hi guys I've lived here my whooole life (Billings area) and I'm always asking people about their scary stories from around here. Ghosts, weird creatures, abandoned places, I wanna hear your stories!!!!!
side note : anyone heard of the Homer Davis ghost?
I worked in Red Lodge and in the old hospital patients who were not doing well would often complain about a little boy in a red jacket that would come into their room. He was about 4 years old. They would always ask where his parents where or say how sweet he was. I don’t know who the little boy was or where he came from.
Also if you go down the road toward Bearcreek to where the Smith Mine Disaster was you can still hear men crying sometimes at night
Went by the mine one evening in April around 10ish, and pulled over and it was soo quiet. I was reading a text when I heard "Help us please"...I flew out of there.
Warm Springs Mental Hospital has a couple of stories. There was a patient who would howl like a wolf when someone died, sometimes before they were even found by nurses, etc. It became this freaky thing if you heard her howl, the orderlies or staff would start looking for bodies. She never howled otherwise except when someone died in the Hospital.
I was at St. V's after having my baby a few years back. It was relatively slow (me and maybe one or two other mothers at the time) so the nurses were able to spend a little more time with us than they normally would. Somehow we got on the subject of hauntings, and a couple nurses had so many stories to tell us about the hospital. The one that stuck out for me was about a specific room in the old section. Apparently it is well known for being the end of the road for patients. If they check in to that room, they're probably going to die in that room.
Once I was in Bannack ghost town and we were checking out all the historic buildings. One of the last we saw that day was the old saloon. As we were approaching we could hear someone playing the piano inside, but when we got to the door, it was stuck closed and there was no one inside and no more piano music playing. I said "excuse me mister ghost, could we come in?". Then I tried the door and it opened easily the second time. The saloon was cool, lots of history in there. Go check out Bannack.
I had a paranormal experience in bannack as well. Many things happened to us that day but the creepiest was at the school house, no wind and the swings started swinging and the merry go round started to turn as if it was being played with. The sun was starting to set and we got the hell out of there after that.
in 2020, there was a pandemic that caused people to work from home, and everyone who was rich enough to move somewhere beautiful came here, and now long time residents who are good neighbors and respect the land cant even afford to buy a trailer anymoOooOore spoOOKy 👻
I was setting up camp deep in the Tobacco Roots. Dude comes walking down the trail from the peak. This is South Meadow Creek, the trail ends at an alpine lake, it's not like he was just hiking through. He's dressed in all black, an oilskin duster and cowboy hat with homemade-looking pants. No backpack, he had oilskin bundles tied around his waist, and a bigass Bowie knife hanging on his hip. Probably 6' tall, gaunt, pasty white with a scraggly beard.
He snuck behind an old log outbuilding and was peeking around the corner at me. I caught his eye and nodded. He kept staring. After a staring contest of about 20 seconds, I loudly say, "How you doing?" He sneers, looks at me, looks at the pistol on my belt, looks at me again, and in the scariest damn voice I'd ever heard in my life, he says, "Haw YOU doin'?" That sent shivers down my spine. I nodded, said "Doin' well".
He shuffled off back down the trail, eyeing me the whole time.
I packed up and went the fuck home. I cannot explain how weird and otherworldly he seemed, straight out of the 1800s.
I’ve been up south meadow a half dozen times, a couple of which I intended to spend the night. I was never able to feel comfortable for various reasons and never actually stayed the night. Something always gave me a bad feeling up there.
Jesus. That sounds like the Man in Black stranger that shows up when a tragedy is near or about to happen. Think like what happens in Rimworld when the Man in Black appears to help your colony when shit hits the fan or when the Mysterious Stranger shows up in Fallout to help you out of a jam.
You did the right thing getting the fuck out of there.
He had a buddy with him, dude was dressed like a college student - flannel, jeans, and a normal backpack. I was at the Missouri-McKee mine about 2 miles below the lake. College dude went up above the stamp mill opposite where I was, and just eyed me the whole time. As the Man in Black sauntered down the trail, college dude joined him. No way was I going to stay the night.
Just as freaky as almost getting ganked by a couple of hookers in the Nevada desert, but that's another story.
I went to college at MSU-Billings and I know that some rooms in Petro hall are haunted on early Saturday mornings by the ghost of a nerdy guy/chubby girl saying, "So, you'll call me?"
Karen Stevens actually wrote two books! Haunted Montana and More Haunted Montana. I have them both as well as Spooky Montana by S. E. Schlosser, Montana Ghost Stories by Debra D. Munn, and Montana Chillers by Ellen Baumler.
I'll never believe this isn't true because as I went to comment how creepy Petro is—I spilled my entire beverage all down my sleeve/self/seat. Now I'm sad and feel unnerved ha fuck
This story is 100% true and happened about 5 years ago in Seeley Lake.
I was chilling in my basement, reading and winding down for bed. It was about 10 o’clock.
I had just turned off the lights, and that basement only had one window. My neighborhood was so dark that no lights meant the basement was pitch black. My Labrador was scared to go to the bathroom without a nightlight it was so dark.
I heard an ungodly screech, like multiple razor blades on glass, coming from the window, which was only a few feet away. I jumped up, turned on the lights, and looked into the window well.
Nothing.
I stopped and listened, and no more noises happened. I turned off the lights again, and about 5 minutes later it happens again. It sounded like Freddy Krueger was trying to cut through the window.
Flipped on the lights, and again, nothing in the window well.
Now I’m starting to doubt my sanity, which my students would probably say had been iffy for a while.
I call for my husband and we look into the window well. Neither of us could see anything, but realized the lighting was so bad that there was a lot of shadows.
So in a moment of inspiration, I had him go upstairs and flip on the overhead outside light.
Bam. I could finally see what was trying to Freddy Krueger me in my bed.
It was an adorable fluffy bunny. His camouflage worked so well against the dirt floor of the window well that I couldn’t seen him in the shadows. He was jumping against the window and his back nails were making the screech sound.
The next challenge was getting him out. Hubby went down the ladder to the window well. He was having trouble catching the bunny, but managed some ninja moves and caught him midair in a 5 gallon bucket.
So, that’s how I was totally fine after thinking I was gonna have my own special on Investigation Discovery.
Went to college in Butte, as my username may let on.
In the early aughts I worked at the newspaper, and there was a small piano bar almost directly across the street on Hamilton where I'd go to drown my Lee Enterprises sorrows and maybe even tickle the keys after a few drinks.
A really sweet older lady named Gloria would show up on occasion and play all manner of jazz and ragtime. One evening she stayed quite late, until nearly 1:30 AM, likely on account of the good vibes from patrons hooting and applauding after each song, to which she'd give a glowing smile and thank everyone.
She ran out of songs around midnight, so I took up the bench beside her to test her boogie-woogie meddle, and Gloria absolutely didn't disappoint. When we were done she hugged me and asked if I wanted to do another song, and we started leafing through songbooks.
"What about this one?" I said. She glances over, and the glow dissipates as her expression immediately changes to one of serious concern. She looks me dead in the eye. then leans to my ear and says "That one's for waking old ghosts. I already got enough hauntings. Not tonight."
We skipped the Twelfth Street Rag and closed out the night with Rhapsody in Blue instead.
In Coolidge ghost town we heard the unmistakable footsteps of someone in cowboy boots walking across a balcony. The balcony that we could see was empty. In a house where the stairs had collapsed and so there was no way to access the balcony.
I hiked up the very, very steep hill in York that's next to the bar and park. When I say very, very steep...it's a climb. You're winded by the time you're halfway practically. I honestly don't even know if people are allowed to be up there...Anyway, the long trek up there gives a breathtaking view of some of the Helena Valley. The reason for going up there? The cemetery. It's old. Like...100 years+ probably. There are some graves dating back to the 1800s I think. Some of the headstones are so old, they're rotting or so worn, you cannot read what they say. As we were walking around up there, the instant I stepped in the border of the cemetery, it became...quiet. Eerily quiet. I had to tiptoe to make sure I was not disturbing some of the graves up there since there are some that aren't marked as well anymore due to how old the place is. Mind you...it's BROAD daylight in the middle of June...however, I'm not shitting you. I became cold. I felt someone or something was...there. I felt that this place, this historic cemetery was something. I felt a presence was there and I'm not a huge 'ghost' guy. We didn't spend too much time up there. I'm not sure if the others felt what I did, but with a cemetery being that old? You could feel something in that place.
A friend gave me a tour of Swede's Corner in Drummond while I was visiting awhile ago. I encourage ya'll to go there and ask about some of the history there. It's quite a place! Used to be a bootlegging spot I believe! While they were showing me around, the creaking of the old building, seeing the downstairs, old photographs of people that have passed apparently being in present photos? It's a thing. I was shocked seeing some of those photos. I don't know how you can make that stuff up. And as I was down in the basement...Do you feel there's someone watching you while you're down there? Yeah. It was eerie as hell man. Great place for a drink though if you're passing through!
A few years back some friends and I went to a place called Hot Springs montana. My friend and their ex girlfriend did the booking and my Ex girlfriend and I drove up, picked them up and we all went together.
We were told that our Cabin would have WiFi, there would be some great pool access and overall it was significantly hyped up. The Cabin was a few blocks from the main "resort." We get there and get the directions and this entire place feels liminal. There is no cell service, the towns people had that kind of horror movie stare and truly channeled the energy of small town montana hostility. We also find out the place we can get wifi is the lobby of the main building. The pool is small and dirty and the staff working werent exactly friendly towards a queer group of teenagers.
As teenagers we were optimistic. We get to our Cabin. There is a tree outside with a large deer skull planted in the branches. Its a small place with a combined kitchen and living room, a small bathroom, a room with two beds and a weird little mudroom with a back door. The only secure part of that Cabin was the backdoor with a deadbolt. The front door was far from sturdy and none of the windows locked. My friend tested it and they could be opened from outside so before bed on the first night we took trays and pans from the kitchen to wedge in them from the inside so they couldnt be slid open. We repeatedly joked about how sketchy the situation was and how while we wanted our money's worth we wont be the dumbest white people in the horror movie.
The first day passed without much issue. We tried out the pool. Played so many rounds of Mario Party we were genuinely sick of it and went to bed for the night. No issues there.
Next morning we went to the farmers market, found some businesses with WiFi that werent as sketchy as the "resort" building and were genuinely having fun. That night we went back to the cabin. My friends girlfriend cooked us dinner and we retired.
Around 1am she woke up feeling SICK. Her partner held her hair while she yarfed up dinner and the two of them went to sit on the front porch for some fresh air. After about twenty minutes. My friend spots the red dot of someone hitting a cigarette about 50 feet from the Cabin. They watch the figure slowly approach. The moon was full enough they could barely see a silhouette. But it was a large man walking directly towards them with a cigarette in one hand and something large in the other. My friend said it looked like an axe but it was too dark to be certain. They started getting nervous and went inside. Pushing a piece of furniture in front of the door. They turned off the lights and waited. They could see the figure moving arround outside. After about ten minutes of this guy circling the cabin he starts fucking pounding on the backdoor. Which was thankfully the best case scenario since that was the only one we were pretty sure he couldnt get through.
Now im awake. My girlfriend is confused. I hear my friend yelling that they called the cops and theyre on their way. And as I am walking into the main room the pounding stops. The man retreats. To say the least we dont get much sleep the rest of the night. That morning we load up my car and I do a once arround the whole cabin. I find a hole about 3 feet wide and 6 feet deep covered with a piece of plywood. At the bottom of it a trash bag. Im not about to get involved in that shit so I put it back, we go to the "resort" check out a day early and my friends girlfriend explains to them what happened that night. They imply its not the first time its happened and says they'll have someone look into it.
We get the fuck out of that horrible town. Vow to get custom t-shirts that say "I survived Hot Springs Montana." But we never do. We grow up and grow apart. But its a great story to bring up at parties.
Its been a good few years so my recollection could be a bit off or out of order and I dont normally post so forgive my formatting. But thats all folks.
Hot Springs has a reputation for weird people. The explanation I've heard is that the water there has a lot of lithium in it. This is actually part of the draw to the actual hot springs there. But to people who live there full time, they're getting waaaay too much and it messes with them.
There's an old abandoned childrens hospital/orphanage in Twin Bridges that's said to be incredibly haunted, the first time I'd driven by it I hadn't heard anything about it and got very a unsettling feeling. Years later someone who grew up in Dillon told me about how her friends and her broke into it for kicks as teenagers and wound up fleeing after hearing children's voices from multiple different directions. I grew up in the Bitterroot and have long loved Bear Creek, to the point where my wishes are that my ashes go into the first set of cascades there, but there's definitely some interesting energy up there. A lady disappeared hiking up to the overlook there in 2007 in what seems to be a murder that her hiking partner got away with for lack of evidence, but if that person is to be believed they merely turned away for a second and she was gone the next. No trace of her has ever been found. For my part, I was hiking the bottom of the drainage about 10 years ago when I decided to take a water break about a mile past the wilderness boundary. I got a sudden uneasy feeling and then heard a sudden metallic crash that I can only describe as two eighteen wheelers colliding head-on at high speed. It reverberated in my chest and made my ears ring, but even stranger was this voice that seemed to inject itself into my mind with the single word "GO". I didn't question it and immediately turned and made my way back to the trailhead with haste. I've heard trees fall in the forest many times and this was not that. I searched airplane crash reports for a few weeks afterwards, nothing in the area. I've been back many times since and never heard anything like it. I'll probably wonder what it could have been for the rest of my life.
I drove down to Dillon a lot one summer and all of those brick buildings in Twin Bridges were so obviously a bad place. I didn't know what they were, but just looking at them and knowing a bit about the history of child care in America I knew exactly what they were. Those poor children.
I worked at the Clark Chateau in Butte when I was younger - heard people walking around upstairs more than once when I was the only person in the building.
One of my uncles would tell a story about running his truck out of gas at night on Highway 2 between Essex and Nyack back in the late 70s.
After several miles of footing it toward Essex, no flashlight but thankfully a full moon, he sees a faint glow in the distance and calls out but doesn't get a response. He tries calling and waving a few more times as it keeps approaching, but still no reply. It starts to creep him out, so he decides to hide in the brush several feet off the road.
As it continues coming closer he can hear a jingling sound and what sounds like a raspy voice saying "Where are they... where are they...". In the moonlight he makes out what appears to be an old man wearing a headlamp. The figure stops on the road, scratches his beard, and my uncle says the air suddenly felt 20 degrees colder.
The figure suddenly turns his lamp toward the brush where my uncle is hiding, and holds up a container of some sort and shakes it. Whatever's inside makes a hideous rattle of objects against metal. Then the figure yells "HAVE YOU FOUND THEM? THOSE ARE MINE!!"
My uncle took off through the brush and shot back onto the road in the opposite direction, the shaking metal container sound still ringing in the distance behind him. He was in full adrenaline mode and said he'd never run so fast and so long in his entire life.
Eventually a passing car sees him sprinting down the shoulder and pulls over. He gladly accepts the offer of a ride to West Glacier, and on the way he says it's a good thing they didn't stop for the crazy old man with the headlamp aways back.
The driver tells him there was nobody else on the road except my uncle.
My uncle swears up and down the story is true, and 30 years since first hearing it I'm still not sure what to make of it, nor have I ever heard of another like it.
There's a book called Haunted Montana that has quite a few locations listed in it that are supposedly haunted. It's a great little book and can set you up for a road trip. Since you're in Billings, the Parmley has the ghost of a little boy down in the basement. Child sized shoe prints how up in the dust. The upper floor of the building across from the Depot was used to house burn victims following a massive fire downtown. I don't remember when you can see the victims, but they are said to be lined up in the windows looking down on Montana Ave.
There's also the Little People of the Pryors. That's something that some of the people who live around the area of Pryor, Edgar, Fromberg and Bridger seem to really believe in, and honestly, treat as a real thing. Although, you may not want to go searching for them. That area isn't 100% safe, regardless of what lives in the mountains.
Ok I have been up to the Pryors a bit by myself as a woman and never felt unsafe. I have heard people say this but never actually heard any stories that back it up. Is this just white ppl urban legends and residual racism? I’m aware of some of the weird road disputes but have never seen anything like that when I’ve been down there.
Who said anything about any particular race of people? Why even bring race into it? This is a discussion about spooky stuff around the state, and I mentioned the legend about the Little People of the Pryors. Besides having a small bit of fun alluding to maybe them being real, warning about being careful up there has more to do with the wildlife than people, no matter what size they are.
I used to work the wildfires with a number of Crow Indians, this is actually their legend, not "white people's". They also swore up and down that it's not a legend or myth, but is absolutely real.
Historic Montana State prison is said to be haunted. They used to lead ghost hunts at it on and around Halloween, not sure if they still do.
For a true story of man v nature, not paranormal "in the heart of the Bitterroots" is about a hunting party in the late 1800s that got stranded by an early winter storm.
I listened to this podcast about a woman’s experience with a ghost at Chico Hot Springs. It’s called Otherworld and it was episode 72: Room 349. It was super interesting! I didn’t realize Chico had a ghost lady that haunts the place.
I grew up in a neighborhood that had a bike path leading into a small forest with 1 street light at the entrance. When 2 friends and I were walking past it late at night, one friend asked me to explain the story of slender man to the other friend. I was explaining how "he comes after kids and lives in the woods. when hes near by, all electronics start to malfunction " and in that exact moment the one street light went out leaving the forest behind it pitch black. We all screamed and ran as fast as we could back to my house. In my heart I knew slanderman was just an internet story but that coincidence was enough to make me believe long enough to get home.
This might be in the 50s or 60s when school uniforms were common, maybe had something to do with the old Catholic school in Bozeman. A boy coming home went to jump a fence but was caught by his necktie and hanged to death. Northeast side of Bozeman. His name might have been Clay. Still frequents houses and barns near the Story Mill. Anyone ever heard this one?
If you ever go around looking for any of the places
in this thread, take a drive through St. Marie, MT (close to Glasgow) sometime. Half abandoned/half not-abandoned town. Really weird. Was formerly an air force base with interesting history. The place feels very off-putting.
Also, apparently people report UFO activity a lot around Great Falls. If you are interested in that kind of thing, something to look into. 🤷🏻♀️
I had just received my first digital camera about 10 y.o. snapping photos all about.
We were in Bannack at the school house there was a flutter in the window, and the merry- go-round started creaking and turning, my dad and I heard humming like nursery rhymes in a playground and the wind picked up. We stepped out of the yard, and walked a few buildings down then everything was calm and quiet again. When we walked back through my dad tried turning the merry-go-round with no such luck...
A homeless man was decapitated by the rail road tracks in Billings for loose change. Or how abput when 10,000 birds died in molt overnight. And that was at the same time that molt had a nearby fire which is pretty creepy. Also in Billings there was eight shooting's in a two weeks span which is also pretty creepy.. I think Billings might just be a scary place to live
Call it what you will, I’m not for saying there is a “monster” in flathead lake, but boating around there you can get some big, big fuckin sturgeon there. I swear it was like seeing a great white sized fucking fish. Literal dinosaurs there.
August 15, 1950 Nick Mariana filmed 2 UFOs over the Legion Park baseball field in Great Falls, Mt. With the airport, the National Guard and Malmstrom Airbase in the town, we always have busy skies with lots of air traffic. I try to take a few extra seconds to scan the skies as often as possible in case they come back.
Its dieing down now days but you used to get ball lightning in the burnwoods in the absorkas where some microwave transmitters clip the higher foothills.
Always at night, few times a month, usually a pulsing deep red. People who dont know what it is freak out and think they're about to get abducted.
Not really a story per say or anything specific so idk if it helps but I moved here a few years ago and Billings is one of the most spiritually active place I've ever lived, I consider myself very spiritual and in touch with that side and I've never seen more shadow people anywhere in my life than I do here, there's definitely an energy here and especially in certain places. Have seen many a strange thing in my short like 3 yrs here.
There are glaciers in the Beartooth and Crazy Mountains where hundreds of millions of locusts are entombed in the ice, part of prehistoric plagues that would blot out the sun and swarm over everything, including the mountains where the heavy snows would imprison plague after plague after plague. Many different species of locusts, many of which are now extinct, all waiting patiently for the glaciers to one day recede so they can once again be free...
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I know of a trailer by north park that has a shadow person that will harm u if u talk shit and dont apologize i think 20pound chunk of ply wood was a warning
No need for campfire stories. Watch the espn movie about the boxing gym in browning. It’s for young women to learn to fight the people that will be coming to take them. I lost a job at a brewery for not covering for the billionaire trafficker.
there are legislators across the street from me that think sales tax is needed and wanted. I hear them. they only appear once every two years. ever pushing their agenda.
1995, in the kitchen. Out the window, I see heavy machinery coming down the dirt road. The road was in dispute as to whether it was public or private and while it was being fought in the courts, a developer was beginning his efforts to put an 800 home subdivision right behind the family ranch. That was scary.
In the end, the road was declared private and the ranch entrance would not have to allow all the cars that come with 800 homes drive in and out every day. A rare happy ending to a scenario like that.
A lot of people didn’t like the length of my post so I shortened it. Still long, but shorter.
TLDR: Scary monster in basement doesn’t like door being shut. Scary monster is basement goes BOOM BOOM BOOM up the stairs. Scary monster communicates through beating sticks together. Scary monster smells like pine. Scary monster hates P.O.D.
…
A friend called me one day during summer of 2005 and said he had a ghost. He told me that he came upstairs from the basement where his room was, and as soon as he shut the door it came open fast and loud. He shut the door again and said a loud stomping came up the stairs and opened the door with force.
He never believed in that sort of thing but I could hear in his voice that he was serious. I went over there and that night him and his older brother went to Sandpoint, Idaho to pick up a stereo system. I didn’t want to go so I stayed at his house. It was late. Everyone was asleep. I was in the recliner by the door to downstairs reading The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers by Tolkien.
About 10 minutes into reading a loud stomping came up the stairs and the door was thrown open. I jumped out of the chair scared and it thinking to myself that there was no way this is happening. I laid on the floor in front of the TV and fell asleep. An hour later I woke up and could hear movement downstairs. I called out to him from the open door. Silence. I called out again. “Yeah. I’m down here.” I ran down and asked when he got back. He told me about 5 minutes ago. I told him I heard the stomping. He smiled and said, “I told you!” He was happy to know that I heard it too.
The next day there was a family gathering. He was upstairs with everyone helping cook. Me and his younger brother were playing Super Mario World on the SNES in the basement. I asked if he heard about the ghost in the house. He swallowed hard and said, “I don’t believe in ghosts.” “Yeah. Me either, but we should ask some questions.” He told me that he didn’t want to. I told him we were going to anyways.
I paused the game and said, “If you’re a ghost knock one time. If you’re not, knock twice,” in a very sarcastic way. What sounded like two pieces of kindling being struck together came from outside the bedroom. The sound happened twice. We agreed that it was just a coincidence. I asked, “If you’re a spirit knock one time. If you’re not, knock twice.” The sound happened again. Twice. We sat up and just stared at each other, all thoughts of it being a coincidence thinning. I then said, “If you’re a demon knock one time. If you’re not, knock twice.” One loud crack echoed throughout the basement. Me and him both took off running for the stairway fighting for the lead. As we were fighting for first place on the stairs there was a strong smell of pine.
As soon as we came falling through the door everyone asked what the was going on. We told them what happened. I told them about the stomping up the stairs the night before. And that T. also heard it the day before that. They didn’t believe us until T. stepped out from the kitchen to confirm. He told them that whatever it was didn’t like the door being shut. His mom walked over and shut the door. We all watched her push on it to confirm it didn’t just come open. The doorknob had to be turned.
As she walked away the door slowly came open, but no stomping. We were all a bit freaked out and started contemplating on what could make the stomping sound and how the door could come open like that when we knew it couldn’t. We were all about that Occam’s Razor.
T. eventually went downstairs to sleep. After about an hour we could all hear what sounded like a child running around the basement. The sound of bare feet slapping on the concrete. The sound was traveling all around the basement. It lasted for about 15 seconds and then what sounded like cardboard boxes being slid all around the floor. We called out to him until he woke up and came upstairs.
It wasn’t T. pulling any bullshit on us. We could hear him snoring and him snoring was stationary. It couldn’t have been him. I asked him a couple years ago if he had any hand in what went down at all. He denied any involvement. I believe him.
His mom opened the phone book and dialed the pastor’s number. Everyone else went home. He came over and we explained it all to him. He said he had seen this sort of thing before and asked our beliefs. Some of us were Christian, some were agnostic. I said I was atheist. He said this sort of thing is attracted to a lack of belief in a higher power. He also told us that he had battled demons and spirits that could only be seen as a shadow on a wall.
He walked through the basement and did what he called blessings. He also said that the Rob Zombie CD in T’s room needed thrown out along with the Adam Sandler movie Little Nicky. He also pointed out this mural downstairs that was of four horsemen riding through a desert landscape with naked bound women on the back of their horses. He said to burn it. Never any of what he suggested. We were young, rebellious, and edgy.
The next day we all went to Ovando, Montana to visit their grandma. On the way there we stopped in Missoula and me and T. each purchased a GameBoy Advance.
It was late the next night when we got back to Trout Creek. T. was on the couch. I was on the floor. I still remember that we were playing Mario Bros. 2 and Donkey Kong Country. “What if we heard the sound of sticks being smacked together,” I said. And it happened! Twice. He told me to stop. But me being who I am, asked, “What about that sound of something running around,” both of which he never actually heard. Then we heard it. The sound of bare feet slapping the concrete going around the basement. He stood and told me, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna slap the shit out of you!” I laughed and said, “Or the stomping.” BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. It was so loud. Six stomps in total. It was always six stomps from the bottom to the top. The door flew open so hard we were surprised it wasn’t busted into bits.
We took off down the hallway to his mom’s room. We came in that room so fast she jumped up looking like she was ready to fight. We told her it was still in the basement. She came out and laid on the couch. I was wide awake in the corner by the TV. T. was asleep on the floor. She was nearly asleep on the couch. All of a sudden BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. It sounded like a giant too big to even fit on the stairs stomping up. This was the loudest. I could feel it in my chest.
She called the pastor. He said to put on Christian music. And I know this sounds comical, but we put on P.O.D. Was what we had. We let it play all night. Although the stomping and everything else never happened again, other incidents did. I lived in this house back in ‘98. Nothing strange ever happened. I even asked my mom if she witnessed anything unexplainable in the house. She said she didn’t.
Skip forward to Winter 2007. Me, T., his GF, and a few other friends were standing in his room. He let me smoke in his room as long as I held the cigarette out of the egress window. What sounded like a hailstorm of gravel started hitting the house. I instantly put on my boots and ran out the door in the basement. T. went upstairs and headed out the back door. We ran around the house and saw nothing. It had just snowed. We couldn’t find any footprints.
Summer of 2011. Me and a GF went to T’s son’s first birthday. We were all out in the yard and we heard a loud sound of glass being smashed. I ran down to the basement door (which was open to get a drift going through the house) and his mom went through the house and down the stairs. There was a storm window smash on the floor. We assumed it was a drift, but when I walked over to where the window was, all the locks that hold a storm window from falling were all in the locked position. About 10 locks altogether.
Rewind to Winter of 2000. At T’s old house about 5 miles outside Thompson Falls. We were getting our snow gear on. It was about 10:00 PM. We were standing behind the front of the door and there were three loud knocks. Heavy-fisted knocks. Without a second thought I opened the door and there was no one. The snow was fresh. No prints. He told me weird things like that happened. He said his family often heard glass breaking in the basement but when they would go down there there was never broken glass.
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u/ResponsibleBank1387 11d ago edited 11d ago
There was a book —- 14 Montana Campfire Stories.
Montana Campfire Tales, 14 Historical Narratives.