It was Halloween night when this story took place.

A friend of mine and I decided to go walking around, since there was nothing better to do. My brother and sister decided to stay home and treat the kids, and watch some horror movies. My friend and I walked around for about an hour when we ran into his mom and dad.

He caught a ride home with them and I decided to go home. When I got home, my brother opened the door with a shotgun in his hands. He said, “Get in now!” I said to him, “What are you doing with a shotgun?” He told me someone or something was outside. I thought to myself, Yeah right, you’re just trying to freak me out, until I saw my sister in tears and frightened to death.

My brother told me they were treating some kids and watching movies when all of the sudden Tom (our black cat) started acting funny. Tom was arching his back and started squalling as if he was scared to death! Then someone or something started pounding on the windows going all around the house. He said he could hear a grunting sound out side.

Whatever it was scared my sister so bad she was crying. That is when my brother decided to get the gun and he told me he was ready to shoot what ever was out there. When I showed up it all stopped. At first he thought I done it. However, after I explained to him that I just got home, and was just as surprised as he was, he knew better.

My grandpa Chester Morgan was murdered three years before I was born. He lived in a house that was not the best looking. After he died, everyone who would drive by or walk by at night swore they could hear gunshots and screaming. Once a woman thought, she even saw my grandpa out in the yard. Everyone was afraid to go by at night. Now I live where he used to live but in a new house. You can still feel his presence and hear car doors slamming, talking, unexplainable things happening, and you can feel someone sit down on the bed beside you. My grandpa Chester haunts my house and I honestly believe he wants someone to solve his murder!

When I was a young girl living on Roger Street in Bluefield, West Virginia my two best friends Debbie and Linda and I were playing outside their apartment in the hallway. They had told me earlier that day while they were eating lunch the kool-aid pitcher lifted off the table by itself and not believing them I asked their mother and she agreed that indeed that was what happened. She said they had a ghost that lived in their home but not to worry it was friendly. She told me sometimes in the middle of the night their chalk-dog that propped open the door to the girls’ bedroom would move by itself and their ghost liked to play tricks on them all the time. I did not expect the ghost to play a trick on me because I was not part of their family but I found out later that day it did not matter to the ghost and the joke he played on me was not very funny.

I had laid down on the door stoop after losing a game of jacks to the girls and when the game was over I tried to get up and couldn’t. It felt like someone was sitting on top of me. The girls started laughing at first and then they realized I was telling the truth and ran and got their mom and told her the ghost would not let me up to play. She came outside and told me not to worry that the ghost was playing a trick on me. By this time, I was crying and really scared because I truly could not move. I felt as if someone was sitting on top of me and I could hardly breathe, and so she yelled in her best motherly voice for the ghost to get off me and leave me alone. Sure enough within seconds, I was able to move again.

To this day, I do not know why I could not move or what the pressure on my body was, but I was glad their mom was home. Now that I think about it, all these years later, I believe their ghost was a boy who was very mischievous and had lots of fun playing tricks on everyone…. including me!

The story I am going to tell you, you may not believe and think its fiction, but it is real. It happened to me when I was 13 years old and I am now 56.

This day on the 25th of May started like any other day. We got up around 8 o’clock, went for breakfast, and came back to the room to make the bed. The room was a bit of a mess. Suitcases were everywhere. It was getting later and my dad wanted to miss the traffic so we hurried to take the bags down to the van.

My sister and I sat in the back of the van, we should not have because it was pitch black, but I had my laptop and we listened to music and went to sleep.

We got back to my house at 12:30 and my dad asked me to go to the store. I did, they were only down the street. I bought some bacon.

Going to the store was fine I cut down the back ally and on my way back I walked the normal route. When I looked down the back ally there was a figure looking round the corner as if he was looking for me. He turned round, saw me, and shouted, “Emily!” but my name is not Emily, its Becky. I said to him, “Sorry, but you have the wrong person. I’m called Becky.” When he was walking he didn’t seem to be walking you couldn’t see his feet moving and he followed me all the way home saying, “Emily get back here now don’t you walk away from me.” I walked into my house and he hovered around the house for quite a while. Then he disappeared.

I told my mom and dad and their jaw dropped. They described the man to me (pale, tall, skinny, and wore white clothes) I asked them how did they know who he was. They told me, many years ago, there was a man that used to live at the top of the street, and he had a daughter named Emily. She ran away complaining he was hitting her when he was drunk and making her do every thing since his wife had died. She ran away and he killed himself. Every 3 years he comes back looking for her. My mom told me that I looked like her. He must have thought I was her. Now he will not leave me alone until I find his daughter. Every night, he would knock on my bedroom window shouting, “Emily I am sorry for what I did. It was hard for me when your mother had just died.” He would keep me awake until about three in the morning. Whatever room I went in, he followed. I was scared to go into a room with no windows in case he followed me and I could not get out. His daughter would have now been 28. He does not know this because when he died she was only 13. My mom helped me as much as she could by finding names and addresses of the girl, but none of them fit.

It was as if she had disappeared into nowhere. Maybe she had killed herself or been killed. It went on for 8 months and that was when someone came knocking on the door. She looked like an older version of me. Could it be her? I thought to my self. It was his daughter. She had heard about it and could not see me suffer from him, so she had come. Now the daughter talks to him and has made friends with him even though he is dead.

When I was 12, my friend and I went swimming in her pool. We were talking about ghosts and she said that her room was haunted. I did not think much about it until her mom was telling me about it. We all ate some popcorn and watched a movie then went to bed. It was about 11:30 pm. We woke up around 2:00 am for a snack. We looked over and saw this girl standing by her old baby crib. She was wearing a long white dress and just watching us. She did not seem like she wanted to hurt us just as if she was trying to look after us. We asked her mom about it and her mom said she was just like an angel.

My husband went to college at Glenville State and we both ran the Conrad Motel. Since you had to be there 24-7, it was very stressful so some of our friends would come over and give us a few hours to our self and we would usually go for a drive around town or explore some of the back roads in the hills.

This one particular evening we went driving and ran upon an old deserted house. It was gray-aged wood without paint and clearly no one had lived there for many years. We decided to go in and take a look. There was an old calendar, newspaper pasted on the wall, some old furniture, and dishes still on the old wooden table as if they just got up and walked away. Because some of the windows were broken, the room was very dusty and covered with old leaves and spider webs on the corners of the walls. We looked around for a bit but began to feel like we should not be there so we walked back to our car.

All of a sudden, we heard what sounded like the whirling sound of a mine fan. We looked around but could not see anything. It was the beginning of dusk and it spooked us so we decided to go back home and call it a night. While we were driving off, I turned around to get one last look at the house. I saw the torn curtain pulled back and an old gray haired woman with her hair in a bun looking out the window. I let out a gasp and my husband wanted to know what was wrong. I pointed, he swore, and we got out of there as fast as we could!

We told the story to our friend who was watching the motel for us and the next day my husband and him decided they would go back for a closer look and see if they could find the source of the noise we heard and to check out the house for antiques. Although my husband knew those roads backwards and forwards they never did find the old house or the source of that weird noise we heard…

My sister has told me stories of her son and his friends seeing a ghost in his trailer. I did not believe it because I do not believe in ghosts. Therefore, I had to go up there and see for myself.

My sister and I were going to go up there to move her son out on August 2, 2007. We arrived there about 8:00 that night. I was not scared when I got there because it was a new trailer. We started packing some stuff about midnight while I was sitting at the bar and she was standing on the other side of it. I heard a noise as if she had kicked the wall under the counter-top. I asked, “What was that?” she said, ” you just kicked the bar stool that was beside me.” I said, “No I didn’t.” She said, “I just saw that bar stool move left to right off the floor.” I did not do it and she did not either. I was a little scared at this point.

Later, she was walking toward the hall, my suitcase was sitting there, she started screaming and running towards me, and then I started screaming. She said, “Your suitcase was moving… Your suitcase was moving!” She was crying at this point. We had decided that we were not going to go to sleep that night.

We never heard or seen anything else that night. I guess we scared it by screaming.

I now have belief that there is ghost’s on this earth.

Back when Crum Middle was Crum High, there is was pretty blond cheerleader named Kayla that got everything she wanted, the guys, the grades, the popularity, and the friends. One cold autumn night the cheerleaders were out on the field cheering on the Mountaineers. Kayla said she was going to use the bathroom. Soon as she entered the school, which was dark and creepy, she walked down the hallway and she heard footsteps. When she stopped so did the footsteps.

She hurried off to the bathroom and chose a stall. She then washed her hands, fixed her hair, hurried out, and ran smack dab into someone wearing a red devil mask. “Johnny is that you?” She asked. The person never said a word and then she noticed the axe he held. “What’s that for?” She asked. He raised it at her and she ran back into the bathroom. She ran to a stall. She had heard a story about a cheerleader being murdered in the last stall. The door was wired closed so no student could get in it. He tried getting into the stall she was in so she tried to climb over to the forbidden stall. Once inside she saw the bloodstains. Then she saw a blond girl hiding. Who was she?

“Sara come out!” The guy’s voice shouted. The girl in the stall trembled. Kayla reached out to touch her and her hand went right threw the girls body. She was a ghost! “I just want to kill you Sara.” He said maliciously. Then he shoved the axe at the stall breaking the door and then he sliced off her head. Kayla closed her eyes. “Kay where are you?” Jen another cheerleader asked. Kayla opened her eyes to see blood stains on the wall. She just saw it happened. That was the way Sara Ferrell died that homecoming night.

I used to live with my parents on Hubbard Place across from the Wheeling Park entrance off National Road. I was about 17 or 18 at the time. I am 25 now. My parents decided to rent the house instead of buying it because the backyard had collapsed off of the steep hillside behind the house and part of the garage was hanging off. They rented it from an older man whose wife had just died from cancer and he was getting remarried. However, even before them, their previous owner was an old man that had apparently died from natural causes on the back porch. The room I chose was in the basement, which was turned into a den. There was the living room area, a bathroom, a small laundry room, and across from that room, was my bedroom, which used to be the son’s room. I chose it because it had a deep red carpet and I thought it was pretty. The room had no windows, so it was pitch black when the lights were turned off.

Well one night, it was just me and my mother there because my dad was out of town for his job. Now my parent’s room was RIGHT above mine and she was watching TV in her bedroom while I was in mine reading a book. I was in my room for the night, had shut off the rest of the lights downstairs, and shut my bedroom door. As I was laying in bed reading, suddenly three distinct knocks occurred on my bedroom door. I paused, looked at my door, knowing my mother had not left her room because I could hear the TV. To verify this assumption, I yelled up, “Mom!?”

“What?” As soon as I heard her reply, like one second after I had heard the knock, my face felt hot. I doubt that my heavy-set mother (no offense, mom) could have sprinted that far in one to five seconds. She would have had to fly up the stairs, through the kitchen, then down the hallway to the back end to get to her bedroom.

I still replied with the question, “Did you just knock on my door?”

“No?!”

“Well someone just did.” I jumped up but refused to open the door until my mom turned the lights on from the top of the stairs. I was a little excited that I was actually having a “ghost encounter” but was still a little scared. I knew for certain that it was a distinct knocking on my door and it could not have possibly been my mom.

She turned on the lights and I looked outside my door to find no one. She stood at the top of the stairs holding the phone and said for me to look around downstairs and if there was someone in the house that had broken in, that she would call the cops. Thanks mom! I looked everywhere, even in the tiny furnace room I had forgotten to mention before. Never found anyone. I guess it might have been the guy’s mother coming to check on him since that had been his room. Who knows?

Other times, during the day as well as nighttime, I would hear heavy footsteps walking around upstairs when no one else would be up there. Most of the time I would be home alone when this happened, but it would also occur when I had friends over but always when no one else could possibly be upstairs. They have heard it themselves. The first time I heard it I was home alone and thought that my dad had come home. I never heard the front or back door open or close the whole time. The footsteps sounded just like boots that my dad wears, so I had yelled upstairs several times with no response. Getting irritated because I believed he was deaf, I had gone upstairs and stood in the kitchen yelling for my dad thinking he was right there. Therefore, I grabbed a big knife and checked every room to make sure, because I knew as soon as I reached the kitchen that my dad was certainly not in the house with me.

I will never forget the morning when I was heading to work as an RN at the old Stevens Clinic Hospital in Welch, WV. It was early as I was on the 7 a.m. – 3 p.m. shift and I had approximately a 45 minute drive from my home in Jenkinjones, WV to Welch, WV. It was very foggy that morning and at first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but as I came closer, I was sure this was no trick of my eyes.

I was nearing the turn-off to go across Elkhorn Mountain and suddenly a man appeared on the side of the road near the turnoff. I slowed up as I thought it was someone I might know or thought maybe there had been a car accident up ahead. I got a good look at the image. It was a middle-aged man who had a long trench coat on and a poor-man hat on his head (pancake style hat with brim). He appeared to be trying to flag me down so I slowed down, but as I approached him slowly, he just disappeared. I was really shook up and after all these years I wondered what the significance of this incident was. What had happened in that area that would leave a soul in a state of un-rest?

I have told many of my friends and family about this incident with hopes of someone knowing of something that may have occurred at this area that would leave this place haunted, but no one knows anything. I recently seen another article about the Elkhorn Ghost on your site and now I know that I am not the only one that has seen something in this area of McDowell county near Anawalt, WV.

I was working at a little store on the Elk River, near Elkview. I always got stuck with the night shift and it was boring most of the time. One night at about 3AM I was standing behind the counter looking out the window when a car pulled in, it was an orange 1966 Chevelle SS. It pulled in and backed up to the window. A young man, around 19 or so, came into the store. I said, “Nice car”, he turned and looked at me with sunken eyes and said, “It’s a death trap”.

He asked for a pack of Lucky Strikes and when I asked if he wanted filtered or non-filtered he looked at me as if I was crazy and said non-filtered. I told him it was $1.25 and he looked at me strange again. He handed me 5 quarters. I laid the money on the register but did not put it in the drawer. As he left, I told him again that he had a nice car. Again, he turned and said, “It’s a death trap”. I looked back out the window and noticed the car had 1966 license plates on it. As he pulled out, he just barely missed the girl that made the biscuits in the mornings as she pulled in. When she came in I said, “That was close”, and she said, “What was close?” She never saw the car. I picked up the quarters and noticed they were ice cold and all dated before 1966. I talked to an old man that lived near there and he said the store was built on the old railroad tracks and the young man was killed trying to beat a train across the tracks near there in 1966! He was driving an orange 1966 Chevelle SS.

I was all alone in my house on a rainy night. I just started to pop some popcorn and I heard someone call, “Jessica.” I froze where I was and waited a second. I saw a shadow in the hallway and went to investigate. I heard, “Jessica” in a spooky voice, and then it hit me about my grandpa’s ghost who was murdered in this very house. I started to shake and my heart pounded. A gust of wind came from behind me and I spun around to see my grandpa’s ghost lying in a pool of blood, it looked so real, but as fast as it came, it disappeared. I ran down the hall to my room and it was coming for me. I covered my face and stood in the corner. A cold hand touched my trembling shoulder.

“Go away!” I screamed. “Jessica you look as if you have seen a ghost.” My mom said. I uncovered my eyes and looked at her. I was baffled, where did my papa’s ghost go. After that, I never saw the ghost, but weird things have happened.