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See full terms @mintmob 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. Just for context, I am a 23 year old male who lives in the Midwest surrounded by woods and open farmland. I often have sleep paralysis and I don't have creepy or off putting experiences. Sometimes I will hear something or see something that I think could be just my brain still half asleep. Not too scary. For anyone who hasn't had sleep paralysis before, it's mostly just being awake and not being able to move. And yes, that sounds scary, but to a person that it happens to almost on a weekly basis, you get kind of used to it. Most of the time. I just realize I'm in that state of being awake and not being able to move. So I usually just casually try to move my leg and arm muscles to eventually wake up and reposition myself so I can try to go back to sleep. Usually changing positions helps. There were two occasions that I would like to share that genuinely terrified me. The first incident was the very first time I had sleep paralysis. I was about 8 years old and I was living with my grandparents at the time in the middle of a 26 acre plot on the countryside. I had a television set that was from the 80s or 90s. Basically one of those types of TVs that gave you that weird static feeling if you got too close. Anyway, I was sleeping one night and I heard the sound of metal scraping and I woke up. The TV had a white stick static that was illuminating my room. In the room there was a closet that had a broken sliding door that would only open with extreme force. Enough force that I as an 8 year old child couldn't even open. Well, the scraping metal sound was the door sliding open. And I knew it was that sound because I had heard it all the time when my grandparents needed to get into that closet. When I realized what it was, I thought it was one of my grandparents though I thought it was strange that they were trying to get into the closet since it was around 2 or 3am at the time and there isn't really anything they should need in there at that time of night. It was mostly just old clothes and random knick knacks they have collected. When I went to turn my head to see what it was, I couldn't move my head. So I tried to pull my blanket off my body to try and stand up and I couldn't. The only feeling I had was what I could best describe as that feeling when your arm or leg falls asleep and you get that pins and needles feeling. Yeah, that. But across my entire body I was genuinely terrified of why I couldn't move and why I heard the closet opening. Eventually I turned my eyes enough to see out of my peripheral vision a figure standing halfway out of the closet, staring at me. Not moving, just standing, staring. It was watching me struggle to move and I couldn't do anything but stare back. I will never forget the long gangly look of the figure. If I had to compare it to something, I would say it reminds me of the rake. But obviously this was a time before Internet scary stories and creepypastas, so I didn't know what that was at the time. All I know is I was in a complete state of shock and horror and I tried to let out a scream to alert my grandparents but I couldn't even muster up a squeak. Eventually, with enough brute force and a will to live, I managed to regain all my senses and shot up out of my bed and ran to turn on the light. The figure was gone but the closet was still open. I remember running to my grandparents room and screaming that there was a man in my closet and my grandpa who was a hunter had many weapons in the house and grabbed one. He threatened anyone who was in the house that they better show themselves. No one was there. I told them about the closet, but they just told me it must have been open already. I know it wasn't open. Everything you want for summer is at Nordstrom Rack stores now and up to 60% off. Stock up and save on the brands you love like Vince, Sam, Edelman, Frame and Free People. Join the Nordic Club to unlock exclusive, exclusive discounts. Shop new arrivals first and more. Plus buy online and pick up at your favorite rack store for free. Great brands, great prices. That's why you rack. Where is Daredevil? I'm right here. Don't miss the return of Marvel Television's Daredevil Born Again. So what's next? I feel liberated. We're gonna take this city back over medicated in an all new season. Now streaming only on Disney. They're hunting us. It's time we started hunting them. I can work with them. This should be tons of fun. Marvel Television's Daredevil Born Again now streaming only on Disney. This episode is brought to you by Starbucks. That is fire. Whoa, that's good. This might be the drink of the summer. Okay, I like this one too. I'm rocking with it. Okay, try it for yourself. Starbucks refreshers concentrates are coming home. Find them in the coffee aisle and make it yours. Because that closet already scared me and I made sure it was closed before I went to bed. I never slept in that room again. I had my brother switch me rooms. I made up an excuse that I didn't like the color of the room and he just went along with it. But I think he knew I was scared and he was older, so we took the room just to be a good brother. I never told him of the experience I had with the figure because I didn't even know if it was real or not. The second experience was more recent and the only other time that I have had a truly terrifying experience with sleep paralysis. I am now married and I told my wife about my sleep paralysis, but I told her not to worry too much because I am more used to it happening and I usually just keep my eyes shut to avoid seeing anything creepy. And like I said before, it's easily manageable and I usually don't see anything anyway. I just want to be sure. Anyway, this experience happened a few days before riding this. It was during the middle of the day and I was taking a nap in my bed. Usually when I have sleep paralysis I can get myself out of it within a few seconds and go back to bed like nothing really happens. Not this time. This time I woke up and knew I was paralyzed. So I tried to move my arms and legs around to get my body awake but for some reason I could not get myself out of it. Like I said, I keep my eyes closed to avoid seeing anything. But this time, after about two or three minutes of trying to wake myself up, I started to get frustrated so I decided to open my eyes. To my left is a large window. I live in an apartment complex in the underground level, so the window leads straight to the ground at eye level. Well outside in broad daylight, I saw what looked to be the same figure I saw as a child. I can't be too sure though. All I know is that this thing was tall and black and it was walking toward my window. Outside the apartment complex is a line of trees about 40ft back and it was at the tree line. As it slowly got closer, I noticed some features on the figure. Its eyes were beet red and it was smiling wide. Its teeth were poking out of its mouth and they were razor sharp. I couldn't do anything but watch in terror as this tall, horrifying figure walked toward me. It put me in a state of fear and I honestly almost started to cry thinking my life was about to end. Finally, after about 30 seconds of me staring at this figure getting closer to me, I finally managed to wake myself up and just as soon as it appeared, it was gone. I will never forget the way it was staring at me menacingly, almost like it was enjoying watching me suffer. It was the summer of 2012 and a dry, hot California day. I was 12 years old and lived in the mountain areas of California with my parents. I didn't have a cell phone yet, so I spent most of my days outside playing in the dirt. This day in particular was the worst. My parents were in a toxic marriage with each other and spent most of their days fighting. This day the fight was so bad that my dad left and my mom went straight to sleep in an alcohol induced coma. I was old Enough to understand not to get involved and just stay outside. So I did. I was playing in the backyard when I started to hear a woman's cry. At first I thought it might just be my mother waking up and getting upset again. Her bedroom window was always open and faced the backyard. So in my mind this felt completely logical. I went back to what I was doing and about two minutes later I heard the cry again and this time it had grown louder. I began to feel unsettled as I realized that the sound was coming from in front of me, not behind me. I peeked around the corner and looked down the street to be faced with a horrific image. There was a grown woman walking down the street. She was completely naked and covered in blood. She was crying with the most unsettling cry I had ever heard. I thought to myself, I need to get inside. But because I hesitated, it gave the woman time to notice me and she began speed walking up to my house. I was frozen with fear as this woman approached me. She was crying and breathing heavily. As she got closer, I realized the blood was actively pouring from her stomach. I ran up my stairs and started screaming, screaming for my mom. The woman shouted, wait, I don't want to hurt you. Please, I need help. Tears were welling up in my eyes and I was shaking from fear. I stopped in my tracks at the top of the stairs and said, okay, sit on the stairs and I'm going to go get my mom. The woman responded, thank you so much. I have been attacked and he's still looking for me. Being a dumb 12 year old, this was somewhat comforting to me to know that she was a normal woman who had been hurt. But concerning that she may bring an attacker to my house. I went and woke up my mom who was angry at me for waking her up and telling a lie. She came outside with me anyways and I watched her face lose color and she realized there really was a bloody woman on the porch. My mom yelled at me to go grab the woman one of her old T shirts and to call 911. I brought my mom's T shirt and she helped the woman get dressed. I called 911 on the house telephone and frantically explained what had happened. The operator asked me, sweetheart, are you there alone? I responded, no, my mom is here with me. Sitting next to the woman. The 911 operator took a deep breath and said, this is what I need you to do. I need you to tell your mom the ambulance is on the way and then tell her to get inside and lock all of your doors. Until the police and paramedics arrive. I was confused and I once again explained to the operator that the woman was attacked and the attacker is out looking for her. The operator then said something that sent chills down my spine. Sweetheart, she is the attacker. She stabbed her neighbor 37 times. He called first and was picked up about 30 minutes ago. Police have been looking for this woman for months as this is not the first time she has attacked someone. It was at that moment that I looked outside and noticed that the woman was holding a box cutter in her left hand. I screamed at my mom to get inside now. Which caused the woman to jump up and pull the box cutter towards my mom. My mother kicked her and ran inside. The woman banged and kicked at our door for the entire 15 minutes it took the police and ambulance to arrive. When they got there, she stopped and began to cry again. She attempted to tell the police that she had been attacked, but they obviously were not buying it. They put the woman in the ambulance and the police handcuffed her to the railing of her bed. The sheriff called later that night and explained that the woman's stab wound on her stomach was done by her to make it look like she had truly been attacked. He had also said that this man, the neighbor, was the third victim of hers in the past few months and that if we had waited any longer we could have been next. I was given a stern talking to by the sheriff about how dangerous this could have gone and how I should never talk to strangers. It was hard to focus on him though because all I could hear in my head was the 911 operator saying Sweetheart, she is the attacker. Just to preface, my memory is a little hazy whether it be from time to time or from what happened. And for my privacy, let's say My name is Max. I grew up in a medium sized city in Wisconsin. This story takes place during elementary school. I think it was the third grade. The day started off like any other. I was going through classes, taking notes and participating every now and again. It was a few hours into the school day when I raised my hand to ask if I may use the restroom. The teacher gave me the go ahead and told me not to take too long. I exited the class and started walking to the boys room, specifically the one closer to a set of doors leading to the playground. I knew not many kids use that one unless it's recess, so it should be clear at the moment. I was pretty shy when it came to going to the bathroom with other people in with me. I usually would end up, holding it in and just waiting for everyone else to clear out. Luckily I picked a good time. The bathroom was empty and so were the stalls, so I went ahead and went about my business. Just as I finish up, I hear the door open. What great timing. I thought to myself. So I clean up, flush, and make my way to the sink to wash up. But I turned to look and see whom had come into the bathroom. I was immediately confused. There was a boy too old to be a kid, but not old enough to be a teacher. So I shyly said hello to the tall young man. I can't remember his face well, but I do remember he had dirty blonde hair and blue clouded eyes. He was also really thin but muscular and he looked like an older teenager. The stranger simply said, heya kid, how's it going? In a chipper tone of voice to which I said, good, I'm just about done if you need to go. He shook his head no and looked me up and down. I didn't really pay it any mind and started to get paper towels to dry my hands. All of a sudden he asked me, hey, do you like wrestling? Which really puzzled me. What a weird topic and why now? I don't even know you. Those were the first thoughts that came to mind. Not really, but I haven't seen much was the only answer I could come up with. He followed up by saying, oh, okay, cool, cool. Well hey, I love wrestling. Seeing those guys on stage, it's so awesome. Oh hey, can I show you this cool new move that I saw them use last night? I started getting pretty anxious and sweaty. I didn't really want to stay in the bathroom for him to show me his moves. So I told him I would have to pass and that I didn't want to be late for class. To which he said, oh, don't worry, it won't be long. Here, let me show you. He started walking up to me and it was only then that I realized just how much taller he was. My heart started going a mile a minute and the next thing I knew he put his hands around my throat. He started smiling this giant ear to ear grin. His breath smelled like cigarettes. I tapped his arm and asked for him to please let me go with desperation in my voice. He just smiled bigger and began to chuckle to himself as he began lifting me up against the wall, pinning me to it with one hand, still holding me by the throat with the other. I felt my throat tighten and my windpipe close off. My eyes began to water. I was using my hands to cling to his arm, desperately trying to break free as I struggled. And then, like a jolt of lightning, the idea came to me. With all my strength and might, I kicked him as hard as I could, right in the balls. I felt his grip loosen for just a second and then tighten with two times more force. It didn't work. He laughed and said, good effort. This time, sounding a lot meaner. I started getting cold as my sight began to blur and my consciousness was slipping. I blacked out. The world and noise faded away, and after that I woke up on the bathroom floor. He was gone, so I got up, a bit shaky, still trying to figure out where he was, and I left the boy's room and slowly walked down the hall back to class, peering over my shoulder to check if he was behind me. I got to my class and stood in the frame of my classroom door, looking down at my shoes and the white tile, only to hear my teacher, Max, didn't I tell you to hurry? It's been 30 minutes. What were you doing in there? I was stunned. I was alone in that bathroom, knocked out with a stranger for 30 minutes. I yelled back at my teacher in a raspy, harsh voice, well, it's not my fault some guy choked me. She gave me a mean but curious look and told me to go to my seat and sit down as if she didn't understand me. So I trudged back to my desk and sat. I never told my school what happened, and I told my mom almost 10 years after. The guy never got punished. I don't even think anyone knew he did something. If you want a lesson from this school, bathrooms suck. Back in 2007, when I was 19, I moved to a coastal town in Oregon from Texas. My mom was moving with my younger brother for a job and didn't want to be alone in a new state, so I had decided to move with her. I had moved around a lot by that point in my life already, and I never liked staying in one place for too long. I worked as a pharmacy technician at the time. I switched my license over to Oregon, got a job, and rented a studio apartment that was located in the basement of a very large house my landlady had inherited from her parents. She rented out the rooms in the house to boarders. To get to the apartment, you would enter the property from a side gate and follow a walkway down this little slope and around to the back of the house. When you walked through the door, you would end up in the small kitchen that had a window over the sink overlooking the backyard that was enclosed by an 8 foot tall privacy fence. And that's where I was when the strange things began. About a month after I had moved in, I was washing up at the sink in front of the window after making something to eat one night at around 11pm when my cell phone rang. Noticing it was an unknown caller, I dried my hands off and answered the phone. I said hello, and on the other end of the line was an odd garbled voice making incomprehensible noises. It almost sounded like someone trying to speak underwater, but also slightly robotic sounding. Thinking maybe it was a bad connection, I said hello again. This time the weird garbled voice said something I could make out very clearly. We can see you in the window. Terrified, I hung up the phone, made sure my doors were locked, turned off all the lights and closed the curtain in the window over the sink, the only window in the basement studio. Then I called my older brother in Texas. We always were and still are extremely close and I told him what happened. After a bit we decided it was probably some prank caller that got lucky in guessing that I had just been visible in a window. I mean, not very original, right? There hadn't been any sign that someone was in the backyard. There was an extremely high privacy fence so it was unlikely they had saw me over it. And this was a brand new Oregon number that I had hardly given out to anyone. I felt a bit better after that, but still didn't sleep very well that night. In the weeks after that call, I settled in more and was feeling more comfortable in my new surroundings. I got closer to some co workers at my new job at a local pharmacy and made some casual friends. I hadn't gotten any more calls in that time and didn't feel as alone in the town anymore, especially with one of my new friends I met at work living just three streets away. But my feeling of comfort and settling in wouldn't last very long. The unknown caller called again and again. It got to the point of where it happened on a near nightly basis. Most of the time it was that same garbled underwater voice, just babbling nonsense. But sometimes it would seem things I could make out, though almost equally incomprehensible. You think you are better than us because we do drugs. Set it on fire. We are your masters. I was creeped out, but still kept telling myself I was the victim of a random dialer that got their jollies off saying weird stuff to 19 year old girls. So I carried on with my life. This had gone on for a couple of months when one night I had gone across the street from my apartment in front of an old abandoned church to call my brother in Texas to shoot the breeze. It was late, about 2am and sound carried up into the house above my apartment. I would frequently have bouts of insomnia and my brother was usually up. So I would often sit on the steps of the church and smoke when I made late night phone calls to not disturb anyone in the house. I had been talking to my brother for about 20 minutes when another call beeped in. I checked and it was an unknown number. So I told my brother to hang on and I answered. It was the distorted voice again telling me they are watching me in front of the church and ask who are you talking to? Panicked, I looked all around me. I couldn't see anything. I switched back to my brother and told him what was happening. As I ran towards my apartment, I got inside and locked the door. I stayed on the line with my brother while I searched my apartment, making sure I was alone. I thought about calling the police and my brother thought I should too. But what could they do? I talked myself into it just being some weird game someone was playing on me and that I had nothing to worry about. A few weeks went by without any calls and after a bit I was sure they had gotten bored with the whole thing. I had been more cautious after the last call, but as time went on without any more calls, I began to feel more confident that it really all was just some harmless, albeit cruel joke someone was playing on me. So one night, pretty late, I decided to walk a few blocks up the hill from my house to a 24 hour store to buy some snacks. On my way back from the store I started to feel the late hour and I stopped and sat on a bench near the library to take a bit of a rest and sip on one of the drinks I had just bought. Behind me was a street that ran along the side of the library and my friend's street was just off of it, directly behind the bench. Within moments a big man appeared. He was in his late 30s or early 40s, wearing heavy work boots, jeans and a thick Carhartt work jacket and a black ball cap. He sat next to me on the bench, a bit too close for comfort. I was nervous because it was the extremely early hours of the morning. Someone else just happening to innocently be there didn't seem all that likely to me at the time. Though I was young, I didn't really know what to do. I was there too, wasn't I? And I wasn't up to anything. I wasn't sure if my discomfort was really all that valid. I didn't want to seem rude because in my mind, in all likelihood he wasn't a dangerous person. So I sat there until he said hi. I said hi back and scooted away from him as inconspicuously as I could. We sat in silence for a moment and feeling like I could and should leave without it being too weird or rude. I was about to get up when he said, would you like to be my friend? He had a light accent I couldn't really place nonplussed. I said excuse me, and he said we could be friends. We could go in the bushes and he gestured towards this trail that ran behind the library that leads to a park on the other side of the building. It was enclosed on both sides by bushes that ran the whole length. At this point I was getting really nervous and was trying to decide if I should just run for it and which direction I should go. My friend's street ran behind me, but his house was at the very end of the street and it was all uphill. I have never been very athletic, so I couldn't decide if that was easier or my apartment, which was downhill. I could go faster, but I didn't want him to know where I lived if he followed me. What he said next made me realize it was a pointless concern. He already knew where I lived. I missed you. I haven't seen you since the church. This is the guy that had been calling me. As quickly as the realization came to me, I sprung up. Dropping my shopping bag, I turned and ran towards my friend's street as fast as I could in flip flops with the guy right behind me. Even with the blood pumping in my ears brought on by my flight and pure terror, I could hear him chasing after me, his heavy work boots hitting the ground. It didn't take long before I felt him try to grab me in the chase, though it ended up being more like a shove right on my left shoulder and suddenly my feet were tangled up in my flimsy flip flops and I was falling forward into the road. I let out an involuntary blood curdling scream which seemed to have scared him because the next thing I know I hear his boots running back down the hill and off down the main street. I got up as quickly as I could and ran full force to my friend's house and pounded on his door. I could tell he was startled. It was the middle of the night. I was out of breath, shaking and crying and later I would notice bloody. I had hit my forehead on the cement when I fell and it was badly cut. My joggers were ripped, my knees were skinned and bloody. I was so worked up, I couldn't get a word out to explain to him why I had shown up on his doorstep at that hour and in the state that I was in. He called the police, and after calming down enough, I told them and my friend what had happened. The phone calls, everything. They drove around to see if they could find the man that fit my description. They never did, and nothing ever came from it. I moved out of my apartment in the following days and stayed with my mom until I eventually moved out of the state a few weeks later. I just couldn't handle being anywhere near where all this happened. I don't think I could have ever felt safe there again. To this day, I have no idea who that man was, let alone how he got my new phone number that I had hardly given out to anyone. One suspicion I always had was that maybe he knew someone I worked with. Our phone numbers were listed on a paper and tacked to the bulletin board in the office. When this theory came to me, I realized the unknown caller always said we. Was it him and one of the other people I worked with? Is that why he said we when he called me? At one point, I even suspected the friend I had ran to that night of being in on it. Was it just a coincidence that the man approached me so close to his house? I was a mess afterward and had all kinds of suspicions. Either way, I didn't see the man in town again before I left, and I never received another call from him. For 22 years, I have made myself believe this disturbing series of events did not happen to me. I have successfully convinced myself that this was all imagined. Our minds and souls have an amazing ability to protect us from psychological damage. Then I spoke with a friend that I haven't seen in a long time. The same friend I allegedly experienced this event with. He confirmed the whole thing. I'll do my best to accurately present the entire story as raw as it happened. And apparently it did happen. This story revolves around a Ouija board. I hate to even type or say those words. I will not and have not touched one since 1997. As previously stated, that was 22 years ago, making me 13 at the time. An age where I believe most of us start to branch out in curiosities. It's no longer just having sleepovers with friends, playing various video game consoles, or getting into high school sports Girls were starting to become appealing in my time. Professional wrestling was starting to really take off. A group of my friends were diving into horror movies and scary stories. This is something that always appealed to me. Ever since reading scary stories to tell in the dark, I was hooked. This series of books came out when I was around eight years old. They sold them at our schoolastic book fair. Looking back, these stories and illustrations were way too intense for 8 year olds in my opinion. But I sure did enjoy them. We like being scared. We like to feel something more than the everyday mundane drudge of life. My friend Philly and I enjoyed getting together and watching horror movies and telling urban legends. We started doing this almost weekly, especially during the summer when school was out. Of course this was pre Internet era, so all we had media wise was actually renting a movie or physically going to the theater. And since most horror movies were R rated, we couldn't see them. I'm sure to most millennials or post millennials, this sounds like a nightmare. Scarier than any real life story. Because we got tired of renting the same movies over and over, we often focused on urban legends, what we call creepypastas today. We might find some books at the library that had them or we just made our own up at this time. We wanted to feel some actual terror. I wish we would have just stuck with our stupid scary stories. I bet every group of friends had one of those Parker Brothers made board games stashed somewhere. The infamous Ouija board. This toy is simple. They even used to advertise it a board with the Alphabet numbers. Yes, no and goodbye. I suppose this was inevitable. Every kid has to learn for themselves that these are not to be played with literally and metaphorically. Growing up in a God fearing family, I knew this felt wrong. I felt this board wasn't right. I also could see through the marketing strategy that Parker Brothers were selling these specifically to children. Like all board games, but this was different. They wanted kids to play this only, not adults. You played Monopoly and Chutes and Ladders with your parents, you sure didn't play the Ouija with them. I felt this was wrong, but I also didn't know anything. I was 13. My current 35 year old self has a hard time understanding what happened and why. I dove into this knowing the outcome would not be ideal. I found it, my buddy Philly said, under my sister's bed. This was the start of a series of events that would haunt me for quite a while. It of course was the board. We made sure no one was home when we Pulled it out. There was an air of mischief around this thing. Certainly we couldn't deal with his sister finding us in her room and definitely not his mom finding out what we were up to. The board was glossy and new. It looked like we were possibly the first to use it. The device that two or more people used to glide over the board revealing the answers to your questions was almost ivory. I wanted to research what this was called, but I don't even want to start down the rabbit hole online. If you've noticed, I don't even want to call it by its name, simply referring to it as the board. I'll call the gliding thing the Oracle. For this story. We had two sessions with the board. The first was Incident Free. We asked a few silly questions. What our future held, if we would get married and have kids. Stuff like that. Even though I had never played this before, I still knew not to ask questions like what was the name of the person that we were talking to? Maybe we had gotten that from the hours of watching scary movies. The second session was when things got weird. Philly and I were going back and forth with the board asking some simple questions about our future lives. I remember asking where I would live as an adult and the board said Seattle. I lived 2,000 miles away from Seattle at the time. But this is where I felt the aura of the board shifted. It felt like a thunderstorm was brewing. One where the sky turned red. The Oracle we used to piece out our answers to our dumb questions had moved slowly before. Now it was jerking, almost moving off the board to the next letter. I can tell you this about this game. It is real. And neither one of us were moving the Oracle. My hands weren't even on it at some points. But back to the Seattle question. I was and still am a huge baseball fan. I have rooted, unfortunately for the Detroit Tigers for my entire life. The mid to late 90s was the explosion of Ken Griffey Jr. To major league Baseball. I loved watching him play. I got his jerseys for a couple Christmases and birthdays. I'm sure most know that Griffey played for the Seattle Mariners. I loved how that nautical s looked on that teal uniform. I started researching the city of Seattle and thought how cool it would be to live there. Do you know where this is going? This board was not plastic and glue to me anymore. There was something controlling it, something powerful and dark that knew I had this particular city on my mind at this time. I didn't let on to my buddy what I was feeling. He didn't seem to let on that he was afraid either. So we kept on. The next segment of questions is a blur to me. All I remember is the Oracle going mostly to no when we asked a question, even if it wasn't a yes or no answer that was required. Then I asked the last question that I would ever ask the don't get your hopes up. It was nothing profound or deep at all. This is what I would the Detroit Tigers ever win another World Series? The Oracle moved so fast to goodbye, I thought a tiny trail of fire would be on the board. I'll never forget looking at Filly and seeing what I'm sure was the exact same bulging eyes, mouth open expression that I had on my face. We knew that one of the rules of this game was when the board said goodbye, you put it away immediately. I think we even read that on the instructions. We threw the board into its box, hustled to his sister's room as fast as two Hostess cupcake and Mountain Dew filled teenagers could. Philly chucked the board under her bed like nothing happened. After a few breathless moments we finally started to let out tiny little laughs, lighting up into belly laughs as we hit the floor rolling. We were laughing out the nervousness, also kind of feeling dumb at how scared we got. After the madness finally started dying down, we moved on like nothing happened. I should have stated right from the start that it was late at night when we started playing. I would say it was about midnight. As cliche as that is. When the board said goodbye to us, it couldn't have been more than 1am in the morning. Philly lived in the country. Across the street was a cemetery. I know now I'm really hitting cliche territory, but I swear it's true. There weren't many houses around. If you wanted to walk to your next door neighbor, you better plan for a good 20 minute hike. Finally all mania was shed and tired from playing video games. We decided to step outside. We looked at the graveyard noting how calm the night was. Philly had a large section of his yard covered with rose bushes. They were pretty wild and were not kept up. Needless to say, nothing would be able to get into those bushes and not get completely diced. We heard rustling again. The night was calm and I don't remember any wind at all. At first we could just hear the bushes, then movement. To this day I do not know and don't care to know what it was. It could have been a small animal, but I highly doubt it. We knew something wasn't right and bolted for his house. Even writing this, I can feel an eerie presence. We both knew this was related to the board. Philly suggested we make it a night and try to get some sleep. I wish that was the end of this story. A few short hours later, we were woken up to a series of faint knocking noises. I could not determine what they were coming from, but it sounded like it was somewhere outside his house. We both cautiously got up and moved to the kitchen where his front door was and saw something that made my heart drop into my stomach. A man, slight build, wearing all denim, was standing right outside the door. The man also had creepy looking horn rimmed glasses on. Outdated even for the late 90s. Philly had a porch in the front that was raised about five steps from the ground and the man was on the ground. So when we saw him, we were actually looking slightly down at him. Seeing him from the top of his head down. It is an image that has burned into my mind. He didn't move. He just stood there. We once again fled to his room and shut the door. We didn't call the police or his mom. We just sat in his room, not sure what to do. After a few moments, we stupidly decided to see if he was still there. He was gone. I successfully convinced myself that there was no man on the side of the house. I just couldn't handle what was happening. On this night. Philly did the same. Finally, day broke and we dismissed the disturbing events of the previous night. I don't even think we discussed what happened. About a week later, I got a call from Philly. He said he had a dream that we were playing the board and a hand came out and attempted to pull his head down. He awoke sweating and in a small amount of pain from where the force had grabbed him. I hated to say that I had a similar dream right there. We decided to meet up and do something about this board. My mom dropped me off at his house a few days later to sleep over for the night. When I arrived, I could not find him in his house. This was before cell phones, so I did not have the option to simply call him and see where he was. I checked out back where his garage was. There stood Philly with the board sitting atop a pile of kindling in a burning barrel. His mischievous grin told me what his plan was. We lit that sucker on fire. Nothing happened. Now I was really freaking out. We have all heard the stories of people attempting to burn a Ouija with no success. Philly wasn't fazed though. We pulled out a Jerry can full of gasoline and doused it. The board lit up and quickly evaporated into nothing. It was over. As far as I can remember, nothing happened after that. We didn't speak of anything we experienced that night. Over the years. I chalked it all up to an overactive teenage imagination. I may have told a handful of people over the years, mainly just to tell a scary story. I know I have said this a few times, but I have completely treated this like it never happened. This to me was all imagined. We did play the game, but the rustling bush, the man. None of that happened. Over the years I moved quite a distance away from Philly. We kept in touch a few times a year, even making the almost 1000 mile drive to see him about 10 years ago. Fast forward 10 more years and I decided to make the trip one last time to see my hometown and get together with Philly. He invited some people from the area and struck up a massive bonfire. In between bites of pizza and swigs of beer, I recounted the story of that night. I told him how I imagined the aftermath of our decision to use that board. I know you're gonna think this is crazy, but I thought there was a man standing outside your house that night, I said. Philly looked at me as stone cold as he could and said, yeah, I remember that. My blood never went colder. My friend confirmed exactly what happened that night. It was like we were both there again 22 years ago. I repressed that Ouija board so hard I made myself believe it never happened. The Ouija is nothing to be played with. I haven't touched or looked at one in over two decades. How a piece of cardboard can summon some kind of evil from another realm is beyond me. I just know you don't want to open it. Last year my family and I were driving back from my grandparents house over seven hours away. It had been a long trip as traffic had been bad and we had to make frequent stops for food and let our family dog out to go to the bathroom. Finally we were on the freeway closest to my house and the trip was almost over. My mom, brother and I were all so relieved to almost be home. My dad had been on a business trip and unable to join us, which sucked but ultimately left a little more leg room in the packed car. Everything was smooth sailing with my brother and I in La la land, watching YouTube or playing games and keeping my mom awake. Suddenly the cars in front of us began to slow down and come to a stop. We naturally followed suit, slowing down and keeping an eye out for what traffic or accident was up ahead. We saw some cars begin to swerve and drive away down another lane, fast. Odd, we thought, but nothing to be worried about. That's when I realized of the two lanes on our side of the road, only the one closest to the median was stopped. We weren't sure exactly what happened, so we stayed in the stopped lane. That's when my mom suddenly locked all the doors to the car. I looked at her, confused and wondering what she saw. My brother in the back seat had begun looking around, confused and worried. I realized my mom must have seen something further up the road than I could see. I asked what was going on, but my mom didn't need to answer. The car in front began to try to pull away, but wasn't able to. That's when I saw him. A random man in the middle of the freeway, banging and trying to open people's doors to their cars. My eyes were fixated on the man and my heart began to race. My mom began to make the move to get out of there, but it was too late. The man ran from the car in front of us to my mom's door. He looked scruffy and disheveled. He began slamming on my mom's window, begging for us to let him in. My mom began yelling at the man to go away through the closed windows as she tried to pull away. My brother and I were frozen in fear, unaware what this man wanted to do to us. My mom managed to pull away a few feet before the man then jumped onto the hood of our car and began slamming his fists into the windshield. My mom screamed and I just sat there, horrified. I had never felt this type of fear before. We all like to think that when fight or flight kicks in that we'll be the hero. But I sat there helpless as this man threatened my family. The man demanded incoherently that we drive with him on our hood. My mom then saw multiple cop cars pull up behind us with two officers running up to apprehend the man. He jumped from our hood and hopped the 5 foot median. We saw the police draw their weapons and subdue him on the other side of the median as my mom slammed on the gas and sped away. We were in shock and I couldn't believe what had just happened. I listened to Being Scared, let's Read and Other True Scary Stories and never thought I would be face to face with a situation straight from a nightmare. It was only several miles later that my mom felt safe enough to pull off to the side of the road and called my dad and then the police to report what happened. The officers were incredibly kind and told us that the man was in police custody and asked if we were okay. My dad, however, was panicked. Everything he loved was in that car, he told us, and he was so glad that we were safe. That's when we realized had this man had a weapon, he most likely would have tried to use it. I began to tear up, realizing that we may have narrowly escaped a crazed man with our lives. My mom got a call the next day from the officer that had ran up from behind us and stopped the man. We were so incredibly grateful. My respect for law enforcement has always been strong and without them, I don't know what we would have done or if I would be here to tell this story. Thanks for listening and of course our dog was fine, sleeping peacefully the entire time. I would like to start by saying that all the names in this story have been changed. Last year in 2021, I was living in a townhouse in New Mexico with my twin sister, we'll call her Carrie, and our two childhood best friends, Robbie and Izzy. The time in that house was full of your typical young adult ups and downs, but amplified by the turmoil of the pandemic. That house was full of good, bad and ugly times, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. However, the last few months were absolutely terrible. Before I ended up leaving the state, let me start with a little backstory. Kerry had been in a relationship with a man who we will call Jay. Jay and Cary had a very unhealthy relationship which ended with him being kicked out of our house after an altercation between him and Carrie. Police were called and we thought that would be the end of it. Let's just say he didn't take being thrown out of the house and dumped too well. One day, on the off chance that I had a day off from work, I was in the kitchen most of the day doing some deep cleaning and self care. While I was able to do the first part with ease, I could not for the life of me shake the feeling of being watched. I have struggled with anxiety symptoms due to ptsd, so I wrote this off as me just having a bad day. That was until Robbie came home throwing the door open and shouting, tell me why. I saw J circling our block. I was in shock. I ran to the window looking over our street and sure enough, J's car was speeding off. We told Carrie about it as soon as she got home from work that day, and she then revealed to myself, Robbie and Izzy that Jay had been stalking her. I was not surprised, given the details of this situation as Carrie then told us about this next situation, which shook me to my core. One night, I want to say this story was about two weeks prior to him circling the block. Jay had been watching Carrie from afar while she went out with friends. Carrie must have forgot to lock the door when she came home. She says she woke up from a deep sleep and could have sworn that she saw someone standing over her bed. She said she didn't want to tell us right away because she had first assumed that she was dreaming or even having an episode of sleep paralysis. She would later receive a message from Jay scolding her for not talking to him when he came to the house the other night. That other night in question being the same night Carrie had come home. I started locking the doors even when everyone was home. After Carrie told me that story, he was in the house while we were all sleeping, sound in our beds, unaware that someone who we all didn't want anywhere near us was just sulking in the corner of my sister's bedroom, watching over her. He could have done anything, but he chose to just watch her. That was deeply unsettling for all of us. Now, I had already made the decision that once my lease was over, I was going to be moving in with my partner in a different state. At this point, we had all been packing up our things and preparing to move go our separate ways. For more context, the landlord had installed a security system. Nothing high tech by any means, but anytime a door or window was opened, the alarm would say in a robotic monotone voice, side door open or back office window closed. Things like that. One night I was home alone. Carrie was at dinner with Robbie and Robbie's mom, and I had no idea where Izzy was until this series of events happened. I was in my bedroom when suddenly I heard what sounded like tapping on my window. I figured it was the branches tapping like they usually did when there was even a small gust of wind. But the tapping was constant, timed almost. I still shrugged it off again, trying not to make myself anxious while I was alone in the house. It was then that I heard the security system go off. Back sliding door open from the other room. Weird. We all usually come in through this side door when the kitchen and living room meet. As our front door was next to impossible to open from the outside, I brushed it off, thinking maybe Carrie and Robbie had forgotten their keys and just came in through the back door. I called out from my bedroom, Carrie. Robbie. How was Dinner. No response. As soon as the words left my mouth, the silence was deafening. I walked out to the hallways where all of the bedrooms led and called out again. Carrie. Robbie. Izzy. Again, nothing. I'm getting a bit freaked out now, but I'm thinking that they maybe didn't hear me. But that silence. I will never in my life forget the silence that rang through that house as I inched closer to the living room. As I am finally standing in the living room, the only sounds I had heard in the span of a few minutes was my own heart beating out of my chest, my footsteps and the AC kicking on. I finally reached the living room and I had checked find my friends. To my horror, Carrie and Robbie were still at the restaurant with Robbie's mom. Izzy's phone had broken during this time too, so I had no clue where she was. Still, knowing what I know at that moment, I called out one last time, but I couldn't bring myself to turn the corner and go into the kitchen. Izzy, Are you home? Silence again. I figured maybe I was just hearing things at that point. Then I heard it came a hushed whisper from the kitchen, followed by the most hurried footsteps behind me going out the back door. I froze. Who was that? It all made sense at that point. The tapping on the window, the door opening with no noise from whoever opened it, and now this. I knew at that moment that I was not alone. Something came over me and I snapped out of this frozen reaction. You better get out of my house. I screamed at the top of my lungs. I grabbed the baseball bat that I kept in the hall closet and started shouting that same sentence in 10 different ways, opening all the doors and switching on all the lights, making sure that whoever this was had left. I finally made it to the kitchen and found out the sliding glass door was left wide open by whoever came into it. As soon as the adrenaline had worn off, the shock then set in. I booked it out of the house, locking the doors before throwing open my car door and ripping out the driveway without putting on my seatbelt. I called all my roommates, whose phone still worked. I later found out that Izzy had actually left town for the weekend and I had missed that conversation. So I know whoever was in the house was not my sister or either of my other two roommates. Robbie called the police as soon as we got off the phone. Of course, there wasn't much they could do because nothing was stolen and I didn't see who was in my home uninvited. I drove to my co worker's house and I broke down telling her what happened and I waited for her to update me on what she and Carrie were going to do. They opted to stay at the hotel with Robbie's mom that night. I don't know who it was that broke into my house that night. Was it J. Some drunk college kid who stumbled into our yard thinking it was their place? Someone with more sinister intentions who got caught at the right time? I am not sure. I think that is what keeps me up sometimes when I think too deeply about that night. I know it wasn't an anxiety induced thing. I saw the door and I heard the whisper at the footsteps hurrying out the same door they came in. I am just happy that I live with my partner in a different state state now in a relatively safe neighborhood. But even that some nights is not enough to allow me to feel safe when I am home alone. I work for a special unit with the Sheriff's Department. The official designation is the Electronic Monitoring Unit. We install, monitor and enforce all rules and policies designated when given a GPS tether. I am sure when I say ankle monitor most people will understand that a little clearer. Most of the time is spent tracking people, making sure they are within their court ordered curfew, etc. Like all police work, nothing is routine. But it's not exactly all PD live or whatever true cop show you can think of. I have been on some exciting calls working in tether. When someone attempts to cut one of these bad boys off, we get an alert immediately. The rush to get the person before they get the tether off is intense. It's even more intense when they do remove it and you find some later. Manhunting is the most exciting. I'm sure you've all read the Most Dangerous Game. I have been on some strange calls too. Every police officer has one or two stories bordering on paranormal. Back in my early days working the jail, I used to hear noises during midnight shift when I was ordered over to work. And not inmate noises, those I was used to. I mean banging sounds coming from the hallway closets where linen and toilet paper is kept. Once I passed a door and heard what I thought was a weapon going off inside. I probably had to change my uniform after that. It was really like someone kicking the door from the inside as hard as they could. It took a minute, but I did check inside to find nothing. Of course back in 1993 our department lost a sergeant in the line of duty. He was making normal security rounds in one of the old jails downtown when an inmate took him hostage with a weapon you can imagine how terrifying this would be for anyone. But you are not supposed to face anyone with a weapon inside of the jail. It is still not known how that weapon came into the jail. Most think the inmate somehow got it fished to him from the outside or it was an officer that brought the weapon in for the inmate. That is a possibility that I hate to consider. One day I was working that jail doing normal security rounds. I remember seeing a shadow walking down the long concrete hallway. I did not think much of it at the time until I remembered that the hallway didn't have any outlets left or right. Meaning that I saw this man walking down the hall. I looked down and when I looked back, he was gone. I went to look for him and he was nowhere to be found. It took me a while to put the pieces together. I asked my partner, what floor had the sergeant been killed on. The one we are on right now is what he said. The jail is one thing, but having some creepy stuff happen out in the outside world is another. I go through a lot of houses in my job. You could not believe how people live out here. Think about how you were raised and look around your home. It is not the same where I work. I will not say where, but it is a major US city with major US problems. Poor problems, racial problems and awful sports teams to boot. Let me set up this call for you. My partner and I are in the office monitoring and maintaining our population on tether, which is well into the 1000s. We have more people on GPS than in all of our jails combined. My partner gets an alert that someone on his caseload has a low battery. These devices are solid. The battery life lasts about three to four days if you charge it for two hours. Compared to our cell phones, that seems reasonable. But you just can't get some of these people to follow the rules, which is why they are in this situation in the first place. My partner goes through the process of trying to get his guy to start charging. Calling will not work. Can't get a hold of any of his friends or family either. The last resort is calling the actual device on his leg. The company we use that develops the GPS tethers has a monitoring center open 24 hours. We can call them and be patched through to the device. Finally, we get a hold of him. Just charge your tether, man. My partner yells into the phone. It's hard to hear the subject's response, but it sounds like he acknowledges it. He is staying at a friend's house right now in the southwest part of the city, which of course we can see. He of course lost his charge cord for the device. My partner decides since we are pretty close to him, why don't we just run another out to him. Sounds like a plan, I think and start getting my gear on. There was nothing strange about the house when we pulled up. Normal looking two story corner house with crap all over the overgrown yard and several cars in various states of decay. I checked an app on my county issued cell phone that shows me where the GPS points are on anyone that wears one. I just wanted to make sure it was still communicating and that he's still at this house. It looked like a yes for both. My partner gets to the door, knocks and asks for Mike. I'm at the side of the house, watching the side door, but also keeping my eyes on my partner. I hear a female voice call for Mike. Another male voice is speaking to my partner too. At this point, since contact was made and I didn't feel like anyone's going to burst out the side or back of the house, I make my way back up to my partner. I now identify the two people he's speaking with. The male is maybe in his early 20s, the female about the same. Both are what you would call in rough shape. Had something of a zombie vibe to them. Strung out, if you get me. As I'm walking up, I can also surmise that the guy is telling my partner something to the effect that the guy known as Mike is not in fact at his home. My partner calmly tells him that we know he's here. We just saw his last tracking point. Which puts him right on top of us, literally, so to speak. I believe he was upstairs. If he's not here, why did the female call for him again? We are just here to give him a charge cord. No one was in trouble. This kid starts to get shifty. Here go the eyes peeking around, the rubbing of the hands and the flat out lies. Look, he was here maybe 10 minutes ago, but he ain't here now. I don't let dopers in my home. Okay, bullcrap aside, we still have to figure this out. I want to go back to our vehicle, look at the tracking, see what's going on. It is possible that we could have just missed him. The tether calls out a location every five minutes. It's not live tracking. He may have just left when we pulled up. However unlikely it was possible, all I had to do was wait for his next point. Ding. The point is in. Let's see where this low charger is well he is still at the house. Again we go to the front and again the kid says he's not here, that he just left. I look at my phone now getting more frustrated. What the. I say out loud. Now there is a strap tamper alert for Mike. This means that our guy may have started to cut the tether off. I'm confused at how all of this had gone. My partner starts grilling the kid again. Look, cut the crap. Where is he? Still? The kid gives nothing up. I look around the area. Maybe this idiot did cut it off and throw it around the porch and the alert just came in too late. I don't see anything though and I would have heard the alarm if he did cut it off. It's louder than some ambulance sirens. Something feels strange about this whole thing. The kid invites us in to look around and we take him up on his offer. Nothing better than a consent to search a home once we get in. I am immediately taken back by the piss and cat feces smell of the home. There's literal trash in all rooms. Like the doors can't even close because they are blocked by trash. This is going to be a nightmare to search through. I can tell you right now I didn't go through any of those trash rooms. My partner and I cleared the bottom floor as best we could and started moving upstairs. This is where things get eerie. The staircase twisted. Odd for this type of home in this area. Like I said, I go through a lot of houses. It's just something you don't see that often. Once we reach the top we are all of a sudden in the Stanley Hotel. In Stephen King's the Shining it was known as the Overlook Hotel. The hallway stretched for an impossible length. The carpet was red with yellow triangles. I don't think there was carpet downstairs anywhere. The hairs are starting to stand up now. A feeling of unease is thick as the hallway juts in and out. There's a room every five feet or so and there must have been some six, seven rooms up there. That is just not possible for a house like that. And every single door was padlocked from the outside. I was beyond done trying to make anything add up with this situation. I told my partner to hold the downstairs so no one came up behind us. Since the doors were locked, I was not bothering with them. Once I got to the end of the hole I gave up and turned around. I called my partner back to game plan. I think we are about done. I said. I don't know what's going on with this guy's device. Maybe he cut it and smashed it. Either way, I think we needed to get out of that house as soon as possible. As we are heading for the winding stairs, we both hear a low thump. We look at each other with that did you hear that facial expression? While we both stand still, I hear scratching noises followed with another thumping. I don't believe either of us could tell which direction it was coming from. Weird, but could be anything. At this point I am still leaving and as I'm passing a door, my heart stops. First, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Slowly turning to my left, I'm looking directly into someone's eyeball. Peering between the slightly opened door, 10 dirty fingers start poking out trying to open the door. Imagine the lead character from the movie I mentioned earlier. Here's Mikey. This guy did not look like the person we were looking for. Who are you? I ask, embarrassed. I couldn't tone down how shocked I was. That's him, my partner said. Once I snapped back to reality. I didn't think, just acted. I blasted that door Spartan style, sending our pal Mike across the room. After being taken into custody, we questioned him and he said he got scared when he heard police were at the door. He hid and stupidly tried to cut the device off his leg. Pretty simple and thankfully safe outcome. After having some choice words with the kid we first dealt with, we brought our guy to jail and that was that. But I'll never forget seeing that hallway for the first time. All those strange padlocked doors and the eyeball style staring at me from the darkness.