Podcast Host (27:53)
At one point a few years back, I ended up working in a small privately owned restaurant. It was set on a small main drag in a tiny historic community. The restaurant definitely stood out amongst the locals and tourists due to its multicultural food variety. The restaurant served everything from American cuisine to Indian, Thai, French, and Middle Eastern foods. The small restaurant was formerly a popular privately owned Chinese restaurant and a local favorite. But unfortunately, the older man that owned and operated it passed away inside the restaurant one day. So suffice it to say that the local townsfolk didn't take too kindly to the foreign city woman that bustled in shortly after his death. And purchased his restaurant. Not only was my former boss flaky and irresponsible, but she could also come off as quite curt and rude at times. So she had a rough go at first, obtaining the proper permits and whatnot in order to renovate the historic building. The thing is that when you do certain renovations in an old building like that, the local laws require you to then update a lot of other things that could be quite costly. So that meant that she decided to just use the staff that she had hired, which was us, to help her with most of the renovation work. Everything was going pretty smooth, you know, nothing out of the ordinary. That is, until one overcast, drizzly day when we were all gathered in the dining area for a staff meeting. As we all sat there quietly listening to the boss lady, something a little strange happened. The front entrance door to the restaurant suddenly opened to about halfway and then carefully closed after a second, as though someone had simply stepped in. Of course, there was no one there, as the door was almost entirely glass and we would have seen a person on the other side. We all looked at one another confused, but we just chalked it up to the breeze. Since the back door was open, though, there was a set of closed kitchen doors in between. The second odd thing to happen happened to another employee when she was there alone one night. According to her, just after she turned a corner, passing a shelf with some tools on it, an empty cordless drill case went flying past her head. It barely missed her and smashed into the wall in front of her. She definitely seemed pretty put off when she told us about it in the kitchen the next day. Following that, random small things would happen here and there. Like our boss would ask us once in a while why one of us didn't come into her office when she had seen one of us walk by her open door. But we were usually puzzled by that, as none of us had ever walked past her office during that time. Besides that, we'd get the occasional strange sound, like a faint voice or a door opening or closing. Also, when I would be in the kitchen putting together some ingredients for a recipe, and I would have to walk away for a second to go grab another ingredient off the back shelf or something. But when I would return less than 15 seconds later, one of the ingredients I had set out prior to leaving the area would be gone. I would end up having to measure out and prepare the same ingredient again, annoyed, but I had no idea that it was about to get a whole lot more terrifying for me. The final thing to happen to me and my other co workers was the worst experience I have ever had. That was paranormal, hands down. But in order to properly explain this part to you, I'm going to need to explain a couple things about restaurant kitchens. In a typical restaurant kitchen setup, you have a cook line. And the cook line is literally that a line, as in a skinny walking or standing space typically between the oven, fryers and cooktop, with the prep surfaces and small fridges on the opposite side, leaving about a three to four foot walking aisle forming a cook line. Besides that, there's a dishwasher outside of that line, followed by the rest of what you'd expect to find in a restaurant kitchen. You know, like fridges and freezers all on a large scale. You also got your giant hood fans above the cook area and a hot water heater. The reason why I'm pointing all of these out is because together they all constantly make noise. Think like louder ambient background noise. Constantly. So this one day there are three of us working in the kitchen. Me, my boss and another employee on the dishwasher. My boss and I were on the cook line while the dishwasher was a few feet away from the cook line. We were all free, working as normal, when all of a sudden it got quiet. Think of when you don't realize you've been hearing a constant low sound until it suddenly stops and then you notice the sudden change in the noise environment. Except for I mean it absolutely got dead silent. Almost like an invisible soundproof blanket got thrown over the three of us. As soon as I noticed it, I looked around at the other two and they also looked puzzled. What the heck? I questioned out loud. Why is it so quiet all of a sudden? I asked the dishwasher guy suspiciously. I don't know, my boss replied, drawing out her words nervously. She turned to face me as I was standing directly behind her on the narrow cook line. Nora, go make sure that the fridges and hood fans are still running. Maybe the power is out. So I ventured the 10 or so feet to outside the cook line area and weirdly enough, I could hear the hood fans and even the dishwasher, the hot water heater and all the fridges and freezers running like normal. I went back to my boss and with a confused look I told her everything's working fine. That was the first creepy part of that. But when I stepped back onto the cook line to tell my boss, all was silent again. Well, Nora, get back to work grilling those peppers. She snapped. So I got back onto the cook line beside her. After A couple of minutes though, I suddenly started to get tired tunnel vision and I felt really dizzy and nauseous. I told my boss and she told me to go sit out back for a few minutes to get some fresh air, which I promptly did. As I was sitting outside trying to feel better, I could see my boss go into her office, which was kitty corner from the back door. Since the back door was open with just the screen door closed, I was able to hear her while she made a phone call. She sounded urgent and shaky as she asked the person on the other end of the line to please bring in an abalone shell, some sage and some kind of weird oil. Now the reason she needed those particular items was because according to her, she had felt something walk through her on the cook line that wasn't good. The crappy part is that I was standing right behind her, inches away on that cook line. I waited for her to finish her phone call and return to the cook line before I went back in. By the time I got back in, everything sounded normal again on the cook line when I got off my shift about an hour later. Believe me when I say that I made the normally 45 minute drive home in just under 30 minutes. All night that night I tossed and turned unable to really sleep. But the few times I managed to slip into sleep, I kid you not, I got jolted right back awake because I would see a screaming demon like thing right in front of my face. I should start this story by saying that I'm not one who scares easily. I'm a blue collar dude who's been an outdoorsman my entire life. I was born a fighter and know how to take care of myself. I digress. I grew up outside of Detroit in the 90s and early 2000s. As a pastime I would go out to the abandoned buildings in the city. We'd go explore and cause a little harmless trouble as teenagers are known to do. On a brisk late October night I found myself sitting in my truck, bored. On a Friday night. I got the bright idea to go out to the city and explore some of the abandoned houses in the more shady areas of Detroit. In the past I would always go with other people. Me being the moron I was at the time, I went alone. Of course I drove out to the shadiest neighborhood I knew of at the time and picked an abandoned house at random. I decided that I was going to park my truck about a block away and walk to the house as to not draw too much attention to myself as I'm walking to the House, I saw the typical streets of Detroit characters. A couple of ladies of the night dealers and a more than normal amount of homeless guys. As I'm walking through that back alley to get to the back door, I hear faint noises of someone behind me, not usual for this situation. I keep my hand on a good sized hunting knife that I always carry just in case I need to defend myself. Thankfully, I have never had to use it. I hear the gravel become louder and louder. I look behind me and see three people turning the corner onto the same alley I went down. So I did what anyone would do. I booked it as fast as I could and hopped a fence into a yard and hid in an overgrown bush. My heart thumping and breath sharply panting, I stay as quiet as I possibly could. I sit there, concealed. I see the three guys walk no further than five feet away from me. I hear them say, it can't be far. I know he jumped a fence. As they keep walking down the dark alley, I start to regain my composure. I think to myself, I came all the way here. I'm going into an abandoned house. I turn around and start my way towards the back door of the house. The houses have plywood all over the windows and doors, so I pry open the wood from the bottom of the door and crawl into the house. Once I get inside, I see the typical things you see in an abandoned house. Spray painted walls, trash, holes in the floor, etc. I make my way upstairs to the top floor to see what's up there. As I make my way from room to room, I hear a loud thud on the wall closest to the backyard, after which I hear, I know you're in there. I hit the sprint through the hallway to the room across from the room I was in. I hear another thud and voices saying, come out here. You don't belong here. I freeze, trying to figure out what I'm gonna do. As I'm racking my brain, I hear them say the there's no way out. We're going to catch you. In a raspy smoker's voice. I then hear faint popping sounds coming from the first floor. Then I smell the unmistakable smell of smoke. It was then that I realized that I am in very deadly trouble. They lit the house on fire. I start running from room to room, losing my mind. I then think to myself, get it together. Your life literally depends on it right now. As the flames start traveling up the only stairwell, I start pushing on every board or window I could find. Not a single one of them would budge at this point. I have never been so fearful in my entire life. It was just then that I remember the windows leading to the roof in the attic. I start frantically searching for the stairs that lead to the attic. By this time the hallway is filled with black smoke and flames start bursting the top of the stairs. I came from the flames licking the ceiling and quickly making their way to the end of the hallway. Finally, by the light of the flames, I find the way to the attic. I pull the string to the hideaway stairs and run up them faster than I've ever ran before. I make my way to the window and kick out the glass. I make my way onto the roof and take the most refreshing, refreshing breath I have ever taken in my life. However, I know I'm still not out of the woods yet. I frantically start looking for a soft place to land. The house being three stories, I knew that wasn't an option. In my head I'm saying it's better than dying. Just then I run past the peak of the roof to see the house next door is only a 10 foot gap to the other roof. I take about a 15 foot running start and jump to the other roof. Then I make my way towards the overgrown tree so I can climb down. I have never been more grateful to plant my feet on solid ground. It was at this moment I hear a voice say he's over here. I take off, jumping fence after fence in the direction of my truck. I come out to the front yard into the street and run into two more guys who grab my shirt. I break their grip and start running. As my feet feel like I'm floating, I reach my truck. I put my hand in my pocket and grab my keys like a bad movie. My hands are trembling so badly I dropped them. I bend down to grab them and look to my left and see three men no more than 15ft away from me. I managed to get the key in the slot and unlock the door. I pull the door open and go to step into the truck. Then I feel a wet heat on the side of my head and my ears start ringing. I turn the key in the ignition and start the truck. I take off with the door still open and one of the guys hanging onto the bed of the truck. I mash the pedal to the floor and swing my back end around to turn and look at the rearview mirror. Thankfully the guy is no longer holding onto the truck and is now tumbling down the street. I close the door and start making my way to i75 to go back home. Bloody head, coughing and smelling like Fire, I say out loud. I'm never doing this again. This happened to my mom in the 80s when she was younger and still dating, who would eventually be my dad when they were still young adults and dating. My father used to go with my mother's family to their beach apartment when I was a child myself. I used to love that place and never felt anything other than happy and comfortable there. My mom, however, had two very weird and uneasy experiences that she has given me permission to share. The first one happened when she and her sister, my aunt, were asleep in one of the bedrooms. They were in their twenties. One thing to mention is that the door to that bedroom didn't open in a conventional way. It was a heavy wood sliding door which also had to be opened with some force because it was very old. It made a loud noise whenever someone opened or closed it, so it was basically impossible not to notice if it was moved. This one night, it was around 2am and my mom was sleeping in her room. My dad was asleep in the guest room close to my mother's.
