Haunted Grounds: Scary Dairy Walk-Thru

A walk-thru of Scary Dairy by Youtuber blazingtravels.

Can you imagine walking through this at night? Yikes.

For more info on Scary Dairy see my previous post [here].

Haunted Grounds: The Tavern, Ventura, CA

Place: The Tavern (The Santa Clara House)

Location: Ventura, CA

Located in Ventura, CA on E Santa Clara Street near Figueroa, The Tavern is a bar & restaurant that operates out of the historical Santa Clara House. Well known by local residents for it’s amazing food and cocktails, it’s also famous for its resident ghost.

According to local legend, it was once the home of a woman named Rosa. Rosa was unhappily married to a man twice her age.

One day she met a young Italian-American man and the two had an affair that resulted in an unexpected pregnancy. The young man fled Ventura, leaving Rosa to deal with the consequences of their adultery. Rosa ultimately hung herself from a beam in the house.

Many people say that you can sometimes see the spirit of Rosa peering out of a round, second-story window. Others speak of mysterious noises heard in the second-story women’s restroom.

Needless to say, there are spirits at the Tavern other than those you can drink…

The Tavern is located at 211 E Santa Clara St in Ventura, CA. If you visit, remember to come thirsty!

Haunted Grounds: Scary Dairy, Camarillo, CA

Place: Scary Dairy

Location: Camarillo, CA


Say the words “scary dairy” to anyone that grew up in Camarillo, CA and chances are they will have a story to tell.

Located adjacent to the California State University Channel Islands campus (formerly the Camarillo State Hospital), Scary Dairy was once an old dairy farm maintained by the staff and patients of the hospital. According to many sources, the farm was closed down sometime during the 1960’s and since then the property has deteriorated into its present state.

As with other similar locations (see my post on the Bill Witt Park Hangar here), Scary Diary is said to be a hotbed of paranormal activity and Satanic worship. And if that’s not enough incentive to stay away, it’s also a well known gang hangout.

Don’t say you weren’t warned.



Scary Dairy is located adjacent to the California State University Channel Islands campus located just south of Camarillo, CA.

Local Legends: La Sayona

After my previous post about La Llorona I was made aware of a similar figure from Venezuela known as La Sayona.

As with La Llorona, there are many variations of the La Sayona legend.

One version I found speaks of a woman who lost her children in a house fire. Her husband wasn’t there to help as he was off having an affair with another woman. Legend now says that la sayona lures unloyal, married men in the form of a beautiful, young woman. She then turns into a hideously, burned old woman and kills them. Frightening, eh?

Another more detailed version speaks of a jealous woman married to a loving man. The two have a young boy together. One day the woman is swimming in a nearby river when she notices a man watching her. This happens a few more times over the course of the next few days. Finally, she confronts the man, who tells her that he is there to warn her.

"Your husband is having an affair with your mother," he says.

In a jealous rage she runs home and sets fire to the house, killing both her husband and her son.

She then goes to her mother’s house where she stabs her mother several times in the stomach. It is then, as her mother begins to die, that she learns the truth.

There was no affair. The man by the river had viciously lied to her.

With her last breaths, her mother curses her, dooming her to avenge any woman betrayed by her husband.

And thus La Sayona was born.

So think about that next time you consider cheating, boys. ;-)


A big thanks to Tumblr user @teojansen for reblogging my original post and bringing this legend to my attention.

GHOSTLY VIDEOS: Security Cam Attack

This video (which has gone viral) appears to show a man being attacked by a shadowy entity in a hallway. Real ghost or hoax? You decide.

Local Legends: La Llorona

Growing up in South Texas, I heard about la llorona a lot. All of us did. She was a figure that haunted our childhood dreams and who we spoke of in hushed tones on the playground.

Most of us had heard the story from our parents or grandparents…or on occasion from a cruel cousin who wanted to make us wet our pants. (And believe me, we ALL had that cousin who was dick enough to tell us this story while babysitting.)

This is the way I remember hearing the story:

Once, long ago, there was a woman named Maria. She lived with her two children in a small town along the Mexican border. Her husband had run off on her years before, leaving her to raise the two kids on her own.

One day Maria met a rich man from the other side of the border. The two instantly fell in love and marriage seemed inevitable.

That is until he found out about Maria’s children.

You see, the man did not think it proper to marry a woman with two kids and raise them as his own. Distraught, Maria took her two kids to the nearby river and drowned them. Thinking this would solve the issue, she returned to the man to tell him that the children were no longer a problem. Upon hearing of her wicked deed, he cast her off in disgust.

Realizing what she had done, Maria returned to the river and drowned herself out of remorse.

Legend says that her spirit now forever walks near the river, searching for her lost children as she cries out “¡ay mis hijos!" (Oh my children!)

To this day, Hispanic children are warned not to go out at night or else la llorona may mistake them for one of her children and take them!

Needless to say, I was always home well before the sun went down.

A few words from the beyond…

Hello fellow insomniacs and screamers!

I just wanted to welcome all of our new followers as well as let everyone know that I’m working on some new posts that should be up soon.

In the meantime, I would love to hear some of your own stories!

Part of the reason I created 365 Days of Terror was to provide an outlet for others to share their encounters with no fear of ridicule or judgement. We are all here because we either believe or at the very least have an open mind so feel free to share your personal encounters, your family legends, and even the stories native to your area.

To submit a story, click here.

And if you think you have what it takes to be a “crypt keeper” like me, e-mail me at 365daysofterror@gmail.com.

Hope to hear from you soon!

Pleasant nightmares,


The Ghost Chonricles: 9/3/14 (Weds)

I was killing sometime before rehearsals yesterday and was playing a little Skyrim in the living room. My roommate was nearby on his computer.

We were both just sitting there doing our thing when we both heard my bedroom door slam shut.

[ Now for those of you who have been following me, you know that this is a common occurrence when I’m alone but rarely does it happen when others are around. ]

My roommate’s immediate response was: "What was that?"

I laughed before answering.

"My bedroom door."

He  sat there for a minute and then replied, "Okay…", as though waiting for me to explain further.

I just smiled and went back to playing Skyrim, leaving him completely puzzled.

I love it when things happens in front of others. ;-)

"How would you like to make a deal?"

The creepiest thing happened at work last Friday.

Looking back, it’s pretty funny - in one of those creepy kind of ways - but at the time it was one of those “Fuck this shit, I’m outta here!” kind of moments.

So as I’ve mentioned before, I work an office job at a major bookstore. To get to the break room (and my office) you have to walk alongside the store’s cafe towards the rear of the store.

Last Friday as I was making this walk, I noticed this guy (late 20s/early 30s, Caucasian, kinda sleazy looking with short blond hair) sitting at the table right next to the break room door. As I approached the door, I noticed he had been eyeballing me as I made my way over.

I didn’t think much about it at the time other than, “Okay, creeper. You can stop staring now.”

Well right as I get to the door and begin to punch in my pass code, I hear this voice go, "Hey. Hey you."

I look over and it’s Sleazy Guy.

"You a writer?"

I kinda look at him with that deer in the headlights look before I reply, "Yes."

"What do you write? You write books?"

"Mainly short stories," I answered, wondering where the hell this was going. "Sometimes screenplays and plays."

"You ever have anything published?"


"But you’re aiming for the stars right? Looking to make it big?"

Right as he said that, I got this really weird chill. You know the one I’m talking about where it feels like someone is running a cold finger down your spine.

Right then I thought to myself, “GET AWAY. NOW.”

As if he had read my mind, he smiled this creepy smile at me and said, "I’ve got just the story for you." He then leaned back in his chair and said in this creepy voice, "How would you like to make a deal?"

It was at this moment that I said to myself, “I’m outta here”, and quickly excused myself into the break room.

It wasn’t until later when I really began to process the interaction that I began to wonder why he had singled me out of everyone else there and more importantly…how he had known I was a writer.

Though it’s a little funny to look back on, part of me wonders if I may have met the Devil himself, offering me fame and fortune in exchange for something else…

I mean, can you get any more cliche than…

"How would you like to make a deal?

"Bookstore Shenanigans"

During my breaks at work I like to walk the floor of the store. I do this for two reasons:

  1. It gets the blood flowing in my legs after sitting sitting at a desk for hours on end and…
  2. It keeps me warm.

And believe me, I need the warmth. My office is colder than a northern lake in the dead of winter. No lie.

[ For those of you that don’t know, I work an office/administrative job at a bookstore here in town. ]

Today while taking one of my walks I noticed a jumble of books strewn about the floor of one of the upstairs aisles.

This didn’t strike me as odd because it was something I’d always seen in the store. Customers frequently pick books off the shelf and leave them around the store in small stacks. However, I did find it a little odd that they were all copies of the same book and that they were thrown about instead of in their usual stacks. Messes like this are only common in the kid’s department, not the rest of the store.

I put the books back on the shelf and muttered to myself something about the poor manners of some people and walked away.

Later as I was walking around the store again I said to myself something along the lines of "Wouldn’t it be weird if I found the books all over the floor again?"

Sure enough, as I came around the corner, the SAME books were thrown all over the place!

I quickly put them away and joked to a nearby bookseller that we had a ghost in the store. She laughed and we started talking about how awesome that would be when there was a loud crash behind us. We quickly turned around and all of the books were on the floor AGAIN!

We quickly picked them up and booked it out of there, laughing at ourselves the entire time.

It looks as though we may have a ghost that either hates booksellers or really hates that book.

Welcome to the newly updated 365 Days of Terror!

The new pages which can be accessed are:

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Contact me at 365daysofterror@gmail.com or on here!

"Grandma’s House"

As a kid, my grandmother’s house was like a second home to me.

My parents had divorced while I was still quite young and as a result we ended up moving in with her for a few years. Even after we moved out, we spent a lot of time there.

Some of my earliest memories, in fact, are of waking up to the sounds and smells of my grandmother cooking in the kitchen, her television set to her favorite novela or talk show.

The house was very old and as a kid, there were a lot of things about it that gave me the heebie jeebies. 

The bathroom, for example, only had a standing shower with metal walls so old and full of grime that they had become black. As a kid I was scared shitless of those walls. And don’t get me started on the shower floor. It was just as old and gross and when it rained, worms would crawl up through the drain.

Needless to say, I bathed in the kitchen sink for most of my childhood.

It was in this house, however, that my love for all things paranormal began.

I fondly recall sitting around, listening to my grandmother and my uncles as they told stories about such characters as la llorona and la lechuza. Of soaking wet women who begged for rides near large bodies of water and later vanished.

It was during these storytimes that I learned about the old woman that haunted the house.

According to my uncles, she could be seen cooking in the kitchen or moving about the dining room, going about her business as though no one else lived in the house. She appeared to be a regular old woman…except for the fact that she moved about the house as though she were hanging from a rope.

As you can imagine, I spent my entire childhood avoiding her.

There were other stories too. Stories of curanderas who could cure you of an illness with herbs and folk magic and of brujas who took on the form of owls and sought revenge against others using black magic.

Through these stories I gained a respect for a world seldom seen and I also learned that some things are best left alone.


Sometime during my pre-teens, my grandmother’s house was demolished and rebuilt. Dozens of years of history wiped out by bulldozers and workers that had yet to exist when it was first built.

During the demolition the front door was the last thing to come down. It managed to stand erect with no visible support for a few minutes before it fell. It was as if though the house was saying farewell to those of us who had grown up in the house. Or giving the demolition workers the finger. Take your pick.

The new house was up within a few months and the first thing to greet my family upon their return was the ringing of a phone…that had yet to be connected.


As time went on, I spent less and less time at grandma’s house. I just never felt as comfortable in the new house. Maybe it lacked the history of the old house. Maybe the old woman we feared as kids was watching over us the entire time and had moved on after the old house was destroyed. Who knows. All I know is that my love for the unknown began in that house and I would never change that for one second.

The Ghost Chronicles: 7/24/14 (Thurs)

Sat down tonight to write out the post about yesterday’s Bluetooth speaker incident.

I’m halfway through the post when I hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. This is followed by the sound of footsteps throughout the apartment and doors opening and closing.

I assume it’s my roommate Josh and continue working on the post.

Later, I peek my head out the door to say “hello” only to realize that no one is home.

I’ve now become so accustomed to hearing noises in this apartment while alone that I’m never sure who’s on the other side of the door…