Welcome to the second in a series of Humanstein guests posts this Halloween season. Our next post comes from Kevin Evans, also known as PhantoMantis on Twitter and Instagram, a true friend of the site and an all around swell guy. You may remember Kevin as being the guy who helped me hooked up with Ecto Cooler on street date, and for that I’ll always be thankful. This next post is a harrowing tale of the supernatural – one which Kevin assures me is true. Buckle in folks, here’s “Oujia Bored” by Kevin Evans. Enjoy. – Humanstein

It was a dark, humid night sometime back in October of 1996 when I had my first and only encounter with the supernatural. I was a fresh faced freshman unsure of his place in a post grunge pre-boy band world. I had recently quit both band and the football team because I had deluded myself into believing I was too cool for either of them.

My crew was equally motley, there was Death Metal Sam, the kind of guy whose entire wardrobe consists only of concert t-shirts and who falls asleep at night to the soothing sounds of Slayer. Then there was Pizzaface Steve, the rich kid, he owned every game system ever invented, including the Neo Geo (You’d think his parents could have afforded a dermatologist). Lastly there was Skeleton Chris, so named because he looked like a skeleton, I mean the kid never ate, at lunch he’d pocket the money his mom gave him to buy Magic Cards.

We were staying the night at Death Metal Sam’s house (and by house I mean trailer). Sam’s Mom wasn’t in the picture and his Dad was a truck driver that was literally never home. I’m pretty sure I met him only once the entire time I knew Sam.

So what do four teenage boys do when they have no adult supervision? Why, eat dinosaur shaped chicken tenders and watch horror movies of course.

The only safe-for-work screengrab of Linnea Quigley in Night of the Demons

The only safe-for-work screengrab of Linnea Quigley in Night of the Demons


I brought over a VHS tape with a Kevin Tenney double feature, Night of the Demons and Witchboard which I’d recorded off of cable. We stuffed ourselves full of dinosaur chicken tenders (even Skeleton Chris ate one, miracle) and had a loud and rowdy time watching “Night of the Demons”. We all agreed that Linnea Quigley was a babe and there were copious amount of hooting and hollering.

The second part of our double feature Witchboard had started and the mood changed, we were quieter and more somber as if something had come over us. About an hour into the movie Death Metal Sam spoke up. Sam suggested that we get a Ouija Board and conjure our own spirits. Maybe it was the chicken tenders talking but it sounded like a good idea. Skeleton Chris informed us that we could make our own using some cardboard, a sharpie, and a wine glass. Pizza Face Steve interrupts and mentions that Walmart sells them and we should just go buy our own; “only if you are paying” snarked Sam. Finally I spoke up, “My mom has one, we could go get it.” They all glared at me like I was some kind of Junior Warlock.

Night of the Demons and Witchboard

Night of the Demons and Witchboard

“Why does your mom have one?” questioned Steve, “is she a witch?” “I’m going to box you in your greasy face Steve,” I responded. “No she isn’t a witch, she bought it from our hippie neighbor before we moved from Houston.” Actually – she didn’t buy it per se, our hippie neighbor told my Mom that it was bad luck to sell one, so my Mom made a “donation” to save the dolphins instead. We made a pact that we would make contact with the other side that night no matter what.

Now we were on our way to my house to get my Mom’s Ouija Board. Death Metal Sam was the only one of us that had a car. He’d been held back a year and already over sixteen. It was past 10pm and I knew my parents would be asleep so I’d have to use my Ninja skills to pulled off the heist. Sam slowly pulled into my parents driveway with his headlights out. His attempts at being discreet were appreciated but ultimately futile considering his 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme needed a tune up and a new muffler. I rode shotgun while Steve and Chris sat in the back.

“Good luck”, they wished me as I got out of the Cutlass. I opened the front door and stepped inside. My mom kept the Ouija Board under the china hutch, I felt like I was robbing my own place. As I suspected lights out, coast clear. With my folks predictably off to slumberland. I crept inside and tiptoed to the dining room, I reached under the China Hutch. SUCCESS! William Fuld’s Mystifying Oracle was in my grasp. Just then I heard a noise like a volcano erupting under a boggy swamp…

It was a fart.

Oh no… my dad was awake! I froze. My Dad walked past the dining room into the kitchen, his tighty whities gleaming in the moonlight. He had always been a morning person, he probably went to bed at 5pm so 10pm was basically 3am to him. If I’m really still and quiet he won’t even see me, I thought. I could hear him in the kitchen drinking something with the fridge open, probably buttermilk (yuck). He shut the refrigerator door and walked past me. “I must not fear, fear is the mind killer”, I repeated in my head. He stepped past me and kept walking.

The moment I heard the bedroom door shut I sprung into action. I slid the Ouija Board out, I could see the box in the moonlight from the dining room window. It was an older Ouija Board with the blue Druid looking guy on the box making a peace sign with his hand. I carefully picked it up and tiptoed to the front door and make my escape. As we drove back to Sam’s house (trailer) Steve and Chris made it clear that they were going to sit this experiment out. It would just be me and Sam using the board. Sam brought out some candles to set the spooky mood, Steve and Chris sat next to each other at the kitchen table. Sam and I sat down facing each other, knees touching with the board resting on our legs to better conduct psychic energy.

We placed our fingers on the planchette and it began.

A pre-Parker Brothers Ouija box, board, and planchette.

A pre-Parker Brothers Ouija box, talking board, and planchette.

The planchette started to make circles around the board. Sam and I argued back and forth about which one of us was moving it. Our hands could barely keep up as it sped across the alphabet. Finally, Chris of all people asked if there are any spirits in the house. The planchette abruptly stopped. Sam and I looked at each other, deep down we knew neither of us was moving it. We look at the board, the planchette stopped on the word YES.

Steve looked petrified but Chris seemed to be into it. Chris asked, “What is your name”? The planchette circled around for a bit and then began to spell a name: R-I-C-K-Y.

Sam was the fist to speak to “Ricky”. “How did you die?”, Sam asked. The planchette sped around the board with unnatural force, the board didn’t even wobble. I was starting to get a nervous feeling in my stomach. I felt as if we are witnessing something that no one, especially not us, should see. The planchette spells out M-U-R-D-E-R-E-D.

I worked up the courage to ask Ricky how he was murdered. He responds S-H-O-T. “Who shot you?” Sam asked. M-O-M-S B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D, he answers. Steve still looked terrified, but he asked from across the table, “How old were you?” The planchette moves to the number 1, then circles around before landing back on the number 1. “You were only 11?” I ask, “why did he kill you?” The planchette circles the board, landing on letter, after letter, he’s saying a lot this time. We all together say each letter out loud and try to figure out what he’s trying to tell us.

The witchboard in use in

The witchboard in use in “Witchboard”.

Steve was smart and grabbed a notepad to write each letter down. The planchette stopped and Sam and I turn to look at Steve, he holds up the notepad. It said “ASK HIM YOURSELF YOU WILL MEET HIM TONIGHT HE WILL HAVE THE WEAPON THAT KILLED ME.” The planchette moved again with a fierce speed, this time we didn’t even ask it anything. We called out the letters, Steve wrote them down. The planchette came to a rest, “What’s Ricky saying?” I asked Steve. Steve held up the notepad again. It said “HELP ME I CANT GO TO OTHER SIDE UNTIL MY BODY IS FOUND“. I took my hands off of the planchette, I was officially scared and regretting this whole night. Sam asked me to put my hands back. I reluctantly complied, curiosity is powerful.

“Only a couple more questions”, I demand, everyone concurs. Sam asked Ricky “Where is your body?” The planchette started pointing out more letters, Sam called them out to Steve. When the planchette rested we once again turned to Steve, he held up the notepad. “I AM BURIED ON TOP OF SOMEONE ELSE RUVAN WAS A GRAVEDIGGER HE KNEW NO ONE WOULD FIND ME.”

“Who is Ruvan”? Sam asked. The planchette immediately reacted, this time moving much slower than before. We didn’t need Steve to write Ricky’s answer but we called the letters out anyway M-O-M-S B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D. Just then the phone rings, we all jumped and screamed. The tension was broken. We laughed collectively and Sam and I put the board on the kitchen table. There was an unspoken feeling that we were done with Ouija forever.

Sam answered the phone, it was his girlfriend Miranda. She invited us over to her house. The problem was Sam’s car had very little gas left and she lived on the other side of town. We all turn to Chris who had plenty of lunch money left but he didn’t bring it. We all searched our pockets and all told we collectively we had about four dollars in change. We decide to chance it. We pulled up to the EZ Mart (also known as the sleazy mart), and we started arguing over who got the honor of going up to pay the lady with pocket change.

A typical E-Z Mart.

A typical E-Z Mart.

At the pump next to us is a motorcycle and we noticed a biker slowly walking towards us from the pay phone. “Hi fellas” the biker said, “I’m having some engine trouble and I couldn’t help but hear you need gas money.” We all starde at him, letting him talk. The biker smiled and explained, “I need a tow and if you pulled me behind you, my engine’ll kickstart. If you do it, I’ll give you 20 bucks for gas.” We agreed but Sam, the fearless one, demanded to see the money. The biker, still smiling lifted up the seat of his motorcycle and pulled out a giant wad of bills from inside a hidden compartment. “Holy shit, aren’t you afraid to drive around with that much cash?” asked Steve. “No,” said the biker, “nothing to fear when you carry a Colt.” He opened his leather jacket, exposing a shoulder strap with a shiny nickel plated Colt 45 resting inside a holster.

We agreed to tow him and he helped us tie a rope around Sam’s bumper. We got inside Sam’s car and Sam started the engine. We were only towing him a couple hundred feet when his engine kicked over, Sam slowly pulls off to the side of the road. We all climbed out and try to get the rope off but the knot is too tight. The friendly bikers demeanor had changed, he wasn’t smiling anymore and he looked impatient. He handed Chris a Zippo Lighter and commanded him to burn the rope off. Chris complied. The biker frantically hands Sam a twenty dollar bill and at that moment it started to pour down rain.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky earlier and now it was storming. The biker said nothing else to us, he hoped on his Harley and rode away. We all ran back to Sam’s car ready to get out of the rain and return to the EZ Mart for our gas. Sam handed me the $20 and asked me to go inside and pay while he filled up his tank. At that moment we realized Chris was still holding the biker’s Zippo. We yelled at him, terrified that he will come back looking for it, maybe with that 45 in hand. Chris seemed like he was having an out of body experience. We all ask him what’s wrong and he just held the lighter up under the bright gas station lights. We looked at it and see it’s engraved. It’s a name. That name is RUVAN.

We couldn’t believe our own eyes and we definitely couldn’t explain what just happened. I grabbed the Zippo from Chris’s trembling hand and took it inside to give to the cashier, I told her to add it to her “lost and found”.

We didn’t feel much like going to Miranda’s house after that so Sam just drove us all home. Things were never the same between us, unfortunately. Personally, I’ve never been able to shake the experience. I haven’t touched a Ouija Board since. I’m still too afraid that Ricky will be angry we didn’t help him find peace. We all quit talking to each other after that night, and over time we all made new friends. I don’t think any of us really told anyone about what happened that night.

I mean, who would ever believe a story like that?