Emails From The Grave

Channel 4

Jack Froese died of a heart arrhythmia in June 2011 at the age of 32. Tragic, but nothing unusual about the story… yet. In November the same year, Jack’s friends each received an email from his account, signed with his name. His friends and family are adamant no one knew his passwords or could have hacked his account.

How then, did the messages contain such personal information, that only Jack himself could have possibly known? One email implored his friend to “clean his f***ing attic”, which related to a private conversation the two had had shortly before his death. An email to his cousin read “I knew you were gonna break your ankle”; an injury that had occurred just a week before the email arrived. Probably a sick hacker, but Jack’s relatives and friends said they still have no explanation for the messages, and have given up hope trying to find one. Spooky.

"SOM KULL"

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​​​​​​Adventure for the people of Hordaland meant Folgefonna park. Located on a peninsula in the mist of a mountain range, the park encompassed a pristine Lake with crystal clear water  carved out by glaciers aeon ago. 

The primaeval forest; a mesh of  pine trees,sugar maples and great oaks had kept the lake isolated for years and made it difficult to reach. The waters were so perfectly still that on a very clear night, a facsimile of the whole celestial firmament is casted on its surface which makes for a natural telescope.

You see, Folgefoona is huge,about a quarter million hectares of wilderness and  spans five municipalities: Jondal , Kvinnherad, Etne ,Odda , and Ullensvang .

 One could go days without meeting a single soul,but the park was patrolled regularly which made it safe ,and quite popular with families - camping,boating,hunting and hiking - until "Som Kull" .

Kendra matt was18,brunette, long face and fearless with a reckless nature. She was adventurous and determined to trundle untasted paths.

 On that fateful night Matt had camped all night with her friends on the fringes of Lake Lonnie. After her friends had gotten to bed, she got up ,grabbed a pack of crunchy and her diary, and snucked out before dawn to catch some alone time, and maybe complete her journal entries.

She walked for a while before settling down at the edge of the pier on the  banks of the Lake. She sat down put her feets into the water and then made whirls with her legs as she filled up the entries into her journal.

Wanting more solitude,she  took the row boat out into the deep parts, rumored to be about 800 feets deep but she wasn't afraid;she was never afraid. 

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​​Matt switched off her flash light,hurled the wraps of the crunchy into the lake, and then laid on the bench of the boat facing upwards.

The sky was exceptional beautiful that night or morning ;stars shimmering ,and 
the aurora borealis bathed the atmosphere with color,sliddering back and forth like a beautiful green serpent.

She felt blissful.

She had barely shut her eyes when....... *kon kon kon*

She heard what seem like a knock coming from underneath the boat. She assumed the boat had  somehow drifted ,and ran aground so she looked over the side to see if it was a seal or walruse but saw nothing.

Matt convinced herself she was assuming things,and was about to return to her former endeavor when the knocks came again; this time heavier. 

*KON KON KON *

The boat shook violently almost knocking her into the water. Now she knew it was real and frantically tried to row back to shore.

After rowing violently for what seems like an hour she stop as she realized the boat hasn't moved as if  held down by some invisible force .

She angrily used  both oars to poke the waters around, but something or someone tugged at them from under the water, taking both oars underneath.

For the first time Matt was afraid she closed eyes ,and prayed her ordeal was a nightmare. She used her both arms to steady the boat as the lake became calm again.

The mist thickened around an object rising from the water, Then she saw it,then a flash of light.  Matt was never heard from again only the boat was found with the inscription "skitne" .

Sometimes, the truth is scarier than fiction. This photograph (yes, photograph, not CGI) is of Blanche Monnier, a French lady who was kept hostage for 24 years in a locked, covered room where she was forced to live in her own waste. She was rescued in 1901, after the police received a letter detailing how a lady was being held hostage in France.

The unknown letter read, to some degree:

Monsieur Attorney General: I have the honor to inform you of an exceptionally serious occurrence. I speak of a spinster who is locked up in Madame Monnier’s house, half starved, and living on a putrid litter for the past twenty-five years – in a word, in her own filth.”

The letter astonished the police. They went to the home and discovered an anorexic Blanche Monnier lying in a pool of excrement and trash on a couch in an upstairs room. The 55-pound, 49-year old Blanche was hiding under the sheets, terrified. She had not seen sunlight in 24 years. A witness to her discovery described it:

We immediately gave the order to open the casement window. This was done with great difficulty, for the old dark-colored curtains fell down in a heavy shower of dust. To open the shutters, it was necessary to remove them from their right hinges. As soon as light entered the room, we noticed, in the back, lying on a bed, her head and body covered by a repulsively filthy blanket, a woman identified as Mademoiselle Blanche Monnier. The unfortunate woman was lying completely naked on a rotten straw mattress. All around her was formed a sort of crust made from excrement, fragments of meat, vegetables, fish, and rotten bread. We also saw oyster shells and bugs running across Mademoiselle Monnier’s bed. The air was so unbreathable, the odor given off by the room was so rank, that it was impossible for us to stay any longer to proceed with our investigation.

Her 75-year-old mother Madame Monnier, was discovered sitting tranquilly in the lounge room. Police immediately locked up the home and took the mother and brother in for questioning. Blanche was immediately raced to the Hôtel-Dieu Hospital in Paris where specialists at first felt that she would almost certainly die.

The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 12:07 before she pushed her long rotting nails through my chest, her other hand muffling my screams.
I sat bolt upright, relieved it was only a dream, but as I saw my alarm clock read 12:06, I heard my closet door creak open.

Basement Child (PsuedoNom),

• A rundown house in a strange neighbourhood, this kid finds a child’s drawing underneath the stairs in the laundry room – a family of five with the caption “our new home”
• People who stayed at their house reported a kid’s voice behind them shouting “rah” to try and scare them, but when they turned around nobody was there
• One time his whole family were getting ready to leave the house, but when his brother asked if he could take a pepsi from the fridge, a child’s voice screamed “NO” directly from the basement
• Nobody investigated – they just bolted from the house

Ogre Man (Walden_swirl)

• A 15 year old kid sleeping in his loft bed at a mobile home in south california, the screen from his window sill falls off and he thinks nothing of it, but then a tattooed hand reaches through to feel around the bedroom floor
• This kid jumps out of bed and pulls a knife out, screaming to get the hell out of his room – his dad shows up but the tattooed man vanishes into the night
• It was later revealed that the intruder had been living under their mobile home for quite some time, his own sleeping bag, water, extra clothes and a hatchet – evidently plotting his intrusion for a while, the family unaware how close they came to getting hacked up in the night

I glance around and notice my mug of hot tea is gone. Not only that, there is writing on my message pad. I haven’t even touched it yet, it should be blank. I lean in closer and read “Help Me” in purple messy letters. I jump up from my chair. I’ve only been working at the playhouse a couple of weeks. Could this be staff initiation?  I sit back and decide what to do next. The last thing I want to do is overreact.

“Hee!” I hear the noise. I glance up at the basement door. I hear it again, a combination of a growl and a hiss. I get up slowly and walk toward the noise. “Hee! Hee”! I pause. I don’t want to open the door.  My hands shake. I can either open the door or run back to my seat and wait to see what happens next. I hesitate for a minute. Eventually I raise my hand to open the door. I yank it wide open.

Something jumps on me. What the hell is it? Pain, I feel pain, my skin burns.  A few drops of blood come out an ear or a nose. Is it my blood? The whiskers are blood-red. I grip a fistful of fur and throw the cat away from me. I think it’s a cat. It flies through the air and lands on the floor with a thud.

The cat is down for thirty seconds and gets up and bolts. I sit and do nothing for a full five minutes. My shirt has a couple of tears. My right hand, the one used to pry the cat, has little patches of blood on it. I see a couple of claw marks and scratches. I get up and walk slowly downstairs. I need to find the cat. Staff initiation is safe to rule out.

In the basement darkness has crept in. I turn on the light. The cat is nowhere to be seen, of course. I stand and wait. I hope the cat will magically appear.  I just want this nightmare to end.  Suddenly, I see the cat at the far end of the basement. Ironically the cat is posted right beside the emergency doors. It stares at me.

I have seen the cat roaming around in my neighbourhood. A tenant probably moved and left it behind. I was thoughtful enough to pick up a tin of cat food. But I forgot to actually give it to the cat. Ooops.

We lock eyes. A few minutes go by. No matter how long this goes on, I will not be the first one to move.  Suddenly the cat takes a step and then another. My heart jumps into my throat. My body contracts with fear and I can’t move. It takes a third and starts to pick up speed and charges me!

It lands on my throat and claws sink in. I try to pull the cat off but it clings as in life or death. I try to pull the cat off me again. This time I manage to pull it about a foot away from me. I stare into the eyes. They scare me the hell out of me. Suddenly, I feel weak; my knees are ready to buckle underneath me. Without warning, the cat swings a paw and swipes my left cheek. On impulse I drop the cat, for a second it’s in mid-air but quickly disappears. I look around and see nothing. My cheek throbs and is sore. I run into the girls’ bathroom. I want to see the damage. I see two slash marks on my face. I splash myself with cold water. I walk back upstairs to the desk. I sit for a couple minutes.

My eyes blink a couple of times just to make sure. This can’t be. What the hell is going on? The purple message is gone. My mug is right in front of me, filled with steaming tea.