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Hey, welcome to Scary Stories in Rain. Do you want to listen Ad free? Just subscribe on Spotify for $2.99 a month. Now turn out the lights, enjoy the stories, and enjoy the rain. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a smell around mine and my neighbor's property. I had noticed their dog had been gone for a while, so. So I thought the dog had died and thought nothing of it really. A few more days go by. The smell is getting worse and worse. On the day I found him, I was outside chopping up tree branches from the past few storms while my wife and son were playing in the backyard. The smell at this point had gotten so strong my whole backyard smelled. You could even smell it when you got in the car in our driveway. My 2 year old son was even making faces of disgust. A friend of mine comes over and started looking for where the smell was coming from. He follows it to my neighbor's yard, but the smell is so strong he almost throws up, doesn't see anything, and just gives up his search. My wife at this point is debating on calling the police. I tell her to hold off because what if it's just their dog? I tell her I'm going to hop the fence to see if I can come across it. I was going to go offer to bury it for my neighbors as they are elderly and maybe they just couldn't take care of it properly. So I hopped the fence. This isn't the first time I've smelled death, but this is the worst smell I have ever smelled. I take one step and that's all I needed. Behind their shed was the corpse of a fully grown man slumped over, gray skin, gray eyes staring back at me. He was wearing a red flannel shirt tucked into his blue jeans and work shoes. Flies coming out of his mouth, his nose and his ears. My guess is he had been there for about a week and in a muggy Georgia heat, I had a T shirt over my face to protect me from the smell. But being that close, I did almost throw up. I ran back to the fence, jumped it, quickly, ran to my house and told my wife to call the police. At first I didn't believe my eyes. I told myself there's no way that I actually just found a body. So while my wife made the call, I went back out to the border of the property and shouted out for him. But I got no response. About 45 minutes later, an officer shows up and I explain what I saw. The officer seemed to not believe me. I wouldn't either. That is until he walks back there himself. I follow along to show him, but before I even get back to the fence, I hear him say, yeah, that's a body. And he calls it in. Two sheriff's cars, three crime scene trucks, an investigator with his car, a coroner van, all show up within the next 10 minutes. I go and give my statement to the investigator and that was that. I talked to my neighbors about everything as well. They noticed the smell but assumed it was a cat or something. They also explained that they were on vacation for a week, which is when the dog hopped the fence and ran away. They had no idea who this person was or how they got there. Aside from the police, I was the only one who saw the body up close. The image is stuck in my head and plagues my dreams. I can't look in my backyard without thinking about him. It's been a couple weeks now now and we still smell him randomly. Sometimes I work with bleach for a living and even at work I smell him. The cops told me that he was a John Doe and an od. It's nice to know my neighbors aren't murderers, but I don't know how to move on. My wife and I are talking about moving early next year, but I honestly feel this is something that will stick with me for the rest of my days. I'd like to preface this story by acknowledging that the truthfulness or reliability of asylum or escaped mental patient stories tends to be questionable. The reason why I'm skeptical of those stories is that large scale closures of asylums began in 1967 through the 1980s and were completely decommissioned by 2015. So I raise my eyebrow whenever someone talks about spooky asylum stories that happened within the last two decades or so. Still, I will be sharing my story as factually as my memory allows and refrain from exaggerating any aspect. I often visited my grandparents home in Traverse City in northern Michigan during the summers with my parents. Traverse City is a beautiful place, produces 75% of the world's cherries and was home to the Traverse City Regional Psychiatric Hospital, which operated from 1885 to 1989. Since the United States Federal government officially deemed the hospital worthy of preservation for its historical significance, the buildings on the hospital grounds were guarded by patrolling security guards. The Traverse City Psychiatric Hospital was massive, including 70 or 80 buildings of various sizes. Some buildings have now been converted into restaurants, gift shops, tourism traps, cafes, etc. But many remain empty and abandoned. Underneath the hospital is a sprawling brick tunnel system which the hospital staff used to safely transport the patients from building to building in the frigid winter temperatures. I'm sure there were instances where the patients underwent cruel treatments or were subjected to the care of horrible doctors. But the Traverse City Psych Hospital had a great reputation. Many teenagers, including myself at the time, were unashamedly fascinated with the hospital and its history. As a result, we would often break into abandoned buildings through unbarred windows or doors with pickable padlocks. While there were a few cases where teens would get caught and charged with breaking and entering, as long as we were stealthy, stuck to our safe entrances, and paid attention to the guards patrol patterns, we could go in and out without worry. I am not advocating for or trying to justify my criminal act of B and E, but breaking into the old hospital was almost a rite of passage for the Traverse City teens. The hospital's interior was terrifying. There was old stained and broken equipment and furniture, crumbling floors and walls, vandalism, strange old building noises, and complete and utter darkness in the tunnels, basements and lower floors. Using flashlights was too risky with the guards patrolling, so we often navigated the hospital by memory and our dimly lit phone screens. As you can imagine, our frightened youthful imaginations ran wild with horror stories, which is pretty ironic, considering we made up most of those stories. Unfortunately, during my last trip inside, I encountered something that terrified me to the point I swore off ever returning. The story takes place around 10pm the moonlight was dim and most patrol guards left left for the day. Clad in black, my friend Jason and I entered through the same window we always used and followed our regular path to one of the tall jutting spires to sit by the windows that overlooked the entire city. There was only one thing different about this venture from the others. A new, faint and unexplainable smoky odor. Not smoky like fire, but something more akin to incense. The smell was so faint we almost thought we were imagining it. But it grew stronger as we got closer to our destination. Rather than taking the stairs that led up to the spire, we followed the smell down to a different hallway until we reached a room with a deep red glow emanating from the doorway. Rather than doing the smart thing by leaving immediately, we couldn't resist the urge to walk closer and investigate. When we finally reached the room, I audibly gasped and felt Jason grip my wrist so hard his nails left marks on my skin. We found a large ring of red votive candles and burning incense circling a drawing of a pentagram with a Sigil of Baphomet in the center of the drawing. Was a dim, dead, bloody bird surrounded by black feathers. Bear in mind that I was raised devoutly Catholic, so seeing this image filled me with a sense of fear stronger and more paralyzing than any ghost sighting ever could. Later on that night, Jason told me I immediately started mumbling prayers, but I personally don't remember doing that. I wouldn't be too terribly surprised that though, while the duration felt infinite, I'm not sure how long we stared at the occult scene before hearing a man's low and ominous voice behind us saying, welcome friends. I promise you that there was absolutely nothing friendly about the way that guy greeted us. Jason and I screamed bloody murder, whipped around and saw two nicely dressed but frazzled looking adult men smiling at us. The man in front of me held something in his hand and while I can't say for sure what it was, I remember thinking that it was a knife at the time, which wouldn't be too crazy of a guess considering they recently sacrificed a bird or what looks like a real bird. Jason and I sprinted past the two and I felt someone's fingers grab the back of my shirt. Thankfully, the occultist's hand didn't have a solid hold on me because I ducked and managed to escape his grip. The men shouted for us to stop running, which we obviously didn't. We heard their footsteps chasing after us for a little while, but thankfully Jason and I had broken into the hospital so many times that running through the unlit rooms, hallways and tunnels was no challenge. When we finally reached and vaulted through our escape window, the occultists were nowhere to be seen or heard. We kept running through the hospital grounds until we reached Jason's car with no concern for the patrol guards. We would have rather gotten caught by the guards than the occultists. I puked twice in the parking lot. Whether the cause was fear sprinting non stop for a mile and a half, or a combination of both, I'm not sure what would have happened if the occultists caught us, but I know for sure they weren't going to crack open a beer and sing Kumbaya by the candlelight. I'm not familiar with cultic practices, ordinances, or satanic rituals, so I'm not sure what the men were trying to do or if they were summoning something. Jason and I never returned to the hospital during that summer or any of the following summers. While we aren't close now that we're adults, I know that horrifying experience will keep us cemented in each other's memories until we die. There is a small town not far from me that has a nice little downtown area with a few blocks of shops and restaurants. I love coming to this area on my own since it has some different kinds of boutiques and restaurants where I would shop, grab some lunch or a drink by myself and just enjoy my own company. The area does not seem sketchy to me, but I always hear my Italian grandma's voice in the back of my head saying, you be careful walking alone. She brings this up almost every time I see her and I don't dismiss it, but I am cautious when I go places, especially when I'm alone. Once I found out there was a little hole in the wall hair salon on Main Street, I made it a point to go there as my go to hair place. The salon was trendy with an antique vibe. It was a narrow old looking hallway with a section to the left of four to five hair stations and then further down was the register counter near a back door to a parking lot area. My appointment was one of their last times available and the girls that worked in the salon sleep seemed very new and took their time with every process. I don't mind them being careful with what they were doing, but they seemed to always have to walk away for a period of time from the chair to go get something from the storage room which was down some stairs and that was a big meeting place to talk together. While I was sitting in the salon I could hear a little commotion going on outside along the street, like there was someone making a case to ask for money from people people walking by. There was something unsettling about this since every now and then I would hear a loud yip or bark noise that seemed to be getting closer to the open door of the salon to the main street. I kept staring at the doorway and the window of the salon as I waited for my girl to come back. The people that walked by seemed to have such puzzled, horrified looks on their faces and almost broke their necks to turn back around to stare at something behind them again which was out of sight. I would hear the odd yip noise every now and then, but it seemed like it tapered off as the main street started to clear out. I brought it to the stylist's attention when they returned by asking what did they think was going on out there. They seemed to brush it off with an uneasy giggle. Oh, it's fine, probably just Fredo with a giggle and a glance at her other co workers. I usually would not feel anxious, but it was visibly getting darker out and the main street was starting to clear out. I had a walk back to my car a while later. I was feeling good, about ready to leave the salon. I tipped my stylist and she told me she would meet me at the back register to pay for my service. I got up, walked the down a short hallway and quickly made a turn to run to the bathroom before I had to pay my bill and go home. As I came out of the nook from the restrooms, I turned to my left to call out to my stylist that I was ready to check out. But when I walked out into the hallway I was met with someone dressed in raggedy brown and black clothes standing in the hallway where I had to leave through. The person. Person stopped in their tracks. The person had a pungent urine smell and not only were they raggedy, but they were wearing something over their head that looked like a mask or a headpiece. The person standing in the hall was wearing a full on botched taxidermied head and neckpiece of a wolf or coyote with wild glass eyes and a snarling smiling mouth. Mouth which looked like it was plastered onto some papier mache helmet which this person was wearing for God knows what reason. We both stopped in our tracks when we saw each other, but the man in the wolf head started to slowly inch towards me in the back door. I have no idea what this man's intentions were, but my heart sank when I saw him walk closer to me and the door. My instincts kicked in and I just ran for the back door. Ran through the parking lot as fast as I could until I found a restaurant that was open. I felt like I was in a dream or a video game. Everything was in slow motion. I thought any second that the man would jump out and grab me, but I just ran. Panic attacks are real. I felt like I could faint for about 15:20 minutes after reaching the restaurant. I requested an Uber back to my parked car and I noticed the hair salon didn't even call me to ask where I was to pay my bill. I called and left a message saying I would mail them a check. Just an answering machine picked up. I try not to let this experience deter me from coming back to this little town on my own. My Italian grandma's voice is louder in my head and it did take me a few months to come back. But I will never be around alone in this town again after the sun starts to go down. When I was 15, I stayed with my dad in Ohio for the the summer. At the time he was living in a finished basement apartment in the home of my much older sister, his daughter from a previous marriage. My sister Mel has a daughter close to my age named Caitlyn, who was 14 at the time. A week or two into my stay, Kaitlin and I were left home to watch her younger sisters, Danny and Jamie, while Mel went into work her night shift at the bar. My dad normally went out to the bar himself for a few hours a night to catch the game and hang out with his friends, and this night was no different. We spent a few hours watching TV with the younger girls after dinner and finally sent them up to bed around 10 o'. Clock. Kaitlin and I were enjoying having the living room to ourselves and listening to the Eminem CD that she had become pretty obsessed with over the last few weeks. Around 10:30 we were heating up something to eat when we heard a knock at the front door. For some context, my sister lived a few miles outside of a really small rural town, a good 30 minutes from the city. Her house was located on the side of an old low traffic highway where the homes had large spaces and small patches of woods in between, still close enough together that you could see your neighbors but probably wouldn't cross paths with them the way you might in a regular suburban neighborhood. The road was dark with no street lights, so any light outside came exclusively from porch lights and nearby windows this time of night. Kaitlin looked at me, clearly surprised to hear the door at all, let alone this late at night. They didn't really know anyone nearby, and everyone that lived there always used the back door that led into the driveway instead of the front that opened directly into the yard. The knock came again, a little harder and more insistent. What if it was the cops or something? I was the oldest, so I straightened up a little, saying, I'll get it in the most confident voice I could manage. Kaitlin followed me to the door, trailing a little behind. I hesitated for a moment before turning the deadbolt, then cautiously turned the handle to open the big wooden door wide enough to peer through the gap and through the screen door on the other side. Hey, I'm trying to get ahold of my friend to come pick me up, but my phone died. It's really hot out here. Could I maybe trouble you for some water or something? Asked the boy standing on my sister's porch. He was about 18 or 19 from the look of him. He had a tall boy but slender build and shaggy light blonde hair that hung into light blue eyes a little as he talked. He was wearing a black T shirt and jeans and had clearly been sweating a bit from the July heat that still hung heavy long after the sun had gone down. I paused, glancing behind me at Caitlin. She nodded and headed back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for the guy while I stayed at the door. My anxiety about this guy was slowly fading, but enough held out that I decided to stay in my current position instead of opening the door anymore. So where are you coming from? I asked, making small talk as I listened to the sounds of Caitlyn running the tap in the next room. The boy jabbed a thumb behind him down the highway leading to a town as he explained that way. My friend is supposed to pick me up, but I decided to just start walking that direction until he comes along. I nodded, feeling Kaitlin's presence come back behind me as she approached with a glass of water for the stranger. She flipped the latch on the screen door and held the water out, this time leaving the screen door unlatched as it slowly creaked closed behind her retreating hand. The boy took the glass and gulped the water down, quickly wiping his mouth off on his arm. As he took the cup down from his mouth, I noticed his face was covered in acne scars. Do you think I could use your phone? He asked next, offering a sheepish smile. Sure, kaitlin piped up before I could answer. I'll go get it. Can I just come in? The boy asked. Something nagged at me as I watched him shuffle a few inches closer to the screen door and start to pull it back. Instinctively, I slid my right foot up next to the bottom edge of the front door where I was still holding it partially closed. I leaned back to allow the door to obscure my face from the boys as I looked at Kaitlin, shaking my head as I whispered, I don't think we should let him in. She gave me an annoyed look, as though not understanding why I took issue with allowing a teenage boy inside. It was exciting and new and I was clearly ruining the only interesting thing to happen to us so far. I raised my eyebrows in a silent plea and she turned back to the door to address the boy. We can't let you in. Sorry, she said, genuinely meaning it. Why not? Are your parents home or something? The boy asked. He didn't sound like the thought made him nervous, and the itchy feeling that had begun to creep through my body grew more persistent. Yeah, my dad is downstairs, I said a little too quickly. I saw a spark hit his eyes as soon as the words left my mouth. He recognized the anxiety in my voice, and I watched the shift in his expression as he saw through my lie. I'll be quick, he insisted. I really need to get a hold of my friend to find out where he is. He should have been here by now, he went on, giving the highway a cursory glance as though he was looking out for his friend's car. I saw him linger on the empty driveway as his eyes came back around to us. But what if he misses you while you're inside? I asked, trying to keep my tone cheerful and conversational. I wedged my foot a little harder into the door as I spoke. Seriously, my dad will kill us if we let you in. A slow smile began to spread across his scarred face. The boy took a slow step forward, silently closing the gap between the screen door and the crack crack that I had left open. We were now only a few inches apart, the threshold of the door the only thing left between us. I slid my free arm behind the door, gripping the opposite side of the door frame to brace myself against it. I cursed myself for not sliding the chain lock across the door before opening it. If I did it now, it might upset him, I thought. He stared me down for second a a second, the smile never leaving his face. He turned to Kaitlin, softening his tone as he said, please, I'll be super quick. The sound of a door opening behind Kaitlin and I made us both jump. My dad came through the back door with a puff of his last bit of cigarette smoke trailing in behind him. What are you girls doing? He asked gruffly. I snapped my head back to the boy at the door with wide eyes. It's my dad, I whispered. Hang on a second. I took advantage of his surprise to quickly shut the door in his face. Dad, there's a guy at the door. He wants to come in and use the phone, I told him. He's a teenager, Grandpa. Like our age. I think I know him from school, kaitlin added. My dad's expression darkened as he he walked to the door and opened it halfway to confront the boy. What seems to be the problem? My dad asked the stranger. I saw the boy shift uncomfortably as he told my dad the situation about his friend picking him up. Well, you better get out there so he doesn't miss you, my dad replied. They were just giving me water, man. Relax, the boy challenged. It's hot out here, you know. I'm going to give you five seconds to get off my porch before I call the cops, my dad growled, a sudden anger apparent in his voice as he snatched the water glass back from the boy at the door. Kaitlin and I looked at each other, confused. He sounded really mad. All of a sudden we both began to get nervous, thinking we'd be in trouble for opening the door. I watched through a gap between my dad's body and the door frame as the boy composed himself, gave him a menacing smile, and slowly backed off the porch, disappearing as he walked back out into the dark yard toward the road. Without another word, my dad slammed the door shut and chain locked it, whirling around to face us. What is the matter with you two? Why would you open the door to a stranger like that when no one's home? How stupid can you be? He yelled angrily. Grandpa, what's the big deal? I told you, I know him from school. Why would you yell at him like that? Kaitlin whined. My dad sighed and sat down at the table. He looked back and forth between us as he gathered himself, calming his voice back down to a normal level while he shakily explained. Girls, he began, I'd be willing to bet you money that there was never any friend coming to get that guy. There's a place a ways down the road where bad people go. It's like a mental health place, but for criminals. He was probably from there. Why would you assume that? Kaitlin asked, clearly upset at the insinuation. I told you, I know him from school. Maybe you do, my dad replied, but there was something off about that kid. He softened his voice as he went on. Didn't you notice he wasn't wearing any shoes? He had hospital socks on. This happened around six years ago when I was 15. We were living in a small town in the mountains of Northern California where my mom grew up and where her family still lives today. My younger cousins, I'll call them Drew and Robbie for the sake of their privacy, were spending the day with us and my mom decided to take us to see the Nut Job 2 in theaters. Drew and I, being several years older than Robbie, weren't totally crazy about seeing a kids movie, but the buttered popcorn was enough to keep us happy. The movie ended around dinner time and my mom offered to get fast food since we were already in town and my aunt was due to pick up my cousins an hour later. Robbie asked to go to Burger King, which wasn't my favorite. The food was alright, but I've always gotten an uncomfortable vibe from the that place. The part of town where the restaurant was located was full of sketchy strip malls that bordered the freeway and it wasn't unusual to find all kinds of colorful characters walking the streets late in the day. Also, that particular Burger King, the only one in our entire town, seemed to be a magnet for strange activity. I remember watching a drunken fist fight on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant one night when I was about 6 6. So after everyone else in the car reluctantly agreed to go to Burger King, off we went. When we arrived a few minutes later, my mom was preparing to turn into the drive thru when a man heading in our direction crossed the sidewalk in front of the driveway. Looking back, there wasn't anything about this guy that seemed unusual or set off any alarm bells. He was average height, but a little on the heavy side. He had dark curly hair covered by a baseball cap and was wearing a tight fitting white T shirt and dark jeans or sweatpants. Naturally, my mom stopped the car and waited for him to cross the street. When he made it safely to the other side and my mom began to pull in, the man suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. As we made the sharp turn into the small parking lot, this guy turned his whole body around to face us and kept his eyes fixed on my side of the car. The most unnerving part about it, the part that I can still see so vividly in my mind, was his eyes. They were wide open, unnaturally open. I swear it looked like something from the torture scene in A Clockwork Orange. Look it up and you'll see what I mean. I have never seen a person open their eyes so wide in my entire life and like watching a car wreck, I couldn't manage to look away. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or my cousins in the backseat, but at that point I was too creeped out to care. Luckily, I wasn't the only one who noticed. My mom didn't seem especially bothered and said something to the effect of relax dude, I'm not gonna run you over. As we passed by him, my cousin Drew, on the other hand, leaned over the backseat to catch another glimpse of the man. Did you see his eyes? He asked. Robbie, also curious, tried to turn around and stand up in his booster seat to see the man again. My mom seemed unbothered, but Drew and I were so put off by this guy that we couldn't let it go. The two of us turned around to look out the back window one more time and check if the man was still watching us. Sure enough, he was still standing in the same spot and staring at our car with his enormous eyes. I don't think he even blinked the whole time. At this point my fight or flight mode was starting to kick in and I wanted nothing more than to get out of there. But then the man did something that sent my heart rocketing up into my throat. He started walking toward us very slowly, still staring dead at us. I really think he made a beeline for our car because the sidewalk on that side of the restaurant curved around behind a small real estate building that was hidden behind cypress trees and I remember seeing this guy very clearly coming straight for us. I jerked my mom's arm and started pointing forward frantically out the back window. Mom, that guy's following us. My mom turned around in disbelief and I can only assume that seeing the man and Drew's worried expression finally made her realize what was going on. Alright, screw this, my mother said as she took the car out of park and followed the drive thru around the backside of the building where the pickup windows were. I felt myself begin to relax a bit and I was incredibly thankful to be leaving the creepy man in the dust. Or so I thought. We turned the corner and to my absolute horror, the old beat up blue pickup truck was stopped at the window in front of us. The drive thru lane wasn't wide enough for two cars to pass through, so we were forced to sit there and wait until the truck either moved or the man suddenly reappeared from behind the blind corner less than 20ft away. My mom flipped the door locks and unbuckled her seatbelt, then began digging around in her purse. I knew what she was looking for. She and I had recently bought cans of pepper spray at my father's insistence in case of an emergency. I began to dig around for mine, but as luck would have, wasn't there. My family and I were big hikers and at a minimum I knew we usually kept a pocket knife in the glove compartment. I pulled open the drawer, but it wasn't there. It finally dawned on me that the only thing that could stop this man from getting to us, if that was his intention, was a glass window. Now this wasn't my proudest moment, but I kind of started having a freakout. Anyone who has ever felt truly scared or endangered knows the feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins. Sometimes that fear gets the better of you and you can't stop the emotions from spilling out. As I looked between the blue truck still parked in front of us and the back window of the car, I just remember saying softly, I'm so scared. It wasn't panicked or tearful, it was just like my mouth said, the first thing my brain was thinking My mother whipped around and very angrily told me, lily, stop it. You're scaring Robbie. I'll admit that looking back, I was angry at her for saying that. I know she wanted me to keep a cool head, which is what you should do in situations like this. But it felt like she was telling me I wasn't allowed to feel scared. Besides, I wasn't the only one losing control of myself. Drew reached over, unbuckled Robby's seatbelt, pulled him to his chest, and held onto him tightly to protect him. That should have been more fear inducing than what I said, but Robby actually seemed more curious than scared. I was glad that he was young enough to not know exactly what was happening. All in all, he handled it better than us teenagers. It honestly felt like hours just waiting for that stupid truck in front of us to move. I started getting really angry, even though I knew it wasn't the driver's fault. But it was a horrible time for the people inside the restaurant to be moving so slowly. Just then, my worst fear was realized. The man appeared from around the side of the building. I felt completely hopeless, and I was expecting him to run over and start trying to break into the car at any second. But that didn't happen. That was when I noticed he wasn't staring at us anymore. He was just shuffling very slowly along the sidewalk, looking straight ahead. As the four of us watched him go in tense silence, I started to feel confused. Why wasn't he staring at us anymore? Just minutes before, he was giving us the most unsettling look I had ever seen on a human face. And it looked like he was coming straight for us. What changed? I was starting to think that I had gone crazy. What if I was wrong after all? What if the whole thing was just one big misunderstanding on my part? But as the man climbed the hill to the right of the car, Drew suddenly said, aunt Janet, he's talking to himself. Sure enough, as I looked closer, I could see the man's lips moving as he stared fixedly into the distance. With the car windows closed, I couldn't hear what he was saying. Frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted to get out of there. When the truck in front of us finally pulled forward, my mom hit the gas and drove out of there as quickly as possible. The four of us breathed a sigh of relief as we settled back into our seats and headed to a different restaurant across town. As you can imagine, the weird encounter was the only thing we could talk about for the rest of the night. When my aunt arrived to pick up my cousins. We told her the story. I was surprised, but also grateful that she wasn't upset. Instead, she suggested that the guy was probably on something or had some type of mental disability. Her explanation seemed likely enough, and after about a week, I passed off the incident as just that, just another unhinged tweaker ruining our once safe, amicable small town. I had mostly put the issue to the back of my mind, and until a few weeks later when my mom brought it up again. One afternoon, as we were talking in the living room, she started telling me that she read an article online about a woman and her family who were possibly followed by traffickers in Oakland. I don't remember the whole story, but to summarize, the woman, her husband, and their infant daughter were leaving a football game in Oakland when a man started following, following them. The woman noticed that the man was talking to himself, and she saw that he was wearing an earpiece. As they got to the car, her husband went to confront the man. While she and her child got safely inside and locked the doors, a car that had been idling nearby suddenly pulled up. The man hopped inside and it tore away. The article warned that human traffickers will sometimes select vulnerable targets, like women going places with their children and communicate with a waiting vehicle nearby through an earpiece. Once in position, the men in the car will jump out and snatch the woman, her child, or both, and they will likely never be seen again. My mom suggested that maybe the man was wearing an earpiece and. And by the way he was looking at us, following the car and talking to himself, he could have been talking to someone in a car waiting nearby. After all, he was wearing a baseball cap and his hair covered his ears. There was no way to tell if he was wearing one. Now, I never heard of any instances of human trafficking in my hometown, so I brushed it off as a wild theory. But the mere suggestion was enough to keep the memory of the incident from leaving my mind. To this day, I still have no idea what the man's true intentions were. I only remember the gut wrenching feeling I got when he stared at us with those unnaturally large eyes. Was the guy just another addict? Was he, in fact secretly communicating with someone waiting nearby? Was he just angry because he thought we were going to hit him with our car? I just can't seem to explain it, no matter how hard I try, and I know that I'll never get an answer. However, if the man was truly following us, I shudder to think about what could have happened if we had stopped at the menu board or had gotten out of the car and gone into the restaurant. Either way, the incident has taught me to always be aware of my surroundings, trust my instincts, try to keep calm when I feel in danger, and never go anywhere alone without my pocket knife and pepper spray. In America, every 40 seconds a child goes missing or has been abducted. The FBI's National Crime Information center, the NCIC reports that around 400,000 children go missing each year and on the International center for Unidentified and Missing Persons DOE network you can scroll through their Missing People index. Millions of people have never been found and millions more more bodies remain unidentified. There is one missing girl that people are still searching for today. Her case is still unsolved and but for a few strange coincidences, she is likely to have been forgotten along with so many others. However, with this case, it seems that the young girl might have been trying to escape and could even have been freed if her plead had been recognized for what they were. This is the story of Anthonette Cadito and what happened to her. Anthonette Christine Caedito was born Christmas Day in 1976 to Penny Caedito and Anthony Montoya in Gallup, New Mexico. Anthonette's parents got divorced when she was still a child and she, along with two sisters, Senaida and Wendy, went to live with their mother, Penny. Anthonette was described by those who knew her as being very smart, studious and that she acted older than her age. She was said to have a caring heart and wanted to help others who may need help, including caring for her two younger sisters. Anthonette was a charming child with brown hair and brown eyes and the nickname Squirrel. However, the settled family family life she and her sisters enjoyed was suddenly shattered on the evening of April 5, 1986. That night, a babysitter had been hired to look after her girls while their mom went with her friends to a bar. Anthonette's mother returned around midnight and sent the babysitter home. Penny then sent two of the girls to bed but chose to stay up herself, chatting with her oldest daughter until 3:3am Then the Caeadito family went to bed for the night. At 7am the following morning, Penny went to wake the girls up to get ready to attend Bible school. But something was wrong. Anthonette was not in her bed. Penny searched the entire house and could not find Anthonette. Penny started to head outside to see if her daughter was out or at a neighbor's house. She noticed something strange. However, Penny noticed the front door was not locked and the screen door was also unlocked. The door to the Caedito home had a screen door that had to be opened if someone wanted to knock on the front door. Penny was a bit confused because she knew she locked both doors that night, but headed outside to search for her missing girl. The whole neighborhood then joined the search for Anthonette, but she was just gone. This was when Penny called the police to report her missing daughter. Unfortunately, the police said that she hadn't been missing long enough to warrant a police report, and Penny needed to wait long enough to confirm that she was truly missing. Senaida mentioned that someone knocked on their door and Anthonette had gone to see who it was. That was the last she knew of Anthonette's whereabouts. The police considered the case an abduction and called the FBI to help them search. Anthonette's mom was given two polygraph tests and is reported to have failed the second test taken by the FBI. Statistically, children are often abducted by someone they know and trust. Yet after questioning the whole family, none knew any information that would help find Anthonette. A neighbor told police she saw a brown truck outside their home around 6:30am but it was typical for many people to come out of the Caeaditos home, and they didn't think anything of it. With no evidence to go on, and despite the best efforts of law enforcement and the neighbors, the case went cold. That that was until one year after she went missing, a call came through to 911. The 911 operator heard a young girl's voice on the phone which said, I am Anthonette Cadito and I'm in Albuquerque. The 911 operator asked where she was in Albuquerque, but the voice never got to answer. A man was heard in the background asking, who said you could use the phone? And terrified screaming was heard before the line abruptly disconnected. The 42nd long call was too short for police to trace it, but Penny insisted it was her daughter's voice because she said she could recognize the screams and how she pronounced her last name. However, the girl on the phone said she was in Albuquerque, but she couldn't have been. If she had dialed 911 in Albuquerque, she would have been connected to the 911 operator in Albuquerque, not the operator in Gallup. Was it a hoax or was it a clue? Did Anthonet believe she was in Albuquerque when in reality she had been nearby this whole time? Again, the case went cold until 1991, six years after Anthonette had gone missing. Then in Carson City, Nevada. An unkempt couple and a teenage girl stopped to eat at a restaurant. The waitress said that the girl kept pushing her fork off the table when the waitress was near. And would squeeze the waitress's hand every time she put the fork back. The waitress found a napkin under the girl's plate. With Help me and call police written on it. But by the time the napkin was found, the girl was gone. When the waitress was questioned, she noted that the girl resembled Anthonette. Could this be the second time Anthonette had tried to escape her captors? Terrifyingly, they would have held her against her will for years. By this point. And after this last contact, she was never heard from again. However, the clues were mounting. Five years after Anthonette went missing, her sister Wendy said she knew something about the night her sister was taken. Wendy, now 10 years old, told police there was a knock on the door. And Antonette, followed by Wendy, went to the door to see who was there. Wendy said that Anthonette asked, who's there? And that she heard someone outside say, Uncle Joe. She saw Anthonette open the door only to be snatched by two men. She told police that Anthonette was carried into a brown van. With the girl kicking and screaming. It had been a brown van that the neighbor had seen outside the house on the night of the kidnapping. When asked why, she went back to bed after that and did not tell the police. At the beginning, Wendy told the officers that she was scared. And that she would get in trouble if she said anything. Wendy thought that the police or her mom would not believe her because she was a little kid. The girls did have an uncle named Joe who was questioned. But he had an alibi and a witness who was with him the whole night. It was certain that he did not take Anthonet. Anthonette wouldn't have opened the door or answered unless it was someone she knew or thought she knew. The abductors may have known enough about the family to know that there was a real Uncle Joe. Aside from the two strange attempts to make contact, there was nothing to go on. In the years since Anthonette's disappearance, however, there have been many theories as to what happened to her. One such theory is that a member of her own family abducted Anthonette. Her mother and sister said that she would never open the door unless it was someone she trusted. All family members were questioned, but were ruled out by the police and the FBI. It is also possible that Penny knew more about that night than she said. The failed Palace Polygraph is always mentioned. The police and people familiar with the case strongly believe that Penny knew what happened to her daughter. Penny Cadido died in 1999, however, and whatever she knew was taken with her to the grave. Perhaps Wendy lied when she was 10 years old. Many web sleuths believe that if Wendy saw her sister get kidnapped, she would not have gone back to bed. A five year old child would have said something, not hide it. If Anthonette were carried from the house screaming and fighting her sisters, or at least her mother would have woken up. The police based their investigation on what Wendy said after she came forward. It is also possible that a stranger abducted Anthonette, plucking her out of the night. Joe is a common name and when a child asks who is there, saying uncle would make her open the door. People believe the kidnappers made up a name on the spot, not knowing the girls had an Uncle Joe. The chance that a kidnapper would use a name that Anthonette recognized is unlikely. Finally, there is the theory that Anthonette was taken because some someone in the Caeadito family was in the drug trade. It was believed that she was either killed as a threat to the family or she was sold to someone who bought the girl for trafficking. However, there is no proof that anyone in the Caeadito family was involved in the drug trade. Anthonette's story is known by millions thanks to her story being featured in an episode of the show unsolved mysteries in 1992. The FBI has however, closed her case because she was likely dead. The Gallup Police Department has left the case open and active, but investigators must be left to rue what could have happened if those two strange attempts to contact authorities had been acted upon. This event happened in early 2022. My boyfriend and I had gone out of town for a weekend to attend a Comic Con about five hours away. I was very excited as I was planning on attending my first meet and greet as well as just being out of town and just exploring a city that we have never been to before. The excitement however, would soon turn sour. After the five hour drive and a bit of exploring we were dead tired. We thought it best to go and check into our hotel. We had a lot of things to carry in as we didn't want to leave our purchases in the car to tempt a thief. So we had to take two trips from the car to our room. Once we got checked in and was given the room number and key, we started on the journey to find our room. We ended up being assigned to a room at the Other side of the building. Walking down the hall to drop the first load of things off in our room, we passed a room very close to ours that smelled horrible. We had looked at each other with disgusted looks on our faces. It nearly smelled like something had died. But we thought nothing more of it until we went into our room, dropped our things off and came back out to go back outside again. This room was fairly close to ours, only about four doors down, so we didn't have to go very far before we started to hear screaming. The voice sounded young, like a kid. At first we thought it was just maybe an unruly kid throwing a fit. But then we began to understand the words being shrieked. Get away from me. Okay. This amped up the worry scale quite a bit. It could still be a kid throwing a fit right then. The blood curdling scream. The terrible, awful scream that still sends chills through my body to this day. The scream that stopped both of us in our tracks right outside of their door. We looked at each other, terror groaning, gripping us. After hearing so many horror stories about trafficking, I automatically thought the worst. At that moment, we didn't quite know what to do. Knock on the door and risk getting hurt, call the police, or just alert the front desk. My boyfriend automatically cut down the first idea. There was no way he would put me in danger like that or let me put myself in that scenario. We had also left our phones in our room. Stupid move, I know. But we were just going to the car and coming right back. So we were stuck with the third option, alerting the front desk. Now, normally I have bad anxiety and can barely talk to strangers, but I went straight to the front desk manager while my boyfriend got the rest of our things from the car. I let her know everything we noticed, everything we heard, and how concerned we were. She asked what room number this was. When I told her the number, she seemed to hesitate. I could tell she was about to say something that was going to further my unease. I was right. She told me that it was the same people that had been staying there for quite a while, almost a month. They claimed it was because their house was being repaired or something to that effect, but there were obviously doubts about this. She also said that no housekeeping had been in there to clean because they were always in there and had the do not disturb sign up, not wanting anyone to go inside. What's more disturbing is that I was not the only one to come to the hotel staff with complaints and concerns about these patrons. There had been complaints about the smells coming from the room, as well as what other patrons had described as children throwing fits or being unruly. Now she was having second thoughts on these reports. At this point, my boyfriend had re entered the lobby with the rest of our things and was eager to get back to our room. I went with him, but not before asking the manager what we should do. She could not give me an answer, but promised that she would do a welfare check on the room. I was in no way comforted by this, and when we got back to our respective room, I began to cry with overwhelming dread. That child could just be throwing a tantrum, of course, but what if it was much worse than that? What if the child was actually being hurt and I wasn't doing anything to help them? My boyfriend saw that this was bothering me and suggested that we go ahead and call the police if it would make me feel better. I was torn. I wanted to, but I didn't know if I had the right to do that as I was not on my own property. Leave it to me, the resident overthinker, to think of hotel policies at a time like that. As I was debating with myself, we suddenly heard sirens coming down the road and they seemed to stop right in front of the hotel. We waited for a time, thinking that they had just passed the hotel before my boyfriend went to the lobby to ask about calling the police. While he was gone, I rang my mom and told her what was going on. I didn't want to be alone and I knew that she would calm me down. After a few minutes of talking with her, my boyfriend came back to the room, an astonished look on his face. I put the phone down but kept the call going so my mom could hear what was going on. He explained that as soon as he asked the front desk manager about calling the police, she informed him that the cops had indeed stopped at the hotel concerning the very same room. I reckoned that my concern led her to call the police herself. They went to the room and knocked on the door, announcing themselves and requesting to be let in. That's when the mother of the two children. Yes, there was another child mixed up in this mess. An infant to top it all off, tried to make a break for it and evade capture, completely abandoning the kids. They immediately caught and arrested her along with her partner. They also took the children somewhere safe and out of harm's way. How all of this happened was without us hearing a peep, I will never know. All I knew in that moment was sweet relief knowing that the children were safe. It turns out that the town we were in was inundated with child trafficking cases at the time. Unbeknownst to us, we were just there for a comicon. Who would have guessed we would also influence a trafficking bust as well. I began cleaning houses after I had my first son. He was a year old. And I decided I would like to have a job where I could not only get some good exercise, but bring in a little extra cash to help my husband out. My first job I got was for a family not too far from my house. They had two younger daughters aged four and seven and they kept a pretty clean home, really nice family, very good at communicating. They were always quick to let me know when and if they needed me to cancel or not. I never had an issue with not knowing what I was going into. Whenever I showed up, I always let myself in with the door code whether they were home or not. And as soon as I would walk in, I would get right to work. Now the wife of the homeowner was a very neat woman. She really just hired me because she needed a little extra help due to a demanding job. But anytime I came, the house was already pre cleaned for me, meaning the dishes were done, the kitchen was wiped down, clothes were picked up, she made sure her girls cleaned their room so it was easier for me to vacuum and dust. The house was never in a state of disgustingness or uncleanliness. Well, the other day I showed up at my usual time, on my usual day, letting myself into the house. And it was the complete opposite sight from what I had been seeing for the past year and a half. There were clothes strewn about everywhere. I'm not just talking about in the bedrooms where you would expect them, but all over the living room, all over the hallways. There were toys all about and yes, that's expected with kids, but at the same time they were in the most bizarre places, like by the dishwasher, under the parents work desks. There was also a big pile of toys on the top of the master bed. Two of the biggest red flags I saw though were plates of food cut up. Food and tea in a kettle getting moldy on the counter. There were fruit and house flies everywhere. So clearly this food had been getting moldy for a while. But I figured maybe they had left in a hurry or something. I had a feeling that they might have been out of town because usually one or both were home for the most part when I came. But what kind of made me confused was that both of their cars were in the garage at the same time, though they could have gotten an Uber or a ride from a friend if they were going somewhere. So I brushed that off. I began my cleaning. Scrubbing out the dishes, which I have never had to do before on this job. Getting rid of all the moldy food, taking the trash out so it was out of the house. Vacuuming as many spiderwebs and flies as I could because they seemed to be everywhere. I cleaned up all the clothes. I put them in their respective rooms and hampers, if their hampers weren't already full. But then I headed to one of their bathrooms, and this is where I was even more in shock. There were flies everywhere. A majority of them were dead, but some of them were still flying around the bathroom. There were dead flies, dead fruit flies, some mosquitoes. Mosquitoes as well. I checked the window. It wasn't even open. There were no openings. The bathroom was sealed. The door had been closed when I got there. So I went along with my cleaning, feeling very unnerved at this point, but figuring if I'm there, I might as well just continue trying not to allow myself to think this was a crime scene or something. My imagination will occasionally get ahead of me at times. I proceeded to vacuum up all the fly carcasses. I cleaned off all the counters, the bathtub, the toilet, the surrounding area, and tried to vacuum up as much as I could. Usually at the end of all my cleanings, I would text the homeowner and let them know that I was done. And he would follow that up with a thank you and would send my payment through Venmo. But when I was finished, I felt really uncomfortable. So I called him to ask if they were maybe out of town or if, you know, something happened, God forbid, and if there was anything I could do to help. Because clearly the state of their house was not typical. But nobody answered the phone. I called his wife, but she didn't answer either. So I just sent him a text message message saying, I'm all done. See you in another two weeks. I haven't gotten paid or gotten a reply in three days, which is not like them at all. So I'm at this point now where I don't know what to do. Should I report this to the police? Should I ask them to give a welfare check or something? Because I'm so confused. I really hope not. Nothing bad happened to them. Back in 2011, one of my cousins from Guatemala had a horrific car accident. Doctors told her parents to prepare for a funeral. But be it a miracle or my cousin's fighting spirit, she lived elated. I Booked a flight to visit her. My uncle lives in this private community. He purchased two pieces of land and built houses. During that time, the housing development in that area wasn't prominent, so neighbors were spread out. About 65 yards behind his main house, there's a forested area that is untouched. One evening, my family and I were jumping from topic to topic, having a great time. Now that my cousin was back home. I'm not sure who brought it up, but we started discussing about the paranormal during that time. I was always skeptical about ghosts, spirits, etc. Meanwhile, my family was the opposite. They started to talk about their experiences throughout the years. More recently, they believed they were seeing my grandpa who had passed away. They would see shadows peeking around corners. One day, my uncle looked towards the staircase and saw a shadow outlining what looked to be a man with a hat. My grandfather always wore his hats, even if he was at home. One of the nights I slept in my cousin's room, I heard what sounded like a dog walk walking around the room. I brought it up in the morning, and apparently that's something that has happened to my cousin as well. My uncle's other house was also pretty active with unexplained things. For example, his back door was banging so aggressively it broke the glass. Mind you, he has walls that are about 12ft tall with barbed wire. There was no one there. Continuing from our conversations, that same evening, my uncle took me for a stroll around the neighborhood. He would point at different houses and tell me what that particular neighbor's paranormal experiences were. Apparently, the land they lived on was active with the paranormal. The sun had already set, and the only light source we had were from sporadic light posts, which was sufficient enough to see. As we're nearing back to his main house, something caught my attention. About 55 yards behind his house is another neighbor. They had two dogs that were barking from the rooftop. And yes, you heard that right? It's common in Guatemala to have dogs on their flat rooftops. Anyway, there was someone or something in front of their house next to a light post. Normally, it wouldn't be a big deal, dogs barking at someone or noise. It's in their nature. But there was something off. At first glance, I thought it was possibly an older lady because it seemed like her back was rounded and she was wearing what looked almost like a cloak. It's uncommon to see an older woman by herself in the evenings. So I pointed it out to my uncle. He glanced over and instantly got goosebumps and told me, me, that's not a person that's a spirit. And with that, he went inside his house. Curious and still being a skeptic, I lingered outside studying this person or thing or whatever it was. Even though it was right next to the light post, I could not make out any details. It was just this bulky black entity. Then it started to move very slightly to its left. It wasn't one swift motion, almost like gliding. Then it started to turn almost translucent. I rubbed my eyes, thinking maybe I stared for too long and was causing irritation. I focused my gaze back at this thing and it was still translucent. It started moving again in that slow gliding rhythm. Suddenly this thing turned back into a solid black shape and took quick, long, abnormal strides towards the forest. With that, I immediately went inside the house and told my family what I had seen. I've always been more logical and analytical to anything considered paranormal. I guess it's an easier approach as accepting some something that can't be explained is terrifying to me, but I just can't say exactly what this was because I've never seen anything like it. I have heard many stories about skinwalkers and kind of juggled with that idea. The weird thing is that I almost feel attached to whatever I saw. I don't want to sound crazy, but it's like I can always feel it at a distance. It's strange to describe, but it feels like its energy still lingers around me. I have had many more strange encounters that probably deserve their own separate stories. This is the first time I have posted a story anywhere. Finally, after more than a decade later, I'm open to getting input on what I saw that evening to hopefully put my mind at ease.