Three years ago, I took a three week trip to Europe with my family. The last week and a half that we were there, we rented out an old apartment in France together. The elevator was probably the oldest, scariest thing I've ever let myself get into. The apartment itself wasn't too bad, I just remember thinking how weird it was that the bathtub was in one room, and the toilet was in another by itself.
There were four kids including myself. It was my sister, my two cousins and I. There wasn't enough room for all of us to have real beds, so us four slept on futon couches in the living room. So apart from my back getting trashed from those stupid things, I couldn't sleep because I had drank tea too late in the day and it kept me awake.
It's 3 o'clock in the morning, and there I am playing Pokemon Silver with my head on my pillow holding my GameBoy up in the air.
Just as my fail Bellsprout dies, I hear a loud cry in distress down the hallway that sounded like a little girl. I stopped and suddenly felt like I couldn't turn to my left from being so scared. I pushed my sister to wake up, or hoping she had heard it half asleep because of how loud it was. The voice didn't even match the acoustics of the room, it was almost like it just appeared out of nowhere from a tape or something.
The next morning, after barely even sleeping because I was being such a baby about the whole thing, my other cousin who came to visit opened the door. She was actually from Paris, and French is her first language. Then there's me, who knows absolutely nothing over 'bonjour'. I asked her what something I 'had heard' meant. Of course, my rough translation was awful, but she looked at me and replied, "Okay, good one, stop trying to scare me."
I turned my head a little bit and said I was actually being serious. She told me it meant 'help me'. I later found out from the owners that a ten year old girl had actually drowned in the bathtub back in 1976 down that same hallway.
(This story is credited to a person named Skella.)