As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 015 - Online Dating and Subscriber Submitted Stories - 9 True Scary Stories
Episode Date: February 18, 2022Hello and Welcome to the 15th episode of The ATRD Podcast! Today we have some intriguing and terrifying stories submitted by everyday people. In Today's Episode we will have stories about Stalkers, Sk...in walkers, paranormal encounters, and the horrors of online dating. ➤ Want your story featured? Go to https://www.astheravendreams.com/Submit ➤ Want to know where to follow me on the internet? Go to https://www.astheravendreams.com/the-nevermore for all my links! ➤ You can also get EARLY ACCESS By joining my Patreon! https://patreon.com/astheravendreams Today's Video contains stories by the following Authors... Blake, Nicole R., Mona Lisa Rosenblatt, eas sent, Calvin B., and Authors that wished to remain anonymous. ➤ All stories within are used w/ Either direct permission from the author- or under some level of CC license (where noted) True Stories are not verified, and should all be considered 'supposedly true'. And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/support Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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And profite.
About 12 years ago, before I moved to the Midwest to transfer to a different school,
I worked as an intern for a local radio station in my area.
At the time, I was a 21-year-old college student and was hoping to land a career in voice acting
or some type of broadcasting.
I was able to land a job doing a three-year internship for a radio station,
and was hoping this would help me get my foot in the door.
For the first few months, my job mainly consisted of answering phone calls
and providing info on each caller to the DJs and hosts.
Soon after, the hosts actually allowed me to do some talking on the afternoon shows with them,
so I got to know some of the fans of the show.
It was a lot of fun, and I really enjoyed the interaction,
and being involved with the events and activities the radio station would participate in.
I quickly began to become familiar and acquainted with the fans who would regularly call in
and attend the various events that our station would host.
There was one fan in particular, who were going to call Stacey, for anonymity of the story,
that would call in frequently.
She would either request songs,
and participate in contests, or to ask general questions.
She would also attend a lot of events that I would be at with the station,
so she and I had gotten to know each other.
There was one time where she had won one of our contests,
and so I had to obtain her personal email to send her more information for her prize.
Shortly after that, she began emailing me through the email address that I used at the radio,
radio station.
Usually it was just a standard,
hey, insert radio station name here.
I just wanted to send a hello message to my favorite radio intern, Blake.
I hope you're having a good day, etc.
For the first few messages, I would be cordial and respond,
and then I eventually was allowed to create my own Facebook account
with the radio alias name so fans could interact with me.
Stacey, of course, had found my account and had sent me a friend request, and I added her back.
She would like and comment on nearly every single one of my posts, and at first, I didn't mind,
because I just chalked it up to her being a loyal fan to the radio show and the DJs.
In early July, our radio station hosted a small event in one of the local parks,
as a sort of a Fourth of July bash.
There would be food, games, prizes,
and a few small bands would be performing.
Stacey attended,
and as soon as she saw me standing with a few of the other radio hosts,
she made a beeline for us.
She and I chatted for a few minutes,
but I was also extremely busy working
and also saying hello to the other fans who had showed up.
I noticed that throughout the moment,
the entire event, Stacey didn't really seem interested in the bands that were playing or the
games. She mostly hung out near where I was set up and would just watch me, and I noticed that
she hadn't shown up with anybody else. One of the main hosts of our morning show also noticed
this, and pointed that out to me, and even teased me about her probably having a crush on me.
I brushed it off, but it did seem a bit odd that Stacey only seemed to be interested in talking to me the entire time.
As the event wrapped up towards the end of the night, Stacey was still pretty much glued to my side.
I tried to be as polite as possible, but I had definitely become more aware of her clinginess,
as well as notice her attitude, had seemed to change whenever another female fan or call.
colleague would talk to me.
As we packed up all of our equipment and items after the night was over, I told Stacy
thanks for coming and that I hoped that she had a good time.
As I started heading towards my car, she started walking behind me, as if she was wanting
to continue chatting.
I was exhausted from the day's event, and I wanted to get the equipment back to the station
so I could just go home.
I said goodbye to her one more time, and she stepped forward, and reached out her arms gesturing for a hug.
I felt a little odd about this, so for a few awkward seconds I just stood there and finally just wanting to get rid of her.
I stepped in and gave her a quick pat on the back and told her to have a good night.
She held on and embraced me in this long,
uncomfortable hug.
And once I pulled away,
she then asked if it would be too much trouble
if I could drive her home.
I stood there,
dumbfounded.
She had hung around talking to me all night
and now had waited until the night was over
to ask for a ride home.
I sort of stammered
and asked her how she managed to get her ride here
to attend the event earlier.
And she says,
Oh, I drove myself, but I'm just feeling a little tired,
and I don't think it'd be safe for me to drive when I'm this tired.
I told her that, while I normally wouldn't mind giving her a ride,
I was exhausted, and my car was already packed with all the stuff
and set up equipment from the day's event,
and really, I just wanted to get it all back to the station so I could go home.
She looked a bit disappointed,
but finally said she understood and started to turn and head towards the other cars in the parking lot.
I thought that was that, and 30 minutes later, I was finally home and ready to get some sleep, when my phone went off.
I checked it, and I saw it was a Facebook chat message from Stacey.
She wrote,
I had a really fun time with you tonight, thanks for making it such a memorable night,
X-O-X-O.
I didn't know how or what to respond to that,
and I was too tired to think of a response,
so I left it on red and went to sleep.
When I woke up the next morning,
I saw that I had more messages from Stacey,
as well as a Facebook notification,
that she had updated her relationship status to
In a Relationship,
with me,
which needed me to accept the status change.
I read through the messages that she had sent me.
They ranged from,
had such a great time with you last night,
hard emojis,
to can't sleep, been up all night thinking about you,
to can't wait to see you today.
This was too much for me.
I messaged her back telling her that,
while I enjoyed being friendly acquaintances with her as a fan of the radio,
show, there was and will be absolutely no romantic relationship between us.
I apologized if my actions had somehow misled her to think there was something more going on between us,
but I had to kindly reject her advances.
I saw that she had opened the messages, but did not immediately respond.
I thought that was that, and went about my day.
Later that evening, I went to my parents' house for dinner and had to spend some time with my family.
My younger sister, Kara, who still lived at home, was also there, and while we were all sitting around chatting, she checked her phone.
She asked me if I knew a person named Stacy and had mentioned that she had sent her a friend request.
I immediately felt sick to my stomach and let out an annoyed sigh.
Kara then told me that Stacey had sent her a direct message on Facebook
and had told her she was dating her brother
and thought that it would be nice to add her as well so she could get to know my family.
This both creeped me out and pissed me off.
I thought I had made it very clear to Stacey in my last message
that there was nothing going on between us.
And then also to add to the creepo fact,
I had never talked to her about my family members.
I told my sister about Stacey and what she'd been up to,
and she advised me to block her and cut off all communications right away.
She blocked her as well, so she couldn't send her any more messages.
I pulled out my phone and sent another long message to Stacey,
once again, telling her to please stop trying to reach out to my family members
and repeated that there is still no relationship between us.
I told her it was fine if she was still a fan of the radio show,
but she needed to stop telling people that we were in a relationship.
From there, I didn't even bother to give her a chance to respond to my message,
and I blocked her account.
I had hoped that this was the end of it,
and by the time I had gotten to the station on Monday morning,
it was out of my mind.
Up until the lead host of the radio show pulled me aside.
He told me that a fan named Stacy had applied for another intern position we had opened for the radio station,
and that she had referenced me as a referral.
She also added that she and I were dating,
and that I had told her to apply for the intern spot.
I was shocked.
I quickly updated the host that I was in fact not dating this person
and had never told her about the new intern position nor to apply for it.
I told him that she was basically stalking me ever since the summer event the station hosted last weekend,
and that I had actually blocked her and kindly told her to leave me alone.
The host informed me that they would not be proceeding with hiring Stacey
and advised me to be extra cautious with die-hard fans,
as there are situations like this that can happen.
Throughout the day, I was a nervous wreck,
and was barely able to focus on my work.
I kept worrying every time the phone would ring at the station,
that it would be Stacy calling.
For the next couple of days, nothing else happened,
and I was starting to get optimistic again
that the issue was resolved.
However, on Friday night, as I was walking out to my car,
I saw that the driver's side door had a huge scratch on it.
Someone had taken a screwdriver and intentionally carved a long, deep scratch into the paint.
I was shocked and livid at the same time.
And like a clueless idiot, I stood there for a few minutes,
looking around the parking lot.
I called the station manager and informed them of what was happening and what had just been
done to my car.
Unfortunately, there were no security cameras in the parking lot, so there was most likely no way
to show who exactly did this.
I drove home, making sure to be extra cautious of my surroundings, and was constantly checking
my rear-view mirror to make sure I wasn't being followed.
I texted my sister and told her what had happened.
She told me not to unblock Stacy and reach out to her,
no matter how angry I was, as this would only be playing into her game further.
She told me to document everything else that happened and to be careful.
Later that night, I got a new notification on my Instagram and saw that I had a new follower.
Yep, you guessed it.
It was Stacy.
She'd sent me a message on Instagram, which said,
I think we need to get together and talk.
Despite my sister's warnings not to respond to anything,
I messaged her back asking what she thinks we would need to talk about,
adding, is that why you left a huge scratch on my car today?
She responded with,
We need to stop this stupid fight we're having.
I want us to work things out.
I was speechless.
This girl was completely delusional and still under the impression that we were in a relationship.
I noticed that she was being clever by not admitting overtext that she was the one who had keyed my car,
even though I was 100% positive it was her.
I still ended up screenshoting the messages from her and proceeded to block her on Instagram.
I was pretty much on edge after this, worrying about her calling in at the steep.
or if she would end up randomly showing up at work or tried to do anything else to my car.
Stacey did end up calling the station a few times, each time requesting to talk to me.
By now the rest of the staff at the station had known about her and had denied her from talking to me each time she'd called.
She had tried to get through by telling them that she was my girlfriend, and that it was either an urgent issue or imperative that she speaks to me.
Every time the person answering the phone would deny her from talking to me and would end the call after.
Over the next month, this was a normal occurrence.
I was very fortunate that my boss and the staff at the radio station were so understanding and supportive,
but in all honesty, I was miserable.
It is a terrible feeling, feeling as if you constantly have to be looking over your shoulder every time you go out,
or getting a sick feeling in your stomach every time you're told that your stalker had just phoned you at work.
The radio station manager had actually contacted the police and asked what could be done about the situation.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much that could be done about this unless Stacey were to actually do something in person.
And although she had most likely been the one to key my car, there was no proof or evidence that she had.
done it.
Lucky for me, the story pretty much does end there.
About two months later, I ended up transferring and moving to a different college in the fall,
and I didn't end up hearing from or seeing Stacey anymore.
I know the story doesn't have a super terrifying or frightening ending, but for those few
short months during that summer, it was extremely stressful and was definitely affecting
my mental health for a while.
I'm just glad that Stacey didn't end up trying to contact me, but I sincerely hope that
by now, after almost 13 years later, she didn't end up doing this to someone else,
or that she got the help that she needed.
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So,
I have a story about
one time
a person I met
on one of those
dating apps
was a bit more
than I was looking
for. Like, a lot more. I will say that I'm an avid Tinder user, and I prefer to keep my options
open when it comes to significant others. I spend a lot of my time working. I have a main career,
and I also have a hobby or side gig, however you choose to look at it, that makes me a decent
amount of money. Because I spend so much time on them, I don't have a lot of, I don't have a
lot of free time to go out and meet new people, or spend a lot of time at the bar scene.
Obviously, I'm the go-getter, always on the run, no time to spare targets demographic,
for those dating and hook-up apps. I also use self-deprecating humor to cope with things,
so my apologies if any of this comes across as personally degrading.
I have a penchant for laughing at myself a lot.
And it kind of makes me feel better about the situation.
Laughing keeps me from crying about it, I guess.
So, anyways, back when I was hard into dating people online,
I would swipe on pretty much anyone that I thought was attractive.
And if we'd matched, there would be the initial awkward conversation,
and if they could get past that, we would set up a time to meet.
There were a few good ones, but this story is about a gentleman named Charles,
though he was more affectionately known as Chuck.
Chuck was older than me by about 10 or so years,
and I thought that, because of this, he would be a bit more grown up and a bit easier to talk to.
We matched, and in our first conversation, he seemed like he was a good guy that had
a lot to talk about.
He said he worked at a local library, and that he was the front desk person that
assisted anyone that needed help.
In my opinion, this seemed like a rather reserved job, one that someone that has their
head in the right place would have to do.
His hobbies were riding and cooking, and he also liked to take road trips to places
that were a bit outside local, so like a few hours at most.
I learned all of this in the first conversation, mostly because this guy seemed like an open book.
He wanted me to know everything about him, right then and there.
And I didn't get much of a word in edgewise.
I was actually kind of okay with this, as I wasn't much of a talker.
I like to listen to others and learn their story.
I know, I'm a bit all over the place.
I want to know everything about everyone, but also not be tied down with someone long term.
The second conversation that we had, it was a lot more aggressively flirtatious.
Chuck basically told me that he wanted things to move fast between us,
and that we should meet up that night.
When he said, that night, it was already five in the evening,
so he basically meant that.
that we should meet up right then.
I had to tell him that I wasn't yet at a point where I was wanting to meet up or go any further than a few conversations.
But if he wanted to move on and not chat with me anymore, I would understand.
He told me that he could slow it down for me if that's what I wanted.
And we talked a bit more.
But of course, he was still really pushy, sneaking in a...
So when do you think you would want to get together every once in a while?
I would change the subject and he would ask again in another way later in the conversation.
This went on for a few days.
A few more conversations and I basically had to tell him straight up that I thought it was best that we didn't keep it going.
Obviously, what I was wanting wasn't the same as what he was wanting and it wasn't going to work.
This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.
As I got hit with several derogatory comments from him,
including a number of slurs,
and the things he told me to do with myself were unsavory at best.
I basically sent him a,
I'm no longer interested, thanks for showing me who you really are.
And I blocked him, and his number.
There were plenty of other guys out there that I could talk to, and I didn't have time for that level of aggression in my life.
And, with that, I thought that my time knowing Chuck was over.
But of course it wasn't.
Instead, that's where things started to get out of hand.
When this had all transpired, I was still working at a local coffee shop that my parents owned.
Also, at the time of this happening, I hadn't yet come out to my parents.
I would guess they had a feeling that I wasn't straight, but we hadn't actually talked about it,
nor did I know their feelings about it.
I wasn't ready to tell them, they weren't ready to talk to me about it,
and we just kind of coexisted.
That is, until about a week after the whole thing with Chuck happened.
I was working the register, ringing people up, when, during a rush, a man came up to the register with a big smile on his face.
You can guess that it was Chuck, but at the time, he just kind of looked familiar, and I didn't realize that it was him.
I took his order, and I asked him for his name, and he replied with, it's me, Chuck.
and I could literally feel the color drain out of my face.
Of all the coffee shops that existed,
including the much more popular big-name shops around, like Starbucks,
he chose this coffee shop.
At first, the coincidence of it was kind of sickening,
but then part of me started feeling like it wasn't a coincidence.
Like he was here with purpose.
Like he knew that I worked here somehow.
I hadn't told him where I worked.
I hadn't even mentioned that I worked at a coffee shop.
But yet, here he was.
I kind of faked a smile.
I told him his total and said,
Oh, it's nice to see you,
cheapishly while pushing his cup down the line to my mom.
He just kept his stupid grubes.
grin the entire time she made the coffee.
I excused myself and had one of the other employees take over the register while I ran to the
restroom in the back.
I stood there for a few minutes in the bathroom, and I tried to breathe my way through a panic
attack.
After a few minutes, my mom knocked on the door and asked if I was all right.
I just told her I wasn't feeling well, and I opened the door to leave the bathroom.
when she asked me who that guy was.
I tried to play stupid, but she said that, after I walked away,
he started talking about me to her the whole time that she was making his drink.
And apparently, he had a lot of things to say.
I told her that he was just a friend, and she retorted with,
well, he said he was your boyfriend.
If I may say, this is not how I wanted to talk to my mother about my sexuality,
standing in a coffee shop bathroom, feeling like I was going to puke.
That aside, I did talk to her about it.
And I won't detail the conversation, I'll just say that it went better than I hoped it would.
I then explained to her that this guy was not my boyfriend,
just some guy that I had talked to for a few days,
and that I had to block him because he was a bit too much for me.
This was surprising to her,
mostly because this guy seemed to know everything about me.
He obviously knew I worked there.
He knew that my parents owned the place.
He knew where I went to high school,
what I was studying in my college courses,
and he basically told her about days that we had spent together,
and places we had gone on dates,
which were all completely and totally fabricated.
He mentioned things that had literally never happened between us
in the four or five days that we spoke to each other.
But he was, apparently, rather convincing,
because my mom thought that he and I had been together for a while
based on what he was telling her.
It took a lot of convincing,
but she eventually believed me that this guy was off his rocker, and that I barely knew him.
After all this, I took a minute to unblock him, and I messaged him telling him that he needed to leave me alone.
And I may have called him a few names for lying to my mother.
He just responded with the heart emoji, so I blocked him and moved on again.
A couple days later, I went to get the mail from my mother.
apartment and I noticed an envelope with no return address nor postage on the envelope.
It had my name on it and then also had a little heart sticker in the middle.
I had a feeling I knew who it was from and I opened it just to confirm.
Sure enough, it was from Chuck.
Only, this wasn't a letter.
Remember how I mentioned that Chuck liked to write?
This thing that he had hand delivered to my mailbox was a several-page fan-fiction of our relationship.
He had written a several-page-long erotic story about us, which would have been creepy in and of itself,
but he ended it all with the personal note about how when he was done with me,
he would just discard me and no one would ever know.
He almost used those words exactly.
When I'm finished, I will discard you, and no one will ever find your body.
Obviously, I went to the police with this.
I told them who it was, where he worked, I showed them the text conversations,
and I told them about how he had showed up at my work.
They took the note, and my information, and that was about the end of the conversation.
They really didn't seem too interested in the situation,
apparently, and they said they would patrol my area over the next few nights,
and if they saw anything suspicious, they would let me know.
So I left, just feeling incredibly dejected and invalidated about this whole mess.
Every single day after that, I kind of felt paranoid.
I was feeling like Chuck was going to show up at my door to make his little fiction a reality by force.
he thankfully never did
and I know that's a really bad way
to end a story about this whole ordeal
but that's actually where he stopped
I don't know if the cops went and spoke with him
or if he just had a change of heart
but I never heard from him again after this
there was one point about a year or so later
when I graduated
and started working in my field
that I did get a card in the mail with no return address.
That basically just said,
congrats.
And I think it was from him,
but nothing ever came of it all.
It was basically just him being a creep,
somehow knowing every single thing about me
despite me never telling him,
sending me that creepy letter slash story,
and then moving on.
To be honest,
I'm actually rather grateful that my ordeal ended in an uneventful way
because I hate to think of what he would have done
had he been a little more inclined to follow through.
A few years ago, I decided to try online dating.
I had a few passes and a few that went nowhere,
but I thought I was finally getting lucky when I met Sarah.
I used a site where the guy had to mark interested in someone, and if the girl was interested,
then she could message them to initiate.
I guess it made for less harassment.
I had a few pass me up or ignore me, which was fine.
I know I'm not everyone's type.
So I marked interested in Sarah, and I waited.
I almost gave up when I didn't get a response for about a week,
but she did finally message me.
We talked for a while.
She apologized for not responding sooner,
and we even joked about how annoying online-slash-blind dating is
and how our friends always pressured us to find someone.
I've had a few prior dates where they just talked for a few weeks before they were willing to even meet in person,
so I was pretty surprised when she wanted to meet up about a week or so in.
She chose the place for the first date, which turned out to be some kind of festival the county over from her.
It was like a small pop-up carnival with a bunch of different food trucks and games, mostly for kids.
It was kind of awkward at first, as the only place to really sit and talk were these little chairs and tables the trucks sat up next to them.
We kind of walked around the trucks, awkwardly trying to decide what we wanted to get.
and then we sat down and started to talk a little bit more.
After a bit, and when the conversation started tapering off, we decided to leave.
I walked her to her car, and she asked me if I enjoyed myself.
I told her, yeah.
She said she was surprised that I was actually willing to come out here and that I showed up,
mentioning that she does a weird first date as a test,
to see if the date is actually interested in her and getting to know her,
or if they just want a one-night stand.
That's definitely not what I was interested in,
and it was definitely not the weirdest date that I'd been on,
so I didn't see anything wrong with it.
So we agreed to keep talking and maybe go on another,
maybe a more formal date, and we went our separate ways.
After a few days, she was already wanting to go out again.
I suggested a restaurant that had opened or reopened recently.
The original location burned down, and they reopened in a different area.
It was a local restaurant, so there wasn't another one we could go to,
so I hadn't been since it had reopened, and I offered to take her there.
She asked me the same thing about how I knew this place,
and I told her that I went there prior to it being reopened and moving.
We got there, got our seats, and we started talking.
I heard my name being called.
I turned around, and, of all people, I saw my ex in the restaurant's uniform.
Our split was mutual.
We just didn't really click and didn't have the same goals, so we decided to end it.
There weren't any hard feelings.
We chatted briefly with the how-ar-yous, and then I introduced her to Sarah, and vice versa.
She took our drinks, and I asked about the teas they had,
and she steered me away from one of them because it had a strawberry extract in it.
I thanked her, and we continued on our date.
I then explained to Sarah that I was deathly allergic to strawberries,
to the point that I could go into anaphylactic shock,
so I was glad that my ex...
Molly warned me.
She seemed quiet at first, but then I noticed as the night progressed,
she would become more flirtatious and loud and hands-on,
touching my arm and hand and just things like that.
So to me, it seemed like dinner went really well.
As we started heading out to our cars, though,
feeling good about tonight,
she stopped me in the middle of what I was saying,
and said, I thought you've never been here before.
I was kind of thrown off about this question at first,
because I didn't understand why she was asking it.
So I then explained to her that I had been there prior to the fire
and them relocating, so it had been almost a year.
She then made some kind of comment about my ex working there
and how she thought it was convenient that I would take her there of all places.
I tried explaining to her that I had no idea she worked here, as stated the place had gone,
and I really didn't even know they were going to come back, let alone where Molly was working.
I hadn't talked to her in months, but we hadn't been together even longer than that.
She still seemed a bit standoffish at the time, but I tried being reasonable with her,
and also tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.
I legit had no idea that she worked there, and I wasn't interested in her or causing any kind of drama, and not to mention I was liking Sarah.
I asked her if she wanted to do something else, like get dessert, walk around, just anything really to just chill.
But she really couldn't get past the whole X thing, I guess, and said she just wanted to go home.
I didn't want to push it.
And I really didn't want to fight with someone that I barely knew, so I agreed.
I asked her again if she wanted to do something again soon,
and she said she'll think about it, and then left.
So I went home, slightly cringing at the thought of this not smoothing over and being back to square one.
It was exactly one week when she finally responded to me.
I messaged her a few times, just saying good morning or asking her how her did,
was because we had done that many times prior, but she didn't respond.
I didn't want to be that guy, so after no responses the first two days, I stopped reaching out,
thinking it was over at this point.
That Friday, though, she actually messaged me back.
She said she needed some time to think it over if I was being honest, and realized that
she was probably overreacting.
and that she wanted to make up for it by making me dinner.
She invited me to her place and said that she would make food.
I felt bad, and I didn't want her to do everything,
so I offered to pick up drinks and dessert.
She accepted the drinks, but said that she had dessert covered as well.
I thought, why not?
I was getting a free home-cooked meal, so it was the least I could do,
but just to make it right, I decided to even buy her flowers.
I showed up, looking my best, and when she opened the door, I was hit with the smell of garlic
and greeted by a beautiful smile.
She waved me in and grabbed the flowers pretty quickly, and she hugged me.
She then showed me where to set the wine, and then we just kind of talked for a bit.
This girl had made us a chicken Alfredo bake for just the two of us.
She remembered when I said it was my favorite, and that just made my day.
I thought for sure that this was going to work out for us.
I helped her put together the salads, pour our drinks, and we sat and had a fantastic dinner.
After a few glasses of wine and talking, we finally finished our dinner, and she exclaimed that she almost forgot about dessert.
Before I could get up to help, she took the plates and headed off to the kitchen.
telling me to stay put.
And that's when she brought in this really exquisite cheesecake.
It had chocolate curls on the top and had red swirls throughout it.
I thought maybe she had bought it until she said that she had made it.
Again, I was impressed.
A woman after my heart.
However, I see red in desserts, especially cakes,
and I have to make sure to ask,
is this strawberry, though?
To which she made sure to explain that it was strictly cherries,
and said that she made it all herself to make sure there was no chance of contamination.
Again, she seemed to remember the Alfredo thing and was adamant on this, so I trusted her,
and we enjoyed our dessert.
I took a few bites, and from what I'd had, it was delicious.
It tasted perfect.
until I realized I couldn't taste it anymore.
I started feeling like I was also clearing my throat a lot,
and then started feeling this weird tingling or burning sensation.
I again asked her to confirm,
you didn't put anything strawberry in this right?
And she again confirmed that she hadn't.
I was starting to worry at this point because everything else had been fine.
there was nothing wrong up until I ate the cheesecake.
The problem was, and when I say I'm allergic, again, it's not like a small rash.
It started feeling like it was hard to breathe, so I told her I needed to go to the hospital.
And that's when I noticed she was just staring at me with a blank look on her face,
so I confirmed, you did put strawberries in this, didn't you?
and of all the reactions to this she gave me that same angry look from the restaurant and said well i thought you were lying about the strawberry thing too just to get her to talk to you more so i wanted to test it great she didn't believe me that i had an allergy of all things i could have been lying about and now i feel like i'm about to die i'm a little angrier at this point and i yelled at her to her to her to her to her and i'm a little angrier at this point and i yelled at her to her to her to her to her.
to take me to the hospital before I died on her floor,
and after dragging ass for several minutes grabbing her stuff and pretty much just pouting,
and she took me.
Thankfully, it didn't take long for us to get there,
and they were immediately able to get me back and under control,
but I lost a few hours there going in and out of consciousness,
peering from my life and being rather angry.
After all this, I start to head out feeling weak,
and exhausted and she is nowhere to be found.
I checked my phone to confirm this to see that she had texted me,
saying that she was going to go back to clean up the food at her place.
That's what her concern was.
Her table and her counter.
Not the guy that she almost killed.
I had my friend come pick me up and take me back to her place so I could at least get
my car and go home.
She texted me the next day asking how I was doing.
doing, and I told her I was fine, and she asked if I wanted to do something again since she felt I was being honest, and that I had actually earned her trust.
Great. All it took was nearly killing me.
Guess I can trust her now. I tried to politely decline, but she apparently doesn't take rejection well.
We never saw each other again.
So there's my crazy dating story.
Now, I'm even more cautious about my allergies,
and I have trouble trusting anyone but friends and family that are close to make food for me.
I just hope that her next date doesn't have any allergies that he tells her about.
I want to preface this whole thing with,
When you're lonely, sometimes you do desperate and stupid things.
I am prepared to be made fun of, but I also think that some things weren't expected, and let's face it.
It was also a learning experience.
This was a few years back.
I was in a fairly serious relationship then.
I was really into this girl and was actually planning on proposing to her when I found out that she had been cheating on me.
To add to it, before I could confront her about it,
she left me, taking all of her stuff from my place while I was at work.
I was pretty depressed and feeling sorry for myself for a good while,
as my friends tried to cheer me up.
They took me out partying to dinners,
and they even invited me to a bachelor party that also had dancers there,
and I will say that was the most fun that I'd had in a while,
and I don't know what changed in me,
but then I started thinking,
what was wrong with living like that?
As long as both sides were happy,
I didn't need to have a long-term closed-off relationship, right?
And from then on, I didn't.
I partied more.
I had the free time to do so,
because my ex was also very controlling.
I had one-night stands,
I had bad hangovers,
but it was always in fun.
Then, I started using hookup apps, and that made it even easier to find plenty of encounters and parties.
And that's what led me here.
So I matched with someone, and we started talking for a bit.
I looked at her profile and noticed that not only did she describe herself and what she was into,
she gave very specific details on her, perfect guy.
That included long golden hair, blue to gray eyes, no shorter than six foot, and also willing to do anything for her.
So, the description seemed to fit me to a T, at least the physical side of it, but maybe not so much the second part.
Again, my profile did say I was not looking for serious relationships, so I always get a bit hesitant.
when they start asking about that stuff or going out on dates.
However, in this case, she said she understood my situation and was down for it too,
but said she still wanted to hang out first and promised it would be worth my time.
I thought, well, why not then?
And we scheduled a time for that Friday.
We met up at a local bar and grill and had drinks and wings.
No fancy dinner or anything like that, so I was already starting to loosen up.
After a few drinks, we started talking about ourselves.
Normal things, like what we did for work, what we liked to do for fun, things like that.
Then, she started asking me weird questions.
She asked me if I was religious or if I believed in any higher being.
Then, hard left, she asked me if I liked horror movies.
She also asked me if I was good with blood and gore and what my blood type was.
Just really weird questions.
Again, I was already feeling a bit tipsy, so I answered them the best I could.
After a few minutes, she excused herself to the restroom and came back, asking me if I wanted to
go back to her place.
I agreed, and I followed her there in my car.
When we walked in, there were two more girls that looked about the same age as my date
sitting on the couch and watching TV.
When we walked in, they both immediately looked over at me smiling.
My date introduced me to them as her sisters, and they offered me a seat on the couch.
I could see where this was going pretty quickly.
as they offered me drinks and the four of us all sat around talking and flirting.
However, I was getting pretty wasted, as my head felt like it was spinning, more so than usual.
However, the girls were still having fun, and my date was starting to usher me to her room.
And we started walking back there, and as I laid on the bed, she turned out the lights.
I laid there in the dark as I started hearing her giggle,
crawling onto the bed, and as she got to my torso, I felt a very sharp pain in my left shoulder.
It was the worst pain I had ever felt, and combining that with being intoxicated,
I didn't really know what to do or how to process this.
I started trying to get up, but she was holding me down.
Thankfully, I was still able to overpower her and get up, and as I got to the door and opened it,
The other two girls were standing right there and looked just as shocked.
I started explaining to them what happened,
and that's when I noticed there was a knife in my shoulder.
However, they weren't there to help me, but to help their sister.
They tried to stop me from leaving, saying crazy crap about being a gift to their father.
I will say, I pushed one to the ground and the other one tried to get her sister up.
Within this time, I pulled the knife out of my shoulder, as she wasn't strong enough for it to go in too far, and I was swinging it around at them.
They managed to stay where they were as I ran out of that house.
I ran as fast as I could to the house across from them, banging on the door entirely unaware of what time it was.
Thankfully, a confused old man answered, and before he could think, I rushed into his house.
asking for a phone.
I'm sure he must have seen all the blood and quickly took off into another room.
I could hear him talking to someone and then asking me for my name, but I had pretty much
passed out at that point.
The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital with a cop asking me what the
hell had happened.
I was glad to explain everything to him, which started making more sense to me as to why
she was asking such weird questions.
I explained to them where they lived, and they told me that they had gone there, but the place
was empty, as in the girls were gone, and so was my phone.
They found my car keys, and my car was still there, surprisingly, but they had taken my phone.
I did file a police report, of course, but as far as I know, they still have not found those
girls.
That house didn't even belong to them.
apparently one of them was a maid or a cleaner or something so they had a key to the place,
but they weren't supposed to be there at night.
I, unfortunately, do have a lasting reminder of my stupidity.
I actually can't lift my arm up very high without pain,
but I'm definitely more cautious now about my hookups.
If I'm outnumbered, then I'm out.
And if they ask weird questions, then I'm out.
These are the things that my parents didn't teach me crowing up.
I've been wanting to share this story for a while, but I wasn't really sure of where to go.
But after listening to some of the stories on your channel, I think you could tell this story well enough.
It's a bit different from the normal stories that you do, but I think your listeners will enjoy it.
I have a story from way back whenever I was a teenager.
I won't mention where I lived at the time,
mostly because I don't want people to look too far into it
and potentially bother the people that still live in the area.
And there's a reason for that.
Back when I was around 18 or so,
which would have been in the mid-80s,
I was dating a girl that was Native American.
And she lived with her family.
on native land.
Just to add, though it's not super relevant,
we are actually married now,
and we no longer live on the land,
but do live in a city nearby.
Now, some people in her family had a major issue with us dating.
I'm not native at all.
In fact, I'm mostly Hispanic,
but her parents accepted me as if I was their son-in-law from day one.
They were and are super loving people
And they saw that their daughter and I loved one another
And that that's what mattered
Now back when I was this age
I would often spend a day
Or the whole weekend with her and her parents
It would just hang out and do whatever they had planned
So long as it didn't require time with the people of her tribe
And like I said
Her parents accepted me but
I was looked at a bit differently, and I totally get that.
For the most part, as long as I didn't insert myself into their dealings,
they didn't really have much to say to me.
During the last summer, before she and I tied the knot,
I was staying with her family pretty much full time,
as by this point, they already knew we were planning on getting married.
I remember that while sleeping in her room,
I kept hearing something scratching at the wall by the window.
It was almost like a cat or a raccoon was trying to climb its way up to the glass.
I remember that it was rather subtle,
and I would mention it to her dad that they had a raccoon that liked to come around at night.
He told me that he hadn't heard anything or even noticed any signs of a raccoon,
but that he would set up a catch trap to see if he could maybe get him away.
away from the house.
I agreed and moved on, thinking that that would be the end of it.
The same night that he set up the trap,
I heard what sounded like the cage for the release trap being smashed
or hit by something large,
and I wasn't really willing to go outside,
mostly because I was thinking it was something trying to get at the small animal that he had caught,
maybe.
I just remember thinking,
Well, that can't be good for anything that was in the trap, and then going back to sleep.
The next morning we went out and checked the trap, and no joke, it was completely destroyed.
And when I say destroyed, it almost looked like someone had run over it with a car.
I asked her dad what could have caused that,
and he basically told me not to be concerned about it and to just forget.
get it. At first I was a bit taken back, but I had to remember that this man held very deep
beliefs that I didn't personally understand, and maybe this was a situation of not speaking about
the thing or mentioning it by name. I nodded in understanding, and just told him that hopefully
it would just go away. And it did for a while. There was a bit of a stretch where there wasn't any
scratching at the window or really any noise outside the house for a bit.
But about a month after the event with the trap, I woke up in the middle of the night to hear
someone speaking. I could hear a voice, but I couldn't really make out what was being said,
like they were speaking with their backs turned to the window in a really quiet tone.
I sat up thinking maybe it was her father and looked to her.
out the window to see if I could see him, but all I could see was what looked like someone
standing at a nearby tree and staring in my direction.
In my half-asleep stupor, I stared for a few moments and thought maybe it was him or
one of her siblings or something, but then it got weird.
While I was staring, I started hearing whatever or whoever this was,
say my name.
Now that wouldn't normally be a huge deal.
Everyone in the area knew who I was,
so maybe it could be someone trying to get my attention outside.
The problem was that the person's voice,
the voice that was calling my name from outside,
was my fiancée's,
the woman that was clearly out cold lying right next to me.
I could hear it clear as day saying my name,
almost in an inquisitive tone.
It was kind of like it was being playful and calling to me.
I shook my fiancé awake without making too much movement,
and I asked her if she heard what I was hearing.
She paused for a moment and said,
It's probably just an owl or something.
Go back to sleep.
I just kind of put my head back down and stared up at the ceiling the entire night,
while this thing kept randomly calling,
for me. I tried to ignore it, but part of me seriously felt like if I went to sleep,
it was going to show up at the window. It eventually stopped when the morning came, and when I looked
back outside, that figure out by the tree was gone. It was seriously creepy as hell to me. I have
no idea what it was, and I didn't ask her nor her dad, mostly because I didn't want to invite it
further into my life by knowing more about it.
That was the last night that I heard anything outside the window, and the only time that I ever
heard it talking. We did move away a few years after, but I never mentioned this to her parents.
I did tell her, and she laughed at me, saying that I had been watching way too many scary movies.
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This happened back in the first week of the year 2000.
At the time, my husband was a supervisor for a large railroad company.
The phone was constantly ringing, even after work hours,
because there was always trouble on that railroad,
and my husband is the type that can't say no.
He would always answer the calls and troubleshoot the problems with the maintainers on the phone.
A lot of the time he would even go out into the field to help them in person.
So, in short, nine times out of ten, if the phone rang, it was one of my husband's workers.
One day, it was after work hours and my husband, myself and our two daughters were watching TV in the living room.
I'd just gotten up to use the bathroom, and the phone rang.
Now, remember, this is the year 2000.
Cell phones were not that mainstream yet.
My husband did have a work cell, but he usually left it in the truck,
knowing the workers would just call the landline if he didn't answer the cell.
When the phone rang, since I was already walking by it, I said I would get it.
I picked up the phone and said,
hello? There was a thick static, very loud.
Hello, I repeated. I heard a very, very faint voice at the other end of the line.
It was a male voice, but I couldn't make out what he was saying.
I said, I can't hear you.
I told my husband that I think one of his men must be in a bad coverage zone trying to call him.
He told me to just hang up and let me.
them call back, but I felt like I shouldn't.
The voice, it sounded somewhat scared.
So I tried again.
I said, can you speak louder?
I can't hear you.
Then, the voice was way more clear.
The man yelled, Lisa.
Now, needless to say, I'm freaking the hell out at this point.
My husband's co-workers did not know me like that.
They called me Ms. Rosenblatt.
On top of that, the voice rang a familiar bell.
I thought to myself, I think I know this voice.
As I'm thinking this, the voice again screams my name.
Lisa!
That's when I recognized it.
It was my father.
He was my estranged father because he had been an abusive alcoholic.
He beat my mother and abused my sister and I.
The thing is, he had died of cancer,
cancer two weeks prior.
I freaked.
I slammed the phone down immediately hanging up.
I could feel the color draining from my face.
My husband jumped up and ran over to me asking what was wrong.
My throat was dry and my heart was racing, but I said,
it was my father.
My husband said, are you sure it wasn't someone that just sounded like him?
He's dead, remember?
I said,
of course I remember, but I know his voice.
I heard it my entire childhood.
In the days following, my husband asked all of his men if they had called our home phone on that day at that time.
None of them had.
I couldn't get the sound of the way his voice was desperate and panicked out of my head.
I thought about it constantly for days.
I swear, and I know this sounds nuts, but I think my father was calling him.
me from hell.
I am a Christian, and I believe in forgiveness, so a couple of days after the phone call, I dropped
to my knees in prayer.
I asked God to spare my father, and that I forgave him for everything he did to me in our family.
Of course, I can't know the outcome of my prayer, but it gave me peace, and I do sincerely hope
my father is in a better place.
I moved into this place in 2016 with my nine-year-old son,
and I lived there until 2019.
This was early 2018.
There was an apartment about two down from mine and a cross.
For almost two years, it was always being painted,
or at least it always smelled like paint and chemicals.
They were coming from the door, seeping into the hallway.
Sometimes they had painters coming to.
in and out of the building, and I assumed they went there, but they never seemed to be going in
and out of that specific apartment. One day, at the front foyer, I noticed a condemned sticker
ripped half off of that apartment. I contemplated bugs or drug house, or even a murder could have
happened. I mean, who paints an apartment for almost two years. Eventually, a family of four or five
moved in, I'm not exactly sure how many as I didn't talk to them much, other than a high in the
hallways, while getting the mail.
There was definitely two children, a mother and a father, that lived there.
We live in the ghetto of my city, Calgary, Alberta, Canada, so it's not unusual for police
or firemen, or even an ambulance, to be heard or seen.
I hear pounding on a door in a man frantically asking his children,
or someone.
He wasn't speaking English, as many immigrants do live in my building.
It was maybe ten at night or so.
I looked out my door into the hallway to the left toward the noise,
and it was the father of the family that had moved in to the painted apartment.
He had a laundry basket next to him.
He looked as if he had grabbed laundry from the laundry room on the next floor.
He was pounding on the door with wide eyes, as if he was locked out.
and I asked him,
Is everything okay?
He said, no, my baby.
My babies are inside.
I can't get in, but I didn't lock the door.
Now, this is what I understood with his thick accent.
I saw his children previously.
They were like two and four,
so there's no way that they could reach the deadbolt.
He claimed his wife worked nights,
and he was on the phone with the police by this time.
I told him that maybe the kids
somehow got to a stool or something and locked the door thinking it was funny, but the kids were
screaming inside.
Well, one was, I could only hear one child when I knew that there were two.
I went back to my apartment hastily as my son was there alone sleeping over the noise.
My door was still unlocked and all calm.
The police got there and had to bust their door in after like half an hour of pounding.
They moved less than six.
six months after that, and I'm pretty sure it's still vacant since the last people only lasted a month.
But every once in a while, I get a paint smell, or ammonia when I walk by.
I, unfortunately, was with a drug addict of a boyfriend at the time, which I've never done hard drugs in my life.
I smoke here and there, but nothing else.
We were fighting one day arguing about how he had no money, when he had gotten paid too,
days prior, $1,400 working as a mechanic. This small green plate that I keep on top of the
fridge with weed on it and papers, so it's out of reach of my son, flew to the floor and smashed
into pieces. We stopped, looked at each other. I said, I told you this place is haunted. As months before,
the bathroom door closed on its own, and he swears up and down it was me since he was in the
bathroom with his back turned, and the door slammed shut.
I'm no longer with the toxic people, and the apartment can't keep tenants, or the tenants
won't stay.
But either way, it was creepy.
So, this is my first time writing a story for the public, but it's the only real cool
story I can think of that has an unknown mysterious origin.
This is the time that I officially saw my first story.
in-person encounter with a UFO craft, which was very fascinating.
It happened around some time towards the end of the year.
I was about 15 or 16 at the time.
I'm 34 now, so that would have been around the year 2003.
This takes place in the city where I'd spent most of my life,
in San Francisco, California.
I was quite the adventurous kid.
kid who didn't exactly listen to their parents, and of course my friends who I hung out with as
well. I forgot where me and my best friend were going at that time. It was like one, maybe two in the
morning, as we were waiting at the bus stop for the owl bus, a few blocks from my house, close to
San Francisco General. The bus only came every hour or so, so we're just sitting waiting for it for
a little while.
That's when I gazed up, and noticed across the street, and to the left, a little above the
first-story pizza restaurant, above the roof, it was this UFO-like craft, a disc shape for sure
that was just hovering silent, no sound whatsoever.
It was about the size of that one UFO craft from the movie Independence Day.
I barely got to notice the details of this thing that long,
but like I said, it was disc-shaped, dark, metallic in color,
and a bottom that had a circular, rectangle light pattern,
in which it would rotate,
and the four different colors in these rectangles were blue, red, yellow, and green,
like four going clockwise, and four going counter-clockwise.
Then, before I know,
knew it, the bottom got a little bit faster, and then a lot, a lot faster, and incredibly fast,
all in like three seconds. And then it jetted straight diagonally upwards, and before my eyes,
it had pretty much become a laser beam that just went out of this world in what seemed like
light speed. And it was gone. There was no sound. I said, wow to my friend, did you see that?
And he confirmed that he had, yes.
I remember myself saying,
You know, I always knew aliens existed,
but this is just confirmation of what I already knew.
That was undeniable truth that beings from another place in this cosmos do come here.
No doubt about it.
I never really seen anything I can think of that would be like light speed,
but I can imagine as fast as I can see this UFO turn to a late.
laser beam and go up in the sky, it was like a blink, and then it was gone.
And this whole time, nothing made any sound whatsoever.
There's a certain feeling when you see something and another person is there with you,
and they saw the same thing.
Now, when I say it turned into a laser, a good, almost perfect example of what I'm talking about
is like from the old show Star Trek, the next generation.
like that jump to hyperspace.
It was truly an amazing experience, and I just wish I could see something like that again.
Well, there was my story.
I hope you all enjoyed, and if you've experienced any craft as well, let me know.
Okay.
I had a very interesting morning one day back in 2021.
I was sleeping away, and while I was sleeping,
I heard my closed bedroom door open.
Mind you, I always keep my bedroom door closed, 24-7-365.
Then I heard footsteps.
Next, I feel this very soft touch on my back,
which causes me to wake up looking at my closet door,
only to find nothing.
What the entire hell was that?
Who was there?
Oh, and to add more questionable intrigue to this entry,
I also hear footsteps going up and down my basement stairs.
And when I stand at the foot of my bed,
near my open bedroom door during the day and night as well,
there is one other catch, the basement door has to be open, too.
Just, wow, so I think I got a ghostly visitor who doesn't want to leave his house.
That was today's episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast.
Thank you so very much for listening, and I really hope you enjoyed these scary stories.
If you want to support the channel further, please do consider checking out my YouTube channel.
Just search As the Raven Dreams on YouTube and subscribing.
You can also join the channel or go to my Patreon for early access to all of my content, all of it's appreciated, and never expected.
But if it happens, thank you.
All that said, friends, I will see you on the next episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast.
But of course, until then, sleep well.
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