As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 033 - Creepy Roommate and Reddit Stories (Ft. Lady Spookaria and Miss Creepy Tales) - 8 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: July 8, 2022

Hello and Welcome to the 33rd 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 the problems with Roommates, as well as some creepy stories straight from Reddit!  Today's Episode also features two good friends of mine! Check them out on Youtube by searching their names! ➤ 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 Thank you to all of the authors of today's stories, including...  BooksAndStarsLover, djstone1991, Fine_Mango_9631, and Several authors that requested anonymity.   ➤ 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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From rolling countryside to cobblestone streets. Begin your next chapter. Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent. WestJet, where your story takes off. If you have a story you would like to hear featured on this podcast, please go to as the ravendreams.com and click the button to submit your story. Also, if the platform you're listening on, has the option to rate this podcast, please consider doing so. And thank you. I had this story

written out for quite some time now, but I was hesitant to share it just because. I'm sure it can lead to bad memories for some. But after getting permission from those involved, I decided it would be a good idea, if not just as another way of telling those that you can get away from a toxic relationship as well. So this is a quick warning to my story. After college, I moved back to my home state and into a house with an old friend of mine, Alma. She lived in a house that was owned by her parents, and she just paid them rent. However, it was a three-bedroom two bath, so she figured why not have a few friends that she trusted move in,

That way it makes the rent even less. So, I made the long drive back home, and Alma greeted me and helped me bring in the few belongings that I had. After talking for some time, our other roommates showed up, and Alma introduced us. Her name was Yassena, and they met at a local community college that they went to. She was a very sweet girl. She was always very polite. and considerate of us, when it came to anything she did around the house. She was fun to hang out with around the house, or to just talk to.

And she quickly opened up to me as well. Another thing that I learned about her was that she had horrible taste in men, which also ties into me meeting her boyfriend. Let's call him Rick. You could tell that he thought very highly of himself, He was self-absorbed and very inconsiderate. That alone was infuriating, but the outward aggression to Yassinia, and sometimes us, was unbelievable. When they were playing around and he was fed up, he would smack her arm or shove her back and raise his voice at her.

Not that it's any better doing it in private, but it was just awkward seeing it happen in front of us. Because of all of his antics, Alma said that he wasn't allowed over there anymore. Yassena seemed indifferent about it, though. Like she knew what was going on, wasn't right, but she accepted the outcome. Hell, we even tried convincing her that she should probably just leave him, because if it hadn't already, it was bound to get worse. But, as they always do, she claimed that she would be okay. so we just moved on from there.

It wasn't until a couple months after this, so maybe about eight months since I moved in, I believe, that this all happened. Yazenia had started staying at Rick's place more and more. It was just on the weekends, but it became more and more frequent. Until one time, she texted Alma stating that she was going over there, and when she would be back, and then we didn't see her for a week.

No calls, or texts, nothing. We were rightfully worried. I even dropped by her work and asked for her. She worked at a salon and they knew me and Alma, so they told me that she didn't finish all of her appointments a couple of days prior and had called in the last two days. Unfortunately, we didn't have the slightest idea where Rick lived. other than it was an apartment.

And, since her co-workers confirmed that it was her that called in, the police couldn't file a missing persons either, so all we could do was wait around. Finally, she came home one night, while we were both watching a movie in the living room. I think that she was hoping we would be in bed by then, as we startled each other when she entered. She started piecing things together,

pretty quickly the more that we stood there talking and asking questions she had a pretty poor makeup job on her chin and her cheek where she was trying to cover up bruises we begged her to cut it off with him before things got worse and she said that she would she just had to get him to calm down as well as the swelling before he would let her go we tried to keep her occupied as much as possible and we even took her to work, hoping that he wouldn't show up if her car wasn't there. I thought that we did a pretty good job, too. Not the time.

It wasn't too long after she returned, though, maybe a bit longer than a week. The bruising was pretty much gone, and she even seemed to be acting like herself again. I was off this day and offered to take her to work, and she declined, saying that she was going to drive herself. She said she was going straight to work and then back home with no other plans, and, knowing her schedule, I thought it would be fine, so I agreed.

I was wanting to make something specific for dinner that night, so after going to the store that day, I went home and started prepping. That's when I realized I had forgotten something that I needed, or was low on said item. I didn't want to go back to the store, so I texted Alma asking her to get it on her way home. A few hours later, Yassena actually texted me saying that she was going to stop by the store and wanted to let me know. I thought this was perfect, and I asked her to get me what I needed instead, and then told Alma, never mind. While I was making dinner, though, I noticed it had been about two hours since Yassena got off work, and thought that she definitely should have been home by this point. She didn't work more than about 20 minutes from our place,

and the store probably would have only added about an hour, and that was being generous. So I called her to see if she was okay. She didn't answer, and, in fact, it kind of seemed like my call was ignored. So I tried calling again, and it went straight to voicemail. I started to become worried, so I called Alma to have her try to. She had the same results.

She agreed to swing by her work in the store to see if she could see her car, and I started putting stuff away so I could help. And we had also talked to Yassena into giving us his address as well, in case anything ever happened again. So my plan was to drive by there to see if I could find her too. We had a feeling that she was still talking to him, but she was an adult, so we could only say or suggest or do so much. She had to make her own choices, but I was praying that she at least wasn't still seeing him

or trying to work it out with him. I went to my room to grab my purse, and as I was leaving, I heard the door open and slammed shut, as well as heavy breathing. From the front door, you enter the living room and to the right is the left. the kitchen. Straight back from the kitchen was the hall that led to Yassena's room and a bathroom, and the hall to the left of the kitchen led to mine and Alma's room, with our shared bathroom. As I started walking towards the living room, I called out, hoping that it was Yassena, when she came running around the wall visibly shaken. I tried to ask her what was wrong,

but it took everything I could to snap her back. She'd been crying, Her hair was a mess, and she looked genuinely terrified. She told me it was Rick, that he was trying to get her to get into his car, and that he had a gun. Sure, I was scared, but I tried to calm her and say that she was safe. But then she mentioned that he followed her. It didn't take long for me to piece it together. So, I told her to go hide in my room, thinking that he wouldn't think to check there, hopefully. and immediately went to make sure the door was locked and to grab my phone from the charger in the living room.

To my relief, Yosena had locked the door, but as I looked through the blinds, I saw Rick walking up. I didn't know what to do, so I tried playing it off when he started banging on it. I tapped on the window when he noticed me, and I yelled at the door that he wasn't supposed to be there. It became a short argument at that point, him asking for Yassena, I told him she wasn't there. He tried to call my bluff because her car was out front, but I tried convincing him that she probably parked it there to throw him off, and that she may have gone to the gas station down the street. That's when I noticed that he just got quiet, but he hadn't left. I quickly learned what his next plan was when he started throwing.

himself at the door. I grabbed my phone and I called 911 and ran to my room. I saw Yassena peeking her head out from my closet, and I told her to stay hidden. As I started explaining to the operator what was happening, I heard a loud crash, and then I could hear him yelling for her. I heard him throwing and smashing things, and then he got close to my room. Our rooms don't have locks, so all I could do was still. there frozen as to what he could do. He stood in my doorway with his weapon of choice in hand and demanded that I tell him where she was.

Again, I tried telling him that she wasn't there, and he threatened to come back for me if I was lying. I thought I was going to die, or at least get sick right there. It seemed like it lasted forever, and in the back of my mind, I was angry that no one had shown up yet for help at this point, but as he grabbed my wrist again demanding me to go with him

to find her, I started pulling back when I could hear the sirens getting louder. It didn't take him long to process what was happening, as he let go of me, running off and leaving me to fall to the floor. I got up, and I checked to see where he went, but our place was empty. Then I heard a cop call out from the door. Yassena and I immediately ran out and started explaining what had happened. Apparently, she was using the store as an excuse to see him. She said that she wanted to meet in public and only talk briefly. However, he had other ideas and tried dragging her back to his car,

but she had managed to escape and drive back here. Then, I told him what happened at our place, and I gave him his description. That part was more for confirmation as they saw a guy running from our backyard, and they said that he had thrown something over a fence so they stopped him. So, thankfully, he wasn't out for long. I know we probably shouldn't have pushed her so hard, but we did convince her to press charges.

So between what he did to me and her and the damage to Alma's house, he went away for a long time. Yassena went to stay with her mom for a while, but still came over a lot to hang out with us, as we continued to live together for several years. As bad as it was, I definitely think we all became closer and have this cool sister bond now.

All jokes aside, though, I know that those situations are never easy. But just watch for those. warning signs, and ask for help if you ever need it. And as for Rick, I hope you never meet anyone outside of that cell ever again. Back in my 20s, I found a cheap place to live by browsing Craigslist. Yes, I know it was probably a stupid idea boarding with complete strangers, but back at the time, Craigslist wasn't as sketchy, and there were no weird vibes coming off. other people that lived there, so I didn't see any problems with it.

I found a place owned by an older couple. They were sweet and explained that it was actually an old duplex that they turned into a house. They said they weren't going to be getting the money back they put into it if they sold it, so they decided to rent it out, hoping to help others as well as turn a profit. On the day of move-in, they were there. to greet me, go over some more guidelines, and give me the key to my room. We all had keys to the actual house, and then our rooms locked so we could still have privacy, which I appreciated. They also introduced me to my new roommates. And there were two other girls, Aaron and Abigail.

Abigail, or Abby, as she told us to use, was actually our landlord's daughter. They were both nice girls and seemed like people that I would hang out with, so it seemed like it would work out. There was a fourth room that wasn't filled yet, but they were planning on having someone move in soon. It turned out to be a good time, though. We all got along fine. It seemed to share chores without even really asking or planning it out, which was awesome too. Even when you would think the daughter would be spoiled or run amok, she wasn't. She was actually quite normal and respectful. Maybe normal wasn't the right word, though.

For the longest time, she was fine. It was probably close to a year that things got weird. By this time, it was us three and another girl that moved in named Gabriela. Abby was going on some kind of mission trip. This is based on how she explained it. For about a month in another country that I now no longer remember. remember. She had two birds, turtle doves, and she asked me to take care of them while she was gone. She left the key to her room with me and told me some of the basic things, and I agreed to do it.

When she came back from her trip, though, she seemed different. Her whole demeanor had changed. We would ask her how her trip was, and she explained some of the things that she did and learned, but then she would also just go on about some religious history lesson that no one asked for. I get it, and I have no problem with people that are religious, but when we're sitting watching a movie and she just speaks up and starts going on about how this guy tried to warn people in the village of the plague but they didn't listen, and that's why we need to pay more attention, and then would just go back to watching TV.

It was really weird, and we all saw it too when we were around. When Aaron and I were home by ourselves, we brought it up and agreed that she was weird, but that we would let it go until it started interfering with one of us. Again, the landlords, her parents, seemed to be very nice people. But we didn't know how they would take us complaining about their daughter, so we just kept tallies on things that she did in case it got worse. Over time, she seemed to become more reclusive. She wouldn't eat anything that we made saying our bodies are sacred

and that we needed to open our eyes to what we put into it. In fact, I don't think we ever saw her eat any more after that. She rarely left the house, but when she did, it was very short. and she always had sunglasses on and some kind of blanket or scarf covering her head. But for the most part, she confined herself to her room. We would knock on her door to invite her to watch or play a game with us or go somewhere, but she would never open the door and the offers were always declined. Eventually, it just became a point that we would knock on the door to make sure that she was alive.

Her parents would stop by at the beginning of the month to collect rent, and they would even ask us how she was doing. That was a surprise to me because I figured at least they would have had contact with her, but apparently not. So, we told them what we had been experiencing, and they said that they were seeing the same, except she wasn't even answering their calls anymore. They came in and tried knocking on Abby's door, and I think that she was expecting one of us and answered as she normally did, until her mother started talking, and her demeanor changed. Then she started calling them by their names. She said something like, I no longer need your help, Bonnie. Please let me go. They looked upset and confused, but they left, saying to contact them if,

anything else happens. They thought it had something to do with the trip that she went on, but they weren't certain. They told us about some pamphlets that she got from a customer at her work, and that she decided to go to it, on their dime. She said that they would pay them back, of course, but never did, and then she was acting like this. It didn't take long for it to escalate, though. after a while we could hear music coming from her room

that consisted of very low drumbeats and humming all while she was singing nonsense above it we never could make out the words but it was like someone was trying to sing a song that they didn't know the words to then we could smell the incense then we could smell something worse

than the incense it was seeming like the incense were trying to cover up the smell of whatever else was in there. It smelled like rotting foods, which would make sense since she never came out. If she had plates and bowls or even trash in there, it was festering, it was going to start smelling, especially since we were hitting the summer months. We actually had to buy some cheap plates because she seemed to come out at night when we were gone, or asleep, and then she would take them and never bring them back.

The smell, though, it only got worse. You could smell it if you were at the door, but it started wafting out in the hall. Gabriela seemed to have taken all she could and then started beating on her door, telling her that she needed to do her part, because she was making the place stink. But when she finally responded, she spouted something about needing to repent first, and then she could proceed with her human chores. So here's where it all came crashing down. One night, while I was sleeping, I could hear my name being whispered.

I normally didn't lock my door while I was sleeping because I trusted the other girls, but I was still surprised when I opened my eyes to actually see someone in my room, standing by my door. It startled me, and I went to turn on my side lamp when she stopped me saying not to. I knew at that point that it was Abby. She said that she had to go somewhere important, and I was the only one that she trusted. I still have no idea why. She told me not to let anyone in her room,

not even Bonnie or Roger, which were her parents. I agreed, and asked her when she would be back, and she said that she didn't know. Then she left my room, said some weird, spiritual sounding quote, and left. I went back to sleep, though, and figured that I would handle it if it was all real in the morning. Sure enough, the next morning I got up and noticed that her keys and her little car were gone.

I tried calling her cell phone, and it went straight to voicemail. But really, I don't even know if it had been like that for a while. It looked like Aaron had left already, and Gabriella was taking a shower, so I just made breakfast, and everything kept circling in my head. I thought I should at least tell her parents, right? So that they knew she wasn't home. But then I remembered her birds. Surely they were going to need to be fed,

and I decided that I would use that as an excuse for going into her room. So I made my way to her room. The smell had weakened again, so you could only smell it at her door, thankfully. I turned to the knob, and surprisingly it wasn't locked. but I wish that I had not opened it now. It was horrible. The smell hit me first.

I was surprised how much that door was holding back. It smelled just like decay. The windows were covered with her blankets and sheets. She had a little twin or full-sized bed, and she had it leaning against the wall. The mattress seemed to be cut down the center, and things were being stored in it. I didn't get close enough to see what exactly.

The floor was scribbled on with all kinds of incoherent writing and drawings, and then there was her dresser, placed against the left wall. The top of it just had heads, like her bird's heads, and other small animal heads. Some of them were just skulls, and some still had skin attached to them. them, all with their eyes sewn shut. I think at that point I found what the smell was coming from, and I ran out of the room,

leaving the door open. I screamed for Gabriella, and she came into the kitchen, and I explained to her what had happened. She immediately went back and looked. She also shouted some things out, and we agreed to call Bonnie first. We explained what we had seen, and they were over there pretty quick. They seemed just as horrified as us. I'm not sure what all happened. They probably wanted to keep it somewhat private, but some people showed up,

and they all took pictures of the room, and I think it was a friend of Roger and himself that went into the room to completely clean it out. Gabriela had already left, not wanting to deal with it, and they asked me to leave for a bit to finish, and I agreed. When I returned, Roger and Bonnie were seen. still there, and as I walked back to my room, her door was open, and I noticed that her room was almost completely empty. They then told me that when she got home, they were going to move her back in with them until she was, quote, better. She didn't come home that night, though, and it was

actually a few days before she did. Apparently, she didn't like the idea of her room being emptied, and she let out a blood-curdling scream, waking all of us up. I ran out of my room, which was a cross from hers, and she immediately turned around and started screaming about how she trusted me, and that I would pay with my soul. Gabriela and Abby were now in the hall telling her that she was disgusting and creepy, and I was just trying to apologize and tell her that she needed help. But one of the last things that she said to me was that,

Again, I would pay with my soul and that she would curse me until I died, and then kind of mumbled something under her breath, before running down the hall and out the door. None of us were willing to go back to sleep, so we left a message with the owners and just sat around waiting to see if she would come back. Weeks turned to months, and she never came back. Her parents never even saw or heard from her. Every few weeks, I would receive a package,

that had to be delivered since there was no postage, but it was addressed to me. Each time, it had some creepy stuff in it. The head of an animal, similar to what was in her room, there were weird, cryptic, if not threatening messages and images, and each time, I would just walk it out to the dumpster. Gabriela moved out, not feeling safe, and Aaron moved after the end of her lease that she agreed on. I was fine with staying there, but once the packages started coming, I started getting the sense that I was being watched. Everywhere.

While I was there, when I was at the store, driving to work, just all the time. I felt like I was becoming paranoid with this overwhelming sense of dread, or like someone was going to kill me. So I eventually moved out too. I kept in touch with Aaron and Gabriella, though, and they never mentioned anything, so I guess I was just the lucky winner. Like I mentioned, this was several years ago. And I check the news, Facebook, Twitter, all of that, and I don't think that she's ever returned. It's really amazing, not in a good way, and terrifying as to what may have happened to her, but I guess she just doesn't want to be found. However, I would like it if this feeling of being watched would just go away.

We had this planned out for a few months, saving up all we could, as we didn't make a lot of money. We actually worked at the same place at that time. I helped her get a job where I worked because it made more than what she had at her previous job, and we could carpool saving some money on gas. However, getting the time off you want was hard to do due to how scheduling worked. so when we managed to find a few days off together, we took advantage of it. We were long overdue for some time off together anyways. Unfortunately, it wouldn't go as planned.

We wouldn't get to use this time to distress and whine and enjoy our time together. Something came up within her family, putting her in a bad mindset, as well as some changes at work, changing things for both of us in terms of how we were going to get paid. This caused more stress on us, especially her, so we were already on edge when it came time for our trip. We both loved camping, but we were far from professionals, I suppose you could say. We had a decent tent that fit both of us comfortably, and we had a cooler where we put some quick and easy food and drinks in, but we usually ended up going somewhere to eat at least once. Then, we also brought fishing poles and other little camping essentials to make the trip fun and

memorable. The day before we left, some more stuff happened with our family, and I ask if we needed to cancel our plans. Where we were going, we had to pay for our campground reservation, and there were no refunds if you canceled. As mentioned, we loved camping, but preferred campgrounds, so we at least had things there in case we forgot something. And of course, having physical restrooms were great too. So it would have been disappointing having to cancel and lose that money, but I would rather her be comfortable and happy due to the circumstances.

Anyways, she declined and said that she still wanted to go, especially given the reservation plans, so we still went as planned. We got to the campgrounds, which was about an eight-hour drive, and then set up our tent. The night seemed to go really well. There was a family of five in the lot next to us that came over and said hi and offered us food, but we declined as Brooke wanted to go to a place that we drove by on the way there. After we returned, we set up our chairs and went fishing for a while. She seemed very happy at that time, talking, joking, and taking pictures of our catches.

The next day was even fun. We went to a nearby hiking trail, and she found all kinds of things to take back with us that she liked to collect, like rocks, before flowers or leaves, things like that. At one point, we even stopped to use the restroom. When a guy came up and was pretty much flirting with me, I'm a girl as well, so it was always funny when one of us would walk up to the other and hug or something

and watched as the other flurter would scurry away embarrassed. So it was... was until later that night that we would run into problems. Even though rain wasn't expected all weekend, clouds quickly formed and darkened the sky. She was worried that we were going to get rained out, and we didn't have a tarp or anything for the top of the tent, so she was talking about packing it up. I was trying to be optimistic in telling her that it was just cloudy and it wouldn't rain, but sure enough, it did.

It wasn't a storm, and it wasn't long, but we just sat in the car waiting for it to stop. We didn't have enough time to take down the tent either, so she was understandably upset about losing several hours of being able to do anything, but also that our tent was going to be soaked and probably impossible to sleep in. When it finally stopped, we went to assess the damage into our surprise.

The outside was definitely wet, but the inside was just a little dam. We actually bought a few beach towels, so I started wiping up the tent and set our sleeping bags out on the back of my truck to dry some. It only seemed to get worse as the night progressed, though. She seemed to get mad about other. random things, typically small things like not being able to get the fire started and things like that. I knew she was going through a lot, so I didn't get mad at her. I just tried to do what I could to make her happy. However, when it was about time for us to go to sleep or at least go to our tent and

quiet down, she was not having it. She complained it was too hot and that the tent was still wet and was just mad at everything that I tried to do or say. Finally, she said what I was expecting all day, which was that she wanted to leave. However, it's now nine or ten at night and it's dark. Too dark to scramble around to pick everything up, take down the tent and then drive home because we definitely couldn't afford a hotel. I told her that we could leave to me. morrow, only losing a day of our paid lot, but there was no way that we were going to be able to do it all

tonight safely. She didn't like my suggestion, so she told me that I could sleep in the tent, and she went to sleep in the truck. I knew her well enough, that it wasn't worth fighting her, so I watched as she took the keys and went into the darkness towards the truck. I laid there in the tent annoyed as well and read for a bit before falling asleep. I was hopeful that she might come back in, so I wanted to be awake if she did, but she never showed up while I was awake.

However, at some point in the night, she must have changed her mind. I was facing towards the tent wall, laying perpendicular to the entrance. So, when I heard her stepping around and slowly unzipping the tent. I pretended to be asleep, so she didn't feel obligated to say something

and to hopefully avoid any further arguments. She then quietly crawled into the tent and laid down. I assumed she was facing away from me, as she did when she was mad at me, because she didn't hug me or hold me like she usually did, which was fine because at least, I knew she was in there with me. And after a few minutes of her shifting a bit, and not saying anything, I just fell asleep, none the

wiser. The next morning, I woke up to an empty tent. I just figured that she wanted to get up and start prepping to leave. Or maybe she was going to make breakfast for us, or some other morning ritual we did. But when I got out, she was nowhere to be found. I was a bit curious, so my first thought was to check the truck. And sure enough, she was in there and still asleep. I tried the doors, but of course they were still locked,

so I knocked on the window, waking her up. She seemed to be in a decent mood, though, telling me good morning and poking fun, asking if I got wet at all. After the jokes and her opening the door, I asked her when she went back to the truck, and she looked confused. She asked me what I meant by that, so I repeated my question, mentioning how I knew she went to the tent because I had woken up to it. But she seemed confused and alarmed, as she told me, I never went in the tent last night.

That's when I started looking confused. She had to have gone to the tent as I was. I heard it being unzipped, and I could feel another person entering it. The color seemed to drain from her face as she repeated and was adamant that it wasn't her. In fact, she said she thought that I was trying to get in the truck because she heard someone pulling on the handle, and I confirmed that it wasn't me either. She said that she locked the doors, and when she heard it, she yelled to go away thinking it was me. but when she heard what sounded like someone taking off running, she looked around but didn't see anything or anyone.

So we talked a little more on the timeline of things, and it seemed like it was probably within an hour or so of us going to bed that the events occurred. We looked around the truck and the lot to see if we saw anything, and to our surprise, we found some shoe prints surrounding, the back of the truck, that were not from us, and several food wrappers from the lunch meat and chips that we had brought. We even asked a family that was by us if they were around our stuff or if they saw anything, and they said that they were all asleep. Needless to say,

we were both pretty well terrified and no longer felt safe staying there. Who tried getting into my truck and who slept in the same tent as me. I was thankful that broke lock the doors, so they couldn't get in. But this person was also brazen enough to open my tent after seeing someone in there, and then continued to enter it. What if I had woken up and saw them? Would they have tried to do something to me? Those thoughts terrified me. We packed up all of our stuff, told that family why we were leaving and to be careful when they went to bed. The mom seemed pretty worried about it, and rightfully so as they had three kids with them. And I still hope that nothing happened to them.

After we left, we decided to go to a nearby museum and a cute little local diner before heading home. Our relationship didn't survive, but we are all still friends and still friends. work together, so this was often brought up when we talked about trips and creepy things that happened to us. However, we still don't have any answers. The thoughts of those what-if situations are always terrifying, but for the most part, it's become a weird who got a free meal and free one-night's day on us. Starting off, this happened nearly ten years ago. But I recently spoke with an old co-worker that I ran into again, and talking about the old days, it was brought up. And that was when I realized the feeling of being stalked was not limited to just me.

When I was about 22, and working for a small, small security company of only 18 people at the time, we worked in a tourism area location called Seven Falls, in southwest Colorado Springs, in the Cheyenne Mountain Canyon area. I remember the shifts being grueling, due mostly to the fact that we were mostly in direct sunlight during the afternoon and evening, and an average shift we were expected to walk

a minimum of seven miles between the base of the parking area to the top of the falls, and rarely were allowed to use the guest elevator for handicapped and the elderly. The whole park was on a hilly incline, so walking the top down was okay. Bottom up is what exhausted us. In the evening, near the base of the falls, native Ute and or Cheyenne tribal dancers,

would perform and we had to monitor the crowds, which were slight breaks for about 15 to 20 minutes. These falls were frequented by area tribes for hundreds of years, and was still considered spiritual. So it was the native tribes that pushed for their performances since Seven Falls is considered a state park. At the end of the night, we would sit at the main entrance into the falls at the bottom of the canyon,

off Lower Gold Camp Road, and we would monitor the toll booth until roughly 1 a.m. Except during the weekend and holidays, and then we were out there until 3 in the morning. On several occasions, when waiting for the end of my shifts, I always had occurrences that made me feel like I was going to get attacked, by either an animal or a person. guttural hissing, deep manish groans, and harassing growls could always be heard from behind the giant gate.

Glowing eyes, either red or white in color, but larger than area wildlife, could be seen from behind brush and tree canopies. But what's stuck with me is the shimmering humanoid shape. The shimmering was otherworldly. The way I always described it to my family and a few friends was that it was like The Predator. My first work firearm was an older Smith and Wesson semi-automatic single-stack pistol that was my dad's, from when he worked for the Mountain Police Department. But this was the first time that I felt I was defenseless while working.

I watched the shimmering silhouette crawl, on the asphalt, over to the toll booth, to then appear to be standing upright and extend a long, waving arm. This looked like a being phasing between the physical and incorporeal realms. As I shifted my weight to look closer as I was awestruck, the glowing reddish eyes slowly came back into focus. Then, in a snap, I hear what sounds like an animal climbing up the side of the toll booth gutter. and watched as the shimmer jumped to a tree, no less than 20 feet away.

From here, the shimmering thing jumped again, this time a broken branch fell from the tree. A loud clashing sound rang from the top center in the gate, as the shimmer looked back one last time, before going over the gate and disappearing into the Seven Falls Park. This brings us to today in May of 2022. my old co-worker and I ran into each other while at Walmart. We decided to go to the Gunther Tottie's diner next door, while having a burger and reminiscing about the good old days,

he brings up, Did you ever see the predator in his active camouflage at Seven Falls? My blood rained cold, and I dropped a shade to just about pale. He then proceeded to tell me about his experiences on his shifts that I've never heard. After leaving the diner and arriving home, I sat in my driveway for a moment, just contemplating what it is that inhabits Lower Gold Camp Road. My story takes place back in 2010, when I had just turned 19. I had finally gotten my own place away from my parents.

Don't get me wrong. My parents were great and supportive of me staying with them while I went to college. But I really didn't know what I wanted to do with my parents. my life. And I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go back to school. Staying with them meant being pressured into going back frequently. That and the fact that my dad is a youth pastor. So he was always rather strict and nosy when it came to my personal life. So I was kind of counting the days until I was able to get out of there. I actually landed a decent call center job with a friend of mine. That made pretty good money and he was looking for a roommate. So he

and I went in on a two-bedroom apartment on a small property in my town. It was a decent area, across the street from an elementary school, and walking distance from a strip mall that had a target and a movie theatre. My point is that it was pretty decent and family-orientated area that you wouldn't expect anything to happen in. When we got our lease papers signed and our deposits paid, the community manager wanted to take the time to walk around the property with us, to show us the amenities, and also wanted to introduce us to our neighbours. They said something about them, valuing community, so introducing us to the people in our building was important to them.

Most of the neighbours were decent people. A couple of older couples, a single mother with two kids. Then, across the hallway, was an older gentleman that we're going to call Dan. Dan was a bit of a weird guy when we were introduced. He was awkward when he answered, and the property manager told us, him who we were. But I kind of just thought that was who he was. Hell, I'm an awkward person myself, so I was able to sympathize with him. After all that was said and done, we started moving our stuff into our unit and sorting out our rooms, setting up the living room and all that.

Then, about an hour or two into the whole thing, there was a knock on the door. I opened it up and it was Dan. He immediately asked if he could come in. At first, I was a bit noticed. I was a bit about letting him in. I didn't really know him, but after a moment, I figured, why not get to know him better? He walked in and immediately started apologising for his behavior earlier. I told him it was fine, and that it was awkward how they forced people to meet their neighbors anyway, so I would have been the same way. He then mentioned he was actually a bipolar schizophrenic, and while he usually had it under control, he'd been having a lot of issues lately because of problems with his medication, and he wanted to come over to let me know that he wasn't normally that kind of person. Now, my brother was actually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, so I had some understanding how hard it could be.

I told him about it, and he seemed almost relieved that I seemed to understand what he was going through. After a few moments of idle talking, he said he had to get back and headed across the hall. Now, I have no issue with people that have mental disorders like he did. I was in a position where I could understand that it was hard, and I'd see my brother go through a lot of hard times as I was growing up. I kind of expected that having him across the hallway would not be a typical neighbor experience. And that was fine with me. I, however, did not expect how things would go.

About a month into us living there, I came home from work and saw Dan standing outside his apartment, just staring at his door. It was a bit weird, but I figured it was probably just an episode, and I thought maybe I could pull him back if I approached him carefully and spoke with him. I said his name once or twice, and he kind of reacted, but just kept staring. I asked him if he was okay, and he kind of turned towards me saying really softly, he locked me out. He told me I to stay here until he lets me in. Thankfully, because of my brother's issues, I had some knowledge on how to approach someone in this situation. Stay calm and quiet. Don't

touch the person. Ask them to sit down and remember that you can't always reason with them. With all that in mind, I calmly asked him if he was feeling okay or if he was feeling scared or angry. With all that in mind, I calmly asked him if he was feeling okay or if he was feeling scared or angry, just trying to get a feel for what he was going through. He told me that he was mad, but he understood why he did it. He mentioned that he'd had a bad day and did something wrong, so he had to stay outside until he learned his lesson. I nodded slightly and told him it would be okay, and asked him if you'd like to have a seat while he waited. At first, he kind of looked a bit confused, but I told him I could bring out a chair so he didn't have to stand, because I knew standing

there could get uncomfortable. That kind of got through to him and said he would like to have a chair. I went into the apartment and got him one, and then asked him if he wanted me to stay with him, until he was allowed back in. He smiled at me, which I felt was a good sign, but then said that I wasn't in trouble like he was, so I should go back inside. I told him that I would if that's what he wanted, and mentioned that if he needed someone to sit out there with him, he could knock on the door and I would be there for him. It seemed to help some, but again, I knew he was in a bit of a different world in his head, so I wasn't going to pressure him. After going inside, I texted my roommate and mentioned that Dan was having an episode, and that if he was still out there when he got home, to approach him slowly and not make too much small talk. After he got home, he told me that Dan was still sitting there and staring at his door,

and asked how long he'd been there. I only knew that he'd been there for around 20 minutes or so, but it was likely more. We left it at that for about an hour, but then around midnight there was a knock on the door. It was Dan. He asked me if I could come outside and talk to him. him for a moment. I agreed and stepped out. I asked if he was okay and he started crying as soon as I asked. I wasn't sure if he was still in an episode or if he had come out of it. So I slowly reached my hand out and asked if he was okay or if he needed me to call someone for help. I did not expect

what he said next. He told me I need to call the cops because he had hurt his girlfriend. The whole time he's saying this. He's sobbing and staring at the floor. I realize he was at this point, more lucid than he was earlier. And I asked him what happened. He told me they got into an argument about something and that he didn't remember what he did, but he knew she was in there and that she was hurt. I asked him if that was why he felt he needed to go sit in the hallway, and he nodded. He then asked me if I would go into the apartment with him to check on her, because he was scared to go alone. I said I would in just the moment. Then went in and got my roommate to stand in the doorway just in case he wasn't all there yet. I told him that Dan needed me to go with him to

check on his girlfriend and that I told him to stand there just in case anything happened. We went into the apartment and it was a mess. There were dishes broken all over the floor. The living room was trashed and it was pretty obvious that there had been a struggle and it was violent. I asked Dan if he knew where she was. And he said, she was in the bathroom the last he saw her. I asked him if he would sit in the chair while I went to check because I wanted him to stay calm. He agreed. I went to sit down while I walked down the hallway to the bathroom. What I saw was as bad as I expected. This young one was lying naked on the floor at the bathroom.

There was blood all over the floor and the shower, and the room was completely destroyed. My initial thought was that he had killed her, but as soon as I walked into the room, I started hearing her groaned slightly. To my surprise, she was alive, but barely. I called my roommate and told him to call 911, and to tell them there was a badly injured woman in the unit,

then knelt down to try to talk to her. I asked her if she could hear me and she whispered yes and asked for help I didn't know what all had happened and told her not to move just in case she had a head or neck injury and I told her help was on the way I asked her if she knew what happened

and she mumbled incoherently but kind of just faded in and out I told her I would be right back and that the ambulance would be here in just a few moments and to hold on I went back into the living room to check on Dan and he was still sitting in the chair crying his eyes out

I was obviously concerned because of the situation, but I figured it was best to try to talk to him, and to try to explain to the medics and police when they got there that Dan had some issues. I talked to him for a few moments, but wasn't able to get much information out of him about what happened. And then the medics came to check on the situation. I spoke to the police when they showed up and told them that Dan had schizophrenia, and that he said he heard her, but didn't know what had really happened. They took over from there, and I went back over to my apartment. I didn't sleep that night, to be honest.

A couple weeks later, I learned what really happened, and it wasn't what I anticipated. Dan had actually not heard her. She had slipped in the shower. Dan had not actually heard her. She had slipped in the shower, and Dan heard her for. He went into the room and saw her on the floor,

and had apparently panicked. He knew he needed to call for help, but his mind basically told him that he needed to panic. He really wanted to do what he was supposed to, but his brain was not able to process that he needed to call 911. But it got worse when he started telling himself that he had done it. My guess is he left the apartment to get someone else, but may have immediately forgotten what he set out to do.

So he was just staring at the door trying to remember. And then I got home and that's where things went from there. I actually learned all of this from her when she came home and introduced herself. She didn't live there. She was just staying for a few days here and there to make sure he was okay because he was having issues with his medication. She told me that the only thing she remembered was slipping and then me standing over her telling her help was on the way.

I was thankful that Dan hadn't actually hurt her, but it was obvious that he needed more help than what he was getting. He actually did get back on track with his meds. And the next time I saw him, he hugged me and thanked me for helping him. I told him it wasn't that big a deal, but he was adamant I had pretty much saved her life, and that me talking to him, the way I had,

was what likely got him back to reality. I lived there for a few years after that with my roommate, but we ended up moving out around 2010. Dan lived there with his girlfriend the whole time, and he never had another major episode like that day. After that, he was the friendliest neighbor I ever had, and would always greet us with a bright smile. So, Dan, wherever you are out there, I hope you're doing well, and I would love it if we met again someday. I have a story from when I went to college back in the mid-90s. What happened didn't actually happen to me, but to the person that was my roommate at the dorm.

And it's the reason that she actually moved on to campus and started living in the dorms. Obviously, I'm not giving out the name of the school or my city. I'll just say that we live in the southwestern section of the U.S. and leave it there. I lived on campus for the most of my time in classes, but the school, but the school. had it set up to where you didn't have to live on campus at all, and a lot of people took advantage of that, living with family, each other, etc. My friend, and eventually roommate, and the person this story is about, was a short gal named Stacy. Stacy's one of those girls that just never really grew taller than she was in middle school, and she had a very small,

frame at the time. So, she was often taken for being weak, or thought to be a teenager pretending to be an adult. That said, when I got to know Stacy, I learned that she was a bit of a firecracker, and she had taken a number of self-defense courses, so she knows how to properly defend herself if she ever needs to. After a while of living with me at the dorm, she told me about her previous roommate, and what happened to get her to move on to campus. Whenever she was starting her first semester, she didn't want to live on campus, because of the additional costs to the tuition, so she went pretty heavy into the wanted ads. This was the mid-90s, like 96, if I remember correctly, so the internet wasn't really an option.

She said that she met with a handful of people in the weeks leading up to her. her first week, and she was getting worried because none of the places that she looked at seemed to be worth paying for. She said that she was then complaining about it to her mother over dinner, and her mom made a comment about having a co-worker who had a son that went to the same school. She mentioned that she was pretty sure he had his own place, and that the co-worker was just funding it for him, and she said that she would talk to her to get more in her. information about him so they could see if it was an option.

She was a bit desperate, so even though she had never met the guy, she was willing to at least consider it as a possibility. She ended up meeting with the son, who we're going to call AJ, and he seemed like he was an okay guy. Plus, he lived in a two-bedroom unit, and he didn't have a use for the second bedroom beyond storing his extra stuff. They had pretty much agreed that she would take the spare room, as long as she furnished it,

and his parents would just keep paying the rent as long as she pitched in for food. Basically, she had gotten in on a pretty sweet deal that seemed like it was going to work great. She said that the whole thing was fine at first, and that the guy would basically just keep to himself with little interaction. She was working part-time and was attending classes full-time, so they didn't really interact much. For the first month, nothing really happened. A.J. was friendly when they saw each other, but about a month in, he seemed like he was trying to be a bit more forward with the conversations.

It wasn't too creepy, but he was very intent on getting to know her better, asking her. if she had a boyfriend, asking her about what she was studying, what she wanted to do with her life, etc. She thought that he was just trying to get to know her better and trying to be friends, which wasn't a huge deal. But he kept asking things which, to her, was feeling a bit intrusive. She attempted to set some boundaries with him, basically saying that she appreciated him trying to get to know her, but that she did kind of prefer that he not pry so much into her

personal life. Having known Stacy as long as I have now, I can say that she can be a bit direct at times. She's very to the point with how and what she says, but not necessarily rude, just very straightforward in her presentation. She said that AJ seemed to understand what she was saying, and it was a respectful conversation, but that it only got worse from there. For a few days, AJ seemed to be a bit upset with her, but then he went back to just being himself,

including going back to asking the personal questions. At this point, Stacey started to just give short or incorrect answers because it was obvious he wasn't going to quit. It was annoying, but she said it wasn't enough for her to give up her living arrangement. That is, until about a week or so later. During one of the days where Stacey was off work and didn't have class,

AJ was out of the apartment doing something else during the day. Stacey had decided to do some of the cleaning around the apartment and started putting stuff away. She grabbed his backpack and went to put it in his room so it was out of the way and off the floor. She opened his door, and she went to put it on his bed, and when she glanced over and noticed there was a pair of underwear sitting on his nightstand. She said that, at first, she thought that it may have been his girlfriends or something. Until, after a few moments, it clicked, and she realized that it was actually a pair of her underwear.

Obviously, she was a bit grossed out about this situation. It wasn't in a place where it could have accidentally come in with the laundry or something like that. It was on the nightstand next to his bed. At this point, she was pretty fed up with everything, him being nosy about stuff, being inappropriate, and now this, it was enough to get her to decide to finally find a new place to live. It didn't quite end there, though. when AJ got home Stacey said that she confronted

him about the underwear that she found in his room and the entire thing unfurled into something insane she said that he told her he took it because he needed to know what size she was and that he had more of her clothing in his room

for that exact reason and he said that he was going to give them back here soon but that he had a surprise for her which was the reason he needed to know her sizes. He walked back into his room, and when he came back out,

he was holding what looked like a wedding dress. And then, he got on his knees and asked Stacy if she would, in his words, honor him by becoming the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. Obviously, she said no, and immediately started looking into getting a new place to live. She said that she no longer felt comfortable being anywhere near him, and that for a couple of weeks that she lived there after that, she would sleep with her door blocked by her end table just in case.

Apparently, after this event, he actually stopped speaking to her altogether, and was pretty much never home. She packed her stuff up and got a hold of the campus to move into the dorms, and then became my roommate. she was shocked that he was that level of obsessed with her to the point that he went and bought a dress for her after stealing her clothes and while some people may hear this and think

well that's not that creepy in my opinion I completely agree with Stacy this was creepy as hell if he was just into her and took it slow it would be one thing and he would have then found out that Stacy wasn't exactly straight. Instead, he went the route of being weird and obsessive,

taking her clothes to get her size, and then spending money on a custom wedding dress to propose to someone that he'd only known for about two months. Obviously, not the best way to go about it. Stacey got out of there as quickly as she could, and she never spoke to him again after that. I have only talked to about three people about this incident, largely because I feel as if it is my fault somehow.

In 2018, I was hanging out with a friend that I wasn't supposed to be with. So, for the sake of secrecy and ease, I told my 17-year-old sister to drop me off at our old elementary school and then have them pick me up from there. Nothing weird happened. We hung out, and then I told them to drop me back off at the elementary school at midnight, a time of their curfew, and my sister would come get me. I was almost 15 at the time, and though we had moved about a 15-minute drive from our old school,

it wasn't in a bad area. I used to live in Utah, specifically the sandy area in a middle-class neighborhood, though we weren't middle class. It was a quiet neighborhood, full of Mormons, and I never truly had any scarring experiences. It is important to note that, despite being nearly 15, I probably looked anywhere between 9 and 12, as I was on the shorter side and I truly didn't hit puberty until about 15 and a half.

When we pulled up to the school, there was a hatchback white car that was driving around rather recklessly, such as speeding it around in reverse, doing spin-outs, and stuff like that. It was driving in circles around this curb that split off the drop-off zone and the small faculty parking lot. I sat with my friend in their car for a second, expressing my concerns about the other car, and they assured me that it was just some stupid teenager. I didn't say much more about it and said my goodbyes and got out of the car.

The way the school is set up is that there is a large brick building, and when looking head on at the school, there is a small opening to the left that leads back towards the playgrounds. The faculty parking lot is about 20 to 30 feet from the entrance to the school. When I got out of the car, I sat by the main office doors that would lead into the school right underneath a bright light. I needed to put my shoes on. I don't remember now why I hadn't done it before.

The car stopped in the faculty parking lot, not in a parking spot, but in the middle of the central lane. Cautiously, I got up after successfully securing my shoes on my feet, and I stared at the car. As I said earlier, I am easily anxious. A man, hard to describe as he was back lit by a street light, got out, and started walking towards his now open trunk. I watched as he paused and pulled something out of his trunk and then paused. Though I couldn't really see his face, I knew he was staring at me, and he said, I'm sorry for whatever happens to you.

It's not your fault. I didn't say anything in return, and I ran towards the back of the school, and I kept running, until I hit a large portable, hiding behind it and peering around towards the drop-off area. He must have gotten back in his car as he pulled out of the parking lot. The back area of the school is large, and in the far corner, there's a back exit onto a large, steep road that goes down. I tried to call my sister a few times, but after she didn't answer, I called my friend. I made my way towards the back alleyway and exited back onto the road, and just then as I crossed a small side street, the car turned on to the road.

He saw me probably as immediately as I saw him, and I ran down the road hanging up on my friend. When I reached the bottom of the hill, there was a house in the corner, and I cut through their grass, and stood on their stoop and rang their doorbell once. The car stopped at the corner, still on the street with the large hill. he then rolled down the window to talk to me. Hey, I'm a police officer. I wanted to know if you needed any help, the man said, leaning slightly into the center console,

presumptuously so I could hear him better. I insisted that I did not need help in that I was okay. But the man kept insisting that I come to the car. Of course I didn't. After about 30 seconds, he left. The people in the house opened their door, and I was crying. It was a middle-aged man and his wife. I also had a dog, it seemed.

I explained the situation about the car that was chasing me, and I got my friend who dropped me off on the phone. My friend is absolutely the worst at directions, and as the wife tried desperately to give it to them, it didn't seem to be getting anywhere. The car came back as the two were sitting on the stairs, with me. I started freaking out as it drove slowly by the house,

and all I could say was that's them. That's the car. The man walked down his drive with the dog, but the car sped away. Eventually, my friend found their way, and the woman walked me up the hill to their car. I couldn't thank them enough. I went home and notified the police,

but nothing ever came of it. I don't know what that man's intentions were, but I can clearly tell that they were not positive. So this was three years ago, right before the pandemic hit, and it's now

one of my favorite stories to tell now that I'm no longer scared. I've moved thousands of miles away, and a few years' time has passed. So my husband was in the military during this time, and I was a housewife due to work being hard

for me to get in my area that I was in, as I can't drive and lived off base. Well, any military person knows that military schedule is pretty darn predictable. And much of our lives ran on an easy-to-memorize schedule, and to make matters worse, my husband was often gone for long hours. For two-ish to three-ish months, I'd been seeing the sky wandering around my home, peeking in the windows. Honestly, I didn't originally think much of it beyond being weirded out.

We didn't have anything that would interest a robber, no TV, a single seven-year-old computer, a broken couch and table, a mattress on the floor, literally nothing expensive in our home beyond a gun that was locked up in a safe that may have looked like it had stuff. But that is a lot of work for what looks like a home of people living in poverty. So I didn't think anything of it. Yet he kept coming back when my husband was gone. I'd see him every few days or hear him due to my normally super sweet cat at the time hating him

and hissing and yowling when he saw him. So I would know he was there when my cat was making an angry fuss. Well, one day I went out with my husband, and I guess I didn't lock the door or something properly, as our lock could be a bit funny, and I was running late. According to our normal schedule, I'd have gone to base with my husband for family mandatory fun, and I'd have come back home alone in an Uber while my husband stayed on base to work, or hang out with his friends. What ended up happening was that I fell sick with a migraine. I have hemiplegic migraines, so it can be serious,

and his sergeants told him to take me home and take care of me when he saw me. Now, before I go on, I should probably describe my old home. I lived in a two-bedroom apartment complex in the mountains. It was a massive complex. My home layout was this. My front door led to my house. kitchen and dining area my kitchen and dining area wall next to my door was another glass door think like patio door across from my kitchen was my room then you go down the hall and hit the living room

that has another glass door wall next to the fireplace and finally after that you go across the living room at the end of the hall and you hit the guest room or my plant room slash cat's playroom with yet another glass door wall. I was literally surrounded by giant glass doors. Then, outside we had a porch, and on the porch was a storage closet where I usually kept my bike, as I couldn't drive due to my migraines and seizures. Back to the story now that I've set the scene.

So, when my husband brought me home again, not per our normal schedule, we came home to find our door slightly ajar. We gave each other a look and went inside anyways, with me mumbling how I must not have locked it properly, due to us being in a rush that morning. We walked into the kitchen where my husband immediately went to the fridge and started looking around for water for himself and me.

He then spoke for the first time while in the fridge. Honestly, I don't even remember what he said. But then we heard something maybe a few seconds after he spoke. Our porch glass door in the back of our home moved. We both knew the sound really well, as I liked to sit on the porch reading for hours, so I was always coming in and out. He then grabbed my shoulder and whispered to grab his gun from our room,

and he then grabbed a butcher's knife and went towards the living room. I went and grabbed the gun, noticing on my way to our room that down the hall, our living room glass porch door was wide open. Upon giving my husband the gun and following behind him as I dialed 911 in my panic, saying that I had an active break-in

while my husband did a sweep of our home, and while I was on the phone, upon coming back down the hall towards the kitchen, to see if he went around back up and to the front, the only way out of the area that he went. As we lived on a literal mountainside, and one side was blocked off out back. We heard our storage door out back that we forgot to shut slam open. Me and my husband run back out there where we found our storage door swinging open

and just barely saw the same guy who'd been spying on me and our home. He didn't end up coming back that day. I also later found that the only things missing were some of my clothes, lingerie, and bathroom care products. The police showed up about four hours later and took a statement from me and my husband. Eventually, my husband had to return to his normal schedule. I was terrified and he didn't like it, but we also had no choice till we could find a new place in three months when our contract ended.

The first week things were fine. He didn't come back. My cat didn't yell or throw any fits, so he didn't see him either. Things were fine that week. Then another week went by, and I started to think that maybe the gun we brought out had scared him. Yeah, no. The third week he ended up coming back while my husband was at work in the morning. He first tried the door and was trying to fly.

force it open. Then, he started banging on the glass next to the door. I put 911 on speaker and texted my husband while I panicked and cried. While I was on the 911 call, he ended up leaving the front door, giving up, and when I voiced that he walked away from the door to the 911 dispatcher, the lady spoke to me like I was being ridiculous, freaking out this badly over someone trying to get into my locked door. I hung up, and then finally called my husband while I had a full-on panic attack, and it turns out he was already coming home

with a car full of his and my friends that were also in the army, and whom work with him, as they turned around towards me as soon as I texted what was going on. He ended up going to the back door and trying both glass doors there as well before finally giving up.

About four minutes later, my husband and his friends arrived and found me clutching my cat and crying. They ended up scanning the area and still did not find him. The cops showed up seven hours later, and I was very angry this time but gave another report.

I ended up with three of the guys sleeping over in the spare room, and my husband and me slept in our now locked and bolted bedroom. I got a lock installed on the bedroom door after the first time. Then, the next day, me and my husband's friends went out and got and installed cameras in all of our doors and window areas. After this last time, beyond him going back to looking in our windows three more times, I never had another issue. We moved out shortly after this, and since then I never saw him again.

Hey there, friends. That was today's episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast. And I really hope that you all enjoyed this collection of scary stories. If you did, please do consider checking out my YouTube channel where I do these same stories, but a little bit earlier than I do them here on the podcast form. And also in slightly different collections. If you really enjoy the podcast, please do consider giving it a a rating of any sort if the platform you're listening on has ratings.

Any honest rating is appreciated by me, be it five star, one star, however you want to do it. Just know that rating the podcast helps tremendously. And if you would like to support further, I do have a Patreon and channel memberships if you'd like to do things on the YouTube side, where for as little as a dollar a month they get early access to my content. Never ever expected, but always appreciated. That said, friends, I hope that I do see you. you on the next episode of this podcast. And of course, until then, sleep well.