ATRD Ep. 150 - Scary Urbex & Parallel Universe Stories (Featuring Marie's Field Of Nightmares)
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Hey there, friends. Today's episode of the podcast features another narrator. This narrator is actually my other half, Marie's Field of Nightmares, over on YouTube. She does not have a podcast set up at this point in time, but she is over there, so if you're on YouTube and you listen to scary stories over there as well, do check her out. Once again, it's Marie's Field of Nightmares. She will be reading two stories closer to the beginning of the episode, so...

That's gonna be the different voice in this one, just so you know. And of course, enjoy. Hello Raven. This experience spans across not just this lifetime, but also past ones. If I were to dive into all the details at once, we would be here all day. So, I'll break things down into individual stories for clarity. For some context, I'm adopted.

My adoptive parents were already in their 60s when they officially brought me into their family. There's a weird coincidence regarding my last name that I always found interesting. My biological last name is almost identical to my adoptive last name, with just two letters difference. In my biological surname, the last two letters are "LL", while my adoptive last name ends with "TT". Aside from that small detail,

The spelling of the names is exactly the same. It's a strange fact that has always stuck with me, though it has no bearing on what I'm about to tell you. My story took a significant turn when I was 14 years old. That is when my adoptive parents lost custody of me. This didn't come out of nowhere. The emotional neglect had started long before. When I was about 8, my older sister began having children. My parents, now also grandparents,

became preoccupied with their new roles. I felt like I was forgotten, emotionally neglected as their attention shifted towards their grandkids. It's hard enough being a kid without feeling invisible in your own home. This had a negative impact on me as I grew up, especially as I was always an outsider at school. I was that weird kid, not because of anything specific I did, but just because that's how people saw me.

Things shifted more dramatically when I reached the last year of middle school. That's when I started to delve into the occult. I had always held unconventional beliefs. Aliens, reincarnation, things that made my parents uneasy to say the least. They were completely against anything even remotely associated with the occult or supernatural. But for me, it was something that felt right. Something I was drawn to.

I believe that this early interest in the occult opened me up to a broader understanding of the world, including the possibility of alternate realities. I didn't realize it fully at the time, but I had started interacting with these other dimensions, other timelines. Fast forward to 2020, the pandemic hit, and like many others, I found myself turning inward, revisiting old interests. I began actively attempting to connect with alternate realities again,

and things became much more vivid than they had been in my teenage years. This brings me to an experience that happened just the other night, one that still lingers in my mind because of how real it felt. I was attempting one of my usual shifts to a different reality. It was late, and I remember everything clearly. I found myself on an Amtrak train, knowing that it would stop in my hometown soon. I could feel the texture of the high heels I was wearing,

and I remember glancing at the clock. It was around 9:30 PM. Snow covered the ground outside. The cold crispness of winter was unmistakable. The clarity of the details made it impossible to write it off as just a dream. I knew that I wasn't dreaming. When the train stopped, I made my way to the path that runs between my neighbor's backyard and mine. I walked through the familiar door in the garage that leads directly into the kitchen.

As I stepped inside, I was immediately met with the comforting, almost haunting sight of my adoptive father making popcorn. He was preparing to settle in for the evening, ready to watch TV until he inevitably fell asleep in his chair, just like he used to. My mother was there too, fussing over the dishes with the same meticulous attention to detail she always had. It was as if nothing had changed.

As if I had stepped back into a perfectly preserved moment in time. And then there was Jane. My parents' neighbor. I'll call her that for now. I knew instantly that this was some time in the early 2000s. Likely November, based on the snow, and the atmosphere in the room. My phone, however, displayed the date and time from the reality I had just left. It was August 2024, past 11pm.

Confused and feeling slightly disoriented, I asked Jane what year it was. The way that she looked at me, it was as if she didn't quite understand my question, like I was asking something ridiculous. For a moment, I wondered if she could even see me at all, or if, perhaps, I had crossed over in a way that rendered me invisible to her.

Feeling increasingly unsettled, I walked through the house, making my way to what had once been the computer room and finally into my old bedroom. This was the room that I had painted a vivid lime green in high school. We had also rearranged the furniture so that a TV and stand took the place of my keyboard in front of the window, facing the woods. But as I entered the room in this reality, it was different.

The walls were their original pale lilac color, and my keyboard was still sitting in its old spot, right by the window. It was clear to me then that I was in a time before 2006, before my high school years. Despite the strangeness of it all, a deep sense of relaxation washed over me as I laid down in my bed. I could feel myself sinking into a kind of peace, the kind that only comes when everything else feels familiar and safe.

even if it's in an unfamiliar time. I texted my significant other, knowing they would catch up with me soon, and as I drifted off to sleep, I felt a sense of completion. When I woke up, it was as if I had traveled through time again, only this time I was back in the present, in my best friend's room, lying in the corner, fully back to my current reality. I'm still processing everything, but I know one thing for sure:

What happened that night was not a dream. It was something more. As a child, there was one house we lived in that I will always call home. My parents lived there when I was born, and we stayed there until I was 14. That was what I knew and all I knew. You figured out all the best hiding places. You knew where each creaky floorboard was to avoid being caught.

You could walk through it with your eyes closed. That's how this home was for me. But sadly, my family was not immune to the housing crash. After my dad was laid off and had to accept a lower paying job, they could no longer afford our home. And the only thing we could do, much like many others, was to just leave it.

I may have been 14, so while I understood not being able to afford things, it still hurt. I didn't want to leave. That was what I knew. Thankfully, we did stay close enough for me to stay in the same school district, but we definitely downsized. From there, we slowly moved more and more south until we eventually moved from Ohio to Kentucky.

Over time, it got easier and I got used to the moving. Maybe it was because I never got attached to a place like I did with our first home, who knows? But then, things have a funny way of working out. My 10 year high school reunion was coming and now that I was living in a different state, a few hours away, I wasn't intending on going.

But then, I saw a girl from my class that I had a huge crush on reached out to me, asking if I was going to be there. She wanted to get together to catch up and it just so happened that I was single at the time, so I jumped on the opportunity. I took the time off, told my parents I was going back to Ohio. No, I didn't live with them, but I still told them when I left town, and made plans to spend a few days up there.

The reunion was fine. I reconnected with some old friends and got to talk a lot with the girl I mentioned, Jessica. We made plans to meet up the next day and I headed back to my hotel in a great state of mind, reminiscing about my childhood when I got that itch to drive by my old house. I just wanted to see what it looked like nowadays, that was all. I was not expecting what I saw.

The place still looked abandoned, or again maybe? There were notices taped to the door, and the two big windows in the front were boarded up. It was definitely not being used. I parked in front of the house for several minutes, just looking it over and trying to imagine running around the front yard with my little brother. After sulking some, I got the stupid idea of checking it out from the inside.

I didn't know who all still lived in the neighborhood, and I didn't want someone to call the cops, so I knew I couldn't just stay there and walk in. I drove over to the little gas station around the block, parked my car, and walked back. I walked along the sidewalk, down the driveway, and then quickly walked around the back, opening the gate with a rock trick I used as a kid.

I don't know why, but I thought I would try the back door, not expecting it to just work, but it did. It wasn't locked, so I stepped in. There was certainly a flood of emotions as I stepped into what was the kitchen. All the hanging cabinets had been ripped from the walls, the wallpaper peeling where they once were,

The cream-colored paint now looked gray in my flashlight with streaks of yellow running down the walls, most likely nicotine stains. I will mention that my parents didn't smoke. Everything had dust on it, but some had thicker layers than others, showing me what was possibly last touched or moved. I moved into the living room and saw the giant old entertainment center still in its place.

The glass was broken out, but otherwise it was still standing strong. Made sense. I remember my dad did not want to move that thing. The shiplap walls were starting to warp and splinter near the bottom base like they had gotten wet or damaged. But what I noticed the most in the living room was the smell. It was quite a stomach-churning stench.

There was, of course, the smell of mold or mildew, which immediately made me grab my shirt to cover my face. But then there was another distinct smell. It was almost like something rotting, but I couldn't quite determine what it was. At first, I just chalked it up to being the house in general.

It pretty clearly had been sitting empty for a while, so who knows what had been left behind and left out to spoil and decay. I told myself I needed to leave, but I couldn't go without first seeing my bedroom. So, I walked down the right hall and slowly opened the door. To my surprise, it was the least damaged room. It was empty as I didn't leave one thing behind of mine,

but there was a small pile of what I think was clothing in the corner of the room. I sat in the middle of the floor, again, just taking in the moment before I finally said it was time to go, if not because of the smell alone. As I started to leave, however, I remembered my secrets in my closet. Sometimes I would hide in there and write or draw on the inner wall,

It was the one place my parents never looked, so I didn't get in trouble for writing on them. I wanted to revisit my old handiwork. Knowing if the house was in this condition, it probably hadn't been painted over. I held my phone with my light on in one hand and pulled open the closet doors with the other. I didn't get to see my old artwork. Instead, crumpled up on the closet floor, I saw a body.

By the state of it, they had been dead for some time, which made me realize what that smell was that still lingered in the air. I immediately ran out of the house and got sick in the yard. I had been walking through the house and sat in the same room of a corpse for at least half an hour. That's all I could smell. That's all I could see. Once I gathered myself, yes, I did call the police.

I won't say I wasn't scared about getting in trouble myself because I definitely was. My story didn't sound suspicious at all. Yes, I just came to check out my old abandoned home and found the body, I swear. I would probably think they were suspicious too. I waited at the end of the driveway until police showed up and I explained to them exactly why I was there and everything I did, everything I touched, and what I saw.

They went in and I slowly saw a few more cars and a coroner van show up. The neighbors across the street ended up watching from their porch too. After some time, one of the cops and a detective approached me and asked me when I used to live there and I was honest.

After a little small talk that seemed like the detective was just trying to keep me calm, he then informed me that looking at the state of the body, as well as the lack of disturbance of the surrounding area, he knew that I had no part in his death or moving the body. He then mentioned he assumed it was probably a squatter or someone looking for a place to sleep, and that they most likely died of an overdose, as they didn't immediately see anything on the body.

I think he may have felt sorry for me with the way he handled me, but I didn't care. I was successfully traumatized. I left my childhood home at the age of 14 unexpectedly. I returned just to reminisce and instead I was left worse off than what I was. He told me I was free to go and said that they would call if they had any further questions.

I did go see Jess the next day and, yeah, I told her about what I did that night too. She was horrified for me, but also excited, in a way. She actually quite enjoyed urban exploring, and I hadn't really thought about it at that point, but I guess it's kind of what I did. She suggested we go together sometime, promising me we wouldn't find any bodies. I was willing to do so, but not that time.

That image stuck in my head for quite some time. I didn't like talking about bodies and watching related shows. It changes you when you see one in real life. I've definitely gotten a lot better now where I don't get triggered from watching CSI, but I still hesitate when I go into abandoned places.

I would like to share a story from when I was younger, to hopefully not only teach others to be careful, but to let them know that things will get better. I'm an adult now, well into my 40s, and quite happy where I'm at. But my life wasn't always that way. My childhood was filled with plenty of stressful and hurtful days.

I barely knew my dad and he seemed to have no interest in getting to know me. And my mom just about put everyone and everything over me. It was normal for me to only eat at school. Thankfully I got free meals, but I would often have to fend for myself at home. As I got older and had a voice for myself, my mother and I often got into fights.

It's not like she tried to do right. She didn't work, she made money in other ways, but I rarely saw it regardless of how she earned it. The men that she was with rarely lasted long, but there was one guy that she liked to frequently bring home, and he gave me the creeps with how he would watch me. So when we got into a fight about him being in my room one day when I came home, I wasn't really surprised when she kicked me out, taking his side over me.

I tried calling my dad, but he made up every excuse to not let me stay with him. So, there I was. At the age of 17, kicked out and homeless. Now, of course hindsight is 20/20, and I'm sure some people might have taken me in if I talked about it, but unfortunately, in my already fragile mind, I didn't talk much to the few friends I had about my situation. I didn't want to burden someone else or have them pity me,

I enjoyed my time with my friends because it wasn't a skate. It made me feel like my life was normal and I didn't have to focus on it. So, instead, I went to school as normal. I stayed at various friends' houses on the weekends and would shower there, but at night, I floated around a lot and found myself couch surfing at almost complete strangers' houses. I wasn't always lucky enough to find a home to stay at.

Sometimes, I even stayed in abandoned or closed up buildings, but I could at least find the silver lining in this. I grew to quite enjoy urbex, and with my free time, I would often try to find new places to explore. At least it sounded cooler to say that I was exploring, rather than trying to find a place to sleep for the night. Mostly I found old houses that were boarded up, and clearly not being lived in.

There was one place that I quite enjoyed because they left a lot behind, including an old journal or diary. I kept going there until I finished it because it was so well written. It was almost like a book, and I didn't want to put it down. But once I was finished, I left it there where it belonged, in its home. After all, I knew what it felt like to be ripped out of your home.

When it started getting cooler at night, I tried to find better covered places to keep warm, as I was located near the coast of Florida. This is what led me to that position. I had walked past this building several times that I believed was an old clinic. Not sure if it was for people or a veterinarian clinic. There was a large sign out front showing it was for sale, and from what I could tell from the outside, it was definitely vacant.

I wanted to try and get in to not only have a place to stay, but to also look around. Old clinics and hospitals were always a lot of fun to explore. Between the random tools or supplies that may have been left behind, and just exploring the rooms and imagining what may have occurred in them, it was always amusing to me. I waited until it was darker and then walked around the building, looking for the best way in.

It wasn't going to be as easy as a back door to an old house, but at the same time, it kind of was. I prayed that there wasn't an alarm set on in the building, picked up a nearby decorative rock, and broke out one of the office windows. I carefully climbed in and noticed immediately that the heat was still on. It was nice, but also put me on edge, thinking there probably was an alarm and I needed to be ready to run.

I looked around the room that I was in, and it still had a desk pushed to the corner, with a cheap metal chair stacked on top of it. There was a shelf on the same wall with random papers and wires being held. I was surprised to see two thick cables on it, which appeared to be some kind of power cord. While cell phones were a thing, smartphones certainly were not. But the plug-in told me this wasn't for a phone.

I quickly wrapped them up and tossed them in my bag, hoping that, whatever it was for, maybe I could make some cash off of it. That was about all that was in that room, so I opened the door and headed out of the room. It was clear walking down the hall that this place was pretty well gutted. The light covers had even been removed, leaving the bare halogen tubes, all the signs and photos that once hung on the wall were gone, leaving slightly discolored paint.

There were a few small pieces of paper that were taped to random doors and walls with painter's tape that I can only describe as being some kind of worker's instructions. I walked over to what would have been the front desk and saw that there was still a nice chair behind it. I sat in the chair as I checked all the drawers, once again not finding much. There were a few stickers and coasters in the bottom drawer, a pen, a small notepad, and just some kind of lanyard.

All in all, it wasn't too exciting at that point, but it was also a decent place to stay for the night. I ended up in another room, most likely an exam room, but it was filled with a lot of random stuff, including one of those exam beds you would sit on waiting for the doctor. The cushion was split open and the bottom looked damaged, which was probably why it was left behind. After putting some weight on it, and it's not collapsing under me,

I decided to call that my bed for the night. I tried getting settled in and, with the wind-up flashlight that I had with me, tried reading some of the book that I had. But as I lay there, I started hearing a faint sound. A voice. It was very muffled, but I could definitely tell that it was someone talking. I was worried at first, thinking that it was probably the police, possibly being alerted to some kind of silent alarm.

but going by my past experiences, they weren't very quiet about it. They always made their presence known, and very loudly at that. This person was clearly talking quietly like they didn't want to be heard. Maybe it was someone like myself, someone just looking for a place to stay, and normally I would just leave them be if so, but part of me said that I should go check it out, for both of our safety.

So, I left the room that I was in, taking my backpack with me just in case, and I tried to make my way towards the voice. I could tell I was at the right room because I could clearly hear the voice now. They were still mumbling, so I couldn't make out what they were saying, but what I could understand was the loud crash. It made me jump in place, but then I peered into the room as the door wasn't closed all the way. There was a man standing in the room, alone.

He would say something and then would swing the pole in his hand, smacking at whatever was in front of him. It looked like he had one of those IV stands. He was swinging it furiously at anything in the room, breaking it and watching it fly across the room. The only thing I was ever able to make sense of when he was screaming was, "It's all your fault!" I stood there, frozen in place, and continued to watch.

He lifted the pole over his head, took a deep breath, and then paused. I held my breath in that moment, worried that he knew I was there. Then, in a soft, almost inaudible voice, he says, Don't worry. I don't want to hurt you. But it's best you get out of here before midnight. Before he comes back. And with that, he took another deep breath, screamed, and the pole came crashing down on whatever was in front of him.

I wasn't going to wait around to see what happened at midnight or who he was. I slowly stepped backwards and then ran to the lobby. I thought that I would try the front entrance this time, hoping maybe I could unlock it so that I didn't have to go through the window. But to my surprise, the door was actually cracked open slightly. I know it wasn't like that when I got there because I remember looking at it and thinking it was definitely going to be locked.

Was it opened by the man I just saw? Or was there another person there with us? The thought of being alone with that guy was scary enough for me, but possibly two of them? That made it worse. Why did he seem so angry? What did he mean by it's your fault? And why was it so important that I be gone? To be honest, none of those questions were very important to me at the time.

I slipped through the door and ran until my legs were about to give in. While nothing did happen to me that night, I still feel incredibly lucky. That man gave me a warning, but I had no idea why. I still wonder at times who he was referring to, the importance of the time, and how he even knew I was there, between the breaking and the screaming.

I ended up going to a friend's place the next day, swallowing my pride, and finally telling them the truth about my life. From then on, I wasn't on the streets, and things did get better. They weren't perfect, and still weren't easy, but I at least didn't have to explore to find a place to sleep. Now as an adult, I can do it for fun and be assured that I have real life skills that keep me safe when I go through with it.

Just keep in mind, if you are an explorer, that sometimes people aren't there for a hobby, and some may defend what little they have. My brother, we'll call him Frank, has been doing urbex or urban exploration for years now, and took me along with him to an abandoned school.

Not to shit on the area, but the whole place looks straight out of Fallout 4 or any other apocalypse games. There are a lot of abandoned buildings, crime, and we'd have to watch our backs while we were there. I did a quick YouTube search and there have already been videos posted of this location.

We arrived by car, and he cleared up some rules. One, the moment he says to leave, we get out of there immediately. Two, take nothing when we're in there. Three, if it looks unsafe to walk on, don't try it in case you fall through. And last but not least, four, keep your mouth covered because black mold is dangerous.

Without elaborating, he got out of the car with his GoPro ready and we walked in through a side entrance. It was pretty dark, but with some of the windows broken, there was some light coming in. Seeing all the abandoned classrooms was pretty unnerving. Not in a "kids could easily come back here right now" way. It was too dirty and damaged for that.

But out of the norm? Everything had dirt on it, and we went into one room. He gestured for me to stop when we saw an old disgusting mattress laying on the floor in the corner. There was garbage around, in a bucket that I think would have been used as a toilet. We were curious but careful.

Together, we walked to the mattress and I saw another video of some boys in Brazil, I think, who found a dead body. We didn't. We found an old blanket, some food, and a backpack filled with random things. We agreed it was probably a homeless person, but with the amount of dust, they haven't been here for a long time. But why would they leave their backpack here and not take it with them?

We continued down and went into the library. It was dark down here and we needed to rely on light to see. There were still some shelves filled with dust covered books, except a single corner where there were a pile of burnt books that stained the walls with char. They could have used it during the winter to try to keep warm.

Frank and I left until we came to another room when we heard shouting and people running through. He put his finger up, gesturing for me to be quiet, and we hid until the noise died down. We couldn't go back the same way we came, so we had to find a different way out. We went down the hallway and found a pile of cards. We thought they were just old student IDs that were left behind.

But they were social security cards, driver's licenses, and other important information that people wouldn't willingly leave behind. We looked at each other and found a pile of old clothing, different sizes, men's and women's clothing, bras and panties, and some pieces were covered in blood. Some were dark brown and others a lighter shade of red.

Strangely, there were no shoes and I found one thing that scared me. A baby onesie with a blood stain on the chest along with a hole. I nearly started screaming and he had to give me a shake to get me to shut up. He pointed for us to leave and after seeing this, he didn't need to tell me. We opened the door and seeing the sun outside felt like stepping out of hell.

I tried to talk to him and we ran toward the car, getting in and driving away to escape. When he sped away, I saw a group of people watching us through the windows and it made the experience all the more terrifying. We stopped at a gas station and he called the police to tell them what we had seen. I was still shaking and looking out the windows to make sure we weren't followed. Were they murder victims? Or people who were trafficked? I don't know.

The whole place gives me the creeps and now I don't want to go back somewhere dangerous like that again. Frank wants to go back to see if the evidence is still there. He tried looking up the names of some of the pieces of ID, but it was too water damaged or blurry to see the faces or names properly.

So maybe there is a chance they could be missing people, but if their ID is there, where are they? And who would leave that behind? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, Raven. Take care. I don't really know how this is possible, but I hope someone has an explanation for this. So, we're 9th graders, and basically there is a program in our school where only 10 people can go to.

You can sign up if you want to, it was your choice. So basically, you sign up to go to the university to get lectures about biophysics on the fourth class instead of art class. So, I signed up, of course. And my friend too. The signing up was four weeks ago. So, the university is like a big castle. Really old, the inside is old too. You can look it up on Google. Just search "Kleipidos Universitatis".

So, the first time we all went there, we had a chill 20 minute lecture and then we could go. The second week we went near the door, it was room 213, second floor. The lector didn't even come and the door was locked. So, we went home. And it turned out that he was sick that day. Now, today. Today is the third week. Me and my friends meet up, we went to the university from our school, it's like 2 kilometers away.

so the lecture starts in a small classroom at 10:55. The third class ended at 10:35, so we had 20 minutes. We came to the university. Near the door, it was 10:50 exactly, I remember. The door was still locked. I looked out the window to see if anyone was coming, but there was no one in sight. Then, one minute later, two other classmates came. Then we sat in the hallway chairs to wait. There was also an old man painting the walls with white paint on a ladder.

Then the lector came and unlocked the door, and it was 10:55. We went in, two minutes later two other classmates come in too, so there was about four absent people. The lector didn't lock the door just in case somebody was late. Then the lecture was for around 20 minutes or so. It ended and we went back to school. As I was walking, I decided to check my class group chat. I usually keep it muted since they talk too much BS and so forth.

I didn't want to get into that. So I see my classmate that didn't come to class, and another girl saying on the group chat, "Is the lecture even going to happen?" And that they just decided to go home, since it wasn't. Then I said that the lecture happened. The guy, the classmate that missed the lecture, said that the door was locked and that no one was there. So here's the part where it all happens.

We go back to the school, and our friend is asking why we didn't tell him that the lecture happened. I actually didn't even look at the chat since I kept it muted. So I explained that me and my other friend were there at 10:50 checking to see if the door was locked, and I was looking out the window. The guy was confused. He said that at exactly 10:50 he checked too, to see if the door was open. But we were there at 10:50 checking it too.

At 10:55, the lector came in and unlocked it. The guide said that at 10:55, he checked again and it was locked. It was, but at 10:55, the lector had opened the door. So, he double checks to see if he's at the right room. And it was. Room 213 at 10:55. But the door was locked for him. So, basically, I'm going to tell this part from his perspective. At 10:50, he came near the 213 room.

No one was in the hallway. Didn't even hear anyone walking up the stairs or anything, just pure silence. He tried opening the door, but it was locked. So, he went to the third floor to double check. Maybe the other classmates were waiting there. No one was there. So, when it was 2.57, he went to the second floor again and checked if room 213 was locked. And it was. He didn't hear anyone talking there or anyone at all in the hallways.

Then he basically exited the university. Now, back to my perspective. At 10:50, I was with my friend checking to see if the door was locked, and it was. At 10:47, I was looking outside the window to see if anyone was coming to the university, and no one was in sight. Then, also at 10:50, we saw the ladder guy painting the walls. At 10:55, the lector came and opened the door. We went inside, and the lector did not lock the door.

At about 10.57, my other classmates came in. So, to sum it up, the other guy, the lost classmate, didn't even see anyone at the university. He didn't see us at the exact time. He didn't see the latter guy either. And he didn't see my other friends walking upstairs at 10.57, as he would have been walking downstairs.

And if you think that he was BSing, the other classmate girls were with him. And they all agreed with what he said, so it seems true. He double checked the room, it was the right one. The same big table in the hallway too. He was in the same place as we were, standing at the exact same time. Yet, he didn't even hear or see us. And we didn't see the lost guy or the girls.

Me and my friends couldn't even hear them walking the stairs or talking. He didn't either. That's it. Were we in a parallel world? A multiverse of some sort? I really would like an explanation. Oh, and I forgot to add. About somewhere at 1055, he was checking if the door was closed or not. But we were, at that time, in the classroom. And the door was unlocked. Unlocked.

We didn't even hear if he was trying to open it. And then I had this thought: What if I looked at the chat at 10:55 and had sent him a photo of me and my friends at the door? But then also he would have sent that he and his classmates were near the door. "Hi Raven, thank you for giving me a platform to share my experience that I believe was a glimpse into an alternate reality."

This happened back in Indonesia when I was in my early 20s. I'm 50 years old now. I went for a job interview at a company I worked for before I came to the US. I wanted to paint a picture of the location of the offices first because it's very relevant to what I experienced. The offices were on the second floor of a private house that was owned by one of the owners of the company.

The office section was completely blocked off from the private residential section, so no access to their house from the office section. The stairs to the office were located outside the house, where the parking lot was. At the top of the stairs was a long balcony to the right. The left side of that balcony was the employee's office. To the left of the stairs was a door.

As soon as the door was opened, there was a narrow hallway to the right so you'd be facing a wall, and then you would have to turn right immediately to go through that hallway. This is where the glimpse happened. When I came for the interview with the president of the company, Mr. Robert, my soon-to-be supervisor was walking me to his office, which was through that door and hallway. As soon as she, my supervisor, opens the door...

I clearly see a door right where the wall was. Since it was my first time there, I didn't know and didn't think anything special about it. After I got hired, yay, a few months later a new girl, Sylvia, was hired to be Mr. Roberts' assistant. A few months after she started, a few of us were talking during our lunch break when Sylvia randomly asks no one in particular where the door that's in that hallway right when you open the door on the top of the stairs leads to.

No one except me knew what she was talking about. So I told them that it's right there. I was curious too. Needless to say, everyone thinks that both myself and Sylvia are delusional. So yeah, that was mine and Sylvia's experience in getting the glimpse of an alternate reality where there's a door in that hallway, whereas in this reality, there's only a wall.

Hey, so, let me tell you about the time my friends and I made the worst decision ever. We were obsessed with investigating cemeteries and creepy places, but this one, it still gives me the chills. There's this old abandoned house right next to one of the cemeteries we used to visit, and of course, we had to check it out. So, we get there, and the first thing that hits us is the smell.

It's like something died in there, and probably did. But, you know, we were sixteen and stupid, so instead of running away like normal people, we went inside. I don't even know what we were thinking. The house was exactly what you'd expect. Dark, dusty, and creepy. The floor creaked with every step, and there was this huge pentagon on the floor, and on the ceiling too.

It was like someone had been practicing some weird rituals. None of us had ever seen symbols like the ones drawn all over the place. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and my EMF meter. It was going off like crazy. I knew something was wrong right then, but instead of leaving, we kept going deeper into the house. Jake pulled out the spirit box, and the moment it crackled to life, we all froze. Help. I'm trapped. Help me.

The voice was faint, but clear enough. It felt like whoever or whatever was speaking was right there with us. My gut was screaming at us to get out of there. But then, Kyle being Kyle, had to act all tough. He wanted to check it out. Of course, to show off. Probably thought he would win me over or something, which, spoiler alert, he didn't. He started heading down these old wooden stairs into the basement...

and with every step he took I just got more and more creeped out. His chances with me were basically vanishing each step. I mean, I wanted to yell at him, "Don't go!" but he was already halfway down and then when he reached the bottom we heard him go, "What the hell?" He'd found these hooks hanging from the ceiling. You know, the kind that are used to hang cows or something? And there was old dried blood underneath. That's when I knew we were way out of our path.

Kyle was halfway through the basement when we heard him mutter, ''What is that?'' He stopped, shining his flashlight on the ground. His foot had hit something. I couldn't see from where I was standing, but I knew by the tone of his voice that it wasn't good. He crouched down, and that's when I heard him say, ''It's a knife. I think it's covered in blood.'' My heart dropped, and I yelled, ''Don't touch that. Whatever you do, don't touch it. That's evidence. We've got to call the cops.''

I could see the hesitation in his eyes. He wanted to be the hero, but even Kyle wasn't that dumb. He backed away from it, and I felt a small wave of relief. We got out of there after that. I mean, we weren't even supposed to be in that house in the first place, but we couldn't just leave that knife behind. We had to tell someone. So we called the cops, gave them a vague story, and then got out of there as fast as we could.

I kept hoping they would figure out whose blood it was. Or maybe, just maybe it wasn't a person. Maybe it was some kind of sacrifice. I don't know, a rat, maybe? Poor rat. Two days later, we actually went back. This time was during the day. We were curious, you know? We wanted to see what that creepy house looked like in the daylight. But when we got there, there was no house left to see. Just a pile of ashes.

It was still kind of smoking a little, like the fire had only just finished. I stood there staring at the ruins, trying to make sense of it. The house, the knife, everything was gone. And as we poked around in the ashes, we found something strange. A single tarot card. I flipped it over and, wouldn't you believe it, it was the death card. Out of all the cards it could have been, it just had to be that one.

Now, I know a little bit about tarot. I've read enough to understand that the death card doesn't always mean something bad. It can be a sign of transformation, a new beginning. So, I like to think that maybe if there was a spirit trapped in that house, they're free now. Maybe the fire was their way out. I hope so, anyway, because our spirit box actually stayed silent the second time.

I've always thought there was something strange about airplanes, airports, and flying in general. I know not every single pilot or passenger has weird stories to tell, but many do. Trust me. I'm not afraid of flying, although taking off and landing can be a little creepy. This glitch isn't scary because it happened on a plane. It's scary because of what was happening to myself in that alternate reality.

Let me start off by admitting that I did have some wine while waiting for our flight, but I was in no way intoxicated. We'd also eaten dinner, so it was just a slight buzz for me, and at that point, I was just ready to get home. Yes, before anyone asks, this is the blind parallel glitch girl again, and this story puts my last one to shame. Anyway, it was about 10 minutes to take off, and I had to use the restroom.

I head back there, and after I close and lock the door, I suddenly get very anxious. I feel like the walls are closing in around me, which is unusual. I'm never claustrophobic. Ever. I'm washing my hands by this point, but as I'm reaching for the door, the plane shifts slightly. Then, suddenly, I can feel myself dropping. People are screaming, and stuff starts falling, and then I hear it. My voice.

But I'm not the one speaking or crying out. Rather, it's another me. Oh god, please, no, I don't want to die. I'm only 36. And what about my parents? And everyone else? No, god, please fix this plane. I want to go home. What's going on? I scream. And suddenly her voice, or the other me's tone of voice, completely changes. What are you doing here? You've scared me enough by popping up in my living room. You know, if god is about to take me...

Her voice trails off as the plane started to shake more and more violently. Neither one of us could speak at this time. I hear more screaming and crying, and the pilot says, Prepare for an emergency landing. Emergency, she yelled. You mean an effing crash landing. And now you're gonna die too, other me. I couldn't say anything, so I just reached my hand out until I found her.

I didn't know what else to do but accept my fate, and put my arms around her and hug her in our last moments. My heart was full of sadness. My family would be looking for me, and I'd be gone. I finally speak to her. How did you know it was me? Neither one of us can see. Are you heading back to Georgia from seeing your new niece too? Yes, but they had a nephew. And I heard you say something about finding paper towels. I couldn't find them either.

We had just taken off. The flight attendant just gave us the okay, then I don't know. Something happened? The weather's perfect though, so what's happening? She started crying again at this point. Look, it's gonna be alright. I don't know how, but it is. I'm sorry I frightened you back in the living room, but you should know that I didn't do it on my own. Something just kind of happened. Like now. My family's probably looking for me and we're on the wrong damn plane, but...

I have to know something. Are you happy and healthy? Well, I'm happy, but not super healthy. I've had some health issues over the years and nearly lost my life. Hugh? She asked me. I'm working on the happiness thing, and my health could use some improvements. Well, I hope you can escape this. You deserve something better. She whispered. We then talked for about 30 more seconds. Then, we prepared.

I pushed her against the small wall and we both started screaming again. And then, I was back in the correct bathroom, on the right plane. My heart was racing and I realized there were tears streaming down my face. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and opened the door. "Are you okay?" my mom asked. "Yeah, I don't think dinner sat right with me." I lied. There's no way she would have believed me. I sit back down and the flight home is as smooth as it could be.

But later, my aunt called me, saying she had the worst dream about a plane crashing due to a malfunctioning engine. She said there were only five survivors, including a 30-something blind woman pressed against a wall in the bathroom. The woman claimed that a good force held her in place, and she was eternally grateful that God allowed her a second chance. When they finally said who the woman was, my aunt nearly fell out of the chair.

The woman was myself, in a glittery sweatsuit with matching sneakers. I told her part of my experience. We both know that it was divine intervention, and now I believe God kept me alive through those health issues for a reason. The unique experiences he gives me are for the good of those around me, and even myself in a strange way. She said a few more things like, ''They were flying into a storm whereas we flew out of one last week.''

Her and her boyfriend would be getting married soon. She encouraged me to find that exact sweatsuit she'd been wearing, because it was chic and comfy. And she said that she was sorry for running from me. I told her that we're all good. I'm just thankful we both survived. And I'll tell you something else. I'm using the bathroom in the airport, not on the airplanes from now on. And last, I pray that I never switch realities again.

Hey Raven, I've come across your podcast recently and I've been binge watching it. And it made me think of several incidents in my life that made me think that I've switched realities, or have had glitches, or even died and switched my consciousness into another me. I'll send in others later, but this one just came to me now. This story is one where I think that I switched realities.

So when I was younger, my older sister and younger brother and I would play The Floor is Lava. Before we ever knew it was going to be a thing. We were all born in the 90s. My sister in 90, myself 93, and my brother in 96. Anyway, my brother came up with this game where we had to stay off the floor. Basically. He had a blue car bed when we were younger, so he would take the mattress out and place it somewhere on the floor, and a few other objects as well.

We could only touch the objects in the floor and walk around the frame of the car bed, as the floor was lava. But his words were, ''You fall into the fire and melt.'' Basically, something a three-year-old would initially say. ''We played this game for years. We all have kids now in present 2024. She has five, I have two, and my brother has one. One day at my sister's house, my kids and her kids were playing.''

I walked down the hall and saw them playing the exact same game that we all played as a child. This is where it starts to get freaky. My sister has three boys. The youngest is the same age as my son. He had a Thomas the Train bed, kind of like my brother's blue car bed. And they were doing the exact same thing as we were as kids. They took the mattress off out of the big plastic frame.

place it on the floor with a few other items, and we're playing The Floor is Lava, just like we used to. I explained to them the same story I told you in the beginning, the one of my brother inventing The Floor is Lava when he was three, how we all played the game until we were almost teenagers, even outside when we got bigger, and we all laughed and thought it was a coincidence just because it's a TV show now.

and my sisters just so happened to buy a similar bed for my nephew as my mother did for my brother when we were young. I walked up the hall laughing, and I went to tell my sister how funny it was that they were doing the exact same thing that we used to do as kids. She asked me what I meant.

I told her how they were playing, air quote, The Floor is Lava, the game that my brother invented when we were kids. And she had no idea what I was talking about. I was confused, so I explained. Do you not remember when we would come up with games as kids? And my brother's name invented the game where we couldn't touch the floor or we would fall into the fire and melt?

and how there's a TV show called The Floor is Lava. The kids upstairs are playing it just like we used to on, my brother's name's, Carbed. They took the mattress off and walked around the frame just like we did on his blue Carbed. She said, "'His bed was red, not blue, and we never played Fall in the Fire and Melt.' I said, "'Yes, we did, because you would always push me in on purpose to win.' She doesn't remember."

I even have a scar on my knee from her pushing me once as a kid while we were outside playing to win, and I cut my knee. She doesn't even remember me getting the scar. I'm totally convinced that I've swapped realities more than once, but as I was listening to your podcast, this one popped into my head, and I had to write it down immediately. I know a lot of people may think it's not a big deal, or maybe I dreamed it, or I'm just crazy,

But I remember playing this as kids. I even have that scar from the game and my sister doesn't remember it at all. I don't talk to my brother at the moment, so I haven't been able to ask him about this since it's happened. For literally proof that I'm not just making it up. Or that she's just faking not remembering. But this happens a lot more than you would think.

I'll go to my sister and ask, "Do you remember such and such from when we were kids?" And some things she remembers, but some she just doesn't. I've come to this conclusion that she either picks and chooses what she tells me that she remembers, because some things can be embarrassing and she just doesn't want to admit it, or I switched realities. Does anyone have anything like this that's happened to them, or have an explanation?

It's not only for the facets that my sister never remembers a lot of memories that I have from our childhood, but also, how would I remember my brother making up a game in 1999, when he was three, that is now a popular TV show today? I'm still mind-blown. Hey there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed this collection of scary stories on this episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast.

If the platform you're on has the option to follow podcast and you enjoyed my work, please do consider doing so. Also, leaving ratings and reviews are super important for the algorithm to support the growth of the podcast. I'm just one guy doing this. I don't have a team. It's literally just me doing everything. So any support like that is greatly appreciated. Never expected, though. So if you go above and beyond with that, I do appreciate it.

Some platforms also allow you to leave comments, and if you feel inclined to do so, please do. I would appreciate that. I do have a Patreon and a merch store that you can also check out if you want to support a little further. The Patreon side of things gets you early access to all of my content. It is formatted differently as it goes in line with what my YouTube channel is, but it is the same stories, just different collections.

There is also a website, astheravendreams.com, where you can check out pretty much everything about me, my social media platforms, fiction stories I've written if you want to read those, as well as submitting your own stories, which there's a big button on the front page you click to do so. And those stories basically keep the podcast alive, to be honest with you. So, yeah.

All that said, friends, I do hope that I see you again here very soon. Until then, remember that you are loved, that you are valid, that you are important. You're the best you that you can be. Don't forget it. And until next time, much love and sleep well.