I'll tell you my one scary story. at one point in my youth, I lived in a dirthole apartment in downtown St. John's, across from the Kirk. The Kirk is oh, we'll say Anglican, but I'm not positive, and I lived on the corner of Long's Hill and Livingston streets.
It was a second floor apartment, and needed a key to get in the main door, and a different key to get in to my apartment, and there was only one other family (ooohh, sketchy, let me tell ya) that had a key to the main door. So weird stuff went down while I lived there, first run of the mill weird stuff - the tv would turn off with no one near it, or the remote control. The dvd player would shut off, but the tv wouldn't, so there would be this sudden blaring of static. Then the cats started acting weird. The two of them would sit in front of this one bare wall and just scream. Gave me the fucking willies to tell the truth.
This is the freaky bit. There was one day i came home from work and got in the shower. This place was seriously old, and the bathroom door always stuck, you had to throw your weight into it to open it. So I was in the shower, and I could hear a man humming. I just assumed it was my boyfriend, though I did think it was strange that he didn't tell me he was home. Then the bathroom door opened and I heard something drop into the sink, something small and metal. The bathroom door closed, and again I heard a man humming. I took my time, cause I wasn't concerned at that point. But when I got out of the shower, there was no one home. There was no music on, and there were no windows open. No men lived downstairs. There was nothing in the sink, let alone something small and metallic.
I thought all of that was pretty strange, but I would just ask my bf about it whenever he got back. He came home several hours later, and had been so far out of the city, that theres no chance it could have been him. Naturally, I lost my ever loving mind.
I did some research (and I was doing a Folklore and Supernatural course at the time), and it turns out that when the Catholics came to Newfoundland back in 18whatever, they dug up all the bodies from the Anglican cemetery to bury them in a Catholic one. they stacked the bodies like cordwood on the corner of Long's Hill and Livingston, and a bunch of people caught diseases from the dead bodies and bit it in my building.
That certainly explained why the haunted hike had a stop under my window every night.