I'm from Myrtle Beach, a town in South Carolina that is not known for ghost stories. It's known more for it's tourist attractions and golf courses. However, many little surrounding towns are home to folklore and ghost stories.

This story takes place in Georgetown, a town about 30 miles south of Myrtle Beach, and is entirely true.

Old Gunner's church has always been said to be haunted. It was built in the early 1900's and caught fire in the late 1930's, supposedly killing many members of the church who were attending service. Not only is it said to be haunted, but also dangerous to enter, seeing as though the foundation is no longer stable because of fire and having been abandoned for so long.

In my senior year of high school, a group of friends and I, one night, decided to drive out there and see what all the hype was about. None of us believed much in the paranormal, having never had experiences with it ourselves. That night would change everything.

At around twelve-thirty one evening, myself and four friends had pulled the car up to the gate at the end of the long dirt road. Woods surrounded the whole area and the closest thing to civilization was the gas station over six miles back.
Because of the fact that I was the smallest, I was made to crawl under the hole in the fence and pull the fence back so the big guys could get through.
The second I stepped under that fence I had this huge sense of dread. It was as if something bad was about to happen. I, however, chalked it up to nerves because of the stories i'd heard about that place.

We split up, two of us going to the steps of the church, and the other three going around back.
Myself and my best guy friend at the time were the ones who ended up on the front steps of the church. As soon as we were on the top landing, it became very cold, where we could see our breath. Since it was a hot southern August, I was extremely unnerved by this fact. I turned to look at my friend, and right as I did, we heard loud screams coming from inside the church. They sounded like screams of terror and pain, and I had a brief flash of an image in my head of a woman. She was running towards the door, and her face was burning off. My friend told me he had the same vision.

Things just kept getting louder and more intense. The doors began to shake and the screams were unbearable. I had to hold my ears because they were so loud. I looked at my friend, and the look on his face was answer enough.
We took off running down the steps. As soon as we were off of them, the screaming stopped and the hot, muggy summer air came back. We heard our three friends running towards us. When they arrived, they asked us where we'd been. We looked at them confused and told them we'd been standing on the front steps. They proceeded to tell us that when they'd heard the screaming, they'd come running, thinking it was us, but when they'd gotten to the front steps, we weren't there. They said they'd circled the church numerous times, and couldn't find us.
Looking at my watch, I saw that it was 1:47 in the morning. They said we'd been gone for over an hour.

After recounting what we'd heard and felt, and hearing their experience, we hauled butt out of there, and have never returned.
However, to this day, on occasion, I have dreams about the woman with the burning face, and my boyfriend says I scream blood curdling screams in my sleep, and it takes him a long time to wake me up.