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5 First Responders Recount Their Scariest Ghost encounters

The ghoulish secrets the people who keep us safe keep…

By Author Eve S EvansPublished about a year ago 29 min read
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These stories, while unexplainable, are TRUE ACCOUNTS from first responders, police officers, firemen, and 911 operators told from the perspective of everyday people. Every single tale between these covers is one hundred percent true. These are the stories that keep us up at night, thinking about what could have caused these encounters.

1) Regrets

Weary, I sit on the edge of my bed after taking off my belt after working a double. I felt lucky to have missed the worst of the calls that night, but it also felt like the day had dragged on forever. The bottle of scotch above my refrigerator was calling to me, but the effort of getting up and pouring a couple of fingers was just too much for me. Heck, just the effort of pulling my uniform was going to tax me further than I wanted.

Everything is stiff and aching as I kick off my boots and get out of my shirt and slacks. I remember a time in my early years after the academy when I would still be game to go out with the other officers of my precinct even after a long day such as this. Time has caught up to me. Well, that and the people going to the normal officer dives are far younger than I am. It's hard to find something to talk about when everything they talk about seems to be in a code that I don't understand. No, drinking at home is much better.

I know I should take a shower, but sleep is more important than cleanliness right now. I set my alarm for the next day. Even though I don't want it to, my mind does the quick math telling me just how few hours of shut-eye I'll get before I have to check back in. Silently I curse it for the reminder I didn't ask for. Thankfully it doesn't take more than a minute before sleep pulls me under.

When my consciousness returns, my eyes fight me as I try and open them. It feels almost like someone has glued them shut. Frankly, if that were the case, I wouldn't fight too hard since then I could just go back to sleep. I'm still exhausted, so much so that I almost feel like I haven't slept a wink.

Grumbling, I turn over and blindly search for my phone to see how much longer I have. It feels like I have to peel my eyelids apart, but when I do, the clock tells me it is 2:31 in the morning. I have only been asleep for a little over an hour. I unceremoniously drop my phone back onto the table and pull my blankets up around me a little higher. My room feels colder than usual but leaving the warmth under the covers seems worse than checking the temperature on the thermostat.

A heaviness comes over me that hadn't been there before. I had felt it before many times as a police officer, and it had kept me from harm on several occasions. Something in my gut told me I wasn't alone, that someone was here with me. If that were the case, I didn't want to move too quickly for fear of spooking them until I knew I had to.

Slowly I opened my eyes and took in the dimly lit room. As my eyes passed one corner, I thought I saw someone standing in the corner facing the wall. It almost reminded me of a child that had been put in a timeout, but this was a full-grown man.

I didn't know what kind of threat this person presented, but with the fact they were in my home, I wasn't going to take any chances. My service weapon was lying on top of my dresser just 10 feet away, but lunging for it would possibly set the guy off. I had to make a decision, though, and I was intent on taking control first.

Untangling myself from the bed proved difficult, and the first couple of steps nearly had me sprawling headfirst. Luck was on my side, though, and I maintained my balance. Grabbing hold of my weapon, I drew it and turned, ready to fire at the first sign of motion. He hadn't moved, though. There he was, still facing the corner like a forlorn child.

"Hey buddy, what are you doing here in my house?"

I didn't get any response to my question, so I tried again. "I'm a police officer, do you understand me?" Again, nothing. It was like I was talking to a statue.

I lowered my gun and took one step toward him. The movement seemed to dispel whatever had kept him in place because he began to slowly turn around and face me. Even before turning all the way around, I knew the guy was in trouble. Two bright red stains had spread across his shirt. I've done this long enough to know what they were. The man had been shot.

"Oh god, hey, I'm going to call an ambulance. You have to get to the hospital." Slowly he shook his head but didn't say anything.

"Well, I can't just sit here and let you die." I made a move towards my phone, which was met by an even more vigorous shake of his head.

"Do you know who shot you?" He nodded. "Can you tell me?"

He raised his hand and pointed right at me. My first thought was that I had missed someone else in the room and spun around, raising my gun in the process. The only thing I saw was a picture that adorned the wall. Turning back around, he stood there, his accusatory finger still pointing right at me. For the first time, I looked at the man standing in my bedroom, taking in his facial features. Then, something in the back of my mind clicked, causing my jaw to drop. I'd seen this man before. He was right; I had shot him almost ten years earlier. But that wasn't the reason for my shock. He had been the first and last person I had ever killed in the line of duty.

A cold sweat covered my entire body, and I began to shake as I tried to figure out how this was possible. I'm dreaming, that has to be it... For nearly a year, I had a reoccurring nightmare where I would see myself shooting him. But with counseling, the dream had stopped, but this was different. The finger he had extended pinned me in place.

I placed the weapon down on my dresser with unsteady hands and stared at the man in front of me. He looked just like he had ten years before, right down to the two gunshot wounds. I kept trying to tell myself this was a dream or a hallucination brought about by exhaustion and stress. Ghosts don't exist.

"This isn't real. You're dead. I killed you." His blank face took on a look of sadness, but other than that, he didn't move from where he stood.

"This is a dream right, none of this is real?" He just sat there and continued to stare at me, giving nothing away. The fact that I was expecting a dream to tell me it wasn't real is pretty farfetched, though.

"No! I don't believe it! It's impossible!" I screamed at the apparition.

Without speaking a word or giving me any clue as to why he visited, he turned around and, facing the corner from which he came, seemed to shimmer and then disappear.

Afterward, I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to come to terms with what had happened to expect to wake up at any moment. The problem with that thinking, I was already awake.

For years I have tried to figure out the reason for me seeing what I did. I don't believe I hallucinated the entire thing, but a reason for him to be there? Maybe he was trying to get forgiveness or even telling me he understood I was only doing my job. Either way, it is something beyond my understanding. The one thing I do know is my opinion about whether ghosts exist or not has changed.

There are those of us that can go our entire careers without having to draw our weapons. A lot of that depends on where you are stationed as well as some luck. My past literally came back to haunt me. With any luck, he won't return and has found closure. Those of us who do this job may not all see the ghost of the people whose lives we took, but the memories can haunt us too.

2) Shadowed

I was sitting at the bottom of a small hill in my unmarked car, monitoring the traffic on the highway ahead of me. It was around two to three o’clock in the morning, and it was completely dark out. The roads were shrouded in gloom, and the moon was only a thinly veiled crescent in the sky.

Because of the long stretch of road, the whole highway was known for drivers going 15-20mph over the speed limit, so it was a good spot to hide out and flag down lawbreakers when they were least expecting it. Despite that, most officers at the precinct refused to patrol the area because of some rumors surrounding the same hill I was parked at.

The area had something of a reputation among the locals, due to being a crime scene almost twenty-six years previous. The body of a murder victim was discovered on the hill, but the case was never solved due to a lack of evidence and positive identification of the victim. Hyped up by the local media, no doubt, the area was long suspected of being ‘haunted’. People reported feeling nauseous or dizzy when hanging around the hill, and even the officers had bought into it, refusing to be stationed there. I didn’t really believe in that kind of thing, so it didn’t bother me when I was assigned this spot for traffic monitoring.

As I was sitting there, keeping an eye on the horizon for any oncoming headlights, something drew my attention. A shadow had just passed across the back of my unit, coming around from the passenger side. I blinked a couple of times, clearing the haze from my eyes from staring into the distance for too long, wondering if I was seeing things. But then I saw the shadow cross over to the driver’s side, moving across the front of the vehicle.

Other than the pale glimmer of the moon, there were no lights on the highway. The road was shrouded completely in darkness, making it impossible to see if there was anything there that could have cast a shadow.

That’s when I heard footsteps too. It was only faint, but it sounded like grass crunching soft beneath someone’s shoes, to the left of the vehicle.

I squinted through the window, but I still couldn’t see anything beyond the gloom.

Thinking there was somebody outside the car, I started up the ignition and switched on my headlights, casting a dazzling glare across the grass in front of the car.

With the whole area lit up, I looked out of each window to see who was out there. There was nobody. The shadow had been too large to be an animal, but there was nowhere out here for a person to hide. The hill was completely empty.

I began to feel somewhat unsettled by the thought there might be someone out there, walking around my car. It must have just been my imagination that conjured those shadows, but somehow, I felt convinced I wasn’t alone.

Shaking my head, I flicked off my headlights and settled back in my seat. I kept my hazard lights on, casting an eerie red glow around the car, just in case anything was out there.

The road itself had gone unusually quiet. Although it was the early hours of the morning, there were usually still cars on the highway at this time. Yet I could barely see the glimmer of a high beam in the distance.

The wind began to pick up outside, making the unit rock slightly. The grasses on the hill began to sway, creating anomalies in the shadows.

I forced myself to keep my eyes on the road, watching the horizon. Unease gnawed at my stomach.

Something moved past the car; a shadow, darting across my periphery.

My heart jumped, and I reflexively switched the headlights back on, flooding the hill.

There was nobody out there. No movement but for the wind rustling through the grass.

I decided it was time to leave. There hadn’t been a car driving past in some time, and I was starting to spook myself out. There wasn’t much point in hanging around anyway, especially since my shift was coming to an end.

As I set the car into motion and drove onto the highway, I flicked a glance up to the rear-view mirror. For a moment, my blood went cold. It looked as though there was someone standing in the shadow of the hill, watching me drive away. I quickly dragged my eyes back to the road, scolding myself for being silly. I was letting those stories get to me, that was all.

I didn’t stop feeling uneasy until I reached the next town, where the streets were well-lit and there was more traffic on the road. It was then that something blinked on my dashboard: the security camera. I pulled over to the side of the road and took the camera down from its hook. It must have been recording since I hit my emergency lights, which meant if there had been someone out there on the hill, the camera would have caught it.

I rewound the footage to where it began recording, and hit play, my heart thumping with nervous anticipation.

I hadn’t imagined the shadow after all. The video clearly showed a figure walking around the car, starting from the passenger’s side of the vehicle before moving around to the driver’s side. Then, for about half a second after, the entire video went black. It was almost as though someone had put their finger over the lens, smudging the visual. After that, it went back to normal, and there was no longer a shadow in view. I wound the tape forward a few more minutes, but the shadowy figure didn’t return.

I set down the camera, unease settling in the pit of my stomach as I wondered what it could have been. The shadow had no visual features, nothing to suggest it was a person, but what else could it have been?

I tried not to dwell on it as I drove back to the station. Maybe I just needed some rest, and the whole thing would seem silly in the morning.

Nevertheless, the next time I was asked to go to the hill to monitor traffic, I refused.

3) Beneath The Floor

The cadaver dog's nose passed back and forth along the ground as we canvassed the area hoping to find the body of our 22-year-old victim. Hoping to give the family closure, we were here to give the family a chance to bury their daughter.

We moved in a slow gird pattern ensuring we covered every square inch of ground outside the house. If we didn't find her here, we would try searching the house again. After that, I didn't know, this was where she was supposed to be, at least that is what {he} had told us in exchange for a few lousy extra privileges.

Every time the dog paused for the briefest of seconds my heart seemed to beat a little faster. I wanted to find her, more than I cared to admit. Tragic as it may be, doing so would give the family a chance to mourn her, rather than holding onto the hope, false as it may be, that someday she would show up at their door, safe and sound.

Unfortunately, every pause was met with a quick resumption of the search. If Tango found something he was trained to sit down on top of the suspected area. He was good at his job, and if she was here, he would find her.

It took us almost two hours to make our way around the outside of the home. He hadn't sat down which meant she, in all likelihood, wasn't out here.

Teams had searched the house already, but the captain had wanted us to "give the dog a shot". None of us really expected to find anything in the building but at this point, we were starting to get desperate.

From the moment the two of us entered the house Tango started acting strange. He was usually very easygoing and easy to control. Now though he was pulling erratically on his leash as if unsure whether he should run to or from something. It was taking everything I had just to keep hold of his leash.

We took turns dragging each other from room to room depending on what his mood was. His snout moves frantically back and forth along the floor, still searching for a scent. We cleared rooms quickly, at this point I was more along for the ride than actually controlling Tango.

I went to open one of the doors to a bedroom to allow him access and stepped forward quickly expecting him to continue with his frantic pace not noticing he had frozen in place. I twist, trying to avoid him, knowing I'm going to fall and hoping I don't crush him.

It's only a couple of inches, but somehow, I manage to circumvent the statue of a dog in front of me. I turn over and stare at Tango, trying to figure out what has gotten into this crazy mutt. One minute he is out of control and the next he sends me sprawling to the floor, unmoving.

I'm about to scold him, but then he surprises me for the second time in less than a minute. The heckles on the back of his neck are standing on end and his teeth are bared. A low growl escapes his throat, a warning. He isn't looking at me though, he is staring straight into the room with a laser focus in his eyes.

I've never seen him like this before. Sure, he is trained to protect himself and me when it is needed. That training though hasn't been needed. The look in his eyes is frightening, and I'm glad he isn't trained on me.

Still, on the ground, I look into the room a little afraid of what might be the cause of this odd behavior. The room is empty, with bare walls, and a bare floor. "Tango, what's gotten into you? Is there someone in there?"

I finally stand causing him to look up at me and give me a pitiful whine before turning back. This time though he starts barking, and nothing I do seems to be able to stop him. I'm about to call someone to help me when he suddenly bolts. I'm not ready and the leash is torn painfully from my hand.

I know I have to go after him but first I want to find out if there is something in here that might have caused the strange reactions. I take one step inside the room, and it feels as if the temperature drops nearly thirty degrees.

I jump back into the hallway, unsure of what had just happened. Tentatively I stick my hand out, testing to see if it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I can still feel the cold, it's almost like putting my hand over a vent while the air conditioner is on.

Now expecting the temperature change I venture deeper into the room. There was no clue as to what could be causing the anomaly, but I had a job to do. Off to my left, a noise draws my attention. It sounds like scratching and it's coming from the direction of the only other door in the room.

It must be a mouse or something...

Slowly, I make my way over to the door and turn the handle, expecting a small creature to scurry out as soon as I open it. No such thing happens, the only thing I see is a few empty hangers and a small, latched opening in the floor, probably the entrance to a crawlspace.

The scratching seems to be coming from beneath the floor. Now it is louder, almost frantic. My handshakes as I reach for the handle, not sure what I'm going to find on the other side. Like a band-aid, I grasp the handle and fling it open. Instinctively I jump back trying to gain some distance between myself and whatever is down there.

All I can see is a few inches into the opening from the angle I am at. I shuffle closer ready to follow Tango's example at a moment's notice.

It takes me a few false starts before I find the courage to turn on my light and look down in the hole. When I do my breath catches in my throat. The area is a small concrete square, only about eight feet by eight feet. But what is lying in one corner has my heart beating out of my chest. Curled in a ball at the bottom are some skeletal remains that are obviously human.

I immediately called for help on the radio. Immediately the room becomes a hive of activity as investigators dissect every inch of the space. When asked me how I found the body I told them about the scratching, the thing was though... the only thing down there was the skeleton.

4) On Track

The two tablets I had taken over an hour before had done nothing to quell the headache that gripped me since the start of my shift. Every time the siren on top of our cruiser peaked it sent a sharp stab of pain deep into my skull. In a desperate attempt, I rub my temples, hoping to relieve some of the pain. So far it had done nothing but give me something else to focus on.

My partner looked over at me, a look of sympathy on her face. "Still got a headache huh?"

The pain momentarily got the better of me. "Wow, they are going to have to promote you to a detective with those skills." I cringe knowing Hannah was just trying to be nice. "Sorry, it's really bad right now."

She'd been my partner for quite a while, and it would take a lot more from me than a pain-induced remark to turn her mood sour. She smiles at me from behind the wheel and picks up the radio. "This is Unit 57, we're about a minute out."

The radio traffic brought me out of my pity party and reminded me that we should be prepared mentally to deal with the scene we are en route to. A teenage girl narrowly escaped being run over by a train. At the last second, an employee in the yard pushed her out of the way. Unfortunately, he hadn't been so lucky.

One life was sacrificed for the mistake of another...

Up ahead I can see the engines, the large steel beasts that drag tons upon tons of cargo across this country. They are still tonight. Usually, they would be lit by the light of the moon, that night though they are glowing red and blue. The colors of tragedy.

At least fifteen other vehicles were their ambulances, a firetruck, a couple of pickups that belonged to the train company and a few other police cruisers. You'd have thought the whole city was out to mourn the death of this tragic hero.

The two of us moved quickly even though it was evident there wasn't much for us to do. It just felt wrong to look as if we were just there to check out the excitement.

The commanding officer on the scene was easy to spot. We made our way over to him so we could get our instructions. We and a few other officers were told to spread ourselves out in different locations around the train so that nobody would accidentally walk into the scene. Mainly we were supposed to keep the other employees away, but you never know when some interested party might try and sneak a peek.

I was dispatched to a location near the engine. On my way there I happened to walk by a couple of the train yard employees that were talking about the guy who had been hit. Apparently, his name had been Eric and he'd only been working there for a few months. I had to wonder not for the first time what kind of person would willingly push himself in front of a moving train to save the life of a perfect stranger. Sure, it was my job to protect people, that kind of thing is expected of you as an officer. But even those of us who wear the badge wonder if we have what it takes when that time comes.

I got to my post and radioed that I had arrived. In the past few minutes, other officers had done the same, including Hannah. Usually, things like this are fairly uneventful. Mostly it is just trying to keep yourself alert when nothing happens. In this case, though it only took me a few minutes before I noticed someone standing off in the weeds staring at the train. The guy was wearing a bright yellow vest like the rest of the yard workers but something about the way he was looking at the train was odd. It wasn't so much that he was looking at the train, but rather through it as if it wasn't even there.

I walked over to him so I could make sure he was okay. Someone being in shock after an incident such as this isn't unheard of.

I made sure I made noise walking over to him so as not to startle him. The rocks crunching under my feet would have been enough for most people but just in case I called out to him. "Hey, are you okay? Do you need some help?"

He continued to maintain his thousand-yard stare as if he hadn't heard me. "Sir, I'm a police officer, I'm going to get you some help. Can you tell me your name?"

At this point, I had made my way over to him. Something was definitely wrong with this guy, and I wanted to get him some medical help. I pressed the button on my radio, "This is Officer Jackson, I have a yard employee that is possibly in shock and in need of medical attention."

I look down at the patch on his vest to get his name. "The name on the vest is... it says his name is Eric. Wait, one moment." I already knew that Eric was the name of the employee that had been hit by the train and it took me by surprise. Eric wasn't exactly an uncommon name, but it was a bit eerie just the same.

I turned my back for just a second as I finished calling in the medical request. "Alright Eric, I have someone on the way..." In the few seconds that I had taken my eyes off of him, he had vanished.

I looked in every direction, trying to see which direction he had gone but I was alone. The idea that someone could have moved that fast to have disappeared from sight, not to mention that he hadn't made a sound. Somehow, he had managed to move across a bunch of loose rocks without alerting me to him. It just didn't seem possible.

I hear crunching behind me, and I turn expecting to see the employee but instead it is a paramedic trotting over to me. He stops next to me and looks around. "So where is this guy?"

I really don't know what to say. I mean he was here only a minute ago and now... We stand there staring at each other, an awkward silence stretches on until it becomes uncomfortable.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. "To be honest with you, I don't know where he went. He was standing here one minute and then he was just gone."

The paramedic at least has the decency not to ask me if I need to talk with someone like I've just had a mental break. Instead, he just turns around and jogs back in the direction he came. I know I'll probably be the topic of conversation later, but I don't really care at that moment. I turn in a complete circle once more trying to catch sight of the missing man. I don't see anyone and decide to return to my post.

The rest of the night goes off uneventfully, but the man and his disappearing act won't subside from my mind. On my way back to my cruiser I look for one of the guys in the yellow vests. The name Eric won't let my brain calm down. I have to know what the guy who pushed the girl out of the way looked like.

Finally, I find one of them standing alone. It is just as well since I don't really want an audience for what I'm about to ask. "Hey, I have a strange question, do you mind?"

He gives me a questioning look but nods. "What did the guy look like who was hit by the train, Eric?"

His expression darkens a little, but he pulls out his cell phone and scrolls through some pictures before stopping and turning the screen to me. The picture is of about eight men, but one face stands out. One of the guys in the picture is the one I had seen earlier that night. When his finger points out the same guy a chill runs up and down my spine. I don't even hear what he says afterward. It is all I can do to get back to the car.

5) Leading The Way

For almost a mile we had been able to see the bright orange glow that signaled our eventual destination. It was a three-story apartment complex, somewhere on the second floor a fire had broken out. Early reports were coming in that people were trapped by the blaze. Now, as I stared up at the building, it seemed inevitable we probably couldn't save everyone.

As I took my initial assessment of the scene, I saw that the heat had blown out many of the windows on the second floor. Pump trucks that had arrived before us were already engaged in battling the inferno with powerful jets of water streaming from fat hoses. Tongues of flame leaped out many of the vacant frames, their fiery touch leaving behind black scars on the siding.

Even from the distance I sat, the heat found its way through the layers of my suit. Those parts of me that weren't protected already had sweat beading up on my skin in a useless attempt to cool me. If those other trucks couldn't get the fire under control, none of us were going to be able to face the extreme temperatures inside, and the residents would be sacrificed to the flames.

I took all of this in a matter of seconds. Instinctively I grabbed my helmet and jumped from the passenger seat, ready to go to work. Our Captain had already disembarked and sought out the person who had taken charge of the units battling the blaze.

A little ways away, I saw him talking with another person who was pointing toward the building. With the hoses already manned, it looked like we were going to be the search and rescue team entering the building. In the best situations, this job can be dangerous, if not fatal. Going in while parts of the building are still on fire only multiplies the potential problems.

I hoisted the oxygen tank onto my back, and I grabbed the oxygen mask. One of my teammates mirrored my movements, as he also prepared to enter the inferno. The weight of the tank, although heavy, was familiar in its position. I'd trained with this piece of equipment so many times it had nearly become a part of me.

I thought that it was hot when we arrived, standing in front of the building I took an involuntary step back. Even though the fire was limited to the top two floors, the heat seemed capable of reaching down into my lungs and stealing the oxygen within them.

I secured my mask over my face, it smelled of rubber and disinfectant, and the oxygen flow allowed me to take breathe freely and cooled my singed windpipe. I took a few deep breaths and met my partner's gaze. We both nodded at each other and pressed forward into the building.

Every floor contained four units allowing us the possibility to clear the first floor quickly. Fortunately for us, the tenants had left their doors unlocked in their rush to flee the flames. We made a quick search of every room. Not finding anyone we made our way to the staircase.

When I opened the door, I didn't know what to expect. If it was completely engulfed in flames, that would mean finding another means of rescue. That would take even more time, and I was sure that was a commodity we were in short supply of.

Luck was on our side in this instance, a light haze filled the staircase and it still appeared structurally sound. We quickly moved up and entered the second-floor corridor. The smoke was thicker, and fire lined the right side of the hallway. Until we could get a hose crew inside, the risk was too great.

Out of nowhere, both of us see a young girl, maybe seven years old, dart between the two of us. She was wearing a dress; it was white with little purple flowers on it. Caught by surprise I didn't have time to reach out and grab her before she ran past us and straight through a wall of fire then disappeared through one of the cut-off apartments.

Neither one of us moved for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded by what we'd just seen. I mean, she just ran through the fire with no protection whatsoever. The prospect of letting the little girl burn to death was just too much for me to handle. Before I could talk myself out of it, I ran forward, following the same path.

I could feel my skin burning for a few seconds even through my protective suit. Oddly, the door to the apartment was shut, forcing me to put my shoulder into it. The fire had weakened the frame and I easily plowed through it and into the fire-filled room.

The little girl stood in a hallway, seemingly oblivious to the heat and smoke. She whirled around and raced down the hallway out of sight. I gave pursuit, the fire seemed to cover the ceiling of the entire apartment. I ducked down, trying to keep myself from being engulfed as well.

When I rounded the corner, I could see a door that had been left slightly ajar. I knew there wasn't much time left before this place became completely impassable. I darted forward, skipping every other door. When I entered the room I see a man, lying on his stomach, not moving. The girl though was noticeably absent.

I hoisted the man onto my shoulder and began to carry him towards the entrance. I knew he would suffer burns on his back, but that was a small price to pay if his life could be saved.

At this juncture, my partner entered and joined me inside. I told him that I still hadn't gotten the girl, but I needed to get the guy I was carrying down to an ambulance. He nodded his understanding and moved passed me to check the other two doors.

I made my way through the building and back outside. By the time I turned the victim over to a paramedic my back was sore, and I was desperate for a breath of the cool night air.

I stood there, trying to force myself to breathe normally as I waited for my partner to return with the child. Five minutes passed, far longer than it should have taken for him to check a couple of rooms, and I was starting to worry that something happened to him. I was about ready to go back in when I saw him lumber out of the building, but the little girl wasn't with him.

His gaze found me in the crowd, and he shook his head. I was sure he was telling me she hadn't survived. If that were the case though, he would have brought her with him. There was no way he would have left her in there, dead or alive.

He walked over to me and pulled off his own oxygen mask. "I couldn't find her. I checked every room, even the one you found the guy in, but she just wasn't there."

I'd worked with this guy for a number of years, long enough to know he wasn't someone to miss something like this. I know we had both seen her go into the apartment, and I know she had run down that hallway.

We spent the next three hours fighting the blaze, but we never were able to get onto the second floor again. When we tried to go back, the fire had spread to the point where the staircase had been completely blocked by the fire. In all, six people died that night in the fire. However, no remains of a young girl were found, and nobody claimed to have a child matching the age or description in their home at the time of the fire.

If my partner hadn't seen the same thing, I would have thought I'd imagined the whole thing. Somehow though, I was led to the exact right place to save a man's life.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you enjoyed these stories, please consider checking out my books on Amazon for more true tales of creepiness. Thank you again, and happy reading! Stories included in this article are ©Eve S Evans and may not be used without written consent from the author.

Eve Evans is a horror writer who specializes in ghost stories based on true events. She has also written some novellas and released her first full-length thriller novel, Beneath The Water, in June 2022. Later in 2022 she also released two more full-length thrillers, The Haunting of Lila Lamm and Frost Falls. She is also working on some other new thriller releases for 2023, including a thriller called Devious Waters. In addition to her writing, she also has podcasts called Forever Haunted, Bone Chilling Tales To Keep You Awake and A Truly Haunted Podcast where she tells audio ghost stories.

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About the Creator

Author Eve S Evans

After residing in two haunted houses in her lifetime, Eve Evans is enthralled with the world of paranormal. She writes ghost stories based on true events and fictional thriller & horror novels.

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