Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 300 - From Hell

Summary

Scary Stories and Rain – Ep. 300 – "From Hell"

December 11, 2025
Host: Being Scared (Dane)

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Episode Overview

In this milestone 300th episode, "Scary Stories for a Rainy Night – From Hell," Being Scared presents a chilling collection of true, listener-submitted paranormal and real-life horror stories, all set against the backdrop of soothing rain. The episode is crafted for listeners seeking eerie tales to accompany sleepless nights, and this installment is especially packed with harrowing encounters—from a sinister figure in Venetian woods to unsettling happenings at home and work. The tone is calm yet suspenseful, true to Being Scared’s storytelling style.

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Key Stories & Insights

1. Shadow on the Beach – Midnight in Italy

[02:08–06:02]
Story Summary:
A 17-year-old and two friends, exhausted after 20 days hiking from Graz to Venice, try to find a campsite one night. A lone man appears on a path leading into the woods and, after a tense encounter where he follows them, the group flees through a field and eventually escapes.
Notable Moments & Quotes:

• "I was so exhausted that I was even walking with my eyes closed."
• The raw feeling of danger intensifies as, “all our exhaustion and pain vanished” when flight-or-fight kicked in.
• "We have no idea if he was just a drunkard playing a twisted joke or if he had more sinister intentions." – [06:02]

2. Something Lurking on the Buffalo River – Ozark Mountains

[06:32–17:02]
Story Summary:
A female Venture Scout recounts her unnerving solo night camping on the Buffalo River. Between the threatening silence, seeing a massive elk-like creature, and hearing footsteps outside her tent, she’s driven to terror, culminating in a mysterious voice luring her out in the dead of night.
Memorable Quotes & Moments:

• "The woods were completely silent. Not a cricket, not a rustle of a squirrel, nothing." – [09:38]
• “Its face, even in the shadow, triggered my primitive brain again...if my blood wasn’t running cold before, it was now.” – [12:20]
• “Sam, did you come to my tent last night? ...No, I wouldn’t try to scare you...I know how nervous you were...But I guess you were too scared last night.” – [15:02]
• The narrator’s existential dread: “What had Sam heard coming out of the woods and checking out my tent multiple times that night? Why hadn’t I heard it?” – [16:10]

3. The Top Hat Man – Sleep Paralysis Demon

[17:39–22:10]
Story Summary:
A terrifying sleep paralysis episode: the storyteller is immobilized, senses an evil presence, and sees a faceless and grinning figure in a top hat looming over them, uttering a chilling vow. The nightmare seems to follow them into reality when they later discover a photograph on their phone of themselves screaming in terror.
Notable Quotes:

• "I can't breathe. My eyes are open and I am able to see everything around me. Yes, it's shrouded in darkness, but it's still my room and I am still in my bed. Except I can't move and I can't breathe." – [17:39]
• “There he is. The guy in the top hat. He's tall, all black. He's not a he at all, but a thing...I can make out a grin spreading across his blank and stoic face.” – [19:05]
• The threat: "From this night forward until time ends, I will watch you sleep. Time and time again." – [20:36]
• The coda: “Upon returning to my bed, I grab my phone to check the time. And there, present on screen, is a picture taken of me from above: my eyes wide...mouth open... and a dark glaze over my eyes. Those don't look like my eyes.” – [22:10]

4. The Man at the Cabin Window – Family Terror in the Woods

[22:25–26:39]
Story Summary:
A man recounts a family holiday in a remote cabin in 1996. After odd banging and lights acting up, the family is confronted by a horrifying figure—a lanky, gray-skinned man with black eyes and a gaping grin peering through the window. Their father shoots the intruder before fleeing with the family.
Notable Quotes:

• “As my father prepared wood for the campfire, a sudden loud bang on the door startled us all. He bravely opened the door...but the surrounding area appeared empty.” – [23:11]
• “There was a slender, lanky man peering down through the window. His skin was gray, his eyes were jet black, and he had a massive gaping grin...” – [24:31]
• “My whole family may have ended up dead.” – [26:39]

5. 1970s Kidnapping – Aunt Cece’s Brush with Death

[26:47–34:44]
Story Summary:
A harrowing real-life account of a 17-year-old woman, Cece, in 1975 who is abducted while making a cash bank deposit for her job. Using quick thinking and her “gift of gab,” she manages to talk her kidnappers into releasing her unharmed, all while hiding the fact she was carrying over $3,000 in cash.
Notable Quotes:

• “Cece then did what she was gifted with. She kept her cool and turned on the charm...‘You guys seem pretty cool. It's too bad I can’t party...My boss will call the cops because of what's been happening lately.’” – [31:08]
• “She is an incredibly brave woman...I’m glad that her narrow escape did not diminish her adventurous spirit...She tells this one as a lesson in not getting too relaxed in daily routines and in keeping emotions in check during scary situations.” – [34:05]

6. The Watcher in the Restaurant – Unnerving Late Shift

[36:23–41:13]
Story Summary:
A restaurant worker doing closing duties experiences sheer terror when the alarm system detects movement in the supposedly empty dining room, just before they hear running footsteps approaching from the darkness. Security footage later reveals a shadowy figure watching them flee.
Memorable Quotes:

• “The dark creeps me out...I typed in the code and got an error—Error: Infrared Detected, Dining Room. I felt my stomach sink.” – [38:12]
• "I have gotten chills down my spine before when something creeps me out. But this was different. It felt like my entire nervous system was overloaded." – [39:17]
• “The exterior camera caught something that scared the life out of me...you could barely see the elongated shadow of someone standing by the door...watching me run away.” – [40:29]

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Notable Quotes & Moments (with Timestamps)

• “All our exhaustion and pain vanished, along with the weight of our fully packed, fast backpacks.” – [03:38]
• “The only thing filling the silence and the darkness that surrounds me are my screams.” – [21:17]
• “I have never felt so vulnerable. I'm not really a believer in the paranormal, but I just don't know what kind of sick person would wait in a restaurant for two hours after close, not steal anything, just to scare the employee…” – [40:45]
• “She is certain that the outcome...would have ended badly if she had lost her cool…Keep emotions in check during scary situations.” – [34:05]

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Themes & Tone

• The terror of isolation and how quickly ordinary situations (a hike, a camping trip, a job) can turn into nightmares
• The line between supernatural horror (the Top Hat Man, the elk-like entity, the grinning figure) and real-world threats (stalkers, kidnappers)
• The recurring motif of primal fear—how the body reacts when reason leaves and survival instincts take over
• Calm, measured narration overlays each story with a sense of stark reality, heightening the frights by grounding them in plausibility

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Episode Flow & Structure

• Each story is told in first-person, drawing the listener into the experience.
• No intrusive sound effects; only ambient rain, increasing the eerie atmosphere.
• Advertisement and intro/outro segments are placed outside core story segments (skipped in this summary).

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Conclusion

Episode 300 of Scary Stories and Rain is a powerful showcase of personal horror accounts, both supernatural and all-too-human, curated to maximize atmospheric dread while maintaining the series’ calm, intimate tone. The stories walk a knife’s edge between the explainable and the uncanny, making for a perfect companion to a long, rainy night.

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]

This story is from my hike from Graz, Austria to Venice, Italy. It might not be as frightening as some other stories, but I want to share it. In the summer of 2023, my two friends and I, all 17 years old at the time, were in the final week of our hike from Graz to Venice. It was late at night and we still hadn't found a place to set up our tents. We were walking along a seemingly endless beach, exhaustion weighing heavily on us. After 20 days of walking, our legs ached from blisters and we had already taken minutes long pauses to regain energy. We were all eager to rest. Eventually we found a suitable spot on the map, a beach further away from the city we were in and decided to head there. By this time, we had briefly entered the city, but hadn't gone deep into it. The streets were empty except for some tourists nearby near the beach. I was so exhausted that I was even walking with my eyes closed. To reach our campsite, we had to take a small gravel path connected to one of the streets. As we arrived at the intersection that led to our intended campsite, a man suddenly emerged from the path we needed to take, which led right into the woods and walked right past us. My friend, distracted by fatigue, walked past the intersection without noticing it. I quickly called out to him, pointing out that we needed to take that path. Just after, I corrected my friend. I don't know why, but I glanced back and noticed the man standing in the middle of the road, motionless, staring at us. For a few seconds, I looked at him, but it was pitch black, so I couldn't make out his features. I didn't think much of it and decided to continue walking. However, as soon as we entered the gravel path, we made a chilling discovery. The man was now following us, heading back from where he had just come. As we began to worry, all our exhaustion and pain vanished, along with the weight of our fully packed, fast backpacks. While still walking down this dark path, we started discussing what to do rather loudly, not expecting him to understand our language since we weren't locals. After a brief discussion, we decided that jumping into the field next to the path was a better option than staying on the path or facing the man. So after about 30 meters of walking along the path, we jumped into the field. The field was full of crops and difficult to wade through, including jumping over some kind of ditch in the middle of the field. But with adrenaline pumping, we barely noticed the discomfort and kept running as fast as we could with these huge backpacks. As soon as the man saw us move, he immediately turned back and returned to the road that we had just left. We quickly did the same, and with a head start, we managed to put some distance between us and him. Our shorts and shoes were wet. However, there was no time to care. The man was still following us. We rushed through the streets of the city, and as soon as we didn't see him anymore, we calmed down a bit. Still, fear kept us moving, trying to stay in the darkness so he couldn't see us. Walking past a gas station at the end of the city, which could be seen from the street where we had met the man, we continued and walked another 5km before finally setting up our tents far away from where we had encountered the man.

To this day we have no idea if he was just a drunkard playing a twisted joke or if he had more sinister intentions. And who knows what might have happened. If it hadn't been for those pauses that we took, we might have been right on time to meet this mysterious man further down into the darkness of the woods.

In my late teens, early 20s, I was a Venture Scout and leader for trips my local Boy Scout troop went on. I am a female, but my brother was part of the troop for years and I became friends with everyone in the troop. I completed my youth protection training and was allowed to become a leader chaperone on camping trips and other wilderness related outings. I had a longtime friend in the troupe, let's call him Sam, and he was a close friend of my whole family. Sam was a little older than me and had already been a Boy Scout leader for several years at this point. This story takes place in November of 2018. Sam and I were made the leaders of an upcoming camping trip, the annual fall canoe float down the Buffalo national river in Arkansas. The Buffalo river runs about 135 miles through the Ozark Mountains with enormous bluffs on at least one side or the other through most of flows through some of the most beautiful parts of northwest and northern Arkansas, and despite my incident, I still encourage you to take a trip there. We had made camp that afternoon on a riverbank after about 15 miles from where we put it in. The Scouts put up their tents about 25 yards upstream of my tent with the campfire and cooking station situated in between us. As I was setting up, I mentioned to Sam that I was a little nervous about sleeping in my tent alone for the first time. He shrugged me off and told me it would be fine, that sleeping alone was actually quite peaceful. I remember rolling my eyes because unlike me, Sam had not only been camping completely alone for years, but he had also done it in a hammock with no other what I consider protective gear. I didn't bother to ask him to tent with me because according to the Scouting rules, males and females cannot share tents and I didn't want to get in trouble. The very first time I was leading the troop. However, I think Sam sensed my unease and he set up his sleeping arrangements outside my tent, which consisted of consisted of a sleeping pad on the ground with his canoe flipped over on top of him like a coffin. To this day, I admire what it must have been like to live with so little concern.

We all spent the evening around the campfire, talking and making dinner. The forest and the river all around us was so full of life that I felt a little more comfortable when we all decided to turn in for the night. I watched Sam lay down on his pad and flip the canoe over on top of him before sighing with contentment and I climbed into my tent. I spent the first hour or two reading while listening to the sounds of the boys up the riverbank fade as they all started to fall asleep. But I couldn't. The nighttime temperature had dropped below freezing. Then of course, I needed to pee. I spent probably another 10 minutes trying to trick myself into forgetting about it and fall asleep, but it was impossible. Finally, I got out of my tent, tapped Sam's canoe to let him know where I was going, and then headed up the bank for some privacy. I don't know how many women on here have peed in the woods, but if you have, you'll know. It's one of the worst things about camping. What made it even worse is because I was cautious about being seen. I climbed all the way up the embankment and walked about 10ft into the woods before stopping and oh my gosh, it was miserable. Not only having to drop Dror in the freezing cold, but also being completely vulnerable. But the worst part about it was the woods were completely silent. Not a cricket, not a rustle of a squirrel, nothing. It didn't click in my head until years later about how bad that actually is. Just the primitive part of my brain started screaming to leave immediately. I ran back to the embankment before sliding down onto my butt and sprinting back to camp. Once back around everyone else and in the glow of the full moon, I had a little more sense of security. The river was burbling on quietly and I could see the dying embers of the campfire before getting the idea to take the warm rocks from the campfire and put them in my sleeping bag. To try to get enough warmth to sleep, I drug about four or five decent sized stones into my tent and slipped them into the bottom of my sleeping bag. Unfortunately, it just wasn't enough. I was awake for hours in pain from how cold I was, trying to rub the ache out of my legs. I remember actually tearing up a bit with how exhausted and cold I was.

That's when I heard a noise like footsteps walking around downstream from my tent. The bank was covered in smooth river stones, so any kind of footsteps would make noise noise. But the sound of the rocks shifting told me that this was something large. Then I heard them enter the water And I worried one of the boys was awake and going for a midnight swim. I quickly unzipped my tent and poked my head out to see an elk drinking from the river. At least it looked like an elk. It was massive, but it was far enough away and standing perfectly in shadow that I wasn't quite sure. It was much too big to be a deer, but we don't have moose in Arkansas. I quietly watched it, hoping to see more of it when it looked directly at me. Its face, even in the shadow, triggered my primitive brain again. If my blood wasn't running cold before, it was now. I felt this prickling up my neck as this unknown terror crept into my bones. I ducked my head back into my tent and stayed completely still for hours. The combination of fear and the cold wasted any hope of sleeping. I never heard the elk figure leave the bank, but I also didn't even think about listening for it. The woods were that almost screaming silence again. After what felt like hours, someone tapped on my tent and said, come on out. It's time to go. I pressed my face into my hands and breathed a sigh of both relief and exhaustion. I had made it through the the night and even though I didn't get any sleep, it was over. I quickly stuck my feet in my boots and stepped out of my tent to find.

Nothing. It was still night. I had confused the light from the moon as dawn. No one was around my tent and the time it took from when they spoke to me to when I came out was not enough time for one of the boys to make it back to their tent before I saw them. That pricking feeling came back, but this time it was all over my body as I heard a voice in my head say, don't turn around.

I slowly sat backwards in my tent and zipped myself up into it with shaking hands. I laid down in my sleeping bag and covered my face and prepared prayed. I prayed for so long until I finally fell asleep.

In the morning, I woke up to the familiar voice of Sam talking to another scout outside my tent. I could feel the warmth of the sun beating down into my tent. I know I looked terrible by the way. Sam did a double take upon seeing me. Oh geez. You look like you didn't sleep at all.

Did you come to my tent last night? I asked him. Sam, still studying my face, slowly responded no. Please don't play with me. If you did, you got me good. Great. Just don't continue the joke right now if you did. Please. I felt a little bad being accusatory because Sam was actually a pretty no nonsense guy, especially when it came to being in charge on camping trips. Diana, no, I wouldn't try to scare you. I know how nervous you were about sleeping alone out here. He folded up his pad before tossing it into his canoe and throwing it over his shoulder. But I guess you were too scared last night. I looked confused. What? Sam gestured up the embankment into the woods. I heard you make a few trips up there. Next time just get a Gatorade bottle and you won't have to leave your tent. Around that time the rest of the Scouts had announced that they had finished cooking breakfast and everyone migrated to the campfire. But I felt like I had just sunk down to my knees in the river mud. I had left the tent once. I went up the embankment and came back down once. So if it wasn't me, what had Sam heard coming out of the woods and checking out my tent multiple times that night? Why hadn't I heard it? I have told this story to people before and they say I had just dreamed it, but I know that I hadn't. I had been too cold and had sat up in my sleep sleeping bag most of the night, rubbing my legs. And since I know it wasn't a dream, what is hiding and hunting in the woods along the Buffalo River?

[B]

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[A]

I can't breathe. My eyes are open and I am able to see everything around me. Yes, it's shrouded in darkness, but it's still my room and I am still in my bed. Except I can't move and I can't breathe. I can feel the eyes of something sinister on me. Something is watching me from the darkness that is surrounding me. I don't see it. I can smell it. A putrid, stagnant smell like sulfur, acid and bowel movement all in one. But I feel it. I feel anger and the hatred in the air around me. The room I fell asleep in was peaceful. It's my room. I can see the Jack Skellington tapestry on the wall across from me. The television is in sleep mode, the little bubbles dancing around the screen. I can feel the weight of my tiny dog beside me under the blanket. My drawings hung where they were when I fell asleep. But the darkness in the room is darker. The feeling in the room is evil. There's a sound. What's that sound? It's not me. I can't breathe. I can't move. Move. And I for sure can't speak. But something is moving. Footsteps. Those are footsteps that I can hear coming from my closet. I cut my eyes looking as far to the side of them to try and see who or what. That there is nothing there. Until there is movement at the end of my bed. Looking down, still unable to do anything but stare. There he is. The guy in the top hat. He's tall, all black. He's not a he at all, but a thing. No facial features are eminent, but I can make out a grin spreading across his blank and stoic face.

He's enjoying this. The torture and pure terror I feel. I can tell he's feeding off of it. Tightly shutting my eyes. I'm hoping that doing this will make him go away. My eyes fly back open in a panic when I feel breath on my face and neck. There he is, hovering over me, the grin wider than it was before. I tried to make him disappear. He's mouthing something, but no words are audible. And then, in a growling whisper.

I watch you sleep at night.

So lovely you are.

From this night forward until time ends, I will watch you sleep. Time and time again.

Praying in my head that he will just go away. I can feel the tears gliding down the sides of my face. I still can't breathe, move or speak. I am so beyond trapped, and the terror welling inside me needs to be released. I open my mouth, forming a scream, and in my mind that's all I'm doing, screaming as loud as possible.

Finally, the only thing filling the silence and the darkness that surrounds me are my screams. I sit up as quickly as possible and gather myself. Inhale. 1, 2, 3. Exhale. 1, 2,3. After I had pulled myself together and obtained the courage to go to the bathroom, I head that way. Upon returning to my bed, I grab my phone to check the time. And there, present on the screen, is a picture taken of me from above. My eyes wide and filled with with tears that are streaming down my cheeks. Mouth open in the form of a scream. And A dark glaze over my eyes.

Those don't look like my eyes.

When I look back at my younger years, from around the age of nine, all I can picture is the holiday home that we visited and what happened there. The location that we stayed in was a frequent choice for us, with about three or four visits in the past. Each time we visited, we had consistently positive experiences. It was located in a remote area about 30 minutes away from everything and there wasn't a phone signal for at least three miles. The memory of that night still haunts me even now. As a 28 year old man, I frequently attend therapy sessions to address my anxiety about that night. So let me take you back to the winter of 1996.

After a long and challenging drive through harsh weather and treacherous terrain, my family and I finally arrived at our cabin in the dead of the night. The cozy little house we were staying in was a charming two bedroom cabin nestled within nature. The kitchen was small but functional and the living room was even tinier, giving it a snug and intimate feel. As my father prepared wood for the campfire and my mother lovingly tucked me and my sister, who was was 7 at the time, into bed, a sudden loud bang on the door startled us all. My father cautiously peered through the keyhole, only to find no one on the other side. He bravely opened the door to investigate, but the surrounding area appeared empty, leaving all of us puzzled and a little uneasy. At first we thought the incident was just an animal running into the door, but I couldn't shake an uneasy feeling. That night I was terrified thinking about someone outside in the dark creeping around our house. Despite my fear, I eventually fell asleep, but it was restless.

A few days passed and little happened apart from a few strange sounds coming from outside every now and then and the odd stuttering of the lights. Everything was going smoothly and our trip appeared to be rather ordinary. That was until we saw him. I couldn't accurately make it out in the dark, but from what I could see, there was a slender, lanky man peering down through the window. His skin was gray, his eyes were jet black, and he had a massive gaping grin stretching across his face. Everyone fell silent. We were all just staring directly at the window, petrified and helpless. The silence was broken by a blood curdling scream from outside, which was shortly followed by the disappearance of the creature at the window. I don't know what it was or who it was, but I sure as hell didn't want to wait to find out. The car was parked about five seconds away from the door. So this would have taken us around 10 seconds to sprint over there, open the doors, turn the key and drive away. My father instantly sprung into action, grabbing the double barrel weapon our family kept for emergencies and smashing through the front door. He stared down the sight, watching as whatever it was dashed towards him and shot two slugs directly into the chest of the beast. Within a split second we all sprinted outside and into the car as we watched whatever it was lay on the floor.

As soon as my father started the ignition, we were out of there as if a bullet leaving a rifle. We never went back to that place and I hope no one else did either. I don't know what I saw that night, but what I do know is that if my father hadn't made that split second decision.

My whole family may have ended up dead.

During the summer of 1975, my grandfather worked at a car dealership as a mechanic in a major city on the west coast. That was where my aunt Cece got her first job as a receptionist for the dealership. They were from a small town out in the countryside, so she was excited to start work in the big city. As Cece had just graduated high school school and wanted to save up for an apartment despite the fact that she was in a major city, Cici's job was what you would expect working as a receptionist inside a car dealership. The immediate area was devoted to industry, work and other car dealerships. It was in effect a social desert for a 17 year old social butterfly like Cici. This was a blue collar area that was predominantly men working hard dirty jobs. Despite that, Cece enjoyed her work and the chance to carpool with her dad and got along great with the staff. With what my grandfather called the gift of gab, she could make friends with anybody. Now, as it was 1975, most transactions were done in cash and as a result paperwork and money deposits had to be done with daily transition trips to the bank. That task fell upon Cici as part of her duties and she was entrusted with taking deposits to the bank located within walking distance of her place of employment. As she worked in a successful car dealership, she could deliver thousands of dollars in cash per deposit. To put the money in perspective, $2,000 in 1975 is equal to well over $10,000 now. So here was Cece, a lone 17 year old girl with a daily routine, walking from a popular car dealership to a bank with large sums of money at a somewhat isolated and rough neighborhood inside a major city. To say that her employer did not first see an opportunity for disaster was naive on their part and for my grandfather as well. All that I can say say about that relaxed attitude was that the 70s was an entirely different world almost 50 years ago and Cece was the one to pay the price. On that summer's day, the dealership had quite a few successful transactions that resulted in netting over $3,000. So with the paperwork done after lunchtime, Cece put the money into her purse and began the short walk to the bank. She was a few minutes into her journey when a rusty van screeched to a halt behind her. Before she could react, the sliding door opened and a man pulled her inside. Before she had a chance to do anything, the door slammed shut and the engine revved as they took off. And just like that, she was kidnapped. Inside the van were five rough looking men in their mid to late twenties. The back seats had been taken out for a mattress and several pillows to convert it to a party van. As was typical for the time, as evidenced by the empty beer cans and bottles as well as other paraphernalia, the men were laughing as they shoved Cici onto the mattress, commenting that they had wanted a pretty girl to join the party and she had the misfortune to be that random girl girl in their path. They seemed either oblivious or uncaring that they had abducted a young woman off the streets against her will. Now, I don't need to emphasize how dangerous a situation CeCe was in. She was fully aware that what was likely to happen to her with five strangers taking her to God knows where, the men didn't look like college students and by appearance had a rough lifestyle. She also realized that they weren't aware of the money in her purse. These were men looking for a good time at the expense of preying on an innocent woman, not criminal masterminds who had cased her daily trip to the bank for a deposit. Regardless, her chances would likely plummet to zero if they discovered the $3,000 hidden inside her purse. That much money might be too tempting a purpose surprise than to leave a witness behind. Cici then did what she was gifted with. She kept her cool and turned on the charm. She laughed along with the men as if being held against her will was a joke, saying to the effect, ah, you guys seem pretty cool. It's too bad I can't party with you as I'm expected back at work. I would hate for all of us to get in trouble as my boss will be mad if I'm not back soon. Soon he'll definitely call the cops because of what's been happening lately. At this time, the then unidentified serial killer, Ted Bundy was active on the west coast, especially in that city. Cece and her sisters had even cut their hair short as a precaution because the girls targeted at the time all had long hair. Those murders were at the forefront of the public's minds, and Cici used that as leverage for her kidnappers to take her words seriously. It was enough to plant a seed of doubt in their minds, but it also showed that they never had good intentions, aside from the fact that they had abducted her, with the added risk of her being immediately missed. And the cops quickly involved. Cece continued talking with the men as they mold this information over while she downplayed played her own fear. You guys really don't want to do this. My boss is really strict about my breaks and we'll all get into trouble real soon. I don't think any of us want that. In the end, those terrible men decided that she wasn't worth the trouble. They pulled over near a grocery store and opened the door to let her out, and then quickly drove off. Cece, who still had her purse with the $3,000, ran into the store to call her dad. The cops were also involved, but without any identification or a license plate, the kidnappers were never caught, and no follow up was ever made. In retrospect, Sisi's kidnapping might not have been taken seriously by the police. This was 1975, literally just one year after American women were legally able to open their own credit cards in their own name without a male partner. So it's frustratingly likely that Cici's whole abduction was written off as some harmless joyride prank, and she was neither assaulted nor robbed. Hopefully those men thought better than to try again on another innocent bystander, but sadly, that might just be wishful thinking. I want to finish this story by stating. Stating that I love my Aunt Cece, and I am so grateful that she is a part of my life. She is an incredibly brave woman who has had many adventures, traveling all over the world, doing photography, and using her gift of gab to cultivate friendships that reach across cultures and language barriers. I'm glad that her narrow escape at being abducted as a teenager did not diminish her adventurous spirit, but instead taught her how to better survive in this dangerous world. She has many stories, but tells this one as a lesson in not getting too relaxed in daily routines and in keeping emotions in check during scary situations. After all, she is certain that the outcome of her abduction would have ended badly for her if she had lost her cool and those men discovered that payload inside her purse.

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I work at a restaurant in a small town and I have been locking up at the end of the night for a year now. It's nice, easy money and I usually get paid an extra hour while doing simple tasks like cleaning or rolling silverware. It's actually calming after a hectic night in the kitchen. I never check bathrooms or anything before locking up. Usually the restaurant is empty well before I am finished and I have a lot of time to myself. There is something so eerie about being in a restaurant alone after closing. What was once a bustling place full of people is now empty and silent. The sounds of the machinery kicking on can be heard across the restaurant. The sound of the ice machine dumping ice Usually makes me jump with the layout of the restaurant. The main light switches are on the opposite side of the restaurant from the door with the alarm. So I usually lock the back and front doors and then turn off all the lights. Then I make my way through the dark restaurant to the side door which has the keypad. In order to arm the system, all doors need to be closed and there needs to be no movement in the restaurant. If there is an error, it will tell me the door that is open or in four red and the area where there is movement. When I first started locking up, I needed the flashlight on my phone to navigate to the door. But now I know the layout so I just walk in the darkness. For some reason it is less scary to just speed walk through the dark than to have a dimly lit phone light casting shadows and reflecting off surfaces. I hate to say it as a grown man, the dark creeps me out. Tonight the restaurant had been closed for almost two hours. I mopped the kitchen, cleaned a bit and rolled some silverware for the morning crew. I locked the doors, turned off the lights, then made my way through the dark restaurant to the door. I typed in the code and got an error. Error Infrared detected Dining room I felt my stomach sink. I know I've been alone in this restaurant for two hours. I know I had just walked through that pitch black dining room. Just then I heard footsteps pounding on the tile coming towards me from the dining room. I have gotten chills down my spine before when something creeps me out. But this was different. It felt like my entire nervous system system was overloaded. I didn't even turn around. I just opened the door and bolted out into the parking lot. I didn't hear any footsteps behind me. I got in my car and peeled out. I drove down the street and called 911 and then my boss. I waited until they arrived before I went back into the restaurant. The door was wide open. There was no sign of anyone. Nothing was stolen, nothing was broken. I gave a report of what happened and that was it. The only interior camera that is pointed at the cash registers didn't see into a majority of the dining room. But the exterior camera caught something that scared the life out of me and that I will think about for the rest of my life. It it captures me running out of the building and around the corner to my car shortly after I exited. You could barely see the elongated shadow of someone standing by the door beneath the camera watching me run away. The person casting it being just out of frame before turning the opposite direction. And disappearing. Just seeing my terrified self running away and that shadow watching me do so. I have never felt so vulnerable. I'm not really a believer in the paranormal, but I just don't know what kind of sick person would wait in a restaurant for two hours after close, not steal anything just to scare the employee that was locking up. I know for a fact it wasn't any of my co workers. Obviously there wasn't much that could be done to find out who it was. Nothing shows anyone entering the building after close and from what we could tell, everyone who entered that day had left. This event still has me questioning myself on whether it was a sick prank, someone mentally ill, or something supernatural.

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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 Number 7 are registered trademarks. Tennessee Whiskey 40% alcohol by volume. Jack Daniel Distillery, Lynchburg, Tennessee Jason Disney asked me to do this podcast thing. I need some advice. You've got to have banger guests. Walker and Leah. Daniel Deamer, Tim Simons, Adam Coveland. You're the one asking the questions. How they better answer?

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