Loading summary
Transcript2 lines
- [00:00]
A
Geico's motorcycle expertise means I'm covered by people who know bikes like I do. I'm happy as a clam. No conclusive scientific research has shown clams can experience happiness. It just meant that I feel really good about my coverage. I mean, even if you took the clam out for the best day ever, visiting the zoo, taking a scenic ride, knowing you're insured by specialists, and sharing a strawberry ice cream cone together, the clam would not feel happy and your strawberry cone would taste sort of clammy. Ew. Geico's motorcycle specialists who know bikes like you do assume no liability for clammy ice cream cones. Geico expertise for your motorcycle.
- [00:35]
B
I wanted to share this story to warn people, but it's not necessarily a creepy encounter, just a sort of story that's really weird and freaked me out. I'm traveling around the country in my car. I've been driving for over a week from the city that I lived in, and I've so far slept in my car to save money. It wasn't until I got to a big enough city that I decided to treat myself to an actual bed that would be comfortable. I opted to choose Airbnb because, well, it's cheaper than hotels. I booked this Airbnb the day before I arrived at the city, so there weren't many options left. I had found this apartment on Airbnb that looked very new and modern, and it was in a great location too. The price was decent for its location and it almost seemed too good to be true. The only downfall was that it was listed as a new listing and had zero reviews. I figured that the price was low because it was a new listing and decided to just give it a shot. I mean, it must be legit because, I mean, it is Airbnb, right? When I got to the apartment building, it was older looking than I'd expected. I later found out and realized that my Airbnb was most likely the only renovated apartment in the building. And the building seemed to be in very poor condition. It looked like a dorm hall rather than an apartment building. Anyways, I let it all slide because I wasn't really paying too much anyways, so what could I really expect? The apartment itself looked like the pics, so that was good enough. Everything went well for the first two days. As a female traveling alone, I always make sure to be safe. I don't go out when it's dark and I always lock the door. That includes every single lock, including the chain thing. Anyways, on the third day, I Was out all morning and came back to the apartment to change to head to the beach. I had again locked the door, including the chain. I was in front of the door watching TV while changing when the door suddenly unlocked and someone opened the door. I am beyond lucky that I'd put the chain lock on the door or else it would have opened all the way. I was naked and no one else was supposed to have the keys but me. My first reaction was, um, excuse me. And I closed the door right away, locking it again. I came from the back of the door and I didn't look or see who was opening it. I sat in front of the door, scared and shocked, realizing that this person could technically still get in here since they obviously have the keys to the apartment. At first I thought maybe it was the owner coming back after I checked out, but I wasn't supposed to check out until the following day, so that was impossible. After crying for a few minutes, I recuperated myself and called the owner and told her what had happened. She told me that no one else should have a set of keys other than her and I, and that she's at work and that it wasn't her. I was scared to stay in the apartment because someone else could come in. I didn't want to leave because I had all of my valuables there, so it was a lose lose situation. I then called my dad who told me that it was not okay that someone has the keys and that she needs to take care of this asap. So he talked to her and she told me that she'll be there shortly with the locksmith to change it and then give me a pair of new keys. She then proceeded to tell me that she had only had this apartment for six months and that before I stayed there, there was only one other Airbnb booking. She also mentioned that it had been sitting empty other than those two bookings because she had been renovating the apartment, which now makes sense why the building looks like absolute crap and doesn't match the apartment. She told me that the only possibility for who that was could be the previous owners or someone related to them. That possibility, in theory, really messed with me. How is it possible that I was gone all day, every day? In the 10 minutes I was home, someone tried to come in. Did they know I was there? What were they coming in for if this apartment has been sitting empty for half a year? Maybe they did this frequently, or maybe they saw me come in and tried to do something to me. These questions are constantly on my mind. I Just know that I'm so lucky that I put the keychain on the door or else. Well, I don't even want to know what else could have happened. Needless to say, I won't be leaving a good review and I won't be staying in an Airbnb that has no reviews or seems too good to be true. I definitely learned my lesson with this one. This happened in January or February of 2024, I can't remember which. I was visiting family in southern France and I didn't want to stay at their place even if they offered for personal reasons that I don't want to share here. I want to note that I visit them quite often and usually last minute, so I would never book the same place and I would sometimes book a hotel room which was more expensive but better for me as I don't necessarily want to socialize with the hosts. Even when I would book Airbnbs I would always search for flats or studio flats and not a room in a flat or house where other people live as I want to be on my own. So this is an important criteria for me. So I booked this Airbnb within walking distance to where my family members stay and it looks very nice on paper. I think it was marketed as a house or grand floor flat with access to a yard and a garden. It was probably one of the cheaper options. I don't remember for sure, but I wasn't going there for leisure or planning to have a very nice place for myself to have enjoyable holidays, if that makes sense. So I really just wanted something for convenience and wouldn't pay extra for any kind of luxury. There were not a lot of reviews, but the few ones were very positive. So I go to that place with my suitcase waiting in front of the house. I contacted the landlord who should give me the keys, but he's late. I spent at least one hour waiting outside and I'm trying to be patient, realizing at least the neighborhood is still pretty nice and seems safe even if I need to walk through areas that are slightly dodgy to get there from where my relatives stay. The landlord finally arrives. He seems like a good man and apologizes profusely, saying he was in another town visiting his cousin or friends and that time just flew by. First red flag he says they were drinking and didn't have time to sober up so he had to speed on the highway on his motorbike while being tipsy and drunk. He stops and he asked me half jokingly to not say that in my review. I get a bit serious and tell him that he shouldn't be drinking and driving, but he says that he really didn't want to make me wait any further. I tell him that I won't flag that in my review. Spoiler alert. I will, but I didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. The guy is pretty nice otherwise and he seems trustworthy, very chatty and also pretty open to socializing. And frankly I was just happy I could finally get in and drop my stuff. The second red flag is when he tells me that I'll be living in a small flat adjacent to the bigger house that he lives in, but that I shouldn't worry because I'll have my own place, my own bathroom, my own kitchen, etc. I don't really like that too much, but I actually think it might be good because I'm not super comfortable being on my own in a ground floor accommodation knowing that anyone can get into the yard and access the front door. Again, I'm paranoid, so knowing that someone I know is close by in case something happens gives me a sense of safety. God was I wrong. He shows me around and all seems okay. It's pretty old, but as I said, I wasn't looking for a luxury stay. The part where I would stay is on a lower level than street level. Not exactly like a basement because there's still access to a garden, but I need to walk down a set of stairs outside to get into a flat through the backyard. This shows mostly when I'm in the bedroom as I see through the windows that it's clearly at a lower level. Next red, or rather yellow flag is when he shows me a door close to the bedroom, which is the connecting door between my part and his house. I was kind of expecting that, but I thought that he might need to at least cross the yard or access through the front door to get into my part of the house. He says that this door stays closed and it's locked anyway. Not as a warning for me to try to open it, but more like you'll notice there's this door. It's useless for you, and what's beyond it is not part of what you're renting. We chatted for a little bit too long for my own taste because I was tired and was also still annoyed at his lateness and not in the mood to socialize. He gives me his phone number because the Airbnb chat feature isn't good. It's easier to use WhatsApp, he says, and then he leaves. I start to settle down and open my suitcase and then get changed before leaving to visit the family. I then go back to the place in the evening and decided to have a shower. If I remember correctly what I'm saying next happened before I took a shower because I remember locking the bathroom door, which I never do when I'm on my own, and I recall being quite anxious when taking the shower. So the biggest red flag before the last drop I'm sitting on the bed and then hear a knock and someone saying my name two seconds later, before I get the chance to answer or even understand where the noise comes from, I hear keys turning in a lock and a door opening. As you might have guessed, it's the connecting door next to the bedroom. The guy enters and he says he can't find his phone and that he might have left it downstairs. I'm a bit shocked, probably because if he had come 10 minutes later, I probably would have been naked, ready to take a shower, or maybe even walking around in a towel since I'm supposedly alone. I know it might sound like I'm a big wuss, but keep in mind that I'm a relatively young woman alone in a house with a man in his 40s or 50s and he has control of when he can get into my place at any time. I stay polite and try to tell him no that I haven't seen his phone. I would have noticed there's literally nothing except my open suitcase on a couch in the bedroom. He still gets in, speaking a lot and very fast while I'm still sitting there not fully realizing what's happening and not having a chance to tell him to leave. He looks around the flat and obviously doesn't find the phone. Then he says sorry and asks if everything is fine, if I had dinner or something like that, then leaves again. At that point I'm really wondering if I should even stay or not since I know you get refunded only if you cancel two nights in advance. I just thought that I would lose money for the night that it started and the following one Knowing that I had booked at least four nights, I really needed to take a shower, but questioning if I should. I tried to see if there are available hotel rooms, but it's already too late to book or already fully booked. I decided to take my shower really quick, wondering if he could hear the shower and decide that he forgot something else to get in. Again, nothing bad happens. I then go back to the bedroom, get dressed as fast as I can just in case, and then sit down and think. I decided that I'll just stay for the night and that I'll probably be less paranoid in the morning. If I'm still alive, that is. That's when I notice the chairs in the bedroom. There are two and one of them has ropes tied around the armrests. The chairs are in good shape and the rope is definitely not there to keep the armrests fixed to the chair as they're just loose. To this day, I have no idea why they were there. I still think I should sleep there just for the night and try to use a chair to block the door handle in the bedroom. Kind of like in the movies. But guys, this only works in the movies. I try with both chairs, trying to pile them up, even trying to use the ropes one way or another, the handle can still go down enough to open the door easily. I think that at least if I leave them in front of the door, I'll hear someone if someone tries to open it but the door opens the other way. And in any case, I didn't know what I'd do even if the noise woke me up. Again, I'm paranoid and anxious, but living alone abroad. My motto is to never ever take risks for my own safety as I'm usually the only one who can save myself, so better to avoid any tricky situation. It doesn't mean that I never go out, but I wouldn't get drunk around people I don't trust and I would take a cab if I feel unsafe going home on my own after midnight. I now live in a city that's rather safe, but I've had way too many bad encounters to not be careful. So from my external point of view, this is a story about someone booking an Airbnb with good reviews with a nice and friendly landlord who's just overly open because he likes to meet people and the ropes are just a detail. But for my anxious and paranoid self, it's the premise of a horror story or thriller where you shout at the stupid and trusting victim to get away ASAP before the guy comes back. So I decided to call my brother who came to pick me up around midnight for me to spend the rest of my stay at his place. I spent a year studying in Mexico recently, and as you do on exchange, I had tried to travel as much as I could between the semesters. There's a big break and me and my buddy that I'd spent most of the time with during the exchange decided to go on a longer backpacking trip through Mexico together. We had a rough plan on where to go and what we wanted to see. But we hadn't even booked our flight back yet, nor were we sure where we would take it from. We wanted to keep it flexible, and a few days before our trip ended, we had finally decided that we would take our flight from a city that was close and had really cheap flights, but the city itself didn't really have anything to offer. Then on Airbnb, we found a room that was very close to the airport and a house with a pool, and we thought we would treat ourselves to a relaxed pool day. At the end of the trip. It turned out that the hosts were a family. The husband was Mexican and the wife was from Europe and could even speak our native language. So we arranged that we would take a bus to the airport and they would pick us up from there. When we finally arrived at the city, it was already dark and the bus driver refused to drive us to the airport since it was not directly on his route. So he just dropped us off on the highway. That was already a pretty crappy situation to begin with, standing with our backpacks at the side of the road in the middle of no nowhere in a not so safe city in Mexico. But I called the host and sent them our GPS location and they said, no problem, they'll come and get us. So the husband came to pick us up and it was a very uncomfortable situation getting into the car with a stranger in the middle of nowhere at night. It also didn't help that the guy looked like Danny Trejo without a mustache. And as I tried to make small talk with him, he only gave monosyllabic answers or straight out ignored me. Well, he's probably just not a big talker. I thought and hoped we would arrive soon. Looking back, I can see a million red flags, but for some reason at that time we just didn't see them. Either we were too tired, or to be honest, we didn't really have any other choice than going along anyway. But yes, we arrive and that really should have immediately set alarms off. We were in the middle of freaking nowhere. There were fields with sheep and goats all around. And all of a sudden a gravel road branches off from the paved road. And along that gravel road There are about six huge mansions, all with 2 meter walls around them, topped with NATO fence, huge gates, and at least two gigantic guard dogs per house. When we entered the house, we were greeted by the wife, a bubbly middle aged woman who was very talkative but pleasant. She had actually cooked dinner for us and we ate while exchanging small talk. The husband just sat at the table, not saying a word. After dinner, we more or less went directly to bed because it had gotten late and we were really tired from a long day. The next morning we saw that the weather wasn't that good, so we decided to go into the town and just see the few touristy things it had to offer instead of spending it at the pool. When we came back, it was already dark, but we decided to jump into the pool anyway to cool off because it was very hot and humid. The wife had actually joined us at some point. My friend made the mistake to ask how they were able to afford such a nice house. It didn't really match the price range of the jobs they were telling us they were doing, and she deflected a bit, adding that her husband was very handy because he had grown up in the streets and had basically built the house himself. We realized that maybe it wasn't the best topic and broke the conversation off. That was the last day of our trip, and we had our flight back home early the next morning. We still had some weed left that we had brought on the trip, and we thought it would be nice to smoke one out since it was our last night. But as this was a family home and they had kids around, we thought it would be better to speak to our hosts, if they would mind. So later in the evening, we had asked the wife if it would be okay if we smoked on the terrace, which for some reason she found quite amusing, and just started laughing. She shouted to her husband, who was lying on the couch watching tv. She asked her husband if it would be okay for us to smoke weed and asked what he thought of it. He had started laughing, but didn't really give an answer. We just looked at her with a dumbfounded expression and then she told us, sure, just go ahead. So we went to the terrace and it started smoking our joint. Later on, they had actually joined us and we just had a chat. And this is where things got really messed up. For some reason, they had started asking all sorts of questions about weed, where we got it from, and how much we would have to pay for that back in Europe. They just seemed way too interested in the weed. And at one point, the wife just nonchalantly revealed to us, yeah, well, we thought about doing that as a source of income, selling weed, but too many people die doing that because their cartels don't like it. Actually, my husband used to kill people for doing that. I immediately felt sober. Did she really just say that? As if he read my mind. Her husband added, yes, when I was about 16. I killed a lot of people for the cartel, for money. And he said it in a tone as if he just said he used to mow lawns when he was a teenager. I still thought that I must have misunderstood, so I texted my friend, who was sitting across the table from me, trying not to make eye contact because I knew we would freak each other out. He confirmed that I had indeed understood. Right. We discussed what we should do next and agree that there's no immediate threat and that we should just stay. We don't have anywhere else to go anyways, and it's already late. But then things got even crazier. We tried to keep our composure and not completely freak out while still making conversation with our hosts. A few minutes later, though, the husband got up and went inside to get something, and he came back with a literal kilo of weed pressed into a brick. He proceeded to break bits off the brick and roll them into a joint that probably would have knocked out Snoop Dogg. It was about the size of my thumb, and I guess it had about 2 grams of weed in there. Of course, he offered the joint to us, but we politely declined, saying that we were already pretty stoned. He seemed a little offended, but fortunately he bought our excuse. But it got even worse. A few minutes later, we heard a loud couple of bangs. The wife became a bit uneasy and asked, what was that? To which he answered calmly, 9 mm, to confirm my suspicion that that had indeed been shots. I would say it was around seven or something. Shots fired pretty quickly after each other. The wife got nervous and asked if we should maybe go inside and what do you think they're shooting at? In the air? At cows? At people? But he just shrugged it off and we stayed outside again, a few minutes later, there were even more shots, this time even closer. The wife got even more upset and asked again, should we maybe go inside? What do you think they're shooting at? Should we go inside? And I don't think I'll ever forget when he then answered in the calmest way imaginable, no, everything's okay. I didn't hear any screams yet. I don't know why, but the way he just calmly said that freaked me the hell out. And it's still making my heart beat whenever I think about it. After that, we quickly excused ourselves and went to our room. When we could finally talk, we basically just both lost it and panicked. What the hell were we supposed to do? We're locked into a house with a contract killer in the middle of absolutely freaking nowhere. And there's people shooting outside. We decided that it was probably our best bet to stay because we thought, well, we are his guests, he's not going to harm us, hopefully. And it's probably better to have walls and dogs and a potential serial killer in between us and the people shooting around. So we barricaded ourselves in the room and didn't sleep a second until the morning when we noded the hell out of there and went to the airport. I was never so happy to be patted down in security my whole life. This didn't happen to me personally. It happened to two of my cousins. They gave me permission to share this story, so I'll be telling the story from their point of view. My name is Leah. The story happened in April 2016. I was 29 years old at the time and I live in Atlanta. In April, me and my cousin, who I'll refer to as Kate, wanted to go for a Caribbean getaway. But we didn't want to go to these popular tourist destinations such as the Bahamas, Jamaica, the Dominican Republic, or Puerto Rico. We chose a lesser known island called Dominica. It's a small island located between Guadalupe and Martinique, and the capital is Rosso. It has a population of about 72,000 people. So we booked an Airbnb located out in the countryside called Salisbury. It's 30 minutes away from Rosso. When we got there, the first two weeks went really well. We rented a car and our Airbnb was perfect and it was located near a nice, peaceful beach. It was truly the getaway we needed. We explored the island, visited several beautiful waterfall locations, and even made some friends in the village we were staying at. But on the second day of the third week, something really horrible happened. One afternoon, Kate and I didn't go out and decided to just spend time at the nearby beach with the locals. Later on, the people left the beach to go home. Kate wanted to go back to the Airbnb, but I decided to stay there so I could enjoy some alone time. I closed my eyes, laying down near the beach, enjoying the peace and quiet. Before I knew it, it got dark, so I decided that it was time to get back to the house. I walked and arrived at the Airbnb, but as I was getting my keys to unlock the door, two men wearing masks suddenly ran out of the bushes and started beating me with batons. One even threw a rock at me and I was screaming in pain. My cousin Kate came out and tried to defend me, but the men also overpowered her as well. They then ran into the airbnb house and ransacked the entire place and then they ran away. The other villagers saw what was happening and quickly came to our aid, but the two men had already ran away. They stole my laptop, my phone and my wallet, but by luck Kate's laptop was also stolen. Luckily, our passports weren't stolen. I was bleeding profusely and Kate was bleeding even more. At some point I felt like I was gonna pass out. The police came over and we told them what happened and even the police officers were horrified. Dominica is usually a very safe country, so everybody was in shock. Two of the villagers drove us to the hospital which was in Rosu. We got hospitalized because we were so badly injured. We even had to change the date for our return flight, but thankfully we got out alive. As far as we know, those two delinquents are still out there, but I really hope they got caught. This forever traumatizes Kate and I. However, I still like Dominica and I would love to visit again someday, but next time I'll definitely be a lot more cautious. Don't take this too seriously. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this, but I'm just really glad I didn't take the chance. Super, super creepy. Nevertheless, about two weeks ago I booked an Airbnb in another country. I was going there for a concert. The room was cheap so I knew I wasn't going to be staying in a five star hotel. But it was only for one night so I didn't mind as long as I had a bed to start off. It already wasn't a great trip because my data roaming apparently didn't work in that country at all. I logged into a cafe wifi and planned my route in advance as best I could. Managed to be at the house just in time, rang the only bell and waited. Nobody came out. I repeatedly rang and waited for five minutes. I noticed the door had a slot for mail and looked through it. I was shocked to see an entrance that looked like an abandoned barn. A super dusty couch right in front of the door, pieces of furniture covered in cloth, very dirty and extremely old. I usually love old houses, but that just did not look like a house that was in use or prepared for guests at all. I wondered if I was at the wrong house and what do I do now? As a super old unwashed looking guy walked towards the door from the street, I asked him if he knew where the Airbnb was. He mumbled something which I interpreted as positive, so I asked him if he was Tim who was supposed to be My host, he said yes and opened the door for me. Well, I already described the entrance, so there's no point in doing that again. The centerpiece was definitely the super old creaky staircase that led to the upper part of the house. I followed him upstairs. He was heaving and coughing and just absolutely stinking of cigarettes, which wasn't exactly pleasant, but whatever. The second floor was also abandoned looking. It was super dark with clustered furniture hung with cloth and it was randomly thrown together and a super creepy curtain that I couldn't catch a glimpse behind. Another stair up and we were in my hallway, which was honestly the worst one. Cracks in the walls and old rural paintings and crosses hung up next to them. It seriously looked like the set of a horror movie. I usually don't have problems with decor like that. I'm goth, so anything darkly inclined is my jam. But everything looks so badly taken care of. So I got major creepo vibes from this house. He showed me the bathroom, which had a huge hole missing in the bathtub tiling and the wall. Everything just looked super dirty. He showed me to my bedroom, which was honestly okay. There were just a lot of creepy dolls on the shelves that threw me off, but the bed seemed fine. I asked him if he had wifi and he said no, which really sucked. I really hoped they would have it because that meant I would have no way to communicate there. I asked him when checkout was the next day. He said it doesn't matter. Um, okay. He then dragged himself up to the fourth story, which was in complete pitch black darkness by the way. So that gave me very weird vibes. I definitely didn't want to get into the shower, so I just quickly changed and charged my phone. When I went to the bathroom, I realized that I didn't even notice the creepiest part. There were no locks like at all, which really freaked me the hell out. I also noticed that there were so many half used items that someone left there, like shower gels, toothbrushes and toothpaste. I guess it was the guests before me. A random lash curler just laid abandoned on the shelf. Not like a here you go for your use in case you forgot yours way, but it just looked like someone left it and nobody bothered to clean it away. I already made up my mind that I would definitely not stay the night in this house. My mind was just spinning scenarios. What if all these products were left by the people before me? And why did nobody leave horrendous reviews? Because they got murdered. I asked myself, laughing. I was super spooked out. I seriously debated if I should take all my crap to the concert because it just didn't feel safe in the slightest. But my back was really hurting from my heavy backpack so I just took my essentials and left the room as soon as I could. Not without sliding a folded paper under the door so I'd see if someone tried to open it in my absence. When I was coming down the staircase, I had heard someone turning a key in the front door. I was a bit confused, but in the advert it said that a couple lived there so I expected to see the wife or girlfriend of the guy that I had already met. Instead, a middle aged man enters and then says hey, I'm Tim. All I could think of was then who the hell was the other guy? I was really crapping myself inside, but had brief small talk with them and then finally left the house. I was shaking. I luckily made it in time to the venue and the concert was well worth it. Afterwards I was so tired that I knew I couldn't stay awake for the whole night. So I checked into a hotel. It wasn't perfectly clean, but at least it had wifi, a proper shower, and a door with a dang lock. The next day I got thrown out at 10am So I made my way to get the rest of my stuff. I don't know why, but I had checked the mail slot again and jumped back. The old guy was just snoring on the couch directly in front of the entrance door. I tried my best not to wake him and I sneaked into my room to get my crap and then I finally left this godforsaken place. I also want to mention that the door actually hadn't been opened. Thank God. I really don't know if I overreacted, but honestly, from the first two attempts to the missing locks and a checkout that didn't matter. If I assumed the worst, this would have been the perfect setup to assault or murder someone. Best case scenario, nothing actually would have happened, but I probably would have had panic attacks all night. Usually I really love solo traveling, but this. This was just way too this happened a few years ago, the year 2018. Me and three other friends decided to travel to Bali for about a week since it was cheap and we had the time. So I mean, why not? We were all males in our early 20s. Our itinerary includes sightseeing, trying local foods, mountain climbing, visiting bars at the beach, and basically just a typical vacation in Indonesia. It was honestly quite a surreal experience. The country is absolutely beautiful and the Food was amazing. The only issue I had about the trip were, well, the locals. Drugs were really prominent there, especially shrooms. The streets were filled with druggies dying to sell us their drugs. I am not exaggerating when I say this. One dude even grabbed my arm because I ignored his two for one deal. For a one way trip to meet Jesus. I just shrugged it off while my friends laughed it off. He looked rabid and frantic, like he was about to pounce onto me like a dog diagnosed with rabies. I didn't feel too afraid as we were confident that we could handle them since half of them were not even sober. However, that is only the tip of the iceberg. The real horror started when we went back to our Airbnb for the night. We had an early day the next morning and we were exhausted. The place was extremely cheap and it didn't even have a proper locking mechanism for the door. It had two wooden doors which swung inwards and the only way to lock them was to wedge a wooden block through the holes mounted on the door. It was quite a primitive lock, but it gets the job done I guess. Everything was going well until the last night of our trip when we realized that the wooden block was now missing. We looked everywhere for it, but to no avail. I just figured that one of us must have misplaced it somewhere. We settled for using a selfie stick. I know it sounds like a horrible idea, but we used that instead since we didn't have anything that fits the holes to wedge the door close. We turned in for the night, seemingly not expecting anything since we had already stayed there for six days with no issues. I woke up to strange clicking sounds in the dead of the night. I got out of my bed and thought maybe it's one of the guys. So I nonchalantly approached the noise. My friends were all sleeping, so I decided to investigate the cause of the noise. The ruckus seemed to be coming from the door so I headed towards them feeling extremely confused. Who could be at our doorstep at this time of the night? I wondered. I noticed the doors were slightly opened and the selfie stick was horribly deformed. I peeked outside and saw three people staring through the gap between the doors. They were really close to the entrance and were attempting to push open the doors. I yelled at them, questioning their intentions as I noticed one of them was holding the wooden block. I was shocked and puzzled at the situation as I then recognized one of the men. He did the overall cleaning for the Airbnbs and pathways during the day, so there's no reason for him to be there at 3am the other dude had asked if the wooden block belonged to us as they allegedly found it outside of our Airbnb. I definitely smelled bullcrap in that moment as there was absolutely no reason to do that. At 3am I called for my guys and the three men immediately ran for it. I clue in the guys on the circumstances and we stayed up until morning came in case they tried anything funny. We decided to report to the reception about their employee, but the description I gave them was not synonymous with theirs. They told me that the housekeepers they usually hire really only consisted of females in their late 30s and 40s. This sent shivers down our spines as we came to realize that we had let a complete imposter in and out of our rooms while we were out. Luckily, nothing important was lost and we got out of that situation safely. I can't imagine what would happen if I didn't wake up on that fateful night as the doors were so close to being open. I was just grateful that it was our last night there.