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- [00:00]
Host
Hey, welcome to Scary Stories and Rain. I really hope you enjoyed this episode. And don't forget you can subscribe to this podcast for just $2.99 a month. You can get rid of all of the irritating ads and be automatically entered to win a Nintendo Switch 2 Mario Kart bundle. Only $2.99 a month. No more ads. I have all the info you need in the description to this episode. And one last thing. Thank you so much for being here.
- [00:27]
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- [01:03]
Host
I work at a gas station in the Deep South, a part of Louisiana that most people have never even heard of. I'm talking about dirt roads with no name, thick trees that seem to swallow darkness, and you might be lucky enough to see a streetlight every other mile. The little gas station that I work at is located in the trifecta of all these elements. I, of course, work the overnight shifts. The gas station doesn't see much excitement. There are either the 10 customers that come in between the hours of 10pm to 6am or the random opossums that decide to make the trash cans outside their personal drum set. But I digress. The night started as any other night. Make sure all of the snacks, cold drinks, and beer were all properly stocked. Check. Now all that is left for me to do is, well, wait. I stood behind the counter looking at inventory, listening to music, and just pacing around for the first couple of hours. You know the thing that people say time flies? Yeah. That did not apply to that shift. As I got bored, I decided to leave the register and check out the items on the shelf to, you know, make sure nothing majestically sold itself. As I was on one of the aisles, I heard a man call out, hey, y' all open? I turned around to see that I had two customers standing at the checkout. Now, I should mention, this gas station does not have that fancy system that makes the door go ding when somebody comes in. Top line security, am I right? So I was Caught off guard that two customers had come in without my knowledge, I quickly walked up to the register and apologized for the wait. As we were making the usual conversation of hey, how are you doing? And man, it's dark out here in this area, the customer asked another question that is usually always asked, how long is it until I get to the city from here? I answer with the same answer that seems to automatically live in my mind rent free. It's a good couple of hours from here. Just go towards the lights, Corny. I know, but that's my thing. Anyway, after scanning the customer's items, which literally were a candy bar and a bottle of water, I told them, be careful out there, y'. All. There's a tornado warning in this area until 7am and the rain's starting to pick up. I think in this area, even on a clear night, it is hard to see what is ahead of you on these dark, desolate roads. As I went to look at the second customer, I realized there was no second customer anymore. I chalked it up to the guy not wanting to wait any longer and just deciding to leave. I mean, from what I saw, he didn't have any items with him and probably only needed some cigarettes or something that was behind the counter. I told the customer farewell and was ready to grind out the rest of these hours. But just like a psychic, my own words had foreshadowed my fate for the night. Not long after the customer left, might have been an hour or so, the sky could no longer hold its sorrow and weeped gallons of tears from above. Now, to me, this is not a big deal. Bad weather, rain, opossums. Yeah, I still have it out for those little buggers. All of these things happen a lot in my area. So much so that I call the experience hwa, which stands for humid, wet and Annoying. As the rain and wind picked up, I was starting to feel a little uneasy. Mostly because, honestly, I would rather be at my house when the rain and wind decide to battle for dominance. With that being said, the inevitable happened. The power lines were no match for the relentless punishment from the elements. And then, darkness, silence, aggravation. The power had gone and there was no backup generator for me. I was just there, standing in a blanket of darkness so thick that it seemed to cover everyone in its embrace. I called my manager to let him know that the power had gone out and also asked him what I should do. Now, of course, with it being so late or early, I guess, whatever, 4am Whatever it means to you. There was no response from him. I thought about locking up and just buckling down at the gas station until the storm passed. I was getting paid after all. But that's when I heard it. Between the thunder, between the rain, between the wind, I heard a slight crunch coming from one of the aisles that was further away from the entrance of the station. At first I paid no mind. I believed it to just be the store items shifting with all of this sorrowful weather. Darkness has a way of bending your mind into seeing and hearing things that your mind usually tells you. Oh, that's just the wind. But after sitting there for a while, upset, of course, but getting paid, I called my manager again. To no avail. Then, right after the light of my phone faded and my eyes were trying to accommodate the darkness, I heard it again. Movement. But this time closer and right in between my phone call and a thunderstrike. So now I'm on high alert. Someone is in here with me. I'm not alone. I just knew it. I tried to calm my nerves, not wanting to be that guy that overreacts. But I asked myself, can you ever really be too safe? I made a potentially dangerous and thoughtless move. I stood up and yelled, is anybody still in here? I got no response. But that didn't mean that there was no one there. The air felt thick from the humidity. Not just that, though. The feeling you get when you are not alone. The feeling of being, you guessed it, watched, as cliche as it sounds. Then I remembered something that I knew all along. There is no ding on the door to let me know when customers enter nor exit. That, and the thought of the second customer came to mind. I never saw him leave. I just knew that he was there and then gone. I automatically, without a doubt, felt that something was strange. Something was not right. So I did what any gas station worker would do in the pitch black. Pretended to be a ninja so that I could slowly make my way to the source of the noise without being caught. As it turns out, I'm not a ninja. The moment I stepped out from behind the counter that I had been sitting behind, a voice stopped me in my tracks. Give me what you got, was all. The void softly spoke to me. I froze, scared, too scared to say a word, nor move an inch. When I called out, I wasn't truly expecting a response. Soon I heard footsteps, slow but getting closer. My mind yelled, do something. Run. Charge at the sound and hope for the best. After all of that, I did nothing. Then his face appeared. A face hard to make out in the dark. A face that I would not have seen if my manager hadn't called me back at that moment. That allowed my phone to light up. The second customer, it turns out he never left. I pretended not to see nor know that I recognized him. Again. He repeated, come on, give me what you got. Now. Still in a calm and calculating way, I spoke for the first time after noticing that I was holding my breath this whole time. All I have is $250 in the register. He was quiet for a while and then told me, give it over. I wish that I could say that I pulled out some special move that brought the guy down, that allowed me to hold him until the police showed up. But this is real life. I gave him the money and luckily for me, he accepted it. He knew that police would not be out here in these parts at point this time and with this weather. Even if I called, it would take them at least 30 minutes to get there. A local I assumed had to be to be so confident. I talked to the manager and the police. After all was said and done, my manager apologized that I had to go through that and also was sorry that he didn't answer the phone sooner. I told him, no worries, everyone deserves sleep. I got to leave early and the manager closed the store for a couple of hours until the next employee came in. I was so lost in a trance after the situation that I truly believed that it still couldn't be real. That couldn't have just happened to me after the couple of years working there. And that was that. I thought A funny plot twist. Two weeks later, a man was caught trying to hold up a gas station close to where my job was located. A man that I remembered from that flash of light on my phone. The only difference is he didn't get away this time. The only thing I can really say that I've learned from all of this, no matter how comfortable or how much you think you know, each day will play out. Always be on your guard. My wife is a real estate agent and a few years back things changed drastically for her. She landed her first client that would have her list their house. And it was also someone that we knew. We didn't know them that well, but we knew them through the church that we were going to at the time. And so when it came up that my wife was doing real estate, this person asked her if she could sell her house for her. The homeowner needed to move as her husband had recently passed away. It took a little bit, but my wife was at the point of hosting hosting the first open house on the listing, she would have two back to back open houses. The first on Saturday and the next the following day to give potential buyers more opportunity to view the house. The first day went well with a good showing from prospective shoppers. It was the second day that things took a turn. It was nearly the end of the scheduled period for open house visitors and so my wife began doing the rounds to turn off the lights and check over the house. However, two men entered the home and my wife went to greet them as she heard the door. The two men said they lived on the street and came to look at the house as they had never been inside before. My wife was willing to let as many potential buyers look around as it was her first listing and she was appropriately eager. The men said they were friends, but only offered their first names. One of them didn't engage much and quickly went into another room while the other man got closer to my wife, asking questions that finally started to make her realize something was off. She was alone in the house now with these two men, one of them continuing to get closer and closer and closer to her, asking her questions like, how long have you been doing real estate? I never met the owners of the house. Were they nice? Do you live close to here? My wife was trying her best not to display her nervousness and gave short answers to these questions. She knew that these men were obviously not here because they were interested in purchasing the home. So she let them know that the open house was over and she's locking up because the owner is coming back any minute. This was not actually true. The owner wasn't staying here anymore, but she had to say something to get these men to leave. At this point, she was backed into a corner of the kitchen with this six foot man in her way, deflating any hope of being able to run out of the house. To make things worse, she didn't even have her phone on her. It was on the dining room table with her bag and listing sheets, which for all she knew was now in the possession of the other man who had walked off. At first, the man didn't seem to care about what she said about needing to lock up and the owner coming home. He responded, it's okay if we just take another minute to look around, right? But he was never looking around in the first place. At this time, the other man came into the kitchen and joined his friend. My wife's anxiety is so high she's about to start screaming. And she gives one more request. I'm sorry, but we have to leave. As the Owner's coming home. The two men don't respond initially, but then exchange a look and and say, okay, thanks for your time and leave the house. My wife bolts to the door and locks it and then goes into the dining room to watch them through the window. All of her belongings were still there, so when she saw that they walked far enough away and she could run to her car, she grabbed her things and did just that. She even left the lights on. But she didn't care. In her car, she had no idea where these men went. She couldn't see them and didn't care to stick around long enough to find them. She just drove away. After hearing about this, we always made sure there was another person at viewings with her. To this day, I still go with her when she's meeting new clients. Looking back, it was was a reckless thing to do. Hosting an open house all alone in a neighborhood you are not that familiar with. She told the owner about the situation and the owner, after hearing a description of these men, stated that she had never seen them before and had no idea who they were. Take care when you are doing your job, whatever it may be. After that situation, I made sure my wife's phone was set up to do emergency alerts and she now never leaves her phone out of reach, even if she has to hold it. If possible, have someone there to watch your back. You never know when some creeps are going to scare the life out of you or God forbid, something worse. I am a 22 year old male who happened to end up at the wrong place at the wrong time. My best friend lived in a city close enough to where I live, so I used to visit her a lot during the week when I had time off work. This one evening I left her house quite quite late, so I was pretty tired when I set off. Probably shouldn't have set off driving in the first place with me being so fatigued. Nonetheless, I set off home. Majority of the journey is on the motorway, but about 10 minutes into the journey I could feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I needed to pull over. I came off the road at the next next exit and tried to find somewhere to pull over to possibly have a nap or at least rest. I eventually came across a little side road along a country road. This road was plunged in darkness with wooded areas on either side, with some places on either side of the road to pull up. There were some other cars parked here too, so I figured this would be a good place to stop and have a rest. So I Did exactly that. I pulled my car to the side of this uneven road surface and came to a stop, turning off my engine and made sure that my doors were locked. Not long after pulling up and reclining my seat, there were a few cars pulling up near me, stopping and then driving off again, only to return a few moments later. I am a car enthusiastic enthusiast, so I know my cars even from just the shape of their headlights. So I could tell it was the same cars arriving and leaving constantly. I was getting a bit on edge, but I was so tired I just tried to ignore it and closed my eyes. After about five minutes of me laying there in my car, I heard a car door open and then close. The obvious sound of someone getting out of their car. I opened my eyes and glanced up out of the windshield. But because there were no street lights on this side road, all I could see was silhouettes of the cars parked near me. It was silent. The sound of the car door was instantly jarring. However, after I heard the car door, nothing followed for a few moments. So again I closed my eyes and tried to continue my nap. But then I heard the unsettling sound of someone's footsteps on gravel. Like I said, this road was silent, so this was an undeniable sound. The footsteps seemed to be getting louder and closer. I once again opened my eyes to see the horrifying silhouette of someone slowly approaching my car to the driver's side. My heart instantly began racing. I wrapped my hand around my keys, which were still dangling in the ignition slot. But I was frozen. I did not have the ability to sit up, start my engine and race away. This person got closer and closer to my car, so I did what I thought at the time was the best idea. I turned my head away from the window and pretended to be asleep. This person approached my car. I heard the footsteps get closer and then stop. Then, my worst fear in that situation. I heard them try my door handle a few times. Then they made their way slowly around the back of my car and tried opening the trunk to no avail. They then continued to the passenger side, which was the side my head was facing. I was certain they could not see inside my car. But I still opened my eyes the slightest bit to see what was going on. All I could see was a man dressed in black with his hood up, one hand in his pocket, the other trying my passenger door. I laid completely still, my eyes half closed, trying to fathom what was going on. After a few more tries on my door handle, he did another walk around my car. I could see him walk past, brushing himself up against my door as he did. He then stopped for a second. I thought he was about to walk away when he instead began knocking on my window. He did this three times. My heart began racing even faster as I lay there pretending to be asleep and not hearing it. I was certain he was going to try and smash my window, but to my surprise he just walked away and got back into his car. He turned his headlights on and I realized it was one of the cars that was driving up and down the road. Earlier. Earlier, he angled his headlights directly into my car and through my windshield, so I threw myself back down and pretended to be asleep. Once again I heard his car set off and very slowly drive past mine, almost stopping when he got right next to me. This whole experience filled me with fear and adrenaline to the point of being wide awake. So as soon as I saw his car disappear, I started my ignition and got out of there. I drove straight home and had one of the most restless nights of sleep ever. I never drove down that road again, even during the day. If you're tired and you need to drive somewhere, just don't. At all costs, just don't. At least stop at a service station that is well lit and please lock your car doors. I don't even want to begin to imagine what would have happened to me if one of my doors was unlocked that night. I began working weekly at my local bar about six months ago. It's an old cozy little pub. Think carpeted floor, that old pub scent, little Irish trinkets everywhere and a few Guinness drinkers lining the bar. Every night there is an older clientele in the bar. I get to control the music on my shift and there is always a place pleasant, friendly atmosphere. It also pays very well and I enjoy the banter with the locals and the odd tourists who might wander in from a nearby hotel. Being such an old building, when you are closing up on your own at the end of a shift, a deep sense of unease tends to creep in. What was a fun place to be with music and lively chatter swiftly became full of shadows and creepiness. First the lights are switched off in the beer garden and the customer bathrooms. No big deal. Then the lights in the lounge behind the main bar are to be switched off right before you leave the building. Last night this is the part of the closing shift where it all started to go downhill. I lifted the used beer mats from the tables before wiping them down. I had already switched the music off and the silence was unnatural to my ears. After eight solid hours of 70s and 80s tunes being played at a decent volume. Gathering the beer mats and my cleaning supplies, I turned to head to the main bar. I flicked the light switch to off and on and in the time it took for me to walk down the two steps, I heard someone behind me. Someone very clearly and very definitely cleared their throat. Immediately I was frozen. My legs refused to work. I knew the bar was completely empty and had been for the last 15 minutes or so. I also knew that I had checked the bathrooms and it had been raining profusely all evening, so the beer garden didn't have a single patron all night, so there was zero chance of someone still lurking around after hours. I knew I had to turn to take a look, but I really, really felt as though my heart had fallen directly into my stomach. My skin felt as though it was crawling with nerves and I just knew that whatever made that sound from behind me had bad intentions. Still, I put down the spray bottle of disinfectant and slowly turned to face the lounge. There in the dark in a chair was a lady who absolutely had not been a customer of mine all evening. Even in the dark and in the shadows of the room I could make out that she was extremely thin and gaunt in her advancing years. Her eyes seemed to glow at me with all I can describe as absolutely hatred. I could sense the anger radiating from her and it terrified me. I began to shake with fear and the beer mats in my hand landed on the floor. I managed to squeak out a very shaky hello. In response I got an irate sounding moan and grunt. Not like the moans and groans from someone who had perhaps taken a little bit too much from the top shelf and wanted to be left to sleep it off in the corner of the bar. Rather, this was the sound of someone who couldn't speak but wanted to convey their outrage. Hello. I'm sorry but it's time to go home. Do you have a ride? Or I can call someone for you. This was a silly thing for me to say, but I didn't know else what to say. I began to do doubt myself. Did I miss this person somewhere? Had she been passed out in the corner by chance and I never noticed? But deep down I knew. I knew that this was Mrs. Taylor. Mrs. Taylor had been the pub landlady a long, long time ago. About 50 years ago. And she was a hardline lady by all accounts. If she didn't like or trust you, she didn't want you anywhere near the place. She hated other women with a burning passion and she wouldn't allow any females into the bar without a male chaperone. Me, a single 20 something year old who enjoyed the odd glass of wine and a shot of tequila and was into hard rock music, most assuredly wouldn't have been allowed to set foot into this bar. There had been stories of the place being haunted and previous barmaids being scared out of their wits by ghostly movements, but I had always shrugged it off as nonsense. I took a step back. When I got no response, the person I assumed to be Mrs. Taylor began to move. She placed a bony hand on the arm of the chair and rose up in a surprisingly speedy and youthful way. She began towards me letting out the most foul, high pitched and intense scream I had ever heard. Like the sound one would imagine the banshee gave out. I lost it. I turned on my heels and ran for the main door. I left my bag on the counter and ran for my life, completely forgetting about anything else. The only good thing is that the main door locks behind you so there was no need to lock it up. I don't know why she appeared to me and I don't know how I will face going back there for my shift in three days time. How do I explain all this to the boss without sounding absolutely crazy? Wish me luck. This happened like two and a half years ago. For context, I was in the military and lived in the barracks at the time. The barracks used to be a hospital way back when and many people have had paranormal experiences including my roommate and I on more than one occasion. Ironically, all of this happened on Friday the 13th. The whole day was wild. So I'll just start with the first weird thing that happened. My roommates and I had this tradition of always going out to eat on Friday. This Friday it was pouring rain and we went to eat downtown at a regular random restaurant. The second we walked in we just felt so out of place. We were sitting waiting a long time for a waiter to talk to him us until finally he came and he was beyond creepy. He seemed almost non human. He grinned very creepily the whole time, moved around and talked like a robot. Halfway through our meal I noticed every single person in the restaurant was wearing the same exact shade of blue. All the men had a blue button up and every woman had on the same blue dress. I pointed this out to my roommate while she also pointed out to me that all the waiters were standing in the corner of the restaurant staring and smiling at us. I had tears in my eyes. I was so creeped out. We didn't finish our food and we paid and left. We also double checked on the website and outside the restaurant to make make sure there wasn't some event going on or a dress code. We got back home to the barracks. I called my boyfriend to tell him what happened when in the middle of my conversation, our ironing board fell off the door from the hanger it was hanging on in the laundry room. It's never done this before and nothing had happened for it to do it this night. The way our room was set up is when you walk through through the door. You have the living room in the middle with the laundry room on the right, the bathroom on the left, and our two separate rooms straight in front. Mines on the left and hers is on the right. Me and my roommate were both sitting in the chairs on the wall near the bathroom. It startled us, but we didn't think too much of it. My roommates and I decided to head off to bed when about 30 minutes later I heard her open her door and witness whisper my name. Sarah, she whispered softly. Sarah, she said a little louder. I'm sitting in my room thinking why is she whispering like this? I got out of my bed and opened my door and she screamed, dropped to the floor and just started crying. Hannah, Hannah, what is wrong? I yelled at her. I saw you in in the mirror of the bathroom. She cried. What? I was very confused. She said it again. I just saw you fixing your hair in the bathroom. You know how you usually do. And smiling at me in the mirror of the bathroom. I looked at the bathroom. Sure enough the light was on with the door cracked enough so you could see the mirror inside. Shivers went down my spine. The room was freezing and something felt very off. We never left the lights on or the bathroom door opened. Neither of us had even gone into the bathroom since coming home from dinner. I wrapped us up in a blanket and we just left the room and sat in the hallway for about 30 minutes talking about what had happened from Hannah's perspective. She thought I knocked on her door and that's why she opened her door. And when she didn't see me, she whispered and then she looked in the bathroom because the light was on and saw me smiling at her through the mirror when I was fixing my hair. She said that there was something about the way I looked. I looked off and that's why she said my name a second time and then freaked out when I opened to my bedroom door.
- [34:08]
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- [35:13]
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- [35:34]
Host
1-800-Contacts. I don't usually write a lot, but there's something that has been weighing heavily on my mind, and I feel the need to share. Happened when I was just 13 years old, and although it occurred fairly recently, certain details of that incident still remain a hazy memory. Nevertheless, I'll do my best to recount the nights that forever changed my life. The amusement park, the only renowned one in our state, had recently opened its gates as the seasons transitioned into summer. For privacy reasons, I won't disclose the park's name or the ride where this unsettling event occurred. Typically, I visited the park once or twice a year with my friends, my family, and occasionally my parents. We would roam around, indulge in taste tasty treats, and experience the thrill of the rides. Just regular kid stuff. However, this particular visit was destined to make me swear off amusement parks for the rest of my days. It was a chilly night, that mix of cold and warm. However, the sky remained clear, which was all the confirmation that my friends Nick, Kaden, and I needed to ask our parents if we could go. Miraculously, they agreed, and in no time we found ourselves being dropped off at the park's entrance, brimming with excitement, ready to immerse ourselves in the vibrant, thrilling attractions. Among them, there was one ride that stood out as my personal favorite, and I'm certain my friends felt the same way. Housed inside a dome shaped building, this exhilarating ride dazzled us. With a whirlwind of spinning lights and adrenaline pumping speeds, it seemed like the perfect choice, except for one thing. The dreaded line. Not only was it a claustrophobic person's worst nightmare, but it almost always guaranteed an agonizing wait of at least an hour. On that particular occasion, the line stretched so far that it reached one of the neighboring rides about 100 yards away. Seeing this, we all let out exasperated sighs, realizing that we had no choice but to endure the line. Before we could move on, we figured we might as well get it out of the way early. As the line snaked its way forward, we noticed that on the left side, where the line extended towards the forest, there were shrubs and bushes. My friends and I didn't pay much attention to them at first, which is why we failed to notice something peculiar until we reached the large sign bearing the ride's name. It was Caden who first spoke up, excitement laced with a hint of concern evident in his voice. Did you guys see that? He exclaimed, pointing in the direction of the forest. Know what? Nick replied, glancing over at the bushes. Curiosity piqued, I looked in the same direction. There, crouched down among the foliage, was a person wearing a Jason Voorhees mask. Initially, we found it amusing, thinking it was a part of some Halloween themed event or party that the amusement park occasionally hosted in October. However, it was July, a fact that should have raised more suspicion. Whether it was ignorance or just us being naive kids, we chuckled, assuming it was some kid playing a harmless prank, our attention quickly returned to the ride and we dismissed the incident as an inconsequential oddity. We endured the line for a grueling two hours, and despite the relatively brief five minute ride itself, it was undeniably worth the wait. Afterward, we decided to grab a bite to eat and enjoy a few more attractions. Time flew by, and before we knew it, it was time to head back to the parking lot where our parents would be waiting. Unlike other kids who would typically complain, we welcomed the idea of leaving as exhaustion started to creep in. Amusement parks can be quite demanding. Navigating through the throngs of people also making their way towards the exit, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A glimpse of that very same Jason Vorhees mask. This time, I managed to catch a glimpse of the full figure behind it. The person was massive, towering at least 6 foot 6 with a build reminiscent of a freight train. This man was a behemoth, and it became glaringly evident that it wasn't just some kid playing a childish prank. Subtly urging my friends to quicken their pace, we hustled toward the exit. As we reached the dark expanse of the parking lot, I finally gathered the courage to share what I had seen. I told them what I saw and how big the guy was, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. Yeah, right, Nick responded, who was always the skeptic, especially when it came to this sort of stuff. Kaden, however, remained silent, his gaze fixated on the park behind us, an uneasiness apparent in his eyes. No, seriously. I insisted, my voice growing more urgent as Nick and I engaged in a brief back and forth. Kaiden's next words cut through our heated exchange, causing us to pause and snap our heads back in the direction of the park. Little did I know that his revelation would unleash an unprecedented terror, leaving an indelible mark on my childhood memories. Guys. Guys. Look. Kaidan screamed, his voice tinged with terror as he began sprinting toward the parking lot. At first all I could see were the masses of people flooding out of the park. I didn't understand what had spooked him so profoundly, and Nick appeared equally confused. Then I saw it. The Jason Voorhees mask once again. This time the significance of its presence registered in our minds and we bolted in sheer panic. The colossal figure adorned with the mask was hurtling towards us as at an alarming speed, clutching something in his hand, a mysterious cloth that I never had a chance to examine closely. We ran as if our lives depended on it, eventually catching up to Kaden in the vast expanse of the parking lot. Together we gasped for breath, scanning our surroundings in a frenzied state until we spotted my parents car. Without wasting a single second, we scrambled inside, screaming at them to floor it. Although they wore expressions of bewilderment and concern, my dad pressed down on the accelerator, propelling us away from that nightmare as swiftly as possible. Interrogation became the theme of our one hour ride back home, and it was Nick who mustered the courage to offer brief, one word answers to our parents relentless questions. In truth, all of us were still reeling from the shock, struggling to process the enormity of what had just occurred. To this day, I remain baffled by the man's intentions. What was he doing? Why did he single us out? Why did he do this with a ton of people around? And what horrors awaited us if he had managed, managed to close the distance between us. I vowed never to return to that specific amusement park, although I have visited a few others since then. Nevertheless, you can bet your bottom dollar that I always keep a vigilant eye forever wary of the lurking shadows, for you never know who might be hiding in the darkness waiting to pounce. This was a handful of years ago. I was a new mother and home with my firstborn child. He was a couple of weeks old and it came time for me to get an oil change and the tire rotation for my car instead of sitting in the dealership waiting room for an hour. Plus, I figured this would be a good opportunity to walk around this arboretum that wasn't too far away. I have been to the arboretum a handful of times before, but this time I noticed a sign for Patriot's Path. This is a paved trail that extends 35 miles throughout the county. The trails are broken down into segments as they are separated by roadways or neighborhoods. I would frequent other parts of the path and never felt uncomfortable. In fact, it was a nice way to feel connected to nature while sometimes encountering other people exercising and doing the same without hesitation. I decided to walk the path to kill time. I was excited to explore this new to me trail. First the path cut through the tall grasses, then it curved and increasingly became more of a wooded area. This wasn't concerning to me as all the other parts of the trail that I have walked on were exclusively in the woods. As I was pushing my newborn in a stroller and enjoying my time in nature, I came to a fork in the path. The other parts of the trail I have been on was always one path, no forks. The right path was on higher ground so I headed that way. As I was going, the path was getting increasingly difficult for the stroller. Tree roots broke through the path and it was a rough ride for my baby. I wasn't able to keep the pace I was going since I was going significantly slower. I looked on my map to see if it included the path and where it would bring us on the map. The left side of the fork traveled along a waterway, so I decided to try that route. As I was turning around, I saw a man, well dressed, slowly strolling towards us. I got the stroller free from the tree roots and started towards him. He had his phone up to his face as if he was on a phone call, but he wasn't talking. We got closer. I looked at him to give a friendly nod as I usually do when passing other people. He just looked straight ahead, expressionless. When I was processing that interaction, my gut Told me something was wrong. He was wearing an outfit that I could best describe as business casual. Most people on the trails are in exercise clothes. Clothes. He wasn't talking at all on his phone that he was holding up to his ear. And the other hand. He was concealing it. He had it in a rigid position behind his back, as if he was carrying something that he didn't want me to see. I turned to walk the other path of the fork and convinced myself I was just imagining things. After some more walking, I heard the sound of babbling water. According to my map app on my phone, I thought I should be able to see the waterway by now and the path should open up to a parking lot. I felt like I should see the parking lot by now. When I tried opening the map again, my phone wasn't working. I was in the woods alone with my baby, with no phone access, and I just had a strange interaction. It was time to turn around and head out of these woods. Much to my dismay, there was the man again. His face still expressionless, his phone still up to his ear. He was still not talking, and his other hand was still hiding behind his back. I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Stomach. And my stomach jump into my throat. Why did he turn around on the first part of the path? Why didn't he turn at the fork? He was close enough to us for me to realize that he must have turned around soon after we did. He must have seen us turn down the other path at the fork. All the alarms in my body were ringing. Get out of here. When we needed to pass him, I started to jog. Hey, I'm wearing the appropriate outfit for a trail that most people used for exercise, right? Maybe my intention was to jog this whole time. I didn't stop jogging until I was out of the woods and into the tall grass. I turned to look behind me, and luckily my son and I were alone again. I jogged some more until there was a large distance between us and the trail. We waited in the dealership waiting room for the rest of the time they were working on my car. I did go back to the arboretum after that, but I haven't ventured down that section of the trail ever again. Now, maybe this was just a regular businessman. Nothing happened between me and this man, and maybe nothing was going to happen. But personally, I would rather go for an unplanned jog than ignore my gut instinct and find out not all meals are created equal. For instance, breakfast has the spicy egg McMuffin for a limited time, and lunch doesn't McDonald's breakfast.
- [50:27]
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It's on Prime. This took place around the fall of 2020, around late October. One night, three of my friends and I, Nate, Charlie and Jordan decided to meet up at a local park around midnight, just located within my friend Jordan's neighborhood, to have One of our relentless hotboxing smoke sessions since this was our senior year of high school and with the pandemic and political animosity going on at the time, like many other kids, we were basically stuck at home for the most part, attending online classes and barely getting out of our houses since most public places were closed. Because of this, we all ended up smoking to kill time, so having these hotbox sessions wasn't anything new to us since we've been smoking since August of that same year. I recently stopped smoking altogether due to unrelated issues, but I digress. Back to the story. About an hour after our smoke session, the four of us reluctantly agreed to start driving out of the park and around town for a while, with my friend Jordan being the driver, Nate in the front passenger seat with Charlie and I in the back. 20 minutes into our drive being the intoxicated idiots that we were having the windows cracked, we decided to put on dead space ambience music as we were making our way out of a residential area and onto a two main road that led out into the rural part of town. To give you an idea of the scenery, we were driving through one of those semi rural suburban neighborhoods you'd find in the middle of nowhere. For those of you that live in the rural south or the Midwest, you know what I'm talking about. Since it was completely pitch black and we were practically in the middle of nowhere bumping creepy ambient music music while approaching a dimly lit intersection, it began to give off an eerie liminal vibe that was kind of fitting for the season. As we approached the intersection, my mind began to green out and race about the unknown beyond the darkness that enshrined our surroundings. It would be terrifying if we found a humanoid like a Wendigo or something right now. At that point we had reached the intersection and since I was looking to my left, I immediately noticed a figure emerging out of the pitch black. As the figure got under the street light, I realized that what I was looking at was a woman in pigtails dressed in a really classy clean outfit with a tan blouse and high heels. I instinctively sobered up and took this as a bad sign from all the stories I've heard and just knew something was wrong because who would be out here at 1am in a classy outfit in the middle of nowhere? In a matter of seconds, my worst fear came to life as this woman began to approach the car and I really didn't want any of us taking any chances with this woman. I started to freak out and told my buddy Jordan There's a woman coming. Turn the car now. Our friend Nate noticed a second figure dressed in all black slowly emerge from the rear end of the car just about 15ft away from our right side, slowly approaching. This only instilled more fear in all of us about the situation. Charlie instantly caught on and saw what we were seeing as this woman practically began running at us screaming please stop. Help me. Charlie then began aggressively slapping Jordan's shoulder in a panic, shouting, jordan, turn the car now. Jordan, still zooted off the weed, was confused for a split second before he saw that this woman and the man in black were mere feet from the car. In a panic he yelled, oh my God. He peeled out to the right and in the opposite direction from where this woman and the man came running from. We all sobered up a bit, being so creeped out and confused as to what just happened, but we laughed it off because of how intoxicated we all still were. Needless to say, we still question why the woman was running at us screaming and what exactly the intentions were from both of them, especially the man dressed in all black behind the car. My morbid curiosity gets the better of me sometimes and I would like some theories as to what could have happened to all four of us during that night. Let me know in the comments below. I was about eight years old when this happened, so that would make my brother 15. He was supposed to be babysitting me, but instead went over to his friend's house who lived about a mile away. I was okay with this. About an hour after he's gone, the phone rings. I go into the kitchen to answer it. On the other line, a deep and raspy voice says, nolan, this is the devil and I'm coming to get you. And then hangs up. I wasn't a complete idiot. My brother always tormented me and he wasn't home. I put two and two together and I knew that it was him just being a jerk. About 30 seconds pass and the phone rings again. Nolan, this is the devil. I see you. I said something like, yeah, Jack, I know it's you. Looking back at it now, what transpired feels like a real life version of the opening of scream. This was 1991, so well before that movie came out. Over the course of about 20 minutes, the same thing keeps happening. Nolan, this is the devil. I'm coming for you. And I would reply, saying that I knew that it was my brother. The intensity picked up and a tiny sliver of doubt began to creep over me that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't my Brother. So I called Mike's house to yell at my brother. I got ahold of Jack and told him to stop it. He downplayed what I was saying and told me not to worry about it, just a prank. Then he tells me to call him back if it happens again. It felt sincere. Now I'm getting a little worried, but was still pretty confident. Jack was just being an a hole. Sure enough, a minute or two later. This is the devil. I don't know why I kept answering the phone, but my mom was a busy realtor and I was trained to always answer and take a message. She even had one of those mobile phones. Even prior to those thick gray brick ones. It was corded and built into her car. I say all this because because we had two lines at home. This being a few years before the AOL boom. So it was pretty rare for other households to have a second line. I knew this because none of my other friends had a second line. Call waiting, sure, but not a second line. Again. The phone rings and the devil starts saying his thing. And I just burst out. It's not even funny. Jack. Just stop. Just cut it. Then a beep on the line. Someone else was calling. I answered the other line and my blood ran cold. It was my brother Jack checking on me. Mike didn't have a second line. I suddenly became a blubbering man mess. The next part is a blur. This was in Minnesota during the middle of a heavy blizzard. The next thing I know I'm running down the street with no jacket on and snow in my boots because I was too panicked to lace them up. It's not easy running in the snow. But I didn't stop until I was about a block away from Mike's house. There I see my brother and Mike leaving the house looking a little little confused to see me. Then an evil grin broke out on his face. As it turns out, Mike's family did have a second line. The whole thing was so stupid. I knew it was Jack the whole time. It had to be. But I assumed it was Jack doing the stupid voice, not his friend. So that second line calling in while I was talking to the devil Suddenly threw my 8 year old sensibilities into the blender. The whole thing went down into the lore of some of the top tier torment that my brother inflicted on me growing up. Right up there with hanging me by my underwear from the windowsill just high enough so the tips of my toes couldn't touch the floor or burrito wrapping me in the gym mat and duct taping it so I could not get out. Thanks Jack. I would like to start off by saying I don't know what I have gone through. I still question myself what I have been through that night. Until this day my mind is still hazy and has a lot of unanswered questions, but I guess I will never figure that out, will I? I live in India for more specifics, I live in West Bengal. I'm not going to share in which part of West Bengal I live because I don't want people hunting stuff down. This case was not very newsworthy anyway. None except the neighbors of the apartment complex know about this. In West Bengal, the coming of autumn is marked by a festival called Durga puja. There are 10 days where we celebrate the coming of autumn and it's the season where we worship the mother of all the idols in the Hindu religion Durga, more famously in India known as Ma Durga. I remember me and my family being super excited and we were to celebrate these 10 days with no studying, just enjoying ourselves thoroughly since it's the only time in a year where we can relax on the seventh day of Durga Puja. My mother wasn't really satisfied with the enjoyment we had in our complex, so I proposed that we could go outside and watch the other pandals, which are clothed temples with bamboo made for the idol to be placed there for 10 days. We set out at 12 o' clock midnight. This was the time when people came out to see the pandals since they could get really crowded with people in the evening plus we didn't want to miss our complex functions. We set out in our car and went to different places enjoying stuff. It was around 2 in the morning when we entered through the gate of our apartment. I would like to avoid the confusion that no such security guard remained under every tower after midnight. All of them are out of order except for three guards who would be sitting out dozing off, not doing their job at the main entrance of the gate. We did have really good security, but after midnight everything just gets loose. We entered the main gate to be shooed off by two guard sleepily. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see a man, an elderly man who was kind of scrawny. I had a bad hunch on seeing him because his attire was something that would catch the eye of anybody. He wore a golden sherwani with white pants, but he had a cotton gamcha or a very thin piece of bright red cloth with patterns which would be used by a lot of people in India to dry themselves off after a shower he was wearing glasses and had a long white beard, which made him look even more suspicious. He was walking by the entrance of our car and I noticed that he had his hands behind his back. I could also see that he was carrying something which was shining under the lamp post. That he was walking through this sent shivers down my spine as I told my mom jokingly, Should I be concerned that this man has a pumpkin knife in the dead of night? Since the knife I thought he had behind his back was a pumpkin knife used specifically in vegetable shops. My mom paled all of a sudden at the thought. While my dad started laughing. My mom shushed him down and asked where I had seen the man. My dad parked the car in our parking lot. As we got out of the car and I saw the man again walking freely inside the complex through the roads which connected each apartment. Our apartment complex is huge and we had certain roads which could lead to one tower or another. My mom caught sight of the man and started walking boldly behind him. We hid behind another car to run back to our apartment. Once the coast was clear, my mother suddenly backed off track and walked to our apartment. She met us at the ground floor of the apartment and she confirmed my suspicions. She didn't want to call the police because she thought this might go two ways and that we could be wrong. He might also just be a laborer in the near construction site and he was just there looking at stuff. I had a bad feeling in my stomach. But since there was no security, we couldn't really convey our worries to anybody. While we were in the elevator to reach our floor, my mom told me that the man stood in the intersection on the road. After a few meters in the road, you come to the intersection. If you go left, there is the back gate where there are no security guards and that gate is closed after 10pm if you go right, there would be more roads which would lead you to more towers. The man stood there at the intersection not knowing what to do and my mom told us to hurry before he could look back. The most spine chilling part was what we learned the next day, the eighth day of the festival. That one of the women in the tower had died. She was 40 years old. She was fine. She had no complications in her age. But then we found out that she was murdered in her bed and the door lock was burnt to ashes. We were told no more details until one of her sons confirmed our worst fears. The weapon used to kill her was a pumpkin knife. It's.