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- [00:00]
A
Hey there.
- [00:01]
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Welcome back. Before we begin the stories, I just want to mention that I just got back from England on set of a feature film that I'm producing called Yellow Brick Road. It's a spin on wizard of Oz, but for horror fans it's going to be absolutely amazing. And if you would like to help me bring it to life, which I would highly appreciate, please click the indiegogo link in the description to learn how you can get involved and even get some really cool perks, including being made a producer yourself or even going to the premiere of the film. Again, please click the link in the description to check it out and I would highly appreciate your help bringing my first feature film to life. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this episode. Hey, welcome to Scary Stories and Rain. Before we start this next episode, I just wanted to remind you that you can now become a subscriber to this podcast. The low monthly cost of $2.99 that.
- [00:57]
A
Will get you access to all the.
- [00:58]
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Episodes with absolutely no ads, no more interruptions. It's a really great option if you use this podcast to relax or sleep. Check out the link in the description to sign up now.
- [01:15]
A
I work at a restaurant in a small town and I have been locking up at the end of the night for a year now. It's nice, easy money and I usually get paid an extra hour while doing simple tasks like cleaning or rolling silverware. It's actually calming after a hectic night in the kitchen. I never check bathrooms or anything before locking up. Usually the restaurant is empty well before I am finished and I have a lot of time to myself. There is something so eerie about being.
- [01:44]
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In a restaurant alone after closing.
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What was once a bustling place full.
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Of people is now empty and silent.
- [01:54]
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The sounds of the machinery kicking on can be heard across the restaurant. The sound of the ice machine dumping ice usually makes me jump with the.
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Layout of the restaurant.
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The main light switches are on the opposite side of the restaurant from the door with the alarm, so I usually lock the back and front doors and.
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Then turn off all the lights.
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Then I make my way through the dark restaurant to the side door which has the keypad. In order to arm the system, all doors need to be closed and there needs to be no movement in the restaurant. If there is an error, it will tell me the door that is open or infrared and the area where there is movement. When I first started locking up, I.
- [02:36]
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Needed the flashlight on my phone to.
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Navigate to the door, but now I know the layout so I just walk in the darkness. For some reason, it is less scary to just speed walk through the dark than to have a dimly lit phone light casting shadows and reflecting off surfaces. I hate to say it as a grown man, the dark creeps me out. Tonight the restaurant had been closed for almost two hours. I mopped the kitchen, cleaned a bit and rolled some silverware for the morning crew. I locked the doors, turned off the.
- [03:09]
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Lights, then made my way through the.
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Dark restaurant to the door. I typed in the code and got an error. Error. Infrared detected Dining room I felt my stomach sink.
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I know I've been alone in this.
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Restaurant for two hours. I know I had just walked through.
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That pitch black dining room.
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Just then I heard footsteps pounding on the tile coming towards me from the dining room.
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I have gotten chills down my spine.
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Before when something creeps me out, but this was different. It felt like my entire nervous system was overloaded. I didn't even turn around. I just opened the door and bolted out into the parking lot. I didn't hear any footsteps behind me. I got in my car and peeled out. I drove down the street and called 911 and then my boss. I waited until they arrived before I went back into the restaurant.
- [04:10]
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The door was wide open.
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There was no sign of anyone. Nothing was stolen, nothing was broken. I gave a report of what happened and that was it. The only interior camera that is pointed at the cash registers didn't see into a majority of the dining room. But the exterior camera caught something that scared the life out of me and that I will think about for the rest of my life. It captures me running out of the.
- [04:42]
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Building and around the corner to my.
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Car shortly after I exited. You could barely see the elongated shadow of someone standing by the door beneath the camera watching me run away. The person casting it being just out of frame before turning the opposite direction and disappearing. Just seeing my terrified self running away and that shadow watching me do so.
- [05:10]
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I have never felt so vulnerable. I'm not really a believer in the.
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Paranormal, but I just don't know what kind of sick person would wait in a restaurant for two hours after closed, not steal anything, just to scare the employee that was locking up. I know for a fact it wasn't.
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Any of my coworkers.
- [05:33]
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Obviously there wasn't much that could be done to find out who it was.
- [05:37]
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Nothing shows anyone entering the building after close, and from what we could tell.
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Everyone who entered that day had left. This event still has me questioning myself on whether it was a sick prank.
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Someone mentally ill, or something supernatural.
- [06:12]
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In my late teens, early 20s, I was a Venture Scout and leader for trips my local Boy Scout troop went on. I am a female but my brother was part of the troop for years and I became friends with everyone in the troop. I completed my youth protection training and was allowed to become a leader chaperone on camping trips and other wilderness related outings. I had a long time friend in the troop, let's call him Sam and he was a close friend of my whole family. Sam was a little older than me and had already been a Boy Scout leader for several years at this point. This story takes place in November of 2018. Sam and I were made the leaders of an upcoming camping trip, the annual Fall canoe float down the Buffalo national river in Arkansas. The Buffalo river runs about 135 miles through the Ozark Mountains with enormous bluffs on at least one side or the other through most of it. It flows through some of the most beautiful parts of northwest and northern Arkansas and despite my incident, I still encourage you to take a trip there. We had made camp that afternoon on a riverbank after about 15 miles from where we put it in. The Scouts put up their tent about 25 yards upstream of my tent with the campfire and cooking station situated in between us. As I was setting up, I mentioned to Sam that I was a little nervous about sleeping in my tent alone for the first time. He shrugged me off and told me it would be fine, that sleeping alone was actually quite peaceful. I remember rolling my eyes because unlike me, Sam had not only been camping completely alone for years, he had also done it in a hammock with no other what I consider protective gear. I didn't bother to ask him to tent with me because according to the Scouting rules, males and females cannot share tents and I didn't want to get in trouble. The very first time I was leading the troop. However, I think Sam sensed my unease and he set up his sleeping arrangements outside my tent, which consisted of a sleeping pad on the ground with his canoe flipped over on top of him like a coffin. To this day I admire what it must have been like to live with so little concern. We all spent the evening around the campfire talking and making dinner. The forest and the river all around us was so full of life that I felt a little more comfortable when we all decided to turn in for the night. I watched Sam lay down on his pad and flip the canoe over on top of him before sighing with contentment and I climbed into my tent. I spent the first hour or two reading while listening to the sounds of the boys up the riverbank fade as they all started to fall asleep. But I couldn't. The nighttime temperature had dropped below freezing. Then of course, I needed to pee. I spent probably another 10 minutes trying to trick myself into forgetting about it and fall asleep, but it was impossible. Finally, I got out of my tent, tapped Sam's canoe to let him know where I was going, and then headed up the bank for some privacy. I don't know how many women on here have peed in the woods, but if you have, you'll know. It's one of the worst things about camping. What made it even worse is because I was cautious about being seen. I climbed all the way up the embankment and walked about 10ft into the woods before stopping and oh my gosh, it was miserable. Not only having to drop drawer in the freezing cold, but also being completely vulnerable. But the worst part about it was the woods were completely silent. Not a cricket, not a rustle of a square squirrel. Nothing. It didn't click in my head until years later about how bad that actually is. Just the primitive part of my brain started screaming to leave immediately. I ran back to the embankment before sliding down onto my butt and sprinting back to camp. Once back around everyone else and in the glow of the full moon, I had a little more sense of security. The river was burbling on quietly and I could see the dying embers of the campfire before getting the idea to take the warm rocks from the campfire and put them in my sleeping bag. To try to get enough warmth to sleep, I drug about four or five decent sized stones into my tent and slipped them into the bottom of my sleeping bag. Unfortunately, it just wasn't enough. I was awake for hours in pain from how cold I was trying to rub the ache out of my legs. I remember actually tearing up a bit with how exhausted and cold I was. That's when I heard a noise like footsteps walking around downstream from my tent. The bank was covered in smooth river stones, so any kind of footsteps would make noise, but the sound of the rocks shifting told me that this was something large. Then I heard them enter the water and I worried one of the boys was awake and going for a midnight swim. I quickly unzipped my tent and poked my head out to see an elk drinking from the river. At least it looked like an elk. It was massive, but it was far enough away and standing perfectly in shadow that I wasn't quite sure. It was much too big to be a deer. But we don't have Moose in Arkansas. I quietly watched it, hoping to see more of it when it looked directly at me. Its face, even in the shadow, triggered my primitive brain again. If my blood wasn't running cold before, it was now. I felt this prickling up my neck as this unknown terror crept into my bones. I ducked my head back into my tent and stayed completely still for hours. The combination of fear and the cold wasted any hope of sleeping. I never heard the elk thing leave the bank, but I also didn't even think about listening for it. The woods were that almost screaming silence again. After what felt like hours, someone tapped on my tent and said, come on out. It's time to go. I pressed my face into my hands and breathed a sigh of both relief and exhaustion. I had made it through the night and even though I didn't get any sleep, it was over. I quickly stuck my feet in my boots and stepped out of my tent to find nothing. It was still night. I had confused the light from the moon as dawn. No one was around my tent and the time it took from when they spoke to me to when I came out was not enough time for one of the boys to make it back to their tent before I saw them. That pricking feeling came back, but this time it was all over my body as I heard a voice in my head say, don't turn around. I slowly sat backwards in my tent and zipped myself up into it with shaking hands. I laid down in my sleeping bag and covered my face and prayed. I prayed for so long until I finally fell asleep. In the morning, I woke up to the familiar voice of Sam talking to another scout outside my tent. I could feel the warmth of the sun beating down into my tent. I know I looked terrible by the way Sam did a double take upon seeing me. Oh geez, you look like you didn't sleep at all. Did you come to my tent last night? I asked him. Sam, still studying my face, slowly responded, no. Please don't play with me. If you did, you got me good. Great. Just don't continue the joke right now if you did. Please. I felt a little bad being accusatory because Sam was actually a pretty no nonsense guy, especially when it came to being in charge on camping trips. Diana. No, I wouldn't try to scare you. I know how nervous you were about sleeping alone out here. He folded up his pad before tossing it into his canoe and throwing it over his shoulder. But I guess you were too scared last night. I looked confused. What? Sam gestured up the embankment into the woods. I heard you make a few trips up there. Next time just get a Gatorade bottle and you won't have to leave your tent. Around that time, the rest of the Scouts had announced that they had finished cooking breakfast and everyone migrated to the campfire. But I felt like I had just sunk down to my knees in the river mud. I had left the tent once. I went up the embankment and came back down once. So if it wasn't me, what had Sam heard coming out of the woods and checking out my tent multiple times that night? Why hadn't I heard it?
- [16:12]
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I have told this story to people.
- [16:14]
A
Before and they say I had just dreamed it. But I know that I hadn't. I had been too cold and had sat up in my sleeping bag most of the night, rubbing my legs. And since I know it wasn't a dream, what is hiding and hunting in the woods along the Buffalo River? I can't breathe. My eyes are open and I am able to see everything around me. Yes, it's shrouded in darkness, but it's still my room and I am still in my bed. Except I can't move and I can't breathe. I can feel the eyes of something sinister on me. Something is watching me from the darkness that is surrounding me. I don't see it. I can smell it. A putrid ste. Stagnant smell like sulfur acid and bowel movement all in one. But I feel it. I feel anger and the hatred in the air around me. The room I fell asleep in was peaceful. It's my room. I can see the Jack Skellington tapestry on the wall across from me. The television is in sleep mode, the little bubbles dancing around the screen. I can feel the weight of my tiny dog beside me under the blanket. My drawings hung where they were when I fell asleep. But the darkness in the room is darker. The feeling in the room is evil. There's a sound. What's that sound? It's not me. I can't breathe. I can't move. And I for sure can't speak. But something is moving. Footsteps. Those are footsteps that I can hear coming from my closet. I cut my eyes looking as far to the side of them to try and see who or what, that there is nothing there. Until there is movement at the end of my bed. Looking down, still unable to do anything but stare. There he is. The guy in the top hat. He's tall, all black. He's not a he at all, but a thing. No facial features are eminent, but I can make out a grin spreading across his blank and stoic face. He's enjoying this, the torture and pure terror I feel. I can tell he's feeding off of it, tightly shutting my eyes. I'm hoping that doing this will make him go away. My eyes fly back open in a panic when I feel breath on my face and neck. There he is, hovering over me, the grin wider than it was before I tried to make him disappear. He's mouthing something but no words are audible. And then in a growling whisper, I watch you sleep at night, so lovely you are. From this night forward until time ends, I will watch you sleep time and time again, praying in my head that he will just go away. I can feel the tears gliding down the sides of my face. I still can't breathe, move or speak. I am so beyond trapped and the terror welling inside me needs to be released. I open my mouth forming a scream and in my mind that's all I'm doing, screaming as loud as possible. Finally, the only thing filling the silence and the darkness that surrounds me are my screams. I sit up as quickly as possible and gather myself. Inhale. 1, 2, 3. Exhale. 1, 2,3. After I had pulled myself together and obtained the courage to go to the bathroom, I head that way. Upon returning to my bed, I grab my phone to check the time and there, present on the screen is a picture taken of me from above, my eyes wide and filled with tears that are streaming down my cheeks, mouth open in the form of a scream and a dark glaze over my eyes. Those don't look like my eyes. During the summer of 1975, my grandfather worked at a car dealership as a mechanic in a major city on the west coast coast. That was where my Aunt Cece got her first job as a receptionist for the dealership. They were from a small town out in the countryside, so she was excited to start work in the big city. As Cece had just graduated high school and wanted to save up for an apartment despite the fact that she was in a major city. CC's job was what you would expect working as a receptionist inside a car dealership. The immediate area was devoted to industry work and other car dealerships. It was in effect a social desert for a 17 year old social butterfly like Cece. This was a blue collar area that was predominantly men working hard, dirty jobs. Despite that, Cece enjoyed her work and the chance to carpool with her dad and got along great with the staff. With what my grandfather called the gift of gab, she could make friends with anybody. Now as it was 1975. Most transactions were done in cash, and as a result, paperwork and money deposits had to be done with daily trips to the bank. That task fell upon Cici as part of her duties, and she was entrusted with taking deposits to the bank located within walking distance of her place of employment. As she worked in a successful car dealership, she could deliver thousands of dollars in cash per deposit. To put the money in perspective, $2,000 in 1975 is equal to well over $10,000 now. So here was Cece, a lone 17 year old girl with a daily routine, walking from a popular car dealership to a bank with large sums of money at a somewhat isolated and rough neighborhood inside a major city. To say that her employer did not foresee an opportunity for disaster was naive on their part, and for my grandfather as well, all that I can say about that relaxed attitude was that the 70s was an entirely different world almost 50 years ago, and Sisi was the one to pay the price. On that summer's day, the dealership had quite a few successful transactions that resulted in netting over $3,000. So with the paperwork done after lunchtime, Cici put the money into her purse and began the short walk to the bank. She was a few minutes into her journey when a rusty van screeched to a halt behind her. Before she could react, the sliding door opened and a man pulled her inside. Before she had a chance to do anything, the door slammed shut and the engine revved as they took off. And just like that, she was kidnapped. Inside the van were five rough looking men in their mid to late twenties. The back seats had been taken out for a mattress and several pillows to convert it to a party van. As was typical for the time, as evidenced by the empty beer cans and bottles, as well as other paraphernalia, the men were laughing as they shoved Cici onto the mattress, commenting that they had wanted a pretty girl to join the party and she had the misfortune to be that random girl in their path. They seemed either oblivious or uncaring that they had abducted a young woman off the streets against her will. Now, I don't need to emphasize how dangerous the situation Ceci was in. She was fully aware that what was likely to happen to her with five strangers taking her to God knows where. The men didn't look like college students and by appearance had a rough lifestyle. She also realized that they weren't aware of the money in her purse. These were men looking for a good time at the expense of preying on an innocent woman, not criminal masterminds who had paced her daily trip to the bank for a deposit. Regardless, her chances would likely plummet to zero if they discovered the $3,000 hidden inside her purse. That much money might be too tempting a prize than to leave a witness behind. Sisi then did what she was gifted with. She kept her cool and turned on the charm. She laughed along with the men, as if being held against her will was a joke, saying to the effect, ah, you guys seem pretty cool. It's too bad I can't party with you as I'm expected back at work. I would hate for all of us to get in trouble as my boss will be mad if I'm not back soon. He'll definitely call the cops because of what's been happening lately. At this time, the then unidentified serial killer, Ted Bundy, was active on the west coast, especially in that city. Cece and her sisters had even cut their hair short as a precaution because the girls targeted at the time all had long hair. Those murders were at the forefront of the public's minds, and cece used that as leverage for her kidnappers to take her words seriously. It was enough to plant a seed of doubt in their minds, but it also showed that they never had good intentions, aside from the fact that they had abducted her, with the added risk of her being immediately missed and the cops quickly involved. Cici continued talking with the men as they mulled this information over while she downplayed her own fear. You guys really don't want to do this. My boss is really strict about my breaks and we'll all get into trouble real soon. I don't think any of us want that. In the end, those terrible men decided that she wasn't worth the trouble. They pulled over near a grocery store and opened the door to let her out, and then quickly drove off. Cece, who still had her purse with the $3,000, ran into the store to call her dad. The cops were also involved, but without any identification or a license plate, the kidnappers were never caught and no follow up was ever made. In retrospect, Cece's kidnapping might not have been taken seriously by the police. This was 1975, literally just one year after American women were legally able to open their own credit cards in their own name without a male partner. So it's frustratingly likely that CeCe's whole abduction was written off as some harmless joyride prank, and she was neither assaulted nor robbed. Hopefully those men thought better than to try again on another innocent bystander, but sadly, that might just be wishful thinking. I want to finish this story by stating that I love my Aunt Cece and I am so grateful that she is a part of my life. She is an incredibly brave woman who has had many adventures, traveling all over the world, doing photography, and using her gift of gab to cultivate friendships that reach across cultures and language barriers. I'm glad that her narrow escape at being abducted as a teenager did not diminish her adventurous spirit, but instead taught her how to better survive in this dangerous world. She has many stories, but tells this one as a lesson in not getting too relaxed in daily routines and in keeping emotions in check during scary situations. After all, she is certain that the outcome of her abduction would have ended badly for her if she had lost her cool and those men discovered that payload inside her purse this story is from my hike from Graz, Austria to Venice, Italy. It might not be as frightening as some other stories, but I want to share it in the summer of 2023, my two friends and I, all 17 years old at the time, were in the final week of our hike from Graz to Venice. It was late at night and we still hadn't found a place to set up our tents. We were walking along a seemingly endless beach, exhaustion weighing heavily on us. After 20 days of walking, our legs ached from blisters and we had already taken minutes long pauses to regain energy. We were all eager to rest. Eventually, we found a suitable spot on the map, a beach further away from the city we were in and decided to head there. By this time, we had briefly entered the city but hadn't gone deep into it. The streets were empty except for some tourists near the beach. I was so exhausted that I was even walking with my eyes closed. To reach our campsite, we had to take a small gravel path connected to one of the streets. As we arrived at the intersection that led to our intended campsite, a man suddenly emerged from the path we needed to take, which led right into the woods and walked right past us. My friend, distracted by fatigue, walked past the intersection without noticing it. I quickly called out to him, pointing out that we needed to take that path. Just after I corrected my friend. I don't know why, but I glanced back and noticed the man standing in the middle of the road, motionless, staring at us. For a few seconds I looked at him, but it was pitch black so I couldn't make out his features. I didn't think much of it and decided to continue walking. However, as soon as we entered the gravel path, we made a chilling discovery. The man was now following us, heading back from where he had just come. As we began to worry, all our exhaustion and pain vanished along with the weight of our fully packed backpacks. While still walking down this dark path, we started discussing what to do rather loudly, not expecting him to understand our language since we weren't locals. After a brief discussion, we decided that jumping into the field next to the path was a better option than staying on the path or facing the man. So after about 30 meters of walking along the path, we jumped into the field. The field was full of crops and difficult to wade through, including jumping over some kind of ditch in the middle of the field. But with adrenaline pumping, we barely noticed the discomfort and kept running as fast as we could with these huge backpacks. As soon as the man saw us move, he immediately turned back and returned to the road that we had just left. We quickly did the same, and with a head start, we managed to put some distance between us and him. Our shorts and shoes were wet. However, there was no time to care. The man was still following us. We rushed through the streets of the city, and as soon as we didn't see him anymore, we calmed down a bit. Still, fear kept us moving, trying to stay in the darkness so he couldn't see us. Walking past a gas station at the end of the city, which could be seen from the street where we had met the man, we continued and walked another 5km before finally setting up our tents far away from where we had encountered the man. To this day, we have no idea if he was just a drunkard playing a twisted joke or if he had more sinister intentions. And who knows what might have happened. If it hadn't been for those pauses that we took, we might have been right on time to meet this mysterious man further down into the darkness of the woods.
- [34:04]
B
It was Christmas time. I was 14 years old. My family and I were going ice skating one evening. My family consisted of my two younger brothers, my mom and my stepfather. I had invited my girlfriend to come with us, and we were just waiting on her to show up at our house so that we could leave. She eventually made it over and we all piled into an SUV and headed downtown. The ice skating rink was packed, as it was only open at Christmas time and it was 8 o'clock on a Saturday. After driving around the rink a few times, we found a parking spot. We all started walking over to it, and as we walked, I saw that all of the lights went off in the skating rink, and for about one minute, green and red black lights were lighting the Whole place up. It was pretty cool, I thought, and I was looking forward to getting my skates on. They were serving hot cocoa right next door in a little booth. My little brothers wanted some and so my parents jumped in line while my girlfriend and I headed to the window where we could rent some ice skates. There was no line there and we got our skates pretty quickly. We sat down on the bench near the window and put on our skates. My girlfriend had never been ice skating before and she was a bit nervous. She was afraid she would fall, but I told her it's really not that difficult and even if she did, it's not a big deal. We got to our feet with our skates now on and walked over to the skating rink before we stepped onto it. Suddenly, the lights switched to the dark green and red lights again. You could barely see when the lights switched and people were running into each.
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Other all over the place.
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Some people were falling down. It was a cool idea to have the lights switched to green and red for the holiday, but whoever set the lights up made them way too dim. My girlfriend told me to wait for the lights to switch back on and we did. A minute later, the normal lights popped back on and we stepped onto the ice. My girlfriend skated awkwardly for a few minutes, but got the hang of it fairly quickly and we were soon flying around the rink. After about six laps, the lights went out again, but this time it seemed to me that it was even darker than before. My girlfriend grabbed my arm and clung to me as we tried not to run into anyone as we skated in the near darkness. Now she asked me, it's getting darker, don't you think? I agreed and the lights popped back on again. We sighed with relief and continued skating. As we made our way around, we passed a man wearing a dark red trench coat that was about to step onto the ice. He had a dark red hood over his head, which covered most of his face. Face. After noticing him, I looked around for my family and spotted them sitting down on the benches drinking their hot cocoa. I looked over to my girlfriend who had broken away from my arm and she looked nervous. I skated closer to her and asked her if she wanted to get off the ice. She said no, but that she was worried about when the lights flipped to the dark green and red again.
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She was worried that they would flip.
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Off completely and leave everyone in complete darkness. As if on cue, the lights switched off and they switched off completely. My girlfriend gasped along with many other people around us. For the briefest of moments. Everyone was quiet and it was pitch black. It was an incredibly eerie feeling. Then suddenly being on the ice with so many people but feeling alone. Then suddenly I heard a woman scream. Then I heard commotion. The woman's screams were silenced and then I heard a man yell in a similar way, like they had just been really hurt by something. My girlfriend and I ran into a group of people and then we all collapsed onto the ice. She started calling my name and I could hear the fear in her voice. People were falling all around us. And then I heard another woman scream. This scream was piercing and I knew at that moment that something was very wrong. The woman continued to scream when I heard somebody else scream bloody murder. At this point I could hear noises of frantic people falling, moving and screaming trying to escape the ice rink. I tried to stand up but was hit by people in all directions and my hands were sliding across the ice as I crawled.
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It felt like razor blades.
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B
I was hyperventilating when suddenly I felt an extreme pain in the tip of my middle finger on my right hand. I realized that somebody had just skated over it. I stopped crawling and heard yet another ear piercing scream of agony and terror. I started calling my girlfriend's name but did not get a response. Somebody skated into me, their knee hitting my face hard. I fell flat onto the ice and my breath was taken away when I felt random people topple on top of me. One person landing on my stomach as they all tried to separate from each other and myself. I felt an ice skate slice my thigh. I started crawling again, fast and I could feel my finger pulsating as blood gushed from the wound. I hit a wall and I remember feeling the tiniest relief. I called my girlfriend's name again, but once again no response. In the midst of screams and frantic mayhem. It sounded as if everyone was screaming now and I thought that I might.
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Have a heart attack.
- [40:06]
B
I stuck to the side of the wall and attempted to stand up onto my skates again. I reached my feet and started coughing. I felt somebody clip my back as they skated by me. And then suddenly I felt pain. Pain in my back. Monumental pain. The worst pain I have ever felt. At first I thought somebody had somehow cut my back with an ice skate. But I twisted my arm and reached around to my back to feel what it was. Somebody then crashed into me and I fell onto the ice once more. Tears poured from my eyes and screams erupted from all around me. I twisted my arm to reach my back again and I felt it. Somebody had stabbed me My breathing started to get heavy and a full breath was difficult to achieve. The pain was growing more intense and I felt panic set in as it felt like the pain would not reach a stopping point and would just increase and increase. Suddenly I heard another scream very close. It was mine. My screams joined the rest and I began sobbing. In between screams, I started crawling once more, but I couldn't move as I did before. My muscles were becoming weaker and I felt as if I were falling asleep. I moved slowly and I could feel thick syrupy liquid Wherever I put my hands on the ice. It was warm. I knew it was blood, my blood, and I suddenly began coughing again with no control and didn't stop. I put my hand over my mouth and stopped crawling. I felt blood coming out of my throat as I coughed and it started to block my nasal passage and I could barely breathe. The screams were absolutely ear shattering. At this point I lay on my back and started to shiver. After a few minutes I felt people fall and trip over me once again and I flipped over onto my stomach. After this, I looked up and I could see small beams of light all over the place. And then I heard people speak. It was the police, I thought to myself. They were running and tripping over people, trying to get people out, trying to help. I put my arm up and said the word help, but nothing came out. I couldn't say it. I dropped my arm back to the ice and I felt my eyes start to close. I cleared my throat full of blood and coughed it onto the ice. Everything at that moment went black. I awoke in a hospital bed. 24 people were murdered on the ice skating rink that night. My girlfriend included. I recently moved into a big house, just temporarily. It's kind of a complicated situation. The house belongs to a family member. They were going to be gone for a few months, that sort of thing. I was going to be there on my own. So obviously I thought, what if this place is haunted? There wasn't anything in the house when I moved in, but there is now. I was in the main hallway unpacking some stuff when the doorbell rang. That put me on edge right away because the house is at the end of a long driveway and kind of out of the way. You have to go looking for it. There was an old woman at the door, or sort of old. It was kind of hard to tell. This was in broad daylight, but there was still something kind of off about her. She was really tall, like a full head taller than me. And there was something weird about the way she looked. It was like none of her clothes fit her properly. She shook my hand and smiled really wide and told me that she was from the neighborhood council or something and asked if she could come in and talk to me. My gut reaction was to say no, but I couldn't really think of a reason to. She was just an old woman. What was she going to do? I really wish I had just slammed the door in her face. I brought her into the living room and she sort of tottered behind me like her feet didn't fit into her shoes properly. She sat down without asking and grinned at me until I took a seat across from her for about half a minute. She didn't say anything, just smiled and stood stared at me while it got increasingly awkward. Just as I was about to break the silence, she fished into her pocket and pulled out this really big old fashioned candy, the type that comes in see through wrapping.
- [45:34]
A
Here, she said. Eat this.
- [45:40]
B
I should probably point out here that she spoke really quietly so it was difficult to hear anything she said. I accepted the candy, kind of taken aback, and unwrapped it. It was dark red, almost black. I popped it into my mouth because she was still grinning at me and nodding her head. Have you ever walked around behind a supermarket where they keep those big bins? They throw meat that's gone bad in those bins. Imagine that rancid smell, but on a hot summer day it's so thick you can almost feel it in the air. That is what this candy tasted like. I almost spit it out onto the floor, but social niceties made me chew the thing and force it down my throat. The woman was talking the whole time, but between the tail haste in her quiet voice I barely heard her. My mouth tasted like rotten meat, so I politely told her I was going to get some water and walked fast into the kitchen. When I came back, she was gone. I had been in the kitchen for less than 30 seconds. My first reaction probably should have been to assume that she went to the bathroom or had to leave in a hurry. Instead, I searched the entire house. I went through every single room convinced I was going to open a closet or look under a bed and see her stuffed in there grinning at me. That didn't happen obviously, but I was still extremely on edge. As the sun started to go down, I felt like I was turning turning off the light in my bedroom after spotting a giant spider in there that night. I propped a chair against my bedroom door because I just couldn't shake the feeling that the woman was still in the house somewhere, hiding I woke up at around 2:30 in the morning and heard creaking floorboards downstairs. It was an old house and unfamiliar. I kept telling myself that until the noises stopped. When I woke up the next morning, there was a red candy on the living room table. I'll tell you the same thing I told the police. No, I couldn't be absolutely certain that the candy wasn't there the day before. Maybe I had just overlooked it, but I didn't think so. They told me that the organization the woman claimed to come from did not actually exist and clearly thought I was wasting their time. After they left, I searched the entire house again and the grounds. Then I searched them again. By the time I was finished, I had managed to calm down a bit and looked at the situation rationally. The woman probably left the candy there the previous day and I just didn't notice. I had searched the whole house twice now. There was nowhere she could possibly be hiding. She was probably just some doddery old lady who wandered off while I was in the kitchen. As I prepared to go to bed, I had managed to fully delude myself into thinking nothing strange was going on. I decided not to do anything childish like blocking my door, because what was I afraid of? Even if she somehow was still inside the house somewhere, what was she going to do? At some point in the middle of the night, I woke up abruptly, knowing in the back of my mind that something was wrong. I guess I must have heard something in my sleep. I turned over onto my side and reached out to turn on the bedside lamp, groping around because I was in an unfamiliar room. When the light came on, I saw the old woman standing right next to my bed. I only got the briefest glimpse of her before she vanished into the unlit hallway outside my door. I now believe that the human brain has a special compartment for dealing with experiences far outside the realm of the natural. If I had woken up to find a burglar in my room, I probably would have gone numb with panic. If there was a lion at the foot of my bed, I would have been too paralyzed with fear to do anything. But as soon as the woman. The woman was gone, that special compartment took over. I jumped out of bed and slammed the door shut and then shoved a chair up against the handle. Then I dashed for my phone. No signal. No Internet. I later found out there was nothing wrong with the phone or the local service. I think she was interfering with it somehow. The drop from the bedroom window wasn't too high. If I landed just right, I would probably avoid injury. But what if I sprained my ankle or broke my leg? I had a sudden vision of pulling myself across the dark garden while the woman sprinted after me and decided I didn't want to risk it. That gave me two options. Wait out the night in my bedroom or try to get out of the house. Now I went for the second option. I I had a thought that my flimsy barricade would not hold if the woman decided she wanted back in. I broke one of the chair legs off and crept slowly into the hallway, reaching carefully for the light switch. When I pressed it, the lights came on for a second and then faded out. I flicked the switch a few more times. Nothing. Some gut instinct. Instinct told me she was sabotaging them somehow. I used my phone for light as I slowly, quietly crept along the upstairs hallway and down the stairs. The light barely traced the shapes of the walls and the dark, yawning frames of open doorways. I jumped at every single shadow and unidentifiable shape, certain that any second that grinning face would appear out of the shadows. I got downstairs into the front door. I had double locked it and put the chain in place. Just as I was reaching for the first lock, I heard rapid, uneven footsteps at the top of the stairs. Approaching swiftly, I undid the first lock. A high pitched shriek came from the hallway down the stairs and I screamed as I undid the second lock and wrenched the door open. It stuck fast. I had forgotten the chain. I glanced behind me and saw the tall, spindly shape of the woman half running, half falling down the stairs toward me, her head lolling backward and her mouth hanging open. I can't even remember getting the chain off. I might actually have just yanked the door open so hard that it broke. In any case, the last I saw of the woman was her face inches away from me as I slammed the door shut. I sprinted to the nearest house and they called the police. Possibly because I was half delirious with fear and babbling incoherently. The police once again failed to find anything unusual. It's been a week. I'm staying at a friend's place, sleeping with the lights on and the bedroom door barricaded. The house's real owners aren't back yet. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell them, but I have to stop them from going back there somehow. This isn't a haunting. It's an infestation. I can stop thinking about all the holes in our defenses, the windows and doors left open, the strangers invited into our living rooms. I just hope it's the house that she wanted and not me.
- [54:32]
A
When I look back at my younger years, from around the age of nine, all I can picture is the holiday home that we visited and what happened there. The location that we stayed in was a frequent choice for us, with about three or four visits in the past. Each time we visited, we had consistently positive experiences. It was located in a remote area about 30 minutes away from everything and there wasn't a phone signal for at least three miles. The memory of that night still haunts me even now. As a 28 year old man, I frequently attend therapy sessions to address my anxiety about that night. So let me take you back to the winter of 1996. After a long and challenging drive through harsh weather and treacherous terrain, my family and I finally arrived at our cabin in the dead of the night. The cozy little house we were staying in was a charming two bedroom cabin nestled within nature. The kitchen was small but functional and the living room was even tinier, giving it a snug and intimate feeling. As my father prepared wood for the campfire and my mother lovingly tucked me and my sister, who was seven at the time, into bed, a sudden loud bang on the door startled us all. My father cautiously peered through the keyhole, only to find no one on the other side. He bravely opened the door to investigate, but the surrounding area appeared empty, leaving all of us puzzled and a little uneasy. At first we thought the incident was just an animal running into the door, but I couldn't shake an uneasy feeling. That night. I was terrified thinking about someone outside in the dark creeping around our house. Despite my fear, I eventually fell asleep, but it was restless. A few days passed and little happened apart from a few strange sounds coming from outside every now and then and the odd stuttering of the lights. Everything was going smoothly and our trip appeared to be rather ordinary. That was until we saw him. I couldn't accurately make it out in the dark, but from what I could see, there was a slender, lanky man peering down through the window. His skin was gray, his eyes were jet black, and he had a massive gaping grin stretching across his face. Everyone fell silent. We were all just staring directly at the window, petrified and helpless. The silence was broken by a blood curdling scream from outside, which was shortly followed by the disappearance of the creature at the window. I don't know what it was or who it was, but I sure as hell didn't want to wait to find out. The car was parked about five seconds away from the door, so this would have taken us around 10 seconds to sprint over there, open the doors, turn the key, drive away. My father instantly sprung into action, grabbing the double barrel weapon our family kept for emergencies, and smashing through the front door. He stared down the site, watching as whatever it was dashed towards him and shot two slugs directly into the chest of the beast. Within a split second, we all sprinted outside and into the car as we watched whatever it was lay on the floor. As soon as my father started the ignition, we were out of there, as if a bullet leaving a rifle. We never went back to that place, and I hope no one else did either. I don't know what I saw that night, but what I do know is that if my father hadn't made that split second decision, my whole family may have ended up dead. It.