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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. I really hope you enjoy.
- [00:31]
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- [01:02]
Host
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- [01:13]
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- [01:14]
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- [01:17]
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- [01:49]
Host
I worked at domestic violence shelters and I've seen a lot of disturbing things. Some paranormal and some just the truest chills of human nature. One of these instances was when a woman came to the rather large shelter I was working at after leaving her partner. Pretty typical, except her partner was an ex military sniper. Naturally she came in during the weeks our regular night shift worker was off on vacation, so I had been voluntold to take off my regular day shifts and work alone. I started my shift and nothing much happened. At first I helped the residents get their medications, did some chores while watching Netflix. Usually I'm a horror junkie, but I never watch it at work because it would make me extra jumpy and I was certain the place was haunted. There were women who had passed in the building, but most of the spirits were chilling and I am certain they were messing with me at times. Our office had windows that showed our tall pine trees in the backyard, designed to give us privacy for our residents sakes. But at night all you could see was darkness leering at you with no shielding from curtains. Naturally, our backs were turned to the window too, so we were just vulnerable. The windows had tents, but it didn't matter because we could still see outside regardless if something could see us. By this point in my job, I had seen multiple residents, ex partners trying to peek in or break in, but nothing like this dark night with not even a glimmer of moonlight. I went to complete my assigned chores as I could finish them and then chill until everyone got up. This morning I took my time in the basement where most of my chores were. The basement is the floor below my office where the residents stay. When I returned, I started getting cozy for my shift blanket on some goofy rom com playing and I'm just chilling. That is until I felt like I was being watched. I had a habit of always feeling like something was watching me as I grew up in a house with a similar window situation and was a very anxious kid kid. I initially brushed it off as me being super paranoid. Not a bad thing. But I checked the many cameras that we had and didn't notice anything out of place, inside or out. I continued snacking and watching my movie. Around 2am, when most residents were asleep, one of them knocked on the office door. This always spooked me at night, but when I went to answer was one of the residents looking very panicked. She explained that she believed she heard someone out in the backyard while she was in her room and was worried that it was one of the many women's ex partners. The women all have windows that can open to the backyard. Too small for anyone but a small child to fit through, but they are still there. So I double checked with this resident that hers were closed. We had a policy that all windows had to be closed at night especially which we enforced at curfew at midnight. She said hers were closed, but that it sounded like someone was in the backyard. I suggested she go to her room, close the blinds and I would look into it again. I peered outside into the darkness both on the cameras and with my eyes. I saw nothing out of place, but I felt an absolute pit in my stomach as the darkness stared back at me. I let this woman know I didn't see anything but would check regularly. She thanked me and said that maybe she was just paranoid. I reassured her the building was secure, but I understood her fear. One thing about working at a shelter is that even if you are scared, you cannot show it to the residents or they will panic, rightfully so, tenfold. Despite my stomach being in knots, I kept a calm and Cool demeanor. At about 3:30am, feeling a little better, I went to sit down and noticed something dash into the pine trees. Absolutely petrified and going against my human nature, which said to bolt like a madman, I went to investigate near the window. At this point I was cautiously crawling because I didn't want to be seen by some wild man. I couldn't see anyone, but I again felt that gaze and noticed one of the pines move. When I say that I have never called the police quicker, I mean it. Luckily, because my workplace was well known by the police, they arrived pretty quickly. I met them at the front door, explained the situation and mentioned the woman with an ex military partner. The police fanned out and looked around the pines. No one was found. But they did find something that disturbed the pines and one of those fake leaves from a camouflage suit. They might as well have commanded me to crap my pants. They suggested that it was possible someone with a military background was in the pines that night. Trying to scope out the shelter. I felt as if I had lived three lives in one night. The police said it appeared that the person had left, likely after seeing the flashing red and blue lights. The police then left and said to call back if I felt unsafe again. The rest of the night was uneasy until my manager and other co workers came in. Luckily, I have never seen curtains put up so quickly and security guards hired this woman and another resident with an ex in Hell's Angels were no longer with us. I have no certainty it was the ex military partner, but just based on how I felt I was being stalked like prey and how she described her ex partner, I do believe that it was him. I no longer work at that job, but that night, that one night haunts me. My Uncle Dave is super awesome in a really goofy sort of way. He's always playing pranks on me. He once convinced me that a hot pepper was a pickle and got me to eat the whole thing at Chili's, which prompted me to wash my mouth out with soap in the restroom. He lived in Connecticut and when my family moved down south to this neighborhood, we didn't see much of him. One weekend, after several encounters with a creepy guy, Uncle Dave announced he was coming for a visit and would be staying in our guest room. My mom let me stay up late to wait for his flight to arrive. However, after seeing me fall asleep on the couch several times, she ordered me to bed and said I could see Uncle Dave When I woke up in the middle of the night, I woke up with this eerie feeling. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and goosebumps covered my body. I had this uneasy feeling that someone was watching me, stiff as a board and trying not to move my head, lest I announce to the watcher that I was awake and aware of their existence. I moved my eyes around the room to look for anything out of the ordinary. My night light was on in the corner of my room, which created a pretty decent glow. It was easy to make out the details of my Beanie Baby collection, my desk, my dresser, and the man crouched next to the dresser. I could see this guy with dark hair sitting with his back against the wall and his right side leaning up against the dresser. His knees were pulled close to his body and I could see his teeth and the whites of his eyes gleaming. He was facing me. I stared at him for a long time, and he didn't move. At first I was terrified. Then I remembered Uncle Dave. Of course, he always pranks me. It's his life mission. He's probably trying to trick me again right now. If I cry or scream, he'll jump up laughing and shout, gotcha. I can't let Uncle Dave win. I stared at him for a while, and he didn't move a muscle. He never gave up the game. After what felt like hours, I felt this sense of dread fill me. As much as Uncle Dave loves pranking me, I couldn't picture him staying up all night long to do this weird, creepy prank. A small voice in my head tried to convince me it was someone else, not Uncle Dave. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I peeked and saw the man was still there. He was not a figment of my imagination. I closed my eyes again and imagined myself shouting for my mom and how she would dash in and rescue me. Even if this was Uncle Dave, I wanted no part in the prank. At some point, after hours of adrenaline, I crashed and fell asleep. When I awoke in the morning, I immediately checked by the dresser and saw no one. Feeling relief wash over me, I felt firmly convinced that was Uncle Dave being dumb again. Leaping out of bed and rushing out of my room, I ran into the living room, gleefully shouting, ha ha ha. Uncle Dave. You got me again. That was the dumbest prank ever. My mom turned to me with this weird look on her face and told me that Uncle Dave was still in Connecticut because his flight was delayed. I figured my mom was in on the prank, too, and told her what happened, insisting that Uncle Dave was there in my room. When she shook her head no, I felt a wave of horror wash over me. As I tried to figure out who was that in my room. My mom told me I was just imagining things and she wouldn't entertain it. Fast forward a bit later and I am again in my bed. My night light is on. I had somewhat forgotten about the creepy man and was more focused on stuff like Captain Planet and Gameboy. I woke up in the middle of the night to that same eerie face feeling. I checked by the dresser but didn't see anything. Feeling relieved, I settled back into bed and tried counting sheep. While lying there, I saw a slender hand creep up the side of my comforter from under the bed. It felt around looking for something to grab onto. At that second, every alarm system in my body was screaming excited. Except for of course, my mouth. I tried so many times to open my mouth and shout but nothing would come out. I felt paralyzed. The hand was on my bed for probably only five minutes, but it felt like the longest five minutes of my life. I lay there petrified and fantasizing about running out of the room or calling for my mom. But I could not get my mouth open, four legs to work. Instead I lay there frozen. I eventually was able to call for my mom, but in the middle of shouting mom. My nightlight turned off. I don't remember what happened after that, but I think I must have fainted from pure fright. When I woke up, I stood up on my bed and took a flying leap. Then ran out of the room and into the living room to tell my mom what had happened. My dad checked under my bed and again told me it was all my imagination. Despite my mom trying to convince me that I was crazy, I was firmly convinced that a man had been in my room not once, but twice. One night my good friend and I were hanging out having some beers at our favorite bar located in my neighborhood. We had decided to call it early since it was a weeknight and we had work and school in the morning. So we left around midnight. My friend offered to walk me home but I refused since I knew that night he didn't have his car and had to walk 20 or 30 minutes minutes in the cold to get home and I felt bad. Plus we were in my neighborhood anyway so my place was pretty close. We hugged goodbye and I started walking home. It was pretty dark out and there was no one around at first. A little bit into my walk I noticed that someone was walking far behind me, but I of course didn't think much of it. I am pretty used to walking alone at night and I don't get scared Easily. So I just kept walking. After a minute or two, I turned around again and I noticed that the person who was walking very far behind me has now somehow gotten very close. Like much closer than they should have been if they were walking at my pace. And I was walking pretty fast since I was tired and cold and just wanted to get home as soon as possible. I was trying not to be paranoid, but at this point I had a really bad feeling. I can't exactly explain what it was. It was just like all of my alarm bells started going off. So I grabbed my phone in my hand, opened my recent calls, and just continued walking. At this point, the person who just a few minutes ago was so far behind me that they were basically a shadow, was so close that I could hear their footsteps. The good thing was I was almost home. I just had to get through the parking lot in front of my building complex. However, just as we get to the parking lot, I turn around one last time and I can see clearly this older man carrying a lot of bags in his hands right behind me. We make eye contact and just as that happened, he started running towards me. I know that every normal human being's reaction in this situation would be to start running, but for some reason, my instinctive reaction was to pretend I didn't notice or care and just picked up the phone and called my mom. My mom answered in a sleepy voice since I had clearly woken her up and asked me what was wrong. I just said something like, hey mom, I'm in front of the building and I forgot my keys. Can you please unlock the door and wait for me? Also, I have to note that while I was speaking on the phone, I noticed that there were three guys sitting on the benches in front of the building hanging out. This is pretty common. However, even late at night in my city. Now, I don't know if it was the phone call or the fact that he noticed these guys who he surely didn't expect to be there, but the man ran right past me and into the first building closest to us. At the moment, I was still very shaken up and I noticed that I stopped talking to my mom on the phone, who was mad at me for forgetting my keys and waking her up. But when the man went away, I told her exactly what happened and she freaked out and ran outside in her pajamas. I still don't know for certain what that man's intentions were, but they definitely weren't good. And of course, I'm glad I never found out. My dog and I love to hike. She's a Blue Heeler mix I found in 2019 and we have been inseparable since. We were living in Florence, Alabama at the time and decided to go to the TVA Nature Trails, which is home to about 30 trails and over 180 miles and is beside a river. I was familiar with the area so I knew where a lot of the trails led, crossed over, etcetera, etcetera. It was either late fall or early spring when this happened. We got to the parking lot and my gut told me to back my car into the parking lot. I never do that, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was still in my car getting my fanny pack ready when I looked forward and noticed a man in his late 40s or early 50s who looked very out of place. He was wearing jeans, a brown blazer and leather dress shoes. In any other context I might have just assumed he was heading to a job interview or something like that, but this was a Sunday afternoon and we were in the middle of the woods. I had a really bad feeling about him and kept my eye on him while I laced up my boots and got my dog out of the car. He never looked over at us as far as I know. I watched him start down a path and decided to go on a trail that did not run into his trail. Here's where it goes down. Let me paint the scene for you. The river is to my left and my dog is playing in the water. The trails make a backwards lowercase Y shape to my right. Two of the three trails come down a pretty large hill, probably a fifth 50 foot drop in elevation on each trail alone, so the little river coast was almost tucked under a cliff. You wouldn't know I was there unless you were trying to see down onto the beach area. While my dog was playing, I got the most intense you need to get out of there feeling in my gut that I've ever had. I listened to that feeling, leashed up my dog immediately and started walking back towards towards the trails. I got back to the Y and had to choose which path to go when I heard the parking lot man shout something at me from the highest of the trails. Based on the trail he went down from the parking lot, he should not have been there. He must have turned around after I started down my trail and went down that trail or something. The paths don't cross and it's literally from the opposite opposite side of the park. As I was processing that this man was not where he should be, I realized this could be the beginning of a true crime story. I didn't understand what he said when he yelled, so I asked him to repeat it. I'll never unhear it for the rest of my life. He said. I can see what the military was talking about when they said you can see see everything from up high. Then he made a hand gesture pointing to the area where my dog and I were playing in the water. I decided to nope it out of there and started heading back to the trail we came down. There's an important part of the terrain that I didn't mention yet leading down to the river. There's a large ditch between a couple of the trails. Probably a 20 foot steep drop from trail to the bottom with a bridge that goes over it. I was fairly close to the bridge when I heard him, so I went that direction. The man proceeded to run down the hill of the trail, meanwhile asking all kinds of questions about my dog. I couldn't go that fast because my dog was thoroughly confused and was trying to protect me. The man then said, I was watching you two in the parking lot. I saw you get out of the car. Chills. He caught up behind us on the bridge and asked to pet my dog. I said no. He then asked if I had a husband, so I lied and said yes. He asked what my husband does for work and I said, he's in the army and he's going to be really mad when he hears that you won't leave his wife and dog alone. At this point, the man was still jogging behind us. Stay as close as possible. I was trying to decide how to lose this guy. Do I scream at the top of my lungs? Do I push him? Do I just deal with it and hope it doesn't get worse? Now we were walking on the flat part along the top of the steep ditch. I noticed gloves in his blazer pocket and he had a little bottle in his hand. It was a clear plastic juice bottle like vitamin water or Snapple and had a dark liquid in it that looked like sweet tea. Not the right color for the bottle. At first I thought it was probably a spit bottle for chewing tobacco, or at least that's what I hoped it was. Then he firmly said, I'm going to pet your dog, and reached down at her. She's not big, but she jumped on him with force and knocked the bottle down the ditch. The man very unexpectedly went down into the ditch after his bottle. It was so steep that he had to slide down the bank or he would have broken some bones. My dog and I took off in a different direction, avoiding human trails to hopefully lose him. We ran for about two miles through the woods until we were about a half mile from the car in a different populated area. I asked a man to walk me to my car and told him that someone was following me. He did and then he was being silly to make me laugh and feel better. I'm so grateful to him. I made it safely back home and was livid that this guy cast a stain on one of our favorite hiking spots. But obviously I was grateful that my dog and I were alive. For a while I tried to believe that it was just some socially inept guy that really wanted to pet my dog. Deep down I know that man didn't have good intentions though I trust my gut and she was not okay in that moment. So I'm just left with one question. What the heck was in that bottle? And why was it so important that he had to risk seriously injuring himself to go get it.
- [25:01]
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- [25:37]
Host
I was 10 years old and it was the late 90s. I was a fat kid and the other kids certainly let me know it. I remember when the movie Free Willy came out and that became my name for the better part of a year or so. Needless to say, I didn't have many friends, and as those who don't have friends do, I gravitated more toward my console and computer games rather than basketball or boxing or whatever the kids did outside. I did make one friend, however, who lived a few blocks away. Steve was older than me, a nerd, and cool as hell. I won't get into particulars of our friendship, but he introduced me to all sorts of great games. Diablo, Dungeon Keeper, Duke Nukem, games that weren't always age appropriate. He would even loan them to me sometimes. One Saturday, I called up Steve to ask if he wanted to hang out. He said he would ask his parents, but they declined due to some travel plans they had. So I asked him if I could borrow one of his games and he agreed to loan me a little gem called starcraft. Now, anyone who knows starcraft would not be too surprised to hear that I about jumped off the couch and hustled my fat butt across the neighborhood to Steve's house. I was so psyched I would have skipped home if I were the skipping type. And though I didn't do that, someone did see me. I was walking back down the block about halfway home when I heard a man call out, hey. Hey kid. I paused, turned, and looked. There across the street was a pizza delivery car. One of those big chains, not a small one. The guy had a uniform on, I think, but I wasn't close enough to see a name tag or anything, and the car hood was popped up. He was looking at me and called out again, hey kid, can I get a hand? I had never worked on cars before. My dad did that sort of thing, and I think even he would agree that I'd only get in the way and probably hurt myself if I helped him with anything at that age. So I wasn't really sure what I could do. Uh, what's wrong? I asked from across the road. I just need your help with something real quick, he said, looking back down at the engine. Can you come over here real quick? I could use some help. When he dodged the question like that, I felt something I can only describe as a tingling sensation in the back of my neck. Not like goosebumps, but something instinctual. In that moment, stranger danger kicked in, and I could almost feel a tug pulling me back in the direction of my home. Sorry, I gotta get home now. The man could have been in his 30s, though I'll say that kids aren't the best approximators of age. It did seem odd to me that he would ask a child for help when there were any number of houses and doors that he could have knocked on to ask an adult. Furthermore, I remembered it being about 11am at the time, and I remember this because of how badly this encounter confused me. But that just goes to make things stranger, because all I could really do to help in that situation was maybe hold a flashlight. But this was in the middle of the day in suburban city Southern California. Nothing felt right, so I just turned and started walking faster. And I really did feel the hairs prickle at the back of my neck now. I glanced back at the guy to make sure I wasn't being chased, and thankfully I wasn't. Instead, he just looked at me and watched me walk away. It was as if he had the same realizations that I did. It was Saturday. It was early. People were home. No one was out mowing their lawns or walking their dogs. I remembered looking Looking for an adult, looking for help and finding no one. But people would hear a kid screaming for help. Maybe this is one of my bullies talking, but this guy definitely would have struggled to pick me up and carry me any distance now. I made it home in one piece, obviously, and some years later I recounted the tale to my mother. She went silent for a good moment, then told me that one of the parents in the neighborhood reported a man in a pizza car One time he was talking to her son. When confronted, he complained of car trouble. But when he was pressed on the matter, miraculously, obviously, wouldn't you know it, the man's car started right up and he drove away very fast. Nothing came of it that I know of, but my mom had always told me that she was grateful that I was the type to play inside, even if it made me a little heavier and I would just about ruin my eyes staying up late gaming. At least I was safe at my friend's house or at home. I am an only child and when I was around five, my dad married a woman who had four children from previous relationships. They have since divorced, but during their marriage we had quite a few horrifying experiences. The first happened at the house where my dad and now ex stepmother got married. It was a beautiful old Victorian style home with four bedrooms, three bathrooms and a lovely backyard. They had their wedding ceremony in our living room in front of the fireplace. The pastor from our church officiated and I think that's what stirred up the evil that lurked in our home. This is my dad's story and I don't remember it because I was too little little. But I will tell it exactly as he told me. He and my brothers, who we will call Matt and jj, planned on going fishing for the day. My dad asked Matt to go to the garage and get the fishing poles. While retrieving them, Matt noticed a light coming from the wall. He went and got my dad and they found what appeared to be a hidden room in our garage that we did not know existed. My dad called the landlord, reasonably annoyed that we were paying to light a room that we did not even know was there. On the phone, the landlord became very defensive and said, you are not to go in that room. It is locked and sealed off for a reason and wouldn't elaborate any further. My dad decided it wasn't worth the fight and did what the landlord said. Matt, however, being a rebellious and curious teenager, decided to investigate further. He broke the lock and opened the door to find very large black duffel bags like the ones coroners use to transport bodies along with odd tools like a chainsaw and some large rusty knives and men's clothing. My dad caught him lurking and scolded him, telling him to stay out of there. After he opened the door, we were no longer alone in that house, and Matt was no longer Matt. One night, my dad awoke to what sounded like footsteps coming from the hallway outside the master bedroom. They were pacing back and forth, back and forth. Dad crept to the door, opened it, and saw that Matt was pacing up and down the hallway. He told him to go back to bed, and Matt just turned and stared at him, expressionless. This continued night after night, and it really started to freak my dad out. One morning, he woke to find Matt leaned over his bed, not inches from his face, just staring at him, emotionless. He yelled and told him to get out, and Matt just calmly stood up straight and walked out of the room. My dad locked the bedroom door that night, and Matt stood outside of it and rattled the doorknob all night long. His weird behavior did not stop there. A few days later, my dad and stepmom were in the kitchen just talking, and Matt came in out of nowhere and attacked my dad. He went insane, hitting and thrashing, and my dad had to put him in a chokehold to get him to stop. Stop. My dad said that there was no white in his eyes. They were pure black. Another experience happened to my brother jj. At the top of the stairs, there was a railing that extended left and right, and from there you could see the entire living room. My dad walked out of his room to see JJ standing and staring into the corner of the living room. He tried to get his attention and. And upon further inspection, saw that he looked absolutely terrified. JJ pointed into the corner of the living room and said, dad, I'm in the living room. What are you talking about? My dad asked him, confused. I'm in the living room. We believe that what JJ saw was his doppelganger. My parents decided decided to move us out of that house. The last thing that happened to us there was when my dad was the only one in the house grabbing the last few things left behind. It was a scorching summer day, so dad decided to take a shower. He swears he saw something walk past the shower curtain in the bathroom. He quickly got out and was sitting on a toilet to put his socks on when he heard a sort of low growling noise coming from the vent below him. He bent down and a low, guttural voice said, get out. Blowing hot air onto him. He ran out of the bathroom, out of the house and never went back. Since then, every time we pass the house or hear from old neighbors, the house is always for sale or for rent. My brother lived a very troubled adolescence but has since straightened up, found comfort in religion and now has a family of his own. He tells my dad he does not remember anything that happened in that house or attacking my dad. I think we really pissed off whatever was in that house by inviting a pastor in and my brother was just unlucky enough to be the one who let it out. She's made up her mind to live pretty smart, learn to budget responsibly right from the start. She spends a little less, inputs more into savings, keeps her blood pressure low and credit score, raises gottin debt right out of her life. She tracks her cash flow on a spreadsheet at night. Boring money moves make kinda lame songs but they sound pretty sweet to your wallet. BNC Bank Brilliantly boring since 1865 this episode is brought to you by LifeLock. Between two factor authentication, strong passwords and a VPN, you try to be in control of how your info is protected. But many other places also have it and they might not be as careful. That's why LifeLock monitors hundreds of millions of data points a second second for threats. If your identity is stolen, they'll fix it, guaranteed or your money back. Save up to 40% your first year. Visit lifelock.com podcast for 40% off terms apply. For some quick context, this happened last year around Christmas. My girlfriend and I were on our way from college to visit my family and spend Christmas with them. This is important as it is my first time ever speaking about this story publicly because every time I try to talk about it with my girlfriend, she always laughs and shuts it down, saying the place was just creepy but nothing else. During our trip, late into the night, my girlfriend and I decided to pull over as it was already really dark and we were both tired and needed to rest. We pulled over to this really odd looking motel on the road. You know those sort of cliche horror movie motels? Like the ones where you can tell a cheap snuff film was recorded? Yeah, we parked the car there and I vaguely remember looking over at my girlfriend and making a comment about the presentation of the motel. Although I don't remember much about my comment, I vividly remember my girlfriend Will whispering to me about this eerie feeling she got. Like when you have that feeling you're being watched but can't really describe it. Yeah, that feeling. We decided to Ignore it as both of us were really tired and not in the mood to argue about finding a new place to stay overnight. The weather seemed to be getting worse over time, so we were definitely not in the mood to be driving late into the night. When we got to the reception desk, we were caught off guard by the sight of an old woman, maybe in her mid-70s. She appeared to be sleeping and both my girlfriend and I did not want to wake her. Fortunately, as we were about to give her a light tap on her shoulder, she snapped out of her daze, greeted us warmly, and apologized for falling asleep. This lady appeared to be in her 70s Like I mentioned, so my girlfriend and I understood and didn't give her a hard time. The warm welcome made us feel a little bit more comfortable and helped us settle down for the night. After this incident, the lady escorted us to our room and we thanked her for everything, the usual motel booking stuff. We started to settle down for the night and although we were tired, things started to get hot and steamy. While we were finishing up, I looked through the wind window and I could have sworn I saw a figure disappear. Although I couldn't be sure what I saw, I could have sworn it was the old lady's figure just out of view. I didn't want to weird my girlfriend out, so I decided to keep it to myself and just act like everything was normal. After we had finished and my girlfriend fell asleep, I decided to go out for a quick smoke break to help me sleep as I suffer from insomnia and didn't want to disturb my girlfriend by playing videos out loud, which are the only things that can help put me to bed. Just as I was about to head back into our room, the sound of loud crashing followed by a woman's screams pierced my ears. That feeling when you just know something is very wrong. The primal fear that makes you just want to hide under your blanket and close your eyes. To this day, of all of the things I have ever experienced, it is the one thing I truly never want to experience again. Just as I caught myself zoning out thinking about what could have happened, I saw a woman, maybe in her 20s, running in the opposite direction from where all the rooms were. To my shock and horror, a man came running out of the same room chasing her. Without thinking, I quickly ran in their direction and I think this was enough to scare him off as he quickly backed away and left the woman alone. I took her back to the reception where I asked the same lady who booked us in to call 911. She refused and told me to do it myself, which at the time I thought was really odd, but in hindsight, now it makes complete sense. Although I was taken aback by the old woman's sudden rude demeanor, I realized there was no time to waste as the man had more time to run away. As I began to call the cops, the old lady suddenly began to throw a fit telling me to hang up the call and that she would pepper spray me if I didn't. Realizing that something was really off and that my girlfriend was still alone in our room, I decided to go get her and our stuff and take the woman who was chased by the man to the nearest police station and just get out of here. As we got into the car, the woman started breaking down and began telling us how earlier that night she too first saw the old lady peeking into her window and decided to brush it off, thinking she was seeing things. When she had finally decided to get some rest later into the night, she woke up to the sounds of heavy breathing by her door. Looking up, she saw the same man that I saw chasing her. She panicked, throwing the closet thing next to her at the door made of frosted glass, hence the breaking sound that I heard. Quickly grabbing the things closest to her, she ran out leading up to what I had seen. After we had dropped the woman off at the police station and although exhausted to death, I drove us to my parents house and blacked out. I asked my girlfriend about it and she just brushed me off. So I decided to put it aside as it was Christmas time and I didn't want to ruin the mood. Now that it's around that time again, I remembered what happened and decided to follow up with the police report as I was a witness for the case last last year. Apparently this wasn't a random man, it was the old lady's son. Which makes sense why she didn't want us to call the cops. And this was not their first run in with the law either. I didn't ask further than that, but I did ask about the woman who fell victim to this act. If anyone is wondering, yes, she's doing okay and we still keep in very frequent contact.
- [43:57]
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The Sea Support for this podcast and the following message comes from America's Navy the Navy offers new graduates, hands on training and experience in careers like computer science, aviation and medicine, plus education and sign on bonuses. Parents help your grads start their career today@navy.com youm say you'll never join the Navy, never climb Mount Fuji on a port visit or break the sound barrier. Joining the Navy sounds crazy. Saying never actually is. Learn why@navy.com America's Navy forged by the Sea I have never been a person who's kept many close relationships. It's never been my nature to let people into my life. I've always taken stock in being an observer, getting to know people from a distance. This trait is what led me to become so enmeshed in Monica's life. Monica Stevens and her husband Dylan were my neighbors and my landlords at my new apartment. I had just moved to the city from my small town mostly to find work, but it didn't hurt that there were many more people watching opportunities here than at my previous residence. My apartment was not lavish by any stretch, but it was perfect for me. I lived on the top floor. A view of the rooftop garden from my kitchen and my bedroom window was directly across from the Stevens kitchen window window as they lived just two doors down. Although I had tried, I could never get a view of their bedroom as their thick blackout curtains were shut tightly all hours. For the first time after I moved in, I learned this Steven's routine. Each morning, Monica would already be at the kitchen table by the time I Woke up at 6. She would sit, her chin propped up against her palm, head buried into her book, the long blonde curls falling in front of her face. It was so cute. When Dylan got up, I could tell she stiffened at his presence. Immediately he began to berate her. I could see the spittle fly from his mouth as he slammed her book shut, grab his keys and walk out the door. This was almost a daily occurrence. If he was not screaming in her face, he would sit across from her silently eating a bowl of cereal and then disappear out the door. When he left, he would not come back again until dinner time. I don't know what he would do during the day, but I never cared to find out. He was probably cheating on Monica, that pig. Plus, if I followed him, it would be less time I could spend with my beautiful girl. Hour after hour, hour Monica would sit at that table, unmoving. The poor thing was paralyzed with fear. I hadn't known her that long, but I knew I could never let her stay with this jerk. When Dylan got home, he walked in and picked her up from her chair and took her to the bedroom. I could hear his insincere apologies, just saying sorry in hopes that he would get laid. They come out an hour later, him placing her back into the wheelchair. I would watch Monica sit with her back at my window while her doting husband cooked dinner. He looked in seeming silence, not speaking to her or even acknowledging her presence. It baffled me how that troll could treat a woman of that caliber with such carelessness. Although I could never get a clear view of her her face, I could tell she was beautiful, shy, and that he didn't love her like I did. He was so controlling. His wife never left the apartment complex, let alone feel safe enough to even move from the kitchen table during the day. The only time she could come out was Saturday morning when I would see her at the Rooftop Garden. I knew she wanted me to save her. After observing the the routine for about two weeks at that point I could pinpoint exactly when I could corner Dylan. The morning I planned to confront him, there was a change in the usual routine. While Dylan was in the middle of his screaming session, he struck the back of Monica's head. This sent her forehead slamming down onto their wooden kitchen table and let me tell you, this set me off. The rest of the routine remained unchanged as at 7am exactly he would leave their apartment and head for the elevator following him. I left at 7:01 so I could catch the elevator right before the door closed. Wanting to seem nonchalant, I smiled when I walked into the elevator and introduced myself, stating that I was sorry for not formally introduced introducing myself since moving in. I hadn't interacted with him directly when I had signed the lease, just his property manager. He gave me the side eye so I confidently stuck out my hand to shake his. He grabbed it finally, his tarnished silver wedding ring cold on my hand, and said, yeah, I'm the landlord, Dylan. I told him I had noticed his wife's affinity for gardening and asked if she would like some company next time. I know a little early to get to talking about Monica, but I couldn't stop thinking about her. I couldn't spend any more time exchanging pleasantries with this jerk either. That's when something strange happened. He turned to me and grabbed my forearm, squeezing so tight that it was painful. He shoved me forcibly against the elevator wall and stuck said, listen, I know you've been stalking her. She wants you to leave her alone. Do you understand me? The elevator door dinged and opened. He let go of my arm and walked Straight out without another word, straight through the complex doors to his car and drove off. I stood, shocked. What was that? But I had gotten what I came for and that was all that mattered. That whole leave her alone was such an obvious lie. It confirmed to me that she needed my help. Dylan was becoming more unhinged by the day, and this episode in the elevator was proof. I went straight back up to my apartment, already thinking of what I was going to do on Saturday morning when she got to that garden. It was already Friday evening by the time Dylan got back from his daily escapades. I dreamt of her that night about finally turning her around, seeing that gorgeous face that was no longer hiding from Dylan, professing my love and running away. Together we would get a cottage so she could garden, but live near the city so we could people watch. Together we would both be free and happy. Saturday morning came, came, and I woke up early to prepare my things. When Dylan woke up, he went immediately to find Monica in the kitchen. He lit into her first thing. It was too muffled to hear exactly what he was saying, but loud enough that I could hear through their closed window, I could see her distress. She couldn't even lift her head to defend herself. This poor beaten down woman was counting on me. But it wasn't too much longer now. Dylan forcefully grabbed her wheelchair and wheeled her out of the apartment, heading for the roof. I watched as he dumped her there, screaming a final time, saying, you can just rot out here. I don't even care anymore. Dylan disgusted me. I wished I could run up there and take her away right then. However, I knew I had to wait for Dylan to depart Heart if I wanted to avoid a confrontation. Half an hour later, I approached the elevator so that I could reach the rooftop garden. As the elevator rose, I took a deep breath. Was I going to do this? Confess my love to this married woman and propose that we run away from her abusive husband together? I guessed so, because a moment later I was stepping out from the the elevator and into the small hallway that ended with the final obstacle between me and my love. As I approached the door that led on top of the roof, I felt the hot summer air begin seeping in. I turned the knob and stepped onto the bright roof. There she was. Monica. That silky blonde hair was instantly recognizable. It had fallen and covered her face slightly so that she couldn't quite see me approach. I walked over slowly as I didn't want to startle her. But then my emotions took over. I grabbed her shoulder, spun her around and closed my eyes right before I professed my love. But I got no response. I mean, nothing. Not a screw you, not an I love you too. Silence. I opened my eyes, expecting to meet the eyes of a beautiful woman. Instead, I gagged. She had no eyes. They were gone. No eyebrows either. They were replaced with thick black stitches that held her eyelids together. Her eyes were completely sewn shut. My eyes traveled down to her nose. She had a maggot hanging out of her right nostril and it turned to crawl into her left one. She was a repulsing pale color with burst veins littering her skin, then down to her mouth. It was sewn shut as well, and her lips were gone, ripped off her face. Her mouth was sewn into a line. No smile, no frown. Completely straight and emotionless. Beyond that, her legs were completely gone. I was expecting her to have been intact. I mean, I knew she was in a wheelchair, but her legs looked like they had been sawed off. They were jaggedly rotting, not being cauterized of anything. I couldn't look anymore. I ran to the hallway leading back to the elevator, vomiting. Once I gotten the door shut behind me, I ran to my apartment, where I deadbolted the door behind me and sunk down into a fetal position, sobbing. I felt indescribable loss and anger. What had he done to my beautiful future wife? He mutilated her. And he thought I was going to let him get away with this. I had no weapons beside a massive hammer from the an old toolbox I had under my sink. I stalked my way to the Stevens apartment and broke the doorknob off with a hammer, kicking the door in. I wanted to avenge my love. The apartment had an atmosphere so grotesque, so depraved, so much more disturbing than I could have ever imagined. I walked into the door and smelt rotting flowers, flesh seeping from the walls. The only light came from the singular kitchen window, the one I had stared into so many times, the one I never imagined would hold this horror lurking in the spots I couldn't see. Right by the window, just out of the view I could see from my apartment, was a meat hook. And there in the dim apartment hung Monica's left leg. He was going to eat her leg. I nearly puked on the kitchen table. I couldn't bring myself to leave, though. No matter how much my brain said to run, my feet kept taking me further into the apartment. I entered their bedroom. Dried blood splatter stained the walls and floors. It looked fairly faded. How long ago had he killed her? I knew it hadn't been long, but I believed that the whole time I had been living in this apartment, she had been dead. I gazed into my apartment window as I re entered the kitchen, imagining how untainted my mind had been just hours ago. I began to panic. I wanted to call the police. I had impenetrable evidence against Dylan. Not only was Monica slumped over on the road roof, but his apartment was a striking and completely incriminating crime scene. Before I attempted to get help, I knew I had to get Monica somewhere safe. I started my way out of the kitchen, making my way back to the front door. But then a voice rang out from just outside the front door. What the hell. Dylan yelled. He broke the routine. I had no chance of running. I ducked back into the bedroom and slid quietly into the attached bathroom. I could hear his thudding footsteps grow closer and closer as he threatened I have a weapon. Whatever creep is in here, I have a weapon. It was time for me to avenge Monica. I heard him enter the bedroom. I gripped the hammer in my hand, charged out of the bathroom and swung. I hit him directly in the left temple. He screamed, contouring with pain. I dropped the hammer and fled back to my apartment, adrenaline carrying me the whole way there. All I could focus on was getting his blood off me. When the police searched the apartment, they were in shock at the scene. It wasn't me that called them, but another tenant down the hall. By the time I was finished washing myself and disposing of my bloodied clothes, Monica had been found by the police. Coroners came and wrapped up her frail body. They lifted her up and she was gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye. Two days later I went to her closed casket funeral. It was a fairly publicized affair being how brutal, brutally tortured she had been. I stood in the back and after the burial I left my car packed with everything I owned. I left the city. I still dream of her dancing in the kitchen. How our lives could have been, of her beautiful sewn face. Monica, you're going to love my new place. It's the cottage we have always wanted. I can't wait to pick you up soon. See you. It's.