TONI SHAPIRO'S ODYSSEY: 3 TRUE PARANORMAL ENCOUNTERS

FEATURED ON THE PARANORMAL PORTAL UK PODCAST

Season 2 episodes 3 & 5

Also available on other major podcast platforms

In this instalment of Beyond the Veil, we present Toni Shapiro's Odyssey. Join us as we journey across the pond to America to meet Toni Shapiro, a passionate writer, paranormal enthusiast, and one of our dedicated listeners who reached out to share her extraordinary encounters for our podcast series. In this article, we’ll unveil her chilling tales one by one, each a testament to a life intertwined with the unexplained.

Toni’s journey into the paranormal began early, with her first documented encounter featured in American Paranormal Press Magazine. Since then, she’s become a beacon for those navigating similar experiences, sharing her stories on platforms like The Haunted Attic, Weird Wiltshire, and OU Paranormal World. Her voice has echoed across podcasts such as Let’s Get Freaky, Ghosts in the Valley, and Spooks and Ghouls International, and she’s made multiple appearances on UK radio, including Lawrence Writes radio show, Now, Toni is channelling her passion into launching paranormaltendency.com, a platform for writers, bloggers, and video creators to share their own eerie tales. For anyone grappling with strange encounters, Toni is a willing guide—reachable on Facebook at Toni Shapiro or on X at @ToniLawler—always ready to listen and support.

Here, we present her three gripping stories, each a window into a world beyond the veil.

ENCOUNTER ONE(1964): THE SCISSORS IN THE NIGHT

At just four years old, Toni Shapiro faced her first brush with the supernatural in a century-old house her family called home. Sharing bedrooms with her mother or grandmother, Toni’s nights were typically uneventful, her small cabinet neatly packed with colouring books, crayons, and a pair of child-safe scissors she diligently stored before bed. But one night in 1964, the air grew thick with an unseen presence.

Toni awoke to find a child standing in the corner of her bedroom, illuminated in a way that set him apart from her playmates. His furrowed brow and desperate expression stirred her curiosity more than fear, and though no words passed between them, a silent understanding seemed to form. That empathy shattered when a tall, skeletal figure emerged from the shadows behind him. Its jagged, strobe-like movements and twisted, malevolent face—blue bulging eyes and an insidious grin—froze Toni in terror. Gasping for breath, she watched as the entity turned its gaze to her cabinet, flicking it open with bony fingers to seize her scissors.

The room echoed with the chilling snip, snip, snip as the figure advanced, savoring her fear. Paralyzed beside her sleeping mother, Toni finally screamed, diving under the blankets. Peeking out, she met the demon’s gaze inches from her tear-streaked face—snip, snip, snap! Her cries roused her mother, grandmother, and sister, who rushed in to find her hysterical. Assured she was unharmed, they swapped her sleeping arrangements, and Toni spent a sleepless night with her grandmother. The next morning, creeping back to retrieve her shoes, she found her scissors on the floor—exactly where the entity had dropped them—proof that the nightmare was real. She never slept in her mother’s room again.

ENCOUNTER TWO(2008): THE POLTERGEIST ASSAULT

Toni’s sensitivity to the paranormal, a gift inherited from her grandmother and mother, had shadowed her since childhood—spectral visitations and spiritual warnings, often heralded by recurring numbers like “555” or “222.” In 2002, she moved from California to Louisiana to study jazz and blues, and soon noticed “555” and “55” everywhere—clocks, billboards, radios. Days later, her son delivered devastating news: her mother had died on May 5 (5/5), a horrific loss too painful to detail. Returning to California as executor of the estate, Toni settled into a charming 1932 house with a fenced yard for her collie, Bonnie. For six years, it felt untainted by the supernatural.

Then, in 2008, Toni chose to sleep in the original bedroom, a rarely used space with a bathroom and narrow closet. Settling in with Bonnie, the quiet was shattered when an unseen force yanked Toni from her chaise lounge, hurling her across the room without touching the floor. Bonnie whimpered in pain, as if attacked too. Fighting empty air, Toni faced a strength beyond human. The bedroom door wouldn’t budge. Slammed into the bathroom, she crashed against the wall, shattering a ceramic towel holder and gasping as pain seared her ribs. Dragged out, she was flung around again, then thrown headlong into the closet, her skull striking hard. Yanked back by her ankles, she lost consciousness.

Awakening amid debris—her 150-pound drafting desk overturned, furniture broken, clothes strewn—Bonnie circled in distress. Barely able to stand, Toni staggered to the door, which now opened easily. Bonnie bolted out, never returning to that room. Months later, a neighbour revealed a chilling history: years earlier, she and friends had conducted dark rituals there—séances, orgies, and unspeakable acts—unleashing a malevolent force. Unable to bear the house any longer, Toni eventually sold it, hoping to leave the nightmares behind.

ECOUNTER THREE(2020): SHADOWS OF THE PANDEMIC

In 2020, as the pandemic turned the world surreal, Toni and her husband settled into a picturesque California desert community, its beauty overshadowed by a cemetery across the street. A frequent daytime visitor to graveyards, Toni grew uneasy as the death toll surged—three to five burials daily became routine, the air thick with sorrow.

One quiet night, hunched over her desktop computer in the dimly lit kitchen, Toni felt her skin prickle. As the screen booted up, its reflection revealed a shadowy figure—eerily resembling her husband—moving from his office toward the bathroom. Calling his name yielded no response. Spinning around, she watched the figure enter the bathroom, but it never emerged. The open door revealed only darkness, sending chills down her spine. Rushing to their bedroom, she found her husband asleep, confirming the figure was not him. Unnerved, she switched to a laptop, working from the couch to face the hallway.

Three nights later, past midnight, that familiar dread returned. Looking up, Toni froze—a shimmering, three-foot-tall figure with hollow eyes stood before the fireplace. “Not again!” she shouted, but it turned and vanished into the fireplace. Weeks later, alone in bed with the hallway light filtering in, she awoke to the same entity peering over the mattress from her husband’s side. “It’s time to get up!” she yelled, scrambling out of bed as it disappeared. The encounters ceased, but questions lingered: Was the cemetery’s proximity or the pandemic’s toll thinning the veil?

CONCLUSION: A SENSITIVE SOUL IN A HAUNTED WORLD

Toni Shapiro’s experiences defy easy explanation, prompting both scepticism and belief. Rational theories abound: In 1964, could a child’s imagination, fuelled by an old house’s creaks, have conjured the spectral child and skeletal figure? The scissors on the floor might suggest a sleepwalking episode or a forgotten action. The 2008 assault might stem from a vivid nightmare or an emotional response to an unsettled new home, amplified by fatigue. In 2020, late-night work and pandemic stress could have triggered hallucinations or sleep paralysis, especially with the small entity peering over her bed.

Yet, these explanations falter against the vivid consistency of Toni’s accounts. The physical evidence of the scissors, the distinct figures seen while awake, and the sheer force of the poltergeist attack—broken furniture, injured ribs, a traumatized dog—suggest more than mere imagination. Toni claims a familial sensitivity to spirits, a trait that may amplify her perception of the unseen. Her encounters often follow moves to new homes—perhaps stirring restless energies—or align with heightened negativity, like the pandemic’s toll or the dark rituals confessed by her neighbour. Those séances and devilish acts may have birthed a malevolent entity, its violence echoing cases like Doris Bither’s or the Perrons’. The recurring numbers (555, 222) preceding tragedies further hint at a spiritual atonement.

TONI SHAPIRO'S ODYSSEY: SCPUK THOUGHTS

We at South Coast Paranormal UK conclude that Toni’s experiences are genuine. The specificity of her visions, the tangible aftermath, and her lifelong pattern of encounters point to a rare sensitivity to the spirit world. Far from isolated delusions, her stories—though often unwitnessed—align with a personal gift, corroborated by physical evidence and historical context. Toni Shapiro doesn’t just live with the paranormal—she bridges it, offering a voice to the unseen and a hand to those who share her haunted path.