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Here's a sorta spoopy story that happened to me one night when I was fishing. It was back in 2014 and I had just come back from deployment so a friend of mine decided to take me to a really remote fishing spot up in Aurora, NC (about an hour from Camp Lejeune where we were stationed). We got there about 5 pm and it was starting to darken as it was the fall by this time. Where we parked was this very secluded, heavily wooded area, surrounded by dilapidated old slave shacks/sharecropper housing and about 100 feet from that was a bank that lead into part of the Pamlico Sound. We got our shit and got to the bank and began fishing. Fast forward about 3 hours and it was now black as pitch and there was only some shimmering water and a half moon to give any light. All of a sudden we heard a loud slamming sound followed by a shrill scream coming from one of the old shacks. We booked back to my friend's truck as fast as we could while holding tackle boxes and rods. We turned the headlights on and we caught a glimpse of what looked like the silloutte of someone with long hair and robes running through the brush opposite to where we were. We got our asses out of there. I still haven't gone back to Aurora and I probably won't and I love fishing out here on the coast.
