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- [00:00]
Narrator
Hey, before this episode begins, I just want to let everyone know that my film that I've been producing for the last two years, Gale Yellow Brick Road, is now streaming on Chilling. So if you weren't able to go see it in theaters a couple months ago, no worries. Click the link in the description to this video or just search Chilling in your app store and you can watch Gale Yellow Brick Road tonight at home. I really hope you enjoy. Please leave an honest rating and review on IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes. Thanks again. Hey welcome back to the podcast. I really hope you enjoy this episode and if you'd like to hear more stories like these with a different background sound, please check the description to check out my other two podcasts. And if you want to get rid of all of the ads, you can subscribe for just $2.99 a month. Last thing, I really appreciate you being here and I'd really love if you would follow the podcast and come back again soon. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy. This summer I decided to pick up some graveyard shifts at my current full time job simply because it pays more and I am a university student drowning in student debt. About two weeks ago, on the rare occasion that I get to sleep during the time the sun is down at 3:30 to 4:00am, I was suddenly awoken by a loud sound. Me being half asleep, I honestly didn't know what the sound exactly was, so I just chalked it up to being one of my neighbors dropping something because I live in an apartment with very thin walls, so I just try to go back to sleep. After about 10 minutes of laying there with my eyes closed, I hear the sound again, but this time I am pretty much awake so I recognize what the sound was immediately. Someone was knocking on my window. For context, I am a single female living alone and in a basement suite, so my windows are basically level with the sidewalk. Obviously I am freaked out. I don't know what to do. I don't want to move and make any loud noises so they don't know I am home and I am just frozen laying in this bed. Then I hear the knocking again. I instantly bold up as my fight or flight kicks in and run to the front door which has my keys with my pepper spray on it. The keys clink together and make a noticeable sound and the knocking starts to get more intense and loud. This is when I realize the window with the screen by my bed is almost all the way open because my cat likes to sit on the edge and I forgot to close and lock it I start to freak out. Already having major anxiety, I start looking for my phone just in case I need to call the police. Me being clumsy and shaking from anxiety, I drop the phone on the ground and whoever is at my window proceeds to what sounds like slit either their fingernails or a sharp off object down the screen. I realized this person's intentions are either to come in or scare me. So like an idiot and not thinking, I run to the window as fast as I can, slam it shut and lock it while avoiding looking outside at whoever it was. The knocking stops and I wait about 30 minutes without hearing anything else. I lay back down and eventually fall back asleep. The next morning I honestly couldn't believe that even happened. I start to think maybe it was a dream so I go outside and investigate and I see an empty beer bottle and a ripped blanket. I text my only friend who knew where I lived and asked them if they were messing with me and they said no, which I figured because they don't drive and live quite far away and the buses around my house stop running well before 3am So I called my landlord and told him what happened and he says to ignore it and that this has happened before, which is creepy. Anyway. I obviously recognize now I should have done a lot of things differently and called the police right away. It hasn't happened since. Nonetheless, still super terrifying. This story I am about to tell only a few people close to me have ever heard. However, I never actually explained in detail what happened that night to absolutely anyone. For this story specifically it is necessary to explain my general area I live in as it pertains to this event. I live next to Yellowstone national park, which in of itself has drawn millions of tourists each year. Part of the reason I am telling this is merely a warning to people who decide to visit during the summer months. Last year, in the summer of 2020, me and some of my buddies decided to go have a night out and do some camping out near a spot where we have been to multiple times in the past. After all, this was right after things started to become normal again and lockdowns were lifted. I decided to head up to the camp spot early in an effort to make sure my gear was still set up from earlier that day. I did this as an effort to reserve the spot as it's first come first serve. Therefore, with everything in hand, I left my house right before sunset. We were all supposed to meet up within the hour so I didn't really have any concerns of being by myself. I then began my 30 minute drive up to the location When I finally arrived, I immediately noticed my tent and everything inside was gone. Now just for some context, I staked the tent down in multiple areas just to be sure it stayed for the period I was gone. Inside was my sleeping bag and a few other miscellaneous items I left just to keep it weighted down. However, everything, literally everything disappeared as if it was never there. I looked around and even the stakes and rocks I placed on the outside were missing. I immediately knew something was wrong because I did not see any campers on the way up. Also, keep in mind I do not have cell service as it's a couple miles back into the wilderness. I then decided to drive back down from where I came to get service and get ahold of my friends and let them know what happened. Least to say I was not happy with the situation and knew that whoever took my belongings were still in the area as it had only been there for an hour or two. However, my friends insisted that I stayed and at least hang out for a few hours as it took weeks of planning. So once I made sure everyone arrived, I then decided to go around the area in search of any sign of footprints or indications that maybe these people were close by. As you can guess, I wasn't able to find anything.
- [07:24]
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- [08:25]
Narrator
it off and decided I would just look for it in the morning and contact the Forest Service to report it missing. I also didn't want to ruin the party for everyone and decided to stay. In hindsight, this was by far one of the worst decisions I could have ever made. As the night went on, everything seemed fine, so I thought around one or two in the morning. Most of My friends decided to call it a night. I ended up sleeping in my truck. This was perhaps one of the better decisions I made that night. That, along with always making sure to bring my bear spray and sidearm for protection from unexpected guests, I eventually fell asleep. However, it's important to note that I was still a bit on edge, as only a couple hours before all of my belongings were taken, I decided to leave my window rolled down a bit just in case I heard anything creep up on us in the middle of the night. After about two hours of me being asleep, my worst nightmare came true. At first, I just heard something moving around outside of our camp. This was enough noise to wake me up, and I immediately froze and I didn't move whatsoever. Therefore, this was partially because I knew whatever was making the noise was large, not just a raccoon or any other smaller creature. I then was paralyzed, just listening intently to whatever was happening outside of our camp. My first thought was that it was a bear. We also had sightings recently in the area. At one point, I swear, it could have only been maybe 20 or 30 yards away. Also, another key point I noticed was that there was absolutely no other noises. Usually there's grasshoppers or birds, but it was complete and utter silence. Now, in a wilderness, that's never a good sign. It means there's a large predator or something of the like in the area. Meanwhile, it's pitch black outside and our fire had completely gone out. After about 15 minutes of not hearing anything, I decided I just needed to stop being paranoid. But just as I was about to fall back asleep, eventually I saw something to the right of our campsite. It was just a few yards away from our fire pit and probably about 20 yards from me. To my absolute horror, it was a person. I immediately freaked out. This was no average person either, let alone the fact that it's three or four in the morning and you're in someone's campsite. This person was wearing what I made out to be some kind of mask. I got a very good look at whoever it was, and it was a deer skull on their face. They were wearing a black robe. And that's about all I noticed. I sure didn't want to leave my truck and confront this person, so I did what I thought was best. I turned my truck on and began honking the horn until all my friends were awake. I rolled down the window and told them, we need to get out of here. Immediately after seeing what I saw, then did exactly that. Meanwhile, this person hasn't moved, mind you. Just as I thought it was bad, the situation got even worse. More of these figures began appearing in front of us through the trees. Wearing the same outfits as mentioned earlier, but with a multitude of different masks. I immediately put my truck into reverse and began speeding away. They began walking closer and closer, but luckily I was able to drive out of this spot in time. As I began to speed down the road out of there, three more of these figures appeared out from the side of my truck, this time with a dog and way more aggressive than the previous ones I saw. They began throwing rocks at my truck and chasing after me. At one point, they were literally right next to my passenger window until I accelerated even more and eventually lost them. As I looked back in my mirror, I saw only one figure left, just simply peeking and staring at me behind a tree. This image is forever seared into my head. From this night on, I refuse to ever go back up there. I have never, ever spoken of this to anyone. Even when I was around my friends that experienced this, we never mentioned it to each other. It's been over a year now since this happened, and all I can say is that I believe these people were in some sort of cult. I heard other stories about similar events happening and even cattle completely disappearing. It's very barbaric. And you wouldn't think that such a beautiful national park that attracts so many people year round would have such dark and disturbing secrets. My advice to anyone that decides to travel to these mysterious and preserved parks of intrinsic beauty would be to always bring protection of some kind. Likewise, make sure you let others know about your plans. And never go alone. There are hundreds of missing persons reports across the national parks inside the United States, and I could have very well been one of them if I had stayed just a few minutes longer. Nature has a way to attract very different types of people. Some want to explore and push themselves to their limits. Meanwhile, some simply don't want to be seen and lurk in the darkness of night. A former Green Beret once told me the key to survival was always being aware of your surroundings and listening to your instincts. If a particular situation doesn't feel right, chances are it's not. Stay safe, everyone. I live in a small, small town. You blink and you miss it. The best way we can boast about it is a single stop sign and a gas station, which we only have because of the nearby highway. Any actual semblance of a town is 25 minutes away, so when things get scary out here, it's amplified. The occasional homeless person is no big Deal. They are often drifting through addicts running rampant and will steal everything they can from your house, but it's the normal out here. However, what happened a few years ago certainly wasn't normal. Originally, I was dead asleep in my bed. I only woke up because it was burning hot in my room, but it was summertime and there wasn't much I could do. I just remember tossing and turning until I got a creepy feeling that fell into the pit of my stomach. I glanced over to the bathroom door that was open with the light on. Everything was normal. I left the light on so I wouldn't trip and die if I had to pee in the middle of the night. Next, I glanced at the window directly across from my bed. I had no curtains, but I did have a crappy set of blinds. Part of the blinds were broken from wear and tear and the crappy AC output beneath it would make them move back and forth so you would get a glimpse outside every so often. The yard light was still going, but what made me stop was the outline at my window. The figure of someone was directly at my window, almost like it was waiting for the blinds to move to watch me. I didn't have an imagination as a child that had been trained out of me, but the sight was enough to pour every horror film into my head. At that moment, I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled my blankets over my head and slept in a cloth oven that night. By morning time, the figure was gone. I remember running to my mom's room on the verge of tears in the morning telling her what happened. She laughed at me like I was an idiot and told me it was probably just a stray cat that had climbed up there for one odd reason or another. I almost believed her since my window was pretty high off the ground. But something didn't sit right. Later that day when we were doing yard work, I glanced over at my window and saw one of our metal patio chairs had been pushed up to it. I pointed it out to my mom who then proceeded to chew me out. That's how the cat probably got up there. Moron. Stop. Leaving furniture everywhere but I hadn't moved was heavy enough that I struggled with it, so we moved it back. And so began a pattern. At night I would see the figure complain to my mom and we would find a chair moved back every single morning. This went on for a few weeks. My mother stopped caring about my concerns until one morning we saw where the outside screen of my window had been sliced open. I still remember her shaking her head and complaining about those dang stray cats that we had still yet to see. I could tell she was unnerved by that development. I couldn't handle it anymore and I opted to sleep in our living room that night. The only problem was our kitchen and living room connected, which meant there were always cells, several windows. The first night of my move went well. Despite my back hurting from the couch, I avoided my room like the plague. It wasn't until about four days later when we ran into an issue. I woke up and glanced at the clock above the fireplace. It read a little past 3am I couldn't realize why I had woken up until it happened again. There was a beam of light shining in from the kitchen window, almost like someone was shining a flashlight in. I saw it trace along the walls and land on the loveseats across from the couch I was on. I was mortified when I told my mom, she continued to laugh at me. I gave in and decided I would sleep in my dad's room even though it had a gigantic window. He slept in the recliner with a huge tv so I felt more safe having someone around. The yard light was directly outside the window anyways. It seemed foolproof. That was until I woke up out of habitual fear and watched through the window across from the bed. Everything seemed normal as time drug on and I felt like a moron. Maybe my mom was right. That was until I saw a lone figure come out of the woods by the backyard shed, walk directly under the light and head to the patio furniture like he had been here plenty of times before. I still remember the large build the man had and the confidence like he was the one who lived here and wasn't creeping around my yard in the dead of the night. I just remember listening to the TV until I fell asleep again, hoping to get another glimpse. My dad would have been angry if I had woken him up. He was grumpy on a good day and terrifying on a bad day. I didn't feel like risking it until I had solid proof because I was scared. The next morning my mom chewed me out again for the patio furniture, which was routine almost a month later. But this time something new happened. She demanded I stop playing in the so good, so good, so good.
- [20:51]
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Narrator
this episode is
- [21:17]
Advertiser
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- [22:16]
Narrator
Toolboxes in the garage A bunch of tools had been taken out and left on our doorstep. Screwdrivers, a hammer, flashlights, etc. It wasn't me. I begged with my mom and pleaded with her, just stay up with me one night. We couldn't close our garage because it was an open carport and I wasn't going to get beaten for touching tools because of someone else. It was driving me mad. Finally, she agreed. That night we would stay awake in the living room. I finally fell asleep before my mom did, but I remember her waking me up in a panic. She pointed to the window that overlooked into our garage. We could see the top of someone's head as they walked back and forth. There was a sound of someone placing metal tools down on the brick steps, as if they were trying to be quiet but couldn't fully muffle it. She whispered for me to go wake up my dad. My dad was angry, having been woken up in the middle of the night by his frantic daughter. He grabbed his weapon and headed out from the back door towards the front of the house where the garage was located. We heard my dad screaming and someone dropping tools. Then a shot rang out twice. The frantic footsteps pounding out of the garage felt like they were coming from my chest. My mom peeked out of the window and then opened the door and my dad stumbled in. He had missed both times because of his unstable aim, but told us that there was a man crouching at our front door looking at our door handle. None of us slept that night, and in the morning the law from the closest town arrived. They didn't do much besides ask if anything had been stolen for a description of the man and then told us that we should install cameras. That was it. They said the guy was probably just looking for something easy to steal for quick money. If that had been the case, why hadn't he stolen the tools, the generator, the welder, or broken into any of the vehicles just sitting in the garage? We finally set up hunting trail cameras around the house, but nothing has happened since coming home from college for holidays. I still have nightmares about the incident years later when I sleep in my own bed. I don't know what he was looking for or why he did the things he did. In 2014 I moved to England from Canada to gain work and travel experience and also to find myself. I ended up living in Essex with three other roommates. They were all women, all a bit older than I was. I was 24 at the time. Megan was 31, Cherry was 34 and Cassie was 38. Megan was from New York, Cherry from New Jersey and Cassie from Poland. All four of us shared this three story flat. The back of our home was the living room and kitchen. The back wall was complete glass that looked out into the garden. The garden was completely fenced in. The house had an interesting dynamic to say the least. Tons of stories from that time in my life. I adored all my roommates except for Cherry. After living with Cherry for seven months I was over her antics. One day I come home from work. I lock the door, make myself something to eat and go up to bed. I brought some work home with me so I'm in my nighty with all these papers around me and my headphones in and jamming out. I had headphones on because Cherry was out to dinner with work friends. That meant booze and then soon after that a tantrum was surely to come. I just didn't want to have to listen to her crazy scream crying. I am working away, completely focused until I feel something. I look up to see a man standing over me. I don't register it right away and passively say Cherry's room is on the second floor and continue to work. He doesn't leave again. Cherry's room is downstairs. You. He then interrupts me. I'm not here for Cherry. A cold chill iced my veins. My fight or flight kicked in. Just then I start surveying the situation. I look him up and down. He has a bottle of Prosecco in one hand and a knife in the other. He is about five' ten, wild muddy brown hair and black eyes. He has a light blue polo shirt on and one side of his collar is popped up and a distinct Manchester accent. Once I focused in, I realized his eyes were black because his pupils were completely dilated. Crap. I was in trouble. I needed an escape plan. Unfortunately, this man was standing in between me and my bedroom door. I needed to get downstairs but I needed for him to think it was his idea. I decided to play along. Just then he uses his knife to pop the cork. Prosecco started flowing onto my carpet. I said, oh no, let's clean that up. I prefer to drink out of a proper flute anyways. He nodded, replying, yeah, you're a proper classy bird. Let's go. I try to act as natural as possible. I try not to show that I am shaking all over and try to gain control over my breathing. We take the long journey down to the main floor of my flat. All three floors. He has the back of my nightie bunched up in one hand and I could feel the point of the knife graze my back with his other. I was trying to playfully speak with him as we walked down the stairs. I couldn't tell you what I was saying. I was most likely rambling. I couldn't hear anything over my heart beating in my ears. We get to the bottom of the stairs and there is a hallway to my left that leads to the front door. On my right, which is much closer to us, is the kitchen and living room. We make our way into the kitchen. I point to the cabinets that had the wine glasses. He said he knew where they were and started towards them. I now had the kitchen table in between us. It was time to run. I burst into a sprint down the hallway towards the door. My hands fumble over the locks, shaking and sweating. I swing open the door and see two men walking across the street. They must have been walking home from the train. There was a big train station in front of our house. I call out to them for help and suddenly I am flung onto the ground. Little pebbles piercing my skin sent sharp pains where they jabbed. The intruder pushed me out of the way to run and escape. One of the men chased after the intruder while the other said for me to go inside. While he surveyed my home and to call the police. I locked the doors and I called the police. While I am on the phone with dispatch, I manically run around the house to double check all the windows and doors. Suddenly I hear a loud bang on my door. I inform the dispatch of the banging and she informs me that police weren't there yet. I thought it might be one of the gentlemen who helped me. I go to look out the eyehole and it's him. The intruder. He came back. He's banging on my door screaming that I had his glasses and that he was not done with me. I absolutely freeze. Freaked out. The dispatcher attempted to calm me down, but I am losing my mind. She then said, they are pulling onto your street now. You should hear their sirens. I did. Thankfully, the intruder then blasts off. One officer jumps out of the passenger side while the car is still moving and chases after him. The second officer comes to my home, interviews me and the two gentlemen, collects some evidence and takes photos. After some time of him being there, Cherry comes home and freaks out. Once the situation was explained to her, she oh my gosh, that could have been me. Yeah, thanks Cherry. It's all about you. The next morning I am called in to identify a man they had in custody. I pointed him out. I go into a little room and the officer pulls out an evidence bag. He asked me if the items were mine. They were. They were my underwear and photos taken from my home. The officer informed me that the intruder had been stalking me for some time. Now he estimates about three months. He had made a nest outside our home on top of a hill that overlooked into our living room kitchen. He is a known offender and dealer. He then told me how lucky I was to get out practically unharmed. Others weren't so lucky. I really hope I never see that man again. However, I would love to run into those two gentlemen again Every day. I am thankful for them. It was a Thursday in August of 2002. I was 12 years old and had lived with my mom for the past six years since she and my dad got divorced. Soon after their divorce, my mom met a new man who moved in with us a few months later. Looking back, I can remember a few times where he had shown red flag behavior. Like one Evening maybe in 1999 when we, my sisters and I, were watching a TV show finale very late. He was drunk and came into the living room, smashed the TV with his hands. Back then the TV screens were made of glass. He cut his hand badly and yelled at us while bleeding. My mom forgave him after. He probably came up with a million excuses in the following days. In the beginning of 2002, my mom finally decided to have a break in their relationship and her and I moved into a different apartment a few miles away to get some distance. Me, still being the naive kid who thought she could have two dads, wasn't very excited about the idea. I already hated seeing my mom and dad split and now I had to let go of a man I had gotten used to over the course of all these years. I was still just a kid and ignored all the signs and I even remember resenting my mom for leaving him. As I said, my story starts on Thursday 8th August 2002. I was in school and not feeling very well. I also noticed some type of rash on my hips so my teacher sent me to the doctor and the diagnosis was shingles. I can still see the doctor right in front of me telling me that if the rash gets worse and goes all the way around my hip it could potentially be very dangerous. So I went home for the day and was allowed to stay home the next day too. Friday the 9th On Friday morning my mom woke me up about 20 minutes before she went to work so so she could check on me, have a little breakfast with me and bring me back to my bed to make sure that I would rest after she left. I remember lying in my bed and being relieved that the rash had gotten better overnight when I suddenly heard a noise from the hallway. My room was not connected to the hallway so I could only see the adjacent room and since my mom had left a couple minutes prior, I assumed it was her and called out to her. Seconds later my mom's ex boyfriend appeared in my doorframe asking me what I was doing home and why I wasn't in school. After I told him that I was sick and had shingles, he immediately said to me how much he missed us kids and my mom and how sorry he is for not being there and that he would love to talk to my mom and make things right. Since I was still unhappy about their breakup, I said stupid stuff like I missed him too and I wanted them to get back together. I cannot believe I seriously believed that. At some point, after a few minutes of small talk and him pretending to care about my well being, he made me promise not to tell my mom that he came by before he left. I obviously told her the minute she came home because I couldn't keep secrets from her and I also just wanted her to know. And again, me being a stupid 12 year old did not even question how he even entered the apartment without a key without someone opening the door for him. I never in a million years would have thought that this might be illegal or inappropriate behavior. I knew that man and he had lived with us for a number of years. The same day, just a few hours later, my dad drove me to my grandma's as I had planned weeks in advance to stay the weekend with her and I already your next chapter in
- [36:44]
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Narrator
Edu Sci felt much better My mom was supposed to pick me back up on Sunday, but on that morning my mom hadn't answered her phone for about 12 hours, which was unusual. A friend of the family picked me up, drove me home and still no news from my mom. Since there's a rule in my country that a person has to be missing for 24 hours before breaking the door to the apartment and she became missing on Saturday evening, the police were only allowed to open the apartment on Sunday. My sisters, my dad and I all went inside. I grabbed all of my school supplies and went to the bathroom. After exiting the bathroom, I found my mom's dental prosthesis on a counter in the hallway. Not realizing it could be potential evidence, I picked it up and brought it into the kitchen where my dad was sitting with the police officer. My dad later told me that as soon as he saw the prosthesis, he knew something had happened. My mom had her teeth fixed just a few months prior to prior and would not leave the house without that. After picking up our stuff from the apartment, my dad drove us back to his house and we waited. Monday morning and still no message from my mom. We didn't go to school that Monday, but planned on returning the next day. Tuesday morning I woke up on my own even though my dad had said he would wake us up and take us to school. I was about to go downstairs when I saw the Village park priest leaving our house. Police had found my mother the night before. On Monday evening, one of my mom's neighbors went upstairs to do laundry in the attic when he noticed one of the doors being locked. No resident from the apartment building had a key to this specific room, so they had to call the landlord to open the door. I tried not to think about what they discovered since it was the middle of summer and my mom had been dead for about 48 hours. My mom was murdered by her ex boyfriend after he returned to the apartment on Saturday afternoon to talk. The last person my mom spoke to was my aunt. Shortly before they hung up My mom said, there's someone knocking on the door. It's him again. I gotta go. I'll call you later. He gained access to the apartment the same way he did on Friday, with a credit card. He was arrested only a day later in a bar after telling the barman that he had done something really stupid. Yeah, I'll say. Eight months later. In April of the following year, my sister and I had to testify in the murder trial. But before we gave our testimony, our father argued with the court and made sure that we didn't have to face the killer. I remember sitting down in a large and very cold room, my father right by my side, holding my hand, lawyers to my right and to my left, as well as the judge in front of me. I remember being asked about the day he came into our apartment and answering all of the questions as truthfully as I could. They sentenced him to nine years in prison. Manslaughter, in effect, was the official cause. Seven of those nine years he spent behind bars. And as far as I know, he moved back close to our hometown, close to where it all happened. Over the years, people have told me that I was lucky. He could have killed me too. If my mom had still been at home that day, if she had left just a few minutes later, maybe she would have run into him downstairs. Or if he had gained entry to the apartment while we were still eating breakfast. Lots of ifs and could haves. I know I won't be able to change the past, but I am sure glad I can control my future. I'll tell you the story about the two times that I was almost kidnapped in the same spot. I was in high school and in the best shape of my life. I wasn't an athlete or anything, but I was growing into a woman's body. Five' eight and. And a long, youthful body, almost completely muscled. For that short period of my life, I was actually interested in maintaining myself. So I started a morning routine of going for a walk before breakfast. I lived in a neighborhood adjacent to this great park where I spent my life growing up. Soccer practice, dates, you name it. I believed that by hanging upside down on the monkey bars once a day before breakfast that I would stretch my spine just enough to keep growing taller and to alleviate any compression that might cause pain as I got older. On a hot summer morning before 10:00am I rolled out of bed, got dressed, and headed for the park. I don't think it's necessary to describe the area beyond the fact that it was completely surrounded by houses. It was a Pretty safe spot. The parking lot comes first between my street and the park itself. In the lot I could see a white van. The park district has vehicles that look just like it for things like picking up litter, sanitizing the playground, and bringing out the mowing equipment. I thought this van was here to trim trees or something, so I paid it little attention and headed for those monkey bars. Before I could make it to the playground, a voice stopped me. Hey. A man called from the driver's seat. A second voice came from the passenger seat. Come over here. I walked away, disinterested, but knowing that two men had rolled their windows down to watch me and talk to me made me feel self conscious. I didn't want my shirt to roll up while I hung upside down or stretch my hamstrings and give them a show of any kind that would give them the satisfaction. These were grown men and I was in high school. Needless to say, I was prey and I knew it. Pretty creeped out, I decided to go for my routine walk, determined not to let two idiots change my workout. A woman has the right to go about her business. Fear turned to anger as the white van with the windows rolled down crept alongside me. I was on the sidewalk, so a safe enough distance from the van on the road. I couldn't remember what they were hollering at me, but you can bet it was degrading, sexual, and not at all what grown men should say to a minor. My anger boiled up inside, and before I let them get away with making me feel so violated, I decided to express myself too. Too. I shot my middle finger high in the air and wagged it around. Now here is where the big oops happened. I know that this road darts into several no outlet neighborhoods, and turning into one, especially if you're not from around here like these guys were, means that you're going to u turn and come back around. That's exactly what they did. As soon as I saw that white van, except angrily and swoop into the adjoining street, I knew they were about to come back for me. My stomach dropped and I knew that I had only seconds to hide. No, I wouldn't reach the park in time. I knew that by the time I reached it, they would spot wherever I was going and attack me. I was close to a turn off into another neighborhood where I knew Mr. D lived. Mr. D was a police officer and whose son happened to be dating my sister at that time, so I had his number. I never ran so fast in my life. I dove behind a conifer tree in his front yard and made myself as small as possible in the shadows. Sure enough, that white van came from the opposite direction, inching down the road at only five miles an hour. The windows were rolled up this time, probably to make it easier to get away with stuffing a screaming girl in the back without anyone hearing. They stopped at the intersection where I disappeared. I took my phone out and texted Mr. D. Hi, it's me. There are two guys following me and I'm hiding in your tree. Help. I watched through the pine needles as the guys pulled over and got out, talking quietly and looking around. I hated them just watching as they talked about me. The front door swung open and Mr. D came out in full uniform. It turns out that I had texted him while he was leaving for work. He did not look for me, but stamped down to the end of his driveway and looked down the street. Seeing those men notice a cop staring at them and watching that white van speed away was a magnificent sight. The second time I was almost kidnapped on that curb. Happened the same summer, but this time it was raining lightly. It was dim and kind of muggy outside, so I remember that no one was outside except for me. I started jogging regularly in the evening and that day was no exception. I thought that the rain would keep me cool and enhance how much longer I could go. Indeed, I was helped somewhat by the rain, for I had been running for a while and wasn't that tired yet. I kept my eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of me, but I could see the park slide past me in my peripheral vision. I was on the opposite side of the street as the last incident. A pretty beat up olive green sedan came rolling quietly up the road with its headlights off. I thought that was weird, but knew that it would soon pass me. The sedan was in the oncoming lane, so we were face to face for a few meters and I noticed that it slowed down significantly before pulling over to the curb. I was running towards this parked car, which already rang my alarm bells. My suspicions flared into overdrive as the driver's side door opened and a tall bald man built like a refrigerator came out of it and crossed over to the passenger side. But I tell you, I amazed myself in that second before he even crossed in front of the first headlight. Before my foot could finish another rhythmic step of a long jog, my brain sent a flaming hot shiver of adrenaline through my body so fast I actually sprang up in the air. When my foot landed and pushed me off the pavement, I spun around in midair and darted in A new direction away from the man. The phrase fight or flight ceased to be a figure of speech as I actually witnessed it transform my body and put my conscious self into autopilot. If there's something I learned that day, it's that you can't choose fight or flight. Your body will do whichever it wants automatically. You might be programmed to be a fighter, or you might be someone like me, whose flight mode is so powerful that it thrusts you into space like a glitch in the Matrix. I didn't spring in the direction of the sidewalk. No, that was too dangerous. He would just follow me in his car. I actually saw houses whirring past me me as I made my way through backyards and patios. I wish I could say I never ran so fast in my life, but as you can recall, I had already run from my life once before. About this fast. I dared to look over my shoulder and I could see a dark blur of a large human maneuvering unnaturally through the backyards on my trail. I don't know how, but I outran him. I think it was my knowledge of the neighborhood, having lived there all my life, and knowing which house had a fence, which ones led to more cover, which would lead to dead ends, etc. I burst into my house and blubbered the whole story out to anyone who could listen. To be blunt, no one really cared. It's not like I had evidence of this happening, and because there was room for possibility that I misinterpreted his statement. Stopping and getting out to maybe ask for directions or check on a tire. That's exactly what my family chose to believe. For a long time I felt angry. Angry that these men came to my turf, my home, my neighborhood, and made me fearful. I couldn't think of a way to violate someone even if I wanted to. But men like these do it in their free time. I stopped working out after my second close encounter with abduction. I guess I look fine as a 23 year old shut in, but that's mainly thanks to my strict diet of vegan chocolate, antidepressants and atheism. And that's my story. This story may not be scary to some, but it remains as one of the most unnerving things I have ever experienced. In the summer of 2017, I was working at a satellite campus of my university as a residential assistant. Allow me to give a description of this campus before continuing the story. It was once an estate state and for a college campus, relatively small. To put things into perspective, I was one of only 22 students on the entire campus in the spring semester and one of 60 in the fall. I am not sure what the population was during the summer, but you get the idea. Not only was it small, but it was very old. The former estate was built in 1712, over 300 years before this story takes place. To save on budget when acquiring the property, my university did not demolish any of the older buildings. They just stood there empty and condemned. One of these buildings was a big mansion at the center of the campus, which served as the administration building for the university that owned the property prior to my own. The most prominent feature of the campus is the old windmill, a historic landmark and a playhouse for the daughter of the family who owned the estate. The story behind the windmill goes that the daughter used to run to the top floor, waving to the seafarers as they sailed on by. One night, while coming down from the top floor of the windmill, she fell down the steep stairs, broke her neck, and died. Rumor has it that her ghost wanders through the windmill, and while the structure remains locked throughout the year, some say they can sometimes see a lit candle coming from the top floor window. I wish I could say this is where my story takes place, but unfortunately it doesn't. With all of this being said, this campus is no stranger to the paranormal. As this campus is very small. There are only six residential buildings for the students to live in. These buildings are all named after historic nearby towns and one of which, Sagaponak, is said to be haunted. The dorms are arranged in two. Three in the front and three in the back. Each dorm is only two stories with two suites on each floor. When you walk in, there are doors to the left and the right leading to each suite, and a staircase leading to the second floor where the two other suites are. As an ra, one of my duties was to make rounds. This involved us going to each suite to make sure that the main doors were locked and that the residents didn't need anything. One night, it was time for us to perform our nightly rounds before closing the RA office for the the night. The other RA and I decided to do them together since it was a rather tedious activity. To expedite the process, I would check the first floor doors while the other RA would go upstairs to check the second floor doors. As we are in Sagapanak, I am standing around waiting for the other RA to come back downstairs when I notice a couple of pairs of shoes at the bottom of the staircase, a pair of brown work boots and black sneakers. Nothing too far out of the ordinary, right? We make our way to the next building and seconds into stepping into it, the other RA and I stop dead in our tracks. At the bottom of the staircase is a pair of brown work boots and black sneakers. I quickly stepped outside to check what building we were in and to my disbelief I found myself staring at the sign for Sagapanak. Dumbfounded and creeped out, we decided to end our rounds there and close up shop for the night. To this day, I am still not sure if what had happened to us was due to paranormal activity, a glitch in the Matrix, or an unusually silly mistake that neither I nor my partner noticed. How did we end up back in Sagapanak? If this does have a supernatural explanation, who or what wanted us back inside, I will never truly know. There have been three instances in my life where I have felt like I was going to be abducted. I am a woman and I am currently 23 years old. I am also on the petite side, standing at a whopping 5:3 and weighing around 115 pounds. Because of this I typically wear heels or platform boots so that I can appear taller than I actually am. This story happened this spring while at a second hand store. I was looking to find a good side table styled cabinet and my boyfriend came with me because I have already been nearly abducted twice in my life and I suffer from CPTSD in part because of that. So I am not really able to go out in public by myself unless I am with someone going to class or going to work. Lucky for me, my boyfriend is six three, lean but muscular, has a very deep, intimidating voice and has absolutely no issues with taking physical action if I needed that kind of defense. So it's nice basically having my own caring personal bodyguard. For context, the area I live in is bad for trafficking. I live in northern Wisconsin but close to Minneapolis. The I94 runs basically straight to Minneapolis from the Dells. I grew up near that area and I know full well that the Dells has bad trafficking issues too because of the high levels of tourism in the area. Plus Baraboo, the next town over from the Dells, still has running cargo trains that are rumored to contribute to trafficking, but that's not entirely relevant. The town I currently live in is split in half by the same interstate and there's a Walmart right by the exit, also infamous for trafficking. There have been many abductions of women in our town in various locations all over and it isn't a secret to anybody that it is an issue for the area. Now moving on, my boyfriend and I go to the next town over to look for a cabinet styled side table because the second hand shops in our town don't sell furniture. We get inside and look around for a little bit before my boyfriend says that he needs to go to the bathroom. I keep browsing nearby the bathrooms in a display area for desks, dressers, etc. And I find this really neat vintage vanity with hidden organizers in the top of the desk and I start looking at it and checking out its little features. While doing so I feel eyes on me so I look around to see if I am being watched by someone. Sure enough, in the row of desks behind me there is a middle aged man looking at me with no facial expressions. I am dressed in a skirt and knee socks and this is one of my go to looks. So glaring at creepy men eyeing me up isn't something new to me. But since I am alone at the moment and don't want to upset the guy, I give him the cliche midwestern half smile and move up the row away from him but towards the corner of the section. All of a sudden this guy practically runs to the row I'm in so I take a right and head up towards where he was standing when I spotted him. Initially he picks up pace and I am now half running trying to get away from him and after a small chase around furniture we end up in a situation where I am standing on one side of the row of desks and he is standing in front of me on the other side waiting to see which way I go. At a standstill at this moment I try looking to my left towards the other furniture and bathrooms to see if anyone is around to witness this and thank Gaia. My boyfriend is out of the bathroom already walking towards us with very squared up posture. He looks absolutely livid and his eyes are locked solidly onto this creep that was chasing me around furniture just a second ago. My boyfriend reaches my side and puts his arm around my shoulder protectively and he and this creep make eye contact. They honestly both looked equally pissed off. The guy doesn't say anything, just walks away, but every few minutes or so we see him looking at us a few aisles away wherever we are in the store and I am extremely extremely anxious at this point and just want to leave. But my boyfriend is trying his best to reassure me and calm me down in ways he best knows how with little avail. He eventually distracts me from the guy by finding a perfect side table for what I was looking for. Dark cherry wood glass door shelves. Absolutely beautiful and only $30, not to mention a student discount. We pick it up and head to checkout and the entire time I am paranoid and looking around to see if this guy is near us. He is currently being checked out at the register and we are being separated by two other customers. My anxiety spikes again but I try not to let it show. When he is done he walks through the first set of doors to exit but is still in the first entrance of the store just standing there. He looks at me and we make eye contact a few times while I am in line and then checking out. I make it a point to stand on the right side of my boyfriend, carrying my new find out and holding eye contact with the creep the whole time. We exit and get into the car. He doesn't say or do anything. He didn't follow us, he just stared at me and we get into the car safely. Although I am still paralyzed, paranoid and trying to get the side table in the car and secured as fast as possible, which is just making me fumble even more. But regardless, we left safe and made it home okay. I can't say for certain that this man was trying to abduct me, let alone if he was working with traffickers, but I highly doubt he was chasing and stalking me around the store with pure intentions. I just want to start off and say that before this incident I have always been a skeptic of the paranormal. Growing up my mom and dad would tell me stories that they encountered with the paranormal in their early years, so I always had an open mind to the possibility. But since I personally haven't encountered anything, I have always thought if I didn't see it then there might have been a logical explanation to their experience, so who knows if it's actually true? Moving on to the incident that made me a believer this all happened back in the early fall of 2011. Me, my son and his mother lived in a two bedroom second floor apartment on the east side of Cincinnati, Ohio. My son at the time was a little over two years old and was starting to say words and communicate in ways typical kids his age would say or do with body language and gestures. I say that because this ties in with the story later on. On this particular afternoon, his mother was over at her mother's house for the past two days and was staying one more night there to help her cope with the loss of a relative that recently passed. So me and my son, who I will call Kevin to protect his identity, had the place to ourselves for the night. Around 5pm that early evening I invited my longtime buddy who I'll call Tony, who I've known since fifth grade and also lived downstairs in the same apartment building over to my place to watch a baseball game. I also called my dad over to my place to partake in the makeshift guys night I set up during the game. Everything is going well, we ordered pizza and soda and we were having a good time during all of that. For reasons I can't remember, my dad started retelling me and my buddy his paranormal experiences that he told to us as kids. Even in our mid twenties we still felt like nine year old boys hearing those ghost stories for the first time. Regardless of my skepticism, my my dad is an amazing storyteller so hearing them again is never a drag. With that said, it's approaching 10pm at this point and the baseball game was over so my dad headed out to make it back home at a decent hour. Tony stuck around a few more minutes to smoke a cigarette with me on my balcony and then head back down to his place. So before bed I decide to clean up some of the pizza boxes and soda cans laying around the living room while my son was rolling his toy cars on the laminate floor in the kitchen to give you a quick layout of the apartment to get a better visual as this story continues to the creepy stuff. As soon as you walk in the door of my second floor apartment, the opening to the kitchen is right in front of you. To the right is the small closet and to the left is the living and dining room. If you were to be standing in between the living room and dining room straight ahead, all opposite the wall where the front door is, there's the opening to the hallway going left and right to each bedroom and straight ahead is the bathroom. So let's get to where things get spooky. Remember me saying my son was just starting to communicate with words and gestures. I am in the living room still cleaning and in the midst of my son joyfully playing with his toy cars, I hear him abruptly stop it Johnny. And then immediately began to cry. I froze. We didn't know a Johnny so how does he know this name? I think to myself. I then head into the kitchen to see my son on the floor holding his hand in tears. I get down to examine it but see no injuries, no red marks, no blood, etc. I quickly calm him down and ask him what happened. It was at this point he turns his body and points at the kitchen wall and says in mumbled crying two year old broken English Johnny in the hole in the wall. Every hair on my body, stood up, met with a shiver down my spine. To give you an idea of how terrifying it was seeing my young child point towards a wall and say a random man's name. Kids at that age don't fully grasp the concept of lying or playing a prank. If he is pointing at something and calling it by name, that means he had learned it and is doing his best to communicate with me about what he'd experienced. It was in that moment I knew I had to get out of there. So I picked him up and grabbed my keys, wallet, phone and phone charger and was heading to my dad's for the night. He lived 10 minutes up the road. But then it hit me. I would need the mattress from his car bed. See, behind that wall my son pointed at was his bedroom. I stared at the door handle for a moment, debating whether or not to just leave, but knew if I was going to, that I at least need his mattress. With a swift jog into the bedroom, I pulled that bed up with one hand and got out of there asap. I leave, calling my dad and waking him up, telling him that I was heading there for the night and that I would explain it all to him when I got there. He said he would leave his door open and to just come on in when I get there. Now this story isn't over yet. It gets even weirder. As I was driving to my dad's, I decided to call my buddy Tony to tell him what happened. Immediately upon him learning that I bolted out of the apartment in a manner that I did, he laughed. I can't blame him. I'd probably laugh at me too if I heard he ran out with a toddler in one hand and mattress in the other at 10:30 at night. But I wasn't him. My son saw an entity in our apartment and I was seriously considering never going back. However, in the middle of his laughter, he remembered something. He stops and says, hey, wasn't Johnny the name of Fran's husbands that used to live there? Lets rewind to a few months back. I was just moving into the apartment, unloading things from my pickup truck and I noticed a sweet little old lady walking her dogs out in the courtyard in front of the apartment complex. As I was walking by her, I introduced myself and told her I was moving into the building. She introduced herself as Francis, but went by Fran, by people who knew her. We exchanged pleasantries as I walked into the building. She followed because her two little pups finished their business and we all started walking upstairs to the second floor to our apartments. My apartment was on the corner of the building, so I went left when I got up there and Fran went straight to her apartment. But as I was walking to mine, her little dogs followed me. I said, wow, I must have made a great first impression. But Fran replied, no honey. I actually used to live in that apartment with my husband for 15 years. But when he died six months ago, I couldn't live there anymore and had to move. I sat there not knowing what to really say besides oh, I'm so sorry for your loss. Fran replies with a slight frown on her face, it's not your fault. When it's our time, it's our time. And then immediately follows up with and just to let you know, he didn't die in that apartment. It was at the hospital. I immediately reply with I wasn't thinking that, but thanks for at least letting me know. But in the back of my head I was wondering that and glad she informed me. Fast forward back to the night of the incident. My buddy Tony tells me I probably need to talk to Fran about what happened and to maybe see if she had a picture of him and to see if my son could point him out. Just to see if that's what really happened. I tell him I'm not sure how I feel about bringing this up to her, not trying to stir her emotions not even a year after her husband's death. We hang up and I arrived at my dad's. I go in and explain everything to him. He understands, and then during the night, convinces me that I need to talk to Fran as soon as I could to make sure that Kevin saw her husband in the apartment instead of something possibly sinister. So the next day I decided to do it. I decided to bring this up to Fran and not to just clear up if my son saw the ghost of her deceased husband in my apartment. But if it were him, maybe Fran could get some comfort in knowing that her husband was still there for her. I pull up and who do I see outside walking her dogs? You guessed it, Fran. I approach her saying if she has a few minutes, I would like to talk to her in private about something important. Confused, she politely invites me up to her place to talk. We go in and sit down on our couch. I start off with informing her that I wasn't there to tell her any BS considering how the last year has gone for her. She looks at me, still confused, so I tell her that I'll just get right to it. I tell her that I think my son saw her husband in my apartment and told her to just give me a few minutes to explain why I thought that I told her the story and how I thought if this wasn't her husband, that I would like to at least make sure that it was nothing sinister before I bring my kid back in there. She understood but seemed skeptical. I can't blame her. I would be too. Hearing all of that, I then asked Fran if she had a picture of Johnny, perhaps one with him with multiple other men in it, so that if my son points him out that it would prove even more that he did see him. She obliged and brought out an old photo album from her bedroom. She opens it and flicks a few pages over and then shows us a photo of three men. In the photo, it looks like three guys at a cookout enjoying each other's company around the grill. I then asked Kevin if he remembers Johnny that he saw last night. He looked at me and nodded his head yes. I look over at the photo and ask my son to point Johnny out to us. He walks right up to it and heavens to Betsy, he without hesitation points right at Johnny. Fran immediately broke into tears and I was right behind her. I reached over and hugged her as we both cried. She said in a sobbing voice that almost a whole year has passed and that she was feeling feeling alone. Her husband for 27 years died and she had really nobody and to know that he was still here looking after her took away some of that loneliness. After wiping away the tears, I told her that anytime she wanted to come in there and talk to him alone, to just let me know. She said that she would and I told her that I was going to hold her to that. She then told me what probably happened was when my son was playing in the kitchen that he might have reached into the drawer where we kept certain steak knives and that Johnny possibly closed the drawer on his fingers and was making sure he didn't get a hold of those knives. Whatever the reason, I know that nothing odd ever happened to us in that apartment before that night. I think when my dad was over telling those paranormal stories, perhaps Johnny felt that this was the best time for him to communicate. I was telling Fran that it's time for me to leave and asked if she wanted to come with me to maybe talk to him. She politely declined and said that she needed to let all of this soak in before she tried to do anything like that. I understood and told her to never hesitate to ask me to talk to him when she was ready, she said she would and I hugged her and Left me and my son headed back over to the apartment. I walk in realizing I left the door unlocked all night due to me running out of there the previous night. I set my keys down and begin to talk out loud saying hey Johnny, it's me, the guy that ran out of here last night because he's too scared of ghosts. I just want to let you know that Fran is three doors that way and that she would love to have you go over there and keep her company instead of me who scares too easy. Anyway, thanks for protecting my kid from the knives. Please don't try to communicate with me though. I obviously showed signs last night that I cannot handle it. Anyway, thanks. And again, Fran is three doors that way, buddy. After that, I never felt creeped out in that apartment. Nothing ever happened and my kid never saw Johnny there again. Fran never came to me to talk to Johnny. And when we would talk after that, the topic never came up. Seven months later we moved out. I walked up to Fran's door and hugged her goodbye. I handed her the keys and said if he wanted to go over there that it's all hers to do so until they rent the place to a new tenant. She took the keys and hugged me with a tear in her eyes. We said goodbye and that was it. I don't know if she ever went back in that apartment to talk to him or not. However, I do know my son. Seeing him that night and pointing him out in a picture to her must have made her feel not alone. That her husband was still here with her. And that to this day, always brings a smile to my face whenever I think about the incident that made me a believer and the paranormal. This story happened when I was a Kid, probably around 1213. This story is based on something strange that happened to my younger sister that lasted a few weeks. At the time she was about 9 or 10. Her bedroom was on the first floor of the house facing the driveway, while mine was the whole upstairs. Because we lived in a bungalow style house. One night in the middle of the night, my sister wakes me up from a dead sleep to tell me that someone is outside of her window whispering to her. This was in the summer and we did not have central air at the time, so she kept her window open. I immediately asked if she told my dad who at the time was a police officer. She told me that she was too scared to wake him up and if I would please come check it out. So reluctantly, I began to get out of bed and follow her downstairs to her room. As I went in Everything was normal. She pointed to the window and told me to go look and listen. As I looked outside, there was nothing but a quiet street and the humming of a street light near our yard. I told her she was probably dreaming and that she should go back to sleep. She was scared but said okay. I went back to bed and nothing else happened that night. A few nights had passed and I had totally forgotten about it when suddenly I was awoken around 3am by my sister. Again. She told me the person was back. I. I said who is back? She told me that it was the person from the other night whispering to her from outside the window. I asked her what they said to her and she said they kept saying piece me free. At this point I was confused. That's not even a correct sentence. What does that even mean? I asked her if they had said anything else and she said no, just piece me free over and over in a child's voice. At this point I was starting to get scared. I almost woke my dad up but figured I would just tell him about it in the morning. Fast forward to the next morning. I told my dad about what had happened and he told us that he was sure it was nothing and that my sister must have been dreaming. At first I agreed I didn't see or hear anything. She was just a kid and sometimes kids have very vivid dreams. We left it at that, even though I knew she believed it to be real. At this point, my sister was afraid to sleep in her room. My dad told her to just keep the window shut and she would be fine. Unfortunately, keeping the window closed was going to be tough. We were in the middle of a hot summer and with the window closed it was almost 80 degrees in her room. No one could sleep in that kind of heat so she had no choice but to keep the window open. She said that she heard the voice again after this a few times, but was scared to tell anyone, even me for some reason. Now what happens next will not only be the end of this bizarre saga, but will leave my sister and I scared to sleep at night for quite a few quite a while. A couple nights later I was once again woken up by my sister. This time she told me the voice was not only telling her to piece me free, but to save me. Please. I had enough so I went downstairs and looked out her window to see a shadow running towards the back of our house. A small shadow, A child sized shadow. I couldn't make out any features so I immediately ran to my parents room, woke up my dad and told him that my sister heard the kid again and that I saw someone running to the back of our house up the driveway. My dad instantly jumped out of bed and put on his robe, told us to stay inside. He grabbed his weapon he kept in a safe next to his bed. He then ran to the back of the house where a sliding glass door leads to the deck. Me being the wannabe tough guy, I followed him. As we went outside, my dad began to search the area as he would do as a police officer. I stayed just outside the doors on the deck while he went around the garage and shed. All of a sudden I hear my dad yell stop. Loudly Then put your hands up where I can see them and don't move. My heart dropped into my stomach in pure fear. It was real. Someone was actually there. My dad then yelled for me to go inside and call the non emergency number to the police department, which I knew by heart and to tell them that my dad had caught a prowler in our yard. I did as I was told and the dispatcher said they were sending someone right away. I informed my dad that someone was coming. As I did, he began to march the person from behind our shed up front our deck. It was dark and it looked just like the shadow of the person I had seen. I thought to myself, it must be a kid. Why would a kid be doing this? Why wouldn't they be at home in bed during the times this all happened? Well, it wasn't a kid. It was a short old lady, probably in her 60s or 70s. My dad told me to go out front and wait for the police, then send them to the backyard. I stayed inside with my sister and my mom while everything was sorted out outside with the police. After a while they took the lady away and my dad came back inside and explained the entire situation. As it turns out, this older woman was the mother of a criminal my dad arrested some months prior. He had been charged with various child abuse charges. I won't get into the details, but it wasn't good. His mom believed him when he said he didn't do anything wrong. She told the police that her son was so mad that my dad was the one who arrested him and told her to go to our house and quote unquote, haunt us. Haunt us really? Well, she did a good job. Why? She said piece me free then please save me. We'll never know. But that is just downright creepy. We never heard from her again. Back before the quarantine, I was on a mini road trip with a couple of friends and their girlfriends. I was single myself, so we filled up the five seater which was enough of an excuse as any to not pick up any hitchhikers or people in need of a ride. We had a horror encounter before with that exact thing and didn't feel like explaining that to someone whenever seeing them. Hopefully any hitchhiker would see the full car and get the point. Not that we won't call for help at the they ask us of course. So we were driving down a desert road. My group consisted of myself, a male in his 20s, Tony and Jane, which are fake names by the way, Bruce, Lila and Lila's dog, a Lhasa Apso female named Doris. Lla and Tony were the ones with the driver's licenses and Lila was driving at the time around 8pm it wasn't dark out yet, but you could make out the beginning of this sunset as she said ooh look. And began slowing down. Bruce and Lila had only been together for a month or two at that point and he had yet to share the story about the hitchhiker last time with her, so she didn't know better than to pull over for a rough looking dirty man with a cardboard sign saying the name of a town an hour away. We began to protest too late as she had almost stopped entirely and rolled the window down an inch and kept the motor going. The hitchhiker walked up to the car and glared with the most intense crazy eyes. Nothing like the charming psycho of last time. He stared and made a huge grin asking for a ride. Lyla told him the car is full but she can call him a ride if he needs one. She even put a hand down to her side about to hand him some money for fare. He didn't even listen to what she had to say as he walked a step to his side and stared into the car right next to my window. I am a walking stereotype, the most dude bro looking person you could find, but it didn't seem to do more than make him look me up and down a bit before tilting his head and staring at Tony and Jane. I can ride in the trunk, it's no problem, he said and without being given permission he walked around the car and grabbed the handle of the trunk. Doris woke up from all of this and the black toned window of the back of the car had him unable to see her. As he tugged the locked trunk, Doris set off this extremely loud high pitch cutting bark. It's hard to describe how loud Lhasa apsos can bark compared to dogs even three times their size. The sound splits and cuts ears your painfully and as lla is getting ready to drive off from this weirdo, he looked stunned as we drove away, waving his arms up in the air. Maybe he was on something, maybe just sick in the head or maybe a combination of both. But we drove off and everyone began to take it more easy. But just five minutes later we see a 24, 7 gas station and pull over for gas and snacks. Lila traded places with Tony for driving and took her dog out of the trunk to walk it a little for a potty break. I think. Jane went inside the gas station with Tony while I stood outside chatting up with Bruce. When Jane finished inside she went around the corner for the bathroom as I went inside for some snacks for myself. I didn't take long and when I got out, by pure coincidence, I looked down the road and I see the hitchhiker again. He is not holding the sign and he is walking in a fast pace. He's a blurry red dot down the road but there's no mistaking the brown jacket and bright red pants. I quickly tell Tony and Bruce as Tony goes to fetch Jane to look around for Lila who have walked the dog out to a field. I don't know why we all went into such a panic. Bruce began shouting for Lila who said Doris hasn't gone number two yet and got almost loud with her telling her we had to leave now. She looked at him a bit puzzled, began walking and that's when Doris stops dead in her tracks to go to the bathroom. Tony came around the corner with Jane and began loading in the snacks as Bruce and myself stood there waiting for Lila watching the hitchhiker come closer. He's no more than 400 yards away and he must have recognized us as he began shouting wait there, hold on to us. Doris finally finished and Lila speed walked over. She put Doris in the travel crate in the back and got in the car. The hitchhiker was just over 40 yards away from Speed walking over to us when Tony drove out of the gas station. That is enough for one day. Jane said as she laid her head to Tony's side. He chuckled and nodded in agreement asking if we would be okay with going to a motel a city earlier than planned. The gas station employee had recommended a nice place without cockroaches and shady staff. Two towns over, one town further than the goal of the hitchhiker. We all agree that that's a nice idea and two hours later, around 10:20pm we drive into the nicest looking motel parking lot I've ever seen. It had a concrete fountain surrounded by steel pillars to protect it from cars set up in the center. The entire motel was U shaped with mint panels outside and dark brown roofs. You park along the inside or outside and the reception would be at the bottom, short end in the middle. An overweight bald man sat there smiling sweetly at me. I couldn't tell if he was just happy to have a customer or maybe a bit into me, but I played into it, leaning in, giving him a smile as I booked us a double room. Basically, he had a wall taken down with the pillar supporting it and making two small rooms a bigger one. He gave me 20% off as well, and that's when I asked if he was okay with a dog staying with us. I waved Lila over and picked up Doris, saying she would be scared sleeping alone in the car. He awed at her and pointed down between his legs. We were all a bit taken until a similar dog to Doris jumped up in his lap. He laughed and said that it would be fine as long as we do a pet deposit of $50 and that we would get it back when he checks the room when we leave. We all got situated and made our beds, checked for creep cams and turned on the TV for a rerun of Chuck. We all sat on the two beds on the same side, snacking away, talking of work and stuff, as Jane recommended I give one of her friends a call. She had said that I was cute and showed me very pretty pictures of her. We had all pretty much forgotten about the hitchhiker at this point and went to bed around 2am At 3am I wake up to Doris wet nose poking me in the ear. I had the bed by the window and she made a smile as I woke up. All the others were dead asleep and I thought maybe she needed a walk. My own dogs were at a sitter and I was a good friend of Doris and I really liked Doris. So I put her collar on and walked up and down the grass along the windows before going back inside. But the entire time I felt like something was staring at us. Doris then makes an odd stance and I see that the motel clerk's dog is walking around freely and looking very happily at Doris. However, I didn't have Lila's permit or information about letting her say hello to other dogs. So I just went back inside. Once inside I heard scratching at the door. First very soft, then more intense. I walked up to the door and shushed the dog outside and back to bed. Then I heard it scratch and bark. Not the loudest barks but loud enough. I pull the curtains aside and I don't see a dog. There's nothing there so I go back to bed but as soon as I do it starts up again. I look over and the other four are fast asleep as I sit up in bed and put a shirt on, about to go open the door when Doris stops me indirectly by standing in front of me and blocking the door. She stood in the guarding stance and looked up at me. For those who don't know, lasses are a smaller breed with ever growing long hair if not cut short like Doris's. They are very strong and muscular for their size. However, I looked at her and it was like if she could speak with words, looking at me as if she said don't open the door. She wasn't barking either, which was kind of odd. The scratching picked back up and I went to the window faster this time, swiping the curtain off and just as I do, something moved out of sight. Now I know it's not a dog, it's a person. A person wearing bright red pants. I immediately remember the hitchhiker and wonder how he knew where we were going. I guess the gas station employee must have told him or something about the suggestions he gave us. I considered waking up the others or something but settled on grabbing the motel phone. Even though the double room had all beds on one side and the couch and dining setup on the other side, both phones were still in so I sat myself down on the couch and called the reception. Nobody picked up, but then again it's about 4am and I wasn't expecting it either. So I google the motel and look for the owner's name to see if I can call him directly. I found his number and he picked up confused and a bit annoyed until I told him who called. I explained the situation from start to finish and he told me that a homeless person had tried to get a free room for the night. He had obviously declined him and told him to leave, but the guy kept shifting his eyes around the cars like a paranoid sicko until he finally left the area. He had then double checked all rooms were locked and went to the back office. He told me he was going to get his big dog and scare him off with a weapon if he had to and just asked me to keep an eye out. I walked up to the window where the door for the further room had been before and opened the curtain a bit to see him stand there waiting outside the door. He knew of. He didn't realize the double room feature and thought that he was sneaking like a pro on us. Lila and Bruce woke up at that point and asked what was going on but as I hushed them I told them not to move and stay in bed and they kind of laid down. Bruce began texting me asking what's up as I informed him. A little while later I'm on the phone with the owner again telling him I can see the guy. He hung up and said that he was going to get his dog. As I waited he started barking again but this time I could see his silhouette moving with the sounds as he scruffed out barks before I heard the pleasing sound of the owner screaming leave before I put you down. The owner was walking from the reception area looking angry with a smaller dog on his side walking freely and what looked like a 160 pound American Akita or something. The dog was massive and looked angry and if the overweight owner wasn't anchoring it to slow down I think it would have bolted off and ripped the hitchhiker apart or something. The hitchhiker ran off scared, scared and the owner returned to the reception area, dropping the big dog off before coming down to talk to me, Bruce and Lila Doris greeted the other small dog for a moment and we discussed again how we met him and declined him a ride. The owner let out a well at least no one's hurt and smiled a smile that went away slowly as he looked down at the door, squinting a bit as he let out a what the heck and pointed. It turned out the scratching at the door had been scratching with a knife or some other sharp object. The door's lower hinge was stabbed and scratched. Some wood chips lay on the ground and it makes me wonder what could have happened if I had opened the door while he was pretending to be a dog. We let Jane and Tony sleep while going out to the reception area and having some cold sodas and beers with the owner to keep watch in case the hitchhiker came back. He told us some stories about weird motel guests, deaths and strange things happening in the motel. The rest of the early morning was lovely and we caught up Tony and Jane around 9am they didn't understand how they slept through the whole deal and Jane got seriously creeped out compared to Tony who brushed it off as not as bad as last time. We got in the car around 10am and I said goodbye to the owner after adding him on Facebook and being made clear that we were very welcome back anytime. We all gave him a five star review as we got in the car and drove around the corner to continue on. I looked into the tumbleweeds on the roadside and saw the red pants, brown jacket, and a pair of shoes dumped on the ground before them. I didn't see or hear him, but I could not shake the feeling that he was watching somewhere. We got on the road and drove over five hours before stopping again, and by then we all stopped worrying. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and on the way back we saw that just one shoe and parts of the jacket remained. We stayed at the motel again and nothing happened, but the motel owner informed us it's not entirely unheard of for people to be going out in the desert and not coming back. Whether he went out and died, stole new clothes, or just hitchhiked somewhere naked, I still to this day am just so very happy that I did not open the door when I thought that it was a dog. It's.