Username: twisted_superstition 

Published: 21/04/2021  21:14   

‘Ok, struggling to breathe now.’ My sister chuckled breathlessly as I hugged her even tighter. 

The airport terminal buzzed with activity as I bid goodbye to my sister and best friend, Anna. She’d recently accepted a job in the US, one which she was reluctant to give me any details of, and I could tell she was eager to get going. I finally let go and looked her right in the eyes. 

‘You let me know the second you land, ok?’ I said, squeezing her hand as I held it in mine. 

‘It’s just a flight Ali, I travel for work all the time,’ she said, rolling her eyes but squeezing my hand in return all the same. 

‘I know, but this time you’re staying and I’m going to miss you.’ The words were getting caught in my throat as I felt my eyes fill. 

Anna could clearly tell, I noticed her begin edging closer to the queue for passport control. 

‘Right, I love you and I’ll text you when I land.’ She said, pulling up the handle of her suitcase. 

‘Don’t forget to make a wish at 11:11 when your flight lands!’ I shouted after her. 

She laughed as she shook her head and waved to me. She hated stuff like that: superstitions, old wives’ tales, you name it – so naturally I loved to wind her up with them. I watched her dragging her extra-large suitcase as she walked away, before disappearing out of sight. 

I spent the rest of the day catching up on all my housework and the place was looking spotless; I always was a neat freak. I figured I’d earned at least half a bottle of wine and a two-person Chinese takeaway for one, after all – housework is exercise. 

I collapsed onto the sofa and began scanning Netflix for some easy watching, the wine would make me sleepy for sure.  

I woke up when my phone vibrated in my pocket, I must’ve dozed off watching whatever it was I’d put on earlier. I clawed around in my pocket and fished out my phone, it was Anna. 

‘Hey! I’m here! It’s bloody boiling, but that’s Nevada for you. I’m knackered so going straight to collect the keys to my NEW FLAT! Sleep well, I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Love you xx’ 

I replied with a few kisses and reached for my wine glass – she wouldn’t read it, but it felt rude to say nothing. With that I resigned to bed, my cheeks still warm from the volume of wine I’d consumed earlier. 

I woke up the next day just after 12:00, I’d gone to bed later than I’d intended and must’ve fallen into a deep, wine-assisted sleep. I checked my phone, I’d received a couple of work-related emails, which I chose to ignore, but that was all. Nothing from Anna since last night, she must’ve been really busy after she landed. I decided not to text her yet, I didn’t want to wake her if she was trying to sleep, and I knew she’d call me when she was settled. Sluggishly, I made my way to the kitchen in search of food, keen to bring my findings back to bed with me for the day. 

It was around 20:15 when I realised I’d still not heard from her. It would’ve just gone midday in Nevada, so she’d surely be awake by now. I sent her a short, slightly nagging text. 

‘Oi, sleepy head. Are you alive yet? I want to hear about your new place xx’ 

Not delivered. 

The words appeared underneath my message. I tapped to retry. 

Not delivered. 

I tried again a few times, but the result was the same. I decided to just bite the bullet and call her, she knew I was the worried older sister, it was fine. 

I tapped to dial and put the phone to my ear. It took a couple of seconds to connect and when it did I was greeted by the strangest dialling tone I’d ever heard. It reminded me of the old dial-up internet sound, but there were other sounds mixed up in it. Weird, guttural sounds as if someone were being drowned or choked. The connection dropped. I tried again and got the same dialling tone, before the connection dropped for a second time. 

I was starting to panic, unsure if I was just overreacting like Anna said I always did. Maybe her battery was low? She was in Nevada, maybe she was in the desert on a hike and the signal was bad? I tried my best to put it out of my mind, opened a fresh bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. I sat staring at the TV, unable to focus on whatever it was I’d put on to distract myself, and tried to convince my head that everything was ok. 

I’d still heard nothing by the next morning and I felt sick to my stomach. My messages still wouldn’t send and every time I called it was those same weird sounds. My heart was pounding, I had no idea what was going on and I didn’t know what to do. There was no one I could call. Both our parents had died when we were young and we didn’t have any other family. I didn’t have many friends, everyone at work hated me – I was the boss, and I was equally as highly-strung there, too. What would I even tell the friends I did have? Should I call the police? What would I say? 

I had an idea. I opened Facebook and sent her a message, asking her to get back to me as soon as possible. That was all I had in that moment. I did my best to put it out of my mind. We were really like-minded, she would definitely find a computer and reach out to me if she was having phone troubles. Another idea hit me later that afternoon. I sent her an email, similar to the message from earlier. 

The evening rolled around and I’d received no response, she’d not even read the Facebook message. I called again, it felt pointless at this stage but I didn’t know what else to do. The same strange dialling tone, if you could call it that, and then I heard a click and the line went silent. I’d been cut off again. I looked at the screen. 

Connected.  

My heart jumped into my throat as I hastily put the phone to my ear. 

‘Hello?’ My voice was a mess of emotions. ‘Anna? Anna are you ok?’ 

Silence. The line was still connected. 

‘Anna? Are you there? Speak to me.’ 

I heard breathing, but it wasn’t Anna. Wet, raspy breaths seemed to slither through the speaker and into my ear. My blood ran cold. It almost didn’t sound human. 

‘Who’s there?’ My voice came out deep, like I was swallowing thick liquid. 

The phone disconnected. 

‘I’m telling you, she’s been abducted, or… Or kidnapped!’ I yelled at the police officer, who looked down at me with an annoyingly sympathetic face, as I sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. 

‘I understand you’re upset, Madam, bu-’ 

‘Don’t call me Madam,’ I snapped. ‘It’s Ali.’ 

I don’t know why I felt it mattered, perhaps I needed to feel like I was being treated like an actual person, rather than just another nutter who’d wandered in off the street. The officer looked at me with that irksome expression again and crouched down by my side. 

‘We’re doing all we can with the resources at our disposal,’ he continued. ‘As far as we can tell, your sister did everything you said she had planned to do after she arrived. The agent she collected her keys from said that she got into her new place safely, and the doorman of her building has confirmed that a woman matching her description has been coming and going for the last day or so.’ 

‘But someone answered her phone, I heard them breathing.’ I said, exasperated. 

‘It could be that someone stole her phone.’ 

‘No.’ I said, flatly. ‘That doesn’t make sense. Those noises… And she would’ve gotten hold of me some other way by now if that did happen. Which it didn’t.’ 

The officer looked as though he was going to shrug, but clearly thought better of it based on the fire blazing from my eyes. 

‘We will reach out again to see if anything has changed tomorrow,’ he said, as I let out a large huff of disapproval. ‘For now, there’s nothing to suggest anything sinister has taken place, and I’d strongly suggest you go home and get some sleep.’ 

I stormed out, my chair falling backwards from the force of me standing so quickly. 

The doorbell woke me early the next morning. I threw on my dressing gown and rushed down the stairs to open the front door. The postman was standing there, holding out a stack of letters that had been tied together, and was looking at me with disinterest. I took them and he turned to walk away before I could even say thank you. I closed the door and glanced down at the topmost letter, my stomach leapt when I saw my sister’s handwriting and the Air Mail insignia. She was ok. 

I pulled the envelope out from the stack it was tied to and did a double take. The second envelope had the same handwriting. I took it out. The third was the same. And the fourth. I took the stack to the kitchen counter and tipped them onto it. Twenty letters, and they were all from her. Each one had a different number in the bottom right corner. 

I tore into the letter numbered ‘1’ and read: 

Ali, 

I don’t know what to say. I’ve tried to text and call, but nothing will go through. I’ve even tried other people’s phones, but I can never reach you. I don’t know if you’ll even get this letter, but it’s all I could think of. 

I’m not sure how to explain what’s happening, because you’re just going to think this is a wind up. 

I was on the plane; we were circling the runway waiting to land when I remembered what you said about 11:11 and making a wish. I know I always tease you about that stuff, but I guess I was feeling so emotional about being this far away from you that I waited for my phone to tick over so I could make a wish. When it changed from 11:10 the screen kind of flickered, but I thought nothing of it. 

The time didn’t change on my phone that whole day. I figured it was some kind of glitch and ignored it because I was so busy. 

I got my bags, collected my keys, got to my new flat – it’s epic, by the way – and went to sleep. I woke up again when it was getting dark and went out to get something to eat. I brought it back, put on the TV, and just kind of zoned out to relax – then all of a sudden, I’m back on the plane looking at my phone. 

From there it just kept happening. The same day over and over. My phone always stuck on 11:11. I’m on my tenth time around now. I tried calling you earlier, but I knew it wouldn’t connect. 

I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.  

I want you to know I love you, and I’m sorry if I ever made fun of you for worrying. I know you were just looking out for me.  

I hope you’re not stuck like I am. Don’t let anxiety hold you back from life. 

Forever your sister, 

Anna x 

I let the paper fall from my hands and fell to my knees, broken. 

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Username: twisted_superstition 

Published: 22/04/2021  10:47 

There are things in this world I fear we’ll never understand. Events beyond all comprehension. It stands to reason that people look for ways to explain or justify these occurrences, and over the years these retellings become myths and legends, or manifest to create superstitions and old wives’ tales. 

I’m setting up this webpage because I recently suffered a trauma that logic simply could not make clear.  

Two months ago I lost my sister. The police tell me she’s alive and living in the US. They say that I’m looking to fabricate my own version of events, because I can’t deal with the breakdown of my last familial relationship. They’re wrong. My sister is missing, trapped in a day that will never end. I know this to be true, because I know our bond could never break. She would never do what they’re claiming she’s done. 

I will never know what truly happened to her – never know who this person is that’s supposedly living Anna’s life. I simply cannot locate them. They don’t want me to. 

My first post was her story.  

I’ve shared it with hopes that others will come forward with their own stories, things that they simply cannot explain with any known science or natural phenomena. 

There are things out there, watching us, interfering with our lives. Whether they be living beings or unknown forces, I do not know. But we cannot ignore them. We must search for an answer, together. 

So I implore you to get in touch by using the submission form, so that we can learn from each other, and uncover the truth behind the tales. 

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Username: AJ_UK259 

Published: 13/09/2021  02:04 

I don’t know if you’re still monitoring this message board. It looks like I’m the first person to send a story. Everyone else I’ve spoken to thinks I’m crazy, so I hope you see this and that you understand. 

Almost a year ago I got into a pretty bad car accident. I was in a coma for over a month, the consultants said I might not wake up but obviously I did. Ever since then, I’ve noticed I have this weird double vision that glasses can’t correct. It’s as though every person I look at has this weird blurry silhouette of themselves that follows them about a step behind. The opticians have found no issues with my eyesight and my consultant says I could have sustained minor brain damage but could find no evidence to back up that diagnosis. 

Even I have a blur, I see it every time I look in the mirror. It’s like there’s someone standing directly behind me, so close they’re practically breathing down my neck.  

I didn’t know at first whether it was paranoia, but I was sure I could feel something watching me. I had this horrible sensation like I was being stalked, or like someone wanted to cause me harm.  

I started to feel unsafe when leaving home; I got the feeling the blurs were watching me, like me noticing their existence had them concerned or something, but nothing ever came of it, apart from my growing sense that I was being closely watched by this malevolent presence. If they really were watching me, they couldn’t do anything.  

I say this all in the past tense because at the time I didn’t know for sure whether I really was going mad. I know now that I’m not, that I was right about it all. 

I finally started venturing out a couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t stay inside and let whatever this was consume my life. I dove right back in at the deep end and went into town to grab some shopping. I won’t pretend that I was fine, I felt sick the entire time. The blurs still felt like they were looking back at me whenever I paid them any notice. I tried to keep my head down for the most part; never spending any longer than I needed in any of the shops and taking the shortest routes between one and the other. I was waiting for the bus home when I looked up, just for a moment, and saw a young girl standing with her mum waiting for the traffic lights to change. They both had their blurs about a step behind them, the same as every other person I could see. This girl must’ve been about 6 years old; she was holding a pink balloon in one hand and her mum’s hand in the other. Her mum appeared to be struggling with a large volume of shopping bags and let go of her daughter’s hand for a second to readjust her grip. 

I watched as the young girl’s blur took a step forward until it was perfectly aligned with her, though I could still see it as a faint aura around her. The girl let go of the balloon and it flew, caught by a gentle breeze, out into the busy road. The girl ran straight out into the traffic and was hit immediately by a large SUV. I wanted to shout out to her, to alert her mum, but I didn’t have the time. Paramedics eventually arrived and she was taken away in an ambulance, but I knew she was dead from the instant her body hit the ground. After the impact, I saw her motionless little body in the road and watched as her blur stood up, as if it were climbing out of her body, before it faded away. 

That was the moment I knew I wasn’t crazy. Each and every one of us has a blur; I don’t know what they are, but I’m pretty sure it was the blur that made the girl let go of her balloon and run out into the road. 

I wish that was all I had to share, but there’s more, and it gets weirder. 

I decided to get counselling, not because I was seeing the blurs (well not exactly to do with that), but because I struggled to cope with leaving my flat after I saw that girl die. I kept feeling like something bad was going to happen, like my blur would try to kill me if I gave it the opportunity. I spoke to someone over the phone – I really wouldn’t leave the house. 

In my most recent session a few days ago, my counsellor suggested I try going outside the main entrance to my block, all she wanted me to do was go downstairs, step outside the door, and come back up. She would wait on the line until I got back. 

At the time, I was sat on the sofa in my lounge, the sun was beaming in through the net curtains. 

‘Touch wood that I don’t fall down the stairs,’ I said to her, kind of jokingly and knocking twice on the hardwood end table next to me. 

The second I did it I saw this white flash and suddenly everything looked like I was underwater. The room looked a bit wavy and seemed to sparkle brightly. The counsellor asked if I was ok because I’d gone quiet – I told her I was fine and just psyching myself up to go out. I set down the phone and, before I left, checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I really wasn’t expecting what I saw. It looked like my head was surrounded by this glittering, white bubble. It was sort of floating around my head, shimmering. The blur, as always, was still just a step behind me, but I don’t know… I got this feeling like it was afraid, maybe? 

I left the flat and approached the top of the concrete staircase. As I reached for the handrail I felt it: a damp chill straight to the bone as the blur stepped forward and merged with my body. I suddenly got the feeling that I wasn’t in control, that I’d taken a backseat and the blur was at the wheel. My ankles gave way as I missed the first step and went to fall headfirst down the stairwell. I expected to feel my head colliding with the concrete, but instead I felt like someone was pulling me backwards – like I was attached to a safety rope or something. I stumbled back a few paces and felt the control of my body returning to me, my bones no longer feeling cold. I saw another white flash and my vision returned to normal, it no longer looked like I was underwater. I ran back into my flat and looked in my bathroom mirror, my blur was still there, but it was much further back than I’d ever seen it – at least 6 feet – and there was no more glittery bubble. 

I went back to the top of the stairs, grabbed the handrail firmly and made my way down safely, before returning to my flat and telling the counsellor of my success. 

Since then I’ve not stopped thinking about what happened. What saved me? What are these blurs and what do they want? Was it knocking on the wood that saved me? Because that’s when I saw the flash of light. Has anyone else ever seen things as I see them? Is that why we knock on something wooden and say: ‘touch wood’? 

There’s too much that I don’t understand. 

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Comments: 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 14/09/2021  10:32 

@AJ_UK259 thank you SO much for reaching out. I was starting to think nobody would ever send me anything. What you’ve been through sounds awful, and I want you to know that I don’t think you’re crazy. You say that multiple medical professionals have found no sign of any issue, so I won’t insult you by suggesting that what you’ve experienced was directly caused by your accident. I know from my own experience that there may well be forces/entities around us that influence our lives, and that they may have been doing so for quite some time. 

Do you still see the blurs? Is yours still maintaining a distance? 

‘AJ_UK259’ on 14/09/2021  17:24 

@twisted_superstition it’s great to hear from you, and so quickly as well. The blurs are still there, that hasn’t changed. Mine is right behind me again now. It still feels like the blurs know that I know something, if that makes sense? Any thoughts as to what they might be?  

‘twisted_superstition’ on 14/09/2021  18:00 

@AJ_UK259 I don’t want to add to your concerns, but perhaps you’re right? Perhaps they do know that you know something. I really have no idea as to what they could be, but if I’m speculating (and I really mean speculating), I think it sounds almost spiritual? Like a manifestation of fate or something? I’d also call it a huge coincidence if that light appearing after you knocked on the wood, AND you being mysteriously saved, was unrelated – but I have no theories where this is concerned. 

‘AJ_UK259’ on 15/09/2021  21:26 

@twisted_superstition I HAVE AN UPDATE! I know it might’ve been dangerous, but after I read your last comment I thought I’d try it: tempting fate. I was standing in the lounge about to eat a grape, and I said, ‘Touch wood I don’t choke on this’, then knocked on the wooden table. It happened again: that flash of light and vision like being underwater. As I raised the grape to my mouth, I felt the blur step into me, went cold, and lost all control again. I put the grape in my mouth and tried to straight up swallow it – I couldn’t stop myself. I started choking, struggling to breathe, and then it was like someone gave me the Heimlich or something and I coughed it up. BOOM – flash of light, no more water-vision, and I felt warm again. Someone in the past MUST have come to the same realisation as I have, why else would there be any substance to the whole ‘touch wood’ thing? I know it doesn’t give us any real answers. I still don’t understand what it’s all about, maybe an angel is watching over me, but I know I’m not going to say anything that tempts fate again. 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 15/09/2021  21:49 

@AJ_UK259 it sounds as though this is a prime example of inexplicable events being passed on and becoming superstition. You should be careful not to risk your life in future, though. If, like you said, these things are indeed on to you, best to keep your head down and not draw attention to your revelation. We don’t know what these blurs are, or the extent of their intentions. Stay safe. 

‘AJ_UK259’ on 16/09/2021  01:10 

@twisted_superstition you too. 

Is there any update on your sister? 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 16/09/2021  09:23 

@AJ_UK259 unfortunately not. But where I believe your case to have spiritual ties, I think with Anna the answer lies in science, I just don’t know of any science that can do what it’s done to her. And I can’t think of any reason why anyone on Earth would want to take her life. Or takeOVER her life, I should say. 

Username: qwerty123 

Published: 23/11/2021  07:16 

I was working from home a couple of weeks ago and heard something smash in my dining room. I went to check it out and saw that a glass vase had been shattered on the dining table. I looked around the room and saw a Magpie crumpled on the floor, it must’ve come in through the open window (was getting some fresh air in as the weather seemed nice). The thing was clearly dead, I could see its wings all stuck out at odd angles. I’m glad the kids weren’t home; they’d have been distraught. When I went to pick it up, I noticed it had metal and plastic parts showing; the feathers were thin in places and underneath was a kind of metal casing. I know it sounds morbid, but I had to open it up. I grabbed a screwdriver and took it to my study.  

I was about to dismantle it when I noticed a USB connection port inside its beak. I have hundreds of random USB cables and managed to find one that fit, so I hooked it up to my laptop. Looking back, this was stupid. It could’ve contained any number of viruses or malware. I think I assumed it was just like, some kind of toy drone or something? As soon as it was connected, it took over my entire screen. After a loading bar and a prompt saying it had auto-detected English (UK) as my preferred language, this program opened up and in a small window I could see myself, upside down and looking increasingly confused. It turned out one of the eyes of the Magpie was a camera, the crash clearly hadn’t knocked out its processors as the image was crystal clear. I turned it away from me quickly, I felt uncomfortable with it filming me.  

There was a menu bar with dozens of folders and subfolders. I saw hundreds of video files. I know I shouldn’t have kept snooping, but I couldn’t help myself. You’d have thought there would’ve been some form of encryption all things considered. I watched several of the videos and saw that this thing had been following people, watching them as they went about their day. In a few of the videos I saw people salute – I know that’s just what some people do when they see a Magpie, but I swear some of these people looked right into the eye/camera when they did it. And there was something uniform about their salute, too. It was slower, like they wanted to be sure they were seen by the Magpie. They would only bring their forefinger and middle finger to their temple, their fingers slightly apart. They always looked solemn and serious. 

Then I went scouring through the documents. If it’s possible, I found them even more disturbing. 

Many of the files were detailed profiles of various people. There would be a photo of them in the top left corner and then just a TON of information about them: their full name, address, contact details, their daily routine, working hours, work address, bank statements, internet browser history, names and addresses of family members. It was insanely comprehensive. 

Each one of the files was concluded with a logo, an eye with a small star and the number 1066 in the pupil, followed by a kind of serial number. 

The last file I found was the most disconcerting; it was just labelled: code. I wrote down what it said and have added it below: 

1. The Target 

2. Target’s significant other 

3. Target’s youngest daughter 

4. Target’s youngest son 

5. Target to receive 

6. Target in arrears 

7. Contract Closed 

Now, I’ve thought about this for a while and, I’ll be honest, I was thinking that the list was based on that old poem: 

One for sorrow, 

Two for joy, 

Three for a girl, 

Four for a boy, 

Five for silver, 

Six for Gold, 

Seven for a secret never to be told. 

But what if it’s the other way around? Someone is spying on us using robotic Magpies, they’re talking in codes, and I’m pretty sure they’ve got agents from seeing those people salute in such a way. 

What if they’ve been doing this for years? Sure, they probably didn’t have mechanical birds in the past – but what if it’s some kind of cult or secret society? That number in the eye on the logo, 1066, was that when they were established? Or are they just super obsessed with the Battle of Hastings?  

Whatever it is, it seems pretty sinister. I really wish I hadn’t plugged in that Magpie. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say… 

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Comments: 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 23/11/2021  15:12 

@qwerty123 you need to get rid of that thing if you haven’t already. This is some serious stuff you’ve uncovered, and I don’t think it’s safe for you to keep hold of any trace of it. Wipe the laptop, delete your post – you can’t be too careful. I don’t doubt a thing you’ve said here, I really don’t, but I think what you’ve come across is dangerous. This definitely seems like another example of a superstition with real substance, and in that case, it would only make sense for this to have been going on for years. I’m always astounded by how much we don’t know about the world around us. 

‘qwerty123’ on 23/11/2021  20:39 

@twisted_superstition It’s stopped working. I couldn’t stop myself looking through everything on there. I’ve really been digging through the different files and you wouldn’t believe the stuff I’ve found. Some of the documents go back YEARS. There’s even a bunch of scanned documents from the 1800s. I think they go back even further but I didn’t get a chance to go through anything else before the software shut itself down. The thing is completely dead now. I tried unplugging and replugging to see if it would restart but to no avail. I agree that I should get rid of it, I’ll take it out and dump it tomorrow. I can’t delete this post though. The truth is important; it has to get out! Every time I see a Magpie now I feel uncomfortable, there’s one sitting in the tree outside my window at the moment. I don’t think I’ll ever look at them in the same way again. 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 24/11/2021  10:14 

@qwerty123 good. I’m glad you’re getting rid of it. You really shouldn’t have delved any deeper, but I’m really interested to know what you found. Don’t post it publicly, I don’t think that would be wise, but would you send it to me in an email? My address is at the top of the page. 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 27/11/2021  11:18 

@qwerty123 just checking in as I haven’t heard back from you yet. Would really like to hear from you regarding your comment. 

‘anonymous’ on 28/11/2021  05:54 

@twisted_superstition  

merseysideexpress.co.uk/news/article-789001/father-of-two-found-dead-in-suspected-suicide.html 

No more questions. 

Username: bjefferson42 

Published: 12/12/2021  03:58

I’ve always known there were things going on that the government weren’t telling us. I’m on all the sites for the believers, gotta get my stories out there. 

First off – you’re right, there are things around us, watching what we do and influencing stuff. They’re called Extra-terrestrials, maybe you’ve heard of them? Course you have. They’ve been here for thousands of years. Ancient Egyptians? Aliens. The Roswell UFO crash? That was aliens too, of course, but different ones to the Egyptians. Greenies I call them. Back in ’77 they took me – did all kinds of experiments on me. I remember being home one evening when this bright light surrounded my house, I went out to get a look and WHOOSH, up I went. They had me up there all night, prodding and poking, they probed me too, got RIGHT up in there they did. Ain’t never felt nothing like that before and I don’t care to again neither. 

They put a chip in my head when I was up there and, ever since they dropped me back, I’ve been able to see them; all the ones trying to hide among us? I can see them all. People were on the right track when they said The US President was a Reptilian (that’s a kind of alien, if you didn’t know), but it weren’t Obama. That’s all I’ll say about it in case they’re watching me. 

Now the doctors said there ain’t nothing in my head – except for my brain. They said they can’t see no chip. Well, I told them, it’s because the Greenies have got special tech that hides it, ain’t they?  

But you’re looking for stories about superstition and stuff, ain’t you? I got one for you. 

There’s these aliens, the Taenia, real nasty things they are, feed on human brains. Once they pick their victim, they follow them around waiting for an opportunity to suck them dry. They’ve got these camouflage devices so you can’t see them. They’re most likely to strike when you sit down to eat – you lean your head forward ever so slightly and that’s how they get the best angle, see? Base of the skull at the top of your neck, they stick their mouth right on and start sucking.  

I’ll explain to you what they look like since none of you would ever have seen them. 

They’re basically like giant slugs, but they got big enough bodies that they can kind of stand upright. They’re pretty quick, too; once they’ve got you in their sights, they won’t lose you. They got these mouths a bit like a leech, they latch right onto you real tightly, and there’s these enzymes they’ve got that mean you don’t feel it and they heal you up once they’re done. So there’s no sign – apart from you being dead and all. 

You’re probably wondering how this relates to the title of my post, right? Well it’s salt what kills them, just like regular slugs. Hit them with a bit of salt and they fizz away until there’s nothing left, and since it’s when you’re eating that they like to get you, you throw salt over your shoulder to protect yourself. 

Another thing I should’ve mentioned – while they’re attached, they can choose to take control of you if they want to. Some of them eat your brain, then take control of your body and go walking around in it until they get hungry for another brain. That’s why if you spill the salt, you gotta throw some over your shoulder. You never know if it’s a Taenia what’s got you. 

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Comments: 

‘bjefferson42’ on 12/12/2021  04:01

@twisted_superstition you said in your original story that the law reckons your sister is alive and walking around like there’s nothing wrong? Do you reckon it’s a Taenia what’s got her? 

‘TotalN00Bkilla’ on 15/12/2021  16:13 

@bjefferson42 MATE. OMFG. I found this site when I was googling conspiracies and stuff. The first few are crazy but yours is ******* hilarious. You serious? You’re a ******* nutjob. No wonder you didn’t get a reply like the others did haha. 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 16/12/2021  09:07 

@bjefferson42 I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to respond to your post. Firstly, I’m sorry for the comment made before me, I’ve blocked the user from posting again. Ok, so your post – wow, it really sounds like you’ve been through a lot. Thank you for sharing. It’s a lot to take in all at once. While I don’t doubt that you’ve held witness to some inexplicable sights, I think it might be your slightly… erratic storytelling that leaves me feeling a bit incredulous? I would be very interested to know how you gained such a thorough knowledge of events that took place in the years before you were abducted, or even before you were born? And no, I don’t believe my sister to have been possessed by a Taenia, but my search for answers still continues. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 17/12/2021  02:35 

@twisted_superstition the chip they gave me gives me all this knowledge that the Greenies had access to. They got a database of different aliens and what they’ve done on Earth. That’s how I know about the Egyptians. Stone Henge was aliens, too. It’s actually a transmitter – picks up all sorts and sends it up to them. Easter Island – those heads? Aliens. Made those statues in their image – preparing us for when they finally reveal themselves. 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 18/12/2021  18:08 

@bjefferson42 well thank you so much for sharing. It’s important we get these things out in the open. Have a Merry Christmas. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 19/12/2021  03:21 

@twisted_superstition don’t celebrate it. You know that Jesus was one too, right? People said he came from heaven, but he was trying to say he came from the heavens – as in space. 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 19/12/2021  20:22 

@bjefferson42 I think we should leave it there; I don’t want to offend people’s religious beliefs. One last thing – you mentioned that one of the Presidents was a Reptilian, might I ask which one? 

‘bjefferson42’ on 19/12/2021  05:27 

@twisted_superstition the orange one. 

Username: MaryB1973 

Published: 25/12/2021 13:38

I was in two minds about sharing this, but I’m at my wits’ end. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I know that it’s Christmas Day, but I’m alone and scared. Scared for my boy. He’s currently in jail while on trial for murder, one he says he didn’t commit. They say I’m not supposed to talk about it, so I hope you’ll forgive me for omitting all names, but I know he didn’t do it. He’s a good boy, smart – he’s qualified in Criminal Psychology, top of his class.  

He came to me when he was 14, I was a single foster carer at the time. They gave me almost no documented history for him, just that he’d been found wandering through the woods by a couple of people out walking their dog, with no idea how he’d got there or where he’d been. There was no record of him anywhere, no name, birth parents – it was like he’d not existed until he was found. He came to stay with me after I agreed to provide long-term care for him, but not before he was subjected to all manner of medical examinations and psychological tests. He was a mystery; he had a knowledge far superior than that of any other teen his age, yet there was no record of him having ever enrolled in any educational facility. He was also very athletic, as far as the doctors could tell he was in perfect health. They noted that he had multiple signs of surgical scarring, but from their scans could find no internal evidence that any procedures had ever taken place. The scar that always concerned me was one that ran in a straight line from the base of his skull, beneath his hair, to the bottom of his neck. 

When he came to live with me, he settled in quickly. It was like he’d always been with me, like he was my biological son, we were that close. I was to provide daily reports of his behaviour and progress to the assigned case workers. He was a delight – polite, respectful, and so clever. He was just like any other teenage boy, apart from on one particular day every year. Friday 13th. It always fell on Friday 13th. From the moment he woke up he was like a different person; a zombie, shuffling around with a vacant stare. He’d respond if you spoke to him, but his answers would be vague and he’d seem disinterested, nothing like his usual, chatty, vibrant self. He’d go to sleep the night of the 13th and every time would wake up at some point after midnight, screaming, crying, and talking about the dream he’d had. It was the same dream each time. He’d tell me that he was in a type of school with lots of other children, and that they were being trained to fight, to kill; sometimes he would recall being as young as 6 in these dreams. The next morning, after eventually going back to sleep, he’d wake up and remember nothing of it. He’d also describe feeling like he’d lost an entire day, like he’d skipped right past Friday 13th and woken up the following morning. 

While this was always awful to witness, I never really held any substance to it. I wrote it in my reports, and his case workers would arrange visits to therapy for him. He seemed perfectly happy and, like I said, never remembered the dreams anyway. 

Before he turned 18, he asked if I would legally adopt him – I was overjoyed! By that point it was really just a gesture, but it still meant he was legally my son, and I was happier than I’d ever been. 

He’s 26 now. 

The case against him claims that he committed the murder of our local MP on Friday 13th August 2021. 

According to the report, my son was seen entering the MP’s house late in the afternoon after she’d returned from walking her dog. The police were called when a neighbour heard screams coming from the house. When they arrived, they found my son sitting in a chair; he was covered in blood and apparently in a catatonic state. The MP was face down on the floor in front of him in a pool of her own blood, with multiple stab wounds all over her body. 

He didn’t speak a word for the rest of that day. The report claims he was screaming in his cell during the early hours of the next morning. They questioned him about it the next day and he claimed to have no recollection of the last 24 hours. He seemed absolutely horrified by the accusations, said he would never dream of hurting anyone. 

A couple of weeks later he was attacked in his cell; got a nasty blow to the head. Since then he says he’s had all sorts of memories coming back to him from his childhood, they match up with the dreams he used to have as a teen. He keeps going on about living in an institution with a bunch of other children, that they were trained to fight, programmed to kill on command. He kept making reference to a tracking device in his head and pointing to the scar on the back of his neck. 

The current opinion held by the press is that he’s playing on old nightmares he had as a child, using his knowledge of criminal psychology to try and switch to a plea for diminished responsibility. 

But it doesn’t make any sense. My son was a huge supporter of this MP, he agreed with all of her policies – even volunteered for her campaign (she was planning to run for Prime Minister in 2024). So for him to be on trial for her murder defies all logic as far as I’m concerned. 

As I said, I’m not allowed to be talking about this, so I’ll say this to clarify if you don’t already know who I’m talking about. This MP, she drummed up a lot of support for her incredibly liberal views and her ambitious plans to shake up politics. She also gained a lot of enemies. Her opposition tore her down at every opportunity. My son was determined to support her over the next three years and see her elected as Prime Minister. Why would he have killed her? 

I don’t know if it’s crazy, but I’m starting to wonder if his dreams are based on events that really happened. There never was any explanation of where he’d spent the first 14 years of his life, how can anyone know for sure that he’s not recalling real memories? 

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Comments: 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 25/12/2021  15:12

@MaryB1973 I’m so sorry to hear what you continue to go through, it sounds like you and your son have a great bond, so the accusations against him must be terrible to hear. I had read about your story in the news and was in two minds about the whole thing. I agree that it makes little sense for someone to murder a person they hold in such high regard, though I know there have been cases of this happening in the past. That’s not to say I believe this to be the case where your son is concerned – not with the memories he’s been recollecting, backed up with his lack of any history before he was found, and the fact that you recall him becoming zombie-like every Friday 13th.  

‘MaryB1973’ on 25/12/2021  16:02

@twisted_superstition I’m so very grateful that you’ve not immediately dismissed me as delusional, that’s what my friends have done. I know my son, though. He’s not a killer. I’ve got the description of his dreams doing a constant loop in my head and I can’t help thinking, what if it’s all true? What if he was brainwashed as a child? That scar on the back of his head, it’s always bothered me. There’s no procedure that would leave one quite like it. They say that nothing was found on his scans… But maybe it’s all a cover up? God, I sound ridiculous. 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 25/12/2021  16:36

@MaryB1973 I’ve learned never to rule anything out now. I thought I was crazy at first, because logic couldn’t explain what I’d experienced. Never doubt your better judgment if you sense something to be wrong – I’m starting to believe that there’s gravity to my theory about superstition. I’ll be keeping up to date on the developments of your son’s trial. Merry Christmas. 

‘GBX2’ on 27/12/2021  18:32

@MaryB1973 @twisted_superstition my wife acts the exact same any time it’s Friday 13th, even has the dreams during the night too. Following morning she doesn’t remember a thing and thinks I’m making it up. I recorded her once, showed her the next morning. She said she must’ve been sleep-talking. She doesn’t like talking about her childhood, she reckons her birth parents had her addicted to drugs or something. She said when she was around 13, she kind of woke up and didn’t know where she was or where she’d been right up until that moment. She also has a scar like your son’s, a long line on the back of her head. 

‘MaryB1973’ on 27/12/2021  20:11

@GBX2 I think we should meet. Please email me: MBuckley1973xx@mailnet.com  

‘twisted_superstition’ on 27/12/2021  21:54

@MaryB1973 I would STRONGLY advise against anyone meeting in person. 

Username: JezD87 

Published: 08/01/2022  17:25

This all happened in November last year. I’d been scouring the internet looking for answers ever since, when this site popped up. 

I’m a fisherman from a small town not too far from Aberdeen, Scotland. My crew and I go out into the North Sea a lot, so we’re used to intense weather conditions. We operate as responsibly as possible; we catch everything by line and pole. While the boat is small, there’s a small living quarters so that we’re able to stay out if needed. There was one day that the forecast was looking really good, so we were keen to get going as early as possible. We boarded the boat and there was this black cat just sitting on the deck; not moving or anything, just sitting there staring out at the water. One of the guys in my crew picked it up and took it back to the dock, but it just followed him back and sat back down where it had been again. We tried scaring it off, but it just wouldn’t move. I remembered there was this old sailors’ superstition or myth that a black cat on board was good luck, but honestly, it just didn’t seem like a safe place for a cat to be. We ended up letting it stay put because we needed to cast off. 

The weather was great, and we were managing a great haul that day; the cat stayed on the deck, barely moving, still staring into the open waters. We were in great spirits, everything seemed to be going so well; the fish were biting, the weather was clear. We were doing so well, in fact, that we gave the cat one of the fish, it seemed to enjoy it. We joked that maybe the cat was a good omen after all. 

I was taking a break below deck and could feel the waves picking up, but I didn’t think too much of it – the North Sea is rough, even on a good day. It wasn’t until I heard some of the crew shouting above that I figured something must be wrong. I went up and saw that we were heading straight for a storm, the sky before us was darker than I’d ever seen. The waves were getting taller and taller. Like I said, I’m used to crazy weather, but this was insane. We were at the helm trying to navigate our way out of danger when I noticed the cat was still sitting out on the deck. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a ship in a storm, but the water comes way up and over the deck; it’s NOT a place you should be. But this cat, it was like it was stuck to the deck with cement, it didn’t look wet or anything. It was just staring out at the chaos around it. 

We were seriously struggling to gain any control over the vessel, then the next thing we knew there was this massive crash and the whole thing shook. We did everything in our power to keep steady, but it happened again – this time we knew there was no helping us. We were taking on water. Another crash and something hit me. I almost blacked out, my vision was swimming (no pun intended), I couldn’t focus. One minute I was aboard; I saw the cat still fused to the deck, the next minute I was in the freezing water. I lost consciousness after about 30 seconds, but not before I saw the most unbelievable sight. An enormous wave was towering towards me, it was honestly like an unending wall of water. A bolt of lightning illuminated the waters and within that wave I saw a shadow of gargantuan proportions, moving closer to the surface and in my direction. As I saw it begin to breach, another immense form erupted from the water right in front of me at great speed – just a black, shadowy blur. Then everything went dark and I felt the water envelope me. 

I woke up on a sandy beach, absolutely soaked, freezing cold, but alive. I didn’t know the exact time, but it looked to be dawn. I sat myself up and looked around – my entire crew was there too. It looked as though someone had dragged us from the sea and left us close to where the beach ended, and a grassy verge began. There was no way we should’ve survived. We were so far out to sea we should’ve drowned; our bodies should’ve been lost forever. Yet there we were, all of us, alive. I stood up to get a better view of my surroundings and saw the black cat sitting on the grass verge, watching over us. 

We called in a favour with some friends and they took the trip to come and collect us – turns out we’d washed ashore in NORWAY. None of us had any belongings, but some of the locals from a nearby village took care of us until our rescue arrived. The cat didn’t leave us the entire time, whenever we looked up there it was. We brought it back with us; asking around to see if anyone had lost a cat but finding no one. 

In time we got another boat and started fishing again, some of the crew gave it up, but not me. The cat comes with me any time I go out, and just sits on the deck, always watching the sea. 

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Comments: 

‘twisted_superstition’ on 09/01/2022  10:29

@JezD87 while your story is a frightening recount of what must have been a truly scarring experience for all involved, it’s also quite beautiful. I’d not heard of this particular myth before, only of the superstition around black cats bringing bad luck, so this was enlightening. What you’ve been through is immense and I’m so pleased you and your crew lived to tell the tale (no pun intended on my part, also!) I felt a deep fear in the pit of my stomach when you described what you saw before losing consciousness. The mysteries of the sea are perplexing. This seems to lend credibility to the sailors’ superstition you mentioned, I wonder if there were similar stories in times gone by? Thank you so much for sharing. 

‘JezD87’ on 09/01/2022  12:38 

@twisted_superstition I count myself lucky to be alive every single day. I’m pleased I could contribute to your cause. Have you any update on finding your sister? 

Username: twisted_superstition 

Published: 10/01/2022  22:07

She’s back! Anna’s back! I’m still in complete shock. I’ve got so many questions still unanswered, but her being alive is the most important thing. 

I’ll quickly fill you in on what’s happened today. 

@JezD87 after reading your story I felt filled with hope. There’s so much we don’t know; this I still believe, but hearing that it wasn’t all doom and gloom just filled me with so much joy. I’m still in search for answers to the sinister events that have transpired; both to Anna, and to those of you who’ve shared your experiences. But now… Now I feel like there’s a light at the end of it all. 

So, this morning, while I was getting ready to head into town, I glanced at my phone and did a double take when I saw the time: 11:11. For a minute it made me feel sick, but then I tried to refocus on my positive outlook. I got this overwhelming urge to try calling Anna, something I hadn’t done in months because her phone always made those weird sounds and I never reached her. This time though, the dialling tone was normal. I could feel my hands shaking so much while it just rang and rang, then when she answered my heart was immediately in my mouth. 

‘Hello?’ I heard her say, shakily. 

I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing it was to hear her voice. 

She told me how she’d been standing in the kitchen of her flat, drinking a coffee and waiting for the day to loop again, when suddenly she felt a weird shock run through her body. The next second, the mug had vanished, and her phone, which hadn’t worked since the first time she’d lived through that day, was vibrating in her pocket. She also described how the entire flat changed in a split second, the décor, the furnishings, everything. She looked at the clock, it was 04:13. She suddenly lowered her voice and asked me what day it was. I told her and she went silent. I could hear her breathing; she was looking around the flat. 

‘There are photos of people I don’t know, the same couple, all over the place,’ she said. 

Realising that the flat which was once hers had now been let to someone else, she quickly crept through the living area and quietly out of the front door. 

She didn’t know what to do, or what had happened. I told her how the police claimed she’d been spotted on various occasions over the last 9 months, all across the States. She was astounded by this, going over what she’d already explained in her many letters, adamant that it wasn’t her. I believed her, I mean, I believe her still. I told her I would contact the local Embassy to arrange her documentation and that I would purchase tickets for her to fly home as soon as she’d spoken with them. I told her to save my credit card details in a note on her phone, check into a hotel, and use the card to buy whatever she needed until I could get hold of the Embassy. I kept her on the phone while she found a hotel to book herself into using my card details, that way I knew where she’d be, then I hung up to look up the Embassy. 

My hands were shaking more than they ever had and I accidentally dropped my phone on the tiled floor of my kitchen. The screen smashed, I could barely see anything on it, but at least I could still use the landline. 

Anyway, I arranged for the people at the Embassy to contact her at her hotel and that’s where we’re at right now. 

I have absolutely no clue where she’s been, but once she’s home and safe I’ll talk to her and try to find out more. 

I know this seems like a happy ending, and of course, I’m over the moon to hear from her, but this isn’t the end of my investigation. I still want to hear from anyone who has anything they need to share. I still believe that there could be more to uncover. 

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‘twisted_superstiti0n’ on 00/00/00  00:00

Follow my new page! Click here. 

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Username: TanakaS1990 

Published: 16/02/2022  08:33 

In Japan, we have things called omamori – they’re a sort of amulet that’s supposed to bring good fortune. They originate from Shinto belief and are highly popular with tourists; they’re found in many gift shops. 

Kanai Anzen is a specific type of omamori, the name translates roughly to mean “please keep my family from harm”, it’s supposed to promote good health and aid those with illnesses. 

When I was 17, I would go for early morning hikes up in the mountains, it was beautiful. I loved how peaceful it was to go, by myself, and observe the world from up high. 

One day I was up there, I saw this pretty little stone amongst the rubble of the path ahead of me. It was shiny and pearlescent, its colour seemed to change in the early morning light. I picked it up and saw that it had an inscription, the same phrase that a Kanai Anzen would: please keep my family from harm. It also had a piece of string tied through a small hole in it, as though it were a necklace. It seemed to radiate light, rather than just reflect it; I was in awe. I put it on and continued with my hike.  

I wore it every single day, I felt like I was connected to it, never taking it off. 

A week or two went by. 

I was on another early morning hike, alone, when I tripped and fell. I tumbled a considerable distance and landed with force, breaking my right leg so badly that I could see bone. It was agony. I called out for help but there was no one around to hear me. I was seriously injured, bleeding a dangerous amount, and with severe cuts all over my body. The next moment the amulet began shining brightly. I was no longer in any pain, like I’d just received a hefty dose of morphine. I watched as the blood began to seep back into my wounds, my cuts sealing shut. The broken bone in my leg, which had been sticking out at such a grotesque angle, snapped back into its correct position and my skin began to knit itself back together. Once my wounds had vanished the amulet stopped shining and I no longer felt numb. It was as though I’d never fallen, apart from the fact I remembered it happening, there was no evidence. 

Now I’m not one to believe in superstition. I’ve seen these things before, the ones they sell in gift shops and at tourist attractions, they’re just trinkets, nothing more. 

I got home and just had to test whether I was dreaming or something. I found a pin and pricked my finger. No sooner than a small drop of blood appeared did the amulet shine brightly once again, the blood disappearing back into my skin, not a mark left on me. I was astounded at my discovery; I swore I’d never take off that necklace. 

The very next morning, I awoke to see the amulet pulsing with light – a slow, steady pulse. I hid it beneath my clothes and chose to ignore it. That night when I went to bed, I made sure to tuck the amulet into my top, it lit up the room so brightly with each flash.  

I don’t know what time it was, but I woke up to the sensation of a cool breeze. I opened my eyes and saw that my window was open, the curtains blowing gently in the breeze. I was sure I hadn’t left it that way and thought to go and close it, but I couldn’t move. My body was completely paralysed. What I saw that night will stay with me forever. 

Through the dark I saw a remarkably long-fingered hand reach through the window, clutching around the frame, before another hand did the same on the other side. I tried to scream out, but I was frozen in place. Next, a featureless head appeared in the window, I didn’t know if it was the darkness that hid its face, or whether it simply had no face. Its head was long, like its fingers, and oblong in shape – nothing like a human head. While I saw no evidence of a face, I felt it turn to look at me. It continued to climb through my window, its legs seemingly unending as it had a very tiny body in comparison to its limbs. When it stood up straight it was giant, 7, maybe 8 feet tall? It almost reached the ceiling. I felt my breathing become panicked as it slowly approached my bed, its steps seemed awkward, as if it were constantly trying to step over something large. It climbed onto my bed, straddling me, and leaned right down towards my face. Then it pulled back my bed covers and poked its long fingers inside the collar of my top, its skin felt cold against mine. 

It clasped its hand around the amulet, removing it from around my neck gently. In the pulsing light emitting from the amulet I got a closer look at the intruder. 

Its skin was slate grey and shiny, like the smooth skin of a snake only without the scales; where I’d not seen features in the dark, I now saw them. Huge dark ovals within its massive head, my guess is they were its eyes, there seemed to be a thin film of skin covering them. I saw no sign of any other features in the moments of light. With the amulet in its hand, it quickly and silently retreated to the window, climbed through, and disappeared from sight. Seconds later, my body was released from its paralysis; I darted to the window but there was no sign of the creature. 

I still wonder what that creature was, and where the amulet came from in the first place. 

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Comments: 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 20/02/2022  09:19 

@twisted_superstition I would really like to hear your thoughts on this, I’ve got some theories but would like to get another’s perspective first, before sharing. I hope all is well with you and your sister. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 21/02/2022  02:01

@TanakaS1990 sounds to me like a case of the Greys. Aliens, of course, you’ve probably heard of them. From what you described it sounds like a match for sure. They got tech that can mess with the nervous system, make it so you can’t move. Surprised it didn’t take you up with it – that thing you found must’ve been mighty important to them. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 21/02/2022  05:20 

@bjefferson42 honestly, my thought was something not of this planet, also. I’m not spiritual, I don’t believe in ghosts or demons, but I do believe strongly that we are not alone. Looking back now I wish I’d handed that amulet in to the authorities, they could’ve studied it, replicated it. Think of all the people it could’ve helped. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 21/02/2022  05:42 

@TanakaS1990 you really think the people in charge would have done anything with it? Even if they had, you reckon they’d share it with the little people? Think how much money is made from people getting hurt and getting sick, why offer a cure-all when they can keep us paying for treatments and preventatives? 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 21/02/2022  06:26

@bjefferson42 I hate that I agree with you. @twisted_superstition I’d love to know what you think? 

Username: KayleighKisses 

Published: 27/02/2022  12:35

I’m just on my break at work and thought I’d write this. My friend Debbie showed me the page after I told her what happened to me. 

I never really believed in ghosts, or like, aliens or nothing. I know that if you see a robin it’s supposed to be a dead relative or something? I believe in that. Oh, and that one about if you shiver it means someone’s walking over your grave. AND I don’t walk under ladders or step on three drains because it’s bad luck. But other than that I don’t believe in nothing. 

Anyway, I was having a bath on New Year’s Day this year because I was really hanging. I don’t think me and the girls got to bed until like, 5am? OMG it was so funny – Michelle, my bestie, spilled her drink all over Tracy’s boyfriend and then started trying to take his shirt off, she deffo fancies him cause he’s proper fit. Tracy got SO angry and threw HER drink at Michelle, so then Michelle grabbed Sonia’s drink and threw it at Tracy. So then Tracy goes to take Lisa’s drink but I got there first so she couldn’t throw another one. They were both standing there – absolutely soaked in Vodka, Lime & Soda – Sonia and Lisa have no drinks, I’ve got two. Then, Michelle and Tracy both just looked at each other and started laughing. It was hilarious. Seriously, I think my drink came out my nose. 

So yeah, I was having a bath and saw this MASSIVE spider crawl out from the side of the bathroom mirror. My boyfriend, Darren, was downstairs so I called out to him like, ‘DARREN!’ but I don’t think he could hear me because I had my music on. So I just freaked out and like, threw my shampoo bottle at the spider from the bath. DON’T. It was so bad. I completely missed and smashed the mirror, and the spider just flew away. Oh yeah, it turns out the spider was just a really big fly.  

Next minute, Darren only walks in the bloody door, don’t he? He takes one look at me, one look at the shampoo up the wall and the broken glass in the sink and just bursts out laughing. Honestly, I nearly peed in the bath I was laughing so much. 

Right, so the mirror broke and obviously that means 7 years bad luck, don’t it? Well, we didn’t think anything of it to start with. Like, I believe in it, but I don’t BELIEVE in it, you know what I mean? But then all these weird things started happening in the house. 

Like, one day I came home while Darren was at work, and I heard this like, thumping noise coming from our bedroom upstairs. I didn’t know if maybe Darren had come home and was doing some hammering or something, so I called out to him like, ‘DARREN!’ only he didn’t answer. The noise stopped though, and it sounded like someone was walking around up there, so I went to have a look. It was the weirdest thing, I go into the bedroom and there’s no one in there, but the bed was all messed up and the window was open. It was really freaky actually. I shut the window because the birds outside were going mental – it was doing my nut in. 

Darren comes home later, and I tell him about it and he just looks at me confused. He’s got no idea. He said maybe it was a robber or something, but if they didn’t steal anything there was no point calling the police, so we left it at that. 

Couple days later – I’ve had a long day at work and go to pour myself a Lambrini. Well first, there’s a good couple of glasses missing from the bottle – so I ask Darren if he’s had any, and he’s like, ‘No, maybe you drank it when you was on one the other night?’ 

I didn’t think I’d had that much to drink the other night, but maybe I’d just forgot? So I grab a glass and see that there’s a bit of red lipstick on it. Now I don’t wear lippie cause it washes me out, so I know it’s not mine. So I ask Darren and he’s like, ‘Maybe you didn’t wash it properly after the girls were round the other night?’ 

So I just wiped it off thinking nothing of it.  

But then the next week, I’m getting ready for bed and I see this glittery hairband just underneath my side of the bed. I didn’t think it was mine, so I asked Darren if he knows how it got there and he’s like, ‘Babe, calm down, that’s yours.’ 

I must have forgotten I’d bought it. To be honest I’ve got so many I lose track sometimes.  

Most recent thing is, I’m at home and I call Darren to see if he’ll make it home for dinner, in the background I can hear a woman’s voice. Darren says, ‘Nah babe, I’m at the office on my own.’ But I heard the voice again and it sounded like my friend Debbie, who also wears sparkly hairbands and red lipstick. So, while I’m on to Darren I text Debbie and ask where she is; she says she’s still at the salon, so I let Darren go and call the salon. Debbie answers and she’s like, ‘Babe, what’s wrong?’ 

So I’m telling her about all these things that happened and she says I might have a Poltergeist after breaking the mirror. She says they live in your house and like to cause mischief. She says she knows this friend who knows this friend who’s a Medium, and that she could get her to come round and check if there’s a spirit or Poltergeist in our house. 

So, I call the Medium, tell her everything, and she books an appointment to come round. The minute she walks into my house she goes all rigid and looks scared. She goes, ‘There’s too much evil in this house, I can’t stay here.’ Then tells me I shouldn’t stay either and runs off. Now, I don’t know at this point whether she’s having me on, or whether she’s legit. 

I’ll tell you what though, ever since I broke that mirror our little Archie – that’s our Pug – keeps barking at nothing. Or he’ll just start barking at Darren for no reason before he goes to work. So maybe the Medium wasn’t mental, dogs can see ghosts and stuff, can’t they? 

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Comments: 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 28/02/2022  10:34

@KayleighKisses I really hate to say it, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your boyfriend might be cheating on you and using the broken mirror as a way to throw you off. 

‘KayleighKisses’ on 28/02/2022  12:32

@TanakaS1990 he’s def not cheating on me. I asked him about all those things, and he told me that I was wrong. Like the lipstick on the glass was because I didn’t wash it properly. So thanks, but no thanks, babes. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 29/02/2022  09:48

@KayleighKisses I didn’t mean to offend you, it just seems like he’s Gaslighting you. Making you doubt yourself over things that seem pretty obvious. I’m sorry, I won’t say anything further. 

‘KayleighKisses’ on 13/03/2022  21:44

@TanakaS1990 OMG. I’m SO sorry. I should have believed you. But also, I was right as well. I confronted Darren about cheating with Debbie, he said he didn’t do nothing. Then I confront Debbie about it and she’s like, ‘Yeah, fine, I’ve been sleeping with him for weeks.’ I wanted to rip her cheap extensions out, but I asked her more questions. So, when I came home and heard the thumping upstairs, that was them. When I called out, they quickly threw all their clothes out the window and then climbed out as well. The window is over the porch, so they could get down easy and then climb down onto the wheelie bins. The lipstick was hers. The hairband was hers. But she said she wasn’t with him when I called her at the salon that one time.  

So then I go to Darren at his office and confront HIM about it, but he denies the whole thing. I told him I’d already spoken to Debbie and she confessed it all, but he was like, ‘Babe, I don’t know what you’re on about.’ I ask who else he’s been sleeping with because I heard that woman on the phone that wasn’t Debbie. He says there was no one there. I told him I don’t believe him, so he’s like, ‘Right, my work phone records everything so I’ll prove it’. So he finds this recording and plays it back – there’s no woman’s voice on it at all, which makes no sense because I know what I heard. 

Anyway, I get home and Debbie is standing in the driveway. She says she’s not leaving without Darren because she’s in love with him. I went mental and pushed her so hard she fell in the bushes. Next thing, Darren pulls up in the drive and she’s throwing herself at him and telling him to leave me. Darren’s looking at her like she’s crazy. He keeps saying he’s got no idea what she’s on about. She gets all upset and leaves so we go inside. Archie comes over to us all excited and starts playing with Darren’s shoes while he’s trying to take them off, then all of a sudden, he starts barking at him instead. Darren kicks him to try and stop him, so I hit Darren on the arm. THEN, Darren turns to me and goes, ‘Debbie would never treat me like you do.’  

Well, that was it. I was LIVID. I told Darren to leave. He told me that he’d rather be alone than put up with me. I was so upset; Darren had NEVER been like this before this year. 

The next day I was reaching into the cupboard above the kitchen counter to get a wine glass and the whole thing falls off the wall. I was lucky to get out the way. ALL the glasses smashed, my feet were bleeding, it was SO bad. 

Later that day, I got a call from that Medium telling me she’s sorry she ran away but she just couldn’t deal with being in the house. I told her everything that had happened since I saw her, and she goes all quiet. I had to write down the next bit she said so I got it right… She said: 

‘Mirrors can trap mischievous or evil spirits. When you break a mirror, you release any spirit that was trapped inside – never to be contained again. When people talk about 7 years bad luck, it’s not luck, it’s a malevolent spirit bonding themselves to whoever set them free. It can even possess people, but rarely the person it bonds with – preferring to mess with them instead. Animals can sense them and it’s not uncommon for dogs to bark at people they sense to be housing an evil spirit. The spirit can only exist for 7 years in the world before it passes on to the other side, hence the 7 years bad luck myth. Spirits may survive longer through possession, though there are no known cases of this on record.’ 

These were her words, not mine, obv. I don’t know what to do now. Apparently I’ve got to put up with 7 years of this. Archie keeps barking at the space behind me, it’s driving me crazy and it’s scaring the hell out of me. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 14/03/2022  08:14

@KayleighKisses I’m sorry to hear all you’ve gone through. Forge strong bonds with your family and friends and reach out if you need words of support from someone who’s experienced things that others wouldn’t believe. 

‘KayleighKisses’ on 14/03/2022  09:01 

@TanakaS1990 Kayleigh is fine. 

Username: jack_carter98 

Published: 20/03/2022  00:03 

People on here seem to be pretty certain of what they’ve seen. Personally, I don’t know if I believe in this stuff, but I’ve got a story about a superstition; I don’t know if it qualifies. 

I’ve literally just moved from Yorkshire down to Croydon for work today. The place I’ve got is a small, terraced house not far from the centre of town. Until now I’d been living with my parents in our family home, it’s been in the family for generations, going back hundreds of years. My grandma used to tell me the story of how, back in the 16th Century, a distant relative had accused a neighbour of being a witch.  

The story goes that our relative’s husband had gotten sick and died, and our relative swore she’d seen their neighbour staring intently at him on a regular basis. So she accused the neighbour, and it resulted in the unsuspecting woman being tied up and chucked in a river to test if she was a witch. Dumb method because everyone accused just ends up drowning and apparently that’s what clears their name. Bet they were thrilled. 

So they tie the “witch” up, chuck her in the river, and she disappears under the surface. Apparently, that meant she wasn’t guilty and would go to heaven. Yay for her. Later that night, while our relative – the accuser – was asleep, she was supposedly visited by the scorned witches of the deceased’s coven. When she awoke, she found her youngest daughter had died in her sleep with no sign of any harm. She also noticed a large amount of soot was present at the hearth of the fireplace. When the locals heard, they all seemed reluctant to associate with her, claiming she was now cursed. One of the villagers took pity on her and urged that she carve the cross of Saint Andrew into one of the posts surrounding the fireplace, this would prevent any witch or malevolent being from entering. And that’s what they would call a Witch Post. 

Well I guess it worked because I’ve never seen a witch or spirit in our house. 

If I’m honest, I don’t think that woman was a witch. I reckon she was staring at the husband because they’d been having an affair, he probably got syphilis or something. The daughter could’ve been smothered by an angry family member of the “witch”. And the soot… Probably some kind of animal falling into the chimney? 

So yeah, our house has this cross symbol etched into the side of the fireplace and that’s why we’re safe. Great story, right? 

Before I moved, my mum made me promise to carve the same symbol into the side of the fireplace in my new house. I’m not going to (why would I damage my new house the day I move in?), but yeah, I’ve told her I’ve done it. 

Sorry, I guess everyone else was actually telling stories about stuff that had happened to them, my bad. 

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Comments: 

‘jack_carter98’ on 20/03/2022  03:02

There’s someone in my house. I’d just managed to get to sleep when I heard movement downstairs. I’ve checked the feed on the security cameras I set up this morning, but no one has come through the front or back door. I’ve not heard a window smash either. There’s no other way to get in… 

‘jack_carter98’ on 20/03/2022  03:09

They’re coming up the stairs; the footsteps are LOUD, like they’re wearing clogs or something heavy on their feet. I’ve called the police on the landline and just left the line open; I don’t want to make any unnecessary noise. I’ve turned the brightness right down on my phone and hidden under the bed. God, I feel like a horror movie cliché, but where else do I go? It might seem weird that I’m still on here, but I feel like I NEED this documented.  

They’re outside the door; I can hear them breathing. They sound like they’ve got severe asthma or something from the way they’re exhaling; they keep kind of… Spluttering? The handle’s turning. 

Holy ****! What IS this thing? 

It’s got hooves instead of feet and dark, furry legs – like an animal standing on its hind legs. **** this, I’m going to run for it. 

‘jack_carter98’ on 20/03/2022  03:16

There’s two more of them! I made it out of my bedroom door and went straight for the stairs, but they were already on their way up, so I doubled back and now I’m just hiding behind a load of cardboard boxes in my spare room that I’ve yet to unpack. This is the part where I’d be yelling at the person in the horror film to do something, but I can’t think of what I’m supposed to do now. 

They’re in the room, I can see them between my pathetic box fort, all three of them. They’re saying something in unison, it’s nothing like any language I know. 

‘jack_carter98’ on 20/03/2022  03:39

I don’t know what I’ve just witnessed. Those things weren’t human. 

They had human-shaped bodies, but that was one of the ONLY things about them that seemed human. Their hooves and furry, wolf-like, legs progressed into a sort of… Reptilian looking torso? The skin looked like that of a lizard, or like a snake? Kind of scaly and shiny. The arms were long and thin with massive claws, like the talons of an eagle. Their faces though… They were human, but as though they were long dead. It was a mess of decay, strands of hair, and empty sockets where eyes should have been. 

I thought I was dead. The boxes I was behind seemed to just fly out of the way, leaving me exposed. But then, those creatures froze on the spot, their empty sockets seemed to be looking just to my right, where my large, oval-shaped mirror was leaning against the wall. They let out this awful screeching sound, a bit like when a train hits its brakes, and began to disintegrate. The dust they crumbled into was sucked into the mirror, as if the mirror were a vacuum, and that was it; they were gone. 

‘jack_carter98’ on 20/03/2022  04:51 

The police have just left. They turned up, took a statement, and looked around the place, but I think they reckon I’m crazy – or just making it up. 

I still don’t know what’s happened tonight. I’m just looking at the mirror because I could’ve sworn that I just saw the reflection of someone standing behind me, but there’s definitely no one here now. 

‘jack_carter98’ on 20/03/2022  05:12

I’m exhausted but I can’t go to bed. I can’t stop looking at this mirror. I’m certain I keep seeing something reflected in it. It’s like it’s watching me, but there’s nothing in the room. 

‘jack_carter98’ on 20/03/2022  05:30 

They’re in the mirror. Those things are in my mirror. 

As soon as anywhere is open I’m getting rid of it. I’ll take it to the dump or sell it on Facebook.  

And I’m going to carve a Witch Post into the side of the fireplace. 

‘jack_carter98’ on 21/03/2022  08:17

Last night was fine. Everything’s fine. I took the mirror to a charity shop. It’s gone, the house is protected, I’m putting it all behind me. 

@twisted_superstition thank you for setting up this page. It’s reassuring, if maybe a little disturbing, to know that other people have witnessed strange or supernatural things. It makes me feel a little less like I’m going loopy. Now your sister is back, do you have any idea what happened to her? 

Username: ex-NASA 

Published: 29/04/2022  13:44

There’s so much more being kept under wraps than any of you will ever know. You haven’t even begun to scratch the surface with the stories you’ve been telling. The things you’ve seen, the way you interpret them, it’s all going to change when I’m done. When the truth is out. 

I used to be an astronaut with NASA, years ago now. I was part of the original mission to the moon. People who say the moon landing was fake, they’re not entirely wrong. We did go to the moon, but it wasn’t the version of events you saw on TV. Those guys were actors, very well-trained ones – I’ll give them that – but actors all the same. Now I don’t claim to be a skilled writer, but I will aim to provide a thorough recount of what took place and will do what I can to recall every detail. 

Before the televised version of events there were several test missions, mine among them. We weren’t supposed to land on the Moon, we were only to orbit and observe the far-side before returning to Earth. None of us were prepared for what we saw when we passed the observable hemisphere. 

The face of the moon faded to a dark, smooth metallic surface. It was as though the white, cratered side we all knew had been painted on. There were hundreds of rows of what looked like illuminated windows, and in the very centre was a pillar of bluish light that shined straight up from the surface. Our spacecraft stayed its course, and as we closed in on the beam that shone, so brightly, out into space, we lost control. Suddenly we were being pulled towards the surface of the Moon, trapped within this cylinder of blue. As we approached, we began to lose speed. The surface loomed closer, and we saw that we were heading toward an opening – one that was at least 20 times as wide as an aircraft hangar.  

The blue light seemed to carry us inside, placing our craft gently onto the glossy floor beneath. I don’t think any of us had expected what we saw outside. It was an enormous space port, all number of crafts of varying design were docked amongst multiple bays. Other than these, it seemed fairly devoid of life, as though it were a parking lot for spaceships. I led the crew in donning our gear, typically used for conducting space walks, so that we could venture out. Upon exiting, the gravity seemed similar to that on Earth, perhaps ever so slightly weaker. We saw 3 people hurrying in our direction, at least, we thought they were people. 

When they reached us, we saw they were standing at least 7 feet tall and their skin was a silvery blue. Other than this, they seemed to be human in their overall appearance; they wore clothes similar to those we would, and when they spoke it was in English. They greeted us and informed us the air was safe enough that we could remove our helmets, which we did, tentatively. None of us seemed able to speak; we were all in shock. These beings seemed to understand, and we were treated with respect while they escorted us through a corridor towards a row of elevators; a small screen above them simply read: PARKING. 

‘That’s English,’ I said, finally managing to speak. 

‘The signage displays in whatever language your brain best comprehends,’ one of the beings replied, giving me a kind, somewhat comforting, smile. 

The elevators were bright; it seemed that every surface was a screen, each one flashing up advertisements for products or companies I’d never heard of before. When the doors closed a holographic face, resembling the beings we’d met, appeared above us and spoke. 

‘Please confirm desired destination.’ 

‘Head Office,’ replied the being closest to me. 

Instantly, the doors opened and all of the crew, myself included, let out a gasp. Considering we’d only just entered the elevator, we emerged in a large atrium with highly polished white floor and a huge waterfall at its centre that seemed to plummet from the ceiling into a round pool. Everything was so clean and white that it seemed almost clinical. There were a thousand questions flying around in my head, I’m sure the rest of the crew were the same, but we were all rendered speechless as we took in our surroundings. 

The beings took us to a room that resembled an airport lounge, a sort of waiting room, and invited us to take a seat, telling us someone would be with us shortly. The chairs were also white, and each one had a cup holder in its armrest. I remember thinking how much I could use a beer, all things considered; no sooner had I thought it, a cup filled with golden liquid had popped up into the holder. I lifted it, hesitantly, and gave it a sniff. It was beer. My crew seemed to have discovered this too, as soon enough we were all drinking different beverages and feeling the tiniest bit more relaxed.  

After an unknown amount of time had passed, at least long enough for me to finish my drink, a door opened and a single being came out. It appeared to be male: it was tall, muscular and dressed in what looked to be a business suit. It asked which of us was the ship’s Captain – which happened to be me – and beckoned for me to follow, asking my crew to remain seated. I followed it through a door and into what I guessed to be its office; there was a desk with odd holographic displays hovering above it, and a chair on either side; I took the one opposite the being. There was a small plaque on the desktop that read: KAHL – PROJECT LEAD. 

A cup appeared from the arm of this chair, too, only I hadn’t been thinking of anything this time. It was steaming and filled with an opaque, lilac fluid. I lifted it and its smell filled my nostrils; it was sweet with a hint of something like cinnamon, I’d never smelled anything like it. 

‘It’s good, you’ll like it,’ said the being. 

I took a sip and felt an instant wave of calm wash over me; it was syrupy, lightly spiced and creamy. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted. 

‘My name is Kahl, and I’m the Project Lead here,’ it began. ‘I’m sure you have many questions, and I’m happy to answer them.’ 

Its voice sounded male, too, though I didn’t know that to be correct. 

‘What are you?’ I said, uncomfortably. 

‘If you mean what species, then we are Ixians; we originate from a planet called Ix,’ it said, staring into my eyes. ‘If you were referring to my gender, we are but one.’ 

My facial expression must’ve given me away because it continued: 

‘We live for an indefinite period of time. When we are content with all that life has given us, we gestate a single offspring, and then we die.’ 

I lost my words again. I took another sip of my drink, regaining a sense of calm, and then managed to speak. 

‘What have you done to the Moon?’ 

Kahl continued to stare deeply into my eyes, as if reading the questions that whizzed around my head. 

‘The Moon is as it always has been,’ it began. ‘It is our base of operation, our home, and it is also the second most popular attraction in the known universe.’ 

I hastily took another sip at these words. 

‘What do you mean by Attraction?’ I asked, my hands trembling. 

‘For tourists.’ It said, matter-of-factly. 

Another sip. 

‘The Moon acts as a hub for many; a quick pitstop to do some shopping or have a meal, before heading on to the main attraction: Earth.’ 

I swallowed the remainder of my drink in one large mouthful; Kahl carried on: 

‘We came to this planetary system in order to conduct an experiment, our most ambitious in fact. When we arrived almost 4 billion years ago, the system already consisted of the 8 planets that you recognise today. What interested us was the space available for a 9th planet inside the habitable zone of your Sun’s orbit; we built the Earth and kept our observation facility in orbit, where it acted as a Moon to provide tidal patterns. Then, we introduced microscopic bacteria and our experiment began.’ 

Another cup of lilac liquid appeared in my cup holder; I quickly began drinking as Kahl continued: 

‘We were pleasantly surprised when human life eventually developed. Word of our experiment began to attract attention from other species throughout the universe and soon we were receiving requests for visitation. We are continually working to improve the experiences we can offer to our guests and have implemented many tactics in order to do so. For example: around 2000 years ago we sent one of our top scientists, Caprielle, to implant human embryonic cells infused with traces of our own DNA, into a young woman. The results were simply astounding…’ 

I regret that at this point my brain was struggling to process what I was being told; I went into a slight daze. 

‘… around this time, tales of our existence were misconstrued, giving birth to the term “Man in the Moon”. People began to relate this to the surface they were observing, and looked to seek features on…’ 

I only caught this last snippet of his speech because a thought suddenly popped into my head, bringing me out of my stupor. 

‘So we’re all being held captive, like animals in a zoo?’ I blurted out. 

‘Have you ever felt imprisoned or trapped?’ Kahl replied. 

I remained silent. 

‘You are free to leave, you simply lack the technology required to do so right now,’ it said. ‘When that time comes, you will be welcomed into the Universal Federation with open arms, of that I can assure you.’ 

My mind was racing; I couldn’t pick a question from the chaos. 

‘You have a choice,’ Kahl said. ‘You can leave here knowing what you know, and take this straight to your highest in command, ensuring our existence is withheld from public distribution. Or we can remove this knowledge and you can resume your life as it was before. Whatever your choice, your crew will remember nothing of this.’ 

I think the rest is clear. I retained that knowledge. How could I choose to forget? On our return I went straight to the highest in command, told them everything, and was immediately relieved of my position; told I was never to speak of this again. 

I kept the secret, because I figured that the human race was better off unaware, but over time I’ve seen so many reports of abductions and read so many stories (including the ones here) that I feel the Ixians have lost control over some of their guests.  

I don’t know what there is to be done now, our governments seem to think deception is in our best interest, but I believe we cannot protect ourselves unless we know the truth. 

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Comments: 

‘bjefferson42’ on 30/04/2022  04:01

@ex-NASA I KNEW IT! I knew the Government was keeping things from us. Ever since I was taken, and they put this chip in my head, I’ve had access to all this information. But I never knew it was aliens what made the Earth; I got no record of Ixians, they must’ve blocked all mention of themselves from being recorded. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 30/04/2022  09:29

@ex-NASA I really don’t want to believe this. Are you sure you’re not an aspiring writer, just sharing your story for a reaction? I have to be cynical despite my own experiences, because this… This is too much. 

‘AJ_UK259’ on 30/04/2022  11:12

@ex-NASA NO. This isn’t true. You can’t just say things like this; you can’t insult people’s beliefs in such a way. There’s more to our world than just “Aliens made it all up”, I see proof of it every day. Science can’t explain what I see. There are forces we will never understand, that we should never understand, so don’t come on here spouting your stories and tell people that everything they’ve ever believed in is a lie.  

‘JezD87’ on 30/04/2022  16:18

@ex-NASA there was a time I would have dismissed this as a tall tale, but I don’t doubt the credibility of your experience, not after what I’ve been through, or after everything I’ve read here. 

‘ex-NASA’ on 30/04/2022  16:47

@TanakaS1990 I’m not a writer, I just wanted to share as much detail as possible. 

@AJ_UK259 I’m sorry if my story caused upset or conflicted with any beliefs you may have. I don’t doubt what you’ve experienced, but there may be scientific explanations we simply don’t comprehend. The Ixians have technology more advanced than you would believe, it stands to reason that some may write experiences of it off as spiritual or religious. Offence was never my intent, but I will not suppress the truth. 

Username: bjefferson42 

Published: 01/05/2022  05:57 

Now that we’re getting the truth out, I figure I should share another story I got. 

I don’t know if you’ve heard of the Blarney Stone, I didn’t before they chipped me. Let me fill you in: 

The Blarney Stone is a block of stone that’s part of a castle in Ireland. They say kissing it gives you something they call “the gift of the gab”, meaning you get good with words and at treating people nice. 

They reckon some builder asked a goddess for luck with a lawsuit and she told him to kiss the first stone he could find, something like that. The stone he kissed gave him the skills to win his lawsuit and then it was set into the top of this castle. Nowadays people line up at the castle, waiting in line to kiss the stone; if they knew the truth they’d change their minds real quick, I reckon. 

See, there’s some truth to the story, but it ain’t nothing to do with no goddess. Back in old times, people would come across aliens when they was on Earth, but they didn’t know science, so it all seemed mystical, right? They’d claim they spoke with gods or got cursed by witches. Nah – they were all aliens, for sure. 

What I’m gonna tell you I know to be true; I got this chip in my head what acts like a big old history book for aliens, tells me everything they did, and everything about them too. Keeps me up to date on what they’re up to. Anyways, I already mentioned this in my last post. 

So this Blarney Stone story, almost true. The guy what was building it did ask what he thought was a goddess for help, only it weren’t a goddess, it was an alien species what called themselves the Fualians. They look like us, only much taller and their skin and hair is gold. They like wearing white robes too; you probably seen them in lots of ancient pictures what’re meant to be gods.  

The Fualians can be mighty mischievous; they like to play tricks on us humans and this time was no different. The builder didn’t know, but this Fualian had urinated all over the stone it was telling him to kiss. See, it had been exploring the area over night and had fallen asleep under a nearby tree, when it woke up it had to go, and there was this pile of stone nearby that it could stand behind to do its business. Now when this man kissed the rock, it really did give him this “gift of the gab”, because Fualian urine contains enzymes that react when ingested by humans, causing a boost in adrenaline and releasing endorphins too. It only takes a trace amount to cause a reaction, and it can last on surfaces for hundreds of years, especially when the rocks is porous enough.  

There you have it. That’s the truth behind the Blarney Stone. If you visit, I reckon you’ll still get a little rush when you kiss it, but just remember it’s alien piss what you’re kissing, ain’t no changing that. 

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Comments: 

‘AJ_UK259’ on 01/05/2022  09:34

@bjefferson42 you people are absolutely bonkers. You’re obsessed with aliens. Not everything that happens in this world is because of some messed up creatures from space. There are people here who have experienced real evidence of the supernatural, of spirits, of REAL trauma; then you come on here and belittle that by going on about aliens all the time. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 01/05/2022  09:47

@AJ_UK259 I ain’t gonna apologise for telling the truth. You may have your belief, but I know what I know. I got no reason to lie, why would I waste my time? I mean no disrespect to people who been through stuff – just trying to get the truth out is all. 

‘ex-NASA’ on 01/05/2022  09:51

@AJ_UK259 you can deny the truth as much as you like, no one is forcing you to keep reading, but the longer you deny it, the harder it’ll be to cope when it all comes to light. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 01/05/2022  10:03

@bjefferson42 your stories often seem farfetched in their concept, but who am I to say this when my story could be perceived to be equally as so. For now, I remain both a believer and a skeptic. I hope that one day I will understand. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 02/05/2022  02:23

@twisted_superstition ain’t you gonna weigh in and tell me that my story is… What was it, erratic? 

Username: Trish_Blake01 

Published: 18/05/2022  10:56

This all started back when I turned 18. 

My mates and I had planned to go out in Sydney and get legless, like, full-on blotto. We hit up a couple of clubs, before everything got a bit blurry and then I don’t really know what happened. 

Anyway so, like, I woke up in this bush in the middle of a park and there were all these kids and their parents like, staring at me as they walked past, I was mortified. I kind of straightened myself up as best I could and tried to walk home with some dignity: heels in my hand, mud on my dress, looking a total loser. My head was really pounding, and my ears were so hot I was worried I was getting sick. I walked past this fugly woman and her boyfriend when I heard her call me a slut, like, ‘Ew, what a slut’. 

Honestly, I got so mad. I turned to her and was like: ‘Listen bitch, don’t come at me because you’re feeling crappy about your tragic life.’ 

She looked SO shocked, her boyfriend did too. As if I would’ve just ignored her sly little comment. Then her fella just starts at me, saying that his girlfriend didn’t say anything and that I was a mess. I was going to argue back, but I wanted to get home so my parents wouldn’t worry. 

When I got in, my mum just went ballistic. She gave me so much aggro about not texting her, but like, it wasn’t my fault my phone died. Also, I must’ve dropped it because the screen was all smashed. I was just heading to my room because my headache was getting so bad and my ears were on FIRE, when I heard my mum say how I looked like a ‘total heffa’. 

I was like, WTF? We locked eyes and I just let her have it, like, verbally annihilated her, and she just stood there all confused. She said she didn’t say anything; told me I was still drunk and said to go to bed, which I did, but not because she told me to. I woke up later in the evening because I could hear my parents talking, they must’ve been right outside my bedroom because they were really loud. It was a couple of minutes before I realised that what they were saying didn’t form a conversation. As in, they were both talking, but like, about completely different things and sometimes over the top of each other. 

My mum was saying something about how ugly some woman’s clothes were; my dad was saying something totally gross about all the sexual things he’d like to do to some other woman. It was disgusting, totally scarring stuff. I shouted out to them to be quiet, but they just kept talking. My ears were so hot it was ridiculous, so I got up and went to find some pills. When I left my room my parents weren’t there, but I could still hear them as loud as anything. I went downstairs and saw my parents sat in the living room watching TV; I was about to tell them to be quiet when I realised that neither of them were actually moving their mouths, they were just watching TV silently.  

But I could HEAR them. My mum was seriously tearing into, what turned out to be, the TV presenter’s outfit, and my dad… Eurgh… He was obviously looking at her and thinking about all the gross things he’d like to do. I stood staring at them, because I just couldn’t process what was happening. My mum turned to me when she realised I was standing there, and asked if I was feeling better. Well, she kind of did. I heard her say that, but also heard her say something else at the exact same time, so it was a bit like: 

‘Are you feeling – Christ she looks – any better? – a mess.’ 

If that was awkward to read, imagine how hard it was to understand when I heard it. I sort of just nodded at her and she rolled her eyes and carried on watching TV, but I heard her say (or not say), ‘she reeks’. 

My dad turned to me and told me there was a plate of food in the kitchen, except I heard: 

‘Your dinner’s – What a total – on the kitchen – disaster she is. – side.’ 

I walked out of the room and felt my eyes fill with tears; tears of confusion, tiredness, and upset at what I sort of heard my parents say. 

I could still hear them having conversations with themselves about the most random topics. I took myself to bed after inhaling my food and some painkillers; my ears were throbbing. 

The next morning I woke up because it sounded like I was standing in the middle of a crowded room. I could hear SO many people talking and couldn’t pick anything out amongst all the noise. I tried making my way downstairs to get more pills; the pain in my head was intense and the burning in my ears was excruciating. I was two steps down when the pain became so unbearable that I passed out. When I woke up I was lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs with my Mum standing over me. The pain in my head, the voices, the burning in my ears – all gone. Everywhere else hurt, but I guess that’s what happens when you fall down the stairs. 

When my mum spoke, I heard her properly – just the one voice that came from her mouth. 

For a few days after that everything seemed to return to normal, I put it all down to a really bad hangover. That was until I went out for drinks with the girls. We were sat in a bar sipping on Mojitos when I saw this totally fit guy looking at me. Our eyes met and I felt myself blush; my ears turned warm, like, noticeably warm. Then I heard a deep, sexy voice say: 

‘I wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that.’ 

I jumped in my seat, looking around for who had said it, but there was no one there. The girls laughed at me and told me to stop messing around and go talk to this guy. So I went over to him, and before I reached him my ears warmed and I heard the voice again. This time it made a comment about my boobs and I was shocked, what was going on? So, I reach him and introduce myself and then he holds out his hand and says: 

‘Nice to meet you, I’m Jared.’ 

It was the same voice that I’d heard just before! My ears were still warm, but it didn’t hurt like before I fell down the stairs. I heard his voice again, but in my head this time. 

‘We should get a drink,’ the voice said. 

Jared went to open his mouth, but I spoke first. 

‘Shall we get a drink?’ I asked him. 

‘I was just thinking that!’ He replied. 

I didn’t even need to ask him what he was drinking, the voice told me before he did, and the voice was correct. 

I’ve learned since then that I can control this… I don’t know what to call it, ability? My ears get warm and I know that someone nearby is thinking about me, then I can focus in on them, like a 6th sense or something. The more I concentrate on someone the more I can learn about them, even if they’re not thinking about it. 

I know it sounds crazy, but I swear I’m not just hearing voices. I’ve tested it over the last few years – like, I’ve focused on my dad and got his online banking passwords and they worked. I don’t know how I ended up with this ability, but that’s my story anyway. 

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Comments: 

‘Trish_Blake01’ on 18/05/2022  11:01

@bjefferson42 @ex-NASA before either of you tell me it was aliens, don’t bother. Because I’ve never been abducted, I’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary, and I remember like, pretty much all of my childhood. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 19/05/2022  00:34

@Trish_Blake01 bet you ain’t got any memory of what happened the night you went out and woke up in the bush. Same night before it all started, huh? 

‘Trish_Blake01’ on 19/05/2022  10:46

@bjefferson42 stop it. I got drunk and blacked out – it’s not unheard of. It’s just a coincidence. Why would an alien want to make me into a mind-reader anyway? 

‘bjefferson42’ on 19/05/2022  23:57

@Trish_Blake01 don’t be so quick to dismiss what you don’t know. Ain’t you even read these stories? Them aliens on the Moon, this is all their experiment – you’re probably just one of their guinea pigs. 

‘Trish_Blake01’ on 20/05/2022  10:32

@bjefferson42 I don’t know if you’re deluded or what, but you’re really committed to your alien theory. 

@twisted_superstition I’d really like to know your opinion. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 21/05/2022  03:14

@Trish_Blake01 I don’t know if you noticed, but @twisted_superstition ain’t been back here in some months. Either she don’t care now her sister’s back, or… Well, I don’t much care to think about the ‘or’ part. 

Username: NotDannyGellar 

Published: 03/06/2022  10:12

Everything is wrong. The whole world is wrong. I don’t know if this is some kind of really detailed dream, or if I’m dead and this is what comes next? 

Almost a week ago I was at home, my home, watching TV after I’d just taken my evening nutri-dose. I was flicking through channels when I figured I must’ve hit the button for the TV camera because I was suddenly looking at myself sat in my bedroom on the TV screen. Only, everything looked different – even I looked different.  

My bedroom, the one I was sitting in, was perfectly clean – crisp and white – like every other room in the house, and like every other house in the neighbourhood. My clothes were my usual light grey linen tunic and matching linen trousers, the same as everyone else, like normal. But the version of me and my bedroom on the screen was… Disgusting. It was dark, messy and looked dirty; the bed was unmade and there were filthy discs on the floor with all matter of odd looking, lumpy, wet substances on them. Then there was “me”: my hair was long and dishevelled, my clothes were different colours with odd pictures on them, and there was something really odd going on with “my” eyes, they were completely the wrong shape. 

Initially I assumed this must’ve been some trippy filter I’d accidentally applied or something, so I tried to switch the TV back to the regular channels but the remote wasn’t responding. I moved closer to the TV in order to switch it off manually, putting my hand on the screen for balance as I reached around the screen for the button at the back. As I did this, I was overcome with the strangest sensation, it was as if someone had tied a rope around my waist and swung me around in a circle. With a blinding flash I suddenly found that the picture on the TV had corrected itself, and what I was looking at on the screen appeared to resemble me and my bedroom again. My vision slightly fuzzy from the flash of light, I continued to reach around and turn off the TV. 

When I looked back around, I felt my stomach lurch. I was in the strange version of my bedroom that I’d seen on my screen just moments ago. I can’t begin to describe the panic I felt in that moment. The smell was musty and damp, there were piles of clothes on the floor, the odd china discs with grim looking stuff on them (they smelled weird as well, on one of them there were these white pellet looking things and a thick orange liquid with large chunks in it). It was when I looked in the mirror that it all got too much. The messy hair, the clothes, and those eyes… I couldn’t cope, my senses were overwhelmed by my surroundings. I felt my mouth fill with saliva, my whole body became cold and sweaty, my stomach seemed to clench and before I knew it there was all manner of stuff flying out of my mouth. 

The door flew open and a woman walked in, it was my mum. At least, she sort of resembled my mum. She was wearing these tight-fitting things on her legs, nothing like the linens we usually wore, and her top was long and hung below her waist. She looked at me with eyes just as weird as mine now were, and said: 

‘Why didn’t you go to the toilet if you felt sick? Look at this mess! Go downstairs, get some water and sit down, I’ll sort this out.’ 

I stared blankly at her, slowly walking out of the room as I heard her shout: 

‘No wonder you were sick, if you opened the windows and didn’t leave all these plates of food everywhere it wouldn’t smell so much!’ 

Sick? Food? I had no idea what she was talking about.  

I got downstairs and managed to navigate to the kitchen for some water. Everything looked SO different. There were all these colours, pictures on the walls, the kitchen worktops were black, there were all these weird looking contraptions on the kitchen surfaces. I could see a glass fronted cabinet with cups inside, so took one and filled it from the tap I saw over a sink. It seemed odd to have a tap and sink in the kitchen, instead of the bathroom. There were cups and other things inside the sink – where was the receptacle cleanser? I filled my cup with water from the tap and drank, it tasted unclean. I looked around the room that I should’ve known, but which felt so foreign and unfamiliar, noticing a tall plastic cupboard that didn’t match the rest of the kitchen; it was the only white thing in the room. I pulled at its handle, feeling a slight resistance before the door gave and it opened. Cool air poured out as the contents were illuminated by a small light. I’ve never seen such odd-looking things: there were bottles of varying contents, tubs with strange labels, and a plastic container that looked as though it contained flesh; I could see the blood. I felt the sensation of my stomach clenching again and had to take a few sips of funny tasting water before investigating further. I pulled the container out and read the label: BEEF FILLET STEAK. There was a small rectangle with a blue background and a red and white cross sort of thing, and underneath was written: Beef from British Cows. 

I dropped the container in shock. Why was there animal flesh in this cold cabinet? 

I went to sit down in the living room and saw that the TV was on. I’ve never seen anything like what was being shown; everyone was wearing something different; all the houses were different colours, and people were piloting their own transportation pods which were also different colours.  

It’s been a week since that day; I’ve not stopped watching the TV. The violence of this world, the inequality, the destruction of the forests and the oceans, people dying of hunger and sickness, people being killed by their protectors because their skin is a different colour? This must be a nightmare, or I’ve died and gone to hell. My “mum” has been kind, loving; if it weren’t for her, I don’t know how I’d have made it through the week.  

It was only after something she said this morning that I began searching online for answers. I’d been up all night watching TV when she came into my room and said something that is supposedly a common saying. 

‘Don’t stare at the screen for too long or you’ll get square eyes.’ 

But you see, that’s the thing. I did have square eyes. Everyone did. But not here, wherever here is. 

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Comments: 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 04/06/2022  08:20

@NotDannyGellar so you’re saying that you’re not from this world? From Earth? 

‘NotDannyGellar’ on 04/06/2022  09:13

@TanakaS1990 I’m saying that I’m FROM Earth, and this isn’t it. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 04/06/2022  09:32

@NotDannyGellar you think this is some kind of parallel world or something? 

‘NotDannyGellar’ on 04/06/2022  09:39

@TanakaS1990 I wouldn’t rule it out. How do you live in a place like this? There’s so much pain, violence, destruction and hate. How do you bear it? 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 04/06/2022  10:01

@NotDannyGellar this world isn’t as bad as you think. Sure, there’s a LOT wrong with it; a lot of bad people and bad things happening. But there are so many more good people, or people wanting to be good. You say your mother seems kind and loving, and it’s those people, the people who love and care for us, that help us get through the dark times. Even when the world seems bleak, and it can seem pretty bleak at times, there are always those who live through love, and who fight for what’s right. Is this not what it’s like for you, on your Earth I mean? 

‘NotDannyGellar’ on 04/06/2022  10:25

@TanakaS1990 on my Earth everything is calm. Everyone is treated the same, regardless of what they look like or who they’re attracted to. Everything is fair and uniform; we wear the same clothes, we have the same houses with the same furnishings, we consume nutri-pills to fulfil all our nutritional requirements, and there’s no harming of animals or harvesting of the Earth’s plants or oceans. The pills keep us emotionally balanced, so there’s no crime. The TV only shows programmes about nature, or updates from The Corp. It was always clean and organised; there was no sickness or stress. Not like here. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 04/06/2022  10:38

@NotDannyGellar I can’t deny that a world where the planet and its people are respected would be great. But this sounds like you were being controlled with medication, to an extent at least. I don’t know what to make of your experience; if you have passed from a parallel Earth then I hope you, and the you that should be here, are able to find a way home. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 04/06/2022  23:46

@NotDannyGellar @TanakaS1990 they’re messing with us. It’s just one big experiment and we’re the lab rats. 

Username: NoraH 

Published: 17/06/2022  22:46

I moved around a lot when I was young. I was born in Morocco, but my parents took us all across Europe before we settled in the UK around 30 years ago, when I was 15. 

A few years later, when I was 21, I had a one-night stand with this guy I’d met in a bar. We were careful, used protection, but I ended up pregnant anyway. I didn’t realise until I was already a month gone and I started getting morning sickness. When my parents found out I was pregnant and didn’t know the identity of the father, I had to beg them not to kick me out of the house. They let me stay but could barely look me in the eye. I didn’t know how I felt about being a mother, but I knew I was going to keep the baby. 

My scans were all pretty normal and straightforward, until I was about 5 months pregnant. I had a really bad night one night, it felt like I was only half asleep and the baby was kicking a lot. I woke up around 5am and immediately knew something was wrong; I threw back the covers and screamed with horror. My baby was gone. I don’t mean I’d miscarried; I mean, I was no longer pregnant; my stomach was completely flat. I was in shreds; I took myself straight to the hospital where they seemed sceptical of my claims. I demanded they look at my records, which they did, and soon I was rushed off for a scan. They found no sign of my baby, no sign that I’d ever been pregnant in fact.  

In my upset I knew that I had wanted the baby after all. I grieved for that loss. Each day was a struggle, but I carried on living my life. 

Around 2 months later I had another very bad night; I was restless and uncomfortable. I woke up just as the sun was rising, turning the sky a light pink. My back was painful, and I noticed it was a little difficult when I sat up; the bed covers fell down as I did, and I gasped when I saw how large my stomach had become. It looked just as it had when I was 5 months pregnant. I felt movement. I began to have a panic attack. I threw on a large jumper and went back to the hospital. They looked at me as though I was crazy, until I pulled up my jumper and revealed my baby bump. The scans showed the baby to be in perfect health; they took a DNA test this time and recorded the result, but they wouldn’t tell me why.  

I felt as though I should be overjoyed, I guess a part of me was, but I was terrified. What was happening? How would I tell my parents? I decided to try and hide it from them, which worked for a week or so before my mum got suspicious of me always dressing in large clothes. They both freaked out when they learned the baby was back. My mum kept going on about black magic, saying I was cursed. She told me about this superstitious belief back in Morocco, the story of the Sleeping Child. Supposedly a foetus can be made to lie dormant by dark magic and then awaken months after the usual term and be born. But I’d heard of that story as a teen, it was just a way of writing off accusations of adultery, there was no legitimate basis to it. Besides, my baby hadn’t been dormant – it had gone. 

My parents agreed to let me stay with them again, but swore it was my last chance.  

Time moved on and I grew excited again. I couldn’t explain what had happened, but my baby was back and that seemed the most important thing. I was around 7 months pregnant when I awoke after another bad night, this time it was as though I’d been asleep in a car or something like that, as though I’d been moving around. I woke up with a sense of dread and knew right away that the baby had gone again. I removed my covers and saw that my stomach was flat once more. I screamed with anger and upset, distraught and at a loss for what was happening to me. I took myself to the hospital later that morning; my brain felt as though it was coming to a stop; my eyes were dull and staring blankly at the doctor as they scanned me once again, telling me there was no sign of pregnancy. I left the hospital and felt eyes on me, though I was too emotionally drained to care. 

My parents kicked me out when they found out the baby had gone again. I just about scraped enough money together, between my meagre amount of savings and the benefits I was forced to claim, to afford a small flat. I kept working, kept living, retreating into myself and only doing what was required to maintain my existence. 

Three months passed. 

I suffered another bad night, dreaming I was in a white room – an operating theatre – with people around me; I couldn’t see their faces. I woke up and my body felt bruised, I felt movement inside of me. It was back. Tears rolled down my face as I began to laugh, but not from joy, from frustration, from being so completely astounded and horrified. Another trip to the hospital – my last. 

They scanned me again, all was as it should be for a 7-month pregnancy. They took another DNA test and asked me to wait while they got the results; I didn’t expect them to be available so quickly. When they returned, they told me they’d need to do a different type of scan, one where they’d inject dye into my veins first. I agreed because, at this point, I had nothing to lose and wanted answers. The room began to blur around me and just before I passed out, I heard the doctor say to someone I couldn’t see: 

‘The DNA matches the sample from last time. Somehow it’s the same baby.’ 

When I came around, I was in a hospital bed; the room was set up with various equipment and I noticed an armed guard standing outside the door. A young male nurse was stood beside me, looking at me with what he probably thought passed for a kind smile, but what to me seemed sinister. He told me that I was being kept in a secure facility so that medical professionals would be able to monitor my pregnancy, and ensure the remaining months went as they should. I asked about going home to get my things and was told I couldn’t leave but was free to visit the kitchen and garden with an escort. 

I was helpless and I was exhausted. I didn’t know where I was or what as going on, but I knew that I planned to keep my baby safe. I just didn’t know how I would keep my baby from them. 

The day I went into labour was awful. I felt surrounded; there were multiple guards present, as well as a whole team of medical professionals. The second I pushed my final push, they’d cut the cord and whisked my baby away, I could hear its cries echoing down the corridor as they went. 

As I began to cry, wondering if I’d ever see my baby again, all of the lights went out, the equipment all switching off along with them. The power to the building was completely gone; we were in pitch darkness, there wasn’t even emergency light from any backup generators. I heard panicked shouts coming from down the corridor, sounds of commotion, of gunshots. Some of the medical staff ran from the room to find out what was happening, the remaining stayed and locked the door.  

There was silence for a moment, everything seemed to have stopped, until the door came crashing down, taking out one of the medics with it. I was paralysed with fear when I saw a towering dark figure looming in the doorway. It stepped over the broken door and the person underneath, knocking the remaining two medics out of its way as though swatting at flies, and then stood at my bedside. Though the room was in near total darkness, I felt it looking at me. It raised its hand until it was above my face and I heard a gentle hiss, feeling a cool mist touch my face. I felt calmness and then I felt nothing. 

I awoke to the crashing of waves. I was in a gorgeous bedroom with a window overlooking the sea, and a crib beside me. I jumped up and rushed to it. My baby was there, I knew it was mine, safe and sleeping. On the other side of the room was a set of suitcases containing all of my things and a note. 

‘You can never go back. Keep him safe. We will return.’ 

I didn’t know where I was, it seemed to be an island with me as its only inhabitant, but I felt safe. Everything seemed to remain fully stocked: food, drinks, toiletries; it never ran out. My baby, my Son, seemed perfectly normal apart from a small scar behind his left ear. 

For years it was just the two of us, until he turned 18. They came for him that night, came from the sky and took him. But I knew it would be ok, that he would be ok. When I awoke the next morning I was in an apartment in the US – New York City to be exact. Another note left on the side told me that I had a new identity and enough money to never work again.  

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Comments: 

‘bjefferson42’ on 18/06/2022  01:37

@NoraH sounds like your son was taken by Vatraxians. They been experimenting on folk for years. Best mind yourself and not be too trusting of them. 

‘NoraH’ on 18/06/2022  06:24

@bjefferson42 they have come for me, my son has willed it so. I am safe. I am at peace. I am 

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Further comments on this post have been disabled. 

Username: MaisieDCxx89 

Published: 23/06/2022  13:29

Something awful happened last night. In order for you to understand, I’ll need to let you in on the full story. 

Grandmother once told me the story of why you shouldn’t do your washing on New Year’s Day. She said it brings bad luck, and that a member of your family will die if you do. I never believed in that superstition, but she was positive that her old friend Maggie had lost her sister after she did her washing one New Year’s Day. 

The story goes that Maggie was washing her husband’s shirt on New Year’s Day, because her sister had spilled red wine over him as they celebrated the night before. Only a few weeks passed when Maggie discovered her husband had been having an affair with her sister. Grandmother says that this was the bad luck brought on by doing the washing on New Year’s Day. Maggie’s husband said that he would be leaving her to start a new life with her sister – she was devastated. 

It gets worse though, two days later Maggie’s sister was found dead; the circumstances were both bizarre and horrific. They found her body, squashed beyond all recognition, having been run through a mangle (one of those devices used to press the water out of clothes). Shortly after this, Maggie was arrested, they said she was the one who killed her sister, something she vehemently denied. She was eventually taken to an institution for the criminally insane due to her consistent claims that the mangle had killed her sister of its own accord. 

Now, I’m not one to buy into superstition, but I avoided doing washing on that one day just to please Grandmother, until this year when I was forced to wash my bedsheets following the events of New Year’s Eve. 

My husband Gary and I have always had a happy marriage; sure, it took me a long time to convince him to settle down with me, but he finally came around when Daddy got him a good job working for him. Daddy owns a construction company that builds large housing estates; he doesn’t do much of the construction himself anymore, but he must still do a bit as he stays in good shape, just like Gary. Those two get along like a house on fire, always going out for drinks together. 

Gary works late quite a lot, I know what their deadlines can be like, so often he’ll come home and go straight to bed, but I don’t mind because I know he’s working hard. 

Last Christmas I asked him what he’d like, what his dream present would be, I told him he could ask for anything and I wouldn’t say no. He did surprise me a little when he asked for us to have a threesome; I agreed, I did say he could ask for anything after all. He said he wanted me to be comfortable with it though, so the third person would be another man. That’s Gary for you, he’s kind like that. 

So that was what happened on New Year’s Eve, Gary invited his friend Paul from the gym over and… Well… I don’t need to give you the details!  

Anyway, because of this I washed the bedsheets the next day, I had no choice, it seemed a bit gross to leave them. I wish I’d listened to Grandmother because weird things have started happening ever since. 

It was late February, and it was Gary’s day off; I was in the kitchen about to start preparing a roast when I heard his phone go off in the other room. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the next minute he popped his head round the door and said he was going to the gym for an hour or so before dinner. I heard the front door shut and then I heard a voice. 

‘He’s lying,’ it said, in barely a whisper. 

Well, I nearly jumped clean out of my skin! It was as though someone was standing directly behind me, but nobody was there. I carried on peeling the potatoes. 

‘He’s sleeping with Paul,’ said that voice again. 

I looked around the room, but still saw no one. 

‘Who’s there?’ I called out, feeling stupid. 

‘I am,’ came that whispered voice again. 

Suddenly, the washing machine door popped open, making me jump again. I stood, staring at it, not sure if I was being crazy or if I really believed the voice to belong to the washing machine. As if it read my mind, the voice replied: 

‘You’re not crazy, it is me.’ 

I dropped the potato peeler. 

‘Prove it,’ I said, nervously. 

The washing machine door slammed shut. 

‘Your husband isn’t at the gym,’ it said. ‘He’s with Paul.’ 

‘No…’ I said, feebly. 

‘They’re laughing at how stupid you are,’ it hissed. ‘At how you didn’t notice the way their eyes locked, and their bodies touched, during your night of passion.’ 

‘NO!’ I shouted. 

Everything was silent, no snide response this time. I continued preparing our dinner. 

Gary came home and called out that he was going straight for a shower; I asked why he didn’t use the showers at the gym, and he said they were broken. 

‘More lies,’ the voice whispered again.  

I ignored it. 

A couple of months passed by, with the voice piping up every now and then and saying the same thing, that Gary was cheating on me. I tried my best to ignore it, I knew my Gary wouldn’t do that.  

It was early May when Daddy asked us if we’d like to go with him and Mummy on a holiday to Majorca; they’d booked a nice villa with a private pool. Well, obviously we said yes, Daddy was paying after all! They booked it for the beginning of June. 

It was beautiful out there; the weather was warm, and it was so peaceful. It was nice to have a break from the constant remarks from the washing machine, too. We spent most of the days and evenings by the pool drinking. Mummy made a comment about how lucky we were to have such strong and handsome men as husbands; Daddy laughed and bet that he was stronger than Gary, so Gary pushed him into the pool, but Daddy grabbed him on his way and they both fell in and started wrestling, it was so funny! That night we stayed up late drinking, then Mummy and I decided we were tired and went to bed; Daddy and Gary said they were going to stay up, have some more drinks, and play cards, so we left them to it. I could hear them laughing and talking for a good hour before I finally fell asleep, waking up when Gary finally came to bed around 5am.  

The holiday was desperately needed, it was so nice to clear my head and get away from the washing machine. Unfortunately, it all started again from the moment we got home. I unpacked and brought the washing down ready to put on, when it spoke again. 

‘He’s sleeping with Daddy,’ it whispered, menacingly. 

I shook my head and ignored it, opening its door and piling in the clothes. 

‘He stays late at work so they can spend time together,’ it continued. 

I slammed the door shut and turned the dial; the voice began to speak in crude detail about all the sexual acts it claimed my husband was engaging in with Daddy. I hit the start button angrily with the palm of my hand and stormed out of the room. 

It kept saying these things, and I just continued trying my best to ignore it. 

Yesterday evening I had a call from Gary that he would be working late again; he was helping Daddy with some accounts so told me to have dinner without him. I’d already made a large Cottage Pie, so I thought I’d surprise them by taking them a portion each at the office. I ignored the washing machine as it spouted its usual nonsense about Gary and Daddy. 

When I arrived at the office I couldn’t see either of them, but I could hear the faint sound of Daddy groaning in pain somewhere further in the building. I made my way to the kitchenette and set the container of food down, calling out to see if Daddy was ok.  

‘I’m fine!’ He called out. 

They must’ve been in the break room. I headed down the corridor and heard movement behind the door just before I opened it; Gary and Daddy were both standing beside the sofa looking flushed and sweaty. 

‘Is everything ok?’ I asked, concerned by the sounds of pain I’d heard. ‘Daddy are you hurt?’ 

The two of them looked at each other. 

‘We were moving the furniture around in here and your dad dropped the sofa on his foot,’ said Gary. 

‘Daddy,’ I laughed. ‘You’re a big strong man, pull it together!’ 

He chuckled and asked why I was there, so I told him I’d brought the two of them dinner. They both thanked me and told me not to wait for them as they’d still be a while. 

When I got home the washing machine started up again. 

‘You’re an idiot,’ it seethed. ‘They weren’t moving furniture. You heard them; you know what they were doing.’ 

I tried not to listen; I went upstairs to get some clothes from the laundry basket and returned to put them in the machine. 

‘He’s been laughing at your stupidity, your sheer blindness,’ it said. ‘He’s been doing all of this right under your nose and you’ve just been ignoring it, ignoring me.’ 

I slammed the door of the machine and set it on quick wash. 

‘You deserve better,’ it continued. ‘He needs to be punished for what he’s done.’ 

I looked at the washing machine intently. 

‘W-what are you talking about?’ I stammered. 

It looked back at me; I mean it didn’t have eyes, but I could tell it was looking right at me. 

‘Just ask him to empty me when he gets home,’ it said, matter-of-factly. ‘I’ll take it from there.’ 

‘What do you mean?’ I asked. 

‘I’m just going to teach him a lesson,’ it said. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t cheat on you again, don’t you worry.’ 

It stopped speaking after that. I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down in the lounge, putting on the TV but unable to concentrate. 

Gary came home about 30 minutes later, giving me a kiss before heading into the kitchen to put the empty food container I’d taken to him in the dishwasher. I heard the washing machine beep, signalling that the cycle had ended. I heard Gary open the machine door so went into the kitchen to see what the machine was going to do, hoping it wouldn’t go too hard on him, after all, I wasn’t even sure there really was anything going on between him and Daddy, or him and Paul. 

All of a sudden, Gary’s head seemed to get forced inside the machine and the door started repeatedly slamming on him. I screamed out in terror and tried to help him, grabbing his back and trying my best to stop the door from slamming, but it just kept going. I heard Gary yelling out in pain and fear, but I couldn’t stop it. The washing machine just kept on and on and on and on… 

After a while Gary stopped making any noise; his body was still, his face a tangled mess of blood and other stuff. Finally, I was able to stop the door from slamming on him and pulled his limp body towards me; he was dead, there was no way anyone could have survived such an ordeal. 

‘WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!’ I shouted at the washing machine. 

It stayed silent.  

It hasn’t spoken since last night. My husband’s body is still in the kitchen. 

I don’t know what to do. 

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Comments: 

‘JezD87’ on 23/06/2022  17:24

@MaisieDCxx89 this has got to be a joke, right? Please tell me you’re joking. I know my story might sound unbelievable too, but… A sentient washing machine? Come on. 

‘TanakaS1990’ on 23/06/2022  23:38

@MaisieDCxx89 even I must admit this seems quite a stretch. If this is true, well, I don’t even know how to finish that sentence. 

‘bjefferson42’ on 24/06/2022  02:19

@MaisieDCxx89 I believe you. Reckon something’s playing with you, mind. Maybe they swapped out your machine with one they’d built, one that could mess with you for their entertainment. If you go to the cops they’ll blame you, I can’t tell you what to do with the body, but bear that in mind – ain’t no way they’ll believe your story. They never do. 

‘AJ_UK259 on 30/06/2022  10:13

@JezD87 @TanakaS1990 @bjefferson42 

surreybulletin.co.uk/headlines/315127/woman-who-murdered-husband-blames-washing-machine.html 

HAVE YOU READ IT? It says that her DNA was all over the crime scene. It also says: “Reviews of her internet search history showed in the months leading up to the murder she had been researching how to dispose of the bodies of large animals and researching criminal psychology, specifically grounds for diminished responsibility when on trial for murder. She had also been regularly visiting a website specialising in stories surrounding superstition, one that has become increasingly popular with conspiracy theorists as of late.” 

@twisted_superstition THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT THIS WEBSITE. Not everything can be written off because of aliens. Sure, there are weird things that happen that we can’t explain, I know this to be true because I see evidence of it EVERY DAY. But this woman became so fascinated by some of the utter rubbish perpetuated here that, in her clearly diminished mental state, she convinced herself that her washing machine was alive so that she could blame it for the murder she’d been planning to commit for months. You need to shut this thing down. 

Username: Anna 

Published: 06/07/2022  09:50

I didn’t realise that Ali had created this website after I disappeared. I only discovered it when I saw it mentioned in the news about the previous post. I still don’t know what happened to me, perhaps I never will. This will be the last post on Twisted Superstition, I’ve contacted the webpage provider and explained to them the circumstances. I’ve asked that they close the site to all submissions, but leave it live – in memory of Ali, and her search to find me. 

I don’t know where she is. When I finally got back to the UK she wasn’t home; everything in her house was still in place, like she’d just up and left, and there were SO many letters on the dining table. She’s gone, the same as I was; she’s written to me and told me so. 

I reported her missing, of course, but I was told she’s alive and well; last seen travelling around East Asia before going off the radar. They say that they can’t search for her, because local authorities spoke to her, supposedly she told them that she wanted nothing to do with me and that she wouldn’t speak with me. I know that’s not true. Ali is missing, and someone, something, has stolen her identity.  

I’m sorry to close this website down, it seems like many of you needed this as a safe space to share your experiences, ones that others would never understand. But I can’t leave this open to further submissions, not after the tragic murder that took place due to someone’s total belief in things that are, in reality, unproven and impossible. Let that final post and its devastating ending serve as a warning to those who read the posts available: don’t believe all that you read. 

Never lose faith. 

Anna 

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Username: twisted_superstition 

Published: 13/8/2059  14:42

I’d given up counting the days. I didn’t know how long I’d been trapped until I checked the date of my last post here: 37 years. 37 years of the same day on repeat, of wondering if I’d ever see my sister again. 

While I had smashed my phone on my first go around, I no longer had that issue from the second repeat. My phone stopped working the moment I restarted from 11:11 though, in fact, all communicative technology did, so the call from Anna never came again. 

I can’t tell you how it feels when you realise that all hope is lost, and you resign to being trapped in an eternal moment.  

I did start by echoing Anna’s ideas, by writing letters and leaving them on my dining table, but the longer I found myself stuck the less I wrote, until I eventually stopped trying. I did my best to find variety in my very limited day, but I found I was unable to deviate from the locations I’d visited on my first time around that day – and I’d not left the house. Whenever I tried the front door I found it to be sealed shut, it was as though it was frozen in place. I was trapped. 

The only reason I didn’t go entirely insane was due to the many books I owned and the fact that my TV and streaming services still worked. I spent my days watching everything I could; I taught myself languages by watching subtitled films over and over; I worked out every day; I tried to invent new dishes using the food which replenished itself on each repeat. It was all I could do to ward off the intense feeling of loneliness, isolation, and despair. 

Imagine my surprise and utter disbelief when, after countless repeats, my surroundings changed in a flash, while a strange shock ran through my body. I was still in my house, but everything was completely different: the furniture, the décor, the photos, everything. All that was mine had vanished in an instant. I picked up one of the photo frames, it depicted a couple of young men on their wedding day; the photos on the wall must’ve been of them with their two children. My excitement at my apparent release was quickly replaced with panic and discomfort when I realised the family was sat at the dining table, in what used to be my dining room, all staring at me. 

‘Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?’ one of the dads shouted, flying out of his seat to approach me. 

I stared at him for a moment, blinking and stumbling over my words.  

‘I… Um…’ 

It was all I could process before instinct kicked in and I bolted for the front door, throwing it open and running as far away from the house as possible with my head down to hide my face. 

It was only when I stopped to catch my breath that I noticed the differences. The cars were all models I’d never heard of, and they all seemed sleek and perfectly aerodynamic; it looked as though they all had solar panels on their roofs, and none of them had exhaust pipes. I also realised that there was a faint humming sound present and looked up to see hundreds and hundreds of drones whizzing through the sky in perfectly organised rows, it seemed they were delivering packages to the various homes on the road I’d stopped in. This wasn’t right. 

I took my phone from my pocket and looked at the screen, there was no service and the date and time was blank; I could still access my contacts, I just couldn’t place a call. I approached a woman on the street and asked if I could borrow her phone, showing her the screen of mine to prove it wasn’t working, but she just gave me a funny look and kept on walking. 

In the end I took myself into the local police station and asked to use their phone, showing them mine. The man behind the desk raised his eyebrows at me, laughed, and then pointed at a screen on the wall nearby. It was the size of an average computer monitor and looked to be a touchscreen; a button displayed the words: PLACE CALL. 

I pressed it. 

PAIRING. 

I waited for a minute or so. 

PAIRING FAILED. 

I stared at it, confused, then went back to the reception desk and spoke to the man from before. 

‘Excuse me,’ I said, nervously. ‘I don’t think it’s working.’ 

‘You have to make sure you’re set to pairing,’ he said, disinterested. 

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I replied. 

He huffed impatiently, shook his head, and got up from his desk with all the reluctance of a moody teen. He shuffled over to the screen and pressed the button I just had; it appeared to connect to whatever it had required previously.  

‘Who d’you want to call?’ He said, lazily. 

‘My sister,’ I said, giving him my phone with Anna’s number on display. 

He looked at me with that bemused, yet equally frustrated, expression again and began speaking the number aloud. 

When Anna arrived to pick me up, I barely recognised her, and when she saw me, she broke down into tears. 

It’s been three days since I got back: I’m staying with Anna and her husband right now. She’s 60. She’s a GRANDMOTHER. And me? I’m 26, and because there’s been recorded sightings of me as recent as two months ago, I have no identity; the “me” that’s been existing all these years has taken it from me. It turns out the world has changed a lot during the time I’ve been gone. I’ve missed some huge advances in technology. 

I have so many questions that I’m almost sure will never be answered. 

Who is it that’s been walking around as me for the last 37 years and what were they doing all this time?  

How, and why, was I stuck in an endless loop? 

If Anna and I both retained our phones during our imprisonment, what was it that I heard when the line did connect all those years ago? 

Then there’s the unanswered questions regarding all of your stories. I’m sorry I wasn’t around to support you and help you figure things out. I’m sorry to anyone who wanted to share their stories but couldn’t because this site was closed. I know what it’s like to feel isolated by your experience, and afraid of the inexplicable. I won’t allow people to feel this way anymore. I’m reopening this website to all who need an outlet. 

I will continue to try and decipher the unknown, to find reason behind the mysteries of myths and superstitions. 

Until such a time, I leave you with only one piece of advice: 

Avoid seeing 11:11 at all costs, and if you do see it, you should make a wish. Wish for continued freedom, because in the end: freedom is everything. 

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