Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 299 - December Scary

Summary

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Scary Stories For A Rainy Night

Episode 299 — December Scary
Podcast: Scary Stories and Rain
Host/Narrator: Being Scared (Dane)
Date: December 6, 2025
Rain Ambience Throughout

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Episode Overview

This December episode features several unsettling, true horror stories, told in the host's signature calm, evocative narration, accompanied by gentle rain sounds. The stories delve into urban exploration gone wrong, haunted houses, life-threatening encounters with dangerous strangers, and the terrifying intrusion of evil into ordinary lives. Each story builds suspense, relying on detail and first-person accounts, creating the perfect unsettling experience for a cold, rainy night.

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Story 1: The Paris Catacombs Nightmare

[02:40 – 14:03]

Key Points & Insights

• A young, thrill-seeking narrator is lured by friends Zach and Sebastian into the forbidden tunnels of the Paris Catacombs.
• Entry is achieved through a rumored, unsealed sewer entrance; the dangers and illegality of this are made clear.
• The group initially experiences excitement and awe, marveling at the bones and history (“The Paris catacomb was an incredible gallery of macabre art.” [08:06]).
• Tension escalates as eerie sounds and an oppressive atmosphere set in.
• Zach wanders off, soon screaming for help. Searching for him, the narrator and Sebastian experience an unearthly terror.
• They are confronted by a grotesque, bone-and-muscle centipede monstrosity with a human skull for a head.
• In panic, they attempt to flee, using luminescent paint marks to guide their escape route.
• Amid the chaos, Sebastian vanishes. The narrator escapes alone but is forever changed and wracked with guilt.

Notable Quotes

• On entering forbidden places:
  “All my rebellious mind had in my head was everything forbidden tasted better.” ([04:37])
• First encounter with the ossuary’s horror:
  “The walls were lined with stacked skulls and human bones, forming grotesque and frightening images… I couldn’t help feeling that I was being watched through the hollow eyes of hundreds of skulls.” ([07:30])
• Confronting the supernatural horror:
  “Before me was a creature that could only be described as something resembling a giant centipede, made up mostly of several bones… In place of its head was a massive human skull with large sharp teeth stained red.” ([11:16])
• Survivor’s remorse:
  “That experience changed me forever. I will never be the same fearless adventurer I was before. I managed to escape with my life, but the price I paid for my recklessness was high. I lost my best friends, and now I live with this bitter and deserved guilt for the rest of my life.” ([14:03])

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Story 2: The Haunted Victorian Apartment

[16:04 – 26:09]

Key Points & Insights

• Newly expecting parents move into the upper unit of an old Victorian house converted into apartments.
• The narrator experiences uncanny events his very first night—footsteps, creaking floorboards, and the oppressive sense of a presence—but dismisses them as the house settling.
• The family grows, moves into the whole house, and more disturbances follow: the narrator hears the same footsteps during the day when alone.
• The most chilling moment arrives via the baby monitor: a gruff man’s voice is heard talking to the baby, in a moment that deeply unsettles both parents.
• The encounter forces the narrator to finally reveal all his experiences to his wife.

Notable Quotes

• On initial rationalization:
  “I figured it was something I would eventually get used to and learn to tune out as time went on.” ([18:16])
• The moment of intrusion:
  “Over the speaker I heard an unmistakable voice, gruff and low, as if a man was standing by the speaker talking to our baby. Did you hear that? I asked, jolting up and looking at my wife. Yes, what is that? She replied. It’s a man.” ([24:39])
• Giving in to fear:
  “I was already having a hard time sleeping away from my son, but now, for the time being, I think I’ll go back to sleeping on the floor upstairs. If you want to call it sleep.” ([26:09])

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Story 3: The Man Behind the Dumpster

[27:57 – 36:26]

Key Points & Insights

• 24-year-old female assistant manager recounts a night shift at a suburban North Carolina convenience store.
• Tasked with taking out garbage, she discovers a man behind the dumpster, knife in his teeth, apparently “sawing into something” with blood everywhere.
• A terrifying standoff ensues; the man grins and pursues her, but she manages to get back inside and call police while he bangs on the door, yelling in an unknown language.
• Police arrive, finding bloody footprints but no suspect—only blood and a knife.
• The man is soon apprehended—he had killed and was dismembering a victim, intending to silence the witness.
• The assailant returns to the store days later, asking for the narrator by name; her quick-thinking coworker prevents giving him any information.

Notable Quotes

• On facing real danger:
  “Until you must handle yourself, do you truly know if you can or cannot?” ([28:13])
• Standoff with the killer:
  “He grinned, the knife still stationed between his teeth, and began standing… I backed away faster, timing when I was going to turn and run for my life.” ([33:02])
• Aftermath:
  “His pursuit of me was to make sure I saw nothing and was to ensure that if I did or didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to talk about what I had seen or had not seen.” ([34:50])

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Story 4: Night Intruder in Long Island

[36:54 – 42:37]

Key Points & Insights

• 14-year-old Nick relates a terrifying home invasion during a sleepover with friends John and David in suburban Long Island.
• Awoken in the night by banging at the door, the group witnesses a man in a hospital gown with a butcher knife attempting to break in.
• Too shocked at first to call for help, they hide as the man enters the house and searches for them.
• In a climactic confrontation, John stabs the intruder in the neck with a pocketknife they’d kept for safety; the kids flee to a neighbor’s, who calls the authorities.
• The police find and arrest the mysterious man, who has no record or apparent history.

Notable Quotes

• On terror’s grip:
  “Feeling utterly helpless, we heard footsteps coming up the stairs toward our room… If one of us didn’t act fast, it would be over.” ([40:53])
• Resolution:
  “To this day, we have no idea who he was. He had no record in any nearby hospitals. No record at all. No family, no friends, no home. It was as if he just appeared out of nowhere.” ([42:10])

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Story 5: A Predatory Encounter in St. Catharines

[45:44 – 56:07]

Key Points & Insights

• A 16-year-old narrator in a safe-feeling part of St. Catharines, Ontario, decides on a midnight walk to the store.
• He’s approached by a suspicious, desperate man who asks for a smoke and then tries to lure him into a wooded park to “help move a TV.”
• The narrator employs quick thinking and white lies to disengage, but the stranger’s persistence and final comment—“16… Ah, never mind. You’re too young for me anyway.”—reveal sinister intent ([55:16]).
• He escapes safely, but as he leaves the store in an Uber, he glimpses the man watching the sidewalk—waiting for another potential victim.

Notable Quotes

• When trouble reveals itself:
  “I must have looked visibly scared at this point because he started to double down… and he had a grin that was now showing slightly from beneath his scruffy facial hair.” ([54:07])
• Chilling final words:
  “16… Ah, never mind, never mind. You’re too young for me anyway.” ([55:16])
• Cautionary realization:
  “I will never go out that late again.” ([56:07])

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Memorable Moments

• The use of environmental sounds—rain, distant thunder—was especially effective at immersing the listener and amplifying tension.
• The catacombs monster was a standout for both its imaginative horror and its metaphor for the unforeseen dangers of reckless exploration.
• The baby monitor incident brought an everyday, relatable fear to chilling life with understated but haunting delivery.
• The story in which a hostile stranger attempts to lure a teen walks a fine line between urban legend and real, daily peril, resonating with the show’s ethos of “true accounts.”

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Episode Flow & Tone

• The narration is calm, detail-rich, and designed to unsettle gradually, never descending into theatricality or exploitation.
• The rain and atmospheric background act as a comforting counterpoint to the stories’ unease, heightening the sense of being safe—but only just—while listening.

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Timestamps for Key Stories

• Paris Catacombs: [02:40 – 14:03]
• Haunted Apartment: [16:04 – 26:09]
• Dumpster Killer: [27:57 – 36:26]
• Long Island Intruder: [36:54 – 42:37]
• St. Catharines Predator: [45:44 – 56:07]

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Final Thoughts

This episode is a perfect example of why Scary Stories and Rain sustains its popularity: authentic narration, well-paced suspense, and firsthand details balanced by a somber, reflective tone. The stories chosen for December run the gamut from supernatural horror to chilling true crime, all united by a thread of ordinary people suddenly thrust into the extraordinary.

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For those who need a dose of dread with their rain-soaked nights, episode 299 delivers memorable stories and lasting goosebumps.

Transcript

[A]

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.

[B]

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[A]

I'm making this record as a warning to all who may come across it.

Never, never attempt to enter the catacombs of Paris through Secret passageways that lie hidden beneath the streets of the city. For within those dark and winding tunnels, there is something inexplicable and evil that resides. The forbidden tunnels lurking beneath the City of Light. First, I would like to point out that the people I will mention here have had their names changed with the intention of protecting their memories and their identities. I hope that my decision is understood and respected by all. With that in mind, I will now begin the account of my Paris catacomb experience that forever marked my life. Like any other young person my age, I was very adventurous and loved exploring unknown places, always looking for thrills and challenges. My parents were always very strict with me, forbidding me to go to places they considered inappropriate, like parties and going out with friends. I felt trapped, like I was being deprived of experiencing the outside world like other young people, which only fueled even more of the desire to venture outside the limits imposed on me. Like any other young person my age, I became rebellious. I lied to my parents that I was going somewhere, but I was breaking into an abandoned house or exploring some tunnel or underground cave with my friends who shared the same interests. But that wasn't enough. I wanted to go further, see new things, and feel more of that butterflies in my stomach that only adventure can provide. That's why when my friend Zach called me and said that he had discovered a location on an unsealed sewer entrance to the Catacombs of Paris, I was all for it. If you've never heard of this place or have only a brief acquaintance, the Paris Catacombs are a gigantic underground network of tunnels and galleries that extend for about 300 km under the city of Paris, France. The catacombs, originally built as quarries around the 18th century, were turned into public ossaries in the late 18th century and are currently visited by tourists as a historical and cultural attraction. The catacombs contain the remains of millions of skeletons who were moved there after the city's cemeteries closed. Due to their age and fragility, the catacombs have strict access rules to protect cultural heritage and the safety of visitors. In addition, the catacombs are a real underground labyrinth. It's not difficult to get lost in there. For these reasons, visits are highly regulated and controlled. Entering the Paris Catacombs beyond the permitted areas for visitation was strictly prohibited. Violating this rule could result in fines and other legal penalties. I should have stopped there, but at that time, all my rebellious mind had in my head Was everything forbidden? Tasted better. We called another friend, Sebastian, and started planning everything. When are we going? What would we Take. And how would we not get lost? The last one was solved by Zach. We would use luminescent paints. And yes, when I look back, I realize how stupid this all was from the start. I don't remember what lie I told my parents, but they believed it. And I was able to meet my two friends without any problem.

Entering the catacombs of Paris through a secret entrance in the sewers was always going to be the adventure of a lifetime. I was very excited and looking forward to this adventure, so different from the ones I've done before. Zach led the way. He took us down to the sewer, where the entrance to the ossuary is said to be. It took us about 20 minutes to find that entrance, because Zach actually didn't know of a location at all. He just heard a rumor that there was an entrance here. The entrance was narrow and dark, with only a shaft of light coming in through the crack at the top. Zach was the first to enter, followed by me and Sebastian. We managed to smell the strong and unpleasant smell of sewage in our nostrils, but that didn't stop us from moving forward. It was then that we saw a steep staircase leading even deeper. We walked down the stairs cautiously, carefully, watching each step that we took. The sound of water running through the pipes echoed throughout the place, but that didn't bother me. After all, I was focused on finding something new. We arrived in a huge underground room with dirty, damp walls and a slippery floor. The flashlights we carried illuminated only a small part of the room, and the surrounding darkness made it even more frightening. At first, I wasn't sure if we were entering the ossuary or if it was just one of those sewer corridors. But then our flashlight beams began to reveal a few bones here and there, until entire walls adorned with bones and human skulls gave us a macabre welcome. As we made our way deeper into the catacombs, the air grew stale and musty. The damp walls seemed to close in around us, and the darkness was all consuming. But instead of feeling afraid, we feel like those brave YouTubers with channels aimed at urban explorers who enter forbidden places like this. And that was amazing. The Paris catacomb was an incredible gallery of macabre art. It was impossible to deny the morbid beauty of that place. The walls were lined with stacked skulls and human bones, forming grotesque and frightening images. I couldn't help feeling that I was being watched through the hollow eyes of hundreds of skulls. I grabbed my cell phone and started filming around, capturing every detail of the historic structures, until an eerie sound echoed through the Dark tunnels. Everything was silent until Zach said, relax. It must have just been a car passing overhead. He emphasized his statement by pointing to the ceiling above us. We relaxed after that. Zach's words made sense. We were somewhere under the city after all. There couldn't be anything here. The sound could only have come from the surface. As time went on, my earlier enthusiasm was turning into another feeling, which I refused to show to my friends as I didn't want to tarnish my facade of a great and courageous adventurer. But I couldn't deny that little voice telling me something was wrong was getting louder. Filming Sebastian walking side by side to a wall full of piled up human bones as he said, look at this. This is so cool. Helped me to recover a little. Until then. I noticed Zach enter a different corridor and move further and further away. Zach, don't go wandering around aimlessly. You know it's easy to get lost around here. I shouted. But Zach just responded with his typical arrogance. Easy, Mom. I just want to take a look around these holes. I'll be right back. I rolled my eyes and continued filming Sebastian. I was used to Zack's habit of drifting away from the group and somehow never getting lost. It was from that point on that our adventure turned into a nightmare. Suddenly, Zach screamed from one of the hallways, causing me and Sebastian to turn around in alarm. I shouted his name and shined the flashlight on all the corridor entrances nearby, but I couldn't find him. Then sounds like bones creaking, clicking and clinking echoed through the galleries, making my blood run cold. Zach, this isn't funny, man. I yelled loudly as I shined every entrance I could see, believing Zach was purposely trying to scare us. And then I realized that Sebastian was frozen, looking with eyes filled with utter terror in my direction. More specifically behind me. And then I heard a low, inhuman snarl. Slow and terrified, I turned around. The flashlight shook in my hands, but I kept the grip as tight as I could to illuminate whatever was behind me. I had explored many unknown places in my life. I saw so many things, so many stories to tell. But never, never had I ever seen anything like it before. Before me was a creature that could only be described as something resembling a giant centipede, made up mostly of several bones of various widths and thicknesses and what appeared to be exposed tendons and muscles. In place of its head was a massive human human skull with large sharp teeth stained red, whose origin I refused to believe. That gigantic thing moved slowly with its many twisted legs towards us, staring at us with large, empty eye sockets as it rose with the front part of its long body until it surpassed our height and almost touched the ceiling. For a moment, we simply stood, stared, unable to believe what we were seeing, until the grotesque creature released a high pitched screeching sound that made us shiver to the bone. We ran without looking back, trying to keep a strong and steady pace, following the luminous paint that Zach used to mark the way to the exit. But it was then that we heard the creature's heavy footsteps and its jaws grinding that the adrenaline took over my body. I dropped the backpack to get rid of the weight, and Sebastian did the same. At some point in the panic, I lost my flashlight and cell phone too, but at that moment, material things did not matter. Miraculously, I managed to make my escape to the exit, but when I looked back to see if the creature was still following me, I realized with horrible horror that Sebastian was no longer behind me. I headed back to the entryway again, even though all my instincts told me not to. I screamed Sebastian's name as loud as my lungs would allow, but the darkness only answered me with silence.

That experience changed me forever. I will never be the same fearless adventurer I was before. I managed to escape with my life, but the price I paid for my recklessness was high. I lost my best friends, and now I live with this bitter and deserved guilt for the rest of my life.

[B]

Close your eyes, exhale, feel your body relax, and let go of whatever you're carrying today. Well, I'm letting go of the worry that I wouldn't get my new contacts.

[A]

In time for this class.

[B]

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[A]

When we moved into our new apartment, we were relieved to finally be out of the market for a rental property. Times had been really tough and the struggle many people face just trying to find adequate housing in our country is intense. The apartment was small, but it was sufficient for the time being. It was the top unit of an old Victorian house that had been converted into duplexes decades ago. The exterior facade spoke of a different era than the interior, and subtle hints of the apartment's age were evident if you looked closely, namely in the width of the stairwells, the style of the doors, the layout of the piping, and the way the house carried sound and echoed as it settled in the otherwise calm dead of night. As our family was growing, the timing of it all couldn't have worked out better for us. However, we soon began to realize that something strange was happening in our new home. I had come up to look for work and find us a place to stay when we received the news that we were expecting our first child. Leaving home in the seventh month of my wife's pregnancy was one of the hardest and most emotionally demanding things I have ever done, but I'm glad to say that in the end it was the right decision for us and it worked out perfectly. I got the news that we had secured the apartment on the very day that we were were informed of the induction date for labor. It was all so perfectly timed and I had enough notice to comfortably make it back home and be there for my wife and our upcoming child. Everything went smoothly and before we knew it, we were the proud parents of a beautiful little boy with bright blue eyes and hair that would eventually settle on a pale strawberry blonde. He was and is perfect, and I am intensely proud of both my son and the work we did to prepare for his arrival. After the delivery, I stayed the night in the hospital with my wife. At 6:30 in the morning, I took the world's most expensive Uber ride from London, Ontario to Niagara on the lake to go to work early that afternoon and meet up with a realtor the next day for the code to the lockbox that held the keys to our unit. When I got the keys, I spent the first night alone in the house. It was just me in the upper unit for about 10 days while my wife Prepared to move in from a few counties away. On that first night, I slept on a mattress on the floor that I had picked up from a local big box store, along with a few essentials and odds and ends to tide me over until my family arrived with the rest of our belongings. In the dark silence of the living room where I was sleeping, I heard what seemed like a knocking sound in the stairwell leading to the main door of the unit. I couldn't be sure, but it registered in my mind as footsteps, the kind made by a hard soul stepping slowly up our side stairs and stuff. Stopping at the door, I went to check, but found nothing. The stairway was empty and darker than any other part of the unit, though still light enough from the moonlight peeking through the windows to confirm that there was indeed nothing there. I went back to bed half asleep and convinced myself that I was just hearing things, that it was an old house that I wasn't used to and the sounds would eventually soften as the house settled. I figured it was something I would eventually get used to and learn to tune out as time went on. About 20 minutes later, as I lay in bed, I began to hear a shuffling at the door on the other side. With my back facing the doorway and my ears attuned to the direction of the stairwell, I started to notice the sound of footage footsteps again, only this time they were silent, more deliberately placed and softened, as if someone was trying to sneak. I didn't dare move a muscle as I listened. The steps came right about where my mattress was and I could still hear the presence of someone standing right next to my mattress. The sound of feet weighing down on the creaking floorboards while standing in place. It displaced creaking made only by a person or living thing standing over the old floor. I didn't hear anyone come in. I knew it was impossible for someone to be standing there right next to me in my living room, so I lay there with my eyes closed and pretended to sleep. Eventually, the fear feeling a presence, seemed to vanish. I slowly inched my head around and opened my eye a crack to examine the room. I was indeed the only one in the room. I didn't leave my bed for the rest of the night and eventually drifted off to sleep, waking up to the sun beaming through the east side windows, the distant hum of traffic on the highway, and the chirping of morning birds, and the trees lining the laneways. The year went by quickly and many good things happened. Just under two weeks later, my family was together again and we quickly settled into our new house and adjusted to city life. We celebrated our first Halloween together, dressing our son up as a little skunk, and had our first Christmas as a family, which was a magical experience that I look forward to repeating as the years go by. There weren't many creepy encounters, just the usual bumps and creaks in the night, which I still told myself was just the house settling. A year passed and we received the news that my wife was pregnant again. Excited, though a bit financially stressed, I sprang into action as the responsible father to our good fortune. We discovered that the tenants below us would be moving out at the end of August. I quickly jumped at the opportunity and asked the landlord, with whom we had built a good rapport, if we could take over the whole property. We now have a full house and more than enough space for our growing family. Despite money worries and growing pains, it is a beautiful house and having the entire property to ourselves is a refreshing contrast from sharing the building with other tenants. There's a front parlor adjoining the master bedroom and enough space for a small workshop for me in the basement. I eagerly set up my woodworking shop and other hobbies. My wife and I finally had a full bedroom to ourselves and moved into the main floor bedroom. We were a little anxious about being separated from the baby as we slept, but a baby monitor resolved that issue. We got the best model that we could afford and set it up close to his crib with the speaker next to our bed downstairs in the master bedroom. One day early in our rental of the whole house, I was downstairs alone organizing the basement to set up my workshop when I noticed the unmistakable pattern of hard soled shoes walking on the hardwood floors above. It sounded exactly like the footsteps that I had heard on the first night I spent alone in the house a year ago, but this time it was coming from the main floor and occurring in broad daylight. I quickly headed up the stairs and checked all the then unfurnished rooms and like on that first night, found them just as empty as I expected. I was alone and my son was upstairs fast asleep after being put down for his nap. Maybe I'm just stressed about the change again, I told myself and went back downstairs to finish up what I had planned for the day. I mentioned it to my wife, who didn't think much of it. She had heard all those pops and creaks before too, but I had never told her about the presence I felt on the first night. I didn't want to freak her out and I couldn't confirm whether it was the house settling, an intruder or something else.

Then one night about a week later, my thoughts began to change and I started to believe that we might not be alone in the house. We were sitting in silence and the master bedroom, scrolling through social media and listening to the sounds of our son on the baby monitor when the speaker began to hiss with loud static and crackle before returning to the usual sounds of the nursery on the top floor. Over the speaker I heard an unmistakable voice, gruff and low, as if a man was standing by the speaker talking to our baby. Did you hear that? I asked, jolting up and looking at my wife. Yes, what is that? She replied. It's a man. We both quickly sprang out of bed and ran up the stairs to his room, finding him sitting upright, playing, blowing spit bubbles and babbling away, nonchalant and carefree. I don't know what I heard, but I had been sleeping in the nursery for the past couple of days. I was never a huge believer, but now I'm not sure what to think. The thought of a stranger being alone with my son disturbed us both deeply. After that, I told my wife everything. The footsteps on the first night, the presence. Everything.

I was already having a hard time sleeping away from my son, but now, for the time being, I think I'll go back to sleeping on the floor upstairs. If you want to call it sleep.

[B]

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[A]

I'm 31 and though I may not be considered old to tell you guys this this story, I have to take you back Years ago. At the time of this incident, I will call it, I was 24, working for a popular convenience store chain in my area. I had managed to make my way up the promotional ladder to assistant manager and a lot of the times I was the closing manager on duty. Not an issue typically. Well, I was employed in a suburban area of North Carolina and my store didn't close until 10pm I'd worked plenty of closing shifts myself. Despite the climbing crime rate in my area, I'm the type of female that thinks of herself as someone who can handle herself. One night though, this would all change for me. Because until you must handle yourself, do you truly know if you can or cannot I came into work that Friday at my normal shift start time of 3pm and was scheduled as usual to close. My last employee would end his shift at 8pm Typically after that time there was nothing really to do in the store except for front face cleaning, other closing duties. Once those were finished, though, I found myself spending free time on my phone until locking up and clocking out. Part of the closing duties was always taking the trash out to the dumpster behind the store. This night was no different. Aside from the creepy darkness, the backlot was illuminated by one light in the back of the parking lot. I had never had any issues with taking the trash out and none of my employees had ever reposted having issues either. This night would prove to be very different. As I approached the dumpster and threw in the bags of trash, I heard a squelching sound. The obvious sound of, in my mind, an animal possibly eating something. Maybe another animal. So I grabbed a long stick and was going to use it to hit the side of the dumpster and frighten away the animal I thought was there. I stepped to the side and peeked around around the back corner of the dump and made eye contact with a man crouched down, looking over his shoulder with a knife in his teeth. We locked stairs. As we stared, he continued to cut into something. No, I shouldn't say cut. He was sawing into something shrouded in the darkness and producing a lot of blood. Not wasting time, I maintained eye contact with him as I backed away slowly, not taking my eyes off him. He grinned, the knife still stationed between his teeth, and began standing. I still had no idea what he was sawing into. Honestly, I wasn't trying to spend much time figuring it out. Still, eyes locked, I backed away. Faster timing when I was going to turn and run for my life into the store and lock it. About halfway through the back lot, this man, now on his feet, eyes still locked, he began walking towards me. When I made my decision to run, it was like he had read my mind and charged. I took off with every bit of speed I could muster and made it to the back door of the store and into it, shutting it right as he reached the door himself. Locking the door and setting the alarm, I dug my phone out of my pockets and called the police. All the while this stranger is banging on the door of the store, yelling in some sort of odd language, one I have never heard before. About 20 minutes later, as I was hiding between the aisles and the store because the entire front of the store was all glass, glass windows, and my creep of a new friend could see me right through them. Should he look, there was a tapping sound on the glass door. At first I froze, remembering that dumpster dude had a knife and that sound seemed quite like what a knife would sound like if someone were to tap it against a glass surface. But soon after the sound, an officer announced his presence and I slowly crept from my dark hiding spot to see three local police officers there with flashlights. I went to the door and let them in, explaining as we made our way to the back of the store that the guy had quit banging and yelling quite some time ago and I didn't think that he was still there. There was no chance, though, that he was able to clean up everything from behind the dumpster in the short amount of time that it was quiet. I turned the alarm off and unlocked and opened the back door for them to go out. I followed behind, letting my curiosity of what they would find guide me. One of the officers asked me to point them in the direction of the area that I had seen the man. I pointed to the only dumpster in the lot, telling them that the man was crouched behind it, sawing into something that was producing a lot of blood. Just as I finished explaining this, the officer next to me said to the others, y' all take a look at this. As he shone his light on the asphalt of the parking lot, we could all make out the very clear impressions of bare human footprints in what seems to be a brownish red liquid going across the lot to the store and fading out about a quarter of the way back from the store to the dumpster. I guess trying to rule out if I was playing some cruel joke, two of the three officers pointed their flashlights at my feet, seeing that I was definitely wearing my non slip black work tennis shoes and no blood was apparent anywhere on my person. Approaching the dumpster, an officer placed himself in front of me and they all three drew their weapons and one shouted in a very official and stern voice, police officer. I know you're back there. Show yourself now. Come out with your hands up.

No one came out and no sounds were made. Turning the corner, the officers all sighed in unison as they came upon a pool of blood, a knife and no person. There was no animal, no body, nothing. Just blood and a lot of it. They marked off the scene with the yellow crime scene tape and began gathering evidence, eventually allowing me to leave. After writing down my statement and what I had witnessed and went through, the man behind the dumpster was apprehended a couple days later in his home, which was only a few miles behind the store. He was arrested and questioned. Apparently after hours of interrogation, the man admitted to abducting and killing someone within his trailer park and what I witnessed was the dismemberment of them. His pursuit of me was to make sure I saw nothing and was to ensure that if I did or didn't, I wouldn't be able to talk about about what I had seen or had not seen. Following this incident, I refused to close that store alone again, and willingly. My store manager agreed. It wasn't long after this, though, that I took a position within the same company, just at another store in what seems to be a safer area. All I know is that I am glad they caught this man because this man was looking for me. He was apprehended a few hours after coming into the store and asking the on duty cashier for me by name. Knowing the situation, the cashier then and now, a close friend of mine called in the suspicious man asking for me by name. He was trying to get her to tell him when I worked again, if I work often, and for my phone number. Thank goodness she's one of the smarter ones and understood there's policy in place that prohibits the release of that information to anyone.

[B]

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[A]

At the time, I was just a 14 year old boy living on Long Island, New York. Hi, my name is Nick. I still I still live on Long island, but a few towns away from where this traumatic event happened. It took place at my childhood home. I won't specify the exact location, but let's just say I lived in the suburbs. Not deep in the woods, but surrounded by plenty of nature and trees. It was a beautiful and no, I mean beautiful summer night. I remember looking up at the clouds, gazing for hours and talking with my two friends, John and David. John and David were just like me. They loved the outdoors and were amazed by the smell of pine. It was the night of a sleepover that we had planned for weeks. Our plan was to go outside at 9 o', clock, watch a scary movie on my TV, and then when the movie was over, go back inside, relax, and most likely fall asleep for the night. Before we knew it, the movie was over and we were ready to get into our pajamas and head upstairs to my bedroom and the two sofas. We fell asleep very quickly. In fact, I don't think it was even 11 o' clock before we hit the hay. I guess we were tired. I Woke up at 2:21 in the morning with a tap on my shoulder. It was David. Annoyed, I said, what do you want Nick? There's someone banging on your door. David said, it's probably just my parents coming home from the party, remember? I said, folding the blanket back over my head, thinking that David and John were just overreacting. Nick, I know your parents. This man is not your dad. When he said there was only one man, my heart sank. My mom and dad had gone to a party and left us home alone for the sleepover. They wouldn't come home separately, they would come home together. Concerned, I got up and saw that John was also standing outside my window, looking down at the door. I saw a shadow at the door. I rubbed my eyes and then saw who was. It was a man who appeared to be in his early 30s or 40s, wearing a hospital gown banging on the door. We said nothing as we watched the man continue to bang on the door. Scared and confused, we were too stunned to call the police. After about five more minutes, the man stopped. He turned as if he was going to leave, but halfway down my driveway, he stopped, stopped and pulled out a butcher knife from a pocket in his gown. After pulling out the weapon, he turned back to the door and began stabbing at the screen. Our hearts were in our throats. In a daze, we were too shocked to call the police for help. To this day, I have no idea how he managed what he was about to do. Somehow he. He got the door open and walked into the house. Since our bedroom door was closed, we had no idea where he was going. At this point, we called the police and told them what was going on. We were all crying and trying not to make any noise. Feeling utterly helpless, we heard footsteps coming up the stairs toward our room. The only thing that we had to defend ourselves was a small pocket knife that I had behind for myself when I was in the Boy Scouts. We heard the steps getting closer and closer. Since we were only 14, our only thought was to hide. We hid behind the door so that if he came in, we could attack. Sure enough, he came face to face with the door. He kicked it open and went to my bed, looking under the covers to see if anyone was there. This was a life or death situation. If one of us didn't act fast, it would be over. John grabbed the pocket knife from my hand and stabbed the man in the neck. He let out a screech so loud it felt like my eardrums were going to burst. He fell over screaming in pain. We all kicked him in the ribs repeatedly, the chest, the neck, until he was knocked out. We then ran as fast as we could to the nearest house for cover. My neighbor's house. They stayed up late, so I knew they would be awake. We banged on their door and explained what was happening. When they opened, they let us in and we watched the police arrive. Moments later, they ran into the house, grabbed the man and put him in handcuffs. As the police dragged him out, we saw that he was awake. He looked at us and started laughing and smiling while holding his neck. We stared at him, unable to say anything. We just watched as the man was taken away. To this day, we have no idea who he was. He had no record in any nearby hospitals. No record at all. No family, no friends, no home. It was as if he just appeared out of nowhere. The man is locked away, hopefully for a long time. John and David are still my friends, but we never had a sleepover alone again.

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[A]

When I was 16 years old, I had an encounter on the streets that to this day. Today I consider the single most unsettling experience of my life. I live in southern Ontario in a medium sized city called St. Catharines. Located near the US Border, Niagara Falls and the nearby Great Lakes, Erie and Ontario, the city earned the nickname the Garden City due to its numerous parks, trails and gardens scattered throughout. As such, many parts of the town are shaded by tree cover and adjoin various woodlots. Fantastic for a daytime stroll, but usually home to some of the city's vagrants and drug addicts. At night, most of the town is quite nice, with the Niagara region boasting significant infrastructure development. The downtown area, lively with Brock University and Niagara College College students, has a bustling nightlife that was a lot of fun. However, like any tourist destination or university town, gentrification often results in pockets of forgotten poverty on the city's fringes, much like dust swept under a dorm room rug. All in all, it was a great place to grow up. It could be rough at times, but so can any other town or or city if you look hard enough. I was raised to be aware of the dangers of addiction and the immorality of some of the seedier parts of town, and it never really bothered me. Up until the time these events took place, I was blissfully ignorant of what that truly meant. Years later, as I recount what happened, I realized it didn't bother me because because until then it had not affected me in the slightest. If you were walking through town at any time and happened to pass someone in a mental health crisis screaming at passersby or themselves, you knew to keep your head down or fiddle with your phone to avoid engaging. If you were the target of their ramblings, you would quickly be replaced by the next passerby or visual stimulus. In their unhinged state of mind, it may sound cold, but there are far too many sad cases in most cities for them to be your problem. You have to keep your safety and schedule in mind. If you stopped to help or engage with everyone you felt inclined to help. You would be constantly late at best and could get hurt at worst. It was better to mind your own business and to stick to your own My group essentially stuck to its social circles and for me the focal point was always video games and online interactions. We would have game nights playing D and D online or World of Warcraft until the early hours of the morning. The area that I grew up in wasn't too loud. It was a located up one of the main streets leading directly into the downtown core, but not so close to the city center as to be considered sketchy. Parts of that road could be especially near the old hospital, now torn down and replaced with a fenced off lot overgrown with tall grasses and remnants of century old brickwork. The further you went out of town on this road, the nicer and safer it was felt to walk the streets at night. As cliche as it sounds, once you crossed the railroad tracks you were in the downtrodden and seedy part of town. I always felt lucky to live on the opposite side of the tracks. One night my friends and I were playing WoW late into the night. Being prone to staying in my room all night, I decided to get some fresh air. It was about 1am And I figured I would head down the road to the local Big B, a chain of convenience stores located just on the other side of the tracks. Downtown Queenston Avenue, the aforementioned sketchy street where the hospital used to be. Many people would dread going out on Queenston at this time of night, let alone crossing the tracks, but I wasn't particularly worried. It was only a short walk from the turn off onto my street and I was a bigger guy. I didn't think anything would happen and told myself that if anything did, I would probably be fine. The night was quite peaceful as I walked along the sidewalk illuminated by dim porch lights and the gentle hum of air conditioners working away in the warm summer air. There wasn't a a soul around, which I was grateful for. As I made the turn onto the main street, the energy of the town was relatively calm and I wasn't particularly bothered by being out so late and alone. As I approached the tracks, I had my music playing in one ear and kept the other ear free to listen for oncoming traffic or anything else else. There was a park down the hill just past the tracks and as I reached the road at the top of the hill I encountered a man coming up the incline, huffing and staggering with his head down and eyes peering cautiously from beneath his hood. Keen to avoid Engagement. I always told myself I would ignore them initially, and if that didn't work, I would stop and try to be polite. Polite to avoid upsetting anyone who might be unstable. Something told me this guy was going to try to talk to me, and as it is often the case, my intuition was correct. Hey, buddy. My heart skipped a beat and I quickly went into my standard protocol, thumbing on my phone for a new track and ignoring him as I continued walking. Hey, man. Hey, stop for a second. Ugh. I calmly put my phone back into my pocket and turned around, pretending I hadn't heard him the first time and asking what he needed. Gotta smoke? No, sorry, man, I don't smoke. Or I'd give you a few. The man didn't seem to believe me. He lifted his head to meet my eyes in the dim glow of the streetlight, he looked rough, skinny and emaciated, with pock marks and a smattering of open sores, likely from hard use. His dead eyes had a piercing thirst as he scanned me over, evidently sizing me up to see if I was lying or if I had something of value that he might be able to take. Oh, okay, okay, he said insincerely, continuing to stand there awkwardly, his eyes still fixed on me as he glanced over his shoulders to check his surroundings. Hey, can you do me a favor? There's something I need to move that I left down in the park. It. It's a tv. Just a tv? I can't move it myself.

Uh, I'm kind of on a timeline. I gotta get going. I'm sorry. Hey, are you sure? Said the man. It won't take long to get to it where I'm at. I'll give you money or some cigarettes. At this point, I was thinking to myself, right, why would he be moving a television through a heavily wooded park? And so much for needing a smoke. You would give me cigarettes? What? I thought you didn't have any. With alarm bells going off in my head, I really just wanted to get away from this man as quickly as possible without escalating the situation. Sorry, man, I don't smoke. My parents are waiting for me to come back with some milk. I already forgot. I have to go get it before they wonder where I am. Oh, okay. Well, I could always come with you. We could grab that first. I'll even pay for it if you help move my tail. Tv. It is pretty heavy. I don't want someone to take it while I'm trying to find help. You know, I must have looked visibly scared at this point because he started to double down trying to get me to come with him, and he had a grin that was now showing slightly from beneath his scruffy facial hair. Good luck, man, I said, trying to end the conversation and head off to the store. I hope you find find someone to help you. Must be a pretty nice score. Yeah, yeah. Hey, hey, how old are you anyway? I'm 16, I lied. I'm actually not supposed to be out right now, man. I gotta go. The man looked frustrated and disappointed when I told him this, but he immediately gave up trying and his demeanor lightened as we neared the end of the conversation. I began to step back as I wished him good luck once more. He started to turn around, but not before saying something that chilled me to my core. 16. Ah, never mind, never mind. You're too young for me anyway. I hurried off as soon as he started walking in the other direction and nearly started splitting, sprinting when I saw the soft yellow glow of the convenience store coming up on my right. As soon as I got inside, I called an Uber and quickly grabbed my snacks and, just in case, some milk. I didn't even need the milk, I just didn't want to not have it if I encountered him again. Luckily, the Uber was only a minute away and arrived by the time I paid and walked out of the store. I hopped in the car, grateful and relieved that I wouldn't have to walk back home. As we passed the tracks, I cautiously glanced to the right and noticed, off in the shadows of the trees along the clearing, the silhouette of a hooded man smoking a cigarette and watching the sidewalk with predatory eyes.

I will never go out that late again.

[B]

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