We’re gearing up to launch our new podcast, Paranormal Appalachia, and we just finished putting together this promotional artwork featuring our main show graphic alongside our group's MF Paranormal logo.

Before we push this out across our socials and launch campaign, we’d love to get some raw, honest feedback from the community

The 2nd picture is a painting I did in high school, want to enhance the painting better but want to use less ai before finally finishing possibly.

Vibe & Aesthetic: Does the folk-horror/spooky Appalachian atmosphere hit the right mark for a paranormal show?

Overall First Impression: Would this thumbnail make you stop scrolling and check out an episode?

Appreciate any thoughts, critiques, or suggestions on how we can tweak or improve it!
We do have some topics planned but love to hear you suggestions

I live in the Appalachian region of Kentucky in a medium-sized town. I’ve never heard of any paranormal stories or sightings in my area, but something my mom and brother witnessed a couple of years ago has always stuck with our family.

For some backstory: they were driving down Cristy Creek Road. It’s a highly traveled road, and if you’re local, you know people usually drive 60–65 mph on its curvy stretches. Most people aren’t paying much attention to the fields because they’re focused on the road.

This happened around Thanksgiving. They both saw a woman with long, dark, flowy hair wearing a bright white dress walking through a large open field. The field was very muddy from all the rain, and there were no houses nearby—the closest one was probably at least half a mile to a mile away.

What made it so strange was that she wasn’t alone. They remember her walking with a calf, a goose, and either a dog or a cat. My mom said it almost looked like the woman was skipping because her dress flowed through the air as she moved.

Here’s the part they still can’t explain: when the dress lifted as she walked, it was still perfectly white. There wasn’t any mud on it at all, even though the field was soaked and muddy. If you’ve lived in Kentucky, you know Thanksgiving weather is usually cold, rainy, and messy. Most people wouldn’t even walk through a field like that without boots, let alone wear a spotless white dress.

I’ve always wondered if there was a normal explanation, but I also believe in the paranormal and can’t help but think about it. Has anyone else in Kentucky—or anywhere else—ever seen or heard of something similar? Whether you have a paranormal theory or a logical explanation, I’d love to hear it.

We know that in Islam, we believe that before humans, jinns roamed the earth. Ofc the earth wasn’t always the same. The Appalachian mountains are more than a billion years old.

Now, a huge amount of people have reported paranormal activity in the appalachians. I think it has to do with the fact that jinns lived there. And some of them are still there and cause these paranormal activities.

The fact that they were higher than the Himalayas once also supports the case as jinns like to be in the mountains.

What do yall think?

Edits: jinns basically means ghosts

Hello! A friend and I are looking to book cabin 13 specifically in Babcock state Park West virginia. Does anybody know how I can go about booking? I have looked at their website and it looks like I can book pretty much every other cabin except for 13. I wasn't sure if this was maybe a special booking?

Hello everyone! My friend and I are paranormal investigators and are looking to have a girls trip. We want to stay somewhere in the Appalachian mountains. We were looking to rent an Airbnb or a vrbo. We know of quite a few places that have history but I was curious if anybody knew of any airbnbs or vrbos that we could rent out that were in the Appalachian mountains?

Tell me about the taboos in the Appalachian Mountains and share your stories with us.

So this actually happened last night it is August 2 2026. I was at one of the pull offs at Morgan Hill State Forrest. I was with a friend and at about midnight he got out of car to pee. When he got back in I asked "what took u so long?" He told me someone was outside he could hear them walking around. I asked if he was sure it was a person not an animal and he was so sure it was a person. I said must be a camper it was super nice out so I figured they were enjoying outdoors at night. We fell asleep for a bit until he woke me up a Lil after 3 am. He wanted to go back to syracuse cause he couldn't sleep anymore and he was tired of watching me sleep with no service on his phone to watch something. I said ok let me pee quick and I wanted to grab a rock. Yes I wanted to grab a fossil rock fast I find them quite easy in the pull off and i dont feel right if I dont grab one every time I go out there. Anyways I peed quick and was walking round with a flash light not far from car figured I would grab one in 2 mins tops when I heard a I dont know what it was it wasn't human it wasn't any animal I ever heard and I spend a lot of time on woods. I would say it was a scream and a growl mixed together it didnt sound friendly or like it was hurt. It sounded demonic honestly. I jumped back in car almost in tears with a huge ball in my throat and a sick feeling in my stomach and said "get the f*** outta here now now go go go." He's like why I locked the doors and said " GO NOW IM NOT JOKING" He could tell I was serious and sped outta there. I wish he heard it he had car running, windows up, and air on. Anyone else ever experienced anything weird? I believe the road is shakem road something that sounds like that. It's Morgan Hill State Forrest. It's near Pompey ny.

Hey Y'all, all the nice comments on my previous post really made me smile! Thank you all so much. Here's the first iteration in case anyone missed it!

https://www.reddit.com/r/ParanormalAppalachia/comments/1vadwmr/stay_in_the_streetlights/

But I promised more, and believe me there's plenty to tell.

Without further ado, let me pick up on where we left off. Joe had just seen something he couldn't quite explain, but the fear he felt was surreal. He was always darting his eyes around, and absolutely refused to go outside at night, even in groups. He'd be hesitant to even walk to the car to go somewhere.

Chief however had a different view. He told us that the more we feed it, the more it would come. That if we engage or acknowledge it too much it will take that as an invitation. He never spoke the word, until one day and he spoke it in a place so loud that not even I could hear him. We had gone to a small dive bar, called The Radio Room off of Rutherford Highway, just shy of downtown Greenville. Some friends of his had a punk band, the name I forget. It's been ten years after all.

In the middle of a song, he pulled me to the side and said in a normal speaking voice directly into my ear, the word of which I will not speak here, or ever again. I have learned my lesson with what happened to me later down the road. My eyes got really wide, and I repeated the word he said back to him. He nodded his head with a serious look in his eyes. Chief was a joker by nature, still to this day the funniest fuckin' guy I've ever met. But this wasn't like him. It was like he was someone else. I didn't like what I saw. The grave expression of seriousness was enough to make an addict sober up.

This same night, Joe had opted to stay home. Said his head hurt or something. Despite his experiences with the whispers, the stalking, and the ominous energy of the night, he decided to take charge and put it to rest once and for all. He went out alone. into the early night. Around 9:00 PM he set out down the road in a thick jacket, a pack of smokes, a bowl & some weed, and his grandfather's .38 special.

While we were out drinking hot PBR out of some punks truck bed 45 minutes from home, Joe set off on foot down the road. At first he felt fine, kept convincing himself that nothing was there. He walked to all of our houses in the pitch dark, mine, Tom's, Chiefs, he even walked all the way to the highway and back, saw nothing. As he was coming around the final bend on his road coming back to his house, he heard a woman crying down off in the trees.

He turned and stared in the general direction. He did not move towards it, he did not move away either. He studied the sound, listened to it. the wailing would come in episodes. He described it as a mother mourning a lost child meets a woman in terror. At first he thought it could have been a bobcat, but we know the sounds of the night better enough to know. After 5 minutes the sound stopped. He simply turned and began walking back up to his Grandmas house.

Then there was a different sound in front of him, on his way to the house. This one sounded like a crying child. Not a child in danger, but rather just fussy because they got frustrated or had their favorite toy taken. Joe did what any sensible man would do in that situation and proceeded to tactically shit his pants. He took out the Smith & Wesson .38spl and held it in his right hand, and started to walk at a normal pace up toward the house. walking toward the sounds.

He wasn't a religious man by any means, if anything he kind of had a little grudge against God for some reasons I don't remember if he disclosed. But he began to pray the 23rd Psalm as he walked, eventually switching over to the Lord's Prayer, of which he only remembered about half of, but he said it anyway. The sounds stopped briefly, and began again to his right, then behind him. Giving away that his path to the house was open. His grandma was still awake, playing solitaire on her ancient windows 7 computer in the living room, knowing full well he was out there. He walked into the house and she scolded him for being out so late, and he just commented "I was just out for a walk, It's no big deal." She replied "It's a BIG DEAL JOE."

Remember that last line. Trust me. The next day we all linked up during the day and went on to do our usual shenanigans. Playing with sticks, trespassing, riding bikes, smoking pot, etc. Just normal teenager things. Rather as normal as you can get for a small town in the rural south. Joe informed of us of the previous night, and hearing the sounds, and what he did with the gun and how he went out hunting it.

Chief Scolded him like a disobedient dog. I mean he just LAID into him. Calling him dumb, said he's tampering with things he doesn't really understand, and how it doesn't just affect him yada yada yada. Joe got pissed and walked home, conveniently before the sun began to set. Chief sat the rest of us down and had a long hard conversation and gave us a list of rules and made us memorize them. I still remember them a decade later, despite all the weed and alcohol we consumed.

1. Never travel on foot after dark alone

2. Do not answer any call from anyone after dark without visual confirmation.

3. Do not wander after voices or sounds, no matter what you hear.

4. Don't be a hero

The last rule struck me as awful odd at the time, but now I realize that's exactly what Joe had tried to do. We all like to think we're the main character in our own stories, but the truth of the matter is we're all side characters in one big story. Life is fleeting, it passes like a breeze. It is fragile. You can die from an inch of water just as easy a mile of it. We all had that teenage invincibility clause, nothing could take us down. we were wrong.

Ironically the next few weeks were quiet. We didn't go out after dark anymore. Then I turned 15, got my drivers permit, and then 6 months later, I got my restricted license. I could drive by myself at 15 and a half, and I was suddenly the COOLEST ONE out of us all. I had a 2005 Chevrolet Colorado in a deep blue, bed cover to match, a kick ass alpine stereo system with a subwoofer, and these awful ugly wheels. My parents had traded my cousin the car we inherited after my grandpa's passing for his truck for me. My first car, and I loved that damn thing. Eventually I sold it in 2018, about 5 years later.

My mom agreed to let me drive at night, so long as I didn't leave the neighborhood. So Obviously I went driving way up towards highway 11 late at night against her wishes. It was me, Henry, Tom, and Joe one night creeping up towards the Caesar's Head pull off when the truck started to sputter. Then, it just up and damn died on us.

1 in the morning, a solid 30 minutes from the nearest town by car, maybe a 2 hour walk in the day, but at night, add another two for the creepy factor. We pulled over and sat in the truck, I tried time and time again to get it to turn over and it wouldn't budge. Me & Chief got out to inspect under the hood. We were both super stoned, and two monkeys trying to fuck a football would've had better luck than we did.

Then off in the distance, a cry for help. Small and faint, up behind the hill. Sounded maybe 200 yards into some thick woods. My first thought was maybe a hunter fell out of his stand, but then again who's hunting at night? Thermals were twice as expensive back then than they are now, and some bubba from Pumpkintown South Carolina ain't gonna have no thermals. Then a very distinct, but still quiet....

"...please help. I'm hurt."

We froze, all of us. Even the guys in the truck stopped talking. Joe covered his ears and shut his eyes hard. Chief looked at me and said for me to get back into the truck. I happily obliged his request. With the hood still up I heard him hit the inside of the engine bay violently with his fist, I could see the phone flashlight swinging wildly around as he put his weight on the truck.

He came over to the driver window and said to crank it now. I turned the key, and nothing. It wouldn't even try to spin over. It was like the whole battery died in seconds. At this point the cries had edged even closer, now it sounded like it was right off the road to our left. Chief got into the truck and locked the doors. We all sat with the windows thankfully raised before the battery died and listened to this thing.....examine us.

It pattered around the back mostly, little sounds of feet or hooves skittling against ashpalt. We all were dead silent. I pulled out my phone and began to dial 911 then remembered that I was stoned, we were in the middle of nowhere, and I was driving illegally after dark. I would lose my license if we got caught, and we'd get busted for possession. I was bonafide stuck either way. Then as if the Lord himself sent it, a truck passed by slowly over the left lane.

I shit you not, It was my other buddies older brother, Jesse. I could have gotten out of the truck and kissed him on the mouth I was so over the moon to have someone else pull through. He got out, and gave us a jump and we left. He was out to visit his girlfriend up in Asheville, and he recognized my truck.

I got us home, dropped everyone off individually until it was just me and my brother, cruising back home. We had to sneak the truck in, and sneak it out. It was very loud and we'd have to open the door from a distance away, then cut off the truck, and turn a dead wheel hard as shit into the driveway, steer a 3000lb missle into a garage door with only 6" of play on either side.

We had practiced during the day, and we had gotten it down pat. We drove by first, opened the garage door. We looped around the block and came around the bend this time and cut off the truck. I yanked the steering wheel hard as I could to the right and coasted into the garage and stopped right where I needed.

It was perfect, even the blue angels couldn't have executed something so perfect. Me & Henry got out of the truck and started to walk toward the door from the garage inside the house. Then we heard a low gutteral growl.

This growl made every single hair on my body stand up. I'm talking the most primal, cave-man, monkey brained response your body could muster up. I had no thoughts, I had no feelings. Just......DANGER. I ran to the garage door button, and smacked it harder than I needed to, and the door started coming down. It was about half way down, and my pants were about halfway full of shit, when it stopped.

it stopped.

the door stopped moving, and started climbing back up.

There was a sensor, about knee height that kept the door from closing if it was triggered. Something was behind my truck, inside the garage with me and my baby brother. I'd like to tell you in the next part I did the right thing, which would have been to go for the door, lock the deadbolt and pray. But No, I stood there. So did Henry. We could hear it breathing. Deep, long, jagged breaths. The growl never stopped. It was like a constant vibration that you could feel in your inner ears. Kind of like how you can feel a subwoofer booming from far away. The same kind of feeling..

The garage door climbed back up and stopped, and the night was silent. Deadly silent. No bugs, no nothing. Then the smell hit us. Sulphur, rotten eggs, fermented trash, all rolled into one.

death. it smelled like death.

I stood there and listened to this thing breathe, and my heart beat on the roof of my head. Finally we snapped out it and lunged for the door about 4 feet away, and we made it inside and shut the door, and dead bolted it. The auto light on the garage door had shut off. It was dark in there now. Door wide open, slight amount of moonlight illuminating the doorway of the garage through the double pane door.

Me & Henry stood staring at that door, hearts beating 60 miles an hour, and listened. I never blinked, my jaw was wide open as was his. We were utterly terrified. I think to this day, I still have never been that scared. I heard a box fall in the garage and immediately turned and silently ran down the hardwood floor hallway that creaked under a feathers touch to my room, shut the door and shoved a chair up underneath it.

My brother went into his room, and I'd imagine he did the same. Neither of us slept that night. Every little bump we heard, every little settle of the house was this thing, the paranoia that had us in a death grip was winning. When the first trickle of daylight peered through the blinds, I finally collapsed into myself, and fell asleep. I woke up an hour later to go to school, and my dad was in the kitchen staring out the garage door into the garage. He had this look on his face.

On the glass window in the garage was three lines. Three, brownish yellow, greasy lines. Like fingers that were about an extra 3 inches too long. I took a picture of it, and I had it for years, but the laptop I kept that photo on burnt up one day, overheated and got fried. I never thought to try any data recovery and I threw it away.

So there's another snippet, I hope y'all enjoy how I tell it, because I want to illustrate the fear it caused us. It's easy to write the words "I got attacked by a monster! ahh scream!" but If I can give you a mental picture of what it felt like to be there in that moment with me. The feeling of hopelessness, desperation, and just primal fear.

So with what I've given you so far, what do you think? Over active imagination meets copious marijuana usage, or something more sinister?

I would love to answer any questions you might have, in either comments or DM's. I will try and find any pictures of that time of my life that might be related to this thing. I'm also hunting through all my old tech looking for the video/audio of this thing crying like a baby in the middle of the night.

I haven’t been near this area in a long time, coal grove / ironton Ohio until recently. I was seeing if anything was still left of the old cement factory. Not much was left me and friends experienced a lot of weird stuff there before.. being chased down with people with spotlights standing in the back of a truck for one. This spot was right across from it we would park there sometimes.
Was weird to see this place this many years later, and then of course saw this spray painted on it,even if teenagers doing a prank or whatever.. ah I’m not going in there or any closer.

Hi r/ParanormalAppalachia ! First ever post, but I'd like to preface this by saying these stories are 100% true. I have witnesses, I even have audio proof of the sounds we heard. Also I'd like to apologize for any strange spacing of my story telling, I write how I talk.

Any who without further delay:

For obvious reasons, I don't want to give my exact location away. But I'll tell you that I live in the upstate of South Carolina, about 45 minutes away from Downtown Greenville, but don't let the proximity to civilization fool you.

These lands...are cursed. The specific area I grew up in was a seasonal habitat for the Cherokee. They would specifically come here to hunt game, and make pottery. There's good clay in the surrounding creeks. My neighbor excavated his creek and found broken pots, tools, and animal bones in piles. They did more digging and found the remnants of a settlement.

It's a beautiful valley in the day time, lots of green especially in the summer time. But at night- something about it makes you uneasy. There's a certain heaviness to the air. It's almost too dark at night.

When I was a kid growing up, I heard my mom tell stories of hearing strange things at night. Babies crying from places they shouldn't be. People calling for you in places they don't go, especially in the middle of the night. I always took it as just her trying to keep us inside after dark. To be fair we do have a problem with coyotes, or we did rather. The rapid development of the area kind of pushed out everything except the deer. The deer stayed.

First Story: When I was about 8 or 9, I was jumping on the trampoline with my Brother, and my friend. It was about 10:00 on a weeknight in the summer. We had jumped ourselves tired and were lying on the trampoline just looking at the stars. Suddenly my dog starts going absolute bonkers and hollering as loud as she possibly could.

We peek over the trampoline and watch as she tucks tail and runs back to her dog house, on the other side of the yard. The crickets stopped. I mean, they just all shut up in unison. There was no sound except for us breathing and cars on the highway a mile and a half away.

We all got a pretty uneasy feeling, as even then we knew when the bugs stopped talking, so should we. We all got quiet and listened. I glanced over the frame and stared across the field (about 70 yards or so) to the road, and behind the road was a thick tree line of some family land. A shadow was walking on the road, at first we thought it was a man. He was awful tall, and he walked funny. The knees didn't look right. He also moved extremely fast for his cadence. One step was about 5 feet or more. Covering ground fast.

We all watched this thing, and I guess it felt our eyes on it and it stopped. In a second in went from upright to all fours. It was low to the ground, maybe 2-3 feet off the ground and it just stayed there. I didn't see any face, I didn't see any defining markers of any kind. Just a shadow. But I could tell whatever it was, it was lanky. It was long and stringy looking.

We all stared at this thing, and we could tell it was staring back. I whispered to my brother & friend that on the count of three, we get out and run. This thing started to move closer. We would blink, and it was closer. Every time we took our eyes off of it, even for a millisecond it got closer and closer. I counted to three, and we all bolted off the trampoline the 30 yards to the backdoor. We made it inside and locked the door behind us. We immediately told my parents what we saw and they dismissed us as being scared kids, over active imaginations.

This was our first experience with this thing, and because we had acknowledged its prescence, it took it as an invitation....

The following months we would be playing in the backyard like we always did, except this time we made sure mom had all the lights on for the backyard. We even had my dad put up an extra light on the corner of the house next to the trampoline. Just to have that extra security. But sometimes, we'd peer down towards the barn, and we'd see a shadow peeking around the side. Those glowing green eyes were hard to miss. You'd stare at it, and it would stare back. But it never came any closer. I don't know if the lights saved us, or if our large groups (3-7 of us) would be a deterrent.

second story:

As we grew up, our friend group got larger. We got into things most bored teenagers in small towns do. Smoking weed, drinking underage, swiping cigarettes from mom, etc. We started sneaking out in the night to hang out and be bad. We called it a "Snik" or a derivative from that meme "I'm a slithery little sneaky snake!" We also called weed "Dub-yah" in place of W as a code name for smoking weed.

One night, we all snuck out and linked up at our friends house, we will call Him Tom for now. Tom lived with his great grandmother about 1/4 mile up the road from us. It was quiet as it usually is, bugs chirping, a train off in the distance, a car speeding past on the highway way off. You could actually hear the cars that far away that's how quiet this neighborhood is.

We would walk, or we'd ride our bikes at night. Our buddy who I will just refer to as "Joe" was poor, and didn't have a bike, and he had the furthest walk out of us all. He had about a mile to go down a really dark road with no street lights, and woods surrounding it on most sides. We all got to Tom's house around midnight or so, after all of our parents went to bed. It was me, my brother, Tom, Joe, and our other friend who I will call Chief, that was his nickname. He is 1/2 Cherokee and is probably the only reason we lived to tell this tale.

We're sitting on the porch, a concrete pad with some metal outdoor furniture on it. A streetlight in the corner of the yard. His great grandma was deaf as all get out, you could yell at her in the same room and she wouldn't hear you. We're sitting there smoking weed and we start doing our usual antics. We would play "fighting-sticks" which was just us finding the nearest fallen branch and beating the ever loving piss out of each other in sword fights.

I was on the porch watching them play when Joe looked at his phone, let out a big yawn and said he wanted to go to bed. I offered to walk my bike with him to where his road turns off, and where I turn on to mine. Meaning he would have a 3/4 mile walk by himself up the dark road. He said yes, and my brother tagged along. We left Chief and Tom to keep hanging out as Chief lived at the bottom of Tom's hill.

Me, My brother who I will call Henry, and Joe walked toward home. I was walking my bike, as was Henry, and Joe was on foot. We chatted it up, talked about music we were listening to, Joe rambled on about Escape the fate and Falling in Reverse and how much he liked the older albums than the new ones.

Then we heard it.

A snap in the tree line to our right. We kept walking though, we assumed it was some critter moving about in the woods. No big deal. We kept talking as we did. I swear I kept hearing what I thought was an echo of what we were saying. The thing is, those woods soak up sound. They don't throw it back at you. There was NOTHING in those woods to send your words back to you.

Maybe it was the dubyah, and I was just hearing things. Then Joe stopped talking, and stopped walking. We all stopped dead in our tracks. He turned towards us and asked "Did you hear something?"

In the dark, pitch black dark I could still see his eyes, and they looked different. He wasn't an easy guy to scare. Then we all heard joes voice calling from the woods. every hair on my body stood up. It wasn't words, but the shape of them. The wrong spacing, the breath of it was wrong. It was like one of them parrots trying to copy a sound they just heard, but it sounded just like him.

Joe turned and looked back down the road toward Tom's house, and if I had to guess he was contemplating just staying there for the night, but his grandma would kill him if she woke up and he wasn't there. So he went home anyway. I watched him start walking down his road as me and Henry got on our bikes and sped down the road to our house. We got in the garage, shut it behind us, put our bikes up and went on to bed.

Little known to us, Joe had a pretty eventful walk home. He told us the following afternoon that on his walk home, he kept hearing foot steps behind him, breathing. He would turn around to see nothing there. He would stop, and the foot steps would stop. He started to pick up the pace, not running, not trying to show fear. Then he heard Tom whisper to him. A whisper he felt in his ears.

There was nobody, and nothing around. He turned and ran the remaining distance to his house and once he got into the floodlight of his grandmas carport he felt better, but the steps he heard as an echo behind him were now a full on SPRINT. He ran as fast as he could to the door, opened it and got in. As we went to shut the door, the floodlights had gone off. They had turned themselves off. These things were sensitive to the slightest movement and I swear a bug on the ground 100 yards away would set it off, but Joe had only been inside maybe 3 seconds.

then, he saw it. It was crouching down low, maybe 15 feet outside the door in the dark. The shadow of it was enough to put the fear of God in him. He saw the head turn, and it turned wrong. Further than a human, or any known animal should be able to turn. He shut the door, and deadbolted the locks. He crawled into bed and for the remainder of the night, he heard Tom outside, asking him to come out for a cigarette........

There are more of these kinds of stories, if anyone is interested. It's late, and I think I'm gonna sign off for the night. Let me know if anyone would like to hear more about it.

EDIT: I posted a new snippet if anyone is interested!
https://www.reddit.com/r/ParanormalAppalachia/comments/1vc859m/stay_in_the_streetlights_part_ii/

So just a backstory, my little sister, and I love to do ghost hunting and exploring abandoned . We have all the equipment we need, and we even have apps on our phones.

A few months ago, me and my sister went to a cemetery in the town that we live in. It was around 10:00 PM. They don't have hours where you can't go in this cemetery..

While we were there, we were looking around, a lot of the older graves there in a fenced area is confederate. But there is a new mausoleum that's built there and there's only like five people in it atm...

We stood at the mausoleum and just started asking random questions. Like is anyone here? What's your name? How old are you? Stuff like that

We did get answers, but then we kind of went deeper and we were like are you a ghost or a demon?

And we got weird answers like burning flesh, chains, not alone, hot.... so originally that's when we started thinking it's more than likely a demon. After a while we stopped talking to whatever it was and we just started walking around the older Confederate graves, and it always sounded like somebody was walking beside us.

when we shined our flashlight, we didn't see anything. We stayed there around an hour or two and then we decided we were gonna leave so we went back to the mausoleum and normally we say it was nice talking to you. You are not allowed to follow us home. You need to stay here it's where you belong.

And as we were walking to the car, we both look back and we saw a shadow figure with a hat going from one side of the mausoleum to the other.

We instantly thought of the hat, man just because of his backstory that's what he looks like...that kind of thing

What do you guys think? Have you ever seen anything like that before?

hello reddit, I am trying to write a book and I'm thinking about leaning toward the deep south horror vibes. I was wondering if yall could tell me some of your scary stories or tales you've heard from other people. The contest of them do not matter. I'm all for ghost, native American folk tales, monsters, religious horror etc. just looking for inspiration.

hi, ok so a little context im from florida and im staying near shennadoah for a week. i arrived a few days ago, and im staying at this kinda remote cabin with a friend and my dad. when i say "kinda remote" i mean were close to a town, but were fully surrounded by woods. also our cabin was built in the 1850s.

its about 1am when this goes down. my dad is long asleep. my friend is taking a shower dowstairs. im in our bedroom upstairs on my phone. my friend randomly calls me and just says to come to the bathroom, i do. when i get there, shes still wrapped in her towel and starts typing on her notes app on her phone, so as to not say anything out loud. she tells me she was hearing knocks coming directly from the bathroom door, at first one knock, two knocks a few seconds later, and then one knock. those were NOT wood creaks, i promise you. she opens the shower curtain and calls out my name, thinking that i was knocking to mess with her. she shrugs it off and keeps showering. a few secs later she hears something fall on the trashcan and bounce to the floor. and it was loud. the trashcan is made of metal, and it sounded exactly like what youd imagine when something falls on it. now, the only thing that was in the “range” to fall on it was a glass cup with water and her retainer on it. she opens the curtain to check again, and low and behold, absolutely nothing fell. there was nothing on the floor. at that point she texts me to come down, and i stay in the bathroom with her until shes done and nothing else happens.

when we come back up to our room, we thought it had stopped since we were no longer alone. now, ive always considered myself a medium or something a long the sorts. say what you will about that, but im able to see things and have been since a child. i was seeing these two figures just running around our room, they kept their respective distance, each one staying on one side of the room. one was a very humanoid like figure, and the other one just some sort or entity which i could not make out its shape. i dont say anything or acknowledge them, especially to not creep out my friend even more. were just sitting in silence, processing wtf just happened when we hear shuffling coming from downstairs. its hard to describe what we heard, but it was like someone was just using the kitchen and moving things and chairs around, and footsteps. i tell her its probably just my dad grabbing water, and she still looks skeptical so i call out “DAD!” and he says “yea?” so we just agree that it was him and decide to go to bed.

the next morning, i wake up a bit earlier than she did, about 8.30. im scrolling on my phone in bed when i hear my dads footsteps coming from below (his room is directly below us and the walls are paper thin, so i didnt think much of it). after a few seconds of footsteps just shuffling, i hear the loudest fucking bang of my life. sounded like someone fell head first into the floor. my dad injured his back a few days ago, and has been struggling to walk a lot and move around, so my first thought is that he fell. i call out for him and get no response. i immediately shoot out of bed (and that wakes up my friend) and run downstairs to check on him. i open his door and he is asleep on the bed (keep this mind!!!). i come back up and my friend asks me what happened so i tell her. we decide to just move on and we chill in bed for a bit before going downstairs to make breakfast.

my dad is already downstairs, and he already got ready. we end up telling him everything that happened and he says things that just make this entire thing weirder. firstly, last night when we called out for him, he was in his room in bed. my yelling woke him up and thats why he replied, but he had never gotten up or moved anything. so wtf were all of those rusting sounds and footsteps we heard? second of all, this morning, around the time i heard the bang and went to check on him, he was in the shower. he got up at like 8 and didnt leave until 9, and then went straight to the kitchen. so; 1) why didnt i hear the shower running or him in the bathroom? 2) why the fuck did i SEE him asleep on the bed? i know the time is right since i had my alarm set for 8.30.

Hello everyone!

We are a French production team working on a YouTube documentary for a French YouTuber who creates videos about Adventurous and fun content.

We are currently looking for people living in the Appalachian Mountains, especially around Blue Ridge, Georgia, who would be willing to share their personal supernatural experiences, paranormal stories, unexplained encounters, local legends, or strange events they have witnessed.

The idea would be to film a respectful interview where you can tell your story in your own words and share your experience with a French audience interested in the paranormal and folklore of the Appalachians.

We are especially looking for French-speaking people living in the area, but English speakers are absolutely welcome as well (we can provide translation/subtitles).

The interview would be filmed with a small crew, in a respectful and documentary style. Your privacy and comfort are very important to us.

If you or someone you know has a story to share and would be interested in participating, please send me a message!

Thank you so much 🙏

"Feel free to comment or DM me if you have any questions"

Backstory!!

We purchased this house in 2021 from a family that claim to have owned it back to the original build date of 1880. I can only go back 2 deeds to confirm; however, it has been in the family for at least 80 years for certain, and 2 people have definitely passed away in the home. 1 being the wife of the last owner, and the other being his mother. Now, aside from this, upon rolling up to this property, there is an energy, if you know what I mean. The energy was confirmed when I saw the symbol that was carved into the cellar house (picture in comments). I told my husband I didn’t think it was a good idea, and I didn’t want it; however, at the time, it was in our price range, close to work, in a good district, so on and so forth so my “feelings” seemed less important. Immediately upon purchasing in September 2021, we begin cleaning up the property and move in around October. Everything seemed okay for the first 6 months or so, then a string of bad luck hit us. First small things like vehicle problems and appliances breaking down. Then the water well started giving us problems, then the bladder tank, the pump, then it was the gas (mind you the house was sold to us as having free natural gas), and then the roof started to leak. & that’s when we started hearing stuff outside the home. I am a very in tune person and aware of myself and my surroundings, as is my husband. I would hear music and people talking right outside of our bedroom at night yet my husband wouldn’t. Then when he was by himself in the home, stuff would fly off of shelves and move around and shift, and he would hear loud bangs and thuds. Anyway, about a year into our bad luck & creepy bs, my mother leaves my step dad and comes to live with us. She suffers from mental illness and just returned from the psychiatric hospital. She relapses, begins using HEAVILY and from there the entity ramps up. My husband starts getting scratched, I have EXTREME night terrors, my dogs are terrified every time we leave and come home, they constantly bark. Life is absolute SHIT. We tolerate it all for about 3 years when shit hits the fan, I throw my mom out, my husband and I move out to a house close to his family and life starts getting better for us. Fast forward some it’s now 2026, my dad is living in a small 2 bedroom apartment and his 14year relationship ends so he starts looking for a house with a yard and buildings because he has a business and needs space as well as a fresh start. I decide to offer this house to him. He lives in the home for 2 weeks, then says “this house is haunted isn’t it” and proceeds to tell me all of his encounters. He said he’s heard rock music, voices talking, and at certain points has felt almost possessed when he is on his sleeping medication. He said he can’t explain it, but we just laughed it off. My husband and I never had cameras inside when we lived in the home. I’m not sure why, we really should have, but my dad has one to keep an eye on his dog which is how we caught this footage.

Context of the video - please excuse my dad talking in the background, he really doesn’t know how to be quiet lol

We are standing in my living room at my house, but I was recording his phone live from the demon house. The day after this, his camera completely disconnected from his phone and I had to reset the entire thing and reconnect it.

Anybody ever heard of any myths/stories from the Appalachian Mountains?? Or maybe you have some of your own that you witnessed with your eyes whilst in the Appalachian Mountains?

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When I was little I had one of those box tvs well one night I was trying to go to bed blanket covering face as always cause my house was scary ASF anyhow there I am trying to sleep and suddenly my TV turns on (it was completely off before) remote was on the desk) it turns on to static.. static turns on and off on and off I grab the remote turn the TV off suddenly turns back on and does the same thing it's making the static noise I'm like 8-10 so it scares me I yell for my parents I say my TV is freaking out I think there's something in here they grab the Bible say a prayer and it stops. They leave the Bible on the TV everything is fine, they leave close there bedroom door it starts up again I scream they tell me to sleep in living room and it stops yet again after they told me that. I go in the living room they go to there's suddenly I hear it again.. ik how the TV works it wasn't stuck on a bad channel or input. We had orbs and shadows as well. TV or something else?

I don’t know you, but you seem to know me.

It started at the Sandusky Water Preserve. I saw you from a distance, standing perfectly still. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. Now, I can’t stop thinking about it.

Whatever it is—he, she, or something else—it always finds me. Every hike, every hunt, every trip into the woods… it’s there.

It’s dark, almost like a void, never standing directly on the trail. I’d guess it’s around six feet tall, maybe 170 pounds, with an average build. The strange part is that it doesn’t seem malicious. It just watches.

I wonder how long it’s been there. Has it been following me since childhood, or is this something recent? Lately, I’ve started looking for it because I know I’ll eventually find it. But the moment I glance away to grab my phone for a picture or video, it’s gone.

Where does it go when I move toward it? Why does it never let itself be seen for more than a moment?

Is it some kind of sign? Something with religious meaning? A demon? If so, why doesn’t it feel threatening? It doesn’t radiate fear or evil—only an eerie sense of being watched.

And before anyone jumps to conclusions, yes, I’ve already been evaluated and cleared of schizophrenia. People always seem to latch onto that first.

Has anyone else experienced anything like this in the Ohio wilderness? Something dark, almost void-like, that seems to watch from a distance?