Marville, a Cold War Baby Blues


by Patrick Bernauw 

"Come on now, baby," the old lady said. "Come on now and follow me up to the cemetery. And listen to me, baby. I will not tell you a fairy tale. I will not tell you some silly urban legend. No fiction here with me, baby. Just plain facts. Just the true story of my Cold War Baby Blues. I want you to write it down, baby. Do you hear me? I want you to go tell it on the mountain. I want you to write it all down."

”The year was 1955,” the Lady of the Cemetery said. “As part of the NATO, the First Wing of the Royal Canadian Air Force took possession of a newly built air base at Marville. Cozy little village it was. Close to the Franco-Belgian border, in the Lorraine Meuse Department.”
Full story (part one):
Marville, a Cold War Baby Blues: Part One | Socyberty


The Ghost Radio

By magnoliazz

When the moon rises, the ghost radio plays...

The Ghost Radio

I think I am a haunted person. Strange phenomena seems to follow me around. It started when I was five, and it continues to this day.
My latest haunting is what I call “The Ghost Radio”.
I have a finished basement with a bedroom and bathroom, it is also a storm shelter. At first I thought I would sleep in the basement only when a tornado warning was issued. A local woman was actually sucked out of her house during a nighttime tornado, so I started to get a bit paranoid when the weather turned stormy. Pretty soon I got a big screen TV for the basement bedroom, and then one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was sleeping in the basement every night. I feel very safe down there, kind of like a rabbit in its burrow.
At least twice a week, sometimes more than that, I wake up from a sound sleep, and it sounds just like a radio is playing in the kitchen area upstairs, however I have no radio I can make out songs quite easily, but I cannot make out what the announcer says. Its always a male announcer too, never a female. I guess they would really be classified as a disc jockey, but for some reason, I do not think that is appropriate in this case.

Full article:
The Ghost Radio


Graveyard of Lost Souls

By saddlerider1

Lady In White

For those of you who believe in or have actually had an up close and personal experience with a ghostly figure, I hope you will appreciate this piece of poetry. I had such a sighting a few years back when I was driving through the night to get to my destination. It was in a town in Kentucky, a town name I can't remember. The sighting haunts me to this very day, not in a scary way but with sadness for the lady in white who wanders that road and cemetery. Up till then I had never had a paranormal experience, however it made me a firm believer from that night forward.

Why did she appear to
Me in the early morning light
Staring from a distance with her
Reflection looking back at her
Full poem here:

Graveyard of Lost Souls


And The Music Did Not Stop...

On a warm summer evening, we were just sitting on a bench nearby the belfry of Mons, and talking a little. And as it was customary in those days, an old man stood up and told us a true story... about the Angels of Mons... and how the music did not stop...

Weird Tales



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