Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 391 - MEAT HOOK

Summary

Podcast Summary: Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 391 - MEAT HOOK

Podcast: Scary Stories and Rain
Host/Narrator: Being Scared
Release Date: May 27, 2026
Atmosphere: Calm narration, true unsettling stories, ambient rain for mood

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Episode Overview

This episode delves into a collection of deeply unsettling and true scary stories recounted in the trademark soothing yet suspenseful tone of the "Being Scared" host. The stories range from close encounters with intruders, brushes with organized crime, unsettling mysteries in nature, psychological fear, tragic accidents, and brushes with strangers harboring unknown agendas. Each personal account is delivered with honest emotion, sometimes with the original posters' hindsight and lessons learned.

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Key Stories & Discussion Points

1. The Intruder and the Photograph

Timestamps: 02:00 – 10:20
A childhood recollection from a Discord server where the seemingly mundane turns terrifying: a young boy, left alone in a ground-floor apartment, narrowly escapes a break-in. The sinister truth emerges years later when his mother reveals the attempted intruder had previously broken in and photographed the boy sleeping.

• Emotional Impact:
  • "What was in that plastic bag was a photograph. A photograph of a young boy curled up in bed, sleeping soundly. And that boy was our storyteller." (07:55, Storyteller)
• Family Trauma: Security overhauls post-incident, and the truth withheld from the boy until late adolescence.
• Chilling Reflection:
  • “It’s weird how we seek out scary stories… but end up being genuinely traumatized not by the spoopy skeleton stories, but by things that we know could have easily happened for real.” (10:18, Storyteller)

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2. Post-Soviet Mafia Crime: The "Meat Hook" Discovery

Timestamps: 10:37 – 16:16
Recounted by a police detective in training from a post-Soviet country, this story unfolds with the grim reality of organized crime in the 1990s. Three boys, out for fishing, hook a decapitated human head—a local mafia victim. The tale is as much about childhood trauma as it is a society plagued by violence.

• Gruesome Discovery:
  • “There was no fish on the line. Instead, the fishing hook got stuck in flesh. Human flesh. The boy who was holding the fishing rod threw up when he saw that he had caught a human head. Yes, a rotting human head.” (13:52, Storyteller)
• Police Perspective: The narrator, now a detective, reflects on the enduring impact such cases have on families and investigators.
• Empathy and Motivation:
  • “Some cases… sometimes gets me crying also. That just gives me the motivation and strength to find and fight these horrible people.” (16:13, Storyteller)

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3. Lost & Gone Forever: The Wolf Whistle in the Woods

Timestamps: 17:00 – 26:14
Told from the viewpoint of a search-and-rescue deputy, a search for a missing grandfather and grandson in the Northwest woods turns eerie. Bizarre, untraceable scent trails and chilling "wolf whistles" in the night hint at a deeper, possibly criminal mystery. Silhouetted strangers are glimpsed but never caught, and the missing are never found.

• Atmospheric Details:
  • “It was as if someone plucked these guys up from their campsite and placed them in random sections of the forest repeatedly.” (19:25, Storyteller)
• Memorable Moment:
  • “Somewhere to my left, past the tree line, came a loud wolf whistle. ” (22:47, Storyteller)
  • “Those two silhouettes obviously were not the two people that we were searching for.” (25:17, Storyteller)
• Lingering Uncertainty: The case remains unsolved, haunting the narrator to this day.

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4. The Screaming Figure on the School Roof

Timestamps: 28:02 – 36:13
A pair of sisters, enjoying a late-night swing set snack run, experience escalating fear as rocks are thrown at them, culminating in the sight of a hooded figure on the school roof. The terror crests with a nightmarish scream from the figure.

• Chilling Description:
  • “...he let out the most bone chilling, screechy yet bellowy scream... as if the sound had found its way into my body to rattle my organs.” (32:12–34:10, Storyteller)
• Sisterly Bond and Reflection on Harmlessness:
  • "Remember that even though in the moment you might think that your pranks and jokes are totally harmless, you never know how they might affect someone when that someone feels that they are genuinely… in serious danger." (36:13, Storyteller)

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5. The Deadly Joyride

Timestamps: 37:55 – 46:17
In this personal cautionary tale, youthful invincibility and peer pressure lead to a tragic drunk-driving accident. The narrator witnesses the graphic consequences—a friend’s death, severe injuries, and lifelong guilt.

• Searing Self-Reflection:
  • “There was no villain in this story. No creepy home intruder, no spooky ghost. Just dumb young adults who made a life ending decision because of liquor and peer pressure.” (45:15, Storyteller)
• Disturbing Detail:
  • “I wasn’t just wiping off blood from his face, I was wiping off entire chunks of his face.” (44:36, Storyteller)
• Lesson Emphasized: Sometimes, true horror is self-made.

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6. Real Ghosts: The Basement Intruder

Timestamps: 46:17 – 51:03
A boy is haunted by the belief he’s seen a ghost in his family’s basement—until it’s revealed months later that a real, human intruder had been living beneath their house.

• Key Realization:
  • “Recognizing I had been alone in that house with him on at least one occasion was one of the worst, most terrifying realizations I’ve ever had in my life. Needless to say, I don’t believe in ghosts anymore.” (47:45, Storyteller)

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7. A Game Gone Wrong: The Man in the Woods

Timestamps: 51:03 – 54:06
A childish "prank" game, shouting at passing pedestrians, backfires when two boys target a disturbed, possibly homeless man—who then chases them into the woods.

• Panic and Fear:
  • “...there was the man crouching down looking right at us. I didn’t have time to react as the man stood up and started sprinting towards us.” (53:19, Storyteller)
• Aftermath: Long-term regret mixed with relief.

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8. The Boat Shed Stranger

Timestamps: 54:06 – 62:59
A visit to a grandmother’s rural home ends with the narrator’s brother standing off against a mysterious man in the dark, who is trespassing on their property at 3am. Though the man eventually flees after a warning shot, the possibility of darker intentions lingers.

• Tense Confrontation:
  • “My brother fired a single shot just above the man’s head, to which he finally took that as his cue that my brother meant business.” (61:39, Storyteller)
• Lasting Dread:
  • “How many times has this happened… was he watching us from the shadows all night?” (62:33, Storyteller)

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Notable Quotes and Moments

• On the True Nature of Horror:

  • “We seek out scary stories… but end up being genuinely traumatized … by things that we know could have easily happened for real.” (10:18, Storyteller)

• Mature Reflection on Crime and Grief:

  • “Some cases and witness statements who are crying their souls out … sometimes gets me crying also. That just gives me the motivation and strength to find and fight these horrible people.” (16:13, Storyteller)

• Survivor’s Guilt:

  • “No villain in this story. No creepy home intruder, no spooky ghost. Just dumb young adults who made a life ending decision…” (45:15, Storyteller)

• True Encounters Are Often the Most Frightening:

  • “I don't believe in ghosts anymore.” (47:45, Storyteller)

• Advice to Listeners:

  • “Remember that even though in the moment you might think that your pranks and jokes are totally harmless, you never know how they might affect someone…” (36:13, Storyteller)

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Episode Structure & Flow

• Stories transition seamlessly from one to the next, each recounted with distinctive voices and a quiet, suspenseful ambiance bolstered by gentle rain.
• The tone is confessional, frank, and empathetic, centering not just on fright but on the human cost and personal aftermath.
• The episode forgoes supernatural tales in favor of real-world terrors: break-ins, organized crime, disappearances, tragedy born of bad decisions, and malevolent strangers.
• Listeners are often invited to reflect on the broader implications—not just the fear, but the ways real events shape lives and lessons learned in trauma’s shadow.

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Useful Timestamps

| Segment | Time | |--------------------------------------------------|------------| | Intruder/photo story (Discord retelling) | 02:00-10:20| | “Meat Hook” mafia case (Detective retelling) | 10:37-16:16| | Wolf whistles/missing campers (Deputy’s account) | 17:00-26:14| | Night walks, rocks, screaming figure (Sisters) | 28:02-36:13| | Drunk joyride tragedy | 37:55-46:17| | Basement “ghost” reveals real intruder | 46:17-51:03| | “Mop” prank and chase | 51:03-54:06| | Boat shed trespasser | 54:06-62:59|

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Overall Tone & Takeaway

The episode is a sobering meditation on real-world fears, the scars left behind by the inexplicable or the careless, and the randomness with which horror can find ordinary people. The stories highlight the lesson, "reality is often far scarier than any fiction."

For sleepy nights or stormy days, listeners will find themselves shuddering not just at ghouls, but at the everyday darkness that can creep into real lives.

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For more episodes or alternative sound moods, check the links in the show notes!

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Transcript

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[Storyteller]

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 2.99amonth. 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.

A few years ago I was part of a True Scary Stories server on Discord.

It was a place where people would

share their own personal stories of scary or spooky things that had happened to them in their lives. And for a while it was honestly a lot of fun. Sure, a lot of the stories sounded made up, but and generally involved stuff like I saw a shadowy figure at the end of my bed and other stuff that sounded like they were lifted straight out of a bad horror movie. But every so often someone would share a story that didn't have a hint of the supernatural in it, something that was actually believable. And occasionally these stories were genuinely terrifying. I read a lot of seriously spine chilling stuff stuff on that server, but a lot of it I have forgotten over the years, probably because although they were creepy, they just weren't disturbing enough to actually stick with me. But there was one story in particular that I have never forgotten because it genuinely made me shudder when I read it. The poster began their story by assuring us that their story wasn't just some fabrication and that although they were pretty young when it happened, just thinking or writing about it as an adult was a pretty stressful experience for them. They went on to explain that their early years were marred by tragedy, how their dad had died when they were really young from a drug overdose. So they were raised by a single mom living in a small apartment just down the street from their grandma's house. Mom did some dating though, obviously trying to do the right thing and find them a stepdad to give them some kind of father figure in their life. The incident in question happened while she was out on a date. Usually speaking, their grandma would babysit for them anytime mom needed to do anything that meant she couldn't bring them along. But on the night of her date, the grandma was working. So although it wasn't ideal, nine or ten year old storyteller was left unsupervised in their mom's ground floor apartment. Sounds kind of irresponsible at first, but the storyteller was quick to reassure the members of the server. That was back when Yu Gi oh was popular. As long as they had their cards and a box set of the cartoons to keep them occupied, being left alone for like an hour or two certainly wasn't an issue for them. It's not like they were going to wander out of the apartment or get up to any mischief while their precious Yu Gi oh was keeping them busy. But at some point during the evening they are sitting there playing with their cards and watching TV when they heard a tapping on the window. Remember, they lived in the ground floor apartment, so pretty much anyone could have just walked up and started tapping on the glass. No climbing or levitating or any of that stuff was involved, so there was nothing inherently worrying or creepy about someone knocking on the glass. The storyteller then gets up, walking towards the window before drawing back the curtains, only to reveal the face of a complete stranger. Not their grandfather, not an uncle, but a complete and utter stranger. Surprised and confused, they back up from the window, letting the curtains slide back into place before this horrendous crash sounds. Broken glass tumbles onto the carpet at the foot of the curtains before another smash sends more glittering shards onto the floor in front of them. At that point, they said they just tossed their Yu Gi oh cards onto the floor and bailed, rushing out of the back door of the apartment and over to a neighbor's house, pounding on the door in a state of abject terror as they looked over their shoulder every so often to ensure the mysterious predator wasn't hot in pursuit. But thankfully, the neighbor answers the door, lets our storyteller in before taking the time to calm them down to get the full story out of them. Naturally, they called the cops immediately, who rushed over since they were given the description of a home invasion in progress. The neighbor then gets in touch with storyteller's mom to let her know the awful news, who immediately rushes home to comfort their terrified son. Son. Then after that, both the neighbor and the storyteller's mom accompany them back to the apartment, where the cops are still searching the property and surrounding area for any sign of the attempted intruder. Apparently, one of the cops approaches the mom at this point and shows her something in a clear plastic evidence bag. The mom stares at it, turns pale, then kneels down and hugs our storyteller tight, fighting to hold back tears as the neighbor says, oh my gosh. They both ended up staying at the grandma's place for like a week after while the window was repaired. And if that seems like a bizarre amount of time to fix a window and that something else might be behind them staying away from the apartment for a while, you would be right in thinking that our storyteller had their suspicions

for a little while.

But they were too young to really understand the implications of what had happened. The kind of danger they had been in wasn't clear until many years later, when their mom explained to them just what had happened that evening. You see, it wasn't just the window that was being replaced. The entire apartment was being fitted with new, incredibly sturdy locks, CCTV cameras, just about everything short of a panic room, all being paid for by grandma and grandpa. The whole family was absolutely terrified. And it was all down to the piece of evidence that the cop showed the mom that night. The little thing in the clear plastic evidence bag that made her turn ashen and squeeze our storyteller in a big, big trembling bear hug. What was in that plastic bag was a photograph. A photograph of a young boy curled up in bed, sleeping soundly. And that boy was our storyteller. The mom told a much older storyteller that the photo couldn't have been taken long before the attempted break in. Something about the sheets on the Bed being fairly new or something I can't quite remember, or maybe it was a new haircut that the storyteller had gotten, but either way, it was some detail in there that made it clear that the attempted intruder had broken into the apartment somehow, maybe only a week prior, and had taken a photograph of our storyteller while they were sleeping. I can only imagine they had done so to say, several other children too, making a little catalog of potential victims, pursuing them for hours on end before finally deciding the one they liked the most. I think that's what makes my blood run cold back when I read their story, the idea that the intruder had taken this perverse liking to them, one that was strong enough for them to be unable to resist their urges or

whatever kind of sickness twisted desires had

them smashing that window. That evening the family only felt safe again when they heard news that a creeper whose MO was eerily similar to their own experiences was caught by police and jailed after being extradited to another state. But they kept the whole thing a secret from our storyteller until he was in his late teenage years. There was no more details after that. There wasn't any grand conclusion, just that it was something that had haunted him for years.

I never read anything as horrifying as

that on that Discord server. It made everything else seem tame in comparison, and I stopped reading shortly afterward. It's weird how we seek out scary stories sometimes just to give ourselves a little thrill, but end up being genuinely traumatized not by the spoopy skeleton stories,

but by things that we know could

have easily happened for real. Just to give you a bit of

background, I live in a country that

is to close classed as post Soviet

as we used to be part of a Soviet Union until it collapsed. Anyway, the story is not about that. Currently I'm in my final year of police training, me specifically training to become a detective in murder organized crime cases. Throughout my training I have seen a lot of gruesome things and cases, read a lot of past cases that are now solved. So to say that I am not breaking any law by talking about it. Back in the 1990s, right after the Soviet Union had collapsed, small countries that were now independent were trying to set up their governments and law enforcement systems. People were mostly poor and organized crime started to arise. And by that I mean a lot of mafia groups were forming in various bigger cities as there was no effective law enforcement to stop them from doing crimes and the units that were formed were mostly corrupted and afraid of the mafia. Lucky me. I was born in one of these cities that had one of the strongest and influential mafia gang in the whole country. The time from 1990s until the early 2000s was like one big crime scene in whole of the country. Daily shootings, corpses in rivers, robberies, carjackings, you name it, it was there. During my early training years. In 2018, as part of my studies, I went to police archive and came across a few cases from the past that will stay in my mind for some time. I will tell about one of them in my story. So the case story goes like in 1992, early autumn, when it was still warm, a young man went suddenly missing. Police knew that he had some ties with the local mob, but for a week they weren't able to find him or his body. Right then, when the search was going on, three teenage boys aged 12, 14 went from fishing to a local river.

To give you a better idea of

the location, there was a main road and by that main road there was a school. And there was a trail leading through the school's playground right to the riverbank. It was a three minute walk from the playground to the riverbank. So the boys took their fishing gear and as they were walking through the playground, they saw and waved hello to the school's principal as he was outside talking to a groundskeeper. Boys being known for their mischievous behavior in school and just wanted to taunt the principal by waving at him. He ignored them and the boys went to the river. It was a warm evening, the sun was still up. It was around 5pm the boys got ready to fish and cast their rods. 10 minutes passed, nothing. 15 minutes passed, nothing. One of the boys got impatient and

decided to recast his rod. Just as he started to reel back,

something heavy was on the line. He got excited and started to shout, I got something. I got one. I got a bite. The other boys ran to him and excitedly waited for the huge fish to finally show. But instead, as he was reeling, their faces went pale. There was no fish on the line. Instead, the fishing hook got stuck in flesh. Human flesh. The boy who was holding the fishing rod threw up when he saw that he had caught a human head. Yes, a rotting human head. The boys panicked. They didn't know what to do as there were no cell phones and the closest building with an adult was the school. The boys dropped their fishing gear and ran back to the school hoping to find the principal who they saw earlier. He was nowhere to be seen outside, so the boys ran into the school,

straight into his office.

They were panicking and Screaming for the principal to come because there was something horrible, horrible by the river. The principal looked at them confused and refused to come as he thought this was one of their pranks. But when he noticed how greenish, pale and panicked they were, he said in a serious voice, this better not be one of your silly pranks. Now come on, show me what's going on. They took him right where they dropped their fishing gear and showed him the head which still had the fish hook in it. The principal stood in silence, but there was pure terror on his face. Quickly he took the boys back to his office and rang the police. The police came and of course the forensic team was called. Statements were taken from the boys and the principal. It was the missing man's head. The 22 year old man was killed by the mob because he owed them money, then cut into several pieces and thrown into the river. Only his head and torso were recovered. His family was gutted.

They couldn't even bury his body properly.

Me now reading their statements after more than 20 years got me to tears. How terrible it must have been for the boys to discover the head and for the man's family to hear that their son had been discovered in pieces. I am not a faint hearted person or anything like that as I chose my career to be a murder detective. But some cases and witness statements who are crying their souls out asking to find the people who did that to their loved ones sometimes gets me crying also. That just gives me the motivation and strength to find and fight these horrible people. Stay safe everyone.

Quick preface.

My uncle was a sheriff's deputy and

search and rescue officer in the Northwest

United States States back in the 1990s.

This experience is told from my uncle's

view with a few explanations for myself. He asked that I keep the location hidden for anonymity purposes. So it was the summer of 1992. It was a couple years into my job with the county Sheriff's office. Summers were busy. A ton of people would go camping up here, so naturally people would occasionally get lost.

Lost.

S and R was something I was volun told to do as a rookie, but I learned to love it. Helping people, especially in life or death situations, was the reason I became a deputy. So S and R gave me that rush as my normal law enforcement duties were almost always mundane in my small town. We received a call from a lady in Arizona one Tuesday morning. She claimed her husband and young grandson had driven up here on a Friday for a weekend camping trip. They hadn't returned Monday as scheduled and

she was worried that they were lost.

So we geared up the S and R team consisting of myself, four other deputies, 15 civilian volunteers, and two Bloodhound s and R dogs. We made it to their camping site around noon. Upon first inspection, everything in the camp seemed relatively normal. We searched their tent and found all their belongings sitting inside. Truck keys, wallet, map, water, food, all sat in the tent undisturbed. A small pot filled with water and now extra soggy macaroni noodles sat above a long dead fire pit. It was obvious they had left in a hurry. No tracks were visible to determine what directions they went, so we used a pair of socks we found in the tent as a base smell for the hounds. They caught the scent and started leading us north of the campsite. As we walked, I looked at my partner and we both shook and lowered our heads. North of their campsite was tens of thousands of of acres of dense woods. We knew this was going to be a long search.

As we searched, we used a grid pattern.

A grid pattern is roughly an acre sized square on a map that S and R used to determine a more precise direction that someone might have gone. The weirdest part was that the hounds would pick up their scent in one square, but not in any of the squares directly next to the that square. This happened multiple times. It was as if someone plucked these guys up from their campsite and placed them in random sections of the forest repeatedly. I began to get a very bad feeling after this. Something just didn't seem right about the situation. The team had covered roughly three miles of area as the day started to wind down. As dusk began to hit, it was just myself, my buddy Rob and his hound Russ that stayed behind. The rest of the team made their way back home and we would be back out tomorrow morning. I always stayed out overnight when a child was lost. I had a feeling of guilt being in a warm, safe bed while a child was cold and scared out in the wilderness. We eventually found a small cliff clearing to make camp. By the time night fell, we had a fire blazing and our sleeping bags laid out in the grass. Rob and I went over the next day's search plan for a bit, ate dinner and eventually hunkered down for the evening.

So good, so good, so good.

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[Storyteller]

Laid on my sleeping bag and quickly dozed off. I woke up sometime later. I sat up and looked around. As my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, I felt like someone was watching me. The urge to look around to ensure that no one was sneaking up on me was intense. I called out, hello, Sam? Frank, is that you?

We're looking for you. Are you there?

I didn't hear any response, so I laid down and tried to fall back asleep. Just a few minutes later, I heard it. Somewhere to my left, past the tree line, came a loud wolf whistle. A wolf whistle is the whistle you hear in movies or TV when a man sees a very attractive woman. I sprang up out of my sleeping bag and and began frantically scanning the tree line. At this point, Russ was up too. His ears were peaked and he was whining in the direction of the whistle. I called out again, hello? I am a deputy with the sheriff's office. Do you need help? Sam Frank? I received no response. Rob was awake now and as I was explaining the same situation, the whistle came again, but this time to our right. I drew my sidearm and flicked on my flashlight as Rob took out his large buck knife and stood beside me. We scanned the tree line but we didn't see anything. We continued scanning the tree line and calling out for another 10 minutes before we decided to get the fire going again and wait until dawn to search the area. We didn't hear another whistle for the remainder of the early morning. As dawn broke, Rob and I searched the area. We found two pairs of boot prints in the fresh mud. We decided to head Back home, get some rest and return later in the day to continue searching. We were only about 200ft from the clearing when two simultaneous wolf whistles came from behind us. As I turned, I scanned the trees. I didn't see anything at first, but as I looked farther back towards the entrance to the clearing, I saw two silhouettes standing out in the open. We couldn't see any features or clothing. As the morning sun was blinding us, I called out and started making my way towards them. When they took off running, I was to going going to chase them. When Rob stopped me, I was puzzled. I said, rob, what? We're looking for two people and there they are. Stop wasting time. He replied with stop and think for a second. We are looking for one male adult and one male child. Unless this kid is the next Randy

Brewer, there's no way that he's that

tall at age 11. That's when the realization hit me. He was right. Those two silhouettes obviously were not the

two people that we were searching for.

If I was alone or with another deputy, I would have chased them. But I wasn't willing to put a civilian volunteer in danger. We decided to just continue our way back to the trailhead and debrief the team and sheriff on the events that had trail transpired. The rest of the hike back to the trailhead was uneventful. We met up with the search team and the sheriff when we arrived as

they were getting geared up to head back out.

We received a few scoffs and eye rolls when retelling the events that occurred, but the sheriff surprisingly believed our claims. He even had one of the deputies carry an M16 for the remainder of the search. We continue.

We continued our search for 13 days,

never finding the two missing individuals. A few people claimed they heard wolf whistles while out searching, but I never did again. This mission still haunts me. I have wondered all these years what happened to those two and if the two silhouettes that I saw had something to do with their disappearance. I was probably about 17 or 18 when this happened and my sister was 20 or 21. I live in a little valley which is not particularly known for being overly dangerous or scary, though there have been some occasional serious criminal activity. But I had been walking around in the day and at night for years and had never encountered anything that seemed life threatening. Here is a quick description of my surroundings during the incident. The school grounds we were on had one big building, two playgrounds and two big fields. All of this was enclosed by a little fence which ran around the whole premises. And outside of the fence was a little side street which led onto the main road. The structure we were sitting on was located across from the main building and on the edge of the gravel field, and the surface below us was made of those little playground wood chips. They lay under swings and slides and stuff like that. Now that that's clear, look, lets begin My older sister and I are extremely close and we have always loved spending time together.

We would regularly go out on late

night walks around where we lived, especially in the summer, and would often end up at the local elementary school's playground

because it had swings and structures that

we could sit on. One night, during the summer, as usual, we went to Save on Foods, one

of our local grocery stores, for some

snacks and drinks, then walked up to the park to sit on our favorite swing set. My sister and I had been chilling there for a while, talking and laughing about the normal bs, when I heard what sounded like something hard dropping from the sky onto the gravel a little ways in front of us. I don't remember exactly what I thought of it at first, but I knew that it wasn't rain, hail, or any sort of natural substance you would expect to fall from the sky. After a short while it happened again, this time a little closer than before. That's when I said, did you hear that? To my sister, who hadn't heard the first sound and was still in the middle of talking. We both sat and listened to listened in silence for a bit. Then we heard it again, even closer. This is when I started to get a bit scared. Since it was dark and it sounded like whatever was falling was obviously getting closer. My childlike mind started imagining all kinds of scary things that it could have been. Since none of my thoughts were necessarily realistic, it helped keep me slightly calm, being able to reassure myself that we were fine and safe. Then something hit the gravel again, very close to us this time. They were rocks.

What the heck? I thought.

Rocks. It's rocks. I screamed, yet somehow still keeping my

voice at a whisper, I scrambled out

of my swing to step back a little in fear that the next one might actually hit one of us. Since it was so dark, I had no way of knowing if it was heading for the ground or my face. My sister was nervous too, but still kept a slight attitude of nah, it can't be that. But then another one came, came down and actually touched the wood chips, this time causing my sister to also scramble out of her swing to step back with me. Both of us were now blindly attempting to shield ourselves with the thin Metal poles of the structure we were just on. We both had realized now that the rocks were being thrown and they had to be thrown by someone. This scared me even more, knowing that a person not only had been lurking in the dark watching us for God knows how long, but they were actually trying to hurt us for some reason, and we didn't even know where they were. We were both frantically scanning the area, looking to see someone standing near us or behind a wall looking at us. And that's when I saw him. Standing on on the roof of the school. A tall silhouette of a man wearing a trench coat or a cape or some sort of clothing which hung all the way down to his ankles, with a hood pointed up over his head. I couldn't see his face, but judging from his structure, I assumed it was a man. I felt all of the blood drain from the top half of my body. I couldn't stop looking at him. I was so utterly confused as to who this guy was and why on earth he was on the roof of a school in the middle of the night throwing actual stones at two girls he didn't know. Oh Lord, my sister said once she also noticed the man standing there. She let out a nervous giggle and so did I.

But I think we both knew how

scary the situation was and how scared we both were. At this point, the man just kept still. I felt kind of stupid for feeling as scared as I was, because it was probably just a stupid, bored teenager who got a kick out of scaring the crap out of random people. But once the next rock hit the pole hole right in front of us, making a perfect ping noise, I didn't really care if it was just a dumb teen. I wanted to get out of there. I timidly ducked out of the COVID of our makeshift shield and began to quickly gather my things, holding one hand in front of my face, attempting to protect myself from any other rocks that were possibly heading for my head. This time my sister was doing the same. That is when we heard it. Probably one of the creepiest sounds I have ever heard someone make in real life. Like something out of a horror movie. The man let out the most bone chilling, screechy yet bellowy scream. It sounded like it would have been in the movie World War Z. Almost like he was making the same sound by breathing in super aggressively, but somehow it was still so loud we both gasped and my gaze shot up to him so quickly that it hurt the back of my neck, as if the sound had found its way into my body to rattle my organs. My stomach dropped to the floor and I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. I guessed this is when my fight or flight really kicked in, because I remember my whole body suddenly feeling cold and super shaky, like it was hard to keep my jaw from shivering. Both my sister and I hardly waited a second.

We booked it out of there as

fast as we possibly could, bolting out of the gap in the fence onto the little side street. We kept rolling, running up the street now with our heads facing backwards, both of us expecting to see the man come sprinting out of where we had just exited, coming to hurt us, kidnap us, or worse. We eventually started to slow down, still keeping our eyes on the fence. My sister, trying to break the tension with some laughs, jokingly broken up by heavy breathing, started to say, imagine he just comes running out there after us making that noise. I quickly interrupted her now crying with some abrupt and inaudible babbles, trying to

tell her to please stop describing such

a horrifying scenario, because to me, that joke could easily have come true in that moment. This story, fortunately for us, does not have a bad ending. The man never emerged, never came after us, never followed us, and we never had an encounter like it again in the future. My sister and I are now 20

and 23 years old.

Although the scary thing was that when we eventually made it around the two fields that sat across from the school building that the man was standing on, he was nowhere to be seen. We couldn't see him on the roof walking around the school, and we didn't see him on the street. When we eventually started our abrupt return journey home, he was just gone. Though my sister and I both made it out of there totally unharmed with my merely a spooky story to share, and it probably was simply a bored person who thought it would be funny and harmless to pull a prank on a couple of girls, it still scared

the life out of both of us.

Remember that even though in the moment you might think that your pranks and jokes are totally harmless, you never know how they might affect someone when that someone feels that they are genuinely me in serious danger.

With a year that started with my mom passing away and the whole world shutting down, what was to follow would make up for it in more ways than one. When my mother died, I felt like everything around me was falling apart. All my friendships were fading and I had to mourn alone during the lockdown. That was until my neighbor Ryan reintroduced himself.

To me.

At the time of this story, I was 18 and he was 22, which is why we didn't become best friends right away. Long story short, he invited me over to one of his bonfires to have drinks with his his friends who were all around the same age as Ryan. Besides Ryan, two of them I became closest with were Colin and Aiden. Those two were a sight to behold. I have never seen two people who weren't married talk to each other as much as them and no one complained about it as much as their girlfriends. We all became close pretty fast. They all came to my mom's funeral despite not knowing her, whereas childhood friends were nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, this story doesn't end nearly as

good as it starts.

The last Saturday before my freshman semester was coming around and we all got together despite an unexpected rainstorm hitting us that day. We were all having a few and wanted to end the summer with a blast. Colin pitched us an idea. Colin owned a beat up old jeep outside his house and by owned I mean his grandfather gave it to him. He was planning on selling it that next day and was quietly trying to get me, Ryan and Aiden to take it out for one last joyride with him. Red flags popped up when I got the hint that he didn't want him and Aiden's girlfriends to know. Knowing that we had been drinking for a little over an hour and that the roads were really wet and his Jeep had no doors or top, I was initially worried about the idea and how confident he was with it. I knew it was a bad idea, but I didn't want to kill the vibe of the party. I didn't want to be the youngest guy in the room telling everyone else to be careful. This was when I made the worst decision of my life. Not only did I begrudgingly decided decide to keep my mouth shut, but I also tagged along. I was trying to act cool, but it was becoming clearer and clearer to me that my much drunker friends were a bit too far gone. Me and Aiden got in the back, Ryan sitting in shotgun and Colin sitting in the driver's seat.

As the ride went on and music

continued to blare, my stresses began to get relieved. My worries began to fade. As I started to think. I started to finally have a good time again. That's when I looked over and saw that Aiden was standing up without his seatbelt on. I looked at him and then looked at Ryan and Colin and I wasn't sure if they didn't notice or didn't care, but they definitely weren't doing anything. I began trying to find pull him back down inside the Jeep. My heart now beating fast inside my chest as I can see that we're going well over the speed limit. I can hear the tires kicking bits of water up on the pavement as we were flying. I am now screaming at the top of my lungs to get Colin and Ryan's attention, but due to the music, I don't think they heard me. Aidan isn't listening as he was too drunk to understand how dangerous what he was doing was and that would be our downfall. While tugging on him to get back down, I looked back when I heard a funny noise coming from the tire. That's when I noticed that the back of the Jeep was swinging back and forth and before I could even realize what was actually happening, our wheels locked up. I was awoken with a ringing sound. Sound blaring inside my head, eyes slowly opening up to the dead of night. Other than a few mumbles and groans from nearby, I look up and see the night sky above me trying to clear my throat before coughing up some blood. That's when it all hit me. I looked around, seeing that I was still in my seatbelt, but we were no longer on the road. We were hanging off the road with the side of the Jeep slammed up against a guardrail in an awkward angle. You know those moments you have when something so astronomically bad happens while intoxicated that you instantly become sober? This was one of them. I pried my seatbelt off me before stumbling out of the Jeep. I looked back behind me to check the jeep, noticing that Colin and Ryan were in the front with both of their airbags deployed. That's when I looked back and didn't see Aiden. I painfully crouched under to see if he was on the ground on the other side, but I could not see him while looking under the Jeep. I began frantically looking around before panicking realizing where he might be. That's when I got a good look at car Colin and Ryan. Not because my eyes lingered on them, but because of Ryan's screams. Those deafening and heart piercing screams. Ryan had stuck his arm out while trying to brace himself for impact and his arm nearly snapped in half. When I found him, he was in the midst of screaming his lungs out and trying to put his arm back together.

And then I saw Colin.

We had nothing to stop shrapnel from hitting us with the doors off and

by the looks of it, his airbag

wasn't as protective as Ryan's. His face was covered with gashes and

little rocks and pieces of glass shards

sticking out of him. I couldn't focus on them though. At least I knew where they were. I needed to find Aidan. I began calling his name, screaming it as loud as I could with nothing but the headlights of the smashed Jeep to help me out. I began stumbling in the direction the Jeep was facing, looking around at what was lit by the headlights in hopes of finding something.

A part of me was nervous to find something.

I was injured. And even if I did find him, what if he was as hurt as caught? Colin and Ryan.

What was I going to do?

Before I could come up with an answer, the choice was made for me. I had found him about 40ft away from the Jeep, lying face down by a tree. I began scurrying over to him, calling his name and dropping to my knees.

I could see blood in the dirt, but due to it being night, I couldn't get a good, good glimpse of it.

I gripped his shoulder and rolled him

over, seeing the immense amount of blood

begin to pour as I lied him on his back. I began to cry and scream in

horror as I couldn't believe the amount

of blood I saw.

It was like a fountain that never ended.

Not knowing what to do, I did

the only thing I could think of. Wipe the blood away.

I gripped the bottom of my shirt

and used it to try and wipe the blood away. But it didn't work. I then took my hand and began

wiping some of the blood off his face. But the realization I would soon discover would strike horror into my mind for

the rest of my life.

I didn't understand why it wouldn't work. I didn't understand why there was still so much blood. And that's when I looked at the

the palm of my hand. I wasn't just wiping off blood from his face, I was wiping off entire chunks of his face. There was more than just blood on my hand. There were pieces of tissue, flesh, his

face resting in my hand.

I immediately let go and began scooting

away in horror as I screamed as loud as I could while beginning to

figure out the true state he was in. At the time I didn't realize it, but there was nothing I could have done at that point.

I was already one joyride too late.

I don't sleep very much anymore. If I do, it's only about three, five hours a night. I don't talk to Colin or Ryan that much anymore either. They eventually came to that night before realizing the rain result of our actions. Yes, our actions. There was no villain in this story. No creepy home intruder, no spooky ghost. Just dumb young adults who made a life ending decision because of liquor and peer pressure. Unfortunately, not every detail can be shared from this story as there is still a pending court case face. Hopefully people learn from this story though, and don't have to learn from experience.

Years ago now, back when I was about 8 or 9, my folks and

I lived in this.

This huge, weird old house that was like right on the edge of this small town in rural Pennsylvania. The local school districts also happened to be in the middle of this big restructuring. So even though me and my little brother were only a couple of grades apart, we went to different schools and took different buses. This meant I was the last person to leave the house every morning, but also the first person to get home every afternoon since my school was much closer than his. But this also meant that it was also my job to make sure all the lights were off and all the doors were locked when I left every morning to head off to school. So this one morning, I became aware of the fact that the light was on in the basement and that the door was open. So before I left, I saw to it that the light was off and the door was locked. Then later, when I got home that afternoon, I saw that the light was on and the door was open again. I remember thinking I was losing my mind or something, that I had totally just imagined locking it up. I mean, I was pretty tired most mornings after staying up late playing overwatch. So it wasn't out of the question that I had just forgotten to do it. So I went over to turn off

the light and close the door.

But when I got to the top of the basement staircase, I looked down

to see that there was a big

shadowy figure standing at the bottom. I freaked out, slammed the door and pushed a cabinet up against it and then bolted to hide upstairs in my room. For months, I didn't tell my family because I was positive that what I had seen was a ghost. And I didn't think anyone would believe me. It was Halloween time. I was young and dumb and happened to have fostered a firm belief in the paranormal. Then about six months after that weird little incident, my mom and dad realized that things had been going missing around the house. They blamed me and my brother at first, but after we insisted that we were innocent, we all walked around the place with flashlights trying to figure out how anyone might have gotten inside side without actually breaking in. It turns out the thing I had seen in the basement was an actual man. And he had been climbing in through a small hole on the outside of the house, worming his way through a crawl space, then coming up into the house through the basement. Recognizing I had been alone in that house with him on at least one occasion was one of the worst, most terrifying reasons realizations I've ever had in my life. Needless to say, I don't believe in ghosts anymore. This happened to me when I was 11 and I was staying at a friend's house who I will call Kit. Kit was one of those cool kids in school who was always up to trouble. Looking back, I don't understand how I managed to remain friends with him for so long as I was anything but cool and never did anything he did. One night I was staying over at his place on a Friday after school and we started playing touch football in the backyard one on one. After playing for about 20 minutes he asked if I had heard of a game called Mop, which I had not. He explained to me that the way the game works is you hide by the road and when someone walks or drives past you shout the word mop hoping to get some kind of reaction. I suppose the game can be known by any other name, but in my case he called it Mop. I agree, so we went down to his front yard and looked up and down the road to see if anyone was heading our way. I should note that Kit's house isn't actually on a main road, so the only reason you would drive down on the left is if you were going to a house further down. And there were only a few houses on this street past Kit's house so I wasn't expecting many people to pass by. I hid behind the garage bins which were by the driveway fence and Kit was hiding in the opposite side in the garden. At this point it was about 4pm so it was still light out, which to me made the game less fun. About two minutes in, a car drives by and Kit shouts out mop. Nothing happened, which was no surprise. I knew someone driving by wouldn't be

able to hear us.

Not long after, a man and woman were walking their dog and as they were walking by, Kit shouted Mop. At them. The man and woman stopped and looked around confused for about five seconds and then they started walking again. That was the exact reaction I was expecting. After about 10 or more disappointing reactions. I was starting to get bored, but Kit was having too much fun. Eventually I noticed a homeless looking man making his way over. Kit couldn't have seen him yet, so I gave him the signal that someone was near and he waited. As the man was getting closer I could see that he was talking to himself like he was arguing with someone.

As he got closer, I could see

that he was at least in his 40s. I could see how dirty he looked. He had long greasy black hair and his face was covered in dirt. I was starting to get nervous. When the man was passing us. I heard Kit shout out something that I cannot repeat. It was really, really bad. The man looked right towards the house in an instant, looking absolutely furious. I was freaking out as the man could have even easily spotted me hiding behind the bins. The man started passing back and forth with his eyes fixed on the house, looking around and muttering to himself. Eventually he started walking back the way he was heading and once he was out of my view, I got out from behind the bins and made my way over to Kit. I was about to yell at him and tell him how stupid it was what he said, but then he said, let's follow him. I told him that was a terrible idea, but As a stupid 11 year old kid, I eventually agreed. We kept at a distance and followed the man off the road and at the entrance to the brush. We hid behind a car and watched the man.

I wish I could say we headed

back right then, but Kit wanted to see where he was going so we followed. Kit went forward first and I followed close behind. I was walking as quietly as possible,

but the leaves were all so dry

so they crunched really loud as we walked over them. About five minutes into this, Kit stopped dead in his tracks and I heard him whisper, oh crap. I walked up next to him and just ahead behind some rocks, there was the man crouching down looking right at us. I didn't have time to react as the man stood up and started sprinting towards us. Kit and I turned and ran screaming. I could sense that the man was closing in on us and I feared that any second he would grab me and that would be the end. Lucky for us, we heard the man trip and fall.

[Narrator/Advertiser]

Fall.

[Storyteller]

I remember just feeling the air move under the man's body just inches behind me. I was easily in arm's reach. Hearing the man fall, I slowed down and looked back and saw him lying flat on his stomach and he let out an angry growl. I turned and continued running. I couldn't see Kid at this point, but I could hear the crunching of the leaves and branches so I knew he was still close. Eventually I got out of the brush and started running on the road back to the house. When I got there, Kit was already there, out of breath and sweating. I started to cry due to the realization that we could have both just been seriously injured. I never spoke of this story to anyone and I don't think Kit has either. I haven't been to Kit's house since. My deepest apologies to that man who my friend and I mistreated. It was a very stupid thing to do and I've always felt bad about it, but I would say he got his revenge simply because of how scared we were. So this story is going to be partly from my perspective as well as my brother's perspective, and it's going to be a long one. This is a true story that happened last night while I was at my grandma's house. So before this all took place I went to get McDonald's in the nearest city to us, which is about 20 minutes away away. After that I decided to go down to my grandma's house instead of going straight home. For context, she lives down a long farm road to which you also have to turn off down a half mile dirt driveway just to get to her house. I arrived there at around 9pm and I went in and visited with my grandmother and my brother who lives with her ever since my grandpa passed away so that she won't have to live down there all alone. My brother and I took out my grandma's dog to go pee at around 10.30pm and we just sat outside listening to music and talked for a while. At that point I was starting to get cold because this is East Texas and I am not yet used to it getting down into the low 40s at night. So I was about ready to head inside. I noticed something moving moving in the corner of my eye near the large metal shop that sits a few hundred yards from the house. I didn't really take too much notice though because it is not uncommon for deer or raccoons to come snooping around in the yard and plus my grandma's dog wasn't barking so I thought that it might have just been my eyes playing tricks on me. We finally headed back inside and my grandma went to sleep around 11pm so me and my brother stayed up and played among us and watched YouTube for a while. At around 2.30am I was very tired and ready to go home so I asked my brother to walk with me to the door and make sure that I got out to my car because I am always paranoid, especially at night. He joked around and said that he would turn the light off on me and lock the door and I freaked out and begged him to walk walk me out to the car to which he finally did. I got in my car and immediately locked the doors and I saw the

porch lights turn off as I was

driving off back down the dirt road. I got home within 10 minutes and fixed myself some ice cream before I sat down and enjoyed some creepy horror stories on YouTube. Another 15 or so minutes passed and I got a FaceTime call from my brother to which I picked up almost immediately. I could tell that he was freaked out about something, but he wasn't saying anything right away so I asked him what was wrong. The following is my best attempt to paraphrase what my brother told me. He said that after I left he went back outside to listen to some music and sit on the porch. He had the music on his phone up pretty loud, which would usually mask any noises of animals coming from the nearby woods. After a few minutes of listening to music, he said that he heard what he thought to be sounds of metal banging around, so he quickly paused the music and listened to see if he could hear the sound again. He stood up and looked towards the shop and the boat shed which are adjacent to each other and are a few hundred yards away from where he was standing. He saw a faint light shining around near the boat shed, but then it quickly flicked off. At this point he was freaking out so he quietly crept back inside the house and locked the door behind him. He said that he ran to his room in the back of the house, I guess not thinking to wake up our grandma, and he grabbed his weapon. He quickly ran back outside and saw the glow of the flashlight move around and then quickly shut off as soon as he noticed it. He walked out to the edge of the concrete carport and stared out towards the boat shed with his weapon down at his side. The only thing illuminating the boat shed was the faint light coming from the house.

He said that he tried to muster

up the most intimidating voice he could

manage and said who is out there?

To which there was no indic immediate reply except for a slight bumping sound which solidified the fact that someone was indeed there. Now keep in mind this is out

in the middle of the country in

a town with a population of just over 1,000 people and the nearest house is across the lake or miles down the farm road, so no well meaning person would just happen to stumble across my grandma's house this late at night. Also, my grandma has had problems with people snooping around the property in the past, so this is not something any of us take lightly and for the

life of me I can't tell you

why my brother didn't just Call the police. But you also have to remember there is only a few cops in the entire town and it is 3am and so it would take at least 30 minutes for the cops to even show up.

So my brother again called for the person to show themselves and repeated his

question and asked the person to identify themselves.

He said that he practically crapped his pants as a tall lanky figure slowly

emerged from the boat shed with a flashlight in hand. Although my brother couldn't see any distinct features about the person, he could definitely tell that it was an older man

and that it was no one that we knew. It was especially not anyone that should be in our boat shed at 3am at this point he raised the weapon up to point at the man and again shouted who are you?

The man was still silent and began slowly walking towards him.

My brother took a step forward and gave one last verbal warning to the man and said I swear I'll use this.

[Narrator/Advertiser]

This.

[Storyteller]

Now who are you and why are you here?

The man quickly raised his hands up and said whoa whoa whoa, calm down man. In a taunting voice as he continued walking towards my brother.

My brother fired a single shot just

above the man's head, to which he finally took that as his cue that my brother meant business. The man hurriedly took off on foot foot back down the driveway and my brother screamed don't come back. My brother then quickly ran inside to wake up my grandma who had somehow slept through the entire commotion.

She didn't seem worried enough to actually call the police, but of course after

hearing this, all I could think about was what were the true intentions of that man? Was he just some druggie snooping around looking to steal some tools or money? Or were his intentions much more sinister? Another question that haunts me about this whole situation is how many times has this happened after my grandma and brother went to bed and we just didn't know? And was he watching us from the shadows all night?

Was he watching me as I walked

out to my car? What would have happened if my brother

had actually turned out the lights and

locked the door before I could get to my car? I have a pretty good imagination, but

I really don't like to use it

thinking about the possibilities and to the

stranger who tried to rob us or

do God knows what at 3 o' clock in the morning.

I hope you learned your lesson.

[Narrator/Advertiser]

It's.