What's a weird or creepy story about you?

Do you mean hookers or bookies? I don't know if he serialed prostitutes or racketerers.

Aren't you glad you are here?  And, yes, pretty creepy.

My cousin's husband called John Wayne Gacey's house because he was going to do a real estate deal with him.  The cops answered the phone and said he was not available.  We learned he had just been arrested, speaking of Serials.

But my creepy story?  Let's see.  Do you want the haunted Ouija board?  Or maybe later.... I'll explain.   This post was edited by WM BARR . =ABSOLUTE TRASH at September 17, 2019 9:02 AM MDT

A neighbour who frequently babysat our kids turned out to be the wife of one of the perps of the Snowtown murders - the " bodies in the barrels" case.
https://en.www.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snowtown_murders This post was edited by Slartibartfast at September 17, 2019 6:32 AM MDT

Our paperboy when I was a kid was an older boy named "Johnny". I remember him very well. He was about 8 years older than me, but unlike the other boys his age, he wasn't a dick or a mean kid.   He would always stop to talk to us every time he was on his route, never treating us like little kids or teasing us. We all liked him very much. I remember him very well. He had brown hair, freckles and laughed like a hyena. He was our paperboy for as long as I could remember and he was very diligent with his responsibilities.   Mom and dad liked him quite a bit as well because he was the all-American boy, a good boy.  They would provide him birthday cards, Christmas cards, and give him very generous tips. 

One day, Johnny did not show up to deliver the paper. No one delivered the paper. My parents were wondering what happened and my dad was a little irked, but forgiving because that was not like Johnny to not show up. 
The next day, after school, we were all outside playing and a car pulled up. A strange guy got out to deliver the newspaper. He went into my house and spoke with my mom for a moment, then left. Shortly afterward, my mom came outside with tears in her eyes, asked my friends to go home, and told me and my brother in a soft voice to come inside.

She brought us into the living room and told us that Johnny had died. Someone had killed him. We didn't know what to say or do because other than my grandma, I never knew anyone who had died.  We all sat on the couch and cried until my dad came home. She didn't reveal much of the details of what happened to Johnny, but later on, after we were put to bed, I snuck out and spied on my parents talking in the living room. I overheard them...

Johnny was a freshman in High School and had attended a school dance. He had a crush on an older girl and was flirting with her. Her boyfriend became very irate with jealousy and rage. He and some of his friends had kidnapped Johnny when he left the dance, drove him down a dirt road nearby, parked behind a greenhouse, and got out.
They beat him up badly. They then hog-tied him, taped his mouth and eyes shut.  the rope around his feet was bound around his neck in a way so as he struggled, it choked him to death.  After watching him die, they drove off into the night.  Leaving him there.   His body wasn't discovered for approximately a day and a half. 

Backtracking, in between Johnny's failed paper delivery and the revelation of his death...
My friends and I had a habit of visiting a greenhouse the next street over from ours.  We had a stupid kid-thing where we would throw rocks at the greenhouse windows then, run like hell.  In that place where we were tossing rocks, we were just a few yards away from Johnny's undiscovered body.   Johnny' was tucked away, down an embankment, in the bushes where he had rolled as he was fighting for his life to escape the ropes. We never noticed.





This post was edited by Jon at September 17, 2019 7:43 AM MDT

  A strange coincidence in my life is that many of the women close to me, important to me, have their birthdays within two weeks of my birthday: my mother is five days different, my wife is six days, three former girlfriends six, seven and eleven days. 

Umm, not really any creepy stories about me, just a couple of weird coincidences in my family.  My mom and my step-mom both have the same maiden name, Johnson, but they're not related to each other.  I asked my dad why he loved Johnsons so much but he didn't see as much humor in that as everybody else did.

There's also a weird coincidence between my husband, our kids, his dad and his dad's grandpa.  I was born in Watertown SD and so were our kids.  My husband's dad was born in Watertown WI and his grandpa was born in Watertown NY.

I also found out through our family histories that my husband and I are 32nd or 33rd cousins.  We both have the same king and queen in our ancestry.

This is kinda dumb, but when I was a younger fella, I worked in a hospital laundry. We had to wash linens used in surgery and were all bloody, and sometimes had guts on them.  Anyway, one day we got some sheets that smelled like a dead animal. There was dirt and weeds and some purple stuff all over it. Later that evening, I read a news story about police finding the decaying body of a wino in a local ditch. Raise your glass!