]

Doppelganger

In fiction, folklore and popular culture, doppelganger is a tangible double of a living person that typically represents evil. (From Wikipedia)

In general, doppelgangers are not a popular theme in Filipino ghost stories, although they figure heavily in stories about fairies especially in the southern part of the Philippines. It is said that fairies use doppelgangers of people you know to sort of trick you and lure you into their world (not exactly doppelganger by definition in which YOU see YOUR own double)

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, my cousins used to go to Camiguin for the Lenten Season. Since I usually spent the summer with them, I was obligated to go even though I hated the island. Camiguin represented the closest thing to the edge of the world to me: rural (no McDonalds, not even a convinence store then), no telephone lines, no TV, surrounded by thick mango trees, surrounded by seven volcanoes and stories of fairies and kapres, with your only escape being a ferry that came every few hours. This was no paradise to a kid who didn’t eat fish or was used to watching late night TV.

It was during one of my first visits to the Island that I saw my first doppelganger. 

For some reason, most part of the island experienced a sudden blackout that afternoon. My cousin and I were out playing on the street with her cousins, enjoying the last few minutes of daylight before dusk would set it. There were 5 of us outside: me, G, her brother M and cousins R and E. One of G’s aunts came out and called her. For some reason, they couldn’t cook anything that night, probably due to the black out, so she asked M if she could go over to another cousin’s house and get the food. We decided to make an adventure out of it and G toured us around as we walked. 

We didn’t need to walk long as we met G’s cousin ML and her mom half-way to the house. Apparently, they decided to bring the food over themselves. Dusk was already falling, bathing the place in an eerie black-orange light and M suddenly suggested that we race back to our place. Before I could say anything, he and E ran, with R trailing right after them. Not wanting to be the last one left behind in fading light, I ran and saw G follow suit. I was a lanky kid and running was not my forte. Within minutes, I was panting and feeling that stabbing pain at my abdomen. I wanted to stop but G was right behind me and I did not want her to pass me and leave me behind. Somehow, I got it into my head that we were being chased by the coming night. At least it would have to get G first before it would catch me. (G later confessed that she had the same thought which was why she was running so hard)

Dusk had somehow transformed the route. While the place seemed peaceful and empty just a few minutes ago, G and I were a little surprised to find a lot of people walking in the street. We were more surprised though when we both saw E suddenly cut in front of me and head down a dark alley to my right. Since he cut in front of me, we both only saw his back and yet it was undoubtedly G’s cousin. The boy had the same hair cut, height, clothes and sandals. I stopped for a moment after he passed me and thought about following him down the alley, thinking that it must be a shortcut to their place. (G, on the other hand, knew that there was no shortcut thought E was hiding so he could started ML and her mom who was walking to the house.) Then, I felt G breathing at my back. I decided not to follow E and ran forward, keeping just abreast of G.

We were both breathless by the time we arrived home but we both expressed our surprise at seeing E already rested at home. 

“How’d you get here so fast?” G demanded, knowing full well that he didn’t take a shortcut. “I just saw you ran down the alley”

It was boys’ turn to be puzzled. “What are you talking about?” M asked. “E had been ahead of us the entire time.”

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It seems entirely plausible that what G and I saw was nothing more than another kid who in the fading light looked exactly like E. Being in a place like as mysterious as Camiguin does make people a lot more susceptible to strange occurrences. It’s a lot more strange, though, when it happens in an urban city like Manila. 

For some strange reason, our house, which had been so far ordinary for 20+ years, was suddenly being plagued by unexplained occurrences that year. Our maid seemed especially susceptible to it. She complained of hearing my voice calling her at 3 or 4 AM even though I was sound asleep. Once, she knocked at my room to ask where my Mum was. I said I didn’t know she arrived. 

“They just arrived. I saw her step out of the car and walk straight into the house without telling me what to cook for dinner,” our maid complained. After searching the rooms, we went back to garage to ask the driver only to find out that he had dropped Mum off at some meeting. She wasn’t even home yet. 

And yet our maid swears she saw her

I didn’t believe her until a few months later. Mum was coming home late after another meeting, and it was just the maid and me at home. At around 7pm, we heard the familiar sound of car horn blaring outside. I called the maid to open the gate. She did without further ado, and I waited by the door for the car to come in.

It never did.

The car was already up half of the driveway. Unfortunately, I could never memorize plate numbers, but the car in all counts looked every inch like our car. I could even make out the outline of our driver through the windshield, and a woman at the back (my mum?), laughing. And yet, the car just stood there, it’s headlights blinding us, not moving, eerie in it’s silence. Five minutes pass. Ten minutes. The maid and I exchanged glances. Suddenly, I feel a shiver run down my spine. The shadow of the woman continues to laugh at the backseat, but they both don’t move. They just stare at us with the headlights exposing us. It’s then that I realize that our normally busy street is suddenly quiet. No cars pass, and for some reason none of our neighbors seem to notice the strangeness of the situation. It’s almost as if time has stopped and I worry that if I shout for help outside, I know no one will come. I snap out of my trance-like stance and shout for the maid to shut the gate. We both hurry to close it. The car remains in place for another 5 or so minutes before silently driving away, lifting the strange veil from our street and soon the traffic returns as if nothing had happened. 

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More frightening still is actually seeing your own doppelganger (see Bumps in The Night). M, the center of the hauntings in their house, has lived to tell the tale.

[hauntedfrontier]

La Isla de Alcatraces -- my Alcatraz ghost story

What would a visit to San Francisco be without visiting Alcatraz? 

Called La Isla de Alcatraces by the Spanish, the forbidding island-prison museum seemed like a relic from past. If those thick fortress walls and steel grills could talk, one could almost imagine what they'd say. Still, a ghostly encounter was the least on my mind when I boarded the boat that would take us to the island. I had heard about the ghost stories and initially, had even wanted to night tour. I was not expecting to experience anything since I am not a psychic like my cousin. I did have some experience in "hearing" voices at haunted places, but more often than not, I visit haunted places with nothing more than the hibbie-jibbies. 

It was raining when we arrived with our tour group and I was more worried about freezing despite the 4 layers of clothes I wore (I live in the tropics so anything lower than 15 Celsius was freezing for me). Still, R and I were optimistic about the trip. First, we've always wanted to see Alcatraz. Plus it was also our first foray in the States without our parents overseeing us. Even before we got off the boat, we were snapping pictures and laughing.

They handed us our audio tours inside and we set off our own ways. R took his time, taking pictures with his new camera while I hurried on, wanting to stay ahead of the crowd that was building up behind us. I was starting to get the feel of the place. The sadness, the loneliness, the frustration of seeing beautiful San Francisco at almost arms' reach and yet separated by the bay, and how all these can quickly make anyone snap. Still, the overall vibe of the place was sad, not angry, not frightening. I'd say Alcatraz is probably the most depressing place on Earth. 

R was still trailing me when I got to block D, the infamous isolation row, and excitement filled me. I called him to take a picture of me in one of the isolation cells. Other tourists, who saw him wielding his DLSR around and supposed that he was a photographer of sorts, queued up and asked him to take a photo of themselves.

I entered one of the isolation cells (12D) but the sudden drop in temperature spooked me and I left quickly. Still, I wanted a picture inside "The Hole" and as soon as R finished taking pictures of other people, I asked him to take a picture of me in one of the cells. I didn't like the feeling I got in 12D so I opted to enter 11D instead, which felt much more "airy" and was less frightening than 12D. 11D did not have that oppressive cold chill and I didn't mind standing in the dark cell for a quick snap shot. R took the picture then proceeded to come in so that I could take his. I moved to the left corner of the room to make space for him and to take the camera. As soon as I did, I felt something cold brush against my left arm. Before that could even register as something odd in my mind, a moaning voice came from my left side at my corner of the room. A low sad moan coming from the floor; like something from the bottom of a pit. It did not sound scary. In fact, the first feeling I got was just sadness, unbearable. But it clearly didn't sound human, rather something otherworldly, and that's what scared me. Suddenly, all I could think about was getting out of the room as soon as possible. R was unfortunately in my way, so I pushed him away, banging against the grills, while screaming "Oh my god, oh my god" and sprinted out. As soon as I got out of the cell, other people were looking at me but I guess I was looking so pale and scared that some of them understood. They just gave a knowing smile and said nothing.

Leaving the cell didn't feel enough though. The entire experience left me feeling like I had to leave the island. Like I said, I'm not a psychic; I've never had my own ghost story. Alcatraz must truly be a place brimming with emotions and spirits for it to affect someone as "un-sensitive" as I am, and I'm not surprised considering its history. Places like this ought to remind us that inhumanity leaves not only physical marks, but affects the spirit as well, transcending time and space, and that sometimes, these walls do speak.  

[hauntedfrontier]

Once inside we shall cross a frontier into a region with its own laws of time and space, and when the seemingly impossible can happen...Do you understand what I mean and still want to go?

H. Russel Wakefield (The Frontier Guards)

[hauntedfrontier]

Read my older posts

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Do you believe in ghosts?

With all the scientific breakthroughs man has achieved, it’s hard to believe that there are still mysteries left in this world. The supernatural remains to be one of these mysteries that has eluded the rational mind; one of man’s final frontier which we will never conquer. Despite everything that we have learned in the past two millenniums – or some insist, it is precisely because of everything we have learned that many still find it inconceivable to believe in ghosts, monsters, poltergeists, or anything that cannot be proven by physical science. Debating about the proof of the occult, however, is tiring and useless, and not my cup of tea. Regardless of whether one chooses to believe in the unexplained or not, one cannot deny the almost sinful pleasure one gets when hearing a frightening story on a cold, rainy night. We love to be scared, and this is evident in the slew of successful horror flicks (and their endless sequels) and countless horror books in the market. Then, there are the “real” accounts. Ghost stories told from one friend to another. Urban legends that are supposed to have happened to a brother of a cousin of a friend of an aunt of a sister of a grandmother of an uncle’s brother. Poorly documented as they are, they do offer us a glimpse of another world and tempt us to believe. My cousin, G, is my foremost encyclopedia on these things (I blame her for instilling in me a fascination for the unknown). Aside from reading pages and pages of haunting accounts and mysteries, she lives in a haunted house herself. Most of the accounts I document here are her experiences or her family’s. Whether you choose to believe it or not is naturally up to you, but no one’s stopping you from getting a good scare.

[hauntedfrontier]

Horror on TV

There has been a surge in paranormal shows on TV during the past few years, both locally and on cable. I'm not really a fan of ghost hunter shows wherein they visit and certain place and try to "scientifically" prove if the place is haunted or not. I've always preferred the historical side, or the documentary part of haunting shows as opposed to the investigation.

Discovery Channel's "A Haunting" is primarily that, a documentary of a certain family's haunting experience. The episodes range from the really scary (those regarding demons, possessions, and entities) and the relatively mild (restless spirits). Nearly all of them happen in the US, which is a surprise considering Westerners are less prone to paranormal beliefs vs Asians, but I think that it adds more credibility of the experiences. What I really liked is that these are not your run-of-the-mill ghosts, not just one episode of seeing something white flash at the corner of one's eye.Rather, these are exceptional cases, the real frightening ones; those that will not only keep one wide awake until daylight but forces one to question the things we readily accept a truth and the ideas we quickly dismiss as just our imagination. "A Haunting" is shown at 11:00 pm local time. Skycable channel 39.

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Close Encounters of the Elemental Kind

More intriguing than ghosts, I suppose, are fairies. Ghosts, at least, are spirits of dead people, people who once breathed and lived with us. How are you supposed to explain elementals without entering the boundaries of myths and fairy-tales? This is I personally have a hard time accepting them. G, a longtime friend, is a firm believer in fairies. Her mother grew up in Camiguin Island, a small volcanic island off Mindanao; an island rich in mango trees, lanzones, hot springs, and elementals. Every time I doubt her “fairy tales,” she recounts to me what happened to a pineapple cargo ship a few years ago. The ship was on its way to Cagayan de Oro port to deliver pineapples for export. As was usual, they traveled throughout the night until they spotted lights in the horizon. Since they were nearing their port of destination, the crew surmised that the lights came from the port. They traveled on towards the light and found the port awash with lights but strangely empty. The crew docked the ship, and as they did, spotted a group of men heading towards them. Thinking that they were port personnel, the crew had no qualms when the men helped them settle and hauled out their cargo. They spent the night there in their ship, relaxing and sleeping. When morning came however, the crew got the shock of their lives. What used to be a clean port was now nothing more than a rocky beach. Their small ship stood amidst coconut trees a few distance from the beach. How their ship had even managed to run ashore without them noticing was a mystery. They had never reached Cagayan de Oro after all, but had somehow stumbled into a beach in Camiguin Island. G’s mother, having grown up there, is used to the strange air that seems to cloud the island. She told us about how she used to wander to the nearby beach as a child. Once, she went there alone. As she was walking, she noticed a man standing by a half-fallen coconut tree. He did not look like anyone from her town, so she decided to go back to the house. She as she turned, she say the man walk away. As he moved away from the fallen coconut, she realized that he had no legs to help him walk. In fact, the man’s upper torso floated on nothing but air. Slowly, he floated towards the beach and disappeared. They also used to have a neighbor, who had two sons and one daughter. The little girl would relieve herself by the mango tree outside the house and people often noticed her staring up at the mango tree for hours. One day she went out to the mango tree to relieve herself and did not return. Finally, her mother went out to look for her, and found the girl still staring blankly at the tree. No amount of rousing would wake her up from stupor, and so an albularyo was called. The albularyo (witch doctor) said that the girl’s spirit had been taken by fairies residing in the mango tree. To get her back, the family and some of the townspeople begun banging pots and pans around the tree as it was believed that fairies could not stand noise. After days of pot banging, the little girl got worst. The albularyo said that the fairies refused to give her back. He cast spells to help her and track her down. To their dismay, the fairies had taken her away from the island to Iloilo, where no amount of pot banging could touch them. There was nothing more they could do Their neighbors left soon after that. And when G’s mother married, she moved with her husband to Cagayan de Oro where she eventually settled in a quiet neighborhood outside the city. Strangely enough, she now shares their lovely, gabled, five bedroom house with the same beings that shared her island. to be continued...

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One Strange Night

(The following events were recounted to me by G and her brother M over breakfast at McDonald's) It was the perfect night for ghosts and ghouls (or so G tells me). The rain slashed against the tin roof of their house, almost as if it was setting the stage for something big. G and M were both retiring for the night. They both decided to sleep in the bar over the garage so as to keep each other company. The night was frightening enough with the storm and since their house was haunted, both decided it would be better to sleep in one room. Their dog, a small terrier called Sassy, slept along with them. The bar had a large glass window that looked out the street below. As thunder rumbled in the distance, G and M readied their cots and lied down. G watched ominous dark clouds blot the usual clear night sky. The tension in the weather was mounting, as if the weather was preparing for something, G thought. As if the storm was just the opening act. Sure enough, a flash of light filled the room. Lightning struck the curve of the road to the left of their house. M jumped up from his cot and saw it nearly hit an incoming car. The lucky fellow had hit the brakes just in time. Still reeling from the sudden brightness, it took moment for them to realize that the storm had suddenly stopped. The sky was suddenly clear, enabling them to see the now empty road even though the lightning had somehow shorted the street lights. Then, through the tranquil night sky they heard a howl rising up, crisp and clear in the eerie silence. Glancing down through the window, they saw a congregation of street dogs outside their gate. Practically all the street dogs in their neighborhood stood outside their gate, howling through the night. In the garage, their own dogs were crowding under them and joined in the chorus of howls. They all stared up at the empty balcony beside the bar, howling at something only the dogs could see. Both G and M swear that the balcony was empty. Mysteriously, Sassy, who was at their side the entire time, seemed blissfully unaware of the thing that was causing all the dogs to bark at their house. Nothing out of the ordinary was reported the next day, and though unexplained things still happen around the house, there was no increase in their activity. What happened on that strange night is rather an isolated incident, but not something G and M could ever forget.

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Bumps in the Night

Much of my paranormal experience comes from spending my summers at my cousins' house at CDO. To say that G and M's house is large is an understatement. In a span of eight years, the once gabled pink and white five bedroom bungalow mushroomed into a looming two storey edifice with a neighboring office building, a second floor bar and party area and a small tower that looked out to the vast empty lot next door. Inside, the constant renovation turned the once simple layout into a labyrinth of angles, dark spaces and openings that somewhat added to the eerie vibe, especially in the corridors. But strange events had already occurred even before the family had moved into their grand house. G and M remember hearing a high pitched voice call G's name as they hauled boxes through the dining area, even though there was no one around. At night, their two dogs would bark incessantly at something at the then empty corner of the garden (a 2 storey office building would later occupy it). Shortly after the moved in, it became apparent that something otherworldly was going on. The family had, as a tradition, Friday movie nights, wherein Uncle, Auntie, the kids and even the made would lock up and leave the house empty to watch movies at the theatre. Once, while the family along with their maid went out, they left the carpenters outside to work on the garage. As usual, they locked up the house while the carpenters worked on the garage outside. While working, they noticed a woman admiring the house from across the street. Minutes later, she came up and said that it was such a beautiful house that she wanted to see it from the inside. The carpenters said the house was locked and the maid was not around to let her in. But the woman stared at them, puzzled. "But I saw I woman standing with her back to the window." She described her as having black hair reaching to her waist and was wearing a white t-shirt and shorts. Now, it was the carpenters' turn to be baffled. They knew that the window on the second floor was purely decorative. It looked into a bare roof space that did not even have a floor to stand in. While uncle and auntie found the carpenters' story strange, they thought nothing off it. It was not until a Friday night incident that they began to take their housemates seriously. During their Friday night movies, they would usually leave the dogs out in the garden surrounding the house to prevent any burglary. Back then, they had 2 dogs: a mid sized half-dachshund called Prince and a pale talk mongrel called King, who were both notorious in the neighborhood as very adequate guard dogs. That night, the family returned late and expected the dogs greet them upon returning home. What greeted them, however, was an empty silent house devoid of any signs of their guard dogs. Immediately, the first reaction is that they've been robbed and the family rushed inside, expecting to a find their home stripped of every expensive item. But nothing has been touched and all the locks and doors are intact. Then, from behind the house, they could hear frantic barking. To their surprise, they find Prince whimpering at the ROOF of the maids quarters. How a short limbed dachshund could even end up on the roof defies logic, but then they find a shaken King LOCKED inside M's room. It is a feat in itself for a human to break into a locked house without so much as leaving a trace. For a dog to it requires something otherworldly It was clear by this time that someone else shared their new abode, but the family adapted to their presence. It was not unusual for dusty tables to clean themselves or touch lamps to sudden turn on even though no one has entered the room. At night, strange bumps rang from the corridor as if someone was patrolling the stairs and the second floor hallway. Eerie scrapings at the glass window or glass cabinets in the middle of the night once sent G and myself to bunk with our grandmother. Garbled sounds often called from the intercom, although one can't dismiss the obvious explanation that it might all been practical jokes or misunderstandings. Still, these were nothing compared to what M was experiencing. The haunting seemed to be more intense in M's room. After his -- birthday, M was woken up by the sound of his doorknob being turned and rattled, as if someone wanted to come it. Too scared to see who it was, he hid under his blanket for the rest of the night. The doorknob rattling continued, disappearing at some days only to reappear at another. The lack of sleep took its toll on his grades and M complained that a supernatural force kept playing basketball in his room while he quavered underneath the covers. At first, they thought he was simply making a story up to cover for his poor grades, but when the maid (who slept next door) complained that M's midnight dribbling was keeping her awake, the family realized that he had been telling the truth. M was moved to the room next door and his old blue room was converted into the guest room.

The change hardly deterred the others. M was still only a wall away from his old haunted room. He said sometimes he could hear crying from the other side of the wall. When G bought an old used blue stuff toy, she put it in M's new room as she did not have space for it in her new room. M reported that he'd hear crying coming from the toy's direction and after that, the bear was moved to the blue room. Even the neighbors began to tell stories. The house across theirs was throwing a party with the expected non-stop Karaoke singing. It was in the early hours of the morning and after finishing a song, the party goers were startled to hear clapping coming from the balcony of the office building. They turned to see a dark figure, hidden in the shadows, but distinctly male with M's build, clapping. Thinking that it was M, they started laughing and called him to join. Only when the figure suddenly disappeared did they realized that it could not possibly be M and the frightened party-goers quickly ran back into the house. Guests who slept in the infamous blue room also reported strange occurrences. Once, while trying to fall asleep, I felt someone lean over behind me and whisper "Hello" into my ear. It sounded like a gay version of M's voice and I jumped up, thinking that it was M (who was trying to sleep on the floor) playing a prank. When I confronted him, he ran out of the room and refused to spend the night there. I naturally followed suit A distant cousin, S, stayed in the blue room and said that in the morning he would see his sister sitting at the end of the bed, dressed in white and they would talk for hours. His sister had been dead for years. Other guests who stayed in the room, however, did not report anything out of the ordinary. The blue room had a generally airy feeling to it, nothing to imply its supernatural tendencies. The interesting thing it had was a small door through one of it's closets, which led to the roof space where all the wiring were. The albularyo noted that it was this door that served as their entrance to our world. Ironically, when the house was still new and we did not know any better: M, my brother and I would play in the roof space all afternoon as there was such a magical feel to it. M, in particular, liked to hide there whenever we played hide and seek. Apparently, they were attracted to M, and it was only a matter of time before they would cross the wall. The house was undergoing yet another renovation. Uncle was building a bar over the garage. The bar extended to M's window and M said he kept seeing a white lady running back and forth down the bar's length. Uncle also saw a lady in white with blond hair peek through the spiral staircase which led to the bar while he was talking to the carpenters. Then, one night, M awoke to find a black figure standing by his door. Paralyzed by fear, M could only stare at the figure as it watched him from the shadows. He could see a hint of its monstrous face but since the figure blocked his only exit, M knew there was nowhere to run. When he moved to the left, the figure mirrored him; when he moved to the right, the figure followed suit. M reverted to his tried and tested method of hiding underneath the covers and waited for morning to come. The next day, M awoke again, this time to find the figure now sitting at the end of his bed. The figure leaned forward a little and M was shocked to see that the monstrous face was gone, replaced by his own mirror image. Again, he ducked under the sheets and waited for sleep. His band members also began seeing the mysterious black figure. During a late afternoon band practice in the spare room above the office, the band members suddenly noticed a black head peek through the open door. Alarmed, they quickly stop playing. The head simply stared at them, not moving, that the band members thought it was M trying to startle them. They laughed and invited the figure to come in. The head said nothing, only continued looking that it began to dawn on them that it could not be M as he was expected to come at a later time. The all ran out through the opposite door. Other incidents occurred that seemed right out of a horror movie. (See "One Strange Night") The family began to take active measures against the others. What used to be the empty roof space was converted into a party area so as to kick these beings out of that unused space. After the party area was built, less was seen of the black figure. The last sighting was on April 2007. Auntie was heading towards the kitchen to get a rag. As she entered the dining room, she heard the chain of the door to the dirty kitchen swing even though there was no wind. Then, a figure materialized across her. A tall, dark statue like figure with skin that had a shiny, snakelike texture. It hopped stiffly, its arms rigidly straight at either side, towards the empty guest room next to the kitchen. Recently, there have been less reports of supernatural experiences from the house other than the dog barking at empty staircase every so often. M has moved out to a dormitory for college and is no longer haunted by the strange entities that used to plague his sleep. Who knows, maybe the renovation did finally drive them out...

[hauntedfrontier]

White Ladies

White Ladies are perhaps the most popular type of ghost in the Philippines. I have yet to meet an ghost enthusiast who does not claim to have seen or at least glimpse that active lady in white. There are stories of white ladies crossing highways in the middle of the night, thereby causing accidents as the drivers swerves to avoid her. I've heard of murderous white ladies riding uninvited in cars, apparently to kill the driver. People have told me of white ladies just lingering about their houses, a floating frightening woman in white that vanishes through the wall. I haven't seen a white lady, though, and honestly, I am in no hurry to see one. White ladies are somehow developed infamy for having a murderous or vengeful streak (thanks no less to MGB), and this results from the horrible way they died. Some of them are rape victims, killed and buried unceremoniously in whatever vacant lots the murderer could find. We have such a lot in Mindanao, and, yes, it is haunted by a white lady. My uncle, T, lived in that vacant lot for a couple of years until he finally married and decided to move out. The lot itself is already situated beside the local cemetery and has been subject of a lot of mystery. Within walking distance from the lot is a cave once used as a hiding place for the Japanese during WWII. However, there had been no reports of hauntings in the lot until the last decade when the white lady appeared. Uncle T moved into the lot around the mid-90's. The wide lot, which took up a side of a hill, had been unused and kept vacant except for a few mango trees which the family had planted there. He built a small "buhay-kubo" (wooden house on silts which was a popular and cheap way to build houses in the provinces), which was sufficient for a bachelor of his age. At first, there was nothing wrong with the place. In fact, the town was booming and within walking distance from the lot, a new cement factory was being built. A new cement road also opened the once secluded lot to the highway. Uncle bought a goat and started a small farm. His tranquil existence in the lot, however, was marred by eerie ambience that settled about the lot. Maybe it was just the mango trees, which have now grown into their lofty and massive sizes, that was adding to the already gloomy atmosphere. Uncle shrugged off whatever "hibigibies" he got and continued to live there. Still, he made sure his house and his goat stayed at the bottom of the hill, as far as possible from the town cemetery on top. One day, he noticed that his goat had somehow escaped his leash. It was mid-day, and the bright sun's ray shining through the mango leaves quenched whatever he feelings he had about the cemetery, or the lot itself. He decided to look for his goat. Uncle marched up the hillside, whistling for his goat. There was no sign of it around the trees or anywhere near the house. He went up, glimpsing the tranquil graveyard that crowned the hill. The air quiet except for the sound of a bird's singing. The song was not cheerful though. In fact, there was almost an eerie quality about it that Uncle had almost decided to leave the goat to whatever its fate was and go back down. But as he turned to head down, he caught sight of his goat standing at the cemetery -- and something else. There was a woman, standing where the cemetery met the family lot. She was dressed in white with hair reaching beyond the waist. She smiled at him and Uncle felt the hairs on his back stand. It was lunch time however, and there seemed to be nothing amiss about the woman save for her eerie smile and unusually long hair. He called his goat. All the while, the haunting bird song echoed behind him. Finally, he looked up at the woman. "Excuse me, miss, but do you know what is making that strange sound?" Her smile had yet to fade. "What do you think is making that sound?" A shiver ran down Uncle's spine. Whatever -- whoever she was, she certainly was not normal, and the eerie feeling he had was enough to make him turn to leave. He pulled his goat along down the slope, but not without stealing a final glance at the woman. In that few seconds he had turned to attend to his goat, she was gone as if she had simply vanished into thin air. This was not to be last of Uncle's run in with the white lady, however.