As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 037 - Creepy Unexplained & Scary Reddit Stories - 13 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: August 5, 2022

Hello and Welcome to the 37th episode of The ATRD Podcast! Today we have some intriguing and terrifying stories submitted by everyday people. In Today's Episode we will have terrifying Unexplained Horror Stories, as well as some true scary stories straight from reddit! ➤ 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... Alanna, CollinS, JustSam, TimFromTheUK, Chompski, Emma, Beautiful-Routine295, Bella, BestSalesMan62, Anxious_Stock1852, bimboslaggins, and authors that wanted 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 thank you. Back in 2014, I, 24 male, lived in this small apartment complex by myself. The building went in a U-shape, with a park and a pool in the center of it. It had a small playground in it, but it also had some benches and covered spots. I liked to go running or jogging around the building, and then would occasionally sit on one of the benches to cool off before going home. This happened when it was just starting to get cooler out, so I was wearing a light jacket. It was sky blue with the reflective strip down the outside of the sleeves,

and I was wearing black sweatpants at the time. Don't worry, it's relevant. After my jog, I sat in my normal spot on the red bench on the far right. I sat there with my head slumped back, just trying to relax and catch my breath. I hadn't been feeling well, but I still wanted to do my normal routine, so it was more like a brisk walk. After a while, I started doing something on my phone, like playing a game or texting a friend, most likely,

when someone sat on the same bench next to me. He had on jeans and a hoodie, which he had pulled up. over his head. I just did a quick take to see who had sat next to me since there weren't many people on the benches, so my initial thought was, really? You had to sit at the same one that I was on? But I just looked back down, continuing to do what I was doing on my phone. That's when I heard the guy say something, but I couldn't quite tell what it was.

So, I just looked over at him. He was leaning back on the bench with his arms crossed, and his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles. He stayed in that position, but looked over at me. He had those reflective sunglasses on, so all I could see was the dark stubble on his chin. His hairline looked dark, but I don't know if that was just from the hoodie or not. There was no emotion in his voice as he talked, but without looking away, He said, She's being held at the union building off of 54th.

I had no idea what he was talking about, or if I had even heard him correctly. So I just stared at him, curiously. When he didn't say anything, I just said, What? He continued looking at me for several seconds when he said, Really? White Jacket?

Which caused me to look down. at my shirt. I looked back up at him and said, Bro, what are you talking about? This guy then pulls his glasses down a bit, staring at me, then pushed them back up and immediately got up and walked off like nothing had ever happened.

After watching him walk away and out of view, I went back to my phone as I had been texting my friend and I told him what just happened. As I was reading his response, another person showed up at my bench. He put his foot on the bench and leaned over as if he was tying the shoelaces. I looked at his foot and then backed down at my phone with a slight scoff of the situation when I heard the guy say, you didn't hear anything.

As with the previous conversation, I just looked up at the guy waiting for more of an explanation. But after staring at each other for a few seconds, he just walked. walked off. So, I again told my friend what had happened, and he started coming up with all of these theories. I took it as a joke, but he said maybe I was in the middle of a setup or hostage-slash-ransom situation, and they went to the wrong guy. Like I said, I thought it was just a joke, as this was in some rural city that didn't have a lot of criminal activity, so I just blew it off. One of the last things my friend said to me that night was basically, Hey, just watch your back.

Worried that someone might try to get rid of possible witnesses. I blew it off and continued talking to him for a bit and then decided to head home. My building was on the left side of the U-shape, towards the center, and I was at the edge of it, where the park started, so I didn't have much of a walk. However, I started getting the feeling like I was being watched, so I stopped and looked around when I noticed the same guy that was tying his shoe was leaning on a car and staring at me. I was probably just in denial, and I told myself that I was just imagining things and continued to walk home. The buildings have a main door in, and then the doors into the apartments are inside. So, I went into the main door, and as I walked up the stairs, I looked back through the main entrance.

I saw that same guy slowly walking by and trying to look into the building. I walked a little faster to my door and went in. Again, I chalked it up to me not feeling 100%, and my friend trying to put things in my head. So I just decided to go to bed. but several times throughout that week I felt like I was being followed. I never actually saw anyone, but I would go on my walk and would see a random guy by himself, seemingly just standing around. There was a similar looking guy at the coffee shop that I stopped at a few times,

and even when I went off-site for lunch, I saw that same guy. This really started making me feel paranoid as I work in a construction area so if you didn't work in the building or weren't part of the construction crew there was no reason for you to be around I told my friend about what I was experiencing and he told me that I should tell the cops just in case

I told him I would if they kept up or got any closer but of course it stopped Not that I wasn't thankful, but it was just really strange that after about a week of this, it all just stopped. I never saw the guys anymore, and I never had any run-ins with anyone at the park. My friend and I still talk about this sometimes because it was so bizarre, and it was pretty creepy after I thought about it more. I don't know what I was part of, but if it was very, real. Someone definitely messed up.

But I guess I'm glad they deemed me to be trusting, I guess. Although very amateur, I consider myself an avid ghost hunter. I love listening to and reading ghost stories as well as watching a few

shows on TV. I can only tolerate some of them though, as I felt others were over-dramatized and made the real ones look watered down. I love looking for old abandoned places or haunted buildings to explore. Thankfully, I was never alone in my ventures. I had two other friends that were just as enthusiastic as myself. Rachel and Harlan were typically with me in every building that I went through.

I got a bonus at work, so I treated myself to a new and better EMF reader and a digital audio, recorder. I had just been using either the recorder or a spare smartphone, or a cheap battery-operated tape recorder, and I had been wanting a professional one. Of course, once I received them, I was itching to go somewhere to try it out, but I wanted to go somewhere new. So, after some discussing and planning, the three of us decided to check out a building that was supposedly haunted. We learned about this building through a site with a list of abandoned places in our area. There were comments saying that it definitely had some paranormal activity going on, and for the most part, it wasn't monitored or guarded and there were no signs saying you couldn't enter.

So, we decided to go forward with it. The night comes for our adventure, so Rachel and Harlan meet at my place so we could all drive out there together. When we arrived, there wasn't really much in the way of a parking lot or a driveway, because of how old it is. So we parked on the side where the grass seemed to thin out. The outside itself looked like it could tell a story on its own. It looked like a small castle.

It was made of brick that looked in between a light gray to a white. It had rounded corners with really nice-looking arched windows. The side that we parked on looked like it shifted some, like it was starting to sink or maybe fall, but it didn't look like it would be a safety issue, so we still went in. It had a heavy wooden door that opened inward. We had to push on it pretty hard,

as it seemed to catch on the floor due to it being slanted because of the time that had passed. I mentioned this to keep in mind that it takes a little force to get it to move. I started by pulling out the camera that I had to do an intro including who all was here and where we were. Then I gave Rachel my EMF reader to use as Harlan had his own and I set up my new recorder. We all stayed together to walk through the bottom floor.

The living room still had an old couch in it. It had dust on it, but it looks like it had been disturbed recently. It was entirely possible as others, have checked this place out before, but there was still the idea that someone else could have been nearby. That was kind of unsettling. There was a huge frame that hung above the fireplace, but whatever was in it had been cut out.

There was a small kitchen with an old-style oven in it, and then we saw a room that was pretty much empty, but it had bookshelves on all sides. I think it may have been some kind of library or study of some sort, We weren't getting any hits on the EMF, so we decided to move upstairs. The second floor had a wide walkway that actually looked over to the bottom floor near the front door. To the right of the stairs was another small room that looked like a den. There weren't any doors, and there was another doorway on the opposite side.

We started to go towards the left, which had, I believe, four doorways. One was to a pretty simple bathroom with a single disconnected tub. It had a curtain that seemed to go around it, but the bars that held it seemed to have been eaten by rust and were barely standing. The next door led to a smaller bedroom, and judging by the decor it belonged to a child. The trimming was a light pink or purple with the floral pattern carved out of it.

There was no electricity in the place, so the only source of light was our flat. that we were carrying. Nothing was really of interest there, so we moved on. One of the other rooms must have belonged to the adults or the owners of the house. There was a large bed frame in the center of the room, as well as a walk-in closet that actually still had a few things hanging up. Rachel moved the clothes, and, as she did this, I got a strong smell of perfume.

By the look on her face, I could tell that she could smell it too. I figured it just came from the clothes, but she opened one of the jackets and smelled the inside and said she couldn't smell it. We just figured it was an odd occurrence and moved on. Rachel was still looking through the closet, and I went back to the room to look around and ask questions like, Is anyone here with us? Harlan was with us up to this point, but then he said, said he was going to go on ahead to the next room. Not long after this, I hear the beeping sound from that EMF reader,

and Rachel came walking out of the closet showing me the screen. We began asking more questions, but the only response coming out seemed to be static. Sometimes we could hear words or parts of them, but this was just garbled. So we continued asking questions in hopes of getting answers that made sense. Rachel and I left the room we were in, and went to the one Harlan was in, and his EMF reader had been going off as well. That room, it seemed a bit more generic. The walls looked in off-white. There was a smaller bed frame with a nightstand next to it, and otherwise the room was pretty empty.

We all went to the last room together, and both readers were going crazy. But was weird to me was that there was nothing. in this room but a chair. It looked like an old rocking chair, but the rocker part was broken and rotted out, so the chair was leaning on one side. I told Rachel to set the reader on the chair on a whim, and when she did, it stopped.

Harlins was still going as he held it, though. We began asking more questions like, was this your room? Are you still here? Did your life end here, and so on. Then Harlan's reader stopped too. We stood there for several minutes after that, waiting to see if something else happened. But there was nothing.

Rachel really enjoyed this. Like, she never hesitated on going on one of these adventures. But Harlan almost got into these more than I did. So when all the activities stopped, it seemed to upset him, like we had just lost a big catch. so he decided to go outside for a few minutes to gather his thoughts and to get something from my car. Rachel and I stayed in the room to see if we could get anything back. She asked for the recorder and began asking questions

and just talking aloud. After a series of questions, we heard what sounded like Harlan standing in the hallway and talking. I remember hearing, This is messed up. What are we doing here? Rachel and I looked at each other, just kind of smirking, as it was, one, unusual for Harlan to not feel comfortable in these situations, and two, something we've never really heard him say before. Rachel called out for him, and when there was no response, she started walking towards the doorway and looked around.

She said Harlan was nowhere nearby, so I walked over to her to confirm this. That's when we heard a loud slam, followed by banging and Harlan yelling. We quickly started running down the stairs when I noticed the door was closed. We both stopped at the bottom of the stairs. For myself, it was definitely out of confusion. But it couldn't have been more than a few seconds before I started walking towards the door, and then it came flying open with Harlan on the other side. He had a look of confusion and anger, maybe more so annoyance when he gave us the normal spiel of,

that wasn't funny, guys. We had to convince him that it wasn't us, because we were still upstairs until we heard him talking and then heard the slam. It seemed the talking is what got him to believe us. We explained what we had witnessed, and he said he experienced something quite the same. He heard what sounded like Rachel talking and me laughing when the door shut. He was trying to open it, but it wouldn't budge, until it seemed like it was pulling him back into the house as it flew open.

That's when the conversation turned to said door. It was slightly off and very heavy. Rachel definitely couldn't move it herself, and if Harlan or I tried to, it took effort, as you had to hold it up as you moved it. So it wasn't possible to move it so quickly. He was definitely in agreement at that point, but then we explained to him that we heard his voice as well.

He confirmed what we were already thinking, which was he never went back upstairs either. Something was definitely mimicking our voices. We decided to leave since the door slammed, thinking maybe we were upsetting something, but made plans to go back with more equipment, like a thermal camera. A few days after our trip, I decided to go through the audio that we had gotten to see if maybe we could make out some words from the garbled mess.

To my amazement, there was nothing the whole time we were trying to talk to it, until we were outside with Harlan. I could hear parts of our conversation with him, but when we stopped talking and there was presumably dead air, you could clearly hear on the recording, Welcome to my home. We heard nothing of the sort while we were standing there. I showed this to the other two, and they agreed. We do have plans to go back, as mentioned, but Harlan was in an accident, so just as soon as he is out of his cast, he wants to go.

And I will be sure to share anything else that we experience. no one's going to believe me. I would be skeptical myself, and I fully expect people to discount this as utter fiction, but I swear on my kids that every word is true. This was told to me by someone who has top clearance in the government. He was not prone to telling stories or bragging. I know the man's character,

and I 100% know that he was telling the truth. But to everyone else, This is just another hearsay of someone who knew someone that was there. So I get it if he don't believe me. I'm not just telling this anonymously for my sake, but because the person who told me shouldn't have. He was telling me classified information. So here it goes. I met John my junior year in high school.

He was a year older. His family had moved him from New York City into the woods of East Nnoburn. nowhere right at the beginning of his senior year. I mean, who does that? Why not wait one year instead of ripping your kid away from everything he has ever known? Not to mention all the opportunities the city has compared to a diploma from a podunk town with a population of 500. But there has just been a major shift in the government. Apparently, they moved suddenly with almost no warning, to the middle of nowhere, to a dead end,

dirt road that even the locals didn't realize was there. So John was a very close friend. He was my first boyfriend, but that didn't last. But we stayed close over many years. His father had been a politician. He had lots of stories, all verifiable, nothing secret. Stuff with him hanging with the Kennedys. He has the photos to prove it along with presidents and other famous people.

As I started college, John's parents had started going away for the winter. We were in a very cold state. They had a cat that John's father loved like crazy. My school didn't have dorms, so I lived in an apartment, but I went home for the summers. I missed having a cat, but getting one wasn't practical because I kept moving back to my parents' house in the summer. It worked out beautifully, because I would take their cat for the winter, Enter, satisfying my need for a furry pet, and then bring him back home to John's dad for the summer. My senior year, I get a call from John's dad a day before we're supposed to do the swap.

He's sobbing. This is a man's man, practical, no nonsense, but this man is bawling. The cat had gone out onto a paper-thin sheet of ice on the lake, and the cat fell through, and John's dad went up into his chest to save the cat. And that's how much he wanted to save his beloved pet. But the cat didn't make it. I'm telling you this because it was our bonding moment. I had known him for six years at this point,

and we always got along, but this was the point where we were more friends, unless my friend's dad slash his son's friend. We were home on winter break after the incident with the cat dying. I was having dinner with the family. John's dad gets a phone call, pre-cell phones. He takes the call in the other room and comes back really quiet. He was usually talkative, but not boisterous. He was positive without being a prankster. Just a nice, solid guy. Now, he was deep in his own head. After dinner, he sits in his chair and he starts to talk.

The phone call was a long-time friend, and they had brain cancer. A very rare kind of brain cancer. He told me the name, but I've long forgotten. He then tells me that this is the sixth person he knew that had gotten this specific rare cancer, which seemed odd. He said, yeah, it is, but when you realize that there were eight of us all who saw and touched the same thing, then it gets weirder, but explains the cancer. He and seven others had a tour of Roswell.

They learned everything. There was a crash. There were four aliens. One was dead when the military got there and one died shortly after. One made it back to the base but didn't survive more than a couple of hours. And the fourth? It lived with minor injuries. It did die, tortured to death with experiments.

Of course they worded that differently, he said, but that's what it was. They then saw the aircraft. They had been trying to fly it for years. They were able to turn it on and get it to hover, which they did a demonstration, but that was it. Although they learned a lot, and much of our technology was retro-engineered from it. So now, 20 years later, six of the eight in the group that had a tour had gotten the very specific, very rare brain cancer.

One had survived. Four died. And one had just gotten the diagnosis. He was worried for his friend, but terrified for himself. I cannot tell you what he looked like, just scared. Relief for being able

to tell the secret. Later, he came to realize that he told us classified information. He said no one would believe us, but if the wrong people knew, he would be in danger, so please don't repeat it. And I didn't. Not for years. And after 25 years, I've only told two or three people.

But that's not the end. Two years after this, he was diagnosed with the same rare brain cancer. He survived. Of the group at that point, he and the other were still living. I believed him from the start, but him getting the same cancer or two years later, erased any of my doubts. And then, just a couple years ago in a very different part of the state a hundred miles away, I'm talking to my neighbor.

His dad was stationed at a military base in Japan. They were removing old filing cabinets that had been there literally since the base started. Behind one of those cabinets, he finds a classified memo. It details the Roswell crash. It confirms everything that John's dad said. One DOA, one dead soon after, one made it to base, and one survived to be experimented on until he died. And they still have the bodies.

They sent the memo to Washington. When they checked to see if it got there, they said, What memo? And we don't know what you're talking about. The memo came out mostly redacted, after the Freedom of Information Act compelled its release. My neighbor said that it was the same memo that he held in his hands, but this was before cell phones and digital cameras,

and they weren't about to let a teenager photocopy a classified document, even if it was from the 40s. The fact that my neighbor said the exact same thing tells me that both are credible. But like I said at the start, I don't expect anyone to believe me. I talked with someone who gave me an eyewitness account, but for you all it's just another story on the internet. I swear everything I have said is truth. And for what little it's worth,

but like I said, I want to be anonymous for this one. John's dad is passed, but still, there's no point in outing him for giving up classified information. Instacart knows that some people go bananas about getting the perfect, well, banana. Some want them green, some want them ripe, Some with them ready right when they hit their doorstep. But with Instacart's preference picker, available at most retailers,

you can choose to get your groceries just the way you like. That means perfectly right bananas, deli meat sliced just the way you want, and avocados that aren't still hard as a puck in the third period. So don't cross your fingers and hope for the best. Download the app and get groceries just how you like with Instacart. Before you hear my story, let's just say that psychopaths are really good at acting normal until they aren't. True colors always come out.

And this experience is the reason that I still have high trust issues with new people to this day. So, with that being said, I'll get to the story. Back in 2017, I briefly lived with probably the most impulsively insane person I had ever met. Let's call her Ray. Ray and I met in the beginning of 2016 through some friends in college, and over time became closer. She seemed pretty normal and nice to me, and I never pinned anything out to be wrong or out of the ordinary with her. We had a good time, went together, and from my experience so far, she was actually even pretty supportive, too. For instance, when my ex broke up with me, I was understandably devastated.

So, right when she found out, to cheer me up, she immediately bought us a large case of beer to drink together while we hung out. And, admittedly, I needed a small buzz to take the edge off of the drowning emotions that I was experiencing. Instead of a pity party, she decided to have a roast. She ended up insulting my ex to the point where I surprisingly felt a lot better, because she had me laughing super hard rather than sobbing. And it made me immediately feel like it was less of a loss for me. And she actually really helped me to move on, because she had convinced me that better guys were out there.

She was actually right about this one. Truly, she seemed to be a really great friend at the time, and she was the first person that I would vent to, and I enjoyed spending time with her. Over time, we hung out more frequently, and one day we discovered that we both each had a lease at our old apartments that were ending. Wow, we both thought,

this is actually super convenient, because we were both looking for a, roommate. So, we decided to become roommates. Eventually, we found a place together and finally moved in together in March of 2017. Moving day was also very exciting. College was now basically 75% over at this point, and we both thought it would be a fun arrangement until we graduated in the spring of 2018. We even went as far as agreeing that we would resign the lease together then, only under the circumstances that we, for some reason, didn't find a serious partner,

and wanted to by chance live with them or find work in another city after graduation. I mean, anything is possible. At this point, there were absolutely no indicators that this arrangement would not work out. We also had quite a few mutual mutual. friends, so even more conveniently, we could invite them over and all hang out together. Some of them even lived in our new building, even better. The first few months actually went really well. We went to school, worked, and happily had somewhat similar schedules with both school and work.

So we were home at the same time, a ton, and we would have wine nights, movie nights, cook new recipes together, invite friends over, have spa nights, you name it. And we even adopted a cat together named Sharla, which was her name at the shelter, and we liked it so we kept it. That was when I realized that I had a small cat allergy, which would luckily make things easier later on. About four months into living at our new apartment, things began to get a little more, iffy. Nothing huge, but just a few small things that we would normally move past and continue with the day. She got a new job and her schedule didn't match up with mine as much, so we ended up

hanging out a bit less. It bummed us both out at first, and we began growing slightly apart, but still remained close. When our schedules were the same, we did chores together, but since our times were less synchronized, we made a rotational schedule and equal agreement on who would do what. For a random example, I would do the dishes, mopping, and trash, and she would do the vacuuming, laundry, and dusting. Then, we would switch back and forth and mutually choose who would do what every week. We would just leave the list on the counter and check off what we did when we did it. It sounds like a lot, but we're both really clean people, and it worked great at first for about a month. If a system works, then why not?

It was the end of August now, and school had started back up. It was finally senior year, and we were five months into our apartment together now. I think it's around this point where things began to escalate, and a bit more this second, time than previously before the chore schedule. It all started on this one particular day. With my new schedule, I had classes until 12 p.m. And then work from 2 p.m. until sometimes 10 p.m. 4 days a week.

And I remember that this day was a Monday. I got home at around 12.20 p.m. or so. Made myself some lunch. Mopped, did the dishes, and dishes. dusted. My roommate had down trash, laundry, and vacuuming for that week. So I did my part, checked the chores off the list, and went to take a small nap before work. I got up, got dressed for work, and she came home about five minutes before I left. We spoke and I told her what I did and checked off for the day. She said, oh, awesome, and seemed totally fine. Well, I, I,

I get to work, and about a few hours in I have to use the restroom. So, while there, I checked my phone, and I had about three rather rude text messages from Ray. I just went back to them now in real life, and I added them to this story. Thank you, I, Cloud. So, she said, I really didn't want to do the trash this week. You could have done it instead of napping. I'll just pick up the slack later. I have work, so I'm not doing anything until tomorrow.

I said, right, I did the trash last week. You never said anything about not wanting to do it until now. You agreed to do it without a problem, and the trash can isn't even half full, so I would see no need anyways. I already did the dishes, mopped and dusted. That small period of time is the only time I have to rest, and I only got 20 minutes of it. Ray said. Okay, whatever. I rolled my eyes and went back to work.

When I got home that night, I showered, climbed into my bed, and saw a text from my friend Macy. It was a screenshot of something that Ray had said to her. The text read, Bella is so annoying. She's being lazy with the chores and uses work in school as an excuse. I responded to Macy and also sent her. her a screenshot from earlier. Macy said,

Oh, wow, that's pretty rude. I then plugged in my phone and went to sleep. The next day, I avoided Ray all day as I was pretty hurt and annoyed. Plus, I needed to focus on my classes. She acted like nothing had happened, which pissed me off more. That night, I got a text from my friend Christine, sending me a screenshot of something Ray had texted to her. The text read,

Bella's being such a bitch. She's ignoring me because I called her out on chores. I sent Christine the same thing that I sent to Macy, and explained what was happening in a simple manner. Christine said, I'm so sorry, you don't deserve that. As your friend, I just thought you should know. I thanked her and went on with my knight.

So, at this point, noted, Ray doesn't apologize and she's also a backstabber. From here on out, I barely spoke to Ray. I continued to do my chores that week, do my thing, and hang out with other friends outside of the apartment. Throughout the next few weeks, Ray and I barely spoke. I continued on with my schedule and seeing other friends, including some of our mutual friends.

During this time, I kept getting texts about things Ray, had been sending people and posting about me. I found out the reason that I never saw this stuff was because, one, I was too busy to check social media often, and two, she had supposedly blocked me and I just hadn't noticed. I became very uncomfortable being in my own apartment, and on my free time I would crash at some of my best friend's places. It just got worse from here, though. From what other people sent, she'd.

began posting really, really scary things about how she wanted to murder me for being messy, despite me doing my part every single time and remaining super clean. And her posts became very threatening. I began feeling very unsafe at my own place. While some said that she wasn't being super legitimate about it, I feel like anything such as what she was posting should have been taken very seriously. Another post on her Facebook said, I seriously think I'm going to murder my roommate.

I hate living with her. And I'm doing the dishes, and it is taking everything out of me not to barge into her room while she's sleeping with my butcher knife. Ha ha ha ha, ha, a bitch deserves to die. I took those screenshots that my friends had sent me, and I sent them to my dad, who had actually met her dad when they helped us move in.

My dad immediately called Ray's dad And her dad supposedly contacted her and threatened to pull her out of school And have her go back home to the northeast As these posts are a serious threat And that Bella and her dad will take this to the police If you make one more post And I will personally come drag you out of there and get you back home I was so glad that her dad wasn't on her side

But that made her even angrier I began to keep my bedroom door locked 24-7. Shortly after this, she began, successfully, picking the lock at my door and I could tell that she was going through my stuff while I was gone. I had to change the lock and get a new key for my bedroom door. I had a locksmith come when she was at work. This lock was much harder to pick. She would handwrite disgustingly nasty notes to me and leave them all over the house.

She would also post on social media that I was a fat pig, despite the fact that my BMI was already a bit too low, and my doctor told me I needed to put on some weight, and that I was a POS, despite doing nothing mean or threatening to her. I told my dad what had been further going on, and he contacted Ray's dad again, and her dad had now had enough. Both of our dads flew down the next day, and they spoke to the leasing office.

Her dad had her break her lease and forced her to pay for it. Unfortunately, she stayed in the building and got a one-bedroom two floors below me, but she never bothered me again, because my dad and I had threatened to press charges had she ever made a single post or spoke to me again. Those screenshots would then go to the police. It gets even worse. After she moved out, I discovered that roughly $5,000 worth of my jewelry,

and all of my heirlooms that I will never get back were missing. She stole all of them. I hid the bag so insanely well, and, being a dumbass, I didn't have a fire safe. And it was hidden so well that, at times, I even forgot where I put it. That's how deeply she was searching through my stuff. I filed a police report, and unfortunately there was technically no proof, so there was nothing they could do about it. At this point, everyone hated her and thought that she was crazy.

I let her keep Charla because she didn't have an allergy to cats and I did, which I didn't even know until after we adopted her. She would also keep the cat from me anyways, so it was really her cat at this point. She lost every friend because of this. Her dad had been helping her out a bit and cut her off completely. and she had to get a second job and also apply for student loans. Luckily, she really did never bother me again, but aside from the main lock,

I still had a padlock installed and would leave it closed when I was home. Final update. It's been five years now, and Ray supposedly moved back to the northeast, and has a two-and-a-half-year-old kid now and is a single mother. Word has it that he would rather not be in his child's life if it meant he had to deal with her one more time

which says a lot. I can't even imagine what she did to him. And to be honest, I feel so terrible for the child. Lastly, I later found out that she was bragging to someone how she knew how to clean up a murder and deal with a dead body and get away with it. But that wasn't told to me until I moved out at the same. city itself in 2019 because the person she said it to didn't want to scare me.

Plus, everyone knew that she was scared to bother me at this point, including this person. She was supposedly officially diagnosed by a psychiatrist as a certified psychopath a bit later on. So, yeah, I lived with a diagnosed psychopath who I genuinely think would have stabbed me to death with a butcher's knife in my sleep, had my friends not been loyal and sent me her post, and had I not taken action and reached out to my dad. I had no idea that she even had any horrible side to her whatsoever for so long, way too long, actually, which is beyond terrifying. It's why I now trust so few people. Psychopaths are really good at hiding their true colors, and anyone can be one, and half the time you would have no idea,

unless you got to know them very well, very well. I live in another city two hours away, and I've been here for over three years now. I refuse to ever have another roommate again after leaving said city, where I went to college, and I'm so happy. I have a best friend here that I can trust with my life, and a serious boyfriend of four years. So, goodbye, Ray.

The joke is on you. I hope that you don't end up killing anyone, and I hope that you continue to have a lame life. Back in 2016, one of my best friends was getting married, and she wanted me to be her maid of honor. I was so ecstatic for them as her girlfriend was a sweetheart, and if there ever was a couple that was meant for each other,

it was them. There was no way that I was going to miss it, so I made plans to drive out there. They moved to Michigan and I was living in Wisconsin. They had already gotten themselves a nice little house, so thankfully I was invited to stay with them, which also meant that I didn't have to leave my little pup Lenny at home. He was a shelter rescue that my mom had been fostering, and I fell in love with him. I was working on training him, so I didn't want to leave him with my mom or anything, and lose the progress. I couldn't afford to take the boat across the lake, so I was planning on driving around it,

which meant about seven to eight hours on the road. That wasn't a big deal, though, as I was a grade school teacher, and we were on summer breaks, so I had no real time restraints either. So, I packed up my things, and I headed out for a great week. I was actually looking forward to sightseeing, and since I had left ahead of schedule, I was able to make my own stops along the way.

I may have also gotten carried away and lost track of time, too, as it was starting to get late. I made sure to have extra money so that I could stay at a hotel, either on my way there or home. I thought I would drive as much as my eyes could stand, that way I had less to drive the next morning and more time to explore. I was planning on going another hour or so, but Lenny started whimpering. He was still young, so I knew I was going to have to pull over as soon as possible.

The road was pretty empty where I was, and maybe it was because it was so late, so I stopped on the shoulder that had some trees and grass on the other side of the guard right, I carried Lenny over the side and stood next to him, stretching some while holding on to the leash. I suddenly started getting this weird feeling like I wasn't alone, like I was being watched. It was odd because I was on the side of this random highway with no one else around. I looked around the trees, though, thinking maybe there was a deer or other wildlife in the area that I was honing in on, but I couldn't see anything. Then, I noticed that Lenny seemed to be doing the same thing.

I watched as he scanned the field in front of us, and did a double take in the direction of one cluster of trees. I tried focusing as much as possible to see if I could see something, when all of a sudden I saw a small figure run between two trees. It startled me, so I gasped a little and immediately looked down at Lenny. He kept turning his head to the side and whimpering. I was not comfortable with this situation, especially since Lenny was confirming that something was there, so I snatched him up and rushed back to my car and drove off.

Lenny sat up, looking out the window, going back and forth from the front to the back, like he was trying to find something. It definitely was not making me feel any better, so I wanted to keep going until he stopped, thinking maybe if he couldn't sense it anymore, then I was safe to stop. When he finally gave up, I stopped at the next exit for a hotel.

Unfortunately, I kept running into ones that had no vacancy, or no pets allowed, and the one that did, was way too expensive for me. So, I decided to find a well-lit parking lot and just sleep in my car. I found a grocery store that was closed, but had lights in the parking lot, so I parked in the furthest one in the back, took Lenny out one more time, and then positioned myself to sleep for the night. The next morning, I started waking up and was still in that half-a-sleep, half-a-week state,

and I could hear the nearby trees moving from the wind, or other cars passing by, but was still trying to sleep while I could since I wasn't hearing Lenny yet. But then I started hearing what sounded like whispering. Again, feeling like I was asleep still, I thought I was just dreaming. All I was seeing was darkness and hearing whispers. Some were louder than others, like they were closer, but all were in, coherent. I couldn't make out any words or conversations being had until I heard, wake up, being clearly whispered in my ear. It was almost as if I could feel the air being pushed

by my ear. Not only was this whispered, but it also felt like someone had yanked on my arm. This made me jump up immediately to see that I was still in my car, alone, besides Lenny, who was now wide awake looking out my window behind me. I turned around and didn't see anyone there, or anything there. I sat there for a minute gathering my thoughts and catching my breath. The sun was just coming up because it was still a little dark, but there was no way that I was going to be able to sleep anymore, so I set off. I found a McDonald's close by and stopped, so we could both gather ourselves,

and get ready for the rest of the drive. Between the night before and my abrupt awakening, I was done with Michigan, and I was ready to get to my destination. I made minimal stops along the way, and when I finally arrived, I teased them about Michigan being haunted and explained to them what had happened.

They had no explanation at the time for the things in the trees, but they said that the place I stopped, to sleep in was known as the dangerous part of town. Lots of break-ins, robberies, and there was even one store that was set on fire due to a

disagreement between employees and management. So, they teased it was probably a spirit protecting innocent people in the area, and it was trying to get me out of there. It was really weird, and that's where I left it.

I was indebted. I was indebted. different when it came to the paranormal because I had never experienced anything, but I don't know how else to explain what happened. The wedding, the after-party, all of it was fun, and very little went wrong or was stressful. It was a good time after that, but I made sure to leave early so I could get home the same day, because I didn't want any more run-ins with whatever was living out there. Now, the reason that I was reminded of this was because I was watching a video on YouTube with different cryptids by state,

seeing if there were any interesting ones in Wisconsin, when I learned about melonheads. They were apparently seen in a few different states, and one of those was Michigan. It was mentioned that they escaped the felt mansion, as they were being tested on there, and now they live in the woods. attacking people. I wasn't far from where the mansion was, and all I could think about was the thing in the woods. Did I encounter a melonhead by chance? It still doesn't explain the weird whispering.

All I know, though, is that the next time we get together, they're either coming to me, or I'm saving up to take the boat across the lake. So, me and a group of friends, me, a female, my ex-boyfriend, my friend female, and the other was male, that's important to know, we took a night of visiting abandoned places. Now, where I live, there's not many, or they're protected by dogs, and I don't fancy having my leg chewed off. So we all dressed in clothes that we knew we could throw away from mold and other things being in the place,

and we decided to go to the furthest one away, which was an abandoned Swingers Club. Just to clarify, none of us were swingers. We arrived at a petrol station halfway down from the literal mansion, walked down the side of the motorway, and were finally greeted by a fence and a small brick wall. We all helped each other get over and supported each other's balance getting through the back.

Some backstory to this club, A few years ago, some idiot said it on fire, because they thought it was funny. So the upstairs was caved in, and everywhere looked like it had been smashed up. Anyway, back to the story. We got in, walked through the main lobby. There was a massive swimming pool and some pretty artwork on the wall that you can just about see. We looked around, took photos, etc. We walked out the front, and this was where the first interaction had.

happened. I looked up into the front, and I was the one behind everyone else. I was taking photos, and someone grabbed my shoulder and yanked it back, but there was nobody behind me, just the big gates. So I was a little freaked out, and I asked the others if they had felt it, and they all said no. My ex-boyfriend at the time had a bat in his hand, and we walked back in. We were going to visit the Dungeons, but as we walked over there, there was a clown mask hanging from a rope, and bear in mind, it was not there when we came in. We would have seen it. So I literally said F this, I'm out. I started walking towards the entrance, and before we left, one of the boys had collected a teddy bear and put it in his car. We didn't drive more than five minutes, and the radio and lights

went mad on the dashboard. It didn't take long. for the friends to lob the teddy bear out the window. The second building that we went to was an old pub. The back was open, so we got in through there. Everything looked like it hadn't been touched, and that they just got up and left. So I took some photos of the bar, and all of them posing as barmen and women.

After we looked around, the two boys wanted to go upstairs, so we said, cool. We'll wait in the car and watch you. As we watched them, a tall, dark, black figure was walking around behind them. I tried to ring my ex-boyfriend, but it was like trying to get through to someone on a radio. They came back downstairs, and I said what I saw, and what they said next was spine-chilling. So all the floors are normal, bedrooms, with the mattresses all stood up?

I said, yeah, and he proceeded with, you get to the top floor, and it's empty, with just a chair in the middle, a belt, and a photo of a young girl sat on the empty chair. Nothing else, just a belt in the photo of the young girl. For some reason, I agreed to go back in after this to see for myself. I got to the stairs door, and everything in my body froze, and I said I didn't want to go. Now, you know, boys being boys arguing with me over the fact that I was scared or whatever, but this was my body purely refusing to move.

So they said all right, and they took me back to the car, and as we were leaving, a pint glass went flying at one of the boys' heads, and the toilet door slammed shut. When I tell you they all ran, they all ran. Now, fun fact, where this place is was where the highwayman was born and raised. Turns out, I'm somehow related to the guy, but it's highly paranormal in the caves up top. So was that him protecting me as a cousin or distant uncle?

I'll never know. RBC Training Ground has discovered potential in over 20,000 Canadian athletes and county. Your story could be next. If you've got the drive, they'll help you find your path to the Olympics. Let's see what you've got. Sign up for free at rbc training ground.ca. I don't know if I can tell this one on an online story, YouTube or not. It's not for kids.

It's a true story, but I won't say exactly where it was or use names. This happened around 2004 or 5. I was in college and I lived with my much older boyfriend in a four-bedroom apartment complex. It had two shared bathrooms, one between each two rooms. It has one shared kitchen in the middle of each building. It was the cheapest place in the college town that I live in.

Cars were broken into and slumlord management, etc. I think we paid $450 a month for that room back then. For the northernmost part of the West Coast, it was cheap back then. Typical Tweekertown, poverty, no jobs, etc. There was a peculiar lady who lived in the bedroom caddy corner to us. I guess she was around 55, but she could have been 70. I didn't know how old, but her beetle posters clued me into her generation. She wouldn't say her age, actually.

Anyways, she was on disability and basically laid in bed all day, surrounded by dusty old knick-knacks and watched old movies, like black and white movies. She was sick with a stomach thing, headaches, and mental issues. My boyfriend helped her with a few things, and she ended up talking to me a few times about her sad life. He wasn't the greatest guy, and he told me that he'd talked her into giving him a pain pill.

So she must have been sick, but then again pain pills were common in the early 2000s, prescribed by doctors who felt sorry for people. in any type of pain. I never heard an actual named disease or condition. She just told us about the adult daughter that she never saw, and parents who she hated but paid her rent. Anyways, months pass, and I one day noticed the windshield on her car was smashed.

A day later, she was giving things away by setting them near her car with a free sign. When I asked her, she seemed ambivalent. to the broken windshield. I was pretty ambivalent to her, because she tended to talk too long and sort of trap you in conversations. She mostly had just bought leaders of soda and donuts, twinkies, which she had lying around her room.

She was super skinny, too, even though all she ate was junk food, probably malnourished. So, Halloween night was very close then. On the big party night, I was drinking a shot of vodka in the kitchen before a party when she came into the shared kitchen and began asking me if she could have a shot, and I obliged. My boyfriend was a lightweight and already passed out from two shots, so he was useless. Otherwise, I'd have left him with her to, like, talk with her. She was an older lady, and at that time, I trusted that someone older than.

than me knew how to handle alcohol. I had no reason not to share on a holiday, as I was jolly and excited to go out. After a few shots together, I went to leave, and she asked if she could come along with me. I was only 19, and I was looking to hook up with friends and thinking that this old toothless lady would not be fun to babysit. Plus, she was in a nightgown, an old-fashioned nightgown like a little rich girl in white lace. She acted odd, not just drunk, but also like she believed that she was my peer, and didn't understand why I wanted to go alone. Anyways, I was irritated by her and I just wanted to

leave. Big mistake. That is the part that I regret. I left her. I gave her the rest of the bottle, as I felt bad. I made an excuse, I can't recall, and I left in a hurry. The party was okay, and I crashed when I got home around three or four in the morning. About four days after Halloween, neither my boyfriend nor I had seen her. One day as I pulled up from work, an ambulance in hazmat truck was in front of our apartments. It turned out, the poor woman had taken an entire bottle of her pain pills and drank the entire bottle that I had left with her. Then, she locked herself in her room. At the last minute she tried to crawl to the door to get out and was trying to vomit up the pills.

She died up against the door. The EMTs had to yank the inner door off from inside the kitchen because she was stuck up against it. She was gone when I came in, but there were stains on the kitchen floor from her being removed, like stains that smelled and were obviously bodily fluids. I cleaned it up with bleach. as I felt responsible. At the moment, I was mopping, her super-elderly parents showed up. They didn't say a word to me, but the look they gave me was nothing less than pure hatred.

Like, it was my fault that she lived in a crappy slum. Or maybe they thought I was white trash, as the woman told me all the time that she was from a rich family. They went into her room, and they closed the door, into her coffin that they had ended up paying for. I felt bad, and I still will for a long time. Regardless of how physically and mentally ill she was, I wish that I hadn't given her the vodka. I didn't know anything about adult protective services or reporting self-neglect of disabled folks back then either.

From now on, I pay special attention to individuals' mental states, and I try to help where I can. I had no idea that giving away all your stuff and acting manic, We're weird at that age. Anyways, if someone acts odd, just call the cops for a welfare check. It would have saved her life for as long as it could have, at least. I grew up in a family that very much believed in the existence of the paranormal. My grandmother was very religious, and my family ourselves have experienced many things, strange and unusual.

We've experienced quite a few unsettling things. I personally have seen shadow people, to waking up to three scratch marks running down my back, a shadow entity of some descriptions sitting on my bed when I opened my bedroom door, my sisters reporting seeing similar humanoid shadows, my mother also had a very confronting encounter with some sort of ghost or spirit suddenly appearing in her bedroom. screaming, how do you know so much about us, before quickly disappearing as quickly as it came.

Due to these instances, there was not much that phased us. In around 2015, my family experienced what would be one of the strangest and eerieest things in our lives once we pieced it all together. For background, my grandfather escaped Hungary when the Nazis were in the prime. of their power, and he came to Australia. His passion was always cooking, like many chefs he did have his vices, though. His were cigarettes and horse racing. Even after the indoor smoking ban, he would be regularly caught smoking while doing paperwork

in his office, after service in the kitchen was done, or while looking at the day's races looking which horse to bed on. He smoked the strongest tobacco. that I had ever tried myself called White Ox. I started smoking as a teenager myself, however, it was too much even for me. Fast forward to his retirement, he had nothing better to do than gamble and smoke, and he started doing both more, even driving to get more, despite his driver's license being taken from him on doctor's orders. In around 2015, he wasn't doing very well.

He was struggling to breathe due to emphysema, had cancer, and he was still unwilling to give up cigarettes. He was fine, even though he would have to throw his head back to get a lung full of air. One of my sisters and I were talking in the hallway of our house. We were discussing how I, as his only grandson, could potentially have the best chance at getting my grandfather to come to his senses about his smoking. having kicked the habit myself around a year prior at age 24. Meanwhile, my mother and father are in the living room around 10 meters away. Mid-conversation, my sister and I get interrupted by an extremely loud, drawn-out, wolf-howl. It was almost deafening, and it lasted for around 10 seconds, though it felt much longer.

This shook us quite badly for a couple of reasons. One, we live in the Australian suburbs. There are no wolves native to our area. And two, the sound was coming from between her and I inside the hallway. We freaked out. Hairs standing on end, and we ran for the lounge room. We practically burst through the door, my mother and father staring at us in stunned silence,

while we recounted what just happened. They had heard it themselves, but they assumed that we were playing video games too loudly or watching YouTube. Skip forward a couple of weeks. My grandfather is now in and out of the hospital with his breathing issues, and eventually it got so bad that he ended up there full time, with two breathing tubes in his mouth, feeding oxygen down into his body to keep him alive.

At around the same time as he was being admitted via ambulance to the hospital, hospital. For this now much more serious progression in his illness, I was in my bedroom listening to some creepypastas on YouTube, trying to keep my mind off of things for a while. In between scenes and a story, I hear people running around the house, talking frantically to each other. I assumed they were just being dumb, chasing each other around when my mother opens my bedroom door, and nervously asks, Did you hear that howl? I told her no, as I had been wearing headphones at the time. She explained to me, now accompanied by the same sister who heard the first one and my father,

that it was almost identical to how we described the first time that we heard it in the hallway. Only this time, it was in the lounge room with two new people to witness this odd phenomenon. Around three weeks later, my grandfather is finally showing signs of strength, and they have now removed the breathing tubes so he can breathe on his own. But he has otherwise shown barely any improvement in his condition. Back at home, after we had all been to see him, the whole family, including the older of my two sisters, were eating our fast food dinner in the lounge room.

She had not heard the howling yet. That changed that night. Now, with all five of us present in the lounge room, the howling wolf decided to make itself known one last time. This, like previous times, was just a single howl. This one was just as loud as the others, just as drawn out, but had an almost scream-like quality to it, as if the wolf was in pain.

Needless to say, all of us collectively lost our minds. We all were covered in goosebumps, and the surge of energy and adrenaline that comes. comes from a fight or flight response to an event. It was only around a week after this that my grandfather passed away in the hospital. We didn't think the events were related at the time. Talking about it afterward, however, we put it all together. The howling, his sickness, and the fact that we had never heard it before or since

does make me wonder what exactly this meant. Was it a sign of his upcoming death? Was it a hellhound? Was it a friendly spirit come to escort him to the afterlife? Since talking it over with each other, we still get chills to this day thinking about the wolf's spirit that took our grandfather. When I was 16, I had a bit of a problem with authority.

I snuck out of the house pretty frequently. My parents and I never really had a good relationship, honestly. They were overbearing. and I, like I mentioned, had this weird complex with authority. I had that 16-year-old mentality that I was invulnerable and that no one could touch me or do anything to hurt me. If anyone out there is around that age and has that mindset, let me tell you that you are not invincible.

And this story was my wake-up call to that fact. This happened one time when I had snucked. out and decided I was going to walk to my local gas station for a Red Bull and some candy. I had some cash from my birthday, and it was quickly burning a hole in my pockets, so I figured I could spend about $10 at the station, and it would be good enough for now. It was the middle of spring and around midnight, so I had my window open to get the cool air in anyways. My window was easy to pop the screen out of, which I knew, because I once had to crawl into it when I had forgotten my keys at home one morning during the school year.

So I pushed on the corner of the screen, and sure enough, it popped out of the frame. I quietly crawled my way out into the backyard and was able to get out of the gate without issues. I knew that neither of my parents were going to wake up to any of it. I'd done this enough to know what to do to keep the escape silent, and get away without anyone finding out. I got out of my yard, and I started walking down the road to the gas station down the street. It was about a 20-minute walk from the house to the station. So, I put in my headphones and started listening to some music on my iPod.

I got to the station without issue and walked in. The clerk just kind of stared at me, as he did every time that I walked in alone in the middle of the night. night. I ignored it, grabbed my drink in a few pieces of candy, and then went to the desk to check out. After I put the items on the counter, the clerk just kept staring at me like something was wrong. I was a bit annoyed, so I asked him, what? He then spoke up and asked me how old I was. I lied and told him that I was 17. I don't know why I didn't just say 18, but I figured 17 was enough to be doing what I was doing?

He stared at me with that look of, I know you're BSing me, but rang up my items and told me the total. After I paid, Nt gave me the cash, he leaned in and asked me if I wanted to make some extra money. I shook my head and asked what he was talking about, and then he slowly reached down and grabbed his zipper. I just turned to walk away and told him that he was an effing creep and left.

And while that was creepy, that's actually not where it ended. After leaving and starting my way back home, a pickup actually pulled up behind me and slowed down to match my pace. They didn't get to the point where the window or driver was even with me. They got to the point where they were right behind me and just kept an even pace with me. This kept on for several minutes on the walk. and the second I turned around to see who the hell it was, they slammed on the gas pedal and gunned it past me down the road, and then made an incredibly fast, sharp, right turn.

After this, I figured that I should probably make the trip quicker than I had been going. I was basically speedwalking down the road and was cutting through people's yards to cut the trip short. I turned on to my road, and as soon as I did, who else would be heading in the opposite direction, but the pickup from earlier. As soon as I saw it, I was hoping that it hadn't seen me, but he started speeding up in my direction pretty much immediately.

I booked it as best as I could in my flip-flops, and every time I turned around, the truck was getting closer. I was pushing myself to go as fast as I possibly could, trying to just get to my house so I could get into my backyard. But I knew that I wasn't going to make it. my only hope at this point was to go in the front door and just face the music. Because if I went in the front, I was definitely going to wake up my parents, as it was right by their bedroom door.

I started booking it towards my front door, and, to my surprise, the truck stopped in front of my house. They sat there for a moment, and then screeched out their tires as they gunned it down the road. I stood there for a few seconds, my heart pounding, and was just thinking, Holy shit, what the hell was that? After I was certain that they weren't around anymore, I made my way over to the side of the house,

opened the gate, and then crawled back through my window. As I got back in my room, I could hear my mom and dad talking, specifically my dad asking what the hell was going on, and I heard him opening the front door, I assumed to look out front. I just sat on my bed trying to gather my, thoughts and really piece together what exactly that was.

I honestly think that the guy at the gas station knew someone else that he had called, and that they were planning to grab me off the road. Part of me assumes that, at the beginning, the guy in the truck was on the phone with the attendant, and he was confirming that I was the person that he wanted. They had lost me for a bit until I got over to my street. Obviously, this is just speculation. but it was still creepy as hell, and it was pretty clear that the guy in the truck was trying to scare me or find me.

I think he just gave up when I got to my house. For whatever reason, I really don't know. I really should have told my parents, since this guy now knew where I lived, but nothing else ever came of it, and I never saw the truck again. And though that was the truth, this night could have ended a hell of a lot worse,

This was actually the last time that I snuck out, mostly because I had a feeling that the next time, I wouldn't be so lucky, and my mind just kept playing the scenario that could have happened. It may sound paranoid, but I am a bit of a worst-case scenario-type person. So, the person in the truck and creep that worked at the gas station, I hope that we never meet again.

like ever. And to any young girls out there that have the same mentality that I had back then, I hope you realize that bad things can happen in the blink of an eye, and you are not invincible before you end up in a situation like I was in. I was in Girl Scouts when I was younger. We would go on lots of field trips, and once yearly would take a camping trip with the other local troops. I live in the south, so the campground was an old plantation. The plantation house was at the front of the property, situated at the end of a winding dirt road. Our campsite was pretty far back on the property, with a trail through the woods leading to

cabins, picnic tables, and a latrine. After we settled into our cabins, we ate dinner by the campfire, and our counselor told us the story of the family who used to live at the plantation. They had one daughter named Sarah. Sarah had apparently met an early death, and there were a few different rumors about how that death came about. The most accepted one was that she fell off while mounting her horse and hit her head on the iron hitch.

I don't know if this is the right word. It was a pole in the ground with a ring attached to it for tying horses. He was tied to it, but others believed that it was something more sinister. The next day, our troop ventured up the trail to get a closer look at the main house. It was beautiful. It was surrounded by large moss-covered oak trees and tall swaying grass, a pretty typical southern plantation. There was the main house, an old stable, and a peculiar small white structure attached to the side of it.

kind of like those mini sheds you can buy at the hardware store, but with windows. I can't vouch for the truth behind the campfire tales, but I can tell you with confidence what I saw that day. When we got there, all the girls hurriedly crowded around the small white shed. Inside, was a perfectly preserved tea party for about ten little dolls, all sitting around a table in high chairs in various stages of decay. I don't remember all of their faces, but I will never forget the face of the one at the head of the table. It looked Victorian, with a cracked face and white eyes with no irises or pupils.

That's the doll that killed Sarah, said one of my fellow Girl Scouts. She told me that there was a campfire song about how the doll had stabbed Sarah with a knife in the middle of the night. Some of the other campers that had been there before swore that if you visited you visited, the dollhouse at night, her eyes would glow red. I never got up the courage to go see it for myself. I also never fell asleep that night, and I never went back there again. So I'm 15, but when this story took place, I was 14. I went to a wedding in one of the southern states of the U.S. where I lived.

The Hispanic culture is very large. Nothing wrong with this. It's just relevant to the soul. story. My best friend, we'll call her Stacy, was a close family friend, so my parents allowed me to go to a wedding with them one night in December. Weddings in our area were more of a public thing that's open to the whole town because everyone knows everyone. It was fairly cold outside, but I remember wanting to look pretty in case guys from my friends school were there. So I wore a strapless romper. I'm not sure if this is relevance to what happened or not. Stacey wanted to teach me how to

two-step, as I hadn't danced much before. After a couple of dances, we were sweating from all the moving around, so I told Stacey, hey, let's go back to the table and get something to drink. It's hot in here. So, Stacey followed me off the dance floor, and as we did so, we scouted for boys. A few feet off of the dance floor and an older man who looked to be in his 50s looks me up and down multiple times and I just stood there not knowing what to do. I turned to walk away and Stacy tells me that there's an old guy checking me out. I was a little weirded out. I turned to look at him and he's smiling right at me. Then he comes around to the front of me and he grabs my hand and he says, let's go dance.

I said no, as this seemed inappropriate, because I was only 14. He kept pleading without letting my hand go. Please, we need to go dance. It's a good song and everything. He looks me up and down again, smiling. I keep trying to pull my hand away, but he won't let go.

This whole time, Stacey had left me to go find her dad so he could tell the old. guy off. I finally pull my hand away and I tell him that I need to find my parents. It was a lie as they weren't even there. I go to Stacey and I feel like crying. This event made me feel so gross and dirty. We went to the bathroom and I looked in the mirror in shock. I couldn't dance for the rest of the night. We just sat down and drank. Eventually the guy ended up getting kicked out of the wedding for being inappropriate. It just scares me to wonder what could have happened if I did give him that dance. Hi Reddit. I just found this group and really am enjoying it, so I wanted to share one of

my scares that occurred around five years ago. I would love to hear people's opinions, since I have heard many different explanations of this event, from those that I have told. I live in a small town in the northwest, a pretty mountainous area with lots of trees. On this particular night, myself and two friends decided to go on a drive for something to do. It was my friends, T.J. and Nathan, I don't just call them that, who got together in T.J.'s old, worn-down 2006 W-R-X. I was in the passenger seat with Nathan in the back. We decided to go down the same. We decided to go down the same. windy side road that only has trees and the occasional house spread out randomly. There's also an active nunnery on this road, and an old worn-down and abandoned school.

This particular night was dark with rain pouring so fast that TJ's old windshield wipers couldn't entirely keep up with it. As we're speeding down this road, just being about stupid stuff, we start to see something in the distance. On the left side, over the white barrier line for cars, was someone walking with a large backpack. Right when we got close enough to where we could make him out a bit more, he stopped walking instantly, stood up straight, threw his backpack on the ground, and made a dead sprint for our car.

T.J. had to yank the wheel hard to the right to not hit the guy throwing us into the dirt, and almost rolling down a cliff. Looking left while this was going on, I saw the man's face, super pale with glazed over eyes, kind of like those eyes that blind people have. He had white hair and was a bit rigid, but had this crazied look about him. His hand was extended toward us like he was trying to grab us or the door. We managed to get away, but his face is still in my mind today. right after this happened

I was expressing how crazy that was to T.J. and Nathan. Turns out, Nathan was on the phone the whole time and was just trying to figure out why we yanked the car and slammed on the brakes. T.J. wasn't responding at all as we were inching down the road. I asked him three times, and we ended up shaking him in order to get him to snap out of it. I made him pull over and I started to drive us to the nearest. gas station, and we then called the cops to tell them someone was trying to kill themselves on the road. Seems like a guy who was just drugged out, but there's one other very weird fact about this event.

Right after we passed the guy, I noticed a car come up and pass us as T.J. was going very slow due to the shock, not even 30 seconds after this happened. They didn't slow down or swerve at all when passing the area that we were just in. Since it was so dark and still raining outside, I couldn't see the guy in the road at all from just looking through the back windows of the car. We also saw another car shortly going the opposite way down the road, and they also did not slow down at the same spot. We had the encounter with the guy.

I'm not sure what this was. Drugs, attempted suicide, or something paranormal. I love to board of Via Rai. Embarked and profite. Embarked and celebrate. Rigolet. Publiere. Savoy. Admire. Admire. And profite. Via Rai. The voice that we love riding my bike at night. Being able to go out with no music and just listen to the night's sounds. It was always so therapeutic for me. I didn't need any music to drown out the other people or cars past. passing. I could listen to the wind as it weaved through the trees or ran through my hair. I could listen to the crickets chirp and the frogs croak in the creek running along the side of the road,

or even just the sound of my tire spinning as I glided along the road. I worked a later shift, so I was usually home around 9 or 10 p.m. I'd go change and then head out for an hour or so before I went back home to shower and go to bed. On this night, I didn't have to work the next day, and I was really itching for something new. So, I decided to ride a little further and off the path that I normally took. I went around the block as I normally do, cut across the street, and passed the gas station. I was now further than I had ever really gone. I didn't feel uneasy or nervous, though.

I actually almost had a second wind in. me exploring a new area. There was an underdeveloped area nearby, as new homes were being built, so I told myself I would ride around and there and then start heading back. That way, I didn't wear myself out, making the ride back exhausting. I was going over all of these newly paved roads, making it one of the smoothest rides that I've ever been on. It also made it extremely quiet.

where it was just my tires and the crickets in the distance. Until I started hearing singing, or humming, rather. At first I thought it was just another person enjoying the night, until it finally registered where I was. There were no houses here yet. It was just the road along the outside of the soon-to-be homes. There were a few foundations laid out, and frames set up.

up, but no actual houses. Why would there be people around? I slowed down a bit so I could hear the singing better. The song sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. It was just the music, though, as I mentioned, no lyrics. As I went around the bend, the humming got louder, and I could make out the song. It was Stand By Me. I could almost sing along with it, with.

how good the humming actually was. I stopped my bike and began to look around between the few construction machines and frames with the flashlight on my phone. As I walked past one of the plots and around a pile of dirt and rocks, I could see a woman sitting in the dirt swaying from side to side. I just stood there for a few seconds watching and listening to her.

The song came to an end, and after a few seconds, she just started singing again. My clumsy ass, however, missed the dip in the ground in front of me, causing me to stumble a bit. When I did this, I of course made a gasp, and there was probably a sound as I tried to regain my balance. All of this was enough to cause her to stop singing and swaying.

She slowly stood up but never turned around to face me. The whole situation was pretty eerie, but I didn't, really feel scared until she stood up. My fight or flight instincts kicked in, and I immediately apologized and turned around to go back. As I kicked the stand and got back on, she began screaming. It made me jump, and I took off as fast as I could on the bike. The whole time, she continued screaming as I rode away. Even after I was out of the new neighborhood, I could still hear her screaming in the distance.

I crossed the streets, so I was on the same side of the lights the way home, and when I got there, I quickly put my bike on my patio instead of my garage like usual, ran inside, and locked the door. I've told a few friends about this, and we all laugh about it now, but holy hell that was one of the creepiest things I have ever experienced. And no, I haven't gone back, but there are a few houses there now. and I guess good luck to them. 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, podcast, please do consider giving it 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 on the next episode of this podcast. And of course, until then, sleep well.