The following is a fun and interesting story that my grandfather told me that happened to him when he was a child.
My grandfather grew up in the backwoods of Northern West Virginia. He was the youngest of twelve children and they were very poor. They had no running water inside their home, had to use an outhouse, and collected water from a nearby spring.
Now, there was an old, rundown house in the thickness of the woods a few acres from their home. Rumor had it, that this house was haunted. Strange, unearthly howls and moans could be heard at night, coming from the depths of the house. Supposedly there was a coffin in a far corner of one of the rooms. In fact, my grandfather's two older brothers peered into the house's downstairs windows and confirmed this.
The neighborhood boys decided to band together one blustery evening to find out if this place was really haunted. The boys included my grandfather, his two older brothers (my great-uncle Lynn and great-uncle Harry). Also along were two brothers that lived down the street -- my grandfather's best friend, Chip, and another friend, Rusty.
My uncle Lynn brought his big hunting dog, Samson, with them as well. The boys' ages ranged from 7 to 13. They armed themselves with lanterns and pick-axes. And so they were off, stumbling and joking and just being regular mischevious youngsters, walking through the woods to this big "haunted" house.
Upon arrival, the first thing they did was look in the windows. My grandfather states that when he looked in, the coffin-like box was the first thing he noticed. They were going to pry open the box with their pick-axes and see what was inside. As they made their way to the front door, Samson suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. All the boys went quiet and listened. An eerie wail seemed to rise and slowly fall from an upstairs window (the windows were all smashed out). My grandfather, the youngest of the boys, was very scared at this point and wanted to go home, but he wasn't about to show his fear to the other boys so he followed them on into the house.
The first thing they did was start prying open the coffin. They noticed that the coffin seemed to be actually built into the wall! Uncle Lynn and Uncle Harry, being the two oldest, started to prying first as did three of the other boys. Once they popped off the top, they quickly shined their lanterns inside and discovered it was empty.
My grandfather says he was frightened of what they might find but was actually pretty disapointed that there wasn't anything in there. The boys concluded that it was just an old bench built into the wall, and as they stood back and investigated more of it, they realized that's exactly what it was.
Now it was time to figure out what was making the chilling moaning noises upstairs. The boys slowly began to pick their way up the stairs, careful of any holes or weak boards. Uncle Lynn apparently set Samson free and he scampered up the rest of the stairs to explore the rooms on his own.
As the boys got to the landing, they waited patiently for Samson to return, which he did happily, wagging his tail and not seeming the least bit alarmed. My uncles shrugged and turned to their left to investigate the first room, when a mournful howl pierced the silence. Everyone froze, even Samson, although he still seemed a bit relaxed.
My grandfather was terrified at this point and could see his buddies' eyes go wide in the dim light, but Uncle Lynn and Uncle Harry were insistent on exploring the howling room. They slowly walked down the hallway toward the back of the house, allowing Samson the first entrance. As they all were inside the room, the slow creepy wail began again.
My grandfather was last entering the room and when he swung his lantern in the direction of the others, he could see they were all gathered in a corner, evidently looking at something. Once he approached them, he noticed little smirks across their faces. That's when Uncle Lynn thrust an empty glass Coca-Cola bottle in front of my grandfather.
"It's the ghost!" he exclaimed.
"What?!" cried the others.
"I don't understand," said my grandfather.
Uncle Lynn turned the bottle upside-down and shoved the neck into a knot-hole in the wood. When he did so, the wind picked up and a familiar wail rose from the bottle! That is what was making the howling noise.
So, another haunted house gave up its secrets and another mystery is solved. The house is no longer there, but my grandfather showed me about where it once stood when my family and me and my grandfather all went out for a walk in the woods one summer evening. It's a not really a paranormal story, but I still think it's a good one nonetheless. Many of the stories on this site don't seem to have conclusions, so I just thought it would be fun to add a story that had an ending solution for once!