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A
Hello.
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Welcome to Scary Stories and Rain. Before we get into tonight's stories, I want to quickly announce the winner of our Nintendo Switch 2 bundle giveaway. Out of all the entries, the randomly chosen winner is Carolyn Lajoy. I apologize if I mispronounced that. Congratulations. I'll be reaching out to you shortly via email. I'll be posting a link in my next video's description with a screenshot showing proof of shipment. Just so everyone knows that my giveaways are legit. And if you didn't win this one, don't worry. The next giveaway starts right now, today, September 1st. And it's a nice one. Honestly, I like this one better. I'm giving away a PlayStation 5. Entries are open right now through October 15th. If you want a chance to win, just subscribe to my podcast. For $2.99 a month, you'll be automatically entered into all of the giveaways. Plus you'll get an ad free experience across every single episode. And you'll be supporting my show at the same time. So if you're interested, $2.99 a month. Check the details in the description to learn how you can subscribe. And last thing, thank you so much for being here.
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C
I really hope you enjoy My brother used to repeat this mantra to me when we were just children. My mother died of a horrible illness when we were young, and it did not take long after that for my father to become distant. Really, growing up, me and my brother only used to have each other. I remember being so young after my mother left us, everything seemed so scary. During thunderstorms. On the nights where the wind and the rain would seem to take on an entirely different form, my imagination would, as young imaginations do, run away with itself. My father was no longer able to offer any kind of reassurance, so naturally I would seek shelter in my big brother's room. Don't worry, he would whisper as I sank into bed with him, pulling the covers close to my face and in an effort to shield from the creeping darkness of the storm, just count to ten. Nancy. Since then, even now I am on the cusp of 20. His words have still lingered on. I am unashamed to say that I have counted to 10 many times in the subsequent years since then, and every time I do, I still feel like that small, scared little child hiding from the rain. The night it happened was no different. My father did not last long. The years following my mother's passing were nothing more than a massive binge for him. He begun to indulge heavily in alcohol. Far too heavily. The day that his liver finally decided that it had enough was the same day that he called us into the hospital to see him. Josh, Nancy, he spoke softly. The house will be yours. That was the only fatherly thing my father ever did for us. A few days later, he was gone. Now I'm 19. My brother and I have lived happily ever after since. After the house passed to us, we no longer had the worry of a roof or a shelter. We managed to sustain ourselves, our jobs paying for all the small amenities that our lives would inevitably require. One day my brother bought me a small pocket knife. It was a small blade, its handle nondescript but the blade adequately sharp. I cannot be with you all the time, he told me, handing me the small object, and I need to know that you're safe, even when I'm not there with you. Although I was no longer that scared little girl, running from noises and flashes of lightning, it still felt comforting to know that my big brother was still my protector, that he was still my light in the darkness. My night, the evening it all happened, was like any other. It was a Friday, and my brother would be away overnight for a party. I would have the house to myself, and I have to admit that after a hectic week at work, I was looking forward to nothing more than a glass of wine, quiet, solitude, and of course, a nice hot bath. I had already poured the glass, and it sat waiting patiently for me on the sink next to the tub. I moved through the house, latching closed the front door on my way to grabbing a fresh towel. I quickly retrieved one, and a few minutes later I had undressed and had already sunk back into the warm, inviting waters. An unmeasurable amount of time passed, my mind blank, and my body relaxed. The wine went down smoothly as the tension from the weak gradually drifted from my body, escaping into the warm waters around me. The candles I had lit aided in my relaxation, their flames flickering slightly within the darkness of the room. My phone had been vibrating for a while now, but I had barely noticed it as the calming sensations had claimed my mind. It vibrated straight through the call. Before I even had the chance to sit up and retrieve it from the shelf in front of me. I picked up the handset with wet hands, and the screen lit up in response. It was Josh. Just as I was about to return his call, a noise claimed my attention. It was small, a distant rumble originating from somewhere out in the emptiness. It was thunder. It roared quietly in the distance at first, obviously originating from a few miles away. It did not take long, however, for it to close the distance to my home. And before I knew it, Mother Nature roared loudly above my head. In an instant, I felt like that small girl once more, alone in the darkness, lost, without hope. I felt my heart quicken as the irrational fear took over. It's just a storm, I said aloud, my words sounding less than convincing. It'll pass. After a few moments, I realized that my anxiety was not lowering. My bath time was clearly over. Fate had decided that my relaxation had obviously come to an end. Defeated, I climbed from the bath, dried my body, and quickly redressed. As I opened the door to the bathroom, I quickly realized that my home was not exactly as I had left it. All of the lights which I had left on before entering were now switched off. The hallway was pitch black, and the darkness seemed to cling to every wall. I felt my heart once again quicken in pace as a surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins. What the hell? The air outside was thick and foreboding as reality set in. The house was now wrapped in a blanket of darkness, and I was alone with nothing but the silence and my own labored breath for company. It's just the fuses. I managed to think through the haze of fear. Grab a candle and check downstairs. It was a simple thought on the surface, a simple task that would require a simple touch. But simplicity had long escaped me, displaced somewhere amongst the shadows which had managed to infect every wall. Somehow I managed to will my legs to return me to the bathroom, where I retrieved a candle, bringing its delicate light back out with me into the cold blackness outside. The candle performed amicably. It partially lit my way as I moved towards the staircase. However, it proved a little too efficient as it beautifully lit the mudded footprints on the top step. I instantly froze. For a second, I struggled to comprehend the image. Dumbfounded, I turned, following their path to their place of origin. They seemed to originate from my room before leading into the hallway and finally down the steps before me. As I glanced down the incline of the stairway down into the darkness which lay beneath, the horrid truth slowly dawned on me. Someone was in the house. My body began to tremble as the realization set in. Someone was here. They were downstairs, and I was completely alone with them, trapped in a locked house with no means of escape. The air felt thick and rancid as I struggled to maintain my composure. What do I do? My phone would have been the most logical step. But logic has a way of betraying you when you are presented with a situation so utterly Terrifying. It would have been sensible to move back into the bathroom, to lock the door, and to call Josh for help. But sensibility is the first commodity to betray you during a storm. Without cause and without reason. My mind remembered the pocket knife. I knew where it was. It was not far. I had kept it close, just as my brother had asked of me. It was in the drawer on my bedside table, carefully stored there since the day that Josh had bought it for me. I could get to it. I was close. I had to be quiet. Thunder clapped loudly outside of the window. Although it was deafening, it barely concealed the sound of movement coming from the floor below. An intruder was definitely down there, creeping around in the shadows, waiting. Softly, my feet began to move, guiding me quietly into my room and toward the drawer. As I moved, I noticed the open window in my bedroom, the wind gushing through, drawing my attention to the point of entry. My brain barely registered this fact as I carefully opened the drawer and retrieved the knife which lay within. Slowly, I pushed the wood back into the table and crept back into the silent black hallway outside. As I did, another sound of movement below claimed my attention.
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There was shuffling.
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Someone was definitely moving downstairs. And very carefully, by the sounds of it, I quickly realized that this was a burglary. The lights had clearly gone out, and someone must have mistaken my property for an empty home. The reasons for the intrusion, however, no longer mattered. I was in danger, and I had to act in order to protect myself. I carefully unfolded the blade on the knife as my bare feet made contact with the cold wooden stairs. There are no words that can be used accurately to describe the pure terror which ensnared my mind. With each step, the fear grew. It coursed through the vessels woven throughout my body, boiling my blood and burning my soul. The knife shook in my hand as my mind drifted back. Back to those nights so long ago, when I would seek the comfort and protection of my bigger brother. Just like those nights, and just like all of the years which came after. I began to count. 1. I carefully took another step. Down two more steps. He's there, waiting for me. 3. I slowly lowered myself down another step. 4. A flash of lightning illuminated the figure below. 5. My heart threatens to burst from my chest. 6. My hands are shaking violently. 7. I am almost at the bottom. 8. He's hunched in the corner. Do something. 9. He has his back to me. I have to act. 10. The blade sinks into the back of his neck with little effort. The blood was instant. It gushed forcefully from the gap in the wound, shooting straight from the fine space in between the gash and the blade which remained stuck in place inside of the intruder's neck. I instinctively moved backwards as the assailant began to thrash around in surprise, knocking several objects from their resting place and smashing a vase which once sat precariously on a nearby shelf. My mind became numb as the scene unfolded before me. He moved around the room for a few seconds, desperately seeking for a surface to cling to, for an object to steady himself with, but he found none. After a few more moments of flailing, he collapsed heavily onto the floor, face up and eyes wide, whole body shaking. I instinctively stepped towards him, a blot of lightning illuminating the room as I neared his final resting place. As the sharp shot of light filled the room, my heart sank as a tear fell heavily from my eye. I was worried. My brother gurgled through the thick blood which had begun to ooze from the newly gaping wound. I, I I came home. He continued to gasp on for a few more moments as the sound of him choking on his own blood filled the small confines of the room. He sputtered and he fought, his breathing, becoming strained and quick as he. He desperately sucked at each last breath until finally he took his last. His chest ceased to rise, but his eyes remained open, locked permanently agape on his last horrifying moments. And all I did was look on, my actions misplaced and the consequences almost too much to bear. As I watched on as the last remaining light extended, distinguished from my life. I knew that I would be forever alone. And the realization was one of absolute soul wrenching terror. A lengthy investigation followed that night. The police were sympathetic and they eventually understood the circumstances surrounding Josh's death. Ultimately, it was labeled as an accident. They went on to explain that his friends had verified that at the party he had expressed concern for me being at home alone and had diligently decided to leave early. Upon returning home, he could not gain entry as I had latched the front door closed. He did try to call me, as shown by the call log stored on his phone, but I had not answered. Once the storm had begun, he had drunkenly decided to gain entry into our home by climbing the terrace just outside of my room, as he knew that I always left my window unlatched. The power being out had just been a cruel twist of fate as it was decided that he must have been trying to fix the issue. At the moment I had mistaken him for an intruder. It was then that I knew at that moment I killed him. At the moment I had robbed my protective big brother of his life, that he was still trying to be my knight. He knew that the darkness still haunted me, even though I pretended it did not. He knew that the storm would still get under my skin that night. He just wanted to protect me. And for all his nobility, he no longer lives. The storm does not scare me anymore. I have seen something much darker since that night. When Mother Nature emerges from her slumber and the wind and the rain threaten to invade the confines of my home. I barely flinch. For in that moment and every night since I see his face, I relive his final gasps. I am imprisoned by his fixed and open eyes. In those moments of solitude where I am trapped by my actions and encased with regret, I simply begin to count. But I can never get to 10. I used to live in a haunted house. When most people hear me say that, they chuckle and don't usually believe me. But I had seen undeniable proof of the ghost that inhabits my home. In fact, on a few occasions, I had seen him with my own eyes. Typically, when people think of haunted houses, they think of old, dusty two story homes that were built on native American burial grounds or was the place of a death years prior. I can tell you now, neither of those is the case when it comes to my home. My grandfather built this house after he married my grandmother and it's been in my family ever since. After my grandparents died, it was inherited by my father, and after he and my mother passed, it came to me. You might be thinking that Pat must be the ghost of my grandfather or father, but no, that's wrong too. He's been around ever since my grandfather completed construction. It wasn't like he was there during the process of building the house either. Pat literally showed up the day after all of the work was said and done. Obviously this initially freaked my grandparents out. Nothing malicious ever happened though. Just some sounds of footsteps, the occasional sounds of the doors opening and closing, and the drop of temperature in whatever room Pat was in at the time. The thought of a ghost being in their home, however, just didn't sit right with them at first. They tried everything they could to banish him. They called in priests and even an exorcist, but nothing ever worked. After many attempts, they had contemplated selling the house and moving away. But my grandfather just wouldn't accept that he had built that house with his own two hands and that pride wouldn't allow him to abandon it. Eventually, my grandparents learned to live with Pat. As I said, he was never malicious or did anything to cause harm. He was Just there. After my grandparents died, my father thought that their ghosts would linger around the house as well, but that never happened. Pat was the only entity around and it would stay that way. My father tried to learn more about Pat by researching the area where we lived, but never found any credible results. It was as if Pat just materialized out of nowhere once the house was finished. One time when I was a teenager, a group of friends came over and we tried to communicate with Pat through a Ouija board. My parents had strictly forbidden this, so of course, being the teenage dumbass that I was, I decided to do it anyway behind their back. This is usually the part of the story where all kinds of hell would break loose because of the Ouija board, but that didn't happen. After many unsuccessful attempts to contact him, Pat finally showed himself to us. His body was faint and we couldn't make out any real features other than the shape of his body. He looked to be about my height and weight, had short hair, black dress pants and a white dress shirt. Hi Pat, I said in a quiet voice. He stood there and gave me a confused look and then slightly smirked, closed his eyes and lifted his arm in a wave. I continued, pat's probably not your name, right? He shook his head, keeping the smirk on his face. I continued on. Well, can you tell me your name? The smirk left his face and was replaced by a sad look. He looked down to the floor and then to me and shook his head again. I had guessed that he must not be able to speak, which made sense seeing as there had never been any moans or wails or anything else vocal that you'd expect from a haunting. You can use the board, I informed him, pointing to the wooden box. He walked over to it and using his finger spelled out don't remember. He looked up at me again, still a sad look in his eyes. Is it alright that I call you Pat? I asked for the sake of him at least not having a name. He nodded and the smirk came back. After that experience with Pat, my friends and I decided to look into other paranormal activities. We live in Ohio so there was plenty to look into. There is only one experience, however, that stands out from the rest and it would be the last. After inheriting the house following the death of my father from a years long battle with Camp Answer, I turned it into a base of operations for my friends and I. We would meet there and plan out where we would investigate this time. It was an old abandoned mental hospital that was known as the Ridges. It was famously known to be haunted, so I was particularly excited to visit it as it had been a dream of mine to do so ever since we first got into the paranormal game. As we pulled up to the front gates in our van, I could feel my heart racing from excitement. I have to advise anyone thinking of doing this to not do this. Not only is it actually trespassing, since overnight investigations aren't allowed, but what I encountered here scared me off of paranormal investigation for the rest of my life. It was when we stepped foot on the grounds that the horror would really begin. After jumping the gates and walking around outside, I noticed something in the window of one of the upper floors. I could see a man standing there staring at me. He was completely white from head to toe. White clothes, pale skin, even white hair.
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Something about him made me feel incredibly uneasy and everyone else said the same. We all knew that something was wrong because never before had we been scared off of a location this easily.
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We got out of there pretty quickly.
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Packed into the van and took off.
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Uh, guys?
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Said Andrew, who was sitting in the back of the van with his wife, Jen, my girlfriend. Jamie and I looked out of the back window and saw what he was seeing. There was the man in white standing in the middle of the road, the only part of him not white being his eyes, which were instead glowing a bright red. I could feel my heart racing as we all tried to register what we had just seen. Soon I felt myself start to doze off when Andrew once again exclaimed, guys. I sprung awake as Jamie and I turned around. That thing is following us. He continued as we looked out of the window again, Jamie squeezed my arm. The man in white was directly behind us and it looked like he was just standing in place, but he was somehow keeping up with the car. At this point, we had all started to freak out and I turned around to tell Bill, the driver, to speed it up. As I turned back around to look out of the window again, I noticed that the man in white was gone. Where did he go? Asked Andrew. I don't know, I responded.
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He just disappeared.
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We thought that maybe we outran it or it just gave up. But then Jen started to act weird. Andrew had said she was feeling really sick, so she went to sleep on his shoulders. We didn't think anything of it and just chalked it up to her being exhausted. When we got home, Andrew, Jen and Bill said their goodbyes and left. We were concerned about Jen because she still looked like absolute crap and we hoped she was feeling better in the morning. Later that night, I began to feel sick myself. I felt Like I was gonna throw up and ran to the bathroom but nothing came out. I walked over to the sink and noticed how pale I was looking. I decided to turn in for the night and Jamie agreed to stay the night to keep an eye on me. I fell asleep and was soon awoken by loud noises. My initial thought was that Pat must be active again, so at first I ignored just kept going however, which sounded like someone rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen. Suddenly there was the sound of crashing and screaming. I recognized the voice as being Jamie, so I sprung out of bed and into the kitchen where the source of the noise was standing. There was the man in white standing over the bloodied body of my girlfriend. There were what appeared to be knife wounds all over her body and a horrified look of pain and fear was frozen on her face. I screamed in anguish at the sight of her corpse and with tears of anger in my eyes, I ignored my initial fear and ran directly at the man in white, tackling him and knocking the knife out of his hand.
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He put up a fight as I.
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Landed blow after blow on him and I overpowered him surprisingly easily. Throughout it all, not a single drop of blood stained his claw clothes. He remained entirely clean and the only part of him that was red was his demonic looking red eyes. I reached over and grabbed the knife, ready to plunge it into his chest, but suddenly I felt a hand grab my arm. I looked over and it was Pat. He was completely solid now and I could see more features. On his face was a graying goatee and his short hair also had spots of gray. Honestly, he looked similar to my father with some minor differences here and there. Don't, he said to me as he took the knife from my hands. He placed the knife on a counter and walked over to the man in white who was now standing. A look of anger was plastered on his pale face and the red eyes looked even more terrible. Terrifying. No, said Pat as he grabbed the man by the throat. Not this time. A look of fear replaced the anger on the pale man's face as Pat turned his head to face me. He gave me that signature smirk and nodded his head. I was completely confused as to what was happening, but I nodded in response. Pat then turned his attention to the man in white, still gripping his throat with both hands and closed his eyes. Suddenly a bright light came from Pat and engulfed them both. I could hear the sounds of a demonic wail as the light swallowed them and disappeared along with the light. Pat and the man in white were gone. Suddenly I looked to the floor where I'd beaten up the man in white and saw Jamie. She was crying and shivering in fear, her face bruised and bloody. Jamie. I exclaimed as I tried to approach her, but she screamed and backed away from me. I looked at my hands, still covered in the blood that was not my own, and looked over at Jamie. It was at that moment that I had realized what I had done. It wasn't the man in white that I was attacking. It was Jamie. She sat on the floor, her arms around her knees and sobbed. I fell to my knees and sobbed into my hands. I'm sorry. I choked out. I'm so sorry. This was 10 years ago. I have never experienced anything paranormal ever since as I had given up the desire to seek it out. Even Pat is gone. I never saw him again after he and the man in white were engulfed by the bright light. All of my friends and my now ex girlfriend are no longer part of my life. The reason the man in white took so long to attack me and Jamie was that he first attached himself to Jen. They weren't so lucky and Jen ended up throwing Andrew out of their bedroom window and jumped herself after realizing what she had done. Bill was next and he ended up getting hit by a car after running into the middle of traffic. After that was when the man in white possessed me. The only reason Jamie and I are.
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Alive was because of Pat.
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He stopped me from killing her and he saved my life in the process. Jamie understood the situation but couldn't stand being around me regardless. Seeing me kept reminding her of our friends and she never forgot the experience of me nearly beating her to death. She left me shortly after she was.
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Released from the hospital.
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She claimed that she was attacked by a random assailant. So I never faced any repercussions for what I had done. Even though a part of me still feels that I should. Even if I was manipulated by some evil entry, it was my hands that hurt her. I never forgave myself.
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I miss Jamie.
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I miss all of my friends. Most of all though, I miss Pat. He was there my entire life. I don't know what exactly happened between him and the man in white, but he's gone now and I blame myself. I brought that face into my home because I was nosing around where I didn't belong. Pat saved me and Jamie and sacrificed himself to do it. And none of it had to even happen. I don't know where Pat came from and I don't know where he went. I don't know if he was a ghost, an angel or something else. But I am thankful that he was a part of my family for so many years. I hope that wherever he is, he is at peace. So for context, me and my husband, Gideon, live in the Bronx with our two rescue cats, Mr. Watson and Disco Biscuit. Since I have classes and he has to work, the cats have the house to themselves throughout the day. Occasionally they go on small adventures throughout the burrow, usually coming back around nine with a dead rat as a souvenir. But for the most part, they stay in the house. Some point in March, Gideon had the idea to buy those little cat cams that you strap onto your cat's collar so you can see what they do when you're not home. Basically a feline GoPro I was interested in, and he found one for 15 bucks on Wish, so he ordered it. Lo and behold, about 12 weeks later, the cams arrived. We knew we'd be out of the burrow all day, so we figured it was as good of a time as any to strap on the cameras before we left. When we got back, we discovered that as it turned out, neither bothered to leave the house that day, which made waiting for the cameras and the SD cards they contained much easier. We plugged discos into Gideon's computer, sat down on the couch and started watching. We skipped around for the first three or so hours in which nothing happens in a matter of minutes. At around noon, it gets weird. In the video, at 12:15, Disco is staring at the fridge eagerly. Watson is next to him, and they're trilling at each other. They sit there silently for about two minutes until the door opens. Inside of the fridge sits a girl with her knees to her chin, holding the door open with her hand. She has thick dreads, shorts, a pink hoodie, and sandals. I doubt she's more than 17, but when she sees the kitties, she smiles a big wide Holy crap, crap, it's a cat smile. She says something inaudible, still grinning, and the cats climb into the fridge with her. She shuts the door again. Even though the cameras are now inches away from her face, her voice still whispers. The thrum of the fridge makes it indecipherable. She begins to pet them. Disco purrs. The view from his camera becomes obscure, obscured as he nuzzles into her hoodie. After a few minutes of this, the girl stops whispering, indecipherable or not. A few minutes after that, Watson trills at disco and he looks up to see that the girl no longer has a head. With her free non cat petting hand, she presses a finger to where her mouth would be. She scratches Watson and Disco Watson purrs. Disko does not, then opens the door. They both jump out the rest of the footage until the noise of the door swinging open and letting in me and Gideon is simply Disko in a sunbeam, presumably napping. His camera records Watson sitting on a couch, his eyes closed. When the cops came a few hours ago to get the headless ball body out of our fridge, it was estimated she had been dead for about three weeks. Some of her nails were scattered around the bottom of our fridge. Her legs and arms were bloated and puffy. Her brown skin was a mattassee of red and green from decomposition, plus blue from having frozen to death. The fridge had stopped the smell, but the visuals were left perfectly intact. About an hour ago, the girl's head was found two apartments down in the freezer of an elderly Cuban woman that Disko was known to visit on his expeditions. She was in hysterics. Her English is poor, but she managed to say that she had never seen the girl in her life. Since all three of us were witnesses, I got to hug her on the way to the station. Once we got back, Gideon threw the cat cams out the window. Disco Biscuit seems to know something's wrong and is in bed giving us cuddles. But Mr. Watson stays at the fridge, staring, meowing, tail flicking in curiosity. A few minutes ago I even heard him scratching something he's always known to keep on the scratch post. I know it's just my jumpy nerves, but I'm convinced that I keep hearing the fridge door swing open.
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E
Prime delivery is fast. How fast are we talking? We're talking puzzle toys and lit pad delivered so fast you can get this puppy under control fast. We're talking chew toys at your door without really waiting. Fast pads, cooling mat, and peg time are fast and fast. And those training T R E A T s faster than you can say sit fast. And now we can all relax and order these matching hoodies to get cozy and cute. Fast, fast. Free delivery. It's on Prime.
- [37:17]
A
It's been so long. How have you been? Hello. I'm doing well, Dave. Why are you talking that way? Please say one for a compliment or two for a question. Yeah, this is weird. I think I'm gonna go.
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F
Talking with an automated phone tree can feel pretty ridiculous. That's why when you call Pacific Source Health Plans, you'll get a real to answer all your important questions. Pacific Source Health Plans. This is a real person how can I help you? Human service, not automated phone trees. Find a plan at pacificsource members first.com.
- [37:47]
G
Mike and Alyssa are always trying to outdo each other. When Alyssa got a small water bottle, Mike showed up with a 4 liter jug. When Mike started gardening, Alyssa started beekeeping.
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C
Oh come on.
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G
They called a truce for their holiday and used Expedia trip Planner to collaborate with on all the details of the trip. Once there, Mike still did more laps around the pool.
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A
Whatever.
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G
You were made to outdo your holidays. We were made to help organize the competition. Expedia Made to travel.
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E
Amazon Gastamenos Son Riemas.
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C
It'S it's.