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Hey, this is Dane and this is Scary Stories and 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 $2.99 a month. All of the ads gone, every single giveaway automatically entered. And starting now, today, every Sunday, I'm going to Release the Ultimate Episode 76 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.
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Terrifying reimagining of the wizard of Oz.
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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.
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Go check them out.
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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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My childhood best friend Marie and I were around 11 or 12 years old at the time. Marie's family had their own campsite in a provincial park about two hours from our hometown and would spend the entire summer each year living in their camper out there. This particular summer I was able to go and stay with them for a week and we were excited to spend our time adventuring around the forest. On the last night that I was there, we decided we wanted to hurry down to the ice cream shop by the lake before it closed. It was early evening at this point, still pretty bright out but beginning to lose light. The path we took was down a short slope right next to the main road with maybe 10ft of thick brush and trees in between. On the other side was the forest with more tall, thick brush, so we were walking along, not seeing a single other person on the path in front or behind us. We hear a sudden rustling and snapping of branches, similar to the sound of.
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Maybe a deer moving through the woods.
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I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but then the sound of running footsteps follows. Marie glances back and suddenly grabs my arm, urging me under her breath not to look back. At the same time the running stops. I don't know why I didn't ignore her and get a look myself. I guess I could sense the very real fear in her voice and chose to listen. We both start to panic, getting that feeling like when you're running up the stairs after turning the basement light off. We pick up speed as much as we can without breaking into a sprint, knowing the ice cream shop is only about a minute walk away at this point. The path soon breaks and we are in the parking lot. Suddenly Marie steers me hard to the left, heading towards the lake and the boat rental instead of continuing straight to the ice cream shop and I go along with it silently understanding ice cream is no longer an interest. Right now. Marie is clearly panicking. At this point we are both looking around, but it seems whatever scared her is nowhere in sight. At this point, Marie walks up to the boat rental and gets us a kayak and we climb in and begin to paddle out into the middle of the lake. As we paddle, she tells me that there was a man behind us and that the man had stopped running at us very abruptly upon making eye contact with her. He had been wearing a long black coat with a hood up despite it being the middle of July, had a terrible smirk on his face, and she swore that as he stopped running she saw him put something shiny away into his coat.
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He appeared to have just emerged out.
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Of the bushes after we walked past, given the sounds we heard right before he came running up. We reach the center of the lake and stop paddling. I pull out my Nokia brick phone that my parents had thankfully given to me just in case. I hand it to Marie and tell her to call her parents to come pick us up. As the phone rings, I see her look out past me to the shore and go pale, lifting a hand to point at what she was seeing. I turn and there was the man stalking his way around the path that circled the edge of the lake, staring out at us. We sat in the middle of the lake and watched him do two full laps, never looking away from us before finally disappearing. It took a few tries to get a hold of her family. We were freaking out so bad the whole time as the sun got lower and lower. We did manage to have someone come with the truck, but by the time we reached the shore it was pretty dark outside. I don't know what we would have done if we hadn't been able to call for a ride. Looking back, I don't know why we didn't just go up to the ice cream shop, inform an adult there and ask her parents to come get us then. But it worked out. We got back safe and we thankfully never saw that man again. This happened about 15 years ago. I was 21 years old and living in my very first apartment. It was a small bachelor apartment in a sketchy area. I grew up in a town that Was known to be rough and tough. I knew how to handle myself and learned at a young age to keep my head down and not go looking for trouble. My apartment building was behind a bar. A lot of the customers of the bar would stand outside to smoke. When they stood outside to smoke, they would be looking at my apartment.
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Most of the people who were out.
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Smoking kept to themselves. A few would nod and say hello if passed by. Never any issues. Until one evening I came home from work. I passed the bar and saw this extremely tall man outside smoking. As I passed, he just stared at me. I gave him a slight nod, but he did not acknowledge it. He just continued to stare. It made me uncomfortable, but I didn't think much of it. About an hour later, I hear a knock on my door. It was odd because you have to buzz people into the building. The building only had eight units and I didn't really know any of the neighbors. I froze because I really didn't want to talk to anyone. But the knocking continued. I finally shouted, who is it? But there was no response. I shouted again, who's there? And the voice said, it's Tom. I didn't know anyone named Tom. So I shouted back, I don't know anyone named Tom. You must have the wrong apartment. The voice then said, you may not know me, but I know you. Open up so we can talk. I went over to the peephole and it was the tall dude from the bar. I loudly said, screw off or I'm calling the cops. I heard his footsteps walk away and heard the building door open and then close. He was gone, or so I thought. A few minutes later, I peeked out the window and he was standing in the parking lot. He seemed to be talking to himself. At this point, I am free. Freaking out. I called my landlord who lived in the building next to me. He told me to call the police and that in the meantime, him and his brother would come check things out. I call the police and tell them what's going on. They said, a car is on the way. Meanwhile, my landlord and his brother make their way to the parking lot. I watch out my window and see them approach the guy. The guy takes one look at them and bolts. My landlord and his brother try to chase him, but the tall guy got away. About five minutes later, the police arrive. I give my version of events and also a description of the man. The officer just blankly looks at me and says, we've had reports of a man matching that description who has been preying on women. You should be very glad you didn't open the door. A few days later, I get a call from the officer. He told me part of their investigation was talking to the owner of the bar. The owner called the police when the tall guy reappeared after a few days and the police responded and arrested him. When I was 10, my parents and I went to visit my grandmother for spring break. My cousin also came to visit and we decided we wanted to go to the YMCA for the day. My grandmother dropped us off and said she would come and pick us up in four hours. On that day, the YMCA was empty. There were a couple of adults in the exercise room, but that was it. We went to the basketball court and after two hours of playing tag and shooting baskets, we were bored. I have never been the biggest fan of swimming, but this YMCA had a pretty cool pool. So we changed into our bathing suits and headed in there. The pool was empty except for the lifeguard. We played a bunch of games and swam laps. But after about an hour, there wasn't much left to do and there was no one except us to hang out with to keep things interesting. So we decided to play a game of seeing how long we could hold our breath underwater. We stood in the shallow end near the clock on the wall so we could time ourselves. Instead of fully submerging, we just stuck our heads face down in the water. We did this a couple of times and I was winning. On our last round, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I figured it was my cousin giving up and telling me that I won. But instead it was the lifeguard who told me to knock it off or she was going to have to ask us to leave the pool. Since we were tired of being in the pool, we figured we would just get out, get dressed and go back to the basketball court until my grandmother picked us up. We only had an hour left anyways, and the water was freezing. As we got out, the lifeguard stopped us and asked if we wanted to go into the sauna to warm up and dry off. The sign said 18 years or older, so of course we were super excited that she allowed us to do that. She walked us to the sauna and unlocked the door. The door was glass and the interior was made entirely out of wood. Inside, above the door, there was a clock, probably to make sure that you were not in there for an unsafe amount of time. The lifeguard stand was adjacent to the sauna, but if you looked out the.
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Door, you could clearly see it.
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She followed us in and went over to the thermometer encased in plastic and Unlocked it so she could crank up the heat. I figured that she must have to turn it on each time, so I didn't think anything of it. Both my cousin and I were very short girls and so we couldn't see the temperature that was printed on the thermometer knob. But I knew she was turning up the heat. Then she left and shut the door behind her.
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I thought I saw her lock the.
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Door too, but I thought to myself, why would she lock the door when we might want to get out? I checked the clock and decided we should get out in 10 or 15 minutes. It was already plenty warm in the sauna, but now the room was blazing. It felt nice because I was so cold from the pool. After about 15 minutes, it was starting to get a little bit too hot and my cousin agreed that we should leave so we could get dressed. I went to turn the knob on the door, but it wasn't budging. I thought maybe it was jammed, so I shook it, but it still wasn't opening. I then let my cousin try. She couldn't get it open either. We figured the lifeguard would be back in a couple of minutes, so we sat back down and waited. The room was getting hotter now too, and I really wanted to leave. I got up and started banging on the door and shaking and twisting the knob trying to get the lifeguard's attention. My cousin got up and joined me. We started screaming at the top of our lungs for her to let us out, but she just stared straight ahead. I don't think there's any way that she couldn't have noticed or heard two little girls banging and kicking the door and screaming. Now we had been in there for about 25 minutes. It was so hot in the sauna that it hurt to breathe. It felt like my lungs were on fire, my eyes and skin were burning. We sat back down and put our towels over our heads because they were still a little damp and it made it easier to breathe. I was so worried about my cousin as she's a couple of years younger than me. I looked at the clock and saw that we had been in there for 35 minutes. I got up and walked to the door again and saw the lifeguards still just staring out straight ahead again. I tried to get her attention by screaming that we needed out and banging on the door as hard as I could, but still nothing. I was starting to get pretty dizzy, so I went to go sit back down, but the wooden seats of the sauna burned my skin. My towel was completely dry, so I put it underneath me to sit on. My hair was also dry, but I wrapped it across my face to cover my nose and I squinted my eyes so that they didn't burn as bad, but I could still watch if anyone walked past the door. It helped only a little bit. My cousin was laying face down with a towel over her head, not moving or saying anything. So I nudged her to make sure that she was still okay. She was, but I could tell that we really needed to get out of there soon because she seemed a bit disoriented. It had been 45 minutes now, and I was extremely nauseous. There was no way that the lifeguard would forget that we were in there, and I thought she would have to come back soon. But there was this little voice in my head telling me maybe she purposely locked us in there. Finally, a man walked past the door towards the pool, but for some reason I just couldn't get up. My whole body was on fire and I felt so dizzy. Luckily, this man wasn't going to the pool. He wanted to be let into the sauna and came back with a lifeguard. I saw them walking this way and immediately jumped up to grab my cousin. I knew now that for sure she had locked us in there because she pulled out her keys to unlock the door and let the man in. I didn't want to take any chances of us being trapped in there any longer. So as the man was trying to walk in, we were trying to shove our way out. As we were going out, the lifeguard started trying to shut the door and push us back in. The man was clearly confused about what was going on and said, I think they want out. The lifeguard let out a sigh and opened the door fully and we ran away as fast as we could into the changing room. We only had about 10 minutes before my grandmother was supposed to pick us up. We were both so shaken by what just happened that we didn't say anything to each other as we got dressed or on the car ride home. When we got back to the house, my parents were making dinner and I told them the story of what just happened. They thought I must have been exaggerating and they didn't believe me. I truly think that that woman was going to let us cook alive in there. The only bit of doubt I have is what would have happened if we actually died. She obviously would have gotten the blame. What was her endgame? I'm 21 now, but I think about this interaction all the time. And when I'm in small spaces or when I get too warm. I still have panic attacks. No one believes this story and I get is pretty absurd. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to ask for opinions, but do you think that this could have been some crazy misunderstanding, or do you think that she really just left us in there to die? And why Sonoma County, California is one of the most agriculturally productive areas in the entire country. It produces a huge amount of hops, grapes, prunes, apples, dairy and poultry products every single year. This is down to the vast swaths of fertile land in addition to the abundance of high quality irrigation water, in addition to the vineyards and wineries that call Sonoma home. One might mistake the county for being a little slice of paradise, but during the early 1970s, a series of horrible, horrifying events in the hills around Sonoma's largest city, Santa Rosa, would make this heavenly place seem more like a circle of hell. On February 4, 1972, two middle school friends were returning from a visit to the Redwood Empire Ice Arena. Maureen Louise Sterling and Yvonne Lisa Weber, both 12 years old, were last seen around 9pm Hitchhiking on Guerneville Road northwest of Santa Rosa. Neither of the girls arrived home that night. Their parents begged local authorities to find their girls and find them they did. Their bodies were found Dec. 28, just a few miles north of Franz Valley Road. A single earring, orange beads and a 14 karat gold necklace with a cross were found at the scene. The cause of death could not be determined from the skeletal remains. Then, just A month later, 19 year old art student Kim Wendy Allen was given a ride by two men on the evening of March 4, 1972. They last saw her at approximately 5:20pm Hitchhiking to school and carrying a large wooden soy barrel with red Chinese characters on it. Her body was found the following day in an embankment in a creek bed. The two men who gave her a ride, one of whom was given and passed a polygraph test, were ruled out as suspects. This pattern of hitchhiker murders was repeated over and over again as the years went by, but only a handful had a modus operandi that matched the previous murders. One in particular had an extremely disturbing additional detail that may shed some light on who the murderer or murderers were. Carolyn Nadine Davis, 14 years old, ran away from her home outside Anderson in Shasta county on Feb. 6, 1973, but disappeared July 15 after being dropped off by her grandmother at the Garberville post office. She was last seen hitchhiking that afternoon near the highway in Garberville. Her body was discovered on July 31, just meters from where the remains of Sterling and Weber had been recovered seven months prior. However, this time the cause of death could be determined and coroner stated that it was an obvious cause of strychnine poisoning. 10 to 14 days before the body was discovered, a witchcraft symbol meaning carrier of spirits was found by her body. As was previously mentioned, an additional eight unsolved murders of female victims have been linked to the unknown murderer, yet not a single conviction has been handed down in connection with any many of them. However, that doesn't mean that there aren't a few prevailing theories on the murderer's true identity. Kenneth Bianchi and Angelo Biono Jr. The Hillside Stranglers of Los Angeles were seriously considered as suspects at one point. The Hillside Strangler murders began with the deaths of three sex workers who were found strangled and dumped naked on hillsides northeast of Los Angeles between October and early November 1977. It was not until the deaths of five young women who were not sex workers, but girls who had been abducted from middle class neighborhoods that the media attention and subsequent Hillside Strangler moniker came to prominence. However, there was insufficient evidence to link either Bianchi or Buono to the Sonoma county murders, so we must look elsewhere for conclusive proof. Another suspect in the case was Frederic Manali, a 41 year old Santa Rosa Junior College creative writing instructor. In August of 1976, Manali was involved in a fatal head on collision on Highway 12. As CHP officers cleared the scene, they discovered something extremely disturbing. In addition to a large amount of creative writing work, police discovered that the instructor cultivated another form of creativity, drawing. But these weren't still life or landscape drawings. They were scenes depicting sadomasochistic acts committed on a young woman. Investigators were easily able to identify the woman in question from the quality of the sketches. It was Kim Wendy Allen, the second victim in the series of murders. Yet despite searches of Manali's home, investigators were unable to find a credible link between the sketches and murders themselves. Another suspect in the case was none other than the subject of a recent Netflix made movie, Ted Bundy. After the prolific murderer's capture for similar crimes in Washington, Colorado, Utah and Idaho, Ted Bundy was heavily suspected as the Sonoma County Hitchhiker Killer. The links between the naked bodies of the Sonoma victims and the extreme venereal nature of Bundy's crimes were obvious. It turned out that Bundy had indeed spent time in the neighboring Marin county, but was ruled out by a Sonoma county detective in the 1970s and again in 1989. This was down to detailed credit card records that reveal Bundy was all the way up the coast in Washington State on the dates of some of the disappearances. An additional suspect in the murders is another famous name, the Zodiac Killer. Investigators were forced to to consider the Zodiac Killer as a possible perpetrator due to similarities between an unknown symbol on his January 29, 1974 exorcist letter to the San Francisco Chronicle in which he claims 37 victims and the Chinese characters on the missing soy barrel carried by Kim Allen. Also, the Zodiac had written a letter delivered to the San Francisco Chronicle on November 9, 1969. In it, he stated an intention to vary his modus operandi in an attempt to confuse detectives and thus evade capture. I shall no longer announce to anyone when I commit my murders. They shall look like routine robberies, killings of anger, plus a few fake accidents, etc. Naturally, the consideration of the Zodiac killer leads us to one Arthur Lee Allen. Allen owned a mobile home at Sunset Trailer park in Santa Rosa at the time of the murders. He had also been fired from his Valley Springs Elementary School teaching position for suspected child molestation in 1968. Allen was arrested on September 27, 1974 by the Sonoma County Sheriff's Office and charged with child molestation in an unrelated case involving a young boy. He pleaded guilty on March 14, 1975 and was imprisoned at Atascadero State Hospital until late 1977. This would indeed match the time period for some of the murders. What's more, Robert Graysmith, in his book Zodiac Unmasked, claims that a Sonoma county sheriff revealed that chipmunk hairs were found on all of the Santa Rosa hitchhiker victims and that Allen had been collecting and studying the same species. It would be possible that since the bodies were dumped outdoors that a few chipmunk hairs might be present on one or two of them. But all of them seems like far more than just a coincidence. Allen was the main suspect in the Zodiac case for more than 30 years until his DNA was compared to a partial DNA profile obtained from saliva recovered on the underside of a postage stamp and envelopes from verified Zodiac letters. Results were a conclusive non match. Fingerprints and blood recovered from the taxicab of Zodiac murder victim Paul Stine. A writer's palm print found on the Zodiac letter of January 29, 1974 and handwriting examples failed to identify Allen as the Zodiac. In practice, this evidence would have exonerated Allen should he have ever stood trial for the charges. So we are Essentially forced to look elsewhere for clues to the murderer's identity. But given that almost 50 years later, each murder remains distinctly clear just who was murdering hitchhikers in the hills around Santa Rosa, California.
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A little background on me. I'm a 19 year old male and I was traveling with my girlfriend. We were on a road trip to visit my grandparents who lived a few states away. They said we could stay at their place for a few weeks over the summer and it seemed like a no brainer because they lived on the beach. The path to getting there though was really long and it was a painful drive. My girlfriend and I both disliked driving, but we figured that we could take turns and it wouldn't be so miserable. I think the total time on the road was about 10 hours. We were about five hours into the drive when we decided to stop off at a rest stop. I'm not gonna lie to you, we stopped quite a bit. I'm a little compulsive with drinking water.
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Because I like to stay hydrated.
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As you might imagine, there are some consequences of being hydrated. It irritated my girlfriend to an accident, but not very much. I think she secretly liked that we were stopping on my sake and not.
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Hers because she always seemed to buy.
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Something every time we stopped. This one rest area was not horrible or anything. Wasn't in a bad area or anything like that. It seemed like a very typical safe rest stop. But this is where one of the most horrifying experiences of my life took place. At least the first part of it. This has simply been one of the many times when I had to pull.
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Off the road to go pee.
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When I saw that there was also a McDonald's near this one rest area, I decided to wait until we got there. I Normally don't eat McDonald's, but I let myself do it on special occasions like road trips. It makes the drive go by a little bit better, even if it makes my stomach feel like garbage. So I went to the bathroom and she bought more cigarettes. We had already made our way to the McDonald's when we had our first appearance with this creepy guy. We actually did talk to him a little bit. Let's go ahead and call him Joe. Joe may have been the strangest looking man I have ever laid my eyes on. He looked like he didn't come from this country and not on a racial basis or anything. He just looked like he had a completely different lifestyle. As if he lived off the land and had never used electricity. His beard went all the way down to his stomach. And if you Looked at it long enough, you could see food particles in there, and some of them not even from a meal that he had eaten that day. So that should give you a good idea of his level of cleanliness. The rest of his outfit followed suit. A dark pair of jeans that looked like they hadn't been washed in a decade and a large leather jacket that looks like the oldest thing I have ever seen in my life. I'm sure it actually wasn't that old, but it had a timely appearance due to it being in such poor condition. Anyway, we spoke to Joe because he awkwardly sat right next to us at McDonald's. I thought this was extremely strange and it definitely weirded me out. I am an introvert by nature and talking to people is extremely taxing. My girlfriend is an extrovert and always attracted people that were interested in conversation. I just found it strange because I have never had someone randomly sit at the same table as me when they were complete strangers. I figured that it was because my girlfriend attracted talkers, but looking back, it was probably because we appeared to be easy targets. Joe sat down right next to my girlfriend and started asking us where we were going. My girlfriend, being the optimistic and unsuspecting person that she is, gave him the entire story that we were basically five hours away from anyone that we knew in any given direction. I tried to give her a look that she needed to shut up, but she did not get the hint. We had already ordered our food and we were eating when he sat down. He didn't order anything. He just invited himself to our table and talked to us for the entire time we were there. At first he was rather polite, but had a really thick accent that didn't seem like it belonged anywhere. I couldn't tell you where that accent came from because I have never heard anything like it in my life. And this is coming from someone who knows plenty. Plenty of people from the North, Midwest, the South, Australia, and anywhere else. This accent just didn't seem like it came from Earth. After a painful experience of trying to get away from Joe, we got back in our car and started our journey again. As we got to our car, I also noticed that Joe had gotten into his car as well. As we had pulled out, Joe was a good distance away from us. I thought this was strange and the warning sign in my head went from flashing to high alert. I knew deep down that we were in some kind of danger. I was driving and I tried putting the pedal to the metal. The next half hour or so, I had probably sped more than I did in my entire life. I was normally a really safe driver, but this guy was really creeping me out. I tried telling my girlfriend that he was tailing us, but she didn't believe me. She thought I was just being paranoid. But what are the odds at seeing this guy at a McDonald's and then him being behind us for 30 minutes after we get on the road? She told me to pull over at the next rest stop and we would know for sure if he was following us. Stupidly, that's exactly what I did. And my worst suspicion was true. He pulled off at the same rest stop and parked right next to us. My adrenaline was rushing as I got ready to fight this guy. I didn't know what else I could do. I told my girlfriend to call the police, and then I got out of the car. He was easily a foot taller than me, but he was a little older and probably not in the best shape. I had the benefit of being an athlete wannabe at my college. I was in pretty decent shape. But none of that mattered when Joe pulled out a knife. There was an immediate understanding between the two of us at that moment. The understanding that he was out to do us harm and I was going to have to defend us. I waited for him to approach. About 30 seconds went by before he started walking in my direction. My heart was absolutely pounding. I started screaming every insult that I could. I called him a degenerate, an old man who was in way over his head. It didn't scare him, though. And when he got within 10ft of me, I thought it would be a good idea to tackle him.
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I was hoping to take him by.
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Surprise, but I didn't. I tried getting him off his feet and onto the floor, but when I tackled him, he plunged the knife into my back, but that was the only.
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Good hit he got.
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I managed to get him on the floor, and after that I started kicking his head ferociously. I don't know how I managed to do it, but he was on the ground, seemingly unconscious, and I was standing there. I could feel the blood flowing down my back. And I got back into the backseat of my car and yelled at my girlfriend to drive me to the nearest hospital. I was questioned a few days later at the hospital about what had happened. I guess the police showed up after we had left and found Joe still there, unconscious. He was in a coma, and the police didn't know what to think. Once they got mine and my girlfriend's version of the story. They did seem to believe us, so that was that. I don't know if Joe ever woke up from that coma, and honestly, after he almost killed me, I kinda hope he didn't. That was an extremely traumatic experience. The good news about the situation is that I can tell people that I put someone in a coma once and if they don't listen to me, they're next. I have always been a fan of horror stories in true crime, which is why it was so strange to have my own experience. So a little background on me. I'm a 20 year old male college student. I attend a local community college and live at home. My local area includes garbage pickup, but here's the problem. We have a really big piece of property. Our driveway is a good long walk from the house itself. We normally throw garbage into the garbage cans that are just outside of our house and that on garbage days I have to take the garbage cans all the way down near to the road so the garbage man can get them. It's a little bit of an inconvenience, but it's not the end of the world. Some of my friends have to bring their own garbage to the local garbage dump and I'm just happy I don't have to do that. If you're a college student, you probably understand the struggle of maintaining a healthy sleep schedule. If I'm going to be honest with you, I really don't have one. I kind of sleep when I'm tired and I'm awake when I'm not. Sometimes I get my schoolwork done early in the morning, like 3am and sometimes it's in the afternoon after class. It really just depends. My horror story begins with me bringing down the garbage cans late at night. What almost always happens is that I don't remember to bring down the cans until the night before at like 11pm or sometimes later. This means that I'm making multiple trips back and forth carrying heavy garbage cans in the pitch black. I mentioned that I like horror earlier, but I don't consider myself to be someone that's scared easily. The night and darkness does not scare me very much. I have had a few experiences where I will hear a noise or imagine that I see something out of the corner of my eye, but it's never been anything horrible. I never imagined that I'd have a bad experience carrying the garbage cans until this last summer. It must have been about 2am and I was moving a really heavy can of trash. It felt like it was at least £100 full of kitty litter. Why? Why, you might ask? My family has five cats don't even Ask. That wouldn't have been an issue. But all of this kitty litter was in the worst trash can that we could have. The wheels both fell off. So I was pulling this ridiculously heavy garbage can full of kitty litter that stinks to the high heavens. I get about halfway down my driveway and of course the handlebar rips off. The entire can fell over and at least one third of everything came out into the driveway. I cursed under my breath and just stood there for a moment, wondering what I was going to do next. There was a big pile of dirty kitty litter here. Now, my best idea was to sweep it back into the trash can. So I started making my way back up the driveway. I didn't walk very far before something possessed me to stop and turn back around. I had this strange feeling that I was being watched. I turned my head and looked to see a light coming from my neighbor's house. And all the time that I have been doing the garbage at night, I have never seen this neighbor up that late before. I was pretty sure it was an older man. He had to have been in his late 60s. So it was kind of a surprise to see a light on in his house at this time. It was on the second floor, maybe his bedroom window. His house was on the other side of the road, and it must have been about 10ft away from the road. So it was a good distance between me and him. I just remember feeling really freaked out that there was someone else awake and watching me. What possible reason could he have for being awake at 2 in the morning? I stood there for a moment, wondering to myself. I was just kind of staring at his window again. There was a good bit of distance and I couldn't see all too clearly, but I felt my heart drop when I saw him walk away from the window. I wasn't exactly sure, but the way he moved made me think that he was standing at his window watching me. He didn't turn out the light, and I didn't see him at the window anymore. I tried telling myself that he was just an old man and that I must have woken him up by dropping this garbage can. I got the broom, started sweeping the kitty litter back into the garbage can, and then brought it next to the road. I felt his eyes on me the whole time, even after he turned off the light. And that was the night everything changed. Every time I ever took down the garbage after that point, I noticed him watching me. I even started mixing up the times when I would bring the garbage down and it didn't matter if it was 2pm or 2am he would be there watching. It was around this time that I also noticed that there must have been a different garbage man.
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The old guy used to get the.
A
Garbage out of the can and throw the garbage can itself and the lid on the ground in a really sloppy way. I didn't blame him too much, but I did appreciate that this new guy was making the effort to put the lid back on the garbage can neatly. It makes my life easier to just grab them and bring them back up to the house. This was a pleasant change, but it didn't calm my nerves one bit from being watched. I started getting really creeped out. I asked my parents about what I should do and they told me I was just being paranoid that he was an older retired gentleman that probably doesn't have anything better to do. If I'm being honest with you, I don't care how bored or unoccupied someone's time is. I don't think there's a person on earth that would go out of their way to watch their neighbor take out the garbage if there wasn't some kind of reason for it. This went on for the rest of the summer and into the next semester. I started getting frustrated with the whole situation. It made me really uneasy. I researched stalking laws to see if I could report him for something. I really couldn't do anything because he never actually left his property. He just always happened to be around. When I started moving the garbage. All break came around and I decided that I was going to make a change. I was going to watch him instead. My bedroom just happened to be on the side of the house that I could see his house from my bedroom window. I found a pair of binoculars in the basement and after bringing the garbage down at 4am One night, I got situated next to the window and began watching this old man. He didn't turn out his bedroom light like usual and it seemed like he was still just sitting there. A half an hour must have gone by before I started getting really sleepy. This guy was just sitting there watching the garbage. I was just about to go to bed when I noticed he left his bedroom. I tried paying attention to see if any of the other lights turned on in his house. But he didn't turn on any of them. I looked closely to notice any kind of changes. About 40 seconds went by and I thought I had completely lost him. I didn't see him anywhere. I just concluded that he might be some kind of scale schizophrenic freak. And this was a Waste of my time. Before putting the binoculars down, I looked down at the garbage pail and I noticed that they were gone. I got really confused for a minute and I had no idea what was going on. I waited a few more minutes to see that old man was carrying what looked like my garbage cans into his house. I waited about 40 minutes for him to go to bed. After the light in his bedroom went out, I rushed down to the garbage cans and was shocked when I noticed that they were completely empty. He had brought them back empty. That was when it hit me. We never got a new garbage man. This guy started stealing our garbage. He must have been emptying it in his own house for whatever reason. This creeped me out so much. Honestly, I had no idea what to do about it. So I started driving the trash to the dump just to avoid having to bring the garbage cans down. After a couple weeks of doing that, I noticed that the old man seemed to be less active around his house. I don't know what he was trying to do, but it still freaks me out to this day. During my time in college, I had a friend whose dad owned an 800 acre piece of land in eastern Texas. In the past, he had leased it out to hunters and paper companies, but was no longer doing it. He had built a cabin on the land a few years before and would let us go out there from time to time and mess around. It served as a great way to relax from the pressures of school and get closer to nature. The spring break of 1997, we loaded up our trucks and headed for the cabin. Our plans were to go shooting, drink beer and other things rednecks like us do in the woods. Our first morning kept us busy cleaning the cabin and moving all of our stuff inside. Around dinner time, we made a big fire outside and cooked a bunch of steaks and fried potatoes. We skipped dessert and broke open some beers. The sun went down not long after, and for the remainder of the evening we got loaded and passed around a joint or two. At some point in the night, I heard a shuffling noise outside and went out to check on it. The fire was barely burning at that point, and just outside of its light.
B
I swore I could see the shape.
A
Of a man standing completely still. From what I could tell, he was facing me, perhaps waiting to see what I would do. I blinked my eyes real hard to get a clearer look, but my position and the lack of light made it too hard to see him clearly. The shape continued to stand still, so I decided I would walk up a little closer in hopes of getting a better picture. The thought terrified me, but I was transfixed by the being. Or perhaps I was still too intoxicated to make wise decisions.
B
I took two steps forward but was.
A
Distracted by a voice behind me. My friend had woken up and noticed the door was wide open, so he got out of bed and saw me walking around the fire. His voice caused me to jump a little, but I soon realized who it was speaking. I asked him if he saw the figure on the other side of the fire pit. He just laughed at me and said I must be so stoned I was seeing things. We laughed it off and returned to bed. On my way, I turned back to.
B
Take one more look, but the shape.
A
Was no longer there. I chuckled to myself and went back to sleep. The next morning, I wrote the whole experience off as the result of too much fun and went on with my day. We spent the first half of it.
B
Fishing at the big pond.
A
Post lunch was shooting, and one guy brought a compound bow. The beers and smoke were broken out. After dinner, a game of poker was attempted, but soon canceled in favor of another evening telling lies around the fire. On one of my many trips to relieve myself that night, I was spooked by the sound of a stick breaking close by and hurriedly made my way back to the fire. The look of fear on my face made the other guys laugh their butts off. I tried to explain what had happened, but was quickly reminded that we were not the only creatures in these woods. The reasoning seemed sound, so I accepted it. Not long after, we were standing around involved in some deep discussion, and I turned to speak to the guy on my left. What I saw caused me to clench up so tight I could have snapped a steel rod with my sphincter. Standing within a few steps behind my friend was another man I did not recognize. It was like he appeared out of nowhere. What made it creepier was that he was staring intently at the back of his head, almost like he was trying to bore through it with his eyes. I remained frozen stiff. The longer I looked at him, I realized he was the same being I saw lingering outside the light of the fire the night before. He was average height with a long, unkempt beard. My friend continued rambling about whatever, unaware of his shadow. After several long seconds, the stranger turned to me with a blank expression and walked away. This was when my friend finally noticed my horrified look. When he spoke the thrall of fear. Fear was released, and I began pointing and rambling about what I had just witnessed. He and my other friend laughed at me again. There was no way I was seeing things this time. I described the man, and one of them suggested that he was Bigfoot. Despite my protestations, no one was buying it, and I eventually cut my losses and shut up. However, I was not beat. Their mockery had made me even more determined to prove the stranger's existence. The next two days were quiet. No stranger, in other words, but I kept my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. By our fifth morning, I was beginning to question my sanity. I had seen this mysterious man stalking around us towards twice, and now he had suddenly disappeared. I resolved to put my quest on the back burner until some new evidence arose. My friend's dad had mentioned to him an owner of one of the surrounding properties had spotted a small group of wild hogs running through his land, and so we grabbed our rifles and went on the search for them. After a mile or so down one of the property's main roads, we came across some hog wallows and knew that we were on the scent. We went up the road, now on foot, tracking them. Another mile on, we stumbled upon three large hogs rooting up the ground and prepared to make bacon. Two of us chambered around as quiet as possible on our rifles and took aim. I was less than a second from saying three and pulling the trigger when the loud crack of another rifle filled the air, followed closely by a burst of wood and bark above my friend's head. It took a moment for it to register that someone was shooting at us. A few seconds later, another crack and strike. This time even closer to my friend. We weren't going to wait for a third. The friend, who appeared to be the target, led us down the side trail.
B
That led back to the cabin.
A
No more shots followed as we fled. However, instead of finding safety at the camp, the shots began again. Seeing no other option, we hopped into my truck and hauled out of there. This was a time just before the commonality of cell phones, so we had to drive the 20 miles to town to get help. After we explained the situation, we returned to the property a few hours later with some deputies. We approached slowly and remained in the cars. When we parked, we waited to see if the shots would start again, but nothing happened. A cursory look around counted three holes in the cabin and another two in my buddy's windshield. Perhaps the worst part was that all of our camping stuff, sleeping bags and such, were spread out all over the ground. Luckily, we had smoked everything the night before. Nothing was missing but a box of 30 30ammo and strangely my sleeping bag and wool blanket. A theory began to form in the deputies minds that we had stumbled upon a squatter or poacher camping out on the property.
B
For whatever reason, they acted as if.
A
They were going to let it go. But once my friend's dad who owned the land heard about it, he put pressure on them to start a search. This was about the time I repeated my story of seeing someone lurking around the cabin. No one was laughing now and my story was finally being taken seriously seriously by somebody. The search was letter on the property by my friend's dad. School had already begun again by the time it took place. It continued for a full week but nothing other than a few old camps were found. It was assumed that he knew the heat would be on him after the shooting incident and moved on. During the course of the investigation, several avenues were followed by to ID the stranger like escaped cons. But he remains unidentified to this day. Because of the chance of another attack, our trips to the property ended the next year. We tried to camp out somewhere else but it wasn't the same and our nature getaways died out. Within five years my friend's dad had a heart attack and lost interest in the cabin. The paper company's lease was renewed and the land's trees have been used to make paper and pulp wood products ever since. Each time I jot down a quick note, I'm reminded of our awesome trips and especially the odd and terrifying week that caused them to stop. I do once or twice a year talk to my old college friend on the phone. As far as he has heard, that crazy stranger still has not been caught. We sometimes theorize as to his origins and where he may have ended up. I, however, often take this much further when I'm alone. I wonder why our so called stranger seemed to focus so much of his anger onto my friend. And perhaps far more concerning, is he still out there waiting for his chance to finish what he began all those years ago?
Podcast: Scary Stories and Rain
Host: Being Scared (Dane)
Release: October 28, 2025
This chilling episode delivers a collection of true, unsettling encounters, blending atmospheric rain and calm narration. The stories, told either by the original victims or as recounted to the host, span from ominous childhood memories to harrowing adulthood confrontations with danger. The central theme: sometimes, what hides in the ordinary is truly frightening. From campgrounds and apartments to rural properties and road trips, each account explores how the mundane can quickly turn perilous.
[01:09 - 04:57]
[04:57 - 08:38]
[08:39 - 16:16]
[16:17 - 28:14]
[28:14 - 35:44]
[35:45 - 42:58]
[42:59 - 56:26]
| Time | Segment/Story Title | |-----------|--------------------------------------------------------------| | 01:09 | The Man in the Black Coat at the Campsite | | 04:57 | The Tall Stranger at the Bar | | 08:39 | Locked in the Sauna | | 16:17 | Santa Rosa Hitchhiker Murders (True Crime Interlude) | | 28:14 | Road Trip Encounter with ‘Joe’ | | 35:45 | The Garbage Can Watcher | | 42:59 | The Cabin Stranger & Shooting in the Woods |
Even for those who haven't heard the episode, this installment paints a vivid picture of how terror can find its way into the ordinary, be it through a menacing stranger, a trusted authority figure, or inexplicable neighborhood happenings. The stories remind listeners that trust in one's instincts can be lifesaving, and that even the most idyllic settings or routines can quickly become nightmarish. The episode is a masterclass in storytelling: concise, suspenseful, and deeply unsettling.