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- [00:05]
A
This true scary wordplay story occurred in the autumn of 2012 in Glasgow, Scotland. The light was fading as it was the evening and Glasgow gets very cold at this time of the year, so there is a bitter chill in the air. At around 6pm my two friends Neelam and Aleda, who were both in their early 20s at the time, worked as beauticians in a beauty salon in the West End area of the city and were just closing up for the evening when a group of three fairly large men wearing ski masks aggressively pushed the door open and then barged into the salon storefront. They were carrying blue plastic shopping bags that were bulging. The men then closed the large front shutter down and had Neelam and Aleda trapped in the store. Both of my friends were a bit stunned and they didn't know what to say or do. The men began screaming and asking where the female owner of the salon was, to which they both shakily replied that they didn't know, which was true, as the owner was hardly ever there in person. The men had very thick Glaswegian accents and it seemed as though they were white. However, the girls were not certain about this. Although both of the girls were scared, they thought the men seemed fairly amateurish and thought they would just leave after realizing that the owner wasn't there. Well, things took a much sinister turn, however, when suddenly the three men pulled out hammers and silver duct tape. The men then marched Neelam and Aleda to the back area of the salon where they bound their hands and feet and wrapped their mouths up with the duct tape. They were forced to sit down in chairs with wheels on them and were taped to the chairs. The thugs then debated on what to do next, waiting on the off chance that the owner would come in or leave. Now. Of course, the girls were obviously petrified at this point and were hoping they'd just leave. They Neland was especially scared as she actually had a cold at the time and was really struggling with the tape that was now sealing her mouth. Her glasses also slid off her face as she was struggling, so she was now also struggling to see. She tried to tell the men if they could take the tape off her mouth because of her cold, but she was only able to mumble as her mouth was taped very tightly. One of the men yelled at her to shut up. She tried her best to not cry as that would have just made things even worse for her. Aeda, on the other hand, was still very shocked by everything that was happening, but was mainly concerned for Neelam and was just Praying that the thugs would go away. She also tried to speak, but to no avail. By this point, Neelim was breathing very loudly and erratically through her nose. Thankfully, after a few minutes of looking at the girls and around the salon, they decided to just exit the salon's front door, but not before smashing the cash register and some mirrors with their hammers. They also threw some of the salon's equipment across the store. Surprisingly, the men didn't actually steal anything from the store. They then left the salon and they left Neelam and Aleda taped up and gagged out back. Neelam's hard breathing popped the duct tape covering her mouth in and out. The girls struggled for quite a while to free themselves from the tape, but Naleeda moved her chair towards some hairdressing equipment and eventually managed to use a pair of scissors to free her hands and feet and then removed the duct tape from her and Neelam's mouths, which was very painful as the tape pulled out some of their long dark hair. As soon as Neelam was freed, they called the police. The police finally arrived and gave the girls some blankets and took them to ask questions. The whole incident only realistically lasted for about 20 minutes, although of course it felt much longer. Thankfully, the girls were not hurt. However, they were both very shaken up for a long time after this, and the men were never caught. As far as they were aware. Both Neelam and Aleda attended identify lineups. However, they could never say if any of the men they saw were any of the thugs because the trio had ski masks on. Both Neelam and Aleda are of South Asian Pakistani ancestry and Aleda did think. One of the men did say something in Urdu at one point, but was not 100% sure. Both of my friends quit the salon immediately following this incident and they got jobs elsewhere. Both are doing extremely well now and they've put this awful incident behind them. They never did find out what those men wanted with the owner and they're really grateful she wasn't there as things could have been so much worse. They of course had their own suspicions about the owner after this horrible incident, but they were both just thankful to be okay and away from that salon forever. And thankfully, they're now both doing very well and happy in their own lives. This happened when I was in high school. I must have been a junior or senior at the time. We had just moved to a different city away from family. The area and neighborhood itself wasn't bad, but this part of town really had a reputation for having the most crime, especially catalytic Converter thefts Think of a city that's divided into north and south. We lived in the south side of the city. Some background information that's important. My dad would regularly leave the country for weeks or months at a time and go stay in his country of origin to get away from the stress of the city life. So he was usually always gone, which meant that it was just my mom, my brother and I. My brother would always go out and was really hardly ever home, so it would mostly just be me and my mom home. I should add that I'm also a female. One thing to note is that my brother has always had this habit of buying trucks, modifying them and then eventually selling them once he got bored of them. When this story happened he had a lifted white Chevy Silverado and another lifted truck. I should also mention that the layout of my house is important in this story. The houses in this neighborhood all have the same base layout but in different variations. My house is basically shaped like a lowercase inn with our front door being down this semi long hall and our rooms being at the front of the house. Next to our house is a long driveway where half is behind a gate that locks from the inside while the rest of our driveway is exposed. The part of the driveway that is behind the gate is right next to my parents room. My parents have two windows in the corner of their rooms, one looking out into the street and while looking out to the driveway behind the gate. Our house had a partial chain link fence that only covered the front yard but didn't actually enclose it, which meant people could just walk right in through my driveway and across the front yard to get to our house. My dad thought it was pointless to add a proper fence all around the yard since he wanted the yard to also be used as parking and adding a driveway gate to the front was too much work as it would require us to get out of our cars to open and close it. Anyway, sorry for the long background information, but I thought it was important to add. Now back to the story. This happened when my dad was out of the country so it was just me and my mom at home since my brother went out for that evening. My brother had left in his other truck so the white Chevy was behind the driveway gate. My mom and I were in our own rooms just scrolling through our phones. I was on my phone just doom scrolling when I saw that my mom was calling me. My parents room is right next to mine so I thought it was odd that she was calling me instead of just coming over to My room, I answered, and my mom then told me in a quiet voice to come to her room because she had heard a guy talking outside her window and could see him outside. I got up and walked into her room, but I didn't see the guy outside her window. She told me that he had left on a bike, but that she had heard him talking to himself and peering into the driveway where my brother kept his truck. She wasn't sure if he was just some random guy that was confused and wandering into people's houses while talking to himself, or if this was someone that wanted to steal my brother's truck and was communicating with someone else that we couldn't see. I ended up going back to my room since it looked like the guy had left. Maybe about 10 minutes later, my mom lets me know that the guy is back and that he's talking to himself or someone else, but can't make out what he's saying. I go into her room and that's when I see the silhouette of the guy she's talking about. I can't really make out what he's saying, but in the time I'm trying to process who this guy is and what he's saying, he walks off. It's at this point that my mom calls my brother and tells him what's going on. My brother then comes home and my mom tells him the whole story of the weird dude outside in the driveway. Since my brother came home, I thought he was planning on staying home for the whole night since it's just my mom and I alone. Nope. My brother just decides to give me a quick lesson on how to use a pistol in case I need to use it. Then he leaves again. Now, luckily, the guy didn't come back after that and nothing happened for the rest of the night. We didn't call the police because even though he was technically in our driveway trespassing, we didn't hear him breaking in and we just assumed he was just some guy on drugs that was just wandering around on his bike and talking to himself. Though I wouldn't be surprised if he was there to steal from the truck. I'm not sure if my brother coming home scared him or what, but either way, I'm really glad nothing else happened. Every cop sees something that they'll never forget, something that will stick with them for the rest of their life. What I'm about to describe to you is that story for me. This is the most disturbing thing I've ever witnessed. When I turned 21, I joined the police force in A remote town that I won't name. The department needed new officers and I was a young father who needed the money. So the timing was perfect. Because I was a rookie, they assigned me to the night shift. It ran from 6 at night to 6 in the morning. The guys at the gas station sometimes teased me about my hours, saying that I always work the crummiest shifts. I actually didn't mind them. I've always been a night owl. The guys even called me Nighthawk. And honestly, I kind of like that. Besides busting people for speeding and pulling over the occasional drunk, I spent most nights sitting back listening to podcasts. In a weird way, it was kind of relaxing. After a year in the department, something happened one night that changed everything. A severe thunderstorm rolled into town and caused major power outages. Torrential downpour flooded most of the major roads. To be in the best position possible when accident reports came in, I parked my cruiser in a parking lot in the middle of town. At 2am, our dispatcher Claire radioed in. She reported that someone who sounded like an adult male claimed to have been kidnapped. They told her they were held captive inside someone's home. Then the call ended when she redialed, the caller didn't answer. My cruiser had a built in computer display that showed all the call details based on the address. I was about 10 minutes away, so I was probably the closest officer. I radioed in and told her I'd respond. I also requested backup. Another new officer named Chris chimed in and said he'd be at the location in five. Claire clicked on her radio button, hesitated for a few seconds over the static. Then she said that the callers sounded like they were altering their voice in some way, possibly through digital means to make themselves sound like a child. She used the specific phrase like a young girl. She concluded that officers should proceed with extreme caution. All of us were pretty close to the station, so we really felt nervous for one another during high risk cases like these. I radioed back and said 104 and then drove to the scene. When I turned into the neighborhood, I saw that every single street lamp was out. The entire block had lost power. That meant it would have low visibility into the home we were investigating, which put us in even greater danger. I followed my GPS to the end of the street where the house was and saw that Chris had already beaten me. His cruiser was idling in front of the house. I pulled up next to him and rolled down my window. Chris then commented on the home's poor condition. I glanced ahead, taking it in for Myself. The grass was knee high. Overgrown bushes blocked out the windows. The roof was dented in several areas and had a ton of missing shingles. It looked completely abandoned. This sent off alarm bells in my head. You can gather a lot about someone's mental state by how they treat their living space. I told Chris I'd take the lead. We both stepped out of our cruisers into the pouring rain, opened our umbrellas, and followed a waterlogged path up to the door. Chris clicked on his flashlight. Whenever a second officer like Chris is present during an investigation, their entire job is to protect the leading officer by monitoring the suspect's body language. If the suspect makes a move on the cop that's interrogating them, they neutralize the threat. Chris made the perfect backup because he was both observant and calm under pressure. This allowed me to focus solely on the suspect's story and if I was hearing the truth. When we reached the door, I rang the bell. Then we stood there, listening for movement inside. Rain pounded against our backs. After a few seconds, footsteps shuffled up to the door. Then they paused. Whoever was on the other side stood completely still, just waiting. A strange feeling came over me that we were being watched. Slowly, my gaze drifted over to the peephole. As soon as I made eye contact, a distorted shape moved back, like whoever was watching us had pulled their head away. If you're in there, I said, we'd like to ask you a few questions. Open up, please. They froze again, as if they were thinking about what to do next. Then the lock started turning. The door creaked open, but only by a foot. From the darkness, a man peeked out of the crack. It looked like he was in his early 30s. He was overweight, balding, and wore thick brimmed glasses. I took a single look into his eyes and sensed that he was hiding something. I informed him that we'd received a call from his address of someone claiming to have been kidnapped. The man acted confused. He apologized and told us it must have been a pocket dial. I asked him if it was a pocket dial. Then how could he explain the voice on the phone call? For a split second, the man averted his gaze, then said that he didn't know anything about a voice. I asked him if there was anyone else in the house, and he said he lived alone. Then I told him that for safety reasons, we needed to have a look inside. Not without a warrant, he said. These days a warrant can be obtained in minutes. I went back to my cruiser, called dispatch and requested communication with the on call magistrate. Five minutes later, Claire came back on the radio and told me the judge approved a telephonic warrant and emailed it. We were clear to enter. I showed the warrant to the man. He reluctantly pulled the door open, and I could see that his hands were visibly shaking. I clicked on my own flashlight and stepped inside. A putrid smell immediately hit me. I scanned around to find the source and saw a hallway straight ahead and a room directly to my right. I shined my light into the room and saw what looked like a living room. It was absolutely disgusting. Piles of clothes and stacks of dirty dishes were spread all across the carpet. Cockroaches crawled all over them. A couch that looked like it was pulled off the side of the road sat at an angle against the wall. This man obviously used this room as his living space. I'd seen these sorts of living conditions in drug cases before. When I turned to look back at the man, he shifted uncomfortably. I made a mental note to check for paraphernalia once I'd confirmed the house was safe. Then I stepped toward the hallway. My foot struck something. I looked down. In the beam of my flashlight. I saw a pink Barbie doll playhouse that I knew I'd seen before. I thought about it, and I realized I'd bought this exact set for my daughter just last year for Christmas. I asked the man if he had kids. He said no, but explained to us that sometimes his nieces came over, so he kept a few toys around for them. Chris and I exchanged a look. No mother in their right mind would allow children into this environment. I told him that this was his last chance to tell me if anyone else was in the house. He assured me there wasn't. I started down the hallway and the man followed, saying that nothing was down there. Chris yanked him back by his arm and ordered him to stay put. The hallway had an open room on either side and a closed door at the end, which was probably the basement. I peeked inside the first bedroom. Scanning from left to right, I saw more children's toys and even items like diapers scattered across the floor. In the corner, the dark shape of a person was hunched over. I drew my weapon only to realize that it was a doll sagging its head down in a rocking chair. The shock of that visual made my heart pound. I leaned against the door frame and steadied my breathing. Chris asked me what I had seen. Before I could respond, I had started studying the doll. It was the largest one I'd ever seen, every bit as big as a person, and the man addressed it in women's Clothing on the bed beside it, ladies blouses, jeans, and lingerie were folded into neat piles. Each pile was separated by a color. Meanwhile, the rest of the house was pigsty. What was happening in this room felt wrong on so many different levels. All clear, I told Chris. I moved further down the hall and glanced into the second bedroom. This one was empty. I reached the final door at the end of the hall when, from behind me, the man called and asked if I'd like to see the upstairs instead. I told him yes, but first I was going to see the basement. The man said again that there was nothing down there. I heard Chris tell the man to stay chill, which meant he was probably trying to follow me down the hall. The closer I moved into this part of the house, the more agitated he became. I reached for the handle, twisted the knob, and pushed the door open. It squealed on its hinges. A set of wooden steps descended into a pitch black room. I shined my light down. I could only see the area that surrounded the landing. It looked equally as messy as the upstairs. From deep inside the room and an area I couldn't see, something rattled. I told Chris that I heard movement. The man responded again, apologizing to me and Chris over and over again. Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I had no choice. The man was lying to us. Someone was down there. I headed down the staircase. Each step creaked under my weight. The rattling noise from inside the room grew louder behind me. The man repeatedly begged us to stop looking around. I neared the landing and swept my flashlight across the stacks of boxes. No one appeared in my line of sight. Across the room, there was another door. The noise was coming from up there. I drew my weapon. I commanded whoever was inside to come out slowly with their hands up. Whoever was inside stopped moving. I shouted the same command a second time. The door remained shut. I crossed the room, sliding between boxes and old furniture that blocked the way. My sights were trained on the door. When I stood within several feet, I paused, listening. Whoever was inside also remained perfectly still. My anxiety ticked up with each second. So many things could go wrong in this situation. I moved to the side of the door frame in case they were armed and tried to fire through the door. I reached for the knob, grabbed on, and twisted. Then I swung the door open. I was still hidden to the side of the frame. If anything besides empty hands emerged, I would have to use deadly force. After several agonizing moments, nothing came. I said a quick prayer and then aimed my weapon right into the room. What I saw, I really can't go into detail on, but basically, this is what happened. A man in his 40s was being held captive in that basement. He was a father of three and a respected member of the community. Months after he went missing, everyone, including his own family, assumed he was dead. After two years in captivity, he finally got the chance to escape earlier in the night. Before we arrived, the homeowner brought the victim's dinner down and made the mistake of leaving his phone behind. The victim managed to activate Siri and call 911. When we arrived on scene, the victim had already been confined in a way that prevented him from calling upstairs or making any kind of substantial noise. Then when I ordered him to come out, he froze in fear. Not because he couldn't obey my command, but because he didn't want me to use lethal force, thinking that he was a threat. Once I opened the door and found him. We arrested the homeowner on the spot and then took the victim to the hospital for immediate treatment. I feel incredibly lucky that no one was harmed and that we could reunite this poor man with his family. But the most disturbing detail, which has haunted me every day since, is how my dispatcher described the voice of the man who made the call. Why was he speaking like a child? The only explanation that really makes sense is that this man was forced to speak in that young tone of a voice for so long that even when he called the station, that's the only way it could communicate. And if he was forced to do that, what else inside that house was he forced to do? These are the questions that keep me up at night. So good, so good. So good.
- [22:12]
B
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- [22:21]
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- [22:27]
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B
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- [22:41]
C
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- [23:10]
A
I live in a managed complex that has two buildings. The main one with the lobby, mail room, amenities, etc. And the secondary one which I currently live in. On Sunday night I had a doordash delivery dropped off. I always tell them they can drop off my orders at the secondary entrance in my building so that I don't have to cross over to the main building, but I don't think they've ever actually read that note. No worries. I read the notifications from doordash and I saw it got delivered to the lobby in the main building around 11pm I made my way over and I noticed my dasher even left a note saying there was a suspicious man in the lobby, that he was worried that he might take my food. I figured he said this because he was waiting until I got there. When I came down there really was a guy sitting there on his phone but carefully watching my food. He saw me approaching and then just said you're here. To which I just responded thanks for waiting. Must be the door dasher. I picked up my order and started to turn around and he also got up, except he had started heading in the direction of the elevators, not the exit. He starts chatting. I actually live in this building. My name is Tom and I live in the building number 205. What's your name? I give him a fake name and cut the conversation short, the pieces coming together in my mind. This wasn't the doordasher, it was the suspicious man pretending to be the doordasher and who had even waited for me to come down as though he made the delivery. To get back to my building, you can either use the elevators in the main building to the fourth floor and transfer to the secondary building, or you can cut across the garage in the main building to the second building. I noticed the key fob in his hand and waited for him to click the elevator and step inside. When I gathered he was taking the elevator and I knew I definitely didn't want to share an elevator with him so that he knew where I lived. I decided I would take the shortcut through the garage. It's a straight line and maybe a two minute walk to the other side. After he stepped in the elevator, I walked through both sets of doors and into the garage, my senses heightened. Halfway through I decided to look behind me to verify I was alone, only to see his body in the doorway. He hadn't taken the elevator. He was following me. I booked it. Heart racing through the garage doors, I started jamming the elevator buttons hoping it would come quickly, but I could hear the elevator car was still on its way down in A split second I tried to think if I would be strong enough to hold down the door with the weight of my body if it came pushing through. But that would mean we would be stuck in this area in the garage, with probably little to no cameras, witnesses or any cell service. I was running out of time. I eyed the stairwell and carrying my food, booked it two steps at a time up two floors. I was now on the fourth floor, which is normally the floor you would transfer on to get to the other building. Although I was now in the secondary building, which is my building. I was worried if he indeed was still following me, he'd know which building I lived in. I needed to go back to the main building. If he was still behind me, I would know for sure he was following me because we just did. A circle from the corner of my eye in the distance, I could see someone taking out their trash from the reflection of the door. At 11pm this was the first person I'd seen and I needed to be next to anyone. I cut through the courtyard, through the conservatory and into the hallway of the fourth floor in the main building. Just as I stopped to catch my breath, he burst through the conservatory doors and caught up to me. Huffing and puffing, he accused me of stealing the door dash, yelling, got in my face and told me I could be evicted and sent to prison. I couldn't look him in the eyes for longer than like 3 seconds. Button. He looked bewildered. At this point, the person taking out their trash to the chute was nowhere to be seen and this man kept coming closer me, backing up and inching closer. I tried talking loudly, hoping if anything were to happen, the residents in the unit behind me could hear. He continued to raise his voice, claiming that the 119 number on the receipt stapled outside of the bag was the real person's apartment number and that I had stolen it from them. Taking A look, number 119 was in fact the order number, not the apartment number. But he was convinced it was someone's apartment unit number for a whole lot of reasons. This logic didn't make any sense, but this implied not that I needed to explain it to him, but I could have been trying to go from the main building, second building, fourth floor, main building, and then second floor to lose him so that we didn't have to share the elevator and he know where I lived. Even if I was taking someone else's order, I wasn't. He was going to follow me to my apartment to verify where I lived and ensure my apartment matched the number on the bag. He was able to catch up to me relatively quickly, considering I was sprinting and out of breath. This means he was deliberately following and chasing me down, which, as a man's circumstances aside, but especially for the rationale of stolen food, I'm not sure why you would ever willingly chase a woman by herself at night, knowing how this would look for him. He was studying my order and receipt because you had to be in close proximity to the receipt to see that the fading ink read 119. It was never about the order because why did he pretend to go on the elevator in the beginning only to chase me across two buildings for an order? He didn't even know what apartment number I was going into, and it definitely dawned on him that up until that point we were the only people around. As I was standing there, him inching near me and poking the receipt, I thought that I had heard someone coming through the hallway in the distance. He clicked the elevator button, continuing his threats, and I didn't even wait for him to finish getting on the elevator. I sprinted through the conservatory, through the courtyard and back to my building, taking the elevator up to my floor. I got to my apartment paralyzed and shaking from what I thought was the end. That night I was so terrified that my breathing got labored and raspy. I don't even have asthma, but I could barely catch my breath for minutes, grasping onto anything I could so that I could feel grounded and not choke from the lack of air. I'll never forget the moment I looked into the garage and saw his body in the door frame. I wrote a long, detailed email to my management with screenshots from the doordash and exact accounts and locations of where everything happened so they could corroborate my account with their camera footage. It's now been four days and I'm awoken every morning by my heart racing, hot flashes and paranoia with every drop of a sound. This is a new kind of anxiety that I've never felt before and my days are clouded with fear of bumping into him in common spaces, how to plan my days with the highest likelihood of avoiding him, and how to strategically order and pick up my meal where I can know I won't have to see him. I don't know if these extreme symptoms, especially the heart racing, are normal after this experience, considering I know a lot of women who have had way more frightening, violent encounters with strangers that involve more than what happened to me that night, but this has really been consuming me for the past few days. I really feel Unsafe in my own building. This is everything that has happened since. The next morning, my management and maintenance, which is two men, came knocking on my door. Of course, I was already pretty frazzled from the events of the night before and although I opened the door the they could see I was visibly shaking. They came to apologize about the events, saying they had seen the footage and that it was scary. I needed to file a police report immediately. The property manager was kind, saying he would sit and call the police with me so that I wouldn't have to do it alone. I asked if they knew this resident and if they were aware. He said they knew who he was and this actually wasn't the first time he had been reported for bothering a resident. My stomach sank. I quickly got ready and met the property manager downstairs outside our building, but away from areas my property manager has been known to see him hanging near and we made the call together. After I gave my account, the property manager chimed in with his accounts of what happened too. I was the fourth or fifth female that he has harassed. He's harassed women in the complex before, but never followed them at night. The property manager has managed multiple properties before, but he's never seen a resident following another resident like this before. He usually finds a woman by herself and kind of hones in on them. He doesn't approach men and he doesn't approach women when they're with men. The people who live on his floor have complained numerous times that he harasses them, making it bothersome for them. He's also been arrested before for harassing a woman, has been sent to the hospital before for his mental health issues. He was most recently booked and released two weeks ago and management wasn't aware he was back. The responder on the other line noticed this was quite severe, so they sent out an officer on the scene to collect an official report. By this point, as we were talking, I learned the resident's full name, birthday, unit number that he lives in and when he moved in. It's been less than half a year, so assuming he has a 12 month lease, he still has a ways to go. The officer asked if I could remember if he had a tool or weapon in his hands, but I said that I couldn't remember, not that I knew. I said there was camera footage so couldn't we check and see if he did. But the officer said even if I couldn't remember and it turns out the perpetrator did in fact have a weapon, I can't go back on my word and say there was a weapon or if I felt threatened. I was stunned. I told the officer, but there's evidence of him following me, a woman, alone, as well as threatening me across two buildings, one of which he had no business being in at 11pm at night. The officer literally asked me if he used the words I will kill you or I will shoot you. I said no, but that he was still threatening me. The officer said, unfortunately that only qualifies as being a nuisance. But but being a nuisance isn't against the lawgrounds for arrest. My heart dropped. On top of that, my property manager said they'd been trying to evict him, but there isn't enough evidence and eviction is a long process. There was nothing they could do. The officer gave me his card with my case number informing me that I should call him if he ever approached me again or if I felt unsafe. I went back to my apartment stunned and just trying to figure out the next steps. I decided not to leave my apartment again out of safety, but ordered additional self defense items including an apartment doorbell camera. Because he had been up close to my receipt bag to know my order number. The receipt also had my name on it. I was worried he would put two and two together and type my name in the directory outside our building and figure out my unit number. I couldn't risk running into him again, so I had to stay locked up until my camera arrived. Given the information I had about him now, full name, birthday, and the fact that he has a prior record related to harassment, I decided to do my own research and find his public records. To my surprise, I learned that he actually has six court cases since 2018 and the most recent court record was from August 2024. His cases have been for stalking, harassment, restraining orders, multiple reissued anti harassment protection orders, domestic violence, and attempting to get him to surrender his firearms, to which he has refused. So he still owns his guns. Different women have attempted to serve him protection orders multiple times, but failed. Either because he's tried to dodge it, never showed up to court, or he's been hard to get a hold of. I just couldn't believe it. This man was able to freely move about common spaces in our complex and management has never mentioned anything to residents nor regarded our safety. Now I knew this was more than just an annoying neighbor, but rather someone who could be dangerous. I was dealing with a man with unresolved mental health issues who may still be in possession of his multiple firearms, who was angry with me. Given his history of professional stalking, I was worried if he saw me too soon again, he would remember our encounter and fixate on me and possibly escalate. A few days passed and I hadn't left my building, but I noted that my camera had arrived. So I was trying to arrange for how I could go into the mail room, which is in the building he lives in and the floor he's on. I asked management for footage of our encounter, and after two days of dragging on the request, it seemed like they were trying to buy time. They finally sent me clips of our encounters in different areas. In one of the videos, you could see that he followed me into the garage a bit after I had already gone in, after he had supposedly pretended to take the elevator and the clip that freaks me out the most. You can see me enter the garage elevator lobby, click the elevator button frantically pace back and forth and try leaning my body against the door before I realize I'm running out of time and run through the stairwell. A few moments later, you see him come in, look at the press elevator button, but no one took it. Then deduce I must have taken the stairwell before following suit. If anything, this showed intent. Oddly enough, the footage when he caught up to me and poked the receipt on my bag was missing, but management sent the footage after I ran back to my building. Anyway, a few days later, around 6pm, I was trying to figure out how to pick up my mail. I have a married friend who lives in his building three floors above and had no idea about any of this. So I asked if she would be comfortable meeting me on the fourth floor of her building, which is where the encounter took place, but where I have to pass in order to go to the mail room in the main lobby. Deep breaths. I got to the end of the hallway, my friend on the phone the whole time, and opened the door to the courtyard. Hyper vigilantly, I looked across the conservatory and saw a man there. I squinted. It couldn't be. It was indeed him standing in the conservatory. He locked eyes with me, started mouthing things, smiling and then yelling. I began shaking uncontrollably, crying, and then quickly ran back into my building. Now he knew for sure I lived in the second building. My friend was in the hallway behind him, so she witnessed everything as he was yelling and directed at me. She wasn't with her husband either, but he had locked eyes with me and was angry. Now there were some people in the hallway frantically asking if I was okay, but I couldn't speak. My friend, still on the line, told me to go back into my apartment and that she would meet me there with her husband. My friend and her husband came up a few moments later, staying with me as I frantically packed to go back. We decided it wasn't safe for me to be alone in my apartment, so I reached out to another friend who lives elsewhere in the city and said I could crash at her place. My friend and her husband escorted me through the hallway, me physically breaking down as we neared the elevators, but eventually leading me to my other friend's car. As I write this update, I'm in the living room of her apartment for the third day, figuring out my next move. So on my first day at my friend's house, I wrote management an email explaining the incident with the resident. Again, this was my second day and still no response from them. My friend went to management with her husband to report the incident since she also witnessed him yelling so it could add to their complaints. She said management was aware of me and my complaints, but they can't do anything because he's protected under the Fair Housing Act. Management cannot deny housing to someone due to their disability, which includes mental illness. For context, most buildings in my city have MFTE units, basically reduced rent apartments that are reserved as part of an affordable housing program. In my city, from what I understand, people can qualify for MFTE housing based on income and sometimes it's combined with disability protections, which is likely how he's able to stay here. So it seems my unit is worried if they evict him, he might be able to sue for discriminatory eviction. I don't have a male partner, which seems to be the only deterrent from the resident, so my sister and her husband are trying to figure out when they can fly in and help me pack my place so I can get out of here. I'm pretty devastated because it's a really beautiful complex with incredible amenities, gorgeous interior and pretty new. But all this means nothing when my safety's at risk. I have no plans, but I cannot go back to my unit until I have protection at all times in that building. Sa it.