As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 122 - Scary Stalker, Spring and Dorm Room Horror Stories - 13 True Scary Stories

Episode Date: May 5, 2024

Welcome to the chilling 122nd episode of The ATRD Podcast! Today, we will step into the shadowy corners of reality, where everyday life takes an eerie twist & ordinary people experience the extraordinary. Today we will be diving into stories about the horror of stalkers, scary happenings in the spring as well as dorm room horror stories. Today's episode contains 2 stories narrated by my wife- Marie's Field Of Horrors. So, turn down the lights, tune in, and let the haunting tales of everyday people take you down that dark and creepy road. Remember, these aren't just stories... these are true experiences that remind us that our world can truly be scarier than fiction. Have a Story To Submit? ➤ https://www.astheravendreams.com Or Post to the Subreddit ➤ https://reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream Support the channel for Early Access AND more! Patreon ➤ https://patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Join ➤ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkW0ihdMHfBUjQrMKjRto6g/join Or Check out the Merch Store! ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in today's Video... TopOfTheScene, SpoonCollector, Matthew P., LordOfTheNoodles, Simply_Sharissa, Rachael87, APTKME, Electronic_Plane_587, T Caldwell, Izzy, Carla Base, AaraMac... As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. 'As The Raven Dreams' is a community where we explore the darker parts of human existence through true and harrowing stories. From sinister encounters with strangers and stalkers, to terrifying experiences that defy explanation and unsettling mysteries that linger in the shadows, I am here to tell you the most haunting narratives ever whispered. Much Love, and Sleep Well... ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #RedditStories ➤ Stories include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Viewer discretion is always advised. ➤ ALL Audio of this Podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format, without explicit permission ➤ If you like any of the following stories, consider subscribing! - Dark Web horror stories, creepy lets not meet stories, stalker stories, Glitch In The Matrix Stories, Unexplained Horror stories, Paranormal stories, cryptid encounter stories, Crazy ex lover stories, creepy neighbor stories, quantum immortality, true scary stories from reddit, or any other True horror Stories! ➤ And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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And profite. Viarai, the voice that we love that we love. If you have a story you would like to hear featured on this podcast, please go to as the ravendreams.com and click the button to submit your story. Also, if the platform you're listening on has the option to rate this podcast, please, consider are doing so. And thank you. I know that this story is going to sound crazy. And there will be a lot of questions of how did you not know or whatever.

But please, hear me out. Because this is a doozy. I've actually read other stories that are similar to this in the past. Or heard them under their channels like Let's Read, which was scary in its own way. but to have something like this actually happen is, well, it's another level of horror. This actually happened to me a couple of years ago in 2020. I live in a small house, rent it actually, in a fairly quiet neighborhood. I have always felt safe here, but this event definitely challenged that notion.

When this happened, I had lived here for about a year and a half. half or so. Like I said, it was in 2020, and I had moved in 2019. I was sitting in my bedroom, on my bed, just watching YouTube videos on my laptop before going to sleep, when I heard something coming from above me. Now, I do have an attic, and the attic is, well, an attic. It seems sealed off well enough, but in that year of living there, I had already had a little bit. I had already had a one issue with squirrel's nesting after finding a small hole to get in, or chewing the hole himself. Who knows? I was sitting there, and I heard what sounded like a similar scratching.

At first, I wasn't certain that I heard it. But then it happened again, and I was immediately annoyed. I decided that I would ignore it because, well, I was lazy, and I didn't want to call an exterminator in the midst of COVID. That may sound stupid, but I'm a bit of a shut-in, and I don't like people. I figured that he would nest in the spot that he found, and that would be it. Life would go on. Then, after a couple of days, the noises started to get louder. It wasn't just scratching, but thumps.

And then what sounded like footsteps? I decided that I would go ahead and check the attic at the very least to see what I could find. The attic was dusty and cluttered, not just with my old stuff, but there were actually some boxes up there from the previous tenant. I had never taken the time to organize it, and it was basically just storage. I stepped up the ladder and took a quick look around, literally a glance. Nothing looked out of place. The boxes were all where I thought they should be. There weren't any immediately visible holes in the wall, and nothing did. even really looked disturbed.

I thought maybe it was nothing, that the noises were actually outside, or I was just being weirdly paranoid. Then came the next phase for the horror. I had things go missing, or getting moved around in my house. The first thing I noticed missing was underwear, which, looking back, is creepy as hell.

They would go missing, or I would find them in weird places. like on the floor in the hallway or in the kitchen. It was weird and it definitely put me on high alert, but I couldn't really figure out a way to explain it. The doors were all locked. The windows didn't open up, they opened with outward cranks, and it was near impossible to get in them from the outside. Then, one day, when I came home, I found my refrigerator open,

as in wide open The doors have a dumb lock hinge or something So if you open it all the way out You have to pull it to shut it Because it locks in place It was like someone had opened the door to get something And left it open I ended up calling the police

And talking with an officer that came out About the whole thing I explained what I saw And while he seemed to believe me there was no evidence of intrusion. So he basically said he would make a report about a potential break-in, but that there wasn't much else to do without evidence. He recommended that I'd get a ring doorbell cam to see if someone had a key to my place,

or something like that. If nothing else, it would offer a bit of security. I did, and there was literally nothing that it caught. I was feeling confused. a bit paranoid. I was thinking that I had some kind of demon or poltergeist in my place that was making my life hell. Honestly, I was losing my mind, thinking I was just going crazy and that nothing was actually happening. Or I was sleepwalking and didn't realize it.

I kept hearing the noises in the attic during the day. I kept noticing things out of place or missing altogether. But there was no noise. evidence of someone breaking into my home, or proof that there was even anyone there. Then, things came to a very abrupt and rather terrifying head. I got home from work as normal, thinking I was going to find my clothes or food in a new random place, but that's not quite what happened. What I did find, though, at the very least, justified all of my craziness and paranoia. I put my purse down, grabbed some water, and walked to my bedroom to get my laptop.

When I opened the door, I nearly peed my pants. The room was completely destroyed, with insulation and plaster and sealing popcorn all over the place. And there, right in the middle of the disaster, was a man, completely unconscious. And, of course, above him was the whole. hole that he had fallen through. I immediately shut the door, grabbed a knife from the kitchen in case this guy woke up,

and called the cops. It's impossible to explain the feeling of, I guess, invasion of privacy, destruction of security. Anyways, it's hard to explain what I felt at that moment. The cops showed up and they had

to bring in a paramedic as well because the guy was pretty messed up. He'd fallen and smashed. his head pretty hard against my dresser, and apparently broke in his shoulder as well. They got him out of my apartment, and there were so many questions. Did I know the guy? Had I ever seen him? How did he get in? Thankfully, one of the responding officers was the original one that helped me with the report a few days prior. He and I walked up into the attic to kind of sort things through, and we figured it out.

Like I mentioned before, the attic was a bit of a cluttered mess, and things didn't look disturbed because they really weren't. He had slid a couple of boxes over, but not really gone through or messed anything up. This was also the day that I learned that my attic had a small loft, or a little hidden room kind of thing on one side. There was a small wooden door that slid off to the side, and inside were a few blocks. blankets and pillows, a backpack, some of my clothing, and a bunch of food wrappers and trash from food that he'd taken from my kitchen. This man had been living there, by the looks of it, for a little while. He would later confess that he'd been living there for around three months, and if he hadn't

accidentally stepped on to a weak part of the ceiling, I probably wouldn't have known he was there. He eventually did tell the cops everything. He told them that he was homeless, and that he'd been living there without me knowing. Apparently, one day in the winter, it was snowing, and he was just looking for a place to stay warm. I, in my infinite wisdom, just so happened to leave my back door unlocked, and he had made his way in. He went up into the attic to find a place to hide and sleep for, originally just the night. But he liked it. and he decided to stay for a while.

He claimed that he would never have hurt me and that he didn't mean to scare me, which honestly wasn't much comfort, and that he was just going to stay for a little while longer and then leave. It was also fun to explain to the owner of the house that I now had a large hole in my bedroom's ceiling. But thankfully there was a police report to explain that

and say that it wasn't caused by me. and their insurance covered the cost. I can tell you that I also organized the attic after this as well, tossing everything I didn't need or wasn't mine, and I've kept that little door on the loft open at all times. I also installed a few lights up there that I can turn on from the hallway, so it's brightly lit, and I can see everything from the ladder. Obviously, nothing like this has happened again,

and hopefully nothing ever will. will, but the fact that it happened at all was nothing shy of a nightmare. This story is going to sound a bit crazy, but I swear that every word of it is true. This happened two years ago, during spring of 2022, when my buddies and I decided to go on a hike at a nature preserve. I don't want to give up where I live or where this happened. it was just in a very heavily wooded part of the country. Let's say that.

We had actually planned this trip for a few weeks prior to going because we knew that it was going to be an absolutely gorgeous spot. We picked the longest trill that we could find, figuring that we would make a day out of the whole thing. Everything was perfect at first, just us guys chatting and making jokes as we took in the fresh smells of the springtime forest. About two miles through, things took a turn when we caught a whiff of what I can only describe as an absolutely gnarly stench,

like a porta-potty that's been baking in the sun for a couple of weeks. We followed the reek off-trail, thinking we were going to have to report a body to the forestry service or something, because it was bad, like really bad. We ended up going off trail a bit and into the trees, and saw what almost looked like a makeshift homeless camp. Now, I have a full understanding that, when people are homeless, living in the woods, hygiene isn't a top priority.

And at first, I thought that we were going to be horrible people for judging so harshly when it was just a person down on their luck living in the woods. But almost as if he read my mind, my buddy Kyle said something to the effect of, Nah, it's not just B.O. That smells like something is actually dead. We all kind of agreed. And I made a comment about turning back. But Kyle mentioned that we should at least go check it out,

to make sure so we could properly report it. I think he was just morbidly curious, but what do I know? Anyways, we made the short trek over to the camp, and when we got to the actual tents, we quickly figured out what the stench was coming from. There was what looked like meat, I guess. It was definitely some kind of flesh, though what animal had came from was anyone's guess. It was all hanging in one of the tents, with flies buzzing around it. I swear a dozen rats ran out of that damn time.

tent as we approached. The smell was overwhelming as we got closer, but to the best of what we could see, it was just the hanging meat that was decaying, and there wasn't anyone around. That was good enough for me. I told them that I had to get away before I puked, and the other two agreed. When we turned to leave, we all saw who, I'm going to assume, was the owner of this little camp. There was a rather hefty man wearing a bright, yellow sundress, with his hair and beard matted like he'd been sleeping out there for the last decade, and standing there barefoot in the middle of a grassy patch. In one hand, he was holding an old bucket, which I have no idea what that contained, and in the other hand, he was holding an old rusted machete. He was just standing there

staring at us with this grin on his face. and he started laughing as we all turned to look at him. He cackles and follows up with, I haven't had visitors in a while. Good, I was running low on food. Yeah, this guy just referred to us as food. Next thing we know, he starts walking towards us, with this pretty little sundress swing in the wind as he took the steps.

Which, if I may add, is a visual that will never leave my brain as long as I live. The contrast of the dress against this psycho holding a rusted machete and charging at us was almost dizzying. I have never booked it faster in my life. No lie, we were hauling ass through these woods, with this crazy bastard less than a dozen feet behind us, swinging that machete and laughing with each step that he took.

Even when we hit the actual trail, we could still hear him cast. and saying things like, Just give me the fat one. It'll last me a month. I think that I was the fat one between the three of us in this case, and that made the whole thing so much worse. By the time we stopped running, and were sure that he was no longer chasing us,

we were miles from the trailhead. We all collapsed and were wheezing like we'd run a marathon because, based on the distance and speed, we kind of had. and none of us were in the best shapes of our lives, so it was rough. Kyle asked if we were good and what the hell we should do, and it was at this point that we all remembered we lived in the 21st century. Jake pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for the park rangers.

I feel bad for whatever poor sap took his call, because he was explaining things way too fast and panicky. I'm sure that it sounded a bit unhinged. They said that they would send a patrol to investigate, but who knows if they ever found anything. We ended up having to finish off the trail and get back to the parking lot, feeling like we were dying, which was just awful. That was the last time that we ever decided to go to that reserve. We kept things a bit more local if we wanted to hike, and none of us wanted to run into that bad crap crazy hermit ever again. While I was attending an out-of-state university, I lived in one of their dorm rooms.

It was cheaper than trying to find an apartment or roommate that I could get along with, so I went with living in a dorm with someone hopefully I could tolerate. That worked out well enough when I was roomed with this guy that I'll call Mark. Mark was an all right guy. We weren't best friends. In fact, we had some pretty major differences, but we could agree. to disagree and tolerated each other well enough. Sometimes we would talk, waiting for the time to pass.

We'd pick up something from the gas station or food for each other, so I guess we did all right. But Mark also seemed to keep some things to himself, which was understandable. We all want some kind of privacy, right? Mark had a small safe that he kept under his bed. I'd watched him pull it out at times and open it with a key. It was one of those heavy fireproof safes, but probably one of the smallest ones I'd ever seen. I guess it did need to be small enough to hide in a dorm room.

Like I said, he kept it under his bed. He always seemed to hover over it or shield it when I was in the room, pretty obviously not wanting me to see what was in it. So I just tried to be as respectful and look away or turn around, like that was my intention all along. So he felt like I wasn't being nosy. I absolutely was,

but I wasn't going to act on anything. I assumed he probably just kept money or maybe jewelry in it or something like that. Judging by the way that he dressed and the things that belonged to him in the room, I assumed that his family was pretty well off. But, then Mark's demeanor began to change.

He was rarely home, and when he was, he didn't stay long. I liked to go to this local pizza and wing place on Tuesdays, and we would both chip in. But two weeks in a row, he said he didn't want any. Fine, sometimes you get burned out on things. But it was the situation that made me raise an eyebrow. The first time I asked him, he looked like he wanted to say yes, but kept looking at his watch, almost contemplating the time. He didn't normally have anything to do on Tuesday nights.

No classes. And I know that he didn't have a job, which was another reason I assumed he was being supported by his parents or guardians. I suppose he could have just had something to do that night, but he didn't look normal, I guess. Like, when you're normally trying to decide if you have the time to do something, something, or trying to calculate how long this or that might take, you know. He looked more like he was nervous, like he had an importance deadline somewhere else,

but was really torn about leaving. It's hard to explain. I just told him it was no big deal. I would still get what he wanted that time, and he said thanks as he was rushing out the door. Weird, but no big deal. But the next week, he looked even more flustered. He didn't even seem to realize what day it was, but when it finally clicked, he declined and quickly left. Both times he was carrying his duffel bags, so I assumed he probably started doing something better with his time instead of eating greasy pizza.

So I let it go, sometimes inviting another buddy over to split the cost. But then there were other more suspicious events that occurred involving Mark. When he was trying to get into his safe, he would ask me to leave the room. At first I looked at him confused, but he seemed suspicious, maybe even paranoid. It nearly became a full-blown argument, but I was fed up and just left. Several times it could be sitting at my desk doing work. He would clear his throat, and even though I had no idea what he was even doing, I would have to go into the bathroom, or leave the dorm room.

Quite frankly, it was pretty annoying. But, again, I lived with it until he started getting way too possessive over anything on his desk or his duffel bag. He kept a padlock on his duffel bag. I assumed he just had his gym stuff in it. What the hell could be in it that was worth locking up? One day, I had come back from class, and as I was entering the door, Mark was at his desk.

He quickly shoved whatever he was riding into his drawer. I remember rolling my eyes, annoyed that he was all of the sudden so secretive and paranoid. I actually confronted him about it, and it turned into a small argument. I just remember him looking at me with his eyes glossy and wide, as he slowly shook his head. You have no idea who I am. You know nothing about me. I would suggest that you stay in your lane, man. I scoffed and asked if that was a threat, and he said, No. Well, at least not one for me.

I ended up leaving again to cool off, not wanting to deal with him. I just let what he said roll off and ignored it. Mark was a pretty small guy. I definitely wasn't afraid of him, but I also didn't want to be involved in whatever he was doing. Something that was common at the uni that I went to was the illegal sales of a certain RX that's supposed to help you focus. I assumed that he was getting involved with that. I wasn't going to say anything.

It was a known problem, and staff and security were already looking into it, so I found no point in it. But I was not going to be treated like I was the problem, so I did ask about changing dorms. Unfortunately, they were full, so they just put me on a wait list. I figured that I would just grin and bear it. but things escalated over something pretty innocent. There was an odor in our room that seemed to come out of nowhere.

I thought maybe something went bad in the mini-fridge, so I cleaned it out, but the smell still lingered. For days, the smell stayed in our room. I opened the windows. I went and bought a few air fresheners, and when those didn't work, I cleaned the whole room. I threw a lot out. I smelled all the bed sheets and blankets, but even though they didn't have the smell, I threw them in the trash bag,

and put them out in the hall planning on taking them to the laundromat. One of the last things that I did was clean under the beds. If there's one thing my mom taught me, she was a housekeeper and a nanny, it was to clean from the top down. So it was last on my list. I pulled a few things out from under my bed first, none of which were clean from the top down. causing the smell. Then I hesitated when I went to Mark's bed. I knew that he at least kept his safe under there,

and I feared if I started cleaning under it, he would show up and another fight would ensue. So I tried to see how much time I may have. I texted Mark asking him if he was coming back right after class, and if so, if he could pick up some orange juice on his way back, explaining that I had to toss the one that we had. which wasn't a lie. He agreed to do so, which told me that I had a few hours before he would be home,

and I decided to go for it. I lifted his mattress, and the smell seemed to get stronger. I saw a few wrappers, a paper plate with something small stuck to it, but it was also not the source of the smell. However, I did lock on to that notorious duffel bag. I didn't realize it was under his bed. I thought Mark kept it on him with how paranoid he had become, but I guess if it contained what I thought it did,

he probably didn't want to carry it out and risk being caught. But at that point, curiosity was taking over, and I wanted to know what the hell was in that bag. Why did Mark all of the sudden change? Why was he so secretive? And what was in that bag? and his safe. The only problem was that the lock was still on the bag.

It locked the two zippers together, so after looking at it for a few seconds, I figured I could probably pull them part about an inch, and maybe finagle it enough to pull the zipper between the two and shine my phone light into it to see what it was. I grabbed my phone and crouched down, reaching for the zipper, when my phone went off.

I was getting a call from an unknown number. Not that it was a number I didn't have saved, but the number was unknown, blocked, anonymous, however you want to look at that. I wouldn't normally answer those, but in the situation I was in, it seemed too convenient. So I answered it. The voice was low and gruff. Leave it alone. It's none of your concern. He told you that.

Didn't he? Then the line went dead. I had no idea who that was. Couldn't recall the voice at all, but that was the least of my concerns. My bigger problem was, was he referring to me messing with the bag? And if so, how the hell would they have known what I was doing? We did have a window, or two, actually, but they were higher up and wider, because they were above our beds and close to the ceiling.

The floor that we were on was kind of underground, so our windows were practically near the ground. Think like basement windows. So the only way someone would have been able to see me from the window would be to have been squatting or laying down by the window. No one was around the windows, and I also would have seen them or heard them approach. This was in the fall, so I would have heard the crunch of the leaves as they walked by the window.

I immediately threw the mattress back down, leaving everything where it was, the plate, and the wrapper too. I sat on my bed thinking about what just happened, and I looked around the room. That's when I noticed that Mark's laptop was still sitting on his desk, open. The screen was dark, but I noticed that his webbed, webcam was open and the light was orange. I had the same model of laptop, and I knew that the light being orange meant that it was on. If I wasn't on edge before, I definitely was now. Was I being watched?

And by whom? Surely, if Mark was watching and saw that I was under his bed, he would have just called or texted me, right? But that was definitely not Mark's voice. All I knew was that I did not want to be any more involved than I already was, so I left. Like the disembodied voice said, it's none of my concern, and I'm leaving it that way. I brought Mark's bedding back in and put it back on his bed to make it look like nothing was out of place. Then I packed a small bag of clothes and some necessities, grabbed my bedding outside, and I left. I called a friend from the laundromat and asked if I could.

could crash on their couch for a few nights, because I sure as hell was not comfortable staying in my dorm anymore, and they agreed to let me. Once I got to his place, I explained what had happened, and he thought that it sounded a lot worse than just some pill sales. He suggested that he may have even been involved in some kind of dark web stuff, especially since the webcam may have been on and watching. He told me that I should really consider telling someone about it. it for Mark's safety, and reluctantly, I finally agreed. I called security anonymously,

and my friend did the talking, that way they wouldn't recognize my voice. He didn't go to the same school that I was in, and he told them about a bad smell coming from a specific room, and mentioned seeing someone matching Mark's description with a suspicious bag. They said they would look into it, and that was the end of it. I stayed with my friends for a few nights before trying to go back to the dorm. I did get a call while I was there, however, asking me if I had seen Mark, and if he had been acting strange. I confirmed that he had been, but said that I had no idea why. But I did mention the smell.

They said they didn't smell anything, so I went back to the room that night. To my surprise, the smell was gone. along with most of Mark's stuff. His computer was gone. The safe and bag under his bed were also gone. There was a jacket in the closet and a basket with some random clothing in it that he left, but that was it. After seeing this, they asked if he had mentioned anything about leaving, and I said no. They thanked me for my time and then left.

After everything, the room felt way too eerie, so I went back to. to my friend's house, unwilling to stay there. I don't know if it was worse when his stuff was there or after it was empty. But to make things worse, to add to everything that's already happened. I was stopped by campus security and a cop as I left one of my classes. They started asking me questions about Mark once again, because not only did it look like he moved out of his dorm, but he had also missed a few classes. That's when I find him. I finally told them everything that I witnessed. I know, call me a coward for not telling anyone sooner,

but since he was still around, I didn't think it was any of my business to say anything. I also didn't want to be looked at as a suspect. But now that he seemed to be missing, I knew that I needed to buck up. They thanked me for my time, and that was the end of it. I kept the dorm as a way to store my stuff, since I had to pay for it anyways,

but I could not sleep there or stay there longer than a few hours. It freaked me out too much. I never heard from or about Mark again after that, and I have no idea where he is. I hope wherever he went, it wasn't because of the shady stuff happening, but it's hard to imagine that he just got up and walked away from it all.

In the end, I honestly just hope that, He's okay. My insurance had changed, and the local pharmacy I was to use was notorious for horrible service. I had heard about a nearby privately owned pharmacy, and found they had outstanding service and even free delivery, which was great. I got used to my doorbell camera recording this gentleman who was older, looking at the prescription, and on this day he called out my full name, which was odd. Then he let out a little whistling tune, but it was not any known song, just made up.

I save honorees on my doorbell video camera, so I saved this. I replayed it several times. Weird, I thought. So later that night, I was in the living room watching a series that was old, I've never seen it. Each night I watched two episodes. The whole house was dark, quiet, and secure. The show was possibly audible outside, but not noisy. Suddenly, I heard something by the corner living room window.

It seemed with the light of the TV and the streetlight that I could see the figure of a man, and I muted the TV. Suddenly, I heard that same funny tune of that earlier delivery man and froze. You know how a little boy up to something sometimes whistles? It was just like that. I am a night owl, and it was 2.30 a.m. Was he going to try to peek in? I knew that he couldn't see into those curtains. Was he going to attempt to break in? I wanted to see if I heard any further sound and just heard the whistling. So I turned up the TV to maximum volume and then removed the mute setting, and the main character in the show was talking very loudly. Then I muted it again and heard nothing.

But I saw the shadow past the windows, leaving. He didn't seem to return, but it really gave me the creeps. Was he about to break into that window? Scary. Maybe a peeping creepy Tom or what? It seemed that he was, for some reason, fixated on looking at my name or reading my prescription info, in an overly curious manner each time he'd come upon review. yet I only took simple medications of no real interest to anyone.

So, Mr. Whistler, curiosity killed the cat, so walk on and be gone. I'm usually a pretty laid-back person who really tries not to automatically assume the worst about strangers. I like to believe that everyone means well in how they do things, and most people don't have malicious intent. most people. I know there are people out there that are messed up and really mean to do harm, but they're the outliers. I have one experience that I want to share that definitely involved one of those outliers, and it's one that taught me to trust my instincts, more than anything. It was a Friday night, late last July.

I was getting ready to grab dinner after a disgustingly intense week of 24. 12-hour workdays. My team at work had lost a few people and hadn't had the budget or time to replace them. So our workloads were doubled. Of course, the pay wasn't. That's the joys of being a salaried exempt employee, I guess. After the week I'd had, cooking was the last thing I wanted to do, so I put in an order to a hole-in-the-wall tie place a couple blocks for my apartment.

I figured I could use the exercise after being cooped up in the office, all week. The food was ready lightning fast when I arrived, so I ended up leaving the restaurant and starting my short walk home at around 7.15 p.m. It was still pretty light out, but that sweltering July heat was finally letting go of the day, and I was thinking that it was going to be a really nice evening walk. There was even a slight breeze picking up, so I was getting pretty psyched about this short little trek. I was maybe about two blocks from my place when some movement in an overgrown hedge caught my peripheral vision. At first I thought it was just a cat or something, maybe a raccoon. But then I heard a horse whisper rasp out of the shrubbery.

Hey, buddy, sorry to bother you, but can you help me for a second? I froze for a moment, thinking there was no way I had just encountered the talking shrubbery from biblical times. But after a couple of seconds, the man that was talking to me stepped out from the hedges onto the path. I sort of just paused and stared at him. He looked slightly unkempt, but didn't look like he was too far removed from society. He had a thick beard, but his hair looked decently clean, and his clothes looked like they were in good condition. It was a bit weird that he was hiding in the bushes,

but, again, I don't like to judge too much on first impressions. Sure, part of me wanted to turn and walk away, but then the other part of me thought, what if he really needs help? And you just leave him there with no one. I nodded slightly at him and just kind of asked. Hey, yeah, sure, what's going on? How can I help you? Are you okay?

I didn't see any blood or anything, but who knew if this guy had an internal injury or was going through something? My question was pretty straightforward. I didn't ask it with any room for further elaboration, simply asking, are you okay, how can I help? But this guy's body language shifted hard. Like, I had asked something incredibly offensive. His neutral face fell into a scowl as he tensed up. Okay? No, man.

I am not okay. Nothing is okay. I watched him as he bawled up his fist and started to approach me. You were going to walk by without even asking if I needed help. I'm hungry. I haven't eaten anything in two damn days, and I haven't slept in a week. And you think that I'm okay? I had no idea why he was going off on me like this, other than he wasn't all there.

I really didn't see the offense in what I had said to him, but he clearly was not happy with me. By this point, he was stepping toward me and starting to close the gap. I had taken a couple of steps backwards, but my anxiety was causing me to not move very quickly. My heart was pounding and I wanted to run away, but the lizard brain part of the part of it was, me was saying, hey, if you keep cool and talk to him calmly, surely he'll settle down. I started with, hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I think I have ten bucks. I can spare it if you need it. I really don't mind. I put my hands up and motioned toward my hip. I just got this food from the Thai place down the way. They're really good and they're reasonably priced.

I said this as if he and I were going to discuss the finer points of Kau-Soy or something. This just made him even more angry, and he yelled out, I don't want your charity, you a-hole! Now, at this point, I was super confused. He was mad that I wasn't being charitable, but didn't want my charity? Before I could say anything, though, he charged at me at full speed. I turned to run, dropping my beauty. beautiful pad tie as I did so, but he was way too close, and he managed to tackle me to the

ground. I felt my face hit the concrete, and then I started feeling this man's fists pommel me everywhere he could. All I could do was crumple up into the fetal position and hope that he would just take my wallet without killing me. But each punch and kick felt like he was leaning closer and closer to the ladder. Out of nowhere, I hear this thunderous roar of, Hey, get the F off of him!

Which caused the fury of hits to pause. I opened my eyes slightly to see a huge bodybuilding type dude sprinting from across the street from the planet fitness straight into our direction. The crazy dude barely had time to look up before getting absolutely leveled by this guy. He knocked him out cold with a single right hook. This massive guy then helped me to my feet, asking me repeatedly if I was okay, if I needed an ambulance, if I was bleeding, and so forth. I told him that I was pretty sure I was fine, and I thanked him for helping me.

He said that he had seen the whole thing play out from the window at the gym. He had just finished his last set, and was taking a few moments to walk around, kind of cool off, when he noticed this guy starting to attack me. He apologized that he didn't jump in sooner to stop it, but he didn't know the guy was going to lose it on me, and then he mentioned that he should probably check on the crazy effort to make sure he didn't do too much damage. To be completely honest, I was just shell-shocked by the whole situation, and I could barely get any coherent words out. I just stood there for a few minutes, covered in scrapes and a few cuts,

absolutely reeling at how sideways that encounter had gone in what was probably two minutes. How easy it was for me to drop my guard. Naevity at its peak, really. The bodybuilder guy told me to go have a seat in the gym, that they were going to let me in since they knew what was happening, and that he would stay there until the cops showed up, just in case this guy woke up before then. This whole thing was just a crazy event that really has made,

me rethink things. This guy was too far gone for friendly conversation. And while I wouldn't wish that dude's haymaker on anyone, he kind of deserved it. There's really not much else that happened. It was the normal. Cops came, talked to people, got the unconscious guy into an ambulance, and that's about it. My girlfriend and I went to pick up a pair of chairs yesterday from someone on Facebook Marketplace. We live in the Northeast, and it was about an hour away, but a good deal, and we'd enjoy a nice autumn drive.

I know that Facebook Marketplace can be sketchy, but I didn't get any huge red flags from the cellar. Their profile picture was a flower, or something, but I know it's common for older people not to use a picture of themselves for that. I clicked into their profile and saw some photos of what seemed to be. her, a middle-aged Asian lady, with her family. She was also being extremely cordial and nice. Last Wednesday, we agreed to meet Monday at 9 a.m. But on Thursday night, they texted me reminding me about our meetup tomorrow, so Friday. I reminded them that we were meeting on Monday, and they apologized.

Again, I didn't think this was that weird. The listing was for eight chairs, and we were only taking three. too, so I figured that she was coordinating with more than one person. Anyway, we get out there, and I notice once we're close the listing has been taken down on Facebook. This wouldn't be weird if we were buying all the chairs, but we were not. We pull up, and it's this unmarked warehouse on a quiet street. I see one car in the way back of the warehouse, near an open garage entrance. I immediately ask my girlfriend if this seems kind of weird, but she says no.

The person gave us a number to call, so she calls it. The person picks up, and we see a young, thin Chinese woman, clearly did not look like the person from the Facebook profile, come out and wave to us from afar. On the phone, she really quickly says to back up towards the open garage doors and gestures toward us. and then she really quickly disappears back into the garage. I drive over and start backing in towards the garage doors in this little area that is fenced in from the right side.

Very tight space. I stop for a second and look into my rearview mirror. The garage is pitch dark and empty. No signs of anyone. Having not given us instructions other than to back in, I thought the seller must have wanted us to get out and walk back toward the garage with her, which I immediately knew I was not going to do. At this point, my girlfriend independently thought that something was off.

Why did she just disappear? What was this weird, creepy warehouse? Having waited long enough, we pulled out and got out of there. Maybe it was nothing, but it gave us both a... bad feeling. What do you think? Did we overreact? Or was this possibly something nefarious? I have a weird and creepy story that happened in the spring of 2013 to my then-girlfriend, now wife, Jess and I. We'd had a harsh winter here, and it felt like it was unrelenting. We got snow all the way to the end of March, which is not common.

The temps finally leveled out the third week of April, which was perfect because her birthday was that week. So we had both taken the week off. She was getting stir-crazy. She's a nature buff. And she was sick of being pent up in our apartment. So we had planned a little camping trip that week. We didn't have a lot of money, but we had enough to make this trip work, and that was all that mattered. We packed up our camping gear and took a trip to a national forest that was a few hours away from home,

one that we'd actually spent time in before. We found a quiet little campground not too far off the interstate. It was a gorgeous little area that was surrounded by trees that were just starting to butt out. And because the weather had been so stupid, it wasn't busy at all. so there was pretty much zero chance for us to run into anyone else. That night was lovely. The air was crisp and while there was a slight breeze that was making it chilly, we were just happy to spend some time together alone.

We had a few beers, used our little camping grill to make some food, and saw more stars than we ever did back in the city. It was just a perfect night. We were pretty exhausted though. So we decided to finish eating and pass out. And I swear, I fell into the deepest and most restful sleep I'd ever had. That's why I was so confused when Jess shook me awake sometime in the middle of the night. Her face was drained of color and she looked absolutely horrified.

I asked what was up, but she quickly hushed me, saying that she could hear someone or something, walking around outside the tent. I said it was probably an animal, but she said that it sounded too heavy to be something like a raccoon, that it was bigger. I sat there and listened and I didn't hear anything. It was fairly quiet.

I heard the wind. I heard what sounded like rain starting to patter on the tent top, but I didn't hear any steps or anything. We both sat there, her looking terrified, me confused, and after a few minutes, I told her that it was probably gone. She nodded, saying that it was all good, and we laid back down to go back to sleep.

I had trouble falling back asleep, but she passed out pretty much right away. When I woke up the next morning, she was still out, so I got up to get outside and take care of my morning business without waking her up. I opened up the tent door to step out and immediately saw something that bothered me. A bone. The sight of a bone out in the wild wasn't a big deal. But this thing was clean, like completely washed and bleached. That in and of itself was creepy.

But then I actually stepped out and realized it wasn't the only one. There were a couple dozen of these bones. all looking to be parts of animal carcasses, surrounding our tent in a large circle, like someone had taken the time in the night to make this circle. All of them were that same level of clean, like they were collected and washed, and now they were in a circle surrounding the tent that Jess and I were sleeping in. I got back in the tent and woke Jess up, asking her what all she had heard that night. before. She just stared at me like I was crazy and asked what I meant. I said, when you woke me up last night,

you said you heard something walking around. Was it just that or was there more? She once again stared at me and kind of chuckled saying, Matt, I didn't wake you up last night. What are you talking about? I passed out as soon as we got in here. I tried to explain to her that she had woken me up, that she was scared and that she said she heard someone or something walking around our tent. But no matter how much I explained it, she honestly could not remember this happening. She had zero recollection of it at all. She thought she'd slept through the entire night and didn't wake up once. I took her outside the tent and showed her the creepy bone circle that was surrounding our camp spot and she flipped.

She said that she wanted to leave because this looked like some weird forest curse stuff, and I kind of agreed with her. This was weird, and her not remembering waking up was a bit too much for me. So we packed up our stuff and decided we would just cut it down to one night. Nothing wrong with having a staycation, right? We left the bones where they were, and we went and talked with the rangers for the area. They said they would go do a check. We told them that we left it exactly how we found it

and that we were going to not stay the rest of the time. Did it sound paranoid? Sure, but it was creepy as hell to find bones around your tent like that. We drove back toward town and decided to spend a couple nights in a hotel 20 miles outside the city limits. Like camping, but in the comforts of a controlled environment, and with the TV that had cable.

Okay, so it was nothing like camping, but after we'd experience, that was for the best. We actually haven't gone camping since this happened, mostly because I think we both have this weird irrational fear that if we go back into the woods, whatever left those bones like that will find us. I guess it could have been a prank, but it felt malicious. Plus, who has the time to clean 20?

odd animal bones and large ones at that for the sake of pranking someone camping in the woods like that. Either way, that's what happened, and maybe someday we'll go again, but until we can get past the creepiness that happened that night, we're going to stick with camping at the local holiday inn. It was my first year at college, and I was going to be experiencing dorm room living. I was pretty well excited about the idea of having my own place, but I'm still having just enough social interaction to pull me out of my shell. I wanted to be a teacher, but the idea of being around a lot of people, or even having everyone staring at me, you know, what you would expect while being a teacher, it gave me anxiety. So I was hopeful that I could break that. It started out great. I had a

roommate, a girl named Sarah, and I feel like I really lucked out with her. She was nice and thoughtful. She never got loud and didn't have any unexpected guests over. She invited someone over that was working with her on a project. She asked me if it was okay if her boyfriend came over, which I appreciated. We always warned each other when we were going to be cooking something. We even had a microwave in a small toaster oven, and she even respected that I was allergic to apples. She loved them, but if she had one, she would stay away from me

and take her trash directly to the bin outside. Like I said, probably the best roomy that I'd had my time there. The story's not about the dorm mates, though. This happened on a Saturday night. Well, more like evening. It was around 4 p.m. or so. Sarah said that she was going to stay with her boyfriend that night, so I was going to have the place to myself.

I liked to paint in the little free time that I had, so I was working on a picture I had started a few weeks earlier when there was a knock at the door. I wasn't expecting anyone, but I assumed it was just one of my friends stopping by, or maybe Sarah was returning for something and forgot her keys. She actually often left her keys in the dorm because I was either typically home to open the door for her or she was admittedly ditsy and just forgot them. So I got up and opened the door without hesitation. However, instead of a familiar face, I was greeted by a man that I had never seen before. He introduced himself as Zachary and said that he was a maintenance worker, claiming that he needed to check something in my room due to a leak, pointing upstairs.

He was wearing a dark blue jumpsuit, and he had a name tag that said Zachary on it. So it made sense. Not having any reason to not believe him, I let him in without a second thought. I shut the door and continued to stand by the door as I watched him roam around the room. He took something that looked like a high-tech laser pointer and aimed it at the window, in the room. He would then pull out a piece of paper and a pen and scratch something off. It didn't seem very professional.

A crumpled piece of paper and a pen, but I digress. He starts in on some small talk, probably just trying to make the situation less awkward, which I appreciated at first. He asked me what I was majoring in, and I told him. He asked me some other innocent questions, like if I was from Tennessee or if I came here for school, how I was liking it, just things like that.

It was working, at first. He used a flashlight in crevices, door frames, not even looking at me, and I just rambled on, trying to be nice, too. But then his question started shifting and making me uncomfortable. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I said no. Then he said with a chuckle to his. his voice.

So no late night sneaking out to let loose in the boy's dorms? I didn't know how to respond. Like I said, I was kind of shy, and it was difficult to hear my friend talk about her love life. And this random stranger wanted to know about mine? I just let out a nervous laugh and said no. He then turned to face me and asked if I at least partied, saying it was one of the best moments of college life.

Doing things you won't remember, you can't regret it. I again replied no, and that I didn't like parties. He put his flashlight back into his pocket and continued to look over the room, like a kid does when they go to a new store. He didn't look like he was examining anything, more like scoping the place out. I was getting pretty nervous about all of this and was ready for him to leave, so I asked him again,

so what exactly are you looking for? He didn't answer me. He just slowly walked closer to me and said, You know, you're a pretty girl. I bet you get a lot of attention from the guys. I refused to make eye contact with him and was just hoping that he would leave already or that someone else would show up.

Something. Anything to get him out of my room. I was now terrified. Was he really with maintenance? And if so, why was he saying things like this to me? Why wasn't he worried about me complaining about him? That was the question that really made me think that he wasn't being honest. Why would he risk his job doing this?

I swallowed hard and asked him if he was done because I needed to go meet up with some friends that were expecting me, hoping that if he knew that I was expected somewhere, he wouldn't do anything else. He just made like a clicking sound with his mouth, so I looked up to see him smiling. He made sure to get as close as possible, purposefully brushing his arm against my chest,

even with my arms crossed and said, Of course you do. He walked out the door, winked at me and said, I'll see you around, Michaela, and then walked down the hall. I watched as he looked around the hall, like he was studying the doors, and then walked out the front door.

I kept the door locked, and if anyone showed up after that day, I checked the peephole before opening the door. I was worried that guy might show up again, and I wasn't feeling comfortable enough being alone, so I asked one of my friends to come hang out with me for the night. She wasn't doing anything, so she came over, and we decided to watch a movie.

When she got there, I explained what had happened. I told her on the phone that I wasn't comfortable being alone and explained the creepy maintenance guy that showed up. She looked at me, funny. I don't think maintenance works on weekends unless there's an emergency. That didn't even cross my mind. He didn't even really go into details on what the issue was. Hell, he didn't even specify what the leak was for. Water, gas, a draft maybe?

I just assumed it was water. He looked at the windows and in the corner of the walls and door frames, like where cracks could be, I guess. So what was he looking for? My friend told me that I should report it to security, or at least an RA so they could confirm the validity of the man, and I agreed. I called them the next day, and to my horror, he confirmed they only do maintenance orders on the weekend in emergencies, and they had no orders the day before. So I reported it to them and gave them a description of the man. They also checked with their maintenance people and none of them were named Zachary. So I literally just let some random guy into our dorm room,

let him look at our stuff and be a creep towards me. I felt so stupid and freaked out. What were his intentions? The RA told me to keep the doors locked and that if someone claims to be maintenance or facilities, that I could call it any time to confirm if they had someone coming. They also told me to ask for their ID, as they should all have one on them. I told Sarah what all happened when she came back on Sunday,

so she knew what to do if he came back when she was home instead. Several weeks went by, but I never saw the guy again, nor did Sarah. I was thankful, but every time there was a knock at our door, it put me on edge. However, while we didn't see him again, he apparently tried to do it again to a different room, but he screwed up. They actually did have maintenance come in shortly before that guy showed up, and the girl questioned him about it and refused to let him in. He then tried to force his way in, so she started getting really loud to make a scene, and it worked.

He finally backed away and took off. Security caught him in the car. courtyard and brought him in until the police arrived. I was then asked to confirm if it was the same guy, which it was, and Sarah said that she knew the girl that questioned him, so she got to hear the other side of it, too. We learned that the guy used to go to the school, but that he did some other similar and questionable things, so he ended up getting expelled. This time he was charged with trespassing, and we haven't seen him since. His picture, was actually hanging up in multiple places,

asking people to speak up if he has seen. I guess the charges finally made him realize that he wasn't welcome there. I just hope that he didn't try anything like this somewhere else. I've put off writing this story for a very long time. But after going through therapy and trying to get past everything that happened, I think it's best to put this out into the world. I need to begin this story with a trigger warning, I guess, as it was very traumatic for me, and for others it may be too much.

I apologize in advance and I will try to not make this too graphic, but I feel there are details that I need to put into words to properly get them out of my head. This happened in the spring whenever I was 16 years old. It was early April, I believe. My parents had gone out for the night because my mom's work had an office party for Easter. I didn't want to go, and I was old enough to mostly take care of myself for the few hours while they were gone. We lived in a pretty unassuming neighborhood here in Minnesota, one where you would never expect anything to go wrong, really. The afternoon slash evenings started off as anyone would expect.

I got home and my dad was already home, and he told me about the office party they were going to. I mentioned wanting to stay home, and he said that that was fine. My mom got home, and they dressed for the get-together. I made some pizza rolls for myself for dinner, because that's what I wanted. Come around 5.30, they told me to be good. That they would be home around 10.30 or so. That was that. After they left, I watched some TV and went upstairs to do my homework

and called a friend of mine to ask him some questions about the assignment. Everything went perfectly normal. Until around 7 p.m. or so, when I heard a thud from downstairs. Being a dumb kid, I didn't think much of it at first. I figured it was something falling off the pantry shelf in the kitchen or something. But then I heard the thud again, and then again. And then I heard the unmistakable sound of a door swinging open and slamming into the wall. It took me a second or two to understand what,

had just happened, but it quickly clicked that someone had kicked the door downstairs open. My heart immediately dropped to my stomach, as it said in that someone had just broken into my house. I grabbed the home phone off of my desk, but when I hit the button, there was no dial tone. I hit it a few more times, just thinking that something was wrong with the phone itself. I now know that it wasn't working because the guy that had broke in had cut the outside line. It was in a box that was on the side of the house and was easily accessible, and he had taken a knife to it. This is when the panic really set in, because I didn't know what to do. I couldn't call 911, I couldn't call my parents, and I was upstairs away from pretty much every exit.

I immediately thought about where I would be safest, and my brain told me that my parents' room had a lock on the door, and that that would be the best place to go. I slowly opened my door and then ran across the hall to their room, shutting and locking the door. I just stood there on the other side of the door for a moment, trying to breathe as quietly as I could, thinking that this would all be over soon. Until I heard the man's footsteps coming up the stairs.

I heard him open the door down the hall, the bathroom, my room, the closet, until he got to the door of my parents' room. He grabbed the handle and turned it, but the lock held it in place. I then heard him shout down the stairs. Hey, this one's locked, and then heard a voice respond. You said they weren't home. Is there someone in there?

I guess that this was an epiphany for him, because he jiggled the handle harder and said, Hey, if there's someone in there, you need to come out, and we won't hurt you. Yeah, because I was going to believe a man that had kicked in our front door. I just stood there panicking, thinking that he was going to break in and kill me, that I was going to die. This is the point where I looked around for anything to protect me, and I saw my dad's gun. It was a standard Remington Model 7, one that I had actually fired before. While we had never actually gone hunting, my dad had taken me shooting before.

and he taught me how to use it. He wasn't a gun enthusiast or anything, but he wanted to teach me how to handle a firearm, training, which I now have to say probably saved my life. I grabbed the rifle and steadied myself, and then yelled, I have a gun, and I will shoot if you come through that door, in the most threatening way that a 16-year-old could. I was hoping that just hearing this would make him stop,

that he would hear the word gun and leave. But it didn't work. I heard him kick the door once, trying to break it in, and then a second time. And at that point, I knew what was about to happen. I hit the safety and took a deep breath. I could feel my eyes starting to fill with tears because I really did not want to be in this situation.

I yelled again, Stop, I will shoot you. I could feel my eyes. I saw myself trembling as he kicked the door a third time the lock gave out. The next few moments felt like slow motion. The door swung open. I saw the silhouette of the man on the other side being lit by the hallway light, and as soon as I saw him, I pulled the trigger.

I didn't want this to be what happened, but there was nothing more I could do to get out of this situation. I had to defend myself. I've been told that a million times by a dozen different people, but I will never forget that moment. My aim and his stance in the door was, apparently, the perfect match-up. I shot this man in the neck, slightly left of center in the throat. I won't say that my intent was to kill him, but when you're aiming at a target that you really can't see, you aim as best as you can and pull the trigger when you're.

have the shot. I could see this man reach for his neck and immediately slump down lifeless. Like I mentioned, I won't go into too much detail, but with the amount of blood and damage that the rifle did to him, there was literally no way that he would have survived. The sound he made when he fell was enough to make me want to vomit. I saw the color drain from him and his eyes go lifeless. This is an image that I have never been able to get out of my head, because it's a constant reminder that I had ended a life, a life as dynamic and real as mine. This person had a childhood, probably had friends out there that were expecting to see him

again someday. For some reason, one thought that flashed into my mind that wouldn't leave was that he probably had a night just like this when he was a kid. He'd probably been left home at night while his parents went out, and, so he'd probably been left home at night while his parents went out and ate junk food and did his homework. And now he was dead, lying in my hallway. I had done that to him. Yes, he had broken in.

He'd been trying to get to me to do God knows what, but I was the one that pulled the trigger. I literally fell against the wall behind me and started crying, and I fell into that sitting position. It didn't even click at the time that there were two guys. The other guy apparently took off when he heard the gun shot, though, so thankfully he wasn't a factor in this equation anymore. I just gripped the gun as hard as I could, and I sat there staring at that man's lifeless body for... I don't even know how long. It felt like an eternity before I heard the police sirens, before I realized that there was an officer standing over me asking me to put the gun on the floor.

The rest is, to be honest, a blur. I think that my brain cut a lot of it out. I remember both of my parents holding me, crying, telling me it was going to be okay. I remember officers talking to me, asking me what happened, and just mindlessly relaying the events that led up to me pulling the trigger, telling them I did not want to shoot him, that I told him I had a gun, but he just kept trying, to break in.

I was obviously cleared. He'd forcibly broken into our home, and that was evident that he kicked the door into my parents' room as well, which indicated he had intent to do harm. So, while I wasn't criminally liable for the whole thing, it messed me up mentally. Those few moments have haunted me ever since.

I'm in my 40s now, and I have managed to live my life, but there are moments where it all still, still feels real and new. Therapy helped a lot. But after this many years, I felt that telling my story would do more for me to let it all go. It's been a very long time, and I need to be able to move on

and understand that this was not my fault. I took the actions, but he put himself in that position. He had a chance to leave when I shouted I had a gun. Him and his buddy could have just not broken into our house. He had all the opportunity to not end up where he was, but he chose that fate. I am very sorry that I ended his life, but I'm not sorry that I defended myself, and in the end, that has to be enough.

Hey there, this was something that happened to me back when I was a kid, but I'm so friends with the other person involved with this, so it stays fresh in my mind. When I was about 12 or 13, I went to my friend Katie's house for a sleepover. It was in late April. I know this because it was shortly after my birthday, which is on the 23rd,

and I had brought my new makeup kit I got for my birthday. I had been friends with Katie for a while at this point, but I had never stayed overnight, so everything was a new experience. If you ever stayed at a friend, house as a kid for the first time, you'll understand the feeling I'm talking about. But we had a lot of fun. We were riding bikes out front in the driveway and the sidewalk in front of the house. As we rode around, I noticed there was an older lady in the yard across the

street. She had been pacing around the yard, and every once in a while, I could hear her talking but couldn't make out what she said. She was carrying a couple of sticks, like she was cleaning up her yard, but I never saw her put them somewhere or grab more. She was carrying the same sticks around the whole time. At one point, we both stopped writing and went to get something to drink,

so I asked about the lady. Katie shrugged, saying she didn't know much about her, but she thought she was just old and mean. She mentioned how she rode her bike on the sidewalk on the other side once, and how she just started yelling at her to go back to the other side of the road, so she just avoided her whenever she could. I took it as just that too, a mean old lady and avoided eye contact. Later that night, Katie and I were hanging out in her room with her older sister.

She was about 16, I believe. Something came up that made me mention the weird news. neighbor, so her sister decided to tell us about some rumors she supposedly heard. She told us about how one day she just went crazy and killed her husband, but she made it look like an accident, so she got away with it. Now, that house is haunted by her husband, which is why she was hardly in the house and walked around looking angry and crazy. It was one of those campfire scary stories, and little me was like no way that happened, trying to act cool. But part of me thought it made sense. She was always outside, doing pretty much nothing. She looked crazy. She never wanted anyone to come near the house.

What if it was real? But we continued with our night, moving past the scary story. Later that night, we were both on the bed sleeping, and I woke up for no apparent reason. It was one of those times where you wake up to roll over and just can't fall back asleep. I was now facing towards the room and looking at the window that was cracked open. It was already pretty warm, so we left it open, hoping the breeze that day would help cool down the room. As I stared out the window, I noticed something that wasn't making sense in my head. There was a streetlight down the way that lit up part of the road, and the big oak tree in their yard.

And I would think part of their yard as well, but there seemed to be a dark shadow near the window that was blocking the light. I'm going to remind you that I was still pretty young in this story, so my thought process wasn't the same as it is now as an adult. Not to mention, I was half awake. Anyways, I was trying to figure out why the light seemed to cut so abruptly, but only from the comfort of the bed.

I stared at it for quite some time, squinting, turning my head, trying to focus on the shadow in order to figure out where it was coming from. I wore glasses, so I assumed part of the reason was because I couldn't see very well. So finally, I went to reach for my glasses,

hoping that would help me focus a bit. When out of nowhere I heard, go back to bed. It was a higher-pitched, raspy sounding voice, and it honestly made me jump and let out a yelp. Between my reaction and I'm sure the disembodied voice, it woke Katie up and she looked at me confused. I didn't know what to say,

but she asked me if someone was at the window. It wasn't long before her parents came into the room and turned on the light, asking what was wrong. We both explained what happened. Her dad left the room and her mom went to the window to check. We both got up to follow her mom and looked out the window. We could see someone walking away from the house, but I at least couldn't tell who it was.

We then followed her mom to the front room and listened as her dad mentioned it was the lady across the street. She was angrily mumbling something but never stopped. She didn't run away, just slowly walk back across the street. They told us we were okay and if we wanted, we could camp out in the living room. My heart was still racing and I could tell Katie was still a bit scared and confused, so we agreed. We got to put on a movie and fell back asleep. The next day was normal.

We got up, Katie asked me what happened, and I explained it all again. Then, when her parents got up, we explained what we saw and heard. They both agreed it was weird, but her parents said she was harmless, just not all there mentally and kind of dropped it. They also denied the stories Katie's sister told us and said they would have a talk with her about it. Oops. The next time I went to Katie's place, she had thick curtains on her windows, and she wasn't

allowed to have the window open at night. It had to remain locked. She said they never learned why she did it, but it appears to not have happened again, or at least no one ever noticed. As a kid, that was pretty terrifying to me, and not knowing why she was just watching us sleep, just compounded to the bizarre situation. I was just thankful my room at home was on the second floor.

No crazy old ladies watching me from home. This happened a few years ago, so forgive me if some of the details are fuzzy. It was a nice summer evening and I was walking downtown to meet a friend for a drink on a patio. A couple blocks from the bar, a man approached me asking for a cigarette. I don't smoke and said sorry for not having one, and then he commented on my tattoos. I have two sleeves, both horror-themed, so I'm pretty well covered in skulls and creepy stuff. I mentioned that I was a horror fan and he warned me that markings like that could be a gateway to evil. Okay, noted. Then he asked me if I was familiar with the movie The Omen. I said yes,

and he said that he was involved with the movie. Now, I'm assuming he's going to tell me that he was an extra or worked on the set. No, he tells me that he is the man who inspired Damien. that he was the son of Satan. He then told me a fascinatingly spun story about how the crossroads of the street he was born on, his house number and home city, were all symbols and signs that foretold a prophecy of his origin. Now, of course, he was just waiting to be called upon.

The patio I was going to was nicknamed the Dragon's Den, so this was a further sign for him. I ran into him one other time, walking home. Clearly he had a mental illness, and this had never made me uncomfortable. So I spoke with him again. On this day,

he was explaining how certain letters on street signs were markers of whether or not they were evil. E was bad. Mark or Mac was demonic, etc. He also told me that the soul of aborted children were trapped in the earth and haunted it. This isn't scary per se, but I do,

still think about him from time to time. What a fascinating, freaky world to live in. This was something that happened to me about a decade ago. I was going to college and living in a dorm room, which was part of a scholarship that I got. I was very lucky to have gotten the scholarship, so I was looking forward to such a great opportunity. Not to mention I would be the first one in my family to go to college. But I was also very nervous. It was in a different state than my home, so I didn't know a single soul there. But I was determined to not let it get in the way and to do my best. When I arrived, I had a roommate, but it was only for the first month or so. She moved out after that, giving me the place to myself, with no immediate roommate moving in. It was pretty nice.

While my roommate was nice and spoke to me, she was very adamant on what was hers and her space versus my own. So, once she was gone, I had a lot more room and I didn't have to worry about my desk being too far over on her side or something. My room was pretty quiet, just the occasional music or movie playing in the background. The college that I attended has day and evening classes, as well as other air. extracurricular activities, so you could hear the other girls coming and going down the halls quite frequently. Sometimes it was just walking, or a door closing. Other times, you might hear them yelling at each other, be it playful or arguing.

Fights definitely happened too, but they were usually over before anyone could call for security. I bring this up to explain that, unless you were whispering in the halls, Everyone could hear you in the rooms. The walls were super thin. On the night of this event, I was in my room watching some movies on my laptop, as I worked on some homework. It was late, maybe ten or eleven, and I could feel myself starting to nod off. I contemplated just finishing it in the morning and just falling asleep when, out of nowhere, I heard a woman screaming.

This wasn't just a friendly, startled scream that I often heard in the hallways. This was a blood-curdling, grab your phone and dial 911 kind of scream. I jumped right out of my chair, nearly falling over trying to stand. I stood frozen in place for a second, trying to grasp if what I heard was real. I was watching a comedy, not some horror flicks, so I knew it wasn't from the movie. I ran to my door and looked out the people first to see if I could see anything, but nothing was there. I slowly opened the door and peeked my head out to look around. I wasn't willing to just run out in case someone was out there and saw me,

giving them a face and possibly a reason to come after me too. But again, I saw nothing. I saw the center stairs, the cardboard cut out that's been sitting by them since I got there and nothing else. Maybe the scream came from the floor above. The dorms had two floors. I was afraid to walk up there, but was also worried that someone was in danger.

Who knew what could be happening? I hesitated for a moment, debating my options. Should I try to find the source and head upstairs, risking my own safety? Or should I just go back to my room and call for help? In the end, I opted for the latter, going back to my room and calling 911. I explained to them what I had heard, and the operator informed me that they would send someone out to look around, and asked for my address so they could speak to me with any additional questions.

The cops arrived shortly after, and they knocked on my door. They asked me to go through what happened again, and then they left, saying they would look around. I went back inside, anxiously awaiting for them to come back and telling me that they found something, but then I heard knocking on the other doors and people talking. I opened my door to see two cops and campus security talking to girls in two other dorms. This, of course, got others' attention, and slowly you could see just about everyone else opening their door, curious as to what was going on. I was kind of nervous.

maybe embarrassed that all this was happening because of something I did, but I knew it was the right thing to do. But I could have gotten past that if they did end up finding something, but here's the thing. They didn't find anything. In fact, no one else said they heard anything either. The cops came back to my room and said that they didn't find anyone hurt or in danger. nor did they see any signs of something happening. They said they also asked around and that no one else said they had heard a thing, but how was that possible? They asked me to go over what happened again, and I explained down to a T, my steps.

I think I even narrowed down what question I was on on my homework when it happened. They said that they would make a report with campus security and follow up with them if something does come up, But otherwise told me to call again if it happens, or if I see something, and left. I was baffled. There was no way that no one else heard that scream. It's not like the place was riddled with crime, and that no one spoke up out of fear of something either. I considered maybe it was a prank, but then again, that would mean that everyone else had to be in on it because they all denied it. and I found that hard to believe.

I wasn't picked on or messed with in any ways, so why would I have been singled out? The next day, an R.A. came and talked to me about the incident, and I once again explained it to her. She personally said she spoke with multiple people that denied hearing anything, but that she also believed me. She said that she knew I wasn't the type to make prank calls like that, but we had no proof. I was conflicted at that point. No one else claimed to have heard anything, and there were no signs of foul play, which was great. There were also no missing persons reported.

Everyone was accounted for. So what did I hear? I made a few friends while attending that college, and they all believed me, but also told me themselves that they didn't hear anything. And now, many years later, there are no answers to what I heard. No one went missing, no bodies found.

Not even anyone going to the hospital after being attacked, so I'm still at a loss. I want to believe that I imagined it, but it was just too real for me to brush it off myself. I just hope that whoever it came from, I hope that they are okay. When I was in middle school, my mom and I went shopping for back-to-school clothes at a popular discount department store. It may be important to note that this was a new location for us, as it was in a nearby town that we never really went to. However, this town had somewhat of a reputation for trafficking, in the kidnappings of young girls, especially compared to the rest of the region. My mom was looking at stuff in a section that I found boring, so I wandered off to explore what else the store had. I ended up in the baseball hat section.

This happened around 2012 and 2013, so snapbacks were hugely in style, and all of the cool kids had one. I picked up a black snapback, crouching down to look at the rest of the hats on the bottom of the display. For some reason, I had this very weird sense of imminent danger that I've never felt before, and haven't really experienced since. call them spider senses or what have you, but I could sense something nearby that posed a threat to me. I genuinely can't explain it, and I didn't really understand why at the time,

but something compelled me to stand up and turn and walk away immediately. I swear a voice in my head said, stand up. In the process of doing so, I registered that two men were standing very close to me, about three to four feet away. As I stood up, one of them was already in the process of stepping towards me, and both of them had this very creepy smirk on their faces. I guess that I had surprised them with my sudden movement,

as they both kind of jumped back as I turned away. Maybe it's just my general distrust of the world, but I genuinely believed that if I hadn't stood up when I did, I could have easily been grabbed from this store, especially because I was nowhere near my mom. My grandmother always told me stories of her guardian angel, and though I'm not really religious at all, I swear the voice in my head that told me I needed to leave,

it was some higher force watching over me. If nothing else, I hope this teaches young people to be on high alert at all times, especially in new places. You can never be too safe. Hey there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed this collection of scary stories on this episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast.

If you did, make sure that you follow the podcast on whatever platform that you're utilizing. And if the platform you are on has a rate the podcast option, please consider doing so. Those ratings push the podcast into the algorithm, and we all know how the algorithm controls everything, so yeah. I also do have a Patreon. If you go to patreon.com slash as the Raven Dreams,

you can support the channel further. For as little as a dollar a month, you can get early access to all of my content in audio format. The content's a little different, as it's based on what I upload to my YouTube side, but it's the same stories. just in different collections of stories than how they're presented here. Speaking of stories, if you have one you would like to submit to me, please go to as-the-ravendreams.com and click the button in the middle of the screen that says submit your story.

These stories are mostly sourced by listeners, so let's keep the podcast alive. If you've got one, I'd love to read it. Anyways, friends, I hope you're all having a beautiful day and a lovely week. and I hope I see you again very soon. But until then, remember you're loved, you're valid, you're important. You're the best you can be, never forget it. And until next time, much love and sleep well.