I'm reading a collection of horror short stories written by a young italian writer. The one with the creepy clown is really scary.
Answering to Julie's question, I add a huge Yes I do. I personally witnessed some odd things happened, that kind od strange things you can't explained with rationality.
Personal story following, maybe a little boring.. I thought to put it in spoiler but it's not working properly today and some functions here are simply blank.
For example, some years ago my family and I moved in this house, the one we still live in. It's a huge old farm, with a lot of wide rooms, built for the first time in 1790 or so (during the years it had to go through a lot of changes and re-buildings) surrounded by nothing but acres of country. In the 1950s the house was split in three parts and a large family of farmer lived in each of the part. The last grandsons of that ancient family decided to move to Verona in 1995 and the house stood empty until our house owner bought it and found us as a sort of keepers in 2004. We moved into one of the parts and we were all so busy with the boxes and stuff we didn't mind to have a glance to the other two parts. Every evening during dinner, we used to hear a soft music in the air: a slow sad touching piano song. We thought our neighbours (who live almost 500 m from us) were great players and that's all. One day our neighbours came to visit us and we were all "Oh, who plays the piano so greatfully?" "It's so wounderful to have dinner with your playing as background". The housband looked at his wife and then "None of us can play the piano. We don't have one. What's more we don't like music and we don't even have a radio". My brother went white as a blanket, as we say it in Italy. My best friend and I (she was having dinner with us every evening at that time.. well, no, she still does) decided to have a look at the closed room. And in the living room of the third part of the house, the one in the east, we found a smashed piano laying broken on the floor and a picture on the wall showing a young lady playing. There was a lot of rubbish on the broken piano.. we removed it and tried to fix some of the parts, but the damages were serious and we gave up. When we told the story to my family my brother - who's the bravest in the world - really freaked out and refuse to sleep in his bedroom that was the closest to the other part of the house. I took it. I've been sleeping here for 9 years now and nothing odd ever happened. We never heard the piano playing since that very evening. Not a note. But after all these years I can't still find a rational answer to explain what happened. It's not a Halloween story, believe me. My friend still have a white key of that musical instrument.