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The Voice That Called in the Night | Into the Paranormal
Ranked number one in innovation, 10 consecutive years, Arizona State University isn't just ahead of the curve, it's creating new paths to success. Learn from notable clinical and research faculty online. That's a degree better. Explore programs at asuonline.asu.edu. - Real ghost stories from real people. This is "Into the Paranormal" with Tony Bruski. - They say home is where the heart is, but what happens when that home holds something else entirely? Something unseen, something unknown? Tonight's story takes us to the quiet outskirts of Louisiana where one family's dreams of peace and safety turned into sleepless nights filled with whispers in the dark, stomping footsteps and a voice calling from the shadows. The mother of faith, courage and a lifetime of unexplained encounters shares a story that will make you question the walls around you when the ground beneath your feet. As her four-year-old son begins to hear the same voice she thought she'd left behind in childhood, the family struggles to separate what's real from what lurks in the unseen corners of their home. What could be causing the strange phenomena in this otherwise ordinary house? Is it the land, the past or something darker that refuses to let them rest? One thing is certain, this family story leaves no room for easy answers. Let's get to the letter. They write, dear Tony, I never thought I'd be writing to someone about this, let alone sharing it publicly, but something has been happening in our home that I can't explain and it's beginning to terrify me. I've experienced things like this before, but this time it's different. It's not just me anymore, it's my son too. A few nights ago, I woke up around 3 a.m. to the sound of someone running toward me. It was loud, urgent. I flipped on my bedside lamp thinking, it was my son coming to climb into bed with me like he often does at that hour. I even heard a door creak, so I got up and walked to my bedroom door calling his name, but when I opened the door and when was there, I ran to his room, my heart racing and found him sound asleep. The house was utterly still, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. I sat on the couch for what felt like hours debating whether to call my husband who's out of town for work, but I didn't. He chalked it up to my imagination or one of those weird things I always seem to experience. You see, this isn't the first time something like this has happened. I've had encounters with the unexplained since I was a child, leading shadows, disembodied voices, cold touches in the middle of the night, but I've always been able to push through relying on my faith and reasoning that maybe there's an explanation we just can't see. The next morning, I brushed it off as best I could until my son ran out of his room, pale and wide-eyed. He told me things in his room were moving. When I asked him what he meant, he hesitated, then said something that chilled me to my core. He said, "The voice was calling me again." Now my son is four years old. He doesn't watch scary movies. We've never discussed ghosts or anything like that in front of him. So I asked him as calmly as I could, what voice he was talking about. He told me the voice that calls my name, Mommy. He said it's been waking him up at night, telling him to come to my room. At first, he thought it was me or his dad playing tricks on him, but when he'd come to check, we'd always be asleep. He said the voice sometimes sounded like me, but different. Tony, this isn't something I can easily explain away. As he spoke, memories clicked into place. For weeks now, he's been coming to my room at 3 a.m., crawling into bed with me. Each time I assumed he was just having nightmares or feeling lonely, but now I'm starting to wonder if something or someone has been leading him to me. What truly shook me was when he started talking about footsteps. And he said he hears them almost every night, walking up and down the hallway outside his room. He thought it was me checking on him, but Tony, it wasn't me. And the thing is, I've been hearing those footsteps too. They aren't quiet either. These are heavy, deliberate stomps, the kind you can't ignore. My husband even heard them once and tried to convince me it was thunder. But when we checked outside, the sky was clear, full of stars. This house is only five years old. It's not the kind of place you expect to feel haunted. But the activity has been ramping up in ways we can't ignore. Lights flicker constantly, sometimes going out entirely. A few days ago, three bulbs burned out one after another within minutes. Then there are the smoke alarms. Last week, three of our alarms went off simultaneously. No smoke, no fire. Just ear piercing alarms in the middle of the night. We changed the batteries, but they went off again. Eventually, we had to disconnect them entirely. It's all too much to be coincidence. I've always believed in the supernatural to some degree. My faith teaches me that there's more to this world than what we can see, but this feels different. It feels personal. And the scariest part is I don't know what it wants. The land our home was built on was never lived on before, at least not in modern history. But this town of Beatas Springs has a reputation. People around here talk about ghosts, about spirits tied to the land. I always thought it was just local legend, but now I'm not so sure. I've been trying to stay calm for my son's sake, but every night when the house falls silent, I feel it creeping back. Whatever it is, it's here. Tony, I don't know what to do. I tried to keep things as normal as possible after my son told me it's about the voice, but the truth is I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched and wasn't just at night anymore. During the day, there was a heaviness in the air like someone or something was standing just behind me, just out of sight. Then my son started acting differently. He became quieter, more withdrawn. He didn't want to play in his room anymore, saying it didn't feel nice in there. One night as I was tucking him in, he grabbed my arm and whispered, "Mommy, it doesn't like you." I froze, "What doesn't like me, baby?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. "The shadow," he said, "it doesn't like you, it told me." I didn't know what to say. I kissed his forehead and told him everything was okay, but inside I was shaking. That same night I woke up again, this time to a strange noise. Wasn't the footsteps this time? It was a low, rhythmic tapping, almost like someone was knocking on the walls from inside the house. It moved slowly, starting near the living room and making its way toward the bedrooms. I wanted to believe it was just the house settling, but deep down I knew it wasn't. I've lived in houses that creek and groan. This was different. I sat up in bed, straining to hear. The tapping stopped, and for a moment, the silence was so intense, it felt suffocating. Then I heard a loud bang. It sounded like it came from my son's room. I ran to his door, flinging it open. He was sitting up in bed, clutching his blanket, his eyes wide with fear. "It's here," he whispered. I didn't even have time to process what he said before his bedroom light flickered and went out. We were plunged into darkness. My son screamed and I scooped him up, running out of the room and slamming the door behind us. We spent the rest of the night on the couch, the lights on, the TV playing softly. I didn't sleep at all. The next day I decided to dig deeper into the history of our property. What I found only made things worse, the land our house was built on used to be part of an old cemetery, one that was almost completely washed away during Hurricane Katrina. I found records showing that many of the graves were never recovered. Their markers lost to the storm and it felt like the pieces were finally coming together. If this was about the land, it might explain why we had no problems in our second house but experienced so much in the first and now here. But knowing this didn't make me feel any better. If anything, it made everything seem darker, more hopeless. That evening, my husband came home from his work trip. I told him everything, half expecting him to roll his eyes or tell me I was overreacting. But to my surprise, he didn't. Instead, he told me something he hadn't mentioned before. The last time he'd been home, he'd woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of footsteps. He thought it was me. But when he looked over, I was asleep. He said he got up to check the house but found nothing. "I didn't want to freak you out," he admitted. "That night we decided to try something we'd never done before. We prayed together, asking God to protect our home and cast out anything that didn't belong there. As we prayed, the house felt alive. The lights flickered violently. The air grew thick and the smoke alarms went off again, even though they were disconnected. Then just as suddenly as it started, everything stopped. The silence was deafening. For a while it felt like we'd won. The footsteps stopped, the lights stayed on. My son slept through the night for the first time in weeks. But just when I thought it was over, something happened that I can't explain away. A few nights ago, I woke up to find the door to my bedroom wide open. I always closed it before bed, always. As I got up to shut it, I saw something or someone standing in the hallway. It wasn't a shadow this time. It was a figure, tall and dark. It's features impossible to make out. I froze my breath catching in my throat. For what felt like an eternity, we just stood there staring at each other. And then it was gone. Tony, I don't know what we're dealing with, but I'm scared. I'm scared for my son, for my family, for whatever might still be here with us. I hope you or your listeners can help us understand what's happening or at least give us some hope that we can take our home back. Sincerely, Carolyn. There are stories that leave you wondering if the veil between the living and the dead is thinner than we think. Caroline's tale is one of those. It's filled with moments that defy explanation, footsteps in the night, voices calling her son, and a shadowy figure in the hallway. Could this be the restless spirits of an old cemetery? Their graves disturbed by nature and time or is there something else at work here? From a psychological perspective, some might point to stress, environmental factors, or even sleep disorders as possible explanations. Night terrors, auditory hallucinations, and sleep paralysis could account for some of what Caroline and her family are experiencing. The power of suggestion, especially in a family sensitive to the supernatural, might also play a role amplifying otherwise mundane occurrences. But then there are the events that simply don't fit into a logical box, the synchronized alarms, the unexplained flickering lights, and the figure in the hallway all suggest something far beyond the ordinary. It's hard to ignore the connection between the land's history and the activity in the house. If the story is about the old cemetery or true, could this be a case of spirits displaced and unable to rest? And what about the voice calling her son? That detail sends chills down my spine. The idea that something is actively trying to lure a child raises serious questions about its intent and leaves us questioning whether this entity is something far darker than a lost soul. Caroline's story reminds us of one undeniable truth. Some mysteries remain just that, mysteries. Whether rooted in the human mind, the spiritual realm or somewhere in between, they challenge our understanding of reality. What would you do if your home, your sanctuary, became a place of fear? How would you confront something you can't see, can't touch, but can certainly feel? Caroline has chosen faith and resilience. But the question lingers, is it enough? As always, we want to hear your thoughts. Is this a case of psychological stress meeting coincidence? Or is something paranormal at play? Whatever you believe, one thing's for certain, Caroline and her family are not alone. Till next time, keep your eyes open, and as always, stay curious. Want more real ghost stories from real people? Then press subscribe now. We're dropping new ghost stories every single day. This is "Into the Paranormal" with Tony Bruski. (upbeat music) [BLANK_AUDIO]