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Hey, this is Dane and this is Scary Stories in Rain. Please join my family and follow this podcast on Spotify or Apple. And if you want the ultimate experience, you can get rid of all of the ads and be entered to win all of my giveaways every month by subscribing for just 299amonth. All of the ads gone. Every single giveaway automatically entered. And starting now today, every Sunday, I'm going to release the ultimate episode. 6 to 12 hours long ultimate Scary Stories for a Rainy Night. Subscriber Exclusive and as a reminder, we are now four months away from my first movie release in theaters. Gale Yellow Brick Road A dark and terrifying reimagining of the wizard of Oz. If you want to check out the first trailer, click the link in the description to this episode. And if you're not following my other two podcasts, please go check them out. Scary Stories and Fire and Scary Stories After Dark. The links are in the description. Thank you so much for being here and I really hope you enjoy this episode.
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When I was a young kid, I experienced sleep paralysis a couple of Times, but it didn't bother me. The first time I didn't even know it was happening. I just laid there thinking until I drifted back to sleep. The second time I realized I couldn't move, but I wasn't scared, just thought it was very strange. In my 20s, it happened about five times over a period of a month. The first time I had a feeling of dread and of being watched, which but saw nothing in the room with me. Second time, there was a shadowy figure standing in my closet. It just watched me and never moved. And again I had that feeling of dread, but more intense. I say shadowy because that's how I thought of it. And the shadow man is one of the most common things encountered during sleep paralysis, along with the hag and the black cat. But when I think back and envision it, I don't think it was actually a figure made of shadow. It was more like my eyes simply couldn't focus on was vague, like something in my peripheral vision, even though I was looking directly at it. The third time it was standing at the foot of my bed again, just staring at me. I couldn't see its eyes or any other features, but I felt its gaze fixed on me. This was early 90s, so the Internet wasn't really a thing. And I had never heard of anyone having this kind of experience. I was terrified. Eventually I drifted back to unconsciousness. The next time it happened, the figure was standing beside the bed by my feet and I was in extreme terror, unable to move. Only watch as this horror unfolded. And this time it was moving very slowly, like a slow motion blur in the shape of a human. It gradually raised its right knee and placed it on the bed next to my frozen legs. This was beyond fear, beyond terror. I couldn't call out or make any sound. I felt like I couldn't even breathe. It slowly started leaning towards me and I woke up bathed in sweat and hyperventilating. In the days between these experiences, I thought about it a lot and what I should do the next time it happened. I had decided that if I couldn't wake up, I should try to focus on moving some part, any part of my body, in the hope that I could somehow work myself back into animation with the final occurrence. As I became conscious but unable to move, the thing was kneeling on my chest, ever so slowly leaning toward me. This was the most primal, intense terror I have ever felt in my life. As it moved its face closer and closer to mine, it felt like pulses of burning white ice, each one stronger as they coursed up my spine. The closer it got, the more I could almost see its features, but never anything quite distinct, just the impression of eyes burning into mine and a leering malevolence that suggested the grin of a skull. Somehow I remembered to try to move, to focus all of my awareness on my moving hand. I concentrated on closing my fingers into a fist. The thing's face now filled my vision and I channeled all of my fear into the effort to move my fingers. As I stared into what should have been its eyes, I could almost discern something there. As if across a great distance of blackness I could make out two tiny clusters of murky red sparks. And then it happened. As I just felt that the tip of one finger was about to move, a strange vertigo washed over me. This became a tingling numbness as my perspective twisted sideways. I felt my upper body sliding over the side of the bed and hanging diagonally down to the floor. But when I looked up to the bed, I saw myself lying paralyzed still in the bed, staring wide eyed at that horrible thing. And instantly I was back in the bed, fully awake, lurching upright with my fist clenched in front of me. Now I have to say I don't really believe in the paranormal anymore. I love stories about it and I am open to the possibility. But with something like this, I just have to say I don't know what really happened. I make this qualification because while this was the last time I experienced sleep paralysis, it is not the end of the story. A few years later, I awoke from a nap next to a girl I was dating. She was still asleep, so I got up and drove to a convenience store to get some chips and drinks. As I returned, I pulled up to my house and saw that she was sitting on the front porch. She was pale and shivering. I asked her what was wrong. She said that she had awoken to find me gone and herself unable to move. This was the same bedroom. I had my experiences, though now I had a futon on the other side of the room and I had not told her about my sleep paralysis episodes. And as she had laid there, there was this thing that seemed to be made of shadow. Not a humanoid, but some kind of beast, walking on all fours, pacing back and forth around the bed, staring at her and snarled. During the 70s, Alexandra did her own share of partying along with her other fellow coeds during her college days. She traced the outlines of the party scene and that of course led to her to make party acquaintances and associations a part of the 70s scene and leftover free spiritedness from the 60s led to a lot of hitchhiking and relying on the kindness of strangers as well as your own ability to judge a character whenever you accepted a ride from them. Alexandra and her party, acquaintance, friend found themselves waiting for a bus at a city bus stop one day. They had been waiting for about 10 minutes when a young man pulled over and offered the two young coeds a ride instead of waiting. Even Alexandra, with her caution towards strangers, was tempted to accept his offer. Her feet hurt from a particularly long day and week, and she was tired. Her friend, however, readily accepted the ride, turning back to Alexandra to see if she was coming also. However, whilst not breaking eye contact with a seemingly kind stranger, Alexandra politely declined his offer. So Alexandra waved goodbye to her friend and waited for her bus as the man pulled back into traffic, driving her friend away with him. Life went on as usual for Alexandra after she caught her bus and got on with the rest of her day. Since she didn't really speak to that friend often, college exams and life in general occupied Alexandra's mind. Before she knew it, college was over for her and the years passed quickly. It wasn't until just recently that Alexandra saw her old college buddy appear on her TV screen. But to Alexandra's horror, she quickly realized that she was seeing her friend's college picture displayed along with Ed Kemper's other murder victims. Alexandra was totally shocked upon realizing her friend's fate. She felt guilty that she didn't try to stop her friend from going with him. But her friend had caught free rides dozens of times and felt that she was a good enough judge of character. Not only that shocked Alexandra, though, but also the fact that she herself had looked into serial killer Ed Kemper's eyes. That fateful day between May of 1972 and April 1973, Ed Kemper committed several brutal murders. Most of his victims were college coeds. But what makes Ed's case different is the fact that at just 15 years old, the first two victims he claimed were his own grandparents. After that, he went on to take the lives of six innocent coeds. He ended his brutal killing spree when he murdered his own mother and her best friend. Ed's killing methods varied from shootings, stabbings, and even strangulation. He liked to cruise around in his car and choose his co ed victims and then offer them a ride. The innocent young coeds that accepted his act of kindness had no idea that that would be the last ride they would ever accept from a stranger. I'm sure that a lot of you hearing this out there understand that you always question what you could have done differently in order for that person to still be alive today. But to me, at least, the truth behind deaths by murder may simply come down to a matter of wrong place, wrong time. For example, I have heard of a case of three women murdered out in Yosemite by Carrie Stayner several times and from different angles. In one account, I believe that it was said that Carrie actually originally intended to kill another woman he had been seeing and also her children. Apparently she wasn't home when he went to try and execute his deadly plan. So allegedly, as a result, he happened to have spotted the three female visitors of Yosemite on their way out of their hotel where Carrie Stayner worked as a maintenance man. If one of those three women would have just taken a few seconds longer to leave the hotel room, maybe they all would have waited back and Carrie never would have spotted them. It's just a theory, but to me, that part of reality is truly terrifying. Please, everyone, stay safe, keep your safe practices, and most importantly, follow your gut instincts.
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Well I was down on my last dollar then I started saving cause the bank said fiscal restraint is what you're craving. So I put my earnings in a High yield account Let the saving compound and the interest mount I'm optimizing cash flow putting debt in check now time is my praying and not a pain in the neck and we've got a little cash to rebuild the old debt Boring money moves make kind of lame songs but they sound pretty sweet to your wallet PNC bank brilliantly boring since 1865 as luck would have it, I inherited a crappy piece of property in my early 30s when an uncle passed away. I know that sounds ungrateful, but if you had seen it, you would have laughed just like the rest of my family did. They teased me with countless haunted stories. Due to the fact that the property was in a wooded area in the middle of nowhere, I decided that I might as well go out and take a look one weekend, but no one was available to go with me. Mom was afraid for me and made me promise to call every night, seeing as I left Friday afternoon and planned to come back on Saturday. I drove a van so I had decided that I would sleep in it even though there was a self contained cabin there. Unlucky for me. I was advised that there was no running water, but I had already resigned myself to fixing the place up and selling it even if I got a low price for it. When I pulled up to the driveway on the four acre property, I felt shivers going down my spine. I couldn't put my finger on why that happened, but I ignored it and continued to drive. The trees were so thick that I imagined myself getting lost, but soon I saw the cabin which seemed too new to be in these shabby surroundings. There were a couple of abandoned old cars and a haphazard pile of rotting wood near the shed which was next to the cabin. When I got out of my car I felt icicles running through my veins. Maybe it was nerves, but I was sure I saw a shadow in the woods. I felt stupid but I called out hello. Of course nothing was there and the shadow disappeared. I actually thought it might have been a bear, so I raced to the front door and fiddled with the keys, eventually unlocking the door and letting myself in. There was no furniture apart from an old table and only one old chair. It was obvious that my uncle started doing the place up, but his death intervened. Thinking of him, I worried that his ghost might be haunting the cabin. Little did I realize at the time the scariest things were to happen outside. I started to wonder if I would stay at all, but found myself dragging my bags and air mattress in. I sat at the table and ate a makeshift meal, making mental notes about what I had to do to get the place ready for sale. Then I heard a metallic noise not far from the back door. I couldn't be sure, but it sounded like a knife or axe being sharpened. Fair enough, I do have an overactive imagination, but the sound was very real to me. Haunted stories usually don't scare me one bit, but when I looked out the back window, there was nothing to see at first. As soon as I moved to go back to the table, something caught my attention out of the corner of my left eye. I gasped when I turned back and saw what I thought was a huge hulking silhouette staring at me from the edge of the woods. It was too small to be a bear, but why would there be a person out here in the middle of nowhere? I moved over to the window and had a second look, but it was gone. I could have kicked myself for not bringing a weapon with me. I didn't even have a multi tool gadget. Even though I am female and was quite tough at the time, I had been a tomboy all my life. I always had tools on me, but all I had at the time was a flashlight. Deciding not to be brave, I stayed in the cabin and wrote notes in my journal. I froze when I heard the metallic sound again. This time I was sure that it was insane inside the cabin. I got up and nervously crept around saying, who's there? Believe me when I tell you that I jumped out of my skin when a shadow walked past the window. The frightening thing was I couldn't tell if the shadow had been in the front of the window or outside. In a panic, I ran over to the window and once again I saw a huge silhouette climb closer to the cabin, but still at the edge of the woods. Rooted to the spot, I stared and barely blinked, trying my best to see if it was real. It seemed like hours went past, but eventually I had to blink. When I did, the shadow disappeared. I really thought a crazy man was watching me and I decided that I had to leave. But what if he was waiting for me outside? I gathered up my things and ran to the front door. But I stopped when I heard something fall over in the next room. Was he inside? I had no way of knowing and I did not want to find out. I opened the door and ran as fast as I could to the car. I was so grateful when the engine started immediately. While driving off, I looked in the rear view mirror and I swear I could still see the outline of a person. But when I slowed down for one Last look, they were gone. It might sound odd, but I actually gave the property away to my dad, who hasn't had any issues there. At this is my boyfriend's story, which he gave permission to share. It's about a very, very eerie encounter that nobody can really understand fully to this day. My boyfriend is an absolute skeptic, but he definitely does not claim to know what exactly happened either. For context. My boyfriend and I are from South Brazil. He was around 24 or 25 years old when this happened. He used to live in a big city and went out running almost every day. It was pretty much the same route and he used to go through an old cemetery near his home. The neighborhood around his house and the cemetery was pretty dangerous, especially at night. He used to live in a very old building, kind of like the project for working class people who worked in factories built in the 50s. It's actually a Brazilian historical landmark and holds years of history. So on this day he went running and entered the cemetery. It was a hot summer evening, around 5pm the place would always close at 6. He was running by the back of the graveyard on a path surrounded by trees and headstones, domes. There was a high hill between him and the entrance, which was high enough that he couldn't spot the entrance door or fence from where he was standing. Everything was fine and peaceful until he got to this spot on the far end of the cemetery. He says he remembers hearing footsteps over his music but never seeing anyone behind or in front of him. That was until the sudden moment that a voice called for him loud enough for him to stop and take his earphones off. He looks around but sees nothing. Keeps running, going a bit slower. Then, as soon as he looks up the hill on his side, he sees a man there, staring and walking towards him. He was a very old man, probably late 70s, looking extremely thin and pale. My boyfriend recalls very clearly that the old man was wearing a ragged old style mustard yellow shirt and khaki pants. The man was holding his ID in one hand and a very decrepit suitcase in another. My boyfriend stopped moving and noticed that the man had an insane amount of sand and dirt on him. Even though there wasn't any sand around. The man, still up on the hill, got very close to my boyfriend and kept repeating the same thing over and over again. Hello, my name is Cicero and I'm trapped in here. My name is Cicero and I'm trapped. I can't leave. I'm trapped. My boyfriend says that in the moment he didn't feel threatened or Scared, just a bit confused with the man's appearance and strange behavior. Cicero kept holding his ID in front of him, but the piece of paper was so dirty that my boyfriend couldn't read anything. When he finally understood what Cicero was saying, my boyfriend started pointing out the exit, which was straight over the hill to the opposite side or through the side part he was running on. The whole time he was saying this, Cicero kept looking at him intently, kind of half listening, still holding his ID card in front of him. Once my boyfriend stopped talking, Cicero began saying he was trapped here and that he couldn't leave this place. My boyfriend was getting annoyed and he simply thought at the time that this was a very confused old man and repeated the same explanation. He then resumed walking down the path Again. Cicero kept repeating his words, but he then asked something else. His voice got very desperate at this point. Point he said, please help me. I want to leave, but I'm trapped. I don't know how. Please help me. It was then that my boyfriend started getting a little spooked. He glanced over again and Cicero was still standing on the hill above him. My boyfriend says that there was so much sand on the man that some was spilling on the ground near him. Cicero had big scared eyes, like he had seen so much and actually needed help. My boyfriend then stopped walking. There was absolutely no one around and it was getting darker. He decided to speak to Cicero from a distance, very calmly. My boyfriend explained over and over again how to access the exit and suggested that maybe Cicero could also try going through a metal fence that had lots of holes in it if he so preferred. After a moment of silence, Cicicero lowered his ID. My boyfriend thought that he would get angry or violent, but Cicero just smiled and said very peacefully, okay, thank you very much. Then Cicero turned around and left, walking the opposite side and disappearing down the hill. My boyfriend was scared by this point because he was thinking about his eerie surroundings, the strangeness of the man's demeanor, and also the fast approaching darkness. He remembers thinking that the weirdest thing about it, apart from all the sand and tattered clothes, was that it was incredibly easy to leave the cemetery. It wasn't a big or confusing place, and it had only one huge metal entrance. So my boyfriend ran pretty fast and left right before a guy closed up the doors with a padlock. He looked around to see if Cicero got out, but didn't see anyone. He then says that he got home and told his mom, who's a very religious woman. She was absolutely certain that Cicero was a spirit trapped in the place and the body was buried. Her theory is that the man had been there for years since his clothes were old style and the place that they lived in had had a lot of violent deaths over the years. My boyfriend also recalls feeling incredibly creeped out. Over the next few weeks, he experienced sudden urges or sadness and despair out of nowhere, especially at night. He used to sleep with his windows open because of the heat, but started closing them after he heard more than once some hushed male voices outside in the middle of the night. He never went back to that cemetery alone and took a long time to return. Nobody else he told this story to knew about Cicero or ever saw someone resembling him. Now, of course, we know this encounter could be explained as a confused person who needed help, but the way Cicero asked for help and the way his old clothes looked like they were fresh from the grave haunts my boyfriend to this day. I just hope Cicero found his way in the end. My uncle Andrew has this story from back when he was a commercial airline pilot. He wasn't piloting the plane this happened to, but he heard the story from a friend who used to fly private jets around West Africa. Apparently the gig paid well enough, but because of the safety regulations and some of the more turbulent politics around the region, the flying could get pretty hairy from time to time. A bunch of crazy stuff happened to him while he was over, but the thing that made him quit makes for quite the yarn. So apparently his friend is co piloting the private jet of some African ambassador, but the plane is basically falling apart. All the dials are faulty, the landing gear was on the fritz. Basically, you were taking your life in your hands whenever you piloted this aircraft. But since they were coming to the end of their contract, they didn't want to quit early and not get their bonus. So they worked with the ground crews to ensure the aircraft was fit for takeoff each time. Point being, my uncle's friend is seriously stressed out and the actual pilot had taken to drinking most nights just to keep his nerves together. But the straw that broke the camel's back was this one night flying flight into Nigeria. The turbulence had been very rough on this occasion, and apparently the pilots are just about ready to throw in the towel. But the flight is almost over and they are both about to breathe a sigh of relief as they begin their descent into whatever airport they're flying into. The way my uncle tells it, his friend is focusing on the Runway, but the entire city is behind it. This massive metropolis of glittering lights. Then suddenly all the lights just disappear like the city itself. Was just swallowed up by the earth. My uncle's friend and the pilot of the private jet just about crapped their pants with their faulty equipment and complete lack of experience landing in that particular city. They are maybe only seconds away from smashing that plane into the Runway or maybe even a building if they tried to pull away too late. Then to make matters worse, the pilot just seemed to shut down. He has this full on mental breakdown and just freezes up in his seat. My uncle's buddy had to take control of the aircraft and basically just guess where all the Runway and the buildings were. He said it was the most stressful and terrifying flight of his life. How he was expecting the plane to just burst into flames any second as it collided with something. He pushed the engine to its absolute limits too. Said the plane was shaking at the angle he was turning it at. Miraculously, they don't crash or stall and they make it back into the skies above the darkened city. And my uncle's buddy starts bawling out the pilots for freezing up like he did. But the guy was catatonic until they landed and didn't say a thing in response. After that they went into a holding pattern until the power came back on and they could get in touch with air traffic control and get permission to land. I hate flying as it is, but imagining that kind of scenario is like a pucker factor of 10. Word was the pilot was so freaked out that he refused to take the return flight, bought a business class ticket back to the US and was never seen again. My uncle's friend had to wait until his client could hire a new pilot before he could get out of Lagos or Nairobi or wherever it was. Somehow he managed to finish his contract without that plane falling apart on him or any more cities going dark. And he made it out of Africa with a buttload of bonus cash. But after that, he was much more selective of who his clients were. And I think now he just flies domestic and makes a steady salary that way. Crazy story though, right? Of all the times you don't want to get a power cut, landing a plane is definitely up there. Hey, Ryan Reynolds here from Mint Mobile. Now I don't know if you've heard, but Mint's Premium Wireless is $15 a month. But I'd like to offer one other perk. We have no stores. That means no small talk. Crazy weather we're having.
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2007, three year old Madeleine McCann disappeared from her bed in a vacation apartment at a resort in the Algarve region of Portugal. More commonly known as Maddie in the media and to those close to her, she had been taken on vacation by her parents, Kate and Gary, along with her younger twin siblings. One night the McCanns left their children to sleep in the ground floor apartments they were staying in while they ate at a nearby restaurant. Kate and Gary had assumed it would be safe to leave their children alone for the duration since the aforementioned restaurant was just 180ft away, which would allow them to momentarily check on them from time to time. But when Kate went to check up on the children at around 10pm she discovered that Maddie was missing. Over the next few weeks, Portuguese police managed to misinterpret some of the DNA evidence collected from the crime scene. This led to them suspecting that Maddie had died in some kind of tragic accident at the apartment with their parents, covering up their own involvement by faking a kidnapping. The McCanns were formally declared suspects in the case by Portuguese police in September 2007, but were essentially absolved of any suspicion In July of 2008, when Portugal's Attorney General archived the case on the grounds that there was too little evidence to take a case against them to trial. Britain's own Scotland Yard law enforcement agency then began its own investigation, Operation Grange, in mid-2011. After a fair amount of research, the senior investigating officer declared that he was treating the disappearance as a criminal act by a stranger, most likely a planned abduction or burglary that had turned violent when the perpetrators believed themselves discovered. In 2013, Scotland Yard released composite images of local men they wanted to talk to regarding Maddie's disappearance, including one man seen carrying a child toward the beach the same night she disappeared. Shortly after this, in light of new local suspects being identified, the Portuguese police reopened their inquiry into her disappearance. This caused Britain's Operation Grange to be scaled back in 2015 to allow Portuguese authorities more control over the investigation. But some of the detectives who worked on the case continued to pursue a small number of inquiries that they seemed worthy of following up. A prominent British newspaper described the disappearance as the most heavily reported missing person case in modern history, and to this day her whereabouts remain a complete mystery, despite the fact that police in multiple countries were involved in trying to locate their daughter. The McCanns took it upon themselves to hire a company of private investigators to dig up information that might help regular police agencies in their search. The PI company known as Oakley International was based in Washington D.C. in the United States States and was initially awarded a six month contract worth then half a million dollars that was raised mostly by charitable donations made by members of the public. Oakley International began to interview potential witnesses, delve through security footage and trace clues all over Europe. But in 2008, the McCanns leveled a serious accusation at the firm's 50506 year old Irish CEO Kevin Halligin, which meant they reneged on the contract, handing over only half of what the firm was apparently owed. Haligen was said to be misusing resources meant solely for the purpose of finding Matty, allegedly using them to fund a lavish lifestyle of travel and leisure. Halligen fiercely denied the claims, but it appears the man was no stranger to fraud. In 2012 he was extradited to the US to face charges over an unrelated $1.3 million fraud to which he pleaded guilty. The following year he was sentenced to 41 months in prison, but was deported from the United States soon after his court appearance because of the time he had already spent behind bars. Haligen had escaped, escaped the possibility of a lengthy jail term in the US probably because he was wealthy enough to afford the best defense attorneys that money could buy. But because he had become central to the floundering and now apparently corrupt efforts to locate young Matty, he had angered a lot of people along the way and made himself many enemies, some of which vowed to seek revenge on a man that apparently used a little girl's abduction for his own own financial gain, which is why it is so suspicious that he died suddenly at his home in Guildford, Surrey in January of 2018. Adrian Gatton, a TV director and investigative journalist who made a documentary with Haligin in 2014, confirmed his death to the Press association, saying that he had not been in good health. There was blood around the house, probably caused by previous falls when he was either drunk or blacking out. He said his house was full of empty drink bottles. A lot of people wished him ill, but his death is almost certainly related to alcoholism. But following his death, a Surrey police spokesman said that we were called to an address in Cobbet Hill Road, Normandy, following a report of a man in his foot 50s having been taken unwell who subsequently died. The death is being treated as unexplained and a file will be passed to the coroner's office in due course. Unexplained Certainly not a word we might expect to hear following the death of a man who, as Adrian Gatton had phrased it, was certainly related to alcoholism. The fact remains that when the police broke into Halligen's home, they found blood stains all over the house. There is, of course, the possibility that Halligan's corruptly wicked ways had finally caught up with him. That the people who were furious and vengeful regarding Matty's disappearance heard of his apparent corruption and then channeled their anger toward him. But Halligan always insisted that the media reports were a gross distortion of what actually happened. The print media in particular took this line that really nothing was being done. I was living the high life on the proceeds of the McCann case, he once said. Trust me, I didn't so much as buy a new suit. The money, all of it, is fully accountable. It's provable. It seems that Haligin was very keen on proving his innocence with regards to the Find Maddy fund, that he was accused of misusing it. Perhaps the alcoholism he was said to suffer from was a direct result of the ire he had occurred, was a manifestation of the pain that any innocent man would suffer under that kind of undue scrutiny. And maybe, just maybe, he believed that finding Maddy would vindicate him. Did Hallijan die a natural death? Did he even die an explainable one due to his heavy drinking? No. Unexplained. That's how Surrey police described his death. There's every possibility that he was murdered. And if indeed he was, could it possibly be because he had gotten so close to the truth behind Maddy's disappearance that someone somewhere felt that he must be silenced? The actual disappearance took place in Portugal. Haligen's death occurred in Surrey, England. And In June of 2020, a public prosecutor in Germany ordered an inquiry regarding a possible involvement of a 43 year old man believed to have been living in a borrowed VW camper van in the Algarve at the time of McCann's disappearance. The suspect's car, an expensive Jaguar XJR6, was registered to a new owner the day after McCann disappeared. These international connections suggest a coordinated network of child kidnappers, complete with a system of support and logistics that could prove deadly under the right circumstances. Yet regardless, it seems the case that we will never truly know how and why Madeleine Macan was abducted, where she is now, or if she is alive or dead. But if we ever do uncover the truth, we might just lift the lid on a terrifyingly well organized conspiracy that has been responsible for the Disappearances of children all over Europe time and time again. And frankly, I'm not sure the general public is ready for that kind of information. Nor are they ready to find out just how far the tendrils of such an organization really run. Martha Jean Lambert was born on March 26th of 1973 to Howard and Margaret Lambert in St. Augustine Beach, Florida. Martha Jean was an extremely popular young lady among her peers and greatly enjoyed spending quality time with her many friends and family members. Those that knew her often described her as kind and shy, saying that she had a generally happy demeanor. But despite this, her home life was not great. Her father Howard, was an abusive, raging alcoholic with a fierce and volatile temper and her mother Margaret, could often be heard arguing with him when he came home drunk from various bars around St. Augustine. As a result of this highly unstable and distressing relationship between her parents, Martha and her two older brothers were often cared for in various foster homes which had a highly negative impact on their academic performance. Yet in spite of such difficulties, Martha was known for being something of a tough cookie and she didn't let it get her down too much, maintaining a positive attitude wherever she was. In 1985, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving was a day much like any other for young Martha. She spent the day attending her usual classes at school and then when it was over she went over to a friend's house to hang out until around 7:30 that evening when she began the short walk back to her parents trailer. Only that much is certain about what happened that evening. Afterwards things begin to get very unclear indeed and mainly due to conflicting accounts given by her very own family members. What we do know for definitely is that it wasn't until 3am on Thanksgiving Day that Martha was actually reported missing. Her family told the police that she was a 12 year old white girl with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, standing at roughly 4ft and 5 inches tall and weighing just shy of 70 pounds. She was also described as having birthmarks on both her upper left chest as well as on the front of her right thigh. Last her parents had seen of her, she had been wearing a short sleeved summer dress. Given her age and inherent vulnerability, the cops started an intense search for Martha as soon as the missing person's report came in. They initially focused their search around the area near the State Road 207, a stretch of four lane highway that ran through northeastern Florida. They also scoured areas around Carrie Lynn Road, the place that Martha and her family called home. Yet despite their efforts, not a single trace of Martha Jean could be found. And to the heartbreaking disappointment of her family, the trail soon ran cold. Strangely enough, from the very moment she realized her daughter was missing, Martha's mother insisted that her daughter had been kidnapped. This is a rather curious detail as it's a rather specific idea of her daughter's fate, not that she had been murdered, gotten lost or ran away from what was undoubtedly a broken home, specifically kidnapped. Martha's mother told police that on the night in question that she wasn't at her friend's house until the mid evening and she was in fact attending a social gathering with her. She had apparently turned to her mother and in reference to visiting the friend's house, I'm going over to a friend's. I'll be back in five minutes. But Martha never returned. And by the time her mother had realized something something was amiss, it was far too late. She searched and she searched all night and into the wee small hours of the following morning. And by the time 3am rolled around, Martha's mother was worried half to death. Police questioned pretty much everyone in the surrounding area and found that some of Martha's neighbors had some very interesting information regarding some suspicious activity activity in the neighborhood. Shortly after Martha was seen walking west down Carry Lynn Road that evening, a few members of the local community had seen a suspicious green van in the area, One that was seen to drive in roughly the same direction as Martha a short while after she had left the social gathering. And what was most concerning was that not a single person who had seen it was able to recognize the van as belonging to anyone in the community, and nor had they been able to record a license plate number Conflicting with his mother's account. Martha's brother David told the police that he and his sister were having dinner together that night. During the time just before she disappeared, he mentioned that she had gotten up from the table and walked out of the house, refusing to tell him where she was going before she climbed into the passenger seat of a black sedan. Yet police were forced to dismiss Martha's brother's claims in the face of other more consistent accounts, yet were continuously flummoxed as to why the boy had given them such a strange fabricated version of events. Despite her mother's insistence that she had been kidnapped, Police originally assumed that Martha was a runaway due to the violent and volatile situation between her parents. But it only took a small amount of speculation and investigation for them to conclude that there was most likely some degree of foul play involved in her disappearance that had most likely ended in her murder. However, Not a single suspect has been named as her kidnapper, and there have never been any arrests regarding her disappearance. Essentially, Martha walked off that night from somewhere and basically vanished from the face of the earth. A few days after she had initially disappeared, a handful of police officers scoured a wooded area behind the family's trailer for any sign of her, but again, nothing was found. Detectives also put a substantial amount of man hours into searching for Martha's remains around the area where the Florida Memorial College once stood. But again, nothing was found. It confounded them. All the places where it was thought that she may have either run off to or have been dumped were completely devoid of clues. As a result, it was assumed that Martha's mother had been correct in her assertions and that Martha had indeed been kidnapped by someone who wasn't part of her extended family. Many missing persons agencies in the United States still classify Martha's case as. As a non family abduction to this day. Yet despite this, police say there is absolutely nothing to back this up, that there is no evidence of abduction. And the green van theory, the one that neighbors claim they saw, has never been substantiated. The one real discrepancy with the whole case is the fact that Martha's older brother, David, seems to have lied about what happened that night. As a result, for a while, he actually became the closest thing the investigation ever had to a serious suspect, based on the fact that there were obvious lies being told and that his story seemed to change in its details on a few different occasions. As was previously mentioned, David claims that he saw Martha get into a black sedan that evening after they had dinner together. But he later changed his story to say that she had simply left to visit a local convenience store and then never returned home. Due to these inconsistencies, investigators suspected that although David might not have murdered her, there was definitely some information that he knew that he was not entirely forthcoming with. After all, he was only 14 years old at the time of the disappearance and may not have been capable of cold blooded murder. However, in the year 2000, when David was 29 years old, he approached local law enforcement with an outrageously shocking claim. He confessed to killing his sister and told officers that he had disposed of her body in a mine located on Holmes Boulevard. Yet when the police searched the mine, there were no human remains to be found, nor any signs that anyone had been hurt or murdered there at all. Which meant that despite his apparently full and frank confession, there was simply not enough evidence to charge David with his sister's murder. But then again, in 2009, David tried to convince the cops that it was in fact him that had murdered his sister, but changed his story from the version he had given nine years previously. This time around, David claimed that he and Martha had been playing together on the grounds of the then derelict Florida Memorial College building, having left their parents trailer after a drunken argument had broken out over an overcooked Thanksgiving turkey. David said once that they were tired of playing, that they walked to a nearby convenience store to purchase refreshments. It was at this store that they began to argue over a $20 bill that David had nabbed from his mother's purse. When the argument peaked, Martha slapped David across the face. David told the police that he had retaliated by shoving her, which caused her to fall backwards in an awkward fashion, smashing her head on a piece of metal as she fell. David panicked, called for help, but after seeing that no one was around, dragged his sister's body back to the grounds of the old college before burying her in a shallow grave. Once again, such a detailed confession warranted investigation, but just like the previous occasion, there was absolutely no evidence found to support it. But since the college buildings were demolished in the mid-90s and the grounds excavated. Excavated, there is every chance that her body could have been lost among the debris as it was being disposed of. However, when Martha's mother was asked if she believed that David had murdered her, she completely rebuked the idea. Even in the face of such an apparently frank confession, David's mother insisted that David often told lies in order to get attention and doubled down on her claims that some kind of outsider was responsible for Martha's disappearance. Whether or not it was a result of direct pressure from his mother, David ended up retracting these previous confessions, admitting that he had completely fabricated the stories so that law enforcement would give up the search for Martha and declare the case closed. He went on to admit that he suffered from intense emotional and mental problems, and it was these that made him outright lie about his involvement in his sister's disappearance, now denying that he had anything to do with it. As of November 2020, almost 25 years to the day since she disappeared, Martha Jean Lambert's disappearance remains completely unsolved, and no human remains have ever been discovered. There are only really two main theories regarding her disappearance, which revolve around the idea of abduction or her brother accidentally killing her. But as previously stated, there is very little evidence to support either theory, and so logically, neither can be fully supported since there have been no arrests or charges. But that doesn't stop many from insisting that since David's confession is so detailed and believable that we cannot simply dismiss his stories, even though they seemed to shift in their details over time. Essentially, the one person whose story deviated may have just allowed a drip of information over time, unable to quite face the truth himself. Then, overcome with guilt 15 years after the murder, he came forward to give a full and frank account of what happened that night after he did so. So David's mother, not wanting to lose two children to the same incident, may well have convinced him to retract his confession so that he wouldn't end up rotting in prison. On top of that, the statute of limitations for manslaughter had expired by the time he made his first confession, which raises the question, is that simply a coincidence or was it a well timed attempt to both clear his conscience while avoiding any actual punishment for his actions? Either way, it is pure speculation, and the case may truly be that we will never, ever know what really happened to Martha Jean Lambert that Thanksgiving night. And it is a truly terrifying thought that a young girl can simply vanish from the face of the earth with no closure to her friend, friends, family or society as a whole.
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What are your holiday traditions? Putting up a minimum of six trees. Decorating every room with a different theme. Whatever it is, here's one way to make those traditions extra special. Start the season with Etsy. On Etsy, you'll discover original pieces from small shops to help you celebrate your way. Shop Etsy for holiday decor that makes you feel seen. Special starts On Etsy Tap the banner to shop now it's.
Host: Being Scared (Dane)
Air Date: October 20, 2025
Podcast: Scary Stories and Rain
Theme: Unsettling true accounts and mysterious disappearances, infused with atmospheric rain ambience—perfect for sleepless nights, uneasy dreams, or anyone captivated by dark true tales.
This episode of Scary Stories and Rain (Ep. 264: “Country Lost”) features a collection of unsettling, true stories centered around brushes with the paranormal, close calls with evil, and dark mysteries—some rooted in history, some in personal experience. Each story explores the razor-thin boundaries between safety and danger, haunting the listener with the idea that being in the wrong place at the wrong time can change—or end—lives forever.
Dane’s calm, evocative narration blends chilling tales with the soothing sound of rain, making for an episode that’s as meditative as it is terrifying. The episode includes:
[02:37–07:45]
[07:45–11:42]
[14:33–20:30]
[20:30–26:25]
[26:25–32:53]
[33:12–44:25]
[44:30–56:35]
On Fate & Danger:
“To me, that part of reality is truly terrifying.” – Dane, on random murder victims ([10:52])
On Bravery and Instinct:
“Follow your gut instincts.” ([11:45])
On the Paranormal:
“I just have to say I don’t know what really happened.” – Dane, about the sleep paralysis entity ([07:01])
On Conspiracies:
“If we ever do uncover the truth, we might just lift the lid on a terrifyingly well-organized conspiracy that has been responsible for the disappearances of children all over Europe.” ([43:40])
On Hopelessness:
“It is a truly terrifying thought that a young girl can simply vanish from the face of the earth with no closure…” ([56:24])
The narration is calm, measured, and slightly melancholic, making the horror all the more potent. Dane never resorts to melodrama, allowing the true stories and subtle rain ambience to amplify the unsettling nature of each tale. There is a continual thread of uncertainty—“we may never know”—which makes every story feel open-ended and resonant.
“Stay safe, keep your practices safe, and—most importantly—follow your gut instincts.” ([11:45])
For those new to the podcast or this episode:
Here you’ll find true tales blending the supernatural, true crime, and the existential terror of loss and the unknown—all delivered in calm, rainy, meditative tones. Perfect for late-night listening, and for contemplating just how thin the veil is between safety and catastrophe.