Scent of a Ghost PT. 2

This takes place at the same company I mentioned in the previous post.

On those nightly walks, I would pass a smoking area. One of the engineers that stayed on site for the 2nd shift was a prankster and all around goofy guy. Smart as hell, he knew his job well. He did have moments where he just seemed a little out there though. Every break I would see him in the smoking area having a cigarette. Sometimes I would stop and join him, other times just say wsup and go about my business. I have heard stories about how he is outside of work, and how he’s even more crazier at parties (I witnessed it too lol). He doesn’t get reckless or anything, but when he parties, he goes hard.

He had a particular posture when he smoked. Something like this

One Friday, he kept talking about a big party he wanted us to go to. If we wanted to see him go super HAAM he told us to come through, and we’ll see how his whole clique also goes HAAM. I ended up not going cuz I heard some stories from co-workers that his crew bust out with some hardcore drugs at their parties, and I’m cool off of that. The end of the shift came, and he told us he hopes he’ll see us there. The weekend went by quick like usual. Monday came and he didn’t show up at work. Tuesday came and we heard terrible news… That night of the party he overdosed on heroin.

Sad news spread across the company. We attended his viewing, then went on with our lives. A week past, me and some of my co-workers did our nightly walk. The air that night was different. It was also oddly quiet. Not even crickets were chirping nor wind blowing. As we approached the smoking area, we smelled cigarettes. No biggie, probably just someone smoking. As we got closer to the smoking area we see cigarette smoke and a silhouette of someone with the same posture as the engineer that passed away. By the time we got to the smoking area, we all fucking froze. There he was, clear as day having a cigarette wearing his work shirt. We watched him inhale the cigarette smoke and exhale it out. I even saw the glow of the ember. I blinked, others did a double take, and in that instant he was gone. The smoke in the air was gone along with the smell of cigarettes. It felt like we stood there for 10 mins, perhaps it was less. But I remember we all stood there quiet for a period of time, then we all looked at each other and tried to comprehend what we saw.

Paranormal experts say there’s various types of hauntings. Intelligent, residual, demonic, supernatural, etc. I feel this was a residual haunting. Meaning, what we saw was possibly the reenactment of his daily patterns. If we would of tried to contact him he wouldn’t even know we were there. A piece of him didn’t move on, yet. But there’s a chance that it could of been an intelligent haunting… Perhaps he wanted to have one last cigarette and say hello. Or maybe he wanted to know why we didn’t show up to the party. What if he wanted to tell us about the party in the after life…?

Scent of a Ghost

When I was a child I remember always smelling a pleasant fragrance at night coming from my mother’s garden. I come to find out that the fragrance came from the Dama De Noche flower, which is a night blooming Jasmine.

A good legend behind the flower can be found here.

However, what some may not know is that the flower grows in cemeteries and graveyards in the Philippines as well. A pleasant smell should be used to remember someone right? Well, that and to cover up the smell of the dead…

Many years ago when I was still living in Sacramento, I used to work at a company that was across the street from one of the oldest Cemeteries in Sacramento.

As a child I used to be afraid of places like that, but as an adult I find it to be one of most peaceful places to visit. Death is the only freedom from this physical world. And I do not mean that in a negative nor sad way at all. I used to go that cemetery and sit; enjoy the silence. At times I would meditate, some times just take a stroll.

I worked a 2nd shift at that job. My last break would be at 10 PM, and sometimes I would take a walk outside the facility and stroll by the cemetery. I been inside the cemetery many times, not once have I seen a Dama De Noche plant from all the times I visited there. One night as I took my nightly stroll I happened to smell the flower, and the fragrance was super strong. HELLA STRONG. I thought to myself, maybe there’s a plant around my facility that I never noticed? By having a mother who is a green thumb, I am very knowledgeable when it comes to plants and very aware of my surroundings. I can spot that plant from a far, but yet I never recalled seeing one around nor ever smelling it before on other nightly walks.

After finishing my quick walk and my last 15 min break of the night, I head back into my job. My shift ends at 12:30AM, around 12:15AM I would clean up my area and then head to a restroom further away where people don’t really use (because it’s cleaner). As I enter the restroom I get a blast of the Dama De Noche fragrance. I freeze in my tracks. It’s soo strong, it’s as if someone is holding the flower under my nose. In that moment I recall a story my mother told me as a child. She said if you smell this flower and the plant is not around, it’s most likely a spirit is visiting you. 💀

I finish my shift and make my way to my car. I sit there to let my stock GSR warm up (Goes to show how long ago this was lol). As I’m sitting there I think to myself what or who can it be that visited me? An ancestor? Or maybe a spirit from the cemetery? Or maybe I’m just bat shit crazy 🦇💩🤪? Who ever it may have been, I started smelling Dama De Noche in my car. Best believe I drove home with the windows down…

Go pay your respects to the dead. Visit a random cemetery and show them your love and respect, even if you don’t know them. For that they are free from this physical bullshit and drama of life.

“Nothing is dead: men feign themselves dead, and endure mock funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out of the window, sound and well, in some new and strange disguise.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

That sound.

Based on a true story… Many years ago…

A man is driving down the road and his car breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, “My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?” The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, tow his car to the monastery and even fix it.

As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he’s ever heard before. The sound is very peaceful and healing. He doesn’t sleep that night. Instead he stays up studying the sound. Measuring the rhythm… It’s almost as if he can measure the hertz as well…

The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” His car gets fixed and the man leaves. Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and asks for the answer again. The monks reply, “We can’t tell you. You’re not a monk.” The man says, “If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk.” The monks reply, “You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk.” The man sets about his task.

After years of searching, it is now present day. He returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks. “In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only the Universe knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception.” The monks reply, “Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound.”

The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, “The sound is beyond that door.” The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond. Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, “This is the last key to the last door.” His life’s wish is behind that door. With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the knob, and slowly pushes the door open. Finally he is utterly amazed to discover the source of that peaceful sound… But, of course, I can’t tell you what it is because you’re not a monk.

A story about an Aswang

Aswang: A shapeshifting evil spirit that is popular in Filipino culture. It is a combination of a vampire, a ghoul, a witch, and a werebeast.

This story takes place in the Philippines in the late 1970’s. My mother gave birth to my oldest brother. Months go by and my brother learns to walk. She wants to visit her friends so that they can all witness him walk all on his own. My father was serving in the US military at that time, he was on duty this day.

My mother and brother leave their house by Jeepney to visit one of her friends a few miles away. My mother’s side of the family is well known in her town, when they board the jeepney, the driver greets her by name and congratulates her for having a baby. It is a cheerful day for my mother.

They get to her friend’s house and it just so happens that other friends are there too, all greeting her and showing love. They’re having a great time, but as you know, time flies when you’re having fun. The sun is about to set soon and she tells them she needs to get back home. They board the last jeepney run of the day, and it’s the same driver as earlier. Eerily, they’re the only ones on the Jeepney, even the driver is somewhat puzzled. To break the silence they start conversing, then they all hear a few popping noises from the front of the jeepney, then the motor shuts off. It is really odd because the driver states he keeps his jeepney up to date on maintenance and he just had it serviced the other day. Luckily, my mother and brother aren’t far from their home. With my mother knowing everyone in her town, she feels safe walking the rest of the way. There’s a little bit of sun still showing on the horizon and it should be enough light to get them home without being left in the dark.

That evening was different according to my mother. It was as if everyone went inside earlier than usual. She felt an unpleasant vibe over her. She feels she’s just freaking herself out and starts to think of something else to get her mind off of fear, suddenly out of nowhere she hears snorting. She grabs my brother’s hand and looks around, nothing. Continuing on their path she hears it again, it sounds like a pig. She’s not so scared anymore because she knows there’s a lot of pigs around that area. Feeling relieved she keeps walking and sees a landmark; a church, signifying they’re almost home, but then she hears the pig once more but louder and closer. She turns around and sees a large black pig, the biggest she has ever seen in her life. She stops in her tracks and stares at it intensively. The pig stops as well and stares right back, she never witnessed a pig behave like that before. Scared, she grabs my brother and begins to walk faster. The pig starts following them. They zig zag back and forth, crossing streets, but the pig continues to follow them. Finally, they maneuver in between some buildings to try to lose the pig, success. Giving a sigh of relief, she takes one more peek over shoulder to make sure it is gone, and she screams. The pig comes walking around a corner of a building sideways, the same way a crab walks sideways. She picks up my brother and runs screaming for help. She can hear the pig snorting and getting closer and closer. She sees the church in the distance and darts towards that direction screaming in fear. The people of the church hears her and she tries to signal to them that something is chasing her. The priests runs toward their direction. Just as she’s trying to point and yell at what is chasing her, she turns to point and sees a very fast blurry object shoot up into the sky a few yards behind her, and the pig is nowhere in sight. By this time they’re at the entrance of the church and the priests are at their side. Shaken in fear she tries to make out the words to describe what happened. Out of breath, my mother manages to say “It chased us… Then it shot up into the sky…”

The priests look at her, then at each other. They all do a prayer and bring my mother and brother into the church. After she calmed down and comforted my brother from all the crying, she contacted my father who is already at the house worried about them. My father drives to the church and hugs them. They all discuss what she experienced, and even the priests explained how they also saw something blurry “fly” up into the sky very fast, but that’s all they saw, none of them saw a pig. My mom, being exhausted and still shaken in fear, tells my father she just wants to go home. As they are saying good-byes and thanking the priests, an old elderly priest who happen to hear everything that was going on, steps out from the shadows and grabs my father by his shoulder. The elderly priests whispers to my father “it was an aswang…”

A story of a Kapre

Kapre: A tree elemental spirit that looks like a great mixture of human and ape. It is generally a giant, 8 feet tall, with black or brown, long course hair including a beard and eyes that burn like a cigar tip. Its favorite activities include smoking cigars, misleading travelers, tricking people, gambling, and drinking.

But to some, they can be very friendly and can actually be a companion…

This story takes place in the Philippines. My friend’s dad Willy, was a well known biker and gun enthusiast in his province. One day he was cut off by a Jeepney causing him to be thrown off his motorcycle. In anger he pulls out his hand gun, ready to shoot at the Jeepney. But he knows how irrational that is and calmly puts it away.

Looking at his motorcycle, it’s not as bad as he thought, it can be fixed. That night he gathers some of his friends to come over and have a night dedicated to fix his bike, along with some drinks and smokes of course. He lives deeper into the province, away from the city. The area where they are all kicking it has a tree near them. The night goes on and they’re shooting the shit, drinking, smoking and cracking jokes. One of his friends who is a prankster says a funny joke and they all bust up laughing, but then they all hear a laugh that’s distinctly different. Things get quiet for a second and they all looked around. Nothing. They all thought maybe they’re all tripping and it’s probably the alcohol fuckin with their heads or something. They paid no attention and went along with their night.

A few hours pass and the bike gets fully repaired. Another friend cracks a joke about how he hopes the bike doesn’t take another fall since it’s fixed now. They all laugh and then they hear the distinctive laughter again. They all look at his prankster friend and ask if he’s pulling some prank on them, but he’s just as shook as the rest of them. They all grab their guns and yell if anyone is there. No answer. Suddenly the tree which is a few yards away from them shakes violently. Confused and scared they all aim at the tree. They give a fair warning saying they will light up the tree with gun fire if anything is there. Taking consideration that it is pretty late and waking up the rest of their province with gun fire will be very startling for the residents. Willy signals to his friends that he’ll do one shot at the tree as a fair warning. He aims and pulls the trigger, nothing fires. He’s bugging out because as a gun enthusiast, along with the rest of his friends, they always keep their guns clean and up to par. Willy aims again and pulls the trigger, nothing happens. The tree shakes violently and they all hear a loud laughter coming from it. Willy aims away from the tree and pulls the trigger and the gun fires. Scared and shook he aims back at the tree and the gun doesn’t shoot. He looks at his friends and they’re all backed up against the house and look scared as fuck. One friend breaks out in a prayer and starts apologizing, that’s when they all realize they’re dealing with a supernatural presence. Willy puts the gun down and starts apologizing too. He starts saying he meant no harm and his actions were due to him being in fear. They hear some movement in the tree, then it’s quiet. Willy’s dad then peeks outside and walks out asking wtf is going on. They all turn to Willy’s dad in silence. Willy’s dad then says “All your eyes are bloodshot! Wtf are you guys doing?! Go home everyone!”

The next morning Willy wakes up with his chest feeling heavy and with a cough, like he’s been smoking all night long. If you’re a smoker, you know how it is when you’re hanging out with your friends on a night of drinking, you chain smoke. But his chest feels like he was chain smoking Swisher’s all night, like he was smoking something heavy and thick like a backwood cigar. Willy gets up and goes to the kitchen and sees his dad sitting on the porch looking towards the tree. He goes up to his dad and apologizes about last night. His dad sits there quietly then points at the tree. “That tree was there way before we built this house. I wonder what’s the age of that tree…” His dad then turns and looks at Willy, his eyes are bloodshot. Willy gasps and asks if he’s ok. Willy’s dad tells him “the day we moved in, I made a friend. He lives in that tree, don’t fuck with him.” His dad hands him a fatty cigar and tells Willy to leave it under the tree. The day goes on and they both run to the city together for some errands. As they return to the house Willy and his dad smell cigar smoke. He looks over at the tree and there he sees a little smoke coming from the trunk of the tree. He walks up and sees that it’s the butt of the cigar as if it just got done being smoked. Near the cigar there are big foot prints all around the tree, bigger than any humans feet.

That time of the year again

I’ve always liked October. As a kid I was always excited for Halloween. I’m one of those people who look at that day as a holiday. It’s a month of ghostly ghouls and other things of occult nature. Looking back of all types of ghost stories and even folklore, it makes you wonder what the elders really saw back in the days… I don’t think it was stuff just to scare little kids, but more of a way to explain abnormal events and/or hallucinations and bad dreams… But you can’t deny the fact that it could be real. I myself had experiences of the paranormal, therefore I am a believer. Being of Filipino decent, I remember hearing stories from my mother about how she used to play in the outskirts of her province as a child in the Philippines, and she would find huge human-like foot prints in the dirt, along with small piles of ash with cigar butts near them. All evidence of the Kapre. My friend’s father had a chilling experience with one of those creatures. But I’ll get into those stories in another post. It’s Friday and I’m typing this post on my phone while at work lol and I’m about to go home and watch some ghost adventures or something.

Kick off your first Friday of October with a classic, and one of the best music videos in of all time.


Haunted Trap House

People say the guy who used to live there was crazy. But really, he was a fuckin’ lunatic. He enabled his drug addiction and was willing to die for his sickness.  This lunatic killed his own relative who lived with him; his only positive conscience. He didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone. He just wanted to know when will be the next time he could get high.

It’s been said, his own son paid him a visit once and couldn’t even recognize his own father. His son claimed there were many random individuals who went in and out of the house. He also expressed that there were lots of unpleasant shit going on which made the son feel uncomfortable. He decided then and there he will never go there again. By that time it was already a trap house.

All the residual negative energy left there made the place haunted. Pain, agony, anger, abuse, sadness, dark thoughts and death. They all roam the halls and rooms of this vessel. Blessing the house would just anger the spirits. It’s more in dire need of a cleansing. Maybe even an exorcism. A psychic medium said, “The guy screamed to God to help him once. But he didn’t receive any kind of response. Other than the drugs, that’s what drove him insane.”

After that moment he stopped believing everything and lost himself in his own insanity. During that process he fell into a deep dark hole…

To Hell.

Ghost Story Time


I was in 2nd grade. My older brother and I shared a room and the same bed. One night I couldn’t sleep for shit, I look over at him and he’s knocked the fuck out in dreamland. Our house at that time is located on a bend, so when a car goes down our street, the lights would shine in our room and project on our wall.


Yellow box: Our window (there used to be short bushes in front of our window)

A few cars go down our street. As I was watching the lights projecting on our wall I was staring at the shadows it created. I could see the shadows of the bushes and the blinds. The last car follows through, it was a little slower than the first. I was waiting to see the same image from the light but instead I was shocked. As the car slowly cruised around the bend, the shadow I saw on the wall was two arms and hands pulling a chain. The same motion a person would make to open a gate to a drawbridge in a castle.


(The only good photo I could find to explain the motion lol)

I fucking froze. I felt electricity flowing through my whole body, I wanted to move but couldn’t. Though I was frozen in shock, I was able to move my eyes. Still staring at the wall I look over by our door which was always left open, and I see a dark outline. I finally turn my head and there stood a tall dark mass against the wall at the edge of our door, as if it was staring at me. It was so tall it looked like its “head” was touching the ceiling and had to hunch over to peer into our room. I started screaming and woke up everyone in my house. I was hiding under the blanket and I remember my brother punching me for abruptly waking him.


Black box – Our room
Brown box – Our bed
Grey line – Me
Green line – My brother
White box – Window
Red line – Door
Yellow line – Light projection
Purple line – Shadows on wall
Blue line: Tall dark figure

Months go by and some pipes burst under our house, flooding it. We had to rip out all the carpet and dry everything we had that was on the floor by using the fire place in our living room. My mother slept in the living room by herself on the couch. She wakes up in the middle of the night because she felt a presence. She looks at the fire place and there she sees a tall figure standing next to it. She closes her eyes and starts praying. When she opens her eyes again, it’s gone. Prior to all of these events my mother always told us that she felt some kind of presence in the house. Days go by, our landlord was taking too long to replace the pipes and carpet so we decided to move. On the day we were moving our landlord decides to stop by to say farewell. My mother and the landlord were conversing for a while and when she finally left my mother pulled all of us aside and says “The landlord told me the person who used to live in this house before us was a tall elderly man. He died in this house.”

I remember that night vividly. I can still picture the hands and the links in the chain in my head. The way the tall figure had to bend his neck to the side and hunched over to look into our room still gives me chills just talking about it. I can only imagine the tall figure I saw was the old man who died in the house (I hope). But what puzzles me is what were the arms and chains I saw? What did it represent? Was that even him?