I don't have any photos of either of these events, though this first one happened relatively recently.
I was driving along a backroad on the other side of an air srtip with my family when I happened to glance to the right and notice that there was an airplane seemingly hanging in the air. Like, not moving. At all. Just frozen there. Thinking I was hallucinating I asked the fam to look, and they were all astonished too. We slowed down to nearly a crawl and the plane was still just... hanging there. Now this road is flat af. I have driven it before, and it is smoother and flatter than a loli's chest. This wasn't some kind of weird motion/movement thing caused by perception. I got so creeped out we all sped off, and for some reason no one thought to take a picture of this.
This one is truly creepy to me still today.
I had a cleaning gig that I did with a friend of my parents(gonna call this person C for short). It was only on Saturdays because we cleaned... churches. Yep, just churches. Surprisingly good money in that and you can hit several in one day if the area is small enough.
Well anyways, there was a separate backroom in this church. It was oddly placed, but according to C this was always the last place that got cleaned since it was kind of out of the way. So we cleaned the whole church, took maybe 30 minutes to do what we had to do as it wasn't especially large or dirty. We met up in front of the room to this door and prepared to go inside as C had done so many other times before.
We opened the door and both of us froze in the door. The light was weird in the room. It's like light wasn't following the normal rules. There was a narrow band of light about 3 quarters back, but the light was quite bright. Somehow it didn't seem to light the rest of the room at all. Even the light from the main church seemed to stop at the door frame. What's more, I've always had excellent night vision, but the interior of the room seemed like it was barely perceptible. It was like it was... fuzzy almost? I could see vague shapes and objects, but I couldn't make out anything. And it felt like I should be able to see things, but the room at large was like it was only lit ever so slightly, enough to just barely tell there were things in it. This was all underscored by some low music, like something out of the 50's maybe, but it was just instrumental.
Both C and I got the vague sense there was someone in the room, but we couldn't see anyone, and no one responded to our calls. We ran outta there. When we got out to the car we talked about it a bit. C told me that they felt fear like they had never felt before, and I agreed, except for a strange dream I'd had once when I'd felt the same sense of fear. We both agreed though, that whatever was going on in that room was evil, dark. But it was a strange, primal fear. I was so scared I felt nauseous and like I had heartburn at the same time. That feeling comes back even now when I think of that day, that door, that room. Like I narrowly escaped some fate that I can't even begin to fathom.
I met up with C again recently, and they brought up the topic of that room. Turns out they had quit cleaning that particular church. Right after they dropped me off all those years ago, they had called the church and told them they wouldn't be cleaning for them anymore. Oddly, C felt the need to take me aside from everyone else to tell me this. I really think this traumatized C as much as it did me, and that shared trauma became both a bond and but also something that could only be spoken about in hushed tones away from others. But C, like me, still feel fear at the thought of that room. I'll never know what was in there, and I don't want to.