The Black Horseman – Spooky Hoofbeats Still Follow Me Today

This is an experience I had, and it still freaks me out. Growing up, I had multiple little paranormal experiences. I was always very skeptical, so the experiences I had I considered genuine, and I tried my best to explain away and couldn’t. Many of them would happen even with company or family around to see it, so I knew I didn’t imagine it. 

As a teenager, I started getting a little too interested in the paranormal and not being scared of anything; I got a little cocky at times, and at some point, I guess I started to dabble with something I shouldn’t have so it got a bit too intense for me. I would talk about the things that happened, mention spirits, or attempt to talk to presences I couldn’t see, and it would, as I liked to call it, “stir shit up”.

So when I was a teenager, I had this friend. He would be in mid-conversation with me and randomly trail off on some weird shit that sounded creepy and didn’t make any sense, then come to and not have any clue what he said and be like, “whatever, man I don’t know what you’re talking about” and continue on the normal conversation as nothing happened. 

Usually, it ended at that. But when we were 15, he went into one of his things, like a trance or whatever, as we were on the phone. He said, “follow the tracks to your right, then on your right again near the end, and you’ll come to their resting place.”

I’ll explain the layout of where I was living because it is essential for the following parts. I lived in a pretty lovely trailer park (oohhhh spooky, I know) off the main road in a small town, heavily wooded and nowhere near the town. The main driveway came down the middle of the trailer park and was dead-ended at the rear. 

The Black Horseman - Spooky Hoofbeats Still Follow Me Today

A little past that dead end was a barrier and a railroad track was rarely used at the bottom. To the right, it dead-ended in some woods, with one side at the back of an abandoned old mill, and the other side had a dense set of woods behind a neighborhood.

So I follow his weird cryptic directions after getting off the phone. It was late afternoon in the summer. I head to the railroad tracks and head right toward the end. At some point, before the end, I hear footsteps in the woods on my right. Being curious, I head up the embankment and towards the noise. There was nobody there. But I did see a small graveyard curiously tucked away in these woods behind a neighborhood.  

Likely a tiny family plot. Ranging from the early 1700s to the very early 1900s. Only about 20-something markers. I was intrigued and brought that friend later, and he was weirded out, insisting he had no idea it was there. 

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But he wasn’t the lying type, so I believed him. It became a hangout spot as I was dumb and brave, and I would go there at night at all hours, acting fearless. Nothing bizarre ever happened there, so moving on.

Another day, another conversation,  and buddy randomly breaks into another “trance.” He says, “head to the tracks, cross them, and when you enter the woods, you will see him.” My cocky self immediately does just that. 

Late afternoon once again. This time I head to the tracks behind the trailer park, but I cross them. Which goes through a bit of woods and comes into a clearing with an old mill (a different one because it’s an old mill town) on the left; on the right are miles of cut out for power lines cutting through the woods supplying all the random neighborhoods scattered throughout the area. 

Straight ahead across the street from the mill is a more densely wooded area. So following those directions again, I head towards the tree line. The moment I set foot into the tree line, I heard branches snapping and immediately saw just the black shadow or silhouette of a guy in all black on a black horse galloping through the woods away from me and towards the left, disappearing into the trees.

I was a bit shocked as it was not common to see horses around my town at all. But being cocky and brave, I decided to head to where he came from, which was to the right on the edge of the tree line following the cutout of the power lines. Near the edge of the tree line, I found an old collapsed horse stable. 

Nothing else near it. There was another neighborhood about a mile from where he disappeared. But nothing else around the stable. So being intrigued and a little freaked out, I call my buddy and tell him. The following day I brought him with me to show my finding because he just refused to believe me, and I was getting suspicious of him playing stupid possibly.  

But the most unbelievable part, as we entered the treeline where I saw the horseman the day before,  we both saw him taking the same path as I did. Broad daylight.  Clear as possible. There was no way we both imagined it.

Both of us were a little freaked out. But we continued, and I showed him the stable also. The strangest part was I brought a couple of other friends to see the stable, and he appeared to us each time.

So after finding the stable and hanging around the graveyard, things started to ramp up, with the little encounter becoming much more intense. TVs and stereos turn on by themselves. Multiple times.  Even in the presence of company or family. Intense feelings of being watched and just inexplicable moments of dread and terror for no reason. 

Hearing people having loud conversations or music, like the radio was turned on in the other room, while I was home alone and nobody in sight outside surrounding my home. Stuff flew across the room violently. Fresh handprints in the steam on my bathroom mirror after a shower. 

I’d hear the distinct sound of my mom coming home, throwing the door open and tossing her keys on the table and the cabinet and fridge slamming open and closed while she made herself a drink (she was not a quiet or subtle woman). Just to walk out of my room to talk to her and realize nobody was there.

Yet still, one night around 2-3 am, I got bored and decided to head down to the graveyard. I was feeling watched and just super uneasy, and I was trying to be stubborn and refused to feel scared for whatever reason. I was rebelling. Telling myself, I couldn’t be harmed. So I get to the graveyard, and all is normal and quiet. 

I hang out for a while and realize I’m being dumb and decide to head home and get some sleep. I head back down the tracks toward home. I get to where I need to head up the embankment to enter the driveway for the trailer park. I’m about halfway up the bank when I hear something rustle.

I look up and see the horseman on his horse looking down at me. Pitch black. Almost like a shadow in the dark, you can still see the outlines of everything.  Yet nothing reflected light. I hadn’t heard of it then, but it was like how some describe the shadow people. 

I remember staring at him for a few seconds in disbelief and shock. Then the horse made that little pfft noise with his lips, and I snapped out of it. I turned down the bank and ran along the tracks as I heard hoofbeats following me. 

I turn up a shallower part into the woods next to the trailer park weaving through the trees, trying to slow him down until I reach the street and run l to the trailer I lived in, which was at the front. I jump through the door, damn near busting through the screen door as I hear the hoofs thudding behind me. 

My mom was at work, so I turned on every light, tv, and radio in the place to try and make it too loud or bright to keep whatever at bay as if that would help. I sat on the couch, waiting for my mom to get home, and I eventually fell asleep.

 I woke up as she finally came home, as daylight was coming in. I told her everything, and she told me I shouldn’t mess with this stuff. She believed me because she had always had experiences and regularly told me about them.  Once the sun was finally up, I went to the embankment where I saw him. 

Wondering if I had somehow imagined it all. Even curious if there was just a horse out in the area for whatever reason. However unlikely but just trying to find an explanation. I found hoof prints in the sand at the top of the embankment and only in that spot.

That was when I decided it was getting too much for me, and while not being religious typically, I started praying to make it all stop and swearing I would stop messing with it. It all died until around when I turned 18, and suddenly it just stopped. And I haven’t had a single experience since. Spooky, Isn’t it?