“Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.” (( Viewer Discretion Advised ))
Reblogged from unexplained-events  5,534 notes
unexplained-events:

 Ted Bundy Quotes
1) “We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere. And there will be more of your children dead tomorrow”
2) “You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You’re looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God!”
3) “Sometimes I feel like a vampire.”
4) “Murder is not about lust and it’s not about violence. It’s about possession.”
5) “I’ve met a lot of men who were motivated to commit violence just like me. And without exception, without question, every one of them was deeply involved in pornography. “
6) “What’s one less person on the face of the earth, anyway?”
7) “I just liked to kill, I wanted  to kill”
Ted Bundy was many things, many bad things, but he was also very charming.

unexplained-events:

 Ted Bundy Quotes

1) “We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere. And there will be more of your children dead tomorrow”

2) “You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You’re looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God!”

3) “Sometimes I feel like a vampire.”

4) “Murder is not about lust and it’s not about violence. It’s about possession.”

5) “I’ve met a lot of men who were motivated to commit violence just like me. And without exception, without question, every one of them was deeply involved in pornography. “

6) “What’s one less person on the face of the earth, anyway?”

7) “I just liked to kill, I wanted  to kill”

Ted Bundy was many things, many bad things, but he was also very charming.

Reblogged from generationexorcist  35 notes
generationexorcist:


6 Famous Unsolved Mysteries (With Really Obvious Solutions).
The world is a magical place, full of mysteries science may never understand. It’s also full of bullshit that people just make up to draw attention to themselves.
At the heart of pretty much every “paranormal” phenomenon you find some lonely, attention-seeking soul, or several of them, willing to put a spooky little twist on an otherwise boring story. But it usually doesn’t take a whole lot of examination to find the truth.
For instance…
The Dyatlov Pass Incident
The Lost Roanoke Colony
The Hopkinsville Goblin Case
The Mad Gasser of Mattoon
The Starchild Skull
The Bermuda Triangle
Full Article

generationexorcist:

6 Famous Unsolved Mysteries (With Really Obvious Solutions).

The world is a magical place, full of mysteries science may never understand. It’s also full of bullshit that people just make up to draw attention to themselves.

At the heart of pretty much every “paranormal” phenomenon you find some lonely, attention-seeking soul, or several of them, willing to put a spooky little twist on an otherwise boring story. But it usually doesn’t take a whole lot of examination to find the truth.

For instance…

The Dyatlov Pass Incident

The Lost Roanoke Colony

The Hopkinsville Goblin Case

The Mad Gasser of Mattoon

The Starchild Skull

The Bermuda Triangle

Full Article

Reblogged from theconductors  382 notes
theconductors:

Before teaching at a French school for girls, Emilie Sagee had taught at 18 different schools and had been fired from each one because of the strange events that seemed to follow her.     Emilie Sagee had the incredible power of being seen at two places at once. Students would often report seeing her in class with other students claiming they had seen her walking down the hall at the same time. On one occasion, as she taught with her back to her students, her doppelganger appeared beside her, mimicking her actions except with no chalk in her hand. Students also reported seeing her doppelganger during the school dinner, standing and mimicking her movements as Emilie ate. Emilie had never seen her doppelganger and it was reported that her movements would slow down when she would appear.      During one lesson, her doppelganger was seen picking flowers in the fields as Emilie taught in the classroom.

theconductors:

Before teaching at a French school for girls, Emilie Sagee had taught
at 18 different schools and had been fired from each one because of the strange events that seemed to follow her.
     Emilie Sagee had the incredible power of being seen at two places at once. Students would often report seeing her in class with other students claiming they had seen her walking down the hall at the same time. On one occasion, as she taught with her back to her students, her doppelganger appeared beside her, mimicking her actions except with no chalk in her hand. Students also reported seeing her doppelganger during the school dinner, standing and mimicking her movements as Emilie ate. Emilie had never seen her doppelganger and it was reported that her movements would slow down when she would appear.
     During one lesson, her doppelganger was seen picking flowers in the fields as Emilie taught in the classroom.

Reblogged from kaydin-voodoo  14,256 notes
vagina-fest:

highfivingyourface:


The Webster Culling
The Webster family moved into their new home in early December 1964.
Mike Webster, 32.
Meryl Webster, 23.
Katrina Webster, 8.
Kaylee Webster, 7.
Charlie Webster, 5.
Two days after move-in, both girls started reported strange things to their parents. They said that their brother Charlie was speaking in his sleep about a man that lived in the toy chest.
The toy chest was actually an old trunk that the Webster’s picked up at a flea market and converted into a toy chest.
Meryl asked Charlie about the man in the toy chest the next day at breakfast.
"Hammer and nails," Charlie answered.
When asked again, it was the only thing that he would answer about the man in the toy chest.
After several days, it became the only thing that Charlie would say at all.
"Hammer and nails," Charlie would mutter in response to being asked what he wanted for breakfast. "Hammer and nails."
Fourteen nights after moving into the new house, Mike and Meryl awoke to the screams of all three children. Both parents rushed down the short hallway to the children’s room. When Mike tried to turn on the light, it wouldn’t turn on.
Both Webster parents swear that they heard a deep voice whisper, “Hammered and nailed.” 
The overhead light flickered once and then came on. The scene in the picture is what greeted the Websters that early morning in 1964.
What they were actually looking at became a police mystery that still has not been solved to this day.
The above picture was taken at the crime scene. Note the hammer on top of the toy chest. This hammer appears nowhere on the evidence list and neither the Websters nor any of the police that responded to the call remember it being there.
Although all three children were hung, that wasn’t the cause of death. The cause of death was a nail that had been hammered through the back of each child’s skull.
The boy at the far right of the frame is Charlie, and this is where the mystery gets even deeper.
The two girls on the left are not the Webster girls. The Webster girls disappeared that night and the two unidentified girls were killed in the bedroom.
The Webster girls have never been found, and the two dead girls that appeared in the Webster house have never been identified.

Holy fuck

Holy fuck, like oh my fucking fuck

vagina-fest:

highfivingyourface:

The Webster Culling

The Webster family moved into their new home in early December 1964.

Mike Webster, 32.

Meryl Webster, 23.

Katrina Webster, 8.

Kaylee Webster, 7.

Charlie Webster, 5.

Two days after move-in, both girls started reported strange things to their parents. They said that their brother Charlie was speaking in his sleep about a man that lived in the toy chest.

The toy chest was actually an old trunk that the Webster’s picked up at a flea market and converted into a toy chest.

Meryl asked Charlie about the man in the toy chest the next day at breakfast.

"Hammer and nails," Charlie answered.

When asked again, it was the only thing that he would answer about the man in the toy chest.

After several days, it became the only thing that Charlie would say at all.

"Hammer and nails," Charlie would mutter in response to being asked what he wanted for breakfast. "Hammer and nails."

Fourteen nights after moving into the new house, Mike and Meryl awoke to the screams of all three children. Both parents rushed down the short hallway to the children’s room. When Mike tried to turn on the light, it wouldn’t turn on.

Both Webster parents swear that they heard a deep voice whisper, “Hammered and nailed.” 

The overhead light flickered once and then came on. The scene in the picture is what greeted the Websters that early morning in 1964.

What they were actually looking at became a police mystery that still has not been solved to this day.

The above picture was taken at the crime scene. Note the hammer on top of the toy chest. This hammer appears nowhere on the evidence list and neither the Websters nor any of the police that responded to the call remember it being there.

Although all three children were hung, that wasn’t the cause of death. The cause of death was a nail that had been hammered through the back of each child’s skull.

The boy at the far right of the frame is Charlie, and this is where the mystery gets even deeper.

The two girls on the left are not the Webster girls. The Webster girls disappeared that night and the two unidentified girls were killed in the bedroom.

The Webster girls have never been found, and the two dead girls that appeared in the Webster house have never been identified.

Holy fuck

Holy fuck, like oh my fucking fuck

Reblogged from unexplained-events  2,354 notes

unexplained-events:

Ophiocordyceps unilateralis is an entomopathogenic (it acts as a parasite and can kill or disable the host) fungus. It is known as the mind controlling fungi and in the 1st picture it can be seen growing out the head of a “zombie” ant in the Brazilian forest. It can control the behavioral patterns of the host it has attached onto. It takes control of an ant so it can move to an ideal location for the fungi to grow and spread its spores, after that it kills the ant.

Reblogged from unexplained-events  1,719 notes

unexplained-events:

On Decemeber 12, 1964 Le Serrec and family decided to vacation at one of the Whitsunday Islands knowns as Hook Island. Le Serrec’s wife spotted a strange figure on the lagoon floor white crossing Stonehaven Bay. It looked like a gaint tad-pole like creature estimated at about 30ft. They took multiple photogrpahs of this strange creature.

Reblogged from eeriie  910 notes
eeriie:

Warning: May be triggering.
My mother left when I was four. Normally, that wouldn’t mean anything, but I suspected for a long time that the porcelain dolls were coming from her, like some pitiful little attempt to show me that she loved me.
My father; he worked overtime to keep things going in the household even if it was just the two of us. His hands were always worn from working the machines at the shop and he slaved even more when he got home and had to make supper for himself and I, and go through my nightly routines before I hit the sack. I sometimes woke up in the middle of the night and he was still awake, cleaning a room in the house, and I thought to myself, “This man is dedicated. Has to be awake in only a few hours…and here he is.” I love my father, and I always have.
One of his most trusted friends from high school, Alexander, was my babysitter from the time my mother left, to the time I was about seven years old. We trusted Alexander. He worked night shift and so he was able to work babysitting in around his hours, and he would have done anything to help out my father to make that work. My father paid him even though he asked for nothing; he said he was just ‘doing his good deed’, “and I like it anyway!” My dad used to come home from work and Alexander would pick up his bags full of toys that we played with; he always brought the best toys and trinkets with him. His daughter had passed away when she was ten years old, and I think it brought him great joy to now share her old toys with another little girl. He would say to my dad, “She was great for me. She ate well, and she took her usual long nap. I’ll be back tomorrow!” And he always came back.
Well, eventually times changed and my dad’s work schedule changed with them. We didn’t see Alexander anymore because we didn’t NEED Alexander anymore. My father thought that they lost touch permanently and when I asked about him he told me truthfully that Alexander was a very busy man. And he understood that, and I did too.
For my eighth birthday, the first porcelain doll arrived. It had beautiful, blonde curly hair and a painted on face. She was wearing what looked to be an expensive, velvet dress with an attached tutu. She came inside a stuffed envelope with nothing else on the package to identify who had sent her. Just my name, that was all. The first thing that my father did was call my grandmother, who said, “No, I didn’t drive by and place a present on the porch. I’m not her coward mother; I would have given it right to her.” That gave my father the second idea: my mother. Only thing was, we had no way of getting in touch with her and finding out for she had literally taken off and abandoned us both. And over the next few weeks, nobody came forth and said they had gotten me the doll, so we assumed this is who had sent it.
They showed up every year since then. Each unique in their own ways, each more beautiful than the last. I thought it was a little odd, yes. Especially because my mother made no outreach to me so if she was sending me gifts but not bothering to even so much call me and check up, then that was just plain rude of her and her gifts meant literally nothing. But I continued to set them up on my shelf in my bedroom and they looked nice there, I suppose.
The year I turned nineteen, I was moved into college and was taking courses on my birthday. My father called me from home and asked me when I was coming back home for a break, and I told him that I had time this weekend, but I only said this because I sensed some urgency in his voice. I could make it work. He told me not to worry about anything but that he would really like to see me. Then he stressed that I always lock my doors and always have somebody walking with me if I was out past dark, which I already knew.
I returned home that weekend and my father said there had been an accident. My porcelain birthday doll had arrived, my nineteenth year doll. When my father brought it inside the house, it had smashed into a hundred separate pieces. Inside, there was a diary entry on a piece of paper. We spent the entire day smashing open every porcelain doll, and the entire night speaking with the police. Alexander had written diary entries for every time he had drugged and molested me, each more explicit, admitting that he had done the same to his daughter up until the time of her horrible death. My father and I hadn’t a dry eye in our house that entire night, and I continued to have problems throughout my college career knowing that Alexander was somewhere out there, probably assuming a new identity and doing the same thing to other girls.
Now I know why he had always commented on me taking such ‘usual long naps.’
Credit goes to horriddaydream on Reddit.

eeriie:

Warning: May be triggering.

My mother left when I was four. Normally, that wouldn’t mean anything, but I suspected for a long time that the porcelain dolls were coming from her, like some pitiful little attempt to show me that she loved me.

My father; he worked overtime to keep things going in the household even if it was just the two of us. His hands were always worn from working the machines at the shop and he slaved even more when he got home and had to make supper for himself and I, and go through my nightly routines before I hit the sack. I sometimes woke up in the middle of the night and he was still awake, cleaning a room in the house, and I thought to myself, “This man is dedicated. Has to be awake in only a few hours…and here he is.” I love my father, and I always have.

One of his most trusted friends from high school, Alexander, was my babysitter from the time my mother left, to the time I was about seven years old. We trusted Alexander. He worked night shift and so he was able to work babysitting in around his hours, and he would have done anything to help out my father to make that work. My father paid him even though he asked for nothing; he said he was just ‘doing his good deed’, “and I like it anyway!” My dad used to come home from work and Alexander would pick up his bags full of toys that we played with; he always brought the best toys and trinkets with him. His daughter had passed away when she was ten years old, and I think it brought him great joy to now share her old toys with another little girl. He would say to my dad, “She was great for me. She ate well, and she took her usual long nap. I’ll be back tomorrow!” And he always came back.

Well, eventually times changed and my dad’s work schedule changed with them. We didn’t see Alexander anymore because we didn’t NEED Alexander anymore. My father thought that they lost touch permanently and when I asked about him he told me truthfully that Alexander was a very busy man. And he understood that, and I did too.

For my eighth birthday, the first porcelain doll arrived. It had beautiful, blonde curly hair and a painted on face. She was wearing what looked to be an expensive, velvet dress with an attached tutu. She came inside a stuffed envelope with nothing else on the package to identify who had sent her. Just my name, that was all. The first thing that my father did was call my grandmother, who said, “No, I didn’t drive by and place a present on the porch. I’m not her coward mother; I would have given it right to her.” That gave my father the second idea: my mother. Only thing was, we had no way of getting in touch with her and finding out for she had literally taken off and abandoned us both. And over the next few weeks, nobody came forth and said they had gotten me the doll, so we assumed this is who had sent it.

They showed up every year since then. Each unique in their own ways, each more beautiful than the last. I thought it was a little odd, yes. Especially because my mother made no outreach to me so if she was sending me gifts but not bothering to even so much call me and check up, then that was just plain rude of her and her gifts meant literally nothing. But I continued to set them up on my shelf in my bedroom and they looked nice there, I suppose.

The year I turned nineteen, I was moved into college and was taking courses on my birthday. My father called me from home and asked me when I was coming back home for a break, and I told him that I had time this weekend, but I only said this because I sensed some urgency in his voice. I could make it work. He told me not to worry about anything but that he would really like to see me. Then he stressed that I always lock my doors and always have somebody walking with me if I was out past dark, which I already knew.

I returned home that weekend and my father said there had been an accident. My porcelain birthday doll had arrived, my nineteenth year doll. When my father brought it inside the house, it had smashed into a hundred separate pieces. Inside, there was a diary entry on a piece of paper. We spent the entire day smashing open every porcelain doll, and the entire night speaking with the police. Alexander had written diary entries for every time he had drugged and molested me, each more explicit, admitting that he had done the same to his daughter up until the time of her horrible death. My father and I hadn’t a dry eye in our house that entire night, and I continued to have problems throughout my college career knowing that Alexander was somewhere out there, probably assuming a new identity and doing the same thing to other girls.

Now I know why he had always commented on me taking such ‘usual long naps.’

Credit goes to horriddaydream on Reddit.

Reblogged from eeriie  1,363 notes
paranormaldaily:

El Paso’s High School happens to be one of the oldest buildings in that city, and if the chilling stories turn out to be true, it’s also possibly the most haunted, with paranormal phenomenon reported there almost daily, and one particularly creepy backstory.  Eerie reports from students and faculty include urban legends surrounding the building’s fourth floor, which is said to be inhabited by a thick mist, its ceilings dripping with ectoplasmic slime. Some have linked the phenomena to a tragedy dating back 35 years, when a despondent student slashed her wrists and dove from the fourth floor balcony to her death. Her spectral shape has been sighted on the balcony, waving to visitors or recreating her fatal jump, and is also seen roaming the hallways, crying.

 
Adding to the mystery is the class photo above, dated 1985, showing the unidentified woman in the center whose features are blurred and distorted. According to students who posed for the photo, no one recognized her from the day the picture was taken… and some say she was never there. 

Just as creepy is an account from 15 years ago, in which a group of teachers found a small sealed-up classroom behind a brick wall. The room had been left exactly as it was when the last class left, with students’ personal items still on the desks. One such item was a love letter from a teenage girl… and a haunting suicide note. - See more at: [x]

paranormaldaily:

El Paso’s High School happens to be one of the oldest buildings in that city, and if the chilling stories turn out to be true, it’s also possibly the most haunted, with paranormal phenomenon reported there almost daily, and one particularly creepy backstory.  Eerie reports from students and faculty include urban legends surrounding the building’s fourth floor, which is said to be inhabited by a thick mist, its ceilings dripping with ectoplasmic slime. Some have linked the phenomena to a tragedy dating back 35 years, when a despondent student slashed her wrists and dove from the fourth floor balcony to her death. Her spectral shape has been sighted on the balcony, waving to visitors or recreating her fatal jump, and is also seen roaming the hallways, crying.
 
Adding to the mystery is the class photo above, dated 1985, showing the unidentified woman in the center whose features are blurred and distorted. According to students who posed for the photo, no one recognized her from the day the picture was taken… and some say she was never there. 
Just as creepy is an account from 15 years ago, in which a group of teachers found a small sealed-up classroom behind a brick wall. The room had been left exactly as it was when the last class left, with students’ personal items still on the desks. One such item was a love letter from a teenage girl… and a haunting suicide note. - See more at: [x]