As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 155 - Scary Rain Day & Coffee Shop Stories

Episode Date: December 6, 2024

Today, on the 155th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 7 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 the horrors of working in a coffee shop, as well as some terrifying stories that take place on rainy days. There are TWO Ad breaks in this episode. The first is around 23 minutes, and the second is around 68 Minutes in. 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... ChevyHM, MJLMK, Andy, DarthDanny, KennethJR, VelvetVinny, ItsBeenFun 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

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 am a creature of habit. Every morning, I got up at 6 a.m., got ready for the day, and went to a cute little coffee house up the street from my apartment. I typically got the same thing. If it was cold, it was a chai latte or cappuccino. If it was hot, then it was an iced white mocha.

I rarely did anything different, but the baristas knew me, and I suppose I was an easy and low-maintenance customer. I would leave there around 8.30 and then head to work, which always made my day start out great. I could enjoy my caffeine and do whatever I wanted, uninterrupted, until I had to go to work, that is. Depending on the day I might read, or work on something for work, or even just browse my computer for whatever caught my eye that morning.

It really was just my moment of peace before the day got started. However, I never knew having such a pattern could also cause problems. This happened a few years ago, in September. I live in the Northeast, and we were starting to get the cool autumn weather. I wasn't quite ready to switch over to a hot drink yet, so I was still enjoying my iced lattes at the time. One day, as I was waiting in line to order,

there was another woman in front of me placing her order. She looked to be about my age. She had short, ashy brown hair. She was wearing what I would describe as someone starting in corporate or going to an interview. She had on slacks with a matching jacket and a light blue colored blouse underneath it. The jacket looked like it was probably two sizes too big for her, though.

I only saw her from the back at first, but she mentioned how she had never been here before and didn't know what to get. I thought I would be nice and told her if she was looking for something different, then she should try their signature Cloud 9 Latte, which tasted like toasted marshmallow. It was nice on those days when I wanted to branch out. When I suggested this, she turned to me and her face lit up.

She thanked me and placed her order for a cloud nine, and then I placed my order. I spoke with the barista, I'll call her Amy, before I went to my spot per my normal routine. Once I sat down, the suit lady walked over to me and thanked me for the suggestion. She said she was new in the city and that she had just moved here. with her boyfriend due to a job offer that she got. I congratulated her and she asked me for some of the best places to go for groceries, restaurants, and places to avoid. It was something that I definitely wasn't expecting,

but I gave her my best answers and she thanked me before leaving. Then I watched her put her coffee in a cup holder, put on a helmet, and drive away on a scooter. I just remember thinking that she seemed like a really eccentric, person. Wearing a business suit and driving a scooter really seemed to tickle me. As the week went on, I would visit the coffee house and the suit lady would come in shortly after me. Typically, I was already sitting down by the time she got there, so I would smile or nod at her. She would order, and then she'd sit at the table across from me every time.

Her choice of seats didn't seem odd either. Maybe she saw me as a familiarly. your face and wanted to sit close. Not to mention, I was always in the same seat, so others doing the same really wasn't weird to me either. But it started escalating from here, which is when I felt things were off. Suit Lady didn't have a purse, but just a fairly large backpack. Once she sat down, she would pull out a laptop, a notepad, and a pen. I would glance up to see the reflection of the laptop screen on her glasses as she scrolled through pages.

She would write things down and sip her coffee. Pretty normal-looking stuff at first. But one day I started getting the feeling that I was being watched. Now, of course, I had obviously glanced at her a few times doing the normal people watching that I and many other people do. I may look up and see her riding away Or others who scrape the chair across the floor Just things like that But this feeling I was getting was like someone's intent

Was to watch me I looked up from my book And looked around the room while I stretched Trying to make it look normal That's when I noticed suit lady Let's call her Susie Staring at me With her hand on her chin holding it up

It was like she was daydreaming or spacing out, but staring right at me. It was kind of weird. When we locked eyes, I smiled and nodded, but she didn't break. So I just looked back down at my book to ignore it. But every so often I would look up and she would still be staring at me. Strange, but it didn't feel too weird. Once 8.30 hit, I started packing up, and as I was walking by Susie, she flipped her notepad over and was closing her laptop.

With her apparel, which was another suit-like outfit, maybe she was working on something confidential at work and took it seriously. As serious as you could working on it in a public place, I guess. But it only seemed to get weirder. She started coming in at the same time as me, and was ordering right after me. However, she always ordered the same thing as me. At first, I thought she was just trying something different, but it was every time. Here's the thing. I switched to my hot drink, a chai latte, and so did she.

However, I don't think she liked chai because I watched her take a drink and her face sour. She didn't take another drink while we were there, but she did continue watching me. but day after day I would order my chai and so would she she never drank it why continued to get something if you didn't like it so now she was copying my drink and still continued to stare at me sometimes she would look at me and then back down at her pad and continue riding furiously you would think there was a board behind me or something that she was writing

down but there was nothing there I thought her ordering my drink and staring at me was strange enough, but she kept surprising me. She came in wearing what I can only assume to be a wig. I have long, dark auburn hair, and she came in one day with long Auburn hair. You can't exactly grow your hair from a shoulder to mid-back overnight, so it had to be a wig. But her wearing a wig isn't the problem. It was the fact that it looked just like my hair. I know what you're thinking, though.

Maybe she liked the color or style. That's harmless, right? Sure. But how would you feel if that same person, the one staring at you, ordering your drink, matching your hair color and style, then walked into the coffee house

wearing almost the exact same outfit you wore the previous day? I would say that my style is more grunge or cottage core, depending on the day. Definitely not the corporate suit style, the style that she always wore. This day, she walked in wearing an olive green overall dress, a lacy cream-colored long-sleeved shirt underneath, tights, and brown boots. I got the dress from a local store and it had a mushroom pattern on it, so I knew it was the same one. The blousey and boots looked almost identical, and the tights were plain black. The ones I had wore had a bug pattern on them.

That was the only difference. This was completely different from what she normally would wear. And I knew it wasn't just me, because when I placed my order, Amy had that look on her face, with a raised eyebrow, telling me she noticed it too. It was definitely weird, but not... creepy or alarming, I guess. But it only got worse.

She tried to copy my every move. She would call the baristas by name like I did. She would walk over and add extra cinnamon to her drink that she still wouldn't drink. She would order a pastry when I did and take a bit of it at the exact same time. Why was this happening? Why me? She even showed up at the same time as me. or at least was in the parking lot when I was pulling in,

and she left at the same time. She never followed me after leaving, but I was constantly paranoid that she would. I don't know why she would, but it was still something I feared. At least, that was until one day, something happened with my alarm and it didn't go off, so I ended up getting out later than I expected. That always threw my whole day off, so,

when I got to the coffee house, I saw Susie standing outside by her scooter with her helmet still on. She noticed me walking to the door and I saw her rip her helmet off and rush to the door, commenting how she had just got there too. Like it was a coincidence. She had obviously been there for a moment because I could see her in the parking lot from the intersection. Why lie about it? I got my coffee and sat down and decided to take her. the time to finish a puzzle game on my phone, to try and mellow out since I was already annoyed. But again, I saw her staring at me. This time I could tell by the reflection of her glasses, which are now large round glasses like mine, that her laptop wasn't even on. It was a black screen,

but she was acting like she was doing something on it. But sure enough, she was also staring at me. I was not in the mood, and it was weirding me out how much she tried to and succeeded at looking like me, so I decided to call it quits and head out to work early. Again, Susie was always there until 8.30s, so her leaving at the same time as me made no sense. As I walked out, she made a comment like, early workday, huh? And I stopped and just stared at her. And finally it came out. I told her how uncomfortable she had made me by staring at me and asked why she was dressing like me.

I'll never forget the crazy look in her eyes and the creepy smile she gave me. She took what I said as a compliment. She thanked me for noticing and talked about how perfect I was. She said the way that I dressed and how I carried myself. It looked like everyone respected me. The only people she saw me interact with were the only people she saw me interact with were the baristas, and that's not because they saw me as someone with power, but because it was mutual respect.

We got to know each other. Hell, I'd even house sat for the owners before. But that was the thing. She took all this as me being someone special and she wanted to be me. Those were her words. She said she could start a fresh new life here being me, and no one would know the difference. Then, she asked me if I wanted to swap lives. I told her to leave me alone and stop following me and walked off.

I drove to work, taking a different route, hoping she wouldn't follow me. Had she followed me to work before, I had no idea, but I didn't want to take any chances. Unfortunately, she bothered me enough that I stopped going to the coffee shop for a couple of weeks. I got a text from the owner one day asking if I was okay, which made me go back. Amy and the owner were working that morning, and as soon as she saw me, Amy's eyes got big and she asked if I was okay. I explained to her about how Susie had freaked me out enough to not come back for a while, and she explained what happened afterwards.

She said that Susie continued to show up, but she never came in. She would pace the parking lot looking around and then would leave at 8.30 a.m. She would stand out there for almost two hours, as if she was waiting for me to show up. But just a few days prior to me coming in, the woman had a meltdown outside, scaring some customers and the owner had to tell her to leave,

as now she was just loitering and possibly becoming a problem. Since then, she hadn't come back. It was disturbing to hear that she seemed to wait for me, but was relieved that she was finally gone. Every time the door opened for about a week or so, I shuddered, fearing that I would see her walk in, but she really never did come back. So what was the point in all of that? To completely change her wardrobe to match someone wouldn't exactly be cheap. And what the hell did she mean by me being perfect and starting to change her wardrobe? a new life.

What was wrong with hers? I don't know. Even if she was harmless, or mostly harmless, part of me thinks there was something more to her. Maybe she just needed help, but with how quickly she clung to me and fell apart when there was a change, it was just unsettling to me. I just hope that she found something about her own life and clung to it,

rather than copying someone else's. When I was around nine, I had this stuffed penguin. It wasn't one of those cute, soft, and fluffy ones you see everywhere, no. This thing was almost as tall as I was at the time. This thing was big, over three feet tall with glossy black eyes, in a strange, almost rigid body. My uncle had given it to me for my birthday a couple of years prior, And I remember the minute that I saw it.

I hated it. There was something off about it. Something that made me feel uneasy. Like, it was watching me when I wasn't paying attention. I loved my uncle. He was a great guy, and he meant well, but I have no idea why he bought that thing. I was polite about it, and he was excited to see me with this giant stuffed bird, so I smiled and said thanks.

It ended up in my room, of course, perched in the corner near my bed, and as much as I tried to ignore it, I would lie there every night convinced that it was watching me. Eventually, I asked my mom if we could move it somewhere else in the house, and she finally agreed, saying that we could move it into the spare bedroom, which was right across the hall from my room. It was far enough, though, and I was just happy that. that it was out of my room whatsoever. That's the setup to the story. I promise, it is going somewhere.

It was a year later, when I was 10, and I had my friend Evan staying the night. It was late summer and a big storm had rolled in. It was a cooler night, though, so my mom wanted to keep the windows cracked in the living room so we wouldn't have to run the AC. It was one of those summer storms where everything was going crazy.

The wind was hitting the house. The trees were smacking the windows. Basically, it was going to be one of those nights where Evan and I tried to scare the crap out of each other. We were telling each other creepy ghost stories in my room after everyone had gone to bed, just trying to make up anything and everything we could that would be scary,

which wasn't much since we were 10 years old. I had just finished telling a story that I made up. or read about in a book or something about a clown that would watch kids sleep through the window, when out of nowhere, Evan asked me if I still had that creepy, giant penguin thing. Evan, being my best friend, knew that thing scared the hell out of me, so of course he would bring it up. I hadn't thought about it in a while, but the second he mentioned it, I started thinking about it again.

and I got that chill down my spine. I tried to sound calm and say, oh, yeah, it's in the spare room now. I didn't want it in my room anymore. Evan then said, we should go check it out. I immediately tried to say no that I wasn't supposed to leave my room after bedtime like that, which was a total lie, and I'm sure Evan knew it.

But Evan kept pushing me saying that I was a baby, and that I was letting a stuffed penguin scare me. I relented because I wasn't going to let him think that. I grabbed my flashlight, and we opened my door, and slightly down the hall, to go to the door to the spare bedroom. I stood there for a moment just thinking about that stupid penguin. Evan pushed in front of me and grabbed the door, pushing it open for me, basically giving me no alternative.

I stepped into the room behind him, shined the flashlight back and forth, looking for the penguin. Of course, it was there, in the corner, just lying there face down on the spare bed. Evan laughed at me, saying that it was a stupid thing that I was so scared of a stuffed penguin. I gave a slight chuckle and agreed with him, just saying, Yeah, it's just a dumb toy. This is where things went weird. When I said that, I swear to you that,

the room dropped a solid 10 degrees. It went from slightly cooler to freezing in there in an instant. I turned back toward Evan to ask if he was cold too, and the door behind him started creaking, and then shut, hard, like someone had pushed it. It wasn't me. I was standing there staring at Evan, and I knew it wasn't him, because I was literally looking right at him. I stared at the door with my mouth slightly open, just freaking out, when Evan hit me on the shoulder and told me to look, pointing in the direction of the bed. When I turned that way and shine the light on the bed, I saw the penguin. Only this time, it wasn't lying flat. It was standing up and leaning against the back corner of the bed. That was more than enough for me. I ran from where I was standing to the

door and yanked it open, running as fast as I could across the hallway back to my bedroom. Evan yelled out for me to not leave him there and stumbled out of the room towards mine. When we got back to my room, I flicked on the light and was surprised to see that Evan actually had tears on his face. I asked if he was okay, and he told me that he was fine, and then wiped them away and asked what was wrong with that stupid penguin. I said that I hated that damn thing, that it was always creepy to me and I hated having it in my room, and that's why it was over and there. And now I had even more reason to hate it. It was such a quick event, but it was probably the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced

as a child. Neither of us spoke about it after that, and I didn't go back to the moment. And I didn't go into that spare bedroom at all, like ever. My mom still lives in that house, and to this day I still refuse to go in there, even though that penguin is long gone. I personally think that the penguin was cursed, or haunted, or had something attached to it. I don't know. That was the only time I ever had a paranormal experience, and it didn't start until I called the thing stupid.

I actually asked my uncle where he got it, but he honestly could not remember. He knew that he didn't buy it from a big store or anything, but he couldn't recall where exactly it had come from. I don't know, and now I don't really care. I'm just glad that I never had a run in with whatever it was that was attached to that stupid penguin, ever again. for 15 minutes. We'd say that's the

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You're made for negotiate, and the apply-negotcy-tit-tit-tid is made to help you. I wanted to send in a story that most probably won't find creepy, and maybe there's some kind of logical explanation, but for me, at the time, it was really strange. Maybe that's more what this story would be, a strange story instead of a scary one.

I don't know. I'll let you decide how to use it, if you choose to. This happened back in the summer, when I was 11 years old. I don't remember much about the summer, honestly, but I do remember this specific day. It was summer break. I was at home, an only child,

and both of my parents worked. So I spent a lot of time by myself. This was one of those days where I was home alone doing whatever I did at the age of 11. It was hot, but I also remember that it was really rainy. Like we were getting hit with a crazy storm. I wasn't able to go outside to do anything

because of how much it was coming down and the street was starting to basically become a small stream. After about half an hour of the rain coming down, it started getting really windy, and at one point the power went out. I was pretty upset about that because I was playing Pokemon Stadium on my N64, and I was in the middle of one of the cup tournaments,

and then the power went out. If I were any more angsty, I probably would have thrown my controller in a rage, but I also didn't want to break my stuff, so I just put it down and yelled at the now dark TV. I went downstairs and decided to just sit on the couch and do nothing until we got the power back, because I wasn't sure what else I could do.

I sat there and watched the rain come down, thinking about how quiet it was. It went out of nowhere, I heard a familiar tune. It was the tone that came from an ice cream truck. I guess I should mention a couple of things about my neighborhood. I lived on a cul-de-sac, so one way in and one way out. We did have an ice-cream truck that came through, but they usually came through on Tuesdays and Fridays,

and I don't believe that this was either of those. On top of that, the truck that did come through would come through at three in the afternoon. They never came through earlier in the day. I know it seems weird that I knew the exact time, but I remember weird things like that. That's just how I've always been. At first I thought I was imagining it.

There was no way that an ice cream truck was riding around in the rain like that, but as it was getting close, it was getting louder, so it was definitely real. But again, in the middle of a massive thunderstorm, no one is going to be running out to get their ice cream. I wiped the condensation off the window just to watch as this colorful van drove down the road and around part of the cul-de-sac. I watched as it kept going, the tires sloshing through the collecting water, and the headlights barely visible. But sure enough, the van was covered in colorful decals, with various ice cream treats plastered all over it. I remember feeling really strange as I watched the van pull around and then just kind of stop. It pulled just past my house in the middle of the circle, and it stopped. I sat there and watched the van sitting there on the road, the music continuing to play at max volume.

It was kind of unsettling. The background of the thunderstorm with this van just sitting there, motionless, and chiming out whatever soulless kid tune it was playing. No one got out of the truck. No one walked out of any of the houses toward the van or anything. There was no one outside anywhere. Just this van sitting on the street, headlights shining, windshield wipers going and music playing.

Now, logically, one could assume that this van was maybe just pulling over to wait out the worst of the storm. That would make sense, right? But then why would he, one, drive in the storm for several minutes to come down this specific cul-de-sac, and then why would he park there and keep the music playing? Normally, the van would play the music while he approached,

and then it would be off when he stopped. But this guy didn't turn it off. It just kept playing over and over, on a loop, for an hour, at least an hour. I watched this truck over the time, glancing over every few moments to see if he moved or anyone gone out, but no. This guy seriously just stopped and was taunting 11-year-old me with this annoying, slightly distorted song.

Obviously, I don't think it was actually about me, but who knows, right? I wasn't able to think about anything but the dumb song. It was super distracting and super loud. At one point, I thought about going outside to see if maybe the guy needed help or something,

but I didn't. I was way too shy to do something like that. After that hour or so, the van slowly crept away from where it was parked, and then left. As suddenly as it appeared, it was gone. It was super slow as it rolled down the road, like five miles per hour, and the music kept going as it left the area. I watched it turn to the right and go out of view. I have no idea what the hell this was. And like I said, a lot of people may not think that this was scary,

but I cannot think of any reason for this guy to have just sat there for that long with the music going like that. Like maybe he was waiting for someone in the neighborhood, but then why wait for a full hour like that? Why keep the music going? Plus, no one came out. No one exited the van. The whole waning out the storm thing kind of makes sense,

minus the fact that the storm was still going when he left. And again, the music. Maybe he was being a nuisance. Sure, that makes sense, but then again, why? I just don't know. Worse yet, I never saw that ice cream van again for the rest of the summer, or honestly ever. We had our regular one that came back the next week, but that specific one never returned.

I told my mom about it when she got home, and her only explanation was that maybe he didn't know the music was on, which I cannot personally believe, with how loud and obnoxious it was. Looking back, it was very strange, and for some paranoid reason, part of me tells me that, he wasn't there to sell ice cream. What he was there for, however, I will likely never know. Working in retail and food establishments really teaches you how many people have absolutely no concept of what closing time means. But there was one customer that I will never forget,

who took it to a whole new level. I worked at a pretty popular coffee shop in the northern U.S. area. It wasn't a chain place like the Green Mermaid, but if you lived up here, you knew the place, and many even preferred it. Most days we closed at 9 p.m. sharp. Anyone who's worked in food service knows that closing time isn't actually when you get to leave, though. You have to shut everything down, clean, restock, close out the register, and a million other small tasks that take an hour after closing.

That's why we would start our closing procedure around 8.30. And this isn't just something us baristas started to do. This came from management. Just wanted to put that out there before anyone says that this was our fault. We would clean the espresso machines, count the pastries for donations, sweep, and mop, and then dump the remaining coffee because no one wants our old burnt coffee anyways. If we got late orders, 98% of the time

they would go through the drive-thru and that late, it was typically hot chocolate or tea orders, not coffee. But when we got the random espresso person, we obliged. No grumbles about it. At least they didn't come in and muck up the floors.

But this one guy, he made closing infuriating. We referred to him as last-minute Larry. which seemed to fit anyways, since according to his credit card, his name was Lawrence. Like clockwork, Larry would show up at 8.58 p.m. or sometimes right as we were locking the doors. This isn't an exaggeration either. He showed up between 8.58 and 9 p.m. He always ordered the same thing, a large vanilla latte with an extra shot and caramel drizzle. It doesn't sound complicated, but when you've already cleaned and broken down everything,

it means pulling everything back out, recleaning it all and pushing your closing time back at least 15 minutes. It was maddening. There was one time, on a whim, that I made his drink a little earlier, expecting him to show up. So, as he swiped his card to pay, I handed him his drink smiling, thinking I did a good thing. but again he didn't thank me he took a drink and immediately complained that it wasn't hot enough and told us to remake it so now he not only wasted our time but even our supplies we had to make a whole new drink all because i tried to make it one minute earlier and that's it i was finishing it as he was paying but even with all that the worst part in my My opinion was his smug smile. He knew exactly what he was doing. It was one thing if they actually apologized for showing up late, or got something simple,

like a triple shot or tea, but he wanted a latte with whip and drizzle. And not once did he apologize or ever thank us. He would say things like, made it just in time, and then would slurp it so loud as he walked out not saying another word to us. This went on for months. My manager, Jenny, was too nice to turn him away, saying we technically weren't closed, so we had to serve him. Was he a jerk and ungrateful?

Well, yeah, but she wasn't wrong. So every night we'd finish up, but I actually stopped cleaning the espresso machine until the doors were locked. Then, for just a sliver of a moment, we got what we considered a satisfying moment. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. We had signs posted inside and out, and even the drive-thru showing our holiday hours.

It said that we were closing early on that Wednesday at around 5 p.m. And that we would be closed on Thursday. Like I said, the signs had been up for weeks. So, there we were, a little past 5 p.m., and we already had the doors locked and were in the midst of our closing tasks. I was out in the lobby, mopping, as we were just about to finish with everything, when I heard a loud thud.

It was the sound of our door being pulled on. It was Larry. He looked at the door confused and pointed at me gesturing to open it, as he stood there smiling. I walked up to the door, also smiling, and told him that we were already closed, and I apologized. The smile,

quickly turned into annoyance. He said I was wrong, that we didn't close until nine. I explained to him the hours for the holidays and even pointed to the sign on the door. The look on his face as he read it? Seriously, I've never seen someone look so personally offended by a closed sign. I guess he thought he was a special circumstance because he still demanded a manager, as he stood on the other side of the door. So I went and got Jenny and explained to her what was going on.

I followed Jenny back to the front and listened to the conversation as I finished mopping. He was yelling so loud that I could hear him by the counter, which is as far back from the door as you could be without going into the back of the store. He kept saying how it wasn't fair, that he was a paying customer and demanded his coffee. Then, he made it sound like we needed him. We needed his $4.12 cents that he gave us every night. And then he started threatening to go to a different coffee shop. Thankfully, Jenny stood her ground.

She said we closed at five. It's been posted, and he was way past five. It wasn't like his normal where he came in two minutes till closing. so she refused to serve him. She even apologized that he didn't see the signs and offered to give him $2 off if he came in on Friday, but he declined. She tried to end the conversation there because there was no point in continuing with it. She told him to have a better night. He called her some colorful names, kicked the door, and then walked back to his truck.

Jenny was standing in the middle of the store and was moving the tables back, as I had already mopped that section. We started talking about what just happened, but he still sat in his truck right in front of the door. It was kind of intimidating. Was he going to just stay there until we left? Was he crazy enough to do something to us when we did? I asked Jenny about it,

and she said that if he didn't leave in the next few minutes, she would call it in, not feeling comfortable with him being there either. Then, as I finished mopping with her following behind, adjusting the chairs and tables, Larry started revving his truck. I was beginning to feel a bit nervous about the whole thing and told Jenny that she should probably call someone. She nodded in agreement, and as she started talking, there was a loud crash, and glass came flying at us. I immediately ducked, not knowing what was happening.

After a couple seconds, I stood up and looked around. Larry's crazy ass had driven right through our front door. He barely missed Jenny. He stopped maybe a foot before her. A table was the only thing wedged between her and the truck. We both stood frozen looking around the lobby when Larry got out, walked up to the counter and, in a calm voice, asked for his normal lock. I wanted to scream at this man.

I wanted to punch him and tell him to leave, but it was like my feet were attached to weights, and my mouth was sewed shut. I just couldn't. Yet Jenny stood up, sighed, and just said, okay. She walked around to the other side of the counter and started firing up the espresso machine. She stopped and looked over at me, saying, Hey, Kenneth, I already put the whip away. you go grab some?

It should be in the fridge, by my paperwork. At first I thought it was an odd request because we kept the whip in the fridge behind the counter, and the ones in the back were to be used when we ran out. But something in her eyes told me just to do it. So with the weights finally off my feet, I headed to the back. I went to grab the whip from the fridge when it finally made sense to me. There was no paperwork behind me.

this fridge. At least none she was working on. The only paperwork nearby was the printout that was posted on the wall about emergency situations and what to do. Was this her way at hinting to me to call the cops?

Well, either way, I did just that. I called 911, told them the address and mentioned there was a break in, and then put the phone down to run and give her the whip, before Larry thought something was wrong. After I gave it to her, she thanked me, and we seemed to have a conversation with our eyes.

She raised her eyebrows as she took it from me, and I nodded that it was all done. She told me to go get the broom, and to start sweeping, so I went to the back and grabbed the phone again. The operator said there was already someone on the way. I grabbed the broom and dustpan, and slowly tried to move around the tables again, so I could sweep better when I saw headlights outside. The police quickly pulled up, without their lights on, and got out. Jenny tried to delay some, using the whip I brought her because it was frozen. But Larry seemed completely oblivious to everything.

As Jenny finished the drink, the police had already entered and asked what was going on. Larry turned around, his coffee in hand, and he was back to smiling, telling the cops that he was getting his coffee. I immediately blurted out that he had driven his truck through the doors because we closed at five. The cops nodded and immediately moved to arrest Larry, trying to put his hands behind his back. They asked him to put his coffee down, and they ended up having to pry it from him. Jenny and I watched from behind the counter again, as they struggled with Larry all while he kept shouting how he just wanted his damn coffee. They finally got him into the cruiser and took down everything that happened.

Thankfully, the owner even had cameras, but Larry didn't deny it. He said he did it to get his coffee, and that he wasn't even wrong for it either. We were supposed to be closed at 5 p.m., home around 6 or so, and gets to enjoy a nice evening followed by a nice holiday. But instead, Jenny and I were there until almost. 10 p.m. talking to the police, the owner, who we called, of course, and the tow service to take his truck, not to mention all the cleanup that we had to do. The time after that was definitely a bit awkward. The owner decided to just keep it closed over the weekend, until they could get either a

permanent or better temp door, and wall, because otherwise we would just have a gaping hole, and we would be freezing the entire time. I heard the county actually charged Larry for destruction of property and reckless endangerment. He had also been banned from other places for his aggressive behavior, so I guess it was just our turn. Thankfully, we never saw Larry again, or anyone like that. Jenny seemed to be more willing to put her foot down to people coming in at the last moment, which I like. She really set the expectation, and I feel like people knew not to test her. I've had some pushback on both sides of this, too, saying that it was our fault for not just helping him.

And maybe they're right. Could we have served him because it was still before closing? Sure. And we did, and got over it. But was he right to drive through the building and damn near kill someone to be serviced? No, absolutely not. That is never a solution. If you need coffee that bad and that late,

maybe consider stashing some instant coffee at home in case of an emergency. I have an experience that is somewhat recent, just a couple of months ago, actually, that I wanted to share because it was seriously chilling for me. I'm an avid runner, and I do my best. to not let anything get in the way of my routine, and that includes the weather.

On this particular evening, it was pretty cloudy, but I was well and determined to get my run in, even if it was going to rain a little. That was a pretty stupid decision on this night, because I didn't check the forecast, so that little bit of rain ended up being a torrential downpour. I was running on my path, which was paved, but it was in a mostly undisturbed wooded area.

As I was making my way down the path, it started coming down in sheets. I tried to run through it as long as I could, but then it started hailing, and that was pretty much the end of it for me. I hopped off the path and into the tree line using the trees as coverage as best as I could. I didn't have my umbrella because, again, I was very ill-properable. I figured that I would be able to just stay there for a while and wait out the storm. It had to end eventually, right? If not, I would stay there until I hit my mental limits and then make a mad dash to the parking

lot to get into my car. Well, the ladder ended up happening. It wasn't letting up or slowing down at all, so I just took a deep breath and took off back toward the parking lot at a full sprint. I practically jumped in my car, sopping wet, breathing heavily in my teeth chattering, just watching the rain smack the hell out of my windshield. I decided I would sit there for a little bit, again trying to see if the storm would let up some, or if I was going to have to drive home in the pouring rain. It was definitely a bit of a downer, but I thought that, whatever, I would just enjoy the sound of the storm, and then get out of there when it slowed.

I leaned back in my seat and tried to get comfortable. Every few seconds a flash lit up the area. And yes, I know it's probably not a good idea to be in the car in the woods during a storm, but it honestly felt safer than being out in the rain. As I sat there for a few minutes, I was watching the tree lines, and I thought I saw movement.

At first, I assumed it was a deer or something. but I looked again and saw that it was taller than a deer and looked more like a person. My mind immediately went to, there's some poor sap out on the trail still running through the rain. And then I thought, damn, they were more committed than I was. But the way they were moving looked odd. They weren't really going in one direction. They were seemingly walking aimlessly around the trees.

I watched this person for several moments just thinking, Are they okay? Do they need help? Should I do something? After a couple more seconds, I decided to turn on my headlights to get a better look at whatever it was this person was doing, since it was getting later and was starting to get dark. I flicked my headlights on, and they illuminated the entire area in front of me, the trees, the path, and the figure. When they kicked on, the person turned to look in my direction, and it became immediately apparent that,

whatever the hell I was looking at, was not a person. Or at least it was not a normal person. It's hard to figure out how to state what I was looking at, other than it was a person, sort of. They were dressed, but they weren't dressed for the weather. The person, whom, I'm assuming, was feminine, was wearing a white dress that looked older. Her skin was pale and it looked a bit dirty,

but it wasn't until I saw her face that things got really freaky. Mostly because she didn't have one. Whatever this was, it didn't have a face. It was just flat, pale skin. I know it sounds weird, but I think the best and currently relevant way to describe it is like the nurses in silent hill, but without the scar. It was just flat, no eyes, no nose, no mouth. This was the most terrifying thing I have ever seen in my entire life,

not just because of what it was, but also the fact that whatever this was was out in this storm in the woods. I don't know if it was something paranormal or what, but it scared the living head. hell out of me. I immediately started my car and took off out of the parking lot and away from the park. I have expected that thing to be chasing my car like some kind of horror movie, but it wasn't, and I didn't see it after I left. I have been back to that park numerous times, a couple of times at night, even, to see if I could find this thing again, but I've yet to see anything like it,

nor have I read any local posts about it. To the best of my knowledge, I'm the only person to have seen this thing, and it was just the one time. If anyone has any ideas what this thing could have been, I'm open to thoughts, but as of right now, I have no clue. It was some kind of freaky thing in the woods. And I'm just going to pretend that it was a ghost or something, because... Thinking that there's something that is of this world that's out there in that form is too much for me. This happened back whenever I was in my early 20s in 2010. I was a dumb kid doing dumb things,

and there was one time when I was driving to my girlfriend's place, for reasons, that something happened that was seriously terrifying, like potentially life-threatening levels of terrifying. My girlfriend lived in the town over, so I had to take the highway to her place, about a 15-minute drive on a good day. On this specific day, I had made plans to head over to her place, not even thinking about the fact that we were supposed to get a decent storm when I was going to be leaving. It was one of those storms that you knew was going to hit based on how dark the clouds were off on the horizon. and I was going to be heading straight into it. It started fine, with just a light drizzle,

but within minutes it pretty much turned into a torrential downpour. That wouldn't be an issue for normal people, but my windshield wipers were barely functional. There was something wrong with the wiper motor, and they would move really slow, or sometimes they would go up and just get stuck. And then I would have to reach out to push their, back down. I was pretty pissed off at myself. I'd had the money to get it fixed, and I'd had the time,

but for some dumb reason I just didn't. Probably laziness. I spotted a bridge a bit up the way, and I decided that I would pull over onto the shoulder. I'd be out of the worst of the rain, and I could wait it out for a bit. My old car rattled as I steered it off the road and parked just beneath the overpass. The windshield was finally clear of rain, but the whole car was shaking slightly from the wind and the roar of passing traffic. I sat there for a bit just listening to the rain falling,

trying to get a text out to my girlfriend to let her know that I would be a bit late. The storm looked like it was going to stay for a little while, and I started debating whether or not I should give it a second go. When out of nowhere, Bang. The sound was so loud and sudden that I jumped in my seat. For a second, I thought lightning had struck nearby, but this noise was different, closer, more like metal-hitting metal.

My heart was pounding, and I looked around, trying to figure out what had just happened. A car had passed me just as the noise went off, and my first thought was maybe they'd blown a tire. The sound had that kind of punch to it. I turned off the car and opened my door to step out, thinking I would see the car pull over with a flat a little ways down the road or something. But there wasn't anything out of place, or anyone else pulling over.

Then I turned back to my car and saw it. Right there, on the lower part of my door, was a small, clean, hole. It was a bullet hole. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at it. My brain was struggling to process what I was looking at. A bullet? Someone had fired a gun and it had hit my car.

It was small, just about the size of a dime, but it was deep. The metal around it was dented. The realization hit me like a punch in the gut. If the bullet had gone through the dine, door, it would have gone right into my leg, my ankle, to be exact. I stood up, and I scanned the highway looking for... What? The shooter? Another car pulled over? I really didn't know. It was just rain and blurry headlights zooming by. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I scrambled back into my car, slamming the door shut. My mind was racing. Was someone out there taking random shots at cars in the storm? Was it just an accident? A stray bullet from somewhere else? I had no idea, but I knew I needed to call 911. The dispatcher kept me on the line while I waited for the police to arrive. I tried to explain what happened, but even as I was saying it out loud, it felt unreal. I was just sitting here, waiting for the storm to arrive.

to pass and a bullet hit my car. I told her. She was calm, probably more calm than I was, and assured me that someone was on the way. I waited for the officers, and when they finally pulled up with their lights on, a tall guy with a calm demeanor knocked on my window and asked if I was okay.

I nodded and told him that I personally wasn't hit, but he could very well see the hole in my door. We talked about it for a while. He told me that I was lucky the round didn't go all the way through, by literally just some miracle. There really wasn't any reason for it to not have done so. It was just luck, I guess. Another officer drove around, checked the area, and looked for literally anything.

There weren't any clues for what exactly happened, but they took my info and told me that they were just, just glad I wasn't hit. They ended up driving off, and I sat there for a few more moments, thinking about life and how fragile it can be. Poetic, I know, but if whoever had pulled that trigger had been aiming higher, that round very well could have just gone through my window, my chest, or my neck, and made those moments my last.

Embarked and celebrate. Rigolet. Publié. Savour. Admire. And profite. Vyaray, the voice that we love. My girlfriend used to work for a coffee shop that wasn't a big corporate one.

It was locally owned, and the old lady that owned it was the nicest person ever. Since my girlfriend worked there, the owner told me that I could come in any time, and that it would be okay if I got to. up to a medium latte. No larges, though. She said I had to pay for a large one. I was in my early 20s and was a coffee addict already, so I loved this idea.

Of course, since it was a small coffee shop, and I knew that she wasn't super wealthy or making tons of profit on it, I would usually order a large and just pay for it, unless it was a rough week financially, and then I would just get a small. Either way, I would sit in the lobby on my laptop doing various things for school, myself, or whatever. I often found myself working on freelance projects at night, so I would sit up there on my girlfriend's closing shift,

and we would ride home together when she got off. It was kind of nice, and I do miss it, but that's not relevance to the story. There was one night when I was sitting up there finishing up a project near the back. I usually sat away from the busy area so I didn't take up too much space. The shop closed at midnight, and they actually did get a good number of people late at night, mostly because they were the only cafe open that late in town. But I remember on that night it was actually pretty dead. There were the occasional customers, just people,

coming in for their late night pick-me-up, or a muffin or whatever. But other than that, it was just myself, the two baristas behind the bar, and the coffee shop playlist playing on a free Pandora radio account connected to a speaker system. At around 1130-ish, the front doorbell chimed, and I glanced up out of habit. There was a woman walking through the door wearing a long, dark coat that was buttoned all the way up to her neck, her hair was a very, very bleach white. I don't mean blonde. I mean it was white.

But she didn't look like she was old enough to have white hair, if that makes sense. She looked like she was in her late 20s. She walked up to the counter, and the other barista, the one that wasn't my girlfriend, Ronnie, greeted her with his typical, hello, what can we get for you? The woman didn't respond right away. She just sort of stared at the menu. This wasn't too uncommon. Some people can be really indecisive.

She stared up at the board for several moments and then slowly shifted her head down to the pastry case. I could see the confusion on Ronnie's face, a bit of impatience as well. After several more seconds, Ronnie asked, Do you have any questions? She glanced up at him for a split second, like she was acknowledging what he said, but then immediately went back to looking at the case. She was tilting her head and analyzing everything, like she couldn't quite understand what she was looking at.

My immediate thought was, this woman is tripping hard right now. But she seemed calm enough, so I really wasn't concerned. Ronnie, on the other hand, was looking kind of anxious about the whole thing, but she wasn't really acknowledging him so there wasn't much he could do. After several minutes of her scanning the bakery treats, she finally made eye contact with Ronnie and said, Do you have anything else? Ronnie kind of stuttered to answer her questions, saying,

Um, I mean, we have all these pastries, and we have all the coffee listed up on the board, but we do have a few other things, like breakfast sandwiches. They just take a bit longer if you don't mind waiting. She then shifted her focus to Ronnie directly for several seconds, just standing there and staring at him. I could tell that he was getting freaked out. She then opened her mouth and said,

Okay, I'll come back when it's ready. Then turned and walked out of the shop without actually ordering anything. Ronnie watched her walk out without saying anything, and then looked at me like, what the hell was that? I couldn't help but laugh a bit, and he asked, Did she actually say what she wanted and I just missed it? Or did she just walk out without ordering anything? I just laughed and said, yeah, that happened. I didn't hear her order anything.

Ronnie chuckled and said, okay, and then went back to cleaning the counter and the machines. It stayed quiet like that for about 25 or so more minutes, and then the doorbell went off again at 1158, right before they closed. I looked back up to see who it was, again, just a force of habit with my ADHD issues, and lo and behold it was the same woman. But this time, she wasn't alone.

Behind her were two very large men, Both of them looking very mean, not to be a judgmental a-hole, but they looked very aggressive. Worse yet, I could see that they were both armed. Both of them had a firearm in their hands, and my first thought was, I'm about to die. Ronnie must have noticed this too, because I heard him give a bit of a yelp in the middle of his greeting. We both just sat there and stared at what was happening in front of us. The two men stood stone still at the front door, and the weird woman walked up to the counter and once again started studying the pastry case.

Ronnie didn't step forward this time. I think he was thinking that we were about to die as well. That those guys were about to rob the place, and since they weren't covering their faces, they likely weren't going to leave any witnesses. But neither man moved. They just stood there blocking the door, and the woman was doing her thing.

A couple of seconds pass, and then Ronnie asks, I'm sorry, can I help you with anything? I watched then as the woman stood straight up and looked him dead in the face. She leaned over the counter and got super close to his face. Like she could have bumped forward a bit and kissed him. That's how close she was. And then she just smiled and said,

chocolate muffin. Ronnie almost didn't register what she was asking for. But when it clicked, he fumbled with the tongs and got one out of the case and put it in a to-go bag, and then placed that on the counter. The woman grabbed the bag, put it to her face,

and just took a big whiff in. Like she was absorbing the smell of the muffin. She then tossed the muffin back on the counter and walked toward the men at the same. door, and the three of them just exited like it was the most normal interaction to ever happen at the coffee shop. Ronnie stood there confused. I sat there watching the door like, what the hell, and eventually my girlfriend came out from the back to ask if everything was okay. Ronnie broke down and started telling her about the woman and what all had happened.

She didn't get to see it since she was in the back the whole time doing closings, so she was none the wiser. Ronnie grabbed the muffin from the counter and asked me if I wanted it. I laughed and told him no, and he tossed it, and then immediately locked the front door saying that he didn't want her coming back. They went and finished up the closing duties, and that was pretty much the end of the night. Neither myself nor Ronnie had any idea what that was, who that lady was, why she was so wonky, and why she just wanted to sniff the moment. muffin. But

that's what happened. Definitely a bizarre situation to be in. And I was a bit terrified when the dudes walked in, but other than that, it's a damn fun story to bring up randomly when I'm hanging out with Ronnie.

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 support 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 site 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

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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.