8 True Horror Stories from College

Cool Shit
// October 30, 2016

8 True Horror Stories from College

What follows is a collection of first-hand accounts, ranging from weird & spooky to truly terrifying. Similarities between the stories have led me to believe that they are indeed real, and that there’s really more hiding in the dark than we understand… I figured this would be a nice Halloween treat for our readers. Some of them are quite long, others are quite short, so feel free to jump around (though the longer ones are better if you ask me). Enjoy.

#8 One Night with Devil Girl


Here’s a quick one that I overheard on one of the university shuttles the first month of college.
A guy meets a dime at a bar, dances with her for a bit, and winds up going home to her place. They bang, naturally, and go to sleep. He has a weird dream, and wakes up in the middle of the night. He opens his eyes, and notices a flickering light above him on the ceiling. He sits up, and to his confusion, finds the girl he came home with naked on the floor, her eyes closed, whispering some odd phrase over and over. In front of her are a bunch of candles, random bones that looked like they came from small animals, and a pentagram she’d drawn on the floor. The guy shouts “What the fuck?!” jumps out of bed, and runs out of the room. According to the story, the guy ran from her dorm all the way to his (which are half a mile from each other) in nothing but his boxers.

He didn’t remember her name, and by the next day, couldn’t remember what number her room was. He never saw her again after that.

I thought I was overhearing an urban legend, so I asked the guy who was talking about it where he heard it. He said it was his roommate, the guy sitting next to him, completely silent.

Be careful out there. You never know who’s out there…

#7 Who opened the door?


(Police find someone hiding in the closet of any apartment that was robbed a year earlier)
This story comes from my neighbors, junior year. We all lived on a short cross-street, between two main roads, which consisted of three houses separated by driveways, and a fourth house that was abandoned. One night, my neighbors (three girls), went out for happy hour, and returned home after drinking for a bit. Their house had three entrances. One on the front that they rarely used, one on the side by the driveway, and one in the back.

The group walked in the side door, and one of the girls, Carla, went upstairs to grab a coat from her bedroom. The other two, Jen and Alicia, stayed downstairs and started playing music.

Jen went to grab some food from the kitchen while Alicia picked looked through her phone for another song to blast through the stereo. In the kitchen, Jen noticed something odd… There was food all over, and all the cabinets were open. Along with that, there was a breeze coming from the direction of the back door. Jen walked over to the door, and noticed it was unlatched, still open about an inch. She immediately ran back to the other room, grabbed Alicia and told her to call the cops and because it looks like they’ve been robbed. At that moment, Jen came down stairs, saying all her drawers were open and someone stole her grandma’s necklace.

Cops showed up and asked a few questions. Carla said that her grandma’s necklace had been stolen, but they didn’t know what else. One cop asked the girls to stay outside with the other officer while the he went inside. Jen asked why, and the officer replied, “The burglar might still be in the house…”

Sure enough, he was. The officer walked out of the house with a large man in handcuffs. They found him in Carla’s closet… If she hadn’t noticed all her drawers open and went looking for her necklace, she would’ve gone straight to the closet for her jacket, and come face to face with the man who was hiding in there… Apparently the guy had robbed the apartment a year before, and had made a copy of the house key so he could come and go as he pleased… He confessed everything, even mentioning that he had been in the house multiple times, including once when all the girls were sleeping… and the only way he knew they were sleeping was because he opened the doors to all their rooms…

#6 They’re Coming…


Here’s a short one I myself experienced senior year of college. It was during finals week, and I attempted to do back to back all-nighters. The first one was fine, but on the second, I drank about three pots of coffee between 5pm and midnight. I was wired, but in a bad way. I was literally shaking from the caffeine, but couldn’t focus at all. By midnight, I’d written, thrown out, and rewritten about three pages of a six page paper, and realized I needed to nap or I would just waste more time writing incoherent blabber. I turned off the light, got into bed and passed out.

Something to understand here is that the right side of my bed was pushed up against the wall. On the opposite wall there was a window where a street lamp from outside shined in, projecting the light onto the wall next to my bed. When I awoke, I was facing the illuminated wall. I assume it was around 3 or 4 in the morning, but I can’t be sure. I heard my brother calling me from the hallway. “Rich?” He called. My bedroom door was open and I could hear the door creak as he pushed it through to whisper. “Rich? Are you awake?”

Now, something to understand is that my brother has insomnia, and as a result he has always been a night owl, which became a big bother to me during high-school. He would constantly come into my room late at night to ask me a question about something or tell me about something ridiculous he saw on television or some bullshit that could definitely wait til morning, and wasn’t important enough to disturb my sleep over, so it pissed me off quite a bit.

The first time I heard him call from the hallway, I immediately thought, “Oh fuck me, of course he would do this on a night when I haven’t slept in almost two days, and have a huge final to finish tomorrow.” I remember being so angry, and I resolved to pretend to be asleep so the would leave me alone. When I heard him slowly opening the door, I was even more angry, but closed my eyes so he would go away. He assumed I was awake and walked in. I could hear and feel his footsteps on the carpet as he walked in, and could feel him standing behind me. I even opened my eyes and saw his shadow on the wall in front of me that was illuminated by the light from the streetlamp. He said something like, “Rich, I know you’re awake… stop pretending to be asleep…” Suddenly, something clicked like a lightning bolt to my brain. My brother didn’t live with me. He lived at home with my parents. This couldn’t be him in my room. I was bugging the fuck out, and begin to drool and shake violently, almost like I was seizing, but I couldn’t move. I heard low, deep laughter coming from behind me. This wasn’t my brother. It was something sinister and evil. He stopped laughing, then whispered, “They’re coming.”

Despite the drool and the uncontrollable, violent body spasms, I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed impulsively, like I’d never prayed before. The shaking stopped, and I opened my eyes. The shadow was gone. I’ll never forget that night, and while I’d like to blame most of it on sleep-paralysis caused by my caffeine-filled brain, something in my heart tells me it was all real.

#5 The One Night Stand


The following story comes from my roommate, second year at the University at Buffalo. We lived in this creepy, run-down apartment that we all swore was haunted… now I guess we know the truth.

It was Halloween night, ironically, and my roommate and I had spent the past few hours drinking way too much at a fraternity party that evening. I left early and woke up at some time around 4am to a loud bang. I assumed that was when my roommate got home, but I didn’t know the full extent of what transpired until the next day… That next morning he was panicked as all hell, stammering and freaking out. I’ll try my best to describe the events the way he told them to me.

Roommate: Dude, I don’t know how to explain this — this house is definitely fucking haunted…

Me: (laughing at him) What happened?

Roommate: Last night I woke up in the middle of the night. I partially blacked-out so I wasn’t even sure what time I got home. I was facing my wall in my bed, when suddenly I felt the girl I brought home big-spooning me, cuddling close to me with her arm wrapped around me. I heard her yawn and let out a quiet giggle before she started playing with my hair and playfully drawing lines down my ribcage and around my back with her fingers…”

Me: Who did you bring home last night?

His face turned white.

Roommate: No one.

I was pretty confused, and he could tell.

Roommate: I was laying there in bed while she traced lines around my back with her nails when it suddenly dawned on me. I couldn’t remember who I brought home.

He smiled an uneasy smile for a second before his face shifted back into this look of terror.

Roommate: I was actually trying not to laugh… I was thinking it would be so awkward in the morning — but then it suddenly clicked. I didn’t bring anyone home. I had stumbled home by myself after walking home with one of the other guys… But I could still feel the hands on my back, someone’s legs wrapping around mine, and I freaked the fuck out. Suddenly, I felt two legs wrap tightly around mine… The nails started digging into my back, clawing at me and wrenching my hair out of my skull. I was so scared I was paralyzed. I didn’t know what to do. I was utterly terrified. I just started praying, like I haven’t done in years. Just praying that God would save me. Suddenly, I finally gained the strength to do something. You know that hammer I keep on the hook behind my door? I jumped out of bed, grabbed the hammer and flicked on the light. There was no one there.

I just looked at him, we were both bewildered.

Me: Uhh— So what the fuck? What did you do?

Roommate: Well I just continued to freak the fuck out, went to the bathroom, got some water and went back to bed with the lights on…

Me: Do you think maybe the whole thing was just a dream?

Roommate: I thought so at first… I got up and took a piss and figured it was all a bad dream. Until I got back in my room, and found that hammer on my bedside table…

(TL;DR – Roommate comes home drunk, gets attacked by an unknown assailant in the dark, and when he turns the lights on, there’s no one there…)

#4 Caesar, is that you?


Here’s one from my friend Toni. I’ll try to explain it from his point of view, as he told it to me.

“When I was younger, I lived in a house in Queens. It was a decent sized place — one of those century-old houses with great crown molding and a real rustic feel. I come from a very religious family, and this isn’t my only experience with–” He paused briefly before shaking his head and continuing, “with spirits or whatever.” It seemed like whatever happened had a lasting, chilling effect. “Anyway… I was ten years old when it happened. I woke up sometime in the middle of the night. My mom was a nurse and worked late shifts at the hospital, so she wasn’t home, and my brother Caesar who’s much older than me was just starting college at the time, so he didn’t live with us, but occasionally stopped in to grab something.” He paused again. “I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep, so I went to grab some water from the kitchen. The way my house was set up was that the stairs from the second floor went down into a little hallway that connected to the kitchen. You would turn left at the end of the hallway to get to the sink, and from there, looking forward, you could see through the doorway to our living room…”

“There were streetlamps outside that filtered through the kitchen windows, so I didn’t have to turn the lights on to see. Other than that the rest of the house was mostly dark, but you could still make out the shapes of most of the furniture and stuff, like the couch and coffee table in my living room. I went down the stairs, grabbed a cup and went to the sink. Before I even turned the sink on, I looked through the doorway to the living room, and could see someone standing in there, in the dark… I started to freak out, thinking it was a burglar or something, so I grabbed a kitchen knife. I calmed down a bit as I realized it might just be my brother, so I called out, “Caesar? Is that you?”

“The shadowy figure turned to face me. It had glowing red eyes and stared straight at me. I bugged the fuck out. “Yes Toni, it’s me, Caesar” it said, in EXACTLY my brother’s voice! — but I knew it wasn’t my brother. All of the sudden it rushed towards me, floating over the coffee table like it just went through it! That’s when I knew it wasn’t a person, but a demon. I raced up the stairs to my mom’s room where she had a bunch of candles and a statue of the Virgin Mary. I locked the door, lit a candle, fell to my knees and just kept praying. I was crying so hard I was basically screaming my prayers. I did this for what seemed like twenty minutes, just yelling my prayers through the tears. I eventually stopped yelling, but kept praying, and lit all of the candles around the stature because I was too afraid to go near the door and turn on the light. I sat there on the floor, praying, facing the statue of the Virgin Mary who was protecting me, and eventually I fell asleep.”

“When my mom got home from work at like six in the morning, she woke me up, and scolded me for lighting a bunch of candles while she wasn’t home — typical Spanish mom shit. She asked me what happened, and I started crying again explaining it to her. She hugged me and told me to calm down, and to remember that Jesus and the Virgin Mary will always protect us from danger. And they always have.”

#3 The Buffalo Haunting


Here’s another from my roommate from sophomore year. It happened a few months after the first haunting in our crappy Buffalo apartment. Anyway, he wrote this one down. I did some slight editing (his grammar sucks), but nothing was removed, added or exaggerated.

“It was the beginning of December 2013, and the Thanksgiving break had taken my mind off the bizarre occurrence from the past month. A little comfort food, family, and the warmth of southern New York does wonders for the mind.

Like the first story, I’d been shitfaced. Horribly shitfaced. Which has led me to see a pattern here, but never the less, these two stories scare the living shit out of me. I’d read somewhere that writing things down helps you get them out of your head, like bad dreams, so I decided it was about time to put them up here…

You know that moment when you wake up and open your eyes for the first time? Maybe you blink a few times before things come into focus. At first, everything’s fuzzy… Next time you wake up after a full night’s sleep, instead of opening your eyes fully and blinking a few times, try to just open your eyes slightly, just to the point where you can still see your eyelashes hanging over your pupils. Everything’s blurry and out of focus, like looking at an object through an old glass full of water.

It was early in the morning. I’d just woken up, and I knew I was horribly hungover. Before even opening my eyes, I stretched my arms back past my shoulders. In the middle of a yawn I opened my eyes slightly, squinting, just as I’d mentioned before. There was a figure at the foot of my bed, about five feet tall with its head cocked to one side, in an instant I opened my eyes all the way. They hadn’t adjusted to the light and everything was still blurry. The figure turned towards me, it’s huge mouth opened in a warped shape as it let out a screaming howl, like the loudest cat yowl you’ve ever heard. I lashed my hands to my ears and clamped my eyes, screaming and praying like before. I blinked my eyes quickly — everything still blurry — he was still there! I prayed and prayed, all of this happening in the length of a few seconds. I almost couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes again just at my sheer fright of his appearance. I heard knocking, the scream stopped, I opened my eyes, someone or something was furiously knocking at my door, trying to get in despite the lock.
“Hey, you okay?” It was my roommate.

The figure was gone.

Stammering and sitting up, I said I was fine and just had a really bad dream. I got out of bed and met my roommate at the door, who said he heard me screaming. I got a drink and sat down at the table in the kitchen. I think I stayed out of my room all day. Even though it was blurry, I don’t think I’ll ever get that image out of my head.

What looked like a ten year old boy with his clothes torn up, his head too close to his right shoulder to be normal, possibly a broken spine. And no eyes. Just skin and an extended forehead.

I’d like for everything to have ended there, telling you it was all definitely just irrational fears… sleep paralysis… a hallucination brought on by an alcohol binge. I’d like to tell you it was a metaphor for how much I hated the school I was attending at the time, and for all the negative energy from a roommate who hated me.

I’d like to tell you I didn’t mention this to my friend, a Buffalo native, who thought I made the whole thing up… and then showed me a news article… involving a thirteen year old boy who was killed when he darted out between two parked cars from the sidewalk on his skateboard, just outside my house, and was run over by a truck. And I’ll definitely leave out the part about how his face was splattered across the pavement, and how it was so bad that the police had to wait for a blood test to find out the boy’s identity. Also… this happened just a few years before I moved in…


#2 Wrong Floor.


In one of my film classes third year, our professor assigned a project in which we created short documentaries. One team of students chose “New York Hauntings” as the topic for their film, and they interviewed several people who’d had ghost encounters, including a student from our class, Otto. This is his story.

When Otto was young, his family lived in a ratty old apartment building in Brooklyn. It was known for dangerous gang violence in and around the building, which included murders, burglary, and all kinds of horrible things. Otto said his mom made him carry a knife from the time he was 7, and he was not allowed to take the elevator to any floor other than the one his family lived on.

To make things worse, the 6th floor was supposedly haunted. There was talk of a “Bag Lady” who was caught in the crossfire between two gang members trying to shoot each other. She died on the floor of the hallway… There had also been a home invasion years back — gang related of course, and two people were killed. Otto lived on the 8th floor, and he thought about the murders every now and then when he was in the elevator…

One day when Otto was around 13 years old, he had just gotten out of school and walked into his building. He got in the elevator alone, which was good because his mom told him not to get in the elevator with strangers. On his way up, the elevator jerked suddenly, and stopped… on the 6th floor… The doors opened, and no one was there. He clicked the door close button, but nothing happened. Thinking that the old elevator was just broken, Otto decided he would just take the stairs up the next two levels. The stairs were located at the opposite end of the hallway.
Otto says that the second he stepped out of the elevator, he knew something was horribly wrong. He immediately felt someone’s eyes on him. He walked a few feet, but the presence he felt overwhelmed him with pure and utter fear. He turned around… What he saw paralyzed him. Just to the side of the elevator was a shadow of a person, almost eight feet tall. All black, almost made of smoke, and as soon as he looked at it, it let out an inhuman roar and began chasing him.

Screaming and crying, he bolted down the hallway, looking back to see the thing still chasing him and getting closer. He threw open the door to the stairwell, ascended to his floor, burst through another door and ran screaming into his apartment. His mom ran to him when he came in. He was hysterical, screaming and crying, mumbling incessantly because he was completely terrified. Suddenly, Otto fainted.

When he awoke, his mother asked him to explain what happened… He told her everything and her eyes went wide with fear. While she believed it was a malevolent spirit, Otto’s mom took him to a doctor just to make sure. As his mom explained what happened to the doctor, the doctor first blamed Otto’s overactive imagination… That’s when she said something Otto would never forget… She told that doctor that when Otto ran into the apartment screaming and crying… he was speaking in latin…

#1 Where’s Veronica?


This story comes from a friend of mine I met freshman year. A high school friend of his and a bunch of other girls were having a slumber party one night in late 2007 to celebrate their friend Jessica’s birthday. One of the girls, named Veronica, had only recently moved to the area, and quickly became friends with Jessica, along with many of the girls in her class. She was kind, funny, and a little weird, but nothing out of the ordinary.

As it was October, the girls had planned to watch a bunch of horror movies, but before they got started, Amber, another of Jessica’s friends, pulled out an Ouija board from her backpack. When Veronica saw it, she immediately reacted in fear. “My friend gave me this game that let’s you talk to evil spiritssss.” Amber said excitedly, grabbing the party’s attention, “Who Wants to Play?”
“I don’t know…” Said one of the girls, to which Amber replied, “Oh come on, it’s not real, what’re you, scared?” Of course, the group of young girls felt the typical high-school peer pressure, and no one wanted to back down from the challenge. Still, the room was silent. “I’m in!” Jessica said, breaking the tension, and the other girls chimed in. The group headed to the basement, with Veronica following hesitantly.

Once in the basement, they turned out all the lights and lit a single candle, which they placed on the table along with the Ouija board. The girls began to play the game, first saying the Ouija prayer to get the attention of nearby spirits. Veronica held hands with the other girls, and whispered the prayer along with them. Soon, ancient spirits were telling the girls the names of their crushes, that one of them would be prom queen, and other questions teenage girls would ask. One by one the girls took turns asking for dating advice from the spirit world, then, when it got to Amber’s turn, she asked a question that made all of the girls freak out. “If the devil exists, show yourself.” She said. Veronica freaked out along with the other girls, who immediately began yelling at Amber. “Why would you say that?!” One girl said. Another shouted, “What the Hell Amber?!” The girls scared themselves so bad, they called the game off and ran upstairs to watch a movie.

At some point during the movie, Veronica, who hadn’t said a word since they played the game, got up to go to the bathroom. She returned shortly, asking Jessica if there was another bathroom she could use, as the one on the first floor was occupied. “There’s one upstairs, but my parents are sleeping, so just use the one in the basement.” Jessica replied.
The rest of the girls continued to watch the movie, 13 Ghosts or something like that. When the movie ended, about 45 minutes later, one of the girls noticed Veronica’s absence. “Where’s Veronica?” Amber asked. “She said she was going to the bathroom down stairs, has she still not come back yet?” Jessica replied. A few of the girls began to giggle, saying she was taking a long crap or something. Jessica told them to stop making fun of Veronica, and headed down into the basement to check on her.

When Jessica reached the bottom of the staircase, all of the lights in the basement were off except one coming from the direction of the bathroom. She stood there for a second, and noticed what sounded like someone talking. “Veronica?” She called, but there was no response, only a continued whispering coming from the direction of the bathroom. Jessica turned the corner and saw the bathroom door, half open, with Veronica’s legs hanging out. Freaked out that she may have fallen and hurt herself, Jessica ran to the bathroom to see what happened. When she got to the door, she screamed violently in horror. The rest of the girls immediately ran down the stairs to see what was going on, Jessica immediately ran through them, hysterical, and bolted up the stairs.

Amber saw Veronica’s legs sticking out from the bathroom door, and heard the whispering. She walked over to the door and looked inside. Veronica was on the floor, speaking in some indiscernible language, while carving strange symbols into the wall in the blood gushing from her broken fingernail. Her babbling began to turn into an angry shouting in what Amber could only describe to the others as a man’s voice… She reached down to tap Veronica, and see if she could help her. In a second, Veronica curled her head backwards at an impossible angle over her shoulders to face Amber and exploded with a vicious, booming scream. Her eyes were wide open and completely white.

All of the girls screamed and ran upstairs. When they got there, Jessica was in hysterics, trying to explain to her mom what was going on. Jessica’s mom immediately called Veronica’s mother, who broke down crying. Apparently this had happened before… several times in-fact, during Veronica’s childhood. Her parents had even hired priests on two separate occasions to give Veronica exorcisms. …Apparently, they weren’t 100% effective.

(TL;DR – Girl’s play with an Ouija board at a slumber party and awaken a dormant demon in one of the party guests.)


We hope you enjoyed these stories! Tell us about your own haunted experiences in the comments!
Happy Halloween!

Cool Shit, Litness

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