2. What is the weirdest thing you own?
I think the weirdest- possibly the creepiest in my opinion- thing that I own is an antique talking doll. Now, that alone isn’t so bad. However, this doll was brought over from South Korea by my grandfather, nearly… Good gods. He patrolled the DMZ over there, and he brought home a lot of things he probably shouldn’t have. So anyway, he brings home this doll for my mom, who’s only a little tyke at the time, says he got it essentially secondhand. So this fricking doll is at least 50 years old when I first meet it, and the thing only speaks Korean. Her dress is all faded, her eyes are cracking, and her voice is like this… I can’t really describe it? This thing honestly terrifies me sometimes, and luckily it’s at my grandmother’s house, but technically it belongs to me. I hate it so much. It sounds like something straight out of a freakin’ horror flick, stg. As for truly ‘weird?’ Nothing beyond this freakin’ secondhand, nearly century-old rasping, chipping, fading doll that only speaks Korean comes to mind.
5. Have you ever had an encounter with things that go ‘bump in the night’?
A fun fact: the first club I joined at university was a paranormal research/ghost hunting gig. I was a member for all four years, and I am technically still a member to this day. However, I joined as a skeptic. I remain a skeptic, despite a crapton of evidence suggesting I should just believe anyway…
That aside, there is one experience that comes to mind.
I have this friend; let’s call her Camilla. Camilla is the epitome of sweet, pure, soft, gentle sunbeam. The only time I have seen her be anything but has been when it comes to arguing over Stranger Things casting with me, but anyway- Picture a small (she’s like 5′2′’?) woman with really soft hair, wearing a lot of sweaters, and looks so young that she could still feasibly be mistaken as a really little kid.
So it’s my first ghost hunt. The team is doing a trial investigation at our campus chapel (it was originally a university founded by Lutherans- pretty liberal now, but some of the trademarks are still there), and Camilla is on my team, along with our pals ‘Eliza’ and ‘Zeke.’ The four of us are running an EVP session in one of the basement rooms- just the four of us. We’re sitting at a table in this room. The door is to the left, and to my right is the big, open empty space of the recording studio/storage area. Camilla is directly to my left, Eliza on her left, and Zeke is across from me at this rectangular table.
Ever the cynic, and a little sassy, I say “if you’re there, prove it. Poke my arm. Channel your thoughts through me. Something.”
And I shit you not, I felt a chill start with my right hand. I’m telling ya, lads- It felt like someone was trailing their finger up my right arm, across my back, down my left arm, and then letting go. I still have shivers thinking about it. But that? That wasn’t the worst part.
Just as I’m about to tell the gang what I had felt, I hear it.
Now, please remember the image of that soft, angelic, almost childlike individual I described earlier. She has a soft voice. It’s high-pitched, easily soprano 1. She can’t go lower than tenor, even when she had pneumonia. Her laughter is the tinkling giggle of a fairy.
It wasn’t that night. It was deep and thunderous. It echoed off the walls of that recording studio in a fucking boom. It was as if someone had hired James Earl Jones to record his most terrifying villain laugh. But it wasn’t even the laugh, man.
Now, when you do an EVP on a ghost hunt, normally you keep the lights off. Well we were all pretty tired, and Eliza kept saying that if we kept the lights off, she would drift off. And Zeke was sneaking in some homework on the side- Which was fine by me. So we had our lights on.
And normally the human pupil shrinks when there’s bright florescents, right? Not Camilla’s. Not that night.
Her pupils had expanded, and practically removed any hint of her beautiful green irises. Her eyes were black, man. It didn’t cover the whites like in shows like Supernatural or anything, but her pupils were as dilated as fucking humanly possible. And she was doing that horrible laugh !
We were panicking. She was unresponsive. We shook her, smacked her, anything-
But it just wouldn’t stop. She faced each of us with this maniacal grin, laughter never ceasing, pupils never shrinking, her skin practically burning. It took us nearly 47 seconds to slap her back to normal (I know, because I went back to the recording later).
To this day, she has no memory of any of this. Of how her skin cooled down, of how we watched her pupils constrict back to a normal level, of why she was so breathless and had terrified eyes watching her from all sides.
When we played back the recording on my phone (we kept recording on another device just to be safe), she was horror-struck. She was close to tears.
Camilla had no idea what had happened.
Well, needless to stay, we didn’t go back to that room for the rest of that night. We didn’t speak of it often. But it was the closest incident I’ve had to truly believing that there may be something more out there.
Oh! And there was that other time where there was a loud crashing sound in the one house we were investigating and things were being tossed about the room and a man was screaming “GET OUT!” at us all, despite the fact there was no one in that room, well-
Nothing that could be seen on all of the cameras we had set up.
And definitely no one in our party as were on the other side of the mansion, planning out our teams.
Not even the cat of the house wanted to stay there.
45. Have you ever worked a spell?
No… Maybe one day I’ll muster up the courage and funding to pursue some minor wicca spells to help nourish my garden, but not yet. ^_^;
