← Southern Cannibal's Scary Stories
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Lauren
Hi guys, my name is Lauren. The story took place a little over a year ago. My best friend Sarah and I were going to hang out like we usually did, walking around town and talking in the evenings. As we were walking, we decided to go through the local park. There have been some horror stories about this park in the past. I'm sure nearly every town has some creepy stories about their local park, but it was still pretty bright out, just a typical summer evening. There were people walking dogs, family strolling, kids playing football, so we didn't think anything of it and just entered the park. As we were walking, we had bumped into Sarah's younger sister Chloe. Chloe's friends were heading home, so we told her she could stay with us until we were ready to leave. We sat on a bench chatting and laughing until we decided to call it a night. It was starting to get dark and this end of the park didn't have any lights. We got up to leave and started walking. I turned on the flashlight on my phone so we could see where we were going. By this point, the park was pitch black and silent. You couldn't even hear the birds in the trees anymore. In the distance, I noticed someone walking towards us. All I could see was the light from their phone screen reflecting on their face with their hood up. I thought it was odd for someone to be walking alone in the dark, but I just kept it to myself. I didn't want to scare the girls. As the person got closer and passed us, I realized it was a man. Sarah broke the silence by saying, was it just me or did anyone else also find that uncomfortable? I laughed and I told her I'd been thinking the same thing. Chloe turned around and looked back at the man and then whispered that he had turned around and he was now walking behind us without Saying a word. The three of us all just sped up throughout the park. There are entrances to nearby housing estates that break up the main path. Sarah suggested that we take the next turn into one of the estates so we could pass in front of us. We quickly went through the gate and into the estate when we suddenly heard footsteps right behind us. Chloe looked back and saw that he was now charging at us. We all took off running, squirming down the road, too scared to look back again. We turned into a side street and hid behind a van parked at the end of the road. My heart was pounding and my legs were shaking. A million thoughts raced through my head at once. Where did he go? What do we do now? How are we going to get home? It felt like one of those scenes from a movie where someone knocks on a random door asking for help, but we were frozen, totally unsure of what to do. Sarah suggested that we call an Uber since we didn't want to walk back up the road. The man was still standing near the gate. Sarah called the Uber and explained what was happening to the driver. He stayed on the phone with us until we arrived and made sure we were okay. During the ride home, the three of us just sat in silence, completely shocked, not knowing what to say to each other. To this day, I still don't understand why he turned around and started following us. Was he looking for someone in the park to do this to? Why run after us and then just disappear? One thing's for sure, I've never gone back into that park after dark and I don't plan to anytime soon. I live in Dublin, Ireland and one of many assisted living accommodations. There's a reception area with staff during the day and security guards at night. I've always felt very happy and safe living here. I even feel safe enough to sleep with my window open a crack if it gets too warm in the summer. Until last Friday, I believe that once I got behind our log gates at night, I was completely safe. But last Friday changed everything. Another thing you need to know is that I absolutely love attending concerts and shows at various venues around Dublin. Since I can't see the view, doesn't matter. So I usually buy the cheapest tickets and go quite often. So last Friday? Yes, on the 4th of July, I was returning home from one such concert. Around 10pm, the taxi pulled up to the locked main gate. I buzzed the intercom to ask the security guard to let me in through the side gate. I do have a key, but the lock is stiff and fiddly. The key often gets stuck or it just won't turn. The security guard didn't answer after two rings, which usually means he's outdoing one of his hourly patrols around the property. The taxi driver kindly offered to open the side gate for me, relock it, and pass me the key through the bars. So that's what we did. Once I was halfway through the courtyard, the guard shows up, apologizing for not being there earlier. He had indeed been patrolling. I told him it was okay. He helped me navigate the rest of the courtyard to avoid parked cars, then led me into the building, straight ahead through the reception area, and then turned right toward the double doors leading into the corridor that goes directly to my apartment. Usually, the guard brings me to the double doors, opens them, and then lets me walk the rest of the way to my door unaided. It's a straight path with no obstacles. Besides, I'm behind locked gates with cameras all around. What could possibly go wrong? I found and opened my door, entered my apartment, and I went to close and lock my front door, something that I always do right away. But this time the door felt strangely stiff. My first thought was, I really need to put in a maintenance request. There's something really wrong with this door. I kept trying to close and lock it, but the more I pushed, the more it resisted. Then I realized with horror that someone was on the other side trying to prevent me from closing it. I was terrified. I thought whoever it was might force their way in and assault me. I threw my whole body against the door and pushed with all of my strength, but the person on the other side was doing the same. In panic, I shouted loudly, what is it? The moment I shouted, the person let go and I felt the door slam shut. I then immediately locked it. Afterward, I just leaned against the wall, trying to process what the hell had just happened. Did someone really try to get into my apartment? How come I never heard them behind me? Should I report this to the security guard? But what if it was the security guard? What if he tampers with the camera footage? Are there even cameras in that corridor? Would anyone even believe me if there aren't? I went to bed without reporting it. But by Saturday, I was more and more freaked out. So that afternoon, I had sent a long voice message to my key worker on WhatsApp explaining what had happened. I knew that she wouldn't get the message until Monday, but at least I had reported it. I had attended another concert on Sunday, and thankfully, nothing happened. I was able to open and close my front door just fine. That night, unfortunately, my key worker wasn't able to access her work phone on Monday, but she finally got the message on Tuesday. She replied that she would contact me in an hour after she had spoke to the building manager. An hour later, she had requested a meeting with me and the building manager. What the manager told me made me shudder. Apparently the camera footage showed the security guard going the opposite direction to where I had gone, continuing his patrol. But someone really had been following me down my corridor. You can't see the struggle at my door on the footage, but you can see that person running away. Due to GDPR regulations, they couldn't tell me yet who it was, but they had contacted the police who were coming to take my statement. They also told me that they believed the person was likely just trying to rob me, not assault me. But I still wanted to press charges. I didn't want anything like this to ever happen again to me or to anyone else in our building. They offered me the option of having a security guard walk me right to my door and make sure I get inside safely and lock the door every time I come home late from a concert or show. I gratefully accepted. So to the person who tried to force their way into my apartment, I hope we meet again. But next time I hope you're in handcuffs. And it's a bit anticlimactic. The police came. They were very kind and understanding. They interviewed me and reviewed the footage. It turns out my would be intruder is a minor. I was told that I could press charges, but since he's underage, he wouldn't be prosecuted. He would only receive a stern warning. I decided to not press charges since there would be no real consequences and I didn't see the point. Plus, I don't know what his parents or guardians are like. What if they tried to intimidate me? However, I do hope that the police put the fear of God into him so he thinks twice before ever doing something like this again to anyone else. So when I was younger, around 13 or 14 years old, I was invited to go on a camping trip with my best friend Pat, his dad and his uncles. It was this kind of guy's weekend coming of age thing, something I'd like to do with my kids now. You know, fishing, cooking over fires, our first couple of beers, sleeping in tents and stuff like that. We drove pretty far up north, but this being many Years later, being 30, I can't really remember where exactly we went. I know it was about two hours north of where I live now. We had parked Pat's dad's truck off to the side of the road in a bush and canoeing a pretty far distance down a river to a lake and set up our camp at the edge of the water. Right across the water we could see this really old abandoned looking cabin. On the outside it looked abandoned. The roof was sagging and all of the bushes were growing up around it. At one point Pat's dad and his uncles were fishing and drinking and allowed us to go adventuring a bit. Surprisingly, they had actually allowed us to take one of the canoes across the water to check out the abandoned cabin. In hindsight, I don't think I would let my boys now go that far where I couldn't get to them in an emergency. But they were drunk, so being 13ish year old boys, we did exactly that. We paddled across and checked it out. On the outside this thing looked super decrepit. The front door was unlocked and we went inside. This was a big mistake. On the inside. It was certainly not abandoned and very lived in. It really freaked us out knowing somebody lived there but was obviously nowhere nearby. There were porn magazines spread across the table, a bong, a tray full of weed, beer bottles everywhere. And on one of the shelves in the living room were two hunting shotguns. I know it was dumb to play with them, but we did. We never pulled the trigger, just walked around the house with them like idiots, feeling all cool. We checked out different rooms in the house, but one really creeped us out. Yes, I understand that we technically committed to break in an entering or a trespass, but we honestly thought it was abandoned before we even got inside. Once we were in, we figured it was somebody's hangout or something, but it was pretty deep out in the woods. Anyways. One of the rooms had those mannequins that you see in a clothing store, but none of them were wearing any clothes and they all had wigs on different lengths and colors. Something just felt really off about that and we decided that we had had enough and left after putting the guns back where we had found them. After canoeing back to our campsite, we told Pat's dad everything. He was almost as stunned as we were. That evening we fished some more and Pat caught a fish that his dad had cooked over the fire. While we were eating dinner, two guys came by in a motorboat and stopped at our side. They were friendly enough, we all joked around a bit and we had assumed they were just other campers or people out fishing, people like us. But then they had invited us to their cabin just across the water to hang out. Pat's dad politely declined, and then they just lingered and things just started to feel weird. The two guys were drinking quite a lot and exchanging weird looks. At one point, they had even asked Pat and I if just the two of us would go hang out. Pat's dad gave them a stern no, and then things were even more awkward. They stayed a while until it got dark, and then eventually they left. That night, Pat's dad and uncle stayed up all night by the fire while we were sleeping in the tent. We didn't really do much sleeping, though. Mostly just talking about how creeped out we were by those two guys that lived in that cabin and their wigs pouring in the guns. Eventually, we fell asleep. In the morning, everything was packed up and Pat's dad cut the trip short. We put the tent we were in away and then left immediately. Most of the trip back was spent talking about how his dad was really freaked out about those two guys. Pat and I have talked about it here and there over the years, but years ago, we actually had a major falling out. I never did ask exactly where that cabin was. I wouldn't want to go back there anyways. My best friend, who I'll call Lisa for privacy reasons, lives really close to me. Her house is actually part of a duplex apartment building, which is important for later. We were extremely close friends, and our parents were totally fine with us going to each other's houses. We usually hung out at her place since her mom needed her around more to help with her younger siblings. At the time of this story, Lisa and her mom were out picking up the kids from the babysitter. I was already at their house waiting for them to get back. One of the kids had a habit of running off when getting out of the car, and the other was an infant. So Lisa's mom would grab the baby while Lisa handled the diaper back since the baby usually needed to be changed as soon as they got home. I was inside waiting. When my mom had called me, she told me that I needed to walk home and grab my medication. She also let me know that Lisa's mom wouldn't be back for another 20 minutes because they had stopped to get food for the kids and for me and Lisa as well. I said, okay, and I told my mom that I'd leave the back door unlocked so I could get back in. She said that was fine, and she told me to leave through the front door. I just said, got it, Then unlocked the back door and went out through the front. Lisa's house was about a five minute walk from mine. As I started walking, I had noticed that Lisa's next door neighbor came outside. He was a tall, maybe six foot man and he was outside on the phone smoking a blunt. I didn't think much of it, honestly. That kind of thing was pretty normal in the neighborhood and I didn't really care. But then as I was walking, I noticed that he'd started following me. At first I thought maybe I was just being paranoid or high. I had smoked a little weed before I left. I tried to ignore it, but then I had heard him laughing. When I turned around, I saw him either taking a picture of me or showing me to someone he was talking to on the phone. That's when I realized that something was really wrong here. I started running. He was a little farther back and I figured I could at least make it into the view of my neighbor's security camera in case he tried to grab me. Then he started running too. I was wearing a necklace with a cross that had a sharp end, and as I ran, it had started digging right into my neck. This will be important later. I grabbed it and pulled it off, breaking the chain. My parents had always taught me that if someone tries to hurt you, you go for the crotch, then the throat and then the eyes, and I knew the sharp cross would help me. If I had to defend myself, though, I hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I started getting out of breath. I have bad asthma and I didn't have my inhaler with me at the time, but I kept running. I'd rather get home and collapse than slow down and risk getting caught. The man was getting closer and closer, and I wasn't even halfway down the road to my house yet. Finally, I jumped over an old fence and cut through my neighbor's backyard to reach mine. Luckily, my dad was outside working on our car. He saw me running, and when he noticed how panicked I looked, he ran toward me. I was almost in tears. I was terrified. As soon as my dad had started running toward me, the man chasing me stopped and then ran off in the opposite direction. My dad didn't chase after him, he just focused on me. Strangely, we had never reported that incident to the police, and I never saw that man again. Hello everyone, Major lurker here, but I've decided to tell my story on Reddit to those who don't know me. I've scrolled Reddit for years now, but have never actually set up an account. So here I am. I was 11 the first time I saw him. I had just gotten out of school and I remember being hot and tired but still excited because I had chore money in my backpack, pack eight bucks and some change crumpled into my bag next to a mechanical pencil I found on the floor. That high quality shit that was enough for a Happy Meal. Nuggets, fries, a little toy that I'd pretend I didn't care about in a sprite heaven. The McDonald's is only a few blocks from the school and up the hill from my apartment. My mom wasn't crazy about me walking around alone, but she also worked two jobs and couldn't pick me up most days if I got home before 5 and didn't talk to strangers. She didn't ask too many questions. I kept my phone on 50% brightness to save battery, pretended like I was grown, and slid my earbuds in like I had somewhere important to be. That McDonald's became my little kingdom. Booth by the window, shoes kicked off under the table, watching YouTube vine compilations on my cracked phone while sipping a Sprite like it was champagne. I had just discovered Tumblr that year I was reposting Melanie Martinez fan edits and thinking that I understood the word aesthetic. I was 11, going on 20, or at least I thought I was. That's probably why I didn't think it was weird when he sat near me. He didn't work there, I knew that much. He was way too old to be hanging around during school hours, and he didn't have a uniform, but the first time I assumed he was waiting for someone. He had on this navy hoodie, sleeves pushed up, and a raggedy backpack next to him, like he had also just got out of school. He looked maybe 17, 18 at the oldest, with a face like he had just started growing into it. Tall, white boy, deep voice. He looked like one of those SoundCloud emo rapper dudes. You draw? He asked, nodding at my sketchbook. I shrugged, trying to act unbothered. Kinda, I said. Not like for real, for real. You got talent, man, he said, and I felt my chest puff up just a little. Nobody ever said stuff like that to me, especially not older boys at school. Most of the guys my age were busy with whatever the popular trends were back then, but this one, he looked me in the eye when he talked, made me feel seen. The next time he was already there. Same booth, same backpack, same easy smile when I walked in. You again, he said. You following me or something? I laughed a little too loud. He always knew what to say to make me feel grown. He'd ask about school, about my drawings, about music. Then he had started asking other stuff, like what my background was, what kind of guys I liked said that I didn't talk like the other black girls he knew, whatever that meant. I didn't even know how to respond to that one. But still, I came back week after week, sometimes twice a week if I had extra change. And he was always there, like it was planned. The first few weeks, the conversations felt like a secret game. He'd show up at McDonald's like clockwork, sometimes early afternoons, sometimes after school, and we'd talk about everything but what I was really thinking about. I liked how he made me feel special, like I was this rare thing, not just a kid with a Happy Meal and a sketchbook, but someone worth paying attention to. When he asked for my number, I thought, this is it. I'm officially grown. I still remember the moment I handed him my phone, watching him punch in the digits. It felt thrilling, like I was stepping into a world I wasn't supposed to know about yet. My fingers brushed the screen, hesitant for a second. Then I pressed send on the first text I ever wrote to him. Hey, it's me. His reply came almost immediately. You cute. You're always gonna be my favorite artist. That first text stayed with me for a few days. I showed it to my best friend like it was some badge of honor. He thinks I'm cool, I told her, my voice a little higher than usual. He really listens to me. She shrugged. Told me to be careful, but I didn't want to hear it. Middle school kids always try to act like they're grown anyway. Everybody's pretending. I was just pretending better. Sometimes he'd ask me stuff that felt off, but he always said it like it was a joke, so I played along. Like out of nowhere he'd be like, do you say the N word? Be real? Or what would you do if someone called you that at school? And then one day he asked, so can I get the N word? Pass. You're cool like that, right? I remember laughing, but not because it was funny, more like I didn't know what else to do. Then he hit me with, I'll trade you five bucks and a Sprite if you'll be my personal slave for the day. And when I froze a little, he was like, chill, I'm just joking. Damn, you're sensitive. He'd sometimes tried to talk hood around me, saying stuff like un gang or yo, you tryna wild out in this fake deep voice that didn't even sound like him. At the time, I didn't even know what the hell was going on. But looking back now, he was testing me. The text started off innocently. What are you drawing now? Did you finish your homework? You watching that new Stranger Things? He even sent me links to playlists that he said reminded him of me. But over time, things got a little different, a little heavier. He'd asked stuff that made me pause. Questions about my body, if I had started changing yet, who I liked, if anyone had kissed me. I felt weird, but also proud to answer, like I was a grown woman sharing secrets with a friend. Sometimes I'd get texts when I was supposed to be asleep. I bet you look real good in your PJs. You staying up late just thinking about me? I told myself it was a joke, that he was just being funny. It was part of the game. I was learning the rules. I wanted to be in on it. After all, kids at school were trading stories about boys and crutches like it was some kind of competition. I didn't want to be the only one who had never been talked to like that. But even then, there were comments when my stomach flipped. When he asked if I had started growing hair yet or had sent me a picture of his hand gripping a pillow. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I didn't want to lose him. And besides, I thought I was grown enough to handle it. I thought I knew what I was doing. Still, I just kept going to McDonald's, even on days I didn't have much money. Sometimes I'd sit far away, pretending not to notice him watching me. I told myself I was just being cautious. I told myself I was in control. But the truth was, it was getting harder to breathe whenever he was around. Like the air was thicker, heavier, and I didn't know how to make it stop. It wasn't like I told my mom about any of it. I knew that she wouldn't understand. She was busy with work, with bills, with trying to keep everything together. And I was supposed to be a kid, not dealing with this stuff. So I just kept it all inside, tucked away under layers of laughs and texts and drawings. Looking back now, I can now see the signs that I missed. The way his smile sometimes didn't reach his eyes. The way that his questions stopped being about me and started being about control. But back then I was 11, and I thought I was grown, and that was my mistake. I thought blocking his number would end it. When my mom found the text, she didn't scream or curse like I thought she would. She just stared at me, emotionless. Then she said, real quietly, you blocked that boy. Don't answer. Don't go back there. Understand me? I nodded. She didn't say anything else. She walked me out of the room and left me sitting there with my heart pounding and my phone locked in her hand. I told her I'd stop going to McDonald's, and for a while I did. I stayed home after school watching anime reruns on my tablet, sketched in silence. My bestie kept texting me to hang out, but I kept saying no. I wanted to be good, I really did. But something about the quiet made me feel itchy. I missed the way he made me feel seen, like I wasn't just some awkward kid with Velcro sneakers. I missed the attention, even if the words were weird sometimes, even if the questions made my stomach twist. So one Friday when my mom had a double shift, I walked back to the McDonald's. I told myself I wasn't gonna talk to him. I'd just sit, eat, and leave. That was it. I had 10 bucks from babysitting my cousin the weekend before. I ordered a Happy Meal even though I told myself that I wasn't a little kid anymore. He was already inside. Same hoodie, same old backpack, same smile, but it didn't look soft this time. It looked sharp. He watched me sit down in the booth by the window like he'd been waiting. I thought he'd maybe give me a nod across the room. Instead, he walked straight over and slid next to me. Next to me, not across. Right there, on the same side, his body pressed up against mine. I stiffened, staring at the tray in front of me, my hands shaking a little as I opened the tiny milk jug. You've been avoiding me, he said, low and flat. I tried to laugh. Nah, I've just been busy. Homework and stuff. He didn't laugh back. Instead, his leg pressed harder against mine and I could feel how much taller, how much bigger he really was. He was taking up all of the space. I suddenly felt how small my arms were, how my hoodie's sleeves still bunched up at the wrists because I hadn't hit that growth spurt yet. I wasn't grown. I wasn't even close. He leaned in, hot ass breath hitting my face. I thought you were different, he said. I thought you could handle grown up things. But you're just like the rest of them. Little girls scared. My whole body went still. Then, without warning, he put his hand on my thigh hard. He gripped it tight, his fingers digging in like he was trying to leave a mark. I winced, but I didn't say anything. My whole brain just shut off. He wasn't looking at me anymore, just staring straight ahead, his fingers still pressing into the soft part above my knee. I thought you were actually mature, he said, almost like he was sad. Guess I was wrong. I don't even remember standing up. I just remember the sound of the tray clattering to the floor, my fries spilling under the table, the little toy bouncing out of the box and rolling near his foot. I didn't stop to grab it. I didn't look back. I walked out of the front door like I had somewhere to be, then ran the second my feet hit the sidewalk. I didn't cry until I got home. I didn't tell my mom. I didn't tell my friend. I just went straight to my room, curled under the blanket, and felt my thigh throbbing where his fingers had been. After that, I didn't go anywhere but school and home. Even walking past that McDonald's made my stomach just twist. That Friday was the last time I tried to act grown. It was the last time that I let myself believe that I was in control. Looking back now, he saw me alone. He saw how eager I was to be taken seriously, how easy it was to plant compliments like seeds and watch them grow into something he could use. And I gave him room. I let him sit next to me. I laughed when he said creepy things. I answered texts I didn't know how to read right, but I was 11. I just wanted to feel special, and he knew exactly how to use that. I think about that grip on my thigh more than I want to admit. Not because it hurt, because it changed something in me. That moment snapped the fantasy clean in half. I wasn't grown. I was a little girl in a hoodie too big and a heart too soft to carry the weight he put on it. I remember how fast the fear came rushing in, how fake all the flirting felt after that. I remember the silence afterward, the kind that sticks to you. Now that I'm 21, I catch myself watching girls like how I used to be sitting at McDonald's, earbuds in, doodling on napkins, thinking they've got it all figured out and I just want to tell them, baby, you don't. But that's not your fault. It's his. The older boy who keeps showing up where you feel safe, the one who talks to you like you're different, like you're smarter than Everyone else like he's doing you a favor just by paying attention. That boy doesn't think you're special. He thinks you're easy to fool. I'm not ashamed of being that little girl anymore. I was soft and bright and curious and he mistook that all for permission. But I'm angry for her. I really wish somebody had caught me walking into that McDonald's and told me to go home. I wish I had believed my mom the first time. I wish I had known that no grown man should never ever have been paying that much attention to a kid. In 2023, I was in Marmaris with my best friend and on our first night in Turkey around 11pm, we ended up at the fun fair by the beach. At first it felt really exciting and harmless due to the fact that we had just turned 18 and left college. We were just two girls on holiday. But something happened that still sits in my chest to this day. I don't know if I was overreacting or if we just narrowly avoided something really serious. While we were on one of those rides, I noticed a man staring at us. He was standing nearby the ride, just watching us, specifically only us with this intense focus. During the ride, my sunglasses fell off my head. When it ended, the man came up and gave them back to me. I thanked him and walked off with my friend. We then moved on to the next ride and he followed and got on the same ride and he sat directly in front of us and just kept making eye contact with me the entire time. I started to feel genuinely nervous and I could tell my friend did too. When that ride finished, the man came off but and he stood at the queue of the ride just watching us. Me and my friend decided to stay on the ride because now we were genuinely getting scared. We only had one token left, so we decided to use it. While we tried to figure out what to do during the whole ride me and my friend were on, the man just kept staring at us, waiting literally at the entrance of the ride. When the ride ended, I decided to pull out my phone and take a picture of him just for safety reasons. And then when we left the ride, he kept following us around the funfair, but it kept giving me a terrible gut feeling. I then looked at my friend and told her that when I count down to three to take off our shoes and run as fast as we could. He literally chased us through the streets. We ran for about 10 minutes. Eventually we ran into a restaurant and hid. He must have not seen us go in because he Just kept running straight past. We stayed hidden until we were sure he was gone. What scares me even more was that he had a young boy, maybe 14, 15 years old, with him. The entire time, the boy was not walking ahead or playing. He stayed near the man trailing behind him. Later that week, near our hotel, we saw him again. This time he was on the beach watching a British woman sitting by herself. My friend and I rushed over to warn her. She was grateful, but I couldn't shake the feeling that if we had not acted when we did, something terrible could have happened to us. What could he have possibly wanted? Has anything like this happened to anyone else in Marmaris or Turkey in general? What does this sound like to you? Please let me know. To start off, I'm a 27 year old male and at the time of this story I was either 18 or 19 right after high school, so I'm not 100% clear on the details. I had gotten a job doing house remodeling which required me to travel. I was usually gone for a week or two each month on average. The story happened while I was on my way home from one of those trips. I had stopped in a city about four, five hours away from my hometown to sleep for the night and had planned to drive the rest of the way home the next day. It was always just me and one other guy traveling together for these remodeling jobs. On this particular night, we had checked into a hotel around 10 or 11pm after working half the day and then driving to the city. At first everything was normal. I went to my room and my co worker went to his. I took a shower and got into bed around midnight or 1am falling asleep pretty quickly, I suddenly woke up to the hotel room phone ringing. I looked at my cell phone and it was about 3 or 4 in the morning. I laid there until the phone stopped ringing, unsure if I should answer it. After about 30 seconds to a minute, it stopped. I dozed back off shortly afterward, but 10, 15 minutes later I was woken up again by the phone ringing. This time I checked my phone and saw that I had a text from an unknown number. The message said something like, hey, is this so and so? This is Stacy. We had met at the bar tonight. Looking back, I probably shouldn't have replied, but I did. I then wrote, sorry, I think you have the wrong number. The person replied, but this is you from the bar, right? To which I just responded back with I was never at a bar tonight. And again, I think you have the wrong number. I put down my phone and tried to go back to sleep. But my phone lit up again. I looked and I saw five or six new texts from that same number. When I opened them, I realized that the person had sent me explicit photos. I immediately blocked the number and tried to go back to sleep. I dozed off again, but at some point, I suddenly woke up to a noise. At first I didn't know what it was. Then I realized someone was trying to open my hotel room door. Luckily, I'd put the chain lock on so they couldn't open it all the way. That's when I started to feel really uneasy. I stayed still in bed, trying not to make a sound or let whoever it was know that I was awake. The door eventually closed and everything went silent. About five minutes later, someone started knocking. I didn't answer at first, but. But the knocking just didn't stop. It literally went on for about five minutes. Finally, exhausted and frustrated, I got up and cracked the door open slightly to see who it was. In hindsight, that probably wasn't the smartest move. It turned out to be the front desk employee who had checked us in earlier that night. He told me that someone had left a message for me. I was half asleep and irritated and just told him something like, I don't know anyone who would leave me a message here. Please leave me alone. Then I shut the door. Looking back, I really wish I had asked what the message was. It really took me a while to fall back asleep. I was still shaken by the idea that someone had tried to open my door. What would have happened if the chain lock hadn't been on? Eventually, I fell back to sleep. The next morning, I had packed my stuff and went down to the lobby to meet my coworker so we could hit the road. As I walked past the front desk, that same employee was still there. We made eye contact and I got a weird feeling. But I was young and I didn't think much of it. I didn't tell anyone about what had happened. Years later, after hearing other stories, I had started to wonder if that hotel employee was involved in something more sinister. Possibly human trafficking or trying to act out some sick fantasy. He might have seen me as an easy target. A young guy not from the area traveling all alone. Maybe he got my number from the check in info and posed as a girl from a bar, hoping I'd invite her up to my room. When I blocked the number, he may have taken it a step further, made a key to my room and tried to get in. To this day, I really wonder what would have happened if I hadn't put that chain lock on the door. Would I even be here to tell this story? I know it's not the scariest story out there, I know, but it's a reminder to always be aware of your surroundings and I sincerely hope no one else was ever hurt or taken by that person. This happened about seven or so years ago. My family and I visited a lake in a state far away from our town for our first and last family reunion. Spoiler alert. It did not go well. Safe to say that the lack of AC during the hot summer month of July, different conflicting personalities and three families in one Airbnb caused a lot of tension and it all blew up on the 4th of July. After midnight, my mom got fed up and took me with her to stay at a hotel. I had a 100 degree fever and I was sick at the time. My sibling and my dad stayed at the house since they were enjoying themselves. We flew to the state so we didn't have a car and even if we did, it most likely would have been blocked in by other family members cars. After much squabbling about our means of transportation, my grandparents who lived in the same state as us, let my mom drive their car to go stay at an air conditioned hotel away from the family drama. My mom and I drove through the dark empty streets for a little while before we came across the motel, a familiar chain motel that we recognized on the side of the road. Since it was very late and my mom had a sick kid in the car, she had settled in staying there for the night. Pulling into the circular drive, we saw movement beneath the trees of an island in the middle of the asphalt. As my mom pulled into a driving spot, a man dressed in all camo smoking a cigarette emerged from the shadows of the island and once we got out of the car he asked, do y' all want a room? To which my mom responded yes, because why else would we be at a motel? It was a little odd that this man, who I assumed to be an employee, was wearing full camo hat, pants and a shirt, but not a uniform. We walked into a little lobby which was really just a small room with a computer and a front desk and a few armchairs. He walked behind the desk, clacking away on the computer as my mom described the room. We were would like a queen bed and non smoke room. The man nodded, commenting, are you two alone? And I can't remember if my mom responded, but he had handed us the key to the room, not a card like I was used to, but a literal keychain. I thought it was odd, but then just brushed it off as a regional difference. This town doesn't get as much traffic as the other popular cities around it, so maybe they just didn't have the budget or need for keycards. Then it got really unsettling. He tried to make small talk, asking about what we were doing here, how we were locking the fireworks, etc. And then he led us to our room on the first floor. Okay, that's not too bad, right? But then he opened our door and then led us into the room while showing us all around. The moment he opened the room, the sickening stench of smoke hit us even though we specifically asked for the non smoking room. He had started twisting the knob to the air conditioning, turning on the bathroom light and opening the closet door, showing us where everything was. This was a tiny room, big enough for one bed, a thin closet on the wall, and two little nightstands, so the tour was totally unnecessary. My mom stood outside of the room, arms crossed and almost on guard. I, being exhausted, stepped into the room holding my stuffy and blanket, ready to knock out and just go to bed. As the man walked into the bathroom, my mom finally spoke up. Hey, come here. Her tone was stern, one that sounded like the pursed lip warning many kids get when they're in trouble, but this one held a dangerous edge to it. The man came back out and was milling around the room when she repeated herself under her breath. I eventually gave in, rolling my eyes in annoyance as I left the room. She grabbed me the second I crossed the threshold and moved me behind her. We walked back to the lobby to find a new room that was truly non smoke and my mom made sure to stay between us while in the lobby he had made a comment that broke the camel's back. You two were very far away from home as they rang us up, holding onto my mom's credit card as she looked at her phone. Even though I was young, this comment made my stomach twist, but I couldn't understand why. Suddenly the lobby filled with ringing, the tone of my mom's ringtone echoing off the pale walls. Oh, just one minute. It's my husband, she said, holding up a finger to me as I prodded at her. The conversation went something like hello? Hi honey. Mom? Who is it? Why is dad calling my mom? Shushes me. We found a place. Oh, okay. Yeah, we'll see you there in a bit. Got it. Love you. Like the annoying kid I was, I was practically tugging at my mom's sleeve asking her where my sibling and dad were. Mom brushed me off, gesturing for me to grab her card as she informed the man that my husband and kid are down the road. They already checked into a room so we're going to go meet them. I'm still asking her about what was going on since I was now very confused as we made our way back to the car. I then flooded her with questions and she simply just looked forward, clasping my hand. I hopped into the back seat and we backed out quickly leaving the drive and in a nearly cinematic moment, my mom turns to me, finally answering my questions in the most jaw dropping manner for the ten year old me. I lied. Boom. I felt like my world exploded. I had always thought about stranger danger and kidnappers, but this was a whole new territory for me, one that most women would have to live through. Every waking moment. She filled me in as we drove winding through the roads down into the town. While I was busy thinking about falling into a smoky and dingy bed, my mom was in full on panic mode. Her mom instincts flared up the moment he opened the door for us, most likely trying to rationalize what was going on. Once we reached our room, easily accessed on the bottom floor with a key that the man most likely had a spear of and that did not meet our specifications, she devised a plan. While we made our way back to the lobby blabbing about a new room, she had been texting my dad, telling him where we were and to call her. Her worries were further confirmed with the man's strange and overly personal questions. The reality of the situation really began to set in for me, a little part of me that was still innocent and naive to the ways of the world cracking. In the end we found a safer hotel further into town with a pool at that, and we stayed there for the rest of our trip, later joined by my dad and sibling. Now onto the update that freaked me out even more. My sibling and I recently revisited the town with our grandparents for a quick family trip and we stayed at a house in the same lake where we had the reunion. On our way to the house, our car had passed the charred remains of a building, gates and caution tapes surrounding the area. My grandma pointed it out and informed us that it was the same motel that my mom and I had stayed at. It burned down in October of 2023 and I've scoured the Internet for any answers and I've found none. The name did change from when we first went, but I was still able to find it. Let me know if you want to know the name in the comments, I feel like the fact that it mysteriously burned down just adds to the unsettling experience my mom and I had there. After looking back at this moment with new, older eyes, I'm very, very glad that my mom got us out of there. She's not that I can remember, had a sort of feeling like that one since, and I've gained even more admiration for her. I will never know what would have happened if we had stayed. And to the man in the hotel, of course, let's not.