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call her cheerleading coach at the school

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to let her know that she wasn't going to be there tonight so that she could be prepared for her absence. Keep in mind this is the mid-80s so there are no cell phones. My mom has to get up and walk all the way to the kitchen to use the phone. As she is walking through the house she starts to feel a bit creeped out. Like that classic feeling of something just not being right. That instinctual feeling we get when something is just telling us that we are in a potentially bad situation and may not even know it yet. Outside it is getting dark out and there are many lights on in the house which contribute to this uneasy feeling. Very important detail. The phone in my grandparents house had a longer cord than most phones at the time. She says that you could walk into other rooms and the cord was long enough that the phone could be brought out of the kitchen into the neighboring rooms which are the living room, the hallway and my grandparents bedroom. In the hallway by the kitchen and by my grandparents bedroom, my grandfather kept his weapons ready to go. Not the safest thing I guess, but when you live alone in the woods, I guess you want to be ready to defend yourself the second you know you're in trouble. He had always told my mom and aunt, do not touch those weapons unless your life is in danger. She took this very seriously and had never even thought about touching them. By this point she was in the kitchen and she dialed the number to call her coach and informed her about her illness. I believe they continued talking for a minute or so because she says that the coach was still on the phone when my mom heard strange noises coming from my grandparents room. My mother, very frightened, told the coach she heard something and grabbed the weapon off the wall, phone still pressed to her ear. She wasn't sure if she was overreacting and had imagined something. But she opened the door to my grandparents room and what she saw made her drop the phone right on the floor in shock. The window was completely open and there was a large man with one leg over the window sill and one leg still outside. What was so awkward about this was he had basically stopped in the middle of coming in when he realized he had been caught by her, as if he was not expecting someone to be home or that he simply did not expect her to have heard him coming in. They just stared at each other for a good five seconds. Him just halfway in the room and her just standing there in the doorway, phone on the floor. With my mom's coach still in the line, asking if she was okay, weapon in hand, staring at each other, but almost unsure what to do, my mom, terribly frightened, finally mustered up the will to speak. First, in a very shy and afraid voice, she managed to say, I I,

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I, I have a weapon.

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Turn around and leave or I'll use it. The man just stood there. She said it was as if he was wondering whether she was bluffing or not. Finally, after what seemed like hours of just staring, he suddenly swung his other leg in very fast and turned quickly, like he was about to charge her. My mother, terrified with her hands shaking, used the weapon and hit him in the shoulder. The impact was so much that it knocked her back on the floor and sent the man directly out the window he had come in. Blood was everywhere around the window. She picked the phone back up now, sobbing, telling her coach to call the police to her house. When she looked back, she saw the man running, clutching his shoulder, bleeding out all over the yard, running back to the woods behind their property. Keep in mind, he was wounded. This guy had basically just immediately gotten up like it was nothing and started sprinting off into the woods. I don't know the exact order of what happened next, but the police eventually did get there. My grandparents hurried home sometime shortly thereafter, and the police were still there. I think what was most weird about this story was that there was a trail of blood that the guy had left as he was fleeing the property that went out into the woods. The police investigated and found that it continued for some ways into the forest and eventually just stopped. There was no body or anything like

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the blood just stopped.

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And they never caught up with the guy. I think it's bizarre because she had seriously wounded him. And around the window in the room looked like the scene of a horror movie. How he got away apparently alive and so quickly without the cops catching up to him is very odd. She believes that he must have been on something. I agree with this theory because what kind of sane and sober person would have continued to break into someone's home when they have a weapon pointed in their face and have been caught in the act? Not to mention that once he had been wounded, he just took off like it was nothing, back into the woods. Regardless, I'm just happy my mother made it out okay. Who knows what could have happened if she had just fallen asleep and hadn't gotten up to make that phone call. I am a fresh teacher board passer last 12, 2018 so after getting my license, I was asked by a friend to become a substitute teacher in a nearby school for him since he is going to be gone for a month. I happily accepted and started the next week after so the class that I was going to be substituting for was a grade seven class. I was quite nervous to start, but the first day went well. However, on the night of my first day, my friend texted me me hey Bri, I forgot to tell you about one of my students. Anyway, his name is George. He's kind of weird and he might intimidate you, but don't worry, he's harmless. He just needs a little attention and guidance. By the way, thank you so much. I hope you have fun.

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Well, that's what he said.

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I was now aware of who the George kid was. He was small, wore glasses and was sitting in the back. His classmates were kinda mean to him, I must say. So I decided to be kind to him and to approach him since my friend told me he needs guidance and I wanted to help. Hi George, I'm Ms. Bree. How was your day today? I started the conversation while the rest of the students were leaving the room. Oh good. He replied shyly. Well, if you need any help, I'd be glad to assist you. I am now your new friend.

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Alright, I said.

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O okay, okay, thanks, he said and we parted ways. I didn't know that with that simple conversation everything would change. George started to smile at me. Not the cute smile, nor the innocent smile, but the smile that would send chills down your spine. I always smile back. And anyways, since a teacher should be friendly, random letters appear on my desk in the faculty room with a similar handwriting like George's, stating weird and very sensitive things about him, how he likes to stalk his classmates and more. He didn't sign the letters, but the handwriting was unique and I just knew it was his. I ignored it, which made it worse. I started to receive the same letters in my house. Someone ringing the doorbell at 3am for one whole week, my tires getting slashed, random accounts sending hate on my social medias, my windows being smashed and a lot more. I decided to let my friend, whom I had substituted for, know all the things that had been happening. He was very alarmed and told me to report it to the principal as soon as possible and so I did. George was called into the guidance office and was suspended for a week. I was not able to hear what he has to say as my friend already came back and was attending the class again. My friend shared everything to me though apparently me ignoring the letters made George upset. He felt like I lied to him about being his friend and so he started doing these things to me as his revenge. His parents visited me one day and apologized. I accepted it, told them to get help for their son. So to George, I'm sorry I didn't understand you, but please don't do this to your teachers. I would highly appreciate if you would

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get guidance and help.

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You are a smart kid and you still deserve to be treated nicely since you clearly need help. All of these events destroyed me and my love for teaching. I decided to have a fresh start to a new state and took therapies while I look for a different job. Specifically not teaching for now.

Storyteller 2 (12:24)

This happened about three years ago and it was during one of my little road trip phases that I had when I moved to the city from my little hometown down south. It was spring break 2018 and my teenage antics were at an all time high as I was only a sophomore in high school at the time. Needless to say, my friends and I were quite the avid users of alcohol respectively. Not that I endorsed its use or anything. I mean, we were just teens at the time. I had just made the trip down to my hometown and was relaxing at my friend's house when my friend who I was staying with at the time suggested that we should take a camping trip and have some fun since I was down there for the break. My friend's name is Doug by the way, and our other friends who were invited were Lewis and Isaiah, while I go by the name Eric. Doug had found this really cool camping spot out by a lake that neither me, Lewis or Isaiah had ever been to, and needless to say, I'm an outdoorsy person and I was excited about the whole thing, not even the slightest

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bit aware of what awaited us.

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On the second day of my trip back to my town of youth, we decided to head out early in the morning and pack a couple of beers and hard liquor bottles into the cooler with our other camping materials. This was a small town mind you, so getting these things was as easy as taking candy from a baby. Since I was the only one with a license at the time, it was my responsibility to drive us, and since I was staying with Doug, that meant we only had to Pick up Lewis and Isaiah on the way. We began the drive to the camping spot which was a good 45 minute drive from where our town was located. We blasted the tunes of uncanny rappers and nonchalant music that every teen was listening to at the time. Although I wish I had better taste in music. We drove past the trees that winded down the sides of our road leading out of town and almost always they would encompass the sunlight beaming overhead with their tall sprawling branches. We cleared the woods into an opening of farm fields on both sides while we were following an old road that had a turn off which one direction led to the highway while the other led to an older run down much smaller town than ours that led to

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the lake we were driving to.

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Without a second thought, I put the turn signal on leading to the road

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opposite of the highway which led to

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a much more dense and dark forest. The trees blocked most of the sunlight just as the others did, but this was much more noticeable as we had barely enough sunlight to not turn our headlights on. The road turned to dirt and the rocks could be heard bouncing off the side of my tires. Nonchalantly, we passed the first few houses and immediately noticed there was something off about these houses. It wasn't that they were old trailers or anything, it's just that they all had a tin like chimney that were pumping out smoke in the air and it was the beginning of spring so it wasn't even that cold. We continued down the old dirt path that led to the lake and after passing the rest of the houses down that road, we noticed that almost all the houses had that same tin like chimney with smoke blowing out the top.

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We arrived at the spot near the

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lake and needless to say it was

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a pretty cool spot since it was

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the only spot that had a bit of an opening in its trees on one side due to the lake being right next to us. The dirt path that led to the spot wound around a circle and in the middle there was a tiny grass patch with three tiny trees surrounding it. I parked my car next to the middle of the circle and we decided to set up our tent near the patch. With our soon to be campfire being in the middle of the patch, we split into two groups. Me and Doug were to gather firewood while Lewis and Isaiah gathered rocks to make the pit. Doug and I headed the direction opposite of the lake where the ever so dense forest awaited us with open arms to gather our sticks and leaves. Have you met any cute chicks up in the city yet? Or are you still too much of a wimp to even ask for their number.

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Doug said.

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You know me man. It's always the latter. He laughed and I shrugged it off with a chuckle as it's usually his motive to tease me since we are good friends. As we gathered our firewood, Doug casually looks up from his task and notices something up ahead in the tall grass which almost surpassed our shoulders at this point.

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You see that rusty old truck up there?

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Doug asked. I looked up and saw what he alluded to and said, you mean that old rust bucket? Yeah, I see it. I wonder who left it there. We casually picked up the remainder of the firewood and headed back to our camping spot. Dusk was beginning to set in and it was about this time that we cracked open the cooler full of liquor and sat down at the bristling campfire we made to accompany us. We sat in our circle telling awful horror stories and failed attempts at getting the ladies, all while laughing and having a good time as we sipped our beers and broke out the shots. My body count is at least 10 by now, but I'm not sure since I stopped counting. Counting.

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Lewis boasted.

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So what? You can't count now, mister. I've slept with 10 people but I'm not counting. Isaiah laughed.

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You.

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You guys.

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I say we toast to that. I slurred.

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We all laugh and raise our beers in unison. The darkness around the campfire and the surrounding woods had completely set in at this point and to say the least, we were all fairly drunk since at this point point we were all walking a straight line around the campfire, acting as if we could pass a sobriety test. Doug falls next to the log we were sitting on and Lewis as well as Isaiah followed suit while I wasn't exactly getting a grasp on our makeshift sobriety test and kept stumbling and falling over next to them as they laughed at my effort. Sh. Shut up guys. Cut me some slack. I took a long deep breath breath and exhaled with a bloated face as I could feel the alcohol lingering in my throat. I immediately felt a sudden urge to go vomit so I told them I would be right back and they laughed even harder since they figured what I was going to do. I made it all the way to where the tall grass was and let my stomach do the talking. I didn't notice how dark the surrounding area actually was until I finished my business and turned back to see the campfire in the distance, which looked like a small speck compared to what surrounded us. Just then I heard a rustling in the woods and turned around with my phone in hand and turned the flash on to see what caused the ruckus. Me being drunk at the time, I literally had no thoughts in my mind and me being curious. I decided to go check it out and ventured a bit deeper into the grass. With the dark of the branches looming all around me. I stubbed my toe against what seemed like a rock and I almost let out a screech until I settled down and shrugged it off. I pulled my flash up to see what it was and lo and behold, it was the front tire of the truck me and Doug had found earlier. I raised the flash a bit higher and got a better view of the whole truck and its layout. It was a rusty old grass Marine ford, probably early 90s or so, and with a raised bed cover that had windows on the sides of the COVID with cracked glass on almost every one. It looked as if it had sat idle there for a good 10 years without moving. I raised my flash a bit higher towards the front cab of the truck and peered inside, seeing old newspapers, crushed up beer cans and strangely enough, a few needles laying on the floorboard. That's when my curiosity simmered down a bit and my fear began to set in as I shifted my attention towards a sound that came from the back of the cab in the bed cover. I slowly walked with every grass and leaf crunching under my feet. I reached the back of the cab and shakily raised my flash up the side of the truck and into the window of the back cab. The flashlight pull peered up the glass of the window and as I raised it higher, my heart sank into complete and utter terror. What peered out of the glass at me was a man with eyes that had no pupils and a smile that only a man on the edge of sanity could perform. He banged his arm against the glass and the shock of the sound sent me flying onto my back into the grass and dropping my phone. I frantically grabbed my phone from the ground and without a second thought raised the light back to the man only to see him banging on the window with much more force. His arms were bleeding, his shirt tattered with years of misfortune and face meshed with scars. He began to bulge his eyes from his sockets as he laughed horribly and began to cry hysterically. I knew you would come. It's you. About time you brought the fun to me. I let out a blood curdling scream and with my heart racing a mile a minute, I wasted no time in hightailing it from the truck back to the campfire. I turned around to see the man

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get out of the truck.

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And he turned to face me, tilting his head with his murderous smile and deep white eyes illuminating through the moonlight that shined down as he began to walk towards me. My running turned to sprinting and I ended up slamming into the cab campfire that we set up, which made me fall face first into the gravel and dirt. The fire was now on its last legs and was almost out at this point. However, my legs were now caught in a bit of flames and with my frantic rolling about on the ground, the fire on my pants were almost instantly put out. Eric, what the hell is going on? Doug shouted.

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I looked up at the three who

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were in complete fear at this point point and oblivious as to what lied in the woods just beside us. There's a man in the woods. In the truck. The truck we found.

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Out of breath.

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I said it as fast as I could get it out. That's when our attention shifted towards the truck in the tall grass. Two headlights beamed out of the grass and the truck engine roared to life ferociously. All of our hearts sank and we instantly sobered up and realized the direness of our situation. Get in the car.

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Lewis shouted.

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Me, Doug and Isaiah looked at each other in a frantic agreement and booked it to the car and locked the doors as soon as we got inside. Breathing heavily and shaking from what lied in the dark of the woods, we all agreed to start the car and get out of Dodge. We started the car only to find the headlights of the truck begin to move and encircle us around the campsite.

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Just put it in drive before he rams us. Isaiah shouted.

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I floored the accelerator and high tailed it from our camping spot, leaving the tent and booze behind because at this point they didn't matter. The truck began to follow us and steadily gained speed on us as we began our death race towards the exit of the woods.

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The houses we saw earlier all had

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their lights on and with each house there was someone standing. Standing in the dark with the light illuminating behind them. All of them standing there just watching us. Every single one.

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What is this? I shouted.

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The trees seemed as if they grew 100ft higher and now fully encased us within these woods. And the darkness felt as if it was chasing us out of its home and screaming at us in agony. The truck behind us was almost touching my bumper at this point and when I peered peered into the rearview mirror, I saw the man one last time. His eyes were stabbing mine as if to say I will kill you. His pupils were non existent and his smile somehow seemed more impossibly forced than before, and he was laughing to the point of insanity. I thought this was the end for us. Suddenly we shot out from the dark of the woods and into the open farm field from earlier, and the truck behind us slammed its brakes and we

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could hear the screech of its tires

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so loudly it felt like it busted our eardrums. I looked in the mirror to see the truck slowly creep back into the forest from which it came, the darkness swallowing it up once again. We didn't play any music the rest of the way home, nor did we

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speak a word to each other about what had happened.

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Our heart rates were all up from the moment we pulled into Doug's driveway, and when we got out we let out a sigh of relief. We each made our way to his shed where he stays, and we all grabbed waters and some food to calm us down. We watched some comedies and tried to talk our minds off the events that had transpired due to the constant laughing of the movies and shows we watched. I had to step outside as I thought I was having a panic attack. All I could hear was that man laughing at me hysterically. I knew it was you.

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I shook my head and took long,

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deep breaths and headed back inside. I still keep in touch with these friends even though high school was all but ended. They are still my closest friends and probably always will be. Although I have still yet to find my groove with the ladies and much hasn't changed since then. One thing will never change. I will never forget the pure white of that man's eyes as well as his murderous smile. One thing that has bothered me until this very day is the fact that Doug and I noticed the truck very early on in the day. That man watched us for hours and I can't help but think about what those people were doing on the porches, just staring at us, not doing anything. Was this all cool? Coordinated? Were they just too scared of the man? Or were they like the man and wanted this corner of the globe to stay all to themselves? Well, in any case, you win.

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You can keep those woods all to yourselves.

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After receiving my bachelor's degree, I wanted to take some time to see the world before settling down in a career. I ended up taking a job as an English teacher in South Korea. I loved the adventure of being alone in an entirely different culture on the other side of the world. However, as a young woman, I received a lot of unwanted attention from the men there who tended to fetishize foreign women and disrespect boundaries. However, I was strong trained in martial arts, and was pretty comfortable in my ability to defend myself, so I didn't let it get to me. One night, however, I had a close call. I was heading home from work after dark, walking the several blocks home to my apartment. This night, however, something was different. I soon became aware of footsteps behind me that followed me the entire way. It could just be a coincidence, I thought. There were always a lot of people on the sidewalks anyway.

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But this just felt off.

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I made it to my apartment, which

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was on the third floor of a

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small building above a Chinese restaurant. There were only about nine apartments total in the building, so the fact that

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the footsteps continued to follow me as

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I entered the building and climbed the stairs made it less likely that this was a coincidence. Whatever I thought, if the guy wants trouble, he's going to find it. I continued up to my apartment, unlocked it, and went in. I didn't bother locking it because, as I always did, I was only coming in to change into my tennis shoes and get my dog to take her

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out for a walk.

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My dog was a rather large Alaskan malamute. Like me, she stood out like a sore thumb in this city because most everyone else only owned cute little toy breeds with their fur dyed bright colors. When I walked Hiori, people often let out a scream and ran to the

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other side of the street.

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Anyway, upon entering my apartment, I removed my work shoes, got Hiori, and went back to the door to put on my sneakers. As I bent down to pull them on, I leaned against the door for balance and fell through as the man who had been following me was opening it, not expecting me to stumble out with a monster dog. The man looked shocked and frightened. He grabbed his keys out of his pocket, went over to my neighbor's door, and pretended to be fumbling with them to open it. I gave him a look as if to say, yeah, right, locked my door, and took Hiori down the steps outside. Once I made it outside, I crossed the street and hid behind a car. Sure enough, within seconds, the man, supposedly my neighbor, emerged from the building, looked around for a while, and then left. He had clearly spotted me walking home and saw his opportunity to follow me and break in and attack me. Had I not leaned against the door at that moment, he would have burst in and attempted to proceed with his plans. This incident shook me, but I never let it, or the others, before or since then, stop me from doing what I want to do or go where I please. I just go prepared, ready to take action. The next time a man makes a bad decision.

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When I was about eight years old,

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my dad moved after my parents divorced to a nice neighborhood with two of his friends. My mom had full custody of us, but she was pretty lenient about letting us stay with him. So over the summer we would go back and forth each week. I had an older brother who was 9 and a younger sister who was 6. But all of the kids in the neighborhood were closer to my sister's age, so I usually hung out with them. Our closest friend was a girl named Riley.

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And our favorite thing to do was

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hang around this old tower like thing

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that sat at the very edge of some woods.

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The man who owned it was old

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and sweet and usually didn't care that

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we hung around it. Sometimes he would even let us go inside to look at all of the chimes that went off every hour. One day, my sister and I were at Riley's house when we all decided

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to pay a visit to the tower.

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Like usual, when we got there, we

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sat on the steps of it and

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talked, occasionally chasing each other around or

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messing with our bikes.

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But eventually we all three decided we were bored.

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I have an idea. Riley said. We should go play in the World Woods.

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Under most circumstances, this would have sounded like a wonderful idea to me.

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But the wooded area behind the tower

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was filled with poison ivy. My sister was on board, but I tried to explain to them both that

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we couldn't because of the ivy. Instead of just agreeing, Riley told us that we could go back to her house and put on long pants and hoodies to protect ourselves. My sister was still completely on board, so I eventually gave in and we

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went back to her house to get changed. When we arrived back at the tower,

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we made our way into the woods

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and for the first hour or so, it was fine. There was in fact a lot of

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poison ivy, but the long pants kept it off our bare legs, so we paid it no attention. As we got deeper and deeper, something stuck out to me. There in the middle of the woods was was a house.

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It wasn't old or anything.

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It actually looked very well kept. The only strange part was the fact

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that there was no road leading to it.

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Sure, there was a thin dirt path that led to one of the neighborhoods

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close by, but it was hard to

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imagine any car would ever make it down. Being the stupid kids we were, Riley

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insisted that we get closer to it and snoop around.

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My sister and I saw no problem with this. This. And one by one, we inched our way to the mysterious house. It didn't seem like anyone was home because there were no Lights on and no one outside. The strangest thing, though, was that the garage was wide open. Inside were parked two large John Deere tractors just sitting there next to each other. Before I could even protest, my sister ran into the garage and began roaming around. Reluctantly, Riley and I followed and soon enough we were all three completely inside, just snooping. After only a few minutes, the loud sound of metal grinding filled the room and I jolted my head back to the garage door, which was currently closing. My sister and Riley began screaming and crying, but we were all too frozen in place to try and even make it out. It was now pitch black inside and I could hear the sound of something, someone speaking quietly outside. The voice sounded like it belonged to a man, but I couldn't tell what he was saying or pinpoint where exactly he was. I gave myself only a few seconds to panic before my older sister instincts kicked in and I did my best to shush Riley and my sister. I looked around and noticed there was another door at the back of the garage that led outside and we got on all fours and began crawling towards it as quietly as we could. Thankfully, it was unlocked and I threw it open before we all sprinted out and continued into the woods, not wanting to get caught by whoever had locked us in. After the house was out of sight,

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we all stopped to take a breath

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and immediately Riley started tearing into my sister, yelling at her and calling her mean names. I told Riley to leave her alone, but she ignored me and continued until my sister was crying again. Soon enough I started yelling at Riley and after I got a few insults out, I took my sister's hand and stormed off back toward the tower, not caring if Riley was following or not. By the time we made it back out of the woods, I immediately got on my bike and pedaled toward the end of the street. My sister and I sat there for a moment to make sure that Riley came out too, but about 1010 minutes passed and she hadn't shown up. I figured she was just being slow and told my sister it was time to go home. When we got home, I was so freaked out that I asked my dad if he could take us to my mom's house early. We didn't come back to my dad's for another week, and when we did, we decided to go over to Riley's to see if she was still mad at us. When we got there, Riley's mom answered the door and told us to get get off her property and never come back. We asked her why and she said, the last time you guys hung out with Riley. She wasn't seen for hours. When she finally came out of the woods she was so scared she wouldn't even speak. She's been having nightmares all week and won't tell me what happened. I spoke to your father and he told me nothing bad happened, but I don't believe him. You two are never allowed to hang hang out with her again and then closed the door in our faces. I am 19 now and my sister nor I ever spoke to Riley again. And to this day I don't know what happened to her in those woods. She couldn't have gotten lost considering it was a straight shot from where we were back to the tower. But honestly, I have always been too afraid to ask, fearing that whoever tried to trap us in their garage had somehow gotten a hold of her. A few days ago I was telling my roommate about this tower and the story of Riley when he told me he was curious what it looked like. I opened Google Earth and typed in my dad's old address and then followed down the street till I found it. He then asked me to show him the house in the woods, but as I zoomed out and scrolled up I saw that there was no house shown. It was like it didn't take even exist. You could still see the dirt path but it led to nothing. My father moved out of there before I even turned nine and I had never been back to investigate. I really hope Riley is doing better though. To set the scene. I was a young boy about 4 or 5 years old. My family and I were living in a creepy house in the town of Fort Erie in Canada. There were various encounters in this house that I recall, but I will only tell you a couple for now. The first encounter took place in my room late at night to paint a picture of what my room looked like. It was a normal sized room with lightly painted walls. Doorway straight in front of my bed

Storyteller 2 (37:28)

and off to the side there was

Storyteller 1 (37:30)

an attic crawl space door which always gave me a creepy feeling playing in my room. I decided to get up and go see my mother. For some reason as I walked back to my room, I distinctly remember the TV playing that signature eerie music from a horror movie scene where someone was being murdered. As I walked up the stairs, I could still hear that music flow faintly from the tv. As I stepped into my room, the room lit up super bright. At the same time the eerie music from the TV amplified in my room. The light bulb exploded and the music stopped. I ran down the stairs screaming to my mother. She comforted me Like a great mother would. Then we went upstairs and she convinced me that it was nothing. Remember this. Deep down I knew something was not right. And I always got that feeling of being watched in my room. The second encounter took place some months later and would cause me to stop sleeping or even going into my room. It was late and I was in bed as I had school in the morning. Soundly sleeping, I imagine I do not recall anything before this event. I cannot remember why I woke up, but it was probably an eerie feeling or something. Either way, I awoke. As I opened my eyes, I noticed a figure standing over me. Thinking it was my mother, I wiped my eyes and asked what she wanted. There was no reply.

Storyteller 2 (38:56)

I looked at the figure and noticed

Storyteller 1 (38:58)

it was not my mother at all, but some older woman just smiling at me. Frozen with fear, I managed to let out a scream for my mother. My parents, in a frenzy, flicked on the light as they came in to see what was wrong. And as they did, the figure disappeared, never to be seen again. I told them there was an old lady in my room. My father laughed and said, go to bed. And my mother asked what she looked like. So I described the woman. My mother calmed me down, but I eventually asked to sleep in their room. She said okay, and from that day on, I never went near that room and even started sleeping in the same room as my sister who was a baby. Years later, my mother and I were talking about events in the Fort Erie house with friends. She then told me that the description I gave of the woman sounded like her grandmother. I know my stories sound unbelievable and I have had trouble believing it myself.

Storyteller 2 (39:58)

But as I got older, I have

Storyteller 1 (39:59)

had more experiences with various other spirits at different locations. I should also mention that my family is very in tune with the spirit realm. My mother also informed my sister and I that her grandmother was a Hungarian gypsy. Even now, as I tell this story, I am getting shivers up my neck and I feel like there is something unexplained around me. My pound rescue dog is a walker hound named Charlie. Best way to describe a walker hound would be an overgrown beagle that weighs around 60 pounds and is about the size of a common Labrador. People often ask if my dog Charlie is a beagle. I get asked this very often and I give them a short lesson of the difference between a walker hound and a beagle. I am a single bachelor who lives alone in a house in a quiet suburb with my best friend Charlie. Of course, I love my dog as if he were my child. Charlie and I have our routine Morning and evening walks where we always walk through a public city park just down the street from my home in a scene seemingly safe suburban neighborhood. Charlie and I are rarely the only ones in this park when we stroll through, as this park is very popular from many dog owners in my neighborhood. Charlie is a friendly dog who wants to meet and greet every dog that passes us by, be it a big dog or a small dog. If another dog and their owner drew near, Charlie always eagerly pulls on his leash to get closer and closer, try and make a fellow canine companion. One evening nearly two weeks ago, Charlie and I were finishing up a long walk and were heading back home. The night sky had just arrived after the sun hid itself behind the mountains. We were walking the dimly lit streets of the subdivision and I decided to take a shortcut through the city park where Charlie and I always frequent. We walked along the asphalt trail that curves and bends around tall maple trees toward the tennis courts. We continued walking this trail to the part where it forks into two separate directions. The right trail takes you back to the street and out of the park toward my home. The left trail takes you into a thicket of dense bushes toward an elementary school. As Charlie and I walked past the forked trail and veered right, I could see someone coming right out of the woodwork from the left trail.

Storyteller 2 (42:35)

Two very large belligerent dogs with jet black fur.

Storyteller 1 (42:39)

These huge dogs were bound on a double leash, being walked by a middle aged male and female couple. I don't know what breed these dogs were, but the best way I can describe them would be a mix between a German shepherd and a husky. They both looked identical and easily weighed at least £100. As soon as these dogs laid eyes on Charlie and I, they barked furiously, pulling hard at their owner's ropes and got into attack mode. The two belligerent black dogs pulled hard against their feeble female owner who was trying with all her might to hold them back. While her significant other did nothing to help. I knew trouble was afoot. But before Charlie and I could make our getaway, the woman obviously lost her grip on the reins of the double leash. If immediately the belligerent dogs charged and started attacking and biting Charlie. Charlie is no match for these two attack dogs that are much larger than he is. Charlie is howling in fear and pain, trying to get away. My protective dog dad instincts ignite and I begin kicking these mutts in the head as hard as I can, protecting Charlie at all costs. Seconds felt like minutes as I was fighting these wild attack dogs. Dogs in the Scuffle. The double leash that held these two vile attack dogs together had wrapped around my body and brought me down to the ground. Once on the ground at their level, all three dogs run around in circles, binding me very tightly in the double leash. Charlie's cries for help and the attack dogs barking and growling were the only sounds I heard. Wildly, I fight with everything I got as I punched and kicked the dog. These vile mutts, as they tightly bind me with their double leash, holding me in place, the man and woman finally rush over and restrain their vile animals from inflicting further harm upon Charlie and I. The double leash is tightly bound around my lower abdomen and tangled up amongst myself, Charlie and the attack dogs. The man and woman frantically work to untangle me and the dogs from the mess. I'm so sorry, they both explain. At this point, pure fury flowed through me. I harshly smack down their apology and say something along the lines of, get me out of this mess and keep better track of your attack dogs. I should call the police on you negligent people. They begged me not to, and I was still tangled up in the mess with the dogs and I was still at their mercy to be let go. So I had no choice but to wait while they unwound the leashes and freed me from the mess they got me in. I was disgusted by the mere existence of this man and woman who brought two very large and vicious attack dogs to a public park. Even though I knew they were sincerely apologetic, I was too angry to accept that it was an accident. While they untangled me, I scanned my body and my dog Charlie's for any open wounds and injuries. Thankfully, I found none. After standing up off the ground, I got Charlie beside me and I yelled at both of them to f off and die. The man who should have helped his girlfriend restrain the dogs had the nerve to reply, you should f off and live. Boiling with rage, I cannot remember my exact words, but I told both of them something along the lines of that I should call the police to report their irresponsible dog ownership and that I never want to see them in their ugly mutts in the park ever again. Of course, the man was bullheaded and kept mouthing off to me. Well then, if you don't want to see us, don't come to the park. Will you shut up? The girlfriend yelled back at him. The woman was trying to calm her man down, telling him that I'm not worth it and to move on. Yeah, listen to your woman, I shot back. One more word from you and I

Storyteller 2 (46:27)

will call the cops to that.

Storyteller 1 (46:29)

They walked away. You might be thinking, why didn't you call the police? Why did you let them get away? At the time, I did not want to let them get away. But my merciful side overtook me that evening because I was once in a similar situation as this couple was before I adopted Charlie three years ago. that time, I was pet sitting a pit bull on a nature trail. This pit bull broke loose and attacked a nearby camper's cat. At that time, I disciplined the pitbull and rescued the cat from near death. The cat's owners wanted to report me to the police as well. But a long story short, I de escalated that situation and made sure the cat was safe and sound and they decided to cancel calling the police. If I was given a second chance from someone who was a victim of my irresponsible actions of pet ownership, I could give this couple a second chance as well. Next week I'm going to be enrolling in self defense classes and this experience with the two attack dogs has inspired me to purchase a stun baton with 7 million volts to zap any approaching attack dog with malicious intent. I consider myself very fortunate that this incident went down the way it did with no injuries to myself or Charlie. But next time I might not be so lucky.