I remember a true story my father used to tell me that happened to him as a young teenager.
He grew up in Queens, NY , about five minutes away from a rather large and old cemetery. In fact, some mausoleums were so old that with a little bit of force one could crack open the entry door to sneak in. It was a Friday night (1958 to be exact) when my father and his friend Andy were dared to spend a night in a mausoleum. If they accomplished this, both boys would receive some valuable comics. If they didn't complete the dare, they would be looked at as "chickens". To prove they had spent the night, the boys were required to bring back a piece of the mausoleum and be found sleeping in it early the next day.
This was done, however, my father and his friend could not keep their candles lit. Every time they would light one, a wind gust (even with the mausoleum door closed) would put the candle out. This of course, my father told me, creeped him out the most. They stayed up all night trying to stay warm while it snowed outside. Eventually they chipped a piece off the mausoleum with their hammer and chisel to show their friends the next day. The boys got their comic books and went home very proud of themselves.
My father had put the piece of mausoleum in his chest before dinner only to realize it vanished after dinner. To this day he does not know what happened to it. Needless to say, he no longer watches horror movies and gave up reading horror comics as a child.