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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, you'll get rid of all of the 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 hope you enjoy this episode. Make your next move with American Express business Platinum earns 5 times Membership Rewards points on flights and prepaid hotels booked on amextravel.com and with a welcome offer of 150,000 points after you spend $20,000 on purchases on the card within your first three months of membership, your business can support to new heights. Terms apply. Learn more@americanexpress.com Business Platinum AmEx Business Platinum Built for business by American Express Hey Olivia from Ollie here to help you ease into all things back to school homework, meal prep and pickup duty piling up Goodbye. Stress gummies help you keep your cool. Start the day with kids multi and probiotic for digestive and immune system health. They'll love to take em and that makes mornings easier. When back to school gets real, Ollie helps you deal. Find these and more@ollie.com or retailers nationwide. These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease. 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 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. Wendell was a panhandler near my college. I always gave him my change when I had extra. Usually I keep a hard rule not to give money to individuals because I give it to known local charities instead, where I can be sure the money is going to a specific cause. This one panhandler, though, he always sang opera music quite beautifully. All things considered, even though it was Clear. He was begging for money due to poverty and homelessness, not busking for tips. I always thought it was admirable that he was trying to perform a service in exchange for the money. And I don't like carrying coins, so I gave what I could. It wasn't much, barely a dollar each time. I would occasionally strike up conversations with Wendell, even if I didn't have any money for him. He liked to make students laugh with funny impressions or jokes. He was a bit older. I'm an undergrad. He was probably 40s or 50s. So we would mostly have quick chats about the news or the weather or. Or whatever. Nothing deep. Sometimes he would randomly share something so intimate that I would feel obligated to reciprocate with something at least superficially personal. He would blurt out that he almost went to college on a baseball scholarship, but drugs ruined everything. I would be like, oh, wow, sorry to hear that. I play volleyball. Not for a scholarship, though. See you around. Okay. Once Wendell called me over while I was walking with a professor, my advisor and I didn't want to be rude, so I went over just to say a quick hello and introduced my advisor. When we walked away, my advisor was pretty clearly horrified and asked why Wendell knew me by name. I explained our little friendship. He said the homeless in this city weren't like the homeless in my smaller town back home. I figured he was being elitist, and I think he could tell I hadn't taken them seriously, because after we had dropped the subject, just before I left, he reiterated that I shouldn't forge friendships with the homeless population in this city or even give them money, because the chronically homeless, the ones on the streets enough that you could get to know them, tended to have criminal or addictive histories. I was surprised because my advisor is usually pretty progressive and compassionate. So I appealed to him with, wendell is a victim of a post capitalist society and all other things I had learned in his very own classes. But he wasn't having any of it, basically saying, however, Wendell became chronically homeless. Now he was, and I should act accordingly. So my professor strongly implored me not to continue even talking to Wendell at all. I kind of shook my head thinking, okay, Boomer. And if anything, felt I felt fortified by the warning, like it was a confirmation that I was a radical, doing the right thing, leading a new path, breaking down barriers, bettering society. I got closer to Wendell and shared more about my life with him. But the very next time I talked to Wendell, he was really irritable and distant and I wasn't sure why until he said, so your boyfriend? You two live together or what? And I had no idea what he was talking about. I said, what boyfriend? And he responded, the guy met from yesterday you were walking down the street with? And I laughed, explaining it wasn't my boyfriend, it was just my academic advisor. Then all of a sudden he wasn't irritable anymore. He was as chatty as he'd ever been. I probably should have taken that as a red flag, but I didn't think about Wendell much at all then. I only saw him once or twice a week, and only for a few minutes. It was around then that Wendell started bringing me gifts. I'd pass him and he would have a flower for me or a metal machine piece I never refused because I figured it was a means of preserving his dignity when accepting money. Like with the opera singing. One of my roommates did remark on the flower once and when I explained she said it was weird. I thought she was also just being elitist and that I was enlightened, bridging the class divide and superior to her neoliberal paranoia. I mean, come on, it was just a flower. My advisor clocked all this, so brought it up with me again a while later, saying he was worried I was being manipulated. I tried to tell him about Wendell's opera singing and impressions and how he even almost went to college. But then I remembered the reason he lost his baseball scholarship and I stopped short. Looking at it through that lens kind of made me reconsider the whole thing. I thought about what my professor had said. So I decided maybe I should think about distancing myself a little. But very shortly after the pandemic hit and classes went virtual. So to save on rent, I went home to my parents house, still in this state, but not near campus at all. About three weeks into being home, I was watching a friend's Insta story when I heard Wendell singing opera in the background and thought, aw, I forgot all about him. Hope he's doing alright. And that was that. I kept watching different stories later that night. Something about the story kind of stuck in my gut. It had popped into my mind a few times subconsciously and I had ignored it. But it kept coming back. So I've decided to go and watch it again. That's when I realized my friend's video wasn't from our college town. It was from my much smaller hometown, which is nowhere near my college. That freaked me out a little, but I figured everyone moved around. When the pandemic hit my town Isn't that small? It isn't that far from the college. It was probably a coincidence. I really wanted to mention it to my parents, but they had always warned me against too talking to homeless people. Besides like, can I buy you a meal? So I felt too embarrassed to explain the situation to them, especially since it was probably a coincidence and I would sound so conceited if I were. Like, he definitely followed me because aren't I just so great that he's probably obsessed with me? We have a type 1 diabetic in the family, so we took quarantining very seriously. I figured I'll never see him anyways. I'm not going out anytime soon. It doesn't matter where he is. And nothing happened. Well, one thing. A girl from my high school who also ended up at my college called me and in summary said, this is going to sound really weird, but I feel like I should say something. I was downtown and a beggar asked me about you. Like specifically you. He knew you were on club volleyball. He knew your major. I didn't tell him anything, but I thought you should know. I was pretty alarmed at first because how would he know I knew this girl? But once we talked, I learned she had been wearing a sweatshirt from our college. So I thought about it and decided he probably saw that sweatshirt, figured she might know me from college since we were both from this town and was just trying to find out how I was doing. I thought it was sweet. Also a little weird. But he was a little weird. That was part of his charm. I thanked her, but told her not to worry about it. Besides, I wasn't in town much longer anyways. I decided to go live back near campus. It was impossible to get my coursework done with my whole family around all day. So I went back to campus a while later. Didn't think about Wendell at all until I saw him back on the same corner just a week after I returned to campus. Okay. I even knew at the time that something was wrong. I stopped giving him money, stopped talking to him. But I was so humiliated by how high and mighty I had been, insisting that nothing was wrong and everyone else was being paranoid and elitist that I decided not to tell anyone what I had noticed. I was already barely leaving my apartment, never going on campus, and his usual spot was right by campus. I felt bad about potentially hurting his feelings or reading too far into the situation, but I figured he would get the message and better safe than sorry. After finals, I decided to visit my brother in a different state. His roommate had moved home leaving an extra bed. So I drove up to his place to celebrate the end of the year and get away from it all. About the ninth day in, I was woken up way earlier than usual to the sound of my brother talking at the door. I got up to see what was going on because we weren't seeing anyone. We stayed totally quarantined. His state was being hit hard. My brother was talking nicely to someone outside through a crack in the door, but when he turned he looked really pissed at me. He turned back outside and said hold on here. Closed the door despite the other guy protesting and I couldn't hear what he said exactly. My brother immediately got in my face and whisper yelling, said mom and dad are gonna kill you. I had no idea what he was talking about, but my first thought was that the cops had come to arrest me for something. It was the only logical thought I could generate first thing in the morning. The only thing I could imagine being arrested for was my fake id, which I only even used to get into concert and obviously none lately. So I was really in shock. But my brother was still going as best as I can remember because I was panicked at this point. He was saying, and I'm gonna kill you. This is so not cool. You didn't even ask. I wouldn't have said yes anyways, but you didn't even think to ask. 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So finally I was like what are you talking about? And he responded, you're dating a 40 year old guy now? Older, 45 maybe. Of all the people out there, I mean, jesus, Dad's gonna kill you. And then have a heart attack and die, which would kill Mom. And you invited him to my house while we're supposed to be social distanced, you two can go to a hotel because he isn't coming in here. I wasn't a dick to him out of respect for you, but if he doesn't leave right now, that's gonna change. So I had no idea what he was talking about. None. I hadn't connected any of the pieces yet. Because you've got to remember, Wendell was such a small part of my life until this point. I almost never saw him or thought about him. My whole world had been turned upside down by a pandemic in the preceding few months. He was background noise, faint background noise compared to all other stuff I had going on. So I just said the first thing that came to mind. Dude, I don't know why you're getting so mad at me. I don't have a boyfriend. I don't know what you're talking about. Someone's got the wrong house. My brother looked like he was ready to rip my face off. He said, we're adults. Come on. Don't lie to me. I'm not mom and dad. We can deal with this if you're going to lie to my face. And I said I wasn't lying. And I think he could tell from my expression and tone that I genuinely was serious. So now he was as confused and irritated as I was. And he said he didn't just vaguely say he was here for his girlfriend. He used your name. He rattled off a ton of very exact info. I think he said you. Yeah, he said you guys had a fight and he was here to work things out. Now, I have been looking for a boyfriend for a long time. So I was half thinking, huh, maybe dreams do come true. Might as well see who it is. But I was also starting to feel a bit sick in the pit of my stomach, because it would be one thing if this happened on campus or back home, but I had changed states. My brother moved to this state for school, but I don't know anyone here but him and his friends. So I finally did the obvious thing and looked through the peephole. I almost didn't recognize him at first because he had showered, shaved, and changed into clean clothes for the first time since I had known him. But sure as hell, it was Wendell standing on my brother's doorstep, hundreds of miles from his original corner. I was so scared, I couldn't speak. My heart was pounding like I was slipping under deep water with my legs Tied hide. I just backed away from the door and sat down on the couch and tried to collect myself. My brother thought this was my affirming that there really was some secret older boyfriend who had just made himself known, so it took a minute for him to cut off his ranting in his dramatic what will Grandma think? Stuff. Finally he realized I was tearing up and he sat down, calmed down, and apologized and said we would figure it out. And I whispered, still out of breath, no, you don't understand. He followed me here. My brother still didn't get it. What, you didn't want him to come here? What was your fight about? He asked, still thinking the guy was my boyfriend. I managed to repress my panic enough to explain the broad strokes to him, but I don't think he fully grasped how creepy it was in that moment, because he was like, you're kidding me. That's hilarious. I'll take care of this. He went to the door and called from behind it, yo, just checked. She's not here. Must have packed out this morning. You should do the same. I'm taking this social distancing real serious. And he turned and winked at me. That's when, as my brother says when he tells this story, it got real. Wendell said, you're lying. I heard her in there. Tell her I'm sorry. I don't know why she's been avoiding me, but I got cleaned up for her and I'll take her anywhere she wants to go. Tell her that. Tell her and don't lie. I'll know if you lie. That rubbed my brother the wrong way, and he responded, bro, you're not taking her anywhere. Now get off my deck before we have a problem. And Wendel sounded like he was walking away, but instead he was going over to the window. When I saw him staring, he looked different than I had ever seen him even than a few seconds earlier when I had glanced through the peephole. His clothes were clean, but they didn't fit or match. Eyes bugged out of his head, white stuff caked on the corners of his mouth. I hadn't noticed at first. Shaking, just kind of disconnected from reality. He started banging on the window, shouting things like, that's my girlfriend. You can't keep her in there. Let her out. I'm coming, baby, I'm coming. I couldn't tell if it was meant as a threat or reassurance. I was so scared. I was too scared to run or even move. I think my brother was almost as surprised by the sudden outburst. He was rolling up his sleeves like he was preparing to go out there and I was trying to make my voice work to beg him not to. But I was so anxious, scared, embarrassed and sad that I had missed all the signs leading up to this. Mint is still $15 a month for premium wireless and if you haven't made the switch yet, here are 15 reasons why you should 1. It's $15 a month. 2. Seriously, it's $15 a month. 3. No big contracts. 4. I use it. 5. My mom uses it. Are you playing me off? That's what's happening, right? Okay, give it a try. @mintmobile.com Switch upfront payment of $45 for a three month plan $15 per month equivalent required. New customer offer first three months only, then full price plan options available, taxes and fees extra. See mintmobile.com learning through play starts with Lego Duplo With Lego Duplo, toddlers can develop real life skills while having fun with colorful bricks make made just for them. Large, easy to grip and safe to explore. 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Not words, just scream and cover my ears to drown the whole situation out. Before my brother could charge out the door, Wendell punched through the window. Nothing actually happened when he punched through and there was an eerie moment of silence where nobody moved. I think even I stopped screaming. But when he pulled his hand back, all hell broke loose. A fair amount of blood started spurting out when he pulled his hand back through the glass. The things he was shouting started to make even less sense along the lines of look what you did to me. This is a test. I told you I couldn't be stopped and the look in his eyes got even more distant. I think the sight of the blood, which has always made my brother really squeamish, made him realize that this was real. And he finally yelled, Damn it, sis, call 91 1, while he leaned against the door, which Wendell was now repeatedly running into, even though he was nowhere close to breaking it down. I don't even remember making the call, but apparently I did, because within 10 minutes, the police arrested Wendell without resistance. He kept trying to tell them his girlfriend was trapped in the house and he had come all, all this way to save her. My poor brother was even momentarily handcuffed and had to explain he hadn't taken me hostage. Probably one of the most haunting memories of the whole event is as they carted Wendell away for a rest. He started singing opera music. I just want to start off by saying. Saying that to make this story easier to understand, I'm going to use a lot of dialogue. Obviously this wasn't recorded, so these aren't the exact words of anyone involved in this experience. I'm just trying to tell it as best as possible and I think it'll benefit me and you if I use a lot of quotes. Just keep in mind most of it is not direct. This will be a long one, so let's just get into it. This happened in 2015 when I was 16 and still living in my hometown. A forgotten little beach town in the middle of nowhere that's so remote it's probably not even known by surrounding areas. Basically, there's three things you can do there as a go to the movies, swim, or go to this pathetic little place called Miller's Fun Park. It's relatively similar to a lot of Fun park type things, only a whole lot worse. There's a crappy arcade with broken skeeball machines, batting cages that probably haven't been used since the early 80s, a pathetic mini golf course, and the most dangerous go karts you've probably ever seen in your life. Seriously, Miller's Fun park is on the edge of a field. On the opposite side of the field, about three miles down is the beach and across the single street are woods. If our town is in the middle of nowhere, Miller's is practically on the moon. Anyway, getting into the story, my cousin Emma and I decided one summer night that we wanted to go go karting. It was around 10pm so we knew it would be almost deserted, but that was the way we liked it. I picked her up from her house and we made the long drive down. Once we had arrived and parked in the nearby empty lots. We hopped out of the car and paid for some go karting tickets. The same people had worked there forever. I swear there was no one there except for a few boys in the arcade and a guy who looked to be in his 60s sitting on a bench near the batting cages. Emma and I paid him no mind and went to the go kart track. Like I said, these carts were incredibly dangerous, so I was focused on nothing but making sure I wasn't going to skid and flip as we raced way too fast around the windy track. This is why I didn't notice the guy walking over to the fence and why I didn't notice him watching us until we pulled into the lanes after our last lap. He was standing on the other side of the fence, right where I was parked. He stared at me with this most unsettling expression, a creepy smile playing on his cracked lips as his dark eyes gleamed. I managed an uneasy smile back, handed another ticket to the guy running the go karts, who was obviously higher than a kite, and Emma and I went off again. This time I couldn't focus. The dude gave me the worst type of feeling. My eyes were constantly finding their way to the metal fence where he stood unmoving and watching us every time we were in his view. And the thing that was bothering me the most was we had only bought three tickets. We were on our second to last route run and he was standing directly next to the exit gate. I was just praying he would move before we were done, but of course, no such luck. Our last go came and went and I had no choice but to pull in next to him, unbuckle my seat belt, and get out of my go kart. I glanced over at Emma a few feet away as I opened the exit gate to see if she was as scared as I was. But she didn't seem to notice as she bounced over and bragged about she had beat me the last two times. I was barely listening. I opened the gate and the guy stepped in front of me just as I was leaving. Hey there, he said. His voice was dry and he smelled of cigarettes. What are you cute girls doing all alone here? My eyes darted over to Emma, who was looking at the dude with both confusion and annoyance. Uh, what? She said, pushing past the gate so she stood beside me. It's so late. His tone was as hungry as his eyes, and he reminded me of a snake. Do your parents know you're out? Yes, I answered quickly. They're waiting for us. Actually, we need to get going this was a lie and probably sounded like it from my tone, but I tried to push past him anyway. It didn't work. He grabbed my shoulder to keep me in front of him. Nonsense. I saw you girls pull up alone. My heart dropped to my stomach. He had Are you heading out? Why don't I walk you to your car? He starts inching towards me and I looked to Emma for help. With one swift movement, she pulled me halfway behind her and started sizing the guy up. This was probably pretty dumb as we're both small and though she's a few inches taller than me, neither of us are anywhere near his size. This guy clears six two easy, but she doesn't seem to care. Actually, we were just headed to the arcade, she says harshly. Her boyfriend is going to meet us there. I did have a boyfriend at the time, but he wasn't coming. He wasn't even in town. I knew she knew this. The guy's face immediately changes. His smile disappeared and he was now glaring down at me with a look of annoyance in his eyes. I felt myself start to cower. Boyfriend? He says roughly. Emma didn't give me time to say anything. She grabbed my arm and tugged me behind her into the arcade. The boys from before had already left and the usual girl who worked in there was was nowhere to be found. Still, it felt safer than outside. We ran to the back and hid behind the claw machine. What the hell do we do? I left my phone in my car. I whisper shouted. There was no way I was going out there alone and the pothead Go Kart guy had already disappeared into the small ticket shack. I don't have mine either. I left it charging, she said, face palming. We're just gonna have to make a run for it. Are you crazy? He's probably waiting for us in the parking lot. What about the guy who runs the go karts? We could get him to walk us out, she said. I just shook my head. He's as high as Mount Everest right now. I don't want to risk running all the way to the ticket stand for nothing. Then we have no choice. She stood up, holding me with her. Let's go. I swallowed hard, hard, wanting to cry. I had never been that scared before. There was something so wrong about that guy. We made our way out of the arcade, looking around to see if he's nearby. The park was now absolutely deserted. Emma practically had to drag me to the exit. I was looking every direction every second, waiting for the guy to come out of the woods or something and pounce on us at any second, but he didn't. Everything was still get your keys out, emma instructed, and I pulled them from my pocket. We were about 20ft from my car when I stopped dead in my tracks. What? She whispered. I stared at the car, keys in hand. I had never locked it. I never locked the car. Emma. What? I didn't lock it. What if I trailed off, but she knew what I was saying. She started inching towards the car and I grabbed her arm to stop her, but she pulled away. I'm just going to peek. If I say run, you run. Her voice is quiet. I nodded shakily. She eventually made it close enough to see inside, but by the way she was squinting I knew it was too dark to make anything out. My heart was beating out of my chest. What if he's in there? What if he jumps out? Or what if we get in and he asphyxiates me like in the movies? All these thoughts almost drown out the unmistakable sound of shoes slamming against the pavement. My head whipped around instantly and there he was, sprinting at us at full speed out of the woods. I screamed bloody murder and broke for the car, jiggling the handle as I realize I had locked it. Emma was already on the other side, screaming at me to unlock the door. I fumbled with the keys but managed not to drop them as I unlocked the door, flung it open and practically threw myself inside. I had just managed to close the door when he was there, slamming his fists against the window and shouting incoherently. I was sobbing at this point and barely managed to lock the doors as he goes for the handle and yanks on it as hard as he can. Emma was screaming at me to go, and through my tears I shoved the key into the ignition and flew into reverse. He was still chasing us and yelling as I veered backwards out of the lot and turned as fast as I could while slamming on the gas. I was driving like I was still in a go kart, but I didn't care. I could barely see the road through the flood of tears and Emma had to grab the wheel slowly several times to keep us from crashing before I regained some composure. Though obviously shaken up, she had managed to keep her tears in and be the sane one out of the two of us as we drove at least 30 miles over the speed limit the whole way back to my house. We didn't tell either of our parents about this, and looking back, I wish we had because there was something seriously wrong with that guy, but we were too scared of what they might say or do I think we thought they would blame us somehow? So it stayed a secret between us, something even we didn't talk about until months after the horrifying encounter. Safe to say we never went back to Miller's Fun park after that. I urge you all to be extremely careful when going out at night. 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