…The darkness down here was dense and tangible. It seemed to consume the light from the hole above. Having just got off the ladder, what I could make out around me were dozens of these small, short white pillars scattered around a shelf next to the ladder. I’d later reach out and pick one up and realize that what I was looking at were the stubs of candles burned down to the last. They were arranged along a shelf carved out of the dirt….
…Puzzling things would happen, such as the paper coffee cups which stood stacked in sleeve near the decanters would jump straight up and float to the floor, landing with a plop sound upside-down. Sometimes the spinning wire rack that held those cards people would buy to put minutes on their cell phones would flutter off the hooks in every direction, giving me an aggravating mess to clean up….
…It was a bit to cloudy to see the Comet but we did notice a bright shining orange light kept appearing and disappearing and moving around to different locations in the area. We tried to take a video but it was to dark. It seemed like every 5 to 10 minutes this bright light would just appear in a new spot in the sky before vanishing….
…The bright dot in the sky positioned itself in an area in which a large television tower was located on the Seekonk Rehoboth line. I thought it was likely a reference point to the circular light in the sky. The dome like light then moved in geometrical lines, instantly moving from one position to another. After moving from one position to another, the dome light disappeared as quickly as it arrived….
…This story is about a character who’s name I won’t use, because speaking his name or typing it usually causes him to pop up and try to contact me in some way. It has happened, almost without fail, for all the time I’ve known him. I’ll tell a story about him, or mention his name, and suddenly I will receive a text message or phone call from him. It’s not that I never want to see him again, but rather that he’s the type of chaotic crazy that belongs in a long-closed chapter of my life. For my purposes here, I’ll simply call him the Captain….
Years ago, a friend of mine told me about the time he went to a party in Western Massachusetts, and while hanging around his car with a few others he noticed a large hand print on the rear window. I asked him about it recently but he had trouble recalling the details of exactly where it was, but he remembered the hand print clearly. He told me it was huge – easily twice the size of a large man’s hand, with fat fingers – “like Andre the Giant”. He said several others witnessed this, and were all perplexed….
…The Houghton Mansion is the spooky crown jewel of the Berkshires – it was built by the original mayor of North Adams, AC Houghton, in the 1890s. Members of the Houghton family met an unlucky fate in a horrible car accident, while their chauffeur allegedly took his own life days later in the stables and AC died in the home days after that. There are several local tales of the land underneath, and the general area, being a giant hotspot for strangeness….
…So, naturally when my father took me to Troll Bridge as a kid, he would slowly roll to the opening and give one small honk, wait a few seconds, then proceed. Each time, I would hear soft thuds on the doors of the car – not enough to really scare me, but enough to know something was there….
The beer delivery guy chuckled, and told me “One day I brought in part of a delivery of beer through the basement bulkhead, and this woman was standing there in the basement. I said hi and turned away – then I realized that she was dressed in weirdly old fashioned clothing, and the basement there isn’t the kind of place you’d just be hanging around. When I turned around to look, she was gone!”…