As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 136 - Creepy Neighbor, Summer & Stories From Listeners

Episode Date: August 16, 2024

Today, on the 136th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 22 True Chilling stories. These stories come from the shadowy corners of reality, where everyday life takes an eerie twist & ordinary people experience the extraordinary. Today we will be diving into Creepy Neighbor Stories, Scary Summer Stories and other true scary stories from listeners. 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... Beth T., Hannahx2000, Carla Base, Peter Høpfner, A.B, OneAutnmLeaf. journieluvvv. Tbone528. Excellent_Cut7573, Marie, Boredpanda6335, Neon Bard, SillyByDesign, Clayton, Patrica Albone, AliceSh, Miss Shakeitup, 3D0D, Toasty Hood,Steven Seven 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

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. If you have a true scary story you'd like to share with the podcast, go to as the ravendreams.com and click the button to send it my way. Also, if the platform you're on has the option to rate the podcast or leave a comment,

please consider doing so. And as always, thank you. I used to work at a gas station in the middle of my town, and it's not relevance to the story, but I hated that job so much. It didn't pay worth a damn. The hours sucked. Management was awful, and people were beyond disrespectful to you when they were there. But hey, that's retail, right?

It was even worse two years ago, because around August, we were under a round of really bad heat wave and getting pulted with 100 plus degree weather. On top of that, the AC at the station was struggling and would just sometimes not work. The hotter the day, the more likely it would stop working, and the station would get swelteringly hot. Thankfully, on those days, people wouldn't really come in, so I could just sit there behind the counter with a fan blowing on me, or stand in one of the soda coolers. I would have to keep an eye out for customers when I did that, but I really didn't care. It made it at least somewhat bearable.

During this one afternoon, I was behind the counter, and I think I was pulling some product from a box to stock it. When I saw someone come in, I looked up to see an old man walk around. He had a full beard, was bald, and just kind of reminded me of a stereotypical old man. I was a bit confused though, since he was wearing a windbreaker jacket, and with how hot it was he had to be dying in that thing. One point of note, I saw him out of the corner of my eyes, so I didn't technically see him walk in the store, but I saw him inside the store, which was a bit weird because I didn't recall the door chime going off. I said, Hey, let me know if you need any help with anything. just trying to be nice and then got back to my work. I looked up every once in a while to see if this guy needed help or if he was ready to check out.

Every time I looked up, he was in a different spot in the store, but each time he would be looking over at me. Of course, this puts me in an awkward headspace. Either he's just a nice dude that wants to talk to me, or he's going to be a creepy old man. I was hoping he was just lonely and wanted to talk, some old people tend to be, because dealing with creepy old men was always a pain in the backside.

Then I heard him shout out. It's a hot day out today, huh? I didn't look up. I could tell he wasn't at the counter, and I just said, yeah, it makes it even worse when the AC doesn't work. And he responds, yeah, I can imagine.

He goes back to silence, just looking around the station, and I continue pulling stuff out of a box. Then I hear him speak to me again. Out of nowhere, I hear this guy say, I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, Alice. I immediately stopped and looked up when I heard him say this, mostly because I didn't know how he knew my name.

My name is Alice, but I didn't wear a name tag, and I never told customers my name. I had never seen this guy before, so him saying he was sorry that he wasn't there. there when I needed him was beyond confusing. So I looked up to ask him what he meant and who the hell he was, but much to my surprise, he wasn't there. He wasn't just not at the counter, he was completely gone from the store.

The door hadn't opened, the chime didn't go off. There was no way he could have hidden behind a shelf, and he couldn't have gone into the back without me seeing him, and there was nowhere else for him to really go. I just stared out into the end. empty station waiting for him to jump out of somewhere and say, Gotcha! Or something like that.

But that never happened. Eventually my trance was broken by the door chime going off, and my co-worker coming in for his shift, complaining loudly about how hot it was in there. I asked if he saw an old man in the parking lot, and he said no, that it was dead out there. I just kind of nodded and said, Okay, and decided that I had just encountered. some kind of weird spirit that knew who I was, and moved on with my afternoon.

It was truly bizarre, and I have no idea what that whole event was, what he wanted, why he said what he said, but it was what it was. I don't work there anymore, and I never had another experience like that, and by the time I quit,

the AC still wasn't working right. Hi, I'm new to posting. as long as I have loved scary movies and stuff, I never expected anything to happen to me. I, 17, female, recently started dating my boyfriend, 19 male, like five months ago. But we've been talking for about a year. We're so attached to each other and have such a healthy relationship.

The scary part is, the relationship is fine. It's what me and him have heard and seen, which scares me even more because he was there to be as spooked as I was. He's told me that he has suspected his house has spirits. He has cats, and he has a dog who passed a long time ago. And when we stay at his house, it was never more than just a door opening on its own, and the spirit never felt negative. Just you could tell that you weren't alone.

My boyfriend isn't a solid believer until stuff happens to him, and when I tried to talk to him about any of the scary stuff, he would just tear up a bit and dismiss the topic. He also has a dad with a bunch of money, so he owns and rents a couple of houses, or whatever. My boyfriend's dad is renting a house in Gettysburg, very known for its hauntings and deep history, and he had spoken about his family seeing things at this house,

and having seen shadows, things lift on their own, which was unexplained, and his mom and brothers started to believe in paranormal activity because of how intense that energy is. My boyfriend brought me to the house once. Well, we drove past it some time ago in the relationship. Because he told me about how you will never feel alone. When we drove past, we live a little bit away. We just drove past a big house, a shed, and a cornfield.

They said they see things, but they don't think that the entity is. is technically evil, but you can tell that they have seen some stuff. His dad is an electrical engineer who even said that he gets freaking spooked out, and never feels alone. He's maybe seen some stuff and heard things, and they're just so passionate about it. I did get the creeps while driving and getting close to that area. I trust my guts, and passing that house at area, we did not feel good. I remember looking at my boyfriend and he looked pale.

I don't know if he saw something or was just as scared as me, especially knowing his history with this. But the scariest stuff happens at my house. I honestly don't know if I could have attracted or brought something towards me. There have been three solid events at my house, and they're all creepy as hell. Like I said, my boyfriend avoids talking about it because he gets too creeped out, because we have no explanation for these events.

Event one, hearing knocking and going to check. We were watching Hulu, and my boyfriend and I heard distinct knocking. It was scary because, at this time, I was telling him that I was seeing doors opening at his house, but now at mine this crap happens. and what scares me the most is how unhuman the knocks sounded. He got up and was like, do you want me to check on that? We were so creeped out. I was especially because after three lifeless knocks we heard on my door,

there was nobody else awake, and me showing him that really messed him up. The second and third event were my bong breaking, but from nothing. Me and my boyfriend do smoke. We are just kids, but what I never would have expected to see is my bong literally break twice with zero contact at all. The first time we were just playing video games,

and we saw the part of my bowl literally break. It was like pure glass. I've never had issues with it up until now, and even then it happened so close together. The second time actually scared my boyfriend the most because he saw firsthand what I had been afraid of. My stuffed animal Lily is my baby, childhood toy, and my boyfriend loves her. So when she was falling off my bed, he went to catch her, and when I looked over, I heard and saw the glass snap in half.

While my bear was in his hand, far from the bong. We were stuck in awe. The two breaking incidents were like a week, between each other because we go between my house and his he looked really scared I freaked out knowing that nothing had made any contact with it for it to break and we witnessed that and inspected the area multiple times for what could have done it I'm just creeped out I'm going to update so do feel free to ask questions I am very spiritual and I do believe in God and spirits my boyfriend too and sorry that I'm messy

with this, I've never had real experiences like this, so I'm trying to have all the details. Before I met and moved in with my now girlfriend, I had quite the experience and bad luck with some previous homes. The story in particular is from an apartment I lived in. Each building on the property had three floors with four apartments on each floor, as well as a laundry room on each floor. We had shared washers and dryers. My apartment was on the second floor and was at the end of the hallway. The complex itself wasn't bad. Unfortunately, it seemed my place was below the couple that seemed to only scream at each other to communicate, but it never seemed to escalate. Someone else liked to cook a lot, as it usually smelled heavenly coming home, but sometimes they used way

too much onion. But the real problem I had with this place, the problem that also caused me to move, was one of the people that lived on the same floor as me, but at the front of the building. I'll refer to him as Todd. When I moved in, I had my brother and a few friends help me with the big items. I'm a very small woman, so there was no way that I could carry in my couch, bed, and dresser by myself. There were a few times while we were moving back and forth that Todd had stepped out of his door and would nod at us, or step out of the way when they carried something heavy. But otherwise, he didn't talk to any of us, at least not at those times. But on one of the last days of moving, it was just me, getting those last odds and ends that I could easily toss into my car.

As I carried an open box of cleaner under my arm and a trash bag of random items with the other hand, Todd came out of his room and immediately went to grab the box from me, offering to help. I'm pretty bad with meeting new people, or small talk, so I just smiled and said thanks. As we walked down the hall, I was silent, and he introduced himself. After I unlocked my door, I set the bag down again,

and took the box from him. With the box in my hands again, I told him my name and thanked him, and he again tried to talk to me. Just moving in, huh? He said, obviously trying to come up with something. He seemed about as bad as myself at starting conversations. I kind of chuckled and said yes, and he pointed out to his apartment and said if I needed help with moving anything else

or putting something together to just let him know. I thanked him, and I shut the door as he walked away. The rest of that first week was uneventful, really. I unpacked and settled in, and really just kept him myself as I organized my new place. The only other common factor in those days was seeing Todd when I left or came home. He would just be leaving or coming home too, sometimes taking out his garbage. He would always greet me and try to make small talk, but that was about. it. But as time went on, seeing him like that became more and more frequent, and patterned even.

And to be honest, it was kind of disruptive. Between my job and trying to complete my degree, I didn't have a lot of free time. Sometimes I had half an hour to get home from work, change, and then get to class. But even on those days that I appeared to be in a rush, Todd wanted to have these long conversations. I know I just sound like a jerk, but I really don't care. When someone is obviously rushing to their door and you see them leave just as fast, and it's always on the same day every week, maybe you can put things together that they're busy, maybe, but not Todd.

Todd would follow me to my door telling me about something that happened to him that day, and I would wait for him to finish the story before I went into my apartment. What else was I supposed to do? Shut the door in his face? There was one time where he wanted to show me something in his apartment, and I told him that I didn't have time on Wednesdays. And he understood, so I guess being straightforward with him worked there. Todd stopped trying to have such long conversations on Wednesdays,

and instead, resorted to always opening the door to the complex when I came home from work. He would always be by the door, for whatever reason, and would hold it open for me. Then he would wish me a good evening. To be there every week was a bit odd, in my opinion. Think about it. Your neighbor you barely knew would meet you every week at the entrance of the building. But at the time, I just maybe thought that was Todd and who he was. Maybe he was like the neighborhood watch, or I guess complex watch.

Which, who knows? But then I began to notice how every time I had free time, Todd was around. When I went out for my walks, he would be leaving too. When I went to the grocery store, he would be at his door asking if I wanted this or that, and claiming he bought too many bananas or loaves of bread and didn't want it to go to waste. I couldn't even sit at the Starbucks I liked to go to every Friday in peace because he would always end up there and would always act surprised to see me and try to talk to me. Like I said, I know that I sound like an a-hole here and admit that.

I was okay with just having a conversation here and there. I could even understand that maybe he was just lonely and wanted some company. We were probably the closest in age compared to everyone else I had seen in our complex, so I did feel bad, but Todd was starting to become a normal part of my daily life. And to me, that felt weird. I still barely knew him, and he sat by me as we drank coffee like we were longtime friends. But once I started talking about it out loud to a good friend of mine, she brought up a good point.

How was he able to do all this? How did he know almost the exact time, I got home or would be leaving. I certainly didn't share my schedule with him. I did tell him that I was in school and working, not expecting it to be a big deal. I'm an executive assistant and secretary, so even if he tried to call and get my schedule,

he would have either talked to me or a woman that I work alongside with, and she would have told me if someone called asking about me. My friend told me that I should keep tabs on him too, to make sure he wasn't stalking me. But at the time I thought that that was pretty dramatic. Following me for company, I could see. Stalking me?

There's no reason to stalk me. I wasn't a remarkable girl, but the thought stayed in the back of my mind nonetheless. But one Saturday night, my opinion shifted hard. I went out with some friends for dinner and a movie. afterwards we went for some drinks before I finally went home my friend offered to let me stay at her place and save myself the Uber but I had homework to finish before Monday so I declined and I told her that I would call her the next day

I wish I would have just stayed it was probably around 1 a.m. when I finally walked into the complex as I passed Todd's apartment I heard his door open. tired and slightly intoxicated, I continued into my apartment ignoring his calls for me. Once in my apartment, I locked up and kicked off my shoes when Todd started knocking on the door. I reluctantly answered, hoping he wouldn't stay long.

He smiled and said, Hey, late night, huh? I nodded, hoping I was portraying that I was not in the mood to talk. I was just worried when I didn't hear you come home. at your usual time. My usual time? How does he know my usual time? I asked him about it, and he mentioned how I usually got home from class on Saturdays in the afternoon,

and typically didn't leave unless I went for a walk. What the hell? Had he been following me? My head was now spinning in my heart racing, but I still asked him, How do you know what time I get home, Todd? Are you stalking me? He looked offended by my comment and immediately became defensive. He said he's not stalking me, but just looking out for me, since I was so young and small and lived alone. I told him I didn't need him to look out for me because I did just fine for myself. He threw his hands up and said, well, I thought you would appreciate the gesture.

I again explained to him how he seems to be always around and it makes me uncomfortable. I told him that he's keeping more tabs on me than my own father. He again didn't seem to like that response. I could see his temples flare as he clenched his jaw. Knowing nothing good was to come from this, I told him that it would be best to leave me alone and went to try and close the door when he stopped it. He smacked it with his hands and then started shouting,

about how I should be thanking him for what he does. He went on and on about how stalking is when someone follows somebody around, but all he did was watch where I went. After berating me with this nonsensical speech, he pointed his finger at me and said, In fact, I think you owe me for all that I do for you, and tried to walk into my apartment. I screamed at him to leave me alone and get out,

but he continued trying to fight me. me at the door. Then, the alcohol, stress, and fear swirled in my head and stomach, and I threw up, right on Todd. I guess it was a solution because he jumped backwards, called me nasty, and walked off. I immediately locked my door and ran to my phone to call the cops. While on the phone, I heard someone knocking at my door. I looked through the viewer and saw that was the middle-aged woman that lived in the apartment across from me. I cracked the door open and she said that she heard him shouting and had called the cops, which made sense,

because they were already walking in when she knocked too. I explained what happened to the cops and they went to his apartment, but he didn't answer. They knocked, they banged on the door, but he never answered it. Ultimately, I did press charges, and the next day I spoke to the office management, ask about changing buildings. I was upset. I had just moved into this place.

I couldn't afford to go through more app fees and deposits, so that was my only option. Thankfully, they took it very seriously, and they were able to move me pretty quickly. I stayed at my friend's house until I got to the new apartment, and always had someone with me when I was moving. Surprisingly, I didn't see Todd once in the process. not that I'm complaining, though. I'm just thankful that nothing worse happened that night. No matter how embarrassing it might have been, I think it certainly helped. Oh, and I'm very grateful for that good neighbor that did call the cops and checked on me.

I'm not even upset that she didn't come over sooner. She was older than me, but she was also just as small and had two kids there, so I get it. And as for Todd, I just hope that we never meet again. I have two stories that are basically the same, but are years apart from each other. My mom and her boyfriend used to be into dark magic, and they would use things like tarot cards and voodoo while my sister and I were playing in the room right next to them. We could see everything they were doing, but as kids we didn't understand, and just kept it. playing with her toys, thinking nothing of it. I used to have to get out of my bed a couple of times throughout the night to use the bathroom,

but my mom wasn't happy with that. She wanted me in my bed throughout the whole night. I'm not sure why, but she didn't like me getting up at night to use the bathroom. The stories I'm about to tell could easily be taken as me just not being able to see into dark rooms, but I think it is so much more than that now after the story my death, Dad mentioned at a camp a couple of years ago, which I will get to at the end. The first story is when I was very young, probably around seven. I had to have a gate on the side of my bed because I was a roller,

and I used to fall out of bed while I slept. I'd been using the gate for a year at that point, so I knew where the opening was to be able to get out of it, as I had done many times before. However, one night I woke up and had to use the bathroom, so I went to the top of my bed and felt around to know where to get out. I found the headboard of my bed and ran my hands down until I felt the gate. I realized that this couldn't be the opening since I could feel the gate, so I moved down to the end of my bed and yet the same thing happened. I figured I must have missed something, so I went back to the top of my bed and ran my hand down vertically.

All I could feel were bars, so I placed my hand in the middle, and then ran it all the way down until I reached the end of my bed. I still couldn't feel the opening. I knew the gate had an opening where there were no bars, yet there were bars everywhere. I got to the point where I started to freak out that I couldn't find it, so I just went to go over the end of my bed. However, when I tried, I couldn't. There's no reason as to why I wouldn't be able to just hop over the end of my bed, but for some reason I could not. I had to just go back to sleep,

and when I woke up the next morning I could see the opening of the gate. It was at the end of my bed where I know for a fact I was touching the night before, and it was all bars. The other occurrence was when I was a bit older, probably 12 or 13. I had to keep my door closed at night because we had cats, and I'm allergic to them. I woke up at some point during the night and had to go to the bathroom, so I got out of bed and went right over to where the door was. However, I could not find the doorknob.

I knew all I had to do to get to the door was get out of bed and walk to the right a few feet because my bed was very close to the door. I also knew that I had a tall jewel. jewelry box right next to my door. I found the jewelry box and continued to feel around for a while in that same area, but all I felt was wall. I was very familiar with the room, and I knew that the jewelry box was right next to the door, but I figured since I couldn't feel the door that maybe I was wrong. So I moved inch by inch around my room trying to find the door. When I felt my dresser, I knew I had gone too far.

I made my way back around the room, still moving slow with both hands on the wall, until I felt the jewelry box again. I searched around it on both sides, yet I still could not feel a door. I gave up after ten or so minutes of trying to get out of my own room, and just laid in bed and started to cry. The next morning, when I woke up, I could see the door. the same place I was feeling around the night prior, right next to the jewelry box.

Now, the story that my dad had told at camp a couple of years ago was that while him and my mom were going through their separation, he slept in my bedroom and let my mom sleep in the queen-sized bed they used to share. I slept in the bed with her while this was happening. For the few weeks that he was sleeping in my room, he had opened the blinds to my window and, found a mini thornbush. When he confronted my mom with it, asking what the hell it was,

she told him it was something her and her boyfriend did to keep me from getting up at night to use the bathroom. I have a hard time believing in black magic, but that is definitely something that I cannot explain. They said they did have something with that thornbush and then put it in my window to keep me from getting up at night, and then coincidentally, I would wake up having to use the bathroom and not being able to find my way out of the room.

I never knew this story until a couple of years ago, when my dad told it at the camp. My dad later said that he ended up throwing it across the street out of anger, and since then, I've had no problems getting out of my room at night anymore. Thank you for letting me submit my story, and if anyone hears this, I hope you all have a good day, or a good night's rest if you listen at nights like me. Because I can't figure out what happened. It was Labor Day weekend.

Almost time to head back to school, but my family and I were in the mood for one last hurrah. So my mom invited my aunt, uncle and cousin down for the weekend, and my other cousin was also having an end-of-summer cookout too, which meant everyone would have something to do while they were here. Everyone arrived Saturday, but the mood was slightly somber. My stepdad asked why, and my uncle told us that Princess Diana had just passed away. The adults talked about it for a little while.

My family, although very patriotic and American, are huge fans of the royal family. You'll see why this is relevant later. Meanwhile, my cousin headed outside with our favorite Barbie dolls and some other toys, and we started playing and laughing. It wasn't long before they called us in for dinner, then, after a few more minutes outside, in for the night. We grabbed everything and headed in,

only to hear my uncle talking about the weird nightmare he'd had a few days ago. He said that he'd went to sleep and woke up to everyone telling him that something bad was going to happen. Get out. Something bad was going to happen. He needed to get out. Then everyone's faces started melting. At the same time, some ladies came in and took his daughter away, and then he woke up.

My aunt told him to cool it with those kind of stories in front of us kids, and my parents said, no, she'll be fine, after all, it was just a dream. I was, but for some reason, I kept thinking about it, and I still do now, especially after that night. It was now bedtime, and my parents' game. us strict instructions that we were not to leave the bedroom, unless we needed the bathroom, or if one of us was sick. She said the grown-ups were turning off all the lights and everybody was tired. None of your usual tricks, my mom had warned, mostly to my cousin.

She could be pretty mischievous, and, of course, I would follow. You guessed it, we got up in the middle of the night. We had a few cookies and a juice box. Next we ventured out to the swing set for about an hour, and then I shut the party down, because I knew everyone would get mad if we got caught. We quietly crept inside, and by my orders back to bed. Here's where it gets scary. At breakfast the next morning, my cousin starts ratting us both out. She couldn't help bragging about our little adventure last night, but she starts adding things that didn't happen.

Like after the swing set We walked down to my best friend's house To the gas station Up the road from us Then two women in a black car Come up to us and shout my name She said we tried to run But they kept following

All while calling out to me We finally stop and they ask us What the hell we're doing out this late Without any adults She told them I was sleepwalking And she was trying to find me And they told her My name is Bridgett

and the other lady with me is Alicia, and we've got to take you home. She said the car was a black suburban, and my uncle chokes out. That's the car I saw in my dreams. The room gets silent, because that was a detail he didn't tell a soul about. Until my mom asks me if this is true. I fess up to the cookies, the juice box, and the swing set, but I swore to her we never left the yard and went straight to bed as soon as we came in. My cousin cries out

No, remember? You wanted to show me that playground at that girl's house. I can prove it too because you left your glow-in-the-dark star thingy outside. No, I didn't. It's still on the coffee table, I yell. No, it's not, my aunt says. I'm looking right now and your starlight toy is nowhere to be found. It's too big to miss.

I'm scared and angry by this point, but I'm not letting up, because I know we did not leave the yard, and I would never leave my starglass outside. It was more of a decoration than a toy. My uncle and stepdad walked to the backyard, and sure enough, there's my star, lying on the concrete. But that wasn't all. My pink jump rope is beside it,

which I hadn't been able to find for months. I can't speak, and my cousin is blabbering on and on with more crap. and you know what else Bridget said she played us a spice girl's song and told us they're from England and she asked us who else is from England and of course we said the royal family

and then she asked us about the beautiful princess that went to go be with Jesus and we said that her name was Diana my jaw just drops because it's almost like she believes this happened but I know that it didn't my mom suddenly grabs my arm and I just know that I'm in serious

trouble. I'm almost in tears, but she whispers in my ear, Baby, I believe you. I checked around the house about four this morning, because I had this bad feeling, and I saw your star on the coffee table. I also saw the boxes in the trash can. So, I think someone's playing a big joke. Plus, I don't know of Bridget or Alicia, who drive a black suburban, so calm down. You're not in trouble. Just please don't ever go outside late at night again, without one of us. I nod and walk back inside. Sadly, this doesn't end here.

Because that afternoon we see a black suburban drive up and down our block and stop by our mailbox. And twice, my cousin points out Bridget, a middle-aged white woman with jet black hair, and Alicia, a 20-something with curly brown hair and a nose ring. They wave at us, and then toss a spice girl's CD out the window and into our driveway. Then, after that day, we never see them again. To this day, my cousin still sticks to her story. She even remembers the song Bridget played, which was Say You'll Be There, and that the car smelled like cigarettes.

But now, I believe her. I believe something happened that night. I believe my cousin went somewhere with, Somebody or several somebodies, but who? Was something or someone that looked like me able to lure her away from the house? And who were Bridget and Alicia? Were the angels watching out for her, or something much darker? Did a bunch of us jump timelines and everything just got jumbled together in one big mega-glitch?

And what about my uncle? Was this a warning of this weird mix-up? too many questions and no answers but at least we enjoyed the rest of the weekend especially that cookout this happened in February of 2020 I live in the central Arkansas area for reference my buddy's grandparents own some farmland

about 15 to 20 minutes outside of our town and we would regularly spend the night out there on the weekends with some of our friends making a fire, drinking, etc, but this particular weekend was just him and I. It was pretty dark by the time we got there, but it was the standard fare. We had decided to set up a fire on the dirt path that ran from my friend's grandparents' house through their field to the woods. We built the fire closer to the middle of the field. Not long after we get the fire started, we sit down and get the fire started, we sit down and get a

get some music going and crack open our first beers. He turns off the music and notices something in the sky behind me. My back was facing the woods, and I turned to look. There was a bright light in the sky above the tree line. I wasn't too weirded out by this, and neither was he. However, I had never seen a star that bright before. I opened up this stargazer app on my phone that I'd had forever thinking we were close to a planet. But before I could even point my phone in that

direction, the star moved. At this point, we both froze. The light moved quickly and smoothly to the right without any bobs or waves, and was utterly silent. I noticed that the light was coming from some kind of flying vehicle and was actually much closer than we thought. It was probably 300 to 400 feet away, flying above the woods. This thing was also fast, too fast to move that quietly without making some sort of noise. It was dark, and I couldn't make out what exactly the vehicle was, and the bright light emitting from its side sort of obscured any good look. It moved perfectly parallel with the tree line, just right above it.

It was like it had left when it noticed that. that we had noticed it. We continued watching as the UFO just quickly and quietly moved on in a straight line until it was beyond our sight a few seconds later. We just sort of looked at each other like,

what the hell? And began to discuss what we just saw, sort of in hushed tones like we were dreaming. Twenty minutes or so later, we hear a noise coming from the sky and see two loud planes flying side by side.

going exactly the direction that the UFO had gone. At this point, we started thinking that it was a military drone of some kind, and we didn't see or hear anything else that night. I still think about it every now and then, and decided to post this looking for some opinions. What do you all think that it could have been? It was the summer between high school and college when I got my first real job. anything to get me out of the house and away from my parents and little sister.

You know the feeling. It's that time in your life when you feel your independence coming on. The job didn't pay a lot, just a few dollars an hour, but not bad for a kid in the 70s. This job required that I patrol a 30-mile stretch of interstate, and about 20 miles of secondary roads, removing the carcasses of dead animals killed in the roadway. I lived in the south and it gets tremendously hot here in the summer, which makes any outdoor job oppressive. That heat gets into everything, especially the carcasses,

the flies, the ants, the bugs, the opossums, foxes, and the buzzards. The bottom line, you want to get there as soon as possible after death, clean up everything, and move on. I was given an ancient pickup truck with a three-speed on the collar, and no radio, a hard hat, a reflective vest, and several masks. In the truck bed was a 55-gallon drum in which I kept a shovel, a hoe, a rake, and several buckets. I even had one of those large, wide shovels that people up north used to remove snow. At the end of the day, you get to empty out the back of the truck and relive that day's

horrors all over again, and then wash out the truck bed for the next day. This job made eating your mother's homemade spaghetti dinners difficult, no matter how hard you tried to put that day's memories out of your mind. In the summer, there are a lot of tourists on the road. More traffic equals more dead animals. Most vehicles then did not have air conditioning, so you'd have the window down trying to get as much air as possible. If you didn't get to the scene soon enough, you could smell it when some distance away.

Oh boy, could you smell it. I remember this particular week had been really bad. I'd picked up six deer, four opossums, five foxes, and even an armadillo. I don't remember how many dogs, cats, raccoons, or squirrels. I remember it was a Friday afternoon because I wanted to finish up and get to the weekend. I was on one of the secondary roads when I smelled a bad one coming. I hadn't driven far when I saw it. The carcass was mostly in the road, with only...

part of it on the shoulder. It had been run over more than once. I think there are sometimes people who aim for things like that. I pulled off on the shoulder, kicked on my flashers, put on my hard hat, vest and mask, and took the snow shovel from the back. As I approached, I saw something I will never forget. It made me nauseous. I ran to the shoulder of the road and was just able to get my mask off before I vomited. I saw the bottom half of a jaw. It was lying partly on the road and partly on the shoulder. And in that jaw were teeth, and in those teeth were fillings.

These events transpired in 2003 in Copenhagen. I took over a two-bedroom apartment from my pregnant sister who had been living there with her boyfriend, and obviously needed more space with the baby on the way, so she'd bought a bigger apartment elsewhere. The building was 70-ish years old, it was a brick building in the normal Danish style, with the original attic made into a small wooden storage room for the residence.

As I moved in, my sister handed me the various keys that I needed, including one for the padlock to the storage room. I hadn't bothered to go up there, as I didn't have many belongings at the time and had no need to store any stuff. The apartment needed paintings, so I got painting supplies and got to work. When I was done, I headed up to the attic to locate the storage room assigned to my apartment and stashed the supplies for later use. Now, the attic was a dimly lit hallway stretching end to end, and across the three stair rises with two apartments per floor for each stair.

So it was a fairly long hallway. Along with the dimly lit conditions, it was very low-ceilinged, and I could not stand upright in most places. In addition, it was dirty and dusty, so it really felt like stepping into a different world as the rest of the building was very well maintained inside and out. It took me a while to discern which unit belonged to me as the dust, dirt, age, and dim conditions, made reading the faded writing on the room door is difficult to read. The key fits, so I felt certain that it was my unit.

I opened it up and was taken aback and a fair bit annoyed to discover that my unit was halfway filled with all sorts of random boxes and racks of assorted items. I was wondering why my sister and her boyfriend had left all their old crap behind for me to deal with, as such behavior was very out of character for them. I placed my painting supplies in the floor, more or less in the middle of the room, and went about my day. A week or two later, I got around to call my sister, and, besides a bit of chit-chat, I inquired to their leftover stuff in the attic storage. To my surprise, she assured me that they had emptied it out completely before moving out.

I was a little confused, to say the least, so I went back upstairs to double check that I hadn't made a mistake and or was going crazy. Since I had only been there once before, I couldn't immediately remember which unit was mine. The units seemed to have been assigned almost randomly and only loosely according to who lived in which side. so it took me a while to locate the designated unit. I put my key into the padlock and unlocked it, opened the door, and discovered an empty storage room. A relatively thick layer of dust and dirt covered the floor, but otherwise it was empty.

I was really annoyed as I needed my painting supplies for some additional paintwork. My thought was that my key had somehow managed to open up a different unit, and I had put my painting supplies in the same thing. there. So I went all the way up and down the hallway, trying out my key in all the padlocks multiple times. Sometimes keys of similar makes will enter into other locks, but will be unable to turn, so I thought that maybe I had a situation like that, where they were so similar that I was actually able to unlock it. But no, the key I had did not fit into any other padlock anywhere in the attic, let alone unlock it.

My thinking at the time was that whomever the other unit belonged to had randomly needed to use their own units in the two or so weeks between me putting my supplies in there and had been annoyed to find someone else's stuff in there and then changed their padlock to bar me from further entry. I lived in the apartment for 15 years and I never met anyone who went up there. It was really not the sort of place anyone would frequent, so for them to discover my stuff in there and that short of a window seems more and more unlikely to me as the years have passed.

But it is obviously not an impossible explanation. It is, however, the only rational one that I can come up with. Okay, so the story may be a little different, but nonetheless, I thought you might be interested in here. hearing it, so here it goes. I moved into a new home in 2021. It was a nice little house, but it was perfect for me. It was a two-bedroom with a full basement and attached garage, which was pretty much perfect for me and what I needed.

It was also my first owned home as I was previously renting a house, but it wasn't working out with the owners. You see, I foster dogs, and when I moved into the last place, I told me that I told the owners this to make sure they were okay with it. But then, after two years there, they told me I either had to get rid of the dogs or move out. Obviously, I chose my dogs. I was pretty excited about my new place because I was planning on renovating the whole garage to be their little dog haven. They would have access to the house, of course, but they would also have their dog beds, toys, food, entertainment in there. Some dogs I rescue.

came from bad environments, and sometimes they would rather have their own safe space, and I respected that. They deserved it. But anyways, I'm getting a little off topic. So my new home was going to open a lot of doors for me and my dogs, so everything was looking good. When I started moving in,

I had the normal neighbors watching from their porch, or the kids staring as they rode past my house on their bikes. Nothing too remarkable. But since I did have a lot of stuff and large equipment, it took me a few days to move in. I even had a few friends into co-worker helping me late one night. It was one of the moments of, I'm tired of moving, I got my second win and I just wanted it to be done already. So I gathered up who I could with promises of free beer and food, and we finally finished at about 2 o'clock in the morning. While we sat in my living room relaxing for the rest of the night, I had someone knocking on my door.

To my surprise, it was a cop. He said he was there due to a reported disturbance. I was confused, wondering if maybe they had the wrong house, but I allowed him inside and explained that I had just finished moving in. I think after he saw all of us in the living room sitting around with drinks and controllers, he understood what had happened. He just reminded me to be aware of the amount of noise we were making considering the time, and I apologized and assured him that it wouldn't happen again. We continued on with our night,

but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious who called the cops on us. I know we were laughing and talking pretty loud, but I didn't think we were that loud. But I digress. Over time, I noticed, several of my neighbors being very watchful. Sometimes when I would get my mail, the older lady next door to me would be getting hers too. But when I approached, she would quickly gather her mail, stop sifting through it, and swiftly

walk back to her house. But she wouldn't go inside. She stood near her trash bin, trying to act like she was looking it over or adjusting it, but I think I caught her off guard because I could see her staring at me. When we finally made eye contact, she immediately ran off into her house. I thought it was weird, but ultimately just chalked it up to her being that cliche old lady. She's probably lived there for decades. Didn't like new people.

Not to mention, I'm sure I looked pretty intimidating. But I let it go. I didn't need to make friends with my neighbors and have everyone. unlike me, especially if they just left me alone, then I didn't care. But she wouldn't be the only person to stare at me. While mowing the yard one Sunday, I started feeling watched. I looked around and noticed the two kids standing with their bikes near the road in front of my place, watching me.

I waved at them, and without as much as a returned wave or smile, they got on their bikes and rode off. As I watched them right away, I saw the couple standing on the porch across the street also staring at me. The woman was on the phone and kept pointing towards my place and talking with her hands. The guy stood on the steps with his arms crossing his chest, and he looked pissed off as he stared at me too. I didn't know what the deal was over there, but I didn't like the idea of them staring and pointing at me. I tried to rush through mowing so I could just go back inside. As I walked to the shed to put my mower away,

I noticed the couple on the other side was in their backyard, and the man was trying to look over the fence into my yard. I didn't understand why I seemed to be so interesting to these people, but I was honestly quite annoyed. I greeted the man saying something like, hey, how's it going? I seemed to have startled him as he immediately walked away, yelled something to his wife,

and both of them scurried away inside. Stuff like that continued to happen for weeks. I would come home, someone would come outside and watch me. If it was during the day, some of them would go inside, and I even heard the people across the street call their kids inside, who had been playing in the yard. I was starting to think that something was going on that I wasn't aware of. Was this going to be a regular thing for me?

I finally got the freedom to do what I wanted in my own home, and my neighbors were going to make me feel like I was locked in some kind of prison, constantly being watched. Then, I finally had my chance to try and confront the situation head on. On my day off, I decided to hit up a coffee shop to get up. get my day started. As I waited for my coffee, I noticed one of my neighbors sitting at a table nearby, staring intently at his tablet. This was the only person in the neighborhood that had ever really tried to talk to me. He usually kept to himself, but if he was outside when I drove by

or was walking one of the dogs, he would wave to me. I've also seen him at this coffee shop a few times, and we would just smile and nod at each other. He never tried to avoid me, and so I thought maybe I would have a shot at clearing some things up with him. I approached and greeted him, and after asking how he was, he offered me to sit with him. After a little small talk, I slipped in how the neighborhood seems to keep tabs on everyone else. He laughed and made a comment about how they're not very subtle about it, which is why he kept to himself, too. I asked him what he meant by that, and he said, nonchalantly, I think they're just afraid of you. Then he started laughing.

I was confused. Why would they be afraid of me? Like I mentioned, I may look kind of scary, I guess. I'm a bigger guy. I'm bald and I have full tattoo sleeves on both arms, but I don't try to pretend to be tough or intimidating. The only time I need to do that is at work because I work security

at a pretty high-level office building. So I asked the old man if that's what he meant. He shrugged and said that it was probably because people were cooped up inside and had nothing better to do with their time, but make things up. It was nice to talk to him,

because I've learned that he reminded me a lot of myself. He was honest and blunt, even if it wasn't what you wanted to hear, and I appreciated that. But after learning this, I didn't know how to react and what to do. Am I supposed to go door to door and tell these people about myself? Do I put up a sign that says, I'm not mean? Was I supposed to just live with people thinking I was a blemish on their community?

At the time, that's really all I could do. I told myself that either their gossip would die or I would. get to settle the rumors when I had the time. It was only a few days later that I decided to take one of my more skittish dogs for a walk to give him some one-on-one time. I walked by the old man's house, Neil, as I came to learn, and he was outside, talking to the woman that lived across from me, the one that I saw talking on the phone. She was standing by a kid who was holding a booklet. Neil called out to me by name, so I looked over and waved. But then he motioned for me to come over.

I wasn't planning on interacting with others, so I didn't have a mask on me at the time, so I was hesitant to approach, as those three did have one on. Even though their face was covered, I could see the look of disappointment from the woman, and she pulled the kid in closer to her. I reluctantly approached and used my shirt to cover my face, apologizing for not having a mask on me. Neil waved me off saying I was fine, as they all did, and then he immediately introduced me to the woman.

He confirmed that she lived across from me, and in his fashion, he said, Clayton said he thinks people don't like him. Have you heard about that, Sarah? I watched as the color drained from her face. I couldn't help but laugh to cover up the awkward situation. She tried to deny it, so Neil laughed and then turned to me and asked about me.

He asked what I did for a living, and I explained that I worked in security, and briefly explained where it was, as it wasn't too far from home, maybe 10 to 12 miles. I also explained that I worked overnight, which is why I left late at night, came home early and wasn't typically seen during the day, because I may be asleep or taking care of my dogs. He then asked me about my dog, and the kid asked if he could pet him. I told him he could, as he was friendly, and then explained that I fostered dogs. That's when Sarah asked, do people adopt them from your place, too?

I confirmed, and I explained that I had people over during the day to look at the dogs and possibly adopt them. Her face changed to one of understanding, like something finally made sense. sense to her. It was finally making sense to me. These people saw me at weird hours. They saw people coming and going, and probably heard odd sounds too because of me working in the garage. Maybe some of the dogs that whimpered and cried because some of them hated baths, who knows. But I started to see what Neil was doing. He never confirmed, but I assumed that he learned some of the things people were saying, and that's why he brought those up specifically. Sarah loosened up tremendously as we talked, and probably even more when the kid asked me if I wanted

to help his school fundraiser and I agreed to. He was selling candy bars and chocolate is my weakness, so I bought a whale box. I think I became that kid's best friend that day. Anyways, after chatting for a few minutes, I excused myself and then waved goodbye. I went home that night feeling some sort of way. I was happy to talk to someone other than kneel and clear things up, but at the same time, I felt kind of crappy that there probably were rumors about me. But when I talked to my mom about it, she made a good point.

She pointed out that I was looking like the creepy and suspicious neighbor. I was, in fact, the creepy neighbor for everyone else. and that made me laugh. I still live in the same place, and now the kids come by to play with the dogs, which is great. It gives them the chance to get out a lot of energy, and they never miss my place when they have some kind of fundraiser. It's become a much better place to live,

knowing your neighbors are behind you. Even the old lady next to me, Marcia, seems to keep her distance, but she doesn't mind it when I shovel her driveway or mow her yard. So, yeah, that's my story of the tables being turned, and how, for a little while, I was the creepy neighbor. Hey, Raven, this is my second story to you, but I'm not really sure what to classify this as. It just happened to me a few seconds ago on May 6th, 2024. To preface, I have four very unique and different black cats.

Each one has their own looks, personality, and even meow. My oldest cat, Bliss, has a very distinct merit from all the rest, and I could tell her apart by her meow in a room full of black cats. We also have a baby gates to the hallway because of our 10-month-old son, which all the cats, except for Bliss, can easily jump over. She's too old and fat to do so on her own, and I have to help her one way, as I have a bobbed. for her to jump on the other way.

Well, anyways, she's jumped on the box and come over to the living room side and has been over here for a while. I've been listening to your videos in the background, not really paying attention, and I heard her exact meow on the other side of the gate to the hallway. I know for a fact, though, that she did not jump the gate. It's way too high. Even if she tried, her belly and back legs would have hit the gate and made a little. lot of noise. After hearing the meow, I went to investigate, and only one of my cats was in the

back of the house, and he was much further back than the meow that I heard. I went back to the other side of the gate and looked for bliss, who I found in the complete opposite direction of the noise in the kitchen. If anyone wants to tell me what this was, I would very much like that. An echo, a glitch, a mimic? I don't know. But thank you, Raven. Thank you. When I was very young and began riding my horse through the woods in 1973,

I would at times hear these heavy, huge footfalls behind me. It was autumn in Arkansas, NLR, Pulaski County on the outskirts of the city. Our house sat at the base of a huge hill, and the woods started about half a half a little. way up. If I continued riding, I would end up in Camp Robinson, at the time a military ground they used for practice. Saying all that, I never saw a human or anyone practicing any military routine, but I was very used to the sound of the crackling branches, little animals scurrying about, and the echoes of my horse hooves breaking twigs. This event happened several times and even seemed to follow me hundreds of miles to northwest Arkansas and the Ozarks.

I would be riding in the daytime, midday, and would hear the huge footfall, like the heaviest sounding footsteps ever, that would be almost in time with my horse's stride. So I would stop quickly and listen, and it would stop, but a moment or so later I would hear that last footstep. I even galloped the horse several times, and it would keep pace. but when I stopped abruptly I would hear a couple quick footfalls behind me. It terrified me. It's weird because my ears would prick like a dog's, and I would hear nothing else in the forest. No birds were chirping, or even turkey buzzards flying around.

The worst was once we moved to Strickler, Arkansas. Our 240 acres butted up to the national forest. If I'd been riding all day and was making it home, late, I would stick to the dirt road as the light of the sun grew dimmer. I would hear those same heavy footsteps in the woods along the road. It's unexplainable the chill that ran up my spine. I was a seasoned outdoorsman by this time and went hiking as well. 1978 to 1983.

It never happened in the winter that I remember. I didn't see anything at the times listed, but it was more than obvious that I would was being stalked by something that was heavy enough to hear over the sound of my horse's four hooves and the leather saddle. Long-time listener, first-time submitter. I know that one of the biggest questions is, if they do exist, are they from here, government-owned, or does life actually exist beyond our planet and visit? Well, I can answer this question matter-of-factly. All three are correct. I believe. believe some have made our planet their home. Some UAPs are of government experimental technology,

and some truly are from beyond our planet. Here is my UAP-UFO experience. It's a good one due to the rarity of aspects experienced, and this experienced happened in Macedonia, Illinois. I was 25 years old, and we lived on a 10-acre piece of land surrounded by absolutely nothing as far as the eye could see. Now, on both sides, and pretty far away in either direction, we did have neighbors. You could not see their homes from our homes, so they were located a ways down either side of the road and were both backed by acreage plus tree lines. It was 10.30 p.m., and we did not smoke in the house. Also, this was actually my parents' home. I had moved in after a break up until I could gather myself back up.

Now, when you stepped out the front door, you were closed in by a small wooden deck. The only exit was an opening and three short steps located to your left as you stepped out the front door. It was around 10.30, and the three of us were up watching a movie, and I decided I was going to smoke a cigarette real quick, and stepped out onto the deck. I opened the door, stepped out, walked forward and leaned on the rail, looking out across the field across the street. I smoked half of my cigarette, and then turned and walked down the three steps,

which led out into the driveway. Although I can't remember the exact reason I walked down and off the deck, I do know that we had baby ducks, kittens, and guineas at the time, and I would say one of the animals were the reason behind my action. Once off the deck, I turned toward the back of the house, looking into the backyard. This is when I saw it.

I could have thrown a baseball and hit this thing. That is how close it was to me, and probably had been the entire time I was outside. It was a light, like looking into an oncoming train or a stadium light. A bright, round, single light, and a big one. It was hovering feet ahead of me, and, just above the roof of the house. I instantly froze.

At first my mind tried to rationalize what I was seeing. My first thought was just simply to wonder what I was looking at. And then things started to hit me. Like how close it was, but making no noise. Complete silence. And it was so still. Like an object frozen in time. Then, how bright.

it was, yet it casted no light. It was completely dark outside. I hadn't even turned the porch light on due to bugs. If someone shines a flashlight at you in the dark, the light being cast illuminates you. No light was being cast from this thing, yet it was such a bright light. It casts no light on the house, the ground, nor me. It definitely should have. And then the worst realization came to me, there was nothing and no one around. It was dark outside, and I was in the middle of nowhere. It occurred to me as I stood there staring at it so close to me that this thing was also staring back at me, that I had to be its object of observation. There was nothing and no one else to be observing. I was totally frozen in fear. I felt how I would expect a hunter to feel

if they were in the woods alone, and Bigfoot stepped out and started a staring contest with them. Do I run? Will it give chase? If I scream, what will it do? There's a huge difference spotting a UFO in the sky over your town or in a group of people around you. It's completely different than spotting one staring at you just feet away.

At night, all alone, in the middle of nowhere, knowing you are its object of observation. I was totally frozen, and I never took my eyes off of it. I didn't even move to smoke my cigarette. I remember only spreading my fingers to allow it to fall to the ground once I felt the heat on my fingers from it burning up. I stared at this thing in the face for what felt like three to five minutes, just frozen. And then it moved.

It silently and slowly floated to the left, which would have been my right as I stared at it, a ways, then this thing moved silently straight up about ten feet, and then slowly to the left, and then it just shot into the sky like a comet, even leaving a tail of light. This thing just shot out of our atmosphere, period. I remember telling myself to watch where it was going.

It shot out right towards the center of three stars that made a triangle. I don't know my constellations, but if I was still, taken back there, I could still point this spot out. There was no governmental aircraft, and it was not from here. I watched it leave. I had nightmares of being abducted for a week after this. I dreamed I was taken out of my window. I would dream of a light under my door and shining through the windows.

I mean, this experience traumatized me for a minute or two. I know it had to be watching me the entire time I was outside. As silent as it was, and behind me has always made me wonder how many times it may have been there throughout my life, and I wouldn't have noticed. Think about it. How many times a day do you actually stop and look up at the sky? I can spend all day outside and never look up. Maybe see the sky as I look out, but never up. Anyway, that's my story.

Well, one of my many stories, but... This is my only UAP story. Thanks, Raven. Whether you read it on the podcast or not, because I've never told it before. My aunt and uncle decided that they would accept an offer to transfer that her husband's job had extended to him. We live in Louisville, Kentucky,

and that means that a couple cars they wanted to take would be traveling 2,500 miles. The moving van came and the workers wrapped and packed all their belongings, and went on ahead. My two male cousins decided to go, took the older brother's car, and my aunt and uncle took my aunt's car,

and the other brothers worked by now or went to school and stayed in Louisville. My aunt offered that I could come, shop, and explore, and I could help her unpack and arrange her things while her husband would be at work. I had my whole school vacation, so I anxiously wanted to see San Francisco,

and it's Chinatown, explore their area of Walnut Creek. We could ride the BART, and it all honestly sounded great. My uncle drove her car, a gold firebird, which actually has precious little back seat, but I made it. Each day my uncle would have an exacting plan and we'd make a trip beginning at 10 a.m. After we would have breakfast at the hotel, and had gotten all ready to roll and not a second later. It was all like clockwork.

and we would arrive at the next leg of our destination in time for the last call for supper at the new hotel's dining room. All the meals were really satisfying and nice. The routine ensured that we would be fed and well rested and on time, and it worked great. Our first stop was Champaign, Illinois, the next Cheyenne, Wyoming. That day was my cousin's birthday, and we worked in a little more fun once we arrived. That night, we were all satisfied with our food and relaxed and not overly tired. I was 16 and pumped. I had my shower and washed my hair and brushed it out,

watching a hilarious David Allen, a comedian who cracked me up so much I had to keep myself from laughing out loud as my aunt and uncle slept in the same room in a king-sized bed. Mine was nearby. My two male cousins were in a room that actually, adjoined hours through a locking doorway. They had already said good night, and we didn't hear a peep out of them. I guess one was 18 that day, and the other was maybe 20.

I was a 16-year-old girl, and their parents were in the early 40s. There was a transom over the door to outside, one of those louved windows that can let in fresh air safely, and though we had on the AC, my aunt had opened it. As I said, I felt energy and was young fresh out of the shower and had just watched a hilarious show. I turned out the lights and chuckled to myself as I sighed. My eyes swept the room and lit on the shadows coming forward by the Teessum. Our car was very near to our door. The large picture window had big drapes that were pulled and the AC hummed along as my uncle lightly snored,

and I could tell my aunt went to sleep as soon as her head had the door. the pillow. Suddenly, from behind the drapes, I saw this figure of a tall man move, and he moved from by that large window, and I realized he'd been there all along. I've never been so scared and kept asking myself what to do, and berated myself for being such a damned coward. My aunt's uncle were right there by him. He made a noise, and my aunt sighed and slightly turned her head hearing it, and also I thought, oh, don't wake up, and then she settled back into her slumber. If we were quiet, he could rob us and go, but if we confronted him. I next saw the figure move to my uncle's dresser, where he'd placed his keys in wallet,

his toll change and pocket stuff there on the chest of drawers. He rooted around, and I heard the little clinking noises, as did my aunt who stirred again. Then he moved on into my two male cousins room through our adjoining doors, I figured. They were both very tall and slim and super strong. One even had martial arts training. I feared being young like I was, they could have been awake, watching TV or talking, and I worried the man could kill them. I saw him pass into the other room, but it was so dark so I couldn't ID him or see too many details. but I saw that he was tall and slim and that he had a cowboy-style hat.

I kept listening but heard no commotion for so long that fear was overtaken with sleep. When I woke up, I saw with the light on that the door to the boys adjoining room was much further down to the right than where the man had gone through. So the man had gone through the wall. Nothing was missing after I told my aunt and uncle the story. My cousins heard nothing and had slept hard. I certainly was anything but an anxious mood. My aunt confirmed hearing noises twice

and heard someone fooling with the stuff on the chest of drawers. I was so afraid originally thinking he was an intruder, but I now believe since he went through the wall, maybe he was the ghost of an old cowboy or a shadow person. This is my getting lost in the wall. Woods story. I feel like I see so many of these, and yet they're always so relatable. I've been wanting to share my story in one of these subredits since it happened, so this is it,

and this will be long. This happened about two years ago. Me and my fiancé and my best friend decided to go to this popular hiking trail near us. The trail leads to a giant rock that hangs off of a cliff. It's a beautiful look over the city that I live in. It's a far walk through the woods. You're on the same trail going straight for most of the hike. The trail eventually makes a sharp turn, gets thinner, and gets very steep.

You really have to hike up this part, and then you reach an open field. You can see the rock above you. You have to climb up one more path that leads to the rock. Even though the hike is long, the people are long. path is very easy and it's kind of hard to mess up, considering that it is the only path in that area of woods, that I've found, at least. I've done it multiple times at this point, even hiked down well after midnight, after watching fireworks on the 4th of July. Anyways, the three of us decided, since we were walking close to the road that lead you to the trail,

we were going to go visit. It was about 7 p.m. so it started to get dark pretty fast. We didn't even make it off the first part of the trail that I had already mentioned. It goes straight for about an hour until you gets to the sharp turn. We didn't even make it to that. We decided since it was getting dark, we should just turn around. We all had our flashlights on and everything was normal. We never set foot off the path.

The path is pretty much dark engulfed by the trees, but there is this one spot where the trees open up, and you can see the entire downtown area of my city. And it feels very high up, because this trail is basically in the middle of the hillside surrounding the town. If you've ever been to Pennsylvania, you get it. We got to the spot where the clearing is, where you can see downtown. But it looked flip-flopped.

I don't even really know how to explain it. it looked like the town was flipped. Like how you can flip an image on your phone? Like someone took the town and flipped it the other way, if you get it. It was late and dark, and we were tired of walking, so... I just don't think we really took it seriously when we walked past. I still felt the weird feeling, though, and I felt like everything was backwards all of a sudden.

That's the only way I can really describe it is backwards. We all said the same thing to each other. It was my fiancé who said something first, which is just weird because usually he'd be the last to say anything in a situation like that. All he said was that he feels backwards. My best friend freaked out because she gets anxiety like that and said that she felt the same way. I mentioned the clearing looked weird, and they all agreed with me. They thought the same thing, but thought that they were just being. silly. At this point, we should be close to the exit, but it kind of felt like we were going in

circles. The path started breaking like the path wasn't even the same that we'd been walking on, so we turned back around towards the rock to try to figure out where we were. We came back to the clearing and it still looked weird, so we took pictures. I do have them still if anyone cares to see, but you wouldn't be able to make out that it looks flip-flop. unless you live in the same town. We knew we were at the clearing, though, because it was the only part where the woods were clear, and we knew that we were on the right path,

as we never even got off of it. We decided to turn back around towards the exit, but it didn't bring us to the exit. It also didn't bring us to the path that looked wrong and started to break. It was a whole new part of the woods that we have never seen before. There was a door in the ground. It looked like the door to a mine, maybe. We tried to do research, but there's no evidence of mining being there,

but there are multiple mines in my city, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was just old and wasn't on record. Beside the door was about five or six white chairs with what seemed to be white sheets lying on the ground around them. Like little pieces of white cloth. not very big, just pieces. There were also beer bottles. The chairs were in a circle formation,

but there was no fire pit in the middle or anything, just this circle of chairs. Looking back, it could have been a little campsite that someone made, but man, was it scary as hell at night when he lost? It really freaked us out, and every time we walked away, it seemed we had just made our way back to the chairs and the door. Obviously, we start trying to call and text people we know for help.

I even called my parents, but no one answered. It was late, so I guess that makes sense. We were so lost and getting really scared that we were going to have to sleep up here. Eventually, after walking, what seemed to be in circles, we just walked out. Like so fast, the exit was right there, we just walked on the path for a minute, and were out like that. Almost immediately after we leave, I get texts back from the people I was trying to get help from. And one more creepy thing, just to put the icing on the cake. There was like 1,032 picks taken on my fiancée's phone at 1032 p.m.

Like a burst photo. If you have an iPhone, they have these things called bursts where you can take a lot of pictures quickly. It was so weird. The picks were all just white. It's also weird how his phone took pictures while he had his flashlight on at the same time. The picks were taken during the time that we were lost. We didn't go back for about a year

until me and my fiancé decided to go back and try and find the path that we had made it on to, just for peace of mind. We couldn't find it. We couldn't find the door and we couldn't find anything weird. Except a giant meat grinder. I hate the woods so much. It freaks me out thinking about any woods or forests of any time.

That's just one of the worst experiences for me, but I've had a few. Honestly, I just hope people don't think that I'm BSing. It sounds crazy to me, so I can imagine someone thinking I'm lying, but I'm really just looking for a possible explanation. It's one of the things that bothers me to this day, and my fiancé doesn't like to tell. talking about it because there's just no explanation. Me and my best friend will still talk about it, but it goes nowhere because we've thought of every possible explanation we can think of. So any similar experiences or theories would be great. Lazzangue surgellied,

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admire, and, and profite. Vyaray, the voice we love. Back when I was about 16, me and my two cousins were staying over at my grandmas for our summer vacation. My cousin, Dan, was about 14, and was really interested in ghosts in talking about how he once saw something hanging from the Black Bridge at night. This Black Bridge is an abandoned train bridge that's really high up from a creek below it. There was some background story about someone who had once hung in themselves there.

The words bloody death were also spray painted on the underside of it in a place that was hard to see. It was likely some teenagers having some fun, long before our time. Anyway, we always thought it was an interesting story, and so on a dark, foggy night, we mustered up the courage to go explore the spooky bridge. The cloud cover made it darker, so it was but, particularly creepy with the way the shadows from our flashlights were so sharp and animated. After some time, whispering about the drowning victim and the hanging man, we started to spook ourselves to the point that we both agreed that we should head back to the house.

As we made our way back with the allegedly haunted bridge to our backs, we decided to take a quick look back to see if we were being followed by a ghost. The flashlight caught a reflection of eyes in the darkness from where we came, Looking back on it now, it was likely a raccoon. Obviously, that's not how we reacted at the time as we ran full throttle back to my grandma's house. Dan suggested that we make a Ouija board to see if we can talk to it. It was drawn on a big sheet of paper, and we used a shot glass to guide answers to our questions. We were whispering to make sure we didn't wake anyone up.

As he explained the rules to me and carefully repeat, that you should never play with a Ouija board if you don't believe in it, and you should never question it, like it's some kind of insults to the dead or demons or something. I'm guessing that was one of the rules told to him by whoever he learned about it from. He also said that if anything goes wrong, we'll need to destroy the Ouija board as soon as possible. I didn't know if these were actual rules for playing it,

since I was never interested enough to learn about that stuff. It's important to note that we were playing it in the kitchen with visibility of the living room. We didn't have to look to know that our other cousin Bryson was on the couch, snoring loudly, especially for an eight-year-old kid. It was basically the middle of the night, maybe around 2 a.m. I should also mention that all the chairs happens to be pulled out around the table, even though there were only two of us playing. You'll see why I mentioned this shortly. At first we began asking questions like, is anybody there? And will you talk with us?

And before long, the shot glass began to move under our gently combined fingers. I couldn't tell if he was moving it, and he actually asked me if I was moving it. I thought he might have asked me to make me think that it was totally legit. In the beginning, the answers were a bit weird and not really making sense, but after a while the answers were coming through. Yes and no. Of course those were common answers. I thought that I would mess with him a little and just disobey the rule about asking if the game is real or fake, just to see his reaction. With a whisper, I asked it, and Dan's eyes became very wide with the shocked look on his face.

The shot glass started moving around faster and faster, and at first I thought he was doing it in response to what I'd asked. Suddenly, though, my eight-year-old cousin sleeping in the other room who could not possibly have heard our whispers sat up quite suddenly in a creepy and unnatural way, exactly like a possession scene from a movie. It gave me goosebumps. His eyes were still closed, and he replied to my question to the Ouija board, in a loud, weird voice. He said, We are sitting here now. We can play the game now. I think we could both feel our hair standing on end.

As wide-eyed Dan grabbed our makeshift Ouija board and ran on to the porch, tearing it up as he went. We both went outside too shocked to investigate any further. He was bent over with his hands on his knees and looked up at me saying, That's why you should never question it. He was quite serious. Looking back on it, I can speculate that maybe it was just a wild coincidence that Bryson happened to sleepwalk at the exact moment and sit up really fast like that,

and utter a sentence that just happened to be the perfect scary answer to my forbidden question, which he shouldn't have been able to hear. Also, it doesn't seem like something an eight-year-old could think up on the spot like that, especially when he was snoring and there was no way he could hear us. No matter how I look at it, it was a really creepy moment that I'll never forget. Were there actually ghosts or something sitting in the chairs,

telling us they were now ready to play with us? Needless to say, we didn't do any more Ouija boards in that house, ever again. Just a heads up. This story, it may be triggering to some people, so you may want to add a warning to the beginning. Consider that to your warning. A number of years ago, in the middle of the summer,

my friend Matt and I decided that we wanted to go out and do some urban exploration. We hadn't done much that summer since it was hotter than Hades out there that year, and on this day the heat had finally broken some, so we wanted to get up and get out for at least a little while. We were both 16, and both of us had a lot of pent-up angst, so we wanted to let as much energy out as we could. and to let that energy out, we decided biking to an abandoned factory would be fun.

We could check out the machinery, break a window or two, we were young and stupid, and I know we shouldn't have done that, and just mess around for a while. The factory that we wanted to check out had been closed for about a decade, and had sat completely void of any activity since it was closed,

other than other people that wanted to check it out, that is. We biked out to where it was, and immediately were taken aback by how messed up the building actually was. We hadn't been there yet. We'd only known where it was, and the walls were heavily damaged. The windows were all already smashed out, and there were spray paint tags all over the front. It was at least easy to get into the building. The side doors were all busted out, so there wasn't really any challenge there. When we got in, the air felt stale and stuffy,

kind of like an abandoned factory that had no working ventilation for around a decade, because that's what it was. We were both kind of nervous at first, wondering if there would be someone in that building or something. I don't know why that was our first thought, other than we were just dumb kids. Matt called out asking if anyone else was there, to which no one replied. No surprise there.

We wandered around the main hall to just sort of look around and see what we could find, but there wasn't really much there. I won't bore you with the details of our adventure around the empty spaces, because really not much happened. It wasn't until we started going around the administrative parts of the building that we found what this story is about. We were going around the offices, just checking out what furniture was still there,

when we got to one that was decently sized, probably management style. I was checking out in one of the desks, just looking in the drawers and whatnot, when I pulled one out and heard a thumping sound. I peeked into the drawer but didn't see anything in the back. I made a comment that there wasn't anything there that fell,

and then Matt responded saying that it could have been something behind the drawer. I lifted the drawer and pulled it off the door, the track and sure enough, he was right. There, on the ground, was what looked like a small camera case, looking like it was behind the desk and had fallen to the floor. I reached back and grabbed it and unzipped it, and honestly I wasn't sure what I was looking at. In the case, there were a few photographs, five, to be exact. Matt and I looked through them and after a few moments of figuring out what I was looking at, I started to feel sick. The photos were, and there's honestly no softer way to say this, of either a murder

or of people celebrating a person that was murdered. There were a couple of photos of a person's corpse that was, again, there's no other way to say this, mutilated. And then the rest of the photos had a group of three guys looking like they were covered in blood, standing around said body, with their thumbs up and creepy grins on their faces.

They looked insane, like they were completely out of their mind, which you would have to be if you were taking photos of yourself with a dead body and covered in blood. I asked Matt if I was seeing what I thought I was, and he confirmed what it was.

We looked at the photos again, seeing if maybe they put their names on the back or something, but there wasn't any information on them nor in the case. After a few silent moments of us just thinking that the pictures were messed up, I asked what we should do, and Mad said that we should just put it back in the desk and forget they even existed. I actually agreed.

And I zipped the case back up, tossed it back into the desk, and we decided that that was enough for both of us. We decided to end our adventure, and we decided to go home. Those images have honestly haunted me for a long time. And unfortunately, they do randomly flash in my mind. Did we find someone's secret stash of photos they took after they murdered someone? Like some kind of disgusting trophy?

Of course, there's the possibility that they weren't real, but they looked very real. And then why would someone keep fake murder scene photos? photos like that. We never went back and we never reported them, and unfortunately the factory was demolished not too long after this. So, surely someone else had to have found them, right? Either way, I try not to think about this too much, and would rather just forget it.

But hopefully your audience thinks this is enjoyably creepy. I had worked in a very large downtown hospital. in the lab as a phlebotomist for seven years. While still there, I had a patient who was in the psychiatric unit. I was always very good with them and would be successful, because I was good at keeping them calm, obtaining my specimens, and doing it quickly. The staff up there really liked this, so they sometimes requested me. Two memorable times in particular still grabbed me.

The one day I went to draw blood from a guy of about three. He had a vibe going on that was different than any of the other patients. And in a minute's time, I had to win his confidence, and the other minutes to obtain the specimen, label, date time, and initial it. We had loads of work, and that unit was so time-consuming because you first waited for someone to unlock the glass doors, and then you would have to wait longer to be let out again, and communicate through an intercom. They brought the patient to me, and he sat down, and then said to me, I have the devil in me. I looked into his face, looking up from my tray that we had to be so careful that they wouldn't take anything from,

and his eyes were, well, like looking into the pits of hell. I said, I'm sure you do. Suddenly, three voices came out of this man at once, as he beamed and smiled, hanging, thank you. Now, no one had been successful with him, likely because they must have said he didn't. But when I saw those eyes and heard those three voices, I came to a conclusion. At church Bible readings, I would hear of Jesus healing people under the oppression of the demons. I figured it was their mental illnesses, actually.

But no, there is mental illness all right, and then there is a person in the grip of the devil or demon. Definitely. Years later, I experienced a similar incident with someone else at another time. The other incident that was so scary actually ended my career as a phlebotomist. I was called to the adult unit to a young lady, maybe 20 years old, who was a very pretty girl with a smooth, black, flawless complexion. She was about 300 pounds, and she was very tall. you have to palpate or feel for a vein, and if someone is overweight in the bend of the arm, the anti-cubital space,

then you must look to see any visible surface veins. I couldn't feel anything as she laid on the floor with both arms and huge legs wildly flailing hard against a thin carpet on concrete. Three strong male orderlies were on each arm, and two females were in the center of her body while two other men held her legs. It was not nearly enough, as I warned.

I need to tell you, she bites and she has AIDS. This was at the height of the epidemic in the 90s. One wrong move could have been infection. I felt what a Matador must feel. I faced the dread as I saw those orderlies failing to hold her, her arms and legs moving unrestricted up and down easily as her head thrashed left and right, quickly attempting to bite anyone that her teeth could sink into,

and the room to boot had to be nearly dark because this calmed the psychiatric patients. You may wonder, why couldn't they sedate her? And it was because of her large size. The amount of medicine was doing nothing, and so they needed to get a level of medicine in her bloodstream, so they had to get a blood sample. I prayed at that moment that I could get it for her. me and the team, safely in my mind.

I asked God if I could, and I never wanted to do that work again. I got the needle in, and the blood filled the vacuum tube, and I slipped the tourniquet off, and super carefully removed the needle, and then bandaged her arm. I stood up off the floor and got circulation again and backed away. I was thankful that it was over safely. The very next day they announced the hospital was going to participate. in a new trial theory, where the nurses would do everything for their own patients. They have precious little training in this area.

I was given the option of taking severance pay or taking a lower paid heavy work job. I was in college part-time, but I worked full-time, so I took the opportunity to just go to school full-time, and then work only part-time. I would get a year of severance pay and chose that option. option. I never had to draw blood again after that particular traumatic patient. It was an immediate and unusual answer to my prayers. My sister played in a seven-piece band that played top 40 music as their drummer, and she sang since she was 11. They became a huge sensation in our city, and beyond, Louisville, Kentucky, and every year they played all the prominent events during Derby Week, which included the Great Balloon Race, Steamboat Race with the Bail of Louisville,

and the Delta Queen of Cincinnati, and Johnny Wayne, and other dignitaries would be on board as their band played on the racing steamboat. It was super expensive per ticket, and you had to be famous to be able to get on it during that race. All the local country club had their band, the Leaves of Autumn, play several nights a week, and they were booked three years in advance on all weekends and events like New Year's Eve. They had built such a loyal following that they decided to thank their patrons with a yearly dance. They had it at a huge venue, and it was at one of these thank you dinner and dances that I was able to go. So, I was all dressed up, as was everyone.

There were champagne fountains and beautiful appetizers, and later, marvelous, abundant food, and the music began. I had on tall shoes, and they were brand new. Dance floors and new shoes. Well, not a good combination. I was near to a newspaper executive and his wife, and when the music started, I got to dancing. I've always preferred fast dancing to slow. I was elated that I was asked to dance immediately,

and my damned new shoes, made out of beige macrame, flew off so fast, and then jettisoned and high into the air and then down on top of the head of said newspapers exec's wife's head. Hard. I had no way to even apologize due to sheer numbers in the crowd, but my sister was playing and saw who'd been hit and told me. We laughed, even though it was awful. She was okay after all. She was damn mad, though, and moved away in front of the band then.

After four hours, I was dancing to another fast song, and wouldn't you know it, my sandal flipped high into the air over an undulating sea of heads and bodies, with colored lights moving and music wafting. And whose head did it hit? Hers again. Is it impossible? Well, no, because it happened. The neighborhood had always been quiet.

A small suburban oasis where everyone knew each other by name and front lawns were meticulously maintained. I moved in three years ago, drawn to the tree-lined streets and promise of peaceful living, but that was before the Simons moved in next door. It started small, as these things often do. The Simons arrived in the middle of the night. They're moving truck groaning under the weight of what seemed like an excessive amount of furniture for a house that size. I watched from my window as they unloaded, noticing that they didn't bring any lights. strange silhouettes against the dim streetlights.

I shrugged it off, figuring they were just night owls. The first unsettling incident occurred a few weeks later. I was gardening in the front yard when I noticed Ms. Simon standing at her window staring at me. Her face was blank, eyes unblinking. I waved trying to be friendly, but she didn't respond. She just stood there watching. It sent a chill down my spine, and I retreated inside. And then there were the noises.

At first I thought I was imagining them, odd scraping sounds in the dead of the night, heavy thuds, and what sounded like low murmurs. I wasn't the only one who had heard them. My neighbor across the street, Ms. Kowalski, mentioned it one morning while we were collecting our mail. Have you heard those noises from the Simon's house? It's like they're dragging furniture around at all hours, she said, shaking her head. Strange folks, though, Simons. I nodded, relieved that I wasn't alone in my suspicions.

We both laughed it off, but unease lingered. Things escalated when pets started disappearing. First, it was the Johnson's cat, muffin, and then the Cranes' dog wrecks. The neighborhood buzzed with concern and suspicion. I kept a close eye on my own cat, whiskers, making sure that she didn't stray too far from home. One evening, I was out for a walk when I saw Mr. Simon in the backyard digging. The yard was already daunted with several freshly dug holes. I couldn't help but feel curiosity and fear.

What was he burying? I decided to confront him, but as I approached, he stopped digging and turned to look at me, his expression unreadable in the twilight. Good evening, I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Evening, he replied curtly, wiping his brow with a dirty sleeve. What are you digging for? I asked. Attempting a casual tone. Gardening.

Planning to plant some new trees, he said with the flat tone. I nodded, pretending to believe him, but the unease grew. That night, I barely slept. haunted by images of those holes in what might be buried in them. A few days later, whiskers went missing. I searched everywhere calling her name until my throat was hoarse. I couldn't shake the feeling that the Simons had something to do with it. Desperation drove me to a reckless decision.

In the dead of the night, I snuck into their backyard. It was a full moon, and it was casting that eerie glow over the garden. I approached one of the holes and started digging. My heart pounded in my chest, fear and adrenaline making my hands tremble. After a few moments, I unearthed a small blood-stained collar. It was whiskers. I was so engrossed in my grim discovery that I didn't hear Mr. Simon's approach.

His hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I spun around, a scream launched in my throat. Looking for something? he asked. His voice cold and devoid of emotion. My mind raced trying to find an excuse, but I could only stammer incoherently. He stared at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something almost human in his eyes, but it vanished quickly. Stay out of my yard, he said, his grip tightening painfully before he released me. I stumbled back, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Next time you won't be so lucky. I fled. clutching Whiskers' collar to my chest. I locked all my doors and windows, my mind a whirlwind of fear and grief. I called the police the next day, but they found no evidence of foul play. The Simons continue their strange, unsettling existence,

and I lived in constant fear always watching my back. Months passed, and a few more pets disappeared. The neighborhood seemed to shrink away from the Simon's house, a black hole of dread and unanswered question. I never found out what they were really up to, but I moved away as soon as I could, unable to bear the weight of their presence any longer. Now, years later, I still dream of that night, of the holes in the ground, and the cold, unfeeling eyes of Mr. Simons.

I'll never forget the terror that gripped our once peaceful neighborhood, that darkness that seemed to seep into the very soil, turning our suburban paradise, straight into a nightmare. I don't know if this one would interest you, but I had two hallucinations as a child that were pretty freaky. Use this if you want to. These were after my parents divorced, one when I lived with my mom,

and another when I lived with my dad. I never did drugs, smoked or drank as a kid, so I really don't understand what this was, but it was freaky as hell, though. So the first one was I was wide awake walking towards my living room If I remember correctly I was 7 to 8 And this was after my parents' divorce

So that may have been the trigger But the walls were see-through but outlined by lines So I could see their general shapes I saw my stepdad and mom sitting in two rocking chairs In front of our fireplace And they were reading newspapers I walked towards them, and they were not reacting to me at all. I was confused.

I looked around and realized things didn't seem normal. They put the newspaper down, and they had no eyes or mouths, just empty pits. It scared me quite a bit, and I backed up, and I backed into a large, dark figure who grabbed me. I then saw two glowing eyes in the... the pitch black, and the dark figure said, we will see more of you soon, to the point that I was seeing a dark shadowy figure in the darkness every night while trying to sleep. Then, I snapped out of it and was standing there in the living room with my parents saying, Hey, what's up? We watched the movie's Silent Hill and straight up was like, damn, that's how

my episode as a kid went both times. It felt. real. So the second episode or hallucination, I was at my dad's. I moved in with him and lived with him for a year, and we were watching the TV show Bones. I loved this show as a kid, that paired with CSI was awesome. We were watching it having a decent time, both enjoying the show and, in turn, enjoying each other's company. I looked at the TV, looked back at my dad, and said, That's interesting, right?

And he was gone. He most likely went into the kitchen, I don't know, but I heard muffled noises coming from the closet right next to the couch. I walked up and opened it, and I saw two bodies hanging by hooks. One was bloody and dead, and the second was a kid screaming and had been amputated and was crying. I froze a bit. I was so confused and scared. scared. I slammed the door shut and ran towards the kitchen where I thought my dad was at. I ran into him but didn't feel right. I still felt uneasy like something wasn't quite right. I looked up at him

and his face was pitch black like the shadowy figure for my first illusion. I then freaked out again and snapped out of it to my dad shaking me, asking me what was wrong. I just ran right into him crying for no reason. I don't know if any of this counts as scary, but for me it was certainly terrifying as a kid and traumatic enough to where I still remember it 17 years later. I still don't understand what happened to me or why I went through these.

They were years apart. I only had these two very vivid ones like this, but, man, they sucked. It's not all that often, but I can hear when someone talks about me. I will also hear the exact wording, most often when it's criticisms somehow. One time in high school I met a new friend, Noni, who was originally from New York and then went to California and then Georgia, and was then in Louisville, Kentucky. We became really nice friends and remained so to the present day.

We talked like teenagers do about everything in between classes and before and after school, and would call to really be. really talk on the phone after supper. We yacked nightly. But this one night we'd already spoken, but I had called her after we hung up an hour or so. Hello? Yeah, it's me. Yeah? I'm mad.

I just want you to know that I didn't like what your father said about me. She was silent and then asked, what did he say? So I told her verbatim. She gasped and then slowly said, How do you know that? I said that I heard him. And it's true that sometimes I just do, or even hear it in advance.

I helped an elderly neighbor by going to her basement that she uses for storage, since my legs are younger. I told her where I put the paper towels and then said, in two weeks, your son's wife is going to ask you why the paper towels are there now. well tell her it's to keep them to clean up the bar stool so no bugs can find their way into the package or something i could just hear the way that she was going to say it two weeks later my neighbor who knows me well said well she went to the basement for me and asked why they were there all right so i told her to keep them clean it happens a lot so don't talk about me too much addendum call me crazy

but I was in Walmart tonight, and I passed an old woman and a worker, and I got just before the door, and I turned around and found that woman, and the worker was wagging her head, standing around. I moved up with my basket and looked down into hers to see two huge bags of dry cat food and a load of other stuff. I had heard her worry that she needed something loaded into her car. I said, do you need something loaded into your car? She said yes. I told her that I would help, and the worker was being told it was impossible and that nobody was available on her two-way radio. I'll just have her do it, she said, tired of standing on one foot and the other.

I was parked nearby, and I loaded her up quickly. I had heard her think this, plain as day. I can connect with my family through dreams. I want to preface this by apologizing if something I type is unclear, as I struggle to fully convey my thoughts due to having ADHD and autism. It's highly likely I have mild dyslexia, but I don't want to definitely say I'm dyslexic because I've never been formally tested. The most recent example of this happened in April of this year, 2024. This one incident revolves around my biological aunt on my father's side, aka my father's sister.

This aunt has a husband, so this would be my father's brother-in-law, or my uncle to whom I am not biologically related. My uncle's family member passed away, so both my aunt and uncle attended a funeral for my uncle's family member on the 4th of April. I had a dream of my aunt passing away from cancer the night of April 4th. During the morning after the dream, to the morning of the 5th, my mom said that my aunt said that my aunt, and uncle had gone to a funeral on the previous day. This means that I had a dream revolving around my aunt passing on the same date that she had attended a funeral. The thing that really takes the cake is the fact that I fully believed my aunt had passed away because of the dream of her dying of cancer, and the only reason I realized that it was a dream

is the fact that she sent me a happy birthday text on April 5th. The fact that I wasn't able to distinguish this stream from reality is significant because I can always tell my dreams from reality. Hey there, friends, I hope that you enjoyed this collection of scary stories on this episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast. If the platform you're on has the option to follow podcast and you enjoyed my work, please do consider doing so. also leaving ratings and reviews are super important for the algorithm to support the growth of the podcast.

I'm just one guy doing this. I don't have a team. It's literally just me doing everything. So any supports like that is greatly appreciated. Never expected, though. So if you go above and beyond with that, I do appreciate it. Some platforms also allow you to leave comments, and if you feel inclined to do so, please do. I would appreciate that.

I do have a Patreon in a merch store that you can also check out if you want to support a little further. The Patreon side of things get you early access to all of my content. It is formatted differently as it goes in line with what my YouTube channel is, but it is the same stories, just different collections. There is also a website astherravendreams.com, where you can check out pretty much everything about me, my social media platforms, fiction stories I've written if you want to read those, as well as submitting your own stories,

which there's a big button on the front page, you click to do so. And those stories basically keep the podcast alive, to be honest with you. So, yeah. All that said, friends, I do hope that I see you again here very soon. Until then, remember that you are loved, that you are valid, that you are important. You're the best you that you can be. Don't forget it. And until next time, much love and sleep well.