Loading summary
Transcript10 lines
- [00:00]
Dane
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. This event happened in early 2022. My boyfriend and I had gone out of town for a weekend to attend a Comic Con about five hours away. I was very excited. Excited as I was planning on attending my first meet and greet as well as just being out of town and just exploring a city that we have never been to before. The excitement, however, would soon turn sour. After the five hour drive and a bit of exploring, we were dead tired. We thought it best to go and check into our hotel. We had a lot of things to carry in as we didn't want to leave our purchases in the car to tempt a thief. So we had to take two trips from the car to our room. Once we got checked in and was given the room number and key, we started on the journey to find our room. We ended up being assigned to a room at the other side of the building. Walking down the hall to drop the first load of things off in our room, we passed a room very close to ours that smelled horrible. We had looked at each other with disgusted looks on our faces. It nearly smelled like something had died, but we thought nothing more of it until we went into our room, dropped our things off and came back out to go back outside again. This room was fairly close to ours, only about four doors down, so we didn't have to go very far before we started to hear screaming. The voice sounded young, like a kid. At first we thought it was just maybe an unruly kid throwing a fit, but then we began to understand the Words being shrieked get away from me. Okay, this amped up the worry scale quite a bit. It could still be a kid throwing a fit right then, the blood curdling scream. The terrible, awful scream that still sends chills through my body to this day. The scream that stopped both of us in our tracks right outside of their door. We looked at each other, terror gripping us. After hearing so many horror stories about trafficking, I automatically thought the worst. At that moment, we didn't quite know what to do. Knock on the door and risk getting hurt, call the police, or just alert the front desk. My boyfriend automatically cut down the first idea. There was no way he would put me in danger like that or let me put myself in that scenario. We had also left our phones in our room. Stupid move, I know. But we were just going to the car and coming right back. So we were stuck with the third option, alerting the front desk. Now, normally I have bad anxiety and can barely talk to strangers, but I went straight to the front desk manager while my boyfriend got the rest of our things from the car. I let her know everything we noticed, everything we heard, and how concerned we were. She asked what room number this was. When I told her the number, she seemed to hesitate. I could tell she was about to say something that was going to further my unease. I was right. She told me that it was the same people that had been staying there for quite a while, almost a month. They claimed it was because their house was being repaired or something to that effect, but there were obviously doubts about this. She also said that no housekeeping had been in there to clean because they were always in there and had the do not disturb sign up, not wanting anyone to go inside. What's more disturbing is that I was not the only one to come to the hotel staff with complaints and concerns about these patrons. There had been complaints about the smells coming from the room, as well as what other patrons had described as children throwing fits or being unruly. Now she was having second thoughts on these reports. At this point, my boyfriend had re entered the lobby with the rest of our things and was eager to get back to our room. I went with him, but not before asking the manager what we should do. She could not give me an answer, but promised that she would do a welfare check on the room. I was in no way comforted by this. And when we got back to our respective room, I began to cry with overwhelming dread. That child could just be throwing a tantrum, of course, but what if it was much worse than that? What if the child was actually being hurt and I wasn't doing anything to help them. My boyfriend saw that this was bothering me and suggested that we go ahead and call the police if it would make me feel better. I was torn. I wanted to, but I didn't know if I had the right to do that as I was not on my own property. Leave it to me, the resident overthinker, to think of hotel policies at a time like that. As I was debating with myself, we suddenly heard sirens coming down the road and they seemed to stop right in front of the hotel. We waited for a time, thinking that they had just passed the hotel before my boyfriend went to the lobby to ask about calling the police. While he was gone, I rang my mom and told her what was going on. I didn't want to be alone and I knew that she would calm me down. After a few minutes of talking with her, my boyfriend came back to the room, an astonished look on his face. I put the phone down but kept the call going so my mom could hear what was going on. He explained that as soon as he asked the front desk manager about calling the police, she informed him that the cops had indeed stopped at the hotel concerning the very same room. I reckoned that my concern led her to call the police herself. They went to the room and knocked on the door, announcing themselves and requesting to be let in. That's when the mother of the two children, yes, there was another child mixed up in this mess. An infant, to top it all off, tried to make a break for it and evade capture, completely abandoning the kids. They immediately caught and arrested her along with her partner. They also took the children somewhere safe and out of harm's way. How all of this happened without us hearing a peep, I will never know. All I knew in that moment was sweet relief, knowing that the children were safe. It turns out that the town we were in was inundated with child trafficking cases at the time. Unbeknownst to us, we were just there for a Comic Con. Who would have guessed we would also influence a trafficking bus to as well? Back in 2011, one of my cousins from Guatemala had a horrific car accident. Doctors told her parents to prepare for a funeral. But be it a miracle or my cousin's fighting spirit, she lived elated. I booked a flight to visit her. My uncle lives in this private community. He purchased two pieces of land and built houses. During that time, the housing development in that area wasn't prominent, so neighbors were spread out about 65 yards behind his main house. There's A forested area that is untouched. One evening, my family and I were jumping from topic to topic, having a great time. Now that my cousin was back home. I'm not sure who brought it up, but we started discussing about the paranormal during that time. I was always skeptical about ghosts, spirits, etc. Meanwhile, my family was the opposite. They started to talk about their experiences throughout the years. More recently, they believed they were seeing my grandpa who had passed away. They would see shadows peeking around corners. One day, my uncle looked towards the staircase and saw a shadow outlining what looked to be a man with a hat. My grandfather always wore his hats, even if he was at home. One of the nights I slept in my cousin's room, I heard what sounded like a dog walking around the room. I brought it up in the morning, and apparently that's something that has happened to my cousin as well. My uncle's other house was also pretty active with unexplained things. For example, his back door was banging so aggressively it broke the glass. Mind you, he has walls that are about 12ft tall with barbed wire. There was no one there. Continuing from our conversations, that same evening, my uncle took me for a stroll around the neighborhood. He would point at different houses and tell me what that particular neighbor's paranormal experiences were. Apparently, the land they lived on was active with the paranormal. The sun had already set, and the only light source we had were from sporadic light posts, which was sufficient enough to see. As we're nearing back to his main house, something caught my attention. About 55 yards behind his house is another neighbor. They had two dogs that were barking from the rooftop. And yes, you heard that right? It's common in Guatemala to have dogs on their flat rooftops. Anyway, there was someone or something in front of their house next to a light post. Normally, it wouldn't be a big deal, dogs barking at someone or noise. It's in their nature. But there was something off. At first glance, I thought it was possibly an older lady because it seemed like her back was rounded and she was wearing what looked almost like a cloak. It's uncommon to see an older woman by herself in the evenings, so I pointed it out to my uncle. He glanced over and instantly got goosebumps and told me, that's not a person, that's a spirit. And with that, he went inside his house, curious and still being a skeptic. I lingered outside, still studying this person or thing or whatever it was, Even though it was right next to the light post. I could not make out any details. It was just this bulky black entity. Then it started to move very slightly to its left. It wasn't one swift motion, almost like gliding. Then it started to turn almost translucent. I rubbed my eyes, thinking maybe I stared for too long and was causing irritation. I focused my gaze back at this thing and it was still translucent. It started moving again in that slow, gliding rhythm. Suddenly this thing turned back into a solid black shape and took quick, long, abnormal strides towards the forest. With that, I immediately went inside the house and told my family what I had seen. I've always been more logical and analytical to anything considered paranormal. I guess it's an easier approach as accepting something that can't be explained is terrifying to me. But I just can't say exactly what this was because I've never seen anything like it. I have heard many stories about skinwalkers and kind of juggled with that idea. The weird thing is that I almost feel attached to whatever I saw. I don't want to sound crazy, but it's like I can always feel it at a distance. It's strange to describe, but it feels like its energy still lingers around me. I have had many more strange encounters that probably deserve their own separate stories. This is the first time I have posted a story anywhere. Finally, after more than a decade later, I'm open to getting input on what I saw that evening to hopefully put my mind at ease.
- [13:31]
McAfee Ad
A message from McAfee wondering why the post office is texting you or why you owe thousands of dollars in toll fees because someone's trying to scam you. The good news? McAfee can help with McAfee's award winning scam detection. It's easy to tell what's real and what's fake over text in your inbox and online. If they're FA you want a free gift. Seriously, if they're faking it, they're not making it past us. Get Award Winning scam detection today mcafee.com Keep it real. This is a netsy holiday ad, but you won't hear any sleigh bells or classic carols. Instead, you'll hear something original. The sound of an Etsy holiday which sounds like this. Now that's special. Wanna hear it again? Get original and affordable gifts from small shops on Etsy. For gifts that say I get you shop Etsy tap the banner to shop.
- [14:25]
Dane
Now.
- [14:28]
Experian Ad
It'S okay not to be perfect with finances. Experian is your big financial friend and here to help. Did you know you can get matched with credit cards on the app? Some cards are labeled no Ding Decline, which means if you're not approved, they won't hurt your credit scores. Download the Experian app for free today. Applying for no Ding Decline cards won't hurt your credit scores. If you aren't initially approved, initial approval will result in a hard inquiry, which may impact your credit scores.
- [14:55]
McAfee Ad
Experian.
- [15:03]
Dane
A couple of weeks ago I noticed a smell around mine and my neighbor's property. I had noticed their dog had been gone for a while, so I thought the dog had died and thought nothing of it really. A few more days go by. The smell is getting worse and worse. On the day I found him, I was outside chopping up tree branches from the past few storms while my wife and son were playing in the backyard. The smell at this point had gotten so strong my whole backyard smelled. You could even smell it when you got in the car. In our driveway. My 2 year old son was even making faces of disgust. A friend of mine comes over and started looking for where the smell was coming from. He follows it to my neighbor's yard, but the smell is so strong he almost throws up the doesn't see anything and just gives up his search. My wife at this point is debating on calling the police. I tell her to hold off because what if it's just their dog? I tell her I'm going to hop the fence to see if I can come across it. I was going to go offer to bury it for my neighbors as they are elderly and maybe they just couldn't take care of it properly. So I hopped the fence. This isn't the first time I've smelled death, but this is the worst smell I have ever smelled. I take one step and that's all I needed. Behind their shed was the corpse of a fully grown man slumped over, grey skin, gray eyes staring back at me. He was wearing a red flannel shirt tucked into his blue jeans and work shoes, flies coming out of his mouth, his nose and his ears. My guess is he had been there for about a week in a muggy Georgia heat. I had a T shirt over my face to protect me from the smell, but being that close, I did almost throw up. I ran back to the fence, jumped it quickly, ran to my house and told my wife to call the police. At first I didn't believe my eyes. I told myself there's no way that I actually just found a body. So while my wife made the call, I went back out to the border of the property and shouted out for him, but I got no response. About 45 minutes later, an Officer shows up and I explain what I saw. The officer seemed to not believe me. I wouldn't either. That is until he walks back there himself. I follow along to show him, but before I even get back to the fence, I hear him say, yeah, that's a body. And he calls it in. Two sheriff's cars, three crime scene trucks, an investigator with his car, a coroner van, all show up within the next 10 minutes. I go and give my statement to the investigator and that was that. I talked to my neighbors about everything as well. They noticed the smell, but assumed it was a cat or something. They also explained that they were on vacation for a week, which is when the dog hopped the fence and ran away. They had no idea who this person was or how they got there. Aside from the police, I was the only one who saw the body up close. The image is stuck in my head and plagues my dreams. I can't look in my backyard without thinking about him. It's been a couple weeks now and we still smell him randomly. Sometimes I work with bleach for a living and even at work I smell him. The cops told me that he was a John Doe and an od. It's nice to know my neighbors aren't murderers. But I don't know how to move on. My wife and I are talking about moving early next year, but I honestly feel this is something that will stick with me for the rest of my days. I began cleaning houses after I had my first son. He was a year old and I decided I would like to have a job where I could not only get some good exercise but but bring in a little extra cash to help my husband out. My first job I got was for a family not too far from my house. They had two younger daughters aged four and seven and they kept a pretty clean home. Really nice family, very good at communicating. They were always quick to let me know when and if they needed me to cancel or not. I never had an issue with not knowing what I was going into. Whenever I showed up, I always let myself in with the door code whether they were home or not. And as soon as I would walk in, I would get right to work. Now, the wife of the homeowner was a very neat woman. She really just hired me because she needed a little extra help due to a demanding job. But anytime I came, the house was already pre cleaned for me, meaning the dishes were done, the kitchen was wiped down, clothes were picked up. She made sure her girls cleaned their room so it was easier for me to vacuum and Dust. The house was never in a state of disgustingness or uncleanliness. Well, the other day I showed up at my usual time, on my usual day, letting myself into the house. And it was the complete opposite sight from what I had been seeing for the past year and a half. There were clothes strewn about everywhere. I'm not just talking about in the bedrooms where you would expect them, but all over the living room, all over the hallways. There were toys all about. And yes, that's expected with kids, but at the same time they were in the most bizarre places, like by the dishwasher, under the parents work desks. There was also a big pile of toys on the top of the master bed. Two of the biggest red flags I saw though were plates of food cut up. Food and tea in a kettle getting moldy on the counter. There were fruit and house flies everywhere. So clearly this food had been getting moldy for a while. But I figured maybe they had left in a hurry or something. I had a feeling that they might have been out of town because usually one or both were home for the most part when I came. But what kind of made me confused was that both of their cars were in the garage at the same time, though they could have gotten an Uber or a ride from a friend if they were going somewhere. So I brushed that off. I began my cleaning, scrubbing out the dishes, which I have never had to do before on this job, getting rid of all the moldy food, taking the trash out till it was out of the house, vacuuming as many spiderwebs and flies as I could because they seemed to be everywhere. I cleaned up all the clothes. I put them in their respective rooms and hampers, if their hampers weren't already full. But then I headed to one of their bathrooms and this is where I was even more in shock. There were flies everywhere. A majority of them were dead, but some of them were still flying around the bathroom. There were dead flies, dead fruit flies, some mosquitoes as well. I checked the window. It wasn't even open. There were no openings. The bathroom was sealed. The door had been closed when I got there. So I went along with my cleaning, feeling very unnerved at this point, but figuring if I'm there I might as well just continue. Trying not to allow myself to think this was a crime scene or something. My imagination will occasionally get ahead of me at times. I proceeded to vacuum up all the fly carcasses. I cleaned off all the counters, the bathtub, the toilet, the surrounding area, and tried to vacuum up as much as I could. Usually at the end of all my cleanings, I would text the homeowner and let them know that I was done and he would follow that up with a thank you and would send my payment through Venmo. But when I was finished, I felt really uncomfortable. So I called him to ask if they were maybe out of town or if, you know, something happened, God forbid, and if there was anything I could do to help because clearly the state of their house was not typical. But nobody answered the phone. I called his wife, but she didn't answer either. So I just sent him a text message saying, I'm all done. See you in another two weeks. I haven't gotten paid or gotten a reply in three days, which is not like them at all. So I'm at this point now where I don't know what to do. Should I report this to the police? Should I ask them to give a welfare check or something? Because I'm so confused. I really hope nothing bad happened to them. So good, so good. So good.
- [24:30]
McAfee Ad
New markdowns are on at your Nordstrom Rack store. Save even more. Up to 70% on dresses, tops, boots and handbags to give and get. Cause I always find something amazing. Just so many good brands. I get an extra 5% off with my Nordstrom credit card Total queen treatment. Join the Nordy Club at Nordstrom Rack to unlock our best deals. Big gifts, big perks. That's why you rack.
- [24:55]
Dane
Una silla de masajes puede pares er extravagante ocho configuraciones differentes intensidada justable. El Volkswagen taeguan confuciones premium como los hacientos de lanternos con masaje disponibles solo parese extravagante.
- [25:26]
Jack Daniels Ad
This episode is brought to you by Jack Daniels. Jack Daniels and music are made for each other. They share a rhythm in the craft of making something timeless while being a part of legendary nights. From backyard jams to sold out arenas, there's a song in every toast. Please drink responsibly. Responsibility.org, jack Daniels and Old no. 7 are registered trademarks. Tennessee Whiskey, 40% alcohol by volume. Jack Daniel Distillery, Lynchburg, Tennessee.
- [25:52]
Dane
This happened around six years ago, when I was 15. We were living in a small town in the mountains of Northern California, where my mom grew up and where her family still lives today. My younger cousins, I'll call them Drew and Robbie for the sake of their privacy, were spending the day with us, and my mom decided to take us to see the Nut Job too. In theaters. Drew and I, being several years older than Robbie, weren't totally crazy about seeing a kids movie, but the buttered popcorn was enough to keep us happy. The movie ended around dinner time and my mom offered to get fast food. Since we were already in town and my aunt was due to pick up my cousins an hour later, Robbie asked to go to Burger King, which wasn't my favorite. The the food was alright, but I've always gotten an uncomfortable vibe from that place. The part of town where the restaurant was located was full of sketchy strip malls that bordered the freeway, and it wasn't unusual to find all kinds of colorful characters walking the streets late in the day. Also, that particular Burger King, the only one in our entire town, seemed to be a magnet for strange activity. I remember watching a drunken fist fight on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant one night when I was about 6. So after everyone else in the car reluctantly agreed to go to Burger King, off we went. When we arrived a few minutes later, my mom was preparing to turn into the drive thru when a man heading in our direction crossed the sidewalk in front of the driveway. Looking back, there wasn't anything about this guy that seemed unusual or set off any alarm bells. He was average height, but a little on the heavy side. He had dark curly hair covered by a baseball cap and was wearing a tight fitting white T shirt and dark jeans or sweatpants. Naturally, my mom stopped the car and waited for him to cross the street. When he made it safely to the other side and my mom began to pull in, the man suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. As we made the sharp turn into the small parking lot, this guy turned his whole body around to face us and kept his eyes fixed on my side of the car. The most unnerving part about it, the part that I can still see so vividly in my mind, was his eyes. They were wide open, unnaturally open. I swear it looked like something from the torture scene and A Clockwork Orange. Look it up and you'll see what I mean. I have never seen a person open their eyes so wide in my entire life and like watching a car wreck, I couldn't manage to look away. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or my cousins in the backseat, but at that point I was too creeped out to care. Luckily, I wasn't the only one who noticed. My mom didn't seem especially bothered and said something to the effect of relax dude, I'm not going to run you over. As we passed by him, my cousin drew on the other hand leaned over the back seat to catch another glimpse of the man. Did you see his eyes? He asked. Robby, also curious, tried to turn around and stand up in his booster seat to see the man again. My mom seemed unbothered, but Drew and I were so put off by this guy that we couldn't let it go. The two of us turned around to look out the back window one more time and check if the man was still watching us. Sure enough, he was still standing in the same spot and staring at our car with his enormous eyes. I don't think he even blinked the whole time. At this point, my fight or flight mode was starting to kick in and I wanted nothing more than to get out of there. But then the man did something that sent my heart rocketing up into my throat. He started walking toward us very slowly, still staring dead at us. I really think he made a beeline for our car because the sidewalk on that side of the restaurant curved around behind a small real estate building that was hidden behind cypress trees and I remember seeing this guy very clearly coming straight for us. I jerked my mom's arm and started pointing frantically out the back window. Mom, that guy's following us. My mom turned around in disbelief and I can only assume that seeing the man and Drew's worried expression finally made her realize what was going on. Alright, screw this, my mother said as she took the car out of park and followed the drive thru around the backside of the building where the pickup windows were. I felt myself begin to relax a bit and I was incredibly thankful to be leaving the creepy man in the dust. Or so I thought. We turned the corner and to my absolute horror, the old beat up blue pickup truck was stopped at the window in front of us. The drive thru lane wasn't wide enough for two cars to pass through, so we were forced to sit there and wait until the truck either moved or or the man suddenly reappeared from behind the blind corner less than 20ft away. My mom flipped the door locks and unbuckled her seatbelt, then began digging around in her purse. I knew what she was looking for. She and I had recently bought cans of pepper spray at my father's insistence in case of an emergency. I began to dig around for mine, but as luck would have, wasn't there. My family and I were big hikers and at a minimum I knew we usually kept a pocket knife in the glove compartment. I pulled open the drawer, but it wasn't there. It finally dawned on me that the only thing that could stop this man from getting to Us, if that was his intention, was a glass window. Now, this wasn't my proudest moment, but I kind of started having a freak out. Anyone who has ever felt truly scared or endangered knows the feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins. Sometimes that fear gets the better of you, and you can't stop the emotions from spilling out. As I looked between the blue truck still parked in front of us and the back window of the car, I just remember saying softly, I'm so scared. It wasn't panicked or tearful. It was just like my mouth said the first thing my brain was thinking. My mother whipped around and very angrily told me, lily, stop it. You're scaring Robbie. I'll admit that looking back, I was angry at her for saying that. I know she wanted me to keep a cool head, which is what you should do in situations like this. But it felt like she was telling me I wasn't allowed to feel scared. Besides, I wasn't the only one losing control of myself. Drew reached over, unbuckled Robby's seatbelt, pulled him to his chest, and held onto him tightly to protect him. That should have been more fear inducing than what I said, but Robby actually seemed more curious than scared. I was glad that he was young enough to not know exactly what was happening. All in all, he handled it better than us teenagers. It honestly felt like hours just waiting for that stupid truck in front of us to move. I started getting really angry, even though I knew it wasn't the driver's fault. But it was a horrible time for the people inside the restaurant to be moving so slowly. Just then, my worst fear was realized. The man appeared from around the side of the building. I felt completely hopeless, and I was expecting him to run over and start trying to break into the car at any second. But that didn't happen. That was when I noticed he wasn't staring at us anymore. He was just shuffling very slowly along the sidewalk, looking straight ahead. As the four of us watched him go in tense silence, I started to feel confused. Why wasn't he staring at us anymore? Just minutes before, he was giving us the most unsettling look I had ever seen on a human face. And it looked like he was coming straight for us. What changed? I was starting to think that I had gone crazy. What if I was wrong after all? What if the whole thing was just one big misunderstanding on my part? But as the man climbed the hill to the right of the car, Drew suddenly said, aunt Janet, he's talking to himself. Sure enough, as I looked closer, I could see the man's lips moving as he stared fixedly into the distance. With the car windows closed, I couldn't hear what he was saying. Frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted to get out of there. When the truck in front of us finally pulled forward, my mom hit the gas and drove out of there as quickly as possible. The four of us breathed a sigh of relief as we settled back into our seats and headed to a different restaurant across town. As you can imagine, the weird encounter was the only thing we could talk about for the rest of the night. When my aunt arrived to pick up my cousins, we told her the story. I was surprised, but also grateful that she wasn't upset. Instead, she suggested that the guy was probably on something or had some type of mental disability. Her explanation seemed likely enough, and after about a week, I passed off the incident as just that, just another unhinged tweaker ruining our once safe, amicable small town. I had mostly put the issue to the back of my mind until a few weeks later when my mom brought it up again. One afternoon as we were talking in the living room, she started telling me that she read an article online about a woman and her family who were possibly followed by traffickers in Oakland. I don't remember the whole story, but to summarize, the woman, her husband, and their infant daughter were leaving a football game in Oakland when a man started following them. The woman noticed that the man was talking to himself, and she saw that he was wearing an earpiece. As they got to the car, her husband went to confront the man. While she and her child got safely inside and locked the doors, a car that had been idling nearby suddenly pulled up. The man hopped inside and it tore away. The article warned that human traffickers will sometimes select vulnerable targets, like women going places with their children and communicate with a waiting vehicle nearby through an earpiece. Once in position, the men in the car will jump out and snatch the woman, her child, or both, and they will likely never be seen again. My mom suggested that maybe the man was wearing an earpiece, and by the way, he was looking at us, following the car and talking to himself. He could have been talking to someone in a car waiting nearby. After all, he was wearing a baseball cap and his hair covered his ears. There was no way to tell if he was wearing one. Now, I never heard of any instances of human trafficking in my hometown, so I brushed it off as a wild theory. But the mere suggestion was enough to keep the memory of the incident from leaving my mind to this day, I still have no idea what the man's true intentions were. I only remember the gut wrenching feeling I got when he stared at us with those unnaturally large eyes. Was the guy just another addict? Was he in fact secretly communicating with someone waiting nearby? Was he just angry because he thought we were going to hit him with our car? I just can't seem to explain it, no matter how hard I try, and I know that I'll never get an answer. However, if the man was truly following us, I shudder to think about what could have happened if we had stopped at the menu board or had gotten out of the car and gone into the restaurant. Either way, the incident has taught me to always be aware of my surroundings, trust my instincts, try to keep calm when I feel in danger, and never go anywhere alone without my pocket knife and pepper spray. I'd like to preface this story by acknowledging that the truthfulness or reliability of assignments asylum or escaped mental patients stories tends to be questionable. The reason why I'm skeptical of those stories is that large scale closures of asylums began in 1967 through the 1980s and were completely decommissioned by 2015. So I raise my eyebrow whenever someone talks about spooky asylum stories that happened within the last two decades or so. Still, I will be sharing my story as factually as my memory allows and refrain from exaggerating any aspect. I often visited my grandparents home in Traverse City in northern Michigan during the summers with my parents. Traverse City is a beautiful place, produces 75% of the world's cherries, and was home to the Traverse City Regional Psychiatric Hospital, which operated from 1885 to 1989. Since the United States federal government officially deemed the hospital worthy of preservation for its historical significance, the buildings on the hospital grounds were guarded by patrolling security guards. The Traverse City Psychiatric Hospital was massive, including 70 or 80 buildings of various sizes. Some buildings have now been converted into restaurants, gift shops, tourism traps, cafes, etc. But many remain empty and abandoned. Underneath the hospital is a sprawling brick tunnel system which the hospital staff used to safely transport the patients from building to building in the frigid winter temperatures. I'm sure there were instances where the patients underwent cruel treatments or were subjected to the care of horrible doctors. But the Traverse City Psych Hospital had a great reputation. Many teenagers, including myself at the time, were unashamedly fascinated with the hospital and its history. As a result, we would often break into abandoned buildings through unbarred windows or doors with pickable padlocks. While there were a few cases where teens would get caught and charged with breaking and entering. As long as we were stealthy, stuck to our safe entrances, and paid attention to the guards patrol patterns, we could go in and out without worry. I am not advocating for or trying to justify my criminal act of B and E, but breaking into the old hospital was almost a rite of passage for the Traverse City teens. The hospital's interior was terrifying. There was old stained and broken equipment and furniture, crumbling floors and walls, vandalism, strange old building noises, and complete and utter darkness in the tunnels, basements and lower floors. Using flashlights was too risky with the guards patrolling, so we often navigated the hospital by memory and our dimly lit phone screens. As you can imagine, our frightened youthful imaginations ran wild with horror stories, which is pretty ironic considering we made up most of those stories. Unfortunately, during my last trip inside, I encountered something that terrified me to the point I swore off ever returning. The story takes place around 10pm the moonlight was dim and most patrol guards left for the day. Clad in black, my friend Jason and I entered through the same window we always used and followed our regular path to one of the tall jutting spires to sit by the windows that overlooked the entire city. There was only one thing different about this venture from the others a new, faint and unexplainable smoky odor. Not smoky like fire, but something more akin to incense. The smell was so faint we almost thought we were imagining it, but it grew stronger as we got closer to our destination. Rather than taking the stairs that led up to the spire, we followed the smell down to a different hallway until we reached a room with a deep red glow emanating from the doorway. Rather than doing the smart thing by leaving immediately, we couldn't resist the urge to walk closer and investigate. When we finally reached the room, I audibly gasped and felt Jason grip my wrist so hard his nails left marks on my skin. We found a large ring of red votive candles and burning incense circling a drawing of a pentagram with a sigil of Baphomet. In the center of the drawing was a dead, bloodied bird surrounded by black feathers. Bear in mind that I was raised devoutly Catholic, so seeing this image filled me with a sense of fear, stronger and more paralyzing than any ghost sighting ever could. Later on that night, Jason told me I immediately started mumbling prayers, but I personally don't remember doing that. I wouldn't be too terribly surprised, though. While the duration felt infinite, I'm not sure how long we stared at the occult scene before hearing a man's low and ominous voice behind us saying, welcome friends. I promise you that there was absolutely nothing friendly about the way that guy greeted us. Jason and I screamed bloody murder, whipped around and saw two nicely dressed but frazzled looking adult men smiling at us. The man in front of me held something in his hand and while I can't say for sure what it was, I remember thinking that it was a knife at the time, which wouldn't be too crazy of a guess considering they recently sacrificed a bird or what looked like a real bird. Jason and I sprinted past the two and I felt someone's fingers grab the back of my shirt. Thankfully, the occultist's hand didn't have a solid hold on me because I ducked and managed to escape his grip. The men shouted for us to stop running, which we obviously didn't. We heard their footsteps chasing after us for a little while, but thankfully Jason and I had broken into the hospital so many times that running through the unlit rooms, hallways, and tunnels was no challenge. When we finally reached and vaulted through our escape window, the occultists were nowhere to be seen or heard. We kept running through the hospital grounds until we reached Jason's car with no concern for the patrol guards. We would have rather gotten caught by the guards than the occultists. I puked twice in the parking lot. Whether the cause was fear sprinting non stop for a mile and a half, or a combination of both, I'm not sure what would have happened if the occultists caught us, but I know for sure they weren't going to crack open a beer and sing Kumbaya by the candlelight. I'm not familiar with cultic practices or satanic rituals, so I'm not sure what the men were trying to do or if they were summoning something. Jason and I never returned to the hospital during that summer or any of the following summers. While we aren't close now that we're adults, I know that horrifying experience will keep us cemented in each other's memories until we die.