>>2082About 15 years ago, when I was attending SHSU in Huntsville, Texas, I made a hobby out of visiting the old Martha Chapel Cemetery with my girlfriend. You drive five minutes out of town, then another ten down an FM road, and turn at an abandoned gas station. From there you drive down Bowden road, through the pastures and the trees until you reach an unmarked, wooded road with dense trees around and above it. At the end of that road would be a chain link fence and a small cemetery with graves dating back so far that some of them were for slaves. Crumbling tombstones, stone angels, frequently overgrown, a real perfect spot. It wasn't well known by the university students, but it was a common B-list ghost hunting spot for the state and you could find some ridiculous stories about it online that I assume were written by local teens. It was at least known enough that local cops knew to have a car sitting out there on Halloween to shoo away drunks. We never did Halloween out there but we used it as a fun, spooky place to take friends.
We had some weird experiences out there, but the major one was the time we brought two girls out there with us, one of which was a BPD arthoe that was thrilled by my gf's offer to try the Ouija board out at the cemetery. We had no lights, so the girls sat down in the grass and I kept my car running so they could use the headlights with the board. I stood around and basically just waited for them to finish because I didn't know how I didn't find the board enjoyable and was primarily just holding out for a possible threesome with arthoe. My gf and arthoe were giddy, but the other girl was clearly terrified of this and pissed off she'd be talked into it. They're having fun, laughing about it, getting a little spooked. After a few minutes, they find a line of questioning that gets them a bite. Every time they ask a question, the headlights on my car dim. The timing is so perfect that the jokes have stopped. That happens twice in a row before the third girl gets up, waddles angrily back to the car, and starts demanding we go now. Gf and arthoe continue for another few questions before getting too spooked themselves. We pack up and drive out down the dirt road back toward Bowden. They're all chattering and high off the thrill when a silvery light shoots out across the hood of the car. All three girls scream together at once, which is more sho
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