Queen’s students share their personal ghost stories

Students recount their interactions with the supernatural

Queen's students share real-life horror stories.
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Rooming with Spirits

In 2017, five of my friends and I moved into our new house to find we weren’t the only ones living there.
 
We’d been looking forward to moving in for almost a year. Second year meant no more cafeteria food, dons, or public bathrooms—only six friends living together.
 
We quickly made the house our home, decorating the walls and hosting a few too many housewarming parties. We felt safe, happy, and comfortable in our new place. 
 
Shortly after settling in, my housemates and I heard inexplicable sounds throughout the house. We’d hear the shower’s sliding door move on its own, footsteps sound from upstairs, and the front door open and close.
 
Shortly after settling in, my housemates and I heard inexplicable sounds throughout the house.
 
We were suspicious of the sounds but quick to brush them off and continue with our lives.
 
That was until the evening of Oct. 25. While all six of us were sitting around the dinner table, a pan on the stove began to rock back and forth on its own. We tried to play it off as normal, but nothing could explain the shaking.
 
We decided we’d had enough. We had to get to the bottom of these strange occurrences.
 
Ten minutes later, we’d lit candles and set up a homemade Ouija board in the middle of our table.
 
To use a Ouija board, each player lightly places one finger on the planchette—a wooden triangle used for these ceremonies—and questions the room’s spirits. If one is contacted successfully, the planchette moves itself around the board and spells out words or numbers to answer the questions. 
 
“Is there anyone here?” we asked the board. No response. We asked again and again, but still, no response. 
 
After a couple more tries, the planchette dragged itself to the word “yes” written on a piece of paper. Once we were sure there was someone there, we continued to ask questions to find out who exactly we were talking to. 
 
“What’s your name?” we asked. 
 
Slowly but surely, the planchette moved to the letters “A,” “D,” and “Y,” until it spelt out “Adysot.” 
 
My housemates and I continued to communicate with him for a few minutes, until we felt we were no longer speaking to Adysot. We asked if there was another presence with us, and it turns out there was. 
 
This time, the spirit’s name was “Pam,” a three-year-old good spirit, according to her.
 
Realizing there was more than one spirit with us, we asked the board how many there were in our presence. The planchette slid to number “8.”
 
With news of our eight additional roommates in mind, we decided that was enough for one night and stopped the game.
 
After looking up the standard conditions of using Ouija boards, my housemates and I discovered we’d broken some of rules with our first try. Ouija boards are supposed to open the connection to the spirit world, attracting and inviting spirits from all over.
 
They shouldn’t be played at home.  If you play where you live and connect with a malevolent spirit, it can stay in your house.  Spirits can’t be trusted.
 
A spirit can take possession of players and gain access to their mind. 
 
The next night, we decided to break out the Ouija board and play again. This time, when we asked how many spirits were with us, the answer was 27. 
 
After asking who was with us a few times, we compiled a list of names: Nudu, Vird, Lucuv, Mat, and Kory, to name a few. When asking whether or not they had good intentions, Nudu was one of the few that replied, “No.” 
 
I suggested asking Nudu if he’d taken possession of any of us. He answered “no” until it got to my housemate, Emily, and the planchette quickly swiveled over to “yes.” 
 
We put Nudu’s answer to the test by asking personal questions about Emily only she’d know.
 
“How many concussions has Emily had?” I asked. The planchette made its way over to the number “4.” We looked over at Emily, who had a look of horror on her face. Nudu was right. 
 
While Nudu answered the rest of our questions correctly, we couldn’t rule out the fact Emily’s hand was on the planchette. Maybe she was purposely or subconsciously guiding it in a certain direction. 
 
We told Emily to take her hand off the board but stay where she was. Then we asked: “What is Emily’s brother’s girlfriend’s last name?” None of us knew the answer. The board replied. We looked over at Emily and she confirmed that it was the right name. We were all in disbelief. 
 
A few of my housemates decided they were done playing and lifted their fingers off the board. Without even asking a question, the planchette  moved to the corner of the board. With only three remaining fingers on the edges of the shot glass planchette, we never could’ve made that happen on our own. 
 
Although that was the last time we ever played Ouija, the story doesn’t end there. 
 
The following weeks were bad. My housemates and I were constantly uneasy in our home, and got especially nervous at night. We all felt as though we were being watched—we saw dark shadows in the corners of our rooms and suffered from horrible nightmares.
 
Emily would often wake up in the middle of the night screaming for help, convinced she saw a figure in front of her. One night while I was lying in bed, I heard a noise coming from my window like someone running nails up and down my wooden blinds. 
 
After too many sleepless nights, we decided to hire a medium.
 
We showed the medium around our home and told her what happened. Although we didn’t tell her where we felt the dark spirit, she was able to identify the exact spots we felt their presence most. 
 
When the medium described the characteristics of the spirit she sensed, it was exactly the type of presence I’d felt. We all agreed the spirit was an adult male in his late 20s or early 30s. He was a bit of a loner. Was this Adysot?
 
She helped us remove the presence by lighting sage and encouraging him to go towards the light. We truly felt better afterwards—I no longer saw dark shadows in the corners of my room, and stopped feeling like I was being watched at night. We thought this spirit listened to us, complied with the medium’s instructions and left.
 
About a week later, when dropping off the payment for the sessions, the medium told us something that stays with me today: the spirit she’d helped us get rid of was now following her. 
 
Although this happened almost a year ago, there’s still rarely a day that goes by where I don’t think about these events in one way or another.
 
Realizing that ghosts could be real felt like discovering magic wasn’t limited to the movies. I now often find myself wondering what else there is about this world I haven’t considered.
 
Despite having a terrifying experience, not a single part of me would take it back. I feel more aware than ever that this world is nothing like we think it is.

Justine Miller, ArtSci ‘20

***

Here are more stories from Queen’s students who’ve encountered the supernatural.

“I’ve always been one of those people who empathized with ghosts. I first realized this because I thought my childhood best friend, Artie, was real as can be, but my parents said he was only an imaginary playmate.

One day while visiting my Nana, Artie asked me to tell her, ‘It wasn’t [her] fault that he died.’ When I told my Nana this, she broke into tears. Although no one had ever told me, her little brother Artie had died crossing the street with her when she was seven.

When I told her about Artie, she was very supportive and said she believed me. After recounting the message from Artie, I never saw him again. I suppose I helped him move on by telling my nana he forgave her.”

—Riley McMahon, ArtSci ‘21

“I worked in the fundraising department of a retirement community, where I was often alone in the office.

When I started, residents were passing away at a “higher rate than normal,” according to my superiors. This was horrible to begin with but my imagination made it worse.

Over the course of the summer, I heard heavy footsteps above me—strange because elderly people don’t walk heavily.  Plus, the unit above our office was vacant after a recent fire.

Things in the office would appear in different spots than where they were left, and sometimes I’d hear conversations in the empty units.

I also found an alarming number of large bugs in the office—massive moths, spiders, beetles and centipedes—but only when I was alone.

One night, the cupboard doors started to swing open and things fell off my coworkers’ vacant desks. I swear I heard someone whispering to me, but I had to get out of there.

I honestly felt like something was picking on me.

—Anonymous, ArtSci ‘20

“I’ve worked at Fort Henry for a few years now, and this story is just one of the many from my eight months there.

Every Wednesday night, the Fort Henry Guard does a Sunset Ceremony, and once the audience leaves my coworkers and I are in charge of closing the Fort for the night.

One night in my second year, I was instructed to shut the doors in The Schoolroom. The room has three doors, one in the South and two in the East and West. They’re large, heavy, and have big metal bar latches that lock when shut.

When I closed the West door, I heard a huge slam and turned around to see the South door was shut. That was highly unusual, especially since it opens inwards so the wind couldn’t have pushed it. Still, I ignored it and went to shut the East door. When I turned around again, the West door was wide open.

Like I said, these doors have big metal latches. Even if somebody had opened it, they’re extremely loud, so I certainly would’ve heard it. When I walked over to see if anybody was in the next room, it was empty. What’s even creepier was how the room’s temperature randomly started turning ice cold. Then, behind me, I heard the East door open.

I walked straight out and told a rookie employee that our boss had asked him to shut the doors. I didn’t want to go back in.

Jeff McPherson, ArtSci ‘20

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