As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 059 - Creepy Unexplained Stories & Reddit Horror Stories - 9 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: December 29, 2022

Hello and Welcome to the 59th episode of The ATRD Podcast! Today we have some intriguing and terrifying stories submitted by everyday people. In Today's Episode we will have stories containing some truly unexplained situations, as well as some terrifying stories 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 Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in today's Video...  9Tailssss, Marc Gillihan, Electrical-Platform2, 0Calico0, Hi_I’m_Keith, M.P., UhOhOuijaTime, and everyone that requested anonymity. ➤ All stories within are used w/ Either direct permission from the author- or under some level of CC license (where noted) True Stories are not verified, and should all be considered 'supposedly true'.  And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/support Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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And thank you. I moved into this tiny little rental about six years ago. It was a two-bedroom duplex, and it was quite the steel, in my opinion. The rent was cheap, the place was in good condition, and even the property managers seemed pretty nice. I got all unpacked and was feeling pretty good with my choice of my new home. it wasn't until about six months in or so that I started experiencing things. It started as things just disappearing, like my keys, my jewelry, my glasses, just little things like that.

But then, they would end up in other places that I would never have left them. I had a dish in the bathroom that I put my rings in, or I would put them on the windowsill in the kitchen if I took them off and there. otherwise they were on me or in my jewelry box. My keys hung on the rack next to my door, or they were in my purse, and I always had my glasses on unless I showered or went to bed. Then they would be in their case in my bedroom. There were a few times that I found my rings sitting evenly spread out on the kitchen table. If I were to have left them on that table,

why would I have left them spread out like that? I once found my keys in the bathroom and under my couch. And I even found my glasses neatly folded and balancing on a pillow on the couch. That was after I had went to bed. Again, I wouldn't take them off in the living room and then walk to my bedroom. Now, I am open-minded to the paranormal, and so I thought, maybe someone was upset that I was here, or maybe they were just lonely and happy to have company

since the house had been vacant for a few years. It was a house that had been abandoned, and was redone and turned into a duplex. I wasn't told about any details that happened there, but, to be honest, I was still young. I don't know if that's a law across the U.S., that deaths have to be disclosed to new tenants, or if that's only if you buy the place versus renting like I was doing.

So, I just tried to talk to them if anything was there. I told them I wanted to share the home with them, and I thanked them for coexisting, you know, trying to be as generous and friendly to them as I could be. I mean, they'd been mostly harmless so far. Yet, things got worse. The events that I witnessed started becoming more emotion-fueled. My windows opened upward and they never had trouble staying open before, but then they would slam shut.

Same with the doors. They never swung open or closed on their own, but now they would suddenly move. It seemed to particularly like my bedroom door. It wanted it to remain open because every time I would close it, it would come open. I'd had a few cups and plates fly off the counter as well. These were the things that I tried to ignore and not feed into, or show any fear. But I still tried to be reasonable, as reasonable as you can be with a spirit, right? But the one thing I couldn't shake were the dreams.

I never seemed to remember them when I woke up, but I do remember waking with my heart racing, breathing heavily. and feeling scared, but I never knew why. I would go check to make sure all the doors and windows were locked and tried to go back to bed. And no matter what I wore to bed, I was always freezing when I woke up. It was such a strange feeling. So I know that this was probably stupid to be doing alone, but I didn't really have anyone around to do this with. My boyfriend was at work, friends were busy with life,

and I didn't want to bother them with something like this anyways. But I held a seance by myself, hoping to better understand the spirits that I was feeling, or at least try to calm them. Unfortunately, all I got was this feeling like someone was watching. me and was disappointed. Not really angry, just upset, I guess. So, I finished up, I watched a movie and then went to bed.

That's when things got really strange for me. It felt like a dream at first that I was watching play out in front of me, but then I realized where I was in this dream. I was in my very own bedroom. I was standing against the wall, facing the foot of my bed. It was dark except for the glow from the moon and the streetlights coming into my window. But the problem with this was that there was somebody in my bed. That person was also me.

I was wearing the same thing I had went to bed in, which was a tank top, and my fuzzy Rugrats pajama pants. My hair was in one single box. braid, just as I had done right before I went to bed. And as I stood there, looking down at myself sleeping, I then saw a large, dark, looming figure standing next to my bed, close enough to touch me. We both stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching myself sleep, watching my chest rise and fall, making sure I wasn't struggling to breathe or something. Then I turned, I turned my attention to the thing standing over me.

I was trying to make something out of it, a person that I recognized or even didn't, hoping to make sense out of what exactly I was seeing. But then, I could see the shape of the head, slowly turning to look towards me, and in that moment, I felt the most overwhelming sense of dread that I had ever felt in my life. At that moment, I just wanted to cry and scream, but I couldn't move a muscle. I watched on, terrified for myself, and what exactly was about to happen to me. Right then, I saw what I assumed to be the figure's arms wrap around me, then its legs, until it seemed to engulf me in darkness.

Something finally broke free and I was able to overcome the paralysis, as I ran to my side, barely able to see myself at this point. Without thinking, I reached down and grabbed my own shoulder. At that moment, I remember waking up. After feeling something touched my shoulder, I felt myself touched my own shoulder. I reached up and turned on my head, rest light, and looked around the room. No one else was there.

It was just me. And again, I was freezing. I was terrified at this point and just started crying. I think I probably turned on every single light in that place. And I sat curled up on my couch in the living room with the TV on some kind of cartoon. My boyfriend worked overnights at that point, so I called him freaking out, and I explained what had just happened. He wasn't one to dismiss my thoughts and beliefs, but I think he was just trying to do whatever he could to calm me down. And he said something about it probably being some kind of sleep paralysis or lucid dream, since it seemed so real.

But I'm not convinced that it was a dream. I remember standing on the cold, hardwood floor. I remember feeling the ridges and the wall against my back. I remember listening to my shallow, shaky breaths, and I remember the feeling of my own hand on my own shoulder, and the sense that someone was shaking me awake. My boyfriend was going on his lunch break soon, and I wasn't going to be sleeping at all,

so I decided to bring him something to eat to get my mind off of it. When I got there, we talked about it a little more, and I guess I must have looked pretty convincing because I remember the concerned look on his face and him offering to stay over with me. He lived with friends, so it was a lot less awkward to stay at my place instead of his. I stayed there for a few hours

until I went out to my car and fell asleep. He ended up getting out an hour early and he followed me back to my place. We slept on my couch that night however, as I didn't even want to go into my bedroom. I decided to sage the whole place the next day. I had trouble sleeping there alone from that moment on, as I always felt a strong presence,

like someone was there with me. I was typically fine during the day, but I struggled at night. My boyfriend was planning on moving in with me after he'd finished working overnight, but we expedited that process because I just could not do it anymore. I felt pathetic not wanting to be alone in my own home. I didn't renew my lease after that year.

The rent was great and the place was gorgeous and in a fantastic area, but it was not good for my health. I still have no explanation for that night because I've never heard of an experience where you can see and feel yourself. If anyone else has experienced anything similar, I would love to hear it, because I've never found an answer. But at least, I never experienced that again. This seriously happened to me last year. I was home alone.

My two older brothers are always in our local church, which is very near to us. It's like one street away. We also had no electricity, and it was daytime. We couldn't pay our bill on time. So I was home alone, and I'll have to admit that I'm not in the church with my brothers because I'm too lazy when it comes to religions, and things that need me to go out and talk to people. I would always choose to be home alone back then.

So, yeah, I was home alone, no electricity, just... using my phone drawing stuff on my sketchbook, music, etc. My brother came home, and he went straight to the bedroom. No word or anything at all. But it wasn't very fast. He walked very normal with a normal face. So after a couple of hours, it was almost getting to nighttime. We do have candles, but I couldn't find any,

so I was asking my brother, who's still not coming out of his bedroom. He came out quickly and went outside the house after he told me to follow him and fix the electricity. I was like, what's your plan? And he asked me to get a screwdriver and pliers. He taught me how to get back electricity when it was cut off. He told me to cut the hanging thing that was a lock for the electricity meter. It's a circle-shaped thing that's attached to a wall in every house that has electricity. He told me to remove the seal after the lock and pulled out the whole cover.

This revealed a plastic chip that was in between this metal that's supposed to be in contact with the cover I just removed. So I removed that chip and put the cover back on and the lights came on. I was like, oh wow, that's it? That was easy. My brother went straight back to his bedroom again. Then I received a call on my phone. Hey, we're going to spend the night here. You should come here. We've got electricity and food.

My brother said. The one who's speaking. Of course, I know his voice. I know my brother's voice. This voice is the one who just helped me fix our electricity. I asked him where he was, and he told me he was in the church. I told him, stop it. You're obviously joking.

You're so lame. But I wanted to go to his bed. bedroom just to throw a pillow at him, but then I realized that I'm not hearing any voice from his bedroom while I'm talking to him. He was talking normal. He wasn't being quiet. I should have heard him inside the room, but there was no voice at all. I couldn't run. My legs turned so weak. I didn't even want to make any sounds at all. I slowly as a snail grabbed my pants and slowly walked outside while looking at every single corner. I was tearing up so bad.

My lip was shaking while I was thinking, if this is a prank, I swear, but it wasn't. It was not a prank. I arrived at the church trembling. I even cried worse when I saw both of my brothers. They had never seen me cry like that before. I'm actually crying while I type this out.

It has got to be the most traumatic memory of my life. I've been with someone, I'm sure, that is not human. That thing was not my brother. I talked to him. I followed his orders to fix her electricity. I followed a non-human's command. My brothers thought maybe I was just hungry or I just needed some sleep or rest, but no, I know myself.

I was fine. They believed me that someone assisted or helped. me at home because they saw the lights were back. I was also crying so hard that I couldn't even construct a sentence at that time. I have something that happened to me way back when I was around 12. This would have been back in the 80s, and I can safely say that I wasn't under the influence of anything. I never hallucinated, and I'm 100% certain that this was not a dream or me sleepwalking

or anything like that. I also don't have any mental illnesses other than depression, so that doesn't explain what happened either. This all happened to me, and while it may sound crazy or weird to others, it is my truth, and I know what I experienced. I'm not trying to over-defend myself. I'm just used to being told that it's not real, or that I was just dreaming. when I know for certain that I wasn't. I have to give some details that may seem irrelevance to the story in order to fully explain my mindset and what I was going through. So hopefully that doesn't turn anyone off from the story.

When I was a baby, my mother put me up for adoption. And while I absolutely applaud the adoption and foster system nowadays, I will say that back then there were definitely places and people that abused the system. Because of this, some kids slipped through the cracks. And I was one of those kids. I was adopted, and when I was no longer the cute little baby, my adopted mother gave me up again.

I was then with an older couple that took pretty good care of me, but she had ended up passing away unexpectedly, and he had a major cancer diagnosis that left him bedridden, which led to me ending back up in the system. So, by the time I was 11, I was already in my fourth family. And when you're a preteen girl just trying to understand the world, nothing makes you feel like you're unwanted like being tossed around like that. I felt like I didn't belong and like nobody loved me.

And I was counting down the days until they gave me back up for adoption, and I would have to move to a new home. I say home, but none of them were ever actually home for me. To top it off, that family wasn't the best. I was one of four adopted kids, and I was a middle child. I was very much treated like a middle child, ignored and left to fend for myself. I know that this is sounding like a pity story, and maybe it is,

but at the age that I was, As mentioned, I was feeling like I was unwanted. Because I was feeling that way, I decided that I would run away and try to make my way in the world on my own. I decided that I would be better off homeless at the age of 12, which, thinking back, is terrifying. So I packed up my backpack full of clothes and food that I had taken from the cabinets, and one night, I decided that I was just going to leave. If I made it somewhere new, then great, and if I didn't make it, then so be it. I grabbed my pack, and I snuck out of my bedroom window into the backyard,

and I made my way down the road and eventually into the woods. Now, I will say that the entire time I was running away, I was being hit with a lot of emotion. At first I was excited about what I got. could do, but I was overrun with those sad thoughts that this was going to be my life from here on out, that I was just going to live in the woods with no family, eating snack cakes and Oreos from my backpack. Again, I was 12, so I didn't really understand what being homeless would entail, but it was still depressing. The whole time, though, I was kind of feeling like I was

hearing voices trying to talk to me. Voices that I could not recognize. They were faint, and there were a lot of them, and it was actually starting to make me feel scared. I was standing in the middle of the woods, in a suburb several blocks away from home, and I was starting to hear voices. This is when the real event actually happened. I was standing there, starting to hyperventilate and panic, and I was struggling. and I was struck by what I can only explain as the brightest light I have ever seen.

This was in the woods. There were no lights anywhere near me, the only exception being the flashlight in my hand. The light was hovering over me and glowing the brightest white that I have ever seen, to the point that it was almost blinding me. At first I was obviously scared of it, but after a couple of seconds, something about it made me feel less afraid, and more like I should embrace the light.

I wanted to reach out to it. I wanted to lift my arms and hug it, and I even started doing so. That was when I heard one of the voices telling me to stop. I could tell that this voice was coming from whatever this light was, and that it was talking directly to me. I stood there just staring at it. at it, and it finally did speak to me again.

It told me that I'd had a choice. It said that I could choose to go with it, and that I would never feel pain again, or that I could go home with the promise that things would get better. This may sound really strange to some, and it was strange to me at the time, but I knew that this thing was telling the truth, that what it was offering to me were my two options, and whichever I chose would be what happened. I remember just staring at it, thinking about whether or not I wanted it all to end,

or if I wanted things to get better and to try to keep going. What scares me is that deep down, I knew that if I went with it, that I would die, that it would take me into the afterlife. And I was a 12-year-old girl thinking about whether or not that was what I wanted. After a while, I remember telling it that I wanted to go home, and it told me that it would take me there.

At that moment, I blinked, and as soon as I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed, and the sun was starting to come up. I remember just lying there and staring at my ceiling for what felt like hours, thinking about what had happened. I could remember every detail of the, the light, how warm it was, how the brightness was blinding, and I could remember the sound of the voice that spoke to me. All of it was real. It was not a dream, and I have no explanation for what

the hell it was that I experienced. Part of me thinks that it may have been a guardian angel of some sort, though I don't think that guardian angels typically offer to end your life if you want to. But that was the only thing that I can think of. other than some sort of ethereal being that was just there at the right time and knew what I was going through. What's interesting to me is that things did get better. I no longer felt like I was unwanted. My parents seemed to care a bit more about me,

and they never did put me back up for adoption or anything like that. I would go as far as saying that after that night, my parents loved me, and they treated me as such. I don't know if it was just a trick of my mind and I was just realizing all of this, or if this thing had some influence on my reality. But things did get better for me. Whatever it was, it gave me that option for a second chance at life.

And I'm actually glad that I chose to go home. This actually occurred to my mother, but it's something that I've always held on to since she told me. I know it probably wasn't easy for her to recall and talk about it, but I am thankful that she did. So forgive me if I'm missing a few pieces here or there, or if it's a bit out of order as I'm trying to recall everything she told me. And when I was about five,

my parents tried for a second kid to have a boy and a girl. My mom had a medical issue that made getting pregnant difficult for them, but it didn't knock them down. After several failed attempts, they learned that she was pregnant, and went to the normal appointments to make sure the baby and mom were safe and healthy. Everything was going fine, too. No complications with the pregnancy? Until about the time that they learned the gender, it was going to be another boy, but, They were still very thankful to have a second on the way, so no big deal. But my mom had started having some pretty weird dreams, or more so nightmares. She never really talked about them with my dad or anyone,

other than just saying that she'd had a weird dream, because she never really thought about it. At least she didn't until it became a recurring dream. In the dream, she always appeared to be loved. lying on what she thought looked like a hospital bed in an all-white room. The walls were white, and there were several large spotlight-style lights hanging all around, to where she couldn't see anything else in the room.

She could tell that there were people or figures in the room as they were human-shaped, but could never see their faces. They always seemed to be standing in front of the lights, so all she could see were the outline of a head, shoulder, arms, and torsos down to the legs. She did say that she had never gotten off the bed. She doesn't

remember if she ever tried and just couldn't or just never attempted. But because of this, she thinks either the bed was really low to the ground or with the lights being behind them, it distorted the figures. Either

that or their arms were freakishly long, as it looked like from where they were their arms seemed to almost reach the ground. The first few times she had this dream, she just laid there and kept asking where she was and who they were. She said that all she could hear was some kind of whispering, but it wasn't in a language that she was familiar with at least. My mom is fluent in English, Spanish, and knows enough Italian to be able to tell if it was any of those, to which she says it wasn't.

I know there are thousands of languages out there, but she said it just didn't seem real. It was almost just gibberish to her. However, one other thing that my mom was fluent in was ASL, American Sign Language. My maternal grandparents and one of my uncles were deaf, so it was something that she had learned growing up. She noticed that the figures were using their hand,

a lot, and she could make out some motions that they were making. So she gave it a shot and asked them again what was going on in sign language. To her surprise, she got a response. They told her they didn't know that she could understand them, and she explained how she knew ASL and again asked who they were. They did not answer her, but they said they were trying to figure out what to do with the baby. She was confused at first but said that she finally realized they meant her baby that she was carrying. She asked them if he was okay or if there was something wrong, but all they said was,

it does not belong to you. She said that this was typically where the dream ended. She would wake up confused but not scared or anything and would go about her day. She said that she started having this dream almost every night, and she tried to get more and more information from them, but the answers were few and far in between. The ones that she remembers vividly, that always scared her, were the ones where she was being told the baby doesn't belong to her,

that he needed to go with them, and that he would be safer with them. She started getting increasingly upset and yelling at them, saying that he was hers and that she wasn't going to let anyone take him or harm him. and they would typically end up sedating her, and then she would wake up. After waking up more than a few times, disheveled and upset, my dad started asking her about these dreams. They then brought it up to the doctor, simply explaining that she was having nightmares about Ken. His name was Kenneth. And they just suggested changing up her diet, thinking that that could be affecting her sleep.

She did just that. She changed how she was eating and when, but the dreams did not stop. In fact, they seemed to get worse. She said the figures would approach her and seemed to pinch her everywhere, her arms, her chest, her face and legs. They all burned as it felt like she was being pinched all over. But when she would wake up, there were no marks anywhere on her body. Then, at about 34 weeks, I believe it was,

She had a different dream. This time, one of the figures spoke in English, and they told her it was time and that she should say her goodbyes right now. She remembered an overwhelming feeling of grief, but she had no fight in her. She laid there staring at them. After some time, the room went dark, and she watched the figures all walk out of sight.

That's when she woke up and told my dad that she needed to go to the hospital. She said that she didn't know why, but she felt like something was wrong. They got to the hospital and did a sonogram, and they noticed that there was no movement and no heartbeat. They did an emergency C-section, but he was gone, and nothing they could do would bring him back. That night, my little brother, Ken, passed. They said that it was basically a stillbirth situation, and that there was nothing my mom could have done. done to cause or prevent it. It was a hard time for my parents, especially trying to explain to me, I'm sure, as I didn't

understand what was going on. I sadly don't remember much of the situation, being so young at the time. But the strangeness actually did not end there. My mom stopped having those dreams until about a week or so after his death. She had one more dream, but this time it was different. This time she was sitting in the nursery chair that was in Ken's room. She saw the same dark figure appear in the room, but this time there were no bright lights. They were just dark with no features.

One of them was holding a small baby in their arms wrapped in some kind of blanket. She knew immediately, though, that it was Ken. She said that one of them thanked her for him and that he would be well taken care of. Even though she told me this as an adult, it honestly terrified me. However, she said that she had never been more at peace than in that situation. She simply asked to hold him, and they obliged. She recalled while telling me this that how you would normally feel someone's arms or hands as you pass a baby to or from them, she didn't feel anything but Ken.

She took Ken from them, and she said she held him for what seemed like, hours. Nothing around her mattered in that moment. After some time, she heard the figure that spoke say it was time to go and that she would never see them again. Then, she heard a small child's voice say, I'm okay. I love you. And then they were gone. She said that when she woke up that morning, she felt rested. She felt like she had clarity and that she was ready to move forward. She said that she explained this dream to my dad and it definitely affected him differently. He went through the normal grief stages, from what my mom said, but at the end of it all, she knew everything was okay.

And she did her best to convince my dad of that, too. Even though she seemed to be at peace with the situation, they both agreed that they did not want to try again. Since my mom already had medical issues, not to mention the traumatic dreams, but to mention the traumatic dreams, she didn't want to risk it. She had only shared this dream in detail with my dad and her one close friend. She was too afraid of what others would think of her or if someone would try to take me away as she was unstable or something.

But I am thankful that she shared it with me, even though it scared the hell out of me too. To this day, there is still no explanation for any of it. and it's the biggest mystery of our family. I think that I would like to believe my mom's side of things on this one, though, and believe that Ken is okay, or that he at least didn't suffer anything, and maybe one day I'll meet him again. I know this is not some paranormal story,

but it is true and mine. I have never posted this story anywhere online. I have told the story to friends and family and was thinking about telling the story on a YouTube channel that I am creating, but I realized it was not the kind of story for what I want my channel to be. After hearing what happened to you about getting your video copyright claimed, I figured I would give you a story that you could use free and clear. Today, my words are about something that happened to me.

Back in 2003, I was 22 years old. I was a merchant marine. These are the people who crew import and export ships. You know those ships with huge amount of containers, they require a crew, and I was one of those. This was my first tour, so I was working a lower-paying job. We were delivering equipment to Kuwait for the Iraq War, so we had to travel through the Mediterranean Sea, and at that time, we had a fuel stop on the island of Crete. I was excited because this was the first time I would set foot on a different continent than the one of my birth.

So I made sure to ask ahead of what I would be expected to do if I wanted to be able to go ashore and experience the port. My first engineer told me that I was okay to go ashore, but told me that we would only have a few hours. I had also talked to other guys about what I should take with me and various pieces of advice. Some of this advice I took, like sticking with a buddy, but some I disagreed with and that, in the end, saved me a lot of hassle. So, come that night, I knew that a launch, a small boat, would come aside the ship and we would be taken to port. One of my shipmates told me that he would show me around, let's call him Chip, but he insisted that we get me a new jacket. My current coat was stained with oil and fuel, so yeah, I agreed.

When it got to be the time to go, we all went down to the launch by way of the gangway, which is a movable stair attached to the side of the ship. Once on the boat, I got my first real look at Crete. I could still see the place, a hilly island that just seems to drop into the sea. We ended up hitting dirt and waiting for a bus and some kind of shelter. While we were there, I was watching snow fall on to the ground. Across from where we were was a hill that had all the small, multi-colored homes that I forever think of when imagining Greece. Once we went into town on the bus, we were dropped off at some town square-type area.

Just across the way was a clothing shop that Chip made a beeline for. There was some nice clothing, but we had to go into the basement to find a coat that would fit me. I'm six-five and at this time about 300 pounds. It was hard for me to find clothes that fit at the best of times in America, so I had to settle for a mohair jacket that made me look like an English professor. Then, on to the drinking. Chip had a favorite. bar when he was in town and he knew the staff. It was a small place but had a nice atmosphere.

I liked it. Chip and I started drinking and had ordered a bit of food, and after a bit, Chip was dancing with one of the ladies there. I spent my time talking to the bartender, who was a Belgian woman, who was more than happy to take my US dollar rather than the euro, even if it cost a buck 25 for every euro at the time. This woman was also happy. This woman was also happy to have someone to talk to for the evening because it was slow that night. Chip warned me that we would need to think about leaving soon, so I switched to cola. But the bartender kept putting shots next to the cola because they couldn't just sell cola. So she said. I can drink cola like water, and I had already had a few. The shots were a cinnamon sweet liquor. I was told it was probably

but I don't know. What I do know is that they went down easy and tasted good. I get up to use the restroom, and the room shifts. Oh crap, that was my first warning that I might be drunker than I thought. Once I got back, I realized Chip was gone, so I paid my tab and ran towards where the buses were. Somewhere in there, I vaguely remember getting into a fight, but that may not. have been just me being drunk. What I do remember

was two guys beating up on one guy, and I rushed one knocking him into a wall and then throwing another into a trash bin. The guy that I rescued said something in Greek, but it sounded like where are you from? And I told him Montana.

I don't know why. By the time I get to the buses, they're gone. I head back to the bar, drink some coffee, and have them get me a cab. I hop into the cab and have them take me to the port. When I get there, I ask some other sailors who are standing around if my ship was still there,

and they point to light slowly being lost over the horizon. At this point, I didn't know what to do, and I asked one of the sailors who pointed me to the J-Toc station, Joint Tactical Operations Command. They then told me that I would have to go to the naval base that was here. I got another cab and went to the wharf. went to the base, I remember talking to the gate guard and they directed me to the hospitality area to get a room and to talk to MSC in the morning. MSC stands for military sea lift command.

They're a paramilitary group who oversees civilians who work with the Navy. They were overseeing my ship. Once I got in touch with them, they called my ship via sat phone. They talked with my captain for a bit and then handed the phone to me. Do you want to go home or get back on the ship? The captain asked me. Sir, I want to get back on the ship. I'll see what I can do.

That was it. That was all I knew. I handed the phone back to the commander, and he talked with my captain for a bit more. The commander mentioned something about how much easier it would be if I had my passport. This is where ignoring some of that advice came in handy. I brought my passport. stuffed into my cargo pockets.

Now, I did this because of all those old movies and cartoons that had someone in a foreign country and some policeman asked for their papers. Well, I didn't want to be without my papers, so I brought them. I told the commander that I had my passport and pulled it out. At this point, he grabs the phone and calls someone. I find out that it was the port agent later. This port agent is the guy who organizes everything at the port for the sailors. He comes by and picks me up and takes me to a hotel and tells me not to leave.

Looking out my room window, I see the bar that started this whole thing. I shut my curtains and watch TV. And I mean just watch. I couldn't understand a word. The next day the agent comes and gets me, takes me to the airport, walks me through custom, and I board a plane. Keep in mind, no one told me where I was going. I could have been heading home or to the ship. The flight I was on was going to Athens. At Athens, I met with another person who handed me a ticket for Cairo. At this point, I assumed I was going to my ship. When we landed

in Cairo, I met another gentleman who guided me to his truck. Now, I'm from America and trucks are common. I had seen small trucks before, but not one that was this small and an extended cab. The guy apologizes and I get in the back. I had to stretch sideways to fit. They then take me down what I guessed to be a highway to a small hotel. My room is up and in the back. Like, I felt ridiculous. It was up an external flight of stairs and in an overhanging room, and the stairs went between two walls and I had to squat and walk sideways like a crab to get through. The room was decent, though. The next morning, bright and early, like as the sun was rising, I got to see just the tip

of the pyramids. We drove to this half-wrecked building near the water. At this point, I'm told that I'm at the end of the Suez Canal. The building is being guarded by men in green fatigues, AK-47s and aviator shades. I mean like right out of the moon. movies, and they're standing in front of a half-wrecked building. I have no idea what is going on, other than they're trying to get me to my ship. The driver asks me for my passport.

I give it to him. I don't know what else to do. This was so weird to me. Like here I was trusting all these random strangers to my fate. I didn't know these guys. I trusted them because at the airport they had a sign with my name on it. After what seemed like forever, the driver came out and handed me my passport and told me to get out. We walked over to a wooden boat, like those ones out of Indiana Jones in the third movie.

We got on and took off. This was crazy. I saw my ship looming in the distance. If you've never seen one of these ships from the water line up close, they are huge. Think watching a five-story building gliding across the water at like three. 35 miles per hour. Oh, and we're rushing to meet it. As we get closer, the gangway drops, and I'm directed to hop across.

Now, I know it was only inches, but imagine you're on a skateboard and you're supposed to get close and hop onto a bus as it goes 35 miles per hour. The water rushed below my feet, and I just hopped across. The boat takes off even before I'm all the way up. At the top was one of my shipmates. working the gangway. He was surprised to see me. I found out later that he was told that someone was coming aboard, just not who.

He asked me how I got there, as he couldn't see the boat from his angle. I told him I just flew in, not meaning to joke, just jet and adrenaline lag. He responds with, Okay, Superman. This is when I looked down, and see that through this whole thing, I've been wearing a Superman symbol shirt that my kid picked out for me. The nickname stuck with me for the rest of my time on that ship. Apologies that the story is a bit messy, or I may forget bits, but I'll try to be as detailed as possible.

This happened when I was around 12. I'm 22 now. We were still living in our previous house at the time, and we had one of those old-school kind of desktop PC computers on a desk, or computer stand in our hallway area. So by the time I was about 11 or 12, I had a Facebook account, which a lot of people my age did as well. I had all my friends and people from school on there, as well as family members, mom, sister, sister's boyfriend, etc. I never really did much with it back then, other than talk to friends and family, share quotes and random things that I liked or found interesting, share a few pictures, etc. Just regular kids-slash-teacher stuff. One day, I got a friend request from someone.

I looked at it and saw that it was a guy named Jake, if I remember correctly. From his profile picture, he seemed normal and decent. He was slim, had dark hair, dark brown or black hair, and I think maybe some tattoos, too. He didn't have a lot on his Facebook, just a few things here and there, but that's fair enough, as not everyone does have much on their Facebook profiles. Some people are more on the private side or just like to use it to talk to people. My innocent, naive young self decided to accept his friend request, as I didn't see anything wrong with it.

He started messaging me and we started talking. just casual conversation stuff like, Hey, how are you? How's your day going? What are you up to? Et cetera. I was a sweet kid and was being pleasant and friendly, but he was also being friendly and pleasant. We spoke for a little while. He seemed fairly normal and decent, and I didn't mind talking to him in between going to school and everyday life.

Then, after a little while, He said that he wanted to see more of me and wanted to see pictures. I can't remember how soon it was, but we hadn't been talking massively long, a couple days or so at most. I was not exactly comfortable with doing this, and I'm pretty sure I said that I wasn't sure about doing it, and that I felt really weird about it, and it didn't seem quite right.

But I ended up saying yes, and said that I would take and send the pictures as soon as I could. I don't know why I said yes. I just did. But in my head, I knew that I wasn't going to actually do it. I just said it. I had no plans to do it. I think I said yes because I wanted to get him to shut up.

And I think that I thought if I said yes but never did it, he would eventually get bored and leave me alone. but he brought it up a few times in our conversations and I was trying to avoid it as much as I could, but I didn't know what to do. And even if I was going to do it, I wouldn't have known how to. Our computer didn't have a webcam.

I didn't have Facebook on my phone, nor did I have a photo camera, I don't think. Luckily, he never asked for, and I never gave him my phone number. I never told any of it. anyone. Not my mom, not my sister, not my friends, nobody. I didn't want anyone to know and I was embarrassed. I knew that I was going to stay at my sisters and to her boyfriend's house quite soon. They lived in a

different area, a fair ways away. So I would be away from home, away from my mom, and away from the computer. I only had a little basic phone at the time. I can't remember if I had a button phone or a touchscreen, but I know that I didn't have Facebook on it. So I knew that I would not be talking to this Jake guy for a while. I got to my sister and her boyfriend's house, and we were having a nice time. We used to get along well, and I would often visit her, wherever she lived while growing up, up until about the age of 14. We would do things at home together, go out and do things, and just try to make her

the most of our time together. Roughly a couple days into me visiting my sister's house, I remember being in her kitchen and she brought up this Jake guy. Her partner was nearby too. To start with, I was confused to how she knew and found out. But I was also scared and embarrassed and anxiety kicked in a bit too. I tried to avoid saying too much, and I just didn't really know what to do or say. I went to the bathroom and just sat in there for a bit to try and avoid it. I think my sister's boyfriend, now husband, tried saying or asking me something about it while I was sat in the toilet as well. I ended up coming out of the toilet after a few minutes. I can't really remember what happened after that.

I don't think much else, if anything else, was said about it while I was staying there for the rest of the week. We just carried on with our days, hung out, tried to enjoy our time together, and then I went home after a week of staying with my sister. Once I got home, I dropped my stuff off, got settled back in, and carried on as normal. At some point along the way, I can't exactly remember when or how long after I got home, but my mom ended up mentioning this Jake guy. Again, I was embarrassed. Anxiety kicked in and I didn't know what to do or say and I was confused on how my mom knew or found out. The only thing I could think is that somehow, even though she wasn't good with technology, she must have somehow got on to my Facebook account and snooped through and saw my messages,

even though we had two different profiles on the computer, one for me and my stuff and one for her and her stuff. I think I tried to explain it, at least somewhat, and I was trying to defend myself. But I just didn't want to talk about it, and I just wanted it all to be done and gone. I can't remember exactly how the conversation went, or finished, or what happened after. But I deleted and blocked Jake on Facebook, as well as deleted the messages and went on with my life. Luckily, things carried on as normal, and I've always been very cautious and more aware since. For all I know, it could have been some old, weird, creepy guy pretending to be someone else and trying to prey on minors.

So, dear Jake or whoever you were, let's not meet again. This happened in York, Pennsylvania, about 15 years ago. A guy randomly stumbling into my house ended with me and a friend being shaken down by a drug dealer in a really bad part of town. Here's what happened. I had recently moved to York from Tennessee to be closer to my then-girlfriend. We had rented a house just outside of town. It was a single story but had a walk-out basement that faced the fenced-in backyard. It was a pretty cool setup.

The basement had a kitchen and there was a nice patio as you walked out of the basement, perfect for hosting get-togethers. After we got settled in, we decided to invite some friends over for drinks and a barbecue. We had five people over. We drank quite a few beers and had finished eating. We sat around the patio talking and eventually moved inside. It was a nice cool evening in August, so I left the sliding glass door open, screen closed, to allow the breeze to blow in.

It was getting late and our guests began to leave. Eventually, it was just me, my girlfriend, Kyle and Stephanie. Kyle and Steph were dating. Kyle had not been drinking because he was driving that night. It was nearing midnight, so they were also about to head out. Important to note, Kyle was not from the area either. He and I knew nothing about what. what streets or neighborhoods were safe.

Suddenly, the screen doors slid open and in walked some random guy. He looked to be in his early 20s, but was in rough shape. He had a white t-shirt on that was stained with, what I assumed was dried blood. His pupils were huge and his movements were abnormal. I jumped up and said, Who the hell are you? He said, you're Chris, right? I need help, man.

These guys just beat me up. My name is not Chris. I had quite a few beers flowing through me, so I definitely didn't handle this like I should have. I was more curious what this guy wanted when I should have been alarmed and frightened by this disheveled man barging into my house. Kyle and I questioned him further and eventually told him to get out. This guy swore that if he walked down the street, there were guys waiting to beat him. He said that he needed a ride to his dad's house and would pay us $100 for giving him a ride. He then proceeded to pull out a $100 bill.

Kyle and I were both pretty broke, so he had our interest. His dad only lived 10 minutes away, and it was a safe part of town, according to my girlfriend. Kyle was sober, so he said that he would drive. Our girlfriends would wait at the house for us to return. We get in the car, Kyle's in the driver's seat, the random guy in the passenger seat, and me in the back. I brought a knife in case things got crazy. We get to the house and the guy says, hold up for a sec, let me make sure my dad's home before you take off. He runs up to the house, knocks, and a guy answers the door.

The guy that answered the door starts screaming at this dude and tells him to get the hell off his porch. A random guy comes running back to the car and says, A change of plans? I need you to bring me to my friend's house on Princess Street. We protested this request, but he pulled out another $100 bills, so off to Princess Street we went. Like I mentioned, Kyle and I knew nothing about York, Pennsylvania.

What I now know, Princess Street is not a place that you want to visit at one in the morning. We pulled up to a bar that had a big Colt 45 neon sign glowing in the window. The guy said that his friend lived upstairs. He needs to go make sure he's home, and he'll be right back. So we were just to wait outside. Kyle and I start looking around and see women standing on the street corners. A random guy is stumbling down the sidewalk and rambling incoherently.

We start getting majorly freaked out and are about ready to base. Just when we were about to punch it out of there, the random guy comes walking out with five other dudes. I noticed that our unwanted guest has a fresh stream of blood coming out of his nose. One of the guys approached the vehicle and motioned to roll the window down. Kyle, like an idiot, obliges. This new character leans into the open window and says, Your friend here owes me a lot of money for products that he hasn't paid. for, so settle his debt now, or this car is mine. Now, get out of the car. We sat there frozen

with panic. I explained that we didn't know this guy, that we just gave him a ride, as if these guys cared. I was certain that we were about to lose a lot of money and, or get shot. I told the guy that I'll get out. I just needed to open the door so I could get out of the back seat. The car was a two-door, so I had to push the passenger seat forward in order to open the door. The guy took a step back, and I went to open the door. Kyle realized that we had an opportunity to get away, so he floored it. All I remember is our unwanted guest, screaming, Don't leave me here with these guys, as we sped off.

We stopped at the police station on the way back to my house and filed a report. The cops didn't seem to care. They were more interested in why I was out in public while intoxicated. We never did hear from that random guy again, and I can only guess what happens to him after we left. It's never too early to plan your summer story in Europe with WestJet, from rolling countryside to cobblestone streets. Begin your next chapter.

Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent. WestJet, where your story takes off. For the purpose of this story, names and room numbers will be changed. I'm a small 18-year-old girl. I feel like that adds to the fear factor of this story. This happened on a Saturday night literally last week. My friend Leah and I attended a football game. We got bored and decided to head to a haunted house with our friends Terry, Dawson, and Emma.

It was a haunted corn maze, and we had a blast. Eventually, the night started to wind down, and me, Leah, and Terry decided to go back to Terry's dorm room so the hangout could continue. We had dyed Leah's hair and were currently watching a movie when there were three loud slams on the door. Terry's roommate went to answer the door, we heard someone grunt and then saw a man who none of us knew, walk past Terry's room door, and into the bathroom. We were all so confused, and we poked our heads out the door to see Terry's roommate on the floor. The man had pushed him to the ground just to enter the common area of the room. All of us agreed that we did not know this man. We started laughing and making jokes about the situation,

because that's how we coped with it at the time. Terry's roommate went to go tell the front desk that someone had come into our room and started taking a shower. Again, it was a Saturday night, so we just assumed the man was drunk or something and was in the wrong room. Eventually, we started hearing rustling in the bathroom, and loud scratches and bangs coming from the door. We started to get scared, so we locked ourselves in Terry's room. Eventually, we heard the bathroom door opened, and we all turned towards the locked door. We all jumped as this man began to bang. on the door with his fists. He was breathing so heavily that we could hear it from the other side

of the door. Leah and I screamed as the banging proceeded to get louder and louder as he began to throw his full weight into the door. Terry was in the back corner of their room as they were starting to spiral into a panic attack. Holy crap, what's happening? Leah questioned all of us. We had no clue. At first we thought it was just a drunk guy, but no guy who was hammered out of his mind has enough coordination to take a running start into a door. Finally, the banging stopped. We thought the man had left, but we didn't dare leave the room. It was silent for three minutes, and then the scratching started.

This man was scraping his fingernails down the freaking door like a dog trying to be let into a house. Let me in, he whispered. Please, let me in. Please. I know you're in there. Let me in, damn it! He began to yell and bang on the door again.

How was no one else in this dorm floor hallway coming to help us? Fear was crawling up my body. I didn't know what to do. I have a stress disorder that I take medication for, and this is not the situation for me to be in. I slide down the wall and sat on the floor with my head and my hands to try and calm myself. It had been almost 10 minutes since Terry's roommate went to get campus security. We finally called the front desk of the dorm.

Apparently they had already called security the minute the roommate got down there. How was it taking them this long to get there? The man continued to throw himself into the door for another 10 minutes. We thought the thing was going to break, he slammed into it so much. But finally, after 25 minutes, campus security, arrived. They sat the man down and started to have a conversation with him instead of taking him out of the freaking dorn room. At this point, I was pissed. What if we were in a place where we couldn't lock a door? Like, outside? Would they still have taken 25 minutes to show up? The man tells

them that he hasn't been drinking, that he hasn't smoked anything and that he's fine. They continue to question him, and with each question he begins to get more violent. They finally are able to escort the man out, but not before he scuffled with one of the cops. We could hear it all through the door. Campus security then knocked on our door, telling us that it was safe to come out. When we opened the door, something hit the floor. The cops' eyes widened as he realized what it was. It was a pocket knife that had been lodged into the door.

Not only did it take these people 25 minutes to show up, They also didn't check the man or the surrounding area to see if there was a weapon. What a freaking joke? Leah started to cry as we left the room. The security decided to check the rest of the dorm, and lo and behold, they found a crumpled up ball of tinfoil with what they concluded to be heroin in it. Yeah, great job. This dude was methed out of his mind with a freaking pocket knife,

and all they could do was say, have a safe night before leaving the dorm room. Have a safe night my back end. We're all complaining to the campus next week about how the situation was handled, mainly because I know that that man is still on campus. I saw him walking down the road yesterday, just like nothing happened. So screw you, campus security, and screw you methed out, man. This happened to me nearly a decade ago, but I still look.

remember it vividly as I still have no explanation for it. I grew up in a small town that had a single grocery store, the elementary school was also the church, and they built a new middle school while I was still living there, and the high school was in another district. The most exciting thing to happen there was when a new pizza place was built and that they delivered. It was mostly agricultural land, so there wasn't much there in ways of entertainment, especially for teenagers. So, needless to say, I moved after graduating. At the time, I was going to college. I was living in a cozy little studio apartment and was broke. So, during the holiday break, I liked to go back home to gorge myself on free food and gather plenty of leftovers to last me at least.

a week. I had the drive pretty down. In fact, it took me about an hour and 38 minutes, give or take a few, I'm sure, depending on lights and traffic. My car told me the time and mileage that it took for each drive after shutting it off, so after this incident, I had tracked it and remembered it since. Anyways, the drive out there was fine, same with the visit. I left the following Friday in order to get home and have a few days to recoup before I went back to school. I left a little after 7 p.m. as it was already dark outside. There also weren't a lot of street lights, so I would be relying heavily on my headlights. I headed out, putting on an album that I knew would actually last most of the drive. However, I didn't get very far. It was about 40 minutes into the

drive, and I definitely had already passed the city where my high school was and the football field behind it. I was on the back roads because there were hardly ever any cars taking them that late. I liked taking this way, because I could go a little over the speed limit without worries of cops. Say whatever you want about that. As I was driving, probably getting a little bit too into the song that was playing, I started getting a flashing check engine light. My worst nightmare.

I had a fairly new car, and I kept up on the maintenance. Hence, part of the reason I was broke, so I had no idea what it could be. I pulled over to the non-existent shoulder and put on my flashers. I went to the hood,

using the little flashlight I kept in my glove box to see if I could clearly see a problem. I don't know Jack about cars. So I checked the oil, and when I saw that it seemed full, and there was nothing that sprayed everywhere and no smoke, I was out of ideas. At this point, I had walked back to get into my car, wondering if I should call AAA, or just my dad and make him make the drive into the middle of nowhere to check it out. I decided I would call my dad first to see if he wanted to come out here, or if he would rather that I just have it towed back to their place. I looked down to dial out and then looked up to see what I thought were headlights coming towards me.

I thought maybe they would be kind enough to stop and could help, so I hesitated on dialing out and just kept looking forward. That's when I saw the most bizarre thing happen with those lights. Instead of seeing them slowly get closer and closer to my side, they seemed to stop and do a parallel move so that they were directly in front of me. It was like the car was in the opposite lane and was pushed back from the side to be in front of me, ready to play chicken. It caught me off guard. But then the last thing that I remember was the two headlights. then turned into a whole row of them.

It had to have been like six or ten in a row, and they were blinding. I held my hand up to block them, and that was the last thing that I remembered. The next thing I remember after that was waking up feeling cold and wet. It wasn't until I stood up and looked around that I realized where I was. I was back in the school's football field that I had already. passed. I gave myself a once over to make sure I still had all of my limbs, that I wasn't in pain or anything, just really shaken up for obvious reasons. I had no idea how I had gotten there, or what happened. I didn't even have my phone on me. The only thing I could do was walk to the road

until I could find my car again. I figured that that would take less time to walk to my car, Then back to my parents' place. It did take me some time, and, as expected, no car ever drove by. But I saw my car with the lights still on. I had never been happier to see it. I got my second wind and pretty much jogged all the way to my car, getting in and locking all the doors. Then I grabbed my phone to check the time. It had been four hours.

I left around seven, and it was past 11 at this point. I had a text from my sister asking if I had made it home okay, as well as a missed call from her. But that wasn't all. There was also a call out that was made to my dad's phone, but it was less than a second. It was like I had called and immediately hung up. And the time matched about the time that I would have pulled over. So I was legitimately missing four hours of time, and I couldn't recall anything. I sat there for a while trying to bring the events back, but nothing ever came to me.

And in case anyone was curious, I had not been drinking, I wasn't high and I hadn't used anything, and I wasn't on any medications. I've never had medical issues that would cause me to pass out. I called my sister and told her that I'd had car troubles and totally forgot to message her when I got home. I got home that night, and I hardly slept. I was still trying to figure out what had happened. I had to tell somebody about it, though, so I called my sister the next day and talked to her. I didn't want to worry my parents, and my sister was like my diary, so I told her everything.

She also thought it was super weird and totally believed me for whatever reason. I know that if someone told me this story, I would be hesitant to believe it as well. I took my car in later that week for a free checkup, and they said they saw nothing wrong with it. They also pulled the error reports, and it had no record of ever throwing on the check engine light, which confused me even further. That was the only reason. I had pulled over to begin with. I still haven't told my parents because they are old school, so I don't think they would believe

it. But I have told a few of my friends who said they thought it could have been an abduction. To that day, I had always believed that there had to be something out there. There's no way that we're the only intelligent life in this whole universe, but I think that really solidified it for me. That's the only thing I tell myself that makes sense because otherwise, I have nothing. I'm open to hear any interpretations that you or your listeners might have, though, and thank you for sharing my experience.

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