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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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Now to start this off I'm a 29 year old man and 3 times a year I head up to the Georgia mountains to camp Fish and have a great time. But after the last trip I doubt I will ever go again. I had been super excited the week before I was to head up to Georgia and when the day finally came I could have died with happiness. I loaded up my dog buddy and all my gear and started the trip. About an hour into my trip I saw a road that I have never seen before. I decided I would take an hour to look around and go back to the main road. I lost track of time and before I knew it the sun was setting. I grabbed my gear and my Buddy and we hiked about 10 minutes before finding a nice clearing in the forest. I set up camp and looked around. I saw a small man made trail leading into the dark trees and decided that me and my dog needed a walk. I grabbed my walking stick, Buddy's leash and a headlamp and we headed onto the trail. I knew something was wrong when I couldn't hear a single insect or animal. My dog and I stopped at a little creek and that's when I saw something terrifying. Two eyes reflecting from my headlamp. This person was really tall. Looked to be about 7ft. My dog is usually very protective of me, but instead of barking, he whimpered and peed on my leg. I have never seen him act like this before. He has seen bears before and has scared mountain lions away, but he has never gotten scared like this. As Buddy kept whimpering, I felt terrible. Like this person hated me and they could rip me to pieces if they wanted to. Then they made the scariest noise I have ever heard. Imagine a maniac screaming. My dog and I bolted back to our camp. When we got back, I could still hear it. Needless to say, we changed our mind about staying there. I packed up the camp as my dog stood watch. We ran to my truck and got out of there. I went straight home and canceled this camping trip. That whole night while I laid in bed, I could not get that scream out of my head. This happened a long time ago, about 40 years ago. So this was back before cell phones or Google Maps or debit cards or any of the traveling conveniences of today's world. So when you traveled by car, you were at the mercy of printed road maps, phone booths, if you needed to make a phone call and whatever cash you had on you before you started your trip. I am a 60 year old female and this is what happened when I was about 18 years old. My sister Mandy, who was a few years older than me, and one of her friends, Jane and I decided to take a road trip from Dallas to Houston to attend a Bruce Springsteen concert. Jane knew one of the roadies, so we were going to get backstage passes and we were going to actually get to meet Bruce Springsteen. We were so excited we decided to drive to Houston on the Friday night before the Saturday concert and we were going to stay in a cheap motel for the weekend. We were young and broke, but this was Bruce Springsteen. So worth the cost of the motel. We wanted to be rested and already there to get to the concert early and possibly see the band before the show. And we also did not want to have to drive back after the concert as we would be out late, hopefully in our crazed minds partying with Bruce and the E Street Band. We were in Jane's car for the trip. She had recently gotten a new car. Plus hers was the only car of the three of us that was in good enough condition to make the trip. Mandy and I always had rat traps for cars back then. So we started off at around 7pm that Friday night and we were in very high spirits. What a weekend this was going to be. We were jamming and laughing and having us a good old road trip. About two hours into the trip, which was halfway there, we heard loud knocking noises coming from the car engine. We immediately turned down the music and strained to try and figure out just what the heck the noises were. Then all of a sudden we heard a loud bang and the car engine died. We were freaking out as we had been tooling down the highway at 60 miles per hour and then it just stopped. Thankfully the roads were empty and there were no cars behind us, so Jane was able to just pull off to the side of the highway as the car was losing momentum. We all got out of the car on the passenger side next to the woods. Jane popped open the hood, but it's not like any of us would have known what to do anyway. It's just something you do right. The engine was smoking and it smelled horrible. Bad oil smell. We had no idea what to do here we were, three young girls on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere I might add, and we had no way to get help unless it was offered by a stranger. We knew that we were too far from the exit behind us. We had not seen an exit for quite a while and we had no idea how far it was to the next exit. Too far to walk anywhere, more than likely. Not that it would have been safe to walk on the side of the highway anyway. And since we were in the middle of nowhere and it was pitch black by this time, there were no lights on the highway and there were no buildings or towns around to provide light either. And we only saw very few cars on the highway in either direction. We were so screwed and so scared and we had to figure out just what the heck we were going to do. Mandy and I were also upset about probably missing the concert, but Jane was just concerned about her car. She had finally gotten a new car after all the lemons she had in the past, and now she was afraid that it was dead, possibly for good. We just sat in the car for a long time, trying to figure out what to do. A while later, as we were still freaking out and scared, but had not yet come up with a plan, a car pulled up behind us. We all just froze because we had no idea who it was or what their intentions were. As we all stared out the back window with deer in the headlight looks on our faces, a man, probably early 20s, started walking up to our car. You would think that after the breakdown, we would have discussed what to do if someone stopped to help us. But apparently we were not that bright because we had no plan for this. The man walked up to the car window and asked what the problem was and if we needed help. We all just looked at each other and then, as if we all came to the same conclusion together without speaking, knowing that we really had no other choice, James cracked the window just a little bit and explained the situation. He said he could drive us to the nearest town, which was about 15 miles ahead, he said, so we could use a phone. The only plan we had come up with before this stranger walked up was that if we did get to a phone, Jane would have to call her father. Not only because it was her car and she would need his help dealing with it. But we really had no one else to call. Our other friends were as broke as we were and had cars as unreliable as ours were, so no point in asking any of them to help. And mine and Mandy's parents lived too far away to be able to help in this situation. So while we knew we needed to get to a phone, we had no idea if this guy could be trusted. We asked him to give us a moment. Then we would start discussing our impossible options. The smartest thing would have been for all three of us to go with this guy. Power and numbers. But Jane absolutely refused to leave her car alone on the side of the road. So she insisted that one of us had to stay there. She would not budge on this. Not sure why she thought that car was more important than our lives, but she would not change her mind. And since it was completely insane to send one of us off with a stranger, the only solution was that one of us had to stay with the car and two had to go with this guy. Since it was Jane's father that needed to be called, she had to go make the phone call. Mandy offered to stay with the car, so I would go with Jane. We were all terrified as we knew that he could kill us both and we would never be found. And that if another person stopped by the car, Mandy would be alone, so would have no way to defend herself of a dangerous predator Person approached her. We hugged and said a scared and teary goodbye. And Jane and I walked to the stranger's car knowing that this could be the last time we see each other. Now, I know some of you may be saying things like why didn't Mandy get the guy's license plate number? Or ask to see his driver's license or even ask for his name, but we never even thought about that. Yeah, that would have been the smart thing to do because if he knew she had that information, he might be less likely to harm us. Or if he had refused to give that information, then we would have known he was not on the level. Of course, now that I think about it, he could have still killed us and gone back to do the same to Mandy. So giving her his information wouldn't have been any help in saving any of us. But I digress. We didn't do any of that. So Jane and I got into the stranger's car and just prayed that he was a decent guy. Since Jane was older, she sat up front with a stranger and I got into the back seat. Jane was pretty street smart, so I was comforted a bit by the fact that I knew she would put up a hell of a fight if need be. But as it turned out, he was a decent guy. He actually did drive us to the small town just as he said he would. And I do mean a small town. All we could see was a small old motel next to a small diner. But there was a police car parked at the diner. So he let us out, knowing that we were in good hands. Or so we thought. We thanked him profusely and off he went. So Jane and I went inside the diner and she used the public payphone to call her father. She was hoping that he would come rescue us and her car that night, but her father said no way. He told her that we would just have to spend the night there at that motel and he would come in the morning to pick us up and get her car. He was not about to make a two hour drive at almost 11pm to come get us that night. He assured her that it was okay to leave her car on the side of the highway overnight. There was no way around that unless we were going to sleep in the car, which he strictly forbade her to do. Of course, she was too old to be Told what to do by her father, but she knew if we did that and he found out, there would be hell to pay. He would be pissed and he might not help her with the car, so she was just going to have to let her car stay there by itself overnight. Next, we spoke to the policeman. We were concerned about my sister alone in the car and asked if he would take us to go get her, bring her back to the diner. He was very nice, had a long Texan drawl when he spoke and said, sure, let's go. The policeman made a few calls on his car radio, not sure to who, as it was hard to hear, and they were not speaking very loudly, as if he didn't want us to hear. But I was hoping it was about the car and my sister. So Jane and I got into the back of the police car. We were finally so relieved and just thanked our lucky stars that we were safe. Although we were still concerned about Mandy, as we had no idea if she was okay or not. Just a few minutes into the trip, the policeman was telling us that there is a serial rapist on the loose in the area. What an odd topic of conversation, especially to two young girls that are already upset about the car and my sister all alone. We have absolutely no idea why he told us that. We just stole a worried glance at each other and we were beginning to wonder if this cop was actually the nice man that he appeared to be at first. And here we were in a car that had doors with no means of exit. We were starting to get a bit nervous. All of a sudden, his police radio cracked and. And came to life. And apparently there was a crime in progress that the policeman needed to get to immediately. So, and I kid you not, he stopped the car right where we were, out in the middle of nowhere, and said that we had to get out now, he had to go and he could not take us with him. He said that he would come back to pick us up or send someone as soon as he could. Are you kidding me? We looked around and there was absolutely nothing there except a dark building with a newspaper stand in front of it. Other than that, just pitch blackness, dark roads and forest as far as we could see. We thought surely he must be joking at first, but he was not. His demeanor had changed. He was no longer the nice, friendly policeman with the slow southern drawl that we had met just moments ago. He got mean and nasty and demanded that we get out of the car immediately. We were in tears, asking him to please not leave us out there alone. What about the rapist. He said we should just go stand near the building and someone would come to our aid as soon as they could. He assured us we would be fine. So with no other choice, we got out of the car. Then he sped off, 90 to nothing. It was pitch black, it was getting cold and we were terrified. So we huddled next to the building behind the newspaper stand, trying to be unseen and to get out of the wind. We could not believe that a policeman just did this to us. The thought had occurred to us both that the call he received might have possibly been about Mandy and that is why he didn't want us to be with them so great. Not only were we cold and scared and possibly about to be attacked and raped by the mad rapist, but now we were afraid that something bad had possibly happened to Mandy. About 15 minutes later, a semi truck hauling wood or something on a long flatbed behind his truck stopped directly in front of the building that we were crouched beside. We were terrified as while he seemed to be fiddling with the load on the back of his truck, so actually might have had a legitimate reason to get off the highway and park here. He kept looking over in our direction and we knew he must have seen us. We thought we were about to be attacked by a maniac truck driver or the rapist at large. We were hoping he would just drive away, but then he started walking toward us. We thought, this is it. We are going to be killed by some madman rapist in some unnamed small town in the middle of nowhere and we will never be seen again. We cursed that stupid police officer and huddled together in fear. But as the man got closer, he yelled to us. Are you the girls with the sister on the side of the road and the broken down car? We were so confused. How in the world would he know that? We looked at each other and whispered that perhaps he killed killed her, Found out from her that we had come here and now he has come to kill us. Or perhaps the police officer was in cahoots with this madman and sent him to us, which is how he knew we were here. We were at his mercy and we were looking around to see if there was anything we could use as a weapon if he tried to take us. Then the truck driver, seeing that we were scared and backing away, explained that he had heard on the CB radio that the policeman placed a call out to see if there was anyone traveling this way that could pick Mandy up and bring her to the diner. He also heard that there were two scared young ladies here that also Needed a ride back to the diner. He heard the calls but was traveling in the opposite direction, so could not help with Mandy, but was passing by this exit, so figured he would help us. So we hesitantly got into his truck as his story sounded plain plausible. But then again, the more we thought about it, the more we wondered why a policeman would tell the entire truck driving world about three young girls in distress. That's just a shout out to any sicko that we were ripe for the taking. Didn't seem like a smart thing for a police officer to have done. When he said he would send someone to pick us up, we assumed he meant another police officer. Guess small town folks may have good heart parts, but doesn't seem like they use their brains to the fullest extent possible. When I think about the thousands of ways this could have ended if the wrong person showed up on all of those incidents, it makes me shudder. As it turned out, the truck driver did not kill us or harm us. He actually drove us back to the diner and another truck driver stopped and picked up Mandy. Mandy, of course, had no idea what Jane and I had been doing once we left her with that stranger. For all she knew, that guy could have done who knows what with us. And I felt bad that she had been alone. At least I had Jane with me. She was terrified that someone else was going to stop and that she might be in danger. There were not that many cars on the highway on that dark, lonely night. At one point, she saw a semi truck pull over to the side of the road going in the opposite direction. She didn't think that much about it since it was on the other side. Trucks and cars stop all the time for various reasons. But when she saw the truck driver get out of his truck and walk across the highway straight toward her, at that point she was really frightened. Why would he be doing that? She had no idea that a call had gone out on the CB radios. She started to shrink down in her seat, hoping that he would think no one was in the car. But he kept coming. When he was finally at her window, she had something in her hand for a weapon. I think it was a hairbrush or something just as useless. And she just very slightly cracked the window so she could hear what he was saying. He asked if she was Mandy. What? She was so confused as to how he knew her name. Crazy thoughts went through her head in just a few seconds. Did that stranger we went with have a crazed buddy who was now coming to harm her? The truck driver explained how the policeman had put a call out on the CB radio asking for help. He was going the opposite direction, but stopped and came over to make sure she was safe and to wait while another truck driver buddy headed in the right direction and would pick her up shortly after and take her to the diner to meet up with us. She wasn't 100% sure that this was on the up and up, but since he seemed okay and the story sounded somewhat reasonable and he hadn't asked her to open the door or anything like that and stood far enough away that she felt safe, she decided to trust that what he was saying was the truth. Sure enough, about five minutes later, another trucker pulled over. They chatted and then he said he would take Mandy to the diner. So up she gets into the truck, just like us on our few occasions, getting into vehicles with strangers praying that he was not going to kill her, and off they go up the road toward the next exit. We were four for four that night. This trucker did indeed drive her to the diner where we all hugged and cried and were so thankful for the kindness of these small town strangers. At that point we were just tired and hungry and ready to get this horrible night over with. The diner food was horrid and unlike the nice truck drivers, the patrons and waitresses did not seem overwhelmed with us and were rather snippy and rude to us. But we just ate and then headed to that creepy little motel next door. The night clerk was just like you would expect at a spooky little hotel next to a dark highway and even darker wood behind it. He was Solen and acted like we were bothering him. We asked for a room with double beds. He gave us a key to a room but the key would not work so we had to trudge back to the front of the motel. All three of us went together. We were not splitting up or leaving anyone alone anymore that night and he was not very happy with us at all. He gave us another key to the room and after a bit of working we finally got the door open. There was only one double bed, so back to the front of the motel we go. We politely reminded him that we needed two double beds. There were three of us after all. He acted like he was just so exasperated with us he begrudgingly handed us the key to another room. We trek on back down to the room which of course was room 13. I know he did that on purpose. We opened the door again with a tricky lock and of course there is only one double bed. Wow. We went back again because now we were pissed. We need two double beds please. And he said in his surly manner we don't have any rooms with double beds available. He said there was a fold up cot in the closet. Closet nice. We were just too tired to even worry about it. So we made our way back into room 13 and just wanted to get some sleep and lament about how we were not going to get to that concert. But we started looking around and realized that this room was so nasty and we saw some roaches. We just laid on top of the bed and caught in our clothes and prayed for this night to be over and for mourning and our sanity to come. Jane's father did arrive early the next morning. He called a tow truck. He took us home and we were so happy to never see that ho dunk town ever again. And in case you were wondering, no, we never did make it to Houston for the concert. Really bummed about that and the cause of the engine mishap. Apparently Jane's brother had failed build up the oil in her car before we started on our trip and was haphazard about the whole thing. Got oil all over the engine thus it heated and caught fire. I imagine engines are made differently these days so things like this don't happen. But back then her brother's laziness could have cost us everything. We just felt lucky to have made it out alive. This story takes place in the summer of 2017. For reference, my friend and I were young teenage girls at the time. We were hanging out one night and we decided to go on a walk around the pond that was not too far away from my house. It was, as some would say, pitch black outside, although there was some dull light due to the periodically placed street lights. We left my house and began walking up the street in the darkness. All was fine and we quickly made it to the pond without any issues. We ended up stopping at one end of the pond to take a break on a bench. This bench happened to be right under a light, so if anyone were also at the pond they could see us as we were illuminated by the light, but we could not directly see anyone else. We talked for a little while as we moved out onto the dimly lit pond and after a few minutes I noticed some movement off in the distance. It appeared to be a group of silhouettes approaching us. I am pretty aware of the dangers that exist in the world and I am quite the paranoid person. This being said, I quickly alerted my friend to the presence of what I assumed was a group of people swiftly coming our way. It should be noted that we were not in the best of areas and there were usually suspicious activities that took place at night. We debated for a short moment about what we should do. The first option was to keep sitting on the bench and assume that they were harmless individuals who wouldn't say or do anything to us. And the other option was to take no chances with these strangers who had us outnumbered and make a run for it back to my house. We quickly chose the latter and got back on our feet. We started off with a speed walk, but as I kept looking back to check on the mysterious group of people approaching us, I realized that they too were picking up speed. This is when my fear truly kicked in and my friend and I began to fly full on run. I regularly looked back at the group as we continued to run and I noticed that they began closing the distance between us. We still could not make out any features of the people due to the lack of lighting, so we were just blindly running from these mysterious people. I eventually arrived at my house and hid in my yard while waiting for my friend who is much shorter and not the fastest runner. She made it back a short while after me and we went inside making sure to lock the doors behind us when we were discussing it after the fact, she said that when she was running she wasn't looking back to check on them, so we don't actually know if they attempted to follow us the whole way home or miraculously gave up. We honestly don't even know what happened. If these people meant no harm, they were certainly not doing the best at showing that. But if they were indeed evil doers of some kind, well then I am glad that we dashed away when we did.
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Prices and participation may var this happened when I was 15 in early 2018. I was young and stupid, so don't blame me for the mistakes and choices I made. When I first met him, I honestly didn't think we were related at all. All of my family has light tan, dark brown eyes and the same sharp nose. In all honesty, I couldn't believe he was my aunt's son. He was pat pale, so pale that he looked ghostly. His eyes were sunken from obvious lack of sleep, and he was heavier than most kids our age. His hair was black and he was an inch taller than me, and in sharp contrast to his mother, he was mean, cold and cunning. Over the next year, he would constantly threaten me and especially threaten my brother out of spite and hate. If I'm being serious, he had always given me major sketch vibes. His humor was twisted and dark. Humor is funny, don't get me wrong, but his jokes were just flat out disgusting. I tried to avoid him when I could, but it proved futile every time since he knew I would not put up with his bs. You're all bite, he told me Once I almost punched him in the face then. Pity that I didn't. One day we were walking in the park alone and we were just talking about school. Normally I would avoid him altogether, but I decided to play nice since I didn't want my tia to get upset that I didn't like her son. I tried to seem interested in what he was saying, but it was hard, especially considering the amount of things I could have been doing instead. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, he says to me, I could kill you, you know. I spun my head around to look at him. He was staring right into me, his charcoal eyes digging holes in my head. What did you just say to me? I asked, squaring my chest, preparing for a scuffle. I didn't care if my aunt yelled at me. I wanted to put this kid in his place. Nothing, he said, and he turned to start talking to his mom. Rightfully so. I avoided him even more now, ever the more cautious of not being alone with him until one specific day when he was accompanying me and his sister to a barbeque next to a river. I knew I hated the idea of him coming with us. He knew I hated him and made it his goal to annoy Me while we were there. There he talked constantly, never being quiet for more than two minutes. He purposely dropped my burger when bringing it to me. And when he jumped out of the water, he shook his head like a dog getting water all over me. I tried so hard to just try and have a good time, but it was hard when he was so hell bent on annoying me. Then he sat next to me. I kept talking to his sister, trying not to meet his gaze. Then he leaned in and repeated what he said the other day. I could kill you, you know. I stood up and walked into the woods, telling them both that I was going on a walk. After marching my way far enough into the woods, I sat down next to some brush and I just sat and calmed down for around 10 minutes before I heard someone trudging towards me. I knew it was a human. The struggling of walking over the rough terrain and the heavy footsteps clued me into who it was. I was in the middle of turning, going to say something to him, but I see a long knife, the same one we had been cutting the meat with. I jump as fast as I can into the brush, covering myself in the leaves and dirt, suddenly grateful for my father's lessons of the outdoors. Harsh as they were, I am by no means religious. But when I see his face and the smile he has plastered on, I start to pray to any God I can think of. He doesn't say anything, doesn't call out to me. Nothing. The overwhelming urge to vomit consumes me and adrenaline begins to pump through my body. I inhale deeply, trying my hardest, hardest to keep calm. But I hear something. Someone breathing behind me. I make a break for it. I try to scream, but he's bigger than me by a ton and way heavier. He cups his hand over my mouth and holds the knife to a weak point in my back. The same point he had slammed something into me when we were kids. He knew how much I hated anything touching that spot. So he drags the knife down my back, beginning to laugh with all the courage I have ever had in my life. I bite into his hand so hard I taste blood. He screams, but he doesn't let his arm drop from around me. I position my arm just enough so the knife wouldn't hit so deeply, and I slam my elbow into his nose, his knife digging into my shoulder. Now I scream bloody murder. And he lets go to try and stem the blood from his nose, which, to my amusement, I later found out was broken. Clutching my shoulder, I ran as fast as I could back to my other cousin. Who had come looking for us. Seeing as we had been gone for almost 15 minutes at that point, I can only imagine what a sight that would have been. A knife basically falling out of my shoulder and her brother following behind me with a bloodied crooked nose and a bleeding hand. Upon seeing the knife, she rushed over to me. In a couple of seconds she realized what had happened. We booked it to the car, locked the doors and proceeded to call the police. The funniest part to me is that he had tried to flee. The fool. The cops found him after 10 minutes and arrested him outright. I gave my statement and filed for a restraining order. To cut an already long story story short, he got seven years of aggravated assault and me and his sister testified against him. His mom won't accept what he has done and believes that we, we being his sister and I were screwing around with dangerous people and I got stabbed. Because of this incident, a considerable amount of my family doesn't like me. The only thing I can say is Josh, if you're reading this, you better hope we never meet again. One night when I was around 7 or 8, I had a very strange nightmare. At that age I was a latchkey kid, which means when I got home from school I was there alone for about an hour or two until my parents or older siblings got home. I loved the the house I grew up in. It was awesome, but dang it, it could be creepy at times. It was not that well made to begin with and my parents built most of the added on rooms themselves. It was a large two story house that sat on an acre of land, but it was not in the best part of town as it sat on the outskirts of a quickly growing city. I tell you this because in my dream I had just got home from school like normal. I locked the locks we had on the door and went to put my backpack in my room. Only after I turned around from locking the door, I stopped. I felt something was different. I felt there was someone here, someone in the house. Worse, I knew they were watching me. Even though it's over 20 years since I had the dream, I recall very clearly still standing still and trying to listen for any odd sounds. Trying to listen for footsteps or breathing or anything that would be out of place. But all I heard was the creaks and groans of the house. Very scared, I started to tiptoe about. This was before there were cell phones and there were not any neighbors that I knew well enough that I could go to at least any that would be home. And at that age I Don't think I knew my mom's phone number, let alone one of my parents work numbers. The only thing I could think to do is if I saw someone in the house, I would run outside and keep running until a grown up helped me. So I went upstairs slowly and quietly, poking my head just above the stairwell to see if there was anyone there. But no. No one was there. But the feeling of being watched continued. I looked at each room upstairs, knowing that whoever it was was watching me. As strange as it sounds, doing this made him feel even closer. It made me visualize in my head a dark outline of a man that was here with me. After checking every room, I traveled back downstairs. At this point I was so scared that I almost was in tears. Then I saw that dark outline in the corner of my eye. In reaction, I turned to look at it, but when I did, there was nothing there. I even did a360 thinking that he must have moved, but there was no one there. Then I saw it again out of the corner of my eye, but this time on the other side. Once again I turned to look, but there was nothing there. Now, at that age, I was a kid, a true kid that got scared, played with Ninja Turtles and watched Ghostbusters. I wasn't psychic, nor did I talk to ghosts or anything like that. So when I kept seeing that dark shape out of the corner of my eye repeatedly, I did the only thing I could think to do in my scared state. Run. When I entered the living room, I somehow knew it was behind me. Not sure why I knew it was there as I don't remember feeling heat or hearing breathing, but I knew it was there. So I took off running. Being a stupid kid, I didn't think to run towards the right side of the room, which would lead to the back of the house where the back door was. But I ran towards the left side of the room because it led to the closest room that I knew had a lock, which was the downstairs bathroom. I ran as fast as I could, feeling that figure behind me inches away. I ran into the small hallway in which the bathroom was at the end. As I ran, the darkness was sort of overtaking me. Now that I'm older, I can relate it to how a butterfly net is when you swing it in to grab a butterfly. It was overtaking me as I ran and I could see it at both sides. This whole, the whole bit would have lasted maybe three or four seconds total, but to me it was slowed down. Just as I ran inside the bathroom and passed the door Frame hands grabbed my neck. Strong cold hands wrapped around my neck. Instantly, I went cold and everything stopped. Everything went black. This is when I woke up. When I woke up, I struggled, screamed. Not because I just had the worst nightmare of my life, but because someone was holding me tight. My mother was sitting on my bed, having grabbed me in a hug and was rocking me back and forth. Now, I know this may sound creepy, but it wasn't. She was scared and crying. Here's what truly makes this memory creepy. She had a nightmare too. In hers, she felt that a dark, unknown figure wanted to do her harm. And so in her nightmare, she dreamed that she awoke to do her normal morning routine. Since she woke up at four in the morning for work, she would often go about her routine in the dark to not wake my father. She went to the bathroom, but when entered, she felt something tap against her left shoulder right past the door. It actually happened a few times. Confused by this, as she wasn't fully awake and it was pitch black, she turned on the light. That's when she saw me, dead, hanging from a noose at the same location that I felt the thing grab me in my nightmare. It was there that she knew that the dark figure did the worst possible thing it could to her, which was to kill me. That nightmare nightmare shook her badly. So bad, in fact, that she rushed to my room in the middle of the night and held me, thankful that I was alive. She described it in the same way that I did, that it was the most realistic dream she ever had. Neither of us went back to bed that night. Instead, we had graham crackers and milk to try and wash the nightmares away. Then we turned on the radio and played it softly, not to wake anyone. And most of all, we kept all the lights on in the kitchen. Years later, I have no clue why this happened, nor do I have any explanation. And as to what or who the dark figure was, I don't know. Never felt it before or after. The house I grew up could be very creepy at times, but there was a lot of love there as we were a large, happy family. So it wasn't like it was filled with doom and gloom. I did experience a few weird and scary things over the years that I can't really explain, but by no means could say it was haunted. Over the years, I have had a few conversations with my mom about that night, as she is by far the kindest person I have ever known. I fully believe her when she said that she doesn't know what it could have been. It could have been just a billion and one chance that we both happened to have had a similar nightmare on the same night. But in my heart, that doesn't feel right. That figure was real. To this day, anytime I see something in the corner of my eye, I get a tinge of fear from that nightmare. It's a horrible feeling too. Makes me feel like a scared little kid again, standing in that house and knowing that figure is watching me.
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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 Fresh out of college in 2010, I purchased my first home for me and my young son. The woman who lived there before me died of heart failure in her 50s. Soon after moving in, we found a stray skinny puppy who had a horrible skin infection and just needed a lot of love and care. We took him in, named him Crypto, and nursed him back to health. He was a great dog, so protecting and adventurous, but incredibly loving and sweet to everyone. Krypto had continued medical issues all throughout his two short, nearly eight years of life, from severe cases of unexplained hives to tumors on his foot, to a mysterious disease that ultimately caused his liver to fail. The latter ailment came and went with treatment for the last three years of his life. Outside of camping, hiking, playing in the park, kind of fun stuff. Krypto and I spent countless hours at the vet trying to find out why his body was failing him. So we became close in ways I have never felt with another animal or human. Eventually, towards the end of 2017, Krypto was getting sicker and sicker, refusing to eat much at all. There was really nothing else to be done. So one evening in mid October, I heartbreakingly took him to the vet to be euthanized. I was with him until the end and I miss him. Incredible. Incredibly. Rewind maybe a week or two. I was obviously very consumed by my dog who I love, as if he were my child, being in pain and suffering while coming to terms with him likely dying sooner than Later, I do not recall totally clearly how the message first appeared, but on our everyday plain run of the mill microwave I noticed a notification. Prior to the this day I never noticed that this microwave had a message button, nor has a message button been on any of the many microwaves I have seen since. One day in early October 2017 I noticed a banner across the readout display of the microwave indicating an unheard message with a small red light lit up on the button as if beckoning to be pressed. So I pulled pressed the message button and a recording played. The message lasted about 10 seconds and sounded like mostly static, but there was clearly someone speaking in what appeared to be a deep southern inflection. My initial reaction was that's weird. But I thought surely there was a reasonable explanation of some sort. The microwave had been in the house when I moved in seven years earlier, so who knows what was on it before me. Maybe there was a power blip and the microwave malfunctioned, so it brought up some old message someone recorded a long time ago that somehow got stored on the microwave. But who knows? Why is there even a message button at all? But I had my dog to worry about, so I put the microwave static message out of my mind, but not before telling my boyfriend who had just moved in with us a few months earlier. After hearing the staticky voice in the microwave, he became somewhat obsessed with deciphering what the message said. He would wake up and play the message, come home from work and play the message over and over, thinking that he was picking up words here and there. I could not muster the energy to be as enthusiastic as he was, even though I definitely found it to be very odd. My beloved dog was dying and that was all I could feel and think about outside of normal life. Fast forward back to one of the hardest days my son and I have had together. My boyfriend was working late so by the time he came home I was fully wallowing in my grief, feelings of loss and perceived failure as a first time dog mom. But he was right back, obsessing over this message in the microwave as usual. After a while I make my way into the kitchen to ask him to please come hang out with me. When I walk into the kitchen he looks at me and stone faced tells me that he knows what it says. I'm like okay what? But he doesn't want to tell me. I told him he needs to tell me and that I want to know now because he is acting like something is wrong. Like what could the message possibly say that is so terrible that he doesn't think I should know now, when before he wanted to know so badly. Eventually he tells me to just listen for myself and I will hear it clearly. So just as I did before, I pressed the message button and the message played just as before. But this time there was not the overwhelming static. This time the recording played a date. Deep drawl of a man's voice clearly state matter of fact as if he was telling you what he had for lunch. That feller right there. He is going to die soon. To this day I have no explanation as to how the message got in the microwave or why there was even a message button at all. I can also not explain why suddenly that night the message came through so clearly after the hundreds of times my boyfriend had played the recording in the days prior. No one in my direct family or circle has a deep southern drawl like the one I heard, so I am certain it did not come from anyone. I know we have speculated over the years, sometimes rationally, other times less so, but this is one of the few experiences in my life my boyfriend and I both just do not have a reasonable explanation for was someone in my house or something less reasonable. I want to start off by saying that I have never told this story to anyone. I am a 32 year old female and my name is Kara. It all started about 2 weeks ago ago when I moved into my new apartment. I was all moved in and everything because I live alone so I didn't really have much stuff to unpack. Later that day I grabbed my purse and keys to go to work for the day. I was walking to my car when I saw someone start to approach me. It was a woman who looked to be at least 45 to 55 years old. It was very obvious that she was a smoker. She also looked sick, sleep deprived, skinny and frail. She had very noticeable eye bags that seemed to get worse the more I looked at them. Hello miss. You must be the new neighbor. Said the old woman with an extremely damaged voice caused by years of smoking. Yeah, I just moved here about three days ago. I responded as polite as possible. Then I noticed she had some something in her hands that she hid behind her. She looked really excited to show me. Then she noticed I saw it and it seemed to make her even more excited that she had a huge smile on her face. It was horrible. Her teeth were uneven and rotting. She was missing teeth and her gums looked like they had been bleeding earlier. Her lips were blistered and dry. She scared the absolute crap out of me. I want you to meet someone, she said in a kind of sing songy voice. She showed me what she was hiding behind her. Her name is Jambalaya. It was a very strange looking doll that resembled a coconut. Oh thank you. It's nice to meet her. I just told her what she probably wanted to hear to avoid any drama. I also had to wrap things up soon before I was late for work. I'm sorry but I have to get to work. I'll see you later ma', am, I said in an apologetic tone. No need to be formal. You can call me Emma. She said right before I could get in my car. I nodded in response and get in my car, turned it on and pulled out of the park parking lot. I looked in my rear view mirror for a split second and saw that the woman was dead staring at me while rocking that weird doll. I concluded that she was probably under the influence judging by her attitude and the look of her after work. I was driving home around 5:05 and I pulled into the parking lot. When I drove in I saw Emma in the middle of the parking lot, just sitting in the middle of the road playing with jambalaya. What is she doing? I whispered to myself in complete shock as I drove past her. She saw me in my car and gave me a sinister rotten smile. I smiled back. Trying my best to keep my composure. I parked and stepped out of my car. Please don't come over here, please don't come over here. I repeated in my mind as I walked to the entrance. I avoided eye contact as best as I could but ended up looking at her because I heard her saying no singing something. I kept walking but I also kept looking at her. Jambalaya. Jambalaya. Jambalaya. She sang in a low creepy voice. She. She sang it slow and she kept repeating that doll's name. I walked a little faster and right before I walked in I looked back to see if she was still singing. She wasn't. She was standing holding that doll in one hand and the other was on her heart. She was visibly upset for some reason. We were just standing there staring at each other for what felt like hours. Then I broke my trance and mouthed an apology and walked in, not looking back this time. As soon as I walked to my apartment, I locked my door. Emma freaked me out and I didn't want to be around her. I mean she isn't hostile or anything, which she gives me the creeps. I put my stuff down and walked to my room, turned on the lights, flopped on my bed, sighed. I got back up and started climbing, cleaning up my mess. I walked to the window, slightly scared for what I might see. Nobody. I was relieved. Part of me was expecting Emma to be looking at me from my window. I woke up at an uncertain time and looked over to my bedside table to pick up my phone, realizing that it was 4:30 in the morning. I tried to figure out why. I woke up and turned the bedside light on because I was wide awake for some reason. It was kind of an unnerving feeling because I didn't understand what was happening. As I was lying there in my bed, I started hearing weird tapping noises and I froze. Being the person that always listens to scary stories and has become a little paranoid, I started to freak out. I didn't know if I should get up and go see what was happening or just in my bed and wait for it to pass. The tapping stopped after about a minute and I just heard shuffles and something like a whisper. At this point I was definitely freaking out and really didn't know what I should do. All of a sudden everything went quiet for about five minutes. I was still too scared to get up when all of a sudden my front door slammed super loud. This scared me so badly. I got up from my bed super fast, looking in every room to try and figure out what just happened. I didn't see anything, so I started to freak out even more, thinking I was going crazy. The last place I checked was the bathroom and I looked in the shower to see if somebody was hiding in there. To my surprise, there was something in there, but it wasn't a human. And after I saw what it was, I realized who had been in my apartment. It was Jambalaya. I have no idea why she wanted to break into my apartment just to leave this stupid doll in my bathtub. It makes no sense and I still have no idea why she did it. After this event, I realized how crazy this woman really was and how dangerous she could be. How was she able to break into my apartment? And how long was she in there for? And what exactly was she doing other than just leaving a doll in my bathtub? That morning I looked around the whole house trying to figure out just how she broke in. After about 10 minutes of searching the house and checking every door and window, I noticed that my bathroom window was unlocked and even still opened ajar. This freaks me out so much and I instantly became mad at myself for forgetting something as important as walking all of your windows and doors to make sure they're locked. I knew right away this is how she managed to break in and she must have just went out the front door because it was easier. I went to the apartment manager and staff and explained everything that had been going on and how I would possibly be moving outside soon due to this crazy person I was living next to. Thankfully, they understood my situation and said that they would be talking to Emma about what had happened. They offered me next month's rent for free if I stayed. I decided to accept this offer since I had just recently moved in and didn't have a lot of money around. A week later, after nothing happened, I heard from the apartment staff that Emma was getting arrested and possibly getting sent to a mental ward. They explained to me that after the manager had tried to talk with her about what was going on and had her confess to breaking into my apartment, she became furious about everything and denied the whole thing. She had a mental freakout and was taking it out on the manager just because he tried to talk to her about her actions. This led to her getting aggressive and being arrested. I have to say I was pretty happy about the news of her being arrested because that meant I didn't have to worry about her anymore and it gave me a lot of hope for my new apartment. I threw that doll away and decided to move on with my life that year after all this crap. It was actually one of the best years of my life because I was able to build my self confidence, which in my opinion led to me becoming a much better person. Obviously this woman had issues and I really hope that she is getting the help she needs.
This episode of Scary Stories and Rain is a chilling compilation of true, unsettling encounters ranging from mysterious strangers in the woods, hair-raising roadside ordeals, near-misses with evil intentions, harrowing family betrayals, supernatural nightmares, to the terror of a neighbor turned stalker. All stories are told in a distinctly calm, immersive style, set against the rain for optimal late-night listening.
[02:11 – 04:38]
[04:39 – 19:20]
[19:20 – 22:08]
[29:57 – 34:32]
[34:32 – 41:58]
[44:42 – 49:36]
[49:36 – 55:34]
The episode is delivered in Being Scared‘s signature tone: calm, matter-of-fact narration that heightens the dread and authenticity of each account. Rainfall provides a serene but ironic backdrop to tales of terror, making the everyday seem eerie and the abnormal, inevitable. Each story is personal, relatable, and leaves open questions lingering for the listener to ponder long after.