← Scary Stories and Rain
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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.
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You'Ll get rid of all of the.
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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.
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Hope you enjoy this episode.
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Several years ago I was maybe 19 or 20. We lived in the state's capital. Some family friends were coming to visit us during that summer and my mom wanted to cook a particular dish for them. This dish is best served the next day as the flavors have time to develop. However, we needed chorizo sausage to make the dish, something my mom forgot about until 7pm that night. As this was in the Midwest, chorizo was hard to come by, so a quick Google search revealed a small butcher shop close to our state capitol building. Mom called and they said they had chorizo. Dad volunteered to go get it and and I agreed to go along because I was bored. We got into our nice Cadillac Escalade. This is important to note, plugged in the directions into our GPS and drove down while we were maybe 100 yards away from our state's capitol building, which is actually pretty nice. The neighborhood this butcher shop was in was not street lights wore out, windows were dark, houses had peeling paint, some were boarded up, and there were no cars in sight or anyone else around, not even walking their dogs. Something about this place gave me a weird vibe and I mentioned to my dad that we should get out of there. But we had a mission and good luck trying to convince my dad to change his mind about something. We go into this butcher shop and I don't know how in the world they managed to run without a visit from the health inspector. But holy cow, it was bad. It was hot and sticky inside and I didn't hear any humming from the display cases, meaning the cooling elements weren't working. Inside the Grimly display case are pork trotters, pig ears, pork belly, etc. And flies were buzzing. The floors hadn't been mopped or even swept in God knows how long. How do I know this? Because we are leaving shoe imprints and our shoe imprints were the only ones there as I pretended to busy myself by browsing the shelves. In reality I was scanning the store and watching the exit for trouble because I did not feel right being there. Dad asked the husband and wife manning the counter about the chorizo, to which they responded that they had just sold out of it, but they had plenty of fresh ingredients to make our own for the right price. As my dad was trying to get his way out of there, haggling and asking for directions for the closest grocery store, I noticed movement outside the smudged and smeared glass door. There were four burly looking shadows outside close to our car, which wasn't the only car out there but a beautiful Escalade with all the bells, whistles and had just been detailed. In other words, we were a giant bullseye. Thinking fast, I pretended to look at my phone. Hey dad, mom asked Luisa. And she had plenty of chorizo. I said a bit more cheerily than I intended. Before dad could ask what the heck was going on, I grabbed his arm and tugged on him. After a quick thank you, we got out of there. Fortunately the burly shapes were gone. My knees were like jello wobbling and I was still on the adrenaline high. Dad was looking at me confused. Hey, we don't even know a Louisa, he said as he unlocked the car door. I know. I just wanted to get out of there because I had a bad feeling, I admitted as we both got in, locked the doors and turned on the ignition. The car's headlights turned on and not even 10ft away were the four burly shapes. They were just standing there. They were four men, middle aged, dressed in jeans, T shirts and caps. I noticed one of them was holding a crowbar and they started walking towards us. I screamed dad, get out of here. He didn't need to be told twice. Dad gunned it and the Escalade, which is built for not only beauty but speed, accelerated. The men jumped out of the way and we took off down the road. We didn't stop until we were home. Mom was more glad we were okay than about the chorizo, especially when she learned what happened. Fortunately we were able to find some the next day at a reputable supermarket that Specialized in Latino food. Obviously. I'm so glad nothing happened, but I will always wonder what those men truly wanted. Just our car or something else In a summer between my years in college, I moved in with my old high school friends. They had a place close to their campus and college party district in our hometown. I attended school in a different city and need a place to stay while I worked over the summer. One roommate was going abroad so more or less I was subletting. The house they lived in was an older duplex in a corner lot. We lived in the bottom floor and the top floor was always vacant. The house would have been a prime frat house in its heyday. It had a large porch on one side large enough for couches and coffee tables. Could easily host 15 people on the porch alone. We spent many summer days and nights on that porch day drinking and playing music. It wasn't uncommon for us to exchange pleasantries. People walking by on the sidewalk less than 10ft from the porch. Most times people going to party would come around the corner and walk down our street to go to the bars and clubs. Friday and Saturday nights the crowds would start around 8pm going one direction. Then the traffic would reverse around 12am Mostly college aged crowd with the occasional transient bump or tweaker. Sometimes random people would ask to come up and chill for a minute. One evening in particular a man happened to walk by. I saw him come around the corner. He was older than the average college crowd, late 40s or early 50s. He sees me on the porch and I wave and say hello. He continues along the sidewalk in front of the porch. When he is closer I can tell that he looks weathered. His clothes look worn and old, hair a mess, beard and somewhat dirty like he had been working outside. He pauses for a minute. I can't remember specifically why I think he commented on the porch or the weather or something. I do remember that he asked for directions like is this the way he wants to go? I tell him he is on the right track. He makes a comment about having friends in the area then just continues on his way. I don't think anymore about it. It was a low key night mid summer. Just one of those dog days I think. My buddy and I had a few beers then decided to call it a night early, probably around 10 or 11pm which was early for us. So you understand the layout. My room is on the porch side of the house. It shares a wall with the front door and a window to the porch with a wall to divide the bedroom from the main room. My friend's room is all the way at the back of the house a good 30ft from the front door. I dozed off easily but was abruptly awakened by a slamming sound. At first I thought my friend was up having a smoke and maybe slammed the door mistakenly. Before I could make sense of it I realized it was a violent knocking on the door. Like SWAT team style knocking. Still being in a daze, I am like what the hell is going on? As the third round of knocks shake the wall. I peek from behind the curtain in my room out to the porch and can see the same guy from earlier beating on the door. He seems out of it, uneasy on his feet and obviously stirred up about something. He starts yelling to me to let him in. Nope. I dropped the curtain and reached for my piece because they are past the point of having a conversation and I am feeling like the door may not hold. I thought to myself I don't have time to call the cops because if this guy comes through the door, my room is the first stop. I go out to the living room about 10ft back from the door as the fourth barrage begins. He is telling more now sounds like he is asking someone to open the door by name. This time I responded with you got the wrong house, thinking that maybe will enrage him more or help him get a clue. The banging stops momentarily like a decision is being made. I hear shuffling but can't tell if he is leaving or just moving around. Suddenly one more loud burst of knocking. So I give him the same response, this time fully prepared to defend myself if the door swings open. It doesn't. Then silence. Then a few seconds of nothing. Then more silence. Apparently that was his last effort. I went back to the window. He was gone. Or at least I couldn't see him. Don't think I slept that night, thinking it might just be the first of the night. Fortunately, that was it. I talked to my friend in the morning. He was completely unaware. He said he thought he heard something, but nothing alarming. Goes without saying, lock your doors and always be prepared When I was in my early 20s and living in Chicago, I wasn't making much money when I found this apartment. It was too good to be true. The top floor of a duplex with six rooms for $775 a month. The agent who showed me the apartment stressed to me that the landlords were very religious. I didn't have a problem with that, even if it did sound a little ominous. The landlords were an elderly couple that lived downstairs. They seemed okay at first when I saw them in the yard, they would smile at me. They took good care of the house. When they saw I was having my boyfriend over, things started to get really weird. One day I was in my office writing. I hear a knock at the door. I open it and it's the old lady from downstairs. Before I can say hello, she says, have you ever gotten an abortion? I shut the door in her face. No, thanks. This was a colossal mistake. The house was laid out kind of weird. There was a door at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Stairs that I thought led to a communal laundry room. But after accidentally opening it once, I discovered it led directly into my landlord's living room. I unfortunately learned this the hard way. I was in my kitchen cooking. My boyfriend was at work, and I was by myself when I heard what sounded like the click of a door. Okay, I said out loud. What the hell was that? I didn't really make the connection that it could have been the door that led into their living room. I walk into the hallway and look around. I don't see anyone at the end of the hallway. I poke my head into all the rooms. Nobody there. Then I look down the staircase leading to their house and the neighbor lady is standing there staring me down. I screamed. She flinched and stepped back into her apartment and swung the door shut. After that, every time I left the house, I would come back and something would have been moved. A window would be shut. Once the shower was dripping and my towel was damp. I couldn't lock the door. Since it was technically a door to their house. They were the only ones with the key. The knocking got so frequent three or four times a day that me and my boyfriend propped up an old mattress so we wouldn't have to hear it while we slept. The second to last straw was when I opened the door for work and the stairs were gone. I physically could not leave my house because there were no stairs. They had been dismantled and were sitting on their porch. I called them repeatedly, but they didn't answer. Finally, their son came out of the house and explained that they were remodeling their porch. He told me I had to cut through their apartment downstairs. I descended the stairs and opened the door, and they were both sitting at their filthy kitchen table, staring at me. The phone was in its cradle. They must have heard it ringing. They kept staring at me with this blank look on their faces. I crossed their kitchen and left out their back door. A few days later, I came home from my job and noticed the bathroom floor was almost completely flat. Flooded. Like somebody left a faucet on or the shower on. The old woman, seeing that I had come home, came upstairs and knocked screaming at me that I had flooded the bathroom and that her son had to come fix it. I was so run down at this point that I just told her it was okay. Her son came by a few hours later. He was completely drunk. I open the door and tell him that I need an hour or so before he comes and he picks something up and swings it at me. It was a massive wrench. I somehow duck out of the way and he stumbles over. I book it down the newly repaired stairs as quickly as possible and call the police. They come by and take down a complaint but claim since there was no physical contact they can't do anything, which seemed odd to me. I learn later that the old couple has a daughter on the force. In the middle of the night, me, my boyfriend and several of his friends packed all of our stuff into a Chevy Astro. We lived in hotels and the van for a month until we found another house. They never attempted to contact us again.
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This happened about five years ago now, but it was such a traumatic experience for me that I remember most of the events in pretty vivid detail. I have PTSD from the experience still that sometimes demobilizes me when I'm home alone and I only feel feel safe in a place when I know I have something to defend myself with in every room. I lived in a small ground floor Basement apartment building briefly in college with my now ex boyfriend Ryan and another roommate Alice, who we didn't know previous to moving in. This small apartment building faced another identical one and the drive sloped down by quite a bit to the side of our building. So the front of our basement apartment was mostly below ground level, but the back was fully exposed and had a back door that opened into a wooded area that you could get to from the parking lot. The front door was inside the building and you had to go down a flight of stairs from the main front entrance to get to it. We had been living there for about a month when I was doing laundry one stormy night and strange things started to happen. The laundry room was right across the hall and I had walked back across to grab more quarters and say something to my boyfriend quickly so I hadn't closed the front door all the way. I was talking to my boyfriend when I saw the door move a little bit. I thought it was a change in the air pressure from the front door to the building being opened initially, so I kept talking but kept an eye on it. Then I watched as it opened by a few more inches. Inches. I told my boyfriend to come over and he rounded the corner just in time to see it open by several more inches. I see it, he said and ran out the door. Our front door was at the end of a pretty long hallway and the door was hung in such a way that I couldn't see who had been standing on the other side of it. Ryan came back and said that he had chased after them just in time to see white tennis shoes and a pair of but really long hairy leg going up the stairs and that it looked like they had gone out the front door of the building. But it was dark and pouring out and he couldn't find anyone. We kind of just shook it off because we lived near campus and thought some idiot had stumbled in drunk and tried to come in the wrong apartment. Two or three weeks later it stormed really badly again. This was a really janky call college apartment that only had a window AC in the living room and it was September and still really hot. So we had to sleep that night with the bedroom doors open to get some airflow from the ac. The next morning I walked into the bathroom to take a shower and saw a bunch of dead bugs in the bathtub as well as mud and what looked like a footprint. I was mad and thought that Alice had opened the little window in the shower the night before when it was raining and that the rain had just swept some Dead bugs in off the window track. I was noticing at the point that she did some weird voyeuristic things like opening the window in the shower. While she was showering, there was a line of parking spots right outside and you could see down right into the shower from a parked car with the window open and leaving her blinds open at night while she had guys in her room. Again, you could see right inside. So I made a mental note to mention it to her later. It wasn't until a few days later that Ryan and I were walking down the slope out front and noticed a twisted window screen lying on the grass right outside the bathroom window. I picked it up and my heart absolutely sank. It looked like it had been ripped out of the window. I walked inside and asked Alice about the mud in the bathtub and the footprints and the dead bugs, and she said she hadn't opened the window recently. I suddenly put two and two together and realized that someone had pulled the screen out of the window and come in that night, brushing dead bugs off the window track and leaving muddy footprints in the bathtub. And that we had been sleeping with a door open that night. We looked all around the apartment and couldn't find anything that might have been stolen. Our TV and laptops had been sitting right out in the living room and they didn't look like they had even been touched. We called the police. They came and took a statement and left. But since nothing had been taken, there wasn't much they could do. I could tell at the time they thought we were overreacting and didn't really believe that anyone had come inside. My now ex was an absolute idiot and against my urging, put a sign up on the bathroom window that said something along the lines of, we know we were broken into and are on alert and was written on a bright pink note card. We had those old windows in the apartment that slid open horizontally but didn't really lock properly. So I took a heavy stick I had found out in the woods and jammed it in place to stop the window from opening. One night we were up late playing a board game and I went to use the bathroom, saw the shadow of the stupid note on the opaque window, and went back. Alice went to use the bathroom a few minutes later and came back hysterical because the note had been ripped off. We called the police and they stopped by to take a statement and said they were going to look around the neighborhood. Since the first note had worked so well, Ryan, for reasons I can't fathom, decided to put another sign up. This time on the bright green note card. He opened the window, yelled, and slammed it shut again. I had just had time to catch a glimpse of something white right outside the window next to his face. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack because I thought it had been a face at the window. But Ryan said it had been a pair of white shoes and that they looked the same as the ones on the person who tried to come in before. He still put the sign up. Against my pleading, I called the police back and they were back within a couple of minutes looking annoyed. Apparently they had been just about to pull out of the parking lot when the call came back in from the dispatcher and they said they hadn't seen anyone out in the parking lot. I explained to them that there was enough of a slope next to the front windows that if something was standing there and there were cars parked in the parking spot spots, you wouldn't be able to see them from the street. One of them told us that he was going to wait around for a bit in his car to see if he could see any suspicious activity. It was a while later when he came back and told us that he hadn't seen anything and that he had even checked the hoods of the cars outside for warmth to see if any of them had been running recently. I asked him if he had seen anything else like this recently, and when he said no, asked him what he thought this person wanted, he said he did believe us because he could see how shaken we all were and that maybe this person was just bored and messing with us. I kept reiterating the length of time between these events and the fact that nothing had been stolen out of the apartment when they had more than likely entered the other night. He then admitted that the person could be mentally ill and had possibly developed an unhealthy obsession with one of us. He suggested some ways to improve our home security and left for the night. After he had left, we decided to stay up. We spent the night being pretty quiet, listening for sounds. I want to say it was maybe an hour later. Ryan looked over at the back door and I heard an oh, no. And I saw a piece of something bright green poking through the back door. He opened the door slightly and pulled through the green note card that had somehow been stuffed through the space between the door and the frame. We had been sitting quietly the whole time and hadn't heard the screen door open. He looked outside and didn't see anyone. I became convinced at that point that this person was having fun messing with Us. And I was pretty terrified by the fact that they hadn't been scared. Scared of the police's presence. I strongly suspected at that point that the pink note card sign was going to make its way back to us, and I wanted to catch them in the act. So we all positioned ourselves, looking at the different directions and staked the exits in the bathroom window out. It must have been another hour that passed before we finally got sick of sitting there and stood up and started talking about going to bed. Because it was almost dawn by that point. This conversation maybe went on for five to 10 minutes. And when I looked back at the front door, which I had been watching, the pink note card was laying on the floor, slipped under the door. Things escalated by quite a bit in my remaining time there. For the next month, we'd wake up to the sound of the windows getting pounded on or it would happen when we turned on the lights in a certain room. We installed a motion detector by the back door, but it never once went off for anyone other than us. The parking lot was pretty poorly lit and so was the wooded area out back. So I put the brightest bulbs I could out by the back door. I came out one morning to find the light bulbs smashed and the metal light covers missing. We eventually found them out a few feet into the woods, smashed, like someone had stomped on them. Every light bulb we put out after that got smashed. I had to walk home from work because none of us had cars and spotted the shadow of a male figure standing by the identical building across from ours. When they noticed I had spotted them, they took off running. This happened several more times to my boyfriend and roommate, where they would see the shape of someone out back and that person would take off running behind the garages or into the woods when spotted. I woke up pretty early one morning when it was still dark to work on homework and saw a light coming through the living room window like someone was trying to see through the slots on the blinds with a flashlight, which we thankfully had curtains to block. Everything came to a head one night when Ryan and I decided to run to Walmart with a friend. Alice had a really ridiculous habit of drinking while she was cleaning the apartment and leaving the back door open because she didn't like the smell of the cleaning products. I had asked her numerous times not to do this, obviously because of all the issues we had been having, so she said she wouldn't. We got to Walmart and I'm standing in the hair color aisle and I start getting all these frantic text from Alice telling me to call her. I called her and she was hysterical and said, two guys just tried to come in here, you need to come home now. The police are on their way. Apparently she had opened the door as soon as we had left, even though I had told her she absolutely needed to leave it locked and two guys had walked in through the screen door. She had apparently screamed at the top of her lungs and covered her face and when she looked up, they were gone. She was pretty drunk by that point and I strongly suspected she was also high for mixing it with her medication. The police were there by the time we got back and I watched with my heart completely sinking as the officer made disbelieving looks at her while she gave a description of the two guys. She was absolutely hysterical by that point and clearly under the influence. So she kept getting tripped up by question questions the police asked and changed her answers. What we got out of it was that they were two white guys, one taller and blonde and the other slightly shorter, but pale with dark black hair. Ryan's friend, who had been at Walmart with us, said that the description fit two guys who had walked into the restaurant that he and Ryan worked at a couple of weeks prior. He said the guys walked in, looked around and tried to see who was in the kitchen area and then left. He only remembered it because of how suspiciously they were behaving, but he didn't have a whole lot of details on them either. I moved out shortly after that. Ryan left to go to a different college. We broke up and I didn't want to stick around alone in the place where I felt like my life was constantly in danger. I also didn't want to look live with someone who wasn't going to take home security seriously and advised Alice to also move. My best guess at this point is that these two guys lived in one of the surrounding buildings because of how they were able to disappear and reappear so suddenly, but also in such spaced out intervals. It's only conjecture, but I think that because I must have personally seen alice bring around 30 guys back to the apartment in the time I lived there, one of them might have been someone she met at a bar, or someone who might have watched everything that went on in her room and developed an obsession. I can't prove any of that and it bothers me endlessly that I don't have an answer. We were never able to even get close to catching them because of the layout of the apartment building and because their attacks, quote unquote, were so random. I live in the same town still. And the sight of those woods in my old apartment building still give me goosebumps. I never got to find out who they were or what they wanted. And that bothers me to no end. It brought chills to my bones just recounting everything. And I don't think I have ever truly felt safe being home alone since this happened.