S2: Ep 2 Haunted and Cursed Items

In history there have been countless tales of cursed and haunted items. From Tutankhamun's tomb, to Annabelle the doll to the Dybbuk - but what if the teddy you got for Christmas was haunted? Or what if you came across a mannequin that brought you horrifying nightmares? 

In this episode, join M as she reads true tales of people who encountered everyday items that were haunted or cursed including one from her own parents. 

Story One: The Haunted Manequin by TheEduki
Story Two: Trunk by Miiiiiinx
Story Three: Teddy by JenKi
Story Four: The Wooden Statue by Mayilye
Story Five: The Blanket 

Credits & References:
Credits for sound effects: Sid Ghost (FEAR BUILD UP used in “The Trunk)
Quimbanda

Thank you for listening! 👻 This podcast is researched, written and produced by your host, M. If you'd like to support the podcast, you can buy me a coffee.

Submit your own stories or theories to chillersandthrillers@gmail.com.

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Transcript

0:39

Hello, and welcome back to chillers and thrillers. I am your host. And in this podcast, I read true stories of people's encounters with the strange and unexplained. No comedy gore, or true crime, only 100% true. Spooky tales. If you're a horror lover, you have heard of Anabel, the possessed, all that is now housed in the haunted museum of ed and the rain Warren. She's not the only possess doll in the paranormal world. It close competitor would be Robert, the doll who lives in key west Florida. Many television shows and other paranormal podcasts have covered these two cases extensively. because there's something incredibly intriguing, about an everyday item. Somehow becoming possessed by a spirit or demon. Similarly, there are also cases of cursed items, items that bring bad luck, negative energy. Or even death. to the people who dare own it or interact with it. For my listeners in the UK, a very famous case of a cursed item would be that of the crying boy painting. This painting reached infamous Heights in England in 1985. When a fireman from Yorkshire named Peter Hall was quoted in the sun. Telling the story of how fire brigades across the north of England had found the same picture of the crime boy. Untouched in house fires that had mysterious causes. Whole reportedly spoke out after his brother, Ron, who did not believe the story, bought a copy of the crime boy to disprove Peter's tale. And then found his home . mysteriously burnt down soon after. With, of course the painting of the Chrome boy intact in the middle of the charter remains. But what causes an item to be haunted or cursed? In my opinion, items can be cursed because they were used as a vessel For someone's or something's negative energies and emotions. Hatred envy anger cannot be distilled and attached to an item. Also many spiritual practices use items as a carrier for their curses and spells. When it comes to an end and being haunted, I have a few theories. The owner may have attached themselves to something that meant a lot to them during their lifetime. Or guided their energy into an item. Or in the worst cases, the items are seen as a holding place for a demonic entity. The item could also have been housed in a place with very high emotional energies that attach themselves to it. For this episode, I've gathered, tales from people who have experienced bad luck or hauntings after bringing home or finding an item. I hope you stay into our last story, which includes a personal one, told to me by my own parents. I'd like to think Reddit user, the Dukie, the author of her first story for allowing me to share their story. And for providing me some additional details regarding the nightmares they had with their haunted item. Thank you to my parents as well for letting me share their story. And before we get started, I also wanted to thank some people who have left me reviews on apple podcast. I finally figured out how to find them and it made my day to read some really nice reviews and kind of words. So thank you to Alyona as 87 from Australia and for my Canadian reviews from brushing a 59. And 87 starry night, 87. Now, get, comfortable. Turned down the lights. And listen in.... The haunted mannequin. By user, the Dukie. One evening. I was walking home from work and noticed someone's belongings in their driveways. On a bookshelf, right. Assigned saying something like free to a good home. I enjoy sewing. And these people had left some antique sewing machines out, which intrigued me. As I was looking at them and wondering why the owner just didn't try to sell them. And man approached me and stated that he had noticed my interest in the sewing machines. He told me that their landlord had sold their house and that they only had a couple of weeks before they had to move out. So they were giving their possessions away for free to get rid of them as quickly as possible to get ready for their move. I ended up chatting to his wife after him. She told me that she was a pagan and that she liked sewing. We talked sewing for awhile. And the next thing I know I'm being given a Taylor's mannequin. A vintage hotel, busboy style outfit, and two antique sewing machines. They were bundled into the man's car. And then they were taken around the corner to my house. My mom, wasn't happy with the situation. The sewing machines ended up in in the attic. Then we're taking to a charity shop. The bus boy outfit went out in the rubbish and the mannequin was put in my bedroom. Not long after the mannequin had been given its new home in my bedroom. I noticed a terrible stench of stale, urine and sulfur on several occasions. My room had no reason to smell like that. So the only thing I could think of. Was that the most likely cause was the mannequin. As it joined just as a smell had started. I then started getting bad feelings in my gut when going near the mannequin. And then . The horrific nightmares began. I have never experienced nightmares that terrifying before. In real life. The mannequin would stand in the corner of my bedroom. If you were looking directly towards it. My wardrobe was to the right of it. And my window was to the left. There's a streetlight on the other side of the road and it shines it to my bedroom, casting a dim glow. When my lights are switched off. Some nights in the dim light, you could see what I can only describe a smoky tendrils coming of the sides of the mannequin. The first night I saw that I became very confused. I put my bedside lamp on. And the tendrils disappeared. The tendrills at night were a common occurrence. The nightmares that I had were vile. And it would be the same each time. I would be in my bed and laying on my back. An awful ugly humanoid creature would appear. It has shiny black leathery skin. Bright red eyes with black pupils in a snout like a pig. The pig creature with climb up onto the foot of my bed. Crawl up to me so that it was above me and then proceed to grab me around the throat with both long fingered hands and start to strangle me. As it did. So it would lean forward and down. And bring its face close to mine. And while doing it, it would snarl. baring teeth and frown. Eventually I would manage to break out of its clutches. I'm assuming this is when I would wake up and I would dive to my bedside lamp to turn it on . Surprise surprise. The creature would be gone. I would have this nightmare every night. They started at least a week after getting the mannequin and only stopped when I got rid of it. About two weeks after I got the mannequin, I couldn't cope anymore. I took the mannequin apart and I put it in the bin. I stopped having them nightmares immediately and the smell of stale urine in sulfur disappeared. Both the smells and the nightmares have never returned. The Trunk submitted by user Minx. My husband and I were renting a small house in 2008, just after we had our daughter. One day and my husband's work. The publishing company with whom he was employed, asked if he'd help clean out an old warehouse the owner had, and he came home with a bunch of random office supplies that she was willing to give away, like floor lamps, and a humongous solid Oak desk. The coolest piece, however, was a trunk the owner couldn't remember procuring. It was at least two feet tall and three feet wide. It was so old that the leather strap handles on the sides had dry rotted away. There were faded spots on the base out there that covered the surface and the shape of stickers. That one might've acquired when traveling by train or boat many decades ago. And the insights had been shoddily replaced with faux satin lining that was tacked in one spot on every corner and sagged like draperies. Revealing of wood interior with dark blotchy stains in it. We're into vintage things. So we were excited to integrate this little eclectic piece into our living space. And that's when the weirdness started. My daughter was right at the age where she would walk around the room. But had to be holding onto a sturdy surface to do it. She loved doing this all over the house. But suddenly was very, very afraid to go over into our dining area, which is where the trunk was. Toddlers are afraid of weird things. So I didn't think anything of it. Likewise when she started looking up over my shoulder, as I sat on the couch. And screaming and crying at something behind me. Well, that may sound negligent on my part. Please understand that toddlers cry often about nonsensical things. I kept looking over my shoulder into the dining area, but never saw anything. I only started to get a little worried when our extremely chill, six year old cat stood next to her and started arking her back and hissing at the same spot in the dining room. I'm no idiot. Everyone knows to take babies and animals. Seriously when they're freaking out at something invisible. My cat and kid hissed and screamed at the invisible thing for about a week before, whatever it was decided to quit mesing around. And make itself. Undeniable.

I woke up at 2: 10:44

00 AM one morning to hear rustling in her kitchen. I leaped out of bed thinking I need to go reprimand the cat out of whatever he got into. I saw him sleeping at the foot of our bed. The rustling didn't stop. My husband jumped up and went to investigate the noise while I went in to check on her sleeping baby. And we reconvened in the bedroom after finding nothing out of the ordinary. Then in a moment, I can't really explain. I was drained of all my terror as I saw a bluish white flash of light in the window of our bedroom. That looked like it had come from a tiny source, like a camera phone. But had more blue to it. Please know that I'm normally a total worse, but for whatever reason, I was completely calm. As I wondered over to see what could have permeated the thick blinds we had drawn over the windows. Our house backed up to a pond. And if the light source had been held by someone, that person would have had to be 10 feet tall to compensate for the slope down into the water and the angle from which the light came. Naturally, I didn't see anything or anyone. In rather uncharacteristically, I just went back to bed and to see. As if the most terrifying paranormal experience I'd seen, hadn't just happened. The next morning, I was still in a daze. I've done the usual morning routine of feeding my daughter breakfast and putting her in her little walkie thing to play while I clean dishes. When I heard my cat scratching to get out of our office. As I dropped off my hands to go back and freedom. I spotted him sitting next to my daughter on the den floor. Remembering the events from the night prior. I got freaked out. And at that moment, two hand-carved salad spoons. My sister had brought back from Muganda, began to side forward off the shelf, where they sat with other souvenirs in the dining area. As I saw them tip over the ledge by themselves. I darted over, grabbed my daughter and yelled get out of here. I don't even remember putting on shoes or grabbing my purse before we were in my car peeling out of the garage. In a panic. I drove over to the local health food shop to get some Sage. I stocked up on sea salt and Sage, and then realized I had no intentions of taking my little girl back into that house. I'm positive. My mom thought I was having a mental breakdown from sleep deprivation. When I showed up at her place and a little later told my story in genuine terror. She's a devout conservative Christian, and just sort of sat there in silence while I told her everything. It took me talking to my husband on his lunch break for us to make the connection that all of this had started when the trunk arrived in the house. One of my older friends is very attuned to the spiritual realm. So naturally I called and begged her for advice. She suggested dragging the trunk outside sprinkly with sea salt. And locally source and consecrated Springwater and letting it sit out in the sun all day. Wide open. So the light could penetrate a way, the bad energy. And of course smudge my house while singing meditating and chanting positive banishment affirmations. I left my daughter with my mom and went back to the house to try this experiment with the trunk. The house was unnaturally warm inside, even though it was September. And like most people in the American south, we hadn't yet turned the heat on. After dragging the trunk outside, I was overcome with the feeling like I was going to vomit. But the minute I ran inside to use the bathroom. The feeling dissipated and the house was cool again. By the end of the day, I just didn't want to hassle with it anymore or risk the consequences of what would have happened if we'd somehow further angered this energy . So I dragged it to the curb for the garbage crew to collect the next day. That night, my husband suggested that maybe we should put a note in it. To warn anyone not to take it. But when we went outside to do so, it was gone. After almost a month of increasingly weirder activity in the house. Everything stopped. My daughter and our cat never, ever freaked out like that. The rest of the time we stayed in that house and everything went back to normal. As though it had never happened. And as much as we adore vintage furniture, the trunk we got to replace, this one was shamelessly purchased From a national chain store. Where it was blissfully mass produced without any evil infestations. Teddy. Submitted by user Jen, Kai. When I was little, we lived on a family land on the side of a mountain Ridge above a deep hollow. The air is always cooler in that depression of land. It feels so much heavier than just a little ways up the hill. So many creepy things happen in that house. I'll tell you a few before I get to the worst. My mother tells the story of the first thing that happened not long after she and my dad married and moved in and in this evening had some friends over. As they're sitting in the kitchen, the lady friend starts to tell ghost stories. All of a sudden. My mom said, it sounded like the most blood curdling scream you have ever heard was right out the front door. Then they heard something like banging and wood splintering. My dad ran outside and came back in as white as a sheet. They had a porch that ran the length of the front of the house and something had ripped and splinter the railing and banisters off and threw it all over the front yard. In a matter of seconds. They're friends left and never would come back. In the house, there was a long hallway from the living room to my parents' room. My sister and I both had a room with doorways entering that hallway. I hated it. I hated to even walk down it to my room. It always felt like something was watching me. I would leave my door open at night. It would most of the time sleep in my sister's room because I was so scared. I would watch from my bed as figures would walk up and down the hallway at night. It scared me to death. And I would always call out for my mom or dad and they would think it was just my imagination or something. After a while my parents just quit coming and I quit calling out. Those figures never took any notice of me or my sister. So I kind of got used to them. And fortunately they weren't the only things there as I was about to find out. When I was eight, I really wanted Teddy Ruxpin and grubby dolls for Christmas. It was the eighties and they were on all the commercials. We didn't have much money. So to my amazement, they were both under the tree on Christmas morning. I was thrilled. I couldn't wait to listen to their stories and play with them. We set them both on the dresser at the foot of my sister's bed, since I slept in her room most of the time anyway, so we could share them. Uh, my sister was four at the time. The months that followed where some of the scariest of my life. The first thing that happened was with a doll that I loved. All of a sudden something wasn't right about her. I just started to be scared of her. I would put her in one place, then come back and she would be in another. So I put her away in a sealed hamper that no one used. In about a week, I went back to see if she was still there. She wasn't. I kid you not. So I asked my mom if she had gotten her out., and she didn't even know the hamper I was talking about. So I showed her. She said no. She would have remembered because this was up until a few weeks before my favorite doll that I took everywhere. I never saw that doll again. My stuffed animals that had smiles on their faces with turn to frowns and frowns with turned to smiles . I even went as far as to write down which ones had smiles before I left for the day. So I could make sure I wasn't imagining it. I wasn't. We had a poster on the wall at night and the faces on it would distort into the most hideous things you have ever seen. I slept on the top bunk one night and heard whispers of my name. All night long. I had to hide under the covers to block out the red eyes, looking at me from the closet. Things then really took a turn for the worst with Teddy. Teddy started talking to me. Not like a wire loose playing his tape without pushing play kind of thing. I mean really mean messed up stuff. And if I told my parents, he would threaten me in them. And that he wanted to hurt us in various ways. I was very protective of my little sister, so I never told her. And I moved the Teddy and grubby dolls to my room that I didn't sleep in. Teddy would say things like I better be good to him or else. And then the daytime, if I would go into the room. His eyes with sometimes glow. It got so bad that I was terrified to sleep or go in my room and started to ask my mom to get rid of them. She got really upset because she had paid a lot of money for them. And like I said, money was tight. I think back now. And I wonder why I just didn't take him out back and burn him myself. But I was little and was always aware of how hard my parents worked and how little money we had. So I try to be good to them. I would brush their fur and sing to them, hoping it would help. It didn't. My cousin came to spend the night with me and we had to call her mom to come and get her in the middle of the night. She would never tell me what happened, but you would never come back to my house. Finally after about a year, my mom got rid of them. I don't know where they went and I don't care. Whatever sinister thing that went into the doll left with it. Remember what I said about my little sister that I never told her, because I didn't want her to be scared. I promise you. I never uttered a word to anyone except my mom in hushed tones outside for fear that he Teddy would hear. About five or six years after that, we had moved into a different house up above the hollow. My sister came to me and asked if I remember Teddy and grubby. I froze in my tracks. I turned to her and said that I did and then asked her why. She started to tear up and asked me if they ever talked to me when no one else was in the room. If Teddy had ever said terrible things to me and said not to tell. I stood there dumbfounded. I started to cry and said, yes, it happened to me too. I couldn't believe it. She can't remember a lot because she was only five, but she remembers it. And she said, Teddy hated me the most. I pray someone burned him and buried the ashes and he 50 foot hole. My family still has a couple of storage buildings on that land below where their house is now. The original double-wide has been moved. I still hate to walk down there today. It really feels like you're walking where you should not. The wooden statute submitted by user Melee. About 10 years ago, my husband and I were cruising a church run thrift shop. There was a magnificent wouldn't statue of a woman. It was four foot tall from either Bali or Borneo. It reminded me of a ship's figurehead in style, and I fell in love with it right away. But I thought that it would be far too expensive. When it turned out to only be $15, I bought it and hauled it home. Within days. Things started to get weird. Out of nowhere items would fly off our shelves or get knocked over. My husband and I started seeing a dark flash out of the corner of our eye. It's unnerving in a real hassle and very disruptive at the same time. After a few weeks of this one night, I had a strange dream. I dream of the statue. She tells me her name and tells me she wants to be honored. She asks for flowers. The next day I buy some fabric flowers and leave them at her feet. And all the activity stops dead. Even after this long, if the flowers get disturbed. All the activity restarts. Before I get started with our last story. I wanted to provide some background for any new listeners. My family is originally from Brazil and Brazil has a very rich history and is incredibly multicultural, which has led to some very interesting religious practices. The majority of the Brazilian population is Catholic. However many people in Brazil are also very superstitious and believe in some form of witchcraft or spiritualism com. It's not uncommon for me as a kid growing up in some Pollo to come across burnt candles and roses on the street corners or the beach offerings to a Saint or spirit. There are specific religions in Brazil that emerged from the African slave trade and has evolved to become a mix of Catholic imagery. African possessions and religions and spiritual ism based on French philosopher, Alan Kardec's views on spirituality and contacts with spirits. These religions believe in the communication between our world and the spiritual world. And also believe in the ability of spells and offerings to either help someone in their life or curse someone. There's a lot of nuance regarding these religions and I won't be able to cover it all. So I do recommend doing some of your own research. If you're interested in learning more. These religions and practices go by different names, such as Bunda. Kondo black and Macumba. During the late 19th century and into the mid 20th century, macumba was a pejorative term for all non-Christian religions that redeemed primitive, demonic, or superstitious. But as the African culture continued to blend with the Brazilian culture, Macola morphed into two religions. Umbanda and Quimbanda. Quimbanda represents the aspects of Macumba. Coumba that remained unchanged by Catholic beliefs. It was deemed the Macumba of Macumba. Because a Quimbanda ritual called, uh, trabalho. Consists of several parts. A motive. Dedication to a spirit. Uh, marginal location, metal or claim material. An alcoholic drink. A scent. And food. The motives for each ritual are usually assigned or associated with the color as well. So for example, white is for honest and justice bound motives. While, red and black. Are representing an aggressive and illicit motive. All of this has to say. That Quimbanda is usually the religious practice that. Dabbles more into dark magic. Or aggressive motives. Lastly, it's not uncommon for people who consider themselves Catholic or Christian to sometimes dabble in Macumba. Either by visiting a practicing Umabnda or Quimbanda center and asking for assistance. And offering or a ritual. As you may know from season one, my mother had a very strange encounter with an entity that attached itself to her while she was pregnant. But it's very important to note that both my parents are sensitive to spirits and energies. I'm sure this won't be the last story of either one that I will share on this podcast. Now. On to our story. In 1980, my father had broken off an engagement. That had lasted a few years. A few months after this, he met and started dating my mother. My mother's family is from the north of Brazil, from a state called Sierra. And if you remember, from my episode in Appalachia, the people from this region of Brazil are unfairly characterized as low class and lazy. Equal to being called a redneck or hillbilly. Especially in the late seventies and early eighties, which is when this story takes place. There was extreme prejudice against people from this area of Brazil. My father grew up in a working middle-class neighborhood. So his family considered my mother beneath them and did not trust her motives or her when she initially started dating my father. The especially cannot understand why my father would not get back together with his fiance. They had all held hope. The fiance included. That he would get back together with her, someone who was more their kind and grew up in that neighborhood. The story goes that the fiance who had ingrained herself within his family while they were together was also very upset to learn that my father had moved on. And was in a serious relationship. The rumors in their close-knit neighborhood were that she had wished death on my mother multiple times. Flash forward two years. My parents are married and have welcomed their first child. My oldest sister. My sister was born premature and was not able to leave the hospital for a few weeks. So many friends and family members would go over to my father's family house and drop off gifts for the new baby. My father has a large extended family and both my parents had a large group of friends from their work. So there were many gifts that were set aside for my parents and a month or so after my sister was born, my parents went over to introduce the baby and pick up the gifts. When they arrived home and we're impacting the presence. My father noticed a strange black and red blanket among the gifts. It wasn't wrapped. It was simply in a plastic bag. No tag and no card attached to it. Both my parents thought it was strange to have a red and black colored blanket as a baby's gift. They were such strong injuring colors. But being new parents on a tight budget, they weren't ones to turn away gifts and put it away in a closet. My father tells me that he got a bad feeling right away when he saw this blanket. He asked my mom to try not to use the blanket. Cause he didn't like it. And there was something off about it. A few days later,, there was a cold spell in the city. If you're familiar with south American countries, most home do not have heating or a central heating source. So it can become very, very cold during the colder months. Because my sister was premature. She had very serious acid reflux and would throw up a lot. And on this day, she had sped up on almost all her baby clothes and blankets. Out of desperation due to the cold. My mom ended up using the red and black blanket while she waited for the clothes to dry. Whenever I wrapped her in this blanket, she would just cry and scream. I thought maybe the material was a bit rough on her skin. So I rubbed it on my face to see if it was prickly. But it was soft. My mom retells. My mom had a bad feeling about the blanket. But since all the other items we're still hanging to dry. And she didn't want the baby to go cold. She had to use it. This went on for hours. The baby would cry and not be consoled, but the minute my mom took the blanket away. She would stop. When my father got home late that night, my mother told him about the blanket and how my sister had been crying all day. She ended up having to wrap the baby and one of her sweaters to keep her warm. And put the blanket aside. My father instinctively knew the blanket was to blame. He got a bad feeling. The minute he saw that blanket. And it wasn't a coincidence that my sister would stop crying. The minute the blanket was off of her. He knew he had to not just throw the blanket over, but destroyed as well. So that night he took the blanket to a drainage ditch behind the house. Through alcohol on it and set it on fire. I stood there until the fire went out and I knew the blanket was destroyed. Whatever was going on with it. I had to know it was completely ruined. My father tells me. The next day, my father called one of his sisters and asked if they knew who had gifted the blankets since it was so distinct, it should have been easy to tell. No one knows for sure. But the family members I'll believe that it could have been a gift from his ex fiance. Now flash forward to many years later. My father's family has finally accepted my mother. And when we lived in Brazil, we would frequently have Sunday lunches with my dad's family and his extended family as well. Once. One of his cousins was having a conversation with my mom and she had been friends with the ex fiance. And in her conversation with my mother, she let it slip. That when the ex fiance found out that my father was engaged to my mother. She sold her car and paid someone high up in Quimbanda to put a curse on my mom. And her children. As long as she was with my father, she wanted my mother to suffer. My mom doesn't think it's a coincidence that you had such a hard time in her pregnancy. Almost died during childbirth and my sister was born premature. And it's definitely no coincidence that the blanket was red and black. But. As my mom noted when she told me this story. Inuit Bunda and keen Bunda, nothing is without cost outside of the financial realm. Macumba will only last a certain amount of time. And that energy. We'll then return to the person who ordered it. And that's all for this episode. So. What are your thoughts? Do you believe in curses? Have you ever been in a thrift store and come across something that was just off? As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and stories. Lastly, if you would like to support the podcast you could do so in a few different ways. You can follow the YouTube channel. Rate and review the podcast and share with your paranormally inclined friends and family. Thank you so much for taking the time of day to listen. I know there are many different podcasts and media that you can be investing your time in. And I sincerely appreciate that you took the time to listen to me and to my podcast. I hope all your goals and go stay safe. And I'll see you in the next episode.