ATRD Ep. 152 - Scary Carnival and Unexplained Horror Stories
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And as always, thank you. I have a pretty bad fear of heights. I've always had some slight fear, but as a kid, it was pretty irrational. I was never in a situation involving heights. Hell, the highest up I'd ever gone was on the playground climbing to go down the slide. The monkey bars, though, were out of the question. At least, my fear seemed pretty irrational.

until my family and I went to a local carnival one summer night back in the late 90s. I was about 11 at the time, and my family, which included myself, my older brother who was 14, my little sister who was 6, and my parents went to the carnival that came near our town every year. I did love going, but I loved the games more than the rides. I remember the drive always took forever.

according to my child's sense of time, but really, it was about a 45 minute drive. Anyways, I had a few of my favorite games and crafts that I liked to do, and there were a few rides that I would go on with my siblings as well. There weren't many my sister could go on yet, so one of my parents would always have to sit out to stay with her, but otherwise, one of our parents was always with us.

In fact, I was always willing to go on the rides my sister wanted because those were more of the so-called "kitty rides" ones that just slowly went in a circle or over slight bumps. Nothing that went too fast or up in the air or upside down. However, my brother was the opposite, and he loved the thrill of the roller coasters. He rode them all and would go multiple times if allowed.

He always tried to get me to go on some of the rides with him so we didn't have to go alone and sit by a stranger. My mom wasn't huge on those rides either, and while my dad was, he was also a very tall guy, so some of the rides, he just couldn't get his knees in so we couldn't go. Throughout this night, my brother, Cody, was constantly asking me to take different rides with him, but I was always saying no.

But then he asked me to go on the ferris wheel, a very large metal wheel that takes you straight up in the air, and there's nothing there to keep you in but the door. No thanks. But he begged, and begged, and talked about how it was the safest one. He said that all we had to do was sit in place and talk, and we would be fine. He even took me over to the wheel and was pointing out how they hardly moved. They didn't swing or anything of the sort,

and watching them, it did make me feel a bit better about it. So, I gave in, and I decided it was time to try and face my fears and take on one of the simplest rides. So, we walked up to the line, waited our turn as the operators slowly turned the wheels to fill the seats. There were bench seats on each end of the cars, which made sense to keep them balanced, and he allowed us to sit in the same cars and alone.

So, it was just going to be me and Cody in the one car. I contemplated where to sit, wanting to both sit by my brother knowing I would feel safer, but also part of me thought it was best to sit on the other side, and make it a little more balanced. I decided to go with the latter. I sat down and tightly gripped the lap bar as I waited for it to start moving. It slowly moved and stopped as the other cars filled, each jolt making me jump.

Finally, it started moving smoothly around and I tried to enjoy it. Once we got halfway to the top, I could no longer look down as it scared me too much. I looked straight up and did my best to enjoy the view of the skyline and the setting sun. Trying to distract me, Cody teased me about it not being so bad and talked about how cool the view was from the top.

I tried to let it pass and enjoy the moment, but once we got to the other side of the wheel, on the descent, there was a hard jerk in the seat, causing it to swing a little harder. I heard a few people in nearby cars scream, but then they laughed. It startled me. I thought something happened to the ride, and it was enough for me to tell Cody that I wanted off. We were kids, so I don't blame him now, but he pressured me to stay."

He guilt tripped me, saying that he would have to get off too and he wasn't ready yet, so I felt bad. I decided to stick it out, telling myself that it's a one time deal and that I would make it for another five minutes or so. We went back around again and there was another jolt as we neared the top. Cody saw my concern and he told me that they were just letting more people on, so it was going to be a moment. Once again, I couldn't look down.

It seemed to take longer than normal for them to start moving again, and I could tell because Cody was becoming impatient. Then, with another jolt, we started moving again. When we got to the descent, there was another hard jolt, and that time the car had a horrible swing to it. My anxiety was rising, and fast. I told myself that I would go around once more, and if they don't stop, I would ask them to.

Something wasn't right, and it was more than just my fear talking now. We went around again, and once more, there was a bad lurch when we reached the top. I assumed more people were getting on and waited, but once again, it seemed to take a while. Finally, it started moving again, but as we neared the top, there was a loud screech, and the car lurched hard.

This time, the screams that I heard below were not followed by laughter, and it immediately set me off. I asked Cody what had happened, and he leaned over the seat to check. He leaned over to check, and I pushed down on my lap bar in a nervous reflex, and that's when I heard the snap, and the bar no longer had any give. I looked down at the bar and saw that the bolt had come out. That lap bar was no longer holding me in place.

One thing I have not mentioned yet is that the cars didn't have any doors. They were open. That lap bar was the only thing keeping me in my seat and in the car. Now I was panicking. Cody heard the snap and looked back into the car and was trying to keep me calm. He told me to scoot to the center and to not move. He didn't have to tell me twice.

I closed my eyes and tried focusing on breathing as I listened to Cody mumble something about the ride. Then, the ride lurched forward several more times. It was like someone in a car was tapping the brakes repeatedly. The ride was no longer smooth and was just filled with jerking motions. We got across the top and back on the other side, about to make our descent. But then it stopped again, and with that jolt we heard a thud and more screaming.

Cody scooted over to the side closest to the entrance and looked down. And by the look on his face, I could tell that something wasn't right. I asked him what was wrong and he refused to say. I wanted to know what was going on, so I decided to look myself. I slowly moved towards the end. Unfortunately, it was the same side the bar broke and looked over the side. To my horror, I saw a car close to the bottom now sitting at an angle.

The bars holding it up must have broken or come undone on one side, and the car was leaning. I could see an adult in the seat that was suspended in the air, and they were leaning over, clearly trying to hold themselves up. I immediately started to panic. Why did their car break? Where was the right operator to help them out? I couldn't keep watching, so I went back to the center of the car, and I cried.

Our car didn't move for the longest time. I could tell Cody was scared too, but I couldn't help but ask him why we hadn't moved. Why were they not getting us off this thing? It felt like we were there forever, suspended in the air and nothing but a broken lap bar keeping me in place. Cody would look down and let me know that they were letting people off that were close to the ground, but for us, we were still high in the air.

I know I was a kid. I was a kid afraid of heights. But I thought that that was going to be my end. I was trapped in this car way up in the sky. There were no doors or anything keeping us there, and it seemed like it wasn't moving. How are they going to get us down? Somehow, even though I could tell he was just as scared, Cody did his best to try to keep us calm. He tried to distract me by playing a word game where I spy, and it did help.

He kept my mind occupied for the most part, but since it was late September, as the sun set entirely, it started getting colder and it was making it harder for me to focus. Finally, we heard someone on one of those megaphones speaking to us. They told us that help was on the way and to remain calm. It wasn't a fast process, but finally, we saw them trying to get the fire truck into the carnival grounds and a path to clear to us.

I remember when they finally got to our car. The ladder nudged the car and it set me into a panic again, knowing it wasn't secured very well. They had me come closer to them and they grabbed me and handed me to the fireman further down the ladder. Then I climbed down the rest of the way. I was never happier to be in my parents' arms. Then we watched as they got Cody out. His lap bar was fully functional and wouldn't open while suspended, so they had to break it.

and eventually have him wiggle out of the top. I remember the fear coursing through me again as I could see the top of his head. The thought of him having to almost stand in that car scared the hell out of me, but shortly after he climbed down the ladder on his own as well and ran over to us. He was shaky, obviously just as scared, but we were okay. We had been stuck on that ferris wheel for nearly two hours,

It certainly felt a lot longer than that, but even those two hours were grueling. Turns out, the ferris wheel was pretty old, and was probably not maintained like it should have been. Several bolts were messed up, and the jolts we felt were from it getting stuck. The operator was just turning it on and off again, trying to force it to go instead of getting everyone off. He continued the ride.

Thus, what caused it to finally stop in its place and not move again. Several years later, after talking to Cody and my parents about it, Cody told me that he looked down and saw our parents below who looked terrified, and he saw a girl in a car closer to the ground that looked passed out in the car with a man holding her hand. At his age, he thought she had died, and seeing our parents so scared made him think that something terrible had happened.

and that we may not get out of this. That is why he had gone silent. But yet he still tried to keep us calm, and I will never forget that. The girl was okay, though. She apparently was just scared, and tried to get out, but in her panic, she passed out. Cody didn't understand that at the time, and just saw an unconscious woman. All in all, we made it out semi-unscathed.

It was a very terrifying moment for me, and I'm honestly still afraid of heights today. Probably even worse now. But I don't blame Cody for pressuring me on the ride. I've also not heard many stories about Ferris wheels breaking down, so it's at least a relief that what I experienced is very rare. But I think I would rather not chance it, and just stay away from them.

Hello Raven. I wanted to start by saying that your podcast has quickly become one of my favorites. Back in July, I took an extended weekend road trip for my birthday, and I like to pass the time on the road listening to podcasts. On my drive back home that weekend, I ran out of new content to listen to on my usual cycle, and Spotify randomly played one of your shows. Since then, I've been listening every week and feel encouraged to share my story. Thank you.

I've always had a belief in the strange and mysterious when it comes to the unexplained, and I'm open to the idea of the paranormal. Cryptids, extraterrestrials, etc. I'm not a huge fanatic, but always had a fascination in these topics. With that being said, I don't have too many personal experiences with these topics. Any experiences I've had are relatively mild and nothing too freaky or wild.

But nevertheless, here's my story. The story centers on the house I grew up in. There were a handful of unexplainable phenomena. I somewhat forgot about them, and it wasn't until I started writing that I realized these unexplained experiences shared some similarities. The first topic I will share are the noises my house made. When my family moved into the house, I was very young. I want to say I was around the age of two or three.

and my parents lived in that house until I was in my mid to late 20s. The house itself was not very old. We were the second or third owners of the house. Based upon this information and the architecture of the house, I want to say that it was built sometime in the late 1970s to early 1980s. Our house made many interesting noises.

Living in this house most of my life, I grew accustomed to most of these noises and simply thought of them as typical noises a house would make. As I became accustomed to these noises, I forgot about them until one day in my early twenties, my girlfriend spent the night. The morning after that night, she said, "You know, your house makes a lot of weird creepy noises, right?" To which I agreed.

But my response was something along the lines of, "Yeah, I'm used to it." Also, side note before I'm judged too hard, I lived in this house with my parents until after I graduated college. I commuted to school and saved thousands a year in living expenses. I don't regret it. Anyways, back to the story. Most of these noises had an explanation to them.

I will share the most vivid noises I can remember, which centered on the noises that could be heard from my room. Every time the AC in the house would shut off after running, I could hear a metal tapping noise coming from the air vent in my room. What caused this noise, I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps it was condensation that collected in the AC vent, and then began to drip as the temperature in the vent changed. But it wasn't anything odd or creepy.

Another noise came from the window in the stairwell next to my bedroom. Our stairwell had a massive skylight leading from the main floor to the top floor. My bedroom was immediately at the top of the stairs, and so when my bedroom doors were open, I could hear noises coming from the skylight. The window in the skylight was similar to a big dome. The material did not look like typical glass, but appeared to be made out of a material similar to acrylic.

Also, there were layers within it, with an inner layer and an outer layer. It almost reminded me of the materials used to make airplane windows. Anyways, this window would make a steady popping noise occasionally. My assumption is that it had something to do with the changing temperature of weather.

combined with the heating and cooling of the setting sun, while also taking into account the temperature difference of the inside of my house versus the outside of the house causing these noises. Perhaps it was the rising and lowering of the temperatures causing an expansion and shrinkage of material that would cause these popping noises. The point I'm trying to convey is yes, there were a lot of weird noises, but most of these had a logical explanation behind them.

However, there was one noise that I can remember that I could not find a logical explanation behind. This was a noise I did not notice until I was in high school. This noise could only be heard from a specific part of the house. When you enter the front door and walk towards the back of the house, you will find the kitchen and living room area. This noise could only be heard in that part of the house, and it sounded like it was coming from outside.

It sounded like the thwack one hears when chopping wood, almost like the sound of someone chopping down a tree, but in a rhythmic thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, with each one being separated by one to three second intervals. This would go on for an hour or two. What was odd is that the noise could only be heard at night. We could not hear it every night, but heard it most nights. When I first heard it, I did a little bit of investigation.

I opened the windows to hear better. I tried looking out the back window into the neighbor's yard, but did not see anyone. The back of the house faced the back of our neighbor's house. Both our house and our neighbor's houses were built on the side of a hill. Picture houses built on adjacent hills, but the front entrances faced the front of each other's respectful hill, and then at the base of these hills was a creek that ran down the street.

We each had about 30 yards of backyard between the back of our houses and this creek. There was plenty of room to do activities like chopping wood, but I didn't see anyone chopping wood. Nor could I believe someone would chop wood for a few hours in the middle of the night. Again, I forgot about this noise until a few months later, when my mom noticed it as well.

What's odd is this noise, neither of us heard prior to this year. It wasn't one that our house made in the years prior, but we heard it for years after. We did some more investigation, stepping out the back door near the living room and walking along our back deck at night, peering into neighbors' yards. We also went out the back door in our basement that leads out beneath our deck, but we did not see anyone, but we could fairly hear the thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.

but no luck in finding the source. We continued to hear this on occasion for years to come, but with no explanation. Now, the unexplained noises ended there. There are no other noises I can remember in which I could not find a logical explanation besides this thwacking sound, but there was one other unexplained phenomenon that took place in the basement of that house. Our basement was very nice.

It was a finished walkout basement. For those who are unfamiliar with these terms, a finished basement means it has accommodations like walls, flooring, electrical, plumbing, etc. Our basement was more than a concrete or brick dungeon. It had carpet, multiple rooms, a little bar-like area, a bathroom with a toilet and a shower. Also, the basement was a walkout basement, meaning there is a door that leads outside.

As I said, our house was built into the side of the hills, so the top of the hill was level with the main floor, and the bottom of the hill was leveled with the basement. In the basement, one of the rooms had a small closet with a sump pump. This closet was about four feet wide, and seven feet long and near the back of the closet was the sump pump.

For those who don't know, a sump pump is a machine that pumps water out from underneath your house to a location further away to prevent the basement from flooding. Because your basement is underground, when water collects underground from heavy rains, it can flood your basement. This device helps to prevent the water from pooling under your house. What was peculiar is that this door locked from the outside

Someone could not lock themselves inside this closet, but someone could get locked into the closet from the outside. If I wanted, I could hold someone captive by locking them in this closet. The room it was connected to was repurposed several times while I lived there. It was a kid's toy room, then my mom's office, and finally a living space.

When it was a living space, sometimes my dad would sleep in this room on days where he needed to wake up early hours before my mom. Sometimes I would sleep down there because it was very cool in that room year round. Now, as a kid, I remember playing in this room. I would lock the closet door every day because the sound of the sump pump would scare me. Allow me to say that again. I would lock that door every day.

meaning someone or something would unlock it every day. At times, this would scare me and freak me out. That's why this room became my mom's office, because I would refuse to keep my toys in there and play in there. As the years passed, I forgot about this, until I came to sleep in this room as a way to find a cool place to sleep during hot summers. Again, I would lock this door,

only to find that someone or something had unlocked it. Now, when I was older and locked it, it would not be unlocked the exact following day, but perhaps 16 to 72 hours later. It would then be unlocked. All this time, both as a child and in my late teens slash early twenties, when I found the door unlocked, I would ask my parents or sister if they went into this room, but they would deny this, meaning no one in my family had unlocked the door.

The lock was a privacy doorknob lock, featuring a thumb-turn locking mechanism, meaning the locking mechanism was in the door handle itself. There was a little latch on the doorknob one would twist to lock it. To lock and unlock the door, you would need to twist the thumb turn 90 degrees. Now, how do these two unexplainable phenomena connect? Remember how I said behind our house was a deck?

Well, near the southeast corner of our house, about ten feet from the foundation, was a massive tree stump. What's odd is that our deck was built over the top of it. Whoever built the deck decided not to remove the stump, but instead built over the top of it. It stood about two and a half feet high, with a circumference of about six feet, slowly rotting from the inside out.

Just on the other side of the wall from that tree stump was the room with the door that never stayed locked. I have no clue when this tree was chopped down. It could have been well before the house was built, or just about the time the house went up. I do not know how it was chopped down, perhaps by a chainsaw or perhaps by hand. Why was the stump left, and the deck being built over it, I don't know.

This might be a stretch, but perhaps someone or something is destined to chop down that ghost tree, creating the thwack, thwack, thwack we hear on certain nights. Then, when done chopping down the tree, this spirit, for lack of a better term, would head inside to the nearest corner of the house, unlocking that closet door in the process, or, as you can see...

I sometimes have an active imagination. Perhaps these are all strange coincidences with nothing in common. Perhaps the thwack noise can be easily explained and the door unlocking is the result of metal heating and cooling in that basement, but who knows? Now, at some point, this tree stump was finally removed by my parents. I just can't remember when.

About three to eight years before my family sold the house, they had some termite damage, and as preventative maintenance to help resolve the termite problem, this rotting tree stump was finally chopped up and hauled out. At this point, I was no longer living in the house, so I'm unsure if this solved the unexplained noise and the closet door that never seemed to remain locked.

Besides these two weird items, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to take place in my mind, at least nothing malevolent in nature. If I remember anything else weird happening in that house, I will write back, but as I said in the beginning, living there so long, I just became used to the weird stuff, and found somewhat logical explanations to these happenings.

To finish, I just wanted to say thank you for your time and Raven, keep doing what you do. I really enjoy it and I enjoy hearing the stories from listeners like me. Want to shop Walmart Black Friday deals first? Walmart Plus members get early access to our hottest deals. Join now and get 50% off a one-year annual membership. Shop Black Friday deals first with Walmart Plus. See terms at walmartplus.com.

Hello, I'm newer to your channel, but I had something happen to me over the summer that I wanted to share, because while it was terrifying for me, I have no idea what caused it or why it happened in the first place. I had gone to a friend's house for a birthday party that was a little over an hour away from my home. I'm only 22, but I've never been much of a drinker, so the plan was to be there for a few hours and then drive myself back home.

I got to the party around 4pm, and we all had a blast. We regrettably started a game of Monopoly that took a lot longer than I think most of us expected. I also wasn't willing to give up my spot, as I was winning. Yes, I'm competitive. Anyways, our game went on so long that we ended up ordering pizza, and I didn't leave until nearly 11pm.

I could feel the day catching up with me, but I wasn't at the point that I was worried about falling asleep behind the wheel. However, my friend did offer to let me stay there for the night, but since I had to work the next day, I needed to get home. So I said my farewells and headed out, hoping the breeze and some music would help to keep me awake. As I mentioned, it was late, so the highway was pretty empty.

I had a good drive ahead of me and I was ready to get home, so I may have been going a little faster than I should have. I'm not talking crazy, but probably around 10 over. Like I said, there weren't many cars on the road as is, and I stayed to the right, so I just focused on getting home. It was a normal drive in the beginning, up until the white convertible came flying up behind me. And when I say that, I'm not exaggerating.

I can admit that I was going a little over the speed limit, but I saw the car's headlights weave out from behind another car, get back over, and then catch up to me. At first, I feared it was a cop that may have clocked me, so I started slowing down. But then I noticed they didn't have their lights on, so maybe it wasn't a cop. One thing that was consistent was that they still weren't slowing down.

It was one of those moments when you see a car in front of or behind you that's going way too fast, and you brace yourself expecting an impact. That's what I did. This guy was still barreling towards me, and I knew I was going to get hit. But to my surprise, instead of hitting me or even swerving to the left lane, they slowed down and stayed behind me. And now they were behind me. I could tell that it wasn't a cop either.

That's when I noticed that it was a convertible, so my thought changed to it was just some jerk driving all over the road. He was only proving my theory when he started riding my bumper. I wanted to brake check him because I wasn't liking how he was driving, but instead, I put it in cruise control to go one over the speed limit and waited, hoping he would soon pass me. Instead, he stayed behind me for several miles, getting really close and then backing up.

I kept eyeing him, as if I could figure out what their problem was through the mirror, but then they started honking and even flashing their brights at me. Seriously, I had no idea what this guy's problem was. Why not just go around? I finally got sick of the guy and tapped my brakes, but that seemed to do something to him. He backed off, and then out of nowhere he actually hit my bumper.

It wasn't enough to knock me off the road or anything, but I could feel the slight lurch from it. Now I was mad because I doubt he was going to stop to record any damage. But here I was in the middle of the highway, almost midnight, with some maniac hitting me. I honestly didn't know what to do, so I just slowed down even more hoping that going under the speed limit would entice him to move on. I get it, you win, just leave me alone.

Finally, I started to get a small sense of relief when he swerved over to the left lane. I thought he was finally going to move on. I just hoped that any damage he did was minimal and that maybe I could catch his plate when he passed me. But I should have known it wasn't going to be that simple. He got over and was now right beside me. I was nervous, but I wanted to make eye contact with this person. Who was this crazy jerk? I looked over and the guy had turned on the interior light.

He was wearing a red shirt and cap, but the part that stood out to me was the gun in his right hand, pointing directly at me. I didn't think, I just reacted. I ducked down, slammed my brakes, and swerved over to the shoulder. The convertible kept going, and when I looked up after a few seconds, he was long gone.

I was shaking, terrified that I could have been shot or even maybe he could come back or be waiting for me up the road. And the worst part? I had a very vague description and no license plate number. I stayed where I was and I called the cops. That way I could at least report that he hit me. It was a hit and run at this point, even if they couldn't prove or do anything about the gun. I did look at my bumper.

I have a deep blue Ford and while the dent wasn't very prominent, there were some white paint scuff marks. The cops arrived and I explained everything to them and they seemed skeptical at first. I say that because they kept asking me if I was sure that I didn't know the person. Did I piss someone off on the road earlier or cut them off? Even asking if I was racing them. I was driving an old Festiva. I'm not racing anyone in that thing.

They got my information, took pictures of my car, and that was it. I took pictures too so I could give them to my insurance and see if there was anything they could do. I won't sit here and lie. I was terrified to drive home. I was worried he was legitimately going to be parked somewhere and waiting for me. However, I did get home with no more incidents. I ended up taking a road parallel to the highway, not wanting to give that guy a chance.

To this day, I still have no idea what his problem was. From what I could make out, he did not look familiar. I still can't think of anyone that would have known where I was at that exact moment, that could have been messing with me, nor could I think of anyone that was pissed off at me to follow and threaten me with a gun. So, was he just mad and wanted to ruin someone else's night? Was he playing a really bad prank and wanted to scare someone? I still have no idea.

I'm just as clueless today as I was a few months ago. It terrifies me to think that he may still be out there doing that to other people, and the thought that he had a gun, that he could just use it at any time to an innocent person on the road, makes it just as terrifying now as it did that night. One of my favorite things to do as a kid was go to the carnival or the local festivals in our area.

The only thing I didn't like about them was when we had to leave. I loved the rides, the games, even if I rarely won. I loved the mazes, and the funhouses they had. All of it. I have a lot of great memories from them, but this one that I'd like to tell you about was one of my less favorable memories. I believe I was around 8 or 9 at the time.

I felt that I was very independent for my age, even if my parents didn't allow it. They wouldn't let me just wander off, but that didn't mean that I never tried. I wasn't an only child, so I would often try to get their permission for a certain ride or game, and then just run off to wait in line. So, the trip this year was no different to me. I would ask for money for what I wanted to do and take off.

My parents following close behind me and telling me to come back and wait with them. Every year I would try my hand at the bottle game. I would fail because it's not like I was very strong, but I still enjoyed it. It was like a goal for me every year to try and beat that game and win one of those giant stuffed animals. We'd probably been there for a good hour or so when we found ourselves in the Halloween part of the grounds.

They had some games, a few spooky rides, as well as a children's haunted house. I didn't scare easily, so I wanted to check it out too. Once again, I ran to the line to wait, and my mother slowly caught up with me. It was just going to be the two of us going in, and we got in immediately, and it was pitch dark in there. They had some eerie background music playing, and from ahead, I could hear people screaming.

One part had these flaps you had to walk through that was also a corn maze. It was hard enough with it being dark, but the flaps kind of made you disoriented, and you could easily get turned around, which is what seemed to happen. I was walking alongside my mother until I hit a dead end and backed into her. She then grabbed my hand and we continued on walking through the maze.

Once through, I let go of her hand again and continued towards the exit, where she once again grabbed my hand. I obliged, as we were leaving the haunted house anyways. But as we exited, I looked up and realized that the hand I was holding was not my mom's, but was actually a different woman's. I let go, and she laughed, saying that my mom had asked her to keep an eye on me.

I'm sure I had a skeptical look on my face, but she knelt down and assured me that she was a very good friend with Rhonda, my mom's name. To me, the fact that she knew my mom's name immediately assured me that this was legit. There was no way that it could have been a lie knowing that. I asked her for her name, and she said it was Charlotte and that she used to go to school with my mom. Again, everything seemed to check out in my little mind, so I went with it.

I asked where she was now, and Charlotte said that she may still be in the house, but that we could catch up with her after we were finished. Then, she asked me if I wanted to play some more games. It was seeming like I was going to have exclusivity to Charlotte, and that I would get to play all the games I wanted to without the delays. That was something that I was very quickly on board for. She grabbed my hand, and we walked off to our next destination.

She actually let me play a lot of games, but some of the rides she wouldn't let me go on. After we explored for a while, she then asked me if I wanted something to eat, and we headed to all the various food booths. We always had dinner before we went to the carnival, so I wasn't very hungry, but I didn't dare say no to the funnel cake that she offered. As we sat and ate, she pulled out her phone and said that it was my mom calling.

She started talking and told her about all we had done so far, and then it appeared that she was asked a question. She looked at me and asked, "'Your mom wants to know if you just want to stay with me for the night, and she can come pick you up in the morning?' I remember asking if I can, and she laughed, saying yes, and then told my mom that she would be seeing us tomorrow. After she was off the phone, she explained how she had a daughter just like me, but that she was much older now."

She said she still had her room set up with all of the toys and kids clothes though, so I was welcome to stay in her room. I was so excited at this point. I got to play games, go on rides and have desserts all night. Then I was going to be able to stay at Charlotte's and have even more fun. We tossed our trash and she asked if I was ready to go. I was able to do a lot of what I wanted and being more than satisfied, I agreed.

She gently grabbed my hand like she had been, and we started walking towards the back of the carnival. There was a parking lot in the back too, but my family had parked in the front. As we got closer to the exit, I saw a man sitting on a nearby bench, hunched over and looking at his hands. He must have heard us approaching because he looked up at us, and he looked angry. As soon as he made eye contact, Charlotte let go of my hand.

We got close to the exit, and she started rifling around with her purse. The man got up and walked over to us, said something to Charlotte about taking too long. At that point, she no longer appeared to be the same woman. Her voice dropped, and wasn't the higher-pitched sweet voice that she used with me. It was sharp and deep. She said something like, "'Back off' to him."

and I watched as she pulled out cigarettes and lit one, with her hands now shaking. This guy put his hand on my shoulder to push me forward, but I didn't budge, now becoming a bit scared. I asked who the guy was, and he said, ''None of your business. Let's go.'' I did my best to stand in place when Charlotte approached me and tried to grab my hand and pull me along, too.

She wasn't the soft and kind woman that first approached me and had confused and scared me. She said that we needed to go, and I just thought back to those lessons we learned in school about strangers and how you should have a password with the loud people. The problem with this was that my family never used the password or code method. I thought it sounded really cool, but we never did it, or seemed interested in it. So I did the next best thing that I could think of.

Charlotte had been calling me Katie, which was my nickname that only friends and family used, so I asked her what my name was. She tried to blow it off by saying, ''We don't have time for this, Katie. It's getting late.'' But I kept yelling at her to tell me my name. The man started to say something, but she told him to go get in the car. As he walked away, she knelt down and said that she was sorry, but she was just tired, and said matter-of-factly that my name was Catherine, but it was the wrong answer.

My name was actually Katrina, and a lot of people assume it's Catherine based on my nickname. I knew at this point that this person was lying. I started screaming that I wanted to go back, and she kept arguing that I already agreed to go with her, like it was some kind of binding contract. She grabbed my arm and started pulling me as a car pulled up beside her. I managed to step on her foot, she was wearing open-toed sandals, and she screamed at me,

She let go of my arm and I backed up, ready to run, but I stopped. To this day, I don't know why I stopped. Part of me was scared that I just hurt an adult and that I was going to be in trouble, but I knew I needed to get away from her. I started walking backwards, back towards the carnival, when I saw a couple entering with two kids. It was like they knew the minute that we made eye contact.

The woman approached me, and I immediately grabbed her hand and started crying. I could tell that she was taken aback, but then she asked me if I was okay. I looked back at the woman called Charlotte, and she was already getting in the car. The woman stood by me as we watched them take off, tires squealing on the way out. The woman asked me if I knew who that person was, and I said that I didn't know. I thought she was my mom's friend, but I couldn't remember ever meeting her before.

She asked me if my parents were here, and I told her that I thought so, or that I hoped they hadn't left without me. I was still young. I feared that maybe Charlotte was just telling the truth and she was a friend, but maybe she was just mean. Luckily, the woman asked to pick me up, and for some reason I accepted. She at least seemed more trusting than Charlotte, and I guess since she was here with another kid, it felt right.

As we walked in, she assured me that she would help me find my parents, and she told her husband that she would meet up with them afterwards. She took me to the booth where you could buy game and ride tickets in advance, instead of at each one, and she told them that she found a lost kid and that they needed to call the police. She then bought me a bottle of water, and we waited on a nearby bench.

She talked to me like Charlotte did, which sometimes upset me, thinking I was just going to go through it all a second time, but at the same time, she seemed different. She talked about her son, too, said that he was close to my age. As we talked, a few people approached us and asked questions about my parents, and then finally, after some time, I heard someone yell my name. I looked over and saw my parents approaching with my two siblings.

I ran over to my mom, and I didn't want to let her go. She held on to me, but scolded me at the same time for running off after the haunted house. I had to explain to her how someone grabbed my hand in there, and how I thought it was her. Then I explained Charlotte to her, and she confirmed that she didn't know anyone named Charlotte.

They talked to the woman that stayed with me and thanked her, and then we had to give the police a statement, since it was an attempted kidnapping. By the time it was all said and done, the woman had left, and my siblings and I were falling asleep on the bench while the adults finished up. The next morning, my parents had an even longer talk with me about strangers, and finally we agreed on a password. This way, if it ever happened again, I could use it and I would know.

Thankfully, I never had to use it. But I learned a very, very valuable lesson. Charlotte, or whoever she was, did a great job at making it all seem real. She even made sure she knew my nickname so she could talk to me. So, if something seems off, no matter your age or how much someone's story checks out, go with your gut. It's trying to tell you something for a reason.

Hey, so, every season one of my neighboring towns has a fair that takes over the main street. The road is then blocked for the duration. There's a summer one, a winter, an autumn, and also spring fair. Each have their own specialties and themes. My friends and I go to them every year to pass the time. One year it was especially dull with few things of interest, and we were preparing to leave to go find something else to do.

I noticed my friend, let's call her Gabby, was talking to a rather hippie-looking couple. I didn't say anything because she's quite the social butterfly and loves meeting new people. Katie, my other friend, and I were spending some time together at one of the stalls browsing. It was mainly random items at food stores and local produce that was brought in.

I live in an area that borders the rural areas and also has a pretty large migrant community, so there's always plenty of variety. Once we were done, we grabbed some food and saw Gabby still talking to that couple, except this time she was joined by other hippie-looking people. I don't judge how people choose to dress, I just want to make that clear, but that's the best way that I can describe how they were dressed.

We walked over to say hi, and we were greeted with extremely happy, over-the-top greetings. I instantly felt uncomfortable by it, but neither of my friends did. They told us about their community where they liked to sing songs, and they told us they had a cafe in the Blue Mountains, and that we would be welcome to come. They said that we would be going home. I really don't like that kind of talk.

They gave us some cookies, I chose not to eat mine just to be safe, and pamphlets about their organization. Most of it was religious dribble about suffering, and how to make the world a better place. I politely said no thank you, but my other friends read it, and so I got the chance to look afterwards. After I spoke with them, we gave each other the signal that it was time to leave, and most of them said goodbye and that they hoped to see us soon.

We giggled and walked to Katie's car when we noticed one of them following us. Gabby and I were creeped out while Katie thought it was nice, so she turned around and started speaking to her thanking them for being so nice. This cult member asked for our emails and I said I didn't have one. I know it's dumb, but still. Katie hesitated while Gabby willingly gave over her real email address.

I bring this up because it's important for later on. We got into her car. The lady with that creepy damn smile on her face pressed her face against the window, telling us that she was so excited to meet us and wanted to see us soon. We laughed about it on the way home, and we joked about how awkward it would be seeing them the year after. Our group chat got a screenshot of an email that she had received from the place, and we laughed about it.

She said that she replied and said thanks but no thanks, paraphrasing her. Hers was much more long-winded, but you get the idea. She kept receiving emails from that account. Eventually, we recommended to her that she blocked them and she did, but that didn't stop them from emailing her from other accounts. Each one she blocked only for them to contact her from another email.

They would contact her anywhere that email was associated with, stating how concerned they were for her and that she was always welcome with them. It also meant they were able to find her through Facebook, and thus her real-life name and where she worked. They contacted her there, too. For months, it was a complete mess. And then, out of the blue, they just left her alone. Gabby didn't want to go to any of the fairs after that in case it started up again.

The next time we went was, I think, a year or so later. Now, I'm not going to name the cults or the establishment, as it is known what they are, but their cafe is still open as far as I'm aware. And apparently the food is supposed to be really good, too. We didn't see them the last time or any other time we've been there. Not sure why. I don't know if they've been banned or something.

I also want to say that I've been watching your channel for a while now, Raven, and I really love your accent. Thanks, I think. Hi, Raven. I'm a big fan of your channel. I've been watching your videos for about half a year now, so whenever I need to distress or relax, I turn on your videos. I find your content calming and creepy and yet interesting, which has finally inspired me to share a few of my stories to get them off my chest.

My earliest memory takes me back to my childhood home in the Midwest, where I'm originally from. I was around six years old back in the year of 2006, I believe. Growing up from a very small age, I always had constant nightmares which traumatized me to the core, but it became normal for me soon after. However, this one night was... interesting. After I woke up from a nightmare that I had routinely...

I distinctively remember immediately looking straight at a Mickey Mouse picture hanging over the dresser, which was my favorite picture, by the way. It was a picture of Mickey and Minnie Mouse sitting in front of the fire drinking hot chocolate at night in their living room. All of a sudden, the picture just dropped out of nowhere, falling behind the dresser and breaking, which had left me confused. The nails on the wall were perfectly strong and aligned,

so I don't understand why it would fall. After all, that picture has been hanging there for quite a few years, with nobody ever touching it. I also had shared a room with my twin sister then, so the funny thing was that years later after that incident happened, I told my sister about it, and she remembers waking up at the exact same time as me, and experiencing watching the picture fall and break as well.

This may not be anything. However, sometimes at night, after our mom would pick out our clothes for school, she would turn off the closet light, shut the closet door, and leave the room. Only to find myself waking up in the middle of the night, to the closet light being on again. This would scare me. I would ask my mom if she turned it on, but she would always reply with a no. A year later, so in 2007 I believe, another creepy incident had happened.

My sister and I were sleeping at our grandparents' house, which was built by my great-grandfather by hand. It's so full of history and rich memories, so that house still means a lot to me. Even though my grandparents don't live there anymore, they downsized to a smaller house. Anyways, me being the scaredy cat that I was, I always felt comfortable sleeping across the room from my grandparents upstairs, instead of sleeping downstairs in our girls' room.

The room that our grandfather had made for my sister and I. That one night, when my sister and I were sleeping, I remember waking up laying on my back and not being able to move. I was too scared to get up and use the bathroom as well, so I just laid there. However, the room looked a bit off, and when I slightly turned my head and eyes to the left of me...

I kid you not. I saw a long arm with a hand slowly raising above my head and then covering my eyes swiftly. I felt the dryness of the hand too before I passed out. Then in the morning I woke up and it was back to normal. I haven't talked about it ever since then. Until the year 2021. I mentioned it to my mom randomly one day and she mentioned that the same thing had happened to her when she was a little girl.

In that very same house. In that very same room. So that really makes me think that there's more about the house and its history. I really don't know what else to say about this, as it could mean anything. Although I do have a few more incidents that happened to me when I was a child, I won't mention them all here for the sake of time. But, the last one that I would like to share with you was when I moved to the South. I believe it was the year 2013.

It was a hot day. I was in the car with my mom and a family friend of ours. I loved and still love to go and visit different gravesites slash cemeteries. As I go there to pay respects to those who have passed on, I once even had visited part of the gravesite where some slaves were buried at, which was very emotional. However, back to the story.

My mom, our friend, and I were driving in a small neighborhood and came across this small cemetery that was in the center of the neighborhood. I wanted to check it out, and so we did. After about 15 minutes of looking around and reading some of the names of who had passed, I saw a small tombstone which was of a little child, very young, died within a couple of years.

It made me sad, but I eventually moved on and walked back to the car as I couldn't stand the heat. The windows were all rolled down too, and as soon as we all were seated inside the car and strapped up, my mother was turning on the car as I heard a small high voice to the right of the car saying, ''Thank you.'' I turned to my right and looked around to see if any neighbors had come out. Nobody was there. I turned to the left and then behind me. Nobody was there.

I then turned to the gravesite, in which I heard the voice coming from, and then turned to my mom and our friend. To my surprise and relief, my mom said, ''Did you hear that?'' She turned to our friend, and then she replied with a, ''Yeah, I heard it too.'' Both confused, they looked around to find the source, but to no avail. I then mentioned to my mother, saying, ''I heard it too, but it came from that way,'' as I was pointing to the graveyard.''

This has left us all confused and speechless, as we couldn't find anyone outside to support the claim. So, my mom gave up and began to drive away. As I was looking at the sight, giving it one last glance, I looked up, smiled, and quietly said, "'You're welcome. This may sound weird. Even though I'm not sure what's to believe in, I believe it was one of the little children I had paid my respects to, saying those words to us in appreciation.'"

This one incident that gave me a little warmth and comfort in the end. Additionally, something I want to add, is that the gravesite that I just mentioned probably doesn't get many visitors, as the maintenance of it was somewhat unkempt, and it looked run down. Sooner or later, I hope I could find a conclusion and source as to why these events happened. I think of it every now and then, as it does hold some meaning to me as well.

I do apologize if my experiences weren't as exciting, but it means a lot to know that I'm not the only one who experiences unexplainable events in their lives. Recently, I haven't experienced anything, but if I were to, this channel would be the first to know. This was just a boring Friday night. All my brothers and sisters seemed to have somewhere to go or something to do.

My parents had to help a friend with something, so it was just me, myself, and I. I wasn't too upset about it. I could always find something to entertain my tween mind, but I was under strict orders to not leave the house under any circumstances. Which, as you all will find out, I didn't listen. Anyway, I sat there thinking about the creek behind our apartments.

"'All the teens went down there to smoke, make out, listen to music, and everything else teenagers do. "'Because I was still young, I couldn't go without a friend or sibling, "'but tonight I vowed to be a big girl and go hang with all the other kids. "'I would be back in time,' I told myself. "'Little did I know I was making a huge mistake. "'I was about to learn why parents had certain rules and that people aren't always as they seem.'

So, I grabbed my boombox, yes, I'm showing my age a little bit, and headed down the small path through the trees, straight to the creek bank. Music blaring, wind in my hair, but then I called out to everyone, and I knew that something wasn't right. I turned down the music and stood very still. The air, usually cool and crisp this time of year, was thick and smelled metallic. What? I thought. It's Friday. Where is everybody?

Then I heard it. A disturbing, crying sound. It sounded like a cross between a woman singing and sobbing. It chilled me to the bone. I edged closer to the creek and then heard it again. It kind of sounded like it was coming from beneath the water. I took off my shoes and waded in up to my knees and it got louder. Kelly? Lisa? Dave? Melissa? Howie? Renee? I called out, hoping that some of them were just playing a joke on me.

No answer. Oh god, I thought, what is this? And then I saw it. A bright light in front of me which glowed a bright blue. A motor kicked on. And then I felt something hot crashed into my leg. It didn't knock me over, but I did stumble quite a bit. And then the crying sound became a wail. I reached down to my leg and grabbed onto the thing that hit me. It was a light fixture, lit up with a small fan-like structure attached to his base.

As soon as I lifted out of the water, I heard a robotic male voice say, "'Don't touch us, little girl. We will electrocute you, and then we will have no choice but to leave you here. You should have stayed your disobedient self at home like your daddy told you to. We know everything that goes on here, and your friends, well, some of them might not exactly live here. You see, you don't know anything.'"

So unless you're ready to meet your demise, I suggest you let go of me, turn around, and head home. And no, she isn't hurting. She's one of us. And no, we're not aliens and not demons. And we're not robots. If you get a top clearance, you'll find out who and what we are. Now, for the last time, get your hands off of me. It yelled. Not before I heard it hum and felt some strong vibrations. I just threw him, or it, away.

and started running. I snatched my boombox on my way and never looked back. But I was suddenly stopped by, I guess, another one? I felt the harsh smack on the side of my head, saw the bright orange light and heard an even more disturbing voice say, "You should have stayed home. Tell, and I will kill you." Slowly and painfully, "It's a shame you didn't get to meet the one you were investigating. She has a blade."

It hissed, clicked, and started wailing right in my ears. I was almost disoriented by the sound, but I kept running. I didn't relax until I was safely inside the apartment, with the door locked. I didn't even realize I was crying. I checked my leg and face. No bruises or burns, but what the hell was that? I grabbed the phone and started calling neighbors, but the things were right. Some of those kids didn't live there.

Some of the moms just chalked it up to the neighbor kids bringing friends home from school, but when I told one of them where I had been tonight, she immediately got silent. I kept saying hello until she finally said, ''I'm sending Kelly over. You don't need to be alone.'' She was over almost as soon as I hung up. She just hugged me and said, ''Yeah, I know what you saw, but I don't know what it is.'' We sat there waiting, praying that someone would come home and explain everything.''

I didn't care about getting in trouble. I was just afraid and curious. My brother came home first. He was mad at me, but he never ratted me out. He just told me that the government had done some projects and training back there, and some of those kids were young recruits. Every second Friday, third Monday, first Saturday, and fourth Wednesday were testing days, but most of the time it was just teenagers hanging out.

He said that my dad wanted me to know nothing of this, because I already have a vivid imagination, still do to this day. No one knows exactly what those things are, but whatever, who or what they are, they're extremely dangerous. I've done some extensive research to try and figure out what I tangled with that night, and I've only found one thing where a girl said she dreamed about seeing something like this outside of her house.

But that's still nothing, really. Can anyone tell me what that was? Should I just forget that I saw it? Should I have even written this story? I don't know. All I know is this. Sometimes it's best to just chill out and take people's advice. I'm still curious, but I always proceed with caution. You should, too. To answer your questions, no, I never got a top clearance. I had to be bribed to ever go near that creek again,

but did eventually go back with my brothers. But never ever on those days. And even in the heat of July, I just sat there while everyone else got in. I still enjoyed hanging out with everyone though, but I didn't look at them all the same. We only stayed there for two more years after that, but none of us will ever forget that strange little apartment building with the creek in the back.

I'm not sure how to classify this, but I wanted to share a story about something that happened to a friend and I at a state fair we went to last month. It was a Saturday night, and my friend Clarissa and I had made plans to go about a week prior. We loved going to festivals, but this one was one of our favorite because of a vendor that always came there that had the best elode and kettle corn.

We spent the night riding the Ferris wheel, played a few games, and even enjoyed the live show. We didn't know any of the songs playing, but after a few drinks, we could really dance to anything. But this event that I'm going to tell you about kind of expanded throughout our night. As we got to the Ferris wheel, I looked over at the people from below and saw a man taking photos of the crowds.

He was dressed normally, wearing jeans and a button-up shirt that was open, with nothing underneath it. He had shoulder-length hair pulled back and a hair tie and had a baseball cap on. He just seemed like a normal photographer, maybe independent, maybe trying to get some candid photos of the crowds for the festival. But what caught my attention was that the guy was using a Polaroid camera.

I would expect to see someone with a digital camera with all the fancy lenses, but surprisingly, I only saw him using the Polaroid. I saw the flash go off, the Polaroid came out the front, and I watched him as he waved it and smiled at the crowd. I thought it was different, but I liked it. I liked that this guy was using something a bit more retro and seemed to be enjoying himself. No harm done.

As we exited the Ferris wheel, I saw the camera guy walking towards us. He greeted us and asked if we were enjoying our time, and we said yes. Then, he asked if he could take our picture, and we agreed. The fact that he asked about the fair made me think that he probably was hired to take photos, and maybe the Polaroids were just part of a theme he was going for. He took two photos of us, gave us one, and thanked us.

Then he pulled out a digital camera and asked if we'd be willing to take a few more photos of us looking at the Ferris wheel. Pointing at it, that sort of thing. That's really what made me think he was probably contracted. We agreed, thinking an impromptu photo shoot would be fun and turned around to start. We at first just pointed at it and laughed because it looked silly from our side. But then it just became natural.

We were pointing things out, talking, laughing. The guy then made a comment implying he was done, so we turned around to see him put away the camera and said that we did great. He got a little closer and asked us if we were models, and we said no. He complimented us saying that we could be with how natural we seemed posing and not looking stiff.

After a few seconds of that, he looked around and got even closer to us, like he didn't want anyone to hear the next part. That's when things got creepy. He said if we were interested in modeling that he could get in touch with some people and that could help us get started with our portfolios. We weren't interested in modeling. It's not like we were in the best shape anyways, so it was odd that he would approach us, of all people.

But I was curious as to where he was going with this whole thing, so I took the bait. He had this grin on his face that was no longer the nice smile that he greeted us with. It was kind of gross. He said that we could make a lot of money taking some special pictures and videos, because we were the perfect shape and size. He even said that he had a studio we could go check out first too, so that way we would know he was legit.

I was at a loss for words. It was completely unexpected and threw me off that I just stood there, feeling my face get hot. Clarissa was never the type to clam up, though. She immediately told him that he was gross and that we weren't interested, and that he needed to walk away before she did something she would regret. The guy just laughed and walked away, saying his offer was still good for the night.

We both walked away in the opposite direction of him and just tried to cool off for a moment. We weren't about to let him ruin our night though, so after getting it out, we went to find our favorite vendor and enjoyed a snack before we continued on. Afterwards, we went down the lane with all the games and picked some out to play. While I was waiting for Clarissa, I was looking around and spotted the camera guy again still taking photos.

But what I noticed when I looked over at him was that he was once again looking at us. I think he realized I noticed him because I saw him quickly move his camera in another direction, which kind of confirmed my suspicions. I'm not the type to try and cause conflicts, so I acted like I didn't see him and put my attention back on Clarissa. Besides, it's not like we could stop him from taking pictures in public places anyways.

After a few of the booth games, we noticed that they had a small mini-golf set up, and we decided to see how good we were at it, after the few drinks that we'd had. The answer was, not very good, but we were having a blast. But towards the end of the tenth hole, Clarissa got close and said quietly, ''Don't look now, but I think that camera guy's following us, and I confirmed that I saw him earlier too.''

Normally, we wouldn't think much of this, but with his creepy suggestion and him being everywhere we went, it made it feel like he was following or even stalking us. It also didn't help that, every time Clarissa looked, he had the camera pointing at us, and he would quickly move like he was caught, making it obvious that his attention was on us. We did our best to ignore him and finish our game, and then immediately walked off to find something else to do to try and escape him.

But no matter where we went, even when we walked through the funhouse and tried to delay there, he was around, seemingly waiting for us. I know it was just pictures, but it was weird to fixate on us, especially after what he said. Not to mention it was pretty obvious when he showed up everywhere we went, despite the large number of people.

We were honestly getting a bit annoyed and creeped out, so I suggested that we just leave. It was getting close to 11 anyways, and they started shutting down at midnight. If we left then, we could avoid the crowd of cars trying to leave at the same time. Clarissa seemed conflicted though, and wanted to confront the guy, but I talked her out of it. However, as we were heading out, we saw the guy once more, and I guess it was enough to set her off.

"'He had just taken a picture with the Polaroid, and we both saw the flash. "'She immediately approached him, doing her fake smile that I knew so well, "'and asked the guy if he got enough. "'He looked at her confused, and then she said, "'The pictures, asshole. How many did you take of us?' "'He gave a nervous laugh and said, "'Oh, not many.' "'He didn't even deny it. He just said, "'Not many?' "'Clarissa demanded to see the pictures he took, but he refused to show us.'

He tried to walk away, but she kept following him, demanding the pictures of us. Apparently, there was a cop nearby that had showed up due to an unrelated event, and he heard us shouting at the guy. At this point, we had gotten the attention of some others, and another guy actually came up and took our side, demanding to see the photos too. The cop approached us and asked what was going on, and we explained what had happened.

To my surprise, another woman walked up to us with a younger child and asked what was happening, and she told the cop that the camera guy had made some weird comments to her about her daughter as well. She said they just walked away and tried to avoid him after that, though. So now there were four of us on this guy's case, a cop standing with us, and people starting to look at us to figure out what exactly was happening.

The cop tried to calm everyone down and simply asked the man to see the photos, but he still refused. He did however confirm that he was there to take pictures himself for his art project, and that he wasn't any type of paid work for the fair. Unfortunately, there wasn't much more the cop could really do if he refused to share the photos, so we told him that it was best to just leave, and he agreed. He started walking towards the exit, and we all watched.

The man walked off, still looking just as pissed as Clarissa, but the rest of us explained more to the cop about what we had witnessed. But as we stood there with the cop, none of us noticed that the man that was trying to defend us had caught back up with the camera guy until we heard someone scream. We all looked over and saw the man on top of the camera guy just wailing on him. The cop took off and broke them, and we watched from a distance.

After things calmed down, and we overheard others talking, we learned that the man caught up with the camera guy, snatched his bag that he was carrying, and looked at some of the Polaroids. They were all of females, adults and kids alike. Some close-ups of their face, some of their back ends. If those were on the Polaroids and that close to being out in the open, who knows what pictures were on that digital camera.

I guess the man lost it at that point and attacked the guy. We had to give statements since we had a complaint about the guy to begin with, and even had to explain that we didn't know who the other man was. In his words, he was just a civilian tired of seeing creeps get away with stuff. Not that I condone what he did, but he's not wrong. I'm not sure what ended up happening to either of them to be honest, but we never heard anything more or saw anything about it.

All I know is that it went from a completely normal and innocent situation to something creepy in a matter of seconds. I just hope that the camera guy learned his lesson, because the next guy may not go so easy on him. 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.