I have one. have n/c because I've only told a few people about this and it'll out me.
As a teenager, I used to keep my horse at a yard which was owned by a local farming family, who had been in the area for hundreds of years. They had this quite unusually long, low old barn full of looseboxes- the sort where you have your half door, but the partitions between are just slats. Really, really ancient- we hated them
An old laborers cottage was right beside the barn, and they knocked the wall through and turned this into a tack room/sitting room. We all had t was an unwritten rule that whoever opened up the stables and tack room put the radio on straight away, and it was only turned off when the last person left
I bought my horse very cheaply, as she was half wild and very badly schooled, so for quite a few months I went to the yard very early every morning, so I could have the indoor arena all to myself to school her.
One morning, I brought her in, stuck her in the stables, and went up to get my grooming box. I had turned the radio on earlier, and as I hunted about bitching at the other girls for pinching my hoof pick the radio switched off. Next thing, I heard somebody else bringing their horse into the barn, further down- it was a very distinctive sound because of the lay out of the barn, and you couldn't mistake it. I was surprised, because it was so early. Went out of the tack room and into the barn- nobody there.
I look in on my horse, and she is pushed against the back of the box, freaking out, ears back, covered in sweat, shaking, stamping. By this point I am thinking WTF.
I go in and start stroking her to calm her down, when I hear this thick, gurgling, rustling, pulling noise further down. I can't even describe it. I look through the slats between the boxes, and I can see a dark shape in the next box but one- but it was flickering in and out of focus, as if someone was stepping to one side then back again.
I freak out,grab my horse, lead her out really quickly and take her to the indoor arena, let her wander round while I sit on the sand trying to calm down. Took her back into the field after a while, didn't ride that day
Years later I was looking through the local historical society annual newsletter, and I found this old newspaper account they'd copied.
It was about a man, the son of the farmer (the name of the farm and the families surname has always been the same) who had gone away on a trip to town one week in the 1850's. nobody knew what he was there for, and he was away longer than expected, and when he came back, he spoke to nobody- only a few of the farm labourers spotted him coming through the yard.
He took his horse into the barn, stabled it, went into the box beside it, and hung himself.
I couldn't find out anymore about it- I think they just put him down as 'temporarily unsound of mind'
but there you go. Sorry it;'s so long :)