As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 038 - Creepy Hospital and Restaurant Stories - 10 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: August 12, 2022

Hello and Welcome to the 38th episode of The ATRD Podcast! Today we have some intriguing and terrifying stories submitted by everyday people. In Today's Episode we will be listening to stories about the horrors of the hospital, as well as some creepy Restaurant stories! ➤ 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... Sammy, Alyssa, Maliza, TheDrIsOut, MikeEgg, NoNameNeeded, Soda, TroyYort, Jasmine G., and 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

Lazang surgellied, Puisance Moines for 15 minutes. We're like it's the hour dojo. Prere to play. Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo.

The casino in line that proposes the most recent machine-as-a-sue to play-to-cass-Ban-Dier. Profite of 50 tours gratu on Big Bas-Banza.

Without exigance with the payment instantane. Hey, I've gained. Woo-hoo! Sentire the pleasure. Play-Ojo. 18-10 and plus,

1-Depos only depose only depot only depose $1Bus Bonanza. Depos Minimimimimum of $10. Veillage, I'm in a fashion responsible. The conditions apply.

When you were little, you've been brassed in course of recreat, always in trying to negotiate, to change the cards of hockey, the bonoom, the bracelets,

even of the collation. You know that each thing has a value, well, before the time to have been the things are

not really changed. Negoti T.D. you can't to renewing with your instinct of with your

unoberation without operation gratuit, no amount of minimum and nocule, you're made for negotiate,

and the Then negotiate your T-D and make to help you. Telecharge it right now. If you have a story you would like to hear featured on this podcast, please go to ashtheravendreams.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. Back in 2004, I started getting these really weird pains in my side. And since I didn't have the best insurance,

I tried to tough it out and take over the counter medications to make it go away. But when the pain worsened to the point that I had to call in for work, my mom rushed me to the hospital, because she actually found me passed out on my bathroom floor. I had called her and told her about what was happening, and she suggested that I go to the doctor. I'm just thankful that I agreed to let her drive me there that day. So I went to the ER, and I found out that I had appendicitis that ended up causing my

appendix to rupture. They were shocked that I still went to work when I did, because people typically are in way too much pain, not to mention the vomiting and other unpleasant symptoms. I just hid them really well. This caused me to stay in the hospital for several days, as I had to have surgery and then recover, of course. The surgery was pretty immediate, so I remember being given the anesthetic, and my mom's saying that she'll see me soon. Then I was out. I remember dreaming a bit, but I could still hear what I assume was the doctor and nurses in surgery,

based on what they were saying. At one point, the tone in the doctor's voice seemed to change to, someone that was angry or stressed maybe. As the patient lying there without being able to move or talk or even open my eyes, it was pretty terrifying. Then I felt a sharp pain in my side, and I passed out again. When I woke up, I was in a hospital room with an oxygen tube under my nose. I can move my arms, which also had an IV in it, but I couldn't seem to move my legs.

I figured it was just because I was too weak and gave in to going in and out of sleep. I woke up a few times to see a nurse coming in and checking my vitals. At one point, there was one particular nurse that came in that I remembered quite well. She had short curly hair, and she wore one of those hairnets over at all, almost like what I remember the ladies wearing in the cafeteria in high school. She was always wearing red lipstick and had a fair complexion. On top of this, she was wearing an old-fashioned nurse uniform, not the normal scrubs that I saw all the other nurses in.

Regardless of what she was wearing, though, she was beautiful, but also soft-spoken and very kind. I encountered her on multiple occasions, and at times that I seemed even remotely upset or uncomfortable, she was quick to console me. The first time I met her, she had come in to check the machine and IV that I was hooked to, and when she noticed I was awake, she greeted me and told me her name, Beth. She said that if I needed anything, to just call for her and she'd be in.

She talked to me a bit about what all happened to me, because I was curious, and my mom also wasn't around. She told me that my body seemed to want to give up when it was confronted by an infection, but she wouldn't let that happen. She told me that the surgery went fine otherwise, and I would just be here till I fully recovered. It sounded about right based on what I heard while in surgery, and I'm also not a doctor, so I had no reason to question it. I mentioned that she was there to console me

because I felt like I was there for a few days when I thought that I should have been able to leave by now. I would feel some discomfort at times, but Beth was always there to put an end to it. I would start getting upset because I hadn't seen my mom, and it was really not like her to just not be there. I was, and still am very close to her, so to not see her when I woke up in my room, and what I presume was at least three days after, started to really get to me. I asked Beth about it, and she looked a bit upset. She was still smiling, but you could tell that it was a forced smile.

She told me that she wanted to see me too, but it seemed like I was struggling to let her in. I was confused what she meant by that, since it wasn't like I could stop anyone from coming into the room. I told her that I wasn't stopping her and requested that the next time she saw her to tell her, or even demand that she come in to see me. She said she would do as I asked, but again then said, You need to let her through. I was confused, but I let it go, because I was frustrated and confused,

but still felt weak and constantly tired. It had to be about a week of me being there, going between pleasant conversations with Beth and being angry that I was only being told I can leave when I want, but for some reason I never did just get up. and leave and I had no idea why I was also still confused as to why my mom was nowhere around I felt bad but I pretty much snapped at Beth saying things like I'm done with this and I don't want to be here anymore that was the only time that I had seen her frown she grabbed my hand

and while her skin was soft it was also very cold which made me jump a bit She looked me in the eyes and said, Sam, you need to leave. It's not your time, and your mother is worried about you. I just remembered being even more flustered, and I started crying saying that I'm trying, and that I didn't want to be there. That's when, while smiling again,

she smacked me across the face. This stopped me in my tracks, and I just looked at her. She turned and left the room, and again said, just go, please, and left the room. I just sat there pretty much pouting until I fell asleep again. Except this time, I could hear my mom talking. She was on the phone because it was a one-sided conversation. I turned my head to see her pacing over by the window and talking.

But once she noticed me looking at her, she pretty much screamed my name and dropped the phone. She ran over to my side, crying, and asking me so many questions when a nurse came in as well. I told her I was fine other than feeling weak, and I asked her where she had been. She said that she'd been there the whole time, and the nurse checked my eyes, asked me what my name is, what day it was. They both seemed surprised when I said the correct date. She asked me if I'd been awake this whole time, and when I said yes, the nurse looked suspicious of me and said that she would call for the doctor.

While we waited, my mom explained further what she had witnessed. I had been in a coma for about six days. The surgery seemed to go fine, but then the infection or something caused by my appendix had spread, and I pretty much flatlined in surgery. They got me stable again but had to proceed with caution in surgery, and told my mom to prepare for the worst-case scenario. The whole time, my mom had been in the room with me, talking, trying to do or say anything to try and get me to wake up,

but nothing was working. I was confused, because everything that I had experienced and told her about Nurse Beth. She told me I never had a nurse named Beth, and none of them matched the description that I gave. My mom thought it was weird, but chalked it up to being part of the coma, and just couldn't get over the fact that I was back. Unfortunately, I was there for a few more days after that,

with my mom and a few less pleasant nurses, but to do more tests and make sure that I was good to leave and practice walking since I hadn't in about a week now. I couldn't get over the whole experience I had. witnessed after my surgery. Obviously, I had to have dreamt all that, but the whole experience felt so real. It was hard to believe that none of it happened. And who was this very specific nurse that I only seemed to see or have interactions with?

I told my friends about it, and even my mom a few more weeks after leaving the hospital. She said that she may have been my guardian angel, making sure that she was that she was a that I was okay, and probably even trying to get me to wake up, without being creepy about it, I guess. It always stayed in the back of my mind. Until one time, a few years later, my grandma had to go to that same hospital, and my mom and I went to visit her. I offered to go to the cafeteria to get us all a drink, and next to it was a wall of photos

of previous owners, and I think people that donated to the hospital. To my surprise, I saw a picture of an older woman that looked just like Nurse Beth, and the nameplate even said Elizabeth. I looked into it when I went home, and I found out that she was a nurse there. I found a picture of her in almost the exact same uniform, same hair, same makeup that I remembered her in. She had donated a lot of money and time to the hospital and was well known to many. She sadly succumbed to breast cancer at the age of 54,

but they made a memorial for her in the back garden of the hospital. I'm now convinced that she's still there, taking care of her patients the best way that she can, and I think that I have her to thank for literally smacking some sense into me. Back in the 80s, I thought that I was strong enough to work in a children's psychiatric hospital. I loved kids. I always wanted them, so I thought that this was a good way for me to be involved and help those that could use an adult figure. Many of the kids that I saw come in there had real disorders or had experienced traumatic events that will probably always affect them. But then, there were also cases where the kids just seemed a bit more eccentric,

and their parents didn't know how to handle them. So this was the easiest option for them. I was warned by several people to never let your guard down, always keep an open mind, and don't take everything at face value. But things always look easier until you actually try it for yourself, right? That pretty much summed me up when I was. I went in to this job. One day, we got this little girl that I'll call Shelby.

Shelby was about eight, I believe, and on the surface seemed to be a very kind and intelligent girl. When she first came in, she was very quiet and shy, and I actually saw her sitting alone, reading, or coloring. When a patient comes in, though, we have an entrance interview to kind of get an idea of what they may be suffering from, and what kind of treatment we could do to help them. I didn't get to attend hers, but I heard from the other staff that it went pretty normal. She was healthy on the outside, but when they talked to her about her thoughts, all she really said was,

sometimes I think about bad things, and I can't help it. They tried to clarify, but they said that she didn't or wouldn't go into her. detail. She wouldn't even specify if it was when she was mad or scared, or if it was brought on by specific incidents, or anything like that either. Now, this was normal to C-2. Sometimes the kids didn't really open up to anyone for a few sessions, or some, sadly, seemed to be even rehearsed by parents that just wanted them out. So, we were told to proceed as normal, keep an eye out and report anything that she may do or say to us. Doing what I did best, I tried to get the girl to open up some,

and maybe even play with the other kids. My thought was, they are still children, so they should still get to play and enjoy their childhood. I approached Shelby multiple times with just small talk and different activities to see if she would be interested in any of them. As expected, was hesitant, but she slowly started letting her walls down. It was innocent enough at first. She talked to me about her mom, her bedroom, how much she missed it and couldn't wait to go back.

She even told me things that she liked to do, such as quilting with her mother and paper machet. I thought it was pretty impressive, and thought maybe I could get the supers to get more crafting supplies to do something similar. We had outdoor days on occasion for those that were a lower-level threat, and I remember going and playing some hopscotch with Shelby. After some time, we stopped and just sat on the bench talking about random things. When she stopped mid-sentence to ask, how long do you think it takes for a person to bleed out? I, of course, didn't know how to respond, so I, I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't.

just said something like, I have no idea, and I asked her why she asked. She just shrugged, and it was as if it was the same conversation we were having, she said, I don't know, as she giggled and returned to our original statements.

I had to tell the staff about it, unfortunately, in case it was a potential safety issue, and they were surprised. They said that she wouldn't talk or open up to anyone else, She'd been sharing a room with another low-risk girl, but this conversation made them go in and take any potential dangers or risks out of the room. She seemed a little upset that we had to remove some of the supplies,

but she didn't cause a scene or act out or anything because of it. She just seemed to understand. The weird conversations didn't stop, though. Again, I was talking to her about something unimportant when she stopped and asked me, how much force would it take to break someone's neck? I was stunned, and again shrugged like I didn't know.

But she continued into this a little while longer. She was holding a stuffed animal at the time and was pretty much acting out what she meant. She continued on asking things like, I wonder if it would be easier to just squeeze it? Or maybe if you step on it, or maybe throw something on it. This whole time she was acting out on the little stuffed animal. I did my best to hide my reactions to this, but she didn't seem phased either,

as she then wrapped up the conversation and went back to talking about what we were talking about before. I was in shock. I know it may seem stupid now, but everything about her seemed... I was so curious as to what made her like this, and even a little sad that she was so young and had thoughts like those. She shouldn't even have known what any of that meant. Again, I went back to the leads and told them what she had mentioned to me, and they asked me to sit in on one of her interviews to see if maybe I could get her to talk more. I agreed, but the conversation wasn't much more in depth than what I was getting before. We definitely tried to steer the conversations, talking about what she wanted, and then changing the subject to something like the above.

She would ask, what's the quickest way for someone to die? Is it easy to suffocate people? Can you suffocate yourself, and so on? It was apparently enough for them to state that she shouldn't be sharing a room with anyone, and so she was moved to a single room. She was not happy with that idea, though, and decided that she was. she didn't want to leave her room for about a week. She didn't do anything violent or destroy the room or anything. She just sat at the little desk that was in there, staring at the wall. She even got some of her supplies back, like her paper, crayons, and paint.

But when she did use them, they were simple pictures and doodles, nothing like she used to do. When she finally decided to come back out into the living area, she proceeded as she normally did. coloring with the stuffed animal next to her, but she really didn't want to talk with me at that point. So, I left her alone. Everything seemed fine. We did our rounds, and we even had a camera room where security could watch it as well. It was the 80s, as I mentioned, so the cameras weren't the best, and they kind of flipped between them all, but they did a great job watching them.

Shelby asked for something specific to drink like orange juice or milk, so I decided to go get some. I thought I would do a special treat for the kids, as we were able to do that sometimes, and I started gathering drinks and snacks with the cafeteria staff. As I was heading back, I heard someone call a code brown. That was for when a kid was missing. It didn't happen often, but sometimes,

they tried to leave, sometimes they just wandered off to hide, so I was on alert and ready to start searching, but I will say that I wasn't too terribly worried at that point, until I got back up to the living area and started hearing more calls for Red and all security. Red meant that there was violence, and that they were calling in for help. That's where I began to worry, because they were being called to the Garden, which was part of the living area. I ditched the card of snacks and ran towards the area, and, to my horror, I watched a security had to pull Shelby off of another girl,

who had what looked like a pillowcase or something wrapped around her neck. The other girl, of course, turned out okay, but she was turning purple, and was almost unconscious. Shelby was, of course, punished, meaning that she wasn't allowed to do activities with others or even in her room and was basically just locked in. I learned from the supers and the doctors that, when they asked why she did it, she said she just wanted to know what it was like to kill someone and to watch what happened to someone when she did.

She had managed to find a blind spot in the cameras and lured the girl over there and used her pillowcase to try to strangle her. her. This brought on changes to the bedding, among a lot of other things at that point. I learned a valuable lesson from her, though. You really can't see everything about a person on the outside, even children. I did hear from one of my friends that worked there that she did end up leaving the facility, but I ended up leaving first. It wasn't as easy as I expected. I'm in pediatrics now, and have been since, but I truly hope that she was able to go on to live a much better life. people, but is now dead and gone thanks to the owner, basically just abandoning it.

I actually worked there when they decided to give up on the shop, and this was a nightmare in and of itself, but the event that I wanted to submit doesn't have anything to do with that. The story that I wanted to send to you is actually one that took place about a year and a half after I started working there. The sandwich shop that I worked at was small, and there weren't a lot of employees. I think that there was just the four of us and the two managers. The shop had a bad habit of following behind other larger sandwich chains. When Subway started doing salads, they decided that we needed to do salads, too.

When other sandwich chains started doing toasted sandwiches, they bought a small conveyor oven for us to use two toast. sandwiches that the customers wanted it. They actually spent a lot of money redoing the menu and options and buying new hardware for the store every single time there was a new thing that the other places were doing. It was honestly the most annoying thing that I've ever dealt with in a job. Anyways, there was one night that I was working the line with another person,

and it was just the two of us until closing time when the general manager would be coming in, to count down the register. The two of us that were working there were both pretty young. I was a 17-year-old guy and my co-worker was a 19-year-old girl, so we weren't exactly the most threatening employees there. While we were working, making the food for the customers and cleaning up where we could, I noticed that there was a guy that was pacing around in the parking lot

and looking at people's cars. I mentioned this to my coworker, but she basically said that he hadn't really done anything illegal, so we should just ignore him and he would probably go away. I shrugged and just kept on sweeping, assuming that she was right, and that I should just do what she told me since she was my senior. About ten minutes or so later,

I looked up from sweeping and noticed that the man was now staring into the restaurant, with his hands cupped around his eyes and his face against the glass. I kind of just waved at him like, uh, hi, and went back to sweeping. Then I heard the doorbell going off and noticed that he had walked into the store. I hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to him until this point, and I noticed that he was pretty messy. I don't mean like he was just dirty. I mean he looked literally messy.

His hair was tangled and all over the, the place, his beard looked like it had something in it, his face was dark with dirt or something, he just looked messy. My assumption was that he may have been homeless, and I wasn't really sure what to expect. But I leaned the broom over and hopped back behind the counter, and then asked him how I could help him. He just kind of stared at me with the look like he was crazy. bulging eyes, nose-flared, mouth in a frown, just seriously crazy. After a few moments, I asked him if he was okay, and if I could help him with something,

and he responds with, what do you have? I start going over the menu, telling him the option for the meats, the bread, the cheese, basically just throwing all the information that I could at him about the menu. He just stares at me as I'm. listing all the options, and then he tells me to stop talking because I was being too loud. I stopped and just kind of looked around like, okay. After a few moments, he leans in and asks me if I'm alone. For some dumb reason, I responded with,

No, my manager is in the back. Would you like me to get her? And he just kind of laughed. And then he started walking towards the door. or at least I thought he was walking towards the door. He stepped toward the exit and kind of glanced in both directions and then turned back towards me. He pulled out this big-ass hunting knife from his pocket

and started back behind the counter. He then starts shouting at me, but I couldn't tell you what the hell he was saying. He wasn't screaming about wanting money. He wasn't telling me to do anything. He was just incoherently screaming as loud as he could, while waving the knife in my direction. I put my hands up and told him that he could have whatever it was that he wanted,

that I was not going to stop him. I stood back against the wall and just motioned for the station, and then looked back and saw my manager standing in the back watching this play out. I didn't expect her to do anything more, honestly. She was smaller than I was, even though she was two years older, and I wasn't expecting her to risk her life. To my surprise, this guy literally starts making a sandwich after screeching at me. He grabs the bread from the cabinet and rips it open,

then he starts piling as much into it as he could. He then shoves it on the metal plate and then shoves that into the toaster, and he walks around to the other side and just stares at it as it's going through. When I say he was staring, he was fixated on this sandwich as it was going through the oven. It took around two or three minutes to get through, and his face was up to the exit just watching it go. This whole time, the two of us are just standing there, staring at him, make his own food. I think we were both trying to figure out what the hell was going on in this situation. After a few minutes of him watching it toast, he literally reaches his hand into the oven and grabs his sandwich.

What was terrifying about that, he didn't even flinch. That thing was something like 200 degrees Fahrenheit, so there's no way he did not burn his hand. He literally grabbed his sandwich, pulled it from the oven, and started shoving it into his mouth right then and there. He was eating this scorching hot sandwich, and then he just turned and left. Obviously, we called the cops to report the event, and we had to give them the security footage, and then we called the manager and owner to come up so we could close the store. Honestly, it was weird as hell, and I have no idea why this guy went about things this way. If he had told me that he didn't have the money to buy anything,

I would have probably just made him a sandwich for free. but he decided that he wanted to go about it the crazy way. I don't know if the cops ever caught the guy or if he got away, but I never saw him again. While it was a scary situation, part of me does hope that he didn't burn his hands or mouth too bad with that sandwich, mostly because I know that that must have hurt. This was honestly the most messed up situation that we ever dealt with, though, not the only creepy one. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

Because I know that had he not just been hungry, this all could have gone much, much worse. I'll start off with mentioning that I've been able to seek ghosts since I was a child, and I've had ton of paranormal experiences in my life, including psychic abilities like dreams that come true. Now, here's my creepy hospital story. story. I got sick about three and a half years ago, and I kept having to go to the hospital.

I never could sleep because of my issues, and I was always zombie-like. So I went to the hospital and checked in, and I had to sit in the waiting room and wait to be seen. I was just sitting there for a while, feeling awful, and all of a sudden a big black shadow, maybe the sun, of a baseball flew right next to me by my side and in between the chairs i reacted as one would if a scary bug flew by and people started staring at me like i was crazy and i asked my mother if she saw that and she said no i looked all around for a large bug fly or even a bird and nothing it was shadowlike it was the color black or dark gray. I think I saw a spirit of someone who died,

but not a good spirit since the color was dark. The reason I could see them was because of the state that I was in. I feel like you can see and sense paranormal things when you're vulnerable. I used to work at an old restaurant, way back in the 90s, that was definitely in a really old building, though it was pretty well kept up. That said, I will 100% say that the building was incredibly haunted by a spirit of some sort. Closing was always the worst, because we would always clean and clear out the front of the store first,

and then we would be finishing up in the back. When the front was clean and good to go, we would shut off the lights and lock the doors, and all moved to the back to clean up the kitchen and the back room. There were an uncountable number of times that people would ask if we had finished out the front because the lights would kick back on. We would all be in the back, someone would go to the midsection of the restaurant, and the lights would be turned back on, and no one would know how. On top of that, we would frequently hear voices coming from the dining room.

I heard people talking all the time, but the creepiest time was when we were all in the back and wrapping up, and I heard someone in the front yell, Where the F is, everyone? At first I freaked out, thinking that we had left the front door unlocked, and maybe someone had made their way into the building, thinking we were still open, despite the lights being off. I walked out to the front to tell the gentleman that we were closed, and to apologize that we couldn't serve him,

but there was no one there. I walked out from behind the counter and looked into the, the dining room, I checked the restrooms, and then I went and checked the door. It was completely locked. I asked the manager to check the cameras and see if there was someone in the building because we had heard a person shouting, but there was no one on the camera at all until I walked out from the back. This was pretty common.

We would hear people talking, check the front, but there was never anything on the cameras, and there was never anyone in the building. One night I was the closing manager, and I had to spend a lot of my night in the back, keeping numbers looking good and helping prep for the next day as well. I was finishing up counting and filling out the nightly paperwork, and everyone was finishing up the front-end cleaning when I heard a really loud thud and the sound of water splashing.

I sighed thinking that someone had spilled something or whatever while cleaning up the front end, and when I walked out to the front, I noticed that the two people that were cleaning were standing there and staring at the mop bucket tipped on its side, and the mop was halfway across the dining room. I asked them what had happened,

and one of them mentioned that the mop in the bucket literally just flung themselves. I asked what they meant, and they explained that they had stopped mopping for a moment to do something behind the bar, and as soon as they did, the mop bucket was flung onto its side, and the mop was practically thrown across the room. I brought them both to the back, and we went to check the camera, and sure enough, the mop and mop fell on their own. It wasn't like they had just tipped over and fell, it was like someone had put their foot on it and kicked it as hard as possible to knock it over.

But there was no one there. It was seriously crazy, but I basically told him that we just have to move on and mop up the water. One of the other things that I recall happening was actually an apparition. There was one night where we had closed and were finishing the nightly books and all that. When I looked up at the camera, I saw what looked like a person standing by the doorway and staring out the window. She looked like she was dressed in clothes from the earth. early 1900s, like the 1920s or 30s, she just kind of stood there and stared out, and then slowly turned to look up at the camera and basically faded away.

It was the creepiest thing, and even though it was only a few seconds of footage, the entire time I watched her, I felt my veins running cold. Of course, I was the only one that saw it, and I only saw her the one time, but it was probably the freakiest thing to happen there. So those were three of the strangest events I remember about our restaurant. We had a few other small events that happened here and there, but really these were the ones that were worth mentioning. I don't work there anymore,

but I still go up to have dinner there and to talk to the owner, and they've mentioned that they've seen similar apparitions in the cameras randomly. Honestly, it really is crazy to me how a restaurant that is so busy all the time could get so creepy at night. Nothing ever happened while the restaurant was full or during the day. The ghosts always waited until after we closed to become active. Neither way, it was a creepy place to be after dark, and I'm actually kind of glad that I don't work there anymore. I have a short but kind of creepy story that happened to me a while back when I worked as a waitress at a bar and grill. It's probably not the scariest thing, but it was definitely creepy to me, and I'm glad that it ended how it did.

So, like I mentioned, I was a waitress for a restaurant that most people are aware of, and have probably been to. I don't know if I should say the name of it, so I won't say it by the name. I've worked there for several years at this point, and I even worked through COVID, so I've seen my share of weird stuff, but this specific situation was one that genuinely freaked me out. This happened around the time when restaurants started opening back up after the pandemic, so business was pretty slow, with the exception of to-go orders. I'd been assigned a few tables and was one of two people that were working as waitstaff that day. Most of the day I was just cleaning up the store and helping out the to-go section. I was in the middle of bagging in order when the greeter came over to me and mentioned that I had a seat that I needed to take care of.

I thanked her and walked over to the table only to be surprised by who it was. It was actually one of my high school math teachers. I happily said hi to him and asked him how he was, and he seemed to be just as happy and excited to see me. I thought it was kind of neat seeing a teacher after having been out of high school for like seven years, so I was getting pretty friendly with my conversation with him, telling him how I've been doing,

how I've managed for the past few years, and all that. He then asked me if I was still with James, who was my boyfriend through the entirety of high school. I told him that I wasn't, that he had moved away from the state for school, and that we just decided to go our separate directions. He frowned and said, Oh, that's sad,

but it's good to know you're doing okay. Are you single or are you seeing anyone? Which, to me, was a bit odd, but at the same time, he had just asked about my ex, so it also made sense as to why he would ask. I told him that I was single at the moment and just enjoying my time to myself. He laughed and followed that up with,

You'll find someone. You know, I always thought you were pretty attractive while you were in my class. I'm surprised that you didn't have the guys all over you, to be honest. Which was not something I expected to hear from him, especially considering the fact that, well, I was in his class, I was a minor. I just kind of smiled and said thanks, thinking maybe I misinterpreted what he meant, and then shifted the attention to asking what I could get for him.

He asked for a glass of water and then mentioned that he was going to need a bit to decide what he wanted. I said, okay, and then went off to get him as water. I put it on the table and then told him, him that I would be right back in a few moments to get his order or to answer any questions. As I walked away from the table, I realized that I needed to use the restroom really quick. I went in and got in the stall to do my business. While I was there, I heard someone else walk into the restroom and walk past my stall and into the stall on the end.

I then finished what I was doing, and I went to wash my hands, and as soon as I exited the stall, I heard the door open. It was my general manager. She stood in the doorway and told me that she needed to see me in her office for a moment. I told her that I would be right there as soon as I washed my hands, and she told me that I could just wash my hands in the back, and that it was urgent that I came with her right then. Obviously, I was a bit taken aback, honestly thinking I was about to get fired, so I told her okay and just immediately went right with her. As soon as we got back to the kitchen area, the manager asked me if I hadn't noticed what was going on. I told her that I didn't know what she was talking about, and then I asked if I did something wrong.

She then tells me that a few moments after I walked into the restroom, she watched the customer that I had been chatting with, walk back and go straight into the women's restroom. She said that she was a bit concerned, so she wanted to check on me, and then when she opened the door, she saw his feet under the back stall door, like he was just standing there at the door of the stall and waiting, which is why she was telling me to just come with her. Obviously, I was a bit freaked out.

what the hell was he doing following me into the restroom? And worse, what were his intentions? After talking through it, she said that she would go ask him to leave so that I didn't have to, and we both went to where the back met the front, and sure enough, he was already gone. She went to check the restroom, and he wasn't there either. We both assumed that he realized he was caught and then left out the side door in a panic. This whole situation really scared me. His statement was a bit creepy, but I would have never expected him to follow me into the restroom,

nor would I have ever expected him to be such a creep. I'm beyond thankful that my manager was paying attention and saw him follow me, because had she not, I can only imagine what he could or would have done to me. The hospital that I worked for back in the early 2000s was old as hell, and I guarantee that there are other things walking around those halls that we cannot see. It was built in the early 1900s, but most of the building actually went through a major overhaul to update it, except for one part of it which housed the chapel, gift shop, and the bell.

in order to keep its original roots, I suppose. But as for the creepy parts of this place, we seemed to have a chain of deaths that followed in a specific room, almost like a curse. I still hate saying it because I'm always like, well, gee, if we did our job, then they wouldn't have died, right? But it's always been those crazy phenomena that led up to them. The first one that I remember was a lady that came in that seemed to have the start of dementia.

She came in with burn injuries due to pretty much trying to set her clothes on fire to warm up as she was cold. Thankfully, someone was home to put her out, but unfortunately just wasn't nearby to see or know what exactly she was doing. She was going through the normal treatment and was responding well to it. I even had a conversation with her that was fairly normal. But then, pretty much out of nowhere, she began seizing and died. I heard that her cause of death was unrelated to the burns or the treatments and medication she took for it, which I suppose did make those of us that cared for her feel a little better, but it was still one of those unexpected deaths that punches you in the gut and makes you feel bad.

But life goes on in a hospital, and new patients come in, including a man that was being seen for a stroke. He was in a different ward and was then moved upstairs to our ward and into the room 224, as the physical therapy rooms were up there too. Again, he had gone through some PT, come back, and was in good spirits, because he was starting to get feeling back in his arm and leg. That ended when the next day he coded, and nothing we did brought him back, and he passed. His death was related to heart failure, however, but still, it was upsetting. This continued to happen over a few months, I believe it was.

Patients would go to that room, would be fine, and then on day two or three they would die. What's worse is that we thought we were smarter. We had one patient that, after their first night, we moved him to a different room to try to prevent his demise. He still ended up passing. And from then on, room 224 was fine, and then 226 was having recurring casualties. We all joked about it being a curse, but after the fifth or sixth, I believe, I think it became a little more serious for us nurses. We tried to avoid the room at all costs. We double-roomed or triaged out once, when we could, just to not use it.

But, unfortunately, there came a time that we couldn't avoid it. It was one of those strange occurrences where it was the weekend. There was some kind of show going on nearby. People were getting drunk and being stupid. Just one of those kinds of days. So we started filling up quicker than normal. One of the heads told one of the other nurses to move someone to room 226. She hesitated, and she tried to come up with every excuse that she could to not put someone up in there.

However, the head didn't give a damn, not believing in anything supernatural, and told her that if she didn't do it, then she would. She started making her way to move the patient there and gather her things. Then, she started freaking out, causing the hair on my neck to stand. I was at the nurse's station when, suddenly, I heard the lady yelling, so I came over, already aware of what was going on prior to seeing what happened. The middle-aged woman, who was soft-spoken and optimistic in her recovery, was now pale in pleading us to not take her to that room. As I remember it, she was saying things like, please, I don't want to go in there, please.

I'll die in there, please. The other nurse tried to calm her down and told her that she would be okay and that she wouldn't die, although I could hear the shaking in her voice. The patient continued screaming. No, please, they'll kill me. They'll all kill me, please. I don't want to die. She was unconsolable.

So we got the head nurse and explained what was happening. So instead she put her. back in her room and put the new patient in the other room. When we put her back in her room, her nurse tried consoling her again and asked her about it. She mentioned how she felt an overwhelming sense of dread in that room, and that she didn't want to be around it. That alone spooked me. Sure enough, however, the younger-looking guy that went in for an ear infection died the

next day from, again, something unrelated. The other nurse there was freaking out, and rightfully so. We never want to lose a patient, but then having this feeling that it could have been avoided really takes a toll on you. After some arguing and one nurse threatening to walk out, we finally got them to agree to not use the room anymore. To our relief and, unfortunately, our horror, the unexpected. Deaths seemingly stopped.

We've talked about it on many occasions and even told a few new hires why we avoid the room. We eventually begin using it as a storage room. That way, there was no way that it would get used by a patient ever again. I don't know what happened at that hospital, but after witnessing that, I honestly don't even want to know. I was a nurse for several years at a small local hospital, in my state.

I had some pretty weird interactions with patients, but there was one that I've never forgotten about. I was actually still a fairly new nurse at the time, so I more so followed the head nurse around and helped the other nurses, or was even their little errand dog for a while. I get it, I suppose. Being new and having to earn the respect or create your own reputation, So when I noticed certain things when visiting a patient,

I would always check with the other nurses or check the patient's file if they were aware of something. In this case, we had a patient that came in for routine surgery. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his 70s, I believe. The surgery went fine. There were no complications, and even his recovery went fine. We even had things prepared and were warned that, due to other conditions that he had,

he may need oxygen longer than we normally have to do after surgery, but never did. On one of the days after his surgery, when he was awake and cognizant, I was assigned to help him with cleaning up and checking vitals, etc. I remember having an everyday conversation with him, something like the weather, and he mentioned his wife and dog,

and even his plans for the upcoming summer vacation. Then, right before I was leaving, I asked him if there was anything else I could do for him, and he just looked at me smiling and said, When I die, be sure to check my legs. That's all. I looked at him puzzled because, as far as I was aware of his reason for being there and the surgery that he had, it wasn't even really a life or death situation. I think he had cysts being removed on his back or something similar.

So I asked him, What do you mean, Mr. Smith? Your surgery went perfectly. He just smiled again and said, I know, and laid on his side watching TV. I just left the room and thought this should be a funny conversation to have with the others. I went and told them about it too, and they agreed that there were no complications,

and no reason that he would die, so they chalked it up to him just being old, possibly memory issues, or maybe he was confused from the surgery, and we all kind of just left it with that. Then the day of discharge came, and his wife was there, helping him get his stuff all packed and together. The guy mentioned that he was feeling a bit ill, like his stomach was upset, so they gave him something like Pepto to help, saying that it was. was probably a mix of stress and leaving and eating solid foods, and they helped push the wheelchair out the door. They didn't even make it out of the building before he dropped his cup of water

and seemed to lose consciousness. They brought him back in and started procedures to help bring him back. His heart rate had slowed dramatically, so they had to go through the normal life-saving procedures to get him back to us. Thankfully, his consciousness did return, but we kept him overnight again to monitor him and do some more tests. He didn't have any prior health conditions that could have caused this, so it kind of bewildered us. I was off the day that he was being discharged, so I learned what had happened when I returned the next day from both the nurses and himself.

He was a talker, so he told me what had happened, albeit in his light and joking manner. However, he didn't seem to get better. He continued to lose consciousness or felt ill, so we kept him to look at doing more tests, part of it being his wife's request. Some of the nurses were talking about it at the station, and for some reason I remembered what he had told me before he was supposed to be discharged. I thought maybe it was worth bringing up to the others to see if it may be important. As expected, they thought,

this was something said by someone still feeling the effects of anesthesia, and they thought nothing of it, so I didn't press the matter. Being a newbie, I figured it was probably out of place for me to question another nurses or doctor's decisions, so I just kept it to myself. Except it wasn't that easy, because the same patient complained about having troubles breathing and pain in his chest. I knew that these were both signs of blood clots, so I tried to quickly look him over and ask him questions about how he was feeling when he stopped responding and started coding. He had no pulse whatsoever. I immediately called out for assistance, and as the others came in, they began helping with CPR and going through our normal procedures in these situations. And when we finally got the pulse back, I was able to point out to them what I was.

was worried about. His leg had turned blue and purple. Again, another sign of blood clots. We immediately set him up for surgery and got him all fixed up. One of the nurses got mad at me, basically accusing me of holding back information that could have killed a patient, when I explained to them that I had brought this up days prior. Thankfully, others agreed, though that was definitely something anyone should have seen, and they thought it was impossible that they wouldn't have noticed it prior, since he had sat on the edge of the bed with his legs out. But it would be incredible for it to turn purple like that in just one day. After the surgery, tests, and exercises to prevent the same thing from happening, he was finally feeling and looking

better, no more passing out, so he was about to leave again. I'd been working. I'd been working on the other side of the floor, so I didn't get to see him much, but I wanted to wish him well before he left. When I got to talking with him, I brought up the clot and asked him how he knew about it, or if he'd had a history of them, and he had no idea what I was talking about. He didn't even remember making the comments to me about it. In fact, someone else told him that I pointed it out, and he wanted to thank me as I saved his life. I didn't know what to say, other than just take the compliments and gratitude and move on. I know this may not necessarily be too creepy, but that was one of the most bizarre cases that I've had while at this hospital.

I've definitely learned to trust my gut in those situations, no matter how much the other nurses may mock me or look at me funny, because it could just save a life. I have a creepy story that took place on my 20th birthday back in 2017. Back then, I was a bit down on my luck, so on my birthday, my cousin, Sasha, called me and told me that she was going to take me out to eat a nice lunch for my birthday, and I was not going to turn that down. Sasha was my best friend growing up, so I loved spending time with her. And since she and I had grown apart, I was more than happy to go with her. She had offered to take me to a really nice Italian place, but I'm also the kind of person who doesn't want people to spend too much money on me, so I suggested a smaller Mexican food place that I had been to once or twice. We got there, and they weren't super busy.

In fact, it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, so... The restaurant was pretty much empty, with only a few tables being occupied. We got seated, and we sat there for a while before someone came over and asked us if we had been served yet. The person looked like a manager based on how they were dressed, and we mentioned to him that no one had come over to take our order or anything like that, and said that he would take our drink orders right then. He also said that someone else would be right with him, us to take care of us right away.

We told him what we wanted to drink, and he walked away toward the back of the restaurant. After about three or so more minutes, a second man walked out from the back with two glasses of tea and slammed them down on the table in front of us. He literally slammed them down onto the table, to the point that mine spilled over and made a small mess on the table. I jumped and made a bit of a shocked sound, like, oh, and he just stared at me for a moment, and then walked away back to the back of the restaurant. I sat there for a few moments, kind of like, what the hell is his problem?

But I shrugged it off and cleaned up the mess with my napkin. We just sat there drinking our tea for a few more minutes, talking about nothing in particular. We got through our drinks, and then... just kind of sat there confused for around 20 more minutes. At this point, I actually apologized to Sasha for recommending this place, as the service was obviously terrible today. She asked me if I had ever had any of these issues here, and I told her no, that both times I had been here, it was a great place.

By the time we hit a half hour since we had gotten our tea, I decided to wave down another person that worked there, and I asked them for the manager. They said they would get him and walked to the back. While we were there waiting for him, Sasha said that, if I wanted, we could still go to the Italian place, and I said that that sounded like a good idea. When the manager got to our table, he asked if we were still having issues, and I mentioned that by that point, we had been sitting there for over four. 40 minutes, and I would appreciate it if we could just get the check for the drinks and go. The manager apologized to us several times. He said there would be no charge for the teas, and then asked if he could make it up to us with a gift card or something,

because this was obviously not the type of service he wanted us to have. I said that was fine, and he went through with getting me the gift card, and then told us to have a nice day. He then immediately walked back to the back, and his face looked angry as hell, to be honest. Like, he walked to the back with a purpose. We went to leave, and within a few moments of us getting out the front door, I heard the door to the restaurant slam open loudly, and somebody shouting. I turned to look at what was going on, and I saw the man that had dropped our drinks on the table, walking toward us aggressively and flinging his arms as he screamed at us.

To put it, PG lightly, he was shouting, You stupid bees got me fired. What the F is wrong with you, you stupid stuck up? Yeah. I was pretty pissed off already about this whole thing, so I just turned around and said that it was his fault that he decided to not do his job. As soon as I said this, the man pulled a kitchen knife from me, out of his apron and started sprinting at us.

I told Sasha to run, and we made a mad dash to the car and jumped in, and shut and locked the doors immediately. After a few seconds, he got to the car and was slamming his hand on my window, screaming that he was going to kill us for ruining his life. I'm sitting there watching this guy slam his fist against the glass and screaming while holding this large knife in his other hand. After banging on the window and trying to pull the door open, he started looking down and reaching towards the tire with the knife,

and I told Sasha to gun it. His safety be damned. She did. She threw it in reverse and slammed on the pedal, knocking the guy to the ground, and then drove out of the parking lot as quickly as she could. After getting a few blocks away, she pulled over and asked me what we should do.

If we should call the cops, go back, talk to the manager, go make sure that she didn't kill the guy with her car or something. I told her to call the cops and tell them what happened, and I said that I would call the restaurant to see if they needed us to come make a statement. She called 911, and I called the restaurant and talked with the manager. He said that he had already called the cops and that they were actually getting there now. He asked if we were okay, and I told him that,

other than being scared out of our minds, we were fine. Sasha then looked over at me and told me that the police wanted us to come back so we could give them a statement. So we turned around and headed back to the restaurant. When we pulled up, the guy was already in handcuffs and the manager met us alongside the police. We talked to the cops about what happened, and the manager corroborated the whole thing, telling the officers that he had fired the waiter because of the service and that he then ran out of the kitchen with a knife and said he was going to make us regret it. From what I can tell, it seems like he was just in a bad mood and snapped.

Though I don't know if that really justifies the situation. I've had bad days and I didn't want to deal with people, but I've never grabbed a knife and decided to chase them saying I was going to kill them. Thankfully, nothing more happened, and he was hauled off by the cops. I never went back to that restaurant, and I think I actually still have that gift card in my wallet, though I don't think it'll ever get spent. This happened when I worked at a local fish and seafood restaurant. I was working the evening shift, and we had a couple come in,

so I greeted them and escorted them to a nearby booth. I asked them for drinks. He got some kind of soda and she got water. I came back with their drinks and took their order. He ordered a full course meal. He got an appetizer, an entree, and even got a side salad and rolls. And when I asked her, she just looked up at me like a deer in the headlights and he said, She doesn't want anything.

And he quickly moved the conversation back to him. asking about a cake and then ordering said dessert. I walked away kind of confused, but put the order in. I've seen similar instances where one person didn't order anything, or ordered very little, or took most of it home, but I've never seen where someone answers for another person saying they didn't want anything. But I thought, I don't get paid enough to investigate it, and it's probably not that deep.

anyways, so I moved on. But in those situations that I mentioned, the parties are still talking to each other, or maybe even sneaking stuff off their plate, but these two people were doing nothing of the sort. He was nearly inhaling his food and looking pretty gross about it, chewing with his mouth open, snorting, coughing, making a mess, all of it. And the woman just sat there, sitting straight, hands being held. in her lap with her ankles crossed, never taking her eyes off of him, with no conversation to be

had. When he finished, he paid leaving a decent cash tip and left. I figured that would be the last of the weird situation. But then, they started coming in weekly. He would order stuff, and she would never get anything. But she always seemed to look worse and worse. The first time she was in a nice fitted, black dress. It had a shimmer to it, like it was silky, but it also had silver lace along the

edges of the sleeves, the bottom hem, and the collar. She was on the thinner side, but it was form fitting. I think you know what I mean. But every time they came in, he would wear something different. She was always in the same dress. It looked like the dress was falling apart as she wore it. It seemed to get looser on her like she was losing weight, or like she had it in multiple different sizes. The lace hem on the bottom was unraveling, and the one around her chest was discolored, like something dark was spilled on it.

After a while, it just seemed unsettling. Was she not eating at all? Was she being starved? And if so, why? I finally got my chance to ask, about it when in the middle of his meal he started choking and when he was finally done coughing in her face he threw his napkin down and walked to the restroom I went over to the table and I asked her if she needed anything she again just stared at me but

squinted like she was confused then all she said was pen I gave her my pen and she immediately stuck it in her hair that appeared to be pinned up no longer to be seen and then looked back down at his plate. He started walking back to the table as I was walking away when I heard aloud, Hey! I turned around to see him standing next to her, and he motioned for me to come over. When I approached, he said, What were you doing? I told him that I had heard him coughing, which was an understatement,

and I wanted to make sure he was okay and ask if they needed anything. He asked me if she had talked. to me and I said no. Then he sat back down smiling and said, Good, and continued eating. After he finished eating, he paid and left again. One of the last times that I saw them was a few weeks after that experience.

She was not looking good. The lace on the bottom of her dress was completely gone, and her eyes were dark and sunken in. No amount of makeup that she was wearing, could cover that. Again, he went to the restroom. I saw over the wall that she was looking down at the table and then looked back up. He came out and they left. I went to clean the table and this time there was a napkin folded up in the seat next to her. It had something in a different language written on it. I immediately took it home, not telling anyone what it was, and I started looking

it up. It turned out it was Dutch, and it said something like, this is not the American dream I expected, I will make my own, I will overcome. I didn't really know what to do with this information, so I kept it to

myself and decided that I would try asking about it if I got the chance. They came in once more, but this time, the guy seemed irritated. He was short. and curt with me, even when placing his order. He was very rushed throughout the whole thing, and if he needed anything else,

he would use that deep voice and yell for me by name. At one point, I noticed the girl looked like she was slightly swaying, like a sickly sway. So my manager actually came over because of his yelling, warning him that if he didn't stop, he would be kicked out. Then he noticed the girl and leaned down, putting his hand. hand on her shoulder, and he asked if she was okay. The guy immediately got defensive, standing up and yelling, she's fine. Take your hands off of her.

My manager stood up and said, how about we let her answer? And tried to get her to talk, but she would just stare. I wasn't over there, so this was all what he told me, but he said that she looked scared. She never said anything, but the guy grabbed her by the arm, and they, they were. both left in a rush without paying. This was enough for my manager to call the cops since he ate most of his food anyways, and then skipped on the bill. So, he explains to them what had happened, and described the weird situation with the

girl. I, admittedly, did leave out the note that I got. I didn't know if it would be relevant, or if maybe she was just venting. I had no idea. and I later regretted that decision. It had been a few weeks since that had taken place, and I was watching the news in the little break room at work. There was a man's body found in his home after police did a welfare check

because he had missed work with no calls. They said that he was found with a pen in his throat, so they were investigating it as a homicide. I thought it was weird, but didn't really think much. of it, until I saw another article come up as I was scrolling through Facebook on my phone about the same guy that had been killed. This time, it had a picture of the guy, and, obviously, to my surprise, it was the same one that had come in with that girl.

So, then I went and read into the story, and sure enough, it was him. He'd been stabbed with a pen. They said they had a person of interest, but they had to be. hadn't found her yet. All I could think was, what the hell happened between them? Why did she write what she did in Dutch? Why did she never speak? And why was she seemingly starved?

And then, was that my pen that she used? I had a quick fear that my prints could even be on it, if so. But then thought, that was weeks prior. Surely it wouldn't be possible, right? I guess that was an accurate assumption, too. because I was never contacted, but I did continue following the story. As far as I could tell, they never found or caught the suspect. It's still something that I think about regularly,

but I wouldn't even know where to start to try to find this mysterious woman. 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 Story. 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 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 you. 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.