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Slashdot Ghost Stories?
clemens asks: "As Halloween is just around the corner, does anyone have good geek-oriented spooky stories to share? No, I don't mean that hey-freddie-is-creeping-out-of-your-screen stuff, but some after-wee-hours-in-comm-room-i-see-dead-people stories. Anyone?"
I'm sure there are enough creative people out there that can come up with a few Scary Stories that are uniquely Slashdot. So if you're game, write away! CT here's my favorite :)
The Story of Magic from the Jargon File always amuses me...
"But remember, most lynch mobs aren't this nice." (H.Simpson)
-- Joe
We drove to Florida once. In like 11 hours (from Michigan - that's fast)... After being awake for a LONG time we just jumped in the van and decided to drive to Florida.
Long story short... We were all strung out on caffine and ephedrine (diet pills) to stay awake when we encountered a stop light in the Florida "pan handle". This particular stoplight was on a "surface road" that had very few stop lights. Few and far between... In any event, this area had been previously designated a "fog zone". We saw the signs but did not know what this meant in terms of changes in actual equipment used on the highway. I dunno if anyone else is familiar but they equip some of the stoplights with a VERY intense flash sorta like a camera flash but lots brighter... They proceed to flash these when the light turns red and there is fog out. Kinda like an extra warning.
I don't know if it was the drugs or lack of sleep (combination maybe?) but we were pretty freaked out when we witnessed this light at 3:00am after driving for 10 hours. It took us like 15 minutes (several stoplight changes) to figure out that these weren't aliens but rather a safety feature implemented by FDOT.
Sigh...
Life is the leading cause of death in America.
At one of my jobs, one of the computers in the training room (which had about 15 computers in it) was named "bovine". I set that one up to moo at 25 minutes after the hour, 24 hours a day. For some reason, the trainers didn't realize it was coming from the computer named "bovine", they didn't know how I did it, but they sure knew that I was the one responsible.
It's terrible to have a reputation.
The next Cmdr Taco duplicate will be ready soon, but subscribers can beat the rush and see it early!
If you have never played "System Shock 2", go out to your local video game store and see if you can get your paws on a copy (shouldn't be more than $5 bucks these days).
It starts off kinda cheesy, but if you only play at night with all the lights out, it'll eventually get freaky enough to scare the bejesus outta you.
Sitting in a corner, you have a gun that's in such bad shape, you anticipate maybe one or two more shots left until it jams. You can hear the mistress coming for you, speaking in akward statements (must protect the baaaby....). You back up into a corner by the opposite door to make a hasty exit, when, while your back is turned, the door opens! You hear "SILENCE THE DISCORD!" as a zombie hits you with a tire iron.
I jumped up, and couldn't get to the keyboard fast enough to actually get outta the way (took 3 hits to kill me).
Good quote, too many chars. Seriously, the slashdot 120 char limit sucks!
With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe ...
Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary, System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor, Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets. Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer, I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store, Only this and nothing more.
Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing, Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more. But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token. "Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!" One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more, Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion? These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before. Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises. The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more. Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more, From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending, Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored, Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key. But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before. Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore, Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as hard. I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore. Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations, Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before. Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before. Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted. Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor. And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night. A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core. The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore. Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go. What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored, Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes? But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more, You will be one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore, Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
About two years ago, when I was still cooped up in my tiny little freshman dorm room with my two roommates, I knew a guy named Tom Freck. Tom was a pretty nice guy, always willing to stop by and chat, or lend a hand with homework.
I always wondered, though, why he was a Computer Science major. His computer skills were at best mediocre--he could turn his system on and run a word processor without any problems, but when it came time to install hardware or write an actual program ... well, suffice it to say that problems would arise.
Normally, this wouldn't have been too big a deal. There were at least seven other Computer Science majors living on our floor--so there were very few computer problems that, among all of us, couldn't be fixed. Tom's problem, as far as I could tell, was a general lack of faith in our abilities.
The event that I have thus far been leading up to took place in November of 1996, if I remember right. Somehow, one of Tom's Windows 95 driver files got corrupted. Tom immediately pulled out the number to Compaq's customer service line and dialed up to ask their assistance.
It should be noted at this point that the error occurred at about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Myself and a few others offered to help him out, but he insisted that Compaq Tech Service would do a better job. Not thinking much of it, I proceeded to my evening classes, then went home and flopped into bed. The next morning, I was surprised to see Tom in his dorm room (the doors in Taylor Tower are routinely kept open--it's tradition or something), eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, still on hold waiting for tech service to answer.
"You okay, man?" I asked him.
He gave no indication that he even noticed I was there, so I waved my hand in front of his face. He jumped about three feet in the air. "Huh?"
"I asked if you were doing alright."
He shook his head vigourously to clear the fog from his brain. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just waiting for tech support to take my call."
I shrugged. "Well, just lemme know if I can help out, okay?"
He just nodded dismissively, so I headed off to my freshman chemistry course, leaving him to his fate.
When I returned that night, he was still on hold. My attempts to get his attention were innefective this time, so I again shrugged it off and went to bed.
This went on for the better part of three days. It got to the point that people walking by his room were so used to him being glued to the telephone that they would hardly give him a second look as they passed.
Then, that fateful Saturday morning, he dissappeared. We asked around the building to get some idea of his whereabouts, getting a few responses about a strange figure stumbling out of the building some time around 3 AM.
We decided to file a missing persons report with the campus police--there wasn't much else we could do at that point. Later that day, one of my neighbors called me into his room to see something on the six o'clock news. Apparently, an unidentified man had been sighted running stark naked down North High Street, screaming, "I AM THE NEXT AVAILABLE SERVICE REPRESENTATIVE!" at the top of his lungs.
None of us ever saw him after that, but to this day, if you listen hard enough late at night, you can still hear a recorded voice saying, "Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and wait for the next available service representative."
It was a quiet night, just like any other, the cosntant hum of the air condtioning systems nearly putting me to sleep as I stared at the command prompt, the Dell PowerEdge waiting for me to throw some command at it. I'd been at it for hours, resenting the fact that I was being made to work on Halloween. There were people to see, parties to go to, neighbors to egg, and script kiddies to frag in UT. But no, I was sitting in the server room trying to implement the bosses next big whiz bang idea. I knew it wouldn't work. The people in the other division knew it wouldn't work. My manager knew it wouldn't work, the night time cleaning lady Dorris, whose entire computer skills revolved around the fact that once she had dialed in to AOL, knew that it wouldn't work. However the nice consultant who sold us tens of thousands of dollars of gear said it would work just fine, every other reputable company in our line of work was doing it. So here I was, on Halloween, staring at a command prompt.
I threw back another cola and tried to clear my head. The makefile was hosed, some dependency was missing that I couldn't find. I checked site after site but saw it listed nowhere. I even hoped on several IRC channels to now advail. In a leap of desperation I called up the developers tech support number. I was instantly transfered to a machine that transfered my call to the night answering service, but that came up with a message telling me the number was no longer in service.
My brain felt fuzzy, I was getting nowhere quick so I grabbed another cola and tossed it back. It wasn't helping. I just couldn't focus, the caffeine wasn't giving me what I needed. I looked down at the can and then dropped it, pushing my chair back sliding me across to the far side of the server room.
"Caffeine free!" I cried out in horror.
Quickly I got out of my seat, flew from the server room and up the stairs to the small office kitchen. I shuffled around for the coffee. This would do the trick, this would bring me back to life. I opened the can and it was empty. I grabbed another one, but dropped it just as fast as I saw it was decaffeinated, the foul brew of the devil himself. I tore through the kitchen cupbard, looking for anything that contained the substance I so greatly desired. How would I ever get this to compile without the aid of caffeine, the stuff that needed to be flowing through my veins! I found a stash of herbal tea, but it too was without caffeine.
I grabbed for my wallet, there was still some cash in it. Good. I bolted from the office and across the street to the all night convieant store. I pulled on the handle but it was locked. I banged on the door, trying to get someones attention but there was no movement inside.
I could feel the fuzziness creeping deeper in to my brain, taking hold of me, choking me, dragging me further in to darkness. I tried to fight it, tried to do something, anything. I couldn't scream. I couldn't move or breathe. The darkness. The darkness....
NO CAFFEINE!!!! Ahhhhh!!!!!!
In a row???
LOL. Now I have to figure out how to apply this idea to my server named "uranus".
--
"Outlook not so good." That magic 8-ball knows everything! I'll ask about Exchange Server next.
Near our home was a cemetary, which was in my path. Depending on which path I took home, the Cemetary was often on my way, and I would either go around or cut through, depending on my mood.
Well, to be honest, I think that bravado took over... Damned if I wasn going to avoid the cemetery just because it was haloween night.
As I walked through the cemetery, the nearest street light was about 3 blocks away. It was dark, but there was still enough light for me to see the road ahead of me and the outlines of the tombstones around me. Suddenly, I saw something white moving to my left.
I stopped. I turned off my radio. I scanned around where I thought I had seen the movement, and shortly, I saw something white moving on a grave.
Now, I don't consider myself very superstitious, but at this point, I was in a prime superstition territory. Midnight, alone om a cemetary on Haloween night, with something white moving on a grave. If it got any closer to being a Hollywood movie, I was not going to like the next scene.
Suddenly the white thing started to move... and I mean move fast! My heart jumped as I prepared to run like my life depended on it and then I realized what I was facing.....
I don't know who was more scared -- Me or the rabbit -- but I don't remember ever taking a shortcut though that cemetary again.
Free Software: Like love, it grows best when given away.
Where to begin - My great-grandfather built the house that my parents currently live in at the beginning of the last century. My grandfather grew up in that house. The strange things started to happen towards the end of the second world war. My grandfather's brother was killed over Sicily, and buried overseas. The night he found out about the news, my great-grandfather went across the river to the sawmill he owned and paced the yard. His son appeared to him, in uniform, and told him not to worry, and that he was ok. A short time later, my grandfather awoke to see the image of his older brother standing at the end of his bed, smiling at him, and then fading away into the darkness.
We moved into the house when I was 8 years old. My great grandmother died peacefully in her sleep, in what was to become my bedroom. I had had a good relationship with both of my great grandparents. The first things I began to noticed were the balls of light at night. For the frist 6 months, a white ball of light the size of a softball would travel back and forth across the bottom of the wall opposite my head. I blocked every light source and curtained all the windows, (the house is in the country so not much outside light anyway), but the light remained. Later, it moved into the hallway directly opposite my head as I slept, and then after another few months, disappeared. I like to think of it as my great-grandmother watching over me.
But it didn't end there. At night, after 11 or se when everyone had gone to bed, I would hear what sounded like big band era music coming from the basement, through the heating ducts. I would go out into the living room (I was the only one who slept on the ground floor), but I could onyl hear it coming from my room. It wasn't until last year that I mentioned it to anyone, and that's when I found out that my great-granparents would always listen to their big band records in the basement/den that they had.
I have seen objects move, seen movement in hallways when I was the only one home in the house. I once saw a small statuette fly 6 feet off a piano into the middle of the room. My sister has some more negative experiences with the house. She is 2 years younger than I (19) and will not stay in the house alone at night. She either invites a friend over, or leaves. She has seen and heard doors slam, windows close, heard loud noises and felt presences. Which leads me to the scariest single thing thing that has ever happened to me at the house.
I no longer live with my parents, and when I go back to visit, I sleep in the basement, on a hideaway couch. I have never had any creepy feelings or bad dreams in the basement, and as a child I used to mow the lawn in a cemetery as a summer job, so I do not scare easily. One night, around 2 am, I woke up, staring out into the room, and I SWEAR I saw a thin hand reaching OUT OF THE DARKNESS towards my face. Scared out of my mind, I lunged towards a lamp and after several agonising seconds turned on the light and saw nothing at all except an empty room. I ran upstairs, lit a candle, put it beside my bed and tried to forget about it, but I couldn't. I am getting chills just writing this. This happened last April. Now, when I visit, I have to have a small light on in the basement, or I CANNOT sleep. It is the only time I have felt or seen anything other than the protective spirits of my family in the house.
I don't know if I am more sensitive to spirits, or what, but I have had some other experiences that were definitely weird. I like my parents house, but some people, like my sister and my best friend, refuse to spend the night there, as it gives them the creeps.
- If This Peace Is Fictious, I Shall Destroy It
I used to work in this computer lab, that was actually was the first level of a parking garage that was converted into office space. It was okay, except for the lack of visible light and the strange gurgling noises that would come from the plumbing that ran floor to ceiling throughout the lab. One saturday night I was working late, this was a few years back, I think it was in October, but I'm not sure.
Around 7pm my Kastle card stopped working at the keydoors around the lab. For some reason, they had built a wall around an area that had been an exit to the stairwell at one point. The stair well had been walled over, and the emergency exit open INWARD. I know this now, because around 8pm, I was rooting around for a network card I needed to put in an IVR server. I thought there was a spare parts bin in this large closet, instead I was trapped, with no way out but my Kastle card.
I was stuck.
Well, I figured I was in there for the night, so I managed to find some foam packing material, and stretched out in the corner between a few odd sized piles of pc components. I guess when I enterd the room I must have tripped a silent alarm, because sometime later a large swedish looking guy in a security uniform opened the door about an hour later. He must have been 6 foor 5 and weighed about 300 pounds, he was a healthy boy to sya the least.
He opened the door with and slowly entered with his flashlight shining all over the place. Then he proceeds to do the exact same thing as me! He shuts the door behind him, and eventually, as he is trying to leave, realizes that he is stuck too.
So the security dude is banging on the door, when I finally wake up enough to figure out what's going on. I get up, and walk over to him in the dark room. I say, "don't even bother, there's no way to get out of here."
Son of a bitch if the guy didn't break down the door on his first try getting out of there! Funniest god damn thing I ever saw!
www.avacal.com -- the home page of pete shaw
This is a variant on 'Poe Puree' written by Marcus Bales. Here is the official, unabridged, author-approved version. Marcus' is even more Poeesque IMHO.
Wouldn't YOU be frightened to find an MCSE in YOUR server room?
--
"Outlook not so good." That magic 8-ball knows everything! I'll ask about Exchange Server next.
Eddie worked at Fry's. It was an OK job he guessed, except when people asked him tough questions. Questions like, "Where are the car stereo?" and "Do you think this 2 GHz P4 is fast enough to run Microsoft Word?" Some days he found himself wishing to return to his old job at Burger King.
One day while trying to avoid customers back in the storage area of the warehouse, Eddie found himself lost in a maze of cartons. Upon turning a corner, he found himself faced by a monitor having a window holding the message:
Free P0rn!!!!
Click here for a good time!
Underneath this was a button that said only, "Enter".
"All right!" thought Eddie, "Free p0rn!"
He grabbed the mouse sitting beside the monitor and clicked...
Eddie found himself standing in a room with hundres of monitors. In the one directly in front of him he saw the monitor where he had stood only a moment ago. "Oh fuck," thought Eddie, "this must be the security area."
Suddenly a voice boomed behind him, "I am the Great SysMin."
"Huh?" said Eddie, turning around.
"I said, I am the Great SysMin!" said a tall man in a turban, "Your not very quick, are you?"
"Then this isn't security?" asked Eddie.
"No, not very quick at all," said the SysMin, rolling his eyes, "Look kid, this is where I live. I am the Great SysMin. I used to be a genie until they got rid of the lamp schtick. But we got a good union. the had management retrain us on this new equipment and... Well, we're back."
"A genie?" asked Eddie, "Like Aladdin and shit?"
That's SysMin to you, boy -- Great SysMin. Now I got a meeting to get to in twenty minutes, solet's cut to the chase."
Eddie interjected, "I know! I know! I get three wishes!"
"Can you just shut up?" asked the SysMin, "first of all, you don't get three wishes any more. Management said it was costing too much. What you get now is one click."
"One click?, asked Eddie, "What the hell is that?"
The Great Gen^H^H^HSysMin pointed to a gold encased monitor. Sitting in front of it were a keyboard and mouse whose buttons were jewels. "Here's the scoop," said the SysMin, "You get to use the mouse to select a web site. The left one goes forward, the right one goes back, and the middle button puts you into the site,"
"Puts you into the site?" questioned Eddie.
"Yes," said the SysMin, "Puts you into the site. You get to live there forever."
"Wow!" thought Eddie, "This could be great!
The Sysmin said, "In order to facilitate your search, may I help you select a site?"
"Huh?"
"No, not very quick at all," muttered the SysMin as he added, "What kind of sites do you want to look at"
"P0rn!" yelled Eddie, "The hottest, nastiest p0rn out there!"
The Sysmin sighed, "They always want p0rn. Just once I wish one of them would choose Congress. But...".
The SysMin led Eddie to the machine and set him in front of it. Eddie clicked the forward button time and time again. A plethora of beautiful young ladies flashed before his eyes. Blonde, brunette, redheads; old and young; partially or totally unclothed; many performing acts that... well, acts that would make Eddie's mother blush.
And suddenly, Eddie stopped, staring transfixed at the screen. Displayed there was the most beautiful woman that Eddie had ever seen. Flame red hair and liquid green eyes shone out at him. Her lips were ruby and perfectly formed. Clothed in only her own glory, her legs didn't seem to stop until they reached the most magnificent chest Eddie had ever seen.
"That's the one!" exclaimed Eddie, "She's it!"
"Amanda, " sighed the SysMin, "They all choose Amanda.
"Are you sure you have chosen wisely?" asked the SysMin, "What is done will never be undone."
"Yes, I'm sure! I'm sure!" shouted Eddie, "Send me there!"
The Sysmin said, "Then click the middle button and your dream will come true."
Maybe it was the fatigue from clicking the mouse so many times, and maybe it was the tension of anticipation that caused it. Eddie had just a moment to see that his finger had glanced the left mouse button before it finally landed on the middle one. With a quick glance at the screen, Eddie screamed in horror as he realized that he would not be with his beautiful Amanda throughout all eternity, but instead would be here.
His screams echoed and died away, mixed with the SysMin's chuckled voice, "Oh, yes. They always pick Amanda..."
It is said that one should never accept gifts from SysMins, for there is always a high price to be paid. A price that Eddie Smith would be tightly stretched to pay. His price? A one-way ticket to his own hellish corner of "The Geek Zone..."
That is all.