Volume 1: Disturbing TRUE Beach Stories
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Four years. That's how long it took Democrats to ruin our economy and plunge our southern border into anarchy. Who helped them hurt us? Ruben Gallego. Washington could have cut taxes for Arizona families, but Ruben blocked the bill. And his fellow Democrats gave a bigger break to the millionaire class in California and New York. They played favorites and cost us billions. And Ruben wasn't done yet.

Democrats could have secured the border. Instead, they invited an invasion and used our tax dollars to pay for it. Ruben Gallego even backed the law to let them vote in our elections. Don't give Gallego and the Democrats another four years to hurt us. Give your support to a real Arizona leader. Carrie Lake.

Kerry and the Republicans will secure the border, support our families, and never turn their backs on us. Kerry Lake for Senate. I'm Kerry Lake, candidate for U.S. Senate, and I approve this message. Paid for by Kerry Lake for Senate and the NRSC. This all happened yesterday, and I'm sharing from inside our motel room because everything is still so fresh in my mind. But here we go. Fort Bragg, California. Small beach town northwest of Sacramento. It has a kind of Stephen King feel to it.

You know what I mean? That misty, almost eerie small harbor town. But it's beautiful, and it's a huge tourist attraction. You get people from all over the US that travel here. My fiance and I decided to drive up here after I had to take some time off of work due to stress. It was a last minute decision, and we packed up all of our bags in less than 10 minutes, grabbed our dog, and took off. If we wouldn't have had our dog with us, I'm pretty sure I would have lost her. It's our second day here right now.

and we're staying at a motel that overlooks the ocean. We're literally 10 steps from the beach. You can see the fog roll in during the early hours of the morning, and watch the fishing boats leave the harbor to go get their haul for the day. It really is a beautiful thing to see. We woke up early, and I was craving, and I mean CRAVING, eggs and bacon. After getting dressed and deciding what spot to stuff our faces at, we left for our morning adventure. See, here's where I made my mistake.

I was driving down the road and it looked like the stop that we were approaching was a four-way stop sign. I figured wrong because when I pulled out, I cut off a small Ford Ranger with a dinky trailer attached to it and two old men driving. I realized just a little too late that I had cut them off. They threw up their hands, pointed at me, and slammed on their horn. But Lily, my fiancé, didn't even notice it. I threw my hands up in a "sorry, I'm just a dipshit tourist" kind of way.

and all they did was stare me down. It was a hillbilly standoff that George Strait would have been proud of. I didn't think much of it once I got out of the situation. I just kept driving down the foggy two-lane road to get breakfast. I didn't even think to say anything to her about it. I never thought that I'd see those two guys again, and I didn't want her to complain about me not knowing how to drive. I was wrong, though. I was wrong, and I'll never forget what happened next. We got back to the motel after a not-so-great, yet overly expensive breakfast. We strolled onto the beach,

took a moment to take in the lapping waves and feel the ocean spray on our faces before we headed back to our motel room, cuddled up, and talked about our plans for the future and what we wanted to do in life. But midway through our conversation, Lily realized that we were out of dog food to feed Bruce. That's when I agreed to go up to the cute, yet slightly creepy market and grabbing a bag of goodies. I kissed her on the cheek and jumped in the Navi,

I got about halfway to the store before I realized that I had forgotten my wallet on the nightstand. So after a quick U-turn, I pulled back into the motel parking lot, and that's where I saw it. That same Ford Ranger with the janky trailer attached to it. The only difference was that the driver and passenger, a much less affable versions of Hank and Boomhauer, weren't inside of it. I thought to myself, I didn't remember seeing that truck here last night. I walked up to our door while looking over my shoulder wondering,

"What are the chances these douchebags are staying here?" And then, not two seconds later, my heart began to beat faster. Our motel door was open, barely cracked. It was open slightly to the point where you could see a sliver of light, but nothing more inside. I slowly pushed it open, and to my surprise, I didn't see anything. Lily and Bruce were both gone. It was like they were never really there at all. My heart started racing even more, and I dropped my keys on the floor and ran outside.

heart beating faster than a jackhammer in New York. I didn't see Lily or Bruce outside, nor did I see the creepy old guys from the Ford truck. I was becoming both angry and frantic at this point. All I'm thinking is "Where are you guys?" before the screaming inside my head was cut off by the sound of very familiar barking. I heard Bruce, and that's when I ran. I ran faster than I've ever done in my entire 28 years of life. I ran straight over to the front office, where the sound was coming from.

and that's when I saw her and our dog inside the office. Lily was bawling, sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, and Bruce's hair was standing straight up until he saw that it was me sprinting towards them. Lily got up, ran to my arms. Meanwhile, the clerk is on the phone, and I'm left wondering what the f*ck happened in the two minutes that I was gone. This is what happened, told by Lily, and it makes my blood run cold. It turns out as soon as I left,

Not even 30 seconds went by, and that's when those inbred assholes knocked on our door. Lily instinctively opened it up, thinking that it was me forgetting my wallet, which I did. And that's when they tried to force their way into the room, saying, you can thank your boy toy for what's coming to you. All while grabbing her, pushing her, and attempting to cover her mouth. But those assholes didn't realize one thing, and that's that we had a dog in our back seat when I cut them off. Bruce jumped off the bed and didn't hesitate to bite the one grabbing her,

They tried their best to kick him, tried to shake him off, but Bruce wasn't letting go. After being bit and realizing that the noise would draw attention if they didn't leave, they ran off, and Lily was able to sprint to the front office and wait for help while Bruce followed suit. "I wasn't there. I couldn't protect her. If we would have found a dog sitter, and our plans weren't so last minute, she could be gone right now. But my dog was there, and he did exactly what a good boy, no, the best boy,

would do, and for that, he's truly my best friend. If he wasn't there, what would have happened? Would she have been kidnapped? Beaten? Killed? Maybe all of the above? The craziest thing is that they haven't been caught yet. We filed all the reports with the local sheriff. I told them what had happened earlier that morning, and the cop looked right at me and said, "You're lucky your dog was there, son. If he wasn't, and they got in there with her, you could have been filing a different report right now." At that statement,

I felt tears well up in my eyes. I looked over at Lily and at Bruce and thanked God that I rescued him from the pound because in return, he rescued the love of my life when I couldn't. This story happened when I was about five years old back in 2006. My family and I would travel down to the Jersey Shore every summer. We'd never had any problems until this one specific trip. I did ask my mom to help me share this story just to make sure that I had all the details correct.

When I was a child, I was painfully shy, did my best to keep to myself, and to this day, I still have a hard time confronting people or telling people off without choking up. So I was in complete and utter silence when a girl around the age of 7 came up to me and asked me to play with her. I accepted and walked off with the girl to where her toys and stuff were. Looking back, I don't remember telling my parents that I was leaving.

The part of the beach where she was staying was pretty far from where I was staying, and there were very few other people around. It was at the very edge of the beach, before a set of dunes cut off where it would be comfortable to hang out. Now that I look back on it, it was actually very sketchy. This little girl's mom was with her sand toys, but they had nothing else with them. No towels, no umbrella, no chairs, no nothing. Just sand, toys, and the two of them.

But of course, me being the stupid 5 year old that I was, I didn't find this weird at all. Me and the girl swam for I don't even know how long before her mom called us back to the shore. We went over to this lady, and that's when the mom told her daughter that she had forgotten to grab the chairs out of the car and that they needed to head back to the parking lot to get them. The little girl agreed and asked if I wanted to go to the car to help them get the chairs. Again, being shy, especially around adults, I initially hesitated, even said no.

That's when the mom began to put her hand on my shoulder and started leading me towards the parking lot. With her hand still nudging me, I remember her saying, "Oh honey, it's okay. We need all the help we can get. We have a lot of stuff to bring back." My little self almost starting to panic at this point. "No, I think I should get back to my mom. I don't know why and I don't remember how." But somehow I calmed down and began walking with them willingly.

But that's when my mom starts to dart down the beach, screaming my name. Can still hear it ringing around in my head now. "Get your hands off of my daughter." My mom was still fairly far away, but not far enough off where you wouldn't be able to hear her. This little girl's mom deadass ignores my mom, begins to grab my arm tightly, and walks faster. The next thing that this little girl's mom does terrifies me even now, although it didn't back then.

She looks down at me, while still practically pulling me to the parking lot, and says, "Don't listen to her. Just keep walking." Now, I was a dumb little kid, but I wasn't that dumb. I began to cry and scream, saying that I didn't want to help anymore. I just wanted to play with the little girl. Little girl agreed, and she began to look frightened at this point too. My mom caught up to us, ripped me out of this woman's grasp, and ran off with me.

My mom was crying and called my dad to tell him that she had found me. I remember looking back over my shoulder at the little girl and her mother and seeing the mom staring absolute daggers through me. Not moving, just staring. Little girl was doing the same, but she did it with fear in her eyes. And that's a stark contrast from the anger that emanated from her mom. In no way do I blame the little girl in this situation. I believe that her mom was trying to take me.

for reasons that only God knows why. I think that she had told her daughter to make a friend and bring them back to her. For some reason, I remember being mad at my mom because all I wanted to do was play with this little girl. I never really shared this story before, but I thought that I'd share it because while I've read several stories of people almost getting kidnapped in this sub, most of the assailants were creepy men, not so many middle-aged mothers. So I just want to let everyone know that anyone can be dangerous.

And whether you're a kid, an adult, whatever, don't just walk off with anyone you don't know or don't feel comfortable with. By the way, as I was gathering details for this, my mom told me that she was looking for me for about 45 minutes, which means it probably took around 15 minutes to get to that little girl and her mom. Me and little girl played for around 20 minutes, and then 10 minutes of her mother trying to convince me to walk to the parking lot with them. I'm only guessing here.

Trying to recall details from when you're five? Not so easy. I don't know what the plan was for sure, but I know that both on the surface and deep down, I avoided something that could have been life-changing. The search for truth never ends. Introducing June's Journey, a hidden object mobile game with a captivating story. Connect with friends, explore the roaring 20s, and enjoy thrilling activities and challenges while supporting environmental causes.

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Still tastes the same like back in the day. Right now, get two pieces of chicken starting at only $2.99 or 10 pieces starting at only $10.99. Churches. Offer valid at participating locations. Hey, everybody. If you'd like to directly support us as a channel, please consider joining our Patreon. Your support allows me to dedicate more time and effort into creating the content that you enjoy. And by becoming a patron, you'll be able to interact with me directly, be listed within our content as a backer,

assist with content creation, and even gain early access to all of our upcoming releases. Find me at patreon.com/malevolentmischief or simply click the link in the description. I look forward to bringing you even more creepy and unsettling content. Now, let's get back to the stories. This happened to me a couple of months ago now, but when it first happened, given how crazy it was, it took me more than a few weeks to collect myself, just enough to share it with others.

It's relevant for me to tell you upfront that I'm a military veteran and I have PTSD and anxiety as well as a pretty bad case of depression. I've read that various forms of cognitive behavioral therapy can massively improve PTSD symptoms and in turn help to reduce my anxiety, so I've been trying a bunch of techniques at home. The problem there is, my wife and I live in a small two bedroom ground floor flat with an upstairs neighbor.

that has absolutely no care for other people in this world. The typical jock douchebag type who's a personal trainer, but he trains at home too because gains. The kind of guy whose only two topics of conversation are protein powder and steamed rice. I'm sure you can imagine the type. Anyway, with that being a constant issue, meditation and quiet mindfulness are just not possible with the constant noise.

My solution to this was to do my normal routine during the day, but take advantage of my insomnia later on. At around 11pm, maybe midnight, I would don my coat and shoes, and as we lived near the beach, I figured I could walk there, walk on sand, and be mindful to the sounds of the ocean. Sounds nice, doesn't it? It was the first two times. But you know what they say, the third time, that's the charm. The walk to the beach from my house isn't that far,

maybe a little over half a mile. But once I got there, I would walk to the very end of the beach, until you reach the cliffs where there's a World War II artillery gun turret, which was another half mile-ish. Sometimes I would walk the path up the cliff to the gun and stare out into the blackness of the midnight ocean, which was only broken by the occasional flash of light coming from the lighthouse. I would sit and listen to the waves crashing against the cliffs. Sometimes I would close my eyes and just concentrate on nothing,

except for that sound. I felt safe there, knowing I was alone, just me and the expansive ocean. Usually before I turned tail and head home, I would walk down to a small row of benches. They're all marked with plaques in remembrance of someone who also came and enjoyed the view, although I imagine that they came during the day. The benches are close to an old pub that had been shut down years ago, and I had heard the place used to get used as a dogging site, or a brothel, or something like that back in the day.

So when I saw vehicle headlights coming towards the pub, I figured it was some young lads trying to catch potential doggers at it. I sat on the bench and waited for the car to pass, but as it rounded the bend, I was momentarily lit up by the headlamps. The headlights of the vehicle went off immediately, and the car went off-road and out of sight for a moment. At this point, I was fully alert and a bit cautious, so I dropped to one knee and ducked behind the bench that I had been sitting on.

The vehicle drove past me, it was only maybe 40 feet from me, and as the lighthouse illuminated the car, I could now see that it was an old beat up Land Rover kind of vehicle, even equipped with shit camo on the wings. At that moment, someone popped out of the top of the vehicle with a scoped rifle and a big flashlight. In that instant, in my head, I was back in Iraq and my senses felt razor sharp. I dropped flat onto my stomach,

crawled into a patch of long grass adjacent to the benches. Then I got in a position where I could see them, but they wouldn't be able to see me. The guy with the rifle shone his torch at the exact bench that I had been sitting on, then the others, no doubt in search for me. He started looking all around him through the scope, looking for where I might have gone. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt as if they could hear it. I held my sleeve over my mouth to muffle the sound of my breathing, but more importantly, to try and hide the condensation of my breath.

The vehicle started to move to get a better view of the benches, so I started slowly crawling towards the main road, as not only is there a row of houses, but an old stone bus stop I could take hard cover in if they saw me in open fire. After about five minutes of hiding in the long grass, it began to rain, and they were still clearly looking for me, but were now about 150 feet away. The guy with the rifle was scanning around with his eye down the scope, so I waited till he was looking away from me to seize my moment and run for cover.

I pushed my hands hard into the wet dirt to launch myself onto my feet. Then I sprinted towards the bus stop while throwing some zigs and zags in there just in case they had seen me. Luckily, they hadn't, and I was now far enough away that I could take out my phone and call the police. They were there with a riot van and a squad car in about 10 minutes, and as I was talking with the officers in the van, they spotted the gunner's vehicle and took off after them. The officers in the squad car stayed behind to talk to me.

The rain was coming down in sheets by now. They asked me if I was absolutely sure it was a rifle, and I told them yes, it 100% was. The officers both looked at each other, and then one of them asked, "And what exactly is your experience with firearms?" I told them I was ex-army, and had seen my fair share of all kinds of firearms. They then asked me what I was doing there after midnight, which is a pretty fair question to be honest.

I explained that quite ironically, I was taking a mindfulness walk to ease my PTSD symptoms. They were satisfied with that explanation, if not somewhat amused, and told me that the armed response unit was en route. I asked if they needed me to stay behind and make a statement, but the officers told me to not bother waiting around because they most likely wouldn't need to take a statement beyond the call that I made. And also, with the rain torrent coming down, I should get home and get dry. It was over, but I still felt super weird.

and my heart was still thumping a mile a minute in my chest. I started the walk home, and when I was about halfway there, a police helicopter buzzed overhead and settled over the area where I had been sitting on the benches, full on spotlight going. It was right then that it hit me like a shotgun to the chest. That happened. That was fucking real. My head started swimming, my heart was pounding twice as hard now, and my legs felt like jelly. My lungs felt glitchy, like I couldn't breathe properly.

I dropped to my knees, practically crying in the street in the pouring rain, the only light coming from a nearby street lamp with a flickering bulb. As I was gasping for breath, thoughts flashing in my head, thinking that if I had stayed still, if I hadn't hunched behind the bench, if I hadn't done any number of things differently, then I could have gurgled my last breath alone in the dark, cold, wet dirt. My wife would have been none the wiser till the following day. I have no idea if they were there for me.

And if they were, how could they know that I'd be there? I'd been twice before, I suppose. And it's not like there are animals to hunt there beyond foxes. But why hunt for foxes from a vehicle with a rifle and a torch at midnight? I'm not ashamed to say that this experience terrified me. I guess my army training helped me to stay alert and to stay hidden. But I don't really know. I don't go walking at night anymore, and I have the occasional nightmare about this whole thing. I'm sure you understand.

After surviving what I survived in the service of my country, I don't want to go face to face with those things while I'm on home soil. Update. Today, I made a call to the local police to try and get an update on what happened. After a quick description of what the initial incident was, the officer on the phone was able to find the incident report right away. Basically, the first officers on the scene confirmed that they had seen a vehicle and that they had gone off-road in pursuit.

They said they had given chase over difficult terrain for as long as they were able to. Then the vehicle turned off all lights and made an escape using the dark as cover. The armed response units were called as a precaution and patrolled the entire area while the helicopter was dispatched in order to try and locate the vehicle with heat cameras. Both teams were unsuccessful in finding them, as by the time they had arrived on scene, the perpetrators had gotten away. CCTV was also checked, but yielded absolutely nothing.

I told the officer over the phone that I was sorry if they felt that I had wasted their time, and that perhaps I had overreacted on account of my PTSD. She told me that as far as they're concerned, I did the right thing. She also said that there had been a few isolated accounts of gunshots having been heard in that area over the last few weeks, so maybe rethink taking my walk so late at night. I didn't have the energy to explain why I would wait until so late to go walking, but any advice about avoiding getting shot is good advice in my book, so instead, I

I just agreed with her before ending the call. After I'd hung up, I just sat for a few minutes going over the whole thing in my head. I guess there's a possibility that it was nothing when all is said and done, but if nothing else, this taught me that being hypervigilant isn't always such a bad thing.

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