I've got two woo stories:
As a teen I went for a week away at the Norfolk seaside with my dad in what I guess was middle class victorian house which had been split into apartments- we were staying in what would have been the basement. The first night seemed okay, but in the middle night I thought I heard my dad making 'cocktails', as clear as day I could hear a crystal glasses clattering on a tray, with being able to hear a spoon stirring the drinks as well. I then heard metal trays being carried through the hallway, up and down. I thought it was my dad, he never drank during the night, and didn't bring his glass (what he'd sometimes have one whisky on the weekend at home). I shouted out then nothing. I fell asleep. I asked him in the morning and he looked at me like a crazy person. I've never been so sure on something ever.
The second day I decided to pull a trick on my Dad by locking the bathroom door from the outside but then it did start locking it self. Every time we went to open the door it would be locked. It certainly wouldn't of been my dad as we think he has ASD and he took it seriously as an engineer trying to understand how it would lock- he even took it apart and he came to the conclusion it couldn't just fall to the lock position.
That night I went to bed, heard the footsteps like the previous night but this time I heard them in my room, it walked up to my bed (i'm under the covers cowering), stopped, and something touched my shoulder the was ice cold. It then walked away.
The third night we were watching tv when i could hear the fire crackling in the fire place with what sounded like food being turned in it but original fire place had gone- the whole chimney had been removed but I could pinpoint it just like the glasses.
I was a shaking mess, I went to bed with the light on fully clothed. My dad came into my room, got me out of bed, said we'd be leaving in the morning and told me to get ready for bed in his room/living room but he'd hold the handle so nothing could happen. I didn't get around to putting my top on, when I think I saw a reflection on the TV of a girl a few years younger than me (in a grey sack dress) sweeping. I pushed the door open, my dad just picked me up, grabbed a top out of my room (on the way to the front door) and we left in one swift movement. It was after midnight and my highly sceptical/engineering/ASD believed something was going on that house to drive us 3 hours home.
My Dad made me promise not to tell my uncle (who owned the flat) what had happened, but it came up in conversation that we were staying in what had been the old kitchen and servants quarters...
I was always like my dad of very much a non believer of 'the crazy people stuff' which was anything to do with religion/ghots/spirits/'the other side' but hell, that experience was something else. My uncle asks us every year if we'd like to stay in the flat.. hell no!!