35 Of The Best True Scary Stories Of 2024 So far (Compilation)
05:55:29 Share

Imagine what's possible when learning doesn't get in the way of life. At Capella University, our game-changing FlexPath learning format lets you set your own deadline so you can learn at a time and pace that works for you. It's an education you can tailor to your schedule. That means you don't have to put your life on hold to pursue your professional goals. Instead, enjoy learning your way and earn your degree without missing a beat. A different future is closer than you think with Capella University. Learn more at capella.edu.

Imagine the softest sheets you've ever felt. Now imagine them getting even softer over time. That's what you'll feel with Bull & Branch's best-selling signature sheets in 100% organic cotton. In a recent customer survey, 96% replied that Bull & Branch sheets get softer with every wash. Start getting your best night's sleep in sheets. They get softer and softer for years to come. Try their sheets with a 30-night guarantee. Plus, for a limited time, get 20% off your first order. At bullandbranch.com, code SPAN. Exclusions apply. See site for details.

Hey there, friends. Hope you're having a wonderful day so far. I know I am. I wanted to come in here and say that today's episode is going to be a compilation of 35 of my favorite stories from this year. These aren't necessarily what I would consider the best performing stories, though some of them did do well, obviously. It's just that these stories are some of my favorites. They were interesting to me, they were fun to narrate, and I wanted to do a compilation of them.

So yeah, you may have heard some of these stories recently, maybe not, depends on how long you've been listening or, you know, which episodes you've listened to, but I figured I would come in here and just say, yeah, it's a compilation of 35 of the, not best, like, that's not what I meant to say, 35 of my favorite stories from 2024, and I hope that you enjoy. I used to work the late shift at a local gas station, the shift where all you get is regulars and random people passing through.

We were just off an exit by a major freeway, so we would typically only get people that were just going into work early in the morning, or people that were driving through town and needed to stop for gas. It was a decent job. Most people were decent, and really there wasn't much to complain about. We had this one customer that would come in a few times a week named Tom.

Tom was a nice dude, late 30s or early 40s, seemed kind-hearted and always had something he wanted to talk about, or he would have a joke that he really wanted to tell. From what I knew about him, he was just a night owl, and he'd been in a few times, and he just kind of latched onto our station as a bit of a safe haven, a place to spend a few minutes away, socialize a bit, and then get on with his night.

Over time, Tom and I had developed what most people would call friendship, though it only ever existed at work for me. He started being a bit more open with some of the hardships in his life, and he'd certainly been through some tough times. It never felt like a sob story, though. He just seemed like he wanted to share who he was, and that was that.

I appreciated it. We talked through some things. He gave me advice about my relationship based on his relationship with his ex-wife. That kind of thing. One of the topics that would always seem to knock his cheery demeanor down a notch, though, was his younger brother, Mark. Mark apparently struggled with addiction, as an on-and-off kind of thing. He'd been to rehab, he'd gotten clean, and then he relapsed within the same year.

something that had happened multiple times in the last decade. Despite this, Tom was dedicated to his little brother, and he had put in a lot of time and money to help him out, to the point that Mark was now living with him. From what I gathered, this was actually one of the reasons his marriage fell apart.

because Tom was unwilling to let Mark die on the streets, and his wife basically told him it was her or Mark. Tom wasn't willing to give up, and he really believed that things would get better. One evening, I was sweeping up the floor and wiping down some of the station's surfaces when I heard the bell chime. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was about 3:30 in the morning.

which typically meant it was going to be a regular over a traveler. I glance over, and I see Tom's head over the shelf. I shouted out, "Hey Tom, I'll be right up in a moment. Let me just finish wiping this down." He didn't say anything, so I quickly finished wiping down the soda fountain and made my way to the front, but immediately paused when I looked over at Tom.

The first thing I noticed was that he looked like he'd been crying, and his eyes were wide in shock. The second thing I noticed was that his hands and shirt were covered in blood. I rushed over to him to ask him if he was okay, what had happened. He lifted his hands to stop me from approaching, and shook his head before just saying, ''Call the cops. Please, just call the cops.''

I hesitated for a moment, not really sure what was going on, but after a few seconds of thinking it over, I just told him, okay, and walked behind the counter to call 911. When they answered, I told them that I had a customer that was requesting the police, and Tom broke down sobbing uncontrollably. He slumped down to the floor and just kept saying,

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I didn't mean for this to happen. I was in shock, but just kept trying to relay what I was seeing to the dispatcher and told her that I needed an officer there ASAP. It really was not something I would have expected to have to deal with. Tom was such a kind-hearted and gentle man, but the thought of him hurting someone and to do so in a way that covered him in blood like that...

It just seemed impossible. After the dispatcher disconnected, I tried to talk to him to ask him what had happened, trying to keep him calm and connected to the real world. He kept apologizing over and over, saying that he didn't mean to do it, that he didn't mean to get me involved, he just didn't know where else to go. I told him it was okay, that it would get figured out, and that I wasn't mad at him.

He just stayed sitting on the floor with his knees curled up, crying his eyes out and apologizing. After a couple of moments, we heard the sirens, and that seemed to push him to a sobering point. He'd stopped crying, wiped his face on his sleeve, and cleared his throat as he watched the officers walk to the door. Obviously, they were as confused as I was, asking what exactly was going on.

I guess the look on my face told them that I had no idea as they turned their attention to Tom, sitting on the floor and covered in blood. They asked him what had happened and he stood up saying, "I'm not going to cause you any trouble. I'm not going to fight back. Please just arrest me." The officer asked him why he needed to be arrested and I will never forget the dark and painful tone he took on when he responded with, "I murdered my brother."

The officer asked him a few more questions, just trying to clarify that he was saying what he thought he was saying, and he confirmed with them again, and again that he had murdered his brother. After a bit of back and forth, they did lead him out of the store, and one of the officers came back to ask me some questions. All I could offer were the fragments of his life that I was aware of, that he lived with his brother Mark, that Mark was an addict and was a cause of a lot of stress for Tom.

None of it really seemed helpful, other than to confirm that he did have a brother and that the possibility was there. The rest of the shift after they left was eerily quiet, and I was mentally in a weird place. I found out a few days later that Tom had actually gotten into a very violent altercation with Mark. In a moment of desperation and confusion that was fueled by years of pent-up frustration,

Tom had attacked Mark. He left him really, really messed up after attacking him, to the point that Tom thought he was dead. Mark actually did not die from the attack, but had come rather close to death. He was in the hospital and was going to need a lot of work and recovery time, but he was most likely going to live. The news hit me kind of hard.

I was forced to think back on all the nights that I'd spent having aimless conversations with Tom, and how much he had wanted his brother to get better. It is terrifying to me to really think about how quickly and how sharply things can go from "I'm doing everything I can to help you get better" to attempted murder. And Tom was not a person that I would ever anticipate getting violent.

In the end, I guess we all have our own demons. Those voices inside our head that lead to those intrusive thoughts. And unfortunately for Tom, those demons won that night. I guess I just hope that that night was a turning point for both brothers, and that they both got the help they needed. This happened a number of years ago, but every time it comes up, I legit get chills down my spine and get sensory overload.

Like, all of my senses. I had moved to a new city for a job. My work decided I needed to transfer to a new location. They paid for the move and the first two months of rent, but that was it. And unfortunately, there were some logistics issues that ended up with me not working for nearly four weeks. This kind of sucked, as not working meant not getting paid.

It was confusing. I was supposed to be salary, but was still paid based on hours worked. It's not really relevant, so I'm not going to try and figure it out in this story. I don't work there anymore, and I would never recommend that company to anyone. I do still live here, and I found a new job since, but again, neither here nor there. Anyways, not working for those few weeks meant that I had very little money to my name.

They paid for rent, sure, but I still needed food, and I wasn't going to sit at home and do nothing for a month. I figured the quickest way to make some cash would be to do some gig work, and I had heard a friend once tell me about all the money he was making working for people on Craigslist. I went to check it out, and I saw an ad for a guy that was offering $200 cash to help him do some lifting for a few hours that weekend.

It seemed like easy money, and I was totally free, so I sent him a message asking if he still needed the help. He responded pretty much right away, saying that he did, and that since I was the first to respond, if I wanted it, he would send me the details and delete the post, and the job was mine, no questions asked. I agreed, basically said screw it, let's do this, and he texted me the information.

That weekend when I pulled up, I was a bit nervous about the whole thing. I'd had the whole week to really think about the fact that I was walking into someone else's house to do work, and they were offering a good chunk of money. Of course, my thoughts went to this being a scam, or worse, bait, and the house itself wasn't very well kept, so that just kept adding to my worst-case scenario thoughts.

I figured I would gauge the situation based on who answered the door, get the job done quickly, and get the hell out of Dodge. I knocked on the front door, and this scraggly old dude in a greasy tank top answered, and I immediately decided that if he tried anything funny, I could probably take him. I don't know why that's where my mind went, but it was. He asked, "'Are you here for the moving gig?'

I nodded, and he led me into the house without another word. The place was pretty rank. It had a stench that I couldn't place, and it was definitely heading in the direction of a hoarder's house. He then led me out to the backyard, which was just as bad. Overgrown, littered with garbage and old appliances, in the middle was a huge sofa, ironically covered in one of those plastic dust covers, so it actually looked like it was in good condition.

There was other furniture, boxes that looked old, plastic tubs, and just a lot of what looked like trash covered by a large blue tarp. He pulls the tarp up, and it's more of the same. He then motions towards the clutter and says, "I need you to get all this stuff here and move it into the garage. It's been emptied out, so there's tons of space, but all of this needs to go in there."

I walk over and look at the pile, and then over at the garage, which, yeah, was surprisingly emptied out. I shrugged, figured it would go quickly enough, and got to work. I grab some of the boxes off the top and move them into the garage. He kind of dictates where he wants them, explains his organization process.

It was a bit strange. He seemed to have a good idea of how he wanted things, but the state of everything in the yard and house made it seem like he struggled with keeping things organized. I spent a couple of hours moving and organizing a few things, doing a bit extra and helping him move some of the furniture and other items that weren't in the pile. Not the plastic-covered couch, though. He said that it was a nice place to sit and look at the yard.

We got near the end of it, and all that was left was a couple of plastic tubs and another item that looked rather large, which was covered in its own tarp. Yes, a tarp-covered item underneath a tarp. It was odd, but I figured he just really wanted that to be protected. I grab the tarp to pull it off, and he calls out to me to leave it. I look back at him and mention that I don't mind moving it if he needed it moved.

He stands up and walks over to me, which was the first time he had done that all afternoon, and again tells me to go ahead and just leave that. I got a bit curious, and I asked him what it was. He just chuckled, saying not to worry about it, and then motioned towards the other tubs. He then says that if I can get those taken care of, he'll go get my money and order a pizza for lunch, if I wanted to stay.

saying that he was more than pleased with my work, and that I at least deserved something to eat. I just sort of nodded and said that I appreciated it. He quickly hobbled off into the house, saying that he was going to call in for the pizza and that he'd be back in a few minutes. As soon as he disappears into the house, I decide that I need to know what was under that tarp, thinking it was going to be some sort of weird porn stash or something, and I wish that it were.

I lifted the tarp up, and to my surprise, there's a damn coffin under this thing. A legitimate coffin, made of a nice, shiny mahogany, still in perfect condition. Now, this was weird, sure, but it wasn't too weird. I mean, you can just buy coffins, right? They're not illegal to own, and while they're expensive, I'm certain you can just go buy one and have it.

And then I decided that I wanted to open it. Thinking, you know what? I've never seen what the inside of a coffin looks like. What I didn't expect was that this wooden box would have an occupant. I'm not going to get into details, but yes, there was a body in this coffin. Yes, it was real. And yes, it was just as disgusting and horrifying as one might think.

I shut the lid and covered it all back up immediately. I very quickly turned to finish the rest of the tubs so that I could get out of their ASAP. When he came back out, he handed me the money and saw that I had finished the rest of the work and thanked me. I told him that as much as I wanted to stay for the pizza, my mom had actually texted me saying that she needed me to come over, family emergency and all that.

He seemed to buy it, saying that he hoped everything was okay. I told him that I'm sure it would be fine, just that I needed to go, and quickly apologized for the timing. He said it was fine, that the pizza was going to get eaten either way, and he thanked me again for my help. I rushed myself out of there as quickly as I could, getting to my car and driving out of that neighborhood and away from that whole situation.

When I got home, I struggled to decide if I should call 911 about the whole thing. I honestly didn't know the legalities, but I also didn't know if that body belonged to a loved one or a missing person. So I did end up calling 911, and I have to say that as I explained it, it sounded ridiculous. I told them about why I was there,

explained that there was a dead body in a coffin, and that I was certain that it was real. She assured me that they would check it out. I have no idea if they actually did or what they found, but I know that I haven't set foot in that part of town since then. I learned a lesson. Don't ask questions, do the job, and ignore the curiosity when it comes to large boxes under tarps.

Hey Raven, I wanted to share a story that happened to me and my friends back in 2012. My friends and I love exploring. The city we lived in used to be more of a factory town. The houses were old and many of them used to be owned by the people that owned the old factory in the town as well. Many people that worked at the factory basically rented the homes from them.

The idea of your landlord also being your boss is really weird to me, but that's beside the point. Nowadays, the houses are owned by individuals, such as my childhood home that my parents owned. They never considered moving, even when they expressed their frustration with certain repairs, but I also understand that they owned that place since they married, and it meant a lot to them.

But as a kid, sometimes it was the uncoolest place to hang out. And since there were a lot of empty and abandoned buildings around us, we always found a place to venture into. The story is about one of those places. Right on the outskirts of the city, there was a pretty large building where a hardware store used to be. I remember going there with my dad as a kid, and it was pretty run down then.

I believe when the owners passed, their kids just sold it and that was the end of it. Since then, it had been sitting empty and abandoned. My friends and I would drive by it and see an unmarked police car in the parking lot, which only made it more interesting to us. If it was truly empty, then why were police presence necessary? Then, finally, no one was there for two weeks straight. We took the opportunity to finally check it out.

We parked at the gas station across the street and walked over to the building. We went around back and my friend was able to pry the door open pretty easily. Once inside, it was pretty obvious the place wasn't that empty. Most of the stock was gone, of course, but the shelves and racks were still standing like they'd just cleared out. There were signs about the last offers they had sitting at the registers, covered in dust.

From somewhere above, there was some kind of airflow as you could hear the subtle creaks from the signs swaying, which was pretty eerie when that was pretty much the only sound in there. I knew what happened to the place, as my dad told me about it, but it was kind of odd to see the place left as it was. Why did the kids sell or get rid of the inventory but leave literally everything else?

I like to just see these places as they are and leave them that way, but I know a lot of people that would gut something like this and scrap and sell it all. Maybe that was why the police were there. To prevent that. Anyways, we made our way to the back of the store where the employee area was. To my surprise, they had one of the literal punch-in time cards. There was even a stack of employee cards in the organizer nearby.

We went through all the cards, just reading the names and their times. They were clearly many years old, but there was still something about it that was kind of stepping back in time. Walking in at the age of eight, immediately smelling wood shavings and paint, now seeing the employee side of things, I quite enjoyed it. After we got our fill of the employee room, we walked out and towards the other side of the building.

This was where all the small hardware stuff was, like screws and bolts. There was actually a container that was filled with bolts, washers, nuts, just a bunch of random parts. Again, we just looked through all the little containers and display items on the wall, messing around and talking to each other.

We'd been doing this for some time, so we were all pretty calm throughout this. Probably a little too relaxed, because my friend Faith decided to climb up one of the racks to see if she could get to the top. Oliver told her not to, I may have encouraged her, because if she could do it, I wanted to climb up there too.

However, to our surprise, the shelves were not bolted down in any way, and it was almost like we watched it in slow motion as it started falling backwards towards Ollie and I. I didn't move quick enough and it fell back on me, as well as Faith, while Ollie managed to get out from the other side. I dropped to the ground, at least hoping to not be too injured, but also hoping to make a soft landing for Faith.

Her head did hit me, but that rack was heavy as hell, considering it held all the hardware that it did. It knocked the wind out of me, but thankfully, Faith responded too, so I knew that she was okay. The crash, however, was painfully loud, and it had to have been heard from the outside, so we knew that we needed to get out quickly. Ollie called out to make sure that we were both conscious and okay, and asked if we could move.

Faith was able to get to her hands and knees, but I was pretty much pinned where I was. The racks had backings, so we couldn't exactly just stand between them and walk out. Ollie tried to pull it, but I could tell that he was struggling with it. Faith tried pushing it with her back, and I with my arms, but we couldn't move it. We just weren't doing anything to it, while Ollie was at least able to move his corner some.

Now was where we started to panic some. We didn't know how we were going to get out of this. Then, we all simultaneously stopped talking when we saw a dark shadow approaching from the opposite end of the standing rack. We were found out, and we were about to be in big trouble. He shined a flashlight at us, all of us too afraid to talk, when the stranger finally spoke. "Looks like you could use some help."

Ollie immediately said that we didn't want any trouble, and said that we would leave when the guy started laughing. He stepped toward us more and shined a light on himself. "Do I look like a cop to you?" He said in a playful tone. He had long gray hair that was tied back, as well as a beard that looked to be equally as long, wearing some old jeans and a denim jacket. He walked towards Ollie and started directing him to push with him.

and with his help, they lifted it enough for both of us to crawl out from under the rack and between them. Once we were out, the man put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it as the three of us stood by and shyly thanked him for his help. He gave us a hard time, all in fun, about how we were the loudest explorers that he'd ever come across. He mentioned how he spotted us shortly after we came in, so that was pretty terrifying to me.

This guy had been following us since we got in, and none of us saw him. I liked to think that I was pretty aware of my surroundings, but that all went down the drain. At any point, this man could have grabbed one of us, and we may have never known. He explained that he had actually been living in the storage basement for the past few months. I didn't even know there was a basement in that building."

He explained that he knew it existed because he used to work there, and he knew the old owner of the place. We sat on the now fallen rack, listening to some of the things that he remembered about this place. He talked about how it started going downhill when the kids began managing it. They wouldn't fix some of the safety issues, and there were more than one accident that happened that could have been avoided if they fixed the highly dangerous issues.

He even explained how someone lost part of their hand due to a safety switch in a saw not functioning. To be honest, some of the things he told us were pretty crazy, and scarier than what happened to us. After talking for some time, we decided that we should probably leave. We thanked him for his help though, not knowing what we would have done if he didn't help us, gave him some of the cash and smokes we had on us, and left through the back door.

The last thing he said to us was "I didn't see you, you didn't see me" and nodded, shutting the door. We made our way back to our car with no one noticing and went back to Ollie's to chill for a bit. The time there started out great. It was nice reminiscing but also seeing it abandoned and quiet was eerie. Then when the rack fell, I was pretty freaked out.

knowing how loud it was that we were going to be found out and arrested, and none of us had ever been arrested. And when we saw this random figure approaching us while we were helpless, there were millions of scenarios running through my mind. But, thankfully, he was just a guy down on his luck, and decided to lend a hand instead of robbing us. Or worse.

We all still like to urbex, but I think I'm a little more paranoid when it comes to checking my surroundings. Because who knows if we'll get that lucky again.

Spoiler alert.

I have always been a pretty reclusive kid growing up.

I'm not much different now as an adult, but still, this event did not help me change. Anyways, because I wasn't outgoing, I often stayed home when my parents would go out. So when they went to a friend's birthday party and I was invited to join them, I declined and decided to stay home and just have the place to myself for a few hours.

I was a 16-year-old boy, and I'd stayed home plenty of times before, so it was no big deal. The evening started fine. I was sitting in the living room, watching TV, probably eating some junk food, when someone knocked on the door. It was odd, because it wasn't like anyone was expected over, and my friends don't ever just show up unannounced. So, I answered.

It was a normal looking guy, maybe in his 30s or so, except he was kind of fidgety and overly curious. I just looked at him and he asked if Alan lived here. I told him no, my name was not Alan, nor was it my dad or brother's name. He stared at me for a few seconds and then apologized, saying he must have the wrong address, and solemnly walked off. I closed the door, thinking it was weird, and just went back to my night.

A few hours later, I started playing a game on the computer in our living room when there was a knock on the door. I was curious as well as annoyed. I answered again and this time it was a different guy but he looked a bit more rough. This time he said, "Hey, let me talk to Alan. What were the odds that two people would ask for the same person at the same house in the same night?" I again told him there was no one here by that name.

and he tried to look past me into our house like he didn't believe me. Now, the guy was much bigger than me, so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little intimidated by him, but I was going to try and stand my ground. So I started closing the door more, limiting his view, and again said that I knew no one by that name, that no one named Alan lived here.

and I tried my best to give a bit of a big and scary face. He smirked and said that if he found out that he was in there, and that I'd lied, that he would come back, and I'll just say that he said he would make me regret it. I just said okay and shut the door, watching him walk away from the window. I didn't like that there were two guys now that showed up and one threatened me, so I called my parents and told them what happened.

They told me they would try to get home soon, but told me to make sure that both doors are locked, and to keep the curtains closed, and also to not answer the door again. So, I hung up and went back to my night. I started getting tired, so I got off the computer and went back to the couch, hoping to fall asleep. By this time, it was dark out. I don't remember the exact time, and I was actually drifting off when I damn near had a heart attack.

Someone was banging very hard and very loudly on the front door, making me jump up. Except this time, the person was shouting that they were the police. They were demanding that I open the door or they were going to force it down. I was terrified and didn't know what to do. My parents had told me not to answer the door for anyone, but it was also the police.

I grabbed the phone and called my parents again, but as I explained to them what had happened, I felt the urgency to open the door. So I did. They immediately ran in, one of them forcing me to the ground, making me drop the phone. Two more went in and started searching the house. The cop that stayed with me helped me up, leaving the phone behind, and led me outside asking me a barrage of questions about who I was, and then put me in the back of his cruiser.

I sat there freaking out. There were cops walking around my home. Why were they there and why did they treat me like I was the bad guy? I was shaking from fear and being cold, as I was in just my pajamas, and it was a colder night down in New Mexico. I just hoped that my parents would be home soon, and that everything would get cleared up. Thankfully, that sort of happened.

I saw my parents show up and my mom started arguing with another cop standing by the car that I was in, demanding that they let her see me. Then the cop that put me in the back came back out and talked to my parents, then let me out. With them standing there, they asked us if we knew someone named Alan. Who the hell was Alan? I explained what happened that night and my parents confirmed my story.

The cops then said that they received a tip about him staying there at our house. He said he was assumed to be armed and dangerous. They asked if anyone came over asking to stay there, and we told them no. But we did have the two people come looking for him. The cops said that was definitely alarming, and said that it could have been a friend that heard something similar, or even worse, someone he owed money to.

They basically said that if they come back, to not answer the door, and to call them immediately. That made me feel really good. I may have come face to face with someone with some very bad intentions. Overall, they obviously let me go, and we all got to go back inside, with minimal destruction having occurred. Mostly, all of the doors and lights were on, and any place a person could hide, they searched.

I was still pretty shaken up, and then I had the fear of answering the door for a while. My parents also didn't like me staying home alone after that. But those guys never came back, and we never ran into the now infamous Alan. However, now when that name does come up, my parents and I have a good laugh. Hello Raven. Thank you for doing such great work. I hope you're having a great start to the year.

I am though, it's March so I'm not sure if it's really the start anymore. I thought about sending you this story but I needed to check my facts with my sister beforehand. This was in the early 90s and I don't remember why my sister and I were home alone. My sister was around 14 years old and I was 11. At this time, we lived in a small town in the Pacific Northwest and we were bored. We decided to take a walk. After leaving a note for my mom, we took off.

Now this town was about 20 houses at most. The only thing it had was a post office. There was an old school that was overgrown but had a basketball hoop that was still standing. We walked past the school and made our way to an old rail crossing. The tracks had been removed but it had not gotten overgrown yet. We followed the old trail deeper into the woods and caught sight of a rock wall that looked easy to climb.

So we decided to climb up and see what we could see. The climb was taller than we thought. It was only about a hundred feet or so, but it was steep. I think it was a hill that the rail company had blasted out of the way. This left a rugged cliff that was pretty sheer. The old drill holes left us a way to climb. They had rough edges that we could grab. This made the climb seem easier than it really was.

As we were going up, my sister had knocked a rock loose that hit me in my face and knocked my glasses off. I had wanted to stop then, to at least get my glasses, but my sister just said that we would get them on the way back. At the top of the hill, we realized that it was the edge of a plateau, I guess. It was a flat spot that had been cleared by logging. It's hard to explain. From below, it looked like a small hill and that we would get a good look of the valley.

Instead, it was a foothill of a small mountain range, this flat spot leading to mountains in the distance. There were no trees left standing. All the trunks were grayed and decaying. The undergrowth had run rampant. Vines tried to catch your feet. Old sticks covered holes in the ground. It would have been so easy to turn an ankle or break a leg. We wandered for a while and noticed it was getting dark. We needed to get home.

I think we were already late. Our mom was going to be worried. We hadn't marked our trails, so it took some time to find our way back to where we came up. Looking around was hard for me. Without my glasses, anything outside of three feet was blurry. When we made it back, I was trying to find a place to climb down or at least where we climbed up. When we couldn't figure it out, my sister suggested jumping.

Without my glasses, I couldn't tell if it was a really long way down or not. But I was not going to jump. We stood there and argued for a time. I finally told her, "Jump if you want. I'm gonna find a house and ask to use the phone." I started to walk away, afraid that my sister was going to jump. She was headstrong like that. But she followed. I had a hard time in the dark. Neither of us thought to bring flashlights.

Eventually, we found a house with lights on. Apparently, either people went to bed early around here, or it was mostly vacation homes. I was almost ready to try to break into a house, just to use the phone. My sister took the lead and knocked on the door. A nice woman answered the door. She wouldn't let us inside because her daughter was sick with a fever and she didn't want to pass it on to us. So she brought out her phone.

She even wiped it with alcohol before handing it over. My sister left a message for my mom, she was out looking for us, and handed the phone back. The woman asked if we were able to get a hold of our mom, and my sister said no. The lady asked us what we wanted to do, and I said, ''If you can point us to our town, we'll start walking.'' I didn't think we could be that far from home since we walked here.

When I told her what town we were from, she was shocked. Apparently going over the cliff and through the flat rise took us about 25 minutes from our town by car. The road back had to go around the rise and then double back to get to our house. When we said that we would start walking, she objected. She went back inside real quick and checked on her child, and she then told us that she would drive us home.

The lady was so nice. She left her sick kid at home to drive us lost kids home. When we got home, our car wasn't in the driveway. But not five seconds after, our mom pulled up. Mom was so happy to see us. Apparently she'd been out driving the route we said we were going to use in our note. From what she said, she'd been driving on the shoulder at like five miles an hour trying to find us.

Not only that, but our little lapdog Holly, who was the size of a cat, was sniffing the air and barking like she smelled us. My mom would stop the car and get out to let Holly try and find us. She'd been coming back every so often to check the phone or see if we made it home. So, when we were standing in the driveway, she rushed to hug us. After exchanging some words with the lady and profusely thanking her, mom let the lady leave.

The next day, we went to look for my glasses, because we couldn't afford to buy new ones. When my sister saw the cliff and how high it was, she looked at me and said, "I'm glad you talked me out of jumping." When my mom heard this, she looked mortified. "You thought about jumping down? That's like a hundred feet." In reality, it was only about half that, still enough to seriously damage or kill us.

At the base of the cliff, we found my glasses, too. They only had a small scuff on the metal where the rock had hit them. Anyway, thank you for reading this, Raven, and I'm a huge fan of your work. When I was 28, I was looking for a new place to live. I wasn't too happy with the apartment I was in anymore, and I wanted to find something with a bit more room, but still a reasonable price. I was paying too much for a one-bedroom apartment.

So, when I found a duplex with two bedrooms and a full basement for nearly the same price, I was pretty thrilled. It was in a nicer neighborhood, and was pretty close to my work, which was a real winner for me. I moved in quickly and settled in even faster. I'd like to think that I'm a pretty outgoing person, so I became curious when I hadn't seen my neighbor once while I was moving in.

Until one day I saw a middle-aged woman leaving the other duplex. She was in a suit skirt with a jacket. Obviously dressed for a nice office job, so I assumed she was probably just really busy and kept to herself. But the times that I started noticing her were pretty sporadic. It was only maybe two or three times a week, and sometimes I would see her arriving and other times leaving.

One of those times, I was just coming home myself as she was leaving. We made eye contact, so I stopped to say hi and to introduce myself. She was very nice, and she told me her name was Teresa, but she actually didn't live there. Her 80-year-old dad, Carol, did. She said she came to visit him a few times a week. She would get his groceries, take him to doctor's appointments, things like that.

She also mentioned that he didn't get out much, so I probably wouldn't see him much, but that he would probably talk my ear off if I did see him. After talking for a little bit, she left and I went about my business. From then, I would occasionally see him when he got his mail or left with Teresa to go wherever. When we were outside at the same time, he would talk to me about pretty much anything on his mind. He was definitely a kind old man.

and the fact that he pretty much kept to himself made me think he was going to continue to be a pretty great neighbor. This was a few months into me living there at this point. I came home from work and saw Carol sitting out in the chair on his side of the patio in just his cargo shorts. He had a magazine that was rolled up, and he appeared to be swatting the air in an annoying manner. I approached him, and his face softened, and he jokingly said, "'Oh, how was work, dear?'

That was just who he was, and I didn't mind. We talked for a moment when he brought up how much he hated mosquitoes. I suggested bug spray and the little citronella candles. As we talked, I mentioned how I used to have the tiki torches on my apartment balcony so I could sit out there and not be bothered. He thanked me, and said that he would remind Teresa to pick some up when she went shopping for him next, and then we said goodbye.

A few days later, I saw him outside again and watched from my window as this man sprayed himself all over with the bug spray. He sprayed his legs, his arms, his torso, and even above him like he was misting himself. It definitely looked strange to me, but then I thought maybe there was something about the bugs. Like a phobia. Or maybe he had a fear of being bitten.

or maybe they were just really that much of an annoyance to him. It really wasn't my place to judge, so I left it alone as life continued on as normal. But it was the following night that I sat in my living room, eating my dinner, when I started smelling something funny. It was a strong chemical smell, but I couldn't quite tell what it was. I was worried that something may have caught on fire and started walking around my unit.

My cat had been sitting next to me, so I knew that she didn't get into anything. I checked all the sockets, anything electrical that I could think of, including the heat lamp on my iguana's cage. But everything seemed fine. But the smell still worried me. Was it in my head? Was there something wrong with me by chance? I decided to walk out front to get some fresh air and see if maybe I could still smell it out there.

The answer was yes, I could definitely smell it, but I had also figured out what the source of the smell was. It was Carol, once again spraying himself with the same bug spray, and I could now place that scent. We immediately started talking because he heard me open my door, of course. He claimed the bugs were getting worse, and were now getting inside his home.

He talked about how he couldn't stand it, so he sprayed all the vents, the doorways, even his air filter. He doused it with the stuff. I tried to get a better explanation at that point, wondering if he was still talking about mosquitoes, or something else. All he could tell me was that they were bugs, and that they were everywhere. I told him to be careful with the spray, trying not to sound mean and said that it could be harmful to ingest.

and that maybe we should contact the rental office so that they can treat for them instead. He said that was probably a good idea, and I went back inside, opening some windows to air out my side of the place. I made a mental note to myself to let Teresa know the next time I saw her to do the same, and to not buy him more bug spray.

I was able to let her know, but she said that she had only bought him the one can, and assumed that he probably ordered more online, as he did do that sometimes. Again, it wasn't my place to tell her what to do, but the amount that he was using was almost disturbing, and to practically drench yourself in it was not good either.

I saw my share of mosquitoes out there, but he made it seem like there was a swarm of them all over him at all times. And I can assure you that that was not happening. I just told her what I saw and that I was concerned with him spraying it so much. And she said that she would talk to him about it, and that was that. Unfortunately, the bug spray wasn't even the worst of it. While I was in bed, going in and out of sleep, I had become pretty hot.

and was almost irritable with how hot it was. I sat up in bed wondering if there was something wrong with the AC, and no sooner than when I got out of bed, the smoke alarms started going off. I panicked and ran out of my room to see flames from the living room window, and tons of dark smoke coming in from the vents. I grabbed my cat and my iguana, scaring them both I'm sure, and ran through the back door, running to the front yard.

I had a button latch on my hatchback so I was able to open it and put them both in there. Thankfully they both get along too. I had to put them up before I actually approached the cause of the flames because it was coming from Carol. He was holding one of those tiki torches against the wall and was watching it as it slowly caught fire. I screamed at him, "What the hell are you doing?" but when he turned around, that was a face I had never seen before.

He looked so angry and his eyes were so wide. They looked like they were going to pop out. He said that he finally figured out a way to get rid of the damn bugs. He said that he made a fire on all of his vents, which also meant that our shared wall was on fire and was now torching the outside. I was so afraid to approach him, being a small woman, but I did, and he surprisingly handed the torch over to me.

but he continued to talk about what he had done, like it was some hobby or other harmless project that he was working on. I had my phone on me, and I had grabbed it as I was rounding up the pets, so I finally called 911 once I had my bearings. The whole time, Carol was just continuing to talk in the background. The firemen arrived quickly and put out the fire, and we both talked to the police about what had happened.

Thankfully, Carol did have Teresa's number memorized, so we called her and she was there pretty fast too. It was the only time that I ever saw her not dressed up. That was an awful moment right there, and I think it really opened Teresa's eyes about what was happening. "'What did you do, Dad?' She was pleading with him as he continued to talk about the bugs. It was terrifying, but I also felt so bad about the whole thing.'

I felt like it was my fault. I shouldn't have brought up the spray or the torches or any of it. Once the smoke cleared, literally, they were able to go inside to assess the damage. Most of it was on our shared wall, and the outside wall of course, and there were some burn spots on the carpet on Carol's side. I had to move a lot of stuff out of my living room so that they could come in and repair it,

but otherwise, it was still a good sturdy building. I didn't see Carol much after that. Teresa had come by and got some of his stuff, but she told me that he was going to be living with her for the time being, and said that she should have done that a lot sooner, joking that she would have saved gas anyways. I wished her well, and once all of his stuff was out, that was the last that I saw of them,

After some repairs on the other side, I finally got some new neighbors. It was a younger lady with a baby, and so far they haven't been too bad. I still live there, so Carol lives rent-free in my mind. Sometimes I will randomly smell something funny, or I'll hear the neighbor's smoke alarm go off, and it sets me into a panic. We've talked plenty of times, and she's mentioned how it goes off when she's cooking, so I know everything is okay.

but my heart rate still jumps a bit when it happens. I do hope that Carol is doing better now, but since the fire was so close to home, it has kind of become a pretty big fear of mine. The company that I work for used to have these extravagant parties for the anniversary of the company,

It was started up by two siblings, and they still owned it, so... Every year they had a party that everyone was invited to, and it was always a blast. It was really cool intermingling with the higher-ups, the VPs, and the chief officers. They always seemed pretty down-to-earth, and it really was a great morale booster. They stopped doing the parties in 2020, and instead sent everyone gift baskets, which was still fun.

Last year was actually our first one since they stopped them, so I think if not everyone, then a majority were actually looking forward to it. I was included in that group. The party was being hosted at a pretty swanky hotel. They had a full-blown dining area, a large entertainment stage, and the pool was open to us.

I know the dining area was reserved for us, but people staying at the hotel were also using the pool. Which was fine, of course. I, for one, wasn't interested in swimming. I drove downtown to the hotel, getting there early to avoid traffic. I walked around the dining area, taking everything in and greeting others as they arrived.

I did a lot of work directly with my boss's boss, who was a vice president, so even though I was a few levels below them, I knew several of them pretty well. It was still a bit nerve-wracking talking to some of them, but it was also pretty cool that they knew me by name. As more people arrived, the party became more alive. Many people drinking, some brought their kids and were playing at the pool.

I spotted a few coworkers that I spoke to for a while, but then eventually I found myself gravitating towards Tessa, the vice president that I knew and worked with. Tessa is a fantastic person. She had a wicked sense of humor, but also a no-nonsense attitude that I really admired. She was very professional and worked hard to get where she was, but she was also very approachable for anything you had concerns about.

She has absolutely been a role model for me, as a fellow female trying to make it up the corporate ladder. There was a small gathering of us as we all talked, shared war stories of our dealings with other departments and silly requirements, and just let loose for the night. At one point, Tessa stood up to refill her drink when someone who worked at the hotel approached our group. She said that she was looking for someone named Tessa, and she confirmed that was her.

The hotel employee mentioned someone was looking for her, so she told us that she would be right back, and walked away with her while the rest of us continued our conversation. We talked for some time, we watched one of the entertainers who did magic tricks, and our group slowly dispersed and moved on with the other parts of the party. That's why it had been a few hours before I realized that I hadn't seen Tessa come back.

It was a thought that crossed my mind, but she was an important and popular person, so I figured she was just being pulled in different directions. I hoped that I would see her one more time before the end of the party, but if not, I would see her the following Monday. But then I had a few people ask me where she went.

I was confused when one of the other VPs asked me where she went because she last saw her over with us, and we all said the same thing. She walked away to see someone looking for her, and that was it. The party was winding down, and still, Tessa was nowhere to be found. We thought it was odd because she was an outgoing person, so it was hard to believe she would just hide away somewhere or leave without saying anything to anyone.

She had a pretty young child that she didn't bring to the party, so it was possible that she left in an emergency without time to tell anyone. I had her number, as well as many others, but I felt it was out of place for me to ask her where she went, so I just texted her saying it was good to see her at the party. Others tried calling her, and one of them said that she didn't answer.

Again, a family emergency was possible, but Tessa always found a way to respond to people. She always put others first, so it was odd. That is when I started getting this bad feeling. Most of the people were gone, and normally I would have left too, but the disappearance of Tessa was really digging at me. So, I asked Raymond, one of the other VPs, if he had heard from her, and he said that he hadn't.

and asked when I last saw her. I explained how someone was looking for her and an employee approached us, and I gave a description of what the employee looked like. He walked away and I stayed behind to see if anything would come of it. I saw Ray talking to someone at the front desk, and then the employee that approached Tessa came out and talked to Ray, and together they walked off.

I ended up starting a conversation with someone else that was still there, when we started hearing sirens getting louder and louder, until they just stopped. We watched as the lights glowed through the front glass door and the EMTs walked in pushing a stretcher. My stomach dropped. They were here for someone and the odds of them being for someone from our party were pretty high. And with Tessa missing, I just had this horrible feeling.

I watched and waited as they rolled to one of the open offices down one hallway. The hotel had two large rooms to the left, with a long table and whiteboard that could be used by guests to hold conferences and meetings. So what were they doing back there? Why would anyone be in there this late? Then they rolled the stretcher back out with Tessa lying on it.

She had blood on her head, arms and hands. Her hair was a mess, but her eyes fluttered which at least told me that she was still alive. But what the hell had happened to her? Did someone do this? And if so, why? I just couldn't see Tessa having any enemies. I tried to find someone to ask, but Ray actually followed the EMTs out, and I was stopped by a police officer.

I couldn't ask any questions because I was being questioned. I had to tell them everything that happened that night. I had to try and remember everything Tessa said to us. Where she went, when I last saw her. I was finally able to leave at around 1:00 AM. By the time I got home, I was exhausted but I couldn't sleep. I wanted to know what had happened to Tessa. News spread fast though, and a friend from work texted me about what had happened.

Someone had stabbed Tessa, and she was found in that office, on the ground, bleeding. Once we got back to work, the atmosphere was tense and awkward. Then we got the emails about security concerns, and the whole "see something, say something" posts everywhere. So, what really happened? After a few weeks, it finally made its rounds.

There was a girl that worked in project management that had been fired about a month before the party. She'd been fired because she was abusing the company credit card, using it as her own personal funds. And when they found out, she claimed it was fraud. That all ended up coming back to bite her because the bank had proof that she'd made the purchases, and she was fired. The woman was under Tessa's group, so Tessa and the woman's direct manager were there when she was fired.

She knew about the party because they have to get a headcount a few months in advance, and somehow managed to get in, claiming to be part of the party. Or maybe she claimed that she was a customer staying there. She was the one that was looking for Tessa, and asked an employee to bring her back to the room. No one is 100% sure after that what her true intentions were,

Tessa was stabbed with a fork multiple times. She probably got it from the party. I know that she was charged and did go to prison for it, but that's about all I know about what had happened. Tessa never outwardly spoke about it, and I never asked for more details. As I learned about all this, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I know that no one could have known where she was going, but what if I had asked the same employee where she went earlier?

What if I told someone else earlier? Could it have been avoided? And even worse, I hate to wonder what could have happened if I just went home and didn't mention this to anyone at all. How long would it have been before she was found? Like I said, Tessa is such a genuine person. She didn't deserve this. But I'm sure it had to be hard firing someone. So, to have that psycho do that to her was just hard to believe.

I still work for the same company, and Tessa still works there too. I actually got a promotion, and now I work even closer with her. Thankfully, she is still the same person she's always been too. I'm happy that the experience didn't change her. Everyone is more cautious as to events like parties or when there are visitors in the building to make sure that nothing like this happens again.

The anniversary party will be in August this year, and this time I will definitely be more vigilant. Back whenever I was in college, I had a phase where I was very heavily into gaming. I was kind of your stereotypical MMORPG nerd, and if I wasn't in class or studying, I was online and playing with my crew.

I'm not gonna lie, I made more friends playing that dumb game than I ever did trying to socialize with my classmates. The people online were more accepting, and were more willing to accept me into their circle even though I was a bit different. It's not fully relevant to the story, but I've always had an issue with self-identity, and obviously those years were a time for development.

So, it was a bit rough as I was trying to find myself. Thankfully, I had my crew, and I will always be grateful for most of them. Note the word "most." There was one guy who, for the sake of the story, we're going to call "Gains." That was part of his username, and that's what we all referred to him as when we were in the crew, so it's a valid way to identify him. Gains seemed like an okay dude.

from what I knew at first. He was funny, he always had a quip ready or a joke to throw out there, and he knew pretty much everything about the game. He and I became pretty decent friends, often teaming up when no one else was online and just chatting about random stuff. He was also in college, so we did have some common ground, and I think that helped quite a bit.

It was a fun time, but after a little while, Gaines started getting a bit weird. He started messaging me out of our gaming sessions, which was kind of this unspoken rule amongst the crew. For whatever reason, we all had this understanding that we only talked to each other in-game, or about the game, and we never tried to get personal with each other beyond just being friends."

It was probably an anxiety thing all around, to be honest, but it was what it was. At first, his messages were just friendly banter. He would send me an email about how much he hated the class he was in, how his professor was an a-hole or whatever. Nothing too far out there. I would respond with something short like, Oh, damn man, that sucks. I know how that feels. Just basic responses like that.

Then, after a couple days of him messaging me on the side, he pushed further and started asking personal questions, like where I lived, questions about my family, if I was dating anybody, if I had any younger siblings, which, while unrelated, probably should have been a red flag, and random things about my daily routine.

I figured that he was just curious, and probably just as awkward as I was, so maybe he didn't know how to start a proper conversation. I didn't really answer most of the questions that he asked. I mentioned that I wasn't super comfortable telling him about my personal life, and he seemed to agree and understand, saying that he didn't mean to make me feel uncomfortable.

Then, out of nowhere, I got another message from him that turned up the creep factor. He mentioned that he found out the two of us, apparently, lived in the same state, and he said that we were practically neighbors. I never told him where I lived. I never mentioned what region of the country I lived in, so this revelation was a bit jarring.

He started to insist that we meet up, saying, Since we get along so well, it'd be stupid for us to not hang out IRL. I mentioned that I would think about it, but that I was super busy with college, and I didn't have much time for a social life. To which he responded, But you have time for the game? I hated that he had a point with that, because he knew when I was in the game, and he knew that it was pretty frequent.

mostly because he was also always in the game with all of us. I mentioned that the game was my way of relaxing, and that I wasn't a very social person, and Gaines said, "Let's just meet up once, and we can see how we like it." I genuinely did not want to meet up with him, but he kept pushing it and pushing it, and I didn't want to pick a fight with someone that was friends with everyone else that I considered a friend.

So, I agreed to meet up at a small restaurant on the edge of town, something public and where a lot of people would be just in case. The next day, I got an email from someone else from the crew that asked if Gaines and I were dating. It was a bit weird, but I mentioned no, that I wasn't interested in him, as he wasn't my target demographic, if you get my drift, and then asked why.

He then forwarded an email that he had apparently sent to everyone in the crew, except for me, that said he and I were meeting up for the first time after having been in love in an online relationship for months. I was so confused. I told him that we'd been talking for a couple of weeks through email, that he had contacted me, and that he had been pushy about meeting up, and that it was nothing like that.

He then told me that I needed to make sure that Gaines knew that, because he apparently had a very different idea of what we were. I was pretty fed up with it at this point. He had made me feel so awkward, and he was so pushy about meeting up, and I had given in because I thought it would be harmless, and I didn't want to make it awkward with our crew. And then he went and made it awkward in his own way.

I went ahead and started a message to everyone else, including Gaines, and I made sure to put in the message that he and I were not together, that he was mistaken about our meeting up, and that it was going to be nothing more than as friends. I reiterated what everyone in the group should have known, that I was swinging for the other team, and that I was not interested in him at all like that.

Apparently this was the wrong thing to do, and he did not take it very well. About ten minutes after I sent the email, I got a phone call from a blocked number on my cell phone. At first, I ignored it, and then I got another one, so I went ahead and answered it. As soon as I did, the person on the other end, who I learned was Gaines, started screaming at me about how I had ruined his life.

Worse yet, as he finished his rant, he ended it by saying, "If I ever see you, Elizabeth Mary, you are dead." So he threatened my life and used my first and middle names, which told me he knew who I was, which was terrifying. I had never given him any information about me like that. He knew me by my username. My email wasn't even registered with my real name.

It was my character's pseudonym. And then there's the fact that he was able to get my phone number to call me. I have no idea how this person knew so much about me, but he knew where I lived, my name, my number, but it was pretty clear that this was a dangerous individual. I did file a report with the police, since he was threatening me, but I didn't have much information beyond his email and username and that he lived kind of close to the area.

The person I was talking to wasn't exactly a tech person, so it was a struggle to explain that I knew him from a video game. But the report was made, and, well, that was it. There was some more banter in the group email about the whole thing, and I mentioned to one of the friends that had reached out to me that Gaines had somehow found all of my personal information.

He was nice about it, gave me some tips on things to check and lock down on my social medias, none of which was connected to my game account or email, and I went through what he said. But honestly, there was nothing indicative of how he found me. After a while, I just kind of stopped playing the game. I was nervous that I would run into gains, or that the crew would treat me differently, because of all of this.

So I stopped playing as much, and eventually I just quit altogether. I do keep in touch with two of the people that were in the group, and it's been a few years, and from what they've told me, after Gaines pulled this, the group sort of dissipated. I also found out that I wasn't the only person in the crew that he had started messaging, and he managed to find all of her personal information as well, and that he apparently threatened her when she rejected him.

In the end, I am grateful that nothing really happened, that he and I never ran into each other, and that he just left me alone after all of this, but it was still pretty damn creepy. He had way too much information on me, and I don't know how he found it, but he did. I feel like he could have done much worse, so I guess I'm thankful that he had some restraint in the matter,

And nowadays, I only play single player games or games without comms. I don't want anything like this to ever happen to me again. I want to start this story by saying that I'm a bit of a broody person. It's just who I've always been. I've always been a bit more comfortable in the night when the world is silent and everyone else is asleep. I like to enjoy the time to myself.

I also struggle with self-image and anxiety, so in order to keep myself active and healthy, I like to go for walks when it's pitch black outside, especially on nights where I'm struggling to sleep. On this particular night, I was feeling rather restless, and I decided that I would go out for a quick walk around the block. I grabbed my jacket, my headphones, and my flashlight and headed out into a rather lovely night.

As anticipated, there was nobody else outside, minus the occasional car that would drive by every here and there. And it was a bit windy, so the leaves were blowing about, which made it that kind of magical night that I was hoping for. I was about 15 minutes into my walk when I was hit with this intense feeling that I needed to pause. It was a bit of a strange sensation.

but I seriously felt like I just needed to stop for a moment. When I did, I noticed that one of the streetlights ahead of me was starting to flicker. I wasn't sure if it was flickering prior to me noticing it, but it was definitely flickering at the moment that I noticed it. After staring at it for a couple of seconds, I heard what sounded like a person saying, "'Hey,' from a bit of a distance."

I was confused because I had my earphones in and if there was someone that had said something from the distance it sounded like they were, I shouldn't have been able to hear them. I immediately took my earphones out and looked around, trying to see if I could see someone nearby that was calling out. When I turned back toward the streetlight that was flickering, it made a popping noise and completely went out, which made me jump.

I wasn't sure what to do, but thought that I should just keep going, right? It was just a light. Surely that was just really good timing on my part to be looking at it when it went out. I took a single step forward toward where the light was and once again froze. A voice called out again with, ''Hey, come here.'' My first instinct was to turn around and take off back home.

But then my curiosity started to get the best of me. I know, stupid, but at the same time, this was too freaky to just turn away from and ignore. I grabbed my flashlight and turned it on and then slowly lifted it towards the darkness where the dead streetlight was. Much to my relief, there was nothing there. I actually chuckled to myself thinking that I was just losing it and that I needed to get home and sleep. Just as I was about to turn off the flashlight and continue on,

My eyes caught a glimpse of motion on the edge of the light, which shifted me from my relief back to terror. I watched as what looked like a shadow quickly darted away from my flashlight and over toward the wooded edge of the street. I tried to follow it, quickly shining to the left, but I couldn't see anything. My heart skipped a beat as I stood there and just watched the tree line for what felt like several awkward moments.

I just held the light, pointing it at the trees and waiting for something to happen. Unfortunately, something did. I saw what, again, looked like a shadow, leaning slightly out from behind one of the trees. I was pointing my light directly at this thing, and yet it was still completely dark. As it leaned out, I once again heard that voice whisper, Hey, come here, please, come here.

For a single fleeting second, I actually considered going towards it, but then my brain kicked back in and I realized that that would be the dumbest thing I could possibly do. I had no idea what the hell this thing was. I had no idea what its intentions were, and I was pretty much defenseless. Once that thought occurred to me, I felt that wave of terror wash over me. My legs felt like jelly, but I knew that I needed to get out of there.

I started to turn to head back home, but was interrupted by what really triggered my flight response. That voice once again whispered at me, but this time, it said, "I won't hurt you." Nothing that says "I won't hurt you" in the way that it did actually means it. I immediately turned and took off at a full sprint. I have never in my life run that fast or for that long, but I made record time getting back to my front door.

I fumbled with my keys, jumped in, unlocked the door, and then paused as I caught my breath and tried to slow my heart down. After a few moments of just standing against my front door in silence, I decided that I would go to bed. And thankfully, that was the entire experience. The rest of the night was uneventful, and I haven't gone on a night walk down that road since.

I thought about going back to see if I could find this thing again, but it kind of occurred to me that if I was that scared that night, there was a reason. It wasn't just because it was weird. It was instinctual. So I've decided that whatever that thing was, someone else out there can take the credit for finding it. While I was attending an out-of-state university, I lived in one of their dorm rooms.

It was cheaper than trying to find an apartment or roommate that I could get along with, so I went with living in a dorm with someone hopefully I could tolerate. That worked out well enough when I was roomed with this guy that I'll call Mark. Mark was an alright guy. We weren't best friends. In fact, we had some pretty major differences, but we could agree to disagree and tolerated each other well enough.

Sometimes we would talk, waiting for the time to pass. We'd pick up something from the gas station, or food for each other, so I guess we did alright. But Mark also seemed to keep some things to himself, which was understandable. We all want some kind of privacy, right? Mark had a small safe that he kept under his bed. I'd watched him pull it out at times and open it with a key.

It was one of those heavy fireproof safes, but probably one of the smallest ones I'd ever seen. I guess it did need to be small enough to hide in a dorm room. Like I said, he kept it under his bed. He always seemed to hover over it or shield it when I was in the room, pretty obviously not wanting me to see what was in it. So I just tried to be as respectful and look away or turn around, like that was my intention all along.

So, he felt like I wasn't being nosy. I absolutely was, but I wasn't going to act on anything. I assumed he probably just kept money or maybe jewelry in it or something like that. Judging by the way that he dressed and the things that belonged to him in the room, I assumed that his family was pretty well off. But then Mark's demeanor began to change.

He was rarely home, and when he was, he didn't stay long. I liked to go to this local pizza and wing place on Tuesdays, and we would both chip in. But two weeks in a row, he said he didn't want any. Fine, sometimes you get burned out on things, but it was this situation that made me raise an eyebrow. The first time I asked him, he looked like he wanted to say yes, but kept looking at his watch, almost contemplating the time.

He didn't normally have anything to do on Tuesday nights. No classes. And I know that he didn't have a job, which was another reason I assumed he was being supported by his parents or guardians. I suppose he could have just had something to do that night, but he didn't look... normal, I guess. Like, when you're normally trying to decide if you have the time to do something...

Or trying to calculate how long this or that might take, you know? He looked more like he was nervous. Like he had an important deadline somewhere else. But was really torn about leaving. It's hard to explain. I just told him it was no big deal. That I would still get what he wanted that time, and he said thanks as he was rushing out the door. Weird, but no big deal. But the next week, he looked even more flustered.

He didn't even seem to realize what day it was. But when it finally clicked, he declined and quickly left. Both times he was carrying his duffel bags, so I assumed he probably started doing something better with his time instead of eating greasy pizza. So I let it go, sometimes inviting another buddy over to split the cost. But then there were other, more suspicious events that occurred involving Mark.

When he was trying to get into his safe, he would ask me to leave the room. At first I looked at him confused, but he seemed suspicious. Maybe even paranoid. It nearly became a full-blown argument, but I was fed up and just left. Several times it could be sitting at my desk doing work. He would clear his throat, and even though I had no idea what he was even doing, I would have to go into the bathroom, or leave the dorm room.

Quite frankly, it was pretty annoying. But again, I lived with it until he started getting way too possessive over anything on his desk or his duffel bag. He kept a padlock on his duffel bag. I assumed he just had his gym stuff in it. What the hell could be in it that was worth locking up? One day, I had come back from class and as I was entering the door, Mark was at his desk. He quickly shoved whatever he was writing into his drawer.

I remember rolling my eyes, annoyed that he was all of the sudden so secretive and paranoid. I actually confronted him about it, and it turned into a small argument. I just remember him looking at me with his eyes glossy and wide as he slowly shook his head. "You have no idea who I am. You know nothing about me. I would suggest that you stay in your lane, man." I scoffed and asked if that was a threat.

And he said, "No. Well, at least not one from me." I ended up leaving again to cool off, not wanting to deal with him. I just let what he said roll off and ignored it. Mark was a pretty small guy. I definitely wasn't afraid of him, but I also didn't want to be involved in whatever he was doing. Something that was common at the uni that I went to was the illegal sales of a certain RX that's supposed to help you focus.

I assumed that he was getting involved with that. I wasn't going to say anything. It was a known problem, and staff and security were already looking into it, so I found no point in it. But I was not going to be treated like I was the problem, so I did ask about changing dorms. Unfortunately, they were full, so they just put me on a waitlist. I figured that I would just grin and bear it.

But things escalated over something pretty innocent. There was an odor in our room that seemed to come out of nowhere. I thought maybe something went bad in the mini-fridge, so I cleaned it out. But the smell still lingered. For days, the smell stayed in our room. I opened the windows. I went and bought a few air fresheners, and when those didn't work, I cleaned the whole room. I threw a lot out.

I smelled all the bed sheets and blankets, but even though they didn't have the smell, I threw them in the trash bag and put them out in the hall, planning on taking them to the laundromat. One of the last things that I did was clean under the beds. If there's one thing my mom taught me, she was a housekeeper and a nanny, it was to clean from the top down, so it was last on my list. I pulled a few things out from under my bed first, none of which were causing the smell.

Then I hesitated when I went to Mark's bed. I knew that he at least kept his safe under there, and I feared if I started cleaning under it, he would show up and another fight would ensue. So I tried to see how much time I may have. I texted Mark asking him if he was coming back right after class, and if so, if he could pick up some orange juice on his way back, explaining that I had to toss the one that we had, which wasn't a lie.

He agreed to do so, which told me that I had a few hours before he would be home, and I decided to go for it. I lifted his mattress, and the smell seemed to get stronger. I saw a few wrappers, a paper plate with something small stuck to it, but it was also not the source of the smell. However, I did lock on to that notorious duffel bag. I didn't realize it was under his bed.

I thought Mark kept it on him with how paranoid he had become, but I guess if it contained what I thought it did, he probably didn't want to carry it out and risk being caught. But at that point, curiosity was taking over, and I wanted to know what the hell was in that bag. Why did Mark all of a sudden change? Why was he so secretive? And what was in that bag, and his safe? The only problem was that the lock was still on the bag.

It locked the two zippers together, so after looking at it for a few seconds, I figured I could probably pull them apart about an inch, and maybe finagle it enough to pull the zipper between the two, and shine my phone light into it to see what it was. I grabbed my phone and crouched down, reaching for the zipper, when my phone went off. I was getting a call from an unknown number. Not that it was a number I didn't have saved,

But the number was unknown. Blocked. Anonymous. However you want to look at that. I wouldn't normally answer those, but in the situation I was in, it seemed too convenient. So I answered it. The voice was low and gruff. Leave it alone. It's none of your concern. He told you that, didn't he? Then the line went dead. I had no idea who that was. Couldn't recall the voice at all, but...

That was the least of my concerns. My bigger problem was, was he referring to me messing with the bag? And if so, how the hell would they have known what I was doing? We did have a window, or two, actually, but they were higher up and wider, because they were above our beds and close to the ceiling. The floor that we were on was kind of underground, so our windows were practically near the ground.

Think, like, basement windows. So the only way someone would have been able to see me from the window would be to have been squatting or laying down by the window. No one was around the windows. And I also would have seen them or heard them approach. This was in the fall, so I would have heard the crunch of the leaves as they walked by the window. I immediately threw the mattress back down, leaving everything where it was. The plate and the wrapper, too.

I sat on my bed thinking about what just happened, and I looked around the room. That's when I noticed that Mark's laptop was still sitting on his desk, open. The screen was dark, but I noticed that his webcam was open and that the light was orange. I had the same model of laptop, and I knew that the light being orange meant that it was on. If I wasn't on edge before, I definitely was now.

Was I being watched? And by whom? Surely, if Mark was watching and saw that I was under his bed, he would have just called or texted me, right? But that was definitely not Mark's voice. All I knew was that I did not want to be any more involved than I already was, so I left. Like the disembodied voice said, it's none of my concern, and I'm leaving it that way.

I brought Mark's bedding back in and put it back on his bed to make it look like nothing was out of place. Then I packed a small bag of clothes and some necessities, grabbed my bedding outside, and I left. I called a friend from the laundromat and asked if I could crash on their couch for a few nights, because I sure as hell was not comfortable staying in my dorm anymore, and they agreed to let me. Once I got to his place, I explained what had happened.

and he thought that it sounded a lot worse than just some pill sales. He suggested that he may have even been involved in some kind of dark web stuff, especially since the webcam may have been on and watching. He told me that I should really consider telling someone about it for Mark's safety, and reluctantly, I finally agreed. I called security anonymously, and my friend did the talking. That way they wouldn't recognize my voice.

He didn't go to the same school that I was in, and he told them about a bad smell coming from a specific room, and mentioned seeing someone matching Mark's description with a suspicious bag. They said they would look into it, and that was the end of it. I stayed with my friends for a few nights before trying to go back to the dorm. I did get a call while I was there, however, asking me if I had seen Mark, and if he had been acting strange.

I confirmed that he had been, but said that I had no idea why. But I did mention the smell. They said they didn't smell anything, so I went back to the room that night. To my surprise, the smell was gone. Along with most of Mark's stuff. His computer was gone. The safe and bag under his bed were also gone. There was a jacket in the closet and a basket with some random clothing in it that he left, but that was it.

After seeing this, they asked if he had mentioned anything about leaving and I said no. They thanked me for my time and then left. After everything, the room felt way too eerie so I went back to my friend's house, unwilling to stay there. I don't know if it was worse when his stuff was there or after it was empty, but to make things worse, to add to everything that's already happened...

I was stopped by campus security and a cop as I left one of my classes. They started asking me questions about Mark once again because not only did it look like he moved out of his dorm, but he had also missed a few classes. That's when I finally told them everything that I witnessed. I know, call me a coward for not telling anyone sooner, but since he was still around, I didn't think it was any of my business to say anything. I also didn't want to be looked at as a suspect.

But now that he seemed to be missing, I knew that I needed to buck up. They thanked me for my time, and that was the end of it. I kept the dorm as a way to store my stuff, since I had to pay for it anyways, but I could not sleep there, or stay there longer than a few hours. It freaked me out too much. I never heard from or about Mark again after that, and I have no idea where he is.

I hope wherever he went, it wasn't because of the shady stuff happening. But it's hard to imagine that he just got up and walked away from it all. In the end, I honestly just hope that he's okay. Hey Fidelity, how can I remember to invest every month? With the Fidelity app, you can choose a schedule and set up recurring investments in stocks and ETFs.

So this happened to me many years ago. Throughout most of my middle school and my high school years, I had this best friend that I will call Kendra.

Kendra and I were pretty inseparable. We did everything together. We were typically at each other's houses, talking on the phone, chatting on Facebook, always something. As graduation got closer, we started making our life plans, and we knew that we wanted to get a place together. It didn't take us long to find a place and get approved for it.

I was going to be attending the university in the next state over, and the drive from our place was only going to be about a 45 minute drive. Which wasn't bad. I had actually worked on a project, it was more like a contest I feel, but for whatever legal reason they didn't call it a contest, where I won a scholarship to this university.

They had a great program that was in the field that I wanted to major, so there was no way that I was passing up the opportunity. Kendra was going to be attending the local community college, which was only about 20 minutes from our place, so even closer for her. She said that she was just going to start there because she still wasn't quite sure what she wanted to major in. We even both worked at the high-end department store, but at different locations.

When we got our place together, she transferred to the store that I worked at because she claimed that she had some issues with someone she was working with. It was such a great time in the beginning. It was like we were still in school. Sometimes we rode to work together, we would go grocery shopping together, or even just hang out at home talking, joking, and gossiping just as we always did.

Sometimes we even sat out on our patio and did our homework together, or just complained about doing it at times. But things started to change, and I would have never expected any of this from Kendra. One of the first red flags was her growing resentment whenever I mentioned plans involving anyone other than her. It would start as just saying that I was going to hang out with someone from uni or someone that I used to work with.

She would sound upset, and my initial reaction would be to apologize and ask if she wanted to join. She always declined, and then would say with a smile, "No, go have fun with your friend. It's fine." But it was pretty obviously a fake happiness for me. Me, not really knowing how to handle conflict, would just say okay and leave. But it became less fake and more passive remarks.

Even when I would bring someone over to hang out with, she was always rude to them, and then even to me, but would apologize immediately after they left, giving some lame excuse about not feeling well or something like that. We got into a small argument when I said that I was going to see my mom and my sister. Ever since I was around 12 or 13, my mom would take one day out of every month and take my sister and I out on a mom-daughter day.

My dad did the same thing with my brother. It was just a time for us to talk about anything and everything, vent, share accomplishments, really whatever we wanted, and I absolutely appreciated it. We kept up with it after I moved out, because I think all of us kind of missed me being around. My sister was still in high school at the time.

When I was getting ready to leave, Kendra asked about going with me, and I apologized and told her that this was the one time that I would really decline it, as it was my time with them. She threw a fit. She accused me of not involving her in anything, and forgetting about her. I didn't understand where this was coming from, because she knew about this get-together. I didn't really understand why she was so upset."

But one of the biggest blows came out when, after I made dinner for us, I said I was going to meet up with a friend from uni to work on a project that was coming up. And, once again, she made remarks about me being annoying. I didn't know where this came from and asked her what her problem was. She unleashed some pretty hurtful torrents of accusations and belittling of me for my academic choices.

She actually tried to guilt trip me for choosing to go to uni instead of the community college with her. She said that I was supposed to be willing to go to school with her, since we were supposed to be best friends. Then, she kept making remarks about being Ms. Perfect, and how I felt like I was better than her because of it. I was pretty upset. She knew how hard I had worked for that scholarship, and how important it was to me.

She had even encouraged me to pursue it, so I didn't understand. Why did I have to bend over to attend the same school as her when she had no drive and no goals in her life? Was I supposed to give up mine? So those incidents alone caused a pretty big rift in our friendship. We still had good days after that, but it wasn't the same.

I felt like I had to tiptoe around things that I would talk about to not set her off. I even told my mom about it, and she said that if she kept this up, then I should consider not renewing the lease with her when it was up. And I sadly had to agree. The next big blowup would come when I started seeing this guy from my school. When I would be with him, Kendra would blow up my phone like a stalker or possessive and jealous partner.

I say this because my boyfriend actually thought maybe I was seeing someone else and was hiding it from him. When he finally came over one day and met her, he finally understood, and he believed me when he saw how overbearing she was. She even had the audacity to tell me that she didn't like it when I bought friends over and that he wasn't allowed to come back.

I can understand not wanting someone over that makes you uncomfortable, and if your name is on the lease, like it was for both of us, I think you have the right to say this. But that's obviously not what this was. He had come over maybe four times. Once to have dinner, once while he waited for me to get ready, once to work on homework with me, and another to just pick me up. He never even stayed there overnight.

He was never in the room alone with her. She was obviously, again, just mad at me, and was using this as a way to punish me. So, finally, it was my turn to snap, and I told her that she was acting like a jealous ex, and that I didn't appreciate her treating me like that. I left, and actually stayed with my boyfriend for the weekend. One of those days I was off, and the other day I did have to work.

I cringed at having to see her. However, she never showed up. It was a normal day that she worked, so even though I was mad, I was kind of concerned for her. She hadn't messaged me all week and she wasn't responding to me, so I left early to go home and check on her. Getting home, she was definitely there but she wouldn't come out of her room. She yelled at me through the door that she was fine and that she just wasn't ready to talk to me.

She sounded okay, so I just went about the day, until I had to leave for school that evening. I didn't see her again until the next day at work, where she would finally show up, but I wasn't the first one to see her. A few people that I worked with had made jokes about my twin being here, and when I saw her, I was shocked. She had gorgeous mid-length coppery blonde hair,

She had cut it into a bob, dyed it black, and had hot pink bangs. Just like mine. It was pretty clearly obvious what she was doing, but yet she was completely chipper and in a really good mood. Even when she saw me, not knowing how to react, she said that she just wanted to try something different. I mean, what do you say to your estranged friend who is now looking exactly like you?

But that same week, she would come home with a nose piercing, then an eyebrow piercing, just like me. I tried to ask her what she was thinking and what she was trying to do, and she acted like she didn't understand the question. One of the biggest betrayals came after her transformation. I was hanging out with my boyfriend at school when he started looking at his phone confused.

I asked him what was going on, and he asked me if I had created a new Facebook profile. I told him no, and he showed me a profile that tried to add him as a friend. It was Kendra. I knew it was. She was obviously trying to copy my profile picture, but you know your friends. This was her, but her name was something different. Almost cryptic. I don't remember what it was, because it was a weird mix-up of my name.

Curious about what her goal was, I told him to add her. He did, and immediately after she started messaging him and flirting with him. She kept saying that she wanted to hook up with him, and as she continued, I was getting angrier and angrier. So they set up a time that night, and both of us showed up with her. To say that she was surprised to see me there was an understatement. I flew off the handle.

I demanded to know what the hell her problem was, why she was doing everything she had done so far, why she was trying to look like me, why was she trying to become me, and in a completely normal, unfazed tone, she mentioned that she thought if she was a little more like me, that I would like her more, or that others would like her and that she would be successful. I did not understand her mentality.

We were always outgoing and had many friends in school. We both hung out with a lot of other girls that all got along with both of us. She was very attractive and dated here and there too. I didn't know why she was doing this. I told her that she was being unreasonable and, to be honest, pretty creepy. So, I once again left. I called my mom that night and actually stayed at home.

My parents told me it was probably best to go ahead and move out for safety reasons, and that I was welcome to stay with them. They were just as shocked as I was. They adored Kendra, and she was treated like one of their kids. Kendra had a good family too. She had two younger siblings, and I knew her parents. They were both always caring and very supportive. I did end up moving out that week.

I told the property owner and paid my half of the rent and the fee for breaking the lease. I wrote a letter to Kendra saying that I was moving out and that her side of the rent was still required, but that mine had been taken care of. She never called or texted me after that, not even via Facebook or something, so I just thought, there goes a lost friendship. However, while she never contacted me by her number or her original Facebook profile, I

She had tried to add me as a friend under various names, and I've even gotten calls from random numbers of just breathing. The Facebook profiles are definitely her because she uses the same photos, but while I can't be certain that the phone numbers are all her, it's pretty damning that it didn't start until after I moved out.

Like I said, this happened quite some time ago, but I still get random Facebook requests from her and she still looks like me. I even changed my hair, and wouldn't you know it, she somehow found out and changed hers too. It's just creepy to me that after so long, she is still out there, watching me, following me around, and she cannot seem to move on.

So, Kendra, in the off chance that you see this, please, please move on, and just leave me alone. My wife and I were talking about having another yard sale this year, which brought up the last experience we had when we hosted one two years ago. I started listening to your channel last year, so I hadn't even considered submitting this, but I think I should share what happened to us with you now.

We were going to be moving to a smaller house on the other side of the city, so we wanted to try and condense and get rid of a lot of stuff beforehand. I certainly didn't want to waste energy on moving things that we no longer wanted. Not to mention, we can make a little extra cash to help pay for the moving truck or something else.

The neighborhood we lived in had always been pretty quiet. Sometimes a couple a few houses down would argue in the front yard, but that was about as wild as it got. People around were typically friendly, they would wave at you if you were out in your yard. There were tons of kids that would ride their bikes or scooters down the sidewalk, and there was even an elementary school just around the block from us. Overall, it was a nice place.

but the place just cost too much for us. Anyways, we started setting up our tables, I strung some rope from the garage to one of the trees to hang things up. It was forecasted to be a warm and sunny day with no rain, so we brought out as much as we could: books, electronics, tools, clothing, and various knickknacks. People started trickling in around 9am, and we had a steady stream of people from then on, which was great.

Things were being bought constantly, and it just seemed very successful. Right around noon, a guy showed up who immediately made me uneasy. Something was telling me that I needed to keep an eye on this guy. At first, I tried to reason with myself, thinking the worst he could do would be to steal something and take off. Would it be really crappy? Absolutely. But I would only be mad for a bit, and then probably get over it before the end of the day.

Either way, I still felt the need to watch him. He was probably in his mid-forties, scruffy looking, and he had a shifty stare that made my skin crawl. He tried to make it look like he was interested in items on display, but I could see past it. He was not interested in these items, but what he was actually interested in, I couldn't guess.

At one point, we made eye contact, so I just smiled and nodded, to at least acknowledge that I saw him there. He took it as an invitation to talk to me. "You the owner of this stuff?" he asked me. I told him I was, to which he followed up with asking why we were getting rid of a lot of it. I vaguely mentioned that we were moving and just wanted to get rid of some things. He then started asking more direct and specific questions.

First, it was about certain items, like a vase set. He would ask where we got it. I didn't know for sure, but I joked that she probably got it from some home goods store because that was her thing. His interest seemed to peak when I said this, and his questions became less about the items. He asked if she was home, and I just said that she was out getting us lunch. He asked how long we had been together, and what we both did for work.

I again gave vague answers, saying that she worked in audits and financing, myself in sales. He asked us if we worked from home, and for this one I straight up lied. I said that we both worked from home full time. There was no way that I was telling this man that my wife occasionally worked from home alone. He finally nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answers, and walked off to fake look at our stuff again.

I continued to watch him as that conversation did not help relieve any concerns I had about him. He probably continued to browse at things for another 10-15 minutes, talked on the phone for a bit, and then left without purchasing anything. Strange, sure, but I was honestly just relieved that he was gone. As the day went on, we had more people come and go, more purchases being made,

and I started to relax a bit more. The guy was nearly out of my mind altogether. But then a bit later, maybe around 4 or 5, I saw a familiar car pull up, and that same guy got out. However, this time he wasn't alone. Two other men, equally rough and suspicious looking, got out and immediately looked at my house.

They weren't scanning the tables and random boxes of items. No, they were staring directly at my house. They definitely did not look like they were there to shop. The problem was that the way they stood towards the end of my driveway, nearly blocking part of it, was making other people obviously uncomfortable, and they were leaving. My wife had gone inside, and once she came back out, I pointed them out to her.

I had told her about them when she got back from getting us lunch, and she agreed that she was getting the same bad vibes from them. So we agreed to start packing up early. We started storing stuff in the garage and helped the few people that had stuff in their hands or were still looking over the stuff still on display. I grabbed the stuff closest to the guys, not wanting my wife to get close. And man, it was intimidating. I've never been a big guy.

In fact, I was fairly thin and tall, but really hardly any muscle to me. When I approached them, they talked quieter, or not at all, like they were trying to be secretive. We didn't have much left, so I just hollered out to the men, "Have a good one," and started working on the stuff closer to the garage. That's when my wife pointed out that the guys had moved up the driveway.

As we stood there trying to make ourselves look busy and calm, we really didn't know what to do. Did we start closing the garage, leaving the rest of the stuff outside, and run for the door? It was an attached garage, so if they tried to do something to the door, they could get into our home. I told my wife to go ahead and go stand in the door with her phone, ready to call for help, worst case scenario, when I heard a familiar voice calling my name.

I looked over and saw my neighbor, walking up to me, with his big, goofy smile and another guy next to him. I met him by my garage door, and he introduced me to the man that was with him, who turned out to be his brother. He then brought me into the garage and was pointing to something in it, when he quietly said, "'Everything okay here?' I knew immediately what he was talking about. They'd been watching from his patio and were also growing suspicious of these men."

I tried to stay calm and say that I didn't know what to do. Now, he was a larger guy, probably closer to that scruffy guy, but his brother was even bigger, so I was already starting to calm down. His brother walked out and grabbed one of the tables, and as he came back, he asked the men if there was something that they needed. He wasn't really asking. It was more of a "take a hint and get the hell out of here."

The guys stared at him for a few seconds, and then finally nodded and got back into their car. His brother then waved them off, and we watched them slowly roll away. My wife came out, and we all stood in the garage and talked about what had happened. I explained when the first guy showed up alone and the strange conversation that we had. He said that he saw him the first time, and when they showed back up, they were really not feeling good about it.

We thanked them profusely for coming over, and after they helped us bring in the remaining items, they went back over to his place. We were now back in the safety of our home with all the doors and windows locked, but that paranoia definitely remained. Every time the camera above the garage detected movement, I was checking it, just hoping that it wasn't those guys coming back. Thankfully, it never was. This all happened on a Friday.

That Saturday we set it all up again, our neighbors checking on us throughout the day, and we hoped that they wouldn't show back up. He didn't, and Saturday went fine. Then we had our sale for one more day on Sunday with the same routine. However, of all the cars I saw slow down and check out the sale from the car, there was one that I recognized. It was the guy from Friday.

I was immediately on edge, but kept it together as he never stopped, never got out, and he just kept on driving. We kept an eye out for them, and while it was unsettling that he drove by a few times, he never did stop. We packed up what remained on Sunday, and I just remember feeling relieved that the weekend was over, and that we wouldn't have to watch for him again. But then, later that night, while sitting in the living room...

I got a camera notification for movement. I checked it, and I saw a car slow to a stop right in front of our driveway. It was the same car. I looked out the front window and saw the car still sitting there, now with the car and all of its lights off. I went back and checked the camera, and the car had been sitting there for 20 minutes. I started to panic a bit. I didn't know what their intentions were, so I called the cops.

I told them what was going on and waited for them to arrive. To my surprise, and relief, they rolled up without the siren lights, and I'm pretty sure the guy didn't expect it. I watched as the cop parked, now blocking the driveway, and then turned on his lights. The man had started the car, but the cop was already out and walking towards the driver's side.

Of course, I couldn't hear what was being said, so after speaking to the guy, the cop then came to our door and talked to us. He said the guy claimed to be lost, and that he was looking for a friend's place, and that he had stopped in our driveway to check if he had the right address. He didn't give us his name, but he did say that the guy didn't have an ID or driver's license on him, so they were holding him to look up his details.

We showed him the camera footage to prove that he was the same guy as earlier, and from Friday. They wouldn't tell me too much about the guy, but they did say that he was going with them because of how he was acting, and someone else came to get his car since they couldn't let him drive, since he didn't have an ID. The person that did show up was a middle-aged woman in pajamas, and she did not look happy about the situation.

After they all left, I never saw that man, his friends, or the woman ever again. I don't know what his intentions were, but all I could think, with him asking those questions and looking at my house, was that maybe he was casing the place. Maybe he was interested in the stuff that we weren't selling. I was just incredibly thankful for my neighbor and his brother Jim and Greg for coming over.

Since we've moved, I've honestly missed living next to him. He was always very kind and watchful for us. I don't know if those guys would have tried something if they hadn't come over, but the thought of it always freaks me out. I'm also very thankful of the camera that we had, and I can promise you, they are set up in our new place too. I just hope those guys never came back, and that they never gave anyone else trouble.

I have a story that is probably one of the most disturbing things to have ever happened to my family. I say my family because it was more so my grandparents, but it's something that has been kind of held close to all of us since it happened. All of this happened on my grandparents' property, and my grandpa was even looked at as a suspect for a moment, but was eventually cleared for the whole thing.

Even still, this whole event was devastating for my grandfather, for reasons that will be obvious in a little while. I do need to give a small bit of context, so bear with me while I detail a few things. This happened quite a long time ago. My dad was still in his teens when this took place, so it was way before my time.

My grandparents lived in the northwestern part of the US, and they owned a decent amount of land there. It all belonged to my great-great-grandfather, and had been passed down twice at this point to my grandfather, Ronald. On the land that they owned, in the southern corner, complete opposite of my grandparents' actual house, was a small cabin that, way back, was where the hired help on the land lived.

By the time my grandfather got the land, the cabin was empty, and was used more for storage than anything. Still, they kept it up, and made sure that if anyone ever wanted or needed to stay in the cabin, they could. My grandfather kept the land around it tidy, and kept it up on the maintenance of the building. It is important to mention that this cabin, being on the opposite end of the property, was nowhere near the house.

In order to get to the cabin, you would have to get on the road, circle around the property until you hit the south end, and then pull up the driveway to get to it. In the fall of 1965, my grandfather's cousin, Walter, a man that helped raise my grandfather because they were separated by about 12 years, came to visit my grandpa and asked him if he could stay in the cabin for a little while.

Apparently, Walter had, in his words, fallen on hard times, and needed somewhere to stay for a couple of months. My grandfather didn't ask him any questions about what had happened, because Walter was family, and he said that Walter was welcome to stay for as long as he needed.

Obviously, my grandpa was suspicious that something was going on, that Walter had done something illegal or questionable, because he'd been in with some questionable people in the past. But again, he was family, and my grandpa never questioned family or left them in the cold. He was a man that didn't say much, but he was very loyal to those that he knew and loved, because that's how he was raised.

A few weeks passed, and Walter had set up his home in the cabin. My grandfather went over to visit with him a few times over the first week to see how he was doing. Walter seemed a bit nervous at first, but as the first month came and went, he seemed a lot more comfortable and less on edge. Again, red flags I know, but my grandfather was confident that Walter would be able to handle whatever it was.

He did ask him if he should be worried for himself and his wife at one point, but Walter told him that everything was fine, and that he would just be there a few months until things settled down, and then he would be out of his hair.

Again, questionable comments being made there, but in the end, my grandpa just said that Walter was free to stay as long as he needed, told him where the ammo for the hunting rifle in the cabin was, then went back home to my grandmother and my father. A couple more weeks passed, and my grandpa hadn't heard much from Walter.

And that Saturday, he decided he would take the trip around to see how he was, and ask if he wanted to help with some work that he needed to do. He pulled his truck up to the cabin, and immediately felt like something was off. Walter's car wasn't in the driveway, but the door to the cabin was wide open. My grandpa thought initially that Walter had to take off in a hurry and left the door open.

Obviously, this bothered him, but it would have been the better alternative to what did end up happening. My grandpa walked up to the cabin and called out for his cousin, but there was no response. Then he walked in. He knew immediately that something horrible had happened. My grandfather always described what he saw as a scene straight out of his worst nightmares.

The furniture in the cabin was overturned and destroyed, one of the windows was shattered with the glass on the inside of the cabin, meaning it had been broken in, and the air was thick with that coppery scent of blood. There was a massive dark stain on the carpet in the living room, and a trail that led from there out the back door of the cabin, like the person that was bleeding had been dragged out of the cabin.

Then he noticed the large bloody knife that was stabbed into the cabinet, pinning a piece of paper to it, and my grandfather's blood turned cold as ice when he read it. "'Sorry about your cabin, Ronald. This wasn't personal, and we have no beef with you. Don't bother trying to find him. We were told to take care of him and to make him disappear, so he did.'

My grandpa said that those words were like a cold hand around his heart, that they made him feel sick to his stomach when he read them. He panicked and started shouting for Walter, but he knew deep down that there wasn't going to be a response. Whoever Walter had messed with had taken care of business, and that was the end of it. Grandpa raced back home and called the authorities, telling the cops that he thought that someone had been murdered in the cabin.

Their investigation ended up yielding more questions than answers. Of course, back then, forensics wasn't exactly a super complex thing. The only clue was the blood, the knife, and the note. And Walter was never found. Dead nor alive. A fact that hovered over my grandfather for probably the rest of his life.

The cabin was a crime scene for a while, the officers and investigators coming through every once in a while to try to find clues or to ask my grandfather questions, but after a little while it was released back to him to do with as he pleased. My grandpa ended up moving all of his tools and everything he needed out of the cabin, burned everything else in it, and then boarded up the husk that he left behind.

He wanted to demolish it, but he never did. I think that it haunted him too much to do so. Like, he wanted to, but then kept telling himself that maybe Walter would come back. The only time that I went out to that side of the property as a kid, my father told me the story of what happened, and I saw that the building had pretty much been destroyed by nature. Overgrown, wood rotting out, and so forth.

My uncle ended up taking over the land, as my father had moved out of state, so he offered it to him instead, when both my grandparents had passed away. My uncle did end up demolishing the old cabin, so there's nothing left there now but the memories of what happened. As of today, Walter's case is obviously on ice. No evidence, no new leads, and everyone involved is probably gone by now.

But whatever ended up happening to Walter, based on the state of that cabin, I have to imagine that it wasn't quick, nor painless. Hello. I wanted to share something that, while it didn't directly happen to me, I was involved. And my part was pretty terrifying. I worked in a call center environment, but I typically made outbound calls.

My job was to call the customer to confirm an issue they were having with our service, and to schedule an appointment with one of our techs to go out and try to troubleshoot, diagnose, and fix the problem in person. I was basically the last resort. If an escalated tech couldn't figure it out over the phone, or it was determined that something had to be physically done, then it would be sent to me to double check all of the steps, then schedule that appointment.

Pretty simple, really. Unless it was just requested because the customer refused to do any of the troubleshooting with us. My shift ended at 10pm, and we can only do callouts as late as 8pm the customer's time. So for the last two hours, I helped with the escalations. It was about 10 till 8, so I took one more callout, thinking that I could take my last break afterwards and then move on to the inbound calls.

leaving me with less than two hours to go. This was my normal routine, day in and day out, so I was expecting to know where the call would go and how long it would take. Business as usual. I dialed the number and waited for someone to answer, when I heard the voice of a sweet, frail older lady answer. I gave my normal opening. Hi, this is Shauna from Internet Company. May I speak with Linda? Yeah.

The voice on the other end answered in a quiet, calm tone. "Oh, yeah, I've been expecting your call. There's been some… strange stuff happening." I asked her to elaborate, thinking she meant with the equipment, since that's the whole reason for my call. "I think someone's been watching me. I'm hearing whispers and seeing shadows in my home, but they move on their own. It's not my shadow."

My first thought was, okay, great. We have a crazy customer. We have quite a few customers that call in only to accuse us of watching them through their modem, or wanting us to send a new one because they tore apart the other one looking for the microphone. So, as I tried again to question her and move the conversation forward, she began talking more, and something she said made me listen more.

Her voice had a sense of unease to it. As she said, "They're not wearing your uniform. I probably shouldn't trust them, right?" I asked her what she was talking about when I started hearing shuffling in the phone. I called out for her a few times and didn't get a response. Until I finally heard heavy breathing. And she said, "Shh. I'm hiding. Hopefully they won't find me." By now, everything she said so far is circling in my head.

But when she mentioned the uniforms, I started getting these ideas. Was someone there? Is that what she meant by the shadows that she was seeing? But I knew that it couldn't have been anyone with us because I was calling her to make the appointment. And we don't do appointments that late either. And when she mentioned hiding, I immediately became on high alert.

I start thinking that someone is breaking into this woman's house, and maybe she thought that I was 911 calling her, or maybe she just got lucky with me calling before she had the chance to call them. I knew that I needed to try and confirm if this was real. First, I instinctually asked calmly and quietly if she was okay, where she was, and if someone was in her house. She only confirmed my fears.

She said that she was hiding in her closet from the two men that were at her door. I asked if she let them in or knew who they were, and she declined both. She said that they had something long in their hands and started banging on her door, which caused her to hide. I told her to stay there and that I was going to call the police for her. Without hanging up, I messaged my manager to come see me ASAP, and she showed up quickly.

I explained everything going on at that moment. As I heard the shaky breaths coming from Linda, she said that she would contact the police, and I messaged her the address to get started on it. When she went back to her desk, I had to play the middleman of asking Linda questions and messaging my manager back the answers that the operator was asking. Then, as I listened to Linda's line, I heard a loud crashing sound, and Linda gasped.

I was afraid to call out for her, not wanting my line to give her away. I tried my best to whisper into the phone if she was okay, and after some more shaky breaths, she responded, "I think they broke a window." I immediately told my boss that they were likely inside, and she came back over to my desk, talking to the operator on her personal phone. Per the directions of the operator, I told her to remain quiet unless she needed to tell me something.

and from there all we could do was listen to the sounds around her. I started hearing banging and tapping noises, thuds like things were being dropped and thrown. Then I could hear a scraping sound and loud thuds and grunts from a man. I was terrified. Terrified for Linda and just helpless. All I could do was sit there and listen with her, praying that they didn't find her. That was the longest day of my life. Waiting for someone to show up and help her,

My manager was still standing by me, and she tapped my shoulder saying that the operator confirmed the police were there. I quietly relayed the information to Linda, telling her not to come out, until the police called for her. From there, I heard shouting and more shuffling sounds on the phone. I called out for Linda to make sure she wasn't involved, but she didn't respond. Then, she finally responded, and said that one of the men ran into her room.

the same room with the closet that she was in. But then I could hear the police calling out for her, and my manager relayed the same thing. I could hear the shuffling again from Linda's end, and with a creak, she responded to the police. I asked her if she was with them now when she said that she was, and thanked me for the help. I remember her calm and happy tone as she thanked me, and she didn't sound like there was a single ounce of fear in her voice.

It was incredible. I hung up the phone, as did my manager, and she hugged me saying that I did a great job, and told me that I could take an extended break or just go home if I wanted to. I didn't hesitate to take that offer. I felt like I was more shaken up than Linda was. If the police hadn't gotten there as fast as they did, would they have found her? They did get to the room, so the odds were pretty high.

and that was terrifying to me. I just worked support for an ISP. I was not a 911 operator for obvious reasons. I couldn't handle taking calls like that every day, and I commend those that do. My manager and I both wanted updates on Linda and what happened, so through means of still needing to schedule her appointment ,

She allowed me to mark her ticket as in process, so I would keep it, and I would try to contact her again. A few days later, I was able to reach her and I started the call out as normal, trying to emphasize, it's me, Shauna, again, hoping that she might recognize my name or voice. I could almost hear the lightbulb go off when she said my name. I knew that she remembered me.

"'Oh, you're the young lady that helped me the other night,' she said cheerfully. I confirmed that I was and asked if she was okay and how she was doing. She told me how she saw the shadows from them coming into her bay window as the motion light in her driveway went off. That was about the time that I called. She closed her curtains and as she began talking to me, she saw the men approach her door and with whatever they had, they started messing with her door.'

That's when she knew that she had to do something. Shortly after, they broke out her window and began rifling through her belongings. She explained that when the police arrived, she heard them shouting at one guy while the other ran into her room. Her room was towards the back of the house, so she thinks that he went there to get away. But the windows in her room were really old, and people oftentimes didn't know how to open them. They had a crank lever.

so there was no way that he could escape through the window. So he ran back out of the room. She told me that the police did catch them both, so while her house was a mess, she didn't lose anything. She said that she was still waiting for the window to be replaced, and joked that her cable was the least of her concerns now. I told her that it wouldn't cost anything for us to come out, and she agreed, and we continued as normal from there.

Afterwards, she thanked me again and we said our goodbyes. I was incredibly thankful that I was able to take that call that night, no matter how terrifying it was. I would like to think that if I hadn't called, she would have called 911, but the way she was speaking so calmly at first, it seemed like it wasn't a big deal, and I worry that she may not have.

We do have the customer date of births on file, so I knew that she was in her late 70s, so it was possible that she wasn't quite thinking straight. But I try not to think about that, and rather I focus on the fact that I truly made a difference in my silly job for that day. I don't work there anymore, but my manager still does, and we do keep in touch.

Thankfully, she said that they haven't had another call like that since. "Hey Raven, I saw your post about stories and I thought about this trip that I took with my friends back in 2019 and thought you might be interested in it. Three of my friends, Mason, Andrew, and Phil, and myself all went camping during our spring break. We were all going to the same uni, but we pretty much kept to ourselves.

We were far from the popular crowd, but we still liked to do crazy fun things and to get a little stupid. So, this time, we wanted to go camping, drink, and let loose. We went to a state park that was a few hours away and found a good place deep in the trees, away from the people. We didn't want someone to report us for being too loud and disruptive, so we tried to stay away from others.

Once we got there, and set up, all hell broke loose. We probably drank more than we should have, but we stayed at our camps, so I felt that we were safe. We laughed, made fun of each other, vented about the dumb BS we were dealing with at uni. Really, this was a much-needed break for us. But at some point that night, I started hearing what sounded like someone whispering, or talking, just far off.

I heard it, and when I noticed Phil cocking his head to the side, I asked if he was hearing it too. He nodded and asked what it was. I shrugged, not knowing what it was, but then we all got quiet, and by the look on their faces, Mason and Andrew must have heard it too. We were in the middle of the woods. We were all intoxicated, and there were still people around somewhere, so we didn't think anything else of it.

We just calmed down so we weren't as loud and let it go. Shortly after, we all passed out peacefully. The next morning, I was thankful to wake up without the repercussions of the night prior's drinking, but we couldn't say the same for Andrew. He was feeling it and was not ready to get up yet. So, while he told us to go on without him, deciding to sleep in, we decided to go for a hike. The three of us packed our hiking bags and headed off.

We were probably about two miles away from our campsite. We found a pretty tall rock formation that we climbed over and saw that there was more forest above. We all agreed to continue through it, wanting to see what we could find. Shortly after entering those trees, the atmosphere seemed to shift. It's hard to explain, and I wish that I had a word for it. It was like being wrapped in a blanket, bathing in the sunlight,

And then someone just put a cold, dark metal box over you. Not only was there a shift in temperature, but like being put in a metal box, I also became anxious, and was on edge. The density and amount of trees had not changed. There was the same amount of sunlight, yet it felt colder. I looked back at Mason and Phil, and they agreed. Something was different too.

However, we wanted to continue on, determined to figure out the cause of the shift. As we walked deeper into the woods, we started hearing the familiar sounds from the night prior. The muffled talking. We figured we were probably close to some other campers. It seemed like a weird spot, and we became curious how they got there. Did they walk all that way and climb up here to camp? Was there a road somewhere that led up there and we were just oblivious?

So we continued on. We walked a little further and the talking became clearer and clearer until we found the source. Through the trees, we spotted not only people, but a whole damn village. But these people did not look normal, or at least not modern. They were in old-fashioned style clothing, think Little House on the Prairie style. The tall hats, bonnets, and all.

We just stood by the trees, watching them from where we were. We could hear them talk better, and while they were speaking English, it still sounded old, if that made sense. They were carrying buckets, wheelbarrows, and one of the women was even sitting in front of a small house, washing or doing something to some clothes. What were we witnessing? There were several houses there. Did we just manage to stumble on a neighborhood?

Maybe it bumped up to the back of the park, but with the shift in the atmosphere, something still was not sitting right to me. Part of me wanted to approach them and ask about it, but Mason's mouth works faster than my brain, and he very loudly made a comment about the weird-looking hats. Phil and I cringed and looked at him, but then noticed how quiet it grew, and looked back at the village. To my embarrassment, they were all looking at us.

but they looked at us like they were bewildered. Or maybe even scared, I guess. If all you've ever seen were people dressed like you, and then you saw someone who looked so different, maybe you would have the same reaction. Either way, something was not right, and them being able to see us seemed to make the situation worse. I felt like we needed to get out of there sooner rather than later. I elbowed the other two so we could leave, and they finally agreed.

We slowly walked back the way that we entered, climbed down the cliff and went back to our camp. It didn't seem to take as long, maybe because we walked a little faster, but once back, Andrew was awake so we explained to him what we saw. He thought that it sounded interesting and he wanted to see it too, so we all agreed to show him the next day. We were all hungry and tired at that point.

The next day, we set off to find the place, this time with our phones with us, wanting to take a few pictures. We typically left them at the camp, because the signal was so shoddy. There was no point in carrying them, but once we got to the area, it was just trees. There was no sign of the village. We traced our steps almost to a T, we climbed the same cliff, we could even see the marks that we left in it.

We walked through the same trees, making out the flattened part of the grass and fallen leaves, but when we got through the trees, there were nothing but large boulders and more trees. We circled around the area, thinking maybe we were somehow off, but we never found it. That change in the atmosphere wasn't there like last time either. How could a whole village just disappear? Andrew thought we were screwing with him at first, trying to make him feel bad for staying behind,

But after a little convincing and us all bringing up the same things, explaining things similarly, he believed us. We went back to our camp once again, completely stumped at what we experienced. After we left, we tried doing some research on the place to see if there was anything about an old town that used to be there, or maybe some kind of show, but we found nothing. We all still bring this up and want to go back, but we haven't had the time since.

I really want to know if we saw something we shouldn't have. Like we stepped into another place in time, but I can't even tie a community to this park. If anyone else has experienced something similar, I would love to hear about it. To quote Mr. Stack, maybe someone out there has an answer to our mystery. I want to preface this first by saying that this story may not be for everyone. It does include abuse and talks of my own death,

but I'll keep those details to a minimum. But I did want to include the trigger warning. I met this guy Jordan one night while out with some friends having a few drinks. We made eye contact after my friend pointed out that he'd been staring at us. All it took was me smiling at him, and he came over and bought a solid drink. After chatting with him that night, I got his number, and since I was interested in him, I texted him the next day.

Little did I know how much this would change and even shape my life. We started dating shortly after, and for a while there, everything was great. It was good enough that I let him convince me to move in with him. I found myself staying over there many nights, so I didn't renew my lease and just moved in with him officially. Some people, including my mom, thought that it was way too fast, and was reasonably concerned, but I did my best to assure her.

I mean, I thought that I loved him. I thought that we loved each other. But once I moved in, he showed a whole different side of him. He became incredibly controlling and possessive. He wanted to know where I was at all times. I had to call him when I got to work and when I was leaving. If I took too long, either way, he would call and ask where I was. I used to stop at the store or occasionally run errands after I left work, but I couldn't do that anymore.

He was suspicious, and I would either have to pick him up to go with me, or wait until he got home. I had to start planning dinners way in advance, or have groceries delivered because otherwise, it would be late before I got done, which he would also complain about. He never made dinner. I always did. I don't even know what he did for food before we got together or on the nights that we didn't go out and have dinner before I moved in.

And if he didn't know where I was at all times, the accusations would fly. I must have been out there messing around with someone else. And that name-calling and other verbal abuse? It was degrading. I wasn't seeing anyone else. Hell, I didn't even have time to consider it with how much I had to do for him. I slowly became more and more reclusive, feeling like it would just make things easier if I stayed home. He would know where I was at all times this way,

I did have some friends, and even my mom come visit me, but if they were unexpected, he became even angrier. Usually he would hold it in until they left, but he would still make passive-aggressive remarks while they were there, which would then make them uncomfortable enough to leave. And that's when I noticed him becoming physical. Anytime I had company over, or if we went out with others, like to dinner,

He would keep one arm under the table and pinch my leg, and it was never just to play around or get my attention. He would leave large red marks and bruises all over my legs. I liked wearing a lot of skirts and dresses, but if we were with others, I started wearing jeans to make it hard on him, which only angered him more. My life quickly went from bad to living a nightmare, and I didn't know how to get out of it.

There were days that I called in to work because of how bad I looked. I had all but given up as he watched my every move. He'd even put a camera in the living room, saying it was for security, and if I so much as touched it to do things like dusting, he would lose his mind. I honestly felt trapped, and thought that this would be my life until I died there. Hell, I even considered ending my own life to just put me out of my own misery.

But then I thought about my mom, and my younger sister who looked up to me, and what would Jordan do or say to them? What would he do to me if he found me first? Between that and calling myself a coward, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Yeah, just another fun side effect of being with Jordan. But then, out of nowhere, Jordan came home with news that I never would have expected. He told me to pack my bags because I had to leave.

I was confused because I lived there. It wasn't like I had my own place anymore. He then reiterated that he was done with me, that I wasn't the same girl that he got with just a few years earlier, and that he no longer loved me. He just flat out was kicking me out. I was stunned. I didn't know how to react. In fact, I was happy to finally be able to leave, but I knew him well enough to know this couldn't be true."

It had to be a test, and if I didn't beg him to let me stay, what danger would I be in then? So I started crying out of fear and confusion, asking him to let me stay, and he never changed his stance. I even asked him if he was seeing someone else, but he wouldn't answer. It wouldn't surprise me if he was, though. So, as he stood over me, watching me pack a few bags with my clothes and other essentials,

I sniffled as a few tears fell. I hated myself for this part, but I was still fearing it was a test. I stood at the door with my last box and asked if he was sure about this, cringing that he would change his mind. He angrily told me that he was, and shut the door in my face. I got into my car and I burst into tears. But that time, they were out of relief and happiness. I was finally free from Jordan-

and I had my life back. My mom didn't really know what all was happening in that apartment, other than she was suspicious of him. I'm sure that she knew something was wrong, but I always told her it was fine, and I even pleaded with her to not get involved. Usually I would get defensive, saying I was fine so that she would let it go, fearing what he might do to me if he found out that I told her.

I don't blame her one bit for any of this, and I never would, so please don't judge my mother either. She would have done all that she could for me, but I made sure that she thought everything was fine, so nothing would happen to her or my sister. Anyways, that was the only place I could go. I hadn't physically seen her in months, and when she saw me, we both started crying. I still had bruises all over me, and I know that I looked like hell.

I couldn't bring myself to even take care of myself, thinking that none of it mattered anyways. I broke down and told her everything. After a lot of talking and crying, she helped me to unload my car and bring it all back to my old bedroom. My little sister was 17 and was still in school. My mom pretty much kept my room as I left it. I didn't have a bed in there anymore, but my shelf, dresser, and a few other items were still in there.

She of course told me that I could stay as long as I needed, and in fact, I know that she preferred it. She loved having me back home, to speed things up. Jordan never contacted me after that day. I didn't understand his reasoning, but it was just like a breakup and we never spoke again. I tried to continue my life as normal as possible, and no, I never pressed any sort of charges thinking if this was it, then so be it.

and I would never have to deal with him again. I also didn't know if anyone would believe me, that he just let me leave. That's not something a normal abuser would do, right? So again, call me stupid or selfish for not thinking about another girl getting with him, but it's all I could do to get my life back at the time. I did start therapy to teach myself that it wasn't my fault,

and that I was worth the effort, and between that and my mom and sister, I was healing. But that would all come to a screeching halt when I was leaving work late one night. It had been about three months since Jordan left me, and I was genuinely happy. I was still single, wanting to focus on me, but I was enjoying my life with my friends and family again. As I unlocked my car, I didn't notice anyone around me,

which is why I was caught off guard when I felt someone come up behind me and slam me into my car. Once they started talking, I knew that it was Jordan. I was too terrified to speak, which caused him to turn me around forcefully, and that's when I saw the knife. He was holding it against my throat. He then confirmed my worst nightmares.

He said that the breakup was a test. He said that I failed since I didn't fight hard enough to stay with him, and that I was going to pay, as he slowly poked me with the tip of the knife. I thought that was it, that I was going to die right there in the parking lot, but as I started crying and pleading with him to let me go, I heard another voice shout, ''Hey!'' As Jordan had previously ingrained in me, I instantly stopped crying and held my breath.

Jordan backed up, dropping the knife, and started walking away nonchalantly. Then I spotted another man walking toward us, which got Jordan to actually run off. The man stopped by me to ask if I was okay. I was shaking and crying, but this time when the guy offered to call the cops, I didn't refuse. I was terrified, but I was also fed up. I was getting my life back, and I refused to let him win anymore.

When the cops arrived, I told them everything. The bruises from prior were healed by now, but I had a witness for that night. I got a restraining order, and I pressed charges. Going to court was difficult, and I almost backed out, but my sister convinced me that I needed to do this, and I knew that I had to. I wanted her to see that I was strong enough, and that hopefully, I could still be a role model to her.

We lost our dad when she was six and I was fourteen, so I needed to make sure that she understood that this was not what a relationship was about. Overall, he was charged with assault that night and spent some time in jail, but not nearly as long as what he should have gotten. I do still have a restraining order, but thankfully I have not heard nor seen him since that night.

I've become a much stronger person now, and I'm actually happily engaged to a great man. I've known him and have been dating him for years, and my mom and sister also approve of him, so I think that I am doing much better. So to those of you out there that are in similar situations, just know that you are not alone, and even if it feels like no one cares, I promise you that someone does. I know I do.

And thank you for sharing my story. So, this story is about the weirdest night shift I ever had. Maybe not the creepiest, as I have certainly dealt with my share of creeps and people that were blazed out of their mind. Not looking down on people that deal with addiction, just saying they can do some terrifying things.

I've obviously had my fair share of weird people stumble through the door on my overnight shift at the station where I work, but this night takes the cake. It was one of those shifts that kind of started off crappy. I was the only one working because the other overnight attendant was out sick with COVID. But of course, instead of the boss scheduling someone else, he just told me to suck it up and that things would be fine with just one person.

He's kind of a cheapskate, obviously. Anyways, it's around 2am when this random guy walks into the station. Average height, a bit hefty, but mostly nondescript. He's got longer greasy hair, but that doesn't mean much. Most of the customers on the overnight come in looking like they don't really believe in self-care. One thing I noted about him, though, was that he had an intense look on his face, like he was there with purpose.

Now, I have been robbed before, and the guy had that same look, but he immediately walked to the counter and told me to give him the cash. This guy had the look, but turned and asked me if we carried RC Cola. I told him that we did, two liters and single-serve bottles, and mentioned that it was right by the Dr. Pepper in the second door from the left. Yes, I have the store's layout memorized.

He heads over, grabs three bottles of RC, and a bag of the TGI Friday's potato skin chips, and drops them on the counter. I ring him up and tell him his total. He pulls a few bills from his pocket. He then starts fumbling around for a moment, and then mumbles an apology. That's when I notice he's about $2 and some change short on the purchase. I figure, based on this guy's intense frustration over not having the cash...

that he'd had one hell of a night already. So I tell him, Hey man, I got two bucks on me. Don't sweat it. I'll cover the rest. You just have a good rest of the night, alright? He starts to ask me if I'm sure, saying that he could just put something back, but I wave him off, saying it's cool and to just pay it forward in the future if he can. He then gives me the biggest grin I've seen someone give. Like, I literally just changed his life...

and then he reaches into his pocket. Now, at first, I'm thinking this was a test, and this guy was going to give me $100 for being kind. A guy can dream, right? But then he slides a handgun out of the inner pocket of his jacket. Yeah, a gun. And I immediately think that I'm about to get robbed again. But the way he took the gun out didn't make sense for that to be his plan. He didn't do so threateningly.

He pulled it out almost carefully, respectfully even. He then gently placed it on the counter and slid it over to me. "Here," he said with his voice low and quiet, "take this as my way of saying thanks. It'll save your life." Then, he gives me that same smile, a slight nod, and just walks out with his RC and potato chips.

So, there I am, alone in a gas station at two-something in the morning, with a dirty handgun sitting on my counter. I'm thinking that this has to be a joke. There's no way that some dude just left a gun there as a payment for me covering two dollars. My second thought is that something worse is going to happen, and I'm about to die like it's some kind of messed up horror movie. But nothing happens. The guy is just gone. The gun is sitting there,

and for several moments I'm just staring at it in silence. I grabbed some plastic gloves from under the counter there was no way I was touching that thing barehanded and put the gun in a plastic bag and then placed that on the floor behind me and called the cops. The officers arrive and they ask about a call they got saying that someone had found a gun in the store. I had to correct them and explain that I didn't find the gun that I was given the gun.

and they both looked at me like I was crazy or telling an awful joke. I explain what happened, and they both have this same look of, this guy's high on their face, but I assure them the whole thing played out just like I said. I even showed them the security footage of the guy putting it down and sliding it toward me. They take the gun, thank me, and tell me they'll be in touch if they have any further questions, and then tell me to call them if I see the guy again.

The rest of the shift I was nervous, thinking that this guy may come back for his weapon, realizing he gave it away to a stranger, but it was a relatively quiet night after that. I seriously felt crazy, like who gives a gun to a gas station attendant as a thank you for buying their damn potato chips for them? Here's where things got truly bizarre though. About a week or so later, one of the officers come back while he's off duty to get some coffee.

But he recognizes me, and he decides to fill me in on a bit of information. Turns out, the gun was hot. It had been stolen, and potentially used in a homicide, a little while back, about three blocks from my gas station. They were still trying to piece everything together, but this was a huge lead for them in that case, since they now had the weapon, and the guy's fingerprints on it, as well as the footage from the store.

So, in the end, him, I guess, gifting me this gun was a good thing, because it helped to potentially solve a robbery slash homicide from a while back. Of course, I have no idea why he thought I should have the gun, as if I wasn't going to call the police and give it to them. But maybe he really thought I wouldn't? No clue. I worked that overnight shift for about six months after that, but I hit a point where I wanted to change things up.

So, I moved to days at the same station. Thankfully, nothing more like that has ever happened since. Neither to me, nor the poor souls that work the overnights there now. There have been other weird and creepy things for sure, but nothing quite like that. A few years back, my friend got a house for a steal. I have dual citizenship. I'm American, but I live abroad.

This took place in that country. The reason the house was so cheap was because it was all but ready to be bulldozed. It needed a lot of work and he was good at fixing things up himself, so he wanted to challenge himself. Me and a few of our friends agreed to help him out though, and we made a bit of a trip out of it. We brought sleeping bags and tents, as it was a distance for a few of us to get to, and camped out in his backyard.

There were four of us total, including the homeowner that started working on this. We started working on some of the minor things to get them out of the way first, but then we noticed a pretty bad looking spot in the ceiling. However, based on the house, there was an attic, so I knew we needed to check it out too, instead of going straight to the roof. We searched for a bit to find the entry to the attic, which you would think would be pretty easy,

Except it had been painted over, so we missed it a few times. Once we found it, we scraped away the paint, only to realize it was plastered over too. We removed all of that, knowing that the ceilings needed some attention anyways. But then we couldn't even access the drop-down ladder because it had been nailed shut. There was a thin board going across it too.

So, we ripped all of that out, and joked about why someone would go through all of this effort to close off an attic. Finally, we got through, and we were able to get the door open and the ladder down. Once we got up there, we could see that it definitely hadn't been touched in many years. There were a few inches of dust on everything. There was no light in the attic, not even a small window.

So we had to grab a few torches and even ran an extension cord up there for a lamp, but looking around got us curious. It was almost as if someone was living up there. There was a very thin mat on the floor, like a yoga mat, with a small quilted blanket tossed over it. The mat was once white, or maybe a light grey, but was now brown or yellow-stained.

There was a small tray that had two plates stacked on it that were dirty. Flakes of food or something were on it. There was also a wooden cup that had some pens and pencils in it. Lastly, there were a few boxes shoved in the far back corner, being covered by what looked like an old sheet or tablecloth. One of the boxes made me think whoever used to live there was an artist. Charcoal and pastels were seemingly just tossed in the top of the box.

There were several sketch pads filled with pictures that were quite, honestly, disturbing. There were pictures of women screaming, portraits of them all looking terrified, like looking over their shoulder, some with their knees to their chest and head down, all of them nude. There was also a box of photos with similar themes. Both men and women were in these pictures, all nude, all screaming.

Lying on the ground, bound, some of them looked even like they were asleep or, god forbid, dead. It was very unsettling. Then the third box was filled to the brim with loose papers. Napkins, strips of fabric, all of them written on, some of them even read like a diary entry. Others were just ramblings. Ramblings of a mad person, to be honest. It was... creepy.

I know there are a lot of different kinds of artists. It was entirely possible that all these people posed as such to capture that style, but it just seemed so raw and genuine that it spooked me. Not to mention the writings portrayed a person that was slowly going insane. Part of me wanted to go through the writings to put them in order. Most of them had dates on it, but I feel like the crazier sounding pieces did not.

and I wondered if that meant anything. My friend said that he knew nothing of any crimes happening in the house, but said normally he would just toss everything into the garbage. But I convinced him to let me take it to the authorities to at least see if they may have any idea, if it could help them at all, or maybe even they could recognize some of the people from past events. So, we cleared out the attic,

Found a spot where the roof was leaking and rotted through the attic and got it fixed up too. It was a lot of work, and of course took longer than the weekend, but it was worth it. It looks quite nice nowadays. However, I did take that stuff to the police. They thanked me for the info and said that they would follow up with me or my buddy if they had any more questions.

To this day, neither of us ever heard back, so I'm not sure if that means anything. Regardless, we still don't have answers to what we found that day. Was someone living there? Was someone forced to live there, based on the locked up attic? Or maybe they did that to prevent someone from finding their belongings? And was it all just an art project? Or was there something more sinister happening in that house?

I hope that it was all just art, and everyone came out of it okay, but like I said, something about the writings and those pictures together did not bode well, but I just hope that I'm wrong. Hello. I wanted to share a weird and kind of unexplained situation that I was involved in that I really feel like could have saved my life.

Back in 2014, I was pretty heavily into online dating. I'd been single for about 8 months after my ex decided to break it off and move across the country with no warning. I was gutted, and yeah, pretty lonely since he had moved in with me, so I was ready to spend my time with someone again. So I started with dating memberships and apps, wherever I could go that was free or didn't cost a whole paycheck.

That's where I met this guy, Jackson. Jackson messaged me first with a pretty normal greeting. "Hello, stranger. I'd love to get to know you more." I remembered it because it wasn't the desperate pleas that you normally see there. You know the ones. Where they call you "beautiful" and beg you to talk to them, and if you're lucky, maybe some kind of raunchy comment. I looked at his profile and he was definitely easy on the eyes.

In fact, he looked like my ex. Shaved head, normal build, wearing sunglasses and holding his dog. Maybe that's my toxic trait, looking for someone that reminded me of my ex, right? So I responded to him, and we began talking, and there was a lot of it.

He asked a lot of questions about me and who I was. He was more than willing to share about himself, too, and even sent me a few more pictures of himself and his pup. He asked about meeting up, but I wasn't quite ready yet. I also didn't want him to think that I was just looking for a one-night stand, which was also common on these sites. He was understanding and didn't push it, which was another win for me.

But then one night, I was having a particularly grumpy night. He texted me and was talking about a local carnival that was going on. I joked about how I hadn't been in years, and he sounded appalled. He said this one in particular was the best one held in the state, and said that I had to go. And then he offered to take me. This time I agreed.

Going to a carnival as a first date was definitely unconventional, but I liked that. I could even dress comfortably and we could just have fun and maybe even skip the awkward silent moments. We met that Saturday night at the carnival and he looked just like his pictures, so that was a good start. He hugged me when we first met and it felt so nice.

I was already in a fantastic mood, and was excited to see where the night would take us. We took a few rides, played a few games and joked about how many were still rigged, and even tried to figure out how they did it. We also sampled tons of different food, which was all fantastic.

We were walking around, waiting for a show to start, and made our way to the part of the carnival that they referred to as Oddities and Curiosities. Or something to that effect. That's where we saw a guy playing a musical instrument with his toes. There was a lady juggling swords, and then there was also a tent for a fortune teller. Yeah, call me what you want, but I'm all for that kind of stuff.

I liked tarot, crystal work, all of it. I even had a friend that I became really close to that read my tarot and my tea leaves quite often. I won't say that I necessarily believed all of it, I was a skeptic, but some things I couldn't explain away, so I felt there had to be some kind of truth to it. So when I saw her sign, I absolutely wanted to check her out and see what she might say.

and even if she had any thoughts or compatibility ideas with us. Jackson didn't have a problem with it, and he liked the idea too, so we went in. She greeted us, said that her name was "Madam Jo," and asked what we were looking for. Jackson shrugged, smiling, and asked what I or Jo would suggest. She guessed that we were on our first date, and I confirmed, smiling too.

Off to a good start, right? She said that she could do palm reading and get some compatibility, and even maybe some future readings, so that's what we agreed to. We both sat in the chair across from her and she started reading our individual palms. She started on mine, and she mentioned how she could sense that I was still recovering, or had sadness from a previous loss. She was right, too, as I was still dealing with losing my ex.

Then she read Jackson's, and that's when I started sensing a change in her. She quickly opened her eyes, and basically told him that he was holding in a lot of anger, and that he needed to confront it before he hurt somebody else that he loved. Jackson looked confused, and didn't say another word, but Joe seemed uncomfortable. Then she grabbed both of our hands, and immediately her face soured.

"No, this will never work," she said like a disapproving parent. We both looked at her confused and she continued, "You, sir, are a very dangerous man. You hurt everyone you've loved, and this will be no different." Jackson quickly pulled his hand back, his face a mix of confusion and anger. I, however, did not move, curious what she meant by this.

She continued talking about how he would hurt me, and I was running out of time to leave him. She said that she saw black and blue, all over bare skin. She held my hand with both of hers, and with fear in her eyes, she looked at me and said, Do not let this continue. Please, before it's too late. And then let go of my hand. Jackson started going off.

He asked who she was, and accused her of being in some kind of scheme set up by some other person, trying to sabotage his date. I don't remember the name, but it was a female. Maybe an ex? I never found out. But she said that she wasn't, and claimed that he told her all she needed to know. He called her crazy, and said that he never believed in this crap, and then grabbed my hand to pull me out.

I was so confused and startled by this. He pulled me out of the tent and again tried to talk about how those people were always full of hot air and just after your money. He tried laughing and lightening the mood, but it was a little harder for me to just forget it. We went to the show, but I was so distracted by the psychic, and Jackson had to ask me several times if I was okay.

After the show, he asked about doing something else there, but I told him that I was just ready to go home. He seemed to be pretty offended by this. We had seen most of the carnival already, so unless he wanted to go somewhere else, I don't know what he was expecting. He then asked, "'This doesn't have anything to do with that psychic, does it? You don't really believe in that crap, do you?' He sounded very angry and accusatory even."

and it honestly made me uncomfortable. So I just laughed and told him no, and that I was just honestly tired. It was after 10pm, and I joked that I wasn't used to being out so late, and that that was all. He calmed down and then hugged me saying that he would talk soon, and we parted ways. The whole drive home, my heart was racing.

"Fortune tellers can't really see the future, right? Was she jealous? Could she have been in on something? But his reaction to it, and his reaction to me, that was all really alarming. I knew that I was really going to have to be careful if I continued to see him. He messaged me the next day, asking how I was, and asking if I wanted to go get dinner that night.

I thought that I should give him another chance. Being we would be in public again, maybe I could see him from a different perspective and let his actions make a decision for me, not Adam Joe's. So, I agreed. We went to a local restaurant and everything was going as normal. Our conversation was fine. His attitude was fine. It was just a normal date.

It really made me loosen up, and I was starting to think that I was really being crazy, freaking out over what some stranger told me. So, by the end, I'd been very cheerful, laughing and just having a great night. By the end of the dinner, we started walking out and he followed me to my car, thinking he was just being kind and walking me to it. But then, he got uncomfortably close to me.

I think under other circumstances it may have been romantic, but something was making me nervous again. So when the conversation didn't continue, I thanked him for dinner and moved to try to unlock my car. Apparently this was the wrong decision. He once again became unglued and said, "So that's it." I looked at him confused. He started making remarks about me getting a free meal and him getting nothing in return.

I asked him what he meant, because I definitely offered to pay, but he wouldn't let me. He then made a comment about coming back to my place, and I declined. I told him as I did before we even met the first time, that I wasn't here for that, and that he was not going to get anything from me after two dates. He became furious. He started yelling, demanding that I tell him why and what was wrong with him.

As he backed up to literally scream, I jumped into my car, locking the door instantly. He ran up to my car and kicked it hard enough to shake it. He'd now gotten the attention of some people nearby, so I took the opportunity and left. I drove around for about 10 minutes before going home to make sure that he didn't find me and follow me home, and from there, I ran inside, locking the door behind me.

He tried calling several times, but I ignored them all. That didn't stop him from sending mixed messages via voicemails and texts. I just turned off my phone and went to sleep. The next day, I actually called my friend who did tarot and asked her to read a little bit about Jackson and what our future looked like together. Now, mind you, I did not tell her about Madam Jo.

At this point, I had told one person, and that was my mom. That was it. So when she told me something similar to Joe, I was pretty freaked out. I explained to her what happened at the carnival, and she agreed that I needed to end it with him, and that something dangerous was going to happen. So I did just that. I messaged him that day and told him that I didn't think it was going to work out, and just ended it there.

He sent more conflicting messages between begging me for another chance and calling me some unsavory names. Then he finished it off with a threat. I told him that I would be reporting him to the police, and he didn't respond. I didn't hear from him again, though, thankfully. But he still had me paranoid for a little while. He lived in the next county over, so while he didn't live too close, he also didn't live that far away.

I feared that I may run into him at a store, somewhere, or at a restaurant. I tried to avoid the place that we had gone to for dinner unless I was with company, in case he showed up too. I feel like I got very lucky in this situation. I don't know about his past or what he may have done, but sometimes I did think about it. I considered looking for an ex, but I feared what I may find, so I just left it alone.

All I know is that I feel like going to that carnival was one of the best and worst dates I have ever had. And I thank Madam Jo for possibly saving my life. I'm a teacher, and I have been for about 23 years now. I've taught everywhere from kindergarten to freshman year high school. From teaching such a range of kids, they've all had their pros and their cons.

The older they were, the more rebellious they were, or the more they talked back. But it was also easier to explain things to them. Younger kids tend to listen better, but then you have to keep in mind that they are younger and less experienced, so sometimes you really have to break things down, and even explain simple right and wrong scenarios. Overall, I don't think I had a favorite either way.

However, the younger kids really did say the weirdest things. Some of them were funny or nonsensical. Others were a bit more alarming. I wanted to share some of the experiences that I still very clearly remember. This occurred when I taught a kindergarten class. Our normal class routine included reading time, where, for an hour, I would read a book while they all sat around and listened.

They typically got to choose or vote on the book that they wanted, but I had just bought a story pack of six books, so I was reading one from there. I don't remember the exact story. It was one of the short stories in the first book, but there was a talking rabbit that accompanied a young child through a forest after getting lost. No, it wasn't Halas in Wonderland, but now that I think of it, maybe it was a ripoff.

Anyway, I tried to engage the kids in the story by asking questions, or letting them ask questions. So there were frequent pauses in reading time, which was fine. There was a boy named Aiden, who was always a very curious child. He asked so many questions, and I always thought that he was just a smart kid, and his curiosity, if he kept it up as he grew up, would take him far.

But the questions and comments during this reading time were a bit more morbid. He started by asking, Does Bunny die in this story? I thought it was a normal question. Some kids may have experienced death in their own pets. Maybe even relatives like grandparents. So I told him no. As I always go over stories before I read them to make sure there are no inappropriate topics in them,

Then he asked if the bunny does die, would it go to heaven? I try to steer clear of religion and class for obvious reasons that I shouldn't have to explain. So I just told him that it was a great question, but that I didn't know, and then suggested that he ask his parents. He seemed quite satisfied with the response. After the story was over, he asked, Do you have any stories where someone dies?

I was taken aback by the question, but just told him no with a raised eyebrow. Reading time finished, and we went back to our normal class curriculum afterwards. Later on, during recess, I saw Aiden sitting in the rocks. Not playing, and he seemed like he was holding his knee. He wasn't crying or looking scared, but I was worried that he had injured himself, so I approached him.

I asked him if he was okay or if he was hurt, but I noticed that his knee looked fine. But he looked deep in thought, so I asked him what he was thinking about. "I can't wait to see what my bones look like." He said this in such a calm and dreamy sounding voice, like it was a totally normal thing to say out loud. I tried asking him what he meant or why he wanted to see them,

and he just said something about how he likes to see plain bones, which is why he likes to eat chicken legs. Then he explained that looking at his knee was as close as he could get to seeing his bones. Surely it had to be innocent. Just a curious young kid, right? Either way, I tried my best to explain that he wouldn't see his own bones, because then that would be a bad thing, and I tried to offer some child-friendly skeleton book.

We had a few that went over the structure of the skeleton of humans, as well as some animals. Aiden still said some pretty creepy things like that throughout the year, but thankfully he never took any actions to actually see his bones. Well, at least not in my class. There was another kid in my class named Abigail. It was always Abigail, never Abby. She seemed okay, but just seemed to have issues with making friends.

She was always really standoffish. Watching others play, I approached her one time and asked her if she was okay and if she wanted to play with them. She said yes, but that her friend would get mad for leaving him. I smiled and told her that her friend was welcome to play too if they were out there. I began looking around, thinking that this friend must have been nearby, and possibly as equally shy as her.

but I didn't see anyone else lingering like she would, so I asked her where her friend was. She seemed to look past me and said, "'He's right there. It's the shadow man.' I stood up and quickly turned around, but there was nobody there. Before I got to ask again, she looked down at the ground and said, "'He won't let me play with the other kids. He just tells me to do bad things.'

This thing was obviously causing her problems. Whether it was her imaginary friend and she had the bad thoughts, blaming it on them, or she actually had someone or something following her around. When it comes to the paranormal, I absolutely believe in it. And I believe that kids seem to be more in tuned and sensitive to these kinds of things than we are. So I told her that, regardless of who it was, it sounded like a bully.

and that if she didn't want to do what it said, or if it made her feel uncomfortable, then she should just say no. A few days after that event, we had a storm, so recess was inside. We were all playing in the play area in the classroom, and I was at my desk, bouncing between paperwork and watching them. I happened to look up at the right time, and I saw Abigail holding a pair of scissors to the back of another girl's head,

Out of reflexes, I yelled Abigail's name, which startled all of the kids, and the one that was about to get her hair cut turned around to look at me and saw Abigail. I ran over to them and told them to continue playing, and then asked Abigail what she was doing. Her eyes just looked glossed over, and in her soft little voice she said, The shadow man told me to do it, or he would take me away to his world, where there's no sun.

Only darkness. What the hell? So I had a heart-to-heart with her, and again explained right from wrong and how she shouldn't listen to this shadow man. I ended up writing up a pretty extensive email to her parents about the situation too. They never responded back to me, but I did notice that, slowly, Abigail seemed to turn into a pretty light-hearted and playful girl.

Maybe their parents knew more about this shadow man than what I knew was there. I have one last story that I'll share for now. There was this boy named Carson, who was in the same class as Abigail, actually. That class was a handful for more reasons than just these two kids. So, Carson seemed to be able to tell the future. I know that it sounds ridiculous, but I still have troubles with it myself.

Carson would make these random comments, and I just took it as him being dramatic. For example, he made something during art time and told me that it was for his grandma. I thought it was a sweet gesture, but then he said, "'She's gonna fall and break her hip soon.' I obviously didn't hear him correctly, and thought he had just said that she had fallen, but no, he corrected me. I said something, and he clarified."

No, it hasn't happened yet, but when it does, I will be ready. Okay, a little weird, but I let it go. No point in arguing with a child. About two days or so later, his mom came and picked him up early because her mom had fallen and had to be taken to the hospital. She was worried that she wouldn't be home to get him from the bus. Okay, so grandma did end up breaking her hip.

Bizarre, but whatever. But then there were several more times where Carson would seemingly predict the future, and they came true. He mentioned their dog passing away after getting sick. He had seizures, and he died from it. He said his mom was going to get into a car crash. Someone had ran a red light and t-boned her. I became nervous talking to him, fearing that he would have a new prediction and that I would be on edge.

We had a birthday party for another kid, and while everyone was enjoying their cupcake, I walked around to make sure all the kids were doing okay, needed a napkin, threw away their trash, and so forth. I stopped by Carson's desk, asking for his trash, and saw him trying to wrap up his cupcake. I asked him what he was doing, if maybe he wasn't hungry, and he shook his head.

No, I want to share it with my dad because he's going to die at work tomorrow. That one was pretty intense. As he said it in a very matter-of-fact tone. I stayed calm and collected and while they enjoyed the little party, I emailed his mom and told her what he had said. We talked briefly as she picked him up that day about it and she said that it was definitely strange and that she had witnessed him saying similar things at home.

But she always seemed to brush it off like it was just his imagination. I tried to match that with her, not wanting her to think the teacher was crazy, but come on. Not once did he predict correctly, but multiple times. I just prayed that one wouldn't come true. And thankfully, throughout the school year, Dad never died. Hopefully that one was just his imagination.

When I remember Carson, I often wonder if he still makes predictions like that. So, there are a few kids that scared me as a grown adult. I love teaching, and still do today, but sometimes, kids can unintentionally be pretty unsettling. I just have to remember that they're kids, though. It's not like they're intentionally trying to scare me, right? I have plenty more stories about these things that kids have said or done,

I'm fairly new to your channels, so if your audience likes them, I will happily write up some more for you. I was working at this accounting firm a few years back. It was a nice little company, close-knit, and I really did enjoy working there. However, I had a great opportunity to start a small firm as a partnership with a friend of mine. They all congratulated me and were very supportive of my decision.

which made it a little easier on me. They did ask me to give them an extra week, so three weeks total, that way they could get a replacement in for me. That also meant that I would be helping with training them, which was also totally fine by me. Since I was going to be working with my friend and not a large corporation, I did have a little more flexibility.

They knew my plans for some time now, so they were already in the hiring process and going through interviews. They hired a man named Greg, and when he was introduced to me by our mutual boss, he seemed nice and well-mannered. He shook my hand, he had a warm smile, and the small talk seemed to come naturally. I thought that he felt like a good fit. But as the training went on and the days passed,

I started to notice some weird behaviors about Greg. First, he carried around a small notepad and pen everywhere. When I would show him how to use certain software, he would whip out that little pad and start to write stuff down. I assumed he was taking notes, little keypoints on things to click on, where to look for X, Y, or Z, etc.,

I was impressed by this because he seemed really engaged, and he made me confident that they had found a good replacement. But then he was taking notes in weird places, such as while he was sitting on a bench in the lounge room. People would walk by and he would watch them intently, like he was studying them and then he would write something down in his notepad. I saw him do this many times while I was in the lounge having lunch.

but then I caught him standing outside the restrooms doing the same. Both restrooms were next to each other, and they had four stalls in each. Even on lunch breaks, the restrooms weren't busy enough that you had to wait outside, especially the men's. So, it kind of stood out to me. I was at the small kitchenette, which is where the vending machines, fridge, and coffee maker were, when I saw him quickly walk in the direction of the restrooms.

Being nosy, I poked my head out to see where he was going. As suspected, he was pacing near the restrooms. The kitchenette was also next to them, so I could hear him mumbling something. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but it almost seemed like a full conversation. I could hear the upward inflections. I could make out the no, no, no, as he disagreed with himself.

I watched him point his pen up like he had just remembered something, like an "Aha!" moment. As I continued watching, Pam walked out of the restroom and she smiled at him. In return, Greg seemed like he was startled or didn't anticipate running into someone, and he sort of pulled his shoulders up and scurried away, like he'd been caught. It was really odd, and I didn't know what to think of it. The notes and mumbling continued.

He would write things down as a woman left the restroom, and if someone tried to talk to him or acknowledge his presence, he would walk off. He wasn't doing anything else, but it was still really odd, and I really wanted to know what on earth he could have been writing down. I know it was wrong of me to want to do this, but I even tried to see if I could see the notepad sitting on his desk, but he never left it alone. Ever.

It was always on him, no matter where he went, even when he went home. Other than the odd note-taking and mumbling, another thing I experienced was when I came in a little later than normal. I had a bit of a snafu at home which made me run behind, so when I got in, I went straight to my desk to set up. But as I rounded the corner, I saw Greg at my desk, gently shuffling through my items.

I didn't want to become defensive or seem suspicious, even though I had every right to. So I kept my normal chipper tone and said something like, "Morning Greg, did I forget to give you yesterday's forms?" He quickly stood up straight, made eye contact with me for only a second before looking away. I could see his eyes shifting wildly, obviously trying to come up with something. I've experienced the same thing from my eight year old.

He softly mumbled something about trying to find a pen, and walked away back to his desk. Our desks had their own little spaces with a divider between each of them. Our desks had us back to back, so I watched him walk back to his own and pull out his notepad and his pen. So, it was pretty obviously a lie. But then the question goes back to, why was he going through my desk?

My drawers were locked, because it had confidential information in it, but my desk itself mostly had personal items. A small plant, a picture of my son and husband, sticky notes and small trinkets. The stuff that you would normally see on a desk. So even if he did need a pen, they were pretty obviously sitting in the open, in my pen holder. He avoided me for most of that day afterwards.

The last event that I experienced was on the second to last day there. I was working late that night, trying to copy and import the last of my documents, my work, and data to a drive for our VP, as the next day I had to go over the last of it with her. I wanted to finish it that night, so that way I didn't have to rush and stress on my last day there. I wanted it to go smoothly.

That way the rest of my day could be a little more relaxed and I could just enjoy my last day with them. It was still kind of bittersweet for me. My desk was at the end of the row, closest to the window, by choice, so I typically didn't notice people coming and going. I also had a small desk mirror that I kept on the side for that reason. I could see people coming up from behind me because certain people liked to sneak up on me. All in fun, though.

That mirror was packed up, so I couldn't see what was going on unless I looked or heard something. I thought that I was alone. It was close to 8pm, and most people were long gone at that time, so I had music playing on my phone turned down so as to not be obnoxious with it. I guess I was pretty zoned out in my work, and the music, that I didn't notice the sighing and typing until there was a break in the music between songs.

I was curious who was still there, so I turned around and stood up to check. I could just barely see his shoulder, but it was Greg. I didn't know why he was still there, he didn't have a real project assigned to him yet, and definitely didn't have a deadline, so there was no reason for him to be there that late. Yes, it was probably more just me being nosy, but I wanted to see what he was up to.

I stood close to the divider and looked over it, being careful not to touch it and make it wiggle. Greg had his notepad sitting on his desk next to his left hand. The lights were off, so it was just the one emergency light that always stays on, but it was in the middle of the aisle, so it didn't really light up our desks. The light from his screen was doing most of the work. The only thing that I could make out on the notepad was a bunch of quickly and crudely scribbled words.

Some things were crossed out, and there were three things bulleted, but again, I couldn't quite read it. His screen, however, was in what looked like a Word document, and it was all in the same paragraph. He scrolled up, and it just seemed to go on and on. I'm pretty sure I saw at least four page breaks. I knew his work duties. I was there when they were assigned to him by our VP, because it was similar to what I was already doing.

I never had to write up any kind of long report, at least not like that in a Word document. But the kind of, I guess creepier part for me, was what else was on the screen. He would switch over to another browser and the tabs were so small that you could tell there were tons of them. And every single tab seemed like a different stock photo of a woman in professional business attire.

Women in pencil skirts and matching suit jackets. Women sitting in the chair with their legs crossed. Women smiling at the camera, arms crossed. Hair up in a bun or straight down resting on their shoulder. He would look at them like he was studying them for several seconds. Then he would mumble something and go back to the Word document. I was at a loss. What on earth was he doing? I'm not sure why, but it made me really uncomfortable.

This was definitely a professional setting. Business casual. Some ladies wore something similar, some of us leaned more onto the casual side. But regardless, why did he have all of these pictures up? And why was he focusing so hard on them? To be honest, I was too freaked out to even confront him about it. I just adjusted in my seat so I could look back and forth between my screen and towards Greg's desk.

I watched the copy progress and pleaded with it to finish up. After what felt like hours, it finally did. I had everything ready to go. My coat on, purse on my shoulder, phone in hand, ready to just eject the drive, lock my computer, and take off. I even walked around the windows just to avoid walking around him. Some of us women felt Greg was a little odd.

I shared what I had witnessed these past few weeks, and others agreed that it was weird, but we also had no explanation for his actions. My only thought at that point was I told them everything I saw and how it was strange. I was gone after that following day, so it was no longer my problem. If he didn't pay attention to what I taught him, because of the weird stuff that he was doing, or if he did something worse...

That's on them. They'd been warned. Fast forward a month or two later, I'm now in my new position, still there today actually, and I love it, but one day when I went to grab coffee, I ran into one of my old coworkers. We started chatting, when she suddenly gasped and asked me if I had heard about Greg. I said no, and what she told me really creeped me out, and confirmed some of my suspicions about him.

About two to three weeks after I left, he had been fired. One day, Greg was caught going into the women's restroom and pulling something out from under the sink. He apparently didn't check if there was anyone in the stalls, but fortunately, and unfortunately, the CFO was in there as she had been working late that day as well. She watched him pull something off and walk out, but he didn't.

She quickly followed him as he went back to his desk and was looking down, like at his lap, holding a device. She confronted him about it, and at first he denied it, as if she couldn't see him holding something, and then he finally confessed. She demanded that he give it to her, and he finally did. She tried asking what he was doing, and all that he would say was that it wasn't a camera. That's all he would say.

She told him to go home, and the next day she spoke to the powers that be, and he was, of course, fired. It walked out that same day. The co-worker was pretty close friends with the CFO, and she worked in the HR department, so she pretty much knew firsthand what had happened. The CFO said that it actually wasn't a camera, but it was an audio recorder, which I guess that's better,

I don't even want to think about what he was recording, or trying to record. It was creepy, and gross. No one knows what happened to him after that, and it creeps me out to think about. Who knows where he could be working now, and whether he's done that prior or is still trying to do it today. I guess I can only hope that that was the only time.

I live a little ways out in the woods, on a small dirt road with a few neighbors who also live on our small street. It's a quiet place, we all know each other and get along decently. Given that we host little bonfires sometimes, and invite the neighbors around to grill and have a few drinks, we often discuss things that we've seen lately in our little patch of forest.

A group of lovely deer, a mischievous raccoon, or the odd wandering bear often are topics of conversation. However, inevitably, we often end up on the subject of a mutual experience that most of us have had, with unexplainable phenomena happening around our homes. It's no secret that my woods tend to make people a bit uneasy. It's dark, it's quiet, and that tends to make people tense. I'm definitely no different.

I don't go outside at dark if I don't have to, and I get spooked at times when an animal makes a ruckus. There are some things, though, that I just can't attribute to animals. To start, I have to go all the way back to when I was 13, when I first moved onto this property. I often felt watched at night. I was terrified to sleep without the lights on.

I tried my best to ignore it, but I was honestly terrified to be outside at night or be here alone. For my 14th birthday, I decided to face my fears so I could pitch a tent outside and camp in the yard with a few good friends. One of them left in the middle of the night because they were so anxious. Another left early in the morning after barely sleeping at all.

The last friend stayed a couple extra days, but was creeped out the entire time. She claimed to have briefly seen an apparition of a pale woman with dark hair standing in our yard, and felt something touch her at night. She was truly terrified, and I could tell. When I tapped her shoulder, she startled very easily, and almost hit me out of fright. This was very abnormal for her.

I spoke to my uncle who lives next door about the woman she saw, and to my surprise he claimed to have also seen the same apparition multiple times. He wasn't even surprised when I brought it up. I moved out not long after this, but recently moved back. Since returning as an adult, I've heard several stories from my family and neighbors about weird phenomena like this,

My uncle has seen the lady, but also shadow figures, and heard some unnatural noises coming from the woods at night. As a man who has lived out here for 40 years, he's very familiar with the usual sounds of animals and nature, and he didn't think these sounds were natural. His wife has also seen shadow figures and weird masses of black energy.

She claimed to have been pushed over by an unseen force after witnessing one of these black masses of energy. She has never gone outside at night since. My grandmother claimed to have been chased by a shadow entity several years ago on this property while walking back from my uncle's. It stopped at her front door and watched her while she cried and called my aunt and uncle for help. Understandably, they said nope and told her to light some sage.

A couple neighbors have claimed to have seen similar shadow figures, as well as the apparition of the lady on occasion. I still feel watched, and I regularly cleanse my house to keep whatever it is out there as far from my home as possible. A good friend of mine, when I first moved back in, called me with concerns over a dream that she had. This was before she had ever seen or set foot on my property.

She described my house and property perfectly, and described seeing the same pale woman that multiple people now have seen. I was understandably shaken, considering she'd not once been to my home at the time, and I hadn't really discussed the weird happenings with her. She spent the night one time and refuses to do it again. My street is super creepy.

And I have come to accept that something more is here. With all the shared experiences, I can't deny that something is out there. It's been here a long time, and it seems to make itself known to anyone who spends enough time out here. I've never really bought into the whole idea of UFOs.

There are people that watch the skies for a living, and I feel like we would have a lot more information on them if it was a real and constant thing. But I'm willing to admit that maybe I've been a bit too self-absorbed on those ideas after having gone through the event that I went through.

This actually happened very recently, and it sort of shocked me out of my non-believer ways, and pushed me deeper into, maybe there is something out there, territory. I was driving home from my sister's place in rural Idaho, pretty much middle-of-nowhere territory, which really feels like a cliche at this point. It's a scenic route, barely any traffic, especially after dark.

The only light on the road is the moonlight and the stars in the sky. And, I guess, the occasional passing car, but again, that's rare. That night was a clear one, and I had my windows down enjoying the cool breeze. It was pretty much the main thing keeping me awake. Driving always makes me tired, and it was later in the evening, somewhere between the endless fields and the silhouettes of the distant mountains, my radio started...

Well, I guess, skipping. It kind of sounded like I was listening to a CD on one of those old Walkman CD players, and that the lens was dirty, if you know how that was. It would play, pause, play, pause, rinse, repeat. It did this for several moments to the point that it was starting to annoy the hell out of me. It was worse with the fact that I wasn't even listening to a CD. I was listening to my phone plugged in through an aux cable.

Yes, I still have to use an aux cable. I went ahead and pulled over to the side of the road and hid my hazard lights, deciding that I would take a moment to figure out what was going on with my music. I put the car in park and grabbed my phone from my cup holder when the inside of my car was quickly lit up by a bright blue light. It was super quick, like someone had turned on a spotlight, and I kind of jumped when it happened.

I glanced up to see what the hell was up there, lighting up the inside of my car. I saw this... thing. The best way to describe it, really. It was up in the sky, shining a light down, and then shifting it to left, then right. The craft wasn't large. It wasn't much bigger than my car, at the very least.

It was at that point that I realized that it wasn't just moving the spotlight, it was more like the craft itself was shifting to the left and to the right, zipping from point A to point B to C and so on. It wasn't a helicopter or a drone, that much was clear. It was too agile and too silent. I just sat there, and I watched this thing as it lit up random spots on the ground.

and then it once again shifted its light toward my car. I was seriously shaking, and I don't know why. It was like an instinctual reaction, like I knew that I needed to be terrified of this thing. I watched as it shifted again and then slowly started to, I guess, descend? It looked like it was getting closer to the ground.

At this point, it clicked that I needed to get a picture or video of this thing. Something to prove that this was happening. I reached down to grab my phone and fumbled with it. My hands were clammy as hell. And by the time I opened the camera app and looked back up, it was gone. I don't mean that it floated away. I mean it practically teleported. It was there. The car was lit up. I grabbed my phone and it was just gone. Just like that.

It took a split second to go from just hovering near me to somewhere out in the ether. Now, I know that not much happened here, but this was honestly enough to change me from not believing to thinking that maybe there is more out there. There is nothing on this planet that can move like this thing did. It was such sharp and quick jagged movement. I wish I could give a better description of how it looked, but the light was honestly blinding.

and all I could tell was the size of it, and like I mentioned, it wasn't much larger than my car is. I've taken this road a hundred times prior to this, and I've never seen anything like this, but I kind of hope to see it again in the future, because I want to be better prepared for it. I actually bought a dash cam, just in case it happens, so I can get footage of it. Odds are, it won't, but I'm ready.

Just in case. I want to preface this story by saying that it is several events that happened in one night, and one of them does involve an attempted essay. I ask that you let your listeners know about this, just in case they don't want to hear about it. I also want to say that with everything that happened, and all of it being in one night, some people may not believe the story, but that's on them.

This is all true when it happened to myself and my friends on a night that was supposed to be fun. Anyways, on to the story. Back in my early to mid-twenties, I was pretty reckless, and I will be the first to admit it. I had just finished my master's degree and was pretty nose down into it trying to do my best. Because my life revolved around my school, I rarely did anything outside of school and work.

So, when I finished it, and already had a promising job offer, I was ready to let loose. It started with my friends and I just hitting up their favorite clubs or going to mutual friends' places for parties. So, for New Year's, it wasn't going to be any different. In fact, we were expecting to get pretty wild that night. We planned on stopping at a nearby bar, and from there, we were planning on hopping to different ones.

and checking out any house party that we heard about or were invited to. Basically, wherever the entertainment went, we would follow. We started as a larger group. It was myself, as well as my friends Elena, Melissa, Diamond, and Serenity. And we all met up at the bar Melissa actually worked at. Melissa was working that night, so we partied there until she got off around 8:00.

Once she changed and we all had a round of shots, we left to go to one of our favorite clubs. When we arrived, we had a few more drinks. Elena didn't. She was our DD. After about an hour, though, the fun started to die down as someone in the club became a pretty annoying drunk and tried to start a fight with people.

Wanting to move on, Melissa said that she'd been invited to a party by one of her customers, so she suggested that we go check it out. That's where we went next. The party was just the type of energy that we were looking for. There were tons of people everywhere. In the yard, the living room, the kitchen, and the music could be heard throughout the house, too. People were dancing, drinking, laughing, and just overall having a great time.

Melissa introduced us to the guy that invited us over, and it was pretty obvious that they both had eyes for each other. She began talking and flirting with him, so the rest of us walked around to get drinks and enjoy our time too. At some point, I needed to use the restroom, so I thought to go and look for it myself. I walked down a hallway that had three doors, all of which were closed.

None of them looked different or had any indication if one of them were a bathroom or a bedroom, so all I could do was knock on the door and wait for a response. I knocked on the first door and got no answer, so I tried to open it, but it was locked. I went to the next door to try it, and after knocking and getting no response, I tried the door again. This time, it opened, but part of me wished that it hadn't.

When I opened it, all I saw was a mattress on the floor and a woman sitting on the edge of it, with blood all over her arms and legs. I froze in place, not knowing what to do. Who was this woman and why was she in that room? And more importantly, why was she covered in blood? To add to the creepiness, I couldn't even really tell if she was in pain or anything, because she was singing.

I can't recall what the song was, but it was some kind of nursery rhyme. I was already buzzed and not thinking straight, I'm sure, so... I just closed the door and ran back to the living room. I tried to find Melissa since she knew the guy hosting the party, and thankfully she hadn't gone far. I told her and her friend what I saw, and he just said, "'Huh, that's Mary. She thinks there are worms in her skin. Like, it was just a completely normal thing.'"

There was a lot of blood, and it really freaked me out. It definitely was not the vibe that I wanted that night, so I was ready to leave. I went up to Elena and asked her about leaving, and she agreed. We started gathering everyone up, but Melissa said that she was wanting to stay. No surprise to the rest of us though, so we said goodbye and the four of us headed to another bar to check out.

I was pretty familiar with this bar, so once we arrived, the atmosphere immediately drew me in and we were all drinking and dancing. There were even two guys that came over and bought us some drinks. They were both attractive, and I would be lying if I said that I didn't like the attention that I was getting. I was single and had been for about a year, so it was nice.

After some time, maybe about an hour or so, the guys that had been with us invited us back to their place for the countdown. It was probably around 11.30 or so, and really liking the guys, Diamond and I were wanting to go too. Unfortunately, Elena had started drinking, so she couldn't drive anymore, and Serenity did have a guy at home who was also watching their kid, giving her this night out.

So, of course, she wasn't interested in hanging out with a bunch of random guys. Made sense to us. So we all agreed that Elena and Serenity would stay where they were and get a ride home later, and that Diamond and I would go with the guys, possibly meeting up later that night. So the four of us hopped into one of the guys' cars and headed back to their place. Again, I know we were being stupid for this, and we all understand that now.

but being under the influence, we were not making the best decisions. However, once we arrived and went in, we started sobering up again. Maybe there wasn't going to be a full-blown party there, but what we didn't expect was the house to look the way it did. It was disgusting. There was trash all over the floor, from wrappers to actual to-go food containers. Dirty dishes and clothes everywhere, and it smelled awful.

I looked over at Diamond and I knew that she was feeling the same way. The guy that had been dancing with me, call him Brett, turned on an old stereo nearby, and the other guy, Zack, was moving the trash off of the dirty old couch, saying that we could have a seat. Neither of us wanted to sit down on that couch, nor even touch anything for that matter, so we hesitantly made our way into the room and away from the front door.

We both stood there swaying a bit to the music. We wanted to have fun, but we were not feeling it anymore, and I was definitely on edge. But as the time passed, the guys' intentions became crystal clear. They would sit on the couch and pull us over to them, making certain suggestions. We would go from declining their advances to even trying to avoid their grabs at our hips, but it seemed to only make them angry.

That is when they became more aggressive, and insisted that we give them what they wanted. But this was not what I wanted, nor was it what I was here for. Granted, I can't speak for Diamond, but judging by the look on her face, the feeling was mutual. I still tried to politely decline, and Diamond was a bit more aggressive, saying that she was not interested, and then said that if they didn't stop, that we were just going to leave.

This apparently did not sit well with them, and they tried to grab us, which caused us both to fight back. After a bit of a struggle, Brett tried to wrap his arm around my neck, so I bit him. He let go, which caused Zack to be distracted, so Diamond was able to get away from him too. I grabbed her by the arm, and we both ran out of the house. We kept walking down the street, becoming paranoid every time we saw a car, but no one ever stopped.

We ended up coming across a gas station and we went inside thinking that we were safe being around others and in the view of cameras. From there I used my phone to get an Uber thinking that we could go back to Elena and Serenity and probably call it a night after that. This night was not going as planned and we even missed the countdown because of the whole ordeal. Once the Uber arrived, we both got in and the guy driving had to be close to our age.

He looked pretty young, but was very friendly. He asked us how our night had been and we briefly explained the hell that we'd experienced. He laughed with us and expressed how crazy it sounded, and at that moment, I felt like we could breathe again. At one point, our driver started slowing down as he reached a red light, but it switched back to green so he started to speed back up again, and then we saw a car flying at us on the right.

and the last thing I remember was screaming. I woke up to Diamond leaning on me unconscious, and then I could hear a man's voice shouting for us. It was our driver. I finally realized where I was. I was in the car that was now on its side, and the driver was trying to wake us up and pull us out. Shortly after, I heard sirens and other people talking. Several people helped pull me out, and finally, after we pulled Diamond out, she woke up.

I was so afraid that she was dead as she was unresponsive. Thankfully, all three of us did survive with minor injuries. I had a concussion, Diamond had a broken rib or two, and our Uber driver, Kyle, I do remember his name, was practically unscathed, other than some cuts and bruises. He checked in on both of us in the hospital, and apologized that it happened, but neither of us blamed him.

It was far from his fault. In fact, we apologized because he was in the situation because he'd picked us up. The driver of the other car was drunk and obviously ran a red light, so they got charged pretty heavily. The night ended there for us, for obvious reasons. But the rest of our friends all turned out okay and met us at the hospital too.

I had my fill of crazy partying that night, and I told myself that I would never do that again. And so far, I've stuck to that. I may still go out, but I stick with my friends, and I don't hop around, nor do I go home with strange men. This was literally the most eventful and probably worst night of my life, and it's safe to say that everything that happened that night was very sobering.

And I will never forget it. I don't mean to start this story dramatically, but there is something universally unsettling about realizing a person you work with every day may have a darker side. My story centers around a man that I used to work with, whom I'm going to refer to as Marcus. That's not his name. In fact, I'm not using any real names in this story for several reasons.

Marcus was my boss. He was a diligent man, albeit slightly eccentric. He worked as a head librarian above myself and a few other people in my hometown. And the whole time that I knew him, I honestly respected him and thought that he was a decent guy. I'm not a good judge of character, apparently. This whole thing started in my third month of working at the library.

I was still getting used to their stack system and how the library was formatted. The whole thing was kind of confusing, but I was getting there. My favorite part of working at the library was working with the kids that used it to do schoolwork and research. I guess I should add that this was the early 2000s, so before everyone and their brother had a smartphone and unfettered internet access.

So when kids would come in to look for information on fossils or history projects, I loved helping them. At the time, I was considering becoming a teacher, but just hadn't yet gone through the schooling, so this was a good experience. On that morning, Marcus was having me help him reorganize the archive section of the library, which was the small room in the very back of the library. It was its own separate room with a door near the rear exit.

This was where old newspapers and periodicals were kept, if there are people out there that don't know the purpose of the archives. As we worked, Marcus and I were just chatting it up, and we somehow got on the topic of children. I think it's because I had mentioned wanting to be a teacher, and said that I loved working with kids. While I was talking about it, Marcus seemed kind of uncomfortable about the whole conversation-

I could see his face, and without a better description, he looked like he had to go to the bathroom but was holding it in. I asked him if he was okay, and he laughed and said that he was. I said that he was looking a bit pale, and he mentioned that his stomach was hurting and he excused himself. I told him that I wouldn't go anywhere and just figured something was physically wrong with him.

Now, there may be some red flags going up here, but at the time it was just weird behavior by someone I had worked with for three months. Odd, but nothing more than that. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later where things really happened. I had completely forgotten about that day. It was practically a non-event. It was a pretty normal day, really. Nothing was going on, and there were only a few kids in the library.

Once again, Marcus and I were doing a bit more of the reorganization of the archives, which was a small project that we had been working on here and there. It wasn't really a critical project for us. While we were fixing things up, a girl walked into the room with a notebook in her arms. She looked to be around 11 years old or so. I had seen her in the library before a few times, so I wasn't surprised to see her,

minus the strangeness of a kid being in the archive section. When she walked in, Marcus stopped doing what he was doing and walked over to her, asking if she needed help with something. The way they talked, it seemed like he knew her and she knew him. She was comfortable enough to talk to him about a project that she was working on for school. I actually remember the project, too.

She was supposed to look up newspaper articles for her birthday from 20 years before she was born, and write up anything that happened that day in that year. It seemed like a pretty neat project, just to get kids associated with researching historical events and whatnot. She told Marcus what she needed to do, and I mentioned that I could help her while he did the reorg, if he wanted. But when I said that, I saw his face drop.

almost like he was disappointed that I had said that. He then mentioned that he would help her, and walked over to one of the cabinets. After a few moments of them looking and me doing what I was doing, Marcus hollered over to me and asked me if I could go to the front to see if the front desk needed help with putting stuff away.

It was a bit of an odd ask. They were well-staffed, and I didn't see any reason for me to do it, but he was my boss. And I just said, alright, and that I would be right back in a few moments. Again, at the time, it seemed like no big deal, but looking back, it was a strange thing for him to ask me to do at that exact moment. I went up to the front and talked to the clerk, asking if they had anything they needed help with.

The two people up there kind of glanced around like they were seeing if there was any extra work, but they said that they had things under control. I said okay and decided to stop at the restroom really quick before going back, figuring I would take the moment to myself since he had sent me to the front. After I finished up there, I went back to the archive room to let Marcus know that they were all good up front, but when I got to the archive room, it was empty.

No Marcus, no girl. The table in the center of the room still had her notebooks on it, with one of the older newspaper scans sitting on the table as well. For literally no reason, I immediately had a really bad feeling about this. I had no reason to suspect Marcus of doing anything, but my gut was telling me that he had. I stepped out of the archive room, and immediately, it got worse.

The back door to the library has a bit of an issue with sticking. If you didn't push or pull it all the way shut, it wouldn't close. And I saw that the back door was cracked open, like it had been used and not shut properly. I pushed it open and looked out into the parking lot, just in time to see Marcus back out of his spot and pull out of the parking lot.

Worse yet, I could see the girl he was talking to sitting in his back seat, looking scared and confused. I immediately ran back into the library and to the front desk, yelling that they needed to call 911 and that Marcus had just kidnapped a child.

They both looked at me like I was insane, but I told them that there was a girl in the archives room before he sent me to the front earlier, and that I had just seen him pull away with her in his back seat. The older of the two librarians said that there was probably some sort of logical explanation, but the other one, a girl about my age, understood the gravity of the situation.

She grabbed the phone and called 911, handing it to me and then saying that she was going to go check the security camera to see if she could see it happening. I explained to the dispatcher what had happened, telling her that my boss, Marcus, had potentially just kidnapped a young girl from the library, and that I saw him drive away with her in his car, and that she looked scared.

I described his car, color, make and model, and told them what I recalled of his license plate, which was just the first three numbers. They said that they would send the police there immediately and to lock the library down if possible. I'm sure that was just standard procedure, just in case, but they asked us to not let anyone else in, and to ask others to stay in the building.

The cops showed up and asked me to talk with them about the situation, and mentioned that they had several officers on the lookout for his car in town, and that they would find him. I explained the whole thing to them as I knew it, and the other librarian showed them the footage, which was when I first saw it too. There, on grainy early 2000 security footage...

Was Marcus holding this girl's hand and leading her out of the room? And out the back door? Only a couple of moments before I returned. This was obvious confirmation that he had kidnapped this girl, and that was likely why he had sent me away. He needed the opportunity. To wrap this story up, because I know it's gone on for a while, the Bolo was successful, and they found his car.

He was driving on the outskirts of town towards a highway, and they were able to get him stopped in a somewhat forceful manner. The girl was unharmed, but was obviously very scared and very confused as to what was happening. He said that he was taking her home, but she told the officers that he said he was going to help her with her school project. She said that he had told her that what she was looking for was in a box in his car, and

and then that he had shoved her in the back seat and took off as I walked out and saw it happen. He was arrested, and her parents were called to the library, which was another unfortunate part of the story. Her parents had dropped her off and said they would be back later, so she was there alone.

This wasn't an uncommon thing, though. A lot of parents used to drop their kids off while they went to work, basically using the library as a free babysitter because it was "safe enough." That stopped pretty much immediately, and the library implemented a rule that all children under 16 had to have an adult with them, because of this event.

I don't have any proof of this, but I did hear of rumors that the police went through Marcus' apartment, and they found some rather disgusting things on his computer hard drive. Things I won't explain here, which tells me that he had very ill intent with that girl. In the end, I'm glad that she was unharmed because God only knows what could have happened to her had he not been stopped.

I worked for a lawn and landscaping company for several years. I made some mistakes as a young adult, causing me to get my GED late, so finding a good paying job in my 20s was difficult. But this company took me in, and I really felt like they gave me a second chance, and I will always be grateful for them.

However, we still worked with the public, so we definitely got a fair share of weird and memorable customers. This is a story about one of them named Larry. Larry was a long-time customer that we remembered because of one of his weird requests. He claimed to be satisfied with our services, except he wanted us to use his Weed Whacker only.

He claimed that the wiring he used was less damaging to his grass. I don't think our boss believed it, but it was cheaper than the stuff that we used, so he actually bought some that he installed on a few machines to specifically use at his place. Once he showed him, he seemed satisfied, and we started using our own equipment.

We had a policy that we couldn't use a customer's equipment for safety reasons, so at least the owner was willing to work with the customer. Other than that specific demand, Larry was an alright guy. He was friendly enough to all of us, but also stayed out of our way, and his wife was old-fashioned and tried to offer us drinks all the time. Very kind people.

They would occasionally have yard games or kids toys in the yard. Typically they picked those up before we got there, but if we did find some, Larry just asked us to toss them in a small shed in the back. No big deal. I had two very young kids of my own at the time, and I knew that you could only ask them to do something so many times before you had to just do it yourself, or possibly forget it. On this day, we started working on the yard.

when I spotted a few toys in the back. I picked them up and, per the norm, I started walking them over to the shed. As I stood in front of the shed before I opened it, I noticed that it now had a padlock on it. However, it was only on the one handle and obviously unlocked. I noticed it because Larry never had a lock on the door before.

I just assumed that maybe he had issues with trespassers, or was worried about the kids getting in there by themselves. It was one of those moments that I noticed, didn't think much of it because it wasn't any of my business anyways, and proceeded to open the door. But once I entered the shed, I was provided with a different sight. It was definitely a makeshift lab, but not for drugs, but explosives.

I saw wiring, weird pipe pieces, metal scraps, and several packages of powder and bottles of liquids. What the hell was I looking at? Not to mention, I had already had a run-in with the law, and I knew that I wanted no part of any of this. So, I calmed myself, tossed the toy in the shed, and walked out, just humming a song. I walked in humming and was trying to stay calm.

That all nearly crumbled when I saw Larry standing right outside the shed. He looked pissed. I wasn't expecting him to be standing there, so it made me jump. I tried to laugh it off, but he asked me what I was doing in there. I just calmly pointed out the items in the yard that I was putting away. He tried to argue with me that it was locked, but I pointed out the lock on the handle and explained that it was already unlocked and open. I also tried to point out that this is what we had always done.

Literally, per his instructions. His demeanor changed. It reminded me of the calm but obviously upset voice a parent would use on their child when they wanted them to admit something they did. I'm familiar with it because of my own parents and how I use it on my own kids. He asked me what all I saw in the shed. We both knew the answer to this. He knew what I saw.

And I took this as him trying to intimidate or threaten me. I tried to think fast to get myself out of the situation and back to my job, so I could never think about it again. So I tried to play dumb. I acted kind of excited about it. "What, with the chemicals? Yeah, it looks like you're making your own fertilizer, right?" "I figured you would. Your lawn is a lot greener than the rest of the block."

I then tried to BS something about using a certain enzyme to help with growth, with the purpose of boring him, I hoped. I was really trying to look naive, and to my surprise, it seemed to work. His shoulders dropped, and his eyes softened. He no longer looked on the defensive, so I thought I was successful.

He told me that that was correct, thanked me for my advice, apologized about the toys, and then dismissed me to get back to work. I started walking away and finished my work, but the rest of the time there I felt his eyes on me. I avoided talking to anyone that I worked with unless it was loud enough for him to hear, so he knew that I wasn't talking about him.

I continued working or would make jokes, hoping to keep him off of my back too, but he still watched me, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. As we left, Larry was back to being his normal friendly self, and when we were all back at the shop or home, I was still thinking about what I saw. I knew there had to be something bad going on in that shed.

I contemplated on what I could do, if anything, for a few days. I also tried to be reasonable. Maybe all the chemicals were there for a completely harmless reason, but I really couldn't think of any. I knew what some of the things were that I saw. I won't name them here for obvious reasons, but from what I knew of them, there was not a good reason to have them. It didn't make sense. And knowing he had at least one child and a wife...

I knew I needed to tell someone. This was long enough ago that I drove to a gas station, used a payphone on the side of the building, and left an anonymous tip. I told them that I was a neighbor, but I didn't want to give my name, and I explained what I saw in his shed. I told them how they seemed very suspicious and secretive about the shed, and that I was worried about the chemicals that he stored in there.

I think it may have helped that we were in a drought, so the risk of a fire was pretty high. I felt awful afterwards. I worried that maybe I was just overreacting. I worried that they would find out it was me, and then I would be punished. By authorities? By Larry? By my work? My work and my little family was all I had at the time, so I couldn't afford to lose my job.

But I also couldn't just keep my head down, especially if I would eventually have to go back there. Luckily, I didn't have to do that. It was about two weeks later that it was finally on the news, not to mention talked about at my work. Police went to Larry's home and said that they were given a tip that they were required to follow up on. The thing is, at first, it was just a request.

They could have been told to come back with a warrant, but part of the reason that it escalated and was in the news was because Larry immediately went on the defensive. He apparently refused to even let them in the house, ended up locking himself inside the shed, and threatened to end his own life. When they finally got to him, they found all the same things that I saw and confirmed my suspicions.

Something had happened with Larry's job. It wasn't specified, but he was angry about it. He planned on blowing the office up and going out with it. Thankfully, none of that occurred. The news said that he was apprehended beforehand and was being tried for a bunch of things. I don't remember the exact outcome, but I do know that they were trying to go with an insanity defense.

I was honestly shocked to find out what happened as I followed the story. Larry was such a nice guy in the beginning. He knew how things worked. He talked to all of us like we were friends. And then, something happened to him, and I witnessed the beginnings of it. Then it all spiraled downward for him. Part of me still feels bad for calling it in, but at the same time, I have to remember that I could have saved so many lives.

And that's what I stick with. That's what I choose to hold on to. And I instill in my kids, now in their teen years, that if you see something, say something. Tell someone you trust because you don't want to live with the regrets of not doing anything after it's too late. Hi there. This was something that happened to me back when I was going on 15 years old.

It all seemed to happen pretty fast, but within those two days, I felt a lot of emotion and carried even more guilt and trauma afterwards. However, I feel like it's important to talk about in order to educate others of online safety.

I am a middle child, with an older brother that had already moved out of home, an older sister that, at the time of this event, was a senior and was about to graduate from high school, and then I have younger twin brothers. The following is going to be describing my mental state at that time. I understand that it wasn't the truth now, as I am an adult and parent myself, but it's how I felt at the time.

My brother was in college, so my parents did a lot of stuff to get him set up in his dorm. With my sister graduating soon, they were preoccupied with her, getting her ready for it, trying to schedule a graduation party and everything that involved. Then, my younger brothers were still infants, so of course, they took up a lot of my parents' time and attention too.

So in my eyes, I felt as if they had forgotten about me, or maybe just didn't require their attention when in fact it was the opposite. I struggled with some of my school stuff, I had friend and teacher problems. There were days that I may have been picked on at school and just didn't feel good enough, but my parents didn't seem to care, or were too preoccupied to care.

So because of the distance between us and them taking a "you're independent now and don't need us" stance, I dedicated my time to the internet. I played games with my friends, we would go to different chat rooms or just share random videos. And when my friends weren't available, I would browse chat rooms in other public places. Don't worry, you don't have to tell me how stupid that was as a 15 year old.

While I was in the chat rooms, I would share quotes to my favorite songs, especially if they expressed how I was feeling. That's how I met Angel, or at least that was the name that he gave me. I had posted the lyrics to a song and he had finished them. We started talking from there about the bands that we liked, and the rest was history. We seemed to have a lot in common. He explained how he was a middle child of three.

He felt similar to how I felt, and we shared a lot of interests and hobbies. He admitted that he was 17 though, and that he lived a couple states over. I knew Stranger Danger was still a thing, so I only gave him my nickname that my close friends used, not my real name, and just gave the state that I lived in. He never tried to push the subject of personal info, and I appreciated that.

He just listened to anything that I had to say or complain about, and would try to comfort me. Over the next few weeks, I grew to love coming home and talking to him about my day. We both seemed to be getting more comfortable with each other, and when he said he cared about me, I fell for it. I had never been in a relationship before, so I was starting to feel like that was it. So, I told him my real name.

and I even added him on MySpace. Of course, when that happened, we knew what each other looked like. He looked exactly as he described. Dark, shorter hair with thin black glasses. He was cute, and probably more so because the way that he treated and cared for me. He didn't even have many friends on MySpace, which made sense, because he explained how he was a bit of a loner and didn't have many friends in real life.

But what really did it for me was when he started saying how pretty I was. He said that he saved my pictures so that he could look at them whenever he wanted, and how much he could not stop thinking about me. So, when he officially asked me out soon after, I accepted. Now I was in my first relationship, and since we couldn't even meet up, I didn't really know how we would handle it.

Life was pretty much the same, except we had pet names and exchanged "I love you's". We also started making plans together, and he said that once he graduated high school, he was going to get his own place, as he was currently living at home with his mom, and that way I could move in with him when I graduated too. I loved it. The idea of being an adult away from a loveless family and having my own place sounded like a dream.

An angel was going to make it come true, so I did everything that I could to make sure nothing stood in the way of those goals. Unfortunately, some things happened that were out of my control. As mentioned before, my friends and I were far from popular, so we were often bullied. However, I usually just let it go and just dealt with it. Until one girl said something that set me off, and I hit her.

I hit her hard enough to make her fall back, and I just walked away, but she jumped on my back and made the fight bigger and attracted attention. We were both given in-school suspension, which just meant that we had to sit in the same room for eight hours instead of going to each individual class. We even had to eat lunch in that room, but my parents' punishment was just as bad to a 15-year-old me. I was grounded for two weeks."

I couldn't leave the house, except for school, obviously. No phone and no extra fun things. They wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain what led to the fight, only that what I did was wrong and that I was smarter than that and so on. So, I was confined to my room for those two weeks. However, my computer was a large desktop.

It used to be my grandma's and she gave it to me, so my parents had no intentions of lugging it out of my room. So I at least had access to that. They also knew that I used it for schoolwork, so that's probably why I was allowed to use it. But being the person I was, I took it as a personal attack, and I unloaded on Angel about what had happened. To my surprise, he was enraged for me.

He said my parents should have stuck up with me because I did it to protect myself. It only confirmed my feelings more about how my parents didn't care, and how much Angel did. That's when Angel came up with the idea of me moving in with him now. I laughed at it, as if that would ever happen, or as if my parents would ever allow it, especially now. But he convinced me that I didn't need their approval.

He explained how, at the age of 15, I was old enough to choose where I live, and I could even choose to continue going to school or drop out if I wanted to. But he said I could just go to the high school that he was going to. And, to be honest, I loved the idea. I wanted to be close to him and far away from my uncaring parents, so with him adding a few more pros to the list, I finally agreed.

He said that he had a car and a license, and agreed to pick me up, but it would take a few days for him to get there, so I continued life as normal, as he instructed, so as to not alert anyone. I did tell a few of my friends about Angel previously, so all I told them was that I might get to meet him soon, and would message them about it when I did.

Angel emailed me one night saying that he was in the state, and we planned for him to pick me up at school the next morning, as I waited for the bus to school. My sister drove herself, but I told her that I wanted to take the bus that day. Sometimes I did, especially when I was in a bad mood, so she didn't think anything of it, I'm sure. My dad was gone by 6am, and my mom left with my brothers before me to take them to daycare and go to work.

I was typically the last one home when I took the bus, so it worked out. I grabbed my two bags that I had packed with my clothing and some of the things that were important to me and waited in the driveway with them. Then, the moment I had been waiting for since we started dating, Angel pulled into our driveway. I was overwhelmingly nervous and excited to finally meet him in person, but then it all came crashing down.

The man that got out of the car was almost unrecognizable. He was far older than his picture. What hair he did have was black, but he was practically bald. He was overweight and wearing what I referred to as large grandpa glasses. I thought, "What the heck? Is this angel's dad?" But when he spoke and called me his pet name, I knew what had happened.

I asked him why he looked so different, and he just acted like it was a small difference. He said that picture was a year old and that he had gained some weight, but it was still him. He even seemed embarrassed at first and apologized, but his voice was very soft and kind the whole time, which just reminded me of the angel that I knew. I was still nervous about it, but I figured that I'd come this far that I had to go through with it.

So he helped me put my bags in the car, and I got in the passenger seat and looked at the house one last time. But soon after, everything would come crashing down further, and I would realize my mistakes. Angel said that we would stop at a hotel for the night, and then we would be back at his home the next day. I was still nervous and shy, so I talked very little, but he continued to try and communicate with me.

The hotel that we stayed at was shady at best. We got in and there was one bed, and it wasn't long before he made his advances. Like I said, I had never been in a relationship, so the thought of doing something like that was overwhelming for me. I denied his advances and that only angered him. He practically threw a tantrum, punching and throwing things, until he finally passed out.

He demanded that I at least sleep in the bed with him, as I wouldn't leave the armchair, and I agreed, hoping to calm him down. I laid there until I knew that he was hard out, based on his drooling and snoring, and slowly got out of the bed. I knew that this was wrong. I knew who he was was a lie, and he was not the person I was led to believe.

and I knew that if I didn't get out of this somehow, I was going to be in a lot of danger. So I turned the TV up, hoping to mask any sounds that I made, left the room, and headed to the lobby. I remember the person at the front desk at first looking mean when we arrived, but I now believe he was suspicious of the grown man, checking into a hotel with a child.

I told him that I needed to use the phone to call my mom, and I remember his face softening and asking if I knew that man. I told him no, and he immediately ushered me to the back office and gave me a phone. What I didn't know at the time was that he had already called the police. So, obviously, I'm okay now. My parents answered when I called in tears to hear my voice.

Angel was arrested that night and questioned, and I got to stay in some children's room at the police station overnight. It was nicer than the hotel, at least. My parents picked me up the next day, and when I was expecting to be scolded and grounded longer, they hugged me like they had never hugged me before, and cried when they saw me. They of course knew that something was wrong when the school said I was absent, but that I wasn't home either.

I told them everything that happened and even explained why I did it. And they explained that I was wrong and that they never stopped loving me and so forth. I realized I was wrong, and I learned that I needed to be more open about my feelings so that they knew what was wrong and what they could do to help. Angel obviously wasn't his real name, and he was not 17. He was actually in his 30s.

He was charged, and he went to prison, which is why I won't share my location as I don't want to be associated with this any more than this story, but there you have it. Even at the young age of 15, I was catfished before I even knew what that meant. I absolutely learned my lesson, and realized it could have been a lot worse.

I stress internet safety to my nieces and nephews all the time, and will do the same with my own children when they are old enough to venture onto the internet alone. When I was a kid, I used to love playing in the snow. In fact, I had always been a very active kid, always wanting to play outside and explore every nook and cranny I could find out there.

But there was just something about snow days that were magical to my simple child self. Sure, you got to stay home from school, but it was more to me than that. I got to play outside all day with my friends without homework getting in the way. I was an only child. My dad worked a normal 9-5 job and my mom worked from home, but just stayed in her office most of the day.

So, if I had a snow day or some random unexpected day off, I basically had to leave her alone until we had lunch or something. So, being expected to keep myself entertained didn't always work out. Thankfully, I had a few friends that lived in the neighborhood and my mom was more than willing to let me go hang out with them on those days off. Our snow days would typically consist of building a decent sized snowman.

We usually only dressed him up with the things that we found around the yard, or nothing at all, because we would then use it for target practice. We would throw snowballs or rocks at it, and then we would throw them at each other and plenty of other fun things like that. The story took place during one of those snow days. My friends and I had all been trying to build a makeshift snow fort. I had walked down to Andy's house, which is where we met up,

From there, Andy, Travis, Jackson, and I walked to the corner to hang out at what we referred to as our club. There used to be an old convenience store located there, but it burned down several years prior to this event. When that happened, they bulldozed what was left of the building and just left the concrete parking lot empty, with nothing ever being built there. This became the best blank canvas when it snowed, and we loved it.

This is where we would end up hanging out a lot. We pretty much knew the people in the neighborhood, so sometimes people would drive by and honk and wave at us and just carry on. It wasn't a secret or anything. Our parents knew that we went there too. So this was where we started building a few snowman guards in the front, and then we started building our walls in the back. It had been a really good snowfall with plenty more expected, so we got a little in over our heads.

We wanted to try and build walls on at least three sides of the concrete and try to make it as close to an enclosed place as we could. However, we were still kids and didn't quite understand the purpose of not having walls crooked or having supports to help hold them up, so it fell at times. But we were still determined. While we were working on this, there was one guy that we saw walking down the street, but he didn't really stand out at all.

He had on a long black coat that went past his knees. He was wearing sunglasses and a fedora as well, and he was wrapped up in a long dark red scarf. To me, he just looked like some businessman, but like others had done, he stopped and stared at us for some time. We waved at him, and he didn't wave back, keeping his hands in his pockets. So we just continued playing.

Shortly after, I looked up, still feeling like we were being watched, and I saw the guy was still standing there. He had walked to the corner and hit the button to cross, as I heard the beep, but I guess he never walked. It was pretty obvious at this point that he was just watching us. Being a kid though, I didn't know if it even meant anything, and he wasn't doing anything other than just standing there, so I tried to just ignore him.

We all once again helped out, and before I knew it, I had forgotten about the guy, and when I looked a while later, he was gone. We'd been out there for most of the day, and were told that we needed to be home before sundown, so when the sky started turning pink and orange, we knew it was about time to go. All of us were starting to feel a bit hungry anyways.

We began our trek back home, but right before we got to Andy's house, I realized I left my gloves back at the fort. I had taken them off because they were covered in snow and were no longer keeping my hands warm. They were also new, and I knew that my mom would kill me if I left them, and possibly lost them, so I had to turn around. I told my friends to go on ahead and that I would go by myself, not wanting anyone else to get in trouble for my mistake.

I thought that I would just walk back down there, grab them real quick and head back. No big deal. I got back to our spot, grabbed my gloves and then spotted part of our wall that looked like it was going to collapse. We had spent so much time on it that I didn't want it to fall, so I took a moment to try and pack more snow into it. As I did this, I started getting that feeling of being watched again.

It reminded me of staying at Andy's and having his little brother always peeking into the room, so I started to look around. To my surprise and curiosity, it was the man from before, in the long coat, standing at the corner and once again staring at me. This time, the man waved at me first, and being taught manners, I waved back. The man smiled and began walking towards me and, for some unexplained reason,

I started to get this feeling like something was wrong, like I was in trouble. I stood up and started walking towards the street to leave, pretending like I didn't see him walking towards me, but then he shouted at me which made me stop. It was one of those times where, as a kid, they were an adult, so I felt like I needed to listen to them.

My parents did instill stranger danger in me, and I knew not to go with strangers or whatever, but I still felt like I had to listen to what they had to say. I stopped in my place, turning back around to face them as they approached me, and he began talking to me. "'Hey there, sweetie. Did you and your friends build that wall all by yourself?' He talked to me like I was a small child, not like you would to a twelve-year-old boy."

and the way he called me sweetie just felt off to me. I nodded, simply saying yes when he stood up straight, putting his hands on his hips and said that it was very impressive of us. Then, he asked if I needed a ride home. I thought this was a weird question because every time we saw him, he was walking. He hadn't been in a car.

Regardless, I knew not to accept a ride from a stranger, so I told him no, and said that I lived right up the street, and then pointed to Andy's house. I was thinking he would leave me alone if he saw that my house was in clear view from where we were. Unfortunately, it did not, and he made a comment that sounded more like a threat. Well, you never know what could happen to a little girl walking alone by herself. I didn't like the way that he said that.

And also, I wasn't a girl. I did have longer hair as my parents let me choose what I wanted to do with it, and with my hat on, I suppose someone could have mistaken me for a girl. I told him that I was a boy, probably sounding a bit offended at the time, and he just had this evil-looking grin on his face the whole time. It again made me feel really uncomfortable, so I just said that I needed to get home and continued walking.

I looked over my shoulder for a moment and saw the guy standing still, watching me walk off. The weird vibes he was giving would not let up, and my fight or flight started kicking in, making me constantly look back. Thankfully I did, because the guy started walking behind me, following me, and obviously catching up.

Something in my head told me that I needed to run, so after stopping for a brief second to turn like I was going to cross the street, I then took off running towards Andy's house. I could hear his feet shuffling behind me, obviously running with me. I started screaming, saying anything that I could to get someone's attention, or maybe get him to leave me alone. I shouted things like, ''Leave me alone! I don't know you!'' and ''Somebody help!''

I finally reached Andy's door and, instead of knocking as I normally would, I immediately tried the door. And thankfully it was still unlocked, so I ran inside. I saw Andy sitting on the couch and his mom came out of the kitchen with a concerned look on her face. I quickly tried to tell them about the man that had followed me there and Andy's mom yelled for his dad.

When he came out, I relayed what had happened to him as well and he immediately rushed outside looking for the guy. Andy's mom called the cops, and my parents as well, to let them know what was going on. When the cops showed up, I explained what happened, and then Andy and I gave them a description of the same man to confirm and they went out to look for him. My parents showed up as well, not willing to let me walk home, of course, and we waited for the cops to come back.

Unfortunately, they never saw the guy again, so we went home. This also ruined some of our independence for a while. We weren't allowed to go anywhere alone. We weren't allowed to go down to our little spot, and I wasn't allowed to walk to Andy's for a long time. They would drop me off and pick me up, or only allow me to walk if there was someone with me. Like, if all of us boys were together.

They took stuff like that very seriously in our neighborhood, which was a good thing. A lot of neighbors would look out for us and strangers and immediately report it, especially after this event. I never did see that guy again, which is great, but I just hope that he was never successful with offering that ride. Or even better, hopefully he was caught somewhere else before he could offer one. That man emanated evil.

and I could tell that there was nothing good to come out of that situation. So, I used to be super skeptical when it came to paranormal or supernatural stuff, a hardened non-believer of anything that wasn't right in front of my eyes on the regular. Obviously, that's not the case anymore, and I have a story to tell you that explains why I changed my perspective. I used to work for a rental company.

I was contracted with them as a handyman doing basic fix-it work for their tenants. The company was a realty company that managed a few houses, some apartments and duplexes, things like that. It was a great paying job being in a small town and all, and most of the tenants were great people that were just happy to see me.

This specific job that I got called on was a minor electrical issue at an old house that they were renting out on the edge of town. It was an older house, two-story, really nice on the outside. I knocked on the door and an older gentleman greeted me with a bit of a scowl asking what I wanted. When I told him I was there to look at the electrical issue, his whole demeanor changed, and he welcomed me in.

He explained that he was having issues with one of the lights in the attic, and that it would flicker every time the lights were on up there, but that he had changed the bulb and it didn't seem to fix the issue. He even said that he put in an LED, thinking that it was an issue with the bulbs. I told him I would go take a look, and then see if I could fix it, or if we needed to get a full-on electrician. I went up to the attic, and sure enough, he was right.

There wasn't much room among the boxes, but I got into the attic, set up my stepladder and checked out the housing where the flickering bulb was. It's not really important to the story, but I did find an issue with one of the wires that was an easy fix, so I got to work splicing and capping. As I was doing so, I heard someone say something behind me. Thinking it was the old man, I shouted back, "Just a moment, I think I actually found the issue."

but when I went back to work, I heard it again. This time it was more a whisper than someone speaking regularly. I paused to listen to it, and it seriously sounded like someone was whispering in a different language. It was one dominant voice going on, and it sounded like it was really close to me. It was creepy, but I just shook it off, thinking I was maybe hearing the TV downstairs,

or just getting freaked out at the fact that I was standing in a dark, creepy, crammed attic. I finished replacing the wire and screwed the housing back into the ceiling. When I dropped my screwdriver, I reached down to grab it, and when I did, I paused. It occurred to me that the attic wasn't as dark as it should have been. I glanced over and noticed something glowing under an old and dusty sheet.

The nosy part of me got the best of the situation, and I was curious as to what it was. So I stepped over and pulled the sheet to the side, only to find an old, big tube TV. It was just on a static screen, because it obviously didn't have an antenna or anything, and I was just kind of amused at seeing a model that old. It was the kind that had the wooden frame around it, the really old ones.

Which you don't see very often. Especially not in the condition that this thing was in. As I was marvelling over the TV, a thought clicked in my head. I mentioned a moment ago about how it wasn't as dark as it was supposed to be. Because of the TV. And it should have been dark. Because the power was off in the attic. I had flipped the breaker. There was no power going to anything up there.

And, of course, when I grabbed the power cable on the back of the TV, it wasn't plugged into anything, meaning this TV had no electricity running to it, yet it was showing me a moving, static visual, somehow. At that point, I was done. A haunted TV in a dark attic was the start to a horror movie.

and I don't really like horror movies, so I went ahead and grabbed my tools and stepped down to flip the breaker back on and see if the light was fixed. It was, thankfully, and I went ahead and went down to tell the owner. He was satisfied, I was terrified but hiding it well, and everything was copacetic, so I told him to have a lovely night, and I left.

That's probably the only time I've ever had something creepy happen on a job. And honestly, it might not sound like much, but an unpowered TV clicking on while you're working in a dark attic? It was enough to make me go from skeptic to... Maybe there is something more to this life. I haven't had any other paranormal encounters, and I'm pretty sure that if I had stuck around in that attic...

I probably would have had something happen. Sure, that would have been a slightly more interesting story, but no thank you. I love traveling and being on the road, which means that I've seen parts of the country, the US, that many people don't end up seeing. I've met some real characters on the way. When I was young, I watched a TV show on road trips along 66 and wanted to go.

Fortunately for me, I found someone who also shares my passion and is willing to travel the country with me. My fiance, John, and I decided to go on the journey together. We packed up our RV with supplies and made the long journey on the road. Unfortunately, many of those places are now deserted. I've gone through Texas. Amarillo and Shamrock are two of my favorite places.

One place that stood out to me with the historical buildings, and I think has the oldest cemetery on Route 66, is Allen Reed. It isn't a ghost town. I'm not sure of the exact number of residents, but there are still people living there. There's only one business that remains. We saw a couple of residents walking around, so I guess we'll have to take their word for it.

Many of the older buildings are maintained by a community group who prevents the buildings from collapsing. It's pretty cool if you ask me. Like many of these places, one thing you notice is just how quiet it is. And just how it is so deserted. We were taking photos of the different buildings in the cemetery and any of the abandoned houses that we saw.

We didn't want to trespass or overstep our welcome, so we made sure these places weren't lived in anymore. Now, I want to say that we never felt like we weren't safe or unwelcomed by any means, and we didn't feel like we were being watched, threatened, etc. We looked at some of the photos on our phones, but also took professional cameras and video footage with our GoPros. Once we collected it all, we said our goodbyes and continued on with our adventure.

I won't bore you with the full details of our trip, basically we had a lot of pictures and video footage. Once we got back home and finished unpacking everything, we started to go through all of the pictures to find our favorite ones to go into a photo album we would send out to our family. I know that we could post them online, but we have quite a few elderly family members who don't really have an online presence.

We got up to the pictures from Alan Reid, and we noticed dust on the lens that could give the impression of a ghost orb. It kind of annoys us when we see people say that every picture has a ghost, when we know what it is. I kept finding several pictures and complained to John. He looked over my shoulder and was far quieter than usual. I asked him what was wrong and he pointed to the screen. There was a face looking at us from one of the windows.

I zoomed in to see what did look like a face. Unfortunately, it didn't quite look human. The eyes were too big, and the mouth looked twisted. I'm a skeptic through and through, and I don't believe in ghosts or the supernatural. I said that it could have been a local who wanted to hide, but wanted to see what we were doing. John then said the face didn't look human, and I had to agree with him.

It did not look friendly. I went through the rest of the pictures. There were some that were fine, except that same face kept showing up in different places. It got stronger and more defined in the cemetery, and John and I stared at each other. We've been to abandoned buildings, and supposedly haunted places before with no issues with any of our equipment. I don't know what will happen here.

We checked the video footage and it showed what John thought was a shadow figure, but for me it looked like branches or shadowing from something else nearby. I don't know what it was. It was unsettling to know that something could be there. We did eventually manage to get some photos without the face or the shadow figures standing out. I'm still on the fence about what we actually saw in the pictures though.

I looked online and spoke to some friends to see if they'd ever had a similar encounter in Alan Reed, but I couldn't find any. So, what was it? I don't know. Oh, if you want to go there, now would be a good idea. I heard recently that the last business might be packing up soon, so I suggest heading out to Alan Reed. But do keep an eye out for the weird face and shadow figures, I guess.

I don't remember hearing about any local ghost stories or anything, but yeah, that's our story. Not sure if it's good enough to feature in a video, but I hope you have a good one as I am a big fan of yours. This happened the summer that I turned 15, and I learned a pretty strong lesson. A lesson that's etched into my very bones, and a reminder that sometimes you should just mind your own business.

Being a teenager, I thought that I was invincible, and that I would never be confronted with the horrors of the world. Scary things only happened on TV and whatnot. Obviously, anyone can experience scary things, but it's probably important to highlight that I had this dumb, invincible mentality as a 15-year-old girl, which, I would say, made me way more vulnerable than a lot of people.

And some of the things I did were incredibly stupid. This was one of those stupid things. My name is Riley, and back then, my whole world was a small town cradled in a lot of forest and state preserve that hadn't yet been turned into shopping centers. That summer, I landed a pretty decent summer job at the only diner in town.

It's not relevant, but I loved that job, because people knew that I was a high schooler, and they tipped super well when I told them that I was trying to save up to buy a car for my 16th birthday. I was hired on to the late morning to afternoon and early evening shift, so I had to be there typically by 9am. Obviously, I didn't have a car, and both of my parents worked.

So, I typically walked or cycled to the diner. When I walked, I would typically go down a path in the woods, because it was quicker, and there was a lot of wildlife to enjoy. I would take the trails until they got to a small railroad track, and then take a left to follow the track to the diner, which was right next to them on the main road. The whole shortcut took about a half mile off of my trip, which, to a 15 year old, is a lot.

I took this trail for about two weeks, which I guess lulled me into more of a false sense of security. Nothing had happened yet, so nothing would happen, right? There were a few times while walking the trail that I felt like I was being watched, or like somebody was nearby, but I never saw anyone, so I gradually convinced myself that it was a deer or something like that, and I was just being paranoid because of how secluded and quiet the trail was.

Again, nothing could happen to Riley. Then, one day, that illusion of seclusion and safety shattered. I was walking the path like normal, when I paused because something looked out of place. For more than 14 days, I did this walk on the trail and nothing had changed. Then, there was suddenly something different.

Off to the side of the railroad track, a few feet away, was what looked like a lawn chair with a backpack sitting in it. I know now that I should have just kept going, ignoring the chair and the backpack, but I was curious as to why someone would have left a backpack by the tracks like that. I took a second to think about it, and I figured I would look into the pack.

Justifying it by saying that I could see if I could find an ID in it and return it to whoever owned it. Surely that was the right thing to do. I say now with very heavy sarcasm. So, I stepped over to the backpack and I unzipped it. Thinking it would be full of someone's paperwork or clothing or something.

Boy was I surprised when I found it full of several tightly wrapped and taped bricks of a white powder of some sort. I now know what it was, yes, but at the time I was sitting there thinking, who put a backpack full of powdered sugar on a lawn chair in the woods? I didn't touch any of the bricks, I just stared at them for a second and tried to piece it together. My thoughts were then broken by the sound of footsteps behind me.

and the feeling of something cold and metal being jammed against the back of my head. If you've never had a gun pushed against your scalp, it's a strange feeling that you instantly recognize as a gun. It's kind of hard to explain, but it's almost like the feeling of a gun barrel is an instinctual trigger in your brain, like you just know that it's a gun and that you're about to die. As soon as the gun hit my head, I threw my hands up and yelped.

only for a hand to go over my mouth. The person behind me was very quiet and meticulous as he spoke. "Do. Not. Scream. You scream, you die." I nodded softly and he moved his hand away and then continued. "What's your name?" I told him that my name was Riley and that I didn't mean to touch his stuff, that I was just stupid and curious.

He ignored my comment and asked me how old I was, and to this day, I cannot help but laugh at my stupid answers. I told him that I was 15, and then rambled on that I was going to be 16 in October, as if the fact that I was going on 16 was going to mean anything else. He gave a slight chuckle and then said, "'Okay. And where do you live, Riley?' I told him that I lived at the end of the path, and that I was just walking to work."

He cut me off and said, "No. Address. I want your address." I wasn't sure what to do. But when you think you're about to die, you tend to kind of just go along with it. I told him my exact street address and said that it was a bright blue house, like it really mattered. He then replied with, "Alright, Riley. I now know where you live. You look like a good kid. A smart kid.

And I can understand that you were curious. It was a mistake, but I think this is a good educational moment for you. So I want you to listen to what I tell you and really understand it. Okay? Despite the edge and aggression in his voice, I remember that he almost sounded sympathetic. Like he felt sorry for me being in this situation.

I just nodded in agreement, and he then finished his side of the conversation. You're going to keep walking forward. You're going to go to work, and you're going to live your day like nothing ever happened. You will not turn around. You will not look back. If you look back, or I think that you even got the slightest look at my face, I will kill you.

"'You were never here, you never saw the backpack, and this morning never happened. Do you understand?' I once again nodded emphatically, trying to convince him that I was more than willing to do what he was asking. "'Okay, good. Good girl, Riley. I'm also going to need you to promise me that you aren't going to go to the cops about this, or tell anyone that might. Because if you do, I will know. And I know where you live.'

I'm also going to have to ask you to not take this trail for the rest of the month, until the first of July. After that, I don't care if you take it again, but until then, you find another way to work. Do you understand? When he said this, I actually spoke and said, Yes sir, I understand.

He gave a slight chuckle, and then told me that I was going to be okay, and then told me to go, and to remember what he said. I absolutely remembered, and there was no way that I would literally ever forget those words, because I knew right then that he was completely serious. He would come to my house if I told anyone about it, and I wasn't going to risk it. I didn't look back. I didn't turn around.

I kept my eyes forward and walked down the track to work and just lived as normal. I don't know who this man was. I never figured out who in town it could have been. And honestly, I prefer it that way. I'm fine with never knowing. I never told the cops. I never told my parents or my friends. I told no one about this until I was much, much older and had moved far away from town. I learned a very valuable lesson that day.

The main one being that minding your own business is a big deal, and if you decide that you're not going to, it could lead to a gun to the back of your head. I'm strangely grateful that this guy realized I was just a dumb kid, and that I had made a mistake, because he could have easily pulled the trigger and dumped my body, and I would not have been found for a couple of days at most. It's strange to say that you're grateful that the person threatening your life

decided you weren't worth the bullet. But that's where I ended up with my experience. I have an online dating story that is, in my opinion, weird and creepy. It's kind of more weird, though. It was just a really strange encounter with a guy that seemed okay at first. I'll try not to go on too long with this story, but my apologies if it does get a bit long-winded.

So, obviously, this happened at a point where I found myself in the endless sea of dating apps. Like many others, I was in search of something more. Having been single for a few years at this point, I was just trying to find someone that wasn't an absolute creep, and that I could stand to spend some time with. And if it became something extra, then great. And at one point I matched with a guy that seemed okay.

Let's call him Jamie for the sake of the story. Jamie seemed like a pretty decent dude. His profile had that nerdy air about it, and was filled with humor that resonated with mine. Our conversations were mostly smooth, we seemed to have quite a bit to talk about, and we liked a lot of the same things, so it goes. We then decided to put all of that to the test and meet up in person.

I was excited. I was thinking that this could actually be a match that could lead somewhere. And like everyone else in our position, we decided to do a meetup at a local coffee shop, a neutral ground where if nothing else, we could enjoy a nice cup of coffee before never speaking to each other again. I got there first, and Jamie messaged me saying that he was on his way, but that he was running a couple minutes late.

No big deal. Things happen. I just sat there with my latte and scrolled through the conversations, chuckling at a few of the jokes that were made and thinking about what to talk about when he showed up. This is normally the part of these stories where I would say, he showed up and looked nothing like his picture, but it was quite the opposite. He actually looked exactly like he did in his picture, but there was something about him that bothered me, and at the time, I just didn't realize it.

I brushed it off. He ordered his coffee, and I already had mine, obviously. But I hadn't drank much of it. And we sat down at a comfortable table. The conversation continued to flow pretty smoothly. We kind of picked up where we left off in our messages. But as it continued, Jamie started to ask a few questions that were weird. Mainly he seemed to be really interested in my daily routine.

and the questions were awkwardly personal. He asked what time I walked my dog, if I ever got scared living alone, how much my rent was. Worse yet, each time he asked one of these questions, he would change the way that he was looking at me. He would go from a normal, casual look to a wide-eyed, straight-on, penetrating glare.

It felt like he was trying to intimidate me, but only when he asked specific questions. I later learned that this was a supposed "alpha male" technique to make women submissive, but it's not important. Just funny to mention that people think this stuff works. I tried to steer the conversation to safer waters, thinking that I could salvage this to some extent.

But when I asked about his hobbies, or interests, or anything that was worthy of idle conversation, he would be vague, evade anything personal, and then further try to deflect, trying to turn it back around so that I had to answer his questions instead. It was pretty clear at this point that he was manipulative. I'd seen it before, and he was showing the telltale signs of being that kind of person.

I don't remember specifically how he got on to the topic, but Jamie ended up talking about one of his exes. He talked about how he used to watch her online activities, how he would show up randomly at her work to make sure that she was there, and he said it all with a hint of serendipity. He said that for the longest time he thought that she was the one, but that she, again, quote, "...couldn't handle him at his best."

Which, yeah, there were way too many red flags going up during this conversation. The whole time he talked about it, there was no hint of remorse or an understanding that he violated her privacy. He almost sounded amused. The final straw came when Jamie made a joke about having used a fake profile to learn more about me before the date.

He mentioned that when we matched a couple weeks prior, he had sent me a friend request under a secondary profile, and I accepted it without thinking, which, my bad. He then dug through my Facebook to learn everything about me, and then said that he'd even been around my block where I lived, which is where it hit me. Earlier, when I mentioned that something was off about him, it was because I had actually seen him in person before.

Like, the day before this date. When I'd left for work the morning prior, there was a guy just walking down the street, and he waved at me as I was leaving. It didn't hit me that it was him because I was tunnel-visioned on getting to work on time. He had, for lack of a better word, stalked me shortly before our date. The way that he said it made it seem like I should be flattered. I wasn't.

I excused myself, mentioned that I had a lot to do that day, so I needed to cut the date short, because I needed to go do something with my mom. I don't think I even gave a specific excuse. I'm pretty sure I literally said, I need to go do something with my mom. Jamie was completely unfazed, asking if he could walk me to my car or go with me.

and holding that same confident smile that he had while telling me about everything else. I declined. I told him to enjoy his coffee and hurried out of the coffee shop, and drove off as quickly as I safely could. What wrapped this whole event in a lovely little bow? A few hours after the date, he sent me a text saying, "I think that you and I had a real connection today, and I think that you have a real chance at making me happy."

Tell me when you're available, and I'll take you somewhere way nicer than that coffee shop. I never texted him back. I decided that ghosting him was the best way to handle it. I think that his ego and narcissism stopped him from messaging me again, because I didn't hear from him after that. Looking back, this experience is my chilling reminder that some people out there, not necessarily just men, are simply weird creeps.

He seemed totally normal at first, but he was anything but. I have done a few more online dates since this, but there hasn't been anything substantial. And honestly, I'm grateful that most of them have just been forgettable and boring, because I don't think I could handle another Jamie in my life. I know that this story is going to sound crazy,

and there will be a lot of questions of "How did you not know?" or whatever, but please, hear me out, because this is a doozy. I've actually read other stories that are similar to this in the past, or heard them on other channels like Let's Read, which was scary in its own way, but to have something like this actually happen is... well, it's another level of horror.

This actually happened to me a couple of years ago, in 2020. I live in a small house, rented actually, in a fairly quiet neighborhood. I have always felt safe here, but this event definitely challenged that notion. When this happened, I had lived here for about a year and a half or so. Like I said, it was in 2020, and I had moved in in 2019.

I was sitting in my bedroom, on my bed, just watching YouTube videos on my laptop before going to sleep, when I heard something coming from above me. Now, I do have an attic, and the attic is, well, an attic. It seems sealed off well enough, but in that year of living there, I had already had one issue with squirrels nesting after finding a small hole to get in, or chewing the hole himself. Who knows?

I was sitting there, and I heard what sounded like a similar scratching. At first, I wasn't certain that I heard it, but then it happened again, and I was immediately annoyed. I decided that I would ignore it because, well, I was lazy, and I didn't want to call an exterminator in the midst of COVID. That may sound stupid, but I'm a bit of a shut-in, and I don't like people. I figured that he would nest in the spot that he found, and that would be it.

Life would go on. Then, after a couple of days, the noises started to get louder. It wasn't just scratching, but thumps. And then what sounded like footsteps. I decided that I would go ahead and check the attic at the very least to see what I could find. The attic was dusty and cluttered. Not just with my old stuff, but there were actually some boxes up there from the previous tenant.

I had never taken the time to organize it, and it was basically just storage. I stepped up the ladder and took a quick look around, literally a glance. Nothing looked out of place, the boxes were all where I thought they should be, there weren't any immediately visible holes in the wall, and nothing even really looked disturbed. I thought maybe it was nothing, that the noises were actually outside, or I was just being weirdly paranoid.

Then came the next phase for the horror. I had things go missing, or getting moved around in my house. The first thing I noticed missing was underwear, which looking back is creepy as hell. They would go missing or I would find them in weird places, like on the floor in the hallway or in the kitchen.

It was weird and it definitely put me on high alert, but I couldn't really figure out a way to explain it. The doors were all locked, the windows didn't open up, they opened with outward cranks, and it was near impossible to get in them from the outside. Then, one day, when I came home, I found my refrigerator open. As in, wide open.

The doors have a dumb lock hinge or something, so if you open it all the way out, you have to pull it to shut it because it locks in place. It was like someone had opened the door to get something and left it open. I ended up calling the police and talking with an officer that came out about the whole thing. I explained what I saw, and while he seemed to believe me, there was no evidence of intrusion.

So, he basically said he would make a report about a potential break-in, but that there wasn't much else to do without evidence. He recommended that I get a ring doorbell cam to see if someone had a key to my place, or something like that. If nothing else, it would offer a bit of security. I did, and there was literally nothing that it caught. I was feeling confused, a bit paranoid.

I was thinking that I had some kind of demon or poltergeist in my place that was making my life hell. Honestly, I was losing my mind, thinking I was just going crazy and that nothing was actually happening. Or I was sleepwalking and didn't realize it. I kept hearing the noises in the attic during the day. I kept noticing things out of place or missing altogether. But there was no evidence of someone breaking into my home.

or proof that there was even anyone there. Then, things came to a very abrupt and rather terrifying head. I got home from work as normal, thinking I was going to find my clothes or food in a new random place, but that's not quite what happened. What I did find though, at the very least justified all of my craziness and paranoia. I put my purse down, grabbed some water and walked to my bedroom to get my laptop.

When I opened the door, I nearly peed my pants. The room was completely destroyed, with insulation and plaster and ceiling popcorn all over the place. And there, right in the middle of the disaster, was a man, completely unconscious. And, of course, above him was the hole that he had fallen through.

I immediately shut the door, grabbed a knife from the kitchen in case this guy woke up, and called the cops. It's impossible to explain the feeling of, I guess, invasion of privacy? Destruction of security? Anyways, it's hard to explain what I felt at that moment. The cops showed up and they had to bring in a paramedic as well because the guy was pretty messed up.

He'd fallen and smashed his head pretty hard against my dresser, and apparently broken his shoulder as well. They got him out of my apartment, and there were so many questions. Did I know the guy? Had I ever seen him? How did he get in? Thankfully, one of the responding officers was the original one that helped me with the report a few days prior. He and I walked up into the attic to kind of sort things through, and we figured it out.

Like I mentioned before, the attic was a bit of a cluttered mess, and things didn't look disturbed because they really weren't. He had slid a couple of boxes over, but not really gone through or messed anything up. This was also the day that I learned that my attic had a small loft, or a little hidden room kind of thing on one side.

There was a small wooden door that slid off to the side, and inside were a few blankets and pillows, a backpack, some of my clothing, and a bunch of food wrappers and trash from food that he'd taken from my kitchen. This man had been living there, by the looks of it, for a little while. He would later confess that he'd been living there for around three months, and if he hadn't accidentally stepped onto a weak part of the ceiling...

I probably wouldn't have known he was there. He eventually did tell the cops everything. He told them that he was homeless, and that he'd been living there without me knowing. Apparently, one day in the winter, it was snowing, and he was just looking for a place to stay warm. I, in my infinite wisdom, just so happened to leave my back door unlocked, and he had made his way in.

He went up into the attic to find a place to hide and sleep for originally just the night, but he liked it, and he decided to stay for a while. He claimed that he would never have hurt me and that he didn't mean to scare me, which honestly wasn't much comfort, and that he was just going to stay for a little while longer and then leave. It was also fun to explain to the owner of the house that I now had a large hole in my bedroom ceiling.

But thankfully there was a police report to explain that and say that it wasn't caused by me, and their insurance covered the cost. I can tell you that I also organized the attic after this as well, tossing everything I didn't need or wasn't mine, and I've kept that little door on the loft open at all times.

I also installed a few lights up there that I can turn on from the hallway so it's brightly lit and I can see everything from the ladder. Obviously nothing like this has happened again and hopefully nothing ever will but the fact that it happened at all was nothing shy of a nightmare. Back before the pandemic I was let go from my normal 9 to 5.

and this left me in a bit of a desperate state for money. My wife was still working, thankfully, but I knew that I needed to figure something out, and unemployment wasn't a guarantee. So, I got a little desperate. That desperation led me to doing what a lot of other Americans did at that time, and I turned to the gig economy to try and pad our savings so that bills would get paid.

It was a bit tough, but I did what I did and we made it work. For the most part, I was driving for a rideshare company. I tried to do the food delivery thing, but that didn't pay well enough, honestly. And I found that people were better tippers if you were delivering them to their destinations instead of delivering their overpriced sandwich.

One night, I was on the clock and I had come off of a fare when I got a ping saying that there was another passenger nearby and they needed a lift. It was on the outskirts of town, but I was kind of close, so I figured, whatever. I would get him, take him wherever, and then just go home. The passenger seemed normal enough.

He was a young guy in what looked like his mid-twenties, well enough to rest, and he seemed pretty friendly. He opened the door, we confirmed that he was my passenger, and he tossed his backpack into the back, and then sat in the rear passenger side seat. There were literally no red flags that I could see. He looked like a normal dude that you'd see working in IT for some medium-sized company.

He buckled in and said, "Hey, thanks for picking me up. Sorry it's so late though." I laughed and told him that it wasn't that big of a deal, that I would get him to his destination, and then probably head home for the night. As I drove, we struck up a bit of conversation. He told me that he was working as a contractor for a warehouse, doing system maintenance and whatnot, which wasn't surprising, as I mentioned.

He said that he was saving up to go back to school, so that he could get out of the contract work and get a full-time job doing tech work, because he was tired of the instability. I mentioned that I knew all about instability, as I'd been let go and we kind of bonded over blue-collar work and the annoyances that came with it. He seemed genuine, just another hard-working guy trying to make it.

I think that's why I found myself relaxed during the whole ride, and any concern I had about him was immediately dispelled. Then we pulled down the road for his destination, and it was a part of town that I knew from my teenage years. Not the best place to be in the middle of the night. I made a remark that was a bit inappropriate, asking him if he was sure that he wanted me to drop him off down this way. He laughed and said, Yeah, unfortunately...

I shrugged and just kept on down the street until the map notified me that we were where we wanted to be dropped off, which looked like an absolute mess. The house was old, dilapidated, and while I'm not one that should judge people, did not look like a place where this man should be living, staying, or associating with. I pulled up to the curb under the only streetlight on that part of the strip, and that's where things took a bit of a turn.

The guy hesitated, and took a deep breath, and then opened the door and said, Hey, could you just wait for a second? His voice was no longer friendly. It sounded almost scared as he asked, but before I could even respond, the front door of the house swung open. Three men emerged, one of them very noticeably brandishing a gun. My heart skipped when I saw it, and it immediately clicked in my mind that this whole thing was a setup.

I looked back at the man who was now half standing with my door open, looking back at me with that stare of, I'm really sorry dude, in his eyes. Panic surged through me. These guys were either going to rob me, steal my car, or worse. Without thinking, I slammed my foot on the gas pedal. The car lurched forward and my tires squealed. I heard someone shout and then the loud bang.

followed by more shouting and a few more shots ringing out. My mind was racing. I was pumped full of adrenaline, but I did not slow down. I did at one point look in my rearview mirror, which is when I noticed that the guy that was in the back seat was now lying on the ground a ways back, and the other three guys were standing over him.

I kept going for a while, and then pulled into a Walmart parking lot before I felt safe enough to call the police. I explained what had happened to them, and told them where I was. The cops arrived pretty much right away, and that's when I had to explain the whole thing to them again. That was also when I noticed that my car had a few new holes by the back door, and in the side of the trunk.

I told them that the guy was a fair, that I'd went to drop him off, and that the people just started shooting. I explained that the last thing I saw was him on the ground with the other guys, and I didn't know if he was alive, dead, or other. Worse yet, his backpack was still in the back seat, and when the cops opened it, they found a handgun. So much to my disdain, this guy was also armed.

and he was sitting in the prime position to put the gun to my head. After a while, the truth did come out. It was a setup. The friendly guy was part of the scheme, and their whole plan was to steal my car and leave me there on the side of the road with nothing, in a rough part of town. Their plan obviously backfired completely, because the guy had apparently hesitated, which gave me time to take off.

Also come to find out, when I took off, he was still hanging on to my car, and then they shot at me and his friend with the gun actually shot him. He survived. It wasn't that bad of a shot, thankful for him, but I'm pretty sure that they weren't very good friends after that. Of course, after all of this, I couldn't help but shake that feeling of betrayal. The guy seemed normal, decent,

and we developed that quick momentary friendship that you create with people. I ended up going back to the food delivery gig. It paid less, but there were fewer chances for things like this to happen. I'm not gonna lie, I do often think about that guy, and I wonder if he has any regrets about the choices he made that night, but mostly, I'm just grateful that I got out of there alive. A bit more cautious, a little less trusting,

but alive. I haven't really talked about this online, though my wife, then girlfriend, loves to share this story with anyone who will listen. Years ago when we first met, my wife and I shared a love of photography and exploration. We called it "ghost hunting," but it was more akin to visiting abandoned locations and taking photographs.

I used a 35mm camera with Ilford HP5 Plus film, and she used a Canon Rebel digital camera. We would often scout locations online with plans to visit them and get some pics for our library. This time it was an old abandoned fuel refinery/storage depot just off of a beach overlooking Lake Ontario. It would be tricky getting into the old refinery itself from the front,

and so I used Google Maps to see if there was any other way that we could get in. It looked like a wall was blocking most of our way in, except for a small section just off the beach that had only a chain-link fence. The beach itself looked extremely disheveled, like it had seen little use, so we hoped this would give us the privacy we needed to sneak in. I mean, sneaking into an abandoned industrial structure isn't exactly legal,

and we didn't want anyone calling the cops on us, so we packed our gear and headed out on our excursion. We had a hard time finding the entrance to the beach parking lot, but found it was blocked only by a loose chain that was laying on the ground, half buried in the dirt, as if someone had removed it long ago and just left it there. As we pulled into the parking area, there were no cars except for ours, which we noticed immediately.

As we pull in and I park, my wife points and says, "There's people here." I look up and see several dozen people, all along the shoreline, and all staring out at the water at literally nothing. No ships, no planes, no boats of any kind. They're all just staring blankly. There was nothing particularly interesting about these people.

They were all different age groups from young adults to elderly, though there were no children, and all were dressed as you would expect people to dress. It was a warm sunny day, and though some were in shorts, I found it odd that others were in long pants with jackets. It was far too warm for a jacket. What really struck me though was the confusion of how they got there. No cars, no bikes, nothing.

and no place to park up on the street for at least a few kilometers. No houses nearby either, so... locals? Maybe, but from where? Anyway, they're pretty much ignoring us as we sit in the car, contemplating whether to call the whole thing off, partially because of our need for privacy, and partly because of how weird it was feeling. After a few minutes of deliberation, we decided to continue on with the plan.

thinking that whatever they're doing, they're not interested in us. So we get out of the car, grabbing the cameras. No sooner do we close and lock our doors than every head turns and looks at us. I mean, every one of them. And there's a couple dozen of them, still facing the water, but their heads have turned to look in our direction. We froze for a second, looked at each other, just completely weirded out.

It felt like a long time, but was probably only a minute or so, when they all just turned back to face the water, ignoring us again. At this point, we got together and, in whispers, were discussing what to do. All the while, we were watching these people who completely ignored us. Finally, after some back and forth, we decided to press on. However, we'd been to some far sketchier places in the past, though this was a new one.

We walked along the beach to the section of the wall where the fence was and found a gap to enter. This is when I noticed they were looking at us again. Every one of them. We paused and hesitated to enter. After a few minutes, they again turned away. So, trying to be sneaky, we ducked behind the wall to the fence. From where we were, I couldn't see all of them, but the half dozen or so that I did see had turned their heads toward us,

Not moving their bodies, just their heads. It just seemed that every time we moved, that's when they would look at us. We were committed and decided to get in, take our picks quickly, and then get out. The time we spent in the refinery couldn't have been longer than 15 minutes. We'd planned for an hour or more originally, but the strangeness being what it was, we knew this had to be a short one.

As we climbed back through the gap in the fence, the first thing that caught me was that there was nobody in sight. I stopped my wife and told her this as we hesitated before passing the wall. We looked out slowly, trying to not call attention to ourselves. As we passed the wall, the entire place was in view. Not a freaking person there. Nobody. Even stranger. It looked like nobody had ever even been there. At least for a long time.

Now, I didn't make any close inspection of the area, but the sand looked undisturbed. There were footprints, but not enough for several dozen people. And they didn't look new. You know how a beach's sand can look dry on the surface? But if you kick into it, darker wet sand underneath shows? There was none of that. Just a few small dunes of dry-blown sand. It was eerie as hell. The only noise were the distant cars on the road.

After this, we hurried back to our car, not running really, but definitely not taking time to enjoy a day at the beach. Not that there was much to enjoy there. We will never forget that place, and how truly freaky it was.