恐怖故事分享地

Late at night, I was driving the empty last bus back to the depot. Through the rearview mirror, I suddenly saw a woman sitting in the last row with her head down. A chill ran down my spine. I quickly pulled over, turned around, and shouted, "Miss, we've reached the terminal, please get off!" At that moment, the woman in the rearview mirror slowly lifted her head, and from behind me, a cold breath whispered, "Were you calling me?"

Couldn't sleep in the middle of the night, so I texted my sister who was sleeping in the next room: 'Sis, can you get me a glass of water?' A few seconds later, I heard keys at the front door, and my sister walked in with late-night snacks. Just then, a deep voice came from under my bed: 'Okay.'

This is the one and only time in my life I'm certain I saw a ghost. Time: 2:45 AM, over ten years ago Location: Next to the entrance of a stadium attached to a military airport in Taichung (You can still see the guard post on Google Street View as I'm writing this). The incident is roughly described in the image. At the time, there wasn't any sound at all. I was just sitting there, spacing out, waiting for my shift to end, when a shadow appeared on the wall. Not realizing it was a supernatural event, I just thought the inside of the shadow was a bit bright and pretty (?). It wasn't until the shadow completely disappeared into the darkness in front of me that I snapped back to reality. When I looked back, there was nothing there 🤔. Then, I went to the road to check the height of the shadows. Assuming they were about my height, they were indeed moving along the road. After confirming, I happily told the junior soldier who came to relieve me about it, patted his shoulder, and went back to sleep 😂. What I might have seen if I had turned around immediately is one of the things I'm most curious about in my life 😮💨. Unfortunately, perhaps because I was too excited about my first ghost encounter and spread the word too widely, I was transferred elsewhere not long after. But seeing a night sky with no light pollution, where stars had a sense of depth and the moonlight cast shadows, at my new location is another story.

The poster asked their grandmother, "What exactly is that thing?" It's said there's a "long-legged, monkey-like thing" residing in a small shrine. It's been there for a long time and is usually quiet, but it harms people during Obon. It seems to have a name, but speaking its name is taboo, and the grandmother just said, "It's better not to know." Adults don't tell children about its existence because if they become interested, they might "see it." The grandmother continued, explaining that if the ritual fails—for example, if the fire goes out and isn't relit, or if someone sees "that thing"—then before the next Obon, someone in the clan will inevitably die from an inexplicable accident or incident. "F, who died last year, was its victim." F was the poster's cousin. At the end of last year, he was driving on a straight road with good visibility when he suddenly turned the steering wheel and plunged into a river, dying. The cause remains unknown. "So, last year's lantern ceremony failed?" The grandmother said that last year, a relative's child, U, who was responsible for holding the lantern, saw "that thing" midway. Although the family frantically performed an exorcism, it seems they couldn't avoid the consequences. When the poster returned home this time, this year's ceremony had already concluded, and they only went to visit the graves. Unsure if this year's ceremony was completed successfully, they wrote at the end: "Next year, I want to participate and watch it properly myself." - The story isn't long and has concluded~ The title is "The Thing You Shouldn't See," yet the ending says they want to see it properly next year. Even though it clearly means watching the ritual to ensure it's completed successfully, it still gives off a dangerous vibe😆

The Doljabi Old Zhang's youngest son turned one year old, and the family held a grand Doljabi ceremony. Abacuses, brushes, seals, ink pads, and stacks of cash were laid out on the table. Everyone gathered in a circle, filled with laughter and joy, waiting for the baby to crawl over and choose an item. The baby giggled and crawled slowly, eventually stopping in the middle of the table. He didn't grab the money or the brush. Instead, he lifted his tiny, delicate fingers, gently pushed aside the abacus on top, and pulled out a piece of paper that was already yellowed and neatly folded from underneath. Everyone leaned in curiously to see. Old Zhang unfolded the paper. Written in black ink were a few lines of text, the handwriting shaky and uneven, just like a child learning to write: "Dad, I've come back in a different identity this time." "When you buried me under the backyard tree last time, I told you we would meet again." Old Zhang's smile instantly froze on his face. Cold sweat broke out and streamed down. Twenty years ago, he did indeed have an elder son who died young. He had claimed it was from illness, but in reality... At this moment, the baby in his arms slowly raised its head. With a cold gaze that absolutely did not belong to a one-year-old, he stared intently at Old Zhang, opened his mouth, which hadn't even grown all its teeth yet, and in a baby's voice, uttered a single sentence: "Dad, that tree in the backyard has grown really tall."

After my little aunt passed away, the family, following custom, covered her vanity mirror with a red cloth and stored it in the attic of the old house. My cousin, bold and unafraid of superstition, made a bet with his friends one night and snuck into the attic alone, pulling off the red cloth. The mirror only showed his own reflection; everything seemed normal. He mocked his friends for being scared, made a silly face at the mirror, casually threw the red cloth back on, and went downstairs to sleep. The next morning, the family found my cousin dead in his bed, his eyes wide open, his face frozen in that strange, exaggerated grin from the night before. Police arrived to investigate but found no signs of forced entry. The elderly coroner carefully examined the cousin's pupils with a magnifying glass. The coroner's expression instantly turned to extreme fear, and his hand trembled, dropping his tools. Someone leaned in to look— Reflected clearly in the cousin's pupils was the scene from the attic the previous night: when he covered the mirror with the red cloth, the 'him' in the mirror didn't turn away with him. Instead, the 'him' in the mirror was pressed against the glass, hands pushing hard against the red cloth, a cold smile on his face as he watched the cousin outside. And the real cousin... had actually been trapped inside the mirror all along.

Xiao Ming moved into a basement studio apartment with unbelievably cheap rent. On his first day there, he realized the room was extremely strange. Every night at 2 AM, the double bed in the center of the room would start spinning wildly, accompanied by eerie screams. When his friends heard about it, they were terrified and urged him to move out immediately. Xiao Ming sighed and said, "Move out? I signed a two-year contract. Nowadays, poverty is scarier than ghosts." Two years later, a friend asked about Xiao Ming's recent situation. Xiao Ming smiled and said, "Later, I outsourced the basement to an amusement park as a haunted spinning bed attraction. Now it doesn't even need electricity, and I can collect ticket fees every day. Even the ghosts were forced to become my employees."

A doctor finished his late-night emergency room shift and was heading home. He met a nurse at the elevator and they went down together. The elevator reached the first floor but didn't stop, instead continuing down to the third basement level (the morgue). The elevator doors opened, and a little girl with her head down stood outside, wanting to get in. The doctor's face turned ashen, and he frantically mashed the close button, blocking the girl. The nurse, confused, asked, "Why didn't you let her in?" Wiping cold sweat, the doctor said, "Hospital policy requires that the deceased have a red ribbon tied to their right hand. That girl had one on hers..." Upon hearing this, the nurse slowly raised her own right hand and smiled chillingly, "Was it... a red ribbon like this?"

In an antique shop at the end of an old street alley, sat an unnamed wooden clock. The clock face had no hands, and its internal gears had long since rusted and seized. Years ago, the greedy owner, Old Zhang, to take over the shop, locked his severely ill and paralyzed old partner in the back room late one night, faked an accidental death, and swallowed all the family fortune. Before he died, the old partner, like a madman, dug his fingers into the wooden casing of the clock, leaving five bloody marks. Ever since then, Old Zhang often woke up startled from nightmares. One night at 3 AM, the antique clock, long since broken, suddenly let out a heavy and monotonous 'Dong—Dong—' sound in the silent shop, ringing exactly three times. Old Zhang broke out in a cold sweat. He summoned a craftsman overnight to dismantle all the gears inside the clock, and even used chains to lock the clock door shut. However, the next night at 3 AM, the clear chiming sound rang out punctually again. Old Zhang, like a madman, smashed open the lock, only to find the inside of the clock empty, with only a few mottled strands of hair hanging on the wooden mallet. The third night, the bell chimed again. Old Zhang could no longer bear the pressure. Terrified, he rushed into the back room to pack his belongings and flee. The moment he stepped into the back room, the heavy wooden door suddenly slammed shut from the outside, locking itself in the iron frame. No matter how hard he pounded and cried for help, outside the door, only the antique clock continued to chime, one after another, at 3 AM. When the police arrived the next day, the back room door was intact. Old Zhang was found curled up in a corner, long dead. His hands were clenched tightly against the wall, his fingernails completely broken, leaving five deep bloody marks.

A new dad just woke up from a nap in his bed in the master bedroom. He turned on the computer on his desk to check the monitor feed from the baby's room next door. On the screen, his wife was sitting gently by the crib, softly humming a lullaby to soothe the baby. The dad smiled faintly at the heartwarming scene. Just then, he heard a key in the front door, and his wife walked in happily with microwave meals she had just bought... Who was the 'person' humming in the monitor?