B (5:25)

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A (6:10)

Evil exists and to keep me in check and on the right path. When I remember the reality of what happened and the sound of that voice, it still shakes me. I hope that none of you guys ever have to encounter what I did that day. Just take my word for it. On a fateful December morning in 1948, Somerton beach, with its tranquil sands and gentle waves, it became the setting for a mystery that would defy explanation for generations to come. The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon when a passerby stumbled upon a man's lifeless body. He was impeccably dressed in a well tailored suit and tie, giving the appearance of a man of refinement. However, upon closer inspection, it became evident that this was no ordinary discovery. It marked the beginning of an extraordinary enigma. The man's attire bore a peculiar characteristic. All labels had been surgically removed, leaving no clue to his identity. His footwear was of the finest quality, devoid of scuffs or signs of wear. Even more perplexing was the presence of an unlit cigarette hanging behind his ear, as if he had been interrupted mid smoke. The arrival of authorities at the scene led to an examination that would confound even the most seasoned investigators. The autopsy conducted on the unidentified man revealed no traces of violence, poison, or any obvious cause of death. His pupils were curiously constricted, hinting at the possibility of poison ingestion. Yet no poison could be detected in his system. His overall physical condition appeared to be robust, adding a layer of mysterious mystique to the baffling case. Amidst the absence of clues, a tantalizing lead emerged. A small scrap of paper was discovered hidden in an obscure pocket of the man's trousers. The paper bore a single phrase, tamam Shud. This cryptic phrase was found to be Persian, translated to ended or finished. It was a line from a book titled the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. The discovery led investigators to a copy of the book found in an abandoned car near the beach, within which a perplexing coded message was concealed. The plot thickened when investigators uncovered a telephone number belonging to a mysterious woman scribbled on a concealed page of the book. This number eventually led them to a nurse named Jessica Thompson. Initially, she vehemently denied any knowledge of the deceased man, but her behavior raised suspicions. Ultimately, she confessed to owning a copy of the same book, but denied any connection to the Somerton Man. As the years rolled on, a plethora of theories and conspiracies took root. Some speculated that the Somerton man was a spy embroiled in a web of espionage, while others contended that he had succumbed to natural causes or was entangled in a complex love affair. The backdrop of the Cold War era fueled suspicions of international intrigue. Nevertheless, the case remained unsolved, and the true identity of the Somerton man continued to elude investigators and amateur sleuths alike. The tale of the Somerton man represents a baffling enigma that has persisted for over seven decades. Despite relentless investigations and the tireless curiosity of amateur sleuths, the identity of the man and the circumstances of his death remain cloaked in mystery. The coded message, the enigmatic woman, the conspicuous absence of concrete evidence continue to tantalize those who seek to unravel the secrets hidden beneath the sands of Somerton Beach. Until the day the riddle is deciphered, the Somerton man shall remain a timeless symbol of the unknown within the realm of true crime. In the picturesque landscape of the Sierra Nevada mountains, the Keddie Resort stood as an oasis of tranquility. Cabin 28, a rustic yet charming abode, was the residence of the Sharp family. Sue Sharp, a devoted mother, her two children, Dana and John, and their friend Dana Wingate. The year was 1981, and Keddie was the epitome of a peaceful haven, a place where city dwellers sought refuge from their hectic lives. On the CRISP Morning of April 12, 1981, the peacefulness of Keddie was shattered by the return of Sheila Sharp, Sue's teenage daughter, from a neighbor's sleepover. The sight that greeted her inside cabin 28 was nothing short of a nightmare. Her mother, her brother, and their friend Dana Wingate lay dead, bound and brutally bludgeoned. The cabin was a scene of unimaginable violence, and Sheila fled in terror to seek help from the resort's management. Law enforcement arrived promptly, and the investigation into the Keddie cabin murders was launched. The crime scene was chaotic, with potential evidence strewn across the cabin. It was evident that this was no random act of violence. As the other children sleeping in the adjacent bedrooms remained unharmed. Suspicion quickly turned to Marty Smart, Sue Sharp's ex husband husband, and his acquaintance, Bo Boubied, who had been spotted around the resort on the night of the murders. Marty's wife Marilyn had joined them for part of the evening, but insisted that she left before the violence erupted. Both Marty and Bo had criminal records and a history of violent behavior. The investigation into the Keddie cabin murders was filled with twists and turns. Several leads were pursued, including potential connections to local drug dealers and organized crime. But the case eventually grew cold. The murders remained an enigma, haunting the memories of those who had been touched by the tragedy. In 2016, a glimmer of hope emerged when new evidence, including DNA, was unearthed. This development led to the arrest of three suspects. Marilyn Smart, her brother, Dana Wingate, and John Sharp's classmate, Justin. Justin, a mere child at the time of the murders, was believed to have witnessed the horrifying events. The cases against Marilyn Smart and Dana Wingate were subsequently dropped due to alibis that placed them away from the scene on the night of the murders. Tragically, Justin had taken his own life in 1982, and the justice for the Sharp family remained elusive. The Keddie cabin murders remain a haunting and unsolved chapter in true crime history. Despite the emergence of new evidence and suspects, justice for the Sharp family remains an unfulfilled promise. The shadows of Cast by the Sierra Nevada Pines continue to guard their secrets. And the legacy of the Keddie Cabin murders leaves an indelible mark on Keddie Resort forever, etching a chilling tale in the annals of the resort's history. This story isn't really scary so much as it is weird. There are no monsters, creatures, no creepers, no ghosts or demons. Just completely unexplainable happenings that I swear are true. Although I'm really not sure how. My wife and I recently had a child and decided to move somewhere with a little more opportunity for our family. There are four of us now. Myself, my wife, her son, my stepson, and our newborn son. My stepson just recently turned 11 and was a little apprehensive at first, but quickly settled into his new surroundings. I had come up two months prior to find adequate housing for the four of us and get a job that would support the move. I stayed on one of my old friend's couches and he was kind enough to let me stay as long as I needed to get established here. The revolution real estate market being what it is in Ontario, it was extremely challenging and nerve wracking. But at the last minute, right when I needed things to happen, I found a place. Once our newborn son was born and my wife was ready to travel, we quickly moved my family into the small upper level apartment I found for us in a small neighborhood of the city that we now call home. It's small, but it's clean and it's enough for us to get started in a new town. The apartment has access to the front door and a private entrance in the back that leads out to a long deck along the back of the duplex. The neighborhood we live in is a quiet residential area wedged between a major roadway and a set of industrial railroad tracks that mark the start of an industrial area. A short walk down the road road, past a concrete yard and an impound lot is another main road with a Walmart and a grocery store just around the corner. I really lucked out with a job too. The timing was great and the money I make now comfortably covers everything we need. I have to ride share to get there, but that's not really a problem in the area we live. It's a 25 minute walk in one direction down Queenston street to the downtown bus station where my rideshare picks me up. I don't mind the walking either. I'm the kind of person who will just daydream and tune out. I really love just walking and thinking and I make it a sort of ritual every morning to make that walk, grab a drink and really wake up before I get to work. I went to college here so I'm pretty familiar with with the area and it's really easy to just tune out and end up where I'm going without much thought. We don't drive, so once a week one of us will walk up to the grocery store plaza and do all of our shopping. One day about a month after we moved in, my wife and stepson went out to run some quick errands in the early afternoon while I stayed home with the baby and did some cleaning. The trip there and back usually takes about an hour with shopping and I like to play this game where I try to do as much tidying as possible before they come home if I stay behind. About 20 minutes later I was in the middle of doing some dishes when the front door opened and the unmistakable shuffle of my family came up the stairs. Surprised that they were back so early, I assumed they must have turned around. Maybe she forgot her wallet or something. But when she got to the top of the stairs she met me with an even more confused look on her face. I was about to ask why they turned around and if they had forgotten something and my stepson came up the stairs with a few arms full of grocery bags. Sorry it took us so long. We were on our way back and we just weren't sure what happened. What do you mean you've only been gone 20 minutes at most? I pointed out and looked at my phone to confirm. This is when it got a little weird and I noticed that they both seemed a little bewildered so I asked what was the matter and this is what they told me. They both swear up and down that when they were walking home from the grocery store they got to the railway line that borders the street start of the neighborhood and according to them the whole road just started over again. They both clearly remember walking down the majority of our road through the long section of the industrial area and then in the blink of an eye they were back at the busy road they turned off. Under any other circumstance, I might think maybe it was just them not really paying attention, but they both tuned out and didn't realize that they hadn't yet gotten to the tracks. But I did find it a little odd that they were back in 20 minutes with groceries when the trip takes about an hour and by their accounts it took them longer than that. At any rate, we just filed it under strange and got on with life pretty quickly. It was just weird. A couple of weeks later Later I was walking to the convenience store around the corner one night on my day off and when I was walking back from the store it only took me two minutes. This is hard to describe, but not only do I have zero memory of the space in between the convenience store and the turnoff onto my road, but I remember vividly getting to the store completely. I did a double take when I got onto my road and it was as as if the buildings between the intersection and the store were just sort of deleted. They simply were not there. I must be going insane. I thought to myself. I turned around. You tell yourself no one wants your college era band tees, but on Depop, people are searching for exactly what you've got. You once paid a small fortune for them at merch stands. Now a teenager who calls them vintage will offer that same small fortune back. Sell them easily on Depop. Just snap a few photos and we'll take care of the rest. Who knew your questionable music taste would be a money making machine? Your style can make you cash. Start selling on Depop where taste recognizes taste. Predator Badlands now streaming on Hulu and Hulu on Disney. 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B (21:32)

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A (22:02)

as directed Once again, not even a blink and the street corner was back to normal. What is going on? A little shaken and extremely confused, I quickly got back down the street and back to my place. When I got home, I was met with the same confused look that I had a few weeks prior, and my wife peeked her head out the door and down the stairs. Did you forget something? What is happening here? I live in southern Ontario, just off the north shore of Lake Erie in farm country. Nobody who still lives here can say it's the best place on earth to live. It's small, quiet and everything is far away. There aren't many jobs there, and if you want to stay there, your best bet is to pick a trade and commute to the nearest city. Although life here is kind of lackluster, I've always cherished those quiet drives through the Norfolk county countryside, especially on an autumn night as the sun sets shining low and casting its final light over the picturesque landscape. The roads wind through fields of golden corn dotted with wood, lots of pine trees and lined with rich thickets of sumac that line the route seemed to whisper secrets to the colors in the sundering skies. One night I decided to take one of my late night commutes. The air was crisp and the harvest moon cast this eerie silver glow over the fields of corn and the trees that lined the road. I knew these roads well, every twist and turn like the back of my hand. When we were younger, we would bike up and down the concessions and in and out of the trails, passing through the nearby conservation land, sometimes even walking it. We would often lock our bikes up to the trees alongside the road and hike into the forest and walk among the trees, trudging through thickets of brush and burdock, only to come out covered in burrs and mud. You could spend all day and night out there without a worry. There are no predators here, aside from the odd coyote, and they aren't likely to come near you in groups. We have lots of animals, sure. Foxes, badgers, lynx, possum. But nothing big. Nothing that is very likely to pose a threat walking out in the woods. In fact, out here you are far more likely to be mistaken for a deer by a hunter than you are to be attacked by an animal. We have no bears, no wolves, the odd mention of cougars, but these accounts are rare and heavily contested or given little thought. Even then, you would never see one even if they were here. On one particular night I found myself with downtime. I had the next four days off and I had just settled into a house to myself. My brother had moved away to Toronto a couple of months earlier and my parents were away for the weekend. My plans for this weekend were to have no plans. I was just going to chill on my own, buy a bunch of snacks and bask in the cool darkness of the basement and play Diablo. I had everything I needed at home, but I had elected to make a snack run and get some chips, pop and maybe some ice cream from the grocery store in town we lived out in the country north of a small hamlet called called Vanessa. The nearest grocery store was in Waterford, south of us by a few minutes drive. It's a nice drive into town if you take the back roads, and that was my plan. The roads were thick on either side with a tall ancient canopy of trees, light breaking through the tops of the trees to illuminate the road in golden stained glass, layers of green green fading into the deep shadows of the canopy. The lowering light of the sun at this time shows just how immense these particular woods are, a never ending sprawl of fallen leaves and mud lined with fiddlehead ferns and skunk cabbage fenced in by the trees along the roadside. On my way back from the grocery store, as I was heading down one of the more remote stretches of road, something in the distance caught my eye. At first I thought it was just a trick of the light. It seemed to race along behind me in the trees as I drove down the forested road. Upon further inspection it seemed to be running on all fours and it was starting to catch up to me. It moved with a sort of unsettling grace, as if it were on the hunt. As it got closer, my heart started to race as it began to overtake me as it jumped out in front of me, I slammed on the brakes and sent myself forward in my seat, looking up. It was about 10ft away from me, upright in the middle of the now moonlit road. There was no denying it. I was looking at a crowd creature, a creature that should have only existed in stories. This thing was massive, hulking and covered in matted fur. I Couldn't believe what I was seeing. My eyes locked onto this creature. It seemed so out of place in our world. It looked like a big black dog, but it was upright on its hind legs like a dog and had wide paws with opposable thumbs. They looked more like a human hand, with long sharp claws, gray like an elephant's hide, covered with fur among massive forearms. At first glance, it looked a little like a primate, were it not for a wiry canine tail and a snarling snout laden with countless sharp wolfish teeth. It stared with a bloodthirsty ferocity I have never encountered in my life up to this point and never again since then, and gave a deep booming growl that overtook all sound in the now still standing wilderness along the silent country road. I didn't even perceive the music that I had on at the time. Nothing really registered, aside from the horror I was witnessing. Ahead of me on the road. The moonlight revealed its eyes, which glowed with an unnatural amber light. It had a snout full of sharp, glistening teeth. Fear surged through me, but I could not tear my gaze away. The world felt suspended in that moment, like everything else had disappeared. And then the impossible happened. The creature turned its head to look at me. Our eyes met and a wave of terror washed over me, primal and raw. I was sure I was done for, that this thing was going to leap at me. Every bone in my body was frozen as time and space stood still. My blood froze as I awaited what was sure to be my doom. I was locked in place. I know what you're thinking. You're in a car. Why didn't you just hit the gas? But I just couldn't will my foot into action. There are three human reactions to exterior threats. Fight, flight and freeze. And I guess in that moment, my body chose to freeze. But then the unmistakable flash of high beams from a distant truck now speeding towards us broke the tension and the thing reacted, lifting its snout up in the air and sniffing as it turned to see the oncoming truck. As suddenly as it had appeared, the creature turned away and bounded off into the night, vanishing into the shadows of the trees. I could not believe my luck. Awestruck and still shaken up by what I had just seen, I sat there in the road, still struggling to come back to reality. As the truck approached, it slowed to a stop before it passed, me and the driver got out, apparently thinking something was the matter as I was parked in the middle of a concession at the at this point, just sitting there. Kid. Hey, kid, are you all right? The man shouted out from just Outside of his driver's side door. I jerked up and nodded at him. I tried to pull myself together as he walked up to my window and I rolled it down and looked out to him. You good? Should you be driving? The man clearly thought I was drunk or maybe too stoned and couldn't drive. I mean, I don't blame him. What am I supposed to say? I just saw a werewolf. I told him I was fine and that yes, I could drive. I quickly made it up that my engine had stalled and I just got in after fixing it and he nodded and got back in his truck, heading on his way down the road and out of sight. As soon as I got in, I tried my best to shake it off quickly, get my head together, and I slammed my foot on the gas pedal, putting as much distance between me and that terrifying encounter as I could. I drove back home that night, shaken to my core. I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen. Norfolk county had always been a place of beauty and tranquility for me. But that night I had come face to face with something I have since never been able to come to terms with. Something straight out of some German fairy tale from Grimm. When I got home, I hit the desk straight away and started looking up anything I could find that even remotely described what I saw. The closest thing I could find was a reference to something called the Loup garou or werewolf of Quebec City. But I couldn't find anything about anything of the sort in Ontario. I still can't explain what happened that night, and even now, most people don't believe me. But for me, the memory of that encounter with whatever was stalking cars in the middle of the country will always be etched in my mind. A chilling reminder that sometimes there are things we cannot explain or just are not ready to try. Explaining that there is more to this world than perhaps we know, and that maybe, just maybe, something, maybe even someone is lurking out in the woods of Ontario that for better or for worse, will never discover. When I was five, me, my mother and sister moved for the first time. My mother had divorced my father and decided to live someplace nicer, as she called it. After a 30 minute drive, we ended up in another town. We got settled in the house and started adjusting to our new life. The first weird thing I noticed in the house was the energy. There was just this off feeling to it, like something would be watching your every move. I would always quickly run upstairs when I would get ready for bed in order to not feel too scared before I would sleep. After A few weeks weeks. At the bottom of the wall, there was this weird face painted. It was no bigger than 1.5 inches, but it looked really off. The next day I told my mother and she said she had no idea where it was coming from. Even my stepdad didn't know, but no one ever dared to remove it. A few months later, me and my sister had our second encounter. We were laying in bed in our shared room. While we were both trying to get rest. In the distance, we heard some weird sounds. My sister, being the curious one, went up to the door and opened it slightly. The noise had gotten louder as she stood there listening. Eventually, she closed the door as she turned to my bed. There's a toy in the attic going off, she said. My sister was not scared easily, but I could tell she was getting nervous. We eventually saw the light turn on and heard our mother come upstairs. She went to the attic and the sound stopped. My sister laid back in bed and our mother actually got angry with us, assuming that we had gotten out of bed and secretly continued playing. The third encounter I experienced was by myself. I was laying in bed as it was a school night and because my sister was older, she had the privilege to go to bed later. My room had been really cold, despite the thick comforter and blanket I had draped over my body. I remember being in a light sleep before my eyes shot open. I had felt something hold my left hand softly, but my left side was the wall side, meaning no one could have been there. There was also no toys or stuffed animals that I could blame. I stayed up until my sister got upstairs to go to sleep. The energy in the house seemed to have shifted the last years of our stay. Our usual nice and funny stepfather had changed into an angry, narcissistic man doing everything to make our lives miserable. And our neighbor, who loved kids and was always happy, started to become creepy, staring out the window whenever we would play outside. She started complaining about us being too loud while we never slammed any doors or screamed inside the house. She even tried to attack my mother once with a broom. Our mother was less happy as well. Eventually, it all became too much and my mother and stepfather broke up. We started living somewhere else and everything seemed to instantly become better. We were happier and there were no weird, unexplainable things happening. When I went to high school, I. I started becoming best friends with this girl. I knew her from my childhood because we actually lived in the same street. She lived eight houses down, but I never actually played with her at home. When I was younger, when we were in high school though, we started hanging outside and inside. She was home alone, often living with a teen brother and a little sister and her mother. Her mother had two jobs, so she was barely home when we got out of school. When we grew closer, we started opening up about our pasts. She admitted that her father was a narc, an alcoholic and had anger issues. He came by their house every once in a while to bring home her youngest sister from school. Then he would eat with them and leave when her mother would come come home. My friend also started opening up by the weird things that were happening in her house. Eventually, she also told me that this wasn't the first house that they had had these experiences before me and my family moved there. My best friend had lived somewhere else about five minutes from their current place. She told me that there was an off vibe in the house and her mother actually invited a medium to look at it. My friend told me that when the medium arrived, she stepped in the hallway and had all the color drained from her face. She refused to go further in the house and left. After some digging, they had actually found out that there used to be a farm where the houses were standing and there had been an accident. Children were supposedly playing a movie the land and the farmer had not noticed them in time, running them over with the agriculture equipment. I honestly was freaked out by this, but nothing ever happened to me in that house, so I didn't refrain myself from coming there. Wrong decision. The day this following situation all went down started calmly. Me and my friend had actually gotten out of school early. So we decided to go to her house and watch American Horror Story upstairs. We got into the house and locked the doors behind us, heading into the living room where we hung out and ate something listening to the radio. When we were ready, we went upstairs putting on the show. After about two episodes, we heard the radio being turned up from downstairs. We both looked at at each other completely terrified. We were basically trapped upstairs as there was no safe way down from the house. My friend tried to convince me and herself that it was probably just her father trying to scare us. However, the music had not gotten turned down. I grabbed a blow dryer and made my way towards the hallway. My friend followed with a coat rack backhanger. We slowly went downstairs and I remember I was sweating bollocks. When we were almost down the stairs, I stopped in my tracks. Till this day, I don't know why. My body just would not move like an instinct. After about 10 seconds, the downstairs hallway door was thrown closed. We both stood there in of front shock, not knowing what to do. My friend had forgotten her key in the living room so we couldn't go through the front door. All of a sudden an anger came washing over me. What the heck does this thing think it is? I thought as the rage built up inside me. I stormed down the stairs, throwing open the door. The music from the radio was so loud it rang in my ears. When I was almost at the radio, I couldn't even hear the music anymore as the adrenaline was beeping in my ears. The world around me was spinning, almost like I had to physically fight whatever was doing this to us. I turned off the radio and there was a deafening sound of silence. My friend had chased behind me, looking at me with big eyes. After a moment I felt like I could breathe again. We were both standing frozen in our spots and eventually I told my best friend to check the doors. She nodded, hurrying to the front door as I hurried to the back. They were both locked. Her key was still sitting on the dining room table where she left it. My friend then quickly hurried upstairs checking if her brother was there. He wasn't. We went upstairs to grab our stuff and then stayed downstairs trying to calm down from the situation. My friend texted me later on saying her father and her brother had gotten home an hour later, both not knowing what she was talking about. We didn't hang out in her house for a good two months months after that, only slowly introducing the idea when it was raining outside. I don't know what is wrong with this neighborhood, but it is not natural.