Hey, it's Michelle, and this week's four calls each involve something quietly, patiently making itself known. Stringy black hair hanging over a bathroom sink in an old Kentucky studio. A kind old taxidermist whose parents watched him work for years after they'd died. A black mist that dropped under a middle schooler's bed like a sheet. And Lizzie Borden herself, summoned every October and still refusing to give a straight answer.

Lacey from Whitesburg, Kentucky calls in with a true ghost story from her time renting a studio space in a renovated artisan center. Working alone on weekends in a building with motion-activated lights, she began hearing things overhead like a bag of bricks dropping, then whispering with no one around to have said it. On her final visit, she looked down a hallway and saw a woman's dark, stringy hair hanging over the bathroom sink, positioned exactly the way someone tilts their head forward to wring it out. She left immediately and only went back the next day when other people were working there.

Gary D. from Ontario, Canada returns with what might be his most quietly devastating story yet. As a kid walking home from school, he used to sneak behind a friendly taxidermist's house to watch him work through the back window. For over a dozen visits, he noticed an older couple always sitting nearby, leaning forward, watching intently, clearly proud. Months later, the house went up for sale, and the workshop sat empty. A neighbor told Gary the taxidermist had moved. When Gary asked about his parents, the neighbor told him they'd died fifteen years earlier in an accident. He'd been living there alone the entire time.

Larissa from Texas calls in about something that happened when she was in middle school, lying awake around 2 or 3 AM with the feeling of being watched. A dark mist appeared in her peripheral vision, turned sharply toward her the instant she looked at it, and dropped under her bed like a black bedsheet being pulled off furniture. Her bed physically shook. Nobody else in the house heard her screaming. She says this isn't an isolated incident; her family has experienced spirits for two to three decades, going back to before she was born.

And Cindy Ketcher from Avon, Indiana closes the episode with her annual October tradition, pulling out the Ouija board to interrogate the spirit of Lizzie Borden about the 1892 axe murders of her parents. Recently, Lizzie declined coffee, laughed hysterically, insisted on her innocence, then threw an actual kitchen knife at Cindy and missed. Some years she confesses. Some years she doesn't. She always tells Cindy to figure it out herself.

Four real callers. Four true ghost stories.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show.

And if this episode moved you, leave a comment on Spotify. I read every single one, and your comments help new listeners find the show.

Support us with official merch at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠newmanmedia.shop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, catch us on YouTube at⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @tellmeaghoststory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, and follow along on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tellmeaghoststorypodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Theme music is Sexy Sax by Cool Cascade.

Production by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Newman Media⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Hey, it’s Michelle, and tonight’s show is about what visits you when the lights go out. Eight real callers share sleep paralysis encounters, shadow figures, and visitors that arrived with a witness, a mark, or an open door, along with the folklore and science behind them. The first half is stories sleep paralysis explains well. The second half is where I’m not sure it can. Now available as a video on Spotify and YouTube.

Nellie from Clinton, Illinois, calls in with a true ghost story from when she was eighteen, asleep on her stomach on a weekend morning, when something heavy climbed on top of her. A dark shape. A growl that sounded like a laugh. Her grandmother had warned her about exactly this. In Mexican culture, it’s called se te subió el muerto: the dead got on top of you.

Yamari from Pennsylvania woke to three black figures standing around her bed, all focused on her, while she couldn’t move or scream. She calls it a sleep paralysis dream. What she can’t explain is the bedroom door. She remembers shutting it before bed, and when she woke up, it was open.

Dave from Kansas City has had sleep paralysis since he was a kid, so he knew what was happening. Then he thought he woke up, heard three loud bangs, and found two figures made of TV static attacking him in his living room. He chanted Jesus help me until they stopped. That morning there were four police cars outside, and his front door had been unlocked all night.

Yvonne from the Philippines wasn’t asleep. In the afternoon, at her aunt’s house, she looked back down the stairs and saw a black silhouette in the shape of a person that began running up after her. The next day her aunt confirmed she’d seen it too, and she had one rule. Never acknowledge it.

Dave from Sioux Falls remembers dying of spinal meningitis in a hospital at about a year old, and a woman standing over him. He grew up in a Connecticut house that was just not right, with a babysitter no one else in his family ever saw. He says she still watches him sleep, and he sleeps with the light on.

Hector from New Mexico has been scratched for ten years with no explanation, usually three long marks. One night a nightmare of a laughing figure woke him at 3:33 AM. The next night a loud bang woke him at 3:33 again, and his bedroom door, which he always kept shut, was open.

Rachel from Myrtle Beach says something has been attached to her since she was four. After her first sleep paralysis episode, three long scratches appeared on her makeup vanity. When she described it to her mother, her mother said the wall behind her was turning black. She still won’t repeat what something whispered in her ear three weeks before she called.

Tyler from Texas closes the episode with the longest story. After a car crashed into his Oak Cliff apartment building, he spent weeks alone in the only livable unit, waking with something crushing his chest. A priest was on the way. Then a new neighbor walked out the front door, and everything stopped.

Along the way, I get into where the word nightmare comes from, how shadow people came out of a radio show, what your brain does between awake and asleep, and what medieval Europe blamed for the weight on your chest.

Eight real callers. Eight true ghost stories. The Hat Man gets his own episode on Halloween.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show.

And if this episode moved you, leave a comment on Spotify. I read every single one, and your comments help new listeners find the show.

Catch us on YouTube at⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @tellmeaghoststory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, and follow along on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tellmeaghoststorypodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Theme music is Sexy Sax by Cool Cascade.

Production by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Newman Media⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Hey, it’s Michelle, and this week we’re checking in for this Halloween season. A collection of seven haunted hotel stays, from a hospital-turned-hotel on a mining hill in Arizona to a ship docked in Long Beach to a Best Western in Fresno, plus a look at why hotels end up so haunted in the first place. Now available as a video on Spotify & YouTube.

Heather from Mesa, Arizona, stayed at the Grand Hotel in Jerome, which started life in 1926 as the United Verde Hospital, built to treat sick and injured copper miners. In her room, a voice told her to turn down a TV that nobody had on.

Maggi from Washington went to Port Townsend for a birthday getaway and stayed at the Palace Hotel, a former brothel that operated from 1925 to 1933. She and her husband heard footsteps echoing from the ceiling above their room, then realized they were alone on the top floor with no guests above them.

Christie from Los Angeles stayed at the Mount Washington Hotel in New Hampshire, where the owner’s widow, Carolyn Stickney, is said to haunt Room 314. In broad daylight, Christie saw a smear-like apparition, and psychic Chip Coffee saw it too.

Jules from Santa Barbara works at the Mar Monte Hotel, a Spanish Colonial Revival building from 1931. After a guest posted a TikTok with a photo of something standing at the foot of her bed, Jules and the director of rooms checked the vacant room and found a deep indent on a bed that housekeeping always leaves perfectly flat. They both felt something sitting there, and they ran.

Ashley from Salt Lake City toured the Queen Mary when she was eleven. Her aunt felt a small hand grab her knee in an empty elevator, and a photo of the pool showed a little girl in a blue gown. When Ashley’s mother started writing a book about it, the haunting followed the manuscript, and it stopped the second she typed the last paragraph.

An anonymous caller takes us on the road with her up the highway. That's already an eerie setting, but then add a visitor in your room that may or may not be a dream.

Noah takes us on a night out in Las Vegas. That ends with him being watched by a gray father and son in turn-of-the-century clothing.

I share my own ghost story, a night in a Best Western in Fresno, California, on what was supposed to be an ordinary road trip, when I woke up to find a man hovering over me. Then he was gone.

Artemis checked into a New York City hotel looking for a break and found poltergeist activity instead.

In between, I get into why hotels are so haunted, from what your brain does on the first night in a new room to the Colorado hotel that inspired The Shining.

Six real callers. Seven true ghost stories.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show.

And if this episode moved you, leave a comment on Spotify. I read every single one, and your comments help new listeners find the show.

Support us with official merch at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠newmanmedia.shop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, catch us on YouTube at⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @tellmeaghoststory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, and follow along on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tellmeaghoststorypodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Theme music is Sexy Sax by Cool Cascade.

Production by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Newman Media⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Hey, it's Michelle, and this week's five calls include a recurring visitor only dying patients could see, glasses moving in an empty kitchen at 1 am, a friend's goodbye delivered through a dream before anyone knew she was gone, a doppelganger encounter one caller still calls a possible glitch in the matrix, and a haunted mansion with a buried, disturbing history. Now available on Spotify or YouTube as a video!

(This episode was formerly known as Real Ghost Stories For Gardening.)

Tyler from Ohio, a former ICU night-shift nurse, calls in about a patient who calmly described a tall man in a black suit sitting in the corner of her room, someone she said had been with her all day, unrelated to her, silent the entire time. She passed away roughly a day later. Tyler says this pattern repeated throughout his career, dying patients describing visits from family members he'd later learn had already passed.

Nellie from Clinton, Illinois returns with a second story from the same house, waking at 1 am to find the kitchen light on and the sound of glasses moving, despite both her parents' and brother's doors being closed and no one else awake in the house.

Maggie calls in about a vivid dream from over fifteen years ago, one where her friend Liz appeared radiant and at peace in a coffee shop, wearing a black coat covered in red roses, hugging her tightly before vanishing when Maggie turned away for a moment. Days later, Maggie learned Liz had died in a car accident in Panama the same night as the dream, and later discovered Liz's previously unknown middle name was Rose.

Yvonne from the Philippines returns with an early childhood memory from around 2002, watching her mother's exact double, same clothes, same voice, same conversation with her father, walk from the parents' room toward hers and then vanish entirely the moment the lights came on. Minutes later, her real mother called to say she and Yvonne's father were still out running errands and had been the whole time.

And Liz from Brooklyn closes the episode with a story from a photography assignment at a historic hotel with a disturbing past involving adopted children. She and her friend both felt an immediate, oppressive presence in one particular room, later confirmed independently by a medium on speakerphone who described a dark male spirit in that exact corner, along with two protective female spirits and several buried children on the property. The pair located an unexpected grove of lilies the next day, laid flowers, and spoke words for the dead, all while narrating a full skincare routine out loud to keep themselves calm.

Five real callers. Five true ghost stories.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show.

And if this episode moved you, leave a comment on Spotify. I read every single one, and your comments help new listeners find the show.

Support us with official merch at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠newmanmedia.shop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, catch us on YouTube at⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @tellmeaghoststory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, and follow along on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tellmeaghoststorypodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Theme music is Sexy Sax by Cool Cascade.

Production by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Newman Media⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Hey, it's Michelle, and this week's two calls include a towel that appeared with no one home to deliver it, and two flights separated by years featuring men who should not have existed.

Larissa from Texas calls in with her mother's story, one her mom still denies to this day. Home alone in the shower, expecting her kids back from school, her mother called out twice for someone to bring her a towel. She heard the front door open and close, and when she got out, a towel had been left for her. Except neither of her children had been home. Both were accounted for elsewhere, and every family member who might have stopped by confirmed they hadn't. Around the same time, Larissa had been telling her mother she kept seeing a little girl in the house, dismissed as an overactive imagination, until her mother had her own encounter, waking up to the top of a small head peering over the edge of the bed. The family blessed the house and agreed never to speak of it again.

Gary D. from Southern Ontario returns with a story that goes beyond a typical haunting. Passing through an airport parking garage decades ago, he encountered an elderly man in a tight tan suit who turned his head slowly as he passed, flashing an unnervingly wide, perfectly white smile. Minutes later, he saw an identical man in the same suit, same build, but a different face, then a third at his gate. Two of them boarded his flight and stared at him the entire trip, only to vanish from their seats mid-flight. A flight attendant confirmed those seats had been empty the entire time. Years later, on a different flight, two more men in matching gray suits approached him directly. One said, "Nice to see you again; it's been some time." The other said, "We will be seeing you later." Neither has appeared since.

This one sent me down a research rabbit hole. What Gary describes maps almost perfectly onto a strain of folklore that predates the internet and has only gotten more documented since. There's the Smiling Man, a modern urban legend that started in 2012 on Reddit's r/nosleep, a tall figure in an old, ill-fitting suit with a frozen, exaggerated grin. There's Indrid Cold, sometimes called the Grinning Man, documented back in 1970 and tied to the Mothman phenomenon: a tall, deeply tanned man in a strange, glossy suit who appears out of nowhere and stares in total silence. And there's the broader Men in Black tradition, entities in slightly wrong suits who seem to be mimicking human behavior without fully understanding it, which is exactly the uncanny, hypnotic wrongness Gary described.

Two real callers. Two true ghost stories.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show.

And if this episode moved you, leave a comment on Spotify. I read every single one, and your comments help new listeners find the show.

Support us with official merch at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠newmanmedia.shop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, catch us on YouTube at⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @tellmeaghoststory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, and follow along on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tellmeaghoststorypodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Theme music is Sexy Sax by Cool Cascade.

Production by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Newman Media⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Hey, it's Michelle, and this week's five calls each involve something watching from just beyond the light. A tall silhouette in a top hat that returned to the same little girl five years apart. A glowing face the size of a dinner plate riding in the back seat of a Camaro on a Florida highway. A haunted estate in upstate New York with rooms that seem to beg for attention. A voice from the Oregon woods I need to address directly before we get into it. And a six-year-old ghost boy in Indiana who just wanted his mother back. This episode is available as a video on Spotify and YouTube.

Marissa from Dallas calls in with a true ghost story from when she was five years old, watching shadows in her room take the form of a tall, faceless man in a top hat standing in her doorway. He approached her bed, pressed a hand into the sheets beside her, and then vanished. It never happened again until she was ten, in a new house, when she woke to find her door open, her nightlight off, and multiple dark figures watching from the hallway like an audience. Then the Hat Man returned, closer this time, leaning over her bed and touching her leg through the blanket before disappearing. That was twenty years ago. She still prays it stays that way.

David from Ocala returns to Tell Me A Ghost Story, this time with a story from 1983 that has nothing to do with his movie theater ghost. Driving home from a party at 1 AM in his 1967 Camaro, he checked his blind spot and found a two and a half foot tall glowing figure standing in his back seat, smiling, its face lit from within like a lamp. It lasted only a few seconds before vanishing. He later learned the folklore term for what he saw. An imp.

Ashley calls in about her sister's old estate in Carmel, New York, a historic property from the early 1900s where she would wake in the middle of the night to flickering electronics and a heavy, distracting presence in more than one guest room. Carmel sits in Putnam County on land with a long documented history of paranormal activity, including nearby Smalley's Inn, one of the most famous haunted locations in the region, where the ghost of a toddler named Elizabeth Smalley has been reported for well over a century.

Julian calls in from Bend, Oregon, and this one is different from every other call in this episode. Rather than looking back on something that already happened, Julian's message plays out in real time. Lost in the woods, cold, inside an abandoned house, being followed by something he describes as taller than the trees with a distorted face. If this is you, Julian, or if anyone knows him, please reach out to local authorities in Bend. I hope this was only a story.

And Cindy Ketron from Avon, Indiana closes the episode with a story about her parents' first apartment in 1957, shared with a young married couple whose little boy had died before they ever met. The ghost loved tearing up trash bags and flushing an empty toilet. Cindy's mother, a psychic, eventually walked the boy's spirit by the hand back to his grieving parents, and in the process told them something nobody could have known yet. That she was pregnant. With Cindy.

Five real callers. Five true ghost stories.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show.

And if this episode moved you, leave a comment on Spotify. I read every single one, and your comments help new listeners find the show.

Support us with official merch at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠newmanmedia.shop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, catch us on YouTube at⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @tellmeaghoststory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, and follow along on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tellmeaghoststorypodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Theme music is Sexy Sax by Cool Cascade.

Production by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Newman Media⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Hey, it's Michelle, and this classic episode has five calls that take us to one of the most famously haunted hotels in America, a Ouija board that darkened with every question, a whisper that knew exactly when to speak, and a spider with a human face. This episode is now available as a video on Spotify and YouTube.

Christy from Los Angeles calls in with a true ghost story from her second trip to the Mount Washington Resort in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire. During a live talk from paranormal psychic Chip Coffey, a strange smear, like someone had rubbed the atmosphere itself with a finger, moved across the curtain directly behind him. Two witnesses saw it, and Chip himself paused mid-sentence to say he hadn't seen her there. The Mount Washington Hotel has one of the most storied hauntings in the country, tied to Princess Caroline, the widow of the hotel's original owner, who kept returning summer after summer and whose original suite, room 314, remains the heart of the hotel's reported activity to this day, complete with flickering lights, floral perfume in the night, and a woman seen sitting on her original century-old bed.

Jess from San Antonio, Texas calls in with a haunting that began after moving in with her grandparents. Breathing and moaning came from behind a side door in her childhood bedroom. Years later, her grandmother described two men in old-fashioned clothing watching her sleep, then woke up screaming that a woman was choking her. When a hairstylist client turned out to be a psychic, she independently described the exact same two men, protectors against an evil presence in the home, and performed a salt cleansing that ended the activity for good. Jess has since tried sleeping in that room twice as an adult, both times waking in sleep paralysis with a black mass suffocating her.

Reid from Colorado Springs calls in with a Ouija board session that turned dark fast, the spirit's answers growing more ominous with every question until he ended the session. Afterward, the board's pieces had rearranged themselves on their own, a closed door was found open, and a shadow figure in formal clothing appeared and vanished as he left the room.

Nicole from Phoenix calls in with a whisper she heard as a child pretending to be asleep, "Hey, I see you," in a voice she mistook for her prankster father, who was found asleep in another room seconds later, nowhere near fast enough to have said it. Her mother and aunts later confirmed the house had a long history of activity, including visions of children standing outside holding hands.

And Cindy Ketron from Avon, Indiana closes the episode with a story about her father's first rental house in Indianapolis, cheap because the previous owner had allegedly murdered his wife there. Within a week of moving in, an apricot-sized black spider with a human face began crawling across his bed nightly, vanishing each time, until he finally confronted the landlord, who offered no explanation. The house has since been torn down.

Five real callers. Five true ghost stories.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show.

And if this episode moved you, leave a comment on Spotify. I read every single one, and your comments help new listeners find the show.

Support us with official merch at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠newmanmedia.shop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, catch us on YouTube at⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @tellmeaghoststory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, and follow along on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tellmeaghoststorypodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Theme music is Sexy Sax by Cool Cascade.

Production by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Newman Media⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.