Pubs and Spirits
You will not find many people who have worked in the licenced trade in Blighty that have not had some sort of Supernatural experiences.
Mine are probably typical, but this was of no comfort at the time as it led to sleepless nights and more than one set of pappered keks.
I was looking after a really old ex-coaching Inn in the wilds of East Yorkshire, and believe me this place is old. VERY old. It was a couple of hundred years old when Dick Turpin was arrested there (honestly). It creaks, it groans and its bloody scary when the mist rolls in off the Humber.
Anyhoo, one night I locked the pub up and prepared to set the alarms, having to walk through the darkened pub to get upstairs to the flat. It felt weird, and colder than usual but being a born sceptic I dismissed this as a draught or whatever and successfully put the alarm code in and went to bed.
The next morning I got up and unset the alarm and walked through the bar to let the cleaners in.
Being half asleep I didn't realise what was different at first... until I walked straight into one of the bar stools. "Funny," thinks I, "I'm POSITIVE I stacked those on the tables last night!" I stopped and looked around me, realised I had walked into the middle of a perfect circle of about 30 bar stools about 20ft in diameter.
There was no way I could have set the alarms the previous night without walking into them. I had tidied the bar alone, and as it had been a quiet night had actually put the stools up early before i even closed the doors.
So my next thought is "Some cnut is taking the piss", so I call the alarm monitoring company to ask if the alarm had been deactivated at any point during the night. Nope it had gone on at 23:55 and off again at 07:45. There was no rational explanation. I checked all the windows... locked from the inside. All the doors were secure and nobody was hiding in the toilets.
So that night i decided there must be a 'blind spot' in the alarm system and i got my (now ex) wife to set the alarms with me lying on the floor of the pub in exactly the spot that the circle of stools had been.
I laid still for two minutes and started to try and pull the stools towards me. The alarms activated immediately and were as loud as hell. Over the next few days i tried everything I could think of to explain what had happened, and nothing could.

I found out months later when one of the ex-landlords happened to pop in for a drink that it had happened before.... always on February 23rd (but not every year) which was reputed to be the date that a group of guys that had used the pub had been killed by a shell that hit their trench near Paschendale during WW1.
Again Mr Sceptic here thought "how could a group of guys that all knew each other from the pub all be killed on the same day?" A little research later told me that there were 'Pals' regiments that all joined up together, trained together and more often than not died together.
I wandered over to the village War Memorial and found that about 60 guys had died in the first war, and then I cross checked the names on the Commonwealth War Graves website. 15 had died on the same day ( Feb 23rd, need you ask!) with around 20 dying within 3 months either side.
A real hair on the back of the neck moment there I can tell you all.
I tried to track down ex-landlords to ask if they had the same thing happen. Only 3 out of 10 that I had managed to track down had a similar experience to me.

I am no longer a sceptic i suppose, and it still scares the living shit out of me when i think of it.

Length...... 20ft in diameter!
(airliebird Has now found Twiglets in Sydney!!!!!!! yay!, Fri 4 Jul 2008, 12:00, Reply)