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“BURNING, BOUNCING, BLOOD-SUCKING BEDS” #WeirdDarkness
The bedrooms of our homes are a place of comfort, warmth, security, and sometimes even luxury. They are a place of respite from a long, weary day. Even as children, the bedroom had some comforts, as we could curl up, head under the covers, blocking out the entire world. But then sometimes things happen to people in bed.  Terrible, horrifying things. Some wake to see ghosts looming over the foot-board, or an old woman standing directly above their head and pillow. Others swear they’ve been snatched by aliens, or taken by the fairies. There are also stories of haunted beds, a tale of a vampire bed, and let us not forget the rarely seen, but still-feared, monster under the bed. Some ghosts have been known to bounce beds – and in one case, even set beds ablaze. It might be best to not listen to this episode under your covers.
 
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STORY CREDITS AND/OR SOURCES…

”Bouncing Beds” by Chris Woodyard: http://hauntedohiobooks.com/news/ghosts-news/bouncing-beds-15423/
“Burning Beds” by Chris Woodyard: http://winsham.blogspot.com/2015/09/wednesday-weirdness-burning-beds.html
“The Fairy Kiss” from The Occult Review: http://hauntedohiobooks.com/news/the-fairy-kiss-13871/
“Vampire Furniture” by Mary Trevelyan: http://hauntedohiobooks.com/news/vampire-furniture-of-wales/
WEIRD DARKNESS MUSIC PROVIDED BY Midnight Syndicate http://amzn.to/2BYCoXZ and Shadow’s Symphony http://www.facebook.com/shadowssymphony/ - all music used with permission. All rights reserved.  All other music provided by AudioBlocks.com with paid license.
There is no copyright infringement intended for this episode and/or the material used for it. If you have an issue with Marlar House/Weird Darkness posting this, please contact us privately and we can sort it out.


Psalm 23:4 ESV = "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
*** Learn how to escape eternal death: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2IYmodFKDaM
 
#poltergeist #vampire #haunted
 
 
====================TRANSCRIPT OF PODCAST====================

The bedrooms of our homes are a place of comfort, warmth, security, and sometimes even luxury. They are a place of respite from a long, weary day. Even as children, the bedroom had some comforts, as we could curl up, head under the covers, blocking out the entire world. But then sometimes things happen to people in bed.  Terrible, horrifying things. Some wake to see ghosts looming over the foot-board, or an old woman standing directly above their head and pillow. Others swear they’ve been snatched by aliens, or taken by the fairies. There are also stories of haunted beds, a tale of a vampire bed, and let us not forget the rarely seen, but still-feared, monster under the bed. Some ghosts have been known to bounce beds – and in one case, even set beds ablaze. It might be best to not listen to this episode under your covers.
 
...I’m Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness.


 
Welcome, Weirdos. This is Weird Darkness. Here you will find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends and lore, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. If you have a dark tale for me to tell (fact or fiction) you can share it with me at WeirdDarkness.com. If you are new here, be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss a single episode!


Now.. bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness!


 
By way of introduction, a brief bedtime story:
I was told by a librarian that an older gentleman had visited at the reference desk wanting to know about the history of his house. He was certain that it was haunted–because his bed kept moving up and down. Research turned up the logical, if x-rated explanation that  his house had once been a brothel.
It is doubtful that the following stories have such an interesting back-story, but they all feature bouncing beds.
***I will tell of my experience about sixteen years ago: I moved into a house situated on D__ street, Waco, Texas. My daughter and myself went upstairs and entered the room on our left. She shivered and said: “How queer I feel; the place must be haunted.” It so happened that I chose the room for my bedroom.
The next day after getting things pretty well arranged, feeling rather tired, I lay down in my room to rest. It was but a short time until my bed began to rock like a cradle being gently rocked. It moved thus several times, then each side seemed to vie with the other in rocking the hardest (which threw the rough part in the middle) and made me feel very much like I was about to be ousted. When my husband came home that evening, I told him that I was afraid we had made a mistake in getting the place, for the wind did not seem to blow very hard, yet the house was so tall and I feared was poorly built, for it made the bed shake until I could scarcely lie on it. He looked at me with a questioning eye and said: “Now, of all women on earth, you are the last one that I ever expected to hear such foolishness from.” (He had heard of the reputation of the house.) At the time I did not understand why he was so displeased. The rocking continued, but only during the day, so I said nothing more about it, as I did not care to hear his criticism.
We had been there only a short time when my brother, A.J. Pratt, came to make me a visit. I arranged for him to occupy this room while there. I went with him to his room the first night and he made the same remark my daughter had made. He came to stay two weeks, but for some unknown reason he stayed only four days, and his cousin, David Gound of Granger said my brother told him that he was ashamed to tell us, but he just could not sleep another night in a bed that rocked as that did.
Shortly afterward Miss R__, who occupied the room on the right, was preparing to go to early mass. She needed some assistance, and I sent Annie King (who was cooking for me). It was only a few minutes until Miss Mary came down where I was, her whole body quivering, her arms jerking so hard that her hands coming up against her breast could be heard across the room. Her lips were purple; her eyes bulged out; her expression one of entreaty. I was shocked at her condition. I called her by name several times, took hold of and shook her, trying to get her to speak, but she could not. By this time Annie came and I said: “For mercy sake, Annie, tell me what is the matter with Miss Mary.”
She said: “I was fastening her dress when there seemed to be such a queer light pass thru the room and rustled as tissue paper, and Miss Mary threw up her hands and said, ‘Oh, my God! What eyes!’ Then she ran down to you.” By this time Mary’s voice returned, and she said: “How beautiful, but O! what eyes!” Upon being asked what was beautiful, she said: “I saw the most stately and beautiful woman with large beautiful eyes with O such an expression! O Mrs. Paxton, I’m sure they were pleading for help! O I can see them yet!” She covered her eyes with her hands to shut out the vision, and said: “Mrs. Paxton, I love you and would like to remain with you, but I cannot. I cannot sleep in that room another night.” Upon being told that she could room with Miss M__, she accepted the offer and remained with us until she returned to Dallas.
Some young ladies came to spend the night, nothing more being seen or heard since Mary’s fright. I put them, with two of my daughters, to sleep in her room. There were so many noises and flashes of light, which came at intervals, that they all suddenly became of one mind, and that was, to go downstairs. My husband and I, looking up to see who was descending in such haste, saw them.
About two weeks later, one morning my husband said his back hurt him so that he could hardly move and asked me to make the fire. I had just about completed getting the ashes out when I heard him call, “Manda, O Manda! Bring the light here (I was laughing already). I called back, “What’s the matter?” when he said, “Well, come on if you are going to,” and heard a noise as if someone was coming down the steps. I had started when I answered, but I suppose I was too slow, for when I entered the room from which the stairs went up, there stood my husband, his trousers on one arm, his shoes in the other hand, and he never said a word about his back. When I asked as meekly as I could, “What’s the trouble?” he only said, “That blamed old bed tried to rock me out. You can just bring our bed downstairs. I’ll not sleep up there another time.” I began to speak to my neighbors about it. They were surprised to hear that I did not know the house was haunted, and said that frequently families would pay a month’s rent, move in one day and out the next.
There are others I can refer you to if you wish to know more about the ghost story.
My husband made the fire while I enjoyed my laugh.
Mrs. A.J. Paxton
958 Helen avenue.
Fort Worth [TX] Star-Telegram 20 December 1907
 
The following narrator sounds like she would have been a delightful house-guest. She certainly had nerve or she wouldn’t have been such a good sport about res