Monday, October 31, 2011

Scary Halloween Stories



Axe Murder Hollow:

A Pennsylvania Ghost Story 

Susan and Ned were driving through a wooded empty section of highway. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, the sky went dark in the torrential downpour.      “We’d better stop,”  said Susan.       Ned nodded his head in agreement. He stepped on the brake, and suddenly the car started to slide on the slick pavement. They plunged off the road and slid to a halt at the bottom of an incline.     Pale and shaking, Ned quickly turned to check if Susan was all right.  When she nodded, Ned relaxed and looked through the rain soaked windows.
“I’m going to see how bad it is,” he told Susan, and when out into the storm. She saw his blurry figure in the headlight, walking around the front of the car. A moment later, he jumped in beside her, soaking wet.       “The car’s not badly damaged, but we’re wheel-deep in mud,” he said. “I’m going to have to go for help.”      Susan swallowed nervously. There would be no quick rescue here. He told her to turn off the headlights and lock the doors until he returned.      Axe Murder Hollow. Although Ned hadn’t said the name aloud, they both knew what he had been thinking when he told her to lock the car.  This was the place where a man had once taken an axe and hacked his wife to death in a jealous rage over an alleged affair. Supposedly, the axe-wielding spirit of the husband continued to haunt this section of the road.      Outside the car, Susan heard a shriek, a loud thump, and a strange gurgling noise. But she couldn’t see anything in the darkness.      Frightened, she shrank down into her seat. She sat in silence for a while, and then she noticed another sound.  Bump. Bump. Bump.  It was a soft sound, like something being blown by the wind.       Suddenly, the car was illuminated by a bright light.  An official sounding voice told her to get out of the car. Ned must have found a police officer.  Susan unlocked the door and stepped out of the car.  As her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she saw it.      Hanging by his feet from the tree next to the car was the dead body of Ned.  His bloody throat had been cut so deeply that he was nearly decapitated. The wind swung his corpse back and forth so that it thumped against the tree. Bump. Bump. Bump.     Susan screamed and ran toward the voice and the light. As she drew close, she realized the light was not coming from a flashlight. Standing there was the glowing figure of a man with a smile on his face and a large, solid, and definitely real axe in his hands. She backed away from the glowing figure until she bumped into the car.        “Playing around when my back was turned,” the ghost whispered, stroking the sharp blade of the axe with his fingers. “You’ve been very naughty.”      The last thing she saw was the glint of the axe blade in the eerie, incandescent light.

Black Aggie:

A Maryland Ghost Story

When Felix Agnus put up the life-sized shrouded bronze statue of a grieving angel, seated on a pedestal, in the Agnus family plot in the Druid Ridge Cemetery, he had no idea what he had started. The statue was a rather eerie figure by day, frozen in a moment of grief and terrible pain. At night, the figure was almost unbelievably creepy; the shroud over its head obscuring the face until you were up close to it. There was a living air about the grieving angel, as if its arms could really reach out and grab you if you weren't careful.
It didn't take long for rumors to sweep through the town and surrounding countryside. They said that the statue - nicknamed Black Aggie - was haunted by the spirit of a mistreated wife who lay beneath her feet. The statue's eyes would glow red at the stroke of midnight, and any living person who returned the statues gaze would instantly be struck blind. Any pregnant woman who passed through her shadow would miscarry. If you sat on her lap at night, the statue would come to life and crush you to death in her dark embrace. If you spoke Black Aggie's name three times at midnight in front of a dark mirror, the evil angel would appear and pull you down to hell. They also said that spirits of the dead would rise from their graves on dark nights to gather around the statue at night.
People began visiting the cemetery just to see the statue, and it was then that the local fraternity decided to make the statue of Grief part of their initiation rites. "Black Aggie" sitting, where candidates for membership had to spend the night crouched beneath the statue with their backs to the grave of General Agnus, became popular.
One dark night, two fraternity members accompanied new hopeful to the cemetery and watched while he took his place underneath the creepy statue. The clouds had obscured the moon that night, and the whole area surrounding the dark statue was filled with a sense of anger and malice. It felt as if a storm were brewing in that part of the cemetery, and to their chagrin, the two fraternity members noticed that gray shadows seemed to be clustering around the body of the frightened fraternity candidate crouching in front of the statue.
What had been a funny initiation rite suddenly took on an air of danger. One of the fraternity brothers stepped forward in alarm to call out to the initiate. As he did, the statue above the boy stirred ominously. The two fraternity brothers froze in shock as the shrouded head turned toward the new candidate. They saw the gleam of glowing red eyes beneath the concealing hood as the statue's arms reached out toward the cowering boy.
With shouts of alarm, the fraternity brothers leapt forward to rescue the new initiate. But it was too late. The initiate gave one horrified yell, and then his body disappeared into the embrace of the dark angel. The fraternity brothers skidded to a halt as the statue thoughtfully rested its glowing eyes upon them. With gasps of terror, the boys fled from the cemetery before the statue could grab them too.
Hearing the screams, a night watchman hurried to the Agnus plot. To his chagrin, he discovered the body of a young man lying at the foot of the statue. The young man had apparently died of fright.
The disruption caused by the statue grew so acute that the Agnus family finally donated it to the Smithsonian museum in Washington D.C.. The grieving angel sat for many years in storage there, never again to plague the citizens visiting the Druid Hill Park Cemetery.

Black Magic:
A Massachusetts ghost story

Mad Henry was a hermit who lived alone in a decrepit mansion at the edge of town.  Rumors were rife about the wild-eyed man.  Some folks said that he was a magician who called upon the powers of darkness to wreck havoc upon his neighbors.  Others called him a mad doctor who could restore life to foul corpses from the local cemetery.  No respectable citizen in town had anything to do with Mad Henry 
Then one year a new family moved to town with a lovely daughter, Rachel, who caught Mad Henry’s eye. He showered the maiden with gifts—goblets of pure gold, necklaces of pearl, and a pot of daisies that never dropped a single petal. Despite the gifts, Rachael fell in love with another, Geoffrey, a handsome young man just home from university. A week after meeting they eloped, leaving behind a stunned Mad Henry.  
When Rachael and Geoffrey returned from the elopement, they threw a big ball and invited everyone in town. While Rachel was waltzing with her father, she heard a  clap of thunder. Lightning flashed again and again. Suddenly, the double doors blew open and a breeze whirled in, bringing with it the smell of dead, decaying things. Mad Henry loomed in the doorway, pupils gleaming red with anger. He was followed by the grotesque figures of the dead, who came marching two by two into the room. Their eye sockets glowed with blue fire as they surrounded the room.Two of the corpses captured Geoffrey and threw him down at the feet of their lord. Red eyes gleaming, Mad Henry drew a silver-bladed knife and casually cut the bridegroom’s throat from ear to ear. Rachel screamed and ran forward, pushing through the foul, stinking corpses of the dead, and flung herself upon her dying husband.  
“Kill us both,” she cried desperately.  
But Mad Henry  plucked the lass out of the pool of blood surrounding her dead husband and carried her out into the thundering night. Behind him, the army of the dead turned from the grizzly scene and followed their master. The sounds of thunder and lightning faded away as the alchemist and his dead companions disappeared into the dark night.  
Geoffrey’s father and Rachael’s father gathered a small mob and followed the evil hermit, intent upon saving Rachel.  When they searched Mad Henry’s house, they found it completely empty save for a light, which shone from a series of mysterious globes that bobbed near the ceiling of each room. Mad Henry had vanished.  
Search parties scoured the countryside for days, but turned up nothing. Geoffrey was buried in the local cemetery, and the dance hall was torn down. No one in town spoke about what had happened, and no one dared imagine what had become of poor Rachel.  
A year to the day after the ball, a timid knock sounded upon the door of Rachael’s parents’ home. When her father opened it, he saw a gaunt, gray figure on the stoop. Her eyes were dull with exhaustion and pain. It was Rachel! Her tongue had been cut out so she couldn’t speak.  But when she produced a knife from her tattered garments—the knife with a silver blade that they had last seen in the hands of Mad Henry— the gleam of satisfaction in Rachel’s eyes told them that the streaks of blood that coated the knife were those of Mad Henry. That night, Rachel died in her sleep with a peaceful smile upon her ravaged face.

Bloody Mary Returns:
A Montana Ghost Story

My stepmother was vile.  I guess most kids think that when their father remarries.  But in this case, it was true.  She only married Father because he was rich, and she hated children.  There were three of us – me (Marie), my middle brother Richard and my youngest brother Charles.  We were the price my stepmother Gerta paid for being rich.  And we were all that stood between her and inheriting Father's money when he died.  So she took steps against us. 
     She sent my youngest brother Charles away to boarding school overseas.  It had a good, scholarly reputation, but it also had the reputation for being a hard school that was full of bullies and strict discipline.  Not a place where a delicate child like Charles, who had been sickly as a baby, would thrive.  He was miserable there.  Somehow, Gerta contrived to keep him there for all but the summer holidays, and when he came home the first year he was pale and thin with dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises.  He cried – he actually cried! – when Father told him he had to go back to the school.  But Father didn’t listen to him.  Gerta thought it would be good for Charles to go there, and so Charles went.  
  I did everything I could – encouraging letters and daily phone calls – until Gerta said it was too expensive and restricted calls to five minutes once a month.   I even got Father to book me a ticket to Europe so I could visit Charles.  Gerta was enraged when she found out.  Her blue eyes went so cold it made chills run up my spine, and her pink mouth thinned into a bitter line that bade ill for me since I had dared to interfere.  Two days before my plane left for Europe, the school called and told us that Charles had climbed up to the tallest tower and flung himself off.  He was dead. 
     Father was shocked, of course, and Gerta was quietly triumphant.  For a few months, Father paid more attention to Richard and myself then he had since our mother died.  But Gerta was beautiful and had winning ways about her that soon drew my Father’s attention away.  And now that one of her hated step-children was dead, she focused on another.  Poor Richard was next. 
     Richard was a sturdy chap who was about to enter high school, and he was really into sports.  He would have thrived at the boarding school that had killed Charles.  So Gerta sent him to an arts school instead.  He hated it, but Gerta had told Father he had “talent”, so there he went.  (You’d think my Father would have learned his lesson with Charles!)  But Richard was a survivor, and he grimly practiced piano and violin when he would rather have played soccer and football.  But Gerta was clever.  She introduced Richard to a couple of high school boys who were everything Richard craved to be – rich, popular, on the football team.  And into drugs.  Gerta made sure Richard had a very large allowance, and kept increasing it as Richard was drawn deeper and deeper under the influence.  Until one day Richard overdosed, and Gerta only had one step-child left.  Me.
     I was sure (sure!) that Gerta knew Richard was doing drugs in his room that day.  She knew he was ill and possibly dying in there.  If she’d “found” him even ten minutes sooner, his life would have been saved.  So said the doctor, and I believed him.  But Father wouldn’t believe me.  He was angry whenever I said anything against Gerta, and told me to hold my tongue.  Still, I knew I was next, and I was sure that Father would not live long after willing his fortune over to his wife.  I decided that if Gerta got too bad, I would run away and live secretly with my aunt in New Jersey until I turned 18.  
     From the moment Richard’s body was found in his room, I forced myself to be a model child.  My homework was done on time, I was polite to Gerta and all her friends, I went on all the family excursions with Gerta and Father – even the dangerous ones like shark-fishing.  You can be sure that I took care to be “sea-sick” indoors and stayed away from the edge of the boat.  Gerta was clever with her tricks.   Everyone thought it was an accident the time we were out shopping and I fell onto the subway in front of an oncoming train.  I managed to roll out of the way on time, but it was way too close for comfort. 
       I had almost decided to run away when my father brought me the sad news that my aunt in New Jersey had died suddenly in her sleep, poisoned by person or persons unknown.  I was appalled. How had Gerta known?  But she had – I could tell from the smirk on her face. 
      I went to my room that night and locked myself in to think.  I could run away, but the money wouldn’t last long.  And I’d need to finish high school or my chances of getting a good job were nil.  Besides, Gerta would still be out there somewhere.  If she could hire someone to poison my only living relative (besides Father), she could hire someone to kill me, whether I was living at home or not. 
      There was only one thing I could think of.  And it was a terrible thing.  A family secret passed down from my Mother’s side for many generations.  It involved a witch named Bloody Mary, who had once tried to kill my many times great grandmother and use the child’s blood to make herself young and beautiful forever.  The witch had been stopped by the child's father (my many times great grandfather) in the nick of time, and the witch had cursed him as she burned at the stake.  Cursed his mirror, and the mirrors of all the men who had condemned her to death at the stake, so that anyone saying her name in front of those mirrors would invoke her vengeful spirit. 
       The story had gotten mixed up over the years, as it was passed down first in their village and then all over the country.  These days, school kids everywhere scared themselves silly chanting Bloody Mary’s name in front of darkened mirrors during sleepover parties, and nothing happened to them.  So no one really believed in the curse.  Of course, no one knew the real story of Bloody Mary.  That was a deep secret handed down by the villagers of long ago.  But I was a direct descendant, and I knew how to summon the witch.  You had to use a mirror owned by someone in the direct blood-line of one of the original families that lived in Bloody Mary’s village.  And the witch's name must be spoken by candlelight a certain number of times in their native tongue.  
       It was an evil thing to do, I knew.  But it was the only way to save my life.  It was either Gerta or me.  If I didn’t fight back, I was dead.  So I took my hard earned money and went out to a specialty store to buy hand-dipped, beeswax candles.  Black ones.  I followed my mother’s directions carefully, placing them at certain intervals around the living room so that they reflected in the huge mirror behind the couch.  Then I lit each one, speaking the spell passed down in my mother’s family.  And I waited.  Father was away on a business trip, and Gerta was out at a party with her latest boyfriend.  She came home late, and scolded me for staying up to study.   Her voice was playful and light – I hated that voice.  It made her sound like she was nice.  But there was also a note of suspicion underlying her words, and she stared hard at the flickering black candles. 
       “Holding a séance, little Marie?” she asked, emphasizing the word little, knowing I hated when she called me that. 
        “I just like working by candlelight,” I said mendaciously, turning a page in my text book. 
        Gerta frowned.  “You know, little Marie, I think it’s time we had a talk,” she said, walking over to the mirror behind the couch and primping her hair. 
        “Yes,” I said softly.  “We should.  You killed my brothers.  And my aunt.  But I won’t let you kill me.”
          Gerta laughed.  “As if you stood a chance against me!” she said, fluffing her long blond hair up behind her shoulders. 
         I spoke the name of Bloody Mary in the native tongue of my ancestors.  Once.  Twice.  Three times.  Inside the mirror, the image of Gerta burst into flames, and another face looked out.  It was the malevolent face of a twisted old crone, ruined with age, and altogether evil.  I ducked behind the chair as Gerta gave a scream of sheer terror, her eyes fixed on the witch.  As I watched from my hiding place, heat burst forth from the mirror, blistering her beautiful alabaster skin.  I could hear the flames roaring as the witch laughed evilly and held out her arms toward my step mother. 
      “Gerta,” crooned Bloody Mary.  “Come to me, Gerta.” 
        And she took my step mother into her arms. 
        Gerta’s terrified scream was suddenly cut off.  The flames disappeared as suddenly as they had come.  When I peeked out from behind the couch, Gerta and Bloody Mary were gone. 
       I called Father at his hotel the next morning to tell him that Gerta hadn’t slept at home.  (Well, it was true!)  He wasn’t pleased.  He called a few of her friends from his hotel room, and quickly discovered she had been carrying on with another man.  With several, if the truth be known.  Father hated infidelity.  He flew home at once to confront Gerta, but she was still missing; presumed run away with one of her flames. 
      Somehow, Father managed to divorce Gerta without ever trying to find her.  And since she had no family in the area except us, everyone accepted the cover story, and no one ever tried to locate her.  Gerta was gone for good.  And Father and I were safe at last. 

The Brick Wall:

A Massachusetts Horror Story

Massey was a soldier unfortunate enough to cross me, his commanding officer.  He did not live to regret it.  There was something very satisfying in the moment when I thrust the tip of my sword into the soldier’s heart during our duel.  I watched him fall to the ground with the satisfaction of a job well done.

The men under my command seem depressed in the following weeks. They mention Massey frequently, but I ignore their conversations.
One night, I retreat to my chambers to sulk and soon was joined by a delegation of men who were friends of Massey. I am surprised and delighted to learn that they had come to their senses and now saw the impertinent lieutenant for the cheat he really was. We share a round of drinks and laughed together.   I’m afraid I drank far too much that evening.
The other soldiers suggested we explore the lower dungeons. That sounded like a fine idea to me.  We set off in merry spirits, drinking and singing and laughing, our voices echoing through the narrow passages. Deeper and deeper we went.  My head started spinning and my legs felt like rubber after all that drinking. I am afraid I passed out from drunkenness, much to my shame.
When I came to, I was lying on my back with my wrists and ankles shackled to the floor. Drunken men, fooling around, I thought.
“Very funny, lads,” I called out. “Now set me free.”
The soldiers didn’t answer me. A moment passed and Massey’s best friend appeared in the doorway, holding mortar and a mason’s trowel.  The other men began handing him bricks and I realize that the soldiers are bricking up the entrance to the cell in which I lay shackled. “Very funny,” I said again.
No one answered me. They worked in silence, laying brick after brick until one row is done, then two. They were playing a nasty joke on me, of course.
Then Massey’s best friend paused in his work and looked directly into my eyes. At that moment I realized that this joke is no joke. Scream after scream ripped from my throat as I struggle against my bonds. But the dungeon was too deep within the fort, and no one heard my screams.  
They were on the final row of bricks. I was reduced to bribery now, desperately using my wealth in an attempt to escape my fate.  But no one listened to my bribes.    I watched in heart-thudding horror as the last brick is put in place, as the last chink of light faded from my sight. I have been entombed alive in the deepest, darkest dungeon of the fort.  I howled in panic, writhing against the iron manacles binding hands and feet and twisting my body. Eventually I fell back against the floor, my wrists and ankles wet with my own blood.
My fingers were torn and throbbing from their intense scrabbling against the hard floor. I found myself weeping angrily, though I have never shed a tear in my lifetime.
The agony of the thought sent me writhing again in spite of the horrible pain racking my wrists, ankles, and hands. Daylight. I must see daylight again. Just once more.
“Don’t leave me here to die alone! Don’t leave me!”  
But I was alone, and the sheer brutal horror of it overwhelmed me. My eyes strained against the complete and utter darkness, and I wondered if they were even open.
Dear God, I can’t get out. I can’t get out. I CAN’T GET OUT!

The Brothers' Revenge:

A Wisconsin Ghost Story

The blizzard was raging fiercely around them as the brothers stumbled down the long road.  they were miles from any farm, and knew they had to seek shelter or freeze to death.  So it was with  gratitude that the two brothers spotted a saloon and pushed their way through the door.  Every eye in the room turned upon them, as the boys ordered coffee with the last of their money. As the bartender went to fetch the hot drink, most of the regulars returned to their conversations.  But one man continued to stare;  a massive butcher with a mop of red hair and a long red beard who was the worse for drink.

“You’re looking at me funny,” the butcher slurred, looming over the two boys.
“We weren’t looking at you,” said the older boy. “We were just warming ourselves by the fire.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” he shouted. Around the room crowd grinned; they loved a good fight. 
 “We didn’t say that,” said the older boy quickly, waving his hands and accidentally  striking the butcher on the arm. That did it. The butcher grabbed the boy by the collar. “No one hits me and gets away with it,” he roared and threw the boy headfirst into the huge fire raging in the hearth. There was a moment of stunned silence in the saloon, and then the elder boy screamed in agony as the flames engulfed him from head to toe. The younger lad shouted in terror. The older boy stumbled out of the fireplace, as the little brother tried to beat out the fire with his small hands.The butcher loomed above them, grinning sadistically as the flaming boy lost consciousness, his screams dying away.
“Your turn,” the butcher said to his brother. The younger boy gasped in fear and fled for his life out into the raging snow. The boy’s little frozen body was not found until the spring.
One evening, a decade after the death of the two young boys, a burly man with a long red beard came strolling down the road one taken by the brothers. The butcher had heard rumors of a ghost but had discarded them as so much poppycock and tavern talk.
As he meandered down the road, he became aware that a silence had fallen. In the odd silence, he heard the footsteps of a large animal. They walked when he walked and stopped when he stopped. Pulse pounding madly, the butcher turned. Behind him, large as an ox, stood a black dog with blazing blue eyes and sharp teeth. The butcher had seen those blue eyes once before, gazing at him from the face of a young boy trying to save his burning brother.
The black dog growled softly and took a step forward. The butcher whirled around to flee and found himself face to face with tall figure covered from head to toe in flames. The burning boy reached out toward the butcher with hands withered and blackened by fire. The butcher gave a terrified scream and fell, blood gushing from eyes and nose. He was dead before he hit the ground.  
      To this day, the black dog and the flaming figure still appeared in that vicinity to harass travelers and speed them on their way.

Death Waltz:
A New Mexico Ghost Story

Within an hour of my arrival at Fort Union, my new post, my best friend Johnny came to the barracks with a broad grin and a friendly clout on the shoulder. He'd hurried over as soon as he heard I had come, and we talked 'til sunset and beyond.
As soon as Johnny mentioned Celia's name, I knew he had it bad for her. To hear him talk, Celia was the most amazing woman who had ever graced God's green earth. She was the sister-in-law of the captain, and all the young men on the base were infatuated with her. Celia was the prettiest of the eligible ladies that graced Fort Union society. She liked the spice of adventure to be found so near the wilds.
Johnny alternated between elation when Celia talked with him and despair when she flirted with another man. I watched their courtship from afar and was troubled. There was something about Celia that I didn't like. I never mentioned it to Johnny, but I thought she was too much of a flirt. I wished Johnny had fallen for a nicer woman.
About a month after I arrived at Fort Union, a birthday dance was given for one of the officers. To Johnny's elation, Celia agreed to be his partner at the dance. Johnny was dancing on cloud nine all night, until a messenger came gasping into the room to report an Apache raid. With a small scream of terror, Celia clung shamelessly to Johnny and begged him not to go even though he was the lieutenant put in charge of the mission. Well sir, Johnny proposed to her right then and there and Celia accepted. Furthermore, Celia told Johnny that she would wait for him, and that if he didn't come back she would never marry. I doubted Celia's sincerity, but Johnny just ate it up.
I was assigned to Johnny's troop, so I had to leave too. We started out the next morning, and had a rough week tracking down and fighting the Apaches. Johnny split up the troop; taking command of the first group and giving me command of the second. My men reached the rendezvous point with no casualties, but only half of the other group arrived, and Johnny was not among them. They'd been ambushed by the Apaches. I had to take command of the troop. We searched for survivors, but never found Johnny's body. As soon as I could, I ordered the men to turn for home.
Celia made a terrible, heart-rending scene when she found out Johnny was missing. She flung herself into my arms when I gave her the news and sobbed becomingly. The display turned my stomach, it was so obviously insincere. I excused myself hastily and left her to the ministrations of the other soldiers. From that time on, I was careful to stay away from Celia, who mourned less than a week for my friend before resuming her flirtatious ways.
About a month later, a rich handsome lieutenant arrived at Fort Union. He was from the East, and Celia took a real shine to him. Johnny was completely forgotten and so was her promise to him. It wasn't long before Celia and the lieutenant were engaged and started planning a big wedding. Nothing but the very best would suit Celia, and her bridegroom had the money to indulge her.
Everyone in Fort Union was invited to the ceremony, and the weather was perfect on the day of the wedding. Everyone turned out in their best clothes and the wedding was a social success. After the ceremony, all the guests were invited to a celebratory ball.
We were waltzing around the ballroom when the door flew open with a loud bang. A gust of cold air blew in, dimming the candles. A heart-wrenching wail echoed through the room. The music stopped abruptly and everyone turned to look at the door. Standing there was the swollen, dead body of a soldier. It was dressed in an officer's uniform. The eyes were burning with a terrible fire. The temple had a huge gash from a hatchet-blow. There was no scalp. It was Johnny.
The whole crowd stood silent, as if in a trance. No one moved, no one murmured. I wanted to cry out when I recognized Johnny, but I was struck dumb like the rest of the wedding guests.
Johnny walked across the room and took Celia out of her bridegroom's arms. She was frozen in horror and could not resist. Johnny looked at the musicians. Still in a trance, they began to play a horrible, demonic sounding waltz. Johnny and Celia began to dance. They swept around and around the room, doing an intricate waltz. Johnny held the white-clad bride tight against his dead body while a deathly pallor crept over her face. Her steps slowed but still Johnny held her tight and moved them around in a grisly parody of a waltz. Celia's eyes bulged. She turned as white as her gown and her mouth sagged open. She gave one small gasp, and died in his arms.
Johnny dropped Celia's body on the floor and stood over her, wringing his blood-stained hands. He threw back his head and gave another unearthly wail that echoed around the room. Then he vanished through the door.
Released from the trance, the crowd gasped and exclaimed. The bridegroom ran to Celia and knelt beside her, wringing his hands in the same manner as Johnny. His cries were all too human.
Unable to bear the sight of the stricken bridegroom, I took my captain aside and asked permission to take a small detail back to the place where our troop had been attacked by the Apaches to search once more for my dead friend. He sent a dozen men with me. We combed the area, and finally found Johnny's body hidden in a crevice. It looked exactly the same as it had appeared on the night of Celia's wedding.
We brought Johnny back to the fort with us and the captain buried him beside Celia. Celia's bridegroom went back East shortly after we buried Johnny, and I resigned my commission a few days later and went home, never wanting to see that cursed place again.
I heard later that Celia's ghost was often seen at dusk, weeping over Johnny's grave, but I never went back to Fort Union to see it for myself.

Ghost in the Alley:

A ghost story from Canada

Rumors were rife about the alleyway behind the tavern. It was haunted, folks said. Haunted by the ghost of a young girl who had been found murdered in that self-same passage. People avoided the small street after dark, for the spirit was said to be a vengeful one. Of course, no one could name anyone whom the ghost had actually killed, but the tales were enough to keep people away from the alley at night.
Then one night, while the tavern was full of drinkers, a nasty character named O’Hare wandered into the bar. Women and children were not safe in his presence, but especially not women. After O’Hare had consumed far too much alcohol, he suddenly announced to the bar that he’d seen a pretty young thing in the alley out back of the tavern. The bartender froze in the middle of polishing a glass, and the men around the bar exchanged covert glances. No one said a word, but everyone was thinking about the ghost of the vengeful young girl.  Everyone in the bar looked down at their glasses as he stumbled to his feet. No one made a move to stop him, and there was a quiet air of “he deserves what’s coming to him” about the bar as O’Hare left the building. It’s just too bad that there isn’t really a ghost, thought the bartender, setting down the shining glass and picking up another one to polish. O’Hare sorely needed a lesson in human kindness and respect for others.
At that moment, a horrible scream came from the alley. Everyone in the tavern looked up in shock and fear. Had there really been a ghost out there? Or was O’Hare up to his old tricks and even now accosting one of their womenfolk?
The men leapt to their feet and raced to the back door of the tavern. Pouring out into the street, they were met by an unnatural cold, and their eyes were dazzled by a blaze of light.
The bartender thrust his way to the front of the crowd and saw the body of O’Hare lying in a pool of bright white light. His throat had been torn to pieces, and blood was spilling out in gushes. Above him hovered the semitransparent figure of a young girl, her eyes gleaming with red fire, her mouth covered with blood. She glared down at O’Hare and then turned to look at the crowd. The specter licked the blood from her lips thoughtfully, her eyes on the bartender’s neck. Then she vanished, taking the light with her.  At their feet, O’Hare gasped out his last breath and died.
The local authorities were summoned to deal with the body of O’Hare. Though skeptical at first, they were finally convinced, since there had been so many eyewitnesses who had seen the ghost hovering over the dying man.
The bartender resigned his position the next morning and took a job across town, the memory of the ghost’s hungry stare at his neck prompting him to look elsewhere for employment.

Fortunately for the owners of the tavern that backed onto the alley, their front door faced a well-lit road and so business was not slack.

Vampire Hermit:

A Scary New York Folktale
She was nervous when her husband said they were to stay in the abandoned house, for it contained  the corpse of the hermit who once lived there, enshrined in a coffin in the loft. It was an old custom and one no longer popular among the Iroquois people, but the hermit had insisted upon it before his death.  There was good hunting in this place, her man had declared, and so they moved in and she unpacked their few belongings in the front room, refusing to go up into the loft where the hermit’s body lay.
When her husband left to hunt, she immediately put her daughter in the sling on her back and went to look for roots and berries, staying away until her husband returned with the meat.  As she prepared the evening meal for them, her husband, tired from his hunting, climbed up into the loft to rest.
The hut soon filled with the delicious smell of roasting meat. She was sorting through the berries when she heard a muffled cry and the crunch of breaking bones. As she stared upward, frozen in horror, blood started to drip from the rafters.
She crept silently to the far corner of the room where she could see up into the loft. A skeleton with glowing red eye sockets was feasting on the body of her husband. Its teeth and chin covered with blood,.
Her daughter stirred restlessly at her back, and she knew that she had to get away immediately.
“I am going to run down to the stream to fetch water for the broth,” she called toward the loft. “I will be right back.” She took the pail and walked toward the stream, trying to appear normal. As soon as she was out of sight among the trees, she started to run as fast as she could. She heard a terrible howl from the direction of the house as the creature heard them escaping and started to pursue. The young mother stumbled desperately through the woods, the creature’s howls growing closer as it pursued them.  Her little daughter wailed  in fright at her back as she fled in terror, sobbing and was almost without hope The monster was gaining on her.
In a last act of despair, she shouted the Iroquois distress cry, hoping someone would be near enough to hear it. Her call was taken up and answered by the warriors from the village. She could hear the creature breathing behind her as she sprinted to the trees at the edge of the village. Here, her strength failed her, and she collapsed to the ground,
Just before the monster could pounce on them, a party of warriors burst through the gates of the village chasing the skeleton away. They swung their torches wide, and the skeleton retreated farther into the woods.  The warriors chased the creature back to the hermit’s house, and set fire to the cabin. As the flames encompassed the house, a terrible howling and roaring came from the loft, and the vampire hermit fled into the woods in the form of a rabbit, never again to plague the young woman or her daughter.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

America's 6 Most Haunted Cities

San Francisco California:
San Francisco's rich cultural makeup and history of natural disasters like earthquakes have developed a reputation as a mecca of all things haunted. Chinatown alone is home to countless ghost tours and creepy folklore, but the city also boasts a wealth of haunted hotels, mansions and army bases. The top Ten most haunted are as followed:

Alcatraz Island: One of San Francisco's most famous landmarks, but the former maximum-security prison is also home to some of the city's weirdest ghost stories. visitors often claim to see apparitions walking the cellblocks, and sometimes hear voices emanating from what was once the cafeteria. Along with chains, footsteps, screaming and even laughing.

Abraham Lincoln high school:
Late at night people have heard toilet paper unraveling in the girls bathroom by the main office. Also, in the girls bathroom by the band room, feet can be seen in the stall when no one else is in there and someone whispering "hi". The room by the cafeteria is locked and no one is allowed in there since a girl was raped and murdered in that room.

Bay Bridge:
While driving over this bridge on the lower deck at night towards Oakland, some drivers have heard knocking on their windows from a ghost of someone who died in the 1989 earthquake.

The Mansion Hotel:
The original owner's daughter, Claudia, has been seen and heard by the staff and guests. She has also been known to respond to "yes" and "no" answers.

Queen Anne Hotel:
Is a Victorian hotel that dates back to the 1890's. Room 410, which is Missy Mary Lakes room, is said to be haunted and that you can see her walking the hallways on that floor.

San Francisco Art Institute:
Is apparently built onto a cemetery and is haunted by restless spirits.

Stowe Lake:
Strawberry Park, Golden Gate Park. The lady of Stowe lake glides along the pathways near the lake. She can manifest into an orange light or into a palm tree like shape she is said to be looking for her baby.

Sutro Baths:
It has been reported that many people have been sacrificed at the end of the tunnel, and if you go at night and light a candle at the end of the tunnel you will get thrown into the water that rushes just beyond the rocks.

Whittier Mansion:
Built on a hill in pacific heights the mansion is said to have strange occurrences around the basement and servent's quarters.

Lucas Film:
Formerly known as Abandoned Army Hospital: many soldiers died and their ghosts haunt the hospital. Many of the windows have been boarded up and many are broken and it is musty, graffiti-filled, and very spooky. You can hear footsteps; see reflections of light, and sometimes a cold draft or two can be felt.

Key West, Florida:
The city's rich history of buccaneers and rumrunners provides the perfect backdrop for a lot of these ghost.
The top ten most haunted are:

Robert The Doll:
One of the creepiest artifacts in the islands art and historical museum. This is said to be possessed. The doll was given to painter Gene Otto in the early 1900's, and the young boy soon became deathly afraid of it, as he said it would often threaten him and wake him in the night by throwing furniture around the room. The boy's parents would often swear they saw the doll moving, and neighbors claimed they often spotted robert pacing in front of the window when the family was away.

Hardrock Cafe, Duval Street:
Located in a large house on Duval street this resturant is said to be haunted by Robert Curry. The house was built by William Curry who was a millionaire to be a wedding gift for his son Robert. Robert was a very sick man all his life but late in life he found himself in control of the family fortune and it was not long until all the money was gone. Robert shot himself in a bathroom on the second floor of the house. Many people have claimed to see Robert walking the halls and then vanish.

Fort Zachary Taylor:
Yellow Fever once killed as many as 15 people a day at the fort. Over the years thousands of people died in the fort. Soldiers are seen to line up in formation and whistles and gunshots are heard in the fort. Downstairs in the fort there are very cold spots that should be impossible in the tropics. Several executions did take place here and every day at noon it is said that you can hear the trap door open when someone is hung. Screams and pleas for mercy have also been heard to come from the jail area. A young girl ghost with severe burns is often seen near the old hospital area.

Eaton Lodge:
Is a victorian style mansion, that was built in 1886. It was once the home of Key West's only surgeon Dr. William Warren and his wife Genevieve Warren. As well as living in the home William would also performe procedures on the premises and is said that he would pace the halls at night worrying about his patients. 
    Sightings of a woman in a formal dress believed to be Genevieve still roams about the gardens, and a man in an old fashioned suit is believed to be the spirit of Dr. Warren still paces up and down the halls at night. Two little girls have been reported, they may be the ghosts of the twin daughters of Dr. Warren. Along with the normal reports are lights that turn on and off, and small objects sometimes disappearing and reappearing, the sound of someone using an old typewriter can be heard throughout the night. 

Marrero's Guest Mansion:
This mansion was built in 1889 by cigar producer Francisco Marrer, who wanted to entice his new bride, Enriquetta, to settle on the island. After he died (from mysterious causes), his previous wife arrived in key west and promptly evicted Enriquetta and her children. Her spirit, is said to haunt the house. Guest have reported hearing sounds of crying children which is odd indeed, because the B&B doesn't allow children today.

Captain Tony's Saloon:
Before being turned into a bar this building was used as the first morgue on the island. It was conveniently located, as the hanging tree where murderers and pirates were excuted stood right beside the morgue. This tree, from which 75 people where hanged, now grows through the center of the building. Believe it or not, 16 skeletons were found when they were laying a new foundation. There is a tombstone in the pool room where the coroner buried his daughter. Guys, you might want to be careful of what women you hit on. Rumor has it that a woman that was executed for killing her husband and child can still be seen there.

Hemingway Home and Museum:
This was the home of the legendary author Ernest Hemingway from 1921 until his suicide in 1961. Now it is the home of 60 cats all direct descendants of the 16 cats Hemingway had when he lived here. His ghost has been spotted all over the grounds, accompanied by the sound of a typewriter.

Banyan Resort:
The Banyan resort originally consisted of six homes that were constructed as a privet residences during the mid 1800's. The individual owners of these properties decided to combine their interests in the early 1980's and convert them into "The Banyan Resort and Guesthouse".
    Visitors have reported seeing and hearing the presence of Captain Cosgrove as he seems to be attached to the house which he loved so dearly. Another mysterious ghost is called "the Chocolate ghost" because it seems to steal the chocolates left in the rooms.

St. Pauls Episcopal Church:
The church was built in 1831 and has since been rebuilt several times due to hurricanes and a fire.
    Behind the church sets a small garden and memorial graveyard where many have claimed to witness the vaporous apparition of a man in 19th century attire and at times another ghostly spirit that appears to be a legendary sea captain who frightens visitors.
    Several different spirits have been reported at St. Paul's cemetery including the apparition of children huddled around the statue of an angel that stands in the corner of the garden. One of the spirits include a man who expelled pirates from Key West. Accounts report he has actually attacked people stopping by the cemetery, causing ghost tours to avoid going through the cemetery because of these incidences. There are also several schoolchildren who reportedly haunt the cemetery; these children died in a nearby fire started by the pastor of the church who became enraged when he discovered that his wife and the deacon were involved in an affair together.

Crowne Plaza La Concha Hotel:
Is a 160 room hotel said to be haunted by a man who lost his life after falling into an empty elevator shaft. It is also said to be home to the haunted gift shop. Guests of the hotel have reported feeling someone tap them on the shoulder, but when they turn to see who it is they find no one there.
    This seven story hotel has also been the scene of many suicides as some 13 people leaped to their death from the rooftop observation deck, and some of these spirits may also remain. A lawyer who leapt to his death in 1992 after being accused of embezzlement can still be seen pacing back and forth contemplating. One gentleman who took the leap in 2006 reportedly downed a glass of Chardonnay before doing so. Since then, patrons have reported their glasses of Chardonnay were sometimes suddenly jerked from their hands by an unseen force.

Washington D.C.:
D.C has a historic and glorious past. Our nation's capital is rich in history and monumental democratic achievements, but behind its gates and within its corridors, a darker past is hidden. Conspiracies, crimes of passion, duels and assassinations are just a few reasons washington is supposedly haunted. The top ten most haunted are:

Capitol Hill, The Capitol:
The U.S capitol is considered one of the most haunted buildings in Washington. The first appartion to be seen there was in the 1860's as the capitol was being completed. Several spirits are said to haunt the capitol due to tragedies associated with its construction. One such ghost is said to be that of a worker who died after a fall during the construction of the rotunda and who now is occasionally seen floating beneath the dome carrying a tray of woodworking tools. Another spirit is allegedly a stonemason who died (crushed to death beneath a wall which collapsed, or murdered by a co-worker) and is seen in the old senate chambers or passing through a wall in the basement.
    Many politicians with strong personalities and a powerful attachment to the institution of congress are reputed to still roam the halls of congress.
    The Capitol has also been witness to murder and death. Rep. William P. Taulbee was shot and killed by Charles E. Kincaid, on a marble staircase leading from the House chamber down to the dining room, the bloodstains are said to still be there to this day.
    Other ghost reported to be seen here are that of John Quincy Adams and James A. Garfield.
    Not all hauntings here are related to people though the "Demon Black Cat" is said to prowl the halls of congress and make appearances just before a national tragedy or change in Presidential administration. 
    Capitol hill is one of the largest and most densely populated neighborhoods in Washington. One ghost said to haunt First Street NE. is that of Joseph Holt was Judge Advocate General of the United States Army from 1862 to 1875.
    Other hauntings are associated with the two military installations in that part of the city.
At the nearby Washington Navy yard the ghost of Commodore Thomas Tingey is said to stare out of the upper windows of the Tingey House.

White House:
Is the oldest building on Presidents Park. The first people to occupy the house was John Adams and his wife Abigail. She can be seen still carrying laundry into the East Room, accompanied by the smell of soap or damp clothing.  
    Abraham Lincoln is another ghost said to haunt the white house, his footsteps can often be heard in the hall outside of the Lincoln bedroom. Not only have people seen Lincoln but they have also seen his son Willie Lincoln who died at the age of 11 of Typhoid.
    Other Presidents, as well as first ladies, are also said to haunt the white house. Thomas Jefferson can be heard playing his violin, Andrew Jackson is said to be seen laying on what is thought to be his old bed in the Queens Bedroom, William Henry Harrison is said to haunt the attic and president John Tyler haunts the blue oval room, also said to haunt this room is former first lady Frances Folsom Cleveland.
    The white house is also said to be haunted by three spirits who did not live there. The first is that of David Burns, who owned the ground on which the white house stands. The second is that of a british soldier dressed in a uniform from the war of 1812 and carrying a torch. Another spirit said to haunt the white house is that of Anna Surratt, daughter of convicted Lincoln assassination co-conspirator Mary Surratt. 

President's Park, aka Lafayette Square:
 Philip Barton Key II son of Francis Scott Key and nephew of Chief Justice Roger B. Taney. Began having an affair in the spring of 1858, with Teresa Bagioli Sickles, the wife of his friend Daniel Sickles. On February 26, 1859, Sickles learned of the affair. The following day, he saw key in Lafayette Square signalling to his wife. Sickles rushed out into the park, drew a pistol, and shot the unarmed key three times while key pleaded for his life. 
    Decatur Hose is allegedly haunted by the ghost of Stephen Decatur. In 1820, Commodore James Barron challenged Commodore Decatur to a duel over comments Decatur had made regarding Barron's conduct in the chesapeake-Leopard affair of 1807. The two men duelled on March 20, and Decatur was mortally wounded in the stomach. He was rushed back to his home where he later died. 
    St. John's Episcopal Church is said to contain a President's pew. According to at least two accounts, whenever the bell tolls because of the death of a notable person, six ghostly men in white robes appear in the presidents pew at midnight and then vanish.  
    The cutts-Madison House is said to be the home of the spirit of Dolley Madison its said you can see her rocking in a chair and smiling at passersby.

The Octagon House:
Is reported to be the most haunted home in D.C. It was built by Colonel John Tayloe III. John was a close friend of George Washington who convinced him to build a winter home in the new city of Washington. There is some evidence that walled back yard of The Octagon itself may have served as a slave market, and it is well established that the rear of the building housed the Tayloe family's slaves. Apparitions and the presence of otherworldly forces have been seen and felt in many places at the house, including on the spiral staircase, the second floor landing, the third floor landing, the third floor bedroom, and the garden area in the rear. Two of Colonel Tayloe's daughters are said to haunt The Octagon. The first allegedly died after having a fight with her father on the second floor landing over the girl's relationship with a british officer, she turned to go down the stairs and in her anger fell and died. The same is said to have happened with the second girl only that fight with her father was on the third floor landing and it was over her eloping. 
    The octagon house is also said to be haunted by the spirits of african american slaves who once lived there. 
    other spirits said to haunt the house is that of Dolley Madison, as well as that of a slave girl, a british soldier and a gambler who was shot to death there. 

Independence Avenue SW:
The spirits of slaves are also said to haunt a portion of Independence Avenue, the site of two of the city's largest and most notorious slave markets. On dark nights, witnesses say they have heard the clinking of chains and screams on independence Avenue where these slave pens used to be.

 In the 1930's it was populated by German immigrants. Before the American Civil War, 7th street NW was the city's primary commercial district. On this street is Mary Surratt's boarding house which is now a chinese restaurant, but it also is the home of Mary Surratt's ghost as well. Occupants of the building have claimed that Surratt's spirit is responsible for the incomprehensible mumbling and whispers, footsteps, muffled sobs, and creaking floorboards which have unnerved them.

National Theatre, Washington D.C.
 Was opened on December 7, 1835, although the old building was torn down and replaced with the current structure in 1923. Nonetheless some claim the theatre is haunted by the ghost of actor John McCullough, who was murdered in the 1880's by a fellow thespian where the modern stage is located today.   

Hay-Adams Hotel:
The Hay-Adams Hotel is said to be the home of Marian "Clover" Hooper Adams. She was the wife of Henry Brooks Adams, the celebrated 19th century American journalist, historian, academic and novelist who was the grandson of John Quincy Adams.
    Marian was extremely close to her father and when passed anyway on April 13, 1885, she sank into a deep depression, and commited suicide on December 6, 1885, by swallowing Potassium Cyanide.
    Even though Marian never lived in the house where the Hay-Adams hotel is today her spirit is said to haunt it to this day. Staff members claim to hear a woman sobbing, while others say door's lock on their own as well as opening and closing, clock radios turning on and off, and a woman's voice whispering "What do you want?" A few witnesses say the ghost is accompanied by the scent of mimosa, Adams' favorite scent. The incidents are located primarily on the hotel's fourth floor, and occur usually during the first two weeks of December.

Walsh Mansion:
One of the most important buildings in the Dupont circle neighborhood is the Walsh Mansion (now the embassy of Indonesia). Built for Thomas J. Walsh, and was handed down to his daughter Evalyn and her husband, she lived in the house until her death in April 26, 1947. Then sold by her husband to cover her debts, to this day it is said that you can see her spirit walking down the grand staircase.

Edward Braddock is said to haunt this area it is said you can hear shouted military orders, horses' hooves on cobblestones, the sound of men marching, and the sound of metal clanking against metal. The sounds can be heard near the old long bridge or near georgetown bluffs overlooking the Potomac river.

Philadelphia Pennsylvania:
The birthplace of America, the city where the founding fathers lived and the Declaration of Independence was signed. Today that history echoes in the original buildings and museums of the area often called "Historic Philadelphia." 
    The top ten most haunted are:

City Tavern:
Is a historic building often called "most genteel tavern in America" by John Adams, it was the favorite meeting place of many of the founding fathers and was the unofficial site of the First Continental Congress. The tavern was built in 1773 and was partially destroyed by fire on March 22, 1834.
    It is said to be haunted by at least two spirits. One story tells of a waiter who met his untimely death in a duel around 1790. His bloody apparition is sometimes seen falling to the ground in the tavern. He is also blamed for moving table settings and clattering silverware.
    In another tale, a bride-to-be was upstairs with her attendants preparing for her nuptials. During the excitement, a candle set a curtain on fire and the flame quickly engulfed the room and the building. The bride died in that fire. Today, her blurry white apparition still dressed in her wedding gown with a long train can sometimes be seen or sensed on the second floor of the premises.

Cliveden Manor:
Also known as the Benjamin Chew House, is a historic mansion in Germantown, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. It was the scene of some of the bloodiest fighting of the battle of Germantown, fought in 1777 during the American Revolutionary War.
    The mansion was inhabited from colonial times by seven generations of the Chew family, from Benjamin Chew, who built the house from 1763 to 1767, up until 1972. Benjamin Chew was a supreme court justice for the state of Pennsylvania and was among the wealthy elite in 18th century colonial America. His mansion at Cliveden was merely a summer home.
    Approximately 57 Americans died on the grounds while attacking the Chew House and a small number of British were killed inside the residence. While many victims from the battle were buried further down Germantown Avenue at the Upper and Lower Burying Grounds, spirits from the conflict are believed to remain to this day. The spirit of a british soldier is believed to frequent Cliveden's pebble stone drivway. The noisy phantom caused so much commotion that citizens of Germantown organized a committee in the early 19th century to seek its capture. The spirit proved elusive and is still said to haunt Germantown Avenue.  
 Eerie occurrences continue to manifest at Cliveden to this very day. A human skeleton was found inside a cleft tree on the property and tour guides regularly report flickering lights and strange sounds in the house.

Was the home of the Wister family. It was built as a summer residence in 1744 by Philadelphia merchant and wine importer John Wister. It eventually became the family's year-round residence when they withdrew from the city during the Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1793.
    In September 1777, the house was the scene of events in the Battle of Germantown. While the Wisters were staying in another home, British General James Agnew occupied the house as his headquarters during the battle. He was wounded and died in the front parlor, where his blood stains can still be seen on the floor. His bloodstains are not the only thing that linger at the house. The General's ethereal presence can be felt there as well.
    The General's ghost is not the only one at Grumblethorpe. The other spirit is said to be that of a woman named Justinia. She was orphaned in the yellow fever epidemic and taken in by the Wisters. Justinia loved to bake bread, and baked bread every Friday night for distribution to the poor on Saturday morning. Justinia died in 1820, but her spirit has never left the house that was her home. Her spirit is most likely to be encountered on Friday evenings after sunset. Sometimes her presence is accompanied by the sweet smell of freshly baked bread.

Washington Square:
Originally designated in 1682 as a Southeast Square. During the 18th century, the square was used to graze animals and for burials by the city's African American community and as a potter's field, During the Revolutionary War, the square was used as a burial ground for citizens and troops from the colonial army. 
    After the Revolution, victims of the city's yellow fever epidemics were interred here. 
    The square is said to be haunted by Leah, a Quaker woman who patrolled the cemetery late at night to protect the deceased from graverobbers. She has been seen by many ghost tour guests, and even by a Philadelphia City police officer. A paranormal investigator had a heart attack after seeing something in this park. As you visit the park, please take notice of this - although the nearby streets and many of the other parks are full of homeless people sleeping on the benches, Washington Square is nearly deserted.

USS Olympia:
Is a protected cruiser which saw service in the United States Navy from her commissioning in 1895 until 1922.
    In 1921, the ship carried the remains of World War I's unknown soldier from France to Washington, DC, where his body was interred in Arlington National Cemetery.
    Olympia was decommissioned for the last time in December 1922 and placed on reserve.
    Olympia has been a museum ship in Philadelphia Pennsylvania, which is now part of the Independence Seaport Museum. As of 2010, Olmpia's future was uncertain; the museum may have to sell the ship for scrap or sink her as an artificial reef.
    The Ghostly Stories. There are many ghost stories surrounding the USS Olympia. Recently, more and more individuals have started to share their experiences. A man that volunteers on the ship by the name of Harry Burkhardt shared the fact that he felt someone grab his arms in the boiler room region of the ship. He claims that the touch - which felt like two hands was ice cold and that there was no one else in the room.
    A visitor to the ship named Melissa Miller claimed that when she was in the engine room, she watched the manifestation of an apparition that had a full body appear in front of her.
    A worker for the ship by the name of Chris Hall was informed by many guests that they witnessed the appearance of a man that was translucent in nature appear in front of them.
    In the boiler room, a female voice has been heard saying "I think he is ok" and this apparent female spirit also seems to laugh occasionally.
    A dark shadow has been observed in the engine room.
  A man in a suit has been seen in the corridor at the rear section of the ship. During an investigation regarding this eye witness account, a man's voice was picked up on an EVP recording as saying "I think I'm in Love".
    Voices yelling "Get Out!" have been captured and heard.
 A man has been observed walking around in a white navy uniform and has been seen disappearing.
    In one instance, a voice was documented in saying "Saving the ship".

Powel House:
This elegant Georgian brick mansion was built in 1765 by merchant and shipmaster Charles Stedman. When Stedman fell on financial difficulties, the house was sold to Samuel Powel on August 2, 1769. He served as the last mayor of Philadelphia under British rule and became the city's first mayor after the Revolution. He and his wife Elizabeth Willing Powel were well known for their hospitality and frequently entertained such notable  guests as George and Martha Washington, John Adams, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, and the Marquis de Lafayette. 
    The house is said to be haunted by Marquis de Lafayette, Benedict Arnold and his wife Peggy, and Continental Soldiers. 

Independence Hall:
The building was completed in 1753 as the colonial legislature. It became the principal meeting place of the second contiental congress from 1775 to 1783. 
    It is known primarily as the location where both the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution were debated and adopted. 
     Entities have been seen wandering around the first floor of the Hall's central clock tower. A national park ranger was about to close the building for the night, when the security alarm went off on the first floor level of the clock tower. As he entered the area, he saw a male apparition dressed in 18th century clothing.
    The entity of Ben Franklin has been seen around his favorite places in Philadelphia, and Independence Hall is one of them.
    The entity of Benedict Arnold is seen here as well, perhaps reliving his troubles.

Betsy Ross House:
Ross never owned the house, but rented it between the years of 1773 and 1786. The house was built about 1740 and consists of 3-1/2 floors and six rooms plus an attic. Betsy and her husband John Ross, lived here and ran their upholstery business out of the house as well.
    The house is said to be haunted by the ghost of Betsy Ross herself, many visitors have reported seeing her seated by the foot of the basement bed. She appears to be crying. She experienced so much loss in her life, I am not surprised! One guide also reported that while in the basement kitchen, she heard a female voice say , "Pardon Me."
Another source for a basement haunting could be that a gift shop employee was said to be murdered during a robbery years ago.

St. Peter's Episcopal Church:
It opened for worship on September 4, 1761 and served as a place of worship for many of the United States Founding Fathers during the period of the Continental Congresses.
    There have been sitings of restless Native Americans walking the grounds, horse-drawn carriages moving through the cemetery toward the church and an African American man dressed in colonial uniform wandering the cemetery at night.

Physick House:
Was the home of Philip Syng Physick, called "Father of American surgery".
    The four story brick house was built in 1786 by wealthy Madeira wine importer Henry Hill. It was the residence of Dr. Physick after separating from his wife, Elizabeth Emlen Physick, in 1815 until his death in 1837.
    Dr. Physick was among the very few courageous doctors who remained in the city to care for the sick during the Yellow fever epidemic of 1793. Among his many patients were President Andrew Jackson, Dolly Madison, Dr. Benjamin Rush, and Chief Justice John Marshall.
    The Physick house is said to be very haunted people have reported seeing otherworldly forms and have heard footsteps when no one else was around to make them, people have also reported hearing disembodied voices.

Charleston South Carolina:
Known as the Holy City it's surprising to note that this city is said to be the most haunted city in America, it's said to be so haunted in fact that if your just walking down the street you could come face to face with someone from Charleston's past life. Top seven most haunted places are as followed.

The Old City Jail:
The first structures were erected on the site in 1738, as the property was used as a workhouse for slaves and makeshift hospital for "paupers, vagrants, and beggars." Criminals were kept separate from non-offenders, and were punished with shackles, whippings, and deprivation of food and water. As the operation expanded over the years, and numerous structures were built then demolished, or burned, tortures and executions at the site increased. These included being burned at the stake, branded, drawn and quartered, or having one's ear nailed to a post, until the ear was finally sliced off; however this one was usually saved for the horse thieves.
    In some rooms, prisoners were locked in cages, barely the size of a person's body, packed in like sardines. Disease was rampant, and tortures continued. Rapes of both men and women were common. During its operation until 1939, over 10,000 people died on the property.
    Some of the hauntings reported are as followed. During renovation in 2000, though the building was locked, bare footprints were found in the dust. Afterwards several workers saw the apparition of a jailer with a rifle on the third floor.
    things seem to disappear. In the basement, a man had his sunglasses knocked off by a violent unseen force. Also in the basement, during 90 degree temperatures, breath can be seen as a cloud of fog.
    Alarms seem to set and reset themselves.
A black man, wearing ragged clothing, has been seen wandering the halls.
    There are numerous cell phone disruptions, including calls from unknown numbers and batteries draining then charging up again.
    Doors are found opened after being closed. A heavy iron door fell off its hinges for no appsrent reason during a tour.
    Many visitors have captured EVP with video cameras.
Several guides and visitors have complained of a choking feeling, and shortness of breath, while on the main staircase.
    Visitors involved in corrections often become queasy and complain of a foul odor.
    One guide felt a rope "snake" around her ankles.
Numerous visitors have been pushed and shoved by unseen forces.

Battery Carriage House Inn:
Built in 1843, this grand mansion became the showcase home of a merchant who became wealthy importing and exporting cotton. 
    In the 1920's and 30's some rather wild parties took place here, complete with ladies of the night, stripping for guests and customers.
    Manifestations include a broad chested, tall male entity, dressed in a buttonless, rough materialed overcoat, whose apparition only appears showing its torso, he likes bothering men who stay in room 8, but never hurts them. Guests get the feeling of being watched by this unseen presence, who isnt deemed to have the nicest character. 
    A male entity named "The Gentleman Ghost." Appearently this one appears to people in room 10, this ghost has been dubbed a gentleman mostly because he tends to comfort scared women. Although men who stay in this room tend to get a very uneasy negative feeling. 

Aiken-Rhett House:
Built in 1817 for John Robinson, a local merchant, who lived in the house for eight years. He was however was forced to sale it in 1825 when he lost five ships at sea. In 1827 the house was purchased by William Aiken, Sr. He didn't live there though he rented it out. When he died the estate was divided between his wife and son. In 1833 his son, William, moved into the home with his wife Harriet Lowndes. After they passed away, the house was then owned by their daughter Henrietta and her husband, Major A.B. Rhett. The home was then left to their children. Two of their sons I'On Rhett and Andrew Burnet Rhett Jr., continued to live there. In 1949, I'On purchased the house from his siblings and lived there with his wife Frances Hinson Dill. she inturn donated the home to the Charleston Museum. 
    It is believed to be haunted. Many claim to see a ghostly woman roaming through the rooms, and even hear footsteps.  

Dock Street Theatre:
 The theatre was built in 1735, and was America's first theatre building designed solely for theatrical performances.
    In 1809 the Old theatre was replaced by the prestigious planters Inn hotel. It remained as a hotel until June of 2007 when a twenty million dollar renovation project began and continued for three years. Dock Street Theatre was reopened on March 18, 2010. 
    It is claimed to be haunted by spirits, in the area of the theatre you may just encounter the spirit of the whistling doctor. 

Thomas Rose House:
Probably built by planter Thomas Rose in 1733. The property had been inherited by his wife, Beuler Elliott.
    In 1786, Doctor Joseph Ladd Brown was carried to his room in this house after being mortally wounded in a duel. It is alleged that his ghost still haunts this house. 

Southend Brewery and Smokehouse / Wagener Building:
Today the Wagener Building is home to the Southend Brewery and Smokehouse restaurant, but back in the early 1800's it was home to offices. The office in the corner of the third floor facing East Bay Street was used by a cotton merchant. This man had borrowed too much money, and he was having debt problems. He finally caught a break and thought he would be able to repay his outstanding bills with a huge cotton shipment. However, the night the cotton was being shipped away, he looked out of his office window and saw smoke rising from his ship in the Charleston Harbor. The ship hauling his cotton had caught fire! He watched his one hope of paying his debts burn up and sink. He didn't know what he could do - the bill collectors were running out of patience. He decided there was only one solution. He pushed all of his office furniture up against the wall to clear up the room, with the exception of a leather chair. He then took bailing wire and tied one end around his neck. He stood up on the leather chair and tossed the other end of the wire over the rafters and tied it there. He then kicked the chair out from under his body, ending his life and smashing the office window. However, this was no normal hanging. Since he used wire instead of rope he didn't suffocate or snap his neck...the wire sliced through his flesh and he was decapitated!   
    Legend has it that the blood stain on the first floor could never be removed. The buildings owners scrubbed it so much over the years that today there is an indentation in the floor. If you look close at the indentation, you may notice small red flecks of dried blood. Also, people dining in that corner of the third floor witness silverware being moved on it's own, and sometimes even chairs are moved.

Poogan's Porch:
Originally built as a spacious and grand victorian home in 1888, the structure and its neighborhood had, by 1976, changed suitably to allow for the conversion of the house into a restaurant.
    This restaurant was named after a faithful dog named Poogan who called the porch his home, sadly this pup died of natural causes in 1979. To this day employees still claim to see the faithful pup layinmg in his favorite spot on the porch waiting for someone to give him a pat on the head or a table scrap.
    Other spirits that are said to roam there are that of an older woman dressed in black, and has not only been seen by customers and employees, but also by people staying at the hotel across the street. And although not everyone has seen her they are convinced that the presence in the home is Zoe St. Armand. 
    The travel Channel voted the restaurant "Third Haunted Place in America" in 2003.

So sorry I couldn't find three more places some of my research is limited.

Salem Massachutsetts:
In 1692, Mass. Became the sight of a series of infamous trials after three local women were accused of using witchcraft to terrorize a trio of young girls. The trials soon escalated into mass hysteria, with townspeople vehemently accusing neighbors and acquaintances, almost all of them unmarried women. Over 150 people were arrested and charged, and as many as 19 were eventually executed by hanging. Today, the town of Salem encourages its reputation as "Witch City, USA" and has one of the biggest Halloween celebrations in the country. Several infamous ghost stories related to the witch trials. One in particular concerns Gallows Hill, the site of several hangings, which is said to be haunted by the spirits of the 19 people lynched for being witches. top ten most haunted places in Salem are.

Joshua Ward House:
 Built in 1784, on the foundation of Sheriff George Corwin's home. Corwin was the high sheriff of Essex county, and had a part in the Salem witch trials of 1692. It was he who tried to force a confession out of the accused Giles Corey while Corey was slowly being crushed to death for refusing to stand trial. Corwin died in 1696 of a heart attack some say he was cursed by Corey before Corey succumed to the brutal way he died. 
      The home is said to be haunted by Sheriff Corwin and Giles Corey amongst others.

The Hawthorne Hotel:
The hotel was named after Nathaniel Hawthorne, and was opened for business on July 23 1925.
    Over the years, there have been many reports of paranormal activity within the hotel and much of it has been attributed to the now deceased captains who participated in the meetings of the Salem Marine Society. 
      Referred to as the “Lower Deck”, an employee of the hotel who was responsible for setting up the room and arranging the tables was quite startled after performing his duties then leaving the room only to return and find this room “rearranged”. It has been reported that this particular employee then refused to work any night shifts after his experience. Many guests of the hotel have also reported strange occurrences particularly in room 325 and suite 612. In room 325 guests have reported the water and lights turning on by themselves, and wandering in the hallway just outside of room 612 there have been reports of an apparition that appears to be a woman.
    It's also thought that the original land beneath the hotel was once an apple orchard that was owned by Bridget Bishop who was the first individual to be hanged at “Gallows Hill” after being convicted of the practice of witchcraft. There have been many reports made that the strong smell of apples are experienced from time to time within the hotel.

 Saint Mary's cemetery:
People report paranormal phenomena while walking up the path heading toward a tall hill from the elevated crypt that belongs to a Veteran of WWII, the Korean War, and Vietnam. Visitors say that while walking along this path, there are evil/negative feelings that emanate from the forest down the hill and to the left. Apparitions have been reported in this area as well as light phenomena at the top of the hill.
Visitors to the Saint Mary's Cemetery report a variety of paranormal phenomena. Disembodied footsteps sometimes described as sounding like those of a dog or medium sized animal. They also report strange light phenomena. Glowing lights appear and then move quickly and disappear. Visitors report a strong feeling of uneasiness and the feeling of being watched at the Saint Mary's Cemetery.

Salem Jail:
The original dungeon in which the accused witches were held was constructed between 1683 and 1684.  The jail was 70 x 280 feet made of hand hewn oak timbers and siding.  The conditions in the prison were horrible.  Prisoners were held in small cells with no bedding.  There were no bars on the cells, but if the prisoners ran away from their punishment they were generally caught and immediately executed.  Prisoners were charged for straw bedding and food, and if they could not afford them they did without.  Water was also withheld from prisoners since the puritans believed they would be able to get more “confessions”  if the prisoners were thirsty.  The salaries of the sheriff, magistrate, and hangman were also paid by the prisoners and they were billed for cuffs and other bonds and even for the torturous acts of searching their bodies of witchery “marks” and getting their heads shaved in the process.  Many died just from the inhumane condition in the dungeon.
    Today, the site of the original dungeon now houses a gothic style prison house which was built in 1813. The house has recently been renovated into 23 condos, a restaurant and a small museum dedicated to the history of the jail.
    The jail is said to be one of the most haunted buildings in Salem. Some say it is haunted by the tortured victims of the witch trials from the past.
    Former sheriff Robert Ellis Cahill claims that every sheriff who has served in this jail has suffered from a heart or blood disease from the time of George Corwin who resided over the salem witch trials to himself and many have died from this condition.

House of the Seven Gables:
The house was built in 1668, for Capt. John Turner II to John Turner III.
   After John Turner III lost the family fortune, the house was acquired by the Ingersolls, who remodeled it again.
    The Ingersoll's were couisn's to Nathaniel Hawthorne who pent much time in the house while growing up.
    In 1908, the house was bought by Caroline O. Emmerton, who restored it as a museum.
    Of course, a looming question centers on the home's reputation for being haunted. Every year, many visitors write (some even enclosing photos) of the spooky sightings see there. They write or tell tales of hearing voices (even though no one else is visible in the room), seeing strange figures which appear and vanish suddenly and other mysterious events.

Old burying point cemetery:
This cemetery is very very old, infact its the second oldest cemetery in the country, it was established in 1637.
    There are some famous people buried there along with the victims of the infamous Salem witch trials. However tombstones were not placed for the victims of the witch trials, but there is a memorial.
    It is also considered to be the most haunted cemetery in Salem.

Once again Sorry I could not find more info on other haunted areas in Salem, but considering the history of this place it shouldnt be that hard to believe that this entire place is loaded with the supernatural.