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- [00:00]
A
Hey, welcome to Scary Stories and Rain. Real quick. Before we begin, I just want to remind you that if you want to subscribe to this podcast for just 2.99amonth.
- [00:08]
B
You'Ll get rid of all of the.
- [00:10]
A
Ads across every single episode and you'll be automatically entered to win all of my giveaways that I do every month. Right now we have a PlayStation 5 on the line, so if you want to be entered to win, subscribe for just 2.99amonth, get rid of all of the ads, and you'll also be supporting the podcast, which is highly appreciated. And last thing before we begin, I just want to say thank you so much for being here and I really.
- [00:32]
B
Hope you enjoy this episode I am female, almost 38 years old and would like to tell you about an experience that I had with my dog at the time. English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. It's been about 11 years. It was autumn and night and I decided to take a little walk around our housing estate with my dog Sunny. Sunny is a black and big Labrador mix. She is really good and cuddly, but she hates other female dogs. She also has a strong protective instinct and always snarled when she doesn't know or doesn't like someone or something. There were no street lights inside the settlement. The only lighting was always at the house entrances. There was a small park with small playgrounds between the rows of houses, but as already mentioned, everything was in complete darkness. That's why Sunny was not to be seen, only to be heard now and then when she was chasing a rabbit into the bushes. Then it goes without saying that she wasn't on the leash. I only need this when other female dogs are nearby. Sunny listens to my word and always comes when I call her. So while I strolled comfortably through the dark settlement and froze my ass, Sunny ran happily through the area and the bushes. I always only guessed where she was because I could not see her, only heard from time to time. At some point I noticed a small shadow that was whizzing around me. When I looked more closely I could see Sunny. She ran in large circles around me and the place where I was and I thought she was chasing something, but the circles she drew grew smaller and smaller. She didn't make any noise and I went on comfortably because I thought she was having her five minutes. That's what I would call when someone is going a little crazy. At some point I didn't hear her anymore but I went on knowing she would follow him. Then I heard a sound, footsteps, but they weren't my own. I was startled because they were so close behind me so suddenly. So I turned around but couldn't see anything thanks to the darkness. I got nervous and called out for Sunny because it could have been someone with a dog. Sunny didn't come and I panicked. She suddenly stood in front of me out of nowhere and began to growl as violently as she ever has before. My blood froze because it couldn't be a good thing. Then she started walking straight ahead, growling about two or three meters stopped. And at that moment I recognized a figure completely in black. This person was shocked in front of Sunny and didn't move and Sunny started barking like there was no tomorrow. The person slowly walked back towards the lighted house entrances. Then I saw Sonny bare teeth in front of a young man wearing a hooded sweater and probably started to experience the same fears as I did when I noticed him because as close as he had sneaked up to me, he couldn't have had any good in mind since it was too dark. However, he could not see Sunny and she must have surprised him. At the right moment, Sunny started to jump and at that moment the guy let out a scream and you could hear something falling from his hand on the ground. He ran and my dog followed. After I had released myself from my shock stiffness, I called out to Sonny as loud as I could until after a short time she was standing in front of me again wagging her tail. I took her on the leash and then went back to where the guy had dropped something and indeed there was an arm thick branch on the ground that he certainly didn't have with him to throw sticks at home. It gradually dawned on me that Sunny did not have her five minutes when she circled me, but that she had long since noticed and kept an eye on this person to protect me. On the other hand, that was creepy, but also a relief. I was and still am so grateful for this great dog. It was probably only after my close call that my mind really started to run away with what could have happened were it not for my dog. I am a 26 year old female. I live with my fiance, my two cats and my dog Rowan. Our house is literally less than a minute away from a huge farmer's field that is frequented by many dog walkers. At all times of the day, me and my significant other often take turns walking Rowan around the field throughout the day. It was only around 7:30pm and it was still really bright and Sunny Rowan was letting me know it was time to go for a Walk. So while my partner was tinkering in the garage, I grabbed his leash and headed to the field. Let me quickly tell you about Rowan. He is a 2 year old Rottweiler who is very loving and playful but would not hurt a fly. Not a bad bone in his body. He is also extremely well trained. We made sure to put the effort in as he's a big dog breed with a bad rep, so wanted to make a point of not feeding stereotypes. I am very much of the opinion there's no bad dogs, just bad owners. Unfortunately we have had some run ins with some not so good dog owners, so Rowan gets a little nervous when meeting new dogs and people, but we're working on it. Back to the story, we're walking around the farmer's field. Rowan is off sniffing and peeing on every blade of grass in sight. I always keep an eye out for other walkers anyway due to Rowan being a little nervous and I clocked a guy on his own walking down the path towards me, fairly far away. At first I thought nothing of it as plenty of people walk this route without dogs. We were just coming out of lockdown in the uk. As the guy got closer I noticed he was in a full track suit with the hood up, which was odd as it was like 23 degrees, so shorts and T shirt weather. He then took a small path off the field leading through some bushes. It was a public made shortcut rather than an official public footpath, but it was well enough used so I kept walking thinking nothing of it. At about 15 meters away from the path he took, Rowan shot back to my side immediately dropping the mouthful of dirt he had been pretending not to eat. I petted him and noticed he was standing super alert, staring at the path entrance. When I looked up I caught a glimpse of the man peeking around the edge of the bushes that concealed the entrance. I stopped dead in my tracks and Rowan's fur was stood on end as he positioned himself in front of me. It took me a second to realize that this man had been watching and waiting in the bushes. For me to approach my current route would have meant I'd be walking right by the path's opening. My stomach dropped as I realized we were the only ones around on that field. I had this weird moment where I was almost trying to convince myself that I was overreacting, but then the guy whistled. Not a wolf whistle, but as if to try and get my dog to come to him. Rowan was having none of it though, and I definitely took that as my cue to trust my Stranger danger instincts. I immediately turned and sped walked back the way we came, simultaneously pulling my phone out and dialing my partner's number. I ended up having to clip on Rowan's leash to get him to walk with me and he was not taking his eyes away from the path. He was even growling a little, which was so out of character and put me on edge even more. I glanced back and the man had edged slightly out of the bushes watching me walk away. My partner answered the phone after a few rings. I was only halfway through stammering out the story and he was already sprinting up to the field to meet me, telling me to stay on the phone but keep an eye on the man. The man in the tracksuit now fully came out of the bushes and just stood staring at me walking away. I dared a quick look away from him towards the entrance to the field to see my fiance jogging towards me. He was relieved I was okay, but was also immediately pointing and shouting, is that him? Clearly furious at what this man might have had in mind had Rowan not picked up on him hiding in the bushes. I eventually convinced my fiance not to confront him as he was still stood staring, almost taunting us. You never know what people might be capable of or have concealed. We came off the field and took Rowan on a different walk, which he was more than happy about. I have never been so proud of Rowan for stepping up and protecting protecting me. Safe to say he got plenty of treats and fussing when we got home. So to preface this, I was young, maybe 18 or 19 and had no idea what we were getting into. So my father owns three businesses and was actively dating his business partner and was providing for her. She also made advances on me which kinda creeped me out. She would buy us all food and at first I was grateful, but then I started becoming nervous as she wanted to be alone with me a lot. My father ended up getting married but didn't tell her and she got really upset at him and told me not to tell her. She came to my job and demanded to see my father, to which I told her he wasn't there. She screamed at me and said we would soon regret it due to the disturbing nature. I called the cops and all they did was take my name and didn't actually look into it. So fast forward. I come home around 12 o' clock midnight as I had just come from my second job, dead tired from school and work. I ate and crashed on my bed. It had to be at least three in the morning when I heard my door open at First I didn't move because I assumed it was my calico cat Misty pawing at my door as she liked to sleep with me. When I groaned her name and she didn't answer, it struck me strange but I wasn't worried until I felt a presence standing over me. I quickly woke up and discovered my father's ex in our house above me. Crazy eyed. She was screaming saying how she would get her revenge on my father. I quickly rolled out of my bed, ran past her and called the authorities. She openly tried to fight my father's wife and tried to stab my dad. The police came and arrested her on the spot. That was the scariest thing I have ever been through and I am glad I will never see her again. Now I sleep with a blade next to my bed and a taser. Please be careful as you never know who might pay you a late night visit.
- [12:06]
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- [12:39]
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So we me, my father and my brother moved into my house around six years ago. Cute house on the outside, but you could tell the inside was old and had its problem problems. Windows would shake when you slammed the front door, which you had to do. There was no heat, old carpets, doors hanging on by threads. Most people would pass the house up because of how poor the conditions were, but because my dad doesn't even lock his doors, safety was of little importance to him. Yeah, I know. Perfect setup to this story. A quarter of the backyard was actually a little motorcycle shop. The house used to be owned by the Hells angels in the 80s and you could tell that the shop housed planted weed and was the spot to sell drugs. I knew that many people probably knew of this house. It has rich history. I can't exactly pinpoint the first event, but I know that my quarter of the house freaked me out the most. Basically, when you're in the kitchen, you open a sliding door to a laundry room. Adjacent to that is a small room and then a bathroom. I want you to think long and hard about that setup. Hidden section of the house with a small room, immediate bathroom and laundry room. Gives me chills. Anyway, this Was my quarter. Every night that I slept there, I was terrified. My room has two windows with no blinds. And every night I felt eyes watching me sleep. I am a natural hot body, so in the summer my window is always open. One day me and my brother were hanging out in my room after dark. And as clear as day, we heard someone burp outside my room. We both looked at each other like, did you just hear that? And we both did. When I went to go look outside the window, I couldn't hear anything. If you're thinking of neighbors, don't waste your time. They live too far away to hear something like that so loud. Outside of my window, there is actually a crawlspace under the house. Picture a little trap door and if you pull off the piece of wood, you can easily shimmy under the house Right outside my window. Night after night I would hear footsteps outside or small branches breaking with weight, though I never checked because my fear left me paralyzed. I would tell my dad and he would say I'm just hearing ghosts or figments of my imagination. It was annoying. But it's my dad, so I know exactly how he is. And I should have known what to expect. I am really good with energy. I always have been. I can read a room even if my head was in my ass. Many times we would come home and as soon as I opened the front door, I felt different. Energy. You only know what I mean if you know what I mean. Someone had been in the house and I could feel it. They waltzed through here with no care of mind and slipped out the back of God knows where. I would bellow out, hello, is anyone here? But no one would answer. I would run to every corner of the house and check for strangers, but never found one. I live in Canada. Everyone blazes here. I used to go outside to do it, but it just became unsafe. Before that happened, I would go smoke in the bike shop. I had a bong and bud and a lighter. One night I thought I would go to bed, but leave the bong and bud in the shed. Because why take it out if I'm just coming back tomorrow? The next day I came back to my weed gone and my bong used. You could tell as there was new resin on the bowl. This was my first confirmation that I wasn't actually going crazy and that everything I had been hearing or feeling was real. I grabbed my stuff and ran in the house. I never smoked outside again. Some days I would have to go to the shed to grab something of mine. And some days I would look into the black abyss that was the shed and shudder as my bones turned ice cold. Whoever was in the shed at the time had horrible, horrible energy. Just looking into the shed made me feel sick and lightheaded. You couldn't pay me money to go inside. During those moments, any item I have ever had that I cherished I have lost here. I have never lost so many things before, but I often joke around that this house has a mouth and it's always eating everything of importance. My dad thinks it's funny, but I know the truth. One night I got really drunk and dropped my diamond bracelet in my backyard in the snow. The next morning I realized it was gone. I was devastated, but knew it could only be outside. We waited for the snow to melt, but when we went outside to look for it, it was gone. I never found that bracelet. Just like I have never found many of the other things I have lost here. Some days we will come home and the front door will be open. Some days we will come home and the back door will be open. Some days I will come home and look for something I set down and will either never find it or find it in a different room. One day I was standing in front of my front door, but I was facing the road, just observing. All of a sudden I notice a man tinkering with the RV parked in our driveway. He doesn't notice me yet. I watch him pick at the aluminum exterior as if he were trying to rip the outside wall apart. He finally sees me and hides behind the rv. I call out, hey, hey. But he disappears into the laneway. I told my dad some guy was tinkering with the outside of the rv. And he basically tells me, what you gonna do? I don't know. I'm pretty numb to this situation. I have been begging my dad to start locking his doors, get cameras, or even just listen to what I'm trying to tell him. I have been gathering evidence and documenting situations for six years. You think the man would listen to me? Let me know if I'm just dumb or if he is an airhead and I have been right all along. Please let me know because this situation has made me a little insane in the membrane. One day I come to my father crying. I tell him I saw shadows of a man pacing outside my window last night. Night near the window with the trapdoor and crawl space below it. He says, what do you want me to do about it? I said, I don't know anything. Just check the crawl space. He shines a flashlight around there. Keep in mind the Crawl space loops around the house so there could be someone around the loop and in the opposite side of the house and my dad would never know because he never actually looked, just glanced. He puts the trapdoor back on and secures it, telling me, you'll be fine, nothing will happen to you. And we go on with our day. Sometime later, obviously, after I have forgotten about it, I was in the backyard. Something caught my eye so I looked near the crawl space and lo and behold, the trapdoor was ripped off and something shiny lay on the ground inside. I took a closer look and believe it or not, dozens of tiny squares of burnt tin foil lay on the ground. I have hung out with enough people to know exactly what that means. Now I know someone is smoking hard drugs directly below my window. I tell my dad and show him and he tells me, oh, it could be anything. Of course, one day I was also standing outside my house and a black Subaru forester pulls up and calls me to the car by name. They have a softball in their hands and asks me if I want the ball. They are trying to get me to grab it. I watch enough true crime to know they likely want to pull me into their vehicle. I stay where I am and they speed off down the road and turn up the road adjacent to mine. They start doing loops. I tell my family about it to and my brother mentions he saw the same car go by earlier twice and that he noticed it because the back window was completely covered with duct tape. This went on for about a month. Cops were called but they couldn't do anything because no crime was committed. Weeks go by and my dad started to seem mad at me but I could never pinpoint why. One time we had an argument and out of the blue he asked me me if I had been smoking meth. What? I am as hippy dippy as you get. I guess he thought with me always talking about someone being here that we don't know of. He assumed I was crazy and was actually doing drugs to become like that. I ask him why on earth he would think that and he starts to lead me to the shed. He takes me to the very back corner of it and what do you know? There's a cracked straight tube glass pipe on the table. I can't believe that after everything that's happened my dad would assume I am smoking crystal in the shed rather than the obvious person or persons I have been noticing around here. Did I mention that my dad and brother hear sounds coming from the crawlspace all the time? Every night? Guess what they Chalk it up to be no really guess. Raccoons and pipes. What would you do? After six years of noticing someone squatting at your house and six years of being told that you're crazy and nothing is actually happening, you start to get numb to new situations and also start to actually believe that you are crazy. I know I'm not, but still, I just don't know what to do anymore. At the time of these events, my brother, my father and I, 16 years old at the time, are road tripping through Nevada and California as my graduation gift. It is the end of August and after a long trip coming from Las Vegas, cruising through Los Angeles and heading north across California California we decided to stay in beautiful Santa Barbara for a few days. My father finds a motel not too far from the beach and we were all in wonder as to the movie like Beauty of the City we are staying in on the evening of our first night there, getting back to the motel shortly after feasting on greasy and savory pizza from Rusty's Pizza Parlor and walking along one of the most beautiful beaches in the usa. I start to get bored in the room. After having watched the television with my father and my brother for about an hour to change the scenery a bit, I decide to peek through our room window. As I kneel on the raspy purple carpeted floor and draw the thick and heavy curtains outward, a sense of dread invades my whole being. I am startled by the thing I see right across the street about 100ft from my window. What I'm looking at is at odds with the beautiful picture like frame created by the motel lobby entrance arch, delimiting it from my field of view. A beautiful shadow and light setting created by the street light beam on the pavement on the other side of the road reveals this man right under the street light. He is standing half in the light, half in the dark of the night, as if in the knowledge of the effect the lighting has on him. He looks like he is in his late 20s, early 30s and stares right at me, his gaze like a laser beam I can feel all the way down to my kidneys. I can't see his crazy eyes from this distance, but I can feel them and my subconscious picks up on the intent, which is not good. He seems to have waited for me to look at him him for a long time, as if he knew it would happen. A few seconds after he is made aware of my awareness of his presence, he starts in a slow clockwork motion, sliding his index finger sideways across his throat, underneath his jaw from Left to right, over and over again as the floor beneath me starts to sink and a taste of metal overwhelms the underside of my tongue. I close the curtains as quickly as if my life depends on it. I then turn my upper body away from the window toward my father and tell him what I just saw. He seems to shrug it off and talking over the baseball game on tv tells me to let it go, but I can feel, along with this calm vibe of carefreeness coming from him, a hint of uneasiness that I can pick up sharply. 30 seconds go by and I stupidly kneel uncomfortably again on the motel carpet in front of the window sill. After loudly swallowing for luck, against my best judgment, I draw the curtains out a second time. But this time my hands stop at the width of my head, allowing into view just enough of the outside world to be able to grasp at what is happening outside of my seemingly safe motel room. There he is again, only this time the man is standing two thirds of the way to where he stood the first time I saw him. His facial traits are now darkened by the lack of the street light, but I can still feel his crazy gaze. He is under the motel lobby parking lot arch. There is not much light where he stands, but I can still perceive him doing his throat slicing gesture. Now I'm starting to feel queasy and frightened. I close the curtains quickly once again and tell my dad again of the man's presence and his approaching of the room. I get on the bed, trying to concentrate on the TV to forget what I have just witnessed. I don't remember if my dad looks through the window to confirm what's happening. I remember him telling me to stop looking outside if what I see is scaring me and that we are safe in the room which is locked. After what seemed like a few minutes passing, I peek again for the last time. This time the man is right in the parking lot about 50ft from our motel room. Doing his gesture again. I start thinking that the man is probably mentally ill or something and that I just have to stop looking out the window. A clever thing to do, I tell myself. The night goes on with that feeling that even if I'm probably safe inside our room, there is this disturbed man outside the room who is missing a few cogs that want nothing good from me. He could be leaning right on the window glass a few minutes from now if this keeps going. I try not to think about it, but sleep uneasily that night. The following morning, not wanting to go outside of the room I decide to stay in with my brother while my father goes in the motel lobby to fetch orange juice, breakfast, and to speak to the motel clerk about the man outside. My father comes back after a few minutes with our breakfast and tells me that the clerk told him that the guy who frightened me the night before is known in the area for his mental illnesses. He's probably a schizophrenic is what the guy said to my father. My dad then reassures me that the clerk told him that the man is not dangerous and that we are safe staying there for another couple of nights. Luckily, I never see the man again for the duration of our stay there. Fast forward a couple of years. My father and I are reminiscing about our trip to California and especially about those days in Santa Barbara when the mentally ill man threatening me with his finger outside of our motel room is mentioned in that conversation. My father, as if relieved from not having to keep this secret anymore, lets out that the morning after that dreadful night, the motel clerk had in fact told him to be careful with that man. He had told him that he was in fact, dangerous. My dad just didn't want to scare us, telling us the truth. I thanked him for lying to me that morning and we agreed that luckily we never saw the man again during our stay there. It's.
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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, two for a question. Yeah, this is weird. I think I'm gonna go.
- [58:25]
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